11/6/05
THOSE WHO HUNT THE NIGHT
Chapter 8
It was dusk by the time I returned to the cabin. I found Nick still asleep on the couch. The fire had died down to glowing embers and the large room was quite cold. I quickly set to work building the fire back up. The cabin had a small furnace, which I also turned up. Afterward, I settled myself in a well-padded chair across from the couch and simply sat watching him sleep.
He looked so peaceful and young, lying there, even despite the faint stubble that shadowed his jaw line. He was curled up on his side, with his hands tucked under his head as a pillow. As he was lying in front of the fireplace, he brought to my mind, a child who has fallen asleep while waiting for Santa to come down the chimney.
Once again, it occurred to me that I could force him to accept The Gift. Perhaps I would be strong enough to prevent any problems from occurring. Forcing The Gift on another was against Vampire Law, but it was a law that was frequently broken and there was no real punishment for it. The results of such actions were usually punishment enough.
When The Gift was forced upon someone who received it unwillingly, it did strange things to that person. Whenever The Gift is shared, the person receiving it is changed somewhat. They become predators. It's only natural that their personalities would be altered at least a little. If a person was shy and timid before their transformation, it was only natural that they would lose some of that timidity, but for the most part, their personality would remain intact. But when The Gift was forced upon someone, for some reason, the personality changes were always far more drastic.
I had personally seen a woman who had previously been a kindergarten teacher and had been a very kind and loving person, turned into a blood-thirsty monster, who easily rivaled Jimmy Vero in ferocity, after The Gift had been forced upon her. I knew about this, because I had been dispatched to execute her. In fact, many of the vamps I was sent to execute, were those who had been transformed unwillingly.
Could I do this Nick? Could I take the chance that he might be strong enough, to stop himself from becoming a monster? Was it even possible to be 'strong' enough? No one knew exactly why it was that, those who were unwilling, so often became monsters. There were a few who hadn't become monsters, but even they hadn't survived for long. Often they would refuse to Feed and simply allowed themselves to fade.
I had said that I didn't want Nick dead. If I forced the transformation upon him, would I simply be condemning him to an even worse fate? And I knew that if he did become a monster, I would be the one ordered to execute him. Could I do that? I realized that I honestly didn't know if I could.
I didn't know how long I had been sitting there, watching him, when he stirred in his sleep. He mumbled softly and shifted around onto his back. As he did so, the sleeping bag slid off his body, to bunch up at the foot of the couch. Still half-asleep, he reached blindly around for the sleeping bag. Standing, I moved to the couch and picked it up. As I spread it over him, he opened his eyes and looked up at me.
I sat down on the edge of the couch and we just stared at each other. It was fully dark by now and, as I hadn't turned any lamps on, the only light came from the nearby fireplace. Nick looked beautiful, his dark eyes very black and his pale skin almost luminous in the dim, warm glow.
"What happens now?" he asked at last.
"I don't know," I said softly.
"Are you going to kill me?"
"I should. You've seen too much. I've told you too much."
I saw fear in his dark eyes, but also a sort of terrible resignation that almost broke my heart to see. I reached out and gently caressed his jaw, enjoying the roughness of his stubble under the pad of my thumb. Slowly, I slid my hand down to his neck. I could feel his pulse racing beneath my fingers and as I pressed them lightly against the bandage that covered the wound on his neck, I felt his body shudder and arch slightly. He closed his eyes and a single tear escaped, to slide down his temple and disappear into his hair.
I leaned down close to him and whispered, "If you joined me, I wouldn't have to kill you. You would be one of us and everything would be alright."
He opened his eyes and looked up at me. "So, you're saying that others have to die, so that I can live? No, I can't exist like that."
"Nick, please..."
"No."
A sudden anger flared in me. I had risked everything to save him and now I was offering him immortality and he was turning me down. He was treating me like I was some monster like Jimmy Vero. I wasn't a monster. I was the slayer of monsters! Who the hell was this Breather to treat me like an aberration! He was nothing more than food!
With a sudden snarl, I lunged at Nick. He gasped and his body arched up against mine as my teeth penetrated his neck. His blood was as hot and sweet as I remembered. He was already so weak that it took only a couple sips, before he passed out. As I felt his body go limp beneath me, reality came crashing back down and I realized what I was doing. My anger vanished as quickly as it had flared. I released him immediately and stepped back from the couch.
