Underground Vampire (15 page)

 Perhaps, “Why don’t we grab a
bite and talk, I’ve heard some stuff at the station,” casual, a working dinner,
or maybe, “I’m starving, I need something to eat,” completely separated from
any suggestion of them, make it totally about him.  He’d scouted spots
within walking distance of her place and settled on a couple that seemed
appropriate for a casual bite to eat.  Nothing expensive that screamed
special occasion, and not standing on the sidewalk in the rain eating dollar
tacos, either.  She might appreciate a casual hike up Madison to the food
truck, although he didn’t think she was a food truck foodie, if there were such
people. 

Perhaps he could make up some
bullshit about a case he was on and how he needed to follow a target to Canlis,
and why didn’t she go with him as cover and he could observe the suspect and
they could talk, kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.  That plan
appealed to his sense of danger, except he was pretty sure she was better at
bullshit than he was, even if he was a cop, and once she figured it out she
might think it was a deliberate lie instead of a darling subterfuge and get
really pissed off.

Who knew Vampires could walk all
over the city and enjoyed grinding up and down the hills?  So far,
whenever he’d been with her they’d traipsed everywhere.  It was getting
comical that every squad car in the city had seen them, and it was a standing
joke at the station that he’d finally located some street activity.  One
of the station comedians posted a notice on the board requesting that he file a
written report on his activities, detailing all physical contacts. 

Even O’Malley got into it when
someone pointed out that she looked like the chick who was at the autopsy, and
the Captain called him in and read him the riot act about fraternizing with
civilians, a legal activity frowned upon by the SPD, which preferred
interbreeding among department families, as it promoted the homogenous clan
essential to the modern paramilitary police.   Avoiding the issue, he
bullshitted O’Malley with some crap about Asian gang familiarity that O’Malley
knew was crap but accepted because he’d been lying so long his grasp on reality
was weak and he preferred the familiarity of delusion to reality.

Perhaps, and this seemed safest, he
should just tell her he had some information and tell her to meet him at a
restaurant.  Then, they could meet without it being a date and he could
suggest they order, since it was dinner time, although he still wasn’t sure
about the nutritional needs of Vampires outside of the blood, which wasn’t as
gross as you would think.

Perhaps, and this seemed terminally
risky, he should call her up and tell her he’d like to go to dinner with
her.  Agony was not knowing how to proceed with this woman and being a
coward about it, but he had no way of reading the situation.  In fact, he
had no way of knowing if it was a situation or a delusion; he’d been thinking
about her for so much for so long, it probably was a delusional fantasy.

Perhaps a frank discussion where he
could state his feelings and assure her that he didn’t expect the discussion to
negatively affect their professional relationship.   Perhaps she
would appreciate the frontal approach, given her stated aversion to
prevaricating policeman in general. Perhaps she would find such an approach unseemly
and simplistic, and he should continue to court her in a reserved fashion,
given her old world antecedents.

“Perhaps you should shut up,” said
Malloy. “And while you’re at it, be sure to drop ‘old world antecedents’ into
the conversation.  What woman wouldn’t want to be described that way,
sounds like something a professor would say at a World Affairs Council
meeting.” 

Jesse looked out the window as
Malloy motored across the Aurora Bridge, hoping for a jumper so he could hop
out and do some honest police work and get away from Malloy, who was looking at
him like he was crazy. 

A major drawback of hanging around
with a Vampire was that you couldn’t really talk to your buddies or mother
about the unique circumstances and get some advice.  He was pretty sure
that if anyone he knew was banging a Vampire he’d have heard about it by
now.  Malloy was the only person who knew what was going on and obviously
Malloy knew Vampires and he knew Arabella so, if he could get him talking,
maybe he could get some feedback.  The only pedestrian walking on the
bridge was a gangly woman dressed like Olive Oyl, marching through the drizzle
like she’d had too much fiber for breakfast. 

Malloy said, “What is the matter
with you,” a statement not a question.  As they shot by the weathered wood
of Canlis’ roof lifting over Lake Union, he wondered how it would be to eat
there with her, his only visit had been prom night in a rented tuxedo, ordering
the filet mignon medium rare with the Canlis salad please, because that’s what
you ate on your first visit to a real restaurant.  A corsage pinned to her
chest while calculating potential cost and hoping he’d have enough left for
dessert. 

