10 comments/ 19355 views/ 24 favorites Soul's Divide Ch. 01 By: austin_erotica June 10 11:20 p.m. Detective Robert Pearson looked away from the two-way mirror and glanced at his partner. "So, what do ya' think?" Detective Jeremy Alveraz shook his head slowly as he gazed through the mirror. "She's hard to read. She's very calm, I'll give her that." He paused and squinted as he leaned toward the glass. "Does it look like she's smirking?" Pearson looked back at the woman sitting in the interrogation room. He thought he saw what his partner was talking about. The woman was sitting with her arms crossed and had what looked to be a very faint smirk on the end of her lips. She had one leg crossed over the other, her foot dangling in the air. The only evidence of her true emotional state was the way her foot bounced impatiently. "It does look like she's smirking," Pearson replied slowly. "And she seems impatient. I don't know...both of those things don't make sense. You wouldn't think she had just been arrested for a gruesome murder, the way she looks right now." "Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Alveraz replied. "She's definitely too calm for my tastes. A fucking ice queen, look at her." Pearson nodded in agreement. It was a shame, really, that a hard, beautiful woman like that might be guilty of murder. She wasn't some ditzy girl, this one. This was a real woman. Her blonde-streaked brown hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She wore tight black jeans with a sleek black leather jacket. Her face was pale, her cheeks sharp, and her mouth was thin yet sensuous. Sharp green eyes were staring directly at the two-way mirror, as though she could see right through it. No, this woman was definitely not some delicate flower. A fucking ice queen, maybe, but a damn beautiful one. "I think we made her wait long enough," Pearson said, nodding at the woman through the glass. Alveraz gathered his folders and followed him to the next room. As soon as the door opened, the woman shifted her sharp gaze directly toward Pearson. Damn, I wish I could stare into those eyes as I... He cleared his mind as quickly as he could. He hoped the woman couldn't tell his thoughts. He learned a long time ago that the clever perps could read people like books. God help me, if I'm blushing like a schoolboy... "Good evening, detectives," the woman said, her smirk more pronounced now. Pearson glanced sideways at his partner. Alveraz hated perps who had a smart mouth. If this interrogation was going to be productive, he figured he better take control now. "Good evening?" Pearson asked, deciding to play along with her game. "I don't know, I think that depends on what side of the table you're sitting on, don't you agree?" The woman leaned back in her chair, her green-eyed stare boring into his blue eyes. Pearson almost glanced away from that look. He knew, suddenly, that this woman was very, very dangerous. "Well, I should say it was a very pleasant evening until I was dragged here." "That tends to happen when you butcher a man to death," Alveraz growled. Pearson almost sighed. Most perps thought that Alveraz liked to play the role of bad cop during interrogations. They quickly came to learn that Detective Alveraz simply didn't play games. "I did?" the woman asked, her eyebrows arched in surprise. "That's news to me." Alveraz opened his mouth angrily but Pearson grabbed his arm and shook his head. He stared steadily at the woman. "Let's keep things simple. What's your name?" She chuckled. "I take it my fingerprints didn't show up on your system? My face on the security camera not showing up on any databases? But let's keep things friendly for now, shall we? You can call me Elizabeth." "Alright, Elizabeth," Pearson said quickly, as Alveraz once again looked on the verge of going off on the woman. "Are you aware that several eyewitnesses saw a woman matching your description chase a man down the street, tackle him, and then decapitate him with a machete?" "Is that why I'm here?" she said, waving her hand casually. "Don't worry about that; it was nothing." "Nothing?" Alveraz shouted. He stood up, put his fists on the table, and leaned in toward her. "The man also showed signs of severe torture! Several areas of his body were covered in third-degree burns. Do you consider that 'nothing' as well?" He opened his folder and slammed picture after picture down in front of her. Each one showed different angles of a badly burned, decapitated corpse. Pearson couldn't help but admire the woman, Elizabeth, as she ignored the pictures and stared calmly up at the enraged face of Alveraz. "I'm sorry, but is that a crime?" she asked innocently, glancing over at Pearson. Pearson frowned at her, not quite understanding what game she was playing. Was she just simply nuts? "The torture and murder of another human being are indeed crimes." "Ah," she said, raising a finger as though she had just won a point. "So you agree that the law clearly states that it's illegal to murder another human being?" Pearson shared a brief glance with his partner. Why had she emphasized human being? "Yes," he said slowly. The interrogation was quickly getting out of hand. Who was this woman? Elizabeth smirked at him. "Then I'm not guilty of a crime. I didn't kill or torture a human being." She jabbed her finger down on a photo for emphasis. "The body down in the morgue might say differently," Alveraz growled. He leaned in even closer, his face barely inches away from hers. "Or are you just trying to establish an insanity defense? Because the way I see it, Elizabeth,you're just one cold bitch." "Alveraz," Pearson said warningly. Alveraz stared at Elizabeth for a few more heartbeats before sitting back down with a huff. Pearson looked back at Elizabeth. "My partner's right; the body down in the morgue is indeed human, I'm afraid. So it was illegal to kill him, you see?" Elizabeth put her arms on the table and leaned toward him. Her intense stare held him in place. "Are you sure? You might want to wait for your medical examiner's report before making a statement like that." "What do--" "It doesn't matter, no report will ever be written," she sighed, cutting him off. She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. "What time is it?" "We're asking the questions here!" Alveraz said, his jaw locked tight. He was very close to exploding, Pearson knew. "It's 11:38 p.m.," Pearson said, glancing at his watch. "Do you have somewhere to be?" he asked rhetorically. "Damn, he's late," she muttered, apparently to herself. She looked up at Pearson. "Any minute now, your medical examiner will be visited by somebody much higher up the food chain than anybody here. The minute after that, this person will pay a visit to your Captain. And then your Captain will come in here and tell you that your services are no longer required." "Oh great," Alveraz said, rolling his eyes. "Looks like we got another nut-bag who thinks they're a government spook. Listen lady, it's late and I don't want to waste another minute talking to a nut-bag. So do us a favor and ask for a lawyer already." Pearson remained silent and studied Elizabeth intently. She certainly seemed confident when she spoke. He hadn't detected any tell-tale signs that she was lying. This woman was an enigma wrapped inside another enigma. "You'll have to forgive my partner, Elizabeth. We hear that all the time. Usually it's just a perp who wants to waste our time by acting like a smartass. But you're not wasting our time, are you?" Alveraz snorted. "Come on, Pearson, do you really believe--" A knock on the door cut him off. Captain Anderson stuck his head into the room. "This interview is done, gentleman. The lady is free to leave." "About time," Elizabeth muttered as she stood up. "But Captain!" Alveraz started. He fell silent as the Captain raised his hand. "I don't want to hear it, Alveraz. The order came from up high. It's out of our hands." The door swung fully open as the captain strode away. A very serious looking man in a black suit was standing across from the door. Elizabeth stopped by the door and looked back at Pearson. She smiled teasingly and walked away with the man in the black suit. "Can you believe that shit?" Alveraz said, punching the wall. "How can they just let a murderer walk free? Who the hell was she?" Pearson shook his head. There was something odd going on. Since when did the government rescue an agent who had brutally tortured and decapitated another person? Was the victim a terrorist or something? Was she in the CIA? "Damn, she was beautiful," he whispered to himself. The image of her teasing smile refused to fade from his mind. Who the hell was that woman? *** "You were sloppy, Gabrielle," Roberts whispered as they walked out of the police station. Gabrielle didn't respond until they were safely in Roberts' black SUV. She buckled her seatbelt and let out a frustrated sigh. "That damn vamp was crafty as hell. I never thought a vamp could escape the bonds I used." Roberts stayed silent for several minutes. Gabrielle admired his control; she knew he longed to give her a verbal lashing. "None of this was necessary," he said finally, teeth gritted. "You know I'm sympathetic about your search for your mother's killer, but if you continue to torture vampires for information instead of just killing them..." "What?" she asked angrily. "Are you going to revoke my field status? Make me push papers?" He shook his head. "No, if we did that then you would simply hunt vampires on your own. That would only put us more at risk, which is why we recruited you in the first place. This way, we can keep an eye on you." "Then what?" She felt her temper give way slowly to fear. Roberts was looking uncharacteristically serious. "We would be forced to classify you as a rogue agent," he said reluctantly. "You would put a death sentence of my head?" she gasped. "I wouldn't," he growled angrily. "Why can't you just follow the rules? The vampire that killed your mother is probably dead by now, anyways." Gabrielle folded her arms in an attempt to reign in her temper. She wanted nothing more than to smash her fists into something. How dare he talk about her mother like this? "I'm done talking about this," she huffed. Roberts was wise enough to hold his tongue. He drove on in silence until he pulled up next to her apartment building. He put the car in park and turned toward her. "Listen, Gabrielle, I'm not only your boss but also you're partner. I have your back, you know that. Just...try to follow the rules from now on, ok? We don't mind you conducting your search for the vampire that killed your mother, as long as you abide by our rules." Gabrielle opened the door and got out. She leaned in through the open window. "Yeah, I know," she sighed. "I don't want to get you in trouble." "Thanks," Roberts replied, a relieved smile spreading across his face. He looked much better when he smiled, Gabrielle thought. His dark brown eyes seemed to shine when he did. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, partner," Gabrielle said, thumping the car. "Give that girl of yours a hug for me." He waved as he drove off. Gabrielle turned toward her apartment building, already lost in her thoughts. That vampire tonight didn't know anything about her mother's killer. She knew he was being honest. Vampires tended to be honest when their flesh was sizzling like a steak on the grill. *** June 11, 12:03 a.m. Detective Pearson pushed opened the doors that read Medical Examiner and walked in. "Hey, Nancy," he said, as he strolled toward her. Nancy didn't even look up from her clipboard as she continued to write her notes. She stood in front of a metal table, the body on it, thankfully, covered by a sheet. "Pearson," she greeted him. "I haven't seen you in a while." "Business has been slow," he replied, smirking. Nancy turned toward him and flashed her own smile. "It makes me wonder why we even continue to have you on the payroll." "Cute," he replied. Nancy turned back to her notes, allowing Pearson a moment to study her. She was a fine looking woman, truth be told. A tall Hispanic woman, her black hair was cut short, barely below her jaw and framed both sides of her face. She wore her customary scrubs, but that didn't prevent anyone from seeing her womanly curves. As though sensing his thoughts, she turned back toward him, her dark eyes twinkling. "Is there anything I can do for you?" "Actually, there is. I was hoping you had a chance to examine a body earlier tonight. It was a man. He was decapitated and badly burned." "Ah, one of those," she said, her face suddenly serious. "One of those?" "Yeah, decapitated bodies. Every once in a while, some men in darks suits will turn up and 'confiscate' the body from me. Usually, I haven't even gotten around to examining the body. I don't know how they get here so fast." "Damn," Pearson muttered, running his hands through his brown hair. "So you didn't see anything?" "I said usually," Nancy replied, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "Tonight has been a slow night for me. I started examining the body almost as soon as it came in. They turned up after a few minutes, though." "Great! I could use any information you