Dan turned and looked straight into the blue eyes of the man who had been his mentor at work for the past eight years. The man he trusted as his friend. Ron was a laid back, gentle guy. This was the first time Dan had ever seen such stern resolve in those normally carefree blue eyes. He suddenly felt a spark of his old self and a buzz in his pocket.
“If it’s Weller don’t answer,” Ron said.
“Its Detective Martinez, I don’t remember putting her number in my phone…. “
“Put her on speaker,” Ron said.
“This is Dan….”
“Mr. Okada, I’m at Sean O’Rourke’s apartment. How fast can you get to Beacon Hill?”
Detective Martinez was already sitting in Sean’s brown leather recliner with her feet on his matching ottoman when they arrived. She sipped her latte and looked right through them.
“Do you know what we found when my team searched this apartment?” She asked.
They both looked at each other and kept their mouths shut.
“Not a damn thing!”
They both relaxed their shoulders.
She jetted out of the chair and moved toward them, picking up what looked like another journal from the glass top coffee table. She shoved the journal into Dan’s chest.
“Open it and read the first damn sentence.”
Dan knew not to mess with her. He looked at the inside front cover. It was another of Henry Cahill’s journals.
“August 26, 1996. Boston Gazette reporter Sarah Devers has been missing since Saturday. She was last seen at a local Vampire themed club called, Rouge where she was investigating the Vampire cult scene.”
“What is with you people and this vampire obsession?” She asked.
“So you found nothing about embezzlement?” Ron asked.
“Bingo, where is the damn money?”
Dan just shook his head.
“Sean had nothing to do with this. Why don’t you investigate that prick, Weller?”
A huge grin swept across her face.
“If you want to help your friend, you should help me.”
“What can we do?” Ron asked.
“Get me access to Weller’s computer. I’m guessing he has two sets of books.”
Dylan tried to focus as snow flakes fell on the windshield.
“How is our friend,” he asked the old man in the passenger seat.
Elia looked back. “He’s sleeping. We have another four hours before the wolfsbane wears off. But we will need to give him another dose before he gets on the plane.”
Dylan looked back at the snowy road ahead. A cold jolt of electricity went up his spine.
“Something is wrong,” he said.
“I feel it too. Could it be him? Is it Wilhelm?”
They both looked straight ahead toward a man in dark clothes with blonde hair walking toward them.
“Oh fuck it’s him,” Dylan said as he sped up.
“You can’t run him over he will stop us…”
Wilhelm put his right hand forward, the force of his power hit the SUV head on.
Dylan was losing control on the car. He felt it lift off the ground and roll over. The air bag exploded onto his chest as the vehicle slid sideways on its roof crashing into the White Pines on the side of the road.
He looked over at Elia who was out cold with blood streaming down his left cheek from a gash in his head. He had to move fast. The driver’s side door was sealed against a huge pine. He ripped off his seat belt and jumped into the back seat stepping on their sedated guest who was unshaken by the accident. He threw off the right back passenger door and sped out. He picked up the door and threw it at Wilhelm, who was now only three hundred feet away. He ducked and kept coming.
“Is that all you got, vampire? Hand over the O’Rourke boy and I will let your magician live.”
“Elia has always had a death wish so you can kill him.”
Wilhelm stopped. Dylan smirked when he saw the puzzled look on his face. He looked straight through his adversary’s cold gray blue eyes. Nothing, nothing in there, still, just like in Munich.
Her villa was simple on the outside, with ornate mahogany and black marble floors throughout the downstairs. I followed her into the backyard where A young man was already digging.
The young man looked up and grinned at them.
Henry’s heart jumped a few beats. He knew him, well knew of him. Dylan was one of Tegan’s oldest allies. They were rumored to have been married centuries ago.
“Your heart is beating to fast Henry.” She said. “Everything is alright. You are safe here.”
Milton placed the officer’s body into the hole.
Dylan moved fast covering the officer’s body with dirt, then stopped.
“Get back,” he said as the officer arose from his freshly dug grave.
Tegan leaned back and closed her eyes. Henry knew she must have trusted him. When they reached the hotel he gently nudged her awake. She opened her eyes as the hotel doorman opened the car door. She exited falling to her knees.
The doorman gasped, then moved quickly to life her.
A knot formed in Henry’s throat at the sight of it. He summoned all he had.
“Tegan,” Henry called to her. He slid over and jumped out to help her. He took her arm under his.
“Which room do you need?”
She turned to him, a shell of the vampire he had researched, feared.
“It’s room… oh he’ll do.” She said as a young Nazi officer approached.
“Let me see your papers, Yankee,” he said to Henry.
“Close your eyes Henry,” Tegan said.
She lounged forward and embraced the officer sinking her fangs into his neck. Henry’s heart raced. He looked up and down the sidewalk no one seemed to notice, what was happening. Even the doorman asked..,
“Too much wine? We have coffee inside for the lady.”
“We…were good!” Henry stuttered.
Drive,” Tegan said.
“I need to feed. Take me to Hotel Wolff.”
“We can’t…,” Henry stopped himself. How could he argue with her? Even in her shaken state, she could overtake him.
“I have a regular there, it’s not what you think. He gives me blood.”
