The Director walked past the guards at the entrance with a polite nod and looked at the clock. 7 am - early for the rest, and right on time for him. Like every morning, he was always the first to arrive - before the morning shift even began. That was only one of the many reasons everyone thought his life was his job and vice versa. His first stop was always the control room.
The neons threw a cold bluish light over the room and the three men inside. It smelled of coffee, paper, and ink. Stacks of reports sat on each of the men's desks, waiting to be filed and read by their superiors.
The night shift would end in an hour, and the men in the room were eagerly waiting for that moment to arrive. No one wanted this task, but it was something they all had to take turns doing. And it wasn't due to the long hours and sleep deprivation. No, it was because the worst attacks happened at night and most mornings they left with a queasy stomach, only to have nightmares when they got home. The Director knew this, so did everyone else.
He greeted the weary-eyed men and posed the same question as every morning. "Any activity overnight?" Knowing full-well there were few days when the answer wasn't "yes".
"There were a few attacks resulting in three deaths," one man reported. "Team 4 killed a lesser vampire responsible for a fatality. It was lurking behind the Cellar, feeding on the drunks that were relieving themselves behind the dumpsters. No casualties on our part. The body has been brought in for study as usual; local law enforcement will pass the death of the victim as a mugging gone wrong. There were no private security systems in the area, so the cleanup crew had an easy job erasing all traces of the vampire."
"And the rest of the attacks?"
"Two shevamps. New ones. We're still tracking them. The reports have been forwarded, so a strategy can be established."
The Director nodded. "Keep watch. There's a full moon in three days. More will come to the city to feed. I'll have a look over a copy of the reports, perhaps one will be suitable for capture." The man already had the folders prepared, knowing the Director would want to see them. "What about our new acquisition?"
Again, the man was prepared. He pulled out another file and handed it to his superior.
"It's all in here. I've summarized their discussions and there's a timestamp for every activity. The feed is available on the server."
"Anything worth mentioning?"
"A few things, but it's all in there," the man said, pointing at the folder.
"I'll have a look myself."
He left, taking the folders with him; his next stop was the research department. It was empty at this hour, aside from a woman in a white lab coat who was busy analyzing samples. She was just the person he wanted to see. He approached her and clasped her shoulder.
"I hoped I'd find you here, Alice," he said.
"If you're hoping for something new, I don't have it."
"Did you finish with the one we brought you yesterday?"
"I'm still studying the samples, but so far, nothing new. I told you my opinion, we need a live one if we're to get anything from it."
"I know, I agree. I'm still working on it. How about the Moon Dust mixture? Is that any good?"
"It's hard to tell with only dead cells to experiment on, but I think it might be promising."
"Can you get a dozen ready and delivered today? We'll have them tested out in the field."
"I can have them ready in a few hours if you're still around."
"No, I'll be off-site. I'm trying out someone new and I have to keep an eye on him. If he works out…" He sucked in a breath of air. "He might just prove to be the solution to our problems."
"That good, huh? I haven't heard you this hopeful about a recruit in a long time. Not since…"
"Don't remind me." He rubbed his forehead, not wanting to think about that particular failure. "I think this one has a real chance. You didn't hear about Saturday?"
"He's the one who saved Lisa?"
The Director nodded. "He faced a shevamp with no weapon and moved fast enough to avoid her attack. Not even a scratch on him. But the man is a walking enigma. Came out of nowhere, dressed in armour like he's from the Middle Ages, making fire appear in the palm of his hand, wielding a silver sword."
"No trace of where he came from? I mean, I've heard of people living off the grid, but still…"
"Nothing. The name he gave us sounded Welsh, but there are no records of it."
"Yet you recruited him."
"What choice did I have? So far, he's the only one I've seen who might have a chance of capturing a shevamp for us. And he's been cooperating, albeit a little reluctantly." The woman quirked an eyebrow at him, an unspoken accusation behind it. "I might have threatened his lover and her family." He sighed.
