Once Bitten: A Vampire Novella

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Once Bitten

          Vampires exist. Crosses and garlic only stun them like deer caught in the proverbial headlights, but silver and holy water can kill them. Holy water in large enough doses can kill them as easily as the traditional stake through the heart or sunlight. I prefer silver usually in the form of silver bullets, but I carry a sword, silver spikes, and a stake as back-ups as well as little incendiary devices. Fire while not fatal is quite debilitating. Silver bullets are also useful when dealing with lycanthropes, commonly referred to as werewolves and other were-animals.
         You might ask if I see a lot of them - were-animals and vampires. I do in fact, but you've got to be really lucky or unlucky depending on your point of view. These creatures have lived for centuries among man both in peace and hunting them. The Undead come in many forms; some are the overdramatized vampires who've seen too many Dracula films while others are the brutal killers who have long since come to the forgone conclusion that the human race is nothing more than cattle.
         I will tell you up front that I am NOT Buffy the Vampire Slayer; I was not born, created, or destined by genetic heritage to kill vampires, I sort of just fell into the job...
         I was born on the eleventh day of November in the year of our Lord seventeen hundred and thirty -one. I died on the sixteenth day of April, seventeen hundred and forty-six, on the mist-shrouded moor of Culloden; the last battle ever fought on the isle of Britain. I died so that my Aunt Brianna MacAran, the MacAran of theClan MacAran, might live.
         The Fates, or the Moirai, brought me back nearly three hundred years later, and far from home in a city called Seattle. For the first fifteen years of my new life, I lived thinking I was like everyone else, but I'm not. I'm an Avatar, a servant of the Moirai. And I kill vampires. My name is Glorianna Marie Louise Frasier-MacKenzie Campbell Munro ab MacAran, though I usually go by just Arianna Munro. Those I hunt have given me another name though, The Phoenix.

***********
Seattle, the near future
         The sky was becoming a pale lavender in color and the clouds were a vivid, uncapturable shade of crimson, they glowed with what could only be described as the blood of Angels. The wind smelled of rain mingled with the promise of snow behind it, and the dead leaves danced to the invisible piper's pipe. The girl tall, lean, pale with lanky brown hair wore a torn black trenchcoat, collar upturned against the wind. She was hunched over, perhaps it was to protect her from the bone-chilling wind or maybe it was due to the weight of the black canvas backpack tattooed with symbols and band patches. Her black army boots, scuffed and worn, made no sound on the uneven pavement.
          Suddenly, the shadows pull together and solidify into a pale, elegant form of a man. Tall. Dark. Aristocratic. Born it seemed of a different age. He too was dressed in black, only his was an elegant three piece suit, shiny black patent leather shoes, and a long, black wool coat that reached almost to the cuffs of his suit pants. He smiles as he follows her soundlessly, nearly gliding, and the light from the street lamp above reflect off his twin, pearly fangs.
         The rain had begun to fall again and the girl pulled her collar higher and hunkered over more. Her lanky brown hair nearly touching the cracked and broken pavement. Her arms, the leather of her coat stretched tight over them, were wrapped around her middle as she plodded onward. She was blissfully unaware that Death with a smile was following her. As she turned down the darkened alley, hoping to save sometime on her trek home, he struck. In a blur of ivory and silk. She had no time to scream. No time to react.
         When he was done, he left her there among the refuse, because that was what she was to him now. Warmed by the blood from her veins he walked down the street, his footfalls soundless upon the pavement. He whistled La Belle Dame Sans Merci.

         The sunlight was just cresting the Cascades, rising slowly from the East, when a homeless man found her. Pale and serene in her death save for two small savage marks on her throat and the few drops of blood marring her now colorless skin. The police had quardoned off the alley entrance, just off Pioneer Square, by the time I arrived. I'd heard on the police scanner about the peculiarities of the crime and had decided to investigate.
         The smell of Death was thick in the alley. Death has an earthy, cloying smell far richer than the oily, decaying smell normal humans associate with it does. I smelled the girl and the residue of fear mingled with blood. I smelled the walking Death as well. The vampire smelled like the Armani suit and Ralph Lauren's Romance type.
         "Munro, didn't know you were back in town." Detective Angelo, a bear of man in his early forties with a voice that hadn't lost its thick Bronx accent despite having lived in Seattle for the last quarter century.
         "Just. Heard there was something funny about the girl's death and decided to investigate."
         "Looks like bite marks to me, but if the Captain asks I'm saying her attacker was human. I got a year to go before I retire, and I'm not going out with a reputation as a wacko. Besides, I'll leave that supernatural, paranormal mumbo-jumbo to you."
         "Vampire." I said kneeling down and surveying the girl. She was young, no more than twenty-five I figured. Death had made her already pale skin nearly translucent. Her brown hair was haloed around her head, framing the two savage bite marks that marred the smooth expanse of skin on her throat. The scene showed little sign of struggle, which meant he probably had followed her and had waited for the right opportunity to strike. Poor girl, probably hadn't known what hit her.

          The sky had turned a blood red, contrasting with the bruise colored clouds. The grass was heavy with dew and the breeze was bone chilling. The cemetery was silent as I walked between the tombstones towards the rows of
mausoleums. Vampires don't necessarily need crypts or even need to sleep underground; I'd once taken out a nest of vampires that had been residing in the penthouse of a fifteenth century townhouse that had currently been serving as a hotel in a small French town outside of Paris.
         I had a feeling though that this vampire went for the whole Dracula effect; the crypt, the coffin with dirt from his homeland in it, and when it came to changing forms probably stuck to the traditional mist, bat, and wolf. So far it looked like he would follow the same M.O. too; that of snacking only on pretty young women.
He was probably an upscale dresser to boot.
          I choose the cemetery up on Queen Anne Hill since the graves would be the oldest and there probably wouldn't be anyone around to complain if the family crypt suddenly got an extra tenant for however long Fang was thinking of staying in town, or at least until I managed to track his sorry, dead ass down and send to him to Hell on the end of a stake. Just one thing first though, I had to find him and hopefully, before anyone else got killed, or worse.
          The crypts in the first and second row were undisturbed but one in the third row had a broken door. Unfortunately, no one was home from what I could tell and the smell of Death wasn't fresh. If any vampire had been staying there, they hadn't for awhile now. The last row yielded pay dirt with an expertly jimmied door that I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't smelled blood and Death.
          Unfortunately, it looked like nobody was home. I could wait until he came back before dawn, but I didn't feel like sitting around the entire night. The girl had been killed in Pioneer Square, which meant that I'd need to check the area within about a ten-mile radius of the crypt. Downtown was too risky so he'd stick to Pioneer Square or maybe go as far north as the Central district. I headed back to where I had parked my motorcycle and figured I'd cruise up Broadway and then hit Central before cruising down through Pioneer Square and completing the circuit back to the cemetery.
          As long as I was back before dawn I would find out if the vampire I was looking for was actually staying here. If not, I might get a lead on him and get in some exercise while I was at it. It had been almost a year since I'd killed a vampire and about six months since I'd taken on anything more than a human. Oh well, it was probably like riding a bike, I thought with a laugh as I gunned the black Ninja.
          This I know for sure, tonight was not my night. Three bars in Central and several dark alleys in Pioneer Square later, I was back in the little cemetery in Queen Anne. The crypt held the chill of death and I was thankful that I didn't have to worry about the cold as I waited for dawn and the vampire's return. The two coffins in the mausoleum were from Seattle's early days; I had noticed some of their descendants out in the cemetery on my way in and wondered why they too had not been housed in the family crypt. Perhaps they hadn't wanted to share Eternity with the Victorian patriarchs of their line.
         I thought back to the young girl and wondered where she would be laid to rest. I shook myself, the cold settling around me more with the darkness of my thoughts. Then I heard it; the crunch of gravel outside of the crypt. My hand went to one of the Desert Eagles strapped to my legs. The sound was uncharacteristic of an older vampire and I figured the one responsible had
to be a couple hundred years old to have killed so
neatly and without a trace besides the fang marks.
Shoes crunched on gravel again, closer this time to the crypt, and I crouched behind one of the coffins, poised and ready.
         I stayed crouched behind the coffin in the half-light of the crypt, listening as the sound of someone approaching grew louder and nearer. I took a deep breath as I felt the first burst of adrenaline hit me. My senses opened and the room suddenly became clearer, the sounds sharper, more distinct, the smell of death and decay intensified. Then I heard a giggle; utterly
feminine and surely mid-teens. Just like that, the
alertness and the adrenaline rush faded as though I had just dove into an ice-cold pool. I realized that I hadn't smelled, even in those few seconds of acute awareness, the distinct odor of the Undead.
         It was probably just a few high schoolers out for a good time. The old spook the girl then have a few heated moments "comforting" her in the back seat of your parents' car sort of date. I holstered the Desert Eagle and moved out from behind the coffin, all the while silently cursing myself that I was losing my touch. However, no sooner had I thought that, that
there was a rather unearthly - well, not quite
unearthly, more like a 1950s, B-movie horror flick, blood-curdling, very definitely female scream from somewhere in the cemetery. The scream was accompanied by the raised, I don't think men can truly be said to scream or even shriek, but what I heard was at least two men doing the male equivalent of screaming bloody murder.