“Ok, Milton head to Hotel Wolff in the ArnulfstrauBe,” he told the driver.
“What happened tonight,” he asked.
“I touched him as I said and I saw what is to come….” she said. “Complete devastation, death, genocide.”
Henry’s heart jumped. He believed her.
“We need you,” he said. “We need your organization, we must defeat this monster.”
“I actually agree with you.”
Tegan took a seat in a pew in front of Agent Cahill. She knew she had to gain his trust by taking the weaker position.
She turned to greet him observing his blue eyes widened, his mouth agape.
“Yes, I can enter a church,” she grinned.
He shook his head as if to snap himself to.
“I guess there is a lot I need to learn about vampires.”
“There’s a lot everyone needs to learn about vampires,” she said.
He loosened his shoulders.
“Well it looks like we have a common interest.”
“Or a common enemy,” she said.
“Indeed, the Fuhrer, is everyone’s enemy. You know what we need, what do you need?”
She twirled her red locks.
“Safe passage out of the country back to the US for myself and my son.”
“What about your husband?…”
“Unfortunately he is more loyal to his homeland than I first understood.”
Leslie Paxton had that cold tight feeling in her chest again. Her lover Sarah acted like nothing was wrong.
“Its just a routine assignment,” Sarah said. “A fluff piece for Halloween, they want to bring in a younger audience, college kids love vampires, that silly Buffy movie is even being made into a TV show my editor said.”
The silly fluff piece went well past Halloween, Sarah was out at all hours of the night, she seemed tense, nervous, in a fog. Leslie wanted her to drop the story, but knew she couldn’t ask, so she offered to help, Sarah declined.
“Don’t want to share your Pulitzer?” Leslie joked.
“Something like that,” Sarah’s smiled.
It was late December when Leslie finally had enough. She jumped in her VW and followed Sarah to a club called Insomnia in Southie. She parked a few blocks away grabbed her mace and a screw driver out of the glove compartment and made her way to the brick building hidden in back of a cobble stone alley. She walked past a bunch of goth looking kids, showed the very tall pale, bouncer her ID and entered into a long red hallway. Her heart started to jump. Why was it so quiet? She slowed down as she moved closer to the wooden door that led into another room. She could hear a woman laughing inside. Leslie opened the door just enough to see Insominia’s secret.
The journals and archives of Tegan’s life were endless. Dan had secretly been accessing them through the Foundation’s library for months. He needed to know who she really was–friend, or secret enemy. He had downloaded a few volumes on his reading device and brought them on the plane.
Page 505 paragraph 3
The ship docked in what is now known as Boston Harbor in 1630. Only five families remained alive. A decision had to be made quick. Orion wanted to kill them all. I understood his reasoning, most Christians couldn’t be trusted with our secret. He made a good argument that they would eventually turn on us and have us staked. Tegan had a better idea. She suggested, why not force them to keep our secret by turning one of their beloved family members. Make them see what we go through, make them sympathize, Orion loved it. Out of respect for Tegan’s age and stature in the vampire community we asked her to pick the family members that should be turned. The first one she wanted was Joseph O’Rourke. My first thought was that she was just looking to make Justin, her ex lover, jealous with the handsome young man. Over time however, I began to see the wisdom of all of Tegan’s choices. She did nothing out of simple spite. Every move she ever made was highly calculated and always to the advantage of our family. Joseph O’Rourke was an excellent choice.
From the Memoirs of the Vampire Gabriella Martinez
Was she friend or foe? Just keep quiet he told himself. His stomach spun. He was strong, he could take her. But she was a threat?
“By the vampire code, you must repay me for your release,” she said.
“So, you are an opportunist, what a relief.” he said. “What is your name madame?”
“I am Sarah,” she smiled, “We need to go—Wilhelm.”
“I have a safe house for you, but we need to move, fast.”
He looked around the room noticing all the other coffins.
“Where am I?”
“The De Morlais Tomb.”
He felt a sharp pain in his heart. The memories flooded back. Tegan, she did this to me—with those hunters, the O’Rourkes. He hopped out of the coffin, following Sarah toward the main gate.
The cold wind felt familiar as did the gray autumn sky. He was buried in 1945, he hoped Boston was somewhat recognizable to him.
The noise was unbearable, most of it Wilhelm couldn’t understand. He had been a prisoner for seventy-three years. It took all the strength he possessed to scratch the top of the wooden coffin. The noise was coming closer to him, pounding, thrashing, piercing his sensitive ears. His wooden prison shook.
“Stop, stop,” he cried out covering his ears. A sharp terror filled him as he realized someone was opening the top of his prison.
“Holy Hell.” He heard a woman’s voice, unrecognizable to him. “This can’t be possible.”
He stayed silent. His fear subsiding. He summoned all his strength to open his eyes and meet his new savior. Something dripped onto his mouth, it smelled of—blood. Old instinct kicked in, he licked. More and more flooded his mouth, he was being fed, freed, satiated. Alive again every cell in his being shouted. The droplets invaded every part of him, a high warm buzz melted into his membranes. Strength returned. He lifted his arm and felt his skin, it was whole again. He rose to lock eyes with a skinny blonde, young woman, holding a blow torch.