10/3/05

THOSE WHO HUNT THE NIGHT

Chapter 3

The ride back to the lab was very quiet. Despite my lingering euphoria, I wasn't in the mood to chat. My body was still too keyed up and tuned in to Nick's to be able to concentrate on conversation. Hell, it was taking all of my self-control to keep from launching myself at the man and pinning him to the bench seat.

Brass was still fuming in the front seat and I could actually hear his teeth grinding. The boys sat silent and uncomfortable, like two kids who know that Mom and Dad had a fight and are still mad at each other. The trip seemed to last an eternity.

Arriving back at the P.D. complex, I tagged along with the boys back to the lab, hoping to avoid the lecture from Brass. Apparently it worked. He left us and headed off toward his own office. The boys clocked out and Nick politely offered to walk me to my car. I had noticed that Warrick's demeanor toward me had cooled considerable in that last hour or so. Evidently he shared at least some of Brass' opinions of me.

Out in the parking lot, Nick and I arrived at my car. I turned to face him expectantly, hoping that, after our passionate kiss (which, thanks to me, was all he remembered) on the dance floor, he might invite me back to his home or at least out for a drink. Unfortunately no such invitation was offered. With a softly spoken good-night, he left me and headed for his own vehicle, which I noted was a black SUV.

I didn't return to my hotel room. I left the parking lot, but circled around and discreetly followed Nick to his house. I spent the remainder of the night sitting in my car outside the small house, watching for Vero.

After a few hour of this vigil, it was still fully dark, but dawn was only a couple of hours away. The lights were all off in Nick's house and the neighborhood was quiet and peaceful, a perfect example of slumbering middle-class America. I wondered how the neighbors would have reacted had they known that a vampire sat on their street.

I sighed in exasperation. I am normally a very patient hunter, but not tonight. I hadn't seen a glimpse of Jimmy, nor had I feel the tell-tale tingle up my spine. Where was he? Was he not interested in Nick? If Vero was going to strike, it would be soon, before dawn, before his powers started to wane.

The Fledglings were much more sensitive to sunlight than we older vamps. You see, unlike you Breathers, we get better with age. Our powers increase and we even become less dependent on blood to sustain us. I, in fact, only Fed once a month or so. And even then, it was little more than a drink, as I had done with Nick. Fledglings required much more blood than that to sustain them.

Usually my little drinks were enough to satisfy me for several weeks, but his time I found myself craving more. Even as I sat there, remembering the taste of Nick's blood, the feel of his flesh against my mouth and his body pressed to mine, I felt an overwhelming need to act, to break down his door and...

I needed some fresh air. Stepping out of the car, I decided I would do a little reconnoitering. Moving silently, I crossed the street and stepped onto Nick's small front lawn. I slowly circled the house, checking for any open windows, any trees or other hiding places close to the house. I found nothing amiss, but then I hadn't really expected to. I knew that Stokes' house had a security system. I saw him key in the code when he entered the house. I was just being overly cautious.

Making my way back to the front of the house, I paused near the bedroom window. As it faced the street, I had been watching it earlier. I had seen Nick's vague silhouette through the curtains as he'd presumably been getting ready for bed.

Overcome the sudden, powerful need to look at the sleeping man, I crept closer to the window. I crouched down beneath the window sill. There was a line of low shrubs here that would nicely screen me from the street, should any cars pass by. Slowly I raised myself up and peered into the room through the narrow gap in the curtains.

Positioning myself just right, I could see the man sprawled out on the bed, opposite the window. He was lying on his stomach, his face turned away from me. He had kicked the covers aside in his sleep and I was treated to quite an eyeful of smooth, bare skin, of long, strong legs, tight, round ass, and lovely, toned shoulders and arms. Even asleep, the man was beautiful.