"You didn't!" Her gaze was like a whip across his back. Or perhaps it was his own guilt for employing tactics he normally considered beneath him.
"I had to do something. What sane man would agree to what I'll ask of him? I needed to motivate him somehow."
"Let's just hope it doesn't blow up in your face."
He nodded and left her to her work. The corridors of the building were beginning to come alive with employees. Soon he would have to leave to supervise Lisa's team in the decoy headquarters, but first he needed to have a look over the reports. He reached his office and skimmed through the files regarding the vampires, hoping that one of them might be a slightly younger and inexperienced shevamp. He cursed. They were too old, again. Time was running out, and they'd just have to risk it with an adult. Maybe this new hunter could pull off that amazing feat. With that thought in mind, he opened the file labelled as Rivia, G. He flipped through the pages, reading the summary of the man's activities.
He's smart enough to figure out we're keeping him in the dark, but he trusts her. And she's still looking for Amanda Rice. Probably nothing to find there, but might as well cross-reference her description with recent bodies, might lead us closer to catching another vampire.
He hummed. On paper, they read like a usual couple: having dinner, talking about work, walking in the park, watching TV and sharing a bed, except they are a very unusual and unexpected couple. What business could a daughter of a monster hunter have with an architect, and why would she ever bring her monster-hunting father to an architect to be nursed back to health? What are you hiding, Miss Thompson?
A nagging feeling in the back of his mind demanded answers to all the questions that haunted him.
The Director turned to his computer and typed in his password. He watched in fast forward the recorded feed from the previous night. He paused the frame and squinted at the screen. The woman had her hand over his mouth, silencing him.
What were you about to say, I wonder?
He went back and turned on the sound. He replayed his last sentence. Nothing interesting. He rewinded a little further back and listened again. Still nothing. Maybe it was a woman's whim and nothing more. Yet something still didn't sit right with him. He was missing something, but he didn't know what.
He opened the file he had on her and read through the contents once more, then went to the internal affairs server and searched for any reference regarding Christine Thompson. No arrests, no complaints, nothing except an old missing person report from when she was 17. He opened the file. Her parents had reported her missing in July 2001. Apparently, she had disappeared without a trace for an entire month. Local law enforcement carried out searches in the area to no avail, only to have her turn up just as mysteriously on a neighbour's property.
They found her unconscious, half-naked, battered, bruised and barely breathing. He looked at the images showing her wounds and frowned. The cuts and puncture wounds on her arms and legs were deep. Some looked like medical incisions. There was no way those could heal without leaving a trace, yet he had seen firsthand that she had no scars. Her statements said she remembered nothing. She didn't know who took her, where she was held or what was done to her. There were no traces of anyone else where she was found. No footprints, not even hers. It was as if she fell from the sky. There were no further developments in the case, and she continued with her life as if nothing had happened.
I'd put money this is when she met him or his daughter. Or both.
He picked up the phone and dialled the lab.
"Alice, when you have Lisa's results, please forward them to me."
He looked silently at the screen on his phone. A picture of a young girl was looking back at him, her eyes the same as his own.
That morning she woke with one purpose in mind: to find out what happened to Amanda. Not only would it help her find peace, but it would also give her something else to think about except Geralt. The previous day, he had occupied her thoughts the whole time they were apart, and she missed him to the point her chest hurt. It was bordering on unhealthy and she knew it. She had never been a clingy person, and she didn't intend to become one now. Despite the utter madness that clouded her mind each time he touched or kissed her, she had to keep her sanity and control over the rest of her life. She couldn't let herself be consumed by him.
While he was at home, she focused her attention on him, soaking in each moment they were together, but once he left for work and she closed the door behind him, her thoughts jumped to everything she planned for the day. The first thing on her list was calling Andy. He picked up by the second ring.
"Morning, brother dearest!" she jokingly greeted him.
"Well, aren't you cheery? How come you're calling so early?"
"I wanted to catch you before you got too busy. It's about the project for Build Core. There's a woman there I want to get in touch with. Her name is Amanda Rice. She handles the investors for our project. I want to see what the current situation is and maybe I can help her pitch the project better to speed things along."
