The Vampire's Curse (16 page)

ELEVEN

Mike stared at the yellow metal box connected to one of the collars found on the ferals. It was safely tucked inside a plastic bag, already dusted for prints—they were Charles Claytons—and any other clues that could be taken from them—there were none—and so he was free to turn it about and look while he mentally searched for all the holes. Any hint that he might have missed.

So far, there was nothing. Not on this collar, nor on any of the others that had been picked up.

He sighed. So much nothing.

"Parts are too common, no way of tracking it. It doesn't tell us anything we don't already know about Dr. Clayton except he's now taking his little obsession with semi-humans a bit too far …" He trailed off and put the bag on his desk that was littered with paperwork, pencils, pens, his phone, organizer, and an array of other things that couldn't help him find out more of what he needed to know.

A knock at his door brought him back to his office, and he looked up as Miller came in. The man’s face was grim.

Mike tensed in his chair. "What is it?"

Miller scratched the back of his shaved head. "We still can't find anything on where Clayton might be, or where he's finding so many feral vamps to put collars on."

"He's not."

Miller blinked. "What?"

Mike brought up the file on his computer that he'd been looking at and turned the monitor around. "Look familiar?"

Miller stepped forward and leaned in to get a good look at the face. Then he read some of the description next to the picture. "Vampires don't normally end up as a missing person’s file," he said.

"No, they're a little too tough ‘round the edges to just grab off the street. You have to be real crafty to be able to trick a vamp into trusting you enough to get close enough to kill ‘em, or kidnap ‘em."

Miller put it together. "This is one of the ferals?"

Mike turned his monitor around. "Dustin Frank, one of our recent deceased from last night's attack on Patty's Potions. You wouldn't be able to tell that now considerin’ his face is charred blacker than coal. And this picture was, as you can see, taken before he turned into a mindless, bloodthirsty animal."

Mike clacked on his keyboard and clicked his mouse a few times and brought up more files. Miller walked around his desk to look so he didn't have to spin the monitor again. "Anna Delores, recently reported missing and recently found dead, Jason Briggs, Mark Dalton, all were vampires who had the money and capabilities to buy their own blood, and were certainly healthy enough to go hunting for it themselves if they ran into a little financial trouble. All lived either in the city or around it. Their records range from squeaky clean to unpaid parking tickets. And now we find them crazed and dead."

Miller had one arm folded and held the other up to scratch his chin. "You're saying Clayton is kidnapping vampires and starving them until they're feral?"

"Bingo. That's exactly what I'm saying."

"When did they go missing?"

Mike leaned forward, proud that his younger partner was so fast to pick things up. "I already thought of that. They all went missin’ at different times, far enough apart to not cause much suspicion, the longest being nearly a year, except for Anna Delores. Either way it’s all more than enough time to starve a vamp."

"Clayton would need help for that. To catch a vamp instead of outright killing one would be tough job."

"Not to mention storing them before and after they turned, which means Charles Clayton has someone, or several someones, working for him."

Miller thought about it for a few seconds. "You think that same someone convinced him his daughter needed to die?"

Mike shrugged, and then stood to put on his coat. "Could be. I personally don't see the need to kill your daughter because she refuses to see things your way, but it doesn't mean that someone else out there wouldn't see it like that."

Miller followed him. "That's sick."

"Doesn't stop it from happenin’ though."

"Where are you going?"

Mike opened the door. "I'm going to give Jackie a ride home. Looks like Pat’s mad at her for turning in her sister."

Miller hesitated. "She already left."

Mike didn't move another step. She left without saying goodbye to him? "Who'd she go with?" He asked. She wouldn’t have gone off alone, not when it was this dangerous out there for her.

"McKane, the cursed vamp. He called for a cab and left with her. You sure it's a good idea to let him watch her like he does?"

Mike calmly shut the door and removed his jacket with a little more frustration. Trying to squash down the hurt while telling himself it was only a shared cab. Miller asked the question to try and take away from what was said before it.

Of course he'd thought it was a good idea. He'd checked out McKane's background and the man was damned good at what he did up until that little slip that put him where he was now. But it was slowly becoming apparent that it wasn't such a wise decision. "I would've taken them home."

Nothing to do now but get back to work and run around in more circles.

Miller only approached him when he was seated at his desk. "Listen, I know you like her and all, but don't you think it's time you took the hint?"

Mike sat at his desk and pulled out more papers, refusing to look at him. "If you and I weren't friends I'd be insulted that you think you can stick your nose where it don't belong."

Miller didn't speak for some seconds. "Sorry sir, just trying to help."

"You can help me by contacting the rest of the families who need to be told that their sons and daughters have been found dead."

Mike looked up at Miller. He looked like he wanted to protest but closed his mouth. "Yes sir," he said before ducking out of the room.

Mike sighed when he was gone and leaned back in his chair.

Jackie had been seeing a lot of that guy lately, and he did claim to run to her rescue out of nothing more than a feeling.

Mike put his elbows on his desk and rubbed his face. Even if they were matched it wouldn't matter. The whole soul mate thing was overrated anyway. Siblings could be soul mates without ever experiencing any romantic feelings for each other. He just needed to up his game a little.

The cell he put in his jacket pocket rang, he grabbed it and flipped it open. "Carter."

He listened to the voice on the other side for a few seconds before closing it, grabbing his jacket again, and barreling out the door.