Even now, I don't really know how long I stood there, watching Stokes, but when I next glanced around me, the first blush of dawn was beginning to pinken the eastern horizon. I gave my head a slight shake, trying to dispel the reverie I had slipped into. With morning approaching, I really did need to get away from Nick's window before one of his neighbors spotted me and called the police. With Brass already irked with me, I wasn't sure I could count on the captain to vouch for me, especially when he found out where I had been and what I had been doing.

I seriously doubted that Vero would show up this late. As a Fledgling, he would avoid the sun and hunker down for the day. Looking around to make sure that I wasn't being observed, I left the cover of the shrubs and returned to my car.

As I was about to climb into the vehicle, I noticed a slip of paper stuck under the windshield wiper. It hadn't been there when I left the car. Freeing the paper, I unfolded it and read the thick, heavy, block lettered script.

'What's the matter, Mercy? Did the pretty boy leave you out in the cold? That's too bad, maybe I should keep him company. Requiem.'

Vero! I fumed. Damn it! He was here, right under my nose and I was so busy obsessing over Stokes that I completely missed him! Damn it! I don't believe that I let myself get distracted like that. I've got to get my head back in the game or I'm going to be made a fool of by a goddamned Fledgling!

I was still fuming when my cell phone rang. With a sigh, I opened the car door and sat down in the driver's seat. I answered the phone with a weary 'hello.'

"Aw, you sound tired, Mercy, did I wake you?" came Capt. Brass' cold voice.

Remembering that I was supposed to have been sleeping, I endeavored to make my voice sound groggy. "Yes, you did. What can I do for you, Captain? Or did you call with the express purpose of waking me up?"

"As appealing as that sounds, no, I did have a reason. We found another body in another motel room, same signature."

I sighed. Vero must have come here directly from the motel. How did he find the house? Had he tracked me? I hadn't exactly been trying to mask myself from him, but most Fledglings weren't terribly adept at tracking. Apparently, Jimmy was even trickier than I had originally given him credit for.

Brass gave me the address of the motel and I said that I would be there as quickly as I could. I sat for a moment, trying to get a handle on my rather frazzled emotions. I glanced over at the house one last time. While I was looking, I saw the light come on in Nick's bedroom. Evidently he had just gotten a similar phone call. I resisted the urge to rush over and peek in his window again.

No, I admonished myself sternly, get your head back in the game. You have messed up enough already. With a supreme effort I forced myself to close the car door and started the engine. I drove back to my hotel to take a quick, cold shower and change my clothes before heading out to the motel Brass had indicated.

Arriving at the motel, I entered the room, to find Nick and Warrick already there, as well as a third man I didn't recognize. He was of average height and build, with heavily graying dark hair, and a neatly trimmed darker beard. He was handsome in a remote, academic sort of way. He looked as if he should have been standing at the front of a lecture hall, instead of beside a horrifically mutilated corpse.

And the body was a mess, even more gruesome than Jimmy's previous work. Apparently I wasn't the only one feeling a little frustrated after leaving the nightclub last night, or a few hours ago... whatever.

Nick paused in photographing the body and turned to me with a smile. "Hey, Mercy," he greeted me.

I returned the smile, but then had to look away quickly as my mind flashed back to the memory of him lying naked on his bed... I looked over at Warrick and smiled my greeting. He lifted his chin coolly in acknowledgment, but said nothing. The older man completely ignored my presence and continued to stare fixedly at the body.

This rather tense silence was broken as Brass entered the room. "I briefly spoke to the manager and he said the white Trans Am out front is the victim's," he announced. "We should get it towed back to the lab."

"Good idea," the Professor said, speaking up for the first time. He turned to address Stokes. "Nick, go call for a tow truck then stay with the car. When the truck gets here, go back to the lab and start processing the car."

"Okay," the younger man responded. He gave me a slight grin as he walked past me. Collecting his kit from where it lay near the door, he left the room.

"Warrick, why don't you go with Brass back to the manager. This place looks to be a little nicer than the first motel, maybe it has some kind of surveillance system," the older man said.