         This time I drew both pistols as I burst from the crypt and headed off in the direction that the screams had come from. The moon peeking through the dark clouds guided my way as I dashed through the cemetery, hurdling tombstones when necessary as I hoped against the inevitable death scene that I would come upon. My only thought was that the Vampire would be too "punch drunk" to have left the scene so quickly.
         I entered a grove to see two bodies, both male it appeared on the ground and the girl in the clutches of a third male; tall and dark dressed all in black. I didn't hesitate; I fired a round from each pistol. Unfortunately, vampires have really quick reflexes and if they can, can change shape quickly. Silver bullets have no obvious effects on a vampire when they become mist as this one did.
         There's obviously some minute pain when silver passes "through" their "bodies" but its insignificant compared to the pain of it tearing and then lodging itself in their flesh.
         Fortunately, I'd been standing at an angle so that the girl was unharmed by the bullets when the vampire escaped. I was almost sure that this was the vampire that had killed the girl in Pioneer Square the other night. The two males were alive, unconscious and for the most part unharmed which only confirmed my suspicions since what vampire would pass up a free meal? One that obviously preferred pretty young females to any other food source, and the girl had practically been hand-delivered to him.
         She was shaken; crying and rocking herself hysterically. I holstered the Desert Eagles and pulled my cell phone out of one of my coat pockets and called Detective Angelo's cell. Three rings later, there was a gruff, "Angelo."
         "Pulling graveyard are you? Ironically, enough I need you to meet me in the little cemetery up in Queen Anne and you might want to call the paramedics too." I said hanging up and turning back to the girl who was now hiccuping as she tried to stop crying.
         "Are you all right?" I asked taking off my coat and wrapping it around her. She jumped at the contact and I got a fleeting sense of her fear and the scene that had proceeded this one. The boys had been no match for a vampire who could toss them around like they were a couple of sticks. Through her eyes the vampire had been
the epitome of the phrase; tall, dark and handsome. Coal black hair with wisps hanging across his brow, an aristocratic nose and mouth, a cleft in his strong chin, smooth white skin that still held the golden tone of one who had spent a lifetime outdoors, and eyes the color of a clear summer day; piercing blue. My breath
sucked in at the oh-so comely visage of Death.
         The girl buried herself in my arms and in an awkward need to comfort I pulled her close to my left side and rubbed her back with my right hand. She was numb from shock so her mental defenses were up making it impossible for me to read her, which was a good thing. I heard sirens but they were still some distance away. The boys began to rouse, groaning and rolling onto their sides.
         At least no one had been seriously hurt, or so I thought, as I smelled blood. Pulling aside the girl's golden curtain of silken hair I saw the twin marks on her neck, still slowly seeping blood. I touched them gently, sushing her as she cried out, then I concentrated on them; heating and healing the wound, "I need you to sit down, I've got to clean this," I said as I pulled a vial of holy water out of another of my coat pockets, "I won't lie; this is going to hurt like Hell."
         I uncorked the vial of holy water and the girl stared at it, "It's holy water; the wound needs to be cleansed."
         "How bad will it hurt?" She asked her voice reed-thin and wavering.
         "It'll feel like acid at first but once it's clean just like water. Take a deep breath, now." I said as I began to pour. The girl's breath hissed out between her teeth but she didn't scream. By the time Angelo and the EMTs arrived the wound was clean and the girl was sitting with the two boys.
         I stood off in the trees but Angelo came right over,"Same thing as the other night?"
         "Yes, I know what he looks like now. I would have had him too if he hadn't changed into mist. Bad thing is he'll probably change locations; he won't come back here since he knows that I know where he lives now."
         Angelo looked briefly at the two Desert Eagles strapped to my thighs, "Christ, Lara Croft meets..." He looked at me and stopped, "I won't say it, but that's what you are - a vampire slayer. Of course, I would never tell anyone else that. I'm not going to ask if you have a permit for those."
         "Don't worry, I've got all the necessary little papers. I wore the leg holsters tonight because they're easier to get to than the back holsters or even my shoulder holster. I gotta fly; there's a club I want to hit before dawn. Might get a bead on where our friend might be holing up for the day."

         Surprisingly enough there's a demon bar in the Pike Place Market. Not so surprising is that no normal human being knows it's there. That's easily explained though; they're warded. If the average human were to say have even an inclining that something other than a wall was
there then they'd suddenly remember something they had to do or an appointment they had forgotten.
         Club Inferno is such a club down in the lower levels of the Market, maybe you know the spot. I passed through said wall and was immediately assaulted by the smell as well as the bartender, a very nasty were-cat if I wasn't mistaken. Apparently, it was that time of the year. "You are not welcome here." He hissed.
         I smiled, "Don't worry, I'm not staying long. Where's Eddie?"
         "No harm can come to him while he is here."
         "Good, now where is he?"
         The were-cat all but snarled and jerked his head toward the dimly lit back of the bar.
         Eddie was a young vampire. Well, he was young. Period. He was born into death it seemed at the beginning of the nineties and living in Seattle he seemed to be stuck in the grunge period. His dirty blond hair was a little too long and had been without a comb it seemed
for sometime. His skin still held scars from acne,
although Death is the ultimate acne fighter. His eyes were a dull brown that seemed at odds with the rest of his face. I spotted him in a booth with a female, a lycanthrope I was guessing since she lacked the smell of death that vampires carry with them. She might even have been some form of human-demon mix, but I really wasn't interested in finding out, "Eddie, long time no see." I said sweetly.
         If vampires could pale, then Eddie paled, "Aw, shit. Munro, I can't talk to you." He moved but I was quicker.
         "You don't seem to be having any problems
conversing with me at the moment," I said grabbing him by the collar, I gave the girl a look and she made for parts unknown. Then I continued, "I'm looking for someone. A
Draculaesque vampire. Probably just got into town.
Likes pretty young women enough to turn down free meals if they're male. Any ideas on who he is or where he's staying?"
         "I talk, I'm dead."
         "You're all ready dead, so talk."
         Eddie looked around and then motioned for me to sit in the booth with my back to the crowd, not something I like doing, but if I got what I wanted it would be worth it. "The vampire you're looking for is old. Heard he's the real Dracula; got Bram Stoker to write about him and all. Been in town about a week now. Don't know where he's staying."
         "Does he have a name?" I asked, Eddie wasn't telling me anything I didn't all ready know.
         "Duncan Bellamy." Eddie responded nervously looking around.
         Dark Warrior. Handsome. I thought mentally dissecting his name, French Gaelic, probably originally from the province of Brittany in France. I smiled and Eddie shrank into the upholstery, realizing I was frightening him I pulled two twenties from my wallet and handed
them over to him, "Thank you, Eddie. If you see
Bellamy tell him I look forward to having more of a conversation the next time I see him."
         "You've seen him?!" Eddie squeaked.
         I smiled again and rose to leave, "Yes, I met him in the cemetery up on Queen Anne earlier tonight. I think I may have evicted him from his current residence." I waded through the crowd leaving Eddie sitting there in his disbelief. I nodded to the bartender and then I walked out and into the Market. I did the only thing I could think of next and that was heading home to sleep.
         My head had no sooner hit the pillow that I was out like a light. When dreams came I felt a pull and went with it. I found myself in an all too familiar white room. The one piece of furniture in it was a large loom with an in-progress tapestry on it.
         "You came," "We" "Have been" "Trying to" "Reach you" "For sometime." Came three distinct voices with one thought. They were my employers, the three sisters, the Moirai.
         Clotho was the eldest, the tallest, and the prettiest with hair the color of white gold, lapis blue eyes and the willowy figure of a ballerina. She spins the thread of Life, and she always speaks first. Lachesis was next, with hair the color of golden flame, and eyes like sapphires, her head came to her elder sister's
chin and like her sister she too possessed the lean, graceful body of a dancer. She measures the thread and always speaks second. Last in all things is Atropos; her hair was the color of dried wheat, a light golden brown and she had a petite womanly figure compared to her sisters. It was she who cut the thread and she always got the last word. Her most arresting feature was her eyes, for they were pale blue and blind. Together, they weave the tapestry of Life that connects all life, immortal and mortal.
         "I've been avoiding you, but I know I need your help."
         "That is" "Not how" "It works." They said crossing their arms.
         "This time it's going to be; there's a vampire in Seattle - I need your help to get him,"
         "His name is" "Duncan Bellamy" "We think" "You should" "Leave this" "One, alone."
         "Okay, stop that. One of you speaks not all of you. I know you can and what is it about Bellamy that makes you want to steer me away from him?"
         Clotho stepped forward, staring me right in the eye, "You have met Bellamy before, though you don't remember. We intervened."
         "What do you mean, you intervened?" I asked suddenly defensive.
         "We mean that we've sent you after Bellamy before and he nearly killed you. We intervened a time before that, before you joined us, we saved you then because we knew you had the potential to be the One; the Avatar that when the time comes will be the deciding factor in the last battle between good and evil. In the time before you were nearly Bellamy's eighth victim in Edinburgh, in 1521."
         "1521? I wasn't born until 1731! I know you've sent me to different times but now you're saying I've lived lives I don't remember having lived?"
         "Yes." They all said at once again and I
glared.
         "How do I beat him? Better yet, what happened the second time I encountered him?"
