Not a Sidekick
Chapter 1
This story isn't going to be quite the tale you're used to. For starters, I'm probably Ridley Vidal's polar opposite. When he goes right, I turn left; when he says jump, I find a comfy place to sit down. Granted, most of that contrariness is just to spite him, and he damn well knows it, but we'll ignore that fact for the moment. Even without me purposely pushing his buttons, we've always been very, very different.
It starts in the morning, or whatever qualifies for morning when you work for the ECU. Ridley gets ready like a well-practiced soldier, quick shower, clothes laid out the night before, designated breakfast time. Me? Well, if I hit the snooze less than 3 times, its a good day. I zombie walk to the shower, use enough water to make conservationists croak just so they can roll over in their graves, even shave in the shower if I feel like it, then drag my soggy, well-toned ass back into my bedroom.
Getting dressed is occasionally a production. Which cut of underwear do I feel like wearing? Which color pallet should I pick? Grey and pinstripe black sounds good. Tie? Never. Vest? Eh, maybe tomorrow. Ah, suspenders! I guess its back to childhood for me today. I pull on some dark socks and dress shoes to complete the look. I almost went for the saddle shoes, too...
In case you didn't already know, I grew up in the roaring 20's; jazz, bootlegging, and a return to the frivolous lifestyle that Americans are famous for. Ridley will tell you I never got out of that mindset, and he may be right. But then again, by the time the depression hit, he was already a vampire. Food wasn't scarce for him, neither were money or jobs. I was a kid, and I felt it, so the explosion of music and frivolity that followed was welcomed by me with open arms. It left its mark on me, and I won't deny it. Sometimes after a hard day I'll flop onto my couch and listen to the few records I managed to get my hands on. Music soothes the savage vampire, don't let anyone ever tell you differently.
Anyway, I didn't start this story just to tell you how different Vidal and I are, I actually have somewhere I want to take this.
That morning, this one having started at 3pm, I got out of bed after a few extra hits of the snooze, showered until my fingers pruned, dressed in dark pinstripe pants, a grey shirt worth-more than a months rent in the 80s-, my suspenders, and black dress shoes, and grabbed a bottle of cold A positive on my way out the door.
I wish I could tell you that I got into a cool, vintage Chevy muscle car and laid on the gas all the way to work, but I didn't. I took the subway, like everyone else.
Hey, having a car in New York City is insanely impractical....so my '67 Camaro sits in a climate controlled storage facility just outside Hoboken and I visit whenever I can. She's blue, just in case you were wondering.
So, yes, the subway. Its not terribly crowded at 3pm, but there was still a respectable gathering on the platform. As I slipped onto the car, I found myself in between a punky looking teenager, in pants too tight on his little chicken legs, and the well appointed brunette he was oggling. I flashed her a smile and dropped a non-discriminate line about the weather, with which she eagerly agreed.
It was only a 5 minute ride to my stop, but Jeanie, the 22 year old intern at the district attorney's office who moved here from bumble, Virginia and misses her horse very much, and definitely, definitely is NOT seeing anyone in case I was curious, handed me a bit of paper with a number hastily scrawled on it as I got off. I grinned at her and stuffed her number in my pants pocket with a wink.
It's a gift.
I spotted a tired looking coworker heading down the stairs and threw them a nod of acknowledgement as I came up the same flight. He smiled wearily and shook his head. "The place is a madhouse, Ike. Hope you brought your work boots, because the shit hit the fan and everyone is stepping in it now."
I couldn't help it, I rolled my eyes. "Please tell me I've got Kayne today. I don't think I can handle it if Ridley's got his panties in a bunch already."
The other man barked out a laugh. It made the wrinkles, the ones that vampirism had smoothed away, come back around his eyes and mouth for the briefest of moments. Rodney had been in his late 40s when he'd been turned, but the turning had seen to it that he'd be considered a silver fox for the rest of eternity. For people like him, vampirism evened out the odd features, somehow without changing much. It pulled together the weird angles, faded out the blotches and blemishes on the skin, and generally made anyone look attractive. You could tell he'd been goofy looking as a mortal, but now his quirks were something that made him interesting to look at. The smile on his face was definitely more genuine now. "Well, then you better hurry up and work your magic. Ridley's shift starts in 2 hours but if it gets any worse the director might call him in early."
"Well, shit." I let out a groan. "Looks like the weight of the world is on my shoulders again. Enjoy your night, Rod."
He yelled his farewell as the growing traffic hustled him down the stairs and I turned back to the exit. A breeze ruffled my hair as my head popped up above ground level, smelling strongly of coming rain. It pushed around the meticulously styled locks, making me sigh in annoyance. My wax would hold against the wind, but I spend time making sure my hair looks good, and the thought that I might be spending the evening trying to avoid the rain while cleaning up this mess was just one more point against today.
Yeah, I know its a little vain to worry about my hair in a crisis situation. So sue me, I like to look good.
The building the ECU was located about 10 blocks off of Time Square, right in the heart of the city's busiest businesses. The lobby was expensive and secure, making anyone who entered have