After the other two men had left, the Professor finally turned to me. His expression was cold and haughty. I half expected him to say something like, 'Ms. Trudeau, I'm very disappointed in your performance on your last exam.' He didn't, of course.

In fact, it was me who spoke first. "So I take it that you wanted to speak to me alone?"

"Yes, I'm Gil Grissom, the supervisor of the Graveyard Shift," he said.

"Special Agent Mercy Trudeau," I said, extending my hand.

He ignored that hand and continued to stare at me disdainfully. "Agent Trudeau, I'm going to tell you the same thing I told your colleague, Agent Culpepper, a few years ago. I don't allow my CSIs to be used as bait."

"Excuse me?" I asked, feigning innocence (don't laugh).

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. I took the liberty of having the FBI fax over the case files for Vero. Those files included a victim profile."

Pulling out a manila file folder from the briefcase at his feet, he opened it and read from a sheet inside. "Victim profile for James Randall Vero: all victims have been very attractive, aged 25-35, dark hair, clean cut, athletic build. Did you think I wouldn't notice that this exactly describes Nick Stokes? Or that this victim resembles him?" he pointed to the corpse on the bed.

"Both Capt. Brass and Warrick told me about your little performance at the nightclub," he continued. "Brass told me that you said you were trying to send Vero a message. That message didn't have anything to do with Nick, did it?"

"Okay, yes, I did try to use Nick as bait," I said after a moment. "But obviously, it didn't work. He didn't bite. Apparently Stokes isn't Vero's type after all."

"Vero probably wasn't even at the club, for which you were incredibly lucky. You endangered my CSIs life and you didn't even have the courtesy to tell anyone what you were doing! What if Vero had come looking for Nick!"

"I was outside Stokes' house all night. Vero never showed. Obviously, he already had his hands full," I said, gesturing to the body.

Grissom sighed loudly and I could tell that he was only just managing to keep his temper in check. "You, all by yourself, were going to protect Nick from a psychotic serial killer?"

"Yes. With all due respect, Mr. Grissom, I've been at this job for a long time. I know what I'm doing and I don't need LVPD getting in my way."

Grissom's eyebrows rose so high, they almost disappeared into his hairline. "Unfortunately, Ms. Trudeau, I cannot remove you from this case, as the FBI has jurisdiction, but I can remove Nick. As something comes up, I will be reassigning him to a different case."

"Fine," I said calmly.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I have a crime scene to process," he said, gesturing to the door.

Apparently I was being dismissed. Deciding to hold my tongue for the time being, I left the room. Outside the motel room, I stood blinking in the anemic, early morning light. A few feet away, Nick was dusting the Trans Am's door handles for prints. Rather than stopping to chat with him, I returned to my car and drove to the LVPD complex. I spent the next few hours on my cell phone with my 'unofficial' contacts, trying to learn as much as I could about Jimmy Vero.

Normally I never bothered with this step. I could generally track down any vamp with only the minimal background information. I hadn't even bothered with that victim profile that Grissom had referred to. Of course, I had come to the same conclusion as the profile, without it. That was generally how I worked, by instinct and experience.

Unfortunately that approach wasn't working this time. Vero was proving to be trickier than I had given him credit for and I was finding myself increasingly distracted by the presence of Nick Stokes. This hunt was not going the way that I had planned. As much as I hated to do so, I was going to have to ask for some help this time.

I called Tristan who, like me, worked 'special cases' for the FBI. Yes, Tristan was a vampire as well. He and I had even occasionally worked together. After I got through to him on his cell phone, I asked him to get me the dirt on Vero. You know, the real dirt, the stuff that wasn't in the official files. The stuff I usually ignored.

He got back to me about twenty minutes later. "You know, I gotta say, I was pretty shocked to hear from you," Tristan said, apparently unable to resist giving me crap. "I mean, the great Mercy Trudeau is calling for information? Is the world coming to an end?"