         "We sent you back to help a writer investigating stories of a night stalker who was praying on young women in a region of Romania called Transylvania. This time we were a little late in sending you back and the writer witnessed an attack as well as your attempt to destroy Bellamy. We wiped his memory along with yours,
but the process drove him mad. The book he penned from what he recalled of the encounter has become famous; the writer was Bram Stoker and the book was Dracula."
         "Dracula?" I gasped, "You must be
kidding, but if this guy only goes after young women why did he go after Bram Stoker?" I asked, my mind racing.
         "Stoker was getting too close, Bellamy couldn't risk being exposed. Stoker was to be Bellamy's Renfield."
         I laughed, in spite of myself, "The ravings of a mad Irishman. So, how do I stop him?"
         "You don't, we suggest you leave this alone. We will find someone else to handle this."
         "Oh no, I want this one."
         "We" "Cannot" "Interfere." They said as a chorus once more.
         "So, I'm on my own?"
         "Yes." They said in surround sound.
         I awoke with a start, my sheets were stuck to me and I grimaced in disgust. I got out of bed and stripped off my sticky silk nightgown before sliding back beneath the silver silk sheets. The sheets dried quickly from my elevated body temperature; I have to be careful normally since my actual body temperature is one hundred and eight point six degrees. It's taken me years to learn how to lower it and keep it at a steady
ninety-eight point six degrees. I could technically get away with shorts and a tank top all year round but people tend to give you funny looks if that's all you're wearing when it's below freezing outside. So, I've learned to fit in and go unnoticed which makes my job all the easier.
         I looked at the clock on my nightstand; it read 8:34 AM. I'd been in bed for only three hours and I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep anymore. Groaning, I got out of bed, showered, and headed downstairs for breakfast. Afterwards, I'd hit the pool and then the gym to work off some of last night's tension.
         Feeling considerably looser and genuinely tired, I crawled back into bed after another shower around ten o'clock and slept until four in the afternoon. I awoke feeling as close to human as I can feel any given day. The joys of being only two-thirds human; I'm always warm, never sick, and I'm self-healing. The downside is
I have to be extremely careful since I can't donate blood for obvious reasons let alone go to a hospital. You see, certain sections of my DNA have the distinct look of a triple helix to them, and then there's the fact that I have twenty-two base pairs, eighteen more than all the life of Earth has or is suppose to have. I'm sure some lab would just love to get their hands on
me and dissect me like a frog - ugh, what a thought. One good thing is that little anomaly makes my DNA unclonable, at least until they figure out how to synthesize those eighteen extra pairs, so I don't have to worry about an army of super soldier clones of me.
         I dressed in my usual attire of black boot-cut jeans and a tight black t-shirt with a black cable sweater on top of that. I was going to pay a visit to Detective Angelo and see what he had on the girl in Pioneer Square and if the trio from the cemetery had been of any help to the case.
         The moon was just starting to rise; the sky had turned a faded purple as I entered the 8th District precinct house in hopes of catching Angelo just as he was just coming on shift. The station was relatively quiet and smelled of disinfectant and stale beer, a nearly nauseating combination. I wended my way upstairs, mildly surprised at the lack of security. "Hell,
they'll let anybody in here." Angelo muttered,
reading my mind as he poured coffee from a carafe on a table near the staircase. Apparently, he was used to bad coffee since he poured an obscene amount of half-n-half and enough sugar into the small twelve-ounce cup to put a class of kindergartners into orbit. "Peterson makes
coffee that tastes like battery acid and has the
consistency of motor oil, but its got the caffeine kick in spades." He said noticing where my gaze was at the moment. He turned and headed towards his desk, I followed, "You're here about the girl in Pioneer Square, right?" He asked sitting at his desk and then digging through a large stack of file folders to find the one he was looking for.
         I nodded sitting on the corner of the desk sandwiched next to his, "Her name was Paige Henley and until the earthquake last February she worked at the Fenix down in the Square. Played guitar and sang in a rock band called Chrysalis. She was twenty, a sophomore at Seattle University up on Capital Hill. She's originally from Boston but she's lived out here the last two years. We're still trying to get in touch with her
father in Boston, no luck so far.
         I synthesized what I had just learned about the girl. Musician. Student. Dead. What a waste. "Did he leave us anything?" I asked finally.
         "No, nothing but her body drained of blood and what look like fang marks on her neck." He looked at me then held his hand up for silence, "Don't say it. I refuse to believe that things that go bump in the night actually exist. Just get this monster before I have to tell someone else their daughter is dead." I nodded
solemnly and turned to leave. "Munro, be careful.
I'd hate to have to call your family."
         I smiled as I left the precinct; I'd love to hear what my Aunt Brianna would say if she knew that I was still alive. Being immortal herself, I might get a little understanding but after burying me over two hundred years ago, she might be a little mad that I hadn't notified the family of my resurrection. My father, Aunt Bri's older brother, Jamie would probably be overjoyed
at my return from the grave. Scottish clans are a
little overzealous when it comes to family, which is why I've kept myself out of their lives since I came back to the land of the living. I didn't need them worrying about me, I'd chosen my path and they'd chosen theirs. I never truly thought of myself as a MacAran anyway, I was a bastard by birth, the product of a youthful indiscretion.

         The light was just starting to fade as the girl, packages in hand, left Nordstrom's and started to walk up Sixth Avenue past Old Navy and Niketown. She turned onto Seneca after passing Park Place, as she started up the street she heard a sound behind her in Freeway Park, but thought nothing of it. It was just after six
and growing steadily darker by the minute. Then there were footsteps behind her, a shadow touching hers, and she walked faster, suddenly afraid.
         Her curtain of black hair fell long, shiny like silk down her back, almost to her waist, in stark contrast to her white dress shirt. Her black boots clicked on the pavement as she crossed the street by the Town Hall. Her bags brushed against her black pants, banging against her knees. She slowed, readjusting her bags. Just as she was going to turn onto Spring Street, he
struck in the shadows of the trees near the Nettleton apartments. Her pale skin, ruby lips, and her brown eyes; he memorized all of these, careful not to mar her beauty, her innocence. He left her there, lifeless, her bags scattered around her. He walked away, happy and smiling; she had pleased him.
         An hour later, a scream. An old woman who lived in the Lowell, took her little Pekinese out had found her. Nell Ramsey had been two blocks from home; it was her twenty-second birthday.

         "How soon can you be at Eighth and Spring?" Angelo asked as soon as I answered my cell phone.
         I was in Pioneer Square, hoping against the odds I would run into the nightstalker. Judging from Angelo's tone my luck hadn't held. I glanced at my watch, "Ten minutes." I walked the block back to my Ninja and gunned it; heading for Capital Hill as if the Devil himself were after me.
         The scene was surreal. An old crone; head in pink hot curlers and blue shower cap stood to the side of the yellow tape clad in a tattered green terry bath robe clutching a rat dog as she gave her statement to a harried detective in a wrinkled, UPS brown colored suit. The coroner stood documenting the scene which was strewn with shopping bags; Nordstrom's, the Bon Marche,
Victoria's Secret, and Barnes & Noble. I reached for the bag with morbid curiosity to see what she had been looking forward to reading. "That's evidence." Angelo's gruff voice barked as he came up behind me.
         "Sorry, just curious." I said with a shrug.
         Angelo flipped open his notebook, "A black cashmere sweater from Nordy's, a Clinique gift set from the Bon, a pink negligee and other pieces of intimate apparel from Victoria's, and from B&N, Linda Howard's Open Season and Laurell K. Hamilton's Guilty Pleasures, the first book in the Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter series. Her name is Nell Ramsey; she lived just up the street on Marion and 9th at the Envoy. Today's...was her twenty-second birthday. She worked as a secretary in Columbia Tower." I nodded and went over to the body, lifting the cloth I looked at her, and a few seconds later lowered it once more. Sad.
         Anita Blake, vampire hunter. The irony. She buys a book on a vampire hunter and gets to be a victim of a real life vampire. If there is a God he has a twisted sense of humor. "Hey Angelo, what about the girl from the cemetery?" I asked rising and looking up the hill toward 9th.
         "What about her?" He asked turning to look
at me.
         "Just some information. I'd like to talk to her."
         Angelo flipped back through his notebook, "Shelley Bycee, 17, home schooled. Lives about five blocks from the cemetery. Dad's some kind of high power attorney; you're not going to be able to get to her without going through him. I wish you the best of luck." He
saluted me and then climbed into his car.
         I was half-tempted to give the one finger salute in return but decided that would only be petty and degrading. I settled instead for using the phone directory on my cell phone to get an address for the Bycees in Queen Anne. It was late Saturday night, so I figured if the case was still without any leads by Monday morning that I'd see if Daddy would let me to talk to Shelley.
         I was heading home when a thought struck me out of the blue - Renfield. If this guy...err vampire kept to pattern he must have a Renfield somewhere. Certainly, not at the cemetery, I would have smelled him. Renfields tend to smell like an unhealthy synthesis of Undead and man, not at all pleasant. Most humans would recognize a Renfield as someone who has a really bad case of body odor. That's usually the only time they
would ever get a whiff of what a real vampire smells like, that icky-sweet odor. The Renfield in Bram Stoker's Dracula is an extreme stereotype; they very rarely eat bugs and for the most part can function rather well in society. Although, I will admit most eventually end up in a mental hospital, but that's more of an occupational hazard. One can only imagine how
hard it is to work for the Undead, let alone having to volunteer yourself as a snack when you're employer has to skip a meal or he/she wants to test your loyalty. A high stress job, indeed. Vampires rarely pick mental patients as Renfields, the unpredictability of the help, and even in the normal world good help is so---hard to find. Yes, I must really see if I can track down Bellamy's Renfield, maybe then I'd get some
idea of how to stop him.