discovered." "Can I ask why?" she asked. "No corpse means no case. It's not our worry anymore. Those government assholes probably swept it under the rug. Our tax dollars hard at work." "Just indulge me," he replied, in his sweetest voice. Nancy snorted. "Fine. What do you want to know?" "Did you find anything...peculiar about the body?" "You can say that again," she replied, her voice dropping dramatically. "I've seen some weird things in my time here, but this was beyond anything I've ever seen." The words sent a weird shiver of apprehension through him. Just calm down. You're letting this whole thing spook you. She was probably CIA or something. "What was so weird about it?" He almost blushed when he heard the hitch in his voice. "Well, for one thing, he didn't die from decapitation. I could see that right off. There was very little sign of bleeding. The blood around the neck had already coagulated." "So, he was already dead," Pearson mused under his breath. "Were the burns the cause of death, then?" "I told you I found something weird. Not dying from decapitation wasn't weird. Dying from the burns wouldn't be weird, either. No, what freaked me out was that this man appeared to have died years ago. Silence. Pearson continued to stare at Nancy for several moments, waiting for the punch line. When it didn't come, he swallowed before speaking. "Surely you're joking." Nancy shook her head, a hint of fear in her eyes. "No, Pearson, I wish I was. This man's skin was like old leather, like a mummy's. It was as though it had been wrapped up for years and suddenly exposed to air." "Maybe...maybe the fire..." Pearson trailed off. He didn't even know how to begin to process this information. "It wasn't the burns," Nancy said, shaking her head vehemently. "I cut open his chest and got a good look inside before the men in suits barged in. What I saw..." "What? What did you see?" Nancy took a deep breath. "It was his organs, Pearson. His heart. His lungs. His kidneys. They were shriveled up. All black and dead." Pearson slowly backed into the table behind him, his hand reaching out to steady his suddenly weak legs. He felt something soft give way underneath his hand. He jumped away, squawking like a girl. It was another body covered with a sheet. Nancy arched a cool eyebrow at him. "Get a hold of yourself, Pearson. You're going to scare the women." "The organs were shriveled?" Pearson asked, in stunned disbelief. "But how is that possible? How was the man walking around?" "I don't think either me or you really want to know the answer to that." Who was that woman? A great weight of fear slowly dropped into his stomach, turning his insides icy cold. Nancy was right; he wasn't sure he wanted to know. *** June 11, 8:58 a.m. Dr. Daniel Gray glanced at his watch. She should be here any minute. What's taking her so long? He realized he was tapping his fingers impatiently on his desk. He took a deep breath and forced himself to be calm. The hunger was getting strong but he was still in control. If everything went according to plan, he would be able to feed tonight. He almost sighed in relief when he heard a knock on his door. "Come in." Lily Scott walked slowly into the room and sat down on the chair facing his desk. "Hello, Dr. Gray," she said quietly. "How are you feeling?" "I've had better days," she said, smiling sadly. Daniel nearly winced at his stupid question. Poor Lily Scott was feeling anything but well right now. She had dark circles under her eyes and her skin was pale. Still, she was beautiful. Her long, dark brown hair was pulled up in a knot. Her blue eyes stared firmly back at him. She wore an unremarkable gray shirt and blue jeans. She wore no makeup. Clearly, she had no desire to maintain herself. Why would she, when death was knocking at her door? "Thank you very much for coming, Lily. I didn't want to give you the results over the phone." Her shoulders sagged slightly. "It's not good, is it?" she asked, with a heartbreaking smile. Tears were threatening to escape down her cheeks. "It was stupid to think it was." Daniel looked down at her file, but he already knew what it said. He hated this part. "I'm sorry, Lily. The treatments didn't work. The cancer has spread." Lily nodded and wiped a tear off of her cheek. "W-where did it spread?" Daniel stared into her watery blue eyes. "Everywhere." Lily covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes crinkled in grief and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. Her hand shook as she took it off her mouth. "How long?" Daniel forced himself to continue to look into her eyes. He had to be strong for her. "One month, at best. We can try some experimental treatments...but that would only prolong your life by a few weeks at most." Lily waved her hand. "No," she whispered, her face firming. "No more treatments. I don't want to die hooked up to all kinds of machines. I'm going home. I fought the best I could these last two years. The fight's over now." "Lily...I'm sorry," Daniel offered. The injustice of it nearly made him vomit. She was so young and so beautiful. She deserved better than this. "Thank you, Dr. Gray. Thank you for everything. We did our best. You gave me two more years in this world. For that, I will be eternally grateful." Daniel hung his head. Lily's courage was simply amazing. Her ability to thank him as he gave her a death sentence was incredible. That was the strength that had sustained her for the past two years. I can make her end beautiful. I can give her that much at least. "Lily...what if I told you that you won't have to suffer? What if I offered you a way to die peacefully?" Lily stared uncertainly at him. She glanced toward his office door and then leaned in close. "Are you suggesting...euthanasia?" she whispered. "Something like that," Daniel replied. He chose his next words carefully. "I can make your end peaceful, nothing but pure bliss. You will pass with a smile on your face." Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her hands clutched her purse tightly. She let out a long breath. "Ok," she whispered. "You can make me go peacefully?" "Very peacefully," he assured her. She deserved that much. "When should we do this?" she asked nervously. She seemed scared by her own daring. She kept glancing nervously at the office door, as though afraid somebody was about to barge in and catch them. Soul's Divide Ch. 01 "Tonight." He knew he couldn't make it one more day without feeding. The monster inside of him had to be fed soon. Even at that moment, it wanted him to lunge across the desk and claim her now. "Tonight? I...I don't...I have so many things to prepare." She shook her head, uncertainty painting her face. Daniel leaned forward and held out his hand. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand on his. "I don't want to prolong your suffering. You've already prepared for this. There is nothing left to do." "Ok," she sighed. "I better go prepare for tonight. Thank you, Dr. Gray." She got up and made for the door. "Lily," Daniel said, stopping her. He got up and walked over to her. He slowed his breathing and extended his senses. His pupils enlarged to the point that they almost covered up the green iris of his eyes. Lily's face relaxed. Her eyes took on a glazed and unfocused look. Daniel stared straight into those eyes. "You will feel no pain," he told her, his voice echoing slightly in his own ears. "The cancer can't touch you anymore. You are free of it, forever." "Yes," she whispered, her pupils dilating as she took in his Command. A smile spread across her face. "Free." Daniel breathed out and shut his eyes. The Command would only last a day, but that's all he needed. The pain would never touch her again. He could give her that much. "I'll pick you up at your place tonight. I'll call you when it's time. Tell your parents that you love them." Lily shook her head and blinked her eyes. "I will, Dr. Gray. I hope I don't frighten them. I don't want them to know that tonight..." "I understand," Daniel said sympathetically. Lily looked sadly at him before turning around and walking out of his office. Daniel leaned against the door and sighed. One day, he hoped he would gather the courage to end his miserable existence. He tried telling himself that he only fed on people that were about to die anyways, but the excuse sounded hollow even to his own ears. He wasn't some angel of mercy. He didn't offer this to terminally ill people because he truly wanted to help ease their suffering. No, he did this to feed his hunger. He did this because he was a vampire. *** June 11, 8:55 p.m. Daniel pulled up to Lily's house and waited in his BMW. He saw the blinds on the living room open quickly and then close. Moments later, Lily opened the front door and looked back over her shoulder, apparently talking to her parents. He smiled appreciatively as she bounced down the sidewalk toward his car. She wore a tight blue dress that emphasized the subtle swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips. The dress came down to mid-thigh. She wore blue high-heels that gave her a couple more inches in height. For a woman who had battled cancer for the past two years, she was absolutely beautiful; very skinny and pale, perhaps, but still absolutely beautiful. "Hi," she breathed, as she sat down. Her eyes sparkled with something that almost resembled...excitement. "How're you feeling?" he asked, concerned. "Great!" she said, beaming. "I can't believe it; ever since I came back from your office, I haven't felt any pain at all! I think my body knows it doesn't have to fight for much longer." Daniel smiled. He was glad that his Command was giving her such peace. "What do you want to eat for you last meal? I can get us into any restaurant you want." "Well," she said shyly, "I was thinking..." "Yes?" "I want to go to my favorite burger place." She watched him intently for his reaction. "That's fine by me," he assured her. He was oddly touched by her choice. She didn't want to eat some fancy dinner; she wanted something comfortable that would remind her of the good times in her life. She beamed at him. "Thanks! I know I'm a little overdressed but I don't give a shit!" They rode to the burger joint in a comfortable silence. Daniel's hunger was dormant right now. It always was right before he fed. He looked sideways at Lily as he drove. She looked so at peace with her decision. Would he ever be at peace? Maybe at the end. Will I ever die? They stood at the counter and made their orders. Daniel no longer ate human food but he couldn't sit with her on her last night and not join her. So he ordered a small hamburger combo. Lily ordered the largest hamburger on the menu, delightfully telling the bewildered cashier that she no longer had to worry about calories. They squeezed into a corner table in the busy burger joint once they had their food. Daniel ate mechanically as he chatted with Lily. "What did you tell your parents?" Lily set down her hamburger, and for the first time all night, she looked sad and scared. "I told them I was going out with friends tonight to celebrate the good news I received today. I didn't tell them what happened this morning." "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "It's ok. I just worry about them. I hope my death doesn't hit them too hard. Can I tell you something that's bad?" "You can tell me anything, Lily," he assured her. She nodded gratefully. "I realized that for the past few months I've really been living for them and for all my friends. I think I was done fighting months ago. I'm very tired and very ready for this to be over. I want to be selfish now, you know?" "I can understand that," Daniel replied. "Death is a scary subject for people to think about. I've seen people on their death beds comforting their family. It should be the other way around. They aren't the ones dying." "I was so angry," she admitted. "I kept thinking, 'Why do I have to comfort everyone?' I had to be so strong. I didn't want to be strong. I wanted someone to hold me as I cried my eyes out and told them how scared I was." "And now you're ready?" Daniel asked. Lily nodded firmly. "I don't even want to tell any of my friends goodbye. I've been doing that for two years now." "You're very brave, Lily. It tears me up inside that the universe doesn't want a beautiful woman like you walking around." She smiled tremulously and looked down at her hamburger. "You're very kind. I know the cancer has robbed me of any beauty I might have once had...but thank you anyways." "Stop thinking like that!" Daniel snapped, somewhat angrily. Why couldn't she see? "Do you really think cancer can rob you of your beauty? The beauty within your soul shines through, believe me." Daniel paused to give her a moment to wipe her eyes before he continued. "And physically? Yeah, the cancer made you pretty skinny, but have you seen the looks you have been getting from the guys in this restaurant?" Lily snapped her head up in surprise. She turned her head slowly and caught several men peeking at her. The smile that spread across her face was transcendent. "Thank you, Dr...Daniel. What do you say we get out of here? I'm beginning to lose my nerve." "Ok," he agreed, his heart heavy in his