"Yeah, yeah, real funny, Tristan, just give me the gouge."

"Hey, I don't get many opportunities to rag on you, so give me a break. Anyway, I can see why this guy is giving you trouble. He's pretty hardcore. By the way, when the Council contacted you to have you take him out, did they happen to mention who his Sire was?"

"No and I didn't ask. Why, who is it?"

"Was... Sophia."

Sophia... hmm, I know her. She's an Elder, very strong. That might explain why Vero was so good, he had good blood. The rule of thumb in the vampire world was, the stronger the Sire, the stronger the Fledgling.

"Wait a minute, why would Sophia share The Gift with a loose cannon, like Vero?" I asked. "She knows better than that."

"Good question. And the answer is, she didn't share The Gift. Vero took it."

"What?" I asked, stunned. "That's impossible."

"Evidently not. I don't know how he found out that she was a vampire, but he must have. He ambushed her during the day, when she was at her weakest. Then he dragged her off to his cabin in the swamp. Apparently he slit his own wrists, waited until he was about to pass out then slit her wrist and drank her blood. He drank her dry."

"You mean Sophia's gone? She faded?"

"Yeah, Sophia's gone."

Damn him, I thought, still in shock. I liked Sophia... Let me tell you Children something, it's a wonderful feeling knowing you are at the top of the food chain. It's one of those little ironies we love to rub your faces in. Ya'll think you're the top of the food chain, but really, it's us. But now that I was seeing those tables turned on me, I didn't like it one damn bit. Oh yeah, this animal was definitely going down.

"Why the hell didn't anyone from The Council tell me any of this?" I demanded abruptly.

"I don't know. Maybe they figured you didn't need to know. Maybe they thought if you had enough trouble with Vero, it would teach you some humility."

"Teach me humility?"

"You've stepped on a lot of toes over the years, Merce. You might want to watch your back."

"Thanks for the warning, Tris, and the information."

"No problem. Be careful, Mercy, despite his lack of years, this guy's no lightweight."

"Yeah, I'm beginning to see that."

Hanging up the phone, I decided to clear my head a bit by checking in with the kids in the lab, you know, pretend I actually cared about all the evidence they were so meticulously gathering. As far as I was concerned, it was just busy work. The evidence was irrelevant, since I, of course, had absolutely no intention of taking Vero to trial. But it kept LVPD out of my way, while I did my job, which was tracking and executing Vero.

Arriving at the Crime Lab, I wandered around until I found a familiar face. Warrick was in a small room, filled with very expensive looking equipment, watching a monitor in the company of yet another pretty, little boy (where do they find them all? I'm beginning to think prettiness is a requirement for employment here). This new boy was young, Asian and very pretty indeed (in fact, he was a little too pretty for my personal tastes, but then again, I wouldn't have kicked him out of my bed for snoring).

"What are we looking at?" I asked, coming to stand beside Warrick, behind the pretty Asian boy.

"Uh, this is the surveillance footage of the motel lobby that the manager gave us," Warrick responded.

I turned to look at the monitor as well. They were fast-forwarding through several hours' worth of tape.

"Okay, it's coming up right here," the technician said. "This is what I was telling you about."

He paused the screen. It was showing two men approaching the front desk. One man, who was quite a bit shorter than the other, was obviously the victim. The frozen picture showed him quite clearly. The taller, larger man beside him, presumably Vero, was almost completely shadowed. He face was unrecognizable.

"See, look at that," the young AV tech said, pointing at Vero. "I don't know what's causing that shadow. I've tried every algorithm I can think of. Nothing will clear it up or bring out any more detail. I've tried filters, refocusing the pixels... nothing. I don't know what else to do."

"Hmm," Warrick mused, leaning closer to the screen. "Yeah, that doesn't make any sense. The vic is clear as a bell, but Vero's completely shadowed and, from what I can see, there's no reason for that shadow to be there."

