Chapter 13: Research and the Average Amygdala

Dwight had returned to the plane in a hurry through the dark woods. Richard had managed to find his way as well, all the while shouting a number of curses at the vampire. Once he had reached the craft, Dwight placed a hand on the left wing and leaned himself fully onto it. He panted heavily and forced the emotions that had accompanied that sight out of his mind. Nausea began to dissipate as the young immortal convinced himself that this was simply another piece of a puzzle to be solved and not the grisly remnants of a terrified human being. He shuddered one final time before clearing his throat and firmly ordering himself not to dwell on the gory details. Richard joined him at the side of the plane only a few moments later with anger emblazoned on his nicotine-aged features. Dwight turned and looked at him.

"That corpse is at least three days old," the vampire said breathlessly. Richard stared back in confusion.

"How do you know that?" he asked. Dwight glared at the reporter and flared his nostrils in exhibition. "Oh," Richard muttered. "Still, you smelled Ceridwen. You're sure you smelled her and not some other were-thing?"

"I recognize the scent as hers, and yet . . .," the vampire replied as his gaze began to trail off. His eyes suddenly lit up. "These diseases, these parasites or viruses or whatnot, they must have smells as distinctive as the persons they infect. It is true for my kind, I learned that a few month prior, so it must be true for hers as well."

"Do you think Ceridwen might already know about this and just didn't tell you?" Richard asked as he motioned for the vampire to climb on board. Dwight breathed deeply and climbed swiftly onto the wing and then into the plane. He watched as the reporter climbed in and settled himself into the pilot's seat. "I mean, she seems too on top of everything to let something like this slip past her."

Dwight frowned and found a comfortable, yet safe, position in the back of the small craft. He scooted forward a little to watch out of the window once again. "Ceridwen and her brother may be ahead of you and those like you in their knowledge, Dees, but this surely is not something that would be broadcast in an average stream of media for the common man." Dwight began going over a thousand and one scenarios for the possible causes of this heinous deed, but was drawing blanks right and left. He narrowed his eyes trying to imagine why the girl wouldn't have told him about the attacks to begin with.

Richard craned his neck backwards and glanced at the young vampire. "I take it from the recent events and the starting point you gave the last time I tracked you down, that you're from this area; am I right?" the reporter asked casually.

Dwight sighed heavily and turned to look out the window once more. "The mansion was the home I was raised in. I suppose that was all part of the girl's sentimental plan," he replied with a groan. Richard glanced back again, noting that the vampire's eyes were showing a glistening hint of nostalgia. "Ceridwen clearly is not from this area and has either forgotten, or not yet learned, Maine's geography. She thought we were in Bangor, but you and I know quite clearly that this is now Winter Harbour."

"Now Winter Harbour; what did it used to be?" Richard asked in confusion. Dwight grinned slightly.

"It was a somewhat small community called Raven's Field; my father had purchased a good portion of the land and offered it to farmers for a most reasonable price. His intention was to have a self-sufficient city that would last for centuries in peace and quiet where his descendants would always call home."

Richard laughed loudly. Dwight turned angrily towards the pilot as his laughter faded. "What, did he want some kind of 1900's hippie commune?" he sneered. Dwight growled and turned back to the window.

"For your information, Dees, my father was of the opinion that the forefathers of this country wanted nothing less for each and every citizen than such an existence," Dwight shot back.

Richard shook his head. "That sounds on awful lot like feudalism to me."

"That would probably be due, in part or whole, to your severe lack of formal education. " The vampire folded his arms firmly and turned to the window for the final time. Richard smiled to himself, wondering if the vampire was beginning to feel the same frustration any other human would have felt in trying to figure out his actions in trying to solve this new situation. It occurred to both of them that Ceridwen and her brother would likely have it solved before either had realized the majority of the facts involved. Dwight watched the scenery pass below them in a dark blur. It was easier for the vampire to see in the dark, but the height of the plane and its speed made night vision difficult even for him. His nostrils began to flare as he began to imagine Ceridwen telling him all about the killings, commenting on how that she and her cooperatives had been given the details weeks ago. Anger began to surge through his limbs at feeling so isolated from the outside. It had been nearly half a year since he had been free to fly from place to place whenever he pleased and feeding when he wished on whom he wished. The field and mansion came into view after a few moments more.

