Author's Note: Thanks! I really appreciate all your kind and positive comments, especially those of you who don't normally read this kind of story, but are giving it a chance anyway. I promise, the father/son pays off in the end. I've spent over four months working on this, and at times wondered if I'd gone off the deep end devoting so much time to an AU fic. But then again, out-of-control terrorists, convicts seeking revenge, psychopathic doctors conducting evil experiments, insane kidnappers, serial killers-it's all kind of crazy when you think about it so I decided, what the heck.
I also want to assure you that even with the genre, I tried very hard to keep everyone in character and have attempted to maintain the wit, banter, movie references, etc. that we'd find in any episode. I've also created two antagonists who I hope you want to see die gloriously awful deaths by the end!
In the next few chapters, Gibbs gets his head around what his enemies want, and Tony starts to figure out the big picture and is none too happy about his discoveries.
Thanks again for taking the plunge with me, and I look forward to hearing from you!
TLH
PS: Fell and broke my right elbow yesterday and was told not to type. Not following doctor's orders-but thankfully this is pretty well finished and all I have to do are revisions. But still, just remember I am now in pain and under the influence of hydrocodone, so I'll blame any mistakes on that. *Sigh*
Tony had just taken his seat when McGee and Ziva exited the elevator. They stopped in front of his desk.
McGee bent down and peered at his partner's eyes. "Dark circles, puffiness, sallow complexion," he straightened and looked at Ziva. "All the signs of a very late night."
Tony grinned humorlessly.
"No big smile and a lack of boasting. I would guess….third base. Maybe it will be a home run next time, Tony. You cannot expect to score every time you are up to bat," Ziva goaded.
"Don't jump to conclusions, Zee-vah. It was a very exciting night." Tony shuffled the papers on his desk, avoiding her gaze. "There's coffee on your desks," he added with an off-handed shrug.
McGee gave a grateful smile and Ziva folded her arms. "Thanks, Tony," Tim said, sitting down his backpack and holding the warm cup in his hands. "There isn't anything in this, right?" He frowned skeptically, never sure if Tony was being kind or playing a joke.
"Only cream and sugar, probie. Come on, I can be nice," Tony protested.
"Someone else wasn't being nice last night, DiNozzo," Gibbs stated, walking past them. "Gear up. We got another one."
NCISNCISNCIS
The ensign was tucked under the covers of the bed, his appearance almost serene. Gibbs took off his cap and rubbed his head before glancing around the small bedroom. The neat and tidy house showed no signs of forced entry and nothing was disturbed or out of order.
This is escalating way too fast.
Ducky entered the room with a grim countenance. "The same?" he asked.
"You tell me," Gibbs responded gruffly. He had already recognized the scent, and it was all the evidence he needed.
The ME carefully pulled back the blanket and studied the body for several minutes, looking for evidence of trauma, poking and prodding the corpse with several instruments. "Drained again; no outward indication of method. They certainly want to get our attention. How are we going to keep this quiet? It's fairly sensational; if the media were to get hold of it…..I'd rather not consider the implications."
The fact these two young men had died to send a message to him; Gibbs hated it. He wanted to know if there was any significance to who was being selected or if the choices were random. If he could find a pattern, maybe he could do something to stop them from killing again.
"I have to find out what they want, Ducky."
Dr. Mallard leveled a stare at his friend. "You don't already know?"
"I guess I'm just waiting on the details."
Their conversation was cut short when Tony, Ziva, and McGee entered the room. "What have we got, boss?" Tony asked. Gibbs wished he could tell the senior field agent what was really going on, but that was impossible; not now at least.
"Same scenario as before, DiNozzo. Body drained of blood and no sign of how it happened. Get photos and measurements; process the room and the house." Despite pretty much knowing they weren't going to find anything significant, Gibbs had to keep up the front of a legitimate investigation. He didn't enjoy keeping his team out of the loop, but it wasn't like this was something he could bring up in casual conversation.
"On it, boss," Tony responded, unaware of Gibbs' internal conflict.
Gibbs passed by the senior field agent and stopped, somewhat startled by his second's less than stellar appearance. "Was she that good, Tony? You look like shit."
"Off the Richter scale, boss," Tony responded automatically, despite not being able to remember much about the event. "I'm surprised all of DC didn't feel the aftershocks."