"Exactly."

Warrick turned to me with a slightly sheepish expression. He seemed embarrassed that they couldn't provide the proof that the shadowy figure was Vero.

"Archie and I'll keep working on this," he assured me.

"Oh, just do your best," I said.

I could have told them what the problem was. You see, that old myth about not being able to photograph vampires is true, sort of. We can be photographed, just not very well. And by that, I don't mean that we aren't photogenic. I mean that something about us interferes with the film in the cameras. Digital cameras do a better job, but even they can't fully capture us.

I think it has something to do with our electrical fields. You see, the human body is basically an organic computer, controlled by the brain. The brain communicates with the body by means of electrical impulses. As a result, humans, and vampires, generate their own small electrical fields. With you Breathers, that field is fairly negligible. Ours seem to be stronger. I'm not really sure why. I mean, it's not as if we've ever done any studies on this or anything. This is just my theory. Anyway, I think our electrical fields interfere with the film in some way.

You should see the picture on my FBI ID badge. It's completely fuzzy. The technician who took the photo must have tried a dozen times to get the picture in focus. He finally just gave up and went with the best one.

"So, where's Nick?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

Warrick gave me a hard look for a few seconds before answering. "He's in the garage, processing the vic's car."

Leaving the boys to chase their tails, I followed Warrick's directions to the garage. I found Nick and a young, dark-haired woman apparently just finishing up their work on the Trans Am. They were both in the process of stripping off their blue coveralls.

"Find anything interesting?" I asked.

"Not really," Nick answered, "a lot of fingerprints, a few hairs, but that's about it."

I nodded. The brunette and I eyed each other suspiciously. Noting this, Nick made the introductions.

"Mercy, this is CSI Sara Sidle. Sara, Special Agent Mercy Trudeau," he said.

We smiled coolly at each other and nodded our greetings. An uncomfortable silence settled around the three of us. I looked back at Nick pointedly. I was hoping to talk to him alone. Eventually the brunette got the hint.

"Uh, okay, I'll just go and start the reports on the car," she said. "You can look them over and sign off on them when you come in tonight."

"Yeah, okay, thanks, Sara."

"No problem. See you later." She gave me another cool nod then left the garage.

"Are you leaving?" I asked, my hopes lifting.

"Yeah, Grissom told me to go home when Sara and I finished with the car," he said, his tone slightly bitter. "Evidently I'm going to be reassigned to the first case that comes up, tonight."

Realizing this bitterness was directed at me, I said, "This is because of my little stunt at the nightclub, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Listen, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to get you in trouble with your boss. Tell you what, how 'bout I make it up to you and buy you a drink?"

"Buy me a drink?" he repeated, glancing at his watch. "Mercy, it's noon."

"Oh, is it?" I said. "Sorry, my internal clock is so messed up. I don't know how you people work these screwed up hours." Okay, yeah, so I was lying through my teeth, but hey, all's fair in the pursuit of sex.

"You get used to it," he said. "You know, if you really wanted to make it up to me, you could buy me lunch. I'm starving."

"You're on. Let's go."

"I've got to stop by my locker, but I'll meet you in the parking lot."

When he joined me, we agreed on a nice, little restaurant which wasn't too far from the police station. We took separate vehicles, with the ostensible purpose of going our separate ways after lunch, but I of course, had other plans for dessert.

Now, as you can probably imagine, vampires in restaurants is a little awkward and tricky. We, of course, don't eat. And people tend to get a little suspicious if they never see you eat. I couldn't tell you how many times I've been accused of being anorexic.

So, I ordered something small, claiming not to be very hungry and spent the entire time, rearranging the food on my plate and discreetly pretending to eat. If Nick noticed this, he was enough of a gentleman not to comment on it. We chatted about the case, our jobs and our co-workers. I made a point of touching his hand frequently and repeatedly 'accidentally' brushing my leg against his. I was rather shameless really. I mean, I couldn't have been any more obvious than if I had simply crawled into his lap, which had also crossed my mind.

