Julius’ face grew still, and in a soft voice he said, “You’re keeping secrets from me.”
Marco nodded. “I’m sorry, brother. Derek’s death seemed like a personal attack, and it pained me so much, I didn’t want to share what I’ve learned. However, in light of Warren’s disappearance, there’s something I’ve got to show you.”
Marco crossed the room, his nearly useless legs dragging on the floor as his will carried his misshapen body. Sitting down heavily in the overstuffed chair behind his desk, he pulled the trid recording from the center desk drawer. “Have a look at this.”
Julius’ face became even more still. “What is it?” His voice was little more than a whisper, the soft buffeting of a breeze through fallen leaves.
“It’s from the man who killed Derek.”
As if reaching for a live scorpion, Julius took the chip over to a tall bookshelf. He put his race to the hidden retinal scanner that had been placed in an ancient hardcover of Moby Dick. Then he stepped back, and the book case recessed and slid down into the floor, revealing a security console and a large trideo rig.
Marco slotted the chip and stood there as Martin de Vries came into view. Julius watched the whole thing without making a sound. When the monitor faded to black, he turned back to Marco.
Julius was nearly shaking with anger. “This explains a few things, like the unusual distribution of our Sec forces for the last couple of weeks. You shouldn’t have kept this from me.”
Marco forced himself to seem contrite. Bowing his head, he said, “You’re right, brother. It was short-sighted of me to think that this de Vries was through, that he would only come after me.”
“I want him. If he’s taken Warren, he’ll find that we have ways of making even vampires suffer before they die.”
Marco nodded, once again keeping a smile from his lips only by force of will. “Find him. If you can get to him soon enough, Warren might still be alive. Go, use whatever resources you need.”
Julius turned and headed for the door. “I will, brother. I will hunt this Martin de Vries, and if he’s hurt Warren, then I’ll make sure his death is neither clean, nor painless.”
Marco squinted at the bit of sunlight that peeked through as Julius opened the door and left. Be careful, brother You’re still human. At least for a little while longer.
7
A creature with the power of mist form can transform its physical body into a mist by controlling the molecular cohesion of its cells. The mist can pass through any crack or crevice that is not airtight, even penetrating filtration systems that are proof against gases or pollution.
–
from Paranonnal Animals of Europe. first edition, by Charles Spencer, Department of Parabiology, University of Oxford, 2053
While Short Eyes slept the night away, de Vries hunted. This nights hunt was just part of the long hunt, the kind that required months of tracking, preparation, and that would culminate in violence and death.
Short Eyes was one of only a few humans who understood his hunt. But de Vries had a feeling about this other one, this stripper who looked so much like Josephine. He wanted to believe she would be another, even if it was only to help retrieve the one she loved.
From across the street, he watched her exit The Joy Club. He crouched on the roof of The Headlight Factory, just behind a monstrous set of neon breasts. De Vries took in the sight of her and found himself forgetting to breathe.
With a sharp intake of smog-laden air, he tracked her as she walked through the early evening heat. it was Josephine, and yet it was not. He trembled slightly at the proud way she tossed her head not letting the heat humble her as it did the other denizens of the district.
She walked through the others like a princess among her subjects. Her see-through plastic micro that clearly showed the hot-pink g-string underneath, her azure blouse that left nothing to the imagination, showing perfect little breasts that swayed naturally-no augmentation there. These things were not Josephine. No, Josephine would never have worn those clothes even in the privacy of their home, let alone out on the Street. Also, this girl was muscular where Josephine had been frail.
Still, the tilt of her head, her grace as she dodged the press of foot traffic, these things were Josephine through and through.
He watched her strut, the tips of her stiletto heels dragging sparks from the concrete, her open sexuality taunting those she encountered to do anything other than look, then cast their gaze back down to the filthy pavement.
De Vries knew that this section of downtown was controlled by the yakuza, and considered “safe.” Patrols of yak kumi-in kept the streets free of gangs and organized violence, but that wouldn’t stop sex-starved, drunk corporate slots from attacking a barely clad stripper on her way home.
De Vries knew where she was going, knew it as he knew that she was aroused. The scent of her came to him, strong enough to overcome even the stench of the streets, and he knew she was headed toward Warren’s doss. It was only five blocks over, though a dangerous five blocks. Still, she walked without fear, almost as if daring anyone to accost her.
De Vries knew what she would find when she got to Warren’s, however. He thought about the night he returned home to find Josephine gone, to find that she had been taken by a dark one. He remembered the sense of void and loss as he searched for her.
As he watched Rachel swagger down the Street, he decided to spare her that pain, even if it meant revealing things she might not want to know.
Silent as a wraith, he crept along the building tops, trailing her, gliding from rooftop to rooftop as she crossed the streets. Finally she turned down the one leading to Warren’s doss. Here the shadows would make her more cautious, but would give him the cover he needed before revealing himself.
Still, he found himself hesitating.
Then he smiled to himself in the darkness. He was the vampire, and a caster of spells, yet this mortal creature had captured him with a spell far more powerful than any magic at his own disposal.
He took a deep breath, pulled a pack of Platinum Selects from his pocket and gently swooped to the ground, almost half a block in front of her, just meters from Warren’s front door.
De Vries watched her approach, only remembering his cigarette when she was close enough for him to catch her scent. The scent of roses.
She flinched a little when he touched flame to his smoke, but didn’t pause in her stride.
“Miss Harlan, a moment of your time?”
She kept on walking, and only someone whose eyes were bred to the dark, as his were, would have caught the slight lengthening of her stride, the defensive swing of her arms.
“Rachel?”
“Frag off.” Her tone was a quiet rasp, no fear, no anger, just the words. spoken with enough edge to give a normal human pause.
He smiled to himself again, knowing that Josephine would never use that kind of language but then again, Josephine had been sheltered from the dark, dangerous world this beautiful creature took for granted.
“He’s not home.”
She passed him by. the subtle shift of her stride the only indication that she was attempting to place herself outside the edge of his grasp. If he had been a normal human, she would have succeeded nicely.
He made no move. “Miss Harlan, please. You won’t find him there, and we need to talk. There is much you don’t know, and if Warren is to survive what’s going to happen, there’s not a moment to waste.”
Without warning, she spun on him, a heavy Seco LD-120 pistol emerging from her purse.
Her aggressive stance caught de Vries off guard. “Back off,” she said.
Her hand was going for something else in her purse, and de Vries recognized the shape of a screamer alarm.
If she sets that thing off the yaks will be here any minute. He needed more time than that.
He stepped to the side, too fast for her to track. She didn’t shoot, though she shifted her stance, trying to keep her aim.
De Vries pulled the electronic screamer from her hand before her finger could touch the button.
Rachel spun around again, trying to find her elusive assailant. When she found him again, her eyes locked onto his face. Whatever went through her mind, it only lasted an instant. The next moment her decision was made.