Vexing Vampires

"I have a vampire and I'm not afraid to use him," the bleached blond declared, staring at the hoods with guns.

Seth prevented himself from rolling his eyes, but only just. Since he was the vampire she wasn't afraid to use, it wouldn't look very threatening if he snickered at her pronouncement. Hearing the guns cock, he stepped in front of her and took three bullets to the chest. Looking down, he glared at the mess the slugs had made of his shirt. "Do you know how hard blood is to get out of silk?" he asked conversationally before moving in and beginning to toss the thugs around.

Two minutes into the fight, a voice yelled, "Cut! Print!" Seth stopped mid-throw, setting the stuntman back on his feet. The director over to the two of them. "That was perfect, Seth, Celia," he included the blond, Seth's co-star in his remarks. "Good work, both of you."

Seth stretched, working out a kink he had gotten from holding back in that last scene. "Melodramatic much, Peter?" he asked. "Who's writing our dialog now?"

Peter grinned. "Come on, Seth, the fan girls'll love it. It'll be this season's catch phrase."

Seth groaned, already foreseeing conventions where that stupid line was quoted at him ad naseum. "Still, it is a little," Seth tried to find a word that wouldn't completely insult the writers; most of whom he genuinely liked--when they weren't writing crappy dialog.

"Melodramatic?" Peter repeated back to him.

Seth picked at his shirt where the fake blood had started to congeal. "Just a little," he agreed, managing to keep most of the sarcasm out of his voice.

Peter turned and looked at the extras, stuntmen, and crew that were still hanging around the set. Celia had apparently disappeared at some point during the conversation because she was no where in sight. "That's lunch, gang," Peter called. "Seth, after lunch, I want finish the fight scene. You up for that?"

The actor nodded. "That's fine, but I need another shirt." He gestured to the one he was currently wearing. "This one's a lost cause."

Peter swung around, spied the set photographer, and snapped his fingers at her. "Snap Seth's shirt," he ordered. When the girl was done, he snatched the Polaroid out of her hand and waved it around as he continued talking. "So, go; eat. Be back at one," he informed Seth. "We'll have everything set when you get here."

Seth nodded. "That's fine." He turned and sauntered off-set, snagging a bottle of water as he went. Safely in his dressing room, he stripped out of the sticky shirt and detached what was left of the squibs. With a distasteful grimace, he dropped the shirt into the trashcan. Thankfully it didn't actually smell like real blood, but it felt uncomfortably clammy.

He used a damp towel, leftover from an earlier shower, to clean off his bare chest and decided he hadn't gotten enough of the fake blood mixture on his dark jeans to bother changing them. Especially since it meant they'd have to find him another pair to finish the scene.

He opened the small fridge that rested on the table under the window and pulled out one of the bottles of blood that resided inside. He cracked the seal on the water bottle and dumped it down the drain as he began to drink the other bottle. Cold blood didn't go down as easily as warm, but it would get him through the afternoon.

There were some days when he wondered why he was an actor. He was over five hundred years old; had worked a variety of jobs and careers over the centuries, but somehow he was now an actor. He had to admit it was at least an interesting job and provided him with a semi-safe hunting ground since he could prey on the club girls when he went out.

He glanced at his watch, noting that it was close to one; the time he was supposed to report back to the set. Reaching into the fridge, he pulled out another bottle of blood. This one he transferred into the water bottle and added a little water to dilute it so that it looked like he had flavored water. Pulling on a t-shirt, he made his way out to the main set area.

Stepping into the cavernous room that was set up like a warehouse right now, he paused as he smelled blood. It wasn't coming from his bottle, but it was the cloying scent of real blood. Alarmed, he felt his real fangs begin to extend, pushing the fake ones off his teeth. Quickly he popped the fake ones loose and shoved them in his pocket. He'd think of a reason later if he broke one of them and had to explain it.

Drawn by the blood scent, he made his way over to where a circle of chairs sat. A familiar blond head could be seen over the back of one of the chairs. "Cel-ia," he drawled softly, knowing it wasn't uncommon for his co-star to take a nap between takes, "did you cut yourself?" When there was no answer, he moved around to the front and put his fingers under her chin, tilting her head up. The new view allowed him to see two neat puncture wounds on her carotid artery. "Well, shit," he said.

