Origins (A Demonkin Novel) (19 page)

I almost said something stupid like, "What?" The garish headline read,
Vampires Beware!
That and a picture of me escorting the vampire Matt through the crowds at Navy Pier said it all. "Oh crap," I said aloud. I quickly read through the meat of the article, and the further I made my way through the nonsense, the angrier I became. I had been expecting an article on myself taking into custody a vampire for questioning, but instead perused an article about how the FBI had leveled the playing field by hiring one of the scourges of mankind. They even labeled me as the "Verminator". I wasn't sure if it might have been a cute reference for being a vampire terminator or that Jezwyrski had a death wish strong enough to call vampires vermin. Either way, his life might be even in more danger than my own. Serves him right too.

It was official; absolutely no good came of last night's operation. I couldn't do anything right, and I am doubly stupid for trusting a reporter. I am a fucking
moron
for trusting the vampire. I did the only thing I could. I wadded up the newspaper into a tiny little ball (woo-hoo vampire strength) and tossed it back to Reese. He caught it with a surprised look on his face and I stood up.

"Where do you think you're going?" Reese looked stunned.

"I'm gonna go kills me a reporter. You want a leg or a thigh?"

"Sit down. The damage is already done, and I'm glad you see the problem with the article. You and I are at least of a like mind. I can't believe the reporter wrote it, or the paper printed it. I hope he has a bodyguard; he's going to need it. You on the other hand, do not have a body guard. The odds of any vampire in the city cooperating with you before had been slim to none. Now it's just going to be an outright fucking miracle if they don't attack you outright."

All I wanted to do was put my head in my hands and cry. I would never trust a reporter again. I sighed and looked back up at Reese. He stared off into space with his chin resting on his fingers. I would have paid a good portion of one of my paychecks to know what thoughts played across his brain.

"What?"

"Just thinking about having the paper print a retraction, but I don't even think it would do any good. The paper is already out and been read. What's the point? Plus, asking for a retraction would piss off the Deputy Director. I phoned him and sent him an electronic copy of the paper and believe it or not, he's friggin ecstatic about the article. I'm just glad I didn't open my mouth and say what I thought about it. We'll just have to get through this. It's not like you're going to be assigned here permanently."

"I know. I just don't want to have to watch my back all the time. Did you say something about a new partner on the phone? It's not necessary. Michaels should be up and running in a few days. I can take care of myself."

The look he gave me silenced me almost before I finished. Apparently even though I had learned from my mistakes, I had still screwed up enough to warrant a babysitter.
Shit
. At least it would be for only a few days. I would get by just fine, right?

Reese picked up the phone and pressed the intercom button and dialed an extension. I heard the phone ring three times and then a voice replied with a "Yes, Agent Reese?"

"Thompson, come in here please. She's ready."

Reese put the receiver down and I sat in my chair and pouted. Yes, I pouted. I didn't stick out my bottom lip or anything, but I wasn't going to be happy. I heard footsteps come through the door behind me and I didn't even turn around to see my babysitter. I couldn't. The rules of etiquette concerning pouting forbade it.

"Ashlyn, this is Special Agent James Thompson who will be your new partner until Michaels makes a full recovery. Go find your vampire from the pier and bring him in this time. You might have only been using him as bait, but he still hospitalized an agent of the FBI. Now I'm going to fry his ass. Go, the both of you, and Thomson, you had better keep her out of trouble."

"Yes Sir! Come on, newbie, let's go find the vampire," he said. His voice shocked the hell out of me. He sounded like James Earl Jones with a chest cold. I stood and turned to meet my new partner and had to look up a couple of feet to see him. Jesus, he looked like the bouncer from Fangloria's only bigger and darker, and he smelled like sage to boot. He definitely wasn't human, and he made my mouth water. I knew better than to lock myself into a vehicle with him. He smelled too good. I hadn't eaten since Navy Pier two nights ago and I didn't exactly trust myself to be alone with the giant snack cake.

I stared at him for a moment to get the hunger under control. He didn't have an ounce of hair on his head, but I could see stubble, so I knew it to be preference over genetics. His massive head ended at his shoulders without so much as a hint of neck. No neck made for a difficult meal, oh well. I gazed down at his massive chest, waist, and everything. Finding suits in his size must be a stone cold bitch.

