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Chapter Two

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I wake up with a dark cloud over my head, knowing that there is something I am supposed to do. What this ‘something’ is, I cannot recall at the moment and will therefore attempt to make the best out of my evening. I get out off bed and hit the shower. It is not until I dry myself up that I remember what I know will become another bad memory.

“Please, let it have been a nightmare,” I whisper to my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

The blood and the fine layer of ash on my stake tell me that it was not – and I had hoped that this was going to be a good night. I hate my life. With only remnants of hope left that I have been having a nightmare and the blood and ash on my stake have a perfectly none-vampire-slaying explanation, I move a floor down to savour the last rays of hope of my night – breakfast.

Before preparing my meal I empty my mailbox to pick up The Daily Inquirer, a human newspaper. I do not really care about the human world, but I have learned that since we live door to door with them it is rather wise to have at least half an eye on their activities. Truth to be told, I have not payed any great attention to the humans since I was one, and that is an experience I would rather not have again.

After finishing my breakfast I check my answering machine and find, to my lesser surprise, a message from Jackston.

“We have to talk. Call me as soon as you hear this.”

He sounds more alert tonight. Good, he will need his strength. I shall request his help later tonight, but for now I have other things to do. Jackston will have to wait for some hours.

When searching for information about anyone, it is common knowledge where to go. In these modern days, every last bit of information about someone is written down and stored away in a cabinet somewhere. Finding this cabinet is seldom required, since everything is stored on computers too, but knowing that I am not a hacker, and have no intentions of becoming one, I shall be doing this the old fashion way. I think back to the night before and try to remember as much of the kid’s story as possible. He said that he moved from California to England with his parents, he was about twenty years old and newly reborn. Statistically he is one of the many juvenile teenagers that has slipped once or twice and broken the human laws. My best guess is therefore the local police station, where they stash all records of lawbreakers for at least the past decade.

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The Police station is always more populated during night. It is ironic that humans seem to be more active during night, just like us. Ironic, since we only hunt during night and that is when they prefer to be awake. Any normal being attempting to break into a police station to steal information would be intimidated by the many officers crawling all over the place – I am not. I have been here before and I know exactly where to go, and how to get there. This saves me a lot of time and minimizes the risk of being caught. I pray that I am not caught – I would hate to have to kill tonight. I am not in the mood. No, this will have to be a swift in-and-out mission.

The police archives are not nearly as big as the one we have in the Asylaum. This is however natural since they do not have access to the same space as us and their archives spands a couple of decades, whereas ours spands over several millenias. I suspect that we common Brethrens are not allowed access to even a third of our entire Archive, but as far as the Council are concerned we are given access to ‘everything of importance’. In many ways, our Archives are similar to those of the police – we are, like the humans, not allowed access to the interesting content. What we are allowed to see, and what we are not allowed to see, is governed by the leaders of our society. The difference between our two societies is however crucial – where our society is well aware of the existence of vampires and therefore fully protected against their abilities, the human society is not. There is therefore little the humans could do if the actually did catch me – and yet I pray that they do not.

After ten minutes I have found what I was looking for and leave their file room, careful to lock the door behind me. I do not want anyone to know that their files have been tampered with. I move through the corridors with the intention of leaving through a window, I am still located in the area that is off-limit to civilians. A window is the fastest and easiest way out of here. I open the the door to an office – no one is there, as I expected. Had anyone been in there I imagine that he would have been greatly surprised seeing someone rush through his office and leave through his window. I chuckle to myself at the thought.

“Freeze!”

Damn – I have been careless. While no one was in the office itself, someone has clearly spotted me in the corridor. I place my hands in the air and turn around to face the officer aiming a gun at me.

“Put your hands in the air, turn around and slowly walk towards me,” she says, clearly reciting the police handbook.

Having already performed the first two instructions, I consider the third. I can still escape. If I plunge myself through the window, she will have no chance of catching me. There is still a risk that she manages to fire a shot and hit me on my way out. I am not fast enough to outrun a bullet. And bullets, I have learned from experience, hurt. Still, I would rather be shot than spend the night in interrogation, explaining to the police that I am a vampire and that I broke into their records only to find some information about another vampire that turned bad and I thusly had to kill. That story sounds farfetched even to me. Besides, plunging through the window from here is clearly not an action that any human could perform. I would give myself away if doing so.

“Fine,” I sigh, “lead the way.”

We walk through a few corridors before being joined by three other officers. Obviously they do not get visitors often and everyone is eager to greet me welcome. The three new officers are more experienced than the female one who caught me, I can tell by their rank but mostly by their expressions. They carry the faces of old war veterans. These guys have been through a lot, but even as I am cuffed I know that they would be no match to me. However, killing is not an acceptable option tonight. As I said – I am not in the mood. And the Council is definitely not in the mood for more news about me misbehaving. I shall simply have to sit this one through.

I am placed in an interrogation room. The four officers leave me cuffed in a chair as they go after what I would expect to be their boss. I hear breathing behind the mirror wall in front of me. Two of the officers stay behind to guard me – smart move.