         I headed to Club Inferno on a hunch, the bartender was no happier to see me this time than he had before. His malevolent gaze followed me though he remained planted behind the bar. My senses were on full alert, but Renfield stuck out like a sore thumb in a bar filled with demons, vampires and were-animals. His Hawaiian shirt was wrinkled and faded and his khaki shorts had seen better days. His eyes traveled the room intermittently as though at any moment the demonic
horde was going to break bar edict and devour him.
         I sauntered over to his table. His gaze locked onto me about halfway across the bar. I smiled in what I hoped was a non-threatening, seductive manner. "Is this seat taken?" I asked trying to sound as interested as possible.
         His Adam's apple bobbed beneath his pale, pasty skin, his washed out blue eyes becoming the size of saucers, and his hands went to his greasy, overly long, dirty blond hair. I looked again at the seat and then back into his eyes, hoping I wouldn't have to repeat myself. He gulped again and his mouth worked, but no sound came out. He swallowed, tried again, but still no sound issued forth, and finally he just nodded.
         "I'm Ari." I said in way of introduction,
keeping it simple for my, at present, vocally challenged friend.
         "Would you like something to drink?" He finally managed after taking a long pull of his umbrella-capped drink.
         "A whiskey, straight. And your name is?"
         "Oh, Winston Weatherly-Cohen, the third." he practically squeaked.
         "Nice to meet you, Winston. May I call you Stan? Winston sounds awful prudish, you aren't a prude are you, Stan?" I asked leaning back seductively; one arm over the back to the chair, pulling the all ready tight black t-shirt even more firmly over my breasts.
         His eyes bugged out again and I was nearly certain he was in danger of swallowing his tongue. He gulped and tried to return his gaze to my eyes but his head seemed to have suddenly become too heavy for his neck to support. "Yeah. Not a prude. Stan's fine." He muttered and was saved further embarrassment by the waitress, a
were-cat, if I wasn't mistaken, scantily dressed in a tight black leather vest and mini skirt with thigh-high black leather boots to match. She seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. He handed her his empty glass and I ordered my whiskey since I didn't think Stan had the words to spare.
         She nodded and sashayed over to the bar. The bartender leaned forward and I had the distinct impression she was giving him more than just our drink orders. She returned with our drinks and a smile before sauntering off to the next waiting table. Stan took a long pull from his drink, "So, what's a girl like you doing
in a place like this?" He finally asked, nearly causing me to choke on the pour excuse for whiskey.
         "I was just about to ask you the same
thing." I said trying my best to sound like the coy females I despise.
         "Oh, I work for a vampire, if you know what I mean."
         "You're a driver? No, a donor, right?"
         "Even better, I'm an assistant, or a Renfield as we're more commonly called."
         "After that bug-eating guy from Dracula? Cool." I said trying to sound excited.
         "Yes, so what brings you here? You don't look like any of the "groupies" either."
         Finally, able to drop the charade, I smiled, "Actually, you're the reason, Renfield."
         Stan made to bolt but I grabbed his arm and slung him back into his chair, "I've got a date with Bellamy, his funeral." I was still smiling although I can assure you
it wasn't a warm smile.
         "Phoenix." Stan sputtered, "No. You
can't hurt me here."
         I could all but hear him repeating that to himself mentally like a mantra, "We both know you'll have to leave at dawn when the bar closes. I can always wait outside and find out what I want to know then. Or you can just tell me where Bellamy is and no one has to know this conversation ever took place."
         He downed the rest of his drink as though that would get him out of his predicament. "I can't. He'll kill me."
         "Not if I kill you first."
         He paled, if that's possible, "You wouldn't get what you want if you kill me." His mind was working furiously.
         "I just might." I hoped I wouldn't have to
use my psychic trump card.
         His Adam's apple bobbed furiously and his eyes darted around the bar; "He went into Pioneer Square again tonight. Try around S. Main Street; lots of dark alleys and there are a few late nightclubs, lots of potentials. I don't know where he's been sleeping, he just sends for me, sort of like a trance. I don't know where I've been only that I've been there and whatever
he had me do."
         "Thanks. Oh, and if I find out you're lying you'd better hope Bellamy gets you first." I said as I rose to leave. I blew the bartender a kiss and turned to give Stan a farewell salute but he had already vanished.

         The alley was dark as the girl and her boyfriend cutthrough it to get back to her car. It smelled of garbage and human excrement but it would cut a few minutes off their walk. A rat scurried across their path, the girl started and the boy wrapped his arms around her as they continued through the alley. Suddenly, the fog began to creep towards them, forming slowly into the shape of a tall, handsome man in a white dress shirt and a black suit and tie. He glided
silently, over the pavement but it was the moon that peeked through the clouds that gave away his presence. His shadow loomed over them and they turned with a start.
         The boy was tall and gangly with his black hair dyed auburn at the top. His cheekbones and bronze skin hinted at his Asian heritage while his height proved him to be also part Caucasian. The girl was slim and of medium height with shoulder length light brown hair. Her skin and rich brown eyes as well as her facial features spoke of Native American and Hispanic
influences in her bloodline. She gasped at the figure of Death before them, the boy however; acting on primitive instincts placed himself firmly between the vampire and his girlfriend.
         The vampire smiled as he advanced in one fluid motion and before the boy could take a fighting stance he was flying into the wall of a building. The girl screamed and made to run but the vampire caught her and drew her closer.

         "BELLAMY!" I shouted as I stepped into the
alley and fired the crossbow. He whirled, releasing the girl, and the bolt caught him in the shoulder. He screamed ripping out the bolt, his fangs gleaming grotesquely in the moonlight.
         I pulled a wooden spike from my pocket, "I have a sudden urge to do this the old fashioned way." I said as I advanced down the alley.
         "This time you'll stay dead, Munro, and not even your three guardian angels will save you."
         "Not before I see you in Hell." I lunged
then but he dissipated into mist and reformed behind me. He grabbed me around the upper arms and pulled me against him. Pain shot up my arms at the physical contact and I heard the stake clatter on the pavement. "Will you never learn, cherie?"
         "I never make the same mistake, twice." I
said as I burst into flames. Bellamy screamed but quickly changed into mist and fled. "Damn it." I muttered as I reformed. Then I felt a sharp pain and looked down to see the point of the stake sticking through my chest. I turned, going to my knees in pain, the girl stood there, panting. "I'm afraid that only works on vampires." I said as I again burst into flames and
reformed whole once more before her.
         "What the Hell are you?"
         "One of the good guys. Should we see about your boyfriend?"
         "Oh God, Christian!" The girl exclaimed running towards her boyfriend's still prone figure. I knelt beside her and gently reached out a hand towards him. "Stay away from him." The girl hissed moving to protect him.
         I could feel her fear and anger coming off her in waves as well as her concern for him so I changed approaches, "I can help him, I promise. I won't hurt him." I said as I moved closer and again reached out to him. I began at his chest checking for internal injuries before moving up to his head, which was were the damage seemed to be located. I channeled my healing energy through my empathic ability so that I could stop the bleeding in his brain as well as bring down the swelling that had already started.
         "Will he be all right?" The girl asked
behind me.
         "Yes." I said as I sat back on my haunches
and fought the urge to sleep healing someone else was more exhausting than healing myself and I already felt myself crashing, not a good thing.
         "Are you going to be all right?" She asked
looking at me as I turned toward her.
         "Sure, though I've been better."
         Christian groaned at that moment and I turned back to him, "Come on, let's get you two to your car." I said as I helped the now rousing Christian to his feet. He stumbled and would have gone down if I hadn't been supporting him. The two blocks to Audrey's car seemed like a mile to me and I realized I was going to have a hell of a time getting home. I was coherent enough to give Audrey my cell number in case she needed to get a
hold of me as well as getting hers in the event I
needed to call her. I then managed to get back to my bike but my brain was so fuddled by then that I knew I couldn't and probably shouldn't try driving home.
         I fumbled for my cell phone and managed to dial Angelo's number. The haze was settling in my head.
         "Angelo."
         "South Main and Maynard Street. Averted vampire attack. Can't drive. I'm going to crash, any minute."
         "I can be there in ten minutes."
         I listened to the dial tone for I don't know how long before I realized that Angelo had hung up. I shook my head trying to dislodge some of the cobwebs but I was sinking fast. It took me forever to turn off my phone and get it back into my coat pocket. I was shaking bad by the time Angelo arrived, "Jeh-Zus Munro, you look like Hell. I'll get somebody to pick up the bike. You can pick it up at the precinct when you feel up to it. Do you need to go to the hospital?"
         "NO, hospital. Home. Bed. Fine in the
morning." My teeth were chattering so hard that the words were stuttered. Then everything went black....

