04

Chapter 2 - Lions, Tigers, and Bears oh my!

June 12, 12:22 a.m.

The first thing Detective Pearson became aware of, before he even opened his eyes, was the stinging pain in the back of his head. "What...?"

"About time you're awake. You know, for a cop, you sure aren't that tough." He felt the stinging sensation again, this time accompanied by somebody applying firm pressure to the back of his head.

It took him a moment to place the voice. His thoughts were still scattered to the wind. "Elizabeth? Where am I? What are you doing?"

"Making sure your brains don't spill out the back of your head," she replied, her cool voice tinged with amusement. "Now hold still."

He heard something splash and then the stinging sensation came again. It took his mind a few moments to register the alcohol smell. The firm pressure against his head finally made sense. She must be cleaning his head wound with alcohol.

He took the moments in between wincing from pain to study his surroundings. He appeared to be sitting on a black leather sofa. Elizabeth was standing behind him. The carpet under his feet was as white as the walls. The only decoration he could see from his vantage point was a pair of axes nailed across each other on the wall. How odd.

"Nice...uh...house," he said lamely, trying to fill the silence. He winced as she swiped the cloth across his scalp.

"It's an apartment," she replied. "You really must have been out of it on the way back."

Pearson tried to reorder his scrambled thoughts as best as he could. "I think I remember you helping me down the alley. After that...it's blank."

"And before that?"

He wasn't sure, but he felt a sudden tension in the air, as though she was preparing to add to his injuries. The cloth was held still against his head. He swallowed nervously before answering. "You mean that guy with red demon eyes and long fangs? Nope, don't remember any of that."

He felt the tension behind him ease somewhat as she chuckled. "You're taking this remarkably well."

"Taking what exactly?"

"That's the best I can do for you," she answered instead. She walked around the couch and into his line of vision. She tossed the cloth on the coffee table and dropped into the leather armchair across from him. "You will probably need to go see a doctor. I think you suffered a concussion."

"It feels like it," he mumbled. He felt the back of his head gingerly with his fingers. He winced when he found the wound. "How is it?"

"You'll live." Her mouth curved upward on one side. Her fierce green eyes almost seemed to sparkle. "Didn't even need stitches."

He poked the wound again and winced as his head throbbed. "Still hurts."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "My god, how did you ever become a cop? Haven't you ever been shot? Stabbed?"

"I twisted my ankle once, chasing a drug dealer. It was pretty nasty, too, all swollen and purple."

Elizabeth seemed to struggle to keep from laughing. "How did you ever survive?"

"I pushed back the pain," Pearson said nonchalantly, leaning back into the sofa. He put his arms up on the top of the couch.

"Comfortable?" Elizabeth asked. "Would you like some tea? Crackers?"

"Some answers would be nice."

The playfulness drained quickly from her face; an emotionless mask replaced it. "I thought it was obvious. You're the lucky survivor of your first vampire attack."

Pearson, who to this point had been refusing to think about the attack by hiding behind his wit and charm, suddenly felt a cold chill creep down his back. He remembered the body in the morgue and his earlier interrogation of Elizabeth.

"My god, you're not joking, are you? You're seriously telling me that I just fought a vampire? An actual vampire?"

"I tried to warn you," Elizabeth said. There was no pity in her voice. "I told you that the body in the morgue wasn't human."

"And you really expected me to believe that?" Pearson asked. He was too frightened to care that his voice sounded shrill. "Jesus, woman, a real vampire! A real, blood-sucking vampire!"

He got off the couch, his fear pushing him to move around, to deny the truth he saw with his own eyes. He paced around her living room as he tried to come to terms with the awful truth.

Elizabeth sat impassively, her eyes following his every movement. He felt that sudden tension again, like a hunter waiting to pounce. He stilled his nervous pacing and stared down at Elizabeth. "Vampires?"

She nodded. "Welcome to a whole new world. I'm sorry, but there's no going back now."

Pearson sat back down on the couch and buried his head in his hands. "How? How is this possible?" he muttered into the silence.

"If you're strong enough, I will tell you what you need to know to survive from here on out." He looked up at her. Her green eyes bored into his. He didn't know what she saw, but it seemed to satisfy her. A small smile tugged the corners of her mouth.

