Blood Awakening

CHAPTER TWO-2

KISSERA AWOKE TO UNFAMILIAR sounds. Was that the TV? Had Angela returned? She cracked an eyelid and took a deep breath. This wasn’t her lair. It smelled of unknown vampires, stale blood and burnt flesh. The drab gray walls were as far from her lair’s bold colors as A was from Z. Panic shot through her. She jumped off the mattress fully awake. The narrow, bricked room had no windows. A heavy metal door with a small cutout allowed a little light in. Not this. Not again. They’d taken her again. How? Didn’t matter. She was prepared this time. She could fight.

The haze of memories cleared. Kissera’s hands shook, and she stepped back until she touched the smooth, cool wall of her cell. The sharp tang of bleach, vinegar, and silver stung her nostrils. Kissera gulped down air, a weak attempt to keep her mind focused on the present, but scent memory was too strong. She leaned against the wall, eyes closed as memories from her deep past threatened to overwhelm her.

Voices murmured outside her cell, an unknown fresh hell about to be unleashed. The door opened. Past and present collided. She screamed. She wouldn’t let them hurt her again.

“Ms. Eriksson. Please, settle down,” a male voice said in an even, calm tone. The man in her past had been calm too. Calm and slightly regretful before he tortured her.

Kissera reached out with her mind and pushed the voice away. The man stumbled backward against the door causing it to thud into the wall.

“Dammit. What the hell?”

“Stay away from me!” Kissera moved into a fighting stance, gaze pinned on her attacker. If he moved so much as a finger, she’d knock him through the wall. She never went down without a fight.

“The door’s open. You aren’t a prisoner.”

More hushed voices. Another man stepped into the doorway. He was massive and his body blocked most of the light from the hallway. It was the same man she fought at Relics. Kissera balled her hands into fists, ready to attack. Two Nativum males would be a challenge in these tight quarters but Adrian had taught her well. She could take them.

“What, in the name of the blood, is wrong with you assholes?” the Investigator bellowed. “I told you to leave her in the waiting room until I called for her. How’d she end up in lockup?” The minion stammered a response, but his boss cut him off. “Never mind. I don’t wanna hear it. Get the hell out of here.”

“Boss, she started coming to in the waiting room. We didn’t want her to cause a scene.”

“She still had the cuffs on. In the middle of HQ. What did you think would happen? Oh right. You didn’t think. Big surprise there. Go do some paperwork or something.”

After his minion left, the Investigator moved out of the doorway clearing her exit.

“Ms. Eriksson? Are you okay?” The booming voice of a few seconds ago was replaced with one softer and full of concern. She stood up and tentatively stepped past him into the hallway.

“I’m sorry about this. Those guys are idiots. Please come with me. I’d still like to talk.”

“I want to go home.” She hated how her voice shook with residual panic. “Now.”

“Just a few questions. You can trust me.” He extended his hand, palm up as though she was a skittish kitten.

Kissera shook off the last dregs of past nightmares, stuck her chin out and put on her I-don’t-give-a-damn face. “That’s not Angela’s blood. I didn’t hurt her.”

“I know. The blood is male. We’ll ignore how you got it if you cooperate. I want to find out what happened to Angela. Will you help me?”

His dry, matter-of-fact voice soothed her frayed nerves. Past ghosts slithered back to their dark corner, making her earlier panic seem ridiculous. He looked nothing like the men in black robes who had taken her all those years ago. They had never revealed themselves. Cowards. Destroyed in an avalanche of fire over two hundred years ago, those monsters couldn’t hurt her anymore.

Kissera forced her mind into the present. “Angela’s not lost.” Dammit. She should've kept her mouth shut.

The Investigator eyed her with intensity. “No one said anything about her being lost.”

His body language was relaxed as if he had all the time in the world and he moved clear to give her more space. No tricks. Once in the bright hallway, the shadows of her time in the dark cell fell away. She took a deep breath and reached up to smooth her hair. It was the least she could do to become presentable after a fist fight and tazing.

They went up a few floors in the elevator then down a short hall to a small windowless office that looked as though it had been decorated by a small tornado. The chaos of papers and files offended her shopkeeper's sense of order. The nameplate on the door read Sgt. Markus Davenport. Boss was no low level lackey. He had some clout. Nice. Or not. She was now on the radar of a high ranked Investigator. What next? A Director coming over for blood and bingo?

Davenport tilted the guest chair, spilling a stack of books to the floor. The only flat surface of the room not covered in paper was a shelf behind his chair cluttered with elephant figurines. Some were finely crafted and new looking, others old and worn. Still others looked to be the work of children. Interesting choice of collectibles for an Investigator.