“Miller! Get back here! We’re heading out!”

***

"Thanks for the lift, next time I'll pay." Jackie said as they exited Kyle’s truck, referring to the cab fare he paid to get to the motel to begin with so they could grab his things.

The Haven Motel was a two story, brown brick building with red doors and thick yellow curtains. It was also the cheapest and most out-of-the-way place to stay in the city. Kyle had no choice but to stay in places like that since his savings couldn’t handle the strain of hotels. He was halfway ashamed of letting Jackie see the place.

Kyle swung a light duffle over his shoulder as they went up to Jackie’s apartment building where he would now be staying, because of the whole bodyguard thing.

"You sure you want to do this?" Kyle asked. To say he'd been shocked when Jackie offered him her couch for as long as he needed was an understatement. Just being near her was enough to make his mouth water and his senses tingle, and that was when he was back to being a normal human.

He knew she felt it too, and for a few minutes he pondered over why she would want to put them in such close proximity of each other until she explained it herself:
“
Please stay. You’re going to be around a lot anyway. And I’m scared
.”

He wasn’t going to say no to that.

That, and after a few more weeks of spending his money on motels and take-out he would be broke and out on the street. Keeping away from that situation was the bonus in this set up.

She didn't look at him as she shoved the key into the door, waving her other hand as though it were nothing, which to her it probably was.

"You're going to be hanging out here a lot anyway if you're my new bodyguard. You might as well stay here and save your money."

How strange it is to be grateful and regretful at the same time, he mused. On the one hand he was finally getting out of that little hovel, and he would be near her and know that she was safe. But on the other, he would also be fighting off the temptation to turn their kisses into something more than it really was.

They would be close to each other, sharing a bathroom, kitchen space. If they wanted to watch TV it would be sitting next to each other. He could barely keep his hands to himself as it was. Kyle wasn’t going to last with this arrangement.

After opening the door, Jackie’s hips swung seductively as she jogged up the stairs to her apartment. Oh, yeah, the good totally outweighed the bad.

"I'll try not to impose too much. Thank you." Kyle said, clearing his throat.

When they got to her door she looked over her shoulder in the midst of unlocking it and sent him a wink that went straight to his groin. "No problem."

Jesus. Was she doing that on purpose?

Then he saw the pink in her cheeks. Embarrassment. Abruptly, she looked away and let them into her apartment, and he grinned proudly. Even with his normal hearing he picked up the tiny groan she let out.

Not normal behavior for her then. The idea that she only did things like that for him was uplifting.

The apartment was familiar enough to him since he’d been in it more than once already. He dropped his bag on the couch, unzipped the duffle, and started looking for something clean for tomorrow.

"We'll go to the store tomorrow and pick up one of those plastic dressers. Something so you don’t have to live out of a bag."

He blinked and faced her, trying to imagine such a tacky looking thing where it didn’t belong. "I don't think that'll go with your living room."

She shrugged and sat in what was now his bed. He moved the duffle and sat next to her.

"As you can see," She gestured to the stale room around her. "I'm not much of a decorator anyway, so we might as well get you something you can put your things in. And I'll pay for it."

He immediately disagreed. "No. If I'm going to use it then I'll pay for it."

She leaned back and crossed her foot over her knee. "It'll make up for the cab fare I owe, and if I pay for it then I won't feel so guilty about you driving me around in your truck."

He had nothing to argue back with, and knowing she would only pester him until he gave in, or even purchase it behind his back, he relented. "Alright, sounds fair."

Whatever. It still irked him.

She nodded, a winning grin lifting her mouth, and he could feel her satisfaction radiating from her. Then it began to fade.

"What is it?" He asked.

She looked at him. "Listen, I'm sorry about what Carly did—"

He didn't want to hear this. "Don’t … don't even worry about it. I'm not up for talking about her."

He started going through his bag again, searching for his razor in the hopes that his actions would tell her their conversation was over.

Trouble was that she wasn't finished. "Because you loved her?"

He winced. He should’ve seen this conversation coming, but he didn’t want to have it with her.

Why did women insist on ripping open old wounds? "Yeah, I guess at one time I did. And because I was stupid enough to do that I lost nearly everything."

And he wouldn't be stupid again. That kiss at the station was nothing more than his need to be normal, to get some release from his situation.

Though he had to admit he did take it a bit far when he pulled her to him and kissed her again. Now there was the question of whether or not she knew he made no plans of being with her. It changed things between them, he was able to admit that to her then, but that change didn’t have to be so emotionally deep to either of them.

She hesitated, and he could all but see the gears turning in her head as she contemplated whether or not to keep going.

His jaw clenched. "Spit it out."

She jumped slightly, possibly wondering how he could read her so well, which was something he was also curious about. "Um, well I was just going to say that you could have pressed charges, if you didn’t still have feelings for her, that is."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Did you want me to?"

"No! I mean, she gets to me sometimes, but … no."

"You don't sound too sure. I guess having your sister take all your boyfriends is harder than it sounds."

She rubbed her arm. "Yeah …"

He looked at her, trying to see more than what his newfound ability afforded him, but nothing came and he had to ask, "Was it really so tough?"

She snorted. "I’m going to be thirty soon, and because I didn’t get married and have kids ten years ago my mom thinks my life is over, Carly's younger, prettier, and braver than I'll ever be."