Fallen
By K9
No one quite knew how it had happened. Like a lot of things, the minute they made vampirism legal everyone wanted to try it. It became the new crack cocaine, the new Ferrari, the new ‘black’; everybody was a ‘wannabe’ vampire because it was just so damned trendy.
Legal it might be, but there were still laws governing blood suckers, and I was a legally appointed ‘vampire cop’ or to give it its new, and fashionable name, ‘Revenant Officer.’
I’d once been a lawyer, so I knew all about blood suckers, but after a little spell in the joint, they had me disbarred and I was once again in the market for a new career.
Why, I hear you say, did they then make me a cop? Well, not too many people are dumb, erm, I mean brave enough to want to join the ‘fang police’ so anyone who volunteers gets in. Hey, we even have a couple of the undead themselves who signed up, see what I mean, so damned cosmopolitan.
My name is Tobias Beecher, I’m a thirty something ex-lawyer, with a jones for vampires, but not in a good way. You see I had dealings with vamps before they went all legal, and I still have the scars to prove it. When I was in prison, I was attacked by a group of vamps known as ‘The Brotherhood’, led by a Nazi scumfuck called Vern. They almost snuffed out my lights that night; they weren’t looking for a new brother, just a fresh meal, or some little vamped up bitch to do their dirty work, and if a couple of vamp hating hacks hadn’t stumbled over them chewing on my collarbone, I’d be sitting here in my office supping ‘O’ neg about now, instead of the Cola I’m nursing, or pushing up the daisies in Memorial Park cemetery.
I have an ex-wife back in LA; she moved there when New York passed the vampire bill, and allowed them free access to the outside world. She took my three kids with her, and left me a note saying ‘Don’t follow us, we don’t want you or need you.’ Pretty definitive as grounds for divorce, wouldn’t you say?
I work from a basement office in the 9th Precinct, but the local boys in blue don’t consider us to be real cops, so we even have our own entrance door at the back of the building.
Gillian, our secretary just delivered the workload for the night, and I have to say, it’s not pretty. Oh yeah, due to the nature of our job, we tend to work nights, for pretty obvious reasons.
The first report is concerning an attack on a nightclub owned by a vampire. Vamp clubs tend to be a little ‘extreme’ for certain members of our society to handle, and we get a lot of religious nuts firebombing the places. However, this attack seems to be motivated by something a little more intense than a dislike of vampires, and I need to go find out if the worst possible scenario is about to unfold: vampire turf wars.
So, I’m off to interview the owner of the club, and try to find a way to settle this without killing anyone.
~~~~~~~~~~
The doorman of ‘The Choirboy’ nightclub is about twice my height and weight, but at least half my IQ.
I show him a badge, and inform him that I’m a Revenant Officer, this elicits a ‘huh?’ response.
“I’m a cop, and I’m here to see the owner,” I flash the badge right in his ugly face, and eventually he opens the door to let me inside.
The place is so dark it takes my eyes several minutes to adjust to the lack of light. A pretty little thing in a micro mini skirt smiles at me, and her fangs slip softly over her lower lip. She must be a new recruit; older vamps retract their elongated canines unless they’re feeding.
“I’m here to see the owner,” I inform her.
“Oh, okay, I’ll tell him!” she chirps and flits away like a cheerleader on speed.
There are a lot of half-truths about vamps, stuff that’s been used for years by B movie directors to make cheap, tacky horror movies sell. For example, older vamps *can* go out during the day if they have to, but it diminishes their power and strength, and they can’t stay out in direct sunlight for long periods of time. Most still preferred to be active after dark, when they were at their strongest. Vampires are pretty much the same person they were when they were alive, but stronger, and usually a little meaner, proving that the old adage ‘power corrupts’ is still true, even if you’re dead. Crosses only work on vamps who believe, just like they only work for humans who believe, it’s pretty pitiful watching an atheist wave a cross at a vamp who then falls over laughing. But holy water burns them like acid for some reason.
Oh, and garlic is only useful on pizza.
“Hey, handsome?” a little voice calls out of the dark, “This way!”
I peer into the shadows, and spot that micro mini disappearing down the corridor, so I follow. I never could resist nice legs.
After three flights of stairs that seem to go down forever, she stops outside a heavy wooden door. She knocks on the door and then opens it, ushering me in. I didn’t hear anyone say ‘come in’, but then I don’t have the advantage of vamp hearing.
“Master, the cop’s here,” she squeaks.
I still squirm when I hear a vamp called ‘master’ but it seems to be etiquette, so who am I to sneer?
“Okay, you can go,” a voice echoes around the room.
The vamp is sitting on a high backed chair, with its back to me.
“Come in, officer,” the man says.
I can’t help thinking that he’s taking a hell of a chance here, if I had a weapon, and a grudge, he could be dead soon.
“Just to put your mind to rest,” he says slowly, “I am aware that you have a gun, I can smell the oil. I also know your reputation Officer Beecher, I’ve seen you work.”
I admit; I’m shocked. I walk slowly around to the other side of the chair, to take a look at this man, who already knows me so well.
He’s the perfect example of what a foppish movie vamp doesn’t look like. He’s muscular, with a strong, masculine face and hard, piercing eyes. He wears a two-day growth of beard like an expensive suit. No frilly shirts and velvet pants, he has on a simple white shirt, and expensive designer denim jeans.
A smile plays on the corner of his lips, as he gestures for me to sit.
“You seem to know a lot about me, Mr?”
“Keller, Christopher Keller.”
“Mr Keller. I think you have me at a disadvantage?”
“Hmm, “Keller smiles, “I think that might be a wise course of action with you, Officer Beecher,” he croons. “Your reputation precedes you.”
I try not to smile, “Is that a fact?”
