Episode 1x03: RPattz is a Douchebag (Part 1 of 2)
Lei hated standing in line, especially when it was cold as a witch’s tit outside. Milwaukee March’s weren’t exactly known for their kind and gentle warm breezes, and tonight was especially frigid after last week’s odd heat wave. Still, the nursing student whose parents lived the American Dream after immigrating from China before the birth of their baby girl couldn’t resist taking advantage of her night off to check out Daybreakers.
Inside was much warmer, considerably so after the first couple drinks. Apparently it was Ladies Night, or Nursing Student’s Night--whatthehellever. Lei had been a bit of a party-girl in her undergrad years, and she couldn’t remember better prices. Or better looking bar tenders. She smiled at him for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes as he lead her toward the darkly lit VIP section behind the velvet curtain, happily enjoying the buzz that made the last week of studying melt away in a cottony haze. Her feet were killing her, but it was the price to pay for fashion, and she was damned well taking full advantage of her best stilettos tonight.
The throb of the club beat drowned out almost all communication, and it didn’t fade by much even as they reached the far end of a long string of privacy booths. The Bartender stepped up into the little space, holding a hand out to help her in more easily. The spindly young woman accepted with a leaning smile, and a subtle list in her balance.
“Who’m I supposed to be waiting for?” She all but shouted at him over the music, and could barely hear her own voice. Bartender hottie leaned in to speak directly into her ear, and the touch of his skin against hers was surprisingly cold but nice in the thick heat of the club.
“You’ll know him when you see him,” he told her, then pulled out and left her alone.
Lei twisted the little straw in her cocktail between the pads of her fingertips between sips. Her dark eyes swivelled toward the mist-strewn dance floor just barely shadowed by the tinted glass wall that separated it from this little nook of privacy. She remembered a mirror there on the other side--a one way, obviously. Voyeur’s dream...She snerked to herself with that thought, and slumped against the cushion with a renewed impatience sweeping the scattered patrons with her eyes.
That’s when she saw him. The Bartender had been dead on. He seem to radiate allure and confidence, the crowd of pulsing bodies bending around him like water around stone as he made his way through it. As he moved, he connected eyes with her through the screen. Lei’s perfectly manicured brows arched.
Can he see me? Maybe she’d been wrong about the mirror, but who the fuck cared? She found her smile was automatic and warm as the heavy booze and raspberry smoke atmosphere on the floor. One small hand cradled her drink while the other brushed back the sleek swoop of dark hair on her cheek. He appeared in the little booth in a matter of moments. He had an ageless quality to him; when he turned his eyes up to her, he could have been twenty-two, but when he angled his body into hers and slid up against her, his profile looked closer to thirty.
“How has your night been so far, Lovely Lei?”
Bold didn’t seem to do the man’s method justice, but ’effective’ definitely did. Lei felt her blood pressure skyrocket when he closed the distance between their hips. Christ, it’d been way too long since she got out and actually had a little random fun. The thought turned what should’ve been an alarm at his knowing her name into nothing more than a coy, curious lilt to her head.
“Going much better, now...” Her tilted smile opened a little, and she stirred her empty drink with it’s straw. “We’ve met before?” Cause I sure as hell would’ve remembered.
“Oh, no,” he murmured. Even the quietness of his voice seemed to cut through the heady music. “But I know you. I’ve been watching you for a while, in fact.” She watched him for a half-a-beat longer than anticipated.
“S’that right?” Now a couple of soft alarm bells were going off in the back of her mind, but after three martini’s, her reaction to them was a tad delayed. The spike of heat in her blood flushed her cheeks and the hollow above her collarbone. Lei felt her breathing alter just a little--like she’d almost taken a bad step. “How’d I get so lucky?” Maybe it was just a cute come-on.
