Chapter 20

Tom's alarm clock forced him from slumber at the disgustingly early hour of ten a.m. He rubbed his knuckles into sleep bleary eyes, wanting nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep. That wasn't possible, though. The city wide memorial service for the men and women lost during the first raid on a vampire's lair was at noon. He couldn't miss it.

Turning to look at Mia's face, peaceful in dormancy, he whispered, "That's what I get for falling in love with a vampire: too damn accustomed to the hours they keep."

He kissed Mia's cool lips lightly and then pulled himself from the bed. Before exiting the room, he eased the blankets over her head to ensure that no sunlight would be able to find her. He quickly showered and put on his dress uniform, deciding at the last minute that he would just swing through a drive-thru for breakfast. To hell with his growing gut.

A half hour later, still munching on a sausage and egg burrito, he stopped by the hospital to check on those who had been injured the prior night. A short conversation at the reception desk informed him that all but Dana and Mark had been treated and released, although many of the others had follow up appointments.

He stopped by Dana's room first but found her asleep, her face still pale and drawn despite the blood that had been given to her by IV. Turning to leave, he almost bumped into the doctor that had performed the surgery on the injuries that Mia had inflicted on Mark at their first meeting.

With a nod toward Dana's sleeping form, the doctor solemnly stated, "Dramatic and profound anemia, with no sign of injury. A common condition as of late, though she is one of the few to survive it. I will, of course, continue to profess my ignorance of the underlying cause to anyone who asks, but I would like to know if there have been any developments."

With a smile, Tom replied, "Actually, doctor, I think you'll find that particular condition will be extremely rare from here on out."

While it was obvious that the doctor craved details, he contented himself with a relieved nod, "That may be the best news I've had in years. Thanks for the info, Detective."

Tom stopped by Mark's room next, grinning with amusement when he saw that Jenny was perched on the edge of the bed, watching her husband like a hawk. The determined look on her face made it clear that she would never again allow Mark to vanish without her knowledge. Tom chatted with the pair until it was nearly time for the memorial service. Before taking his leave, Tom had Mark give him the phone number of Peter Black, the former city police officer who was now involved with a 4H group in a rural suburb.

Tom called Peter as he drove to the Soldiers and Sailors Memorial in Oakland. The news was excellent. Peter not only did the butchering for everyone who purchased an animal from the 4H group, but also did a fair amount of such work for the farmers in his area. Peter estimated that he processed between ten and fifteen animals each week, and, because he worked the daylight shift for the municipal police department, he did all of the butchering at night. Finally, and most importantly, the animals were usually delivered to Peter alive and, if someone else wanted to pay a nominal fee for the privilege of killing them, Peter had no objection so long as the meat wasn't damaged. The "nominal fee" that Peter quoted was even actually nominal. Tom set up an appointment for that evening, and concluded the call just as he arrived at the parking garage near the memorial.

Tom was pleased at the turnout for the memorial service, which had been expanded at the last minute to include those who had fallen the night before. It appeared that every off duty police officer within a hundred mile radius had come to pay their respects and more than a few had traveled much farther. There were also far more civilians present than he had expected, and, although some were obviously there only for the spectacle of the event, most were somber and seemed grateful to the men and women who had given their lives in service to the public. This was so even though the masses still had no idea what these men and women had faced.

By the time all the speeches had been given, and the hearses, at the head of a miles long procession, had carried the honored dead across the city to be lowered into the welcoming earth, the sun hung low in the sky. Tom whispered a final farewell to his fallen brethern, and then left to address the needs of the living, or at least the needs of a single undead.

Traffic was unexpectedly light on the way back to his apartment and he arrived with more than an hour left until dusk. He decided to put the time to good use and curled up on the bed next to the dormant form of his lover, gently pulling her body toward him until she was spooned against him. Within moments he was asleep.

For Mia it seemed that every awakening over the past week had brought with it a completely novel experience. This night it was the feeling of waking up wrapped snugly in another's arms. She felt deliciously, wonderfully warm as she had not since the time she had received the Gift. While extremes in temperature did not cause her discomfort, warmth such as this remained exceedingly pleasant. With a happy murmur, she snuggled herself deeper into Tom's chest. Moments later, his arms tightened around her as he, too, came awake.

Mia twisted herself around until she could draw him to her for a kiss which lingered on until Tom pulled himself away with a reluctant sigh.

Giving Mia a light, affectionate pat on the bottom, he said, "I wish we could stay like this all night, but we have places to go and people to see."

"Oh?" Mia whispered indifferently as she gently tried to pull his mouth back to hers.

"I was thinking that I would take you out for dinner," Tom elaborated even as his half- hearted resistance of her efforts failed and their lips met again.

This time it was Mia who disengaged. Tom laughed at the bewildered look on her face and explained the arrangement that he had reached with Peter Black.

"Okay. Let's give it a shot," she said when he finished.

After a quick shower and an hour drive into rural western Pennsylvania, they arrived at Peter's abode, an ancient but well maintained farmhouse sitting in the middle of recently plowed fields that stretched over the gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see.

As they exited the car, Peter came out to greet them. Of average height, he was thick with muscle and had a broad, kind face topped with hair that was beginning to thin despite his relative youth.

After introductions and handshakes had been exchanged, Tom gazed around the countryside as he commented, "A policeman, a butcher and a farmer. I'm impressed."

With a chuckle, Peter replied, "The land's mine, been in the family for a couple generations, but I rent it out to a real farmer who lives down the road a ways. I barely have the time to keep a small garden behind the house."

After sizing Tom up for a moment, Peter ventured, "I gotta tell ya that I didn't know what to make of your call, so I dialed Mark up. He vouched for yinz guys, said you were on the up and up, and promised that yinz weren't gonna be doing nothing perverted. He also told me that I shouldn't ask no questions, so I won't. What you want with them animals ain't none of my business and, as long as you don't mess up the meat, I won't make it my business. I got two pigs in the barn out back that need butchering tonight. I reckon that you can find the barn on your own. Let me know when yinz are done so I can do what needs doing 'fore the meat goes bad."

Tom shook Peter's hand again, slipping the man a folded up twenty in the process. With a polite nod, Peter thumbed the cash into his pocket and vanished back into the house. Walking around the side of the house, Tom and Mia found only a corrugated metal garage that, by the process of elimination, had to be the barn to which Peter had referred. When Tom raised one of the double garage doors, bright florescent light spilled out into the darkness.