         I awoke late the next morning to the smell of eggs. My stomach flipped nervously and a migraine sprang to life. I groaned and looked at the clock on the nightstand 12:08 PM. Time to get up. I climbed out of bed only to notice that I was still in my clothes from last night, but someone had at least removed my coat and boots. Angelo. The events of last night came rushing back and the migraine intensified.
         I stumbled blindly into the kitchen. "I thought you were going to sleep forever." Angelo said as he turned from the stove a frying pan full of freshly scrambled eggs in one hand and a spatula in the other.
         "I usually sleep a good ten hours straight after a night like last night." I said going for the bottle of the extra-strength Advil in the drawer by the sink and then downing six of them dry. I headed for the refridgerator next pulling out the box of Oregon Chai tea mix and the gallon of 1% milk. From a cupboard I pulled a cup and mixed equal portions of the Chai and milk into it. Then returning the milk and the Chai to the refridgerator, I placed the cup in the microwave and hit the "beverage" button. Ah, the
blessings of modern technology.
         "Care to explain that." Angelo asked as I
again turned toward him.
         "Explain what? Oh, last night. I caught Bellamy in the act, we fought. Things got a little out of hand. I'm not going into details since you choose not to believe in that sort of thing." I said as I took the cup from the microwave and enjoyed the first scalding sweet sip.
         "You were in bad shape last night it looked like an advanced state of shock. When you passed out like you did I thought you were dead."
         I laughed, "Not quite."
         Angelo "Hmphed," obviously not satisfied by my response, but not curious enough to enter into Twilight Zone or The X-Files territory just yet. I was glad for that since last night was still to fresh in my mind for me to revisit. I sipped my tea and made toast. Then I munched on the dry white toast as I watched Angelo demolish a heaping plate of eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns with two slices of wheat bread. "Sure you don't want any of this? Don't worry I bought it this morning at the store on the corner."
         "No, and I figured you did since I don't usually have eggs in the refridgerator and I hate wheat bread."
         "Okay, just so you know I'm not eating your food."
         "Least I could do would be to let you eat
breakfast after you helped me last night."
         Don't get all sappy on me, Munro." Angelo
threatened.
         "I'm not, but thanks for not taking me to a hospital."
         "It was against my better judgment but I figured you had your reasons."
         "Hospitals just complicate things; too many questions." I said placing my empty cup as well as Angelo's dishes in the dishwasher. I turned the dishwasher on and headed for the bathroom.
         "I guess I'll be going. Should head home, anyway, gotta work tonight." Angelo said heading for the door. I turned then and locked the door behind him before heading again for the shower, stripping as I went.
         A hot shower was just the thing I needed to clear away the last of the cobwebs and when the tap turned cold I cheated by using my powers to heat the water. I again had the fleeting thought of how I could save on my electric bill by doing this all the time since I liked my water HOT, but that would be cheating. Since it would fall under the category of personal gain in my
mind, a serious no-no for someone dealing with magick.
         Feeling more alert but still drowsy, I picked up my dirty clothes and threw them in the hamper. Discarding the wet towel, I draped it on the chair near my vanity table and crawled back into bed. The sun was just setting when I awoke for the second time that day.
         "What" "You did" "Last night" "Was reckless" "And" "Foolhardy."
         My head hit the pillow again and I groaned, "I fail to see why my actions last night warranted a house call." I said getting out of bed without a bit of modesty and heading for the closet. They watched me but remained standing in the center of my bedroom. I came out seconds later wearing gray cotton drawstring pajama
bottom and a gray tank top.
         "You" "Might have" "Been" "Killed" "Last" "Night." All three of them crossed their arms and looked annoyed with me.
         "Emphasis on might have, I've learned a few things about myself and my powers since I last encountered Bellamy."
         "Yes," "But it" "Was an" "Unnecessary risk" "That" "You took."
         "Well, let's see I'm nearly indestructible unlike the very mortal girl and her boyfriend who might have died if I hadn't taken that unnecessary risk. Hmm..I'd say my risk was necessary if it meant saving two lives."
         "We told" "You not" "To interfere" "With Duncan" "Bellamy, that" "We would" "See that" "This matter" "Is handled."
         "I'm handling it. Bellamy is mine."
         "If you" "Proceed" "With this" "We will" "Not be able" "To help you."
         "Fine if you don't mind I'm going to make myself something to eat before getting back to hunting Bellamy down."
         "Very" "Well" "Arianna." And they disappeared in a flash. I headed towards the kitchen to rummage through the refridgerator. I settled on potato cheddar soup, which I garnished with more cheddar cheese. I smiled as the soup stuck to my spoon in long cheesy strings. It
was a small reprieve before the grim job of getting back to hunting down Bellamy and staking the blood-sucking bastard.
         I donned a black cashmere sweater and black jeans along with my boots before calling a cab. I assumed my motorcycle was at the eighth precinct but I couldn't remember if Angelo had told me that or not. Sitting back against the gray upholstery of the cab I watched the moon rise in the darkening sky, and wondered where
Bellamy was. I played with the silver bracelet on my left arm. It was wide covering about two and a half inches from my wrist up. On its underside were strange mystic runes that seemed to glow on their own; a tally of the debts owed since I working on restoring a soul's karma or balance.          The bracelet was permanently fixed to my arm, at least until I managed to save the soul which hung in the balance. The soul in question would be very important when it came to the time of the final battle between good and evil and I was doing everything possible to make sure that soul would be on the good side. The bracelet also marked me as an Avatar along with the two runic tattoos that wrapped around my ankles which served in my mind as property markings, a
brand of sorts. The cab slowed and I realized that we were at the precinct, I paid the cabbie and headed up the steps and into the precinct.
         The precinct was just starting to get noisy as I entered; two noisy drunks were yelling something about their Fifth Amendment rights, while trying to get at each other. Three beefy cops were dragging them to the drunk tank while trying to keep them separated. I laughed at the sight, then clutched my head as my headache roared back to life. "Damn thing's got more
lives than I do." I muttered as I again climbed the stairs up to Homicide on the second floor.
         "You'll never take me alive copper." Came an all too familiar voice as a dirty, twenty-something grunge band reject barreled down the stairs at inhuman speed. I grabbed his collar as he breezed by; there was a harsh strangling sound as I dragged him back up the stairs. Several desks were overturned and two cops were on the
ground, not a good sign. Angelo looked about ready to commit murder; the sarcastic quip on the edge of my tongue died a bitter death, "Lose something?" I asked with a smile anyhow.
         Angelo exploded, "MUNRO - IN HERE NOW!"
Angelo said heading into the interrogation room.
         "Come on, Eddie." I said dragging him along, he all the while trying to regain his footing.
         "Munro, you're choking...ch....eck....meee."
         "What the ---," Angelo slammed the door behind me and Eddie, "is he?"
         "Let me guess, his pictures didn't turn out, you can't see him in any mirrors, and he made a break for it overpowering most of homicide without breaking a sweat as well as tossing the desks around like they were nothing, right?"
         "That and the tox screen they gave him down in narcotics when he checked came back negative, so he's not on anything."
         "That would be because he's a
V-A-M-P-I-R-E." I said as I poured Eddie into the chair at the table in front of me.
         "Don't say that. Jeh-Zus." Angelo stared at Eddie, paling as Eddie smiled back, fangs showing.
         I hit Eddie on the back of the head, hard.
         "Owh. Munro, I just bit my tongue."
         "Good, what's he here for?"
         "Possession and there was blood on his clothing so Narc shipped him up here. I'm gonna have someone's ass for this." He focused on Eddie, who despite all ready being dead, shrank under the malevolent gaze.
         "Possession, what the Hell were you
thinking?" I asked again hitting him on the back of the head.
         "Hey, a guy's got to make a living."
         "News flash Eddie; you're D-E-A-D. Dead. There's no need to make a living. Hell, steal the money off your victims like the rest of your brethren. Human aren't suppose to know about vampires or did you not get the informational brochure when you joined the Undead Society?"
         "Hey, leave off the third degree. You're not my mother, you're not even my Master."
         "Master? So, who's you're Master, Eddie?"
         "Hey, I didn't mean it like that."
         I yanked him out of the chair and slammed him against the nearest wall, "I hate being lied to Eddie, especially when I all ready have a headache." I said through gritted teeth.
         With my arm lying across his throat, Eddie began to squirm, "Let me go, Munro."
         I pressed harder, almost wishing he was alive, "Eddie, tell the truth or I'll have Angelo here set you in the sunniest cell they've got here."
         "You're bluffing Munro." Eddie said avoiding my eyes and gazing at Angelo who just stood there stonily. I pulled out the knife I always carry with me, a gleaming six-inch blade and flashed it at Eddie, "Jeh-Zus Munro, don't do anything crazy." Angelo said his eyes locked on the blade.
         Oh, I'm not." I said running the blade along Eddie's cheek, he shuddered and blood trickled down his face since I keep the blade extra sharp. Eddie froze even as the cut began to heal, "It's Bellamy. Please, Munro. He killed the guy working for him after he talked to you. I was dealing down in the Square when he found me."He
sputtered and choked up, blood tears coursing down his cheeks.
         "So, why were you dealing dope if you have a, pardon the expression, day job?"
         "Greedy little bastard, I'm betting." Angelo said through his teeth.
         "Yeah, I could use a little dough, and dealing is less of a risk."
         "Why the extra dough, thinking of springing for a haircut and an updated wardrobe?" I quipped.