His lips curved in a smile as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the curve of her throat. “Some would call it fate,” he said, pressing a second kiss lower. “Others might call it a well-organized accident.” His lips were cold, like he’d been sucking on an ice cube for the last ten minutes, but it could’ve just been the contrast. Lei did feel in the grips of a sudden fever, which spread, ironically, from the chill his kisses shot down her spine.
“Organized by you?” She let out a scant breath and felt her grip on the empty glass tighten a little. Nerves or severe interest tightened as heated wire behind her ribs.
She felt him chuckle. “Perhaps,” he said into the crook of her neck. His tongue found the deep central vein of her throat and traced it upward, all the way to her earlobe. “But it was more than worth it. You are beyond perfect. I will savor this.”
More chills, more tightened breaths, more alarm bells. Through the filter of her buzz, prey-animal instincts were easily confused with the common bundle of nerves that made this very unexpected turn of her evening so enticing. Her eyes had closed the moment his lips touched her throat the second time. Now they opened, barely focused on nothing in particular through thick lashes. His last words ran through her head again and again, as she naturally tried to pick them apart for meaning. The longer it eluded her, the faster her pulse began to race.
His lips rested against the vein and he smiled against her neck, one hand coming up to stroke through her hair as he took a deep breath. His hand came up over her mouth as his lips parted. It took the electric pulses in Lei’s nerves just a little longer than normal to send the message to her brain, but once it clicked, that tiny bit of enticing fear enveloped any bit of mystery. She stiffened against him faintly, and moved to peel his palm away from her lips. His hand only sealed against her mouth more firmly at her attempt.
“That’s right,” he murmured again. “You should be afraid. I want you to be afraid of me. It’ll taste all the better.” Then there was nothing but blinding pain.
Her scream was swallowed into nothing more than background noise to the music and the explosion of terror and agony in Lei’s head. She felt her skin tear under too many, too sharp teeth--her body went rigid and thrashed uselessly in the grip of the booth and him.
***
Ben awoke blearily to music. Or more specifically, humming. Humming made louder by the echoing cadence of the bathroom door being open. He turned his head away from the direction of the noise and grunted in displeasure, grabbing a pillow and covering his head.
“S’turly!” he muffled in protest. The humming stopped, followed by Claire peeking out of the open door. Her hair, usually twisted in it’s natural, slightly chaotic curl, was sleekly straightened by her careful efforts with a round brush and a hairdryer. She was also wearing earrings, and a dress, and a subtle smirk derived from the state of disaster he had managed to turn his bed into.
“You’ll live,” she said, sweet as cayenne spiked hot chocolate. Her heels clicked on the bathroom tile, then disappeared onto the carpet as she crossed the room and leaned over her open laptop to check something.
Ben simply groaned again. She’d tried to weasel him into going with her the night before, but he’d changed the subject by talking about the case they were investigating. There were six missing persons, four females and two males, all in their 20s but without any obvious link between them. He’d stayed up four hours after she’d gone to sleep, sitting on the floor in the bathroom in an attempt to give her some quiet so she could rest. Apparently that favor was worthless. He made a mental note to pay her back for the early wake-up call at a later date.
If anything, it was her general cheeriness that made it all the worse. People should not have been allowed to be that cheery in the morning on any day of the week.
“A plague on both your houses,” he muffled into his pillow again. Claire rolled her eyes.
“Your enthusiasm is catchy,” she offered dryly, then shut the laptop with a gentle click. Claire looked over the dark tee shirt tangled in blankets and sheets, with the shock of wild brown hair peeking over the pillow he used to escape the light. Her sense of sympathy was bittersweet; she’d hoped he would go to Mass with her this time. Whenever she was able to make a service, it always ‘recharged her spiritual batteries’, so to speak, and Claire wanted to share that with him. That she knew he had no interest in going was a soft blow, but she had to admit: Ben’s over-tired groaning was pretty adorable.
She headed back for the bathroom with a soft, defeated breath, but took the opportunity to lightly graze her fingernails up the spine of his exposed foot as she passed, just for good measure. He squeaked and recoiled like a girl. “I’ll bring back food.”