"Oh, I thought you'd want none of that. I was planning on taking care of the pitches on my next visit."
"Well, if I can meet with her, maybe I can save you a trip."
"Sure. Why not? Shall I forward you her contact information or do you want me to ask my secretary to call on your behalf and set up the meeting?"
"Both actually. She can set it up this afternoon if she's available. If not, any day this week works for me as long as it's after 2 pm. And have her forward me her contact, just in case."
"Ok, I'll ask her to do it. She'll message you the details for the meeting once it's arranged."
"Great! I'll let you know how it goes! Talk to you soon!"
She packed her things and headed for work. She tried to keep busy before her first lecture by arranging the materials for her presentation and thankfully, her students' questions about the upcoming finals were enough to keep her from thinking about either Geralt or Amanda. During class, she refrained from checking her phone - not only would that set a bad precedent, but it was also in poor taste. Once the lecture ended, it was the first thing she did. No new messages. Her mood soured. What if Geralt was right, and the woman was dead? If only she could meditate to get the answers and closure she needed, but with the house under surveillance, it would be risky. Who knew what they could see on their cameras. She had to settle for the old-fashioned way of doing things.
Her second lecture began, and she focused on doing her job properly. Halfway through her class, she heard her phone vibrate. She had an answer, be it good or bad. She mowed on with her presentation, stealing glances at the clock, willing time to pass quicker, to no avail. It was as if the seconds and minutes only grew longer to spite her.
After what was the longest hour of her life, she finally read the message. "Meeting set up, tomorrow at 3 pm, her office," said the text, along with a shared location. She breathed out in relief. The woman was still alive, against all odds. Now she had to figure out what to say to her. If she was cunning enough, maybe she could work her way back to the events of the charity ball. Find out what really happened that night.
She gathered her things, her mood significantly improved, and made her way out of the amphitheatre. The rest of the day drifted by as she went about her normal routine until late afternoon when Geralt came home.
"How was your day?" she asked him in the brief moment he pulled away from her lips.
"Much better now that I'm holding you," he replied, and kissed her again, leaving her breathless.
He was insatiable. His hands roamed around her body, searching for the best way to peel her out of her clothes, while his mouth never left hers. He made his way under her shirt, cupping her breasts, stroking down the side of her ribs, his touch firm, but ever so gentle at the same time. And ever so effective in relieving her of her senses.
She needed to feel him pressed up against her, skin on skin, with nothing in between them. Impatient fingers crawled under clothes, unbuttoned pants, stripped fabrics until they were bare, a tangled mess of limbs on the kitchen floor. The skin on her back stuck uncomfortably to the floor, but the feeling quickly faded, smothered by the overwhelming pleasure he brought her. His body curved into hers, and she moulded around him, embracing his whole being, welcoming him with gasps and moans.
A deep, low growl was building in his chest, his fingers clasped her thigh. He drew back, looking into her eyes, shifting from frantic movements to a slow grind. Between lowered lashes, she saw his eyes travel up and down her body, devouring every little pleasured twitch of her body - all of it, his doing. Her fingers traced his taut muscles, the lines of his scars, grasping for control but finding only pleasure. Their unison laboured breathing was the only sound that mattered, the music that accompanied their ecstasy between soft sensual kisses. She whispered his name, drowning in him and clinging to him at the same time. She whispered it again, a little louder, a little pitchier, and he moaned in return, spurred on by her want.
"Come with me," he whispered. His tongue stroked hers, long, soft, as if he was just discovering the taste of her mouth. He took a breath and his hand caressed up her leg to cup her ass, lifting her hips off the floor and angling them towards his. The steady roll of his hips picked up and had her gasping for breath, hanging by a thread, just like him. And with a shudder, she let go, falling into herself, crumbling under the weight of his passion and he was right there, beside her, with his fingers digging into her flesh, losing control. For a fraction of a second, she saw colours, bright and beautiful. Then his golden eyes were the only thing that mattered as he stared down at her, loving and gentle.