Now, let me explain here that, in case ya'll haven't figured it out already, we vampires are very sexual creatures. We love sex about as much as we love blood. If the legends about us being directly descended from Lilith are true, that would explain much of it. In Jewish folklore, she was considered to be a succubus. There's also the fact that we cannot Feed during the day. But just because we are incapable of it, doesn't mean that the desire to, goes away. Sex can be a very pleasant diversion from that... frustration.

With lunch finally over, we found ourselves standing beside our respective vehicle, awkwardly trying to figure out what to do next. Being that I'm a forward kind of girl, and I was growing increasingly uncomfortable in the intense, Nevada sunshine, I decided to go for the tactlessly blunt approach.

"Why don't we go back to my hotel? We could have that drink or whatever..." I said.

Somewhat to my surprise, Nick trumped me by saying, "My house is only a couple of blocks from here."

Oh, why, yes, it is, I thought. Even better, we could have our clothes off that much faster.

I followed him to his quiet, little neighborhood, since of course, there should have been no reason for me to know where he lived, and I parked in front of his house, while he pulled into the driveway. He waited for me while I crossed the street. I surreptitiously looked over his shoulder while he keyed in the code to his alarm system, memorizing the number.

Inside the house, I barely even paused to look around me, before I grabbed Nick and pressed him back against the nearest wall, kissing him deeply. He chuckled softly, but made no move to push me away. He parted his lips willingly for my eagerly probing tongue. My hands were roaming freely over his taut body, but there was entirely too much cloth in the way of my total enjoyment.

Without breaking off the kiss, I reached down and yanked the hem of his white t-shirt free of his pants. At this point, we were forced to step apart in order for me to peel the snug shirt off. He raised his arms accommodatingly and I pulled the shirt up over his head. I let it drop to the floor and had to step back for a moment to admire the newly exposed chest and stomach... oh, lovely.

I must say, that Nick Stokes had a beautiful body. It was wonderfully toned and muscular and yet was still lean and slender. And best of all, no nasty chest hair to obscure those lovely lines of muscle. Reaching out, I pressed one hand flat against his chest. Sliding it down, over his stomach, I grabbed onto his belt and pulled him close again.

As we resumed kissing, he slid his hands up my arms and grasped the lapels of my suit jacket. He pushed it off my shoulders and it slithered down my back to join his shirt on the floor. Never pausing in my attempts to bring as much of our bodies into direct contact as possible, I began slowly maneuvering Nick toward the bedroom. If it occurred to him to wonder how I knew which direction that room lay in, he gave no indication. Hopefully, his mind was too distracted to function logically.

Finally arriving at the bedroom, I maneuvered him up against the bed and gave him a hard shove, sending him sprawling back onto it. He took a moment to quickly untie his boots and kick them off, before he scooted back to a more stable position on the double bed. I took the opportunity to slip out of my sensible, low-heeled shoes as well.

Once Nick had settled himself in a comfortable position, I joined him on the bed. Swinging a leg over him, I straddled his narrow hips and leaned over to resume the foreplay. I felt his hands slide up my sides to my shoulders then up to cradle my head. I felt his strong fingers comb through my short, dark hair.

Oh, yeah, it was all good. Everything was progressing quite nicely. I slid my hands down his sides, enjoying the tactile ripple of muscle and ribs, to his waist. Having managed to unbuckle his belt, I was just undoing the front of his jeans and about to reach for paradise, when his entire body gave a slight shudder and stiffened. I felt his hands grasp my shoulders firmly and he pushed me away.

I rolled off to one side as he abruptly sat up. I watched as he brought a slightly shaking hand up to brush through his hair. We were both breathing heavily and his entire body was visibly trembling... Okay, this was not exactly the reaction I was going for. He looked down at me and gave me small, apologetic smile.