Perhaps they could explore the menu
and she would be impressed; the view was gorgeous and you didn’t ask for
anything because they could read minds there and bring you what you didn’t know
you needed just when you did.

“Get your head out of your behind,
Ortega,” said Malloy, not really displaying any sensitivity.

Perhaps he should man up and ask
her out on a date. Tell her it was a date and tell her that he would like to
see her on a romantic basis to explore a potential future. 

Of course, he was admittedly hazy
on the mechanics of Human-Vampire sexuality; he assumed there was such a thing,
although maybe Vampires were sterile like mules.  No ‘Vampires for
Dummies’ at B & N, everything in the search engines on Vampires was
ignorant trash.  Last night he’d made a list of the pros and cons, the
pluses and minuses.  Perhaps he should sit down with her and his lists and
review them with her right after he asked her if Vampires shared the
reproductive possibilities of mules.

Perhaps he should ignore his brain
and the crazy messages emanating from it and continue to do his job walking
around downtown Seattle in the misty light and hunting Vampires through the
degenerate Underground.  Truth be told, and he hated it when people
prefaced their statements with assurances of truth, the happiest he’d been in a
long time was meeting her at some sewer, dropping in and hunting the beasts of
the night.

“Ortega, if you’re going to ask her
if she’s a mule, I’d like to be present for that if you wouldn’t mind,” said
Malloy, “because I’m betting she could pitch your ass at least a block, maybe
more.”

Malloy pulled the big Ford to the
curb and Arabella opened the rear passenger side door, slid onto the huge back
seat and wished them both a pleasant, “Good day.”  The car was the Police
Interceptor Crown Victoria badged with civilian styling; how Malloy had one as
his personal vehicle was a great mystery of life. “If I don’t get one, I don’t
go to work,” was his response when Jesse asked how he rated. 

“If I said that they’d say good and
don’t come back,” was Jesse’s morose reply. 

“You’ve got a lot to learn, Boyo”
said Malloy, “Hopefully, you’ll be alive long enough.”

“What do you have for me,” asked
Arabella, all business, dispensing with the normal Malloy banter. “The Queen
sends greetings and wishes to express her concerns that the situation merits
attention.”

“Does she,” mused Malloy, wheeling
the big Ford into oncoming traffic to get around a bus backing up traffic on
First.  “She said situation, did she?  Be sure and tell her I
appreciate her remembering me and will do what I can to relieve the
‘situation’.”

“Sucking up are you?” smirked
Jesse.

Malloy pulled the car to the curb
so he could turn and face Arabella.  “I’ve been able to synthesize a
pattern of attacks.  They appear to be random throughout the City but my
guess is they’re using certain tunnels to spread it around,” passing a bag of
blood across the seatback.  “Drink up, you’ll need your strength.”

“Attacks, what kind of attacks?”
was all she said, as she punctured the bag with a pinky nail.

“Physical stuff, tavern brawls, and
I think they’re using the anarchists as cover.  What ties them all
together is blood, lots of blood.”

“Smart, very smart, feeding on
Humans sub rosa.  They’re rising from the depths to feed; once they’re
strengthened by blood they will attack.”

“I think it’s time to slow them down
a bit,” said Malloy.  “Give them something to think about when they’re
skulking through the sewers besides their next meal.”

Finished with her snack, she
fastidiously folded the plastic bag and slid it into the Malloy-provided trash
bag.

“Where?”

In response, Malloy handed her a
crisp piece of cream colored paper.  It was a hand drawn map with tiny red
x’s about a blue artery. She held it up for Jesse to see and he thought it
resembled maps of the subways of New York City.  “Those are tunnels under
the streets.”

Poking a big fat finger at the
drawing, Malloy said, “Right there is where the trunk line branches.” They all
contemplated the indicated spot. “If it was me I’d set up right along there,”
jabbing away with his finger, “Right about there and wait and see what might
come walking by.”