"Why tell me anything? Who are you?" Pearson demanded.

"I'm somebody who doesn't want to send you back out there unprepared. Otherwise, I might as well kill you now. So the question remains; are you strong enough for this?"

She held his gaze and didn't look away. Pearson plumbed the depths of his soul for his answer. His heart raced rapidly as she continued to stare at him. He noticed again, even in his hysteria, how beautiful she was.

He had his answer. "I want to know everything."

She nodded, as though expecting no other answer. "There exists a world outside your own, a 'supernatural' world, if you will. You just met one such inhabitant of that world tonight."

"Just one? There's more?"

"Vampires are only the most popular of the monsters that call this world home. There's also were-beasts."

"Were-beasts?" Pearson rolled the unfamiliar word around his mouth. "What's that?"

"Shape-shifters. You probably know one of the forms they take; wolves."

"Wait--werewolves? Oh god, this just keeps getting better and better." He dropped his head into his hands again. He hoped with all his heart that this was just some weird nightmare.

"Do you want to hear this or not?" Elizabeth's face held no comfort for him. Her gaze was as cold as the Rocky Mountains.

Pearson did his best to push his fear aside and nodded. "I'm sorry, go on."

God, I hope there's nothing more! Why can't there ever be cute, cuddly teddy bears instead of monsters?

"Like I said, wolves are just one form they take. They can also take the forms of tigers, jaguars, lions, eagles, bears--"

"Wait," Pearson interrupted, unable to stop himself. He almost winced at the flash of annoyance in her face. "Bears? So, what, there are...were-bears?" His voice cracked on the last word.

For a moment, he almost cursed his stupid humor. It had gotten him into trouble too many times growing up. Teachers hated a smartass. But Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, were-bears."

Pearson smiled more in relief than at his own joke. "I'm sorry, go on."

She eyed him for a moment, as though waiting for him to interrupt. "There are dozens of other supernatural creatures but, thankfully, nowhere near as prolific as vampires and were-beasts."

"Why is that?" Pearson asked, after recognizing that she gave him room to ask.

"Because supernatural creatures are highly territorial. Take the were-beasts, for instance. Right now, only were-tigers and were-lions roam this city's hunting grounds. The were-tigers control the north and west and the were-lions control the south and east."

Pearson shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't understand. There are factions of were-beasts that are against each other?"

"The were-beasts are highly territorial. They're only loyal to members of their own species. Everyone else, they kill. It's their natures."

"Why are they fighting over territories?"

"Because large cities like this are prime hunting grounds," Elizabeth replied, her eyes gauging Pearson's reactions to each new revelation. She was enjoying this, he saw. That was almost enough to quell his fear.

"Hunting grounds for what?" Pearson asked, though he had a good idea where this was going.

"I thought that was obvious. They hunt vampires."

Just as he thought. The revelation sent a shiver of unease down his spine. "So...does that mean...that you're a were-tiger or something?"

Elizabeth smiled at him and didn't answer. Pearson thought he could see pointy teeth but that could've been his imagination. Regardless, her silence was making the hairs on his arms stand up.

"Well?" he dared ask, as she continued to smile at him, like a cat smiling at the mouse between its paws. Or maybe like a tiger?

"No," she finally answered, her smile stretching. "Sorry, did I scare you?"

"You really have a sick sense of humor, don't you?" Pearson asked, as he struggled to control his heartbeat.

I wonder what a were-tiger would look like...

"Sorry," she said, but she didn't look very apologetic.

"So," Pearson said, once he got his pulse down below danger levels, "what is your role in all of this? Are you some kind of vampire hunter?"

The smirk slowly faded from Elizabeth's face and was replaced by a guarded look. She sat on the edge of the armchair and leaned toward him. "Look, Detective Pearson, the reason I brought you here and patched you up is because I wanted to make sure you didn't go back out there blindly. Once you saw what you saw...well, let's just say nothing would have ever been the same. But as far as I'm concerned, that's all you need to know."

"But--"

Elizabeth cut him off with a fierce glare. "Knowledge is deadly, Detective Pearson. There are some things better left unsaid."

Pearson swallowed his objections and nodded. He got that same feeling again; the feeling back when he first met her in the interrogation room. She was a very, very deadly woman. "I understand."