"You're going to feel an aftershock if you don't stay focused on this case. Stay away from her tonight before you end up in the emergency room." Gibbs paused, concerned there was something more here he should be worried about. A faint smell captured his attention, but it wasn't one he could readily identify. He stilled his mind for a second, trying to sense Tony's mood, and noticed a low level of anxiety emanating from the younger man.
Tony snickered. "The emergency room. No girl is that good, boss." He wanted to yawn, but decided it was best not to show how tired he was feeling and instead paid attention to the tasks at hand. It was difficult not to limp, since his thigh was aching and sore, but he managed to move without too much problem.
Gibbs put a hand on his shoulder, suddenly very wary. "I mean it, DiNozzo. Stay away from this girl." He didn't have time to pursue his gut's warning about Tony's latest conquest, but he was sure this wasn't someone Tony needed to see again.
The field agent looked shocked at the personal order. Gibbs usually didn't interfere with their private lives, so the comment caught him off guard. "Sure, ok boss. I hadn't really planned to call her back anyway."
Gibbs nodded. It was one less thing on his mind right now. "Good."
"Boss," McGee called out, interrupting their discussion. "You're not going to like this."
What about this is there to like? Gibbs asked silently .
McGee was holding the ensign's identification and standing next to a commanding officer. "Commander," Gibbs acknowledged. The other man nodded. "What is it McGee?"
"The ensign…..he's Admiral Parker's son."
Gibbs sighed. Of course he is. "Has the Admiral been notified?"
The CO answered his question. "He's on his way now."
The lead agent could hear someone shouting followed by a short scuffle, and then the dead man's father was in the room. All color disappeared from the Admiral's face as his eyes fell upon the form in the bed. "Oh, son," he whispered, swaying slightly until Gibbs took his elbow and led him to a chair.
It took a few minutes before the grey haired man seemed able to compose himself enough to focus on Gibbs, who was kneeling beside him. "Who did this to my boy?" the Admiral whispered. "Tell me you know the fucking bastard who murdered my son."
Gibbs eyes cast downward before moving back up to meet the Admiral's. They were filled with fiery determination. "I promise to bring the person who killed your son to justice. I am so sorry for your loss."
The Admiral held Gibbs' gaze a while longer. "I have to tell his mother," he said absently. He stood and walked to look down on the body. "I'll hold you to your promise, Agent Gibbs." He reached out a hand to touch his son's hair, but pulled back, turned, and walked swiftly from the room.
"Dammit," Gibbs growled, and threw his cap on the floor.
His cell phone rang, and Gibbs took the call, his already stormy features turning to cold stone. "We'll be there," he replied, and shoved the phone into his pocket.
The three field agents cast fearful glances at one another. "What is it boss?" Tony asked cautiously.
"They've found another one." He paused. "This time it's the SecNav's son." Stunned expressions crossed the team member's faces. "I guess we've found our pattern."
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs watched the Secretary of the Navy pace Vance's office. The man's eyes were red, but he wasn't crying. The distraught father simply paced and clenched his fists, trying valiantly to control the overwhelming rush of emotions he was experiencing.
The former marine understood exactly what the SecNav was feeling-memories of Shannon and Kelly played through his mind and the rush of guilt that swept over him was numbing. This man was suffering because of him. Three young men were dead because of him. Gibbs had no proof, but he knew it was his fault just as he knew the sun would set at the end of the day. He had to do something, but any action by him could set off a chain of events he didn't know if he was ready to handle. Or even if he could handle. The life he had created, that he loved, was spinning quickly out of control.
He realized he hadn't been paying attention, refocusing on Vance's words. "Do you think we need a task force, Gibbs?"
The lead agent forced himself to deal with the moment. "No, not yet. Give me a few more days to investigate. A task force right now will just create hysteria, and that's precisely what this killer wants. Let's not hand it over to him on a silver platter."
The SecNav stopped pacing and concentrated on the NCIS agent. "I know, gunny, if anyone can find justice for these boys, for my son, it's you. I have faith in you, Gibbs. Don't let me down."
Gibbs stood and nodded solemnly for the second time today. "I won't."
Shutting the door softly behind him, he went to the railing and leaned against it, looking out over the bullpen, trying to control his tumbling thoughts. His agents were all working, each of them on the computer or talking on the phone. As if sensing his presence, Tony turned and let his green eyes meet Gibbs' own blue.
