9/29/05

THOSE WHO HUNT THE NIGHT

Chapter 2

I followed Capt. Brass back to the LVPD complex in my little rented Honda. When we arrived, we both checked in with our respective superiors. I was shown to a small empty office, which had a computer, where I could remotely check my e-mails and get my shit together, so to speak. I had flown up from Albuquerque that night. I hadn't had any rest for several days or nights. Granted a vampire of my age didn't require much rest, but it was nice to get every now and then. Yes, even we vampires needed to recharge our batteries occasionally.

After a couple of hours or so, Brass came to collect me and he escorted me through the maze of hallways to the Crime Lab. It was late afternoon by now. We found the pretty little boys in one of the numerous glass-walled labs, speaking with yet another pretty little boy (I swear, is there something in the water here in Vegas?). This one was younger than the other two and had rather spiky, dark blond hair.

The boys were busy going over the evidence they had collected from the scene, while Blondie seemed to be trying to convince his older counterparts to allow him to accompany them to the blood bar.

"Come on, you guys, I think I could be really useful in a place like that," he was saying. "I mean, what do you guys know about the whole vampire scene?"

"Well, for one thing," Warrick pointed out, "I've actually been there before. Have you? I mean, what do you know about the 'scene'?"

"Yes, what do you know?" I asked in genuine curiosity.

Blondie spun around in surprise. He obviously hadn't heard my approach. He gaped at me wide-eyed and struggled to find something intelligible to say. Brass took pity on the kid and stepped in to make introductions. Blondie, it seemed, was actually named Greg Sanders.

"Oh, so you're the FBI lady who's working with Nick and Warrick... cool," he commented.

"Yep, that's me, the 'FBI lady'. So, what was that you were saying about the 'vampire scene'...?"

"Oh, uh, you know... it's a hang out for the hard-core, blood-drinking types...," he mumbled. It was quite plain that the kid had no idea what he was talking about. He had simply been trying to BS his older friends and was completely unprepared to have someone actually call his bluff. "Oh, hey, I think I hear Grissom calling for me. I gotta go." He breezed past me and started for the door.

"Nice try, Greggo!" Nick called after him. The dark haired investigator smiled as the younger man made a rude departing gesture. All I could think was, damn, what a gorgeous smile.

"So, what have you two kids been up to?" I asked.

"Well, we ran all the fingerprints we collected from the motel through AFIS," Warrick said. "We got a match to your boy Vero."

"And he's been a very bad boy," Nick said. "He's got a hell of a wrap sheet, assault and battery, attempted rape, rape, and armed robbery are just a few of the highlights. I guess we can add multiple homicides to that list now."

"Yeah, Vero's a piece of work," I agreed.

Now, let me just explain here that another one of those pesky laws that I mentioned earlier, is that we're not allowed to simply go around 'making' other vampires. It's impractical, it's illogical, and, well, the act of making a vampire is quite physically taxing on both parties. For a time, both vampires are left completely vulnerable, never a desirable condition for any predator.

The laws state that each vampire can only make another vampire once every 100 years or so. Now, there are, of course, exceptions to this rule, but for the most part, it stands as stated. I mean, we couldn't have vampires running around willy-nilly, making more vampires, now could we? Food would start to become an issue. And with that many vampires running around, our secrecy would inevitably become compromised. And that we cannot have.

If our existence were to become general knowledge, there would be a public outcry to have us systematically hunted down and exterminated, something I, for one, would like to avoid. I rather enjoy my existence.

So, why some idiot vamp made a low-life like Jimmy Vero into a vampire is beyond me. I mean, what a waste of The Gift. The man had been a vampire for barely more than a year and already he needed to be executed. Now, I realize that sometimes when a person becomes a vampire, it changes them. Some people simply can't handle it. And I can understand how it could turn an already violent man into a homicidal maniac. But this is another reason why the decision to turn someone should not be taken lightly. It should only be undertaken after very careful consideration. There's also the fact that you're going to be stuck with this person for quite a while, so you might want to make sure that you can tolerate them.