chest. *** June 11, 10:02 p.m. Gabrielle sat in the shadowy corner of the bar and slowly scanned the room. There was a rowdy group of men and women at one table next to the jukebox. Her gaze lingered there for a moment before moving on. A group of three women were sipping on cocktails at the bar. They didn't appear to be anything more than working-class women enjoying a night out. Gabrielle took a good swallow of her Miller Lite and then sighed. She couldn't spot anything. Dives like this shitty bar were usually feeding grounds for vamps. But it seemed that her luck was bad tonight. Just as she was setting down her empty bottle of Miller Lite and getting up to leave, the door swung open. A man in dark clothing stood on the threshold, his gaze taking in his surroundings. Gabrielle leaned back into the shadows. The man seemed satisfied about something; he approached the bar with a smile on his face. The three women swiveled in their chairs to glance at him. "Demonus," Gabrielle breathed. She felt her fingers tingle as she swiped her hand slowly through the air. The air around the man seemed to shimmer for a moment. He snapped his head up and looked over at the corner where Gabrielle sat. His eyes glowed red and long fangs stuck out past his lip. But the image was wrong, distorted; it looked as though the ghastly image was superimposed over his normal face. Gabrielle smiled as the air stop shimmering and the man turned his perfectly normal head away. She had found her vampire. *** Detective Pearson leaned back in his chair while the people around him laughed at some raunchy joke. It was a good night to enjoy some beers and yuck it up with his coworkers, but something seemed off. That woman from the night before was still haunting his thoughts. "And so I said, drop it scumbag! And, whoosh, his pants drop around his ankles, his cock flapping in the wind, all sad and pathetic looking!" The table erupted in more laughter, but Pearson was only paying the slightest attention to it. He had just taken a sip of his beer, his gaze wondering around the bar, his thoughts still on that woman, when he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Someone in a shadowy corner of the bar waved their hand slowly through the air. Pearson lowered his beer slowly. I have to be imagining it. I've been thinking about her too much. That's why... But for the smallest of moments, Pearson could have sworn that he saw the outline of that woman, Elizabeth. If that was really her name. Whoever it was, they dropped the hand they were waving and leaned back into the shadows. Could that really have been her? Was he just imagining it? He was probably losing his mind. The revelations at the morgue were still causing icy jolts of unease whenever he thought about it. He was just seeing things. But that didn't mean he couldn't keep an eye on that shadowy figure just in case. *** The damn vamp wasn't even bothering to hide it. How many male models happened to walk into a lousy bar like this? He might as well have worn a sign around his neck. Of course, civilians beings what they were, couldn't have spotted a vampire if he hissed at them, fangs elongated and eyes glowing like burning coals. The three women were giggling at something he was saying, their eyes glazed and their cheeks rosy with primal lust. "Which one will it be?" Gabrielle muttered under her breath. Her money was on the blonde woman with the huge tits. As though on cue, the vamp suddenly leaned in toward the blonde woman and whispered by her ear. The woman giggled and blushed. Her two companions stared at her with envy and hatred. The vamp, his dark hair highly stylized, his cheeks sharp and his lips full, stood up and held out his hand. The blonde woman glanced at her friends. They nodded very reluctantly at her and then turned back toward their drinks, their faces sullen. The blonde woman gazed up at the vamp with reverence. She held out a shaky hand and he grasped it firmly and pulled her up. She laughed as he hugged her hip and marched her toward the door. "Showtime," Gabrielle whispered, a smile spreading across her face. She felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, the tingling fingers, the rapid heartbeat. It was time to ask some questions. *** Pearson almost fell out of his chair from shock. The woman had suddenly stood up and strode toward the door. It was her. There was no doubting it now. "Un-fucking-believable," Pearson breathed. He pushed back his chair and stood up. "Great! Another round of beers!" Alveraz called out. He raised his empty glass. The table cheered. "Yeah, yeah," Pearson said, waving his hand absently. He waited until the door swung shut before quickly making his way toward it. What the hell am I doing? This woman is very dangerous. Pearson found himself pushing open the door and walking out into the balmy night. He saw something slip down the alleyway next to the bar. Great, just follow her into an empty alleyway in the middle of the night, why don't you? Pearson never really did learn to listen to himself. He acted on instinct; he always had and probably always will. Captain said that made him a good cop but a bad liability. He was just thankful that he brought his piece with him. The familiar weight of the 9mm in its holster was a comfort. He patted the jacket where the gun was hidden and walked slowly into the alleyway. It wasn't a particularly long alleyway. The gym located next to the bar provided the other wall and the alley ended in a large brick fence. The fence at the end had one small light attached, which revealed a small circle underneath it. Otherwise, the alleyway was pitch black. Stars rarely shone down in this hellhole of a city, as if the city wasn't worthy of their light. Pearson tensed; a small grunt echoed off the walls of the alley. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his piece. He put his back against the wall and slowly inched his way toward the small pool of light. More grunts could be heard. Light suddenly flared, as though the sun decided to make an appearance. It was gone almost as soon as it arrived. It left spots swimming in Pearson's vision. He blinked rapidly to dispel them. "Help! Somebody help!" The scream was undoubtedly a woman's voice. Pearson cursed under his breath. There was no time to play it safe. It was hero time. Pearson hated being a hero. He raced toward the pool of light and saw flickering shadows as he drew close. It looked like two people struggling with each other. Pearson skidded to a stop. A blonde woman was crouched against the wall, her arms over her head and her body rocking back and forth. "Help," she whimpered, much quieter than before. Her large chest was rising and falling. She was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack. Pearson ignored her for the moment and held up his gun and pointed it toward the struggling figures. They emerged into the pool of light. It was her. Elizabeth. A man with dark hair was pinned against the wall, her forearm against his throat. His mouth was opened wide; large, pointed fangs gleamed in the light shining above him. "What the hell?" Pearson breathed. Elizabeth turned toward him. Her eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped. "Detective Pearson?" The man took advantage of the sudden distraction. With an unnerving roar, he broke her hold on him and backhanded her viciously. To Pearson's utter disbelief, Elizabeth flew bodily across the alleyway and hit the opposite wall hard. "Freeze!" Pearson shouted, the gun wavering in his grip. The blood was pounding in his ears, blocking out the sounds of the alley. The man stepped smoothly into the light, as though he didn't have a care in the world. Pearson gasped and took a step back. The man's eyes burned red, like the setting sun. "I said freeze," Pearson muttered, the words strangely thick on his tongue. The man, or whatever he was, smiled, the elongated teeth sticking out past his bottom lip. He took a step forward. Gunshots rang throughout the alleyway. Pearson was surprised to find that he was the one who fired them. The gunshots continued to ring in his ears. The man looked down at the three bullet holes in his chest. There was no blood, just three small, smoking holes in a clean white shirt. "Do you know how much this shirt cost me?" Before Pearson knew what was happening, his head banged against the wall behind him. His vision blackened for a moment before swimming nauseatingly back into view. His feet were a foot off the ground. An icy cold hand was clasped firmly around his neck, cutting off most of his air. "You must pay the price," the man hissed. His glowing red eyes were even more disturbing up close. The pupils were barely a pinprick in that sea of angry red. The fangs sticking out of his mouth look terribly sharp. Pearson noted, with a calm detachment, that the fangs were an extra pair of teeth that looked to have burst from the man's gums. I must be dreaming, Pearson thought sluggishly. The blow to the head must have scrambled his vision. Surely, a man with glowing red eyes and long fangs couldn't really be holding him a foot off the wall with one hand. Pearson struggled to bring his gun up, which was miraculously still in his hand. He would just shoot this phantom and then go back home for some good whiskey. God, it had been a long night. What was he doing, dreaming at a time like this? The man somehow snatched the gun out of his hand. Pearson never even saw him move. The man raised the gun up to his eyes and sneered. He crumpled the gun in his fist and threw it aside. He crumpled it? I can't even dream a realistic dream. That wasn't some paper-mache gun. His vision swam again and his stomach lurched. He gagged for a moment and then vomited violently. The man shrieked as the vomit projectiled into his face. He wiped his face angrily with his free hand. "Gah! It got into my mouth! You fucking swine! I'm going to gut you like--" "You hit like a girl." Pearson jolted into the wall as the man's head suddenly disappeared. The man's hand spasmed around his throat for a moment before letting him go. Pearson dropped to the ground and groaned, his vision swimming once again. He saw Elizabeth wipe the blade of her machete on the expensive shirt the man wore and then reached around her hip and behind her back. Apparently she had a sheath hidden there, as the machete disappeared. Pearson closed his eyes to let his vision settle. He felt hands grab the front of his jacket and haul him back up again. "Damn you, Detective! That better not have been the vamp who killed my mother!" Pearson's head swiveled on his neck. It seemed an effort to keep it up. He blinked dazedly and Elizabeth's furious face swam into view. She was even more beautiful with her face flushed like that. "Are you going to kiss me?" he asked stupidly. Elizabeth hissed and dropped him back to the ground. He groaned and leaned his head against the wall. He was going to rest for a moment. His weird daydream would probably pass by then. "What the hell was that?" a hysterical voice asked. "What the hell was that? Oh my god, what the hell was that?" "Quiet!" Elizabeth's voice cracked. "Let me check you. You might be hurt." Pearson kept his eyes closed. His head was starting to pound dully. He was probably going to have one hell of a headache in the morning. He heard footsteps walk past him. "You're okay. Go home and pretend like this never happened. It's easier that way, trust me." He heard footsteps recede down the alleyway. He kept his eyes closed until he sensed a darker shadow in front of him. He opened his eyes. "What the hell am I going to do with you?" Elizabeth asked. Her face was carefully blank. "I think I vomited on myself." He heard her sigh. *** June 11, 11:02 p.m. "I'm scared." Lily sat on the edge of the couch, the wine glass twirling slowly in her hands. "I'm so sorry...for everything." Daniel was long past trying to come up with any answers about why bad things happened to good people. There was nothing he could say. Lily stared down into her glass for a long time before speaking. "Even during the worst times of the illness, I never really appreciated how precious life is. But now, sitting here and knowing it's all about to end, I can't stop thinking about how I won't ever be able to drink wine again. To get dressed up for a date. To eat another hamburger." "Lily..." "Death is so funny that way," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's so...definite. Complete. I close my eyes and they will never open again. I will never have to get up and get ready in the morning. I will never breathe again. My voice will never be heard again. That's it. Finished. Done." "Lily, try not to think that way," Daniel said softly. Soul's Divide Ch. 01 She looked up at him then, eyes brimming with tears. The hands holding the wine glass were shaking. "I'm so scared, Daniel. My heart is nearly beating out of my chest." Daniel knew that. He could hear it; hear its siren's call. The monster inside of him cared nothing about this woman's life. It was hungry and it wouldn't be delayed for much longer. The loudness of her heart pounded against his ears, awoke in him a deep hunger. A hunger he couldn't deny. "Please, let's end this. I can't