The Vampire Hunters (Book 2): Vampyrnomicon (34 page)

*     *     *

Checking her notepad,
Jessica reviewed the questions she had prepared for the interview. Despite the commotion of the Cafe Renee coffee shop on Union Station’s mezzanine level, she maintained her focus. She did not want to screw up this opportunity. Much to her surprise, Rodriguez had returned her phone request for an interview. Even more surprising, rather than responding with “no comment” or trying to placate her with a canned statement, he agreed to meet with her for a late afternoon coffee.

As Jessica jotted notes beside her questions, she heard a voice behind her. “Miss Reynolds?”

Jessica turned around, immediately recognizing Rodriguez. Instead of being dressed in his uniform, he wore street clothes. Not surprising, though, since he probably had Saturdays off. She extended her hand. “Please, call me Jessica.”

“I will.” Rodriguez shook her hand. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“My pleasure, believe me. I’m glad you agreed to talk with me about the Fletcher case.”

“Yeah, about that.” Rodriguez sat on the stool opposite Jessica. “Sorry to have lied to you, but I’m not here to talk about the Fletcher case.”

Jessica became defensive. “Why?”

“Well, to start, I’m no longer on the Fletcher case. I’m not even on the force anymore.”

“You were fired?”

“Suspended.” Rodriguez frowned. “They don’t know it yet, but I won’t be going back.”

“Why’s that?” asked Jessica, sensing a story.

“Why was I suspended, or why am I not going back?”

“Both.”

Rodriguez chuckled. “Let’s just say I’ve seen some unusual shit these past few weeks. Shit that Roach and the others refuse to admit exists, and that I can’t deal with alone.”

“Vampires.” Jessica said it in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Yeah.”

What a sad state of affairs, thought Jessica, when two people could talk about the existence of the undead with no more a sense of embarrassment than if they were discussing a case of herpes. She still had one question.

“If you’re no longer connected to the Fletcher case, why did you agree to meet me?”

“You’re friends with Drake Matthews. I want you to arrange a meeting.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” said Jessica. “What did you want to see him about?”

A slight pause, as if Rodriguez seemed uncertain how he should answer. Finally, he said, “I want to help him hunt vampires.”

*     *     *

Finding a new
location to pursue the undead had proven harder than anticipated, but not for the obvious reasons. The criterion for finding a new hunting ground was simple. They needed to find a location that contained minimum pedestrian traffic and little population so the vampires could prowl and feed unnoticed. They also needed to find a location where anyone who fell victim would not be missed or, more cynically, would not be important enough for the authorities to investigate their disappearance. In essence, Drake was looking for an economically-depressed crime-prone section of the city. He had several neighborhoods to choose from. Drake picked the waterfront along the Anacostia River near where the city had been building the new baseball stadium for the Washington Nationals. He drove the SUV, with Alison up front riding shotgun and Jim in the back wearing the infra-red goggles, scanning the area for the undead.

They approached the area via Route 295, exiting at the ramp leading to the Frederick Douglass Memorial Bridge. As the SUV reached the top of the span, the riverfront came into view. The stadium towered over the area. Floodlights dotted the structure. The surrounding area presented a stark contrast to the lights and frenetic energy around the stadium. Block upon block of run-down structures, most darkened and abandoned, others that should have been. Acres of buildings that once testified to the prosperity of the area had long since been turned over to the city, which threw up chain-link fences and gave them over to the city’s utility services. Between it all lay a no-man’s land inhabited by the desperate and the dangerous. The perfect preying ground for vampires.

The bridge sloped down and merged with South Capitol Street. Drake took the first right, turning onto N street.

“Heads up, Jim,” said Drake. “It’s show time.”

“Does this place look as bad in real life as it does through these goggles?” asked Jim.

“Worse,” answered Alison. “This place looks like Baghdad after shock and awe.”

“Which is why this would be an ideal location to feed. So keep your eyes open.”

The SUV’s right front tire banged into a deep pothole, rocking the vehicle. Alison put her hand out to stop from slamming her head against the side window. When the rear wheel banged through the pothole, Alison felt the jolt along her spine.

Drake stopped the SUV at the corner of N and Half Streets. “See anything?”

“Hang on,” said Jim.

As Jim scanned the area with the goggles, Alison looked around. She did not feel very comfortable with what she saw. City facilities set off by chain-link fences. Dark, rutted roads. A single building—a three-story brick structure with half a sign attached to the facade indicating the building used to be a privately-owned convenience store. Or rather,
is
currently a privately-owned convenience store. Despite years of grime on the exterior walls and mounds of garbage piled up around the building, a light inside showed a lone figure rummaging around and stocking shelves. Working alone in this neighborhood at two in the morning took a level of guts Alison admired.

“Jim?” prodded Drake.

“Just a minute.” Jim finished scanning the area. “Nothing but the shopkeeper in that building and somebody in a shed down the road to our right.”