"Seth!" Peter's bellow startled him into moving his hand and her head dropped back down.

Seth spun around, careful to keep his movements human-slow, to see Peter coming in the opposite door; the rest of the cast and crew behind him. "Double shit," the vampire muttered as he realized how badly this scene would reflect on him.

Peter crossed the room in long strides, his voice carrying ahead of him, "If she's sleeping, wake her up. I'd like to get this in the can today."

"She's dead, Peter," Seth said as the director reached out to shake her shoulder. "Better not touch her."

"Well, shit," Peter replied, unknowingly echoing his actor's words. He turned, keeping both Seth and the body of his actress in sight. "Sully, go call security. Get Mike Braxton and have him call the cops. The rest of you go back outside." As everyone started to move, Peter remembered the cell phones and walkies that most of them carried. "Sully, confiscate everyone's cell or walkie." When the protests started, he bellowed over them, "You'll get them back, but I don't want this all over the web before the cops even get here." The majority of the people had cleared out when Peter turned his full attention back to Seth. Slinging an arm around the shorter man, he pulled Seth closer so he could speak quietly, "If you killed her, tell me now, so we can work out a story for the cops."

Seth looked at him in shock; if his heart still beat unconsciously it would have stopped at that comment. Luckily too many years of him consciously making it beat, kept it going. "No, I didn't kill her," he responded.

Peter stared him in the eye. "Okay. I believe you. Where are your fangs?"

For a second, Seth thought the director meant his real ones which had finally retracted back up into the roof of his mouth. Then he realized what Peter was asking about. He dug them out of his pocket. "They were annoying me," he said as he handed them over.

Sully re-entered at that moment, the head of security on his heels. Mike Braxton was a retired cop who had put twenty years into the force, but wasn't quite ready to sit at home with his feet up. Seth liked the easy-going man who treated screaming divas and teenage fan girls with the same no-nonsense attitude and a tension-less smile. There was no smile on his lined face now. "You okay, Mr. Dawne?" he asked as he joined them a few steps from the body.

Seth nodded. "I'm fine physically, Mike, it was just a bit of a shock."

Mike nodded back. "I'm sure it was." He looked Celia over. "She sure looks dead. Did you check for a pulse?"

Seth grimaced. He hadn't even thought to check. He hadn't heard her heart and the puncture marks were pretty clear to him. "I didn't," he admitted, "but she didn't respond to all the noise. Even Celia doesn't sleep that soundly."

Braxton pulled the three of them back from the scene, but wouldn't let them actually leave the set. Seth concentrated on keeping his breathing even, although he didn't have to breath; he found he passed for human more readily if he acted human. As he waited, he ran lines in his head; trying to distract himself from the smell of fresh blood. Whoever had killed Celia hadn't drained her completely because he could still smell the blood in her and on her.

He braced himself not to react early when he heard the car pull-up outside since there were no sirens blaring. A moment later, two men strolled into the stage. Seth studied them as they approached. They were about the same height, but that was about the only thing similar. The younger of the two was a little bit slenderer with sandy-brown hair cut military short and as he got closer, Seth could make out green eyes. He was dressed more casually than Seth had expected in a light blue button down and a pair of dark brown jeans. The other man, his partner Seth assumed, was African-American and heavier built, although not pudgy by any stretch of the imagination. His head was clean-shaven, but his face was adorned with a cleanly-cut goatee. Unlike his partner, he was dressed in a brown suit. Both of them flashed badges as they joined the small knot of people that Braxton had herded into place.

"Detective Colby Groves," the younger one introduced himself. "My partner, David Slaton." He indicated the other man. "Who found the body?"

Seth raised his hand awkwardly. "I did. Or, well, I was the first one back on set after lunch. I thought Celia was just sleeping."

"And you are?" Colby asked.

"Seth Dawne. I play Robert Hawke. Celia is...was...my co-star," Seth answered, trying to remember how to react like a human who hadn't seen much death.

Colby nodded. "You and I are going to have a discussion then while David talks to your friends here. Is there somewhere we can talk privately?"