stand it anymore." Her voice tore through the fog of hunger and pierced his heart. Daniel closed his eyes and nodded. The monster purred excitedly in his chest. But he was in control. He was always in control. He would never kill as a monster. He left Lily shaking where she sat and walked over to the wall where the light switch was located. He flipped the switch off and let his eyes adjust to the semi-darkness. Candles that he had lit earlier were the only source of light now. "Daniel?" she called hesitantly. "Are you getting your equipment?" She sat in the small pool of candlelight, her eyes searching the dark corners for him. "Yes," he lied, as he made his way around the couch and approached her from behind. "Are you ready?" "No," she whispered. She hung her head and her shoulders shook. "But let's do this anyways. What...what do you want me to do?" Daniel couldn't fight the hunger anymore. It had been six long months since he last fed. The time for resisting was over. His vision slowly slipped out of the visible light spectrum. He knew if he looked in the mirror he would see the green of his eyes slowly fade into a deep red. The heat of her body glowed in the darkness. He could see all the veins in her body, carrying the oh-so-sweet river of life. He groaned in pain and pleasure as he felt his fangs burst from the top of his gums and descend down his teeth. He could see her hunched form, glowing red and yellow from the heat in her body. His hands shook in anticipation as he slowly moved toward her. His footsteps made no sound on his expensive carpet. Lily jerked in surprise as Daniel lovingly wrapped his arms around her chest. The wine glass fell to the floor. He felt her try to turn around in his grip so she could face him but he held her tight. "Daniel? What are you doing?" Daniel suppressed the vampire inside of him so he could speak. "Fulfilling my promise," he replied. And that was it. The human side of him was gone. Only the hunger mattered. He plunged his head down toward her exposed neck, which was glowing so fiercely with the heat of her blood. His fangs punctured two deeps holes and he clamped his mouth down tight around the bite marks. Lily gasped and jerked in his grip. But he held her tight until the poison in his fangs was carried throughout the bloodstream. He could tell the moment when the poison overloaded the pleasure centers of her brain; she gasped loudly and shuddered. Her body glowed even brighter in his Sight. The vampire inside of him drank deeply and greedily. Ecstasy. The sweetness of life. The blood, the sweet, sweet blood. Daniel closed his eyes in pleasure and squeezed her tighter. She groaned in pleasure, just as he promised her she would. The crucial moment was arriving. The vampire squeezed her even tighter in anticipation. Nothing but the very life-force of a human being could sustain his life. Feeding on blood eased the hunger but only delayed the inevitable. Six months was the very limit of his control. He felt it, felt that indefinable moment when the spark of life passed through her body. The heart, which had pounded so fiercely the longer he fed, went suddenly quiet. Daniel swallowed the last of the blood and pulled away. Lily fell from his arms and slid off the couch. The vampire threw back his head and howled. Thick streams of blood ran down his chin and dripped onto the carpet. The veins on his neck bulged as he screamed defiantly. Every muscle in his body tensed. Daniel held on to the small spark of humanity inside of him as the overwhelming surge of pleasure roared through his body. The pleasure was too much; he felt that small spark dwindle down to nothing. This, this was life! Humans had no idea what true pleasure was! Their insignificant minds could never handle this truth! He was better, supreme. All life quailed in his presence! He was the top of the food chain. "Nooo," Daniel gasped, as the surge of energy continued to course through him. He struggled to take back his mind. The spark flared back to life. Always, feeding drove him to the edges of his sanity. One day, he feared, he would lose his grip and never return. And a terrifying monster would stand in his place. He dropped to his knees and fought for control. He was still a man and he would be damned if he let the monster win. Slowly, ever so slowly, the surge faded away. It left him shaking and nauseated. When the feeling passed long enough for him to move, he crawled on all fours until he made it past the couch and toward Lily's body. She was indistinguishable from the furniture in his house. She was already cold and blue and faded. Lily was gone; only a empty shell remained. He let his Sight fade and grimaced in pain as the fangs retracted back into his gums. He knelt on his knees and pulled Lily into his lap. "I hope you knew nothing but pleasure in those last moments," he whispered to her. He wanted desperately to keep his promise. He knew the vampiric venom overloaded the pleasure centers of the mind, but he could never be sure she hadn't felt any fear. "I hope you found peace." He stroked her hair. She looked so peaceful. She had died with a half-smile on her lips. As he stared down at her body, he tried, as he always did, to convince himself that this was the best way to go. To be overwhelmed with pleasure as you died? What better way was there? But, as always, he could never convince himself of that. He was what he was. The fact that she would have died soon anyways didn't make one lick of difference. He was a vampire. And he was damned. Soul's Divide Ch. 02-04 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. Soul's Divide Ch. 02-04 "You wound me," she said, turning back to stare at him. And he could almost believe it. Her dark eyes held his with such tenderness that he almost rushed to embrace her. He snarled and bared his teeth, willing himself to deny her hypnotic suggestion. "Stop that!" She was just toying with him, he knew. If she wanted, she could very easily bend his will toward hers. She smirked and looked away. The tension was broken. "I've always marveled at your strength to deny me. You are the only one, Daniel. All my other children prostrate themselves in greeting." "Then go bother them," he snapped. "And stop calling me your child." She leaned back against the window and crossed her arms in front of her impressive cleavage. "I made you what you are. I am more a mother to you than the woman who gave birth to you. Of course you are my child." Her tone implied that Daniel was childish for arguing. He gritted his teeth and tried his best to quell his annoyance. "What are you doing here, Amara?" She raised one delicate eyebrow. "Do you think I've forgotten? Or that I wouldn't come to guide you? Only one month remains until your transformation. There is much I must do in preparation." Daniel had forgotten. He stared at her as realization dawned on him. He had been so wrapped up in controlling his hunger that he didn't even consider why he was feeling hungrier all the time. "You forgot?" she asked in genuine confusion. "You forgot that I made you 100 years ago next month?" "I've had other worries on my mind," Daniel said, distractedly. He pressed his forehead against his palm and closed his eyes. How could I have forgotten about the transformation? I'm losing touch with everything important in my life. "Still?" Amara said. She sounded genuinely concerned. "You still refuse to feed?" "You know my feelings on this," Daniel replied, looking up at her. An age-old anger replaced the clouded thoughts in his head. Amara sighed wearily, the perfect picture of parental disappointment. She even managed to look at Daniel with almost human pity. "After all these years, you still deny what you truly are. Why, Daniel? Why torment yourself like this?" "Are we finished?" Daniel snapped, the anger in his blood forcing him to his feet. He clenched his hands by his side and tried to quell his anger. "I have work to do." She didn't turn to leave; she only smiled at him, a smile filled with hundreds of years of patience. "How often do you feed?" "Don't anger me," Daniel warned her. "I want you to leave. Don't make me force you out." Fluttering papers. A hand around his throat. His feet dangling a foot off the ground. "Children should have more respect for their parents," Amara hissed, her hand tightening around his throat. "Never threaten me, Daniel." Daniel stared angrily into her dark eyes. The hand around his throat was more of a show of superiority than any physical threat. His lungs had stopped working years ago, after all. Still, as threats go, he had to admit this one carried a good amount of fear with it. She could rip his head off as easily as popping the lid off a pickle jar. "Sorry," he growled. The word tasted like acid on his tongue. This was why one was wise to never anger Amara. She set him down on his feet, her face almost shining with her pleasure. "That's better. I don't see why we can't be civilized. Now, answer me. How often do you feed?" "About every six months," Daniel replied reluctantly. Amara's eyes widened in shock. "Daniel! I can't believe this! You're very ill-prepared for the transformation! I don't even know if it will take...I have never heard of such a thing!" She walked away from him, shaking her head all the while. "It was my choice," he reminded her. Civilly, this time. "You haven't gathered enough energy for this. What you will become..." she trailed off, staring at Daniel in disbelief. "Something even more monstrous, I don't doubt." Anger replaced disbelief on that perfect face. "I'm glad I came when I did. You will feed every night from here on out, you understand?" Daniel straightened the sleeves of his white coat and glanced up at Amara. "No. I'm not like you." "Yes, you are!" Her voice cracked like a whip. "I'm tired of this childish...stubbornness! Embrace what you are!" "And kill innocent human beings? How often do you feed, Amara? How many souls and discarded destinies lay at your feet?" The anger receded slowly from her face. Daniel couldn't tell what emotion replaced it. "I feed every day. You know this, Daniel. There was a time, when you were first born, when we shared the same appetites. How I miss those days! Come back to me, my son. Come home." Daniel turned away from her, away from the truth. A part of him did long to go with her. That part of him had immensely enjoyed the years of wild abandon, the constant feeding. So many lives lost because of him. "I have work to do," Daniel said, softly. Something in his voice must have finally penetrated her mind. He heard her walk to the door and then stop. "It's like I always told you, Daniel. We aren't human anymore. To continue to think like one will only bring you pain and misery. We are what we are. Does the lion mourn the death of the gazelle?" Daniel fell heavily into his chair and looked over at Amara. "That depends." She cocked her head to one side. "On what?" "On whether the lion was ever a gazelle." Amara stared at him for several long moments. She opened her mouth once and then closed it. She opened the door and then stopped. "Do you know why you're my favorite child? Why I turned you?" She continued to stare forward, as if she couldn't bear to turn around. "Why?" Daniel sighed. "Because you're the only person who can still make me feel human, even for an instant." The papers fluttered once again on Daniel's desk and then lay still. Daniel leaned back in his leather chair and stared at the ceiling. As much as he hated her, he loved her just as much. The slight tremor in her voice at the end couldn't be faked, not even by the strongest hypnosis. *** Chapter 4 - Echoes June 13, 7:01 a.m. It felt like Gabrielle had barely collapsed into her bed before jolting awake. Somebody was knocking insistently on her front door. "Whoever is knocking," Gabrielle muttered as she kicked off her blanket, "on my front door," she continued, as she grabbed her robe off the closet door and tied it angrily around her waist, "is going to have their entrails pulled out through their nostrils." She crossed the living room in long, angry strides and yanked open the front door. "What?" she snapped. Roberts quirked up an eyebrow, his eyes crinkling in amusement. "Long night?" Gabrielle gritted her teeth. "Roberts, you better have a good reason for disturbing my sleep." Roberts put his hand over his heart in mock pain. "Is that any way to talk to a beloved partner?" "Roberts," she warned him, her voice soft and cool. He finally got the hint; you just don't mess with a woman's beauty sleep. "We got a case, so get dressed." "I'm off today," she reminded him with a not-so-pleasant smile. Roberts, damn him, looked neatly dressed, as always. His dark brown hair was, as usual, parted along the right edge of his head and swept neatly over to the left. He never looked unprepared for work. "Hunting again last night?" he asked, his eyes and voice suddenly serious. Her nostrils flared in anger; something in his tone made the comment more than a passing remark. "You followed me last night, didn't you?" "Please, Gabrielle, unlike you I actually have a life." His voice sounded playful but she could still sense the undercurrents to his words that contradicted his tone of voice. "You