Whitestripe

Chapter 6

Rayne Whitestripe

Walking in the room, I glanced around at my surroundings. It remained unchanged since the last time I was here. It was a modern office, not the fiery pits that I imagined a few minutes ago. There was a small bookshelf shoved in the corner with more dust on it than books. Some of the books I knew just by the cover and what’s even worse had memorized every word inside. Others I could only assume as some more manuals that sooner or later would be shoved under my nose to read. I hoped not. Those were very boring. I love to read but not something that I have to. I looked ahead, sitting behind the new flat-screen computer monitor was the slug.

Gryatt was a short man. Probably 40 mid 50's when he was changed. He had a bald spot right smack dab in the center of his head. I swear he used to comb over his hair when I first started working for Shadow. He is also very portly, about as round as he is tall. His graying brown eyes and pudgy face make his narrow and pointed nose look about as out of place as his fine lips. I swear he has a quadruple chin. It just kept bulging in different layers at least 4 times. The icing on the cake was that unibrow! He had a big bushy unibrow that I had mentally on multiple occasions wanted to take a pair of tweezers to.

As I walked over to the desk, Gryatt looked up at me. He always assessed what I was wearing by a long stare up and down my body. Gross. Probably one reason he didn't like me, I heard rumors that other hunters, both male and female, slept with him to be promoted or to be under his wing. When I first started training, long before this mission, he approached me. I told him he was way out of his league, and if he ever tried anything with me, I would cut off his balls and feed them to him on a stick. I think he actually believed me because since then, he was cold and a general bastard towards me and made my life hell. It’s amazing. We can't have relationships between specialists, but the elders could screw anyone they damn well pleased. It must be nice being able to make your own rules and break them when it suits you.

"I received your reports from the death and attack last night. I told you to bring them in personally." He glared at me. "Sorry, boss, but my laptop broke at the start of this mission. I’ve told you that multiple times now." I shrugged. "Well, next time you should come prepared and bring the one that you have been issued already." Uh, how? It doesn’t start…. He stopped staring at me and went back to his computer. "I would if you would replace it. It’s dead. Like dead dead, won’t start anymore. Before it died, it was slower than you are in the middle of a hot summer day." I flopped down on one of the leather chairs across from him

Our elders were the ones able to assign laptops for security purposes. They were specially made, so they were impenetrable to those looking for our secrets. "I deserve an apology for your tone this morning. It was uncalled for. You were way out of line," he said. "I give no apology for anything. You are the one out of line. I have never seen any of the other specialists’ drug around town for multiple days without any form of rest. Hell, most of them are living it up in Hotels like the Hilton. Off of company money, driving Hummers and gambling on company credit cards." I remarked as I directed my attention out the only window in the office. "You still were out of line. I want an apology." "Or what?" I quipped back, bringing my icy blue stare back to him. I felt the aura around him. I felt it shift to unease the minute I brought my attention back to him. He was scared of me. I knew that already, knew that from the day that I threatened him if he ever touched me. "I have your ass deported." He threatened. "Try it." I smiled.

If I really wanted to, I could walk around his desk with ease and break that fat neck. It wouldn’t kill him; it would hurt like hell, though, and I would be pleased. It’s an automatic deportation if I did, though, or possible execution. I don't know if he actually expected an apology or if he was trying to ruffle my feathers. Either way, I didn't care. He was not going to get an apology from me. Call it childish, but it’s my honor on the line, and I don't apologize for things that I am not sorry for.

"Fine, then we'll see how the others think about your actions." Gryatt actually picked up his phone receiver and looked at me expectantly... Like the threat of calling, or even for that matter, actually calling the other elders would make me quip up and apologize. Hah, he knows me better than that. He actually did call the Washington office. I caught bits and pieces of the conversation; I wasn't really interested in what they had to say. I heard Gryatt complaining to another one of the Elders, Pryarasota, about my actions. John Pryarasota, or just Sota as some called him, was old even for a vampire.

The average life of a vampire in Shadow was about 1000 years old. They usually started to bore of the job and would retire somewhere nice, or they were on rare occasions killed for whatever reason. Usually, due to breaking the code of ethics. I’m only 290 years or 29 in humans. It's about 10 years for me per every 1 for a human. I haven't stopped aging yet, though. It’s just very slow. The elders were older, I think Gryatt was about 500 years or so old. I would say that Sota was probably nearing two thousand if I had to guess. The oldest known living vampire was well over one hundred thousand years old. He was not an elder anymore. He retired to a small island in the Pacific a long time ago.