Chapter 1
There are plenty of things to do in Las Vegas on any given night, but chasing a rogue vampire through town doesn’t show up on any of the pamphlets. At least none that I’ve seen.
“Ian,” said Rachel Cress, my partner since joining the Las Vegas Paranormal Police Department, better known as the Las Vegas PPD, “tell me he’s at least done something truly nefarious.”
Her sapphire eyes glistened against her pale skin. Today’s hairstyle was blond with braids here and there. The look was perfect on the backdrop of her brown leather outfit. When she got her hands glowing with magical energy, it was all I could do to keep my libido in check. But I had to control myself. There was a time where Rachel and I were peers in the force. We were allowed to play with each other back then. Well, technically we weren’t, but we did anyway. Actually, pretty much everyone on the squad did because we were the only ones who truly understood what it was like being in the PPD. Five years ago, though, I was promoted to chief. When that happened, I swore off having relations with anyone on my crew because, well, it just wouldn’t be right. I still said inappropriate things… a lot, but everyone understood that was due to my genetic make up and so they let it slide. I was a horndog, plain and simple. Of course, so was everyone in the PPD. It was a side-effect of our genetic engineering.
“He bit a normal,” I replied while taking a turn toward the Bellagio. “Any other normals witness it?”
“Nothing reported,” I answered.
“So he’ll get a couple years at the most,” Rachel said with a grunt. “Plus rehab.”
I pulled over to the side of the road and took a look around.
There were plenty of normals walking about, laughing and generally having a
good time. We lived among them, worked among them, and even vacationed among them. But whenever one of our kind flipped into full vampire or werewolf mode, the normals filtered it out. That filter was easily demolished by magical battles or a direct attack, much like the one done by the vampire we were hunting, but most of the time normals were oblivious.
Fortunately, we had a public relations firm built specifically to handle situations where supernaturals intruded. They were called The Spin, and their job was to make normals believe that these mystical situations were all part of the Vegas experience. Unfortunately, the regional owner of The Spin was one Paula Rose, an ex-girlfriend. What can I say? I have a thing for normals. Not that I don’t have a thing for supernaturals, but there’s something about normals that really got my engines revving. Rachel suggested it had something to do with their being less of a challenge. I found quite the opposite to be true.
I spotted Mr. Vampire seated on the ledge by the water feature, looking sated.
Guilty, but satisfied.
“Cleared to move, Lydia?” I asked through the connector, a device all PPD officers had implanted to allow communication between home base and other officers.
“All set, baby,” she replied in her sweet, ultra-perfect voice.
“Thank you, love,” I replied, giving a wink to Rachel at the same time. “You’re sick, you know that?”
I loved pressing Rachel’s buttons. “What?”
“What?” she mocked while strapping a knife to the outside of her boot.
Rachel was the only mage I knew who resorted to weaponry if the magic failed. It made complete sense to me to have a backup, but most mages are a bit snobbish about things like that. “The rest of us get the pedantic drone of Lydia’s artificial intelligence. You get a phone-sex operator.”
I shook my head and snapped up a fresh magazine for my gun, making sure
the contents were infused with wood fragments.
Some myths were true, after all.
Wood for the vampires and silver for the werewolves.
The bullets I had were called breakers. They’d been developed specifically for use by members of the PPD. Dastardly things, too. They exploded on impact, driving shards of your favorite monster-killing materials throughout your target in the process.
“Jealous much?” I said before opening the door.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m jealous of a computer. When was the last time you got laid by something non-mechanical?”
“Ouch.”
“Is that what you said during it?” Then she pulled the handle and exited the car. I laughed and batted my eyelashes at her. “What’s the plan?”
I’m sure we both hoped the perpetrator would decide to fight. It’d been a while since we’d seen any real action.
It all depended on the kind of drunk we were dealing with. When a vampire breaks down and bites into a normal, they either get power-mad or they get laid back. It was a dice roll to know which one you’d get. Being that we were in Vegas, dice rolls were apropos.
“I’ll take left,” I said, jogging to the other side of the street so that Rachel and I could flank him.
The light was waning but I could see in near blackness. It was one of the many traits of an amalgamite.
Our vampire was seated in the little alcove near the center of the Bellagio’s water feature.
When vampires drank blood, it was like they’d downed quite a few shots of whiskey. They got plastered, and that meant they were either lovey, sulky, or power-hungry and violent. From the looks of our perp, I would have guessed he
was a calm drunk. Or at least not a violent one. A single kill was rare for those seeking a power rush, after all. This guy appeared to be sulking.