"He's not talking to you alone," Peter butted in.

Colby's eyebrows raised. "We're going to speak to everyone privately, Mr..."

"Davies. Peter Davies. I'm the director. And you aren't taking Seth anywhere," Peter answered.

Seth rested a gentle hand on Peter's arm. "It's fine, Peter," he reassured the director. "I don't have anything to hide. I'll speak to the detective in my dressing room." Seth was confident in his mesmerizing powers and didn't think that one cop, even one strong-willed cop, would be too much of an issue. "My room is this way, Detective." Seth gestured in the direction they would need to go.

Colby looked around the room after they both entered. The actor was surprisingly relaxed, but the detective supposed he could be acting. "This isn't exactly what I was expecting," he admitted as he looked around the room.

Seth grinned as he stored the bottle of blood back in his fridge. "Were you expecting some decadent, palatial suite?" he asked as he dropped into the easy chair. He motioned for the detective to have a seat on the couch. "They offered me a lot more, but honestly as long as I have somewhere comfortable to relax," Seth shrugged, "I'm not a diva. Celia was the demanding one."

Colby pulled a small notebook out of his pocket. "How long have you known her?"

"Celia? About two years. We met when we began filming Hawke's Night." Seth picked up pair of meditation balls from the table next to him, but didn't begin rolling them in his hand.

"How did you get along with her?" Colby asked.

"I've worked with worse," Seth explained. "Celia was cranky, demanding, and wanted her way all the time, but she knew her lines cold and when the cameras were rolling, she was a professional."

"You got along with her all right?" Colby restated his question a different way since the actor hadn't really answered it.

"I don't spend much time with Celia when we aren't filming or running lines. I tend to like my privacy. I escorted her to a couple of parties that we both had to make appearances at and as long as she was the center of attention, she was happy. I'm just as happy not to be the center of attention."

"Where were you right before you found the body?"

Seth waved his hand at the room. "Right here. My shirt got trashed in the last scene so I came back here to grab a t-shirt during lunch."

"You didn't eat with the others?"

He shook his head. "I don't normally. Like I said I like my privacy."

Colby got up and walked around the room, poking into the garbage can and pulling out the shirt Seth had tossed there. The rest of the can was empty. He held the shirt up by an edge, displaying the blood. "You normally toss shirts drenched in blood into your garbage? And where's the leftovers from your lunch?"

"I didn't eat anything for lunch. I've had an upset stomach for a couple of days so I drank a bottle of water and lay down for a few minutes. And, yes, when I have a shirt that has fake blood on it from squibs, I'll toss it in the garbage."

Colby started to ask another question when there was a knock on the door. Without waiting for the actor to answer, the cop opened the door. His partner was on the other side. "We got the weirdest COD ever," David said.

"What?" Colby asked. David looked over Colby's shoulder at the actor and then jerked his head towards the hall. Colby followed him out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. "What's the COD?" he asked.

"She bled out," David explained and when Colby started to tell him that wasn't that weird, he continued, "from two little puncture holes on her neck. Weird part...they looked just like the vampire marks from any horror movie. There isn't any blood in the area and there's no blood on her." He paused again and looked his partner in the eye. "It looks like someone drank her blood."

Colby looked back at the closed door behind which he had left the actor. "I got a guy who has no alibi or at least a really funky one and a bloody shirt. And who plays a vampire on TV. Maybe he's a method actor?"

David gave a one shouldered shrug. "I don't know. You want to haul him downtown?"

Colby shook his head. "No, let's just tell him not to leave town and keep an eye on him. There's something fishy about him, but I can't quite put my finger on it."

David grimaced. "Can you throw any more cliches in there, partner? I'll see you back at the car."

Seth looked up from his script as the cop came back into his room. "More questions, Detective?" he asked.

"Not right now, Mr. Dawne. We'd like you to stay in the area though and be available for questions," Colby responded.

"Am I a suspect?" Seth questioned.

"Everyone's a suspect at the moment," Colby told him. "We'll be in touch."

Seth waited until the detective had left to pull his bottle of blood back out of the fridge. Twisting off the cap, he downed half the bottle in one swallow. He tipped the bottle up to drink more of the blood when door slammed open. "Seth, what the hell is going on?" Peter demanded.