The Baltimore detective looked up at him from where he knelt over the dead midshipman. His emerald green eyes were serious, but at Gibbs' approach he broke into a sunshine producing grin. "You must be the federal agent everyone is so scared of. Gibbs, right? I'm Detective Anthony DiNozzo. You can call me Tony. I think we're going to be working together on this one." The young man pulled the glove off his hand and held it out to shake.
Gibbs stood perfectly still, trying to overcome the smell, the fragrance, the intoxicatingly sweet odor wafting from the man. It was overwhelming, and required all of Gibbs' self-control to prevent himself from tearing at the soft throat and bleeding him on the spot. How many others of his kind had been privy to this scent and managed to walk away? His powerful senses picked up on the remnants of others…he recognized the smell of someone from his past he'd hoped never to see again. Gabriel.
The boy had been bled, but not turned. Gabriel had drunk from this innocent, oblivious kid; might be preparing to take him for his own.
Settling down and regaining his composure, Gibbs extended his hand, already considering how to get DiNozzo away from Baltimore and back to Washington. It was a miracle the kid had survived this long without protection, and Gibbs knew instantly it was his role to keep him safe. He wouldn't let Gabriel have another one.
He shook his head and came back to the moment. Tony was still staring at him, his face taking on an openly curious expression. Gibbs gave a scowl and turned away; heading toward the stairs, wondering if this situation could have anything to do with his senior field agent. He always worried Gabriel would come back for Tony one day, but somehow, he had hoped they had more time. And if Tony was what Gabriel wanted, why kill all these others? Why not go directly after DiNozzo? The pieces weren't fitting together yet. He wished he could share what he suspected with the team; he had come to depend on their insights and observations.
Gibbs couldn't take that risk.
He would contact Gabriel tonight; the old demons couldn't rest anymore. He wouldn't let one more blameless victim, stranger or friend, get caught up in battles that were his to fight alone.
NCISNCISNCIS
Ziva sighed in frustration. "Nothing! I do not understand how we can have three dead bodies and not one shred of evidence! There is nothing to connect these men and not a single lead. How is this possible?"
They had spent the day re-interviewing potential witnesses and going over any possible theories. Their efforts were completely unsuccessful, and the three agents were feeling uncharacteristically ineffective.
McGee shook his head. "Has Ducky said anything else about the condition of the bodies? Has he found an explanation for the missing blood? I think that's the key to all this."
"No, he has not shed any light on the method. He has actually been strangely quiet. When I checked in with him he did not have even one story to relate about the subject. Has Abby found anything new?" Ziva walked out from behind her desk, folding her arms and creasing her brow.
"Not yet. Tony, have you talked to Gibbs? He hasn't been around much this afternoon."
Tony was seated at his desk, leaning his chin on his hand. He was tired, and could think of nothing better than heading home to crawl into bed and sleep off this nagging lethargy. The case was going nowhere, and Gibbs was acting more strangely by the hour, having spent most of the day holed up with Ducky, both of them turning silent whenever he entered the room. "He hasn't told me anything. I guess he's working on a need to know basis, and right now we don't need to know." His head fell off his hand when his cell phone rang loudly. Checking the caller id, Tony growled and shoved the phone back in his pocket.
"Not answering?" Ziva asked. "Could it be your date from last night? Are you not ready for round two?"
"That Ziva," Tony said, "is none of your business." He winked cheekily for effect, but didn't let her know she was absolutely right. Maria had called at least a dozen times, and after Tony had turned her down for a second date on two occasions, he had stopped answering. Her persistence was starting to border on stalker chick.
Gibbs chose that moment to re-enter the bullpen. "Go home, people. Start fresh tomorrow."
They all three stared at the man like he had grown another head. Gibbs never sent them home at a decent hour during a hot case, if at all.
McGee stumbled into the situation first. "Uh, boss, are you uh…I mean, we planned to stay. I know we don't have much right now, but we'll…..we'll come up with something."
Ziva frowned tightly. "Yes, Gibbs, we will stay."
The intensity in the blue eyes built quickly. "I said to go home! Now!" he yelled. "Are you planning to question my orders?"
McGee backed up a few steps and Ziva glanced hesitantly at Tony, who had come out from behind his desk and moved closer to their boss.