“I love you like the sun loves the flower,” he declared, then took a moment to properly untangle himself and pull both the blanket and his pillow over his head. Claire continued to half-smirk, half-smile in the bathroom mirror, polishing herself with the finishing touches of lip gloss and a quick pantie-hose check. She stepped back toward the door, threading on the nice wool trench coat she used for anything where her worn canvass parka would bring unnecessary attention.
“I’ll give the police chief your warmest regards then,” Claire teased with a slightly tipped smile as she reached for the door. “Never misses a service.”
“Tell ‘im I’m Jewish or somethin’,” Ben muffled one last time, making a very definitive shooing motion with his hand from under the pile of the pillow and blanket.
****
Two and a half hours later, Claire finagled the drink tray and plastic bags in her hands to slide the key-card through their door’s lock. She wound inside, welcomed by the warmth. Spring may’ve been around the corner, but Milwaukee wasn’t known for giving in to more delicate weather without a fight. The wind was blasting outside, and had had it’s way with her hair and dress more than a few times that morning.
Ben was hard at work behind the computer screen, his sprawling outline of print-offs, news clippings, pictures, and connecting yarn displayed like a mixed media portrait on the wall behind him. Four different newspapers were in shreds next to him on the table, and his face was cast in the off-color electronic light emitted from the screen. He made a noise of greeting, but otherwise didn’t look up.
We’re talking in grunts now? Claire mused to herself, a smirk turned in his direction as she set the spread of food on the hotel table, then started peeling off her coat. “You would not believe the level of donut variety here...”
At the mention of food, Ben finally tore his eyes away from the screen. He’d already eaten what was left of the leftover pizza they’d ordered the night before. “Oh yeah?” Claire nodded, looking rather proud of herself. It’d been a very productive morning; somber work and information and all, the donuts had been a sort of pick-me-up. She never imagined just how seriously Wisconsin natives took their morning pastries.
“Maple and candied bacon with a chocolate drizzle, or strawberry champagne danish. Take your pick.” They also came with two huge, very fragrant coffees on the side. Ben’s eyes appeared to momentarily bulge out of his head.
“Maple and candied bacon?” he repeated, sounding amazed and bewildered at the same time. “Hell yes, lemme at it.” His perk factor shot up about fifty points. Claire felt like she just won a gold star.
“Dig in,” she said right before a sip from her cardboard cup. Claire smoothed the front of her dress before settling in the opposite chair. “Looks like the PD only started connecting the dots after the last girl went missing,” she said, tearing a piece of danish off with her fingertips, poised over it like ivory spiders. Some of Claire’s childhood table manners remained, where others didn’t. For one reason or another, she just never got into the habit of saying Grace.
It’s been hell this month, the chief of police confessed to the young blond woman he had thought was one of his wife’s new interns at the University. Spring thaws out all the crazies. Anything from Aliens to Vampires.. Then he commented on how surprising it was a ‘lovely young woman’ such as herself was so interested in stupid things like that. “They’re a dead end. No one’s come through the morgue.”
“Guess we’re gonna have to go deeper,” Ben said around a mouthful of donut, chewing slowly. He made a show of rolling his eyes back into his head. “Holy shit, this is amazing. You only got one?” Claire made it a point to look hurt, then countered the expression with a deeply cut smirk. She set her coffee down and pushed a finger on the hinge of the blank cardboard box once tied with twine. Inside was a treasure trove of maple bacon and strawberry champagne donuts.
Ben’s face split into a wide grin as he looked up at her eyes again. “There was a sampling section, wasn’t there?” She broke apart in a short, grinning laugh.
“Maybe.”
“Where have you been all my life?”
Claire smiled a little awkwardly around her first bite, trying like Hell to ignore the bloom of warmth under her cheeks, or tell herself it was from the cold. She swallowed quietly and washed it all down --feelings and all-- with a good gulp of coffee. “Pontiac, Illinois.”
