"What is this?" the creature exclaimed. It had sunk its fangs into the neck of a delirious victim and taken a long draw. "In my two hundred years on this planet, I've never tasted blood as delicious as this!"
His host, a fellow ancient vampire, laughed, and said, "Cornelius, you need to get out more. We have perfected a system that elevates even type O, the lowest quality human blood, to something extraordinary."
"Tell me how you do it?"
Percival chuckled, and said, "If I did, I'd have to kill you and I don't know where I'd find a stake large enough!"
^^^
Tom parked the commercial van on the residential street. He went around to the back, opened a door, and killed time. He pretended to gather the tools a cable repair man would need.
He wasn't a cable guy. He was dressed like one in jeans, a hardhat, work boots, and a bright yellow safety vest. He was, in fact, a private investigator.
He was working a case. Nothing exciting or important. The client suspected his wife was unfaithful. He wanted solid proof before confronting her. He wanted embarrassing incriminating pictures that would prove he was the aggrieved party. He was hoping to avoid paying alimony and losing the house.
A blue Volvo sedan pulled into the driveway of the house across the street. Tom glanced at the license plate and said, "That's the car."
A big breasted blonde wearing stiletto heels exited the car. Tom said, "That's the target."
He snapped a still of her shaking her ass and walking up to the door. She rang the bell. A man answered. Tom couldn't hear their conversation. They greeted each other with a face-sucking kiss. Tom immortalized their meeting with a photo.
The woman went inside.
Tom put on his tool belt and crossed the street. He said to himself, "The intel about them meeting on Tuesdays at two was correct. Let's see if their next stop is the bedroom."
He put cleats on his boots and climbed a utility pole. He had scoped the area out earlier. From the pole, he would have a good view into the master bedroom. He waited.
A few minutes later, the cheating wife and her lover appeared. Tom took photos of them while they kissed and stripped. When they were naked the man groped her ass and tried to swallow a breast.
"Buddy, you'll never get all that in your mouth. This girl has big ones."
He took more when the target got on her knees and sucked her paramour's penis. Tom chuckled, and thought, "This must be real love. She's not with him for his equipment. That's a small dick."
The couple got into bed and fooled around. Tom memorialized it. He looked hard into the telephoto lens and said, "I see something shiny." He adjusted the long-distance focus, laughed, and said, "She has a plug in her ass! Ha!"
He took many pictures of them fornicating. When they were doing it doggie style, Tom rubbed the erection in his pants and thought, "Blondie, isn't a true blonde. She has dark pubes. She also has a nice butt. That reminds me, I need to call Wendy and make an appointment to poke her."
Tom climbed down the pole, returned to the van, and stored his gear.
His phone rang. He answered it and said, "What's up, Jordan?" She was his twenty-four-year-old niece and co-worker.
"Tom!" she shouted.
His niece and nephew called him Tom. The family had learned that shouting 'Uncle Tom!' in public spaces wasn't a good idea.
"I need you to meet me at Fourth and Fergusson. I saw a bounty guy! Hurry."
The Feds, states, cities, and private citizens promised cash payments for information that leads to the conviction of wanted criminals. Tom took it an extra step. He would apprehend the criminals and turn them over to the police. The reward money was a useful windfall that kept their business going.
"I'm on my way," Tom said. He opened the gun safe in the back of the van, got his Glock, and loaded it. He hurriedly drove ten blocks, saw his niece's Rav4, parked near it, and got in.
Jordan looked scared which was understandable. She didn't confront criminals. Her job was to answer phones and do background checks. Tom was focused. He had spent twenty years in the military, mainly in the United States Army Special Forces. He did field work, and bad guys didn't scare him.
He didn't chastise her for following a felon. There'd be time for that later. He asked, "Who did you see?"
Jordan showed him a picture on her phone, and said, "Smitty Blackstone."
The bounty on this thug was $50,000. He was wanted for a series of bank robberies. The reason the amount was so high was because on his last heist, he pistol whipped a female bank teller, sending her to the hospital.
"Where is he?"
She pointed, and said, "He's in that abandoned building. I saw him in an alley by the projects, buying drugs, and I followed him here."
Tom frowned, showing his displeasure.
"I know you think I should steer clear of the bad parts of town, but business has been slow. If I can spot a bounty, it'll cover our rent and payroll. Smitty is worth a tidy sum. Do you think you can handle him by yourself?"
Tom nodded, and said to himself, "I'll have to. If we call the cops, they'll arrest him and find some excuse to screw us out of the reward."
"Be careful," his niece said.
"Always," Tom said. He pulled out his gun, checked that it was loaded, and he got out of the car. He said, "Lock the doors and stay in the car." Jordan nodded.
Tom stealthily entered the building. He was careful where he stepped, not because he was worried that he'd twist an ankle, he didn't want to make any noise that could alert Smitty.
Tom peeked through the doorway. He saw his target holding a lighter under a spoonful of heroin. Tom thought, "This is a good time to approach him. He's unarmed and distracted."
Tom crept in silently. He kept a sharp eye on his prey.
The lighter flicked off. Smitty put it on the ground and reached for his syringe.
"Don't move!" Tom shouted. "I have a gun on you."
Smitty paused and looked at Tom. He saw a gun pointed at him. He gave a smug smile and said, "All right. Stay calm. You have the drop on me. You don't look like a cop."
"I'm not. I'm a private eye and I'm a damn good shot. Don't do anything foolish."
"I won't. Do you want me on my knees or on the floor?"
"Kneel and I'll cuff you."
Smitty lowered his body and knelt. He dropped the spoon. It clattered on the concrete floor. Using that as a distraction, Smitty grabbed his gun and pointed it toward Tom.