Oh God, what have I done! The whole point of bringing him here was to keep him alive and here I was trying to drain him! Maybe I was more of a monster than I realized. Was there really so little separating me from the likes of Jimmy Vero? Did all it take was frustrated passion for me to breakdown completely?
With a slightly shaking hand, I checked Nick's pulse. It was there, thready and weak, but it was there. Not trusting myself to remain too close to him, I stepped back and sat in the chair on the other side of the small room. I sat for a long time, just staring at him and willing him to get stronger.
Several hours later, or maybe it was only a few minutes, I became aware that the fire was dying down again. I knew I couldn't let it die. Nick needed to stay warm. Standing, I went to the fireplace and threw on a couple more chucks of wood. Poking the embers a bit, I watched as the flames licked up greedily towards the fresh fuel.
"Well, well, I never thought I'd live to see the day that the great Mercy Trudeau was reduced to little more than a nurse maid."
I had been so distracted by my conflicted emotions that I had gotten careless. I hadn't heard the other vamp approach or taken note of the tingling along my spine. Stupid mistakes! At least I had had the presence of mind to keep my bokken handy. It was leaning up against the chair, within arms' reach. With a burst of speed, I grabbed the weapon and spun around. I had the sword at the intruder's throat before he could even make a move to defend himself.
"Hello, Mercy," the other vampire said calmly, a slight smile playing about his lips.
It took a moment for it to register in my mind, the close-cropped, blond hair, the pale green eyes, the scattering of light freckles across the nose and cheeks...
"Tristan!" I breathed in relief, letting the sword fall away from his throat.
"You're being careless, Mercy," Tristan said. "When was the last time I was able to sneak up on you? And this time I wasn't even really trying."
"Yeah," I agreed softly, feeling more than a little self-conscious. "It's this hunt. It's gotten me all worked up."
"Yes, I know. We've been paying attention."
"Oh?...We?"
"Yes, the Council," he said simply and turned away from me to look down at Nick, lying on the couch. "So, this is the one whose been causing all the problems, huh?"
I felt my stomach tighten slightly as Tristan bent closer, to get a better look at the unconscious man. The vampire put a couple of fingers under Nick's chin and turned his face toward the light.
"Well, he's certainly handsome. I'll give him that, although he doesn't look too good right now." Tristan straightened up and turned back to me. "But really, Mercy, is he worth all this trouble?"
I didn't say anything.
"His co-workers are raising hell at the Bureau. They want answers and they want your head on a platter."
"Is that who sent you, the Bureau?" I asked.
"No, so far, they're covering your ass, although I wouldn't push their patience too far. They want some answers, too. No, the Council sent me."
"What do they want?"
"They want your ass in their chamber immediately, as in, yesterday. You fucked up, Merce. They're not happy."
"I have been at the Council's beck and call for centuries," I said defensively. "I have never messed up before now. I think I deserve a little latitude."
"Mercy, you let the Las Vegas Crime Lab find Vero's body! You left evidence of yourself all over Stokes' house. You kidnapped a law enforcement officer. Did you honestly think the Council would overlook all that?"
"It doesn't matter," I said. "Alright, so they have Vero's body. So what? They're not going to be able to prove anything, not definitively. They have a body whose condition they can't explain. They have a few blood samples, which contain a mysterious DNA strain, they also can't explain. Do you honestly think Gil Grissom, one of the most respected scientists in his field, is going to stand up and say that he has proof of vampirism?"
Now, it was Tristan who was silent.
"No, he isn't," I answered for him. "Oh, the man might actually be thinking it. He might even speculate about it, privately. But he's not going to say anything publicly or professionally. He'd be the laughing stock of the entire forensic world. He has unanswered questions, but no real proof of anything."
"Alright," Tristan said at last, giving a slight shrug. "You're probably right. You can explain all this to the Council. You've got a pretty good point. They'll probably listen to you, especially if you redeem yourself by dealing appropriately with him." Tristan gestured to Nick.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, although I knew exactly what Tristan was getting at. "What would be 'appropriate'?"
The blond vampire folded his arms across his chest and gave me an exasperated look. "You know he can't live, Mercy. It's one thing to forgive questionable evidence, but it's another thing altogether to excuse an eyewitness. He's seen too much. I'm guessing that, since you brought him here, you offered him The Gift. And I'm also guessing that, since he's not in transition, he refused it... He knows too much. He has to die, Mercy. You know that. It's the Law."
"He's not going to tell anyone either," I said, a note of desperation starting to creep into my voice. "He's a scientist as well. No one would believe him either. Hell, he doesn't even have Grissom's reputation. Nick would be even less likely to be believed. Besides, his statements could be easily written off to hallucinations brought on by blood loss and head trauma."