         "Funny, let me go and I'll tell you whatever you want to know."
         "Why the sudden change of heart?" I asked then I smiled, "How about you tell me what I want to know and then I'll let you go."
         "No deal, Munro. Besides, if telling you where Bellamy is will get me out here, I'm game. I'll deal with Bellamy if and when we run into each other again, but let me go or I don't tell you a thing."
         "Fine." I said dropping Eddie like the bug
that he was, and then on second thought I scraped him off the floor and deposited him back in the chair. I sat on the table fingering the blade and watched as the blade began to glow bright red. Eddie gulped, "He said you were different, but..." His voice trailed off as he continued to stare at the blade.
         I glanced over at Angelo and saw his ashen expression, I smiled savagely and turned back to Eddie, "How about you tell me where Bellamy is and then you won't have to worry about six inches of heated, pure silver getting anywhere near you. Lie and I'll make this very slow and extremely painful."
         Eddie gulped again, his gaze lingering on the knife, "I don't know where he's staying, honest. He gave me a pager and I call him back, then he tells me where to meet him."
         I smiled then grasped his hand, pain shot through me, but so did the knowledge that he was telling the truth, "Have all your meetings been at Bauhaus on Pike Street?" I asked releasing his hand.
         Eddie froze once more and looked at me as though I'd just grown horns. Mutely, he nodded. "Good then the next time he contacts you call this number." I said putting my business card in his shirt pocket, then standing up I turned to leave, "Keep him until sundown
tomorrow, unless you can let him go tonight." I
said as I opened the door and exited the interrogation room.
         "Munro, where the Hell are you going?" Angelo called as he left Eddie still shaking in the interrogation room.
         "Shit, I almost forgot - I need my bike." I said turning to face him.
         "What should we do with Fang? I can't throw him in the holding cell with the rest of the scum that'll come in tonight."
         "Sure you can, the criminal population needs a little thinning out. Now, where's my bike?"
         "Damn it Munro, I'm not leaving a goddamn,
you-know-what in lock up."
         "Fine. Let him go. Where's my bike?"
Angelo looked about ready to blow a fuse; his face had turned a molten red and his jaw was working furiously, "The keys are in my desk, level three in the garage. What should I do with Eddie?"
         "Don't let him out in daylight and don't add holy water. Other than that your call." I said snagging my keys and heading for the garage.

         I was on a mission; Bellamy was still out there, and three people were dead. Paige Henley. Nell Ramsey. Renfield. It was time to even the score or die trying and since I don't die that easily anymore, I figure the odds were in my favor. With two attacks having occurred in Pioneer Square I decided to see if I could get lucky. It was nice to have my motorcycle back even if I had only been without it for less than a day and besides I wouldn't have been able to ride it then anyway. There had been rain earlier that evening and the road was still wet and
slick as I raced down the streets that were eerily
devoid of people. I left my bike in an alley off of King Street Station, and decided to proceed on foot and see what was going on. Bums moaned in alleys from bad liquor and the wet cold they lay in. Smells earthy, foul and wet assaulted my heightened senses, but they were all human. The
cloying essence of evil was absent and I was both
disgusted and elated. It began to rain and the clean scent of it overpowered me.
         I walked through Occidental Park, past a gallery of Asian art. Buddha and Kwan Yin stared serenely back at me and then I sensed it - the Other. I wheeled around and there he stood.
He smiled and the light from the overhead lamp glinted off his fangs, "Looking for me, Munro?" He
purred.
         "Bellamy."
         His long black coat fluttered like wings as he turned his arms in a shrug, hands in his pockets, "Here I am."
         "Not for long." I said firing the small
derringer in my pocket. The two silver slugs caught him in the stomach and he howled in pain. Discarding the coat I drew both Desert Eagles from their holsters behind my back, "Hurts like Hell, right?" I sneered, "If you're not sure, you're about to find out."
         I stalked him, guns ready, as he crawled, hunched over in pain. I wondered why he didn't just change forms and flee; two feet from him I got my answer. He'd been playing possum. He lunged knocking me down, my head cracked forcefully against the pavement and only by sheer will did I remain conscious, "Another time, Munro." He whispered in my ear as I watched him change into a bat and fly away.
         I lay there for a few minutes in too much pain to even think about moving. The rain was falling softly now, but I barely felt the difference, I realized I had to be about as close to dying as I could be. I was suddenly far removed from everything; I no longer felt the cold, wet bricks beneath me, and the pain in my
head, or even the rain. I should probably move I
thought but the message didn't seem to be moving
outward from my brain. My fingers tentatively made the journey to where my head lay against the pavement, and came back sticky and wet with blood. Not good I thought as I was again drifting off to that far away place.
         Shit, I muttered. Shoes clicked on the pavement and I crashed back into my body - pain roared through my systems. "Damn it, Munro. Are you all right?" Came Angelo's gruff voice then I sensed him kneeling next to me.
         "Saint Peter?" I asked laughing but the laugh quickly turned into a groan as pain shot through me with white-hot intensity.
         "Jeh-Zus, Munro. I think you've cracked your head wide open. I'm calling for an ambulance."
         "No. No hospital. No doctors. Just give me a second. I can't go to a hospital, I told you before they'd ask too many questions." I said as I started to focus my energy on the injured area. I was numb, still drifting; not a good sign. "Hmm, I think I'm dying." I mused happily and the numbness receded into a dull constant
pain.
         "That's it. I'm calling an ambulance." I heard him but I was floating further and further
away. I could see Angelo and myself but I didn't want to go. Suddenly, heat swelled enveloping me, then bursting forth. Again I was slammed back into my body, sitting up straight I gasped for air as though my lungs were empty, "No ambulance. No doctor. No hospital, what part of goddamn fucking no, do you not understand?" I snarled clutching my head as the migraine once more
roared to life.
         "What the Hell are you, Munro? You didn't have a pulse. You weren't breathing. Technically, you were dead for fifteen minutes."
         "Really? I could have sworn it was only a minute or two."
         "Damn it. Munro." He growled.
         "Don't yell," I said quietly trying to stand up. I wobbled, my knees felt weak. Angelo reached out to support me, but I waved him away, not needing to feel his anger atop of my pain and my migraine. "No questions, I'll try and explain in the morning or whenever I'm coherent. Just not now, okay? I just need to go home and crash." I said taking my first step slowly not wanting to crack my head open for the second time tonight.
         "Where's your bike? This time I'll have a uniform take it to your house. I'll take you home and tomorrow you're going to level with me."
         "It's in the alley across the street from King Street Station. Keys are in my right front pocket." The words were becoming harder to form as my body began to crash. I felt Angelo search my coat pocket and had the fleeting sensation of anger, bafflement, and the pain that was always present when someone touched me, then all went black.
         I awoke with a start, then clutched my head as pain exploded through it. I was still dressed although Angelo had again removed my coat and shoes. In bits and pieces the events of the night came back to me and I groaned, I slowly got up and made my way to the kitchen. Deja vu. Angelo was making breakfast or he had made breakfast, and he was leaning against the island drinking coffee. "What time is it?" I asked realizing I had not checked the clock on my nightstand upon waking, as was my habit.
         Angelo looked up from his coffee to see me in the doorway, "It's time for our talk." He said gruffly.
         I shook my head, "Not just yet." I said
heading for the drawer with the Advil in it. I checked the clock on the microwave, 12:05 PM.
I took 8 extra-strength Advil dry and grimaced at the bitter taste. Angelo pulled out another cup, and I had a moment of disconcertment that he knew where my coffee mugs where, he reached for the carafe and I shook my head in dissent. I took the mug and filled it from the tap. I put the empty cup in the sink and took a chair at the island. Angelo walked around the island so that he could see me. I looked up then, the headache was slowly easing, but I knew Angelo wasn't going to be put
off much longer. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths trying to drive the pain as deeply as possible, finally I opened them and looked at Angelo, "What would you like to know?"
         Angelo looked at me for a long time as though trying to plot out his line of questioning, "What are you? I guess that's the most logical place to start."
         "I'm human for the most part. My father wasn't from around here, if you know what I mean. I was born Glorianna Marie Louise Frasier-MacKenzie Campbell Munro ab MacAran in 1731 to Siobhan Munro and Jamie MacAran. I was raised believing that Andrew Campbell was my father until my mother's death when I was five then I
went to live with my real father's family, the Clan MacAran. At age eight, I followed my Uncle Alex to China and traveled the world for the next seven years until I met up with my Aunt Brianna in France in 1744. I died on April 16, 1746 on Culloden Moor thus saving my Aunt Brianna.
         The reason I was in France then was because the Moirai had approached me to become what they call an Avatar. As an Avatar I protect the balance between good and evil on the earthly plane. With this in mind, the Moirai choose individuals who can handle having their physical and mental abilities heightened and those who can deal with a shortened lifespan. In my case they took all ready heightened abilities and made them even stronger." I paused to see Angelo's reaction
and he gazed at me intently, "Shall I proceed?"