"Gibbs," he said quietly, trying to broach his superior carefully while he played human shield for the rest of the team. McGee looked ready to fall over, and Ziva was hovering behind him protectively. "Is everything ok? I know the SecNav must be breathing down your neck, but you seem…..a bit off today."
The lead agent was in his face instantly, all pretense of civility gone, replaced by pure anger. "Who are you to talk to me like that, DiNozzo? I give an order and you follow it, no questions asked. Or do you think you're in charge around here?"
Gibbs was so close Tony could feel his hot breath on his skin. In all the years he'd known Gibbs, he'd rarely had that rage he knew burned inside his boss turned directly on him, but it was there now. Tony swallowed thickly, but he was too far in to go back, and besides, if Gibbs somehow lost it on McGee the poor guy might have a heart attack.
"No, boss, I know who's in charge. Just concerned, that's all," he replied calmly, not moving.
He waited while Gibbs stared him down, and he thought Gibbs must be deciding whether or not to strangle him. Instead, he received a severe thwack on the back of the head, so hard it actually hurt, but Tony didn't react. This was not playtime and he might've tucked his tail between his legs for the sake of not fighting, but he wasn't going to give up all his pride. He tried to hide the shock he felt at the unexpected force behind the smack, which wasn't altogether easy since the spot was still stinging.
"Don't question my authority again. Now get out of here."
Gibbs moved back to his desk and refused to look at any of them as they collected their personal belongings and scurried for the elevator.
The three agents rode in silence, none of them sure what to say. As they exited the lift, Ziva turned. "I am no longer angry at Gibbs. There is obviously something bothering him and he needs our help. I intend to find out what has got his panties in a knot."
"Wad, Ziva, panties in a wad." Tony corrected gently. "We'll all help. We just have to make sure he doesn't shoot any of us before we figure out what his problem is."
"Agreed. I will see you tomorrow."
"Good night," McGee added as they walked toward their cars.
"Tony!" Ziva called out, and jogged over to him. She stood there, shifting uncomfortably as he looked down at her. Her personality was so large that Tony sometimes forgot how tiny she really was.
Finally she spoke. "I know it is none of my business, but I do not think you should see this woman again. I do not have a good feeling about her, and your date has not done you good. If you do go out with her, I cannot stop you, but I think it would be best if you broke it off."
A smile tugged at Tony's lips. "Ah, Ziva, you do care." It was kind of nice to know she was looking out for him. Between his little assassin and Gibbs it really was difficult for him to get in too much trouble. "I've already decided she isn't my type, ok?" he answered seriously. "Does that make you feel better?"
She smiled in return. "Yes. Someone has to watch your six, since you do not always do it for yourself. Goodnight, Tony."
"Goodnight, Ziva." He shook his head as he got into his car, checking his phone when it started ringing again, and tossing it into the passenger seat when he recognized Maria's number.
"Victoria's Secret Stalker Edition," he mumbled, putting his car in gear and pulling out toward home.
His thoughts quickly shifted to Gibbs, trying to figure out what was wrong with the older man. He had never seen Gibbs snap like that for no apparent reason, and definitely not at the team. He might get grumpy or moody, but never outright angry. Whatever was eating at Gibbs, Ziva was right, they wouldn't let him deal with it alone-no matter how much he acted like a bastard along the way.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs poured another cup of coffee and leaned against his kitchen counter, trying to get a handle on his raging emotions. He was usually so controlled, so locked down on his feelings that his current state was difficult to manage. He hadn't meant to shout at the team, or at Tony, but his blood was boiling and there was something inside him that needed quenched in order to settle him back down. The knowledge of what was happening was making it difficult to control his basic instincts.
He hadn't hunted in several months, since he only did that when absolutely necessary for his survival. Tonight, his body wanted to assert its true nature, it wanted to subdue and dominate, as it had been designed to do. It would give him some peace if he allowed it, but he couldn't. There was too much he needed to think about, and hunting now wouldn't be to quench his hunger but to quench his rage.
He grabbed his phone and dialed Ducky, waiting impatiently for the answer on the other end. "Did you find that number for me?"
"Yes, Jethro." His old friend rattled off the information. "Do you think this is wise? It might just provoke him more."
Gibbs snarled. "Maybe he should be concerned about provoking me." He ended the call without waiting for a response, punching in the numbers Ducky had provided.
"I need to talk to Gabriel," he growled to the person who picked up.