“I’m clear,” I said through the connector, crossing the street a ways down and then cutting back, keeping my gun out but tucked by my side.
“Moving in,” Rachel replied through the connector.
The way she moved reminded me of a lioness. Lithe, smooth, and deadly. Her hands glowed, signaling she was prepping for a light show.
Between her magic and my bullets, this poor vampire was a goner, assuming he didn’t surrender.
He only had two exits: bolt straight ahead or cut through the fountains. Whatever his move, we’d catch him eventually.
We always did.
There was a time early on when the job had been a challenge, but Rachel and I had gotten so good that taking down your standard vampire or werewolf was almost mundane. A gang of them could be fun, but singles were just too damn easy.
“Don’t blow up everything,” I warned Rachel as I thought about how The Spin was already going to have to explain how this vampire sank his teeth into a normal. “The last thing I need is Paula on my ass about having to handle public relations on account of a magical battle outside of the Bellagio.”
“Says the guy who wants to start using a fifty-caliber Desert Eagle,” Rachel replied.
I grinned at the thought. “But I’m not using one, am I?” “You will.”
Our vampire pal had clearly taken notice of us. He stood and began fidgeting. “Get your hands up,” I called out before he made any decisions. He paused,
giving me the opportunity to try the moderately-nice-cop routine. “Look, pal,” I said gently, “I don’t want to have to shoot you, but I will. And if I miss, that mage over there will wreak all sorts of havoc on your flesh in order to give me time to
try again.”
He looked at Rachel, whose hands were bouncing little bolts of lightning back and forth between them. Then he turned back at me.
“Doesn’t have to go bad, buddy,” I said, keeping the gun pointed at his chest while continuing to close in. “You’re already in a world of hurt. Don’t bring any more normals into this and you’ll be out in no time.” I motioned with the gun. “Just put your hands up and I won’t unleash a bath of wood fragments throughout your body.”
His hands slowly went up as he gulped.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” he said desperately. “I just…”
“I’m sure you didn’t,” I replied, having heard the excuse a hundred times. “Chomping into a normal’s neck just happens sometimes. We’ve all been there.”
“You’ve done it, too?” he said, looking downright pathetic.
“Well, no,” I replied, relaxing slightly. “I’m not a vampire. I just meant that we’ve all screwed up at some point.”
“Idiot,” Rachel said.
I shot her a look, frowned, and said, “Get down on your knees.” “Excuse me?” she replied, her head tilting my way.
“No, I meant for him to…” I coughed and then repeated my command directly at Mr. Vampire.
He slowly lowered himself down.
“Dammit,” Rachel hissed, clearly displeased over the fact that there’d be no firefight.
We were within a few feet of him when we noticed a look of instant terror on his face.
His eyes opened wide milliseconds before I heard a growl and felt a blow crush against my right shoulder.
The pain ripped through my body as I landed a good ten feet away.
My head buzzed and my vision was blurred. Whatever the hell just clobbered me had some major power.
Screams and growls filled the area as my mental cobwebs began to clear. I pushed myself up, shaking my head while reaching out to grab my gun.
When I looked over, I saw a werewolf tearing our vampire pal to bits. It wasn’t your standard werewolf either. This one was easily a full head taller than any naughty doggie I’d seen before, and it was much thicker. Besides, he was ripping through a vampire like it was nothing. That’s not an easy thing to do.
My brain was having difficulty processing the entire scene. It just made no sense.
The power of the werewolf was incredible, as was its ferocity.
I’d been on the force for seven years and I thought I’d seen everything. This was something new.
It solidified my desire to pick up that Desert Eagle the next time I was selecting weaponry.
That’s when I realized that Rachel had gone quiet. I scanned the area.
She was lying limp on the ground off to the beast’s right. “Rachel,” I called out, taking a wobbly step toward her.
The werewolf spun and looked at me like a jackal does a fallen antelope. His red eyes glowed as blood dripped from his teeth and claws. A rumbling growl radiated from him, signaling he had no desire to be friends.
“Not good,” I said, pulling up my gun and firing it repeatedly.
Wood-imbued breakers wouldn’t do much to kill the damned thing, but I had no time to load silvers. I just hoped they’d hurt enough to make him run.
It worked.
He ran like hell.
Unfortunately, he was running directly at me.
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