had me followed, then," she insisted. Her hand gripped the edge of the door hard as she fought to control her anger. Roberts glanced away. "Come on, Gabs, let me in already." Gabrielle swirled her head around, her hair snapping out behind her, and stormed toward her bedroom. Roberts could be dense sometimes, especially when it came to women, but even he would know what the hair flipping and angry walk meant. "Stop calling me Gabs," she snapped, as she walked into her bedroom and slammed the door. Five minutes later she finished buttoning the cuff of her right sleeve and walked back into the living room. Roberts had helped himself to a cup of coffee and was sitting at the bar outside her kitchen. Gabrielle ignored him and calmly poured herself a cup of coffee. He finally spoke while she fixed herself a bagel. "I was worried about you, especially after that close call the other night. I just wanted to keep a close eye on you, that's all." "You still don't trust me," she replied, her voice as calm as the sea on a cloudless day. She took a bite of her bagel and stared at him directly. For once, she would not let her temper get the best of her. Let's see how well he handles a calm and collected Gabrielle. He seemed discomfited by her stare. "Of course I trust you. But...damn it, Gabrielle, you know what kind of heat I'm under. You're my responsibility. The Organization makes sure to constantly remind me of that fact that they assigned me to you in the hope that I would have a calming influence over you." The bagel tasted like ash as she swallowed. She felt a momentarily flutter of fear in her stomach. "How high up?" Roberts set down his mug of coffee and grimaced, as though it had just left a bad taste in his mouth. "The Director." Gabrielle's bagel dropped from her suddenly numbed fingers. "The Director? The head of the whole Organization is keeping taps on me?" Roberts shifted uncomfortably on his stool. "It's like I always try to tell you; we have to keep a low profile. The supernatural community respects our authority because we're neutral. We don't go around making waves and drawing attention." "I'm just hunting vampires!" Gabrielle snapped, though her anger was tinged with fear. She hated being backed into a corner like this. Come on, Gabrielle, be cool. Deep breaths. Roberts raised his hands. "I know, Gabrielle, I know. But the Director feels that there is a difference between doing our job and going out and seeking trouble. Even the Ancients leave us alone, as long as we keep the vampire hunting under acceptable limits." "Acceptable limits?" Gabrielle repeated, trying her best to sound calm. She picked up her bagel and took another bite, just to give herself something to do. She chewed slowly and calmly before continuing. "Who do those fucking vampires think they are to place limits on us?" So much for calm. "We don't want to piss them off," Roberts said quietly. His coffee mug sat forgotten on the countertop. "They wield too much power for us to risk incurring their wrath." "Their wrath?" Gabrielle snarled, her pledge to remain calm now completely forgotten. "What about my wrath?" An image of her mother popped in to her mind; the same image that haunted her all these years. Her mom's face bloody, her hand outstretched, reaching desperately for her daughter. A white hot fire erupted inside of her. Every electric outlet in the apartment shot out sparks and every light bulb shattered as the electricity blew out with a sound like a giant groaning. Darkness descended on the apartment, broken up by small rays of sunlight peeking past the curtains. Roberts rose slowly out of his seat, his hand outstretched, as though he was trying to calm a dangerous beast. In a way, he was. "Calm down, Gabrielle. Listen to my voice. It's ok. Just breathe out. Let it go." The fire wanted desperately to escape, to burn the whole world to ashes. It was her fire to control and, at that precise moment, she wanted to let it out. She wanted it so bad that she had to bite down on her tongue until she tasted blood. "Let it go," Roberts said calmly. He was always calm, unruffled. The bitter taste of iron, of copper, filled Gabrielle's mouth as she nearly bit her tongue off. Slowly, ever so slowly, she closed her eyes and quenched the fire that wanted to destroy everything. And just like that, the fight went out of her. She slumped to her knees in exhaustion. Roberts knelt down beside her. "You ok?" Gabrielle hid her face behind the locks of blonde-streaked hair long enough to wipe away the tears. "Yeah," she said finally, once her emotions were back under control. Roberts grabbed her under the elbow and lifted her back to her feet. "I didn't mean to bring up those memories." "It's not your fault," she muttered. The apartment was too quiet. It was amazing how much of the silence electricity filled in. Without it, she could hear the wind blowing against the window. "I don't like them, either," Roberts said. "The Ancients, I mean." "Are they really so powerful?" Just the thought of having to play by their rules made her blood boil, threatening to reignite that fire again. Sometimes her hatred of vampires surprised even her. "They're up near the highest tier of powerful beings," Roberts said, reluctantly. "They're small in number but big in power. Just be thankful they're too jealous of each other's power to allow more than a few to live that long." "But we have powerful people in the Organization! The Director could swat them aside without blinking! Why should we be scared of pissing them off? We should wipe them out before they grow even more powerful!" "We don't have as many power players as you think," Roberts replied, her lips twitching in amusement. Gabrielle snorted. "That's funny, coming from one of the Five Swords of Judgment." Some unknown emotion flickered briefly across Roberts face. The amused smile melted away like ice before the flames. "Let's not talk about that." Gabrielle sensed some sort of power, of energy, briefly emanate from Roberts like rolling waves as he spoke. In the darkness of the apartment, she could have sworn she saw something almost fiery shining in his eyes. Needless to say, she quickly changed the subject. "So what's the case? What's so important that it requires you dragging me along on my day off?" The aura of power surrounding him vanished as quickly as it appeared. He sat up straight on the stool, clearly relieved at the change of subject. "This one's pretty nasty. It requires your unique skills." Gabrielle knew what he wanted. He knew, also, what it would cost her. "Echoes?" "Echoes," Roberts confirmed. His dark eyes stared at her steadily, gauging her reaction. "It must be bad," she said, quietly. He slid off the stool. "Let's talk about it on the way over." *** Roberts, however, didn't seem very eager to fill her in on the details. "So what did you tell him?" he asked instead. Gabrielle glanced out the car window and watched the scenery zip past. Of course Roberts would have known about Detective Pearson. The man he had following her would have seen her carry Pearson to her car and drive back to her apartment. "I told him only what he needed to know." "And what exactly was that?" Roberts asked, glancing at her as he drove along the highway. Gabrielle whipped her head around and glared at him. "Do you really think I told him anything about the Organization? How stupid do you think I am?" "Relax," Roberts said, soothingly. "I know you didn't tell him anything. I'm just surprised you took him back to your apartment. I mean, what were you thinking?" Gabrielle had been avoiding that question. What had she been thinking? "I felt bad for the guy," she replied slowly, as she tried to work out her own thoughts. "He tried to rescue me." Roberts snorted. "From what I heard, he almost cost you your life." "He still tried to help," she snapped. She didn't even know why she was defending him. She had fun toying with him during the interrogation but certainly never thought to see him again. But when he surprised her during her fight with that vampire... "We'll have to keep an eye on him," Roberts said. He glanced sideways at Gabrielle. "Citizens are allowed to know about the things that go bump in the night," she reminded him. "We don't have the manpower to watch every person who knows about the supernatural world." "The underground doesn't concern us," Roberts replied. "But a cop? We both know how dangerous that knowledge can be in the hands of law enforcement. There's power in that knowledge; power that doesn't need to be in the hands of somebody who already wields power over the population." "What are you suggesting?" Gabrielle asked angrily. "We're not going to kill him, if that's what you're thinking," he sighed. "You talk about trust all the time, Gabrielle. Well, that's a two-way street, don't you think?" "Sorry," she muttered. Roberts was a good guy and a great partner. It was the Organization she didn't trust. "Senior management has been thinking about setting up liaisons in the big city police departments. It's about time we starting using the police department instead of going around them." "And you want to make Detective Pearson a liaison?" "It would help if we had somebody on the inside. This city is too big to cover up everything that goes on. Does he seem capable? How did he handle the truth?" "Surprisingly well," Gabrielle admitted. She had been very surprised at his humor and attitude toward the situation. It was quite impressive. She had to fight a smile as she remembered his crack about were-bears. "Good," Roberts said, as he took the exit that led to the Compound. "I'm going to recommend you to be his contact." Gabrielle wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. *** Roberts held open the door that said "MORGUE" and let Gabrielle walk past. Heavy metal music assaulted her ears as soon as the door swung open. She gritted her teeth and walked quickly to the source. Stan had his back to her and was playing the air guitar, completely oblivious to his surroundings. Gabrielle slapped her hand down on the stereo and the music cut off at once. Stan spun around. "Hey! What are—oh, Agent Summers, I didn't hear you come in." "It would have been a miracle if you did hear me," she said, irritably. Stan nervously tucked his long, stringy hair behind his ears and avoided her gaze. He started when he spotted Roberts. "Agent Roberts, you here for the body?" Roberts nodded. He looked highly amused by Stan's discomfort. "Don't worry about her, Stan. Her bark is much worse than her bite." Stan laughed nervously and continued to avoid Gabrielle's eyes. "Keep it up, Roberts, and you will find out just how hard I bite," Gabrielle said, her voice dripping with poison honey. "Sorry, Gabs, I'm already married." Gabrielle growled in disgust and motioned for Stan to lead the way. He slid the body he was supposed to be working on back into the refrigerated compartment and led them down several more rows. He stopped and pulled open another compartment door and slid the metal table out. "Just came in a few hours ago. Nasty stuff." Gabrielle took a deep breath and stepped up next to the table. Stan looked at her and waited for her nod before pulling back the sheet covering the body. Despite her years of experience at this sort of thing, her stomach never really acclimated itself to what could happen to a human body. She flexed her stomach involuntarily and had to breathe out of her nose. The victim was a woman who looked to be in her 20s. Remarkably, her face looked perfectly fine, makeup still in place. Below her neck, however, was a different story. What used to be the chest of a human female was now a gaping hole and shredded skin. Large, jagged claw marks had torn off most of her stomach. Even the organs inside had been torn apart. The largest hole was where the heart was usually located. It appeared the attacker had lingered there, as there was no sign of the heart or the surrounding flesh. Even the bones in the chest were missing. Soul's Divide Ch. 02-04 "Brutal, huh?" Stan said. He sounded almost excited and not the least bit disturbed. This must be a typical day for him, working in this division of the Organization. "Did we get this from the cops?" Gabrielle asked, unable to tear her eyes away from the gruesome sight in front of her. "No, we actually got this one before the cops did," Roberts answered her. Gabrielle shook her head and was finally able to look away. She looked up into Roberts' eyes. "You really want me to get Echoes off of this?" she asked, softly. Roberts nodded, his eyes solemn. "We need to know what's out there. There should be enough residue left behind." Gabrielle knew what he meant. She could feel the remnants of the magical energy left in the wounds. She could feel a slight vibration, a ringing in her ears, and a tingling in her fingers. "What kind of being uses magic to cause wounds like these?" "Were-beasts?" Stan suggested. Gabrielle shook her head. "No, were-beasts don't kill humans. It has to be something else." Stan shrugged and, incredibly, blew a bubble of gum. Gabrielle suppressed an urge to throttle him. "What do you think, Roberts?" "I think you're delaying the inevitable," he replied, kindly. Gabrielle sighed