“How do you figure he got in here?” the first guard asks the other.

“No idea,” the second guard replies, “but one thing is for sure – he won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

They chuckle to each other. Human arrogance – disgusting.

“What do you figure the Sarge will do to him?” they continue.

“Let’s find out.”

Their breathing is not as relaxed anymore. I hear a door open and close. The ‘Sarge’ has arrived, I gather.

“Report,” he demands with a harsh voice.

“I found him in the corridor,” the female officer explains. “I think he came from the records room, but I caught him just as he entered Johnson’s office.”

She saw me even as I left the records room? I have been more careless than I thought. I must be rusty – it has been too long since I last did this type of things.

“Any idea what he was looking for in the records room?” the Sarge continues.

“None,” the female officer replies.

The two officers shake their heads. Score one for me. At least then have not noticed what cabinets I went through, nor what I found. I wonder where the fourth officer went – probably on a coffee break. I hear the Sarge sigh deep before leaving the room behind the mirror wall. Then I hear him take two steps behind the left wall before opening the door to the interrogation room. He is a big guy. He takes the chair on the other side of the table and sits down.

“You,” he growls. “Name!”

I look at him and smile. He is a pack of dynamite waiting to be lit.

“Easter,” I reply.

“Easter what?” he demands.

“Bunny,” I grin. “May I leave now?”

He smacks me with an open hand over my left cheek. He is strong, for a human. I have changed my mind – I do want to kill tonight.

“That,” I growl, “was a big mistake.”

With my hands cuffed behind me I am unable to hit back, but I could easily rid of him anyway. I choose not to. With three witnesses it would be foolish.

“Now you listen to me, punk,” he roars, “the big mistake was breaking into my station and try to steal my information!”

“My, my, a bit self-centered, are we?”

He raises his fist above his head and strikes at me again. This time I dodge. The strength of his attempted blow unbalances him and causes him to fall to the table. He manages to break the fall with his other hand, glaring at me with red cheeks. I think I just lit the fuse.

“You little!” he screams before rushing over to my side.

He pulls his baton, swinging for my temple. I dodge and kick myself away from the table. There is no time to worry about our spectators now. The Sarge’s blow misses once more and he swings with brute force against any part of my body he might hit. I leap out of my chair faster than any human eye could register. Before he realises that I am gone, I have kicked his feet of the ground and sit on the table with the key to my cuffs in my hands. He glares at me with a fury greater than fire and gets back on his feet quickly, for a human. When he launches at me again my hands are free and I smack him into the wall behind him. The flight has knocked him out. I step in front of him and decide that he will be quenching my thirst tonight. Behind me the door flings open.

“Had fun?”

“Sufficiently,” I reply. “You’re late.”

“It’s not too easy to find you when you fail to tell me where you were going,” Jackston says.

“I didn’t fail to tell you,” I say. “I simply chose not to.”

“Great,” Jackston sighs, “mind not killing the police officer?”

“Why not?” I ask, disappointed.

“You know why.”

“’Thou shalt always uphold the human laws when possible’,” I sigh, reciting the Guidance.

“That’s why,” Jackston smiles. “Now let’s get going before it’s no longer possible to uphold their laws. The others won’t be out forever.”

“What did you do to them?” I ask.

“Persuaded them into taking a nap,” he says. “Don’t worry – they won’t remember a thing.”

When we leave the police station we walk by the room behind the mirror wall. The three officers are lying in a pile on the floor, but there is no sign of violence. The abilites of a Reader never ceases to amaze me.

“Mind-control?” I ask Jackston.

He nods in reply.

“Good thing that you can’t juggle vampire brains around like that too,” I laugh.

He smiles to himself. Like every vampire, I know that he too longs for greater power. And what greater power would there be than the ability to control the very mind of a vampire?

“There was a fourth officer,” I inform Jackston.

“I know,” he says. “He’s out too.”

Impressive, Jackston has never been much for violence, but this is not the first time he saves my arse by forcing humans into mental submission. We leave the police station hastily. I have had enough of the police for one night.

---

“So what did you find out?”

We are sitting back at The Bloody Thirst enjoying another of those mesmerising goat blood and cinnamon drinks. Jackston is questioning me about what I learned in the police records.

“His name was Jonathan Baker, and he had a speeding ticket,” I reply.

“And?” Jackston ask, clearly not satisfied with my response.

“And he was human, turned vampire, then monster and lastly a pile of ash. Story of his life,” I state.

“You broke into the police station, got caught and almost tossed into prison and that’s all you found out?” he ejaculates.

“Pretty much,” I shrug.

“You’re impossible,” he mutters to himself.

“What now? It’s not my bloody fault that the humans don’t keep records of who’s turned into a vampire or who’s run into a Succubus, is it now?” I ask, slightly amused.

He laughs.

“No, I guess not.”

We spend a good time in silence, pondering the situation before I speak again.

“You don’t have to help me in this, you know. It’s not you the Council is after,” I say.

“Had I not helped you tonight you wouldn’t here with a nice glass of blood. Instead, you’d be locked up in a human prison, for who-knows-how-long.” Jackston replies. “No, we’re in this together – you need me.”