“Please sit.” Davenport went around to the business side of the desk, then hit a few buttons on the phone. “Two pigs.” He held his hand over the mouthpiece. “Warm or room temp?”

“Warm is fine.”

“Both warm. Thanks.” He hung up the phone and leaned back in his seat. “That’ll be up in a few minutes. It’s fresher than you’d think, considering.”

Kissera said nothing until the blood arrived. This was too bizarre. Here she was deep in the heart of Nativum HQ, the last place a renegade Creare with a MIA companion wanted to be. The war might be long over but the Nativum and Creare still didn’t play nice together. After a few sips of the pig blood, Davenport folded his hands on the desk.

“Tell me about Angela.”

“She’s not here.” Maybe he won't notice the last thing I said. Kissera's spirit brightened.

“You mentioned that. You also said she's not lost.”

Kissera grimaced. Hope was such a useless emotion.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.” Maybe she could make up something plausible so this guy would get off her back. “She left of her own free will. I think she went to Cuba to see her grandparents.”

Davenport drew his dark eyebrows together. His gazed bored into her. “We both know that’s not true. Let’s try again.”

How did he know about her lie? How long had they been tracking her? Nativum were notoriously thorough. The office crammed with paper showcased that, but how could they keep track of every companion for every vampire out there? There were thousands of vampires and at least twice as many companions.

“Okay. She’s probably not in Cuba. I don’t know where she is. Really. But wherever she is she’s no threat to us.”

“So you ended your agreement, yet haven’t scheduled a mind wipe. You haven’t filed papers for delisting. Haven’t followed any of the typical procedures. This for a companion you’ve had for ten years?”

“We haven't ended our agreement, and she doesn’t need a mind wipe. She’ll protect our secrets.”

“Ms. Eriksson, I’m sure you are familiar with the rules of letting a companion go. We can’t have them wandering out in the general human population.”

“Angela's not like that.”

Davenport stared at her for a moment, then his face twisted into something less benign. “Did you turn her?” He swiveled around in his chair to shuffle through a stack of papers behind him.

“I don't need to fill out any damn forms. I didn’t turn her. I don’t want progeny.”

“If you didn’t turn her, who did? We’ll launch an investigation and–”

“By the blood! You Nativum and your investigations. What is it about paperwork that gets you guys so hot and bothered? Angela’s not a vampire. No one turned her.”

As much as she hated the rules, they served a purpose. No turning humans unless through the proper channels. No unregistered companions. No free range killing of humans. Sad thing was, that while the rules seemed extreme and confining back in nineteen sixteen, they made life easier in these modern times. Without these guidelines in place, both vampire races would’ve been in much more danger.

“I sympathize with your predicament, Ms. Eriksson, but I can't let you go until we are satisfied you haven't killed or turned your companion.”

“This is ridiculous.” Kissera seethed and gritted her teeth. “I follow the rules. I stick to myself. I don't cause trouble. Why are you targeting me? Isn't there more important business to attend to?”

“We got an anonymous tip. We have to follow up.”

Kissera threw her head back and stared at the ceiling. Anonymous tip my ass. Someone was f*****g with her. Not someone. Fredericko. His territory bordered hers at Bowery and Grand Street. The area that used to be Little Italy was a constant source of contention between them. Calling attention to her missing companion would be a typical d**k move for Fredericko.

“What if I told you I knew who gave you the anonymous tip and why?”

“Continue,” Davenport said leaning forward.

“Fredericko. We've been rivals for decades. I wouldn't be surprised if he drummed this up just to f**k with me.”

“Well, even if this is just a case of territorial rivalry, I still have to keep you locked up while we investigate further. It won't be for long.”

“I'm not a criminal. I'm going home.” Kissera stood. This time she towered over the Sergeant instead of other way around. “You guys can knock yourselves out investigating until dawn. I don’t care.”

He pointed at the black and white clock on the wall above his head. “I don't think so.”

Damn. This whole ordeal had her so twisted she didn't notice the tingling in the back of her mind.

“You understand I can't have you sleeping in the waiting room.”

Kissera frowned, but nodded. Nativum preferred to sleep during the day, but didn't have to. Creare had no choice. Sunup equaled lights out.

“You going to be all right in there?”

Not believing in this show of concern, she resisted the urge to punch his face. “I'll be fine.”

Davenport made some notes in the manila folder in front of him, then led her back to the cell she'd awoken in; the door slammed shut with an echo that mirrored the emptiness Kissera felt inside.