BloodWise, Chapter 2

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this is BloodWise Chapter 2. If you want to start at the beginning or read another chapter, use the navbar above.

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Reyna tilted her head slightly so she could look into her side mirror and watch Winston leave the alley. She thought he was handsome, even when he was covered in gray dust. He was lean and angular, and he kept his hair short and wore tasteful clothes. More important, she liked his ideals, his willingness to use unorthodox tactics, his ability to study the chaos that made up the world and come up with clear answers. She’d been a vampire for over twenty years now, and she had never liked another vampire before. The feeling made her nervous. He vanished around the corner.

“Well, where the hell is he going?” Noah asked.

 “Language,” Fitzpatrick said.

“You’re objecting to me using hell?”

“Don’t overestimate your importance to me, Noah. I’d just as soon have you shot.”

An angry, primal grin spread across Noah’s face, but he kept his mouth closed.

Reyna backed the car down toward the avenue.

“Reyna,” Fitzpatrick said, “You’re visiting the with the Police Commissioner tonight.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Good, then be back at the townhouse after midnight. I want you there  when Winston comes back and gives me his update.”

“If he comes back,” Noah said. “Those Prestons are likely to kill him. You know how racist they are.”

“Why do you want me there for the update, my lord?” Reyna asked.

“He’s more likely to tell me the truth when you’re in the room. Because Winston likes you. I may be old-fashioned when it comes to carnal matters, but I know attraction when I see it.”

Reyna kept a poker face. “Do you think so?”

“I know so.”

“He’d tell the truth anyway,” Reyna said. "Even if wsn't there."

“I see. So you like him too.”

Reyna didn’t answer.

“My advice to your is to be careful, Reyna. Be careful, use every advantage you can find, and never trust anyone. You’ll live longer that way.”

“Yes my lord.”

*

Hank Stone, the Police Commissioner, leered at her as she dropped off the bag of drugs. “Want to stick around and help me sample them, honey?” he asked.

“Of course,” Reyna said. She did her best to smile back, but her mind was elsewhere.

 The Commissioner flopped back onto his big bed. His robe flapped open revealing an ample belly,  white boxers and a white, ribbed tank top. He giggled.

Reyna growled and lunged onto the bed. She grabbed his right arm and bit into it. Stone yelped and struggled for just a moment before the neurotoxins, the vampire’s kiss, took hold. Then he settled down. Reyna didn’t bite too deep; she had no interest in killing the Commissioner,  who- after all- was just another pawn in Fitzgerald’s schemes. She just needed some blood. With her muscles and nerve endings singing, she took as much as she dared, until Stone looked pale, and then she withdrew. In the morning, he would blame his weakened condition and lack of memories on the pills that she scattered on the bed. Finally, she grabbed the money from the nightstand and exited while buttoning her coat against the dismal late-autumn air. She nodded to the doorman- a droopy faced guy who always seemed happy to see her- and hopped on her motorcycle and returned to the scene of the explosion.

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