Her face softened somewhat as she continued. "Vampires are very deadly creatures, Detective. Forget about what you read or seen in movies. They are very, very hard to kill. If you ever come across one, run. Run as fast as you can and pray that it doesn't follow you."

The seriousness of her face and the urgency of her tone were enough to send his heart racing again. He nervously wiped his clammy hands on his pants. "But how were you able to kill that vampire in the alley? Before I surprised you, you had him firmly in your grasp."

Something seemed to pass across her face. He couldn't tell what, exactly, but his question had surprised her. "That's different."

"How?"

Her fierce glare almost knocked him over this time.

Can she call that glare up at will? Or do all women know how to do that?

"Remember what I said about knowledge," she warned him.

But this time he wasn't going to be cowed. The overwhelming helplessness of his situation was starting to anger him, which was a rare feeling for him. "But what if I do run into a vampire and I can't escape? I need to know a way to fight them! Please, tell me."

Her glare slowly lost its edge. She sighed wearily and sat back in her chair. "I can't help you with that. I was...born differently. I can use magic, as strange as that might sound."

"Magic?" Pearson repeated stupidly. He had a sudden image of her waving a wand and battling Lord Voldemort. "You mean...like a witch?"

"Call it what you will," she replied, somewhat coldly. "Witch, sorceress, whatever makes you feel more comfortable. I can use magic. That's the bottom line. It helps me battle vampires. Without it, they would kill me as easily as you would kill a bug. I'm sorry, that's probably not the response you wanted."

"Magic..." Pearson repeated again. He hardly heard what she had said. A long suppressed childhood dream about becoming a wizard popped into his mind. He marveled at the longing he suddenly felt. "Can I learn how to use magic?"

She must have read something from his face because her fierce eyes turned almost tender. "You don't have the Spark, I'm sorry," she said, a faint hint of compassion coloring her voice. "You can't learn."

The small hope that had briefly buried itself in his heart flickered and died. It was silly, really, to get his hopes up like that. Just a stupid childhood fantasy. "It's ok," he said, in his most manly voice.

She didn't look convinced by his false bravado; a hint of that strange tenderness lingered in her gaze. "Vampires," she continued mercifully, obviously sensing his awkwardness, "are vile creatures. They need to consume the lifeblood of humans in order to sustain their existence. They will feed without remorse, without pity. They consider themselves to be the top of the food chain."

"How does a person become a vampire?" Pearson asked, hoping to keep her talking on the off chance that she might let something slip about herself.

"Some movies and books get it right, believe it or not. They have to bite the person. This sends a poison into their bloodstream. It paralyzes the person by overloading the pleasure centers in the brain. This poison also carries one-half of the genetic infection and prepares the body for the change. The vampire will then introduce their own blood into the victim, which contains the other half, and thereby completing the infection."

"Infection?" Pearson mused on the word for a moment. "You make it sound almost like...science."

"Not quite," Elizabeth said, smirking. "The infection is supernatural in origin. The infected blood carries parasites into the brainstem. There, the parasites converge and form into one, larger demonic parasite. This demon controls the brain using magical energy. The vampire no longer has a need for their heart, lungs, or any other vital organs. Magical energy sustains them."

Pearson flashed back to the discussion he had with Nancy, the medical examiner. "The M.E. said that the vampire you killed looked like he had been dead for years...that all of its organs had blackened and shriveled."

"Yes," she said, nodding her head at him as though impressed by his detective skills. Oddly, he felt very proud. "When a vampire dies, the magical energy that had sustained their body for all those years disappears and entropy comes roaring back, claiming in minutes that which it should have had years ago."

Pearson's mind swam as he tried to connect all the dots. This is why he became a detective; to solve puzzles like this. Well, maybe not exactly like this. "So a vampire has to feed because..."

"The lifeblood of humans is what feeds the parasite," Elizabeth finished for him. "It requires that energy to sustain itself on this plane of existence. This source of energy is also what gives a vampire its powers. Think of it like a battery, storing energy for later use."

"Vampires have powers?" Pearson suddenly recalled how that vampire in the alley slammed him against the wall. He had never even seen the creature move. And then later it crumpled his gun like it was made out of paper...

