Chapter 11

For once when Mia awoke, she didn't need to extend her senses to be able to tell that she wasn't alone; she could easily hear the two men bickering and bantering in the next room with occasional input from a feminine voice. Mia stretched, luxuriating in the feel of the soft bed beneath her. Her cramped dark casket was safer, but this certainly had its advantages as well.

Rising, she focused her will slightly to put her hair in place and started to walk to the living room when she noticed a pile of women's clothing with a post-it affixed to the top. Even in the dim light she was easily able to read the message, "I left this here because I wasn't sure when you would wake. I picked up some things to tide you over until we can go shopping together. If you'd like, you know where the shower is. T." Mia smiled and began poking through the stack.

Several minutes later, she walked barefoot into the living room wearing a pair of jeans and a Clarks t-shirt. Both men and the woman looked up from where they were carving points on sticks and greeted Mia with smiles, though the woman's was quite cold. Tom held out an arm in invitation. Mia bent forward for a quick embrace and a light kiss, marveling again at how different this night was from the thousands that had preceded it.

Tom, with occasional input from Mark, quickly brought her up to speed on the preparations they had made during the day, and introduced her to Dana. As Mia digested the information, Tom asked, "Would you mind working with Dana for a few minutes to help us get a picture of Arthur?"

Mia readily consented and the two women moved to the kitchen table, pointedly ignoring the fast food containers and dirty dishes which eloquently demonstrated that Tom was indeed a bachelor. Dana quickly got the laptop with its complex graphics software up and running; the term "sketch artist" was something of an anachronistic misnomer in this day and age.

Outwardly, Dana worked with cool professionalism, but Mia could sense the disquieting and often violent images running through her head; one of the most prevalent being the image of Dana impaling Mia with one of the crude spears. Even worse for Mia, the scent of fear that rolled off the woman in waves was exciting her predatory instincts. Between this and the pain that her assistance cost her, by the time they had a reasonably close image of Arthur pieced together, Mia was seething with resentment and anger.

At last, after confirming with Mark and Tom that the image was to be distributed to all patrol cars with orders to report any sighting immediately but to make no attempt at arrest, Dana stood to leave. As Dana turned to nod farewell to Mia, a final improbable and violent image from Dana's mind caused Mia's anger to boil over. Mia returned the woman's nod with a wide smile, her fangs sliding into place. Dana paled and fled the room.

With a sad sigh, Tom asked Mia quietly, "Was that really necessary?"

Mia returned hotly, "No, I suppose not, but she annoyed me. The entire time we were working, she kept fantasizing about impaling me with one of your glorified curtain rods. It pissed me off."

Tom nodded in sympathy and replied, "I understand, but think of things from her perspective. She worked on the composite of you that went around the station yesterday. She knows that composite was done in connection with the investigation of more than one murder. She was listening on the radio when the SWAT team reported sighting a male and a female perp during the raid yesterday evening. She helped pick up the pieces, sometimes literally, last night. She's far from stupid. She knows that you were somehow involved with the death of quite a few of her friends, even though Mark told everyone that it was Arthur who did the actual killing. She even knows that you're a vampire. Despite all of this, she was willing to come here knowing that she would be working with you. She, and the rest of our team, are putting our collective goal ahead of any personal feelings."

Mia slumped with a look of mild embarrassment on her face, "You're right. Please tell her that I'm sorry. I've never really worked as part of a group before, but I am trying."

Tom pulled her into a tight embrace, "I know you are, Mia. We're all in new territory here, it'll take some getting used to."

After a moment, Tom released her and asked, "Would it be ok if we asked you some questions? If answering any of them will cause you pain, just let us know and we'll move on."

Mia shrugged, "Any information that I could give you that will be of any use will be, at least to some degree, a betrayal of my Mas, err, of Arthur. It's ok. I'm accustomed to pain. It's far easier to endure when it's for a good cause." The faces of both men drooped in sympathy.

They all sat silently for a few minutes, neither man apparently willing to start asking questions when they knew what answering would cost her. Mia looked back and forth between them expectantly for a while before finally blowing out a mouthful of air in exasperation. Crossing her arms across her chest as a bulwark against the pain she knew was coming, she started, "How about if I just start with the basics, and then you can ask questions as needed."

At nods from both men, she continued, "From the moment a vampire is created, it is far stronger, faster and more agile than it ever was in life. All senses, sight, sound, hearing, taste, and touch, are also enhanced. As a vampire ages, all of these things improve. The difference from one year to the next isn't that impressive, but over the span of a century the accumulation is very significant. Age isn't the only factor for determining the strength of an ability; there are individual variations between us. For example, my sense of smell is far better than Arthur's, even though he is a lot older than I. On the other hand, he is physically stronger than I could ever hope to be, even if I survived for a thousand years. We also develop a few abilities like nothing we had as a mortal. Foremost is the ability to change, but we also have a very short range form of telekinesis and can extend our senses remotely. The influence of the telekinesis is limited to things on or in very close proximity to our bodies; for example we can clean or repair clothing, reorder our hair and open locks if we're touching the key hole. The extension of senses is like a short range clairvoyance. I can extend mine roughly thirty meters. Arthur maybe fifty."