Seth choked on the swallow he had just taken and lowered the bottle to look the director in the eye. "What?" he gasped out.

"Why did you kill Celia? What were you thinking?"

Seth blinked in shock. "Didn't we have this discussion already? I told you I didn't kill her. I have no reason to want her dead."

"You two fought yesterday," Peter pointed out.

Seth rolled his eyes. "We fought all the time, Peter. She was a bitch. Yesterday was just typical shit. She accused me of stepping on her lines. I said I wasn't and pointed out that we are...were...co-stars. She was all smiles and light five minutes later when some reporter came on set. I answered a couple of questions and ducked out. You know I don't talk to press unless its scheduled. Why are you suddenly suspecting me again?" He waved Peter to the couch and both of them took seats; Seth back in his easy chair and Peter on the couch.

"I wasn't suspecting you until I saw how Celia died. Did you see the puncture marks? It looked like a vampire killed her," Peter said.

"I'm not a vampire, Peter, I just play one on TV," Seth cracked.

"Don't screw around, Seth. I know what you are," Peter said quietly.

"I'm an actor, Peter. You've known me for two years. I'm just a guy who plays a vampire for a third rate television show." Seth could feel his muscles tensing up. It had been years since he had been exposed as a vampire, but he had killed in the past to protect his secret and he would do it again. He had never killed by draining someone of blood though. It left too large a trail.

"And that bottle just contains water," Peter said sarcastically. "I'm not stupid, Seth. I've seen you at the clubs. Now tell me why you killed Celia."

Seth moved so quickly he knew that all Peter saw was a blur. In moments he was across the room, his hands on either side of Peter's head. He held it firmly and hissed in the director's ear, "If I had killed her, I would have snapped her neck, not drained her of blood. I don't kill that way. Now obviously someone is trying to frame me. Are you going to help me or are you doing to continue accusing me of something I didn't do?"

Peter tried to keep his breathing even as he stared into the formerly blue eyes of the man he thought was his friend. The eyes had darkened to midnight and the whites were now streaked with blood. Fangs had elongated from his upper mouth and he hissed at the director. Peter found himself staring at his face in fascination. "Why didn't you correct us when we got things wrong?" he asked curiously, his attention distracted by how wrong they had gotten Seth's make-up.

Seth drew back and rolled his eyes as they bled back to their normal sky blue color. "Like I'd want people to have the correct information about vampires?"

"So what else did we get wrong?" Peter asked, fascinated by being able to ask questions of an actual vampire. "Obviously you can go out in the sunlight. Can you be killed by normal means? Are you going to live forever? How long have you been a vampire?"

Seth held up a hand. "Can you hold your questions? I'll answer them, provided you agree to keep the answers to yourself, after we clear my name."

Peter nodded. "Yes. Of course. Sorry."

#70

Seth returned to his chair, moving human-slow this time. "I didn't kill her. I had my fangs in my mouth or my pocket the entire time we weren't all on the set so they weren't used to frame me. Any idea when Celia left the stage?"

Peter shook his head. "Sometime after I started talking to you and before I called lunch." He frowned. "Which she shouldn't have done. We were scheduled to continue working on that scene and not break then."

"So something drew her away from the set," Seth mused. "I broke the spare pair of fangs last week and I know they haven't molded a new one yet."

"What are you saying?" Peter asked.

"There's another vampire on set. And it's someone who belongs here," Seth answered.

"You belong here," Peter pointed out.

"I said another vampire, Peter. Now who was missing from lunch?" Seth grabbed an old script from his table and flipped it over to scribble on it.

"You. Celia. Sully. Susan. Jason. Jack and Megan," Peter rattled off the names.

"Well, it obviously wasn't Celia," Seth said dryly. "And I know it wasn't me. That leaves us five suspects."

"I have the feeling we can cross Megan and Jack off the list also," Peter said.

"Why?" Seth asked as he finished scribbling down the names Peter had given him.

"Unless Celia was killed by two vampires, you can cross them off. Megan and Jack were most likely together during the break." When Seth just looked at him in confusion, Peter elaborated, "They've been seeing each other for a few weeks. I suspect they were having a quickie."