"Going in for a landing now," Richard announced. Dwight ignored him and continued going over what he could do to gather information on his own. Richard landed the plane easily in the adjoining field, glancing behind him every few seconds to make sure that the exposure to fresh blood had not caused the vampire to feel hungry. As the plane slowed and stopped a good distance from the forest behind the mansion, Richard reached quickly for the safety belt clasp and undid it. He turned to Dwight as he moved towards the door. "Well, maybe you'll be able to get some insight into this whole deal since you were able to identify the scent and everything."

"I was able to smell the disease, her form of the disease, but nothing more," Dwight corrected. He breathed deeply and turned to Richard staring at him soberly. "It is not possible that Ceridwen's brother would be keeping another infected creature nearby as a scapegoat in order to get out of these situations, do you? The fact that they also get to do any amount of research would be an added bonus, but that could be a reason, could it not?"

Richard stared back at the immortal in disbelief. "You think that you're being kept as something to blame?" he asked in confusion. Dwight closed his eyes and shook his head. "That's a lot of trouble for anyone even if they're used to dealing with people like you."

"It is ridiculous," Dwight said dismissively as he stood to leave. Richard frowned and backed out of the plane and climbed over the wing before Dwight did the same. "I suppose Ceridwen and Jeremiah are either unaware of this situation or think that it is unrelated to her for some reason that I cannot see."

"Well, this is something I need to keep up with just in case," Richard said thoughtlessly. Dwight turned and glared at the reporter.

"Why?" he demanded. "I thought you had gainful employ in the greeting card industry after excusing yourself from tabloid writing."

"About that," Richard said with an uncomfortable smile. "After that Jeremy kid talked to me about you and they came after, I did some research on their organization, or bureau, or whatever and learned that they have their own record keepers and field reporters. I've always been good at working with the deranged. I think this is something I would be able to get in if I was able to get something to take to them to prove myself."

Dwight sighed and frowned. "And you do not foresee things going as badly as they did when you came after me relentlessly?" Dwight asked. Richard began to look a little confused. He hadn't actually thought of that. "You do know that there are obviously worse things than myself in this organization, yes?"

"Maybe, but you're forgetting that there are also operatives more capable than that Ceridwen girl you're with." Richard moved back towards the wing of his plane and prepared to climb back on board. "You know you and I are kind of linked, right? I think that's what makes you so pissed off."

"Where did you get such nonsense? Links of any kind are spiritual in nature and you have little, if any, spirituality," Dwight scoffed.

"Yeah, knock it. But I learned at one of those bogus relaxation therapy sessions that all beings of similar lifestyle are linked in some way. Let's face it; you were right. You and I have a similar appetite for blood, a need for total freedom, and a complete lack of human warmth. No need for it, either. In a weird way, I guess you could say that the only differences between the two of us at the moment are that you're choosing to stay put and I'm in need of funds for sustenance."

Dwight growled angrily at the man's reference to 'choosing to stay put'. While this was true, it was a choice based on gathering information, not a sense of comfort and satisfaction with the current situation. He shook his head and waved once to the pilot as he opened the door.

"Alert Ceridwen or one of the others to what transpired tonight, Dees, and I will finish what I began with you," Dwight warned. Richard nodded to him. "Again, I emphasize that I am not actively killing at the moment in the name of research. As soon as this is done, I fully plan to go back to the way things were."

Richard shook his head and closed the door. He knew that there was a certain danger to being in continuous contact with a vampire, especially one that had already been close to killing him, but Richard was also well aware of the kind of money and freedom he would acquire with holding out and seeing where this risk took him. The plane taxied away from the landing site slowly. Dwight watched with a slight ache for the ability to simply fly away. He felt a wave of anger wash over him for a moment, fighting it off furiously. He wanted desperately to keep the charade of still having the microchip installed to last until he had the information he needed. Ceridwen had come very close to revealing something monumental before her brother had called her away. He wondered if the absence of Jeremiah would be a boon to his research. Then again, perhaps his presence was keeping Ceridwen more stable than he realized. She was, after all, quite an animal herself.