He grinned, finishing his donut in three swift bites before taking a good swig from his coffee. Hell, even the coffee was good.
“So since the morgue is a no-go, and all of ‘em are around the same age, why don’t we check the birth records at city hall? Maybe they were born at the same hospital.”
“It’d have to wait ‘til tomorrow,” she added in agreement. He nodded, taking another sip from the coffee.
“I’ll head into the station in a li’l bit, see about getting a copy of the reports they’ve got so far so we can see what hasn’t been asked.” Claire put a large piece of strawberry between her lips and nodded; silent for a little bit of contemplation.
“What’s your gut saying?”
“Demons,” he admitted, frowning. “Either that, or someone’s very particular about using all the parts of the body when they’re makin’ long pig gumbo.” Despite the way her nose wrinkled at the reference, Claire agreed with the hunch. Of course, it could easily be something else. She knew they both currently had demons on the brain.
“I hate big cities,” she said finally, and scraped the side of her mouth with a fingertip to catch a crumb. “Too much to narrow down.” That, and she always felt like she was being watched. Ben hummed in agreement, going a bit more slowly with the second donut so he could enjoy it a little more. He couldn’t help feeling like she’d somehow reached into his brain purposefully and picked something out she knew he would have wanted. The thought left him feeling warm everywhere at once.
“I should go shower,” he said around another mouthful, pulling himself up out of the chair. When he’d been working on his own he often waited until he had to face the world before taking care of things like personal hygiene, but now that Claire was around he couldn’t shake the strong desire to be at his best at all times.
***
“Kevin Hollander, twenty-four; apparently inherited his dad’s gas station when the old man passed of pancreatic cancer two years ago. Runs it with his uncle, his mother is... not in the picture.” Claire glanced again at the small print photocopied at the side of the missing person’s report in her hand, then up to the double-wide she and Ben faced from the street. This was the third place they’d been to that day. Five hours of pretending to be with the MPD, going over details that were already written in the files they had ‘acquired’ the day before. Claire couldn’t help but feel this would be another dead end, and it showed on her face, just below the rims of her aviators; the ones that went surprisingly well with the charcoal fitted blazer and dark trousers under her nice coat.
“Reported missing by his roommate, Jeffery.” She handed Ben the file.
“That’s seriously all they wrote down?” Ben asked, his brows furrowed. Sometimes he seriously doubted the police knew how to investigate a case properly. Claire shook her head lightly, and readjusted her coat against the wind.
“Just that he had gone ‘out’ and never came home.” This was another reason why Claire really detested big cities. People got lost in them, and not just by getting turned around. They could so easily just slip through so many bureaucratic cracks. Who knew how many special cases flew too low to be picked up by even their specialized radar.
“You wanna take the lead, or should I?” he asked her. Claire took a deep breath and let it out through her nose, slowly.
“I got this one.” The two of them got out of the GTO and moved toward the double-wide with purpose, Ben knocking briskly on the door once they stood in front of it. It took a few minutes before a man with deeply tanned skin and green eyes opened the door, one hand lifting to block out the brilliant sunlight.
“Help you?” he asked, his voice touched with a foreign accent. Claire squinted a little behind her dark shades, automatically picking up on the lilt in the man’s speech. She watched him carefully, but put on the faint, business smile.
“Mr. Donovan? Jeffery Donovan?”
“Yes, that is me,” the other man said. His eyes moved between the two of them. Ben smiled politely as well and pulled out his badge.
“Officers Johnson and Young. We’d like to ask you a few questions about Kevin Hollander.”
Jeff’s brows furrowed slightly but he nodded, pulling back into the house. “Please come in.”
The double-wide was dark on the inside, thanks to a light-blocking shade drawn on every window. A small floor lamp was lit in the corner by a single couch and coffee table, the dishes in the sink had to have been there for at least three days, or so Claire deduced by the smell. Underneath that was the distinct smell of stale cigarette smoke and beer.