Seth made a face. "And that just hit my too much information meter. Okay, crossing them off the list. Which leaves us three suspects. Any way we can cross any of the others off?"

Peter shook his head. "Not that I know of. Can't you like...I don't know...sniff out the other vampire?"

"I'm a vampire, not a blood hound. No, I can't sniff out the other vampire." Seth sighed. "I might be able to tell if it's him or her if there's still blood on his or her clothes."

Peter stood up. "Then we'd better hurry. The cops shut us down for the rest of the day until they finished their picture-taking or what have you. Everyone's going to be taking off as soon as they get cleared."

"Susan first then. She'll be putting away the costumes of the extras," Seth decided.

The two men went around the main set where members of the CSI team were still processing the scene although Celia's body had been removed. Luckily it was possible for them to get to the costuming department without actually walking through the set. Seth didn't bother knocking, but just entered the room. As a member of the cast, he was often in and out of the room for fittings, to pick up clothes, or just to check out what he would be wearing in future episodes. Susan wouldn't think anything of him entering. Besides he was still wearing the jeans from the earlier scene and he needed to turn them in. Peter shut the door behind them as he followed Seth into the room. Susan looked up from where she was cataloging the clothes she had taken back from the extras. "Seth, how are you? Did you need something?" she asked with a sad smile.

"I'm doing all right, Sue. I need to turn my jeans in and get my clothes back," he explained. She nodded and got to her feet, going over to a small locker where she stored clothes for the actors who had changed in her room. "Did the police question you?" Seth asked as he stripped off the jeans he had been wearing and accepted his khakis from her.

She looked at him and then quickly averted her eyes when she realized he was standing there with no pants on. "The one detective. The African-American one? He questioned me for a few minutes, but I was in here during the break. Three of the extras ripped their clothes during that last stunt with you and I was emergency stitching their clothes."

Seth quickly pulled his khakis on and buttoned them up as he replied, "I'm glad you didn't get questioned for long. Do you have much more work to do?"

She shook her head. "Just have to log in your clothes and then I can go home. I guess we're off for a few days, Peter?"

The director nodded. "The cops said we'd get a call when we could have the set again. Hopefully it won't be long."

She waved her hands at the two men. "Out then. If I get these logged in, then I can go home and actually eat dinner with my kids tonight."

Seth kissed her cheek quickly, smiling at her blush and noting that the only blood he smelled on her was what was in her body, before following Peter out of the room. As they started down the hall, Peter asked, "Well?"

"She didn't do it," Seth confirmed. "No blood scent and she wasn't lying about what she was doing."

"Jason or Sully next?" Peter asked.

"Jason since he's probably running through the rest of the stunts we were supposed to do," Seth replied. Peter nodded and followed the actor outside.

When he could, the stunt coordinator preferred to work through the stunts outside. Seth blinked as he entered the bright sunlight and slipped on a pair of sunglasses that had been stored in his pants' pockets. He paused for a few minutes and looked around the back lot, trying to locate Jason and his team. The six foot six man was standing on top of a block of wood watching as the group of men worked through the fight scene that they had been planning to film that afternoon. Someone was standing in for Seth and, the actor noticed, doing a pretty good job of it. Jason turned as the two men approached. "Hey, boss, Seth," he greeted them.

"You got a minute, Jay?" Peter asked.

Jason nodded and hopped down off the block of wood. "Take fifteen, guys," he called to his team. The stunt guys stripped off their gear and dropped it on the mat, then scattered. Jason turned to the two men that had approached him. He towered over both of them, even though Peter was six foot even, Seth was only five foot five inches. In his time, he had been average height, but now he found he was on the shorter end of the scale. He knew despite appearances he was stronger than the taller man so he was not intimidated. "What's going on?" he asked when the rest of the team was out of hearing.

"You didn't eat lunch with the rest of the crew," Peter started.

Jason shrugged, muscle rippling under his tight shirt. "I don't always. I was talking to Celia for a few minutes about the stunt because she was concerned about being in the way of flying guys. Then I went to check on the breakaway walls for tomorrow's stunt. I talked to Dean about making the walls a little easier to break. We had trouble last time."

