UMBRACOS

UMBRACOS 

By I. D. Martin 

Word Count: 9000

She dropped from the parapet, muscles loose and relaxed; the stench of the place a minor distraction. The scent of her prey filled her up and the Need drove everything. She landed easily, bending at the knees only enough to absorb the twelve-metre fall. The young man pissing against the pub wall heard nothing.  

She inhaled deeply. 

And heard the arterial flutter of alcohol fuelled fibrillation, the rhythmic beat of the great muscle - loping across the alley she covered the eight odd metres in an elegant flash to snatch her victim from the shadows. Urine sprayed the wall anew followed by rich, red blood as she sank her fangs deep into the neck, ripping and slashing, opening the veins, her tongue channelling the precious fluid into her throat, which rippled in greedy suction. Relief flooded her and momentarily weak she sank forward wedging the convulsing body against herself and the wall. She sucked harder, taking as much blood as possible before shock stilled the heart and stopped the flow. 

Letting the body fall she supported herself against the rank wall, breathing deeply, greedily, her body quivering with relief and mounting desire. She had to feed but the blood fired her loins and unsatisfied, she sort more until sated and immobile.  

A final violent shudder ran through her flanks and she stepped away from the wall. Her Need rose higher and she turned seeking a mate, a soft mewing whine coming from deep within. Finding no one, anger flooded forward and her thirst rose fresh again. She leapt straight up, energised, angry and hungry, to land on the second storey gable of the ancient hotel. Silent and lethal she set out across the roofs of Brisbane's Fortitude Valley seeking more young blood.

*** 

"When we find her, she will need to be thoroughly tested." 

"Agreed. Contamination is unlikely but all unsupervised feeding is a risk. It galls me that we did not see her deterioration." 

"Do not castigate yourself, Amicus. This Hunt has dominated us for over two decades. Complication begets contrition, after all. Ventora was a responsible member of the warren. Her need should have been declared." 

"Her greed will tarnish your elevation ..." 

"Not if the Hunt is successfully concluded. Amicus, compatriot, you are my successor, rightly so. We will prevail. I go to my reward fully satisfied. She will not sully our achievements. Now ... here are the paramedics. Let us depart." 

"Yes, Paternoster. The good doctor continues to put himself at risk. I would check his guardians. Ventora's rage has unsettled us all." 

The shadows above the alley shifted as the ambulance turned the corner of the cul-de-sac, masking their withdrawal.

***

"What AM I going to do with you, Senior Constable?" 

This came as something of a shock to the aforementioned, as she had expected to be reassigned to somewhere very west of Mt Isa. She bit off a caustic reply and waited. 

"The preliminary review doesn't actually say you did the wrong thing," mused the Deputy Commissioner, "But it does point out that shooting the detective in the leg and then half strangling him was a less than ideal response to his stupidity. By the way where did you get the silencer?"  

Gill suppressed a grin, "Made it myself, Sir. Glock don't offer it as an option." 

"Indeed. And why would a uniformed officer need a silencer, no ... don't answer that. Listen Benson, you're on ice thinner than pantihose right now. If the whole thing hadn't been so public and the Tactical boys hadn't backed you, your arse would be toast. For Christ's fucking sake, you shot one of your own." By this time the Deputy was standing as were the veins on his neck.