“We appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Donovan. We’re combing through every bit of information we have to see if we can get a better lead on where Kevin might be.” The standard speech left her lips, practiced and memorized as her eighth grade government test. Claire removed her sunglasses, folded the tines, and stuck them in her pocket. “When did you last see your roommate?”
“Four nights ago,” Jeff answered, moving awkwardly in the space and shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. They were almost too stylish for someone who lived in a manufactured home. “He came home after work to get ready to go out for the night. I told that to the cops who came here the other day.”
“I assume you’re the one who works nights, then.” Claire nodded pointedly to the shades around the room. Jeff laughed lightly.
“Yeah, y’kinda woke me up from a nap, actually. I’m a bouncer at a night club in town.” Claire placed a brief apologetic smile on her lips, nodding as she spoke.
“Sorry about that. We’ll be out of your hair shortly. You mind if my partner takes a quick look in Kevin’s room? We only have a few more questions.”
“Sure, yeah, no problem,” Jeff answered, nodding away. Ben connected eyes with Claire briefly before disappearing down the hall.
“Appreciate it,” Claire looked away from Ben when he turned away from the living room, again facing Jeffery Donovan. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she found the oddly continental first name at a contrast with the man’s subtle accent, but it didn’t raise any alarms. She folded her arms on the manila file and held it against her abdomen, her eyes now set on him rather than their surroundings.
“Had Kevin been acting at all strange or out of the ordinary before he disappeared? Had he met anyone worth mentioning, or gained a sudden interest in something that hadn’t been around before?” Masked questions for picking apart things like possession. Thankfully they sounded a lot like the standard ones asked on an MPR.
“Not really,” Jeff replied, leaning back against the wall. “I mean, his dad’s anniversary was coming up, but other than that Kev was pretty chill. Working that gas station takes a lot out of him.”
“The anniversary of his father’s death?” Claire asked for clarification purposes only.
“Yes ma’am,” Jeff answered with a small nod. She filed that away to be brought up later when she and Ben got back to the hotel, though it didn’t seem like any big piece of the puzzle. Not at the moment anyway.
“Did you have any idea where he was going when he decided to go out?” Some things were going to be repeated--that was standard police procedure, and a damn good one too. Weeded out loose stories, or at least it was intended to. “Which club do you work at?”
“WET on 17th,” Jeff replied. He gave her a little smile. “You should come by one of these nights. I’ll be sure t’let you in without any trouble.” Claire smiled back at him, but as the result of very well practiced reactions.
“Tempting. Was that where Kevin was going? Maybe some of your coworkers saw him.”
Jeff shrugged one shoulder, his smile turning sad. “No idea. Said he was tryin’ some place new, but he didn’t say where. Kinda wish he had, now. I’m sorry I can’t be any more helpful.”
Someplace new. That was something to look into, at least. How many ‘new’ clubs could there be in a city? That is, unless he meant ‘new to him’, which was also a strong possibility. Claire nodded with a presented air of detached sympathy, just like the cops she’d studied relentlessly. Movement caught in the corner of her eye found Ben stepping back into the living room from the hallway. She met his eyes, silently questioning. He nodded slightly and gave her the slightest hint of a smile. Clearly he’d found something useful.
Claire turned back to Jeffery, and offered him a vague smile of compassion and understanding. “You’ve been more than helpful. I think we’ve covered everything,” she offered him her hand as a professional courtesy--though on the very tip of her ring finger was a tiny bead of water, Holy Water, squeezed from the small envelope dabber she kept hidden in her pocket. Claire was careful to keep her shoulders loose and her posture relaxed, despite the tension everywhere else--should he react badly. “We’ll get out of your hair.”
Jeff took her hand easily and with out any outward reactions to the holy water, though his eyes did briefly flick down at her hand and then up at her face again. He offered her a polite smile.
“If I hear anything, I’ll be sure to call the station, Officer.” Claire’s own smile was a little easier.