         He nodded and I continued, "I was born with what would be off-the-chart psychic abilities, if such abilities could be measure, and those were heightened as well; I'm telepathic although primarily a touch telepath which means my mind reading abilities are strongest when in physical contact with whomever or whatever I'm attempting to read. I'm an absolute empath in that I can both read emotions like a sensitive as well as sensing injuries and healing their wounds like a healing empath. I'm telekinetic and pyrokinetic in that I can I move things with my mind as well as start fire, which tends to be my specialty, fire that is. I can astral project too, in that I can send my aura to another place and have it physically manifest itself, although I've sort of taken that ability to another level in that I can now project myself from one point to another. Distances are tricky since I need beforehand knowledge of the place but it would be no problem going from the Brownstone to my Aunt Brianna's castle in Scotland. Fortunately since they think I'm dead that's one trip I never have to make. I'm also a touch clairvoyant and precognitive but nothing more than what my Scottish ancestors would call "the Sight" and it's the one ability I have the least control over
but I guess in my line of work seeing the future isn't a necessity. Any questions?"
         "Who are the Moirai?"
         "I knew you'd ask that, I was hoping to gloss over that. The Moirai is the Greek title for the Three Sisters or the Fates. I work for the Fates."
         "You died two hundred and fifty years ago?"
         "Yes and was reborn twenty-three years ago. For the last eight years I've come to terms with who and what I am."
         "What you mean by the last eight years you've come to terms with yourself?"
         "Simple really, I've lived the first fifteen years of my life with no memory of my other lives or that I was anything other than human. On my fifteenth birthday I started remembering things; things that I had no explanation for. Then weird things started happening; I'd answer people before they asked questions, I started being able to read emotions, when I cut myself the wound healed, and when I was cold the fireplace would roar to life without my doing anything to it, and there were a few other little paranormal incidents. Then I found out my mom and dad weren't really my mom and dad when a letter arrived from my mother. Apparently, she had known she was dying as well as the girl that she switched me with, and she had sent a letter to her lawyers with instructions that a letter detailing who and what I really was, was to be sent to me on my fifteenth birthday.
         It arrived late after all these things had started. She and the girl died three days after my birth. Shortly before my sixteenth birthday the Moirai reentered my life, I guess I never learn, and that was when I again became an Avatar. When I graduated from high school I changed my name to the one my real mother had given me and came up here to go to college. Two years into it is when I first ran into you after that rave was hit by that nest of vampires and a friend of mine got hurt. The rest is as you know it."
         "How come your mother has the same name as she did in the past?"
         I smiled, "Because my mother was reborn as I was and my father and his family are immortal. Remember, they're not from around here."
         "How does Bellamy fit into this?"
         "I've encountered him before at the Moirai's request and a time before that when I was nearly a victim, a life before I didn't know about until this time around. Ironically enough Bellamy is the one who inspired Dracula."
         "You're joking. Didn't they kill him at the end of the book?"
         "I said he inspired Dracula not that he was Dracula. However, I plan to make his story end like it did in the book. I personally plan to drive a stake through his heart."
         "Unless he gets you first, what happened the last two times you've run into him."
         "Third time's the charm. Besides I've learned a few things since I last ran into him. For one I don't die quite as easily anymore."
         "So, you're going after him again so soon after last night?"
         "Yes, because I hope he won't be expecting it. I'm going down to Pioneer Square again tonight."
         "Maybe you should wait. Don't these Moirai have someone who could back you up."
         "God, you're starting to sound just like them. I'm the only one who can stop him - I know that, why can't you see that?" I asked getting frustrated I pushed away from the island and stalked into the living room, Angelo followed.
         "I'm sure they know just as I do that you're probably right about being the only one who can get Bellamy, but that doesn't make us any less concerned about you."
         "Thanks for caring but I have to do this,
tonight."
         "Then I'm going with you. Give me a gun."
Angelo started but I cut him off.
         "No, I can't risk Bellamy going after you, despite the fact that he usually only goes after girls. That and you'll only slow me down, no offense."
         "None taken, just call me regardless of what happens." Angelo said as he picked up his jacket from the couch and made his way to leave. I heard the front door close with a click and then I headed for my bedroom to start getting ready for tonight...

         I laid my long black coat on my bed and then from under the bed I pulled out two large black suitcases. Into the coat from the suitcases went silver spikes, silver throwing daggers, vials of holy water and numerous silver nitrate, and extra clips for my Desert Eagles. I pulled from my closet my black leather boots; perfect
for tromping through jungles or kicking vampire ass. I put on my black cargo pants and in the pockets went a few more daggers and several incendiary devices. I put on a tight black tank top and pulled a long sleeve black sweater over it. I braided my hair in a French braid. I put my boots on. I took my sword out of the closet and strapped it across my back. I put on my leg holsters and then made sure each Desert Eagle had a full clip in it. In my right front pocket went my little derringer with four silver bullets in it. I holstered my Desert Eagles. Then I slipped on my long black coat. I grabbed my keys from the table by the door, made sure all the lights were off, then locked the door as I left. I descended the steps of the Brownstone as the sun was setting in the west. Donning my mirrored sunglasses, I gunned the Ninja and headed
towards Pioneer Square; it was time for the final hunt.
         I started at Occidental Park again; I had a feeling he was nesting somewhere close. Some bums lay groaning in alley near the park as I walked towards after leaving the Ninja a couple blocks away. The streets were damp which cut down on the smell of human refuse, making it easier to track Bellamy or keep him from getting the drop on me like last time. Once bitten, twice shy. I grimaced at the random thought's deeper implications.
         The park was suddenly all too quiet which set my nerves on edge; I strained for some sense of my prey. The world seemed to fade away until only sound and smell existed. I discarded the human associated sounds and smells until I found him. I brought back the world piece by piece until I got my bearings again.
         I started off at a run towards where I had sensed the vampire; I only hoped it was Bellamy. I rounded a corner and nearly ran straight into Eddie. Recognizing me, he turned to flee but I grabbed the hood of his sweater and jerked him back towards me. I slammed him up against a wall of the building that I had just rounded. "Eddie, I'm beginning to think you're a bad penny; everywhere I turn you seem to show up."
         "Munro, nice night for a walk." He hedged and red blood droplets of sweat appeared on his forehead.
         "Cut the crap, Eddie," I nearly snarled,
"Where's Bellamy?"
         "Munro, please he'll kill me or worse." He
whined, squirming as I tightened my grip on his sweatshirt and lifted him slightly off the ground before I pressed a heavy arm across his larynx.
         "Eddie what makes you think there will be enough of you left after I'm done with for Bellamy to exact punishment on?"
         Fear became an almost tangible aura around Eddie and I smiled coldly. "Munro, please." He sputtered.
         "Give me Bellamy and you get to live a little longer."
         "I told you I don't know where he's nesting. He contacts me." I watched his eyes and saw the lie in them.
         "Eddie, why are you out here? I don't see anybody around to by your product. You're going to meet him, aren't you?" I asked again tightening my grip on him.
         He squirmed again and I applied more pressure to his larynx. Again, I almost wished he was living so I'd have some added leverage on him. "Please, Munro."
         "Where, Eddie?" I asked evenly.
         "Ah, gawd." He squirmed and I saw the fear, the real Fear in his eyes.
         "There is no God for Us, Eddie. There is only Death." Came the deep purring male voice behind me.
         I dropped Eddie like the sack of shit that he was. He crawled, crying hysterically as he tried to make it around the building's corner.
         "Eddie, one moment before you run off, or
crawl," Bellamy said in that low, dangerous purr of a voice. Eddie froze, bloody tears falling down his face, chin trembling though no sound escaped now, "Consider yourself fired as my Renfield." Bellamy raised his left arm then and fired what looked like a smaller, more compact version of a crossbow, the silver bolt struck
Eddie in the chest. He opened his mouth to scream but he burst into flame in the same instant and quickly became nothing more than a pile of ash.
         "Good help is really so hard to find these days. As you well know that was my second Renfield since arriving here in Seattle. Loyalty seems to be a trait that has been extinguished from the gene pool in the last century or so. The blood seems to be thinning as well; a sign that the quality of breeding stock is diminishing. Who knows human beings may only have a few centuries left in them."
         "Then where would that leave you and yours?" I asked trying to remain relaxed though my right hand stayed close to my Desert Eagle.
         "Vampires will adapt. Though we prefer humans, all we really need is blood." He said with a sly smile.
         "Kind of like switching from a triple shot
expresso to decaf, cold turkey, or in your case Champagne to Miller Light."
         "Perhaps, I suppose we could always take to growing humans like cattle, though that would ruin the fun of the hunt." He said with a Gallic shrug.
         "Is that all humans are to you, cattle? If so, why do you only choose pretty young women to kill?"
         "At first, perhaps. I became a vampire during the Crusades. I fed on my enemies because to me they all ready were cattle. For my first century as a vampire I believed that humans were nothing more to me than that. It wasn't until I killed my first innocent, a Vestal Virgin in an old temple in the Greek countryside that I knew otherwise. Her essence has stayed with me; her
beauty, her innocence, the sweetness of her, and so I began to hunt others like her."
         "Like the seven girls in Edinburgh in 1521 or Paige Henley and Nell Ramsey here in Seattle?" I asked angrily as I began to see just what a monster he truly was.
         "You hate me for what I am, but there are humans out there who do what I do, would you hunt them as well?"
         "Yes, but I hunt vampires and real monsters, not those hiding in human form. I hunt those that hide in shadow, in myth, those that man has no power to stop." With that I went for my guns, but he was all ready in motion. He fell on me in the same instant. The gun in my left hand went sliding across the damp pavement. The one in my right I was quickly relieved of as he squeezed my wrist until I left go. He tossed it aside and then pressed more of his weight on me, pinning me to the wet pavement.