but accepted the truth of his statement. She edged closer to the remains of the female body. "Do we have a name for her?" "According to a purse found at the site, her name is Jody Moore," Roberts replied. "I need to go see the scene of the crime." "After," Roberts insisted. He was a kind man but could be relentless sometimes. I guess there's no more delaying it, Gabrielle thought. She squared her shoulders and reached out to the body. She touched the nearest wound and swiped a small bit of congealed blood with the tip of her finger. She closed her eyes and reached down into the pit of her stomach and opened herself to the flames. Sweet, pure magical energy spiraled out from her center and filled her being. She rubbed her fingertip against her thumb and concentrated her will on the blood. She put aside her loathing, her fear, her doubt. She tuned out all distractions and focused every ounce of her will, drawing the magic in her body toward the blood on her finger. She felt her head jerk back as the magic pulled her consciousness into the residual life force contained in the blood. Scattered, chaotic images flashed in her mind's eyes. Echoes, this gift was called, and for good reason. She saw echoes of the life of poor Jody Moore. She saw a little girl holding her baby brother for the first time. She saw a beautiful and young Jody graduating from high school and from college. She saw Jody gazing into the eyes of the man she knew she was going to marry. She saw that wedding and how handsome her new husband looked to her. All the important life events in Jody's life, the powerful memories that lingered in her very blood, in her life-force, flashed through Gabrielle's mind. And then the most important moment of Jody's life hit Gabrielle with the force of a freight train. The moment when she died. Gabrielle cried out as Jody, who was simply walking to her car late at night, was attacked from behind. Jody screamed and screamed as razor-sharp claws came at her from seemingly every direction. She howled as jaws clamped down on her shoulder like the jaws of life and shattered her collar bone. Gabrielle tried desperately to get a good look at the attacker but could only see what Jody saw. Dark claws, sharp teeth. Claws that were as long and thick as daggers. Unending pain as she was clawed and bitten and disemboweled. And just before the eternal darkness descended, she saw a glimpse of the demon that killed her. And it then nothing. Gabrielle gasped and shuddered as the Echoes faded, leaving only the emptiness that death leaves behind. Roberts was by her side. He grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her away from the body, from Stan. He walked her down the morgue. "Are you ok?" he whispered. Gabrielle stopped and leaned her head against his shoulder. "No," she said, simply. The memories were fading. They weren't hers and she was glad to see them go. After several minutes, Roberts stepped away from her. "What did you see?" Gabrielle shook her head. "It was just a glimpse. I...can't say for sure." But deep in her heart, she was afraid. Soul's Divide Ch. 05-07 In the past year, I have been pestered enough with emails to go ahead and post another chapter in the Soul's Divide. This is pretty much what I had written before I burnt out on writing. Enough feedback might entice me to continue. Enjoy. Chapter 5 - The Doctor is in "Mr. Pearson? The doctor will see you now." "Ah, man," Pearson said, laying down his crayon and closing the coloring book. "I was almost done with my masterpiece." "We could hang that in the waiting room for you," the nurse said, smiling. Pearson stood up and stretched his arms over his head. "My mom used to put my finger paintings on the refrigerator. She said I would be a famous artist one day, like Van Gough." The nurse motioned him to follow her and turned her head back towards him as she led him down the hallway. "But you decided to become a police officer instead? What a shame." Pearson shrugged. "And what, become a depressed, self-mutilating weirdo? Nah, I decided to become the gruff, cynical and world-weary cop who still harbors a small amount of hope deep in his heart." The nurse laughed. "Maybe you should have become a politician, with a tongue like yours." "Or a porn star," Pearson added, winking. The nurse stopped by the door to a examination room and looked at him, her eyes twinkling. "Are you flirting with me?" Pearson looked her over, appreciating the curvy figure underneath the scrubs. "You would definitely know if I was flirting with you." "And how's that?" "If I was really flirting with you, our clothes would already be off and we would be laying on that examination table." A smile slowly unfurled on her face. "The doctor will be with you shortly." She walked away, her backside swaying more than necessary. She was well used to his flirting by now, and even knew how to tease him right back. Pearson whistled to himself and turned to sit down on the edge of the examination table. The paper crinkled underneath him as he adjusted his position while he waited. Finally, after many minutes spent thinking about his last conversation with Gabrielle, the doctor walked into the room. "Detective Pearson, I haven't seen you in a while," Dr. Gray said, as he held out his hand. Pearson shook it. "You twist your ankle again chasing after those criminals?" "Nah, bumped my head pretty good this time. What about you, Doc? You don't look too hot," Pearson said, noting the worn look on his face. "You look like you just hit your head, too." "I just had an unexpected visit from an old flame," Dr. Gray said, his smile faltering. "You know how it is." "If you weren't such a playboy, Doc, you wouldn't have to worry about ex-girlfriends stopping by." "Hmm," Dr. Gray said, as he examined the paperwork on his clipboard. "I see you've gained some weight since your last visit. You might want to lay off those doughnuts." Pearson smiled. The reason he chose Dr. Gray as his doctor was because the man was pretty good with the quips. "That's such an old cliché, Doc. Not all cops eat doughnuts. I can't even remember the last time I touched a doughnut." "Is that right? Then what's that stain on your collar?" "I had an accident with a jelly doughnut on my way over here this morning. What's your point?" Dr. Gray smiled, his green eyes glinting with amusement. "So what happened to your head?" "I got into a little scuffle with a suspect last night. He used my head to test the structural integrity of an alley wall." "I'm glad you got away," Dr. Gray said, as he examined the back of Pearson's head. "Hmm, there's a small abrasion here. Nothing too bad. Did it bleed heavily?" "Not that I can remember. Everybody always tell me how hard-headed I am." "It must come in handy," Dr. Gray replied. He pulled out a small flashlight from his coat pocket. "Look straight ahead." Dr. Gray proceeded to shine the light in Pearson's eyes several times as he had him look in different directions. "Any symptoms?" Dr. Gray asked, as he wrote on his clipboard. "Immediately after I grew nauseous and vomited. I also lost consciousness for a while." "How do you feel now? Are you still nauseous? Dizzy?" "I have a small headache," Pearson replied. "But other than that, I feel pretty good." Dr. Gray took out his blood pressure cuff and proceeded to take his blood pressure. "Anything else?" Pearson just shook his head and stayed silent while he let Dr. Gray measure his blood pressure. He shook his arm after Dr. Gray removed the blood pressure cuff and stared down at the ground and thought about the entire night he had just experienced. Sometimes he wasn't sure if it really happened. Vampires? Were-bears? "Can you...see things or imagine things after you hit your head?" Pearson asked, hesitantly. "You can definitely become disoriented and confused," Dr. Gray said, as he wrote on his paperwork. He stopped and looked up, concerned. "Why? Did you see anything out of the ordinary?" Pearson hesitated. Why was he even asking? What did he want to hear? That he imagined everything that happened? If that was true, then that meant that Gabrielle wasn't real... "No, I just had some weird dreams," Pearson said at last. "Understandable," Dr. Gray said, as he turned back to his paperwork. Pearson remained silent as Dr. Gray continued to write. Did vampires really exist? Gabrielle was dead serious, he knew that. And he definitely saw that monster in the alleyway, saw the deep red irises in those inhuman eyes, and the hideous fangs. "Dr. Gray, do you believe in...an otherworldly power?" Pearson asked, hoping his question sounded innocent. Dr. Gray lowered his clipboard and frowned thoughtfully. "You mean do I believe in God?" "Sure," Pearson said, though that wasn't exactly what he meant. But it was a good start to what he really wanted to talk about. Dr. Gray's eyes stared past Pearson, apparently in deep thought. "After the things I've seen..." he trailed off, shaking his head. His eyes focused on Pearson. "As a doctor, I mean. No, I can't say I believe in God." Pearson was silent for a moment, as he decided the best way to approach the topic he really cared about. "Ok, maybe you don't believe in God, but what about stuff here on earth? Do you believe in...monsters? Like Bigfoot or something?" Dr. Gray laughed. "You really must have hit your head pretty good. No, I'm very comfortable in saying there is no such thing as Bigfoot." Pearson nodded. He was getting very close now. "So you think we've discovered everything there is to discover? There's nothing out there? No beasts or creatures we've never encountered?" Dr. Gray cocked his head to the side. "Like what? I'm sure there's microorganisms we haven't discovered yet. Maybe some insects and small animals. But large, ten foot tall creatures? No, I think we would know by now. Why do you ask?" Pearson shrugged. "No reason, really. I was seeing stars when I hit my head and thought I saw something. It just made me think if there was anything supernatural in the world, like ghosts or...vampires." Dr. Gray's head snapped up. "What exactly did you see?" he asked, his voice eerily intense. Pearson leaned back a little, suddenly feeling very uneasy. He hadn't expected such a strong reaction. "Uh...nothing, really. Just some stars." Dr. Gray sat down his clipboard and pulled over a stool. He sat down in front of Pearson and took out his flashlight again. "Look straight ahead again," he said, his whole manner taunt with some unknown tension. Pearson blinked. "Um...ok," he said, as he looked straight at Dr. Gray. Didn't they just do this? Dr. Gray didn't even lift the flashlight. "Look straight here," he said, pointing towards his eyes. Pearson leaned in a little closer. Something strange seemed to be going on. It looked like the pupils in Dr. Gray's eyes were expanding, almost completely suppressing the green iris. It was like a deep pit a person could almost literally fall into... "Robert," a voice said sharply. "Come back, Robert." Pearson blinked slowly and then shook his head. What the hell just happened? "Doc?" he asked, confused. "You kind of drifted off there," Dr. Gray said, chuckling. He was standing and writing on his clipboard. When had he stood up? "I did?" Pearson asked, surprised. "Yes, I think it was a lingering symptom from when you hit your head. Sensitivity to light caused it, I believe. It looks like you suffered a mild concussion. Nothing to worry about. You will just need a few days of rest." "That's it?" Pearson asked. "Get some rest? No CAT-scan or anything? I suppose this is where you say thanks for coming, that will be $500." "Something like that," Dr. Gray said, smiling. "Rebecca will check you out up front." "Thanks," Pearson muttered. He walked past Dr. Gray, who seemed eager for him to leave. "Detective Pearson," Dr. Gray called out. Pearson stopped and turned around. "Yeah, Doc?" Dr. Gray looked at him, his eyes serious. "Take care of yourself out there, ok?" "You got it, Doc." *** Dr. Daniel Gray stood staring at the doorway, long after Detective Pearson had left. His mind was buzzing with all the information he just learned. He hated using his hypnosis like that; there was always the chance that the person would remember some small piece of it. And he hated not giving him a full medical checkup, but he had to make sure Detective Pearson wasn't in trouble. That comment about seeing a vampire... Daniel knew all too well the ways of vampires. If a mortal happened to escape the clutches of a vampire, his life was still very much in danger. Most vampires would pursue a mortal who escaped, in order to tie up the loose end. Daniel walked back to his office and sat down at his desk. He had a lot to think about. He had learned some interesting things from Detective Pearson while he was under his hypnosis. He learned that he had indeed run into a vampire. But the vampire was already dead, killed by a mysterious woman... Daniel had no doubt that this woman, Gabrielle, was connected to the Organization. There wasn't a vampire hunter in existence who didn't operate without approval from the Organization. Most hunters found it easier to work directly with the Organization, rather than circumvent it. Daniel tapped his fingers on his desk, his