“We appreciate it. Thanks again.” She withdrew her hand and replaced her shades, slipping out the door and into the cold with Ben. Another dead end, unless whatever he had found panned out.
Ben waited until they were in the GTO before he spoke up. “He was diabetic,” he said. “I found medical documents in a drawer. He’s AB-.” Claire’s brows lifted; she gave him a sidelong look as she started the car.
“That’s like, what--two percent of the population?”
“Or less,” Ben confirmed. “How much y’wanna bet that’s the golden ticket?” She rolled her lips lightly, easing into traffic out from the trailer park.
“Enough to stop by the hospital, I think.”
***
The hotel room was dark except for the glow of the laptop. Claire was snug under her covers but Ben was still working away. He didn’t see the figure appear two feet behind him.
“Ben,” Jesse hissed.
The unexpected voice, added to the sudden sensation of his personal space being invaded, was enough to have Ben visibly jump hard and high in his seat. He made a loud, very un-masculine noise in his surprise.
“Jesus--!”
“Whoa, whoa, easy, it’s me!” Jesse said, holding out his hands. Not that that would necessarily make Ben feel any better, but it was a chance he’d have to take. “Look, I got--”
“Dude, what the fuck!?” Ben interrupted him with a shout that snapped Claire out of her sleep with a gasp and two wide, panicked eyes. He reached at his side for where his gun was normally holstered, but it wasn’t there. He didn’t normally stay armed in his own house at -- he looked quickly at the red light of the alarm clock on the table between his and Claire’s beds -- three in the morning.
“...Jesse?!” Claire tried to swallow her heart and switched her eyes between the two men, demanding and frantic and still in the half-grip of sleep.
“Yes, Jesse, here, hi,” Jesse said, impatience coloring his tone. “Look, I know it’s late, but it’s impor--”
“How the hell did you get in here?!” Ben interrupted, his words clipped and dangerous. “And how the hell did you know we were in Milwaukee?!”
“For fuck’s sake, what part of ‘super powers’ didn’t you understand?” Jesse snapped back. “It doesn’t matter, there’s--” Claire cut him off.
“Are you actually following us?”
“I SAW A VAMPIRE!” Jesse yelled, his eyes a little wild.
Ben’s jaw promptly fell open. Claire stopped breathing for a moment. Together as one, they blurted in unison:
“Where?”
Letting a breath out through his nose, Jesse said, “This downtown club. I can take you there, though it’s probably the only one in this shit town.”
Ben and Claire both immediately started moving; Ben shut the laptop,nearly tripping over himself to get to his bag. Vampires were fierce. He’d only dealt with a few in the length of his hunting career, but in all cases he’d barely gotten away with his head still attached. At least four good-lengthed scars on his body were attributed to those hunts; he was not looking forward to this hunt if it was really vampires like Jesse said.
Claire did her best to avoid aggravating the bandage on her leg as she wiggled into a pair of old jeans, snapping them over the shorts she’d worn to bed. Her shoulder holster went on next, checked and loaded, followed by her jacket.
Jesse watched in silence before glancing at the door, facing another dilemma. “I’m gonna use the toilet. Go ahead and get everything together and in the car, I’ll meet you out there.”
Ben grunted in response, loading everything he could on his body with holsters and packs. If they were planning to track the vampires back to their nest, they would need to be ready. His eyes turned briefly over to Claire.
“I’ll make up some instant coffee,” he said quickly, already moving. Claire was twisting her hair away from her face into a high ponytail when her eyes trained on Ben when he spoke.
“I don’t like this.” She made the obvious known, but went on, trying to push the knot of apprehension back down her throat. She knew time was imperative in this case, but couldn’t help but feel cripplingly unprepared. Maybe it was just being so suddenly yanked from sleep--but she didn’t think so.
“Way too much to guess at.” Like Ben, she didn’t have a lot of experience with vampires. With only two encounters under her belt, and the nicks on her body to prove it, how could she not be anxious? “Plus...what about him?”