Peter nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Jay."

Seth could smell the blood on him and he stepped closer. "What time did you see Celia?"

Jason frowned. "Time, I'm not sure, but it was right after Peter called cut. I was on set during the filming and she grabbed me as everyone scattered."

"Were you just fighting with the others?" Seth asked as he pressed even closer.

Jason stepped back involuntarily. "Yeah. Of course. One of the guys got a lucky punch in and I cut my lip. Why? Can you see the blood?"

Seth realized he was making the stunt co-coordinator nervous, despite being so much shorter and he backed off. "Yeah," he lied. "Just a little. You might want to clean it off."

Jason wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "Okay, I will once we're finished running the routine again." He nodded at the group as they came walking back. "You want to run through it with us once?"

Seth shook his head. "Not right now. I suspect someone's going to be doing a massive re-write in the morning."

Peter sighed. "Yes, I've already put a call into Joe." He put a hand on Seth's arm. "Come on, let's finish making the rounds. Jason, finish up with your team and then you can call it a night."

"Thanks, boss," the young man replied before turning his attention back to the group.

When they were out of earshot, Peter turned to Seth. "So it's Sully."

Seth nodded. "I'm going to confront him. I want you out of this." When Peter started to protest, he overrode him, "I don't want to have to worry about you while I'm dealing with him." He locked eyes with the director and allowed his voice to darken, deepen and his mesmerizing to bleed into his eyes. "Go to your car. Get in it. Drive home. Do not return until the police tell you the matter is taken care of." Seth watched as Peter pulled his keys out of his pocket and without even saying good-bye drifted in the direction of the parking lot. The vampire watched for a few moments to make sure that Peter really was leaving.

Then he went in search of his prey.

Sully was sitting in the chair where he had posed Celia, playing with a wooden stake. "It took you long enough to figure out," he said as Seth entered the set area.

Seth paused, studying what was in front of him. Sully was taller than him, which meant he was younger so Seth knew he would have better control over the beast inside. But Sully was armed with a stake, the one thing Seth feared above all else. His maker had been killed by a stake before his eyes when he was a young vampire and although there were other ways to kill him, it was the stake he feared dying by. Sully was relaxing against the back of the chair Celia had been in and Seth could smell the blood from where he stood. "Why did you kill her?" he asked. "She was a pain in the ass, but she wasn't dangerous."

Sully shrugged and as Seth moved closer, he could see the coldness in the other vampire's eyes. "She was annoying me." He put a finger in his mouth and slurped on it. "She was delicious."

Seth narrowed his eyes. He wouldn't be able to mesmerize the other vampire, Sully was too strong-willed for it to work, but maybe he could move a little faster. "So you would expose us all because one girl annoyed you?"

Sully waved the stake. "I didn't expose anything. The cops think it's someone playing a prank. Someone overly in love with Hawke's Night who decided they were a vampire."

Seth chose that moment to put on a burst of speed. He rushed the younger vampire, bowling him over and taking both the chair and the vampire down.

The two vampires rolled over and over on the floor biting and snarling at each other. Sully used his longer reach to hold the stake out of the grip of Seth and tried to push the older vampire off him. Seth snarled in response and sunk his fangs into Sully's arm, ripping an hunk of skin free. He spit the flesh out, gagging on the taste. Sully howled in pain and balled up his fist, decking Seth in the mouth.

Seth spun backwards, but he managed to get a hand on the stake and pulled it away as he fell. He flipped himself over and stabbed downwards, catching Sully in the side. The younger vampire grabbed the stake, but Seth pulled it free and stabbed him again, catching him in the heart this time. He held it down, waiting until the last of Sully's death throes faded. Falling backwards on his ass, he pushed his brown hair out of his eyes. He looked over the scene of the fight. It was obvious that he had been fighting with Sully and they had made a mess of the set. He nodded to himself. He wouldn't even need to stage the scene.

Pulling his cell out of his pocket, he dialed the police. When he was connected to the detective he had spoken to earlier, he announced, "I've got your killer, Detective Groves, but he attacked me and I had to kill him. You might want to send a team over here to get the body." Then he snapped the phone shut and settled down to await the fireworks.