There was silence and muffled whispering before someone else spoke. "Hello, Leroy. To what do I owe the honor of speaking to you after so many years?" The voice on the other end was as soft and eloquent as Gibbs remembered.
"Don't play your bullshit games with me. You know exactly why I'm calling. Just tell me what you want."
After a long sigh, Gabriel continued. "Always so blunt, never any finesse with you, Leroy. Forever the soldier, the protector, the enforcer. Don't you ever get tired of watching over the weak and innocent? I can't imagine it's very rewarding."
"It's better than preying on the weak and innocent, which is what you spend your time doing. Forgive me if that isn't my idea of fun. Now answer my question."
Gabriel's tone lost all pretense and became businesslike. "It's time, Leroy. We need to settle our old…disagreements once and for all. We need to know which of us is the strongest and who the others can look to as a leader. I've waited too long, and it's clear that without some type of incentive, you won't change a thing. You like the little world you've created, pretending to be a human. But you aren't, Leroy, and I'm going to remind you of that once and for all."
"Stop killing innocent bystanders. They have no part in this."
Gabriel laughed, his chuckle thin through the phone. "True, but I've never had as much of a problem with killing as you do, Leroy. It's a part of who I am. It's a part of you, too-you just don't want to admit it. Although, killing sons of military fathers—it has a certain style—that was Adrian's idea, of course. He's quite clever, don't you agree?"
Gibbs didn't take the bait, although the mention of Adrian rankled him further. "Does this have anything to do with Anthony DiNozzo?"
There was a pause before Gabriel replied. "This has everything to do with Anthony DiNozzo. We'll stop our attacks for a few days and give you some time to think. Call me by Friday and let me know if you intend to take the next steps so we can end this. If you don't, I'll see to it that you aren't given a choice. Goodbye, Leroy."
The line went dead, and Gibbs clenched his fist around the small piece of plastic in his hand.
"Dammit." For a man used to decisiveness, he was uncertain how to proceed. Needing to review his options, he headed for the only place that could possibly clear his head. Stopping at the top of the stairs to the basement, he opened the phone again and selected another number, deciding to put a second worry to rest.
A sleepy voice answered on the other end. "Yeah, boss. We got another one?"
Gibbs paused, trying to determine what to say. "No, DiNozzo. Listen, about earlier….it's been a bad day." It was as close to an apology as he could come.
There was no immediate response. "I know. It's ok. I just…you'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?" Gibbs could hear the uncertainty in the familiar voice.
"You going anywhere tonight?" The lead agent didn't answer the question, which he was sure wasn't lost on his senior field agent.
"No, boss. I'm really wiped out. Plan on going back to sleep."
"Good. Get a good night's rest and we'll talk tomorrow."
"Kay. G'night, boss."
Gibbs shut the phone and took a deep breath. He couldn't hold vigil over Tony, but he worried nonetheless. He also couldn't delay the conversation that was going to have to happen between them much longer, and he didn't know how to approach it. When Tony found out the secrets he had been keeping from him, the younger man was going to be so pissed he might not ever speak to Gibbs again.
Every year, Tony grew more and more intoxicating; Gibbs was used to the sweet smell of his blood, and so was Ducky, but there had been several times over the years he had been forced to step in and prevent others from taking what was not theirs. Tony wasn't aware of any of this. As Tony approached what was to him middle age, to those of his kind it was more of a ripening, like a fine wine reaching its zenith. DiNozzo was barely a child to them, and his blood would be rich, warm, and delicious, bringing with it all the flavors and unique qualities that his special heritage supplied. For the next few years it would be nearly impossible to keep the most daring away.
Gibbs continued down to the basement, finding the bottle of bourbon and a nearly clean glass. Unfortunately, he knew all too well what Tony's blood tasted like, the vibrancy that was a reflection of the man's personality. He let the bourbon burn his throat, hoping to wash away the memory of those brief tastes, but they were still there. He detested drinking from the younger man, but there had been no option; if Gabriel, or anyone else for that matter, came around, they had to know Tony was under his protection. Biting him was the only way, other than turning him, to provide some level of safety for DiNozzo.
It made Gibbs feel like a piece of filth.
Ducky had been pushing Gibbs for years to deal with the issue, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't force Tony to become what he was, to give up his very soul. Losing his humanity had nearly destroyed Gibbs, and he wouldn't let the same thing happen to Tony. It was unthinkable.