Now that the ice had been broken, Mark leaned towards her, "Tom told me that he thought that maybe you could tell where your, uh, Arthur, is. That so?"

Mia replied, "I can tell which direction he is in, but can't tell you how far. I'll know if he moves closer or further away, but I don't know what good that will do you without knowing the start point."

Tom pursed his lips in thought, "Which direction is he now?"

With a wince of pain, Mia gestured to the southwest, "That way, moving slightly away from us."

"So, he's not coming for you at the moment, at least. Would you be able to lead us to him?" Mark asked.

"Well, I could. However, I wouldn't be able to pinpoint his location until we got extremely close, say within twenty sachine, err, excuse me, fifty meters. I wouldn't even know that we were getting anything but relatively closer until then. That near, all it would take would be a whisper from him and you would have two vampires to fight. On a related note, I should also tell you this: He was happy that the battle with your men happened. He wanted to be exposed. Now that he is, he won't be hiding anymore. His daytime resting place will be well guarded, most likely by mercenaries. Robbing his victims for centuries and carefully investing those gains has left him with nearly limitless resources for hiring them. I also would not be surprised if he starts making new fledglings. So, if you go for him at night, you need to be ready for one hell of a fight. It will take, at the very least, overwhelming numbers."

Tom gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, but focused his attention on Mark, "Triangulation," he said simply.

At Mia's look of confusion, Mark explained, "We take you around the circumference of the city and have you point in his direction from several known points. We get out a map, draw some lines, and, bingo, we know where he is."

Mia nodded her head slowly. "That could work, but I expect that he will be on the move the entire time he is awake rather than sitting around waiting for us to show up. During the day, when he is in his new lair, I won't be of much help."

Tom's shoulders slumped slightly. "Ok. Do you think he'll come looking for you?"

Mia shivered, "Yes. That is almost a certainty. Whether it's to reclaim his lost toy or to punish me for my betrayal of him, he will come."

Far more gently, Tom asked, "When he does, would you be willing to be, well, bait is really the only way to describe it?"

Mia nodded quickly, "Of course. When he comes for me, I would much prefer that he walk into a trap than that the alternative occur. If we do set such a trap, though, you must make certain that I am tightly secured. Thick chains would probably be best. Otherwise, when he comes..."

"Understood," Tom said. He flicked his eyes toward Mark.

"I'll pick some up from maintenance, boss. No problem."

Tom next asked, "Well, you've told us that wood and sunlight can kill vampires. How about full spectrum lights?"

"We actually tried that on a feral a few decades ago. It didn't work. My theory is that it's not a physical property of the sun that does us harm but a spiritual one."

"Feral?" Mark asked.

"When a vampire creates another, he can do it in two different ways. The first is by feeding his own blood to his victim as the victim is dying. In this case, the fledgling will rise with mind intact. If, however, a vampire simply feeds on a person and does not disconnect the brain from the body, that person will likely rise, but will be nothing but a mindless animal. Ferals are extremely hard to control and very dangerous. Their strength and speed are far greater than those of a normal fledgling of equal age. For these reasons, ferals are usually only created by mistake."

Tom's eyes widened in sudden understanding, "So that's why the victim's necks were broken."

Mia nodded.

What about things like garlic, crosses and holy water?" he then asked.

Mia shook her head, "The belief that holy objects have power over us is only superstition. Arthur told me that there are some of our kind who were very religious in life. Because of their strong beliefs, holy symbols of their specific faith could cause them -oh, what's the word? - psychosomatic injury. Arthur's not like that. On the other hand, I can tell you from personal experience that garlic causes extreme skin irritation that takes a while for even us to heal. But while it interfered with my ability to change and hurt like hell, it wasn't fatal."

"You mentioned change earlier. What does that mean, exactly?" Tom asked.

To demonstrate, Mia raised her hand, her eyes squinting in concentration. The skin on her forearm and hand rippled and formed chitinous spikes as her fingers and nails elongated to form sharp claws. Both men shied back with widening eyes. She concentrated again and lowered her now normal hand back to her lap. "Change," she said.

Chewing on his lower lip, Mark said, "Garlic could be useful. We could use garlic water like mace, maybe. Might make him at least a little less dangerous."

Mark's eyes suddenly narrowed, "Hold on a sec. You said that holy symbols don't have any effect but that a spiritual property of the sun does. Isn't there a bit of a contradiction there?"

Mia shook her head, "Spirituality and religion are hardly synonymous or even necessarily compatible."

Hastily seeking to head off the brewing religious argument between Mia and his devout Catholic friend, Tom asked, "Can you read minds, Mia?"

"I can read surface thoughts, mostly in the form of images, and blur recent memories. I can also use a form of compulsion to plant limited suggestions, but they will only be followed as long as they aren't completely at odds with the person's desires. Arthur's abilities in this area are much stronger. He can control a single person completely. He can root through all of your memories and make you relive any of his choosing. He can also completely erase entire weeks from your recent memory."

"Is there any way to keep him out of our heads?" Tom asked.

"Not that I know of."

"On a more personal note, Mia, would you be willing and able to live off animals?" Tom asked in a casual tone. Mia could tell from the way his scent shifted to reveal intense anxiety that his interest was anything but casual; to Tom this might be the most important answer of the night.