this is BloodWise Chapter 2. If you want to start at the beginning or read another chapter, use the navbar above.
***
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.
The place wasn’t entirely abandoned. There was one police cruiser sitting across the street with its lights on, and at least on news crew in front, getting ready to film a follow-up report, but other than that, the block was quiet- the violence of an hour ago already fading. She didn’t want to attract any attention, so she parked the bike about a block east of the destroyed strorefront and walked toward the scene of the crime.
Reyna had the ability to see into the very near past and future, and as she walked, she opened her eyes to the past which revealed itself as it always did, superimposed over the present. The effect wasn’t very different from looking through a semi-transparent glass onto which a blurry, fuzzy movie was being projected. If she chose to focus on the foreground, she could watch events of the past playing out on the glass, but she could also look through the glass and into the real world. The reason that the image was fuzzy was that events of the past tended to blur and blend with each other. The more things changed and moved, the messier the image.
Reyna had tested the limits of the power before. She’d even driven out into the desert and been able to study the history of a boulder going back for three days before she lost it. It was because there was hardly any life in the desert. So little had moved around that boulder that there had been nothing to blur her vision. But the city was a different story, especially outdoors where people and vehicles and the weather were constantly shifting and crossing paths. Here, she might only see a few minutes into the past, or a few hours if she were lucky.
She crossed in front of the store front and stared hard at where the truck-bomb had exploded, but all she could see was a blend of smoke and fire. The images of the truck were utterly erased. So she kept walking, glancing around into various streams of the past and finally, about half a block from the explosion, she caught a out-of-focus glimpse of the black truck turning left onto the street. She pursued the the picture of the truck backwards in time now. As she got closer however, the timestream began to slip away. The image of the truck began to flicker and vanish entirely, buried beneath the picture of hundreds of other cars that had since passed the same way.
“No!” she hollered, and she sprinted after the the vanishing truck, trying to make up for lost seconds. The blood she’d taken from the Commissioner allowed her to move faster than any human should. Gasping, she got close enough to recognize it as a Chevy. She could just make out the silhouette of a driver, but no details. Then it vanished like a ghost into the mist. “Damnit!” she yelled. The last thing she saw was that it had Alabama plates. She stopped on the sidewalk, hunched forward, and grabbed her knees. She took gasps between gritted teeth. Then she looked at her watch, collected herself and hurried home. Tonight she’d already played the part of driver, drug courier, and detective, and there will still more roles to play.
*
Paul Kapolis grinned as he opened the door. “Cousin Sylvie!” Despite the fact that he was only 25 years old, he was dressed in gray slacks, a button-up shirt, and a cardigan. At least he’d taken off his tie. “Another late night at the restaurant?”
“One of the waitresses was sick, so they had me a cover a few tables.” Reyna had convinced Paul and Maria that the reason for her late hours was that she hostessed at a popular restaurant in the suburbs. She took a moment to study Paul. She couldn’t help it. She’d known him since he was a baby. He’d recently graduated from law school, and it fit him well. She was proud.
“Well come in. Come on in!” He said. “Can I make you some Turkish coffee?”
That would be nice, Paul.” Like many vamps, Reyna couldn’t stomach anything other than blood, but making coffee would make Paul happy. “Is she awake?”
Paul rushed to the kitchen and searched for his ibrik. “You’re in luck!” She stayed up late so she could watch Love Boat and Fantasy Island.
Reyna screwed up her courage. Even after all thee years, seeing Maria presented an emotional roller coaster. Her sister was in the den on an overstuffed, red chair. Her slippered feet were propped on an ottoman, but the moment that she saw Reyna, she stood up with a small effort and toddled over to give Reyna a hug. “Sylvie! You’re lucky I’m up late. Do you want some sesame cookies.”
“Oh, Auntie Maria.” Reyna pantomimed a full stomach. “They feed me at the restaurant.”
“Well it never hurts to have a cookie.” As if to demonstrate, Maria took a bite. “You don’t have to come so late, you know. The streets around here aren’t so safe anymore. Its’ not like when I was growing up.”
“I have my mace.” Reyna reached into her brown handbag and displayed the bottle.
“Smart girl!”
“Coffee’s getting there!” Paul hollered from the kitchen.
“What about you, Auntie Maria?” Reyna asked. “How’s the block? No new crimes?”
“Nothing since they stole Ed Reiker’s car.”
“That’s good. So you haven’t seen any weirdos hanging around?”
“Don’t worry. If I see any weirdos, I’ll call the cops.”
Reyna allowed herself a measure of confort now. She sat and took in the warm atmosphere. The slightly worn fabric of the furniture. The old TV in its wood case. The smell of upholstery,Turkish coffee, radiated heat, and cats lingering in the air. And the pictures. Maria did what she always did. She went to the far bookshelf and pulled down an old black and white that showed Maria and Reyna as girls, age twelve and thirteen. They both wore pale colored dresses and big, floppy hats. They were both beaming. And as always, Maria looked to Reyna in the picture and then Reyna in her living room. “You look so much like your mother. It’s like you didn’t even have a father.”
“What can I say? Paul looks like you.”
“But he has Bert’s nose.” Maria put the picture away and settled down. “How is Reyna these days?”
“Mother’s doing better, but she has to go to the doctor once a week because of her back.”
“Do you think she’ll ever come home to Baltimore?”
Reyna shrugged and looked away from her sister.
“Tell her I’ll even forgive her for running out of our lives for twenty years!” Maria chuckled. “I still miss her.”
“I think she would come if she could,” Reyna managed to choke out. Words were barely coming now.
She was saved by Paul who brought in three tiny demitasses on small plates. “Hey!” he showed off the plates which he was carrying without problem. “I guess I could get a job at your restaurant too!”
“You wouldn’t like my boss,” Reyna retorted. “You wouldn’t like him a bit.”