"It doesn't work that way, Mercy, and you know it," Tristan said softly. "We cannot allow an eyewitness to live. If we allow it too often, eventually people might actually start to listen."
"Surely the Council could make an exception this once. I have never asked them for anything," I said softly. "I can't kill him," I added in a whisper.
A strangely thoughtful look came over Tristan's face and abruptly he smiled at me, almost wistfully.
"What?" I demanded, unnerved by that tender look from my long-time, killing partner.
"You're in love with him," the other vampire said simply.
"Don't be ridiculous!" I snapped.
"You are. You're in love with him. That's what all of this was about. It wasn't just the usual lust or fascination. You actually went and fell in love with him... After all these years... and he refused The Gift. God, Mercy, I'm so sorry."
"Shut up! I don't need your pity!" I turned away from him and stared angrily into the fire.
Love was not an emotion which came naturally to us vampires, but some of us did experience it from time to time. Usually it was love between two vampires, but occasionally, it was the love of a vampire for a human. Perhaps it's because vampire love is so uncommon, but when we love, we love for life, which for a vampire, is a very long time.
If a vampire loses their chosen love, it can be fatal. Yes, we actually can, and frequently do, fade from a broken heart. This was why it was considered very unwise to fall in love with a mortal, eventually they die. Now, if said mortal could be persuaded to accept The Gift, everything could work out just fine. But if the mortal refused The Gift, it could very well prove to be a death sentence for the vampire.
I felt Tristan's hands rest on my shoulders. When he spoke, his voice was unusually gentle. "It's still early yet, Mercy. Maybe your love won't have had the time to become strong enough to... I understand now why you couldn't kill him. Don't worry about it. My car is out front. Why don't you get in and wait for me. I'll take care of this. I'll be quick."
Without thinking, I spun around and grabbed Tristan by the throat, my finger digging deeply into his skin. "You touch him and I'll rip your throat out!" I spat, my face inches from his.
"Mercy!" he hissed at me in surprise. "What the hell? You know the Laws. You swore to uphold them. He has to die! Is he really more important to you than our traditions?"
"Yes!"
We stood staring at each other for a long time. I was sure Tristan was searching my eyes, trying to gauge the level of my convictions. He must have seen just how deadly serious I was. When he spoke next, there was a placating tone to his voice.
"Okay, okay, let me go. I won't hurt him, I promise," Tristan said, raising his empty hands in a gesture of surrender.
I released the other vampire and stepped back a few feet, trembling slightly and warily watching him massage his throat for a few minutes.
"I don't know what you think you accomplished with that," He said, after a minute, straightening his immaculate, dark suit. "You realize that the Council will just send someone else, someone a lot less sympathetic to you than I am. What are you going to do then? Go on the run with him?"
"If I have to," I said defiantly.
"Look at him, Mercy, he won't survive that. He's in pretty bad shape right now. He needs proper medical attention. But you can't take him to a clinic. He'll tell them you kidnapped him. If you try to run with him, he'll die and you will have marked yourself for execution for no reason."
"Shut up!" I shouted, turning away from Tristan and pacing around the small cabin. I knew that everything he was saying was true. God, I had messed up so very badly! And I really didn't see anyway for Nick and I, both, to get out of this predicament alive. With a sigh, I came to my decision.
"Tristan, he's not a threat," I said, turning back to face my one-time partner, trying very hard to control my emotions and sound calm and reasonable. "I'll talk to him. I'll make sure he understands that he can't tell anyone anything. He's an intelligent man. He'll understand. No one is going to listen to one man, claiming to have been attacked by vampires. They'll lock him up in a padded room...
"Please, Tristan, you have to help me. Tell the Council that you're convinced that he won't talk. I'll turn myself over to the Council. I still have a few close friends there. I will pledge my life for his. If he talks, my life will be forfeit. But I need you to back me up in front of the Council."
"I want to help you, Mercy, I do," Tristan said. "But I am not pledging my life for some Breather."
"You don't have to," I said quickly. "I'll do all the pledging. You just vouch for my convictions. Tell them that you agree with me, that Nick is not a threat. Just back me up, please."
"And you'll abide by whatever punishment the Council hands down?"
"As long as that punishment doesn't involve Nick in any way, yes, I'll abide by it."
"Even if they sentence you to death?"
"Yes."
"And if the Council does demand Nick's death?"