“We’ll make it up as we go along,“ he said, trying to sound confident. “Nothing we’re not used to, right?” He grabbed two cups out of the cabinet, filled them with hot water at the tap, then loaded up six spoonfuls per glass and three spoonfuls each of sugar. The smell of the coffee crystals filled the air around them as he brought their glasses out to her.
“Bottom’s up,” he said, giving her cup a click before knocking it back. Claire’s lips pressed and rolled as he swallowed the bitter brew in less than a breath. She took one of her own and closed her eyes. Father, lead us well. On that thought, she joined his toast, taking down every freeze-dried drop.
“Right, here we go,” he said, moving to the door to hold it open for her before turning his head in the direction of the bathroom. “Move it or lose it, Captain Creeper!”
***
As they drove, Jesse leaned forward, his arms leaned on the back of their bench seat. “So they don’t really sparkle, right? I mean the teeth are different. Unless there’s something else that drinks people’s blood?” For the first time, he was a bit uncertain about what he saw. He’d rushed over so quickly, he hadn’t really had time to think about it.
“Oh, there’s plenty’a stuff that drinks people’s blood,” Ben said, working his jaw. “But to answer your question, yes: they don’t really sparkle.” Claire stayed relatively quiet. She was testing the spring hinge on a serrated butterfly knife that’d been specially made.
Jesse couldn’t stop looking between them, his addrenaline pumping. “So how do you kill them? The old stake, or you have to tear them apart and burn the pieces?”
“Cut their heads off.” Claire said flatly, looking out the window. The crowds of the entertainment district weren’t calming her nerves. She flipped the blade closed and tucked it into the hidden piece of elastic in her shirt sleeve.
His breath stopping a moment, Jesse let it out slow. It was nearly ten whole seconds before he said, “So, you got an extra machete or something for me?”
“This isn’t amateur hour,” Ben replied, looking over his shoulder at the man. “We’re thankful for the tip, but vampires aren’t a good critter to cut your teeth on.”
“Besides, we can’t just charge in,” Claire added with a look at Jesse, meeting his eyes. Hopefully she could convey a decent amount of the spine-welding tension that both she and Ben were under, thanks to this situation. “Goin’ in blind usually means you don’t come out.”
Jesse deflated some but bit back any argument. “So what are we going to do?”
“Stake-out and stalk-back,” Ben answered, relaxing slightly at the lack of raised voices. He was still tired. This was going to suck.
Claire glanced back out the passenger side window, gauging their position. Depending on the layout of the block and the building, the next hour or so would be routine. Checking exits, alarm systems, and signature signs. “So what exactly did you see...” She looked back at Jesse, and draped an arm over the back of the seat. “You see them feed or something?”
“Not quite. Think he was about to, though. They got these privacy booths, whole line of them with. Got one-way mirrors and everything, kinky shit like that. Anyway, this sheila was dragging me into one, only it wasn’t empty. This bloke was leaning into a girl, and it would’ve been normal, except he had these teeth.” He held his hands up, crooked into claws, and laced the fingers together. “Like shark teeth or piranha or something. But it was only a second and then was normal and pissed, so I booked it.”
Ben looked over his shoulder at him again, brows arched. “And they just let you leave?”
Jesse looked sheepish. “Well I didn’t yell ‘vampire!’ or something. Played it like I didn’t see it and was too drunk to care, y’know?” Plus he’d gone straight to the bathroom to disappear, but he wasn’t sure these two were ready for that kind of detail about him. Not after how they reacted to the wallet trick.
Ben humphed in response, resettling in the seat. One hand came up to rub his eyes tiredly. The coffee he’d guzzled down was making his knees bounce, but he couldn’t deny still feeling tired.
“Remind me to pick up some Red Bull at the store tomorrow,” he muttered to Claire.