mind rapidly processing everything that had happened recently. Too many events were converging for this merely to be a coincidence. His time of change was upon him, Amara was in town, and an agent of the Organization was operating in the city... A mortal could dismiss these events as mere coincidence. Indeed, Daniel was tempted to do just that. But in the supernatural world, these events were almost always portents of powers converging. If powers really were converging, then the best thing to do was find the source. And he knew the best source of power there was. "Rebecca," Daniel said, buzzing the intercom. "I'm going to need you to reschedule the rest of my appointments today. I have a personal errand I need to take care of." "Sure thing, Dr. Gray." All roads, it seemed, led back to Amara. *** Chapter 6 - Detectives Wanted "They just found three more victims," Roberts said, as he plopped down in the chair in front of Gabrielle. Gabrielle sighed, closing the book in front of her and putting in on the pile with the others. Roberts and she were the only ones in the library at the moment. Not that it was rare, considering where they were. "Three?" Gabrielle repeated. Roberts nodded, his face grim. "The police discovered all three of them within three blocks of each other. All three were torn to shreds, their hearts chewed out of their chests." "The monster is picking up its pace," Gabrielle muttered, as she thought about the implications. "There's just been one victim the past two nights." "Maybe it's getting hungrier," Roberts mused, as he toyed idly with a book in front of him. "Whatever the reason, it's not good. It's getting out of hand." Gabrielle dropped her head into her hands and stared at the desk. "And the mystics still can't pin this thing down?" "They're as stumped as we are. They can't seem to get a bead on this thing. They droned on about chaotic energies, or something like that. Really, I just think they're making up excuses for their failures." "They aren't the only failures," Gabrielle said, disgusted. She waved her hands at the pile of books on the table. "Still can't find anything?" Roberts asked, as he thumbed through the pages of a book. Gabrielle grimaced. "The Organization has gathered the most extensive collection of books about the occult ever assembled in human history. And they still haven't bothered to develop an indexing system!" Roberts shook his head. "What did you expect, Gabs? They've relied on magic to solve all of their problems for many years now. I don't think they've ever seriously considered how useful knowledge can be. You would think they've never heard how knowledge is mightier than the sword." "The pen is mightier than the sword, Roberts," she corrected him automatically. "What you meant is that knowledge is power." "Smarty pants," Roberts said, smirking. Gabrielle shook her head. "Be serious, Roberts. This isn't the time for humor." "No? Then I guess it's time to head to the morgue so you can get Echoes off of those bodies. Hopefully you can get a better read than you did with the last two bodies." Gabrielle shot him a dirty look but got up anyways. "Fine, let's get this over with." "And Gabs," Roberts said, as he stood up. "When things are this grim, it's always a good time for humor." Gabrielle had no retort for that. So she just silently made her way down the aisle between bookshelves, heading for the large double doors in the distance. "So many books," she said, as they passed the towering shelves on either side. "And hardly any are found out in the normal world." "It fills you with awe, doesn't it?" Roberts said. "To know that the supernatural has existed in this world for thousands of years." "What surprises me is that anybody would bother writing books just for the supernatural community," Gabrielle replied, shaking her head. "It seems like such a waste." "There will always be people hungry for knowledge. And let's face it, research in the supernatural world is a lot more juicy than anything you will find in the mortal world." "I guess so," Gabrielle said, as she pushed open the double doors. Beyond was a small square room. The only distinguishing feature of the room were the complex diagrams and symbols painted on the floor in what she hoped was only red paint. There was, in fact, one other distinguishing feature of the room: the man standing in the middle of the symbols. He wore thick robes of black that hung heavy to the floor and had the hood pulled over his head. He held his arms in front of him, each one resting in the opposite sleeve. "Hello," Gabrielle said, uncertainly. If the man had a name, she didn't know it. In fact, she had never even heard him speak. Certain members of the Organization tended to have a flare for the dramatic. "The Compound in Verfall, please," Roberts requested, his voice respectful. The mystic bowed his hooded head in response. "Here we go," Gabrielle muttered under her breath. The entire room began to shimmer, as though she was looking through a heat mirage. Only the symbols on the floor remained solid. Gabrielle gritted her teeth, as the familiar sensation of displacement threatened to expel the contents of her stomach. It felt like the moment when the rollercoaster reached the top and plummeted below. The mystic raised his head and the room stopped shimmering. The room appeared to be exactly the same as before, but Gabrielle knew they were now thousands of miles away from the Compound in Antarctica. "Sure beats flying coach," Roberts said happily, as he nodded his thanks to the mystic. "Come along, Gabrielle. Chop, chop." She thought long and hard about punching him. He knew how queasy the experience made her and he took the utmost delight in teasing her for it. But her stomach still hadn't settled yet, so she had to make do with glaring at Roberts' back. The mystic made no formal acknowledgement of their thanks. Gabrielle eyed the mysterious robed man uneasily as she left the room. She never could decide if the mystic transported himself along with them or if it was some type of relay system between multiple mystics. Those robes were good for disguising whoever was underneath them. Either way, the magic behind it was amazing. "When am I going to learn that trick?" Gabrielle asked, as she closed the door behind her. The library was gone. She found herself in the familiar comforts of the Compound of Verfall, where she worked out of most of the time. She even had a nice little office. No windows, of course. Roberts snorted. "That magic is well beyond you. I daresay you don't have the patience for learning the art of drawing symbols. You're magically illiterate; you can speak the language, but can't read or write it." "Who can understand that gibberish?" Gabrielle muttered angrily, as they made their way down the hallway. She really had tried to learn it, but understanding it was beyond her intelligence. It simply wasn't like any other ordinary language. It was quite literally alien. Roberts was wise enough not to comment further on the matter. He made idle conversation as they made their way to the morgue, passing several empty offices. But Gabrielle knew he was just trying to keep her mind off of what was about to come. Unfortunately, the Displacement Room wasn't that far from the morgue. Before she could really prepare herself, Roberts was pushing open the doors. "Three days in a row," Stan whistled, looking up from the body he was examining. "How did I get so lucky?" "How's it looking?" Roberts asked. Stan gestured to the bodies on the three metal tables in front of him. "Hot off the presses. I haven't even really started yet. I tell you, it's times like this when I wish they would hire me an assistant." "Know anything yet?" Gabrielle asked, as she looked uneasily at the familiar horrifyingly disfigured bodies. Two of them were men and the other a woman. Stan shrugged. "Like I said, I haven't had a chance to look at them yet. We just wrestled them away from the cops." Roberts groaned and shook his head. "Just what we need." "There's no covering this mess up now," Stan said, nodding. "The police are on high alert." Roberts looked over at Gabrielle. "It looks like we're going to have to speed up our efforts in creating a partnership with the police. It's becoming too much of a headache to keep working around them." Gabrielle sighed. "You still want Detective Pearson to be our liaison?" Roberts said nothing for a moment as he studied her reaction. Gabrielle hated when he did that. "He already knows more than he should. He's perfect for the position." Gabrielle made sure he didn't see the slight smile she fought hard to suppress. She rather liked Detective Pearson. "I'll contact him as soon as I can." Roberts nodded carefully before turning back to the bodies. "We don't want to delay Stan any longer than we have to. Do your thing, Gabs." Gabrielle stepped towards the bodies reluctantly. Her already upset stomach rumbled unpleasantly inside of her. Three bodies in a row? Could she even handle that? Whether or not she could, she was about to find out. *** Gabrielle pulled away from the last body and stumbled against the wall and slid down hard. Roberts was immediately by her side. "Gabs, you ok?" Gabrielle could only wave at him weakly. "Water," she croaked. Roberts returned in an instant, pressing a glass of waters into her hands. "Drink." Soul's Divide Ch. 05-07 Gabrielle gulped down the water as she waited for her body to stop shaking. She had never pressed herself like that before. Three Echoes, one right after another. Ghastly, horrible images of being shredded by claws and bitten by sharp fangs. The overwhelming feeling of death as the curtain dropped down over each of those poor souls. The images always faded, but not now. There were still sharp in her mind's eye. So sharp, in fact, that she could barely see the room she was in. Sweat dripped off of her face in a steady stream. "I'm sorry, Gabs," Roberts murmured. He touched her elbow and she jerked away, yelping in terror. She felt him stay close to her as she struggled to fight the images. He was smart enough not to touch her again. She clutched the glass of water as if it was her only lifeline. It didn't matter if her eyes were open or closed; she could still see her death three times over. She didn't know how long she fought, but the images finally faded. She came aware to Roberts kneeling in front of her, his eyes pinched in pain. "I'm back," she said, her voice hoarse. "I'm sorry," he said, his eyes pleading with her. She took a drink of water and sighed. "Not your fault," she breathed. "It had to be done." "What do you need?" The question held a desperation to it, as though he longed to help her in any way he could. It made her smile. "Help me up." He hesitated. "You sure?" "I'm not some delicate china doll. Help me up." Roberts pulled her up and helped her over to a nearby chair. Gabrielle sat down gratefully. Stan was standing close by, looking unusually morose. "You ok, Agent Summers?" Stan asked delicately. "Better than them," she said, nodding to the bodies behind her. Stan cracked a weak smile. "That's the spirit." Roberts pulled a chair over to her and sat down in front of her. "Can you talk about it? Or do you need more time?" "I'm good," she replied, waving away his concern. "You're not going to like what I found." Roberts tensed. "What?" "Nothing," Gabrielle sighed, sinking into her chair. "All three were attacked in the same way: from behind, in the dark. I just saw more images of long claws and sharp teeth." "Damn," Roberts said, his shoulders slumping. "I thought for sure this was going to be our lucky break." "You know what this means," Gabrielle said, standing up slowly. "We're going to have to do some old fashioned detective work." "And who's better than real detectives?" Roberts said, smiling slightly. Gabrielle couldn't help returning his smile. *** Chapter 7 - What Must be Done Daniel closed the front door to his house softly and turned to the coat rack in the corner. He removed his coat and scarf and carefully placed them on the hooks. And then he turned around. "Hello, dear," Amara purred. He had spent all day chasing her trail around town, looking for the most obvious places she would be. It finally dawned on him that the place he would find her would be the most obvious of them all. She stood by the stairway, wearing nothing but a black silk robe. The robe was split down the middle, revealing the sides of her tanned breasts. It tied at the waist and flared out, revealing a very nice set of sensuously smooth legs. Daniel felt a stirring in his groin. The fact that she had carefully crafted her new body made no difference to that animalistic side of him. She was a thing of stirring beauty, and the beast inside of him wanted to ravish her over and over again. "Hello, Amara," Daniel replied, showing remarkable constraint. It was second nature to him, now. She tilted her head to the side. She didn't look disappointed. No, she looked...pleased, as if she expected his lack of response. He had to remind himself that she was the ultimate hunter and very much enjoyed a good chase. "You were expecting me, I see," she said. Daniel nodded and turned to pick up the mail on the table next to the