You see, the laws also state that once a you have made this new vampire, you are responsible for them until they have demonstrated that they understand the laws and can fend for themselves. It's the duty of the Sire to make sure that the Fledgling is fully acclimated to his new life. Of course, this is also why vampires tend to be the more beautiful people of the populace. I mean, if you're going to be stuck with someone for that long, it may as well be someone who's easy on the eyes.

And speaking of easy on the eyes, I returned my attention to the pretty little boys, who were still speaking with Capt. Brass. My eyes lingered on Nick and I couldn't help thinking that he would probably make a lovely vampire. Hmmm...

"Mercy!"

"Hmmm, what?" I asked, turning to Brass, who was watching me with slightly narrowed eyes. He had obviously noticed my distraction.

"We were just discussing when would be a good time to check out this 'blood bar'," the detective said. "Nick and Warrick are about to head over to the morgue to check in with Doc Robbins about the autopsy. I thought we could head over to the club after that. It should be late enough by then."

"Yeah, sure, sounds good," I said.

"You want to sit in on the autopsy, too?" Nick asked.

"Oh, no, that's okay, thanks. I'd say the cause of death was pretty obvious and I'm sure you guys can let me know if the doc found anything unusual. Besides, I've got some more phone calls to make."

"You don't like autopsies?" Warrick asked, a teasing note in his voice. "What's the matter, Mercy, you're not squeamish, are you?"

"Are you trying to flirt with me, Mr. Brown?" I asked, matching his tone.

"No, Ma'am, I'm a married man," he said, displaying the wedding band on his left hand.

"Ah, well, your loss," I said, my voice full of mock regret.

"I'm sure it is," he said with a smile and still chuckling the two boys ambled out of the room.

Married, huh, I thought, watching them leave. That's too bad. And here I had such grand plans for both of those boys. Oh well, there's still Nick. And I suppose ya'll are wondering why a little thing like a wedding ring would stop a vampire from having her fun. I am, after all, an amoral, blood-sucking fiend, right? And while this is essentially true, I am not completely amoral. While I may suck people's blood and even occasionally kill them (when it's deserved), I am not a home-wrecker. I do have some standards.

Intending to return to my small, loaner office to make my calls and get a bit more rest, I started for the door, but hadn't even taken a full step when Brass caught hold of the sleeve of my jacket.

"A quick word with you, Mercy?" he asked.

"Sure, what's up?"

The stocky detective shifted a bit uncomfortably before he began. "I, uh, noticed you staring at Stokes..." he started.

"Yes, you have a problem with that?"

I could understand his attitude if I had pushed it with Warrick, but I had quickly checked and both of Nick's hands were bare. So, what was the man's problem? Was he going to tell me that Stokes was gay or something?

"Look, Nick just recently went through a very... difficult experience. He almost died. He may not act like it, but he's still pretty vulnerable emotionally. He's a good guy and I really don't want to see him get hurt. Am I making myself clear?"

"Got it," I said, definitely intrigued by this, but figuring now was not the time to ask for details.

"Good."

Letting the matter drop, we returned to the police station together. While Brass returned to whatever other duties he had to perform, I headed for the P.D. break room, where I found a small group of uniformed officers eating their dinners. Introducing myself and helping myself to some coffee, I sat down and chatted with them. They were mostly young rookies, who were eager to try and impress an attractive, female federal agent. It took me about twenty minutes to wrangle out the entire story of what had happened to Nick Stokes, the abduction, the burial, the fire ants and the dramatic rescue.

After thanking the boys for the coffee and conversation, I headed back to my little office. Along the way, I mulled over the information I had just learned. Interesting, this cast a whole new light on things. This could work to my advantage.

Back in the office, I took out my cell phone and called to check in with my 'other', non-FBI colleagues. After this, I lay down on the couch in the office to catch another hour or so of rest. It being autumn, the days were shorter and full darkness came sooner, I arose feeling refreshed, my full strength once more surging, ready to go.

Brass stopped by to get me shortly after this and we headed back to the Crime Lab to collect the boys. We all piled into Warrick's SUV, since he was the only one who knew where this nightclub was located. Brass rode shotgun, while Nick and I sat in the back. The boys told us the results of the autopsy on the way.

As one could imagine, the cause of death was exsanguination. The damage to the throat was so extensive that it had almost severed the victim's head. One interesting thing the doctor had noted was teeth marks on the vertebrae. But whether those marks were from a human or an animal was inconclusive.