Her nails scratched his neck. She needed his lips, needed his kiss like fresh grass needs the morning dew to feed it. He leaned into her and, for a moment, she felt the full weight of his body on top of her before he regained enough control to steady himself on his forearms. Their long kiss turned into a slow, languid game until they both recovered their senses. Only then did she feel the roughness of the hardwood floor underneath her. Her back and hips ached from the hard surface they had been pressed into repeatedly.
"We really should have taken this to bed... Your knees must hurt like mad. I know my back does," she said.
"We should have... they do... it was worth it," he replied, leaning back and extending a hand to help her get up. She grabbed his hand and stood, looking back at the floor.
"Looks like we polished one spot on this floor. One less thing for the cleaning service to do tomorrow."
He caressed the length of her back, down to her buttocks. "Sorry, the cleanliness of the floor was the least of my concerns."
She picked up their discarded clothing and took his hand. "Let's take a shower. I didn't even get to hear about your day."
"There's not much to tell." He shrugged as they walked towards the bathroom.
He began recounting his day over the running water.
"I didn't have to kill anything or anyone today. We just wasted time, waiting to see if they could corral a vampire into a safe area. That woman, Lisa, didn't even show up today. I guess mandatory presence is a requirement only for me. When I asked the Director about it, he told me the same thing as last time… I should spend time with the rest to build camaraderie," his voice drawled, mocking the Director's monotone speech. "They're all still convinced I'd let them die out of spite, if given the chance."
"Maybe it's the other way around. Maybe he thinks they'll let you die."
He shook his head, amused. "I doubt it. Despite first impressions, they're not so bad. Plus, I'm used to hunting alone. They're the ones who need numbers to survive. And even then…" He cut off and shook his head. "Anyway, I decided to play ball, and trained with them the whole day."
"Hope you didn't knock them about... I can't imagine they were up to task. Do they even use anything except guns?"
"Two of them use swords, and no, I didn't knock them about. That would defeat the purpose. I'm trying to... make friends. If I wanted them hurt, I could have let them die yesterday. Nothing could have been easier. I showed them a few combinations of moves and we sparred a bit with wooden swords. To trade, they showed me how to work a gun. Think they had as many laughs at my expense as I did at theirs."
"Sounds like you bonded a bit."
"It wasn't bad, I admit. I think maybe I'm starting to miss Eskel and Lambert. Pff, if Lambert knew, he'd take the piss out of me."
"I'd like to see that. It sounds like the three of you have quite a bit of fun."
"Only if you're drunk." He laughed. "Lambert is an acquired taste, the kind that might never catch on. And he hates everybody, the grouch. I wonder if you'll get him to take to you."
She shrugged. "We'll see. I do my best to get along with everyone, but no one is to everyone's taste. He might end up hating me. You didn't like me much when we first met either."
"On the contrary, I liked you a little too much. In very inappropriate ways." His hands rested on her hips as he measured her from head to toe with a hungry look in his eyes. "I imagined you moaning my name, and that thought was enough to keep me up at night. I imagined many other things, but you might think lower of me if I tell you what they were."
She giggled, and he quirked an eyebrow at her. "At least I wasn't the only one to get dirty thoughts. Many times, I wished you had put a shirt on because I couldn't stop leering. I feared you'd catch me and deem me a creep." It was her turn to scorch him with her gaze. "You do have the most amazing body."
"Now who's the flatterer?" He laughed and kissed her. "My smooth-talking nymph, you haven't told me about your day."
"What's there to say? I don't have exciting vampire hunts like you. Just boring lectures." She paused and grinned. "But I have a meeting with Amanda set up for tomorrow afternoon."
"She's alive?" he asked with a look of shock plastered over his face. "I could have bet you anything she was dead!"
"Seems she's not. But I'm trying not to get ahead of myself. Until I see her with my own two eyes, nothing is confirmed."
"I assume I don't have to tell you to be careful."
"You don't, but you just did, so I'll consider myself warned."