door. He tried to appear as casual as possible as he thumbed through all the junk mail. "I was hoping to find you here, in fact." He looked up to find her smiling, her eyes telling him she knew very well the game he was playing. "I made myself at home. I hope you don't mind." "Not at all. Please, join me in the living room. I have some important things I wish to discuss with you." "So formal," she purred, her smile reminding him of a hunting cat. "And such rare manners these days. I would be glad to join you in the living room, my child." He felt his eye twitch briefly. She had stressed the last part on purpose. Her smile showed that she knew she had won the first point. Irritated, Daniel led her down the hall to the formal living room. Amara sat down on a couch and artfully arranged her robe, leaving most of her legs exposed but shadowed the part in between them. The nipples on her large breasts were barely covered. Daniel had to shift positions in his chair. Score a second point to Amara. He decided not to look directly at her. "Thank you for seeing me." Amara laughed, her voice rich and musical. "You make it sound as though you arranged an appointment with me. My dear Daniel, why so formal? Do I make you nervous?" "We didn't exactly part on the best of terms," he said carefully. "All those years ago, I mean." "Hmm," Amara said, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "A mother doesn't abandon her child so easily. I simply gave you the space you required." That was a small relief. He had said some rather nasty things when he left. He had the distinct impression that she would tear him apart if she ever laid eyes on him again. He decided to accept her version of events gratefully. "I apologize for this morning. You just caught me off guard." "Liar," she said, her smile taking the sting from the words. "You meant every word you said. Still, I appreciate the attempt at civility. But why don't we skip such pleasantries and cut to the chase, shall we? I'm very eager to know what it is you need of me." That was the Amara he knew. For an immortal, she never really did have any patience. And he knew how much she loved a good mystery. "What do you know of the Organization?" he began, with what he hoped was a safe question. She tilted her head in confusion. "What about them? I taught you everything you need to know about this world." "You taught me the basics," he countered. "I would like to know more about them." She eyed him suspiciously. "What an odd question to ask. Why do you want to know about them? Are you thinking about joining them?" she added, laughing. Daniel humored her by smiling. "Hardly. But I do know that they are operating here in the city." Amara shrugged, the robe threatening to reveal all of her glorious splendor. "What of it? The Organization has had a base of operations in Verfall for many years now." "They have a base of operation in a lot of different places," Daniel replied. "But they've never really operated heavily out of Verfall before." "And what makes you think they are now?" "A patient of mine recently had a run in with a vampire. He was saved by an agent of the Organization." "So?" Amara asked. Daniel narrowed his eyes. "We both know there's no such thing as coincidence in our world. She must have been patrolling for vampires to have randomly come across my patient. Why is there an agent patrolling Verfall?" "Maybe they're bored," Amara said, smirking. "What does it matter?" "And you just happened to show up in a city they're heavily patrolling?" Amara sighed, the perfect picture of weary patience. She was a fantastic actress. "One random encounter with an agent is hardly 'heavy patrolling,' Daniel. I know you always tended to stay cautious, but this is bordering on paranoia." Daniel felt a brief moment of doubt but refused to cave in so easily. "Then why are you here?" Amara raised one delicate eyebrow. "I'm here for you, of course. Why do you doubt that?" "Were you there for all of your 'children' during the change?" Amara hesitated. Daniel almost grinned; he had just won his first point. "Events have taken me away from my children more than I would like, I admit. But I made absolutely sure I would be there for you when it was your time. You were always my favorite." "You always have an agenda," Daniel pressed, convinced that she was hiding something. "Being here for my transformation was just an added bonus. Why are you really here?" Amara didn't respond immediately. She just stared at him with no expression, her hand trailing down the edges of her robe. Daniel stared past her determinedly. Amara finally cracked a smile, conceding a point to Daniel. "I haven't seen you this animated since...well, the good days," she purred. "You remember those, don't you?" Daniel refused to be baited. The memory of those "good days" haunted his every waking moment, but he would be damned if he let her see that. "Yes," he said simply. Amara continued to smile at him. "I tell you what, Daniel. Do me a favor and I will give you the answer you are looking for." Daniel hesitated. "What favor?" he said, slowly. "Remind me of those good days." Daniel frowned. "I don't quite follow you." Amara stood up, causing the robe to part briefly. "Then I suggest you really follow me." It felt like he had lost the upper hand, but it was, so far, the best outcome he could have hoped for. So he prepared himself mentally and followed her out of the room. He grew even more uneasy as she led him to his bedroom. She stopped by the doorway and waited for him. "I have a present for you." Daniel felt his heart sink in his chest as he entered the bedroom. A naked woman was tied to his bed, her wrists and ankles held to the bedposts with rope. Her eyes were closed and she was writhing on top of the sheets, her chest rising and falling heavily as she moaned. "No," Daniel whispered, as he felt the vampire stir inside of him. Amara swayed toward the bed and turned to look at Daniel. "Feed on this woman and I will answer your question." Amara reached down and pinched the woman's nipple. The woman moaned suddenly, her body straining against the rope as though she longed to throw her body against Amara. Daniel couldn't tear his gaze away from the doomed woman. She had pale alabaster skin and blonde hair that fell to her shoulders in waves. Her breasts were heavy and hung down the sides of her body. Her stomach was flat, her legs muscled, her pussy neatly shaved. "She's addicted," Daniel said, as he watched the woman continue to strain against the bonds. Amara looked carefully at Daniel. "You know she's addicted. You've seen the signs yourself, a long time ago." If it weren't for the fact that he was struggling to fight against the demon inside of him, horrible memories from his past would have flooded his mind. As it was, the reminder was enough to fuel his anger. "You've killed her," Daniel accused her, his voice harsh. A vampire's blood was very similar to the most dangerous drugs in existence. It was highly addicting, powerfully magical, and immensely pleasurable for mortals. It was also very corrosive to the human body. The more blood they drank, the more damage it did. Eventually, the body broke down and died. Amara nodded. "So you see, taking her life now makes no difference. You weren't the one that killed her. I did." Daniel stared at her with all the hatred he possessed. "Why, damn you? Why are you making me do this?" "I've seen incomplete transformations before," Amara said. She looked unusually somber. "You don't want that fate. The more energy you store up, the better it will be for you. At the very least, it will preserve your mind as you go through the changes." Daniel stared down at the doomed woman. She continued to strain against the ropes as she struggled to touch Amara. He had seen a woman like that before. He had given her his blood in order to save her life, but he had doomed her instead. Daniel walked slowly to the woman, ignoring the smile unfurling on Amara's face. He knelt down by her head and touched her forehead. The woman groaned and arched her back. "Please," she whispered. "Give me...blood." Daniel dropped his hand and sighed. Her mind was gone. She was simply a creature of carnal desires now. Her death was inevitable. Daniel stared up at Amara. "You will give me the answer I desire?" She nodded at him, still smiling. "Drink, my child, and all you desire shall be yours." Daniel was so very tired of constantly holding back. His hunger was still strong, even after feeding the other day. His time of change was upon him and the beast was restless. Holding on was just too damn hard, too mentally exhausting. Amara knew exactly how to manipulate him. So he gave up and let the beast take over. He felt his mind slipping away as the vampire rose up inside of him. His vision slipped into the infrared spectrum and his fangs burst from the top of his gums. "There you are," Amara whispered, her eyes wide. "I've missed you." Daniel grinned, feeling the blood pounding in his veins. He could hear the doomed woman's heartbeat. It was beating like a rabbit's. So fast, so very fast. Filled, no doubt, with fear and desire. It was music to his ears. Daniel crawled on top of her, trailing his tongue up her chest. The woman shivered, her whole body tensing. Daniel smiled like he hadn't smiled in years. He had forgotten this feeling. "Blood," the woman panted. "Yes," Daniel agreed. He sucked a nipple in his mouth and bit down on the surrounding flesh. A small pool of blood filled his mouth. "Noooo," the woman groaned, her struggles suddenly changing. "Yesssss," Daniel purred, as he savored the sweet taste of her blood. He looked up at Amara. She was a dull blue in the infrared spectrum, a complete opposite of the vibrant, glowing woman below him. Amara was breathing heavily, her eyes dilated as she stared at him. Daniel smiled wider as he turned back to the woman. "I love how you taste," he told her. "Blood," she moaned again. "Please!" It sounded like a good idea to him. It had been a long time since he had feed so soon after his last meal. Normally, he would take his time and really savor it. But he was too damn hungry for that. The woman gasped as Daniel plunged down and bit into her neck. He clamped down hard, his fangs sinking deep into her skin, and drank greedily as the blood poured out. The woman convulsed underneath him as he drank deeply. She moaned in pleasure as the toxin in his bite overloaded the pleasure center in her brain. Daniel gripped her body tight with his arms as the warm, delicious blood flooded his mouth. He was so thirsty that it felt like drops of water dropping on parched earth. He shivered in ecstasy as he felt her heart speed up as the moment of death arrived. She gasped one last breath, her body twitching in sheer pleasure, and then fell still. The vampire roared in satisfaction inside of him as it felt her living essence flow through her body and into its waiting jaws. Daniel dropped her body to the bed and whipped his head around, smiling at Amara. Amara stared down at him, her eyes completely devoid of color. There was nothing but inky darkness instead of white. She smiled at him, fangs sharp and long. "I've missed watching you feed." Daniel stood up, warm blood dripping from his chin. His hand darted out with inhuman speed and snatched her long, black hair. He jerked her head back, lifting up her chin. She laughed at his rough treatment. "Yes," she hissed, as he brought his mouth down roughly to hers. Amara greedily sucked the woman's blood from his lips. She shivered slightly and closed her eyes. "So sweet." Daniel pulled back suddenly and shook his head. The vampire was content at the moment, freeing him from its intense clutches. His mind was his own again. "No," he whispered, stepping back. Amara frowned. "Why do you still fight it?" Daniel pushed past her and left the room without looking back. The poor woman's body was quickly fading to dull blue. He didn't want to be reminded of what he had just done. He grimaced as the fangs retracted back into his gums. His vision returned back to the normal spectrum. Amara followed him back to the living room. Her eyes were back to normal, too. "You were so close to giving in, Daniel. I understand your desire to be human, but it's simply not meant to be." Daniel sat down on a chair and spent a few moments to collect himself. He would agonize over what he did later. Right now he needed answers. "Why are you here? You promised me answers." Amara sighed and sat down in the chair across from him. "I did come here for you." Daniel shook his head. "But that's not the only reason. Why else did you come here?" Amara idly played with the belt on her robe as she stared at him. He met her stare and didn't look away. She finally nodded. "I've received some disturbing reports. I came here to verify them for myself." "What reports?" "There is something here...some new power we have never encountered before." Her eyes shone with eagerness as she spoke. Daniel frowned in confusion. "New power? What do you mean?" "There is something stalking the streets here. Something the mystics can't even locate." She hesitated, her gaze intense. "Some type of beast more powerful than any I have ever heard of."