"Have these teeth marks shown up on his victims before?" Warrick asked.

"Yep," I said.

"Does Vero travel with an animal?" Nick asked. "Like a dog or something?"

"Nope," I said simply.

An uncomfortable silence followed this as the three men... digested this information, pardon the phrase. Understandably, they were pretty quiet for the rest of the ride.

It was still fairly early when we arrived at the former warehouse where the club was located. The lot outside was only about half full. As we left the vehicle, we decided that only Brass would go in armed, as he was the only one who could keep his weapon concealed under his suit jacket. I wanted for us to blend in as much as possible.

I was wearing a black pant suit and I left my jacket in the car. I was wearing a snug, red tank top underneath. I glanced at the boys. Nick was wearing black chinos and a light gray, button-down shirt. Warrick was wearing jeans and a baggy, dark blue sweater. We looked pretty conservative, but probably wouldn't draw too much attention. At least we were all wearing dark colors.

Brass, on the other hand, was going to stand out like a cat at greyhound race. At least his suit was black, so he had a kind of undertaker vibe working for him. But considering the man's age, he was going to stand out regardless of what he was wearing. Everything about the man screamed, 'Cop in the house!'

We all had to flash our respective badges and IDs before the beefy bouncer at the door would allow the detective to enter and retain his weapon. Once inside the dimly lit club, Brass herded us over to a corner where we could plan our next course of action.

"Okay, we're just here to try and locate our suspect," he said, his voice raised somewhat, so he could be heard over the pounding PA system, which was currently blaring Rob Zombie. "I don't want anybody trying to approach him. If any of you spot him, let me know and I'll call for back-up. I repeat, do not try to approach him. Everybody got that?"

He gave both of the boys hard looks and they both nodded obediently.

"That goes for you, too, Mercy," he said, turning his attention to me.

"Yes sir," I said quickly. These instructions were fine with me. I certainly wasn't going to be confronting Vero in a crowded nightclub, filled with witnesses. But just knowing for certain where his hunting grounds were would help me track him later.

We decided to split up. Nick and I would cover one end of the club, while Warrick and Brass would cover the other end. Stokes and I spent the next hour or so, mingling with the club's patrons and discreetly showing them the drawing of Vero. Several people confirmed having seen the big man at the club the night before, but no one had seen him yet tonight. This last bit wasn't news to me. If Vero had been in the club, I would have known it.

As the night progressed, the club began filling up. Generally speaking, I try to avoid crowded places. The press of all the warm bodies and the smell of so much potential food was distracting. My mouth was beginning to water and I had this incredible urge to bite something. The proximity of one particularly desirable body so close to mine, was certainly not helping matters either.

Finally, I turned to said desirable body and asked, "Do you have any gum, by any chance?"

"Yeah, actually I do," Nick said. Digging into a pocket of his chinos, he produced a half empty pack of gum. He handed it to me.

I glanced down at the package. "Bubblegum?" I asked in amusement.

"Yeah, so?" he asked, his tone slightly defensive, daring me to comment further.

I smiled, but said nothing. Good Lord, could this man be any cuter? I handed the pack back to him and popped the chunk of gum into my mouth. Mmm, watermelon flavored.

We were standing with our backs against the rear wall of the club, watching the sea of writhing bodies on the dance floor before us. I shook my head in silent amusement at all the black leather, spiky, black hair and dark make-up. Is this what they really thought vampires looked like? Most of us liked to avoid drawing too much attention to ourselves. It was always so much easier to stalk your prey if you didn't announce what you were to them. Please, pay no attention to that scary-looking man in black creeping up behind you... Honestly, you Breathers were so silly sometimes.

I don't know how long we had been standing there before I became aware of a slight tingling sensation creeping up my spine. I probably should have been aware of it sooner, but the presence of so many people was distracting my attention. That tingling sensation let me know that I was in the vicinity of another vampire. We tended to be a fairly territorial lot and liked to keep track of where each other's hunting grounds were, in order to avoid... hard feelings. In one of my earlier phone calls, I had learned that there were no other vampires currently claiming the Las Vegas area, so this had to be Vero.