He rests his chin on his fingers, and I feel his eyes drink in every detail about me. “I make it my business to know about people,” he explains.
“Know thine enemy?” I suggest.
“Forewarned is forearmed,” he replies with what could only be defined as a seductive smile.
I try not to get distracted by his manner, I know that vamps use this shit to disarm humans. One of the myths about the undead that’s bang on the money, is that they know how to spellbind; to work their magic on the living, get them nice and pliable, so you really shouldn’t stare into a vampire’s eyes. I look away and put on my ‘I’m getting pissed already’ face.
I’m nobody’s bitch, and especially not a vamps!
“You reported that your ‘establishment’ here was attacked, is that correct?” I continue, looking around at the richly decorated walls.
Silence.
I glance back at him, and notice that his smile has widened, and he’s staring at me with the sharpest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
“You are aware of the law, I presume Mr Keller?”
“The law Officer Beecher?”
“About using vampire tricks on humans…especially humans with a badge,” I try a cold smile of my own.
Keller feigns shock, “What are you suggesting?” he says quietly, “My apologies if you misunderstand my warm welcome for anything more…unseemly.”
This guy is a piece of work. He comes across as street smart, and tough; a guy from the gutter who got himself bitten, and it gave him the muscle he craved to gain power, and yet, there’s something so…so, civilized and smart about him?
His face falls into a cocky smile, “Hey, I’m just a nightclub owner, who happens to be a vampire,” he shrugs, and his voice is suddenly the street thug he portrays, “I got a reputation to uphold,” he laughs.
“Well, on the way out, I’ll tell everyone what a scary vamp you are, and you can just cut the bullshit, okay?” I’m a little more unsettled by this guy than I’d ever admit.
“Sure,” he grins. “So, down to business; yesterday, two of my security people were attacked, and someone tried to get down here to my office.”
“You sure that’s what they were after, your office?”
He nods slowly, “I’m sure.”
“These intruders, were they human or vampire?” I ask.
“They weren’t vampire, we can sense other vampires the minute they enter our territory, but they were way too strong for simple humans,” Keller explains.
“Simple humans?” My hackles rise and I feel insulted.
“I meant normal humans, Officer Beecher, no offence,” he smiles again, and I feel my skin prickle.
“So what are you saying?” I ask, trying to stay professional about the dislike bubbling in my gut.
“I’m saying that there are more things on earth than humans and vampires, Officer Beecher, things that don’t crave acceptance the way we do, and aren’t governed by your laws.”
“Hobgoblins?” my mouth suggests seconds before my brain engages.
His face darkens and I know that my smart mouth is probably going to get me dead some day. He glares at me, his brow furrowed, and that seductive smile has been replaced by a loathing sneer that chills my soul.
“I’ve been patient with your blatant dislike of my kind, Officer Beecher, you’re not alone in your fear and loathing of vampires. However, as an officer of the law; the law we are now *all* bound to, it is your duty to investigate the attack on my establishment,” he growls…literally, “Just as it is my duty to remember the law, and not remove your throat as payment for your lack of manners.”
The hair on my neck is standing on end. I’ve faced vampires before, I did a stint as a mercenary after leaving prison, and I killed quite a few, but this one has the ability to make the blood in my veins run cold, and render me speechless.
“I, I’m sorry. I apologize for my lack of respect,” I offer weakly, because he’s right, I’m being a smart mouthed jackass. “Did these ‘people’ leave any evidence behind?”
Slowly, he stands up, moving across the room with the grace of a predator, he opens the drawer of his desk and removes a small bag.
“One of my people fought with them, he removed a piece of hair and skin from one of the assailants,” he holds out the bag for me to take.
With still trembling knees, I stand and move across the room to where he’s waiting. I reach out for the evidence and he places it in my palm. Softly, he runs his finger across my palm, and along my fingers.
Words can’t capture the feeling that shoots through my body. It’s like electric current that touches every nerve ending, and leaves you breathless.
I look up, and he’s smiling again. It’s suddenly really hot in this room.
“Right, okay, thanks, right…yeah,” I stumble over my words, and my hands shake almost uncontrollably. I tear my gaze away from his. I feel like a horny teenager on a first date with the prom queen.
“Do I unsettle you, Officer Beecher?” Keller purrs.
Now I’m fucking angry; at him, but mostly at me, for reacting to his games.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Mr Keller,” I try to smile one of those cocksure smiles, but I feel it tremble on my lips. “I’ve met bigger and badder vamps than you in my time.”
“Oh I’m sure you have,” he laughs, and I feel like I just got molested.
“I’ll get this down to the lab,” I pocket the evidence, “Any chance I could speak to the guys who were attacked?”
“They’re not here at the moment, but if you come back tomorrow in the daytime, they’ll be available to talk to you.”
“Interview vampires in the daytime?” I ask, puzzled.
“I never said they were vampires. They were two of my human employees who take care of the building security during the day. They were no match for the strength of the assailants who attacked them, and even the vampire guards who were in the lower chamber were unable to restrain these attackers. A puzzle, wouldn’t you say, Officer Beecher?”
“They could have been humans on crack, or PCP. That can emulate the strength of vampires?”
He looks so totally unconvinced, “Possibly.”
“I’ll get back to you when I have the lab results, and I’ll call back tomorrow to speak to those men.”
He folds his arms across his chest, and looks me up and down, “I look forward to our next meeting, Officer Beecher,” he purrs with a voice like velvet stroked against naked skin.
I have to shake myself, quite literally, to walk away. As I reach the door, I can feel him watching me, his eyes raking over my body and I know that he can probably smell the sweat trickling down my back.
As I head out of the club, onto the street again, I feel exhausted, and I shiver as the chilly New York air attacks my heated skin.
As interviews go, that was pretty intense.