Arabella studied the map for a
moment longer then, “Nice paper, very nice.”  She slowly ran the tips of
her fingers across the paper, savoring the unique feeling of hand laid stock.

 “Thank you, made it myself,
down in the basement.”

“Rag?”

“Cotton and linen, last forever, so
good you could print money on it.”

Malloy turned to Jesse and fixed
him with that gaze that wasn’t Vampire but was almost as penetrating, “Now what
were you saying about me and the Queen?”

As soon as Jesse’s mouth had said
it, he’d hoped that it passed unremarked but it was not to be. “Nothing,” said
Jesse, “Didn’t mean anything.”

“We’re managing two situations
here, Boyo, and both are delicate.”

Jesse sat tight and quiet,
embarrassed to be on the end of a lecture.

“One of them’s a pack of Vampires
who are rampaging around Seattle. The other’s the Queen, God bless her damn
black soul, who’s sitting up there,” nodding toward Queen Anne, “thinking what
this situation,” drawing the word into a parody of peat bog brogue, “needs is
for her to come down the hill and show everyone who’s the big boss.”

Jesse nodded his head, vigorously.

“We don’t want a pack of Vampires
rampaging and we most certainly don’t want a Master Vampire on the move, so we
do whatever we have to keep that from happening, capiche?”

Jesse kept nodding.

“And I most certainly am not in the
mood to take any crap from you.”

“Jess,” said Arabella, “They are
probably foraging in small packs say, three to five at a time.”

“We can handle that.”

“We may be able to set an ambush
here,” tapping a delicate finger on the map, “before the tunnel branches and
catch the first group unawares.”

“I doubt there’s any cover for us.”

“We’ll set up in a side tunnel and
catch them as they come up.”

“No way to know how many there
are,” mused Malloy, “might be a nasty surprise.”

“If we set up here,” said Jesse
tracing the map, “we could get them between us, one of us takes them head on
the other attacks from behind.”

“Better,” said Malloy as Arabella
nodded.

“I need to send a message,” said
Arabella, sliding across the seat and out the door and walking down an adjacent
alley.

An uncomfortable silence settled
over the car as they sat waiting for her return. “Sorry I spoke down to you,
Jesse, especially in front of her; it was uncalled for.” 

Still miffed, Jesse struggled for a
response; knowing that Malloy didn’t really owe him didn’t help. 

Malloy turned toward him saying,
“You be careful down there, this is hand to hand, no quarter, no hesitation and
for God’s sake do what she says without question.”

Turning, he looked down the alley;
Arabella stopped working her way around the mud puddles and was talking to a
pile of trash. After another moment of conversation the trash shook up and down
in what Jesse took as assent.

“My brother and I were fighting
Underground backing Arabella; I got bit by one of the bastards, when I woke up
my brother was dead and I was changed.”

“You’re a Vamp?” gawped Jesse.

“No, it didn’t take; the only
effect is I’m aging slowly.”

“That’s good I guess.”

“Only, if you like watching your
wife grow old and die.  Everyone I ever knew is dead and now my children
are old.”

There was nothing to say and Jesse
said it, sitting quietly, watching the afternoon drizzle on the windshield.

“You be real careful what you hope
for with her.”

“I will,” said Jesse.

“No you won’t, I’m just hoping you
don’t end up with a lonely life, a very long sad life.”

“Yeah,” said Jesse facing forward.

“She doesn’t want to get involved
with you,” said Malloy.

“What,” blurted Jesse, “what did
she say?”

“Nothing, she said nothing.”

“What, what, I don’t understand.”

“She’s got no future; she can
either turn you or watch you die, neither alternative is attractive.”

”What if she turned me?”

“Then you’re a Vampire without a
Clan.  If the Queen doesn’t kill you outright you’re stateless, so’s
she.  The two of you roam the world looking for blood, maybe she goes back
to the Vampire assassination business.    Or, you stay Human and
you’ve got forty years together; one day you wake up old and she still looks
the same.  Then, you die and she’s alone.”

“Don’t make it sound so
attractive.”

“Nothing attractive about it;
starts ugly ends worse.”