Stepping away from the wall, I walked out to the edge of the dance floor. There was a narrow walkway, or balcony which ran around the perimeter of the large club, about ten feet above the ground. Several people were standing, leaning against the railing of this balcony, watching the dancers below. Looking up, I slowly turned around, scanning the balcony. Standing in the shadows in one corner of the balcony, I just caught sight of an even darker shadow, looming behind the people at the railing.

Was that Vero? I couldn't tell, but just in case, I ducked my head before he could catch sight of me and headed back to where Nick was waiting for me, a confused look on his face. Gesturing him closer, I leaned in to speak into his ear. With the addition of all these people, the volume level of the club and increased dramatically.

"Go over to the bar and get a drink," I told him.

"What, why? I can't drink. I'm still on duty."

"Just do it. I'll stay here."

With a shrug, Nick did as I requested. I moved closer to the dance floor to watch as the investigator crossed the large room to the bar, located just beyond the dance floor. Glancing up at the balcony, I looked to see if Vero would notice Nick and take the dangled bait.

Vero didn't move. He just stood where he was, ensconced in the protective shadows. Perhaps he hadn't seen the criminalist. Or perhaps he had become aware of my presence and was too wary of me to show himself. I couldn't be sure. I needed him to see Nick and show enough interest to make him lose his caution.

My thoughts were interrupted as Nick returned to my side, a glass of soda in hand. He leaned close to me and asked, "Was there a point to this?" He gestured to the drink in his hand.

"Maybe," I said. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

I moved several feet away from him and waited to see what Vero would do. Nick just stood where I had left him, looking awkwardly around and giving off an incredibly appealing, lost little boy vibe. If that didn't get Vero's attention, I didn't know what would.

I glanced up at the balcony again. Nothing, Vero still wasn't moving. What the hell? Was the man blind? Come on, Jimbo, what's the matter with you? There's a beautiful man, just your type, standing right there, all alone! What are you waiting for? Go on, make your move!

Nothing... damn it. I had decided that I would wait and give the other vamp a little longer, when I saw a tall, willowy woman with waist-length, dyed-black hair, in a black, leather mini-dress step up to Nick. 'Mortitia' smiled at the criminalist invitingly and said something which I couldn't hear over the sound system, even with my enhanced hearing. This was not going as well as I had hoped.

With a sigh, I headed over to rescue my temporary partner. Now, I am a very tall woman and not petite by any definition and I am not averse to using my size as a means of intimidation. Stepping up to the Goth chick, I leaned over her and fairly growled at her.

"Back off, Princess," I snarled. "That's mine."

She gave a terrified, little squeak and quickly scurried off. Smart girl.

"What did you say to her?" Nick asked, looking impressed.

I shook my head and waved away his question. I was starting to loose my patience.

"Let's go find Brass and Warrick," I said and started to lead the way through the crowd to the area where we had left the other two men.

We found them seated at a small table in a slightly quieter corner, watching the people entering the club and looking bored. Pulling up chairs, we joined them.

"You guys see anything?" Nick asked.

"No," Warrick said.

"Well, he's here," I said flatly.

"He is? How do you know?" Brass asked. "We've been watching the door all night. We didn't see him come in."

"I doubt he came in the front door," I said. "But he's definitely here."

"Well, where is he? I'll call for back-up."

"No, don't do that. I didn't actually see him and I'm not entirely sure where he is. I just know he's here."

"Okay, well, what do you want to do? You want to stick around for a while longer? Try to wait him out."

"No, we may as well take off. He knows I'm here. He's not going to show himself. But before we leave, I want to make a statement. You know, send him a little message."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Don't worry about it. You two just sit tight. Nick, you're with me."

Ignoring the detective's protests, I grabbed Nick's arm and started propelling him toward the dance floor. As we got closer to the mass of writhing people, the investigator managed to get my attention with his repeated attempts to pull out of my grasp. I stopped to look at him.

"I don't dance, especially not to this kind of music" he said, a slight look of panic in his eyes. "Just ask Warrick, he'll tell you. I'm too white and I'm too straight. I look like an idiot."

I smiled slightly and said, "Don't worry, you don't have to do anything. Just stand there and follow my lead."