         "You hunt us but do you kill us? Perhaps you have a fascination with me and that is why you've failed to kill me." He whispered, close, next to my ear.
         "I was young and stupid back then, but now I know better." I said as I burst into flame, rising upward, surrounding him. I solidified turning and pinning him to the ground. My knee lodged in his still smoking back. He howled in pain, all of his skin charred and already flaking, "You see, I'm just beginning to reach my full potential."
         "It's a shame you won't be able to actualize it." He hissed as he turned into mist and escaped from beneath me. I had been anticipating that maneuver and tossed an open vial of silver nitrate into the floating cloud of mist. He screamed and reformed, his all ready charred skin once more smoking and burning this time from the silver nitrate.
         "You think you can win? Your Fates employ you to keep a balance; destroy us, and something just as evil if not worse will rise to take our place. Then where would you be?" He asked as he sent a cloud of mist down his body healing his skin and restoring the dark hypnotic beauty that he wore so easily.
         "Easy. I'll hunt them, too. The balance will be maintained and so long as I'm alive evil will never win."
         "I'll remember that before I kill you." He
said as he drew a thin straight rapier from beneath his black cloak. From the way the blade gleamed I assumed it was very old and probably made of good Toledo steel.
         "A duel, then." I said drawing my own sword, it's blade gleamed as well of highly polished silver over a core of adamantium, which made the blade almost indestructible.
         "A duel." He agreed as he circled me. He
lunged testing my skill; I quickly deflected and flicked my own blade upward slicing his right wrist. He hissed in pain as the silver made contact with his skin. He lunged again and I parried before going in for a riposte which
sliced open the white dress shirt he wore having
quickly discarded his cloak after his first lunge. He hissed again as a thin line of red appeared.
         "Are you just going to toy with me, Munro? Cutting and slashing until I bleed to death? Or perhaps you hope I'll flee the battlefield and that way you can fight me again another time?" He asked as our blades began a complicated dance of lunge, parry, riposte, parry, riposte, and repeat.
         "No, I figured I'd just toy with you a little than put a stake into your black heart." I reached into my pant's pocket with my left hand, my right hand continuing to wield the sword with almost unconscious ease and withdrew an equally shiny silver spike, "I guess you'll get to experience first hand what Eddie felt when you gave him his severance."
         I began to dance closer, moving quicker, seeing the master's wheel in my mind's eye making the lines of his attack clear. By dancing closer I limited his movements until I backed him up against the building, his steps causing the pile of ash that had once been Eddie to flutter and cling to his black pants. It was as though Eddie's ghost was trying to exact his revenge on his murderer.
         He lunged in a last attempt to keep from being cornered against the building, and I felt the pain as the blade entered about mid-chest. I kept moving forward despite the pain, feeling the blade slide through me until I was impaled up to the hilt. I smiled despite having four feet of steel in me and sent the silver spike home.
         He screamed and his face contorted in a mix of rage and pain. His skin began to peel and smoke until it flaked away. It was like his body was melting away layer by layer in time lapse photography. I had never seen a vampire take this long to die but then I had never killed a vampire as old as Bellamy. Once the skin layer had melted away the musculature took on a bat-like shape as though the muscles were trying to remember their form. His fangs gleamed as the poisonous silver spread in glowing silver veins over the disintegrating muscles. When they had melted away
the bones simply crumbled into dust like an old
manuscript kept in an airtight jar was suddenly exposed to the light of day.
         The fascination of his death had blocked out the pain of having four feet of solid steel residing in my body. I sunk to my knees as the pain hit, ash floated around me. I coughed and groaned at the same time, the ash tasted bitter and had an acidic quality to it as I accidentally inhaled.
         Great, I'm dying here and I'm swallowing vampire remains at the same time. I spit trying to get the taste as well as the ash out of my mouth. Placing both of my hands on the sword's hilt I drew it out of my body, the pain was sharp and intense, but I didn't want to slow the extraction down since that would most assuredly mean prolonged pain. The blade clattered to the ground, as my hands became slick with my own blood. I was panting heavily feeling blood pour from the wound freely, I realized I was just too weak to change form and heal myself by turning into fire and back again.
         I crawled away from the ash, and lay on the wet ground looking up at the sky. The stars were out in full force tonight, great. I'm lying here in my own blood and I'm stargazing. Angelo. My brain suddenly fired, cutting through the
haze of pain. My right hand twitched and then slowly moved to my coat pocket for my digital phone. I was almost glad that I had splurged for the voice activation package. "Call Angelo." and the phone dialed.
         "Munro, where the Hell are you?" Angelo asked almost immediately upon answering.
         "I'm dying, oh where? Pretty close to where I was the last time." I coughed and tasted the metallic bite of blood.
         "Munro, hang on. I can be there in five
minutes."
         "I'm not going anywhere." I laughed but that quickly turned into a groan, which in turn became a thick phlegmatic cough.
         "Munro - damn it - five minutes."
         Click.
         The dial tone resounded against my ear and I let the phone drop beside me. Again my gaze went heavenward; the stars were winking at me. I laughed and felt my throat constricting. I gasped for breath and saw a bright light appear beyond me.
         "I don't see why we couldn't have come
sooner."
         "We shouldn't interfere to begin with."
         "We should take care of our own."
         "She didn't listen to us."
         "She had a reason."
         "That's what makes her the One."
         "Enough."
         "She's in pain."
         Three identical voices spoke almost in unison so that I could only make out the last line, which seemed to echo, "Damn straight she's in pain." I spat through clenched teeth.
         Three glowing heads appeared around my feet. Atropos stood in the middle supported by Clotho and Lachesis, all garbed in flowing, gleaming white dresses, "So, this is what a visitation is like." I groaned.
         "She can't be hurt too badly." Atropos said leaning closer; her blind eyes seemed to glow.
         "A little help here." I coughed.
         "Indignant." "Foolish." "Mortal."
         "Don't start that." I groaned.
         In chorus they began to chant,
         "Time and time, We call forth, The powers beyond this Earthly clime, Save this the one of worth, Heal and make whole once more, Powers older than the gods of yore, Hear us, Heed us,
As we will, So mote it be."
         They glowed brighter, their arms reaching out to heaven and points of light and flame danced from their outstretched hands. The light and flame fell upon me, cutting through the haze of pain, filling me with warmth and a sleepy feeling. My eyes drooped and the bright light dimmed and finally I gave into the darkness.
         "Munro! God damn it! Wake up!"
         I groaned at being shaken awake; I was warm and safe. I cracked open an eye and grimaced at Angelo's face so close to mine. Then I saw the stars beyond him and the events of the night came crashing back on me, "Damn. Now I owe them a favor."
         "I thought you were dying."
         "I was. My employers decided it would be
inconvenient to have to replace me. I have on Hell of health plan."
         " I guess. Will you be able to make it home all right? What about Bellamy?"
         "Eddie and Bellamy are dead. I should be all right in a few minutes. I'm still a little fuzzy."
         "Here, let's get you standing up, that should clear your head faster." Angelo said extending his hand.
         I waved off his hand, and slowly got to my feet on my own. I staggered and Angelo made to catch me but stopped when I again put my hand out.
         My head cleared by degrees until I didn't feel like I was going to fall over in an instant. Angelo walked me in silence back to my bike. He seemed to understand that I wasn't in the mood to talk. The trip home was done on autopilot, and somehow I got to be and out of my clothes before I collapsed again into unconsciousness.
         It was early afternoon before I surfaced from the black well of unconsciousness that I had fallen into. I showered and dressed in blue jeans, an emerald green sweater and a pair of well-worn white canvas shoes. I left my hair down so that it fell in golden waves against my back as I walked.
         I tied it back with a silver clasp though and donned my black leather jacket before I left the Brownstone. I owed Angelo an explanation.
         The precinct was quiet this early in the afternoon as I entered it. Angelo was in though, buried under a mountain of paperwork. "Munro, back among the living, I see." He said not looking up from his paperwork.
         "You know what they say, you can't keep a good girl down. Thought you might have some questions for me, about last night."
         "Not really. You said Bellamy was dead, that's all I needed to know. Case closed."
         "Right. Just a year to go before you retire, wouldn't want to develop a bad reputation to follow into it." I said suddenly remembering our conversation at Paige Henley's crime scene.
         "Damn straight. I've closed the book on this case, and I thank you for helping bring it to a close. Let's just leave it at that."
         "Fine. Just thought to tell you I'm heading out of town for a bit. I think I deserve a vacation."
         "Yeah. Go some place nice and sunny."
         He said it in all seriousness, but I couldn't help but laugh as I headed out of the precinct to my bike. I'd patch things up with Angelo when I got back. It wouldn't do to leave things weird between us, but for now I needed to get as many miles between Seattle and me as I could. I needed to forget out Death and enjoy
life for a bit. This case had hit a little too close to home, and I felt completely wiped out, emotionally, mentally, physically, and about as close as I can get to spiritually. A vacation, that sounded good, like Happily Ever After. Although in my case, it was probably just a to be continued in my book. A little sun, I laughed, Hell that was just what I needed as I turned the bike south towards sunnier climes.