Disclaimer: See Chapter1
A/N: Sorry this took me a while. I had the meaning of the message in my head then I lost it, so if it sounds weird blame the low sugar intake.
"Has she arrived yet?"
Sinclair glanced up from the case files to see Don and Terry arriving with Charlie in tow. Sometimes he began to wonder if there was ever going to be a case where they didn't need Charlie's help. Probably not. The guy could figure out anything with his numbers, so why was this case so different?
"Not yet." Sinclair answered and in a under tone to Don, "Listen this guy's like sixty or something and he says that he's known her for a long time. She can't be much younger. He tried to tell me something else but the line got cut."
Don looked at him, worried, "Are you sure it wasn't one of those long distance problems?"
"Positive the line just went dead; otherwise he would have called back. He said that something was important."
Don turned to the growing yet still small group of agents coming into the room.
"Okay people. Our contact should be arriving very soon, now keep in mind that we think that she not the youngest person we've dealt with but I want her under extreme supervision at all times. We don't need anything else happening. Now Charlie..."
He was cut off by someone rapping on the glass door that separated the room from the rest of the department. He turned to see a young woman, probably twenty at the most looking into the room. He went over and opened the door.
"Can I help you?"
She slid by him into the room taking in her surroundings. Her hair was long and a dark red, close to the color of blood almost. It worked well with her fair skin. She wore all black. Black pants, shoes jean jacket and a small shirt that showed off her midriff. Not very professional.
"I'm Rose Anguis, the specialist."
The whole room seemed to be holding its breath. Rose, however, seemed oblivious to this fact. She walked up to the board were and enlarged copy of the message hung. Charlie was frozen, with what he didn't know. He'd never been one for the fairy tale of love at first sight, but something had struck him when she'd walked in. But under all the confusion lie an emotion he knew very well. Fear. For a reason unknown he feared this girl. Oh, but in the same moment he'd finally found something that he could look upon without an equation coming to mind. Bliss in human form.
"Jeez, Danny made it seem like you guys actually had something difficult. Give me five minutes and I'll have the first three lines done……the last one, you're on your own."
She walked up to the white board and picked up a maker. She stood as if she was about to write, but stopped. She looked back at the message as if deciding something, then looked around the room, realizing that everyone was watching her.
"Did I do something wrong?" Her face held a look of pure innocence.
It took a while but Don was the first to recover.
"We just didn't expect you to be so….young."
Rose looked at him. For a split second she seemed to be upset with this information. But she quickly covered this with an easy grin.
"Yeah, I get that a lot. Danny makes me seem older. Tells people that he's known me for a long time. It's true, the guy practically raised me. No big."
She turned and looked back at the board.
"I have a feeling you guys might be needing me for more than decoding this though."
Don seemed shocked by this. Apparently this girl knew meant already.
"Why do you say that?"
"See for yourself."
Rose picked the pen back up and began to write.
My Queen, My Goddess,
The dark festival approaches
Join me one last time before our world ends.
The agents just stared. Charlie was even more confused than before. How's that supposed to help us? What does this mean? He glanced around the room, looking at the other's faces. Clearly they were thinking the same.
"Let me guess" It was Terry this time, "you know exactly what this means?"
A crooked grin grew on Rose's face. "Sit down, get comfortable. This might take a while. Daniel and I work in a rather….unpopular field of research. History on the paranormal specializing in vampires."
She stopped studying the faces of the agents. Most stared at her in disbelief, a few looked like they were about to laugh. The young curly-haired man in the corner, however, had the same look on his face that he'd had since she first walked in. It was beginning to unnerve her.
"Trust me, some of the things I'm going to tell you are bound to be weirder. These symbols originate from a rather intrusting vampyric cult, that we believe first came into existence around the time of the Renaissance."
"So what you're saying is that we're dealing with some cult killer?" Don interrupted. If this was the case, it should be relatively easy to find the killer.
"I'm sorry I didn't catch your name?"
"Special Agent Don Eppes."
"Right. Well Agent Eppes, I'm sorry to disappoint you but no we're dealing with something a little more….dangerous. Now if you don't mind I would like to continue without being interrupted."
Charlie fought back a laugh. If he didn't know any better he'd think he was in some lecture back at the college. He glanced at his older brother, who seemed appropriately chastised but Charlie caught the defiant glimmer in his eyes.
"As I was saying. The cult was created by four persons who though themselves to be vampires. They worshiped another vampire who they believed to be their sire. She was a goddess and queen to them, which explains the first line. Like most people would think, they had rituals; none however was as bloody as what they called The Festival of the Dead. It is said that in one night they killed over two hundred people. Now you may interrupt."
Don was the first to react, very loudly react. "Are you saying that we might be dealing with the deaths of over two hundred people on our hands?"
"Well yes and no. You see, this is where things get weird. To keep people from finding them, they held the festivals every hundred and fifty two years. That right there we knew shouldn't have been correct but from the evidence it had to have been. And after every festival they'd torch the coven and find a new one. Which weren't too hard to find when we were searching. All in big cities, the last was in New York around the beginning of the nineteen hundreds. The odd thing was, this coven had been abandoned and not burned. Also city history does not show for that many missing people in one night."
"What does that mean?"
"We're not sure. We believe the cult was disbanded for reasons unknown. When we found the last coven, however, there were some very interesting artifacts." Rose stopped and walked over to the door where she'd left a black book bag. She pulled out a few files and walked back to the center of the room. "These are some photocopies of art found at the coven. This appears to be the oldest."
She held up a photograph of a very old painting depicting five people, four men surrounding another figure, which had been scratched out. "I want you all to pay close attention to the details of the men." She held up more pictures all of paintings getting newer and newer. All of the same thing. The style of clothing changed as did the poses, but the faces never changed. And in all, a fifth, scratched out, figure.
"They could just be followers depicting the founders in what was to them modern style so make it seem as if they were still alive."
It was Charlie who had spoke. Rose looked at him; it was the first time he'd spoken since she'd arrived. He seemed to understand the point she was trying to make but was very disbelieving in it.
"We thought that also. Until we found this." She then held up an actual photograph. It was of the five figures again, this time in early turn of the century clothing. "It was taken, we believe, just a short while before the cult fell. Now seeing as there we're no computers around at the time to doctor the picture an there could be no other way to explain this, Daniel and I believe we've found the first actual proof of vampires." She paused, waiting for the laughter and biting remarks. Rose's silence was met with the same from the agents.
"Okay…….seeing as how, for the first time, I'm getting no response." She walked up to Don, "I want you to take a look at this man" She pointed to the man closest to the scratched out figure. It wasn't a man really, but a teenager, couldn't be older than any of the victims, or Rose for that matter. He was tall with long dark hair and, all though it was hard to tell from the black and white photo, darkish skin. His eyes were dark, but also cold and cruel. A killer's eyes.
"Now this is an enhanced security photo taken from a Los Angeles airport within the last two weeks. See anyone familiar?"
Don did. Standing in the middle of a crowded room, staring up at the camera was the same man. The same cold cruel dark eyes. And he was smiling.