With a hard tug, I yanked him out onto the crowded dance floor. Roughly pushing my way through the tightly packed dancers, I made my way to the middle of the floor, dragging my reluctant partner behind me. After thoroughly annoying several people, we reached our destination and I stopped, pulling Nick around to face me.

Conveniently at that moment, the club's DJ chose to slow things down considerably. The next song he played was the Bauhaus song 'Hollow Hills', a slow, spooky, atmospheric tune and many people left the dance floor. This suited my purposes just fine as it drew even more attention to Nick and myself. Vero could hardly miss us now.

Placing my hands firmly on Nick's narrow hips, I drew him tightly to me. With my hands guiding his movements, I began to slowly sway in time to the music. Once I felt that he had gotten the hang of the rhythm of the movements, I released him and reached up to begin unbuttoning his shirt.

This, of course, caused him to stop moving and he grabbed my hands. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Follow my lead," I repeated, pushing his hands away and continuing with my task.

Once I had his shirt unbuttoned almost to his waist, I pushed it back, exposing strong, bare shoulders and a lovely expanse of vulnerable neck. Seeing the mixture of embarrassment and anger in his eyes and knowing that any second he would try to pull away again, I firmly grasped the back of the head with my right hand and wrapped my left arm around his waist. I pulled him tight to me again and kissed him deeply.

Now, some of us vampires, particularly we Elders and First Born, have a limited ability to affect the minds of our victims. With physical contact, we can blur their most recent memories slightly, allowing us to drink from them without them remembering it later. This is precisely what I did to Nick during our kiss.

Still kissing him, I pressed him back, forcing him into an elaborate dip. Now under the influence of my 'spell', he was limp and passive in my arms. Breaking off the kiss, I pressed my mouth to his neck, feeling the steady, tantalizing beat of his pulse under my tongue. Abruptly, I bit down, reveling in the brief shudder that passed through his body and the slight groan that escaped his lips. I drank for several minutes.

As I had imagined, he tasted as delicious as he looked and breaking away from that embrace was one of the more difficult things I've had to do in quite awhile. With a quick lick, I cleaned away any lingering traces of blood from his neck and brought him back to an upright position. As I quickly pulled his shirt back up to cover his neck, he swayed slightly on his feet, his eyes still unfocused. I slid an arm around his waist and began leading him back to where we had left Brass and Warrick.

Many of the other dancers stepped aside and openly stared at us as we passed. I smiled smugly to myself. Yes, I'd say that little performance definitely got Vero's attention. There's nothing like a blatant challenge to get another vamp's hackles up. For all intents and purposes, I had just said to Vero, 'Look what I've got! You like? Come and take it away from me. I dare you.'

We found the detective and the other investigator waiting for us at the edge of the dance floor. During my little show, I had deliberately positioned my body so that they couldn't see exactly what I had been doing, but they had apparently seen enough. Brass looked furious. Warrick looked slightly concerned as he stared at his friend's somewhat vacant expression.

"Nick?" he called to the other man. "Hey, man, are you okay?"

"Hmm?" the Texan murmured, starting slightly as though waking from a dream. "What? Y-yeah, I'm fine."

"Well, you might want to..." Warrick said vaguely, gesturing to the other man's chest.

Nick looked down and realized that his shirt was still gaping open. With a slight, embarrassed gasp, he quickly buttoned it back up.

While the two younger men talked, Brass sidled up to stand beside me. He was practically radiating his anger.

"What the hell was that little display all about?" he demanded hotly.

"I told you. I was sending a message to Vero," I said.

"Oh? And just what message was that?"

"Well, that's between he and I. Trust me, he got the message."

"Yeah? Well, apparently you didn't get the message I tried to convey to you earlier," Brass said, with a quick glance at Nick.

"No, I got it. I just chose to ignore it."

"We'll talk about this later," he said, through clenched teeth.

"I can hardly wait." I turned to address the two younger men. "Come on, kids, let's go. Our work here is done, for the night anyway."

I led the way toward the exit feeling like I was floating a foot or so off the ground. I could almost feel Brass' eyes boring holes into my back like laser beams, but I didn't care. I was literally drunk with the feeling of Nick's blood singing through my veins. Hell, this was better than alcohol. This was better than drugs. I felt fabulous. I could get used to this.

To be continued...