"I'm really sorry," he whispered, "but I just can't do this. I'm sorry."

"What is it? What's wrong?" I asked, reaching out to touch his face, hoping to calm him and gently encourage him to get back in the mood.

Catching hold of my hand, he gently, but firmly, pushed it away.

"Look, a few months ago, I was involved in a..."

"I know what happened," I said quickly, not wanting him to dwell on any unpleasant thoughts. "I heard about it from a few of the officers in the station."

He nodded absently. "Yeah, I kind of figured you would. Anyway, I haven't... been with anyone since then. Frankly, I haven't really even wanted to. My shrink said that when my body was ready, it would let me know. I do want you, Mercy, and I thought that maybe... Listen, I'm sorry, but I just don't think I'm ready for this yet. I know I led you on and everything, but I'm sorry, I just can't do this."

"It's okay, don't worry about it," I said, laying a hand on his thigh and trying to sound all supportive and understanding, but really not yet ready to give up the fight. I mean, come on, we were so close!

"I'm sorry, Mercy, but I think you should leave," he said gently. "I have to work later tonight and I need to get some sleep."

"Okay," I said softly, still trying to sound understanding, despite the fact that every cell in my body was screaming in frustration.

I climbed off the bed and stepped back into my shoes. Back out in the living room, I retrieved my jacket and slipped it on. Thankfully, Nick had remained in the bedroom and hadn't seen me to the door. That would have been entirely too humiliating. I let myself out the door and stood for a moment on his front step, squinting in the brutal sunlight, hoping maybe it could purge me of the lingering remnants of lust that still coursed through my body.

With a resigned sigh, I started for my car. I had just reached it, when my cell phone rang. Thinking it was probably Brass and really not being in the mood to deal with his pissy ass, I answered the phone a bit more brusquely than usual.

"Trudeau," I snapped.

"My, my, is someone feeling a little frustrated?" a deep, sneering voice asked. "What's the matter, did the pretty boy deny you, yet again? You're losing your touch, Mercy."

"How the hell did you get this number, Vero?" And how the hell did he know that Nick had kicked me out? Was he watching the house? I quickly glanced around me. Nothing but bland, middle-class suburbia, as far as the eyes could see.

"Oh, I have my connections, just as you have yours. But you're changing the subject. Your success rate with the pretty boy is down-right dismal. Maybe he needs a real vampire, a real man. You know, someone like me."

Vero continued talking, telling me in graphic detail exactly what he'd like to do to Nick when he finally got a hold of the investigator, but I wasn't listening anymore. I was wondering if it was possible for Brass to have the call traced and how long it would take. Letting Jimmy continue to spew his venom, I climbed back into my car and headed back to the police station.

To be continued...

Author's note: FYI to anyone who cares, I have this wonderful book, titled "The Vampire Book: the Encyclopedia of the Undead". Among other things, this book describes the many different legends about vampires from the various different cultures of the world. Different cultures have different ideas of what a vampire is and does. Now obviously a lot of what I'm describing is made up (and of course, a big nod to Anne Rice, even though I don't particularly like her books), but I'm also taking a lot from the Gypsy notions of what a vampire is.

According to Gypsy folklore, vampires can move about during the day. They aren't killed by sunlight. But they have no powers. They are essentially 'normal' humans at that time. The Gypsies also believe that vampires have insatiable sexual appetites. They believe that vampires not only weaken their victims by draining their blood, but by wearing them out sexually as well. I always rather liked that concept. I mean, there's just something incredibly sexual about vampires. I think it's the whole sucking thing.

Also, if anyone wants to know, a lot of the info about Lilith came from another wonderful book of mine, called "A Field Guide to Demons."

Thanks to everyone for the great reviews. I was a little worried about how this story might be received. I'm glad to see that so many people are keeping an open mind and apparently, I'm not alone in my fascination with vampires.