“I could get some now?” Jesse perked up. Staking-out wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind and he was still a bit wired. “Bound to be an all-night place around.” Claire looked at Jesse, then over to Ben. It wasn’t a terrible idea.
“Gotta be a 7-11 around here,” she suggested lightly. She’d had a little bit of sleep at least., but Ben’s heavy eyes didn’t exactly fill her with hope.
***
Obviously going in through the front door was out of the question. They would be spotted instantly, and who knew of the bouncers were vampires or not. He knew how they tracked; if a vampire caught a scent, they hunted that person no matter where they went. It put him on edge in a way that most no other monsters did. It was why he normally left the vampires to the “specialists.”
So they’d gone snooping around the back, as carefully as possible. The club was its own distraction thankfully, and not too many people looked around the sides of the building. There was a door, but it was locked. Ben, of course, had picks, and dropped down into a crouch to work the locks open. Claire kept watch a few feet away.
“Kind of high profile, don’t you think?” She spoke quietly, her eyes darting up the south corner of the building along the iron skeleton of the fire escape, and into the shadows there. Anywhere someone could stand, or crouch. There were so many places. “Either they’re too bold for their own good, or--” The alternative chilled Claire’s blood a bit. She pushed an anxious sigh through her nose. “--or it’s a big nest.”
“But why are there so few mispers, then?” Ben asked, his voice a little stilted from concentrating. She looked at him over her shoulder. The hesitation in her voice and posture betrayed Claire’s contained nervousness.
“Heavy recruiting.”
“That would still mean more mispers,” Ben said, but there was doubt in his voice. What if they’d been converted, but simply released into the masses? It was a frightening thought. “I think I’ve almost got it...”
The metal tumbler under Ben’s pick released with a hollow click, but not thanks to any effort of his. It pulled open hard, too fast for any casual employee heading out for a smoke. The next instant, the tip of a polished alligator skin boot slammed into Ben’s shoulder, knocking him flat onto his back with an explosive exhale of air. It was followed by a black velvet voice, heavy with a slow, gentlemanly southern Drawl.
“Congratulations, son. You got it good.”
Time seemed to slow down as realization hit him. Had Jesse set them up? Whether he was innocent or not, they’d clearly been watched from somewhere inside the club. Before Ben even got a chance to respond, the vampire slammed a fist into his jaw so hard he saw stars, then everything went black.
As Ben went down, the vampire looked past him to Claire, his smile feral.
“Well aren’t you cute.”
Claire’s jaw set as stone, and her heart slammed against the inside of her ribs like a humming bird on fire. Every muscle in her body had gone rigid with the sound Ben made before his body went limp, and now resounded with a baseline of panic. Going for the knife in her jacket was automatic, but useless when her eyes darted to the two wild-eyed vampires that filed out behind the Southern one. The sound of cold laughter came from the shadows behind her. Claire was barely breathing.
They knew we were here...
“Not interested, Jethro,” she shot back tightly, with quick glances at the others behind her. This wasn’t going to end well. The Southern vampire chuckled and made a brief gesture with one hand. All of the vampires started moving in closer. The two closest to the door lifted Ben as though he were made of air, then started toward a van parked not that far away.
Claire hadn’t been so close to panic since the first time she encountered a demon on her own, but that fact suddenly didn’t matter when they plucked Ben up from the ground and started filing away. Calculations of how close and how many filtered through her prey animal instincts, but the nasty edge in her eyes was a hint of pure human hatred. She connected that hard line of eye contact with the Southerner’s ice blue gaze, then broke her rigid defensive stance with a wide back-handed arc - complete with weapon - at the two creatures behind her.
Claire managed to put a few decent-sized slices into them, but she was no match for three against one. The Southern vampire decided to join the fray once Ben was out of sight, and in too little time she was pinned and her knife knocked away. Rather than knock her out the same way Ben had been however, a potent smelling cloth was shoved up against her mouth and nose. Claire knew the smell of chloroform right before the chemicals swallowed her sinuses, and darkness claimed her.