"Newbie?"

"Yes. New Agent. Newbie," he rumbled back at me.

I looked over at Reese and he sat there smiling with a contented look on his face. I stuck my tongue out at him and heard his bark of laughter as Thompson and I left the offices and made our way to the Suburban. I still had the keys in my pocket and I reached in and hit the button on the fob to unlock the vehicle. Two identical Suburbans flashed their yellow hazard lights and honked twice to signal their locations.

"Lock it, we'll take mine," he said from next to me.

"Great," I lied.

We entered the vehicle and neither he nor I buckled our seat belts, tsk, tsk. He backed out of the spot and put the SUV into drive. "Where did you last see your vampire," he asked before stepping on the accelerator. I thought about it for a moment. Surely Matt wouldn't be stupid enough to go back to work, right?

"The Carnival at Navy Pier," I told him.

"I know the place," he replied and stepped on the gas, pulling out of the parking garage and into the Chicago traffic.

"What happened tonight? I've never seen so many people working this late," I asked, remembering the multitude of agents back at the office at such a late hour.

"Somebody called the mayor's office and told them they had planted a bomb. Turned out to be nothing, but we leant a hand to the Chicago PD to sweep the building. Oh, and curiosity," he said and smiled.

"Curiosity?"

"Everyone wanted to meet the
Verminator
."

"Fucking reporters," I said and a deep rumble started in Thompson's chest as he laughed at my predicament. I didn't think it possible, but I liked him even less.

We made our way down the pier and made our way into the Carnival. A vampire stood behind the bar, but it wasn't Matt. Big shock, I won. We made our way past the hostess from last night and she didn't even bat an eyelash as we walked toward the bar. She must have remembered me.

"Is he your vampire?" Thompson had spoken out of the side of his mouth, but I managed to make out what he was saying.

"No, it isn't," I said struggled to leave off the "Duh!"

"Excuse me, sir," Thompson said to the vampire behind the bar. "We're looking for Matt the bartender, do you know where I might find him. I'd like to ask him a few questions."

"No, I don't. He didn't show up for work today. Piece of
merde,
" the vampire replied in a French or Cajun accent so thick I could barely make out the words. Lou gave the impression of a fake accent, the vampire behind the bar left no such impression. I stared at the vampire while Thompson asked his name. Jean Phillipe Margeaux the owner of the Carnival, and apparently part time bartender stood before us. The features of his face made him handsome, I admitted begrudgingly. I say begrudgingly because he looked like a car salesman. I don't mean literally. He wasn't wearing a suit or trying to hand me a free balloon; I meant he looked greasy. He tied his long brown hair up in a pony tail, and his goatee looked like it hadn't been trimmed in a while, but the biggest reason he looked greasy lay behind his eyes. When you looked at his eyes you could see something unclean.

I tested the air and caught his scent. He must have spilled some bourbon on himself sometime this evening because he couldn't drink it, but I could smell it. I smelled deeper and found it underneath the bourbon. I closed my eyes and rolled the smell around on my tongue. I tried not to gag because I couldn't even stand the smell of anise, tasting it threatened to empty my stomach. There wasn't any lemon or vanilla so he wasn't a cop killer, but just because he didn't kill the cop in the river didn't make him a nice guy. For all I knew, he could have killed Matt. For all I knew he could have
made
Matt and then killed him.

I followed Thompsons lines of questioning through, "When did you last see Matt," to "Do you have any idea how we could get a hold of him," and I listened to Jean Phillipe's bullshit answers. He wasn't hiding anything; he just lied to our face. I wanted to pull him over the bar and slap the shit out of him. I think I even stepped forward when Thompson put out a hand to hold me back. The little maneuver wasn't wasted on the vampire behind the bar either. He actually sneered at me. I had heard the expression before and yet had to experience the pure stupidity of the gesture. I could see the contempt plain as night right there in his crooked little mouth and squinty eyes.