I gripped my bokken tightly and raised it to Tristan's eye level. "I will not allow you or anyone else to harm him. And anyone who tries to, will pay the ultimate price. So, how badly to you want him dead?"
"Okay, okay," Tristan said, holding his hands out in a placating gesture, "you've convinced me. I'll help you with the Council."
"Thank you," I said stiffly, not accustomed to feeling, let alone, expressing, gratitude.
"Okay, Mercy, right now we need to get out of here. This isn't the best hiding place and I'm not sure I'm the only one who's been sent to find you."
"Right," I agreed. "Uh, there's a low-life trussed up in the back of the pick-up. Do you think you could deal with him, while I try and talk to Nick?"
"Yeah, I'll take care of it," he said, with a feral smile. "I'm feeling a little peckish anyway."
After Tristan had left out the back door, I went to the couch and knelt on the floor. It took several minutes to wake Nick and when I finally did manage to coax his eyes open, he seemed to be having some trouble focusing them on my face. I lightly traced the outline of his cheekbone with my fingertips, trying to hold his attention.
"Nick, Honey, I have to leave, but don't worry, I'll make sure your friends find you," I said. He simply stared at me, obviously not entirely following my words. "You'll be alright until they get here."
Seeing his eyes starting to drift closed again, I stood and retrieved my cell phone from my purse. Flipping it open, I punched the number to dial Capt. Brass' cell phone. I had programmed the number into my phone early on in the investigation.
After only a couple of rings, I heard the detective's static-y voice come on the line. Apparently he had caller ID, which was perfect for me, as I wouldn't have to say a word.
"Hello? Mercy, is that you?" I heard him ask, trying and failing, to keep the anxiety out of his voice. "Mercy, where are you? ... Nick?"
I could hear him speaking to someone else. "I've got Mercy on the line... No, she hasn't said anything. No one's speaking, but the line's still active. Quick, someone contact the cell phone company and get this line traced."
Checking to see that the batteries were fully charged, I left the phone on and laid it on the floor beside the couch. As I was doing so, the back door opened and Tristan entered.
"We shouldn't leave that truck here," he said. "We need to get rid of it and the body. We've left too many loose ends already."
"We can ditch it as we're leaving. The police should be on their way shortly."
"Then let's get the hell out of here."
I added a few logs to the fire and made sure the sleeping bag was tucked tightly around Nick. With a last kiss on his forehead, I gathered up anything that belonged to me and followed Tristan out of the cabin. While he drove his car, I drove the truck. We returned to the highway and continued on deeper into the mountains.
We drove for several miles, until we came to a long, dark stretch of road with no sign of houses, cabins, or other human habitation. To the right of the highway, the ground dropped away sharply, ending in a shallow, pine-filled gulley. Seeing Tristan's brake lights come on in front of me, I abruptly cranked the steering wheel, sending the truck careening to the right. I crashed through the metal guardrail and the truck tumbled down the steep embankment. It eventually came to rest against a cluster of tall pines at the bottom of the gulley.
Being a vampire, I was unharmed by the crash. Opening the driver's door, I hauled the dead body of Uncle Ted over from where it had landed in a heap on the floor of the passenger side. With some difficulty, I got him situated behind the wheel. Climbing out of the truck, I took a pack of matches from my pocket. Ripping a strip of shirt off the dead man, I stuck one end of the strip into the gas tank and lit it with a match.
Stepping back quickly, I started clambering back up the steep embankment. I hadn't gotten far before I heard the gas tank ignite. The explosion was rather anti-climactic, muffled by all the surrounding trees and the fact that the tank had been almost empty, but the resultant fire still spread to consume the rest of the vehicle quite nicely.
As I neared the top of the rise, Tristan gave me a hand up the rest of the way. We climbed into his car and headed back the way we had come. Three or four hours later, we heard the unmistakable sound of two helicopters passing overhead. Later, as we were merging onto I-95, we passed a small convoy of police cars, lights flashing like beacons in the darkness. In the midst of the patrol cars, I noted a couple of the CSI mobile lab units. They streaked past us without a second glance in our direction. Tristan and I continued on, making our way towards California and the nearest airport.
To be continued...
Author's note: Sorry, it took so long to get this chapter out, but I was out of town for a few days. On a completely separate note, for those who saw the most recent episode: What the hell is up with that damn moustache? I'm sorry, but that has so got to go! He looked way too much like Inspector Clouseau. Not a good look on him! Although I did love Warrick's Moustache Boy line.