“That’s the guard shack for the Water and Sewer Authority.” Drake leaned forward onto the steering wheel and looked to the right down Half Street. “Nothing down there but the riverfront.”

“Then we go left,” said Alison.

Drake turned the steering wheel and accelerated. For the next fifteen minutes they maneuvered through the area north of the stadium construction site, but found nothing. Cutting across South Capitol Street, Drake began cruising up and down the streets north of Buzzard Point where many old apartment buildings stood. He paused at every street corner, giving Jim time to scan the surrounding area. If they found nothing, they would move along to the next intersection and repeat the process. At each intersection they found the same thing. Empty streets. Abandoned buildings. The occasional pedestrian or vagrant. But no vampires. After nearly an hour and a half of cruising the riverfront, they emerged back out onto South Capitol Street directly across from the stadium.

“Shit,” Drake huffed. “That was a waste of two hours.”

Alison empathized. “We knew this was a hit or miss proposition when we started it.”

“I know.” The frustration remained in Drake’s voice. “But if we don’t pick up their trail, we risk undoing everything we’ve accomplished since destroying the nest at Wolf Trap.”

Alison placed her hand on Drake’s forearm and squeezed gently. “There’s nothing we can do about it.”

“I don’t want this war to go on forever.”

He placed his hand over Alison’s and squeezed back. She felt a thrill at his touch. If only he had clasped her hand under different circumstances.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s give the area another sweep, then we can head home.”

“Might as well.” Initiating a three-point turn, Drake turned the SUV around and backtracked the way they had just come.

*     *     *

Toni crouched inside
the first-floor apartment of the abandoned tenement building, partially hidden by the kitchen counter, watching the midnight-black SUV through the shattered glass of the patio door. She had noticed the vehicle when it first entered the neighborhood because it looked out of place amongst the area’s structural refuse. She did not know who it belonged to. The police. Gang members. Or worse, the hunters. In any case, its presence boded ill, especially tonight. Prudence dictated she take cover until the danger passed, so she went to the nearest empty apartment, punched in the glass door, and hid behind the counter.

Several minutes later, the SUV cruised by. Toni snarled. As she expected, it was the hunters. She could see Drake behind the steering wheel. The child sat in back with night-vision goggles on his head. The bitch sat in the front passenger’s seat. Toni contemplated an attack. If she lunged now, she could be out of the building and on the SUV in seconds. It would be simple enough to punch in the passenger’s window and rip out the bitch’s throat. With luck, Toni could be gone before the other hunters even knew what hit them. However satisfying as that would be, it would infuriate Chiang Shih, who had ordered that the hunters were to remain untouched until she said otherwise. After what happened to Melinda the other night, Toni did not want to incur Chiang Shih’s wrath. Vengeance could wait. There would be time enough later to make the bitch pay.

Besides, the squirming bundle tucked under her coat reminded her of the task at hand.

Toni held the bundle against her chest and made her way to the shattered glass door. Inching to the patio, she peered around the corner of the building. The SUV stopped two blocks down the street. It sat there for several seconds while the child scanned the area with his goggles. Drake moved on, turning left down a side street.

With the SUV out of sight, Toni took advantage of the opportunity. She raced down the street in the opposite direction. After covering three blocks, she turned right in front of an eight-story abandoned apartment building, crossed the street, and jumped. Gliding through the air, she landed on a third-floor balcony and dropped into a crouch. The bundle squirmed. Toni ignored it. Instead, she surveyed the area to make sure no one saw her, especially the hunters. Satisfied at not having been observed, Toni slid aside the boarded-up balcony door and entered the building.

The room, like the rest of the building, stank of urine, shit, and body odor. The one-hundred-plus unit apartment building, which had been constructed when the riverfront had been the vibrant part of the city, had long since become an abandoned hulk. For years, the homeless and drug addicts lived here as squatters, treating the building with the same disdain that they treated their own lives. Crime, vandalism, and disorderliness soon followed until the locals complained loud enough for the city to clean out the building, throwing everyone onto the street and sealing off every first- and second-story entrance. Such security made this building ideal for Toni to start her coven. With no one able to enter, there was minimal chance of someone inadvertently stumbling across them. The difficult access had the added benefit of deterring the coven from venturing outside in search of food. Another plus to this location was its size. Eight stories high, with twelve apartments per floor, it provided more than enough space for the coven to live without them falling over one another and without being discovered by outsiders. Most important, the space provided ample opportunities to ambush the hunters if they ever stumbled onto it. She already had prepared several surprises for them on the lower floors.

Making her way up to the sixth floor via the darkened stairwell, Toni pushed open the door leading to the main corridor and strode down to apartment 608. Stepping inside, she crossed the apartment to the spare bedroom. Two vampires crouched in the corner—a female teenage runaway who made the mistake of asking Toni for a handout, and a punk who tried to rob her at gunpoint. They smelled the meat she brought them and scurried across the floor toward her. Toni growled, forcing them to back down and rush back to their corner. Discipline must be maintained.