My neck throbbed, and my patience was gone. The good feeling I’d gained from the hot shower was retreating at the speed of light.
‘Special Agent Stevens, I didn’t get up this early to discuss fairy tales or cartoon characters, so unless there is some aspect of psychology that I can help you with, I think we’re finished.’
‘Wow,’ he said, slapping his palms on his thighs, ‘you really don’t know. I figured when I saw your ad in the paper that you knew what you were dealing with, but you’re flying blind. You’re messing with things you don’t understand, and somebody needs to enlighten you. It might as well be me.’
‘I don’t think that’s necessary.’ I sighed and stood.
‘Wait.’ He grabbed my wrist.
My breath caught. I instinctively jerked my arm out of his grip and took a step back. Nobody else was going to put his hands on me uninvited. I glared at him. ‘Don’t touch me.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He held his hands up in surrender. ‘That was inexcusable. I get overly excited sometimes, especially when I don’t get any sleep. I promise to control myself. Please, hear me out. I think you’ll be intrigued by what I have to say.’
Please? I stared into his watery, bloodshot eyes and saw what appeared to be sincerity. Or maybe it was simply exhaustion. Something about the determined set of his jaw and his easy smile convinced me to sit back down at the table and give him the benefit of the doubt. ‘I’m listening.’ I crossed my arms over my chest.
‘Thank you.’ He mimicked my defensive posture. ‘First, let me give you a little background, to show you that I didn’t start out as a believer either. You and I actually have a lot in common – I have a Ph.D. in psychology, too.’
My mouth formed into an ‘O’.
It was apparent he saw the surprise on my face. ‘Yeah, Doctor Stevens, at your service. I never intended to be a therapist – my interests lie with the criminal mind. So when I was recruited by the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit—’
‘As in The Silence of the Lambs?’ I asked.
‘Yeah. I jumped at the chance to become a profiler, and I specialise in cases that have paranormal elements. Yep, I can see by the gleam in your eyes that you’re drawing comparisons between my work and a certain television programme. It’s true. Some clever coworker or another is always putting old X-Files posters on my door, and my official nickname is Mulder.’
So, Special Agent Stevens isn’t your normal FBI agent. Interesting.
I had to laugh. I’d enjoyed that programme and Agent Mulder’s dry, sarcastic sense of humour. Of course, I fancied myself to be more like Scully.
‘I’m impressed.’ I sipped my coffee. ‘So what’s a profiler like you doing in my kitchen wanting to enlighten me about vampires?’ I had to admit that thinking of him as a colleague rather than only a cop was making him even more interesting to me. I was a sucker for a clever mind.
He relaxed back in the chair and stretched like a cat. The white T-shirt material moulded to his chest muscles and accented the outlines of his nipples. Very distracting.
He saw me notice and wiggled his eyebrows.
What an ego.
‘About a year ago,’ he said, ‘I started tracking a pattern: dead bodies showing up with holes in their necks, drained of blood. At first I did just what you’re doing – I wrote it off to some creative form of mental illness. I assumed I was searching for one predator who moved around a lot, or maybe a copycat murderer who had picked up on the vampire theme. As I suspect you’ve done, I researched everything I could find involving blood-drinking.’
He downed the last of his coffee, carried his mug over to the pot, poured himself a refill, and returned to the table.
Why, yes, thank you, I’d love some more coffee. Hmmm, Narcissistic Personality Disorder? Attention Deficit Disorder? Or just a typical male?
‘We’re on the same page so far,’ I admitted.
He drummed his fingers on the side of his mug. ‘I showed up at the murder scenes, checking for similarities, and the cases just kept getting weirder. Some of the bodies had multiple bites that the lab results showed came from different sets of sharp teeth. No human or animal DNA in the wounds. There were never any signs of struggle, though, no needle marks for drugs. It was as if the victims simply lay there and let themselves be drained. Almost like some form of hypnosis or brainwashing.’
He stopped talking, scanned the kitchen and pointed to a bag of cookies on the counter.
‘You mind? I haven’t had any breakfast yet.’ Without waiting for my response, he leaped up, fetched the bag of cookies and returned to his seat.
‘Help yourself.’ I wondered if he was always this comfortable with strangers, or if he was simply oblivious.
No, I’m sure – oblivious.
‘Then something happened to turn me into a believer,’ he continued. ‘I was in Los Angeles, following some leads about the latest murders, and I was attacked by a vampire.’
He noticed me tighten my lips, and he said, ‘Let me finish. I know this pushes all your “this guy needs therapy” buttons, but hang in there with me.’ He opened the cookie bag, selected one and took a bite.
He excitedly pointed his finger up in the air and brought it down in a quick dive towards the floor. ‘I saw this thing fly down – I kid you not – from the roof of a twelve-storey building. He landed in front of me as if he’d just stepped off someone’s front porch. Not a hair ruffled. He came at me with his teeth bared showing these long, sharp canines, picked me up by my neck like I weighed nothing and threw me down on the ground. He was on me so fast I didn’t have time to be afraid. I started shouting questions at him, asking him to tell me about himself. For some astounding reason, he stepped back and started answering. At the risk of being boringly unoriginal, it really was an interview with a vampire.’
It sounds as if poor Special Agent Stevens is missing a few of his marbles.
I bit the inside of my mouth to keep myself from smiling. ‘What did this vampire tell you?’
He mentally dissected the expression on my face to determine whether I was being serious or sarcastic. He must have decided my question was on the level.
‘That’s a very long conversation for another day, but what’s important is that my education was vastly expanded. He gave me a graduate course in the strange and impossible. I think I must have connected with him at exactly the right time because he was willing to spill all the vampire secrets. Actually, I think he was suicidal. Maybe I should refer him to you for therapy?’ he joked.
He ate another cookie.
‘Okay,’ I shot him a frosty look, ‘so let me get this straight. You’re honestly trying to convince me to believe that there are such things as vampires – preternatural blood-drinking ghouls – living among us? That they aren’t just myths or psychotic humans?’
He stared into my eyes. ‘That’s exactly what I’m telling you. What’s more, I’m prepared to put my money where my mouth is. I can show you. I think the vampires have Emerald Addison. There’s a coven in one of the clubs downtown, a former church, called The Crypt.’
That’s the club Midnight mentioned.
‘The vampire I talked to – Ian, who’s probably back in London now – told me that the group and their leader have been here for years, and they keep a low profile. Recently some new bloodsuckers, the ones I’m pursuing, have come to town and they’re killers. Ian said that the one he’s most afraid of is called Bryce.’
At the sound of his name, my heart stopped and my blood ran cold. I visibly started in my seat, sucked in all the air in the room, and gasped.