"Oh, yes," Elizabeth said, her eyes staring at something he couldn't see. "The older the vampire, the more powers it has. Fledgling vampires have the basic utility pack; superhuman senses, strength, speed. They can see in infrared and can use a type of hypnosis to take over your mind. And that's just until they reach 100 years as a vampire."

"Why? What happens then?"

"They enter into some type of transformational state," she said, her eyes still so very far away. She shook her head and seemed to snap back into reality. "But luckily they aren't many older vampires around. They're very jealous of their power."

"And how do you kill them?" Pearson was pretty sure the answer would mean very little to him. He hoped to never see another vampire in his life again. Still, just in case...

"Separating the parasite from the host is the only way," she replied, making a slashing gesture to her throat. "Cut off the head, burn the body to a crisp, and anything else that completely eradicates the body. They are also highly allergic to silver; all supernatural creatures are. A large amount can severely incapacitate a vampire, though it won't kill them."

"And you fight them," Pearson said, shaking his head. He had a newfound respect for her. "I don't know whether to admire you or lock you up."

She chuckled. "You already tried to lock me up once. See where that got you?"

He smiled at the memory. "I would still like to know how you managed to--"

"I think I've said enough," she cut him off, her face stony once again. Pearson winced at his stupidity. His eagerness got the better of him again. She stood up. "I'm sorry, but it's late and I need to get up early."

Pearson slowly stood up. He tried thinking quickly on his feet but came up with nothing. Shrugging resignedly, he walked toward the apartment door. "I was hoping you would tell me more about the were-beasts."

"They don't hunt humans , so you need not worry about them," she told him, as she herded him toward the door. "In fact, I used to date one."

Pearson stopped by the doorway and raised his eyebrow. "Now that sounds like a good story."

Elizabeth smirked at him. "Maybe another time."

"Oh, so there will be another time?" he asked playfully.

"Goodbye, Detective," she responded instead, a slight smile tugging her lips. "Go see a doctor about that hard head of yours."

"I will," he assured her. "Goodnight, Elizabeth. I still don't know who you are but I hope to hear from you again."

He turned and began to make his way down the hallway outside her apartment. Her voice brought him up short. "Gabrielle," she said, and it sounded like she had to struggle just to say it. "My real name is Gabrielle."

He turned back toward her. "Gabrielle," he repeated, tasting the name on his tongue. He smiled at her. "Goodnight, Gabrielle."

She snorted and closed the door. Pearson stood staring at the door for a long moment.

Vampires, werewolves, monsters and boogeymen. You should turn around and run, Robert. Just tuck your tail between your legs and get the hell out of this city.

He stared a moment longer and turned to leave. The image of Gabrielle smiling at him refused to fade from his mind. What were vampires and werewolves compared to a woman like her?

Smiling, Pearson hummed to himself as he rode down the elevator.

***

Chapter 3 - The Lion and the Gazelle

June 12, 9:02 a.m.

Dr. Daniel Gray sat quietly at his desk as he tried to finish the latest round of paperwork. The events of the night before kept intruding into his mind, making his attempt to finish his paperwork a struggle. The sight of Lily's beautiful and brave face kept swimming up from the depths of his soul.

He sighed in defeat and threw his pen down. Lily's face was only one of many. She was just the newest torment, the freshest face. Others still haunted him, one in particular more than the others. The very first victim.

The papers on the desk fluttered for a moment. He looked up and found a woman standing in front of his desk.

"Hello, Daniel."

He would know that voice even if it came from the mouth of a demon. In a way, it did. She was just as beautiful as always. She had Shifted since the last time he saw her. She looked Brazilian, or from some other South American country.

Her hair was long, straight, and pitch black. She wore a tight black blouse, unbuttoned enough to show off a wealth of tanned cleavage. The skin-tight black skirt only reached a few inches down her thighs and accentuated the curve of her hips and ass. Her dark, black eyes almost smoldered in their intensity.

"It's been a long time, Amara."

"Forty-two years, in fact," she purred. She walked slowly by his desk, one long finger dragging across the smooth surface. She stopped by his window and stared out. "I've missed you."

"I wish I could say the same," he said. He didn't want to provoke her, but, at the same time, he wasn't going to lie.