TWO
Detective Mike Celluci eyed the woman sitting across from him. She was an enigma that was for sure. Normally he would get an accurate "read" on a person after a few minutes of meeting him but this Marie Chevalier was defying all odds. She sat across from him, clad all in black but was almost typical in this day and age. But what was very unusual was the short cloak she wore in what looked to be real mink fur and the sunglasses and hood she wore, even inside the police station. In the ten minutes she'd been there, she had not made any eye contact and very little physical contact. But most of all she made him very uneasy.
"Alright Damion Prince. Date of birth March 16th 1983." Mike blinked as Damion's rap sheet pulled up on the computer. He hit the page down key….and again…and again. Petty theft, disorderly conduct, assault and battery. And this was just in Canada. Ms. Chevalier said he was American. Mike wondered what this boy's sheet there looked like.
Mike looked at the woman. "I'm sorry Ma'am. Someone has to be missing for at least forty-eight hours before you can file a missing persons report. Plus ma'am with this rap sheet, he's more then likely laying low."
Nyte's jaw twitched. "Damion may be a flight risk, but only when he's being accused of something."
Mike's brows shot up. The heavy French accent the woman had earlier was gone. The subtle muscle tensing was not lost on him either. She was angry.
"Alright, I'll humor you. Come back when it's been forty eight hours and I'll file that report."
Nyte took a deep breath. Humor her? How dare he! "Thank you Detective….Celluci." she said as she rose. Nyte stalked off heading for her car. She scheduled one hour for this meeting and it only took ten minutes. Dawn was coming soon and she needed to feed.
Nyte almost instinctively headed to the bars. Her and Jarrett use to sneak off to Le Havre and drink with the sailors there. Bars and clubs, the rack, as Nyte knew it, was the best place to feed without drawing too much attention.
Nyte had picked a middle-aged man, probably an investment banker trying to reclaim some lost youth. The most likely target that would not to have those new trendy designer drugs in his system. She led him away with a promise of a lifetime.
Henry felt the vampire the moment she entered. He drew away from his meal for the evening, Sasha, and looked around. Finally, by the back wall he spotted her and her target. "There's no accounting for taste." he thought as he watched the two. She drew away and gently guided her meal ticket into a chair, ordering another drink for him. As she started to leave, she caught Henry's gaze.
"Damn local wildlife." Nyte muttered, catching the gaze of Toronto's resident vampire. She decided it was about time to head back to the hotel and rest. She had an appointment tomorrow with a private investigator. If the cops were not willing to help search for a hood, with enough money the PI would.
Henry shook with rage as he shoved through the crowd trying to get to the woman. He recognized her. Hell she and her partner were two of the most notorious vampires around – Nyte Chevalier. And the bitch had the audacity to hunt in his city!