I wanted to kill him and drink his fricking blood, and I could see myself doing it. I did give him the finger and watch his face turn from contempt to amusement. He had gotten to me, and he knew it, and it made him happy.

"What is the matter, little Verminator, don't you believe me?"

"Just a little nauseous from the rat infestation this place suffers from, Mr. Margeaux. Please excuse my obvious distaste," I shot back. Wow, I didn't even know I could be so pleasant to such an asshole.

"Thank you for your time Mr. Margeaux" Thompson said and pushed me towards the door. Herding me didn't help my mood. I swallowed the urge to push him back and led the way myself. If things escalated between Thompson and me, I wanted to do it where I could land some serious punches.

As soon as we exited, I spun on Thompson. "That son of a mother fucking vampire is a lying piece of shit!"

“Tell me something I don't know, kid. C'mon, let's go find the missing vampire."

"Where are we going to look? This is a big city and we have no idea where to even begin looking."

"We'll start with the bars and clubs. Go grab a newspaper and meet me at the car" he ordered me. I don't like orders.

"What do we need a newspaper for? Are you going to brush up on your reading skills?" I obviously pissed him off because he stopped walking and spun around to face me.

"Listen you little shit with fangs. Obviously you don't like me, even though I have done nothing to piss you off. You have been rude and obnoxious and I'm getting a little sick of it. You're lucky I don't drive you back to the office and dump you on your ass in Reese's office. Think about why I would ask you to get a newspaper for a moment. What's on the front cover, hmm? The answer is a picture of the vampire we're looking for. So how are we going to play this? Are you going to start acting like an agent of the FBI, or are we going to go back to the office so you can pout until your partner is back to full health?"

I wanted to punch him square in his massive jaw, but I settled for listening to what he said. I felt a little contrite and I gave him a small, "Sorry.” I hated to admit it, but he wasn't wrong. If I had been expecting a smile from him, I was going to be sorely disappointed. He nodded at me and started back toward the car. I found some newspaper vending machines across the street from Navy Pier in the park and dropped in a couple of quarters. I opened the door and found my smiling face on the front page, pulled out the evening edition and made my way back to the parking garage where all my trouble started.

I found Thompson in the vehicle with the engine running and on the cell phone. It seemed kind of a one way conversation with a bunch of, "Yes, sirs," on Thompson's part.
He must have been talking to Reese
. He hung up and gave me a quick, "Let's go.”

"Where are we headed?"

"Local PD found your vampire."

"Where"?

"In a dumpster, most of him anyway," he said without batting an eyelash.

* * *

We waited for the crime scene investigator to come out of the dumpster before we could look at the body. The dumpster sat behind a takeout Chinese restaurant. Why do criminals always pick the dumpsters behind Chinese restaurants? They'll
never
find it if it's covered in Lo Mein! When I said body, I meant a body with no head. Whoever murdered Matt sent that in a box to the closest precinct. Nice way to deliver a message, yuck.

Finally the investigator gave the go ahead for two technicians to pull the body out. Even headless, Matt's body was still longer than average and I saw the technicians straining under the load. They laid the body out on the wet ground of the alley while they prepared to bag it to send to the city morgue. I hated to do it, but I had to smell the body. I stepped closer and took a good look. The skin of the neck wasn't cut by anything. If anything, it looked like it had been twisted and ripped. Somebody had literally ripped the poor bastard's head off. What a way to go. I quit stalling and knelt down by Matt.

The Chinese food overwhelmed any other scents at first. My aunt had ordered Chinese quite regularly and I had always found the smell quite enticing. I probably wouldn't ever think so again. Combine the smell of chicken parts, soy sauce, and dead vampire and you get something akin to "Ick". I closed my eyes and concentrated on the smells. One by one I eliminated them. Once I picked the sauces out the rest fell into place. I killed the sour smell of the raw chicken and then the rice and then could smell it, lemon and vanilla. Mr. Cop Killer.

"Thompson," I called over my shoulder.

"What?" He interrupted his conversation with the investigator.

"Come here please," I asked him nicely. I turned my head as he squatted down by the body and added his sage to the lemon and vanilla I tried to concentrate on. "Whoever killed Matt killed the cop they fished out of the lake a few nights ago."