Dwight strode calmly back to the mansion. He was sure that it had been less than two hours and that he had plenty of time before Ceridwen's return. He stood beneath the window for a beat, staring up at it pensively. He could very well simply walk towards his plane, fly into the nightscape and never have to deal with the whole thought of reformation or Richard again. He shook his head. There was still a few things he needed to desperately know. What if he could truly live without the blackouts, without the fits of rage? He knew that he could feed regularly and use his anger to his advantage, but even with the strength that he had learned to exert over the disease, he was still at its mercy most of the time. His nostrils flared as the scent of Ceridwen met him. He growled and cursed himself. He knew better than to have left the mansion while she was either awake or aware of where she had left him. He would simply ask the operative that had come into the room when Richard had screamed to act as a witness to the fact that the reporter had come for a visit. He could tell her that he had stepped out to see the fool to his plane. That would be something Ceridwen would both believe and perhaps admire. He knelt and gathered strength, allowing a small amount of the anger through him enough to exaggerate the power filling his limbs. He grunted loudly as he jumped into the air and caught hold of a fixture on the wall of the mansion. There were oddities like floral gargoyles lining the corners of each sectional, making the room above easily accessible to anyone with Dwight's talents. He grunted again as the jagged edge of a carved oak leaf cut his hand. He hung onto the wall with his good hand and clutched the other tightly to his chest. He felt his skin and eyes begin to change as his fangs began to extend.

"Not now," he hissed loudly to himself. He couldn't afford to have a fit at this time or place. It had never been so much that he was unsure of whether or not he could get away safely; it was the thought that anyone seeking vengeance or justice would trail him more fervently than Richard had done. He drew in a sharp breath and watched the gash between his thumb and forefinger seal shut. The glow behind his eyes faded as the new scab began to peel away as he willed more blood to the area. A sense of relief and triumph filled him as the hand returned to its proper form. He immediately set back to the task of getting back up to the balcony. As he grasped the ledge served as the floor of the balcony, he felt a slight tremor at the thought of answering to the girl. It was not only emasculating, it was downright ridiculous. She was far too young to really have the knowledge necessary to correct and guide him. The absolutely only reason that he was continuing to do this was in the name of answers. He was beginning to wonder whether it was worth the headache, but that could be more thought through after he had sent Ceridwen away with an excuse.

He pulled himself up onto the balcony and walked swiftly towards the door with a final order to himself to remain calm. He reached out and grasped the handles carefully on the glass doors, opening them as silently as possible. As he slipped into the room, he sniffed the area more carefully. It was odd; as soon as he had entered the room, Ceridwen's scent had become a little more faint. Perhaps she and Jeremiah were outside in the driveway and not inside at all. He furrowed his brow and breathed in the scent as much as he could, trying to decipher where it was exactly. He turned his head sharply as someone began knocking on the door. He narrowed his eyes in confusion as he walked back towards the balcony. Had Richard followed him again? He couldn't smell the man anymore, but then, he hadn't really smelled him the first time. Perhaps being so isolated was marring his natural gifts. He reached for the handles once again, forgetting for the moment his obligation to go and make sure that he had not been seen earlier. He pulled the curtains away from the doors to take a quick look at who was demanding entrance. His heart sank as the figure standing on the other side of the glass stared back at him. He took a step backwards as they took hold of the handles and entered silently. He felt a boyish sense of fear; fear of a stern reprimand.

As the figure shut the door behind them, Dwight felt the urge to turn and head quickly for his room. Ceridwen finished closing the door and turned to stare angrily at the vampire. Dwight said nothing as the two stood perfectly still.

"So," she said calmly. Dwight took a deep breath, still preparing the excuse. "Where have you been?"