not exist and no woman that I know of could lift a man of that size off the ground. You ask me, I think Jose here had something to do with it.” Jack accused hotly.
“Sure blame it on the Mexican. You prejudiced pig!” Jose spat at Jack’s feet. “I didn’t do shit, man. I told you what I saw. Believe me or not, it happened.” Jose’ thick accent seemed to echo off the outside walls of the buildings as his voice rose in extreme anger.
Jack rolled his soft, amber eyes heavenward. “Take Mr. Gonzales into custody, sit him in a holding cell over night. I’ll see what he has to say in the morning.” Jack instructed the uniforms, and he turned to walk away, only to come up short when Dr. Nicole Harold stepped forward to block his path.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to do?” she demanded in angered disbelief.
“No. I’m going to order the victim’s body to be taken back to the morgue where you can get your pretty, little hands into it, and tell me how he died, then I’m going to go grab myself a cup of steaming hot coffee and find a place to relax and think.” Jack countered with finality.
“Some detective! Think?” Dr. Harold mocked loudly in her upset. “Really Jack, is that the best you can do?”
“That’s what I’m paid to do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Dr. Harold.” Jack made a wide berth around the impossible woman and headed toward his unmarked car, a dark sedan that was in bad need of a paint job. He heard Dr. Harold huff in frustration from behind him, but he didn’t stop and the woman didn’t pursue him. Jack made it to his car and drove slowly away. This was number two, he thought as he headed down Sixty-third and Main. Two victims, both male, both with gaping, black holes in their necks, side by side as if indeed a pair of fangs had sank into their flesh. The first victim had been drained of blood, and Jack had no doubts that this one would be as well, but perhaps the killer had slipped up this time around? Perhaps, he had left some sort of clue on the body or in the alley. Jack would double back after Dr. Harold and the others had gone. He thought better when he was alone with nothing but the scene of the murder to back trace in his mind.
Chapter six
The scent was strong and it was familiar to her, but she could not recall where she had smelt it before. It called to her, not because of the hunger that usually led her, but out of curiosity alone. It was mortal, she knew that. She closed her eyes and drew it in more deeply. The manly aftershave that he wore wasn’t what was familiar to her, though it was a pleasant scent, she thought. It was what was underneath: his skin, his blood, his hair…
She rounded a corner and realized that she was heading back to where she had already been that night. Sixty-Fifth Street was only a block away now, and that was where the familiar scent was coming from. The breeze shifted and she lost the scent, but just for a moment. It was a mortal, she realized, but who was he? She knew this particular mortal, or she had once upon a time.
The alley where she had made her kill less than three hours ago was just ahead now , and she could hear the slow shuffling of feet within. She couldn’t just go up to him and ask his name, she thought in disappointment. It would be so much easier if she could. That boy earlier had seen her though. He knew her face. What if he was still there? No, the scent of the boy was gone, she realized. No one was around, no one but this strange mortal man, who wasn’t entirely a stranger to her. Leaping, she caught the edge of the stone building at her side, and slowly, gracefully snaked her way up it. Pushing out with her feet when she neared the roof, she leapt upward, and landed in silence upon the peeling
“Sure blame it on the Mexican. You prejudiced pig!” Jose spat at Jack’s feet. “I didn’t do shit, man. I told you what I saw. Believe me or not, it happened.” Jose’ thick accent seemed to echo off the outside walls of the buildings as his voice rose in extreme anger.
Jack rolled his soft, amber eyes heavenward. “Take Mr. Gonzales into custody, sit him in a holding cell over night. I’ll see what he has to say in the morning.” Jack instructed the uniforms, and he turned to walk away, only to come up short when Dr. Nicole Harold stepped forward to block his path.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to do?” she demanded in angered disbelief.
“No. I’m going to order the victim’s body to be taken back to the morgue where you can get your pretty, little hands into it, and tell me how he died, then I’m going to go grab myself a cup of steaming hot coffee and find a place to relax and think.” Jack countered with finality.
“Some detective! Think?” Dr. Harold mocked loudly in her upset. “Really Jack, is that the best you can do?”
“That’s what I’m paid to do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Dr. Harold.” Jack made a wide berth around the impossible woman and headed toward his unmarked car, a dark sedan that was in bad need of a paint job. He heard Dr. Harold huff in frustration from behind him, but he didn’t stop and the woman didn’t pursue him. Jack made it to his car and drove slowly away. This was number two, he thought as he headed down Sixty-third and Main. Two victims, both male, both with gaping, black holes in their necks, side by side as if indeed a pair of fangs had sank into their flesh. The first victim had been drained of blood, and Jack had no doubts that this one would be as well, but perhaps the killer had slipped up this time around? Perhaps, he had left some sort of clue on the body or in the alley. Jack would double back after Dr. Harold and the others had gone. He thought better when he was alone with nothing but the scene of the murder to back trace in his mind.
Chapter six
The scent was strong and it was familiar to her, but she could not recall where she had smelt it before. It called to her, not because of the hunger that usually led her, but out of curiosity alone. It was mortal, she knew that. She closed her eyes and drew it in more deeply. The manly aftershave that he wore wasn’t what was familiar to her, though it was a pleasant scent, she thought. It was what was underneath: his skin, his blood, his hair…
She rounded a corner and realized that she was heading back to where she had already been that night. Sixty-Fifth Street was only a block away now, and that was where the familiar scent was coming from. The breeze shifted and she lost the scent, but just for a moment. It was a mortal, she realized, but who was he? She knew this particular mortal, or she had once upon a time.
The alley where she had made her kill less than three hours ago was just ahead now , and she could hear the slow shuffling of feet within. She couldn’t just go up to him and ask his name, she thought in disappointment. It would be so much easier if she could. That boy earlier had seen her though. He knew her face. What if he was still there? No, the scent of the boy was gone, she realized. No one was around, no one but this strange mortal man, who wasn’t entirely a stranger to her. Leaping, she caught the edge of the stone building at her side, and slowly, gracefully snaked her way up it. Pushing out with her feet when she neared the roof, she leapt upward, and landed in silence upon the peeling
Similar Books