I smile at his conclusion, then take a big sip out of my glass.

“Besides,” he continues. “It’s not as if I have anything better to do. If the Council disagrees I can simply state that the police station incident was a practise – a chance for me to improve my abilites.”

We laugh, toast and drink. This night has gone so bad that it very well could be worse than yesterday. Not only was I caught and humiliated, but I paid that price for nothing. The kid’s name, dental records and speeding ticket are worth nothing to me. I came there searching for answers but left only with a sore jaw. That human could really punch. He would have knocked a weaker human unconcious.

Back to square one. Without any ash to analyse, there is basically no way of telling what made the kid turn into whatever he became. Unless another annoying kid walks through that door again, which I doubt, there is no chance of retrieving any blood-crying monster ashes.

“...but is instead spread with the wind over what I would guess to be the majority of London?”

I think about what Lord Amaddeaus said. Maybe it was foolish to dust the kid like that. At least I could have sampled some of his ashes. I know the procedures in situations like this. If I only had a sample. That is when it his me – I remember something from the other night. I put my glass to the table, still half-full.

“Jackston, I need your coat!”

“My coat? Why would you need—,” he asks perplexed.

“Not this one, the other one. The one you wore yesterday. It still has ashes on it, doesn’t it?” I ask eagerly.

“Yes, yes. But why would you need the ashes?” he wonders.

He has obviously not realised that the path to the source of the kid probably lies in the remnants of the kid. I grab Jackston by the arm and pull him to the exit.

“We’re leaving,” I inform.

The sooner I finish this task, the sooner I can return to my normal lifestyle doing virtually nothing and simply enjoying my existence.

The time is about 1 a.m. when we reach the lab at the Asylaum. We have brought Jackston’s coat with us in a plastic bag. After having explained myself, Jackston is soon as eager as I am to find out about the ashes on the coat, though he is not particulary fond of handing his expensive velvet coat over to scientists.

“Don’t worry Jackston. You’ll have it back as good as new,” I promise.

“If not, it’s coming out of your pocket,” he mutters.

I laugh at him as I turn the plastic bag over to a scientist.

“Here. Analyse the ash and check for any abnormalities,” I order the scientist.

“Very well, sir,” he replies. “Please return in a week for the results.”

“A week?” I ejaculate. “No way! I need it in a few hours or so.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but we are unable to work any faster than this. Keep in mind that you are not the only Brethren asking us for analyses.”

“This won’t do,” I mutter to myself. “Jackston, can’t you do something?”

“I’m sorry. This is over my head. There’s nothing I can do,” Jackston replies.

Just my luck – a week. As if I do not have better things to do. Then again, the Council did say that I was not to return to them until I had some answers, and since I cannot do anything but wait for the answers I might as well do that. Mainly since I do not have any intentions whatsoever of seeing the Council more than necessary.

“A week will be fi—,”

“Perhaps I can do something.”

A young female cuts me off out of nowhere. Her long bright blond hair is tied up in a proper ponytail. The palest blue eyes are sternly fixed on the scientist as to bend his will. She is wearing grey jacket with a matching skirt. Only an oddly shaped silver pendant hanging round her neck appears out of place; other than that, she appears truly professional. I can already tell that I do not like her.

“This sample shall be prioritized over any other experiments you scientists might be conducting,” she demands.

“Y-yes, m’am,” the scientist stutters.

I am impressed. Only a Lord, which clearly she is not, has that affect on the scientists. That can only mean that she works for them. She turns to me and looks at me through a pair of glasses that makes me think that she is a secretary, though I can tell by her impression that she is not. She is young though.

“I’m Ariane Tash,” she informs me and offers her hand to me.

In the corner of my eye I see Jackston practically drooling all over her.

“Get a grip,” I whisper to him. “She’s practically a child. She can’t be a day over fifty.”

He does not answer. He is completely absorbed by her. Strange, Jackston is not a ladies man, and this Ariane is obviously not a Succubus. I can tell – she is not attractive enough.

“I’ve been assigned to aid you in your mission,” she continues.

“I don’t need an assistent,” I state coldly.

“I’m your partner,” she counters.

“No you’re not,” I say, though knowing where this will end up.

“The Council has ordered you to co-operate,” she informs.

“Why wouldn’t they,” I sigh.

“Inform me when the results are in,” she says before leaving us.

Jackston cannot take his eyes of her body as she walks away. Embarassing – an Elder like himself cannot control himself in the company of a mere Reborn.

“Get a grip,” I say, slapping him on the shoulder.

He mutters to himself as if having awoken from the best dream of his life. At least he seems to be back to his old self. I prefer him that way. I cannot have this Reborn have him in the palm of her hand just because Jackston is feeling a bit lonely.

“W-what happened?” he stutters.

“Smashing,” I sigh.

She has made him all warm and fuzzy inside. I did not think ice queens could do that to people. I sit down next to him. There is nothing to do now but to wait for the results – and hope that this Ariane falls flat on a pointy stick.

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Chapters

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | Epilogue