But in the end, that might be the only answer.
NCISNCISNCIS
Tony opened his eyes, trying to figure out what sound had woke him up. He heard the shuffling of feet, the squeak of a door. "Who's there?" he whispered, shaking sleep from his aching skull. The pain reminded him of his concussion; he'd been hit on the back of the head with a gun earlier in the day.
Gibbs and Kate had taken down the suspect and he had ended up in the ER. It hadn't been his best day, but at least no one else had gotten hurt and the nausea had pretty much subsided.
The lead agent sat on the edge of the bed. "You still here?" Tony asked, somewhat surprised at Gibbs continual hovering.
"Somebody has to check on you every two hours. What's your name?"
"Come on Gibbs, you know my name. I'm tired." He knew he was whining. Gibbs just waited patiently. "Name, DiNozzo. You don't want me to call Ducky back over here."
"You just told me my name," Tony muttered under his breath before sighing in resignation. The senior field agent answered the question, and several others Gibbs asked him.
"You need to make a trip to the head?" Gibbs asked.
Tony realized his bladder was pretty full. "Yeah, but I can make it."
Gibbs stood by while Tony got to his feet and stumbled toward the bathroom. When he wobbled dangerously Gibbs reached out and hooked an arm around his waist. DiNozzo gave him a displeased look. "Just get over it, Tony," the silver-haired agent admonished. "Nothing wrong with needing help sometimes."
Tony grunted in reply, not acknowledging his gratitude at having the assistance. He could never get used to Gibbs seeing him in a weakened state. He might not have been a marine, but he damn well wasn't a wimp. Once he finished his business in the bathroom, Gibbs helped him back to bed and settled him down under the blankets.
Tony was mildly amused by the fussing. "Thanks, boss. Nobody'd believe you were such a good nurse."
He noticed Gibbs was staring at him, a strange expression in the blue eyes. The gaze seemed to catch him and hold him still, and he felt a sense of peacefulness wash over him like a soft summer rain. He blinked hazily, not wanting to lose the connection to those captivating eyes. Slowly, as if through a fog, he felt his wrist lifted, watched as Gibbs brought the limb to his mouth.
He could feel the roughly calloused thumb brushing over his vein, his pulse thudding harshly. "What are you doing, boss?" he asked, trying not to sound confused or scared.
Gibbs gave him his half-smile. "Sorry, Tony." There was a depth of regret, sorrow, and pain in his pale blue eyes that Tony didn't understand.
The younger man gasped at the small sting, and then the warm pull against his wrist. He was vaguely aware of blood dripping down his arm, but none of that compared to the sight of Gibbs' mouth latched onto his wrist. It was beyond his comprehension.
The room around him grew fuzzy and indistinct, the only sounds made by Gibbs' drinking and Tony's hitching breath. Unable to keep his eyes open, Tony put his head back against the pillows, and gently slipped away.
Sitting straight up on the couch, Tony gasped, the images of the dream stark in his mind. He looked around expecting to find Gibbs standing over top of him, blood running down his chin. But Tony was alone, the living room dark and quiet.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to ignore the feeling that this wasn't just a dream, but more of a memory. First the crazy guy with his mom, now Gibbs, nothing his subconscious was dredging up made any sense at all. Maybe it was the movie he'd been watching; the credits from Dracula: Dead and Loving It rolled across the television screen. He sat silently, waiting for the nightmare to recede into his mind—but when he closed his eyes the images remained, distinct and clear.
"What the hell?" he asked the silent room, wondering if he was finally losing his mind.
He wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon, since he wasn't too thrilled about what additional strange visions might creep out of the other side of his closed eyelids, so he decided to keep himself awake as long as possible. Despite the late hour and his promise to Gibbs not to go anywhere, he slid on his sweats and shoes, grabbed his keys, and headed toward the door. A run might wear him out enough to catch a few more hours rest tonight. A sudden thought struck him and he made a stop at the closet, found his ankle holster and strapped it on.
Better safe than sorry, and he hated to admit it but all this vampire crap was making him paranoid. He had a strange sensation that he was being watched, which was ridiculous, and he wasn't going to allow it to prevent him from doing what he wanted. He was a grown man, a federal agent, and there was absolutely nothing to be scared of. Bete noire be damned.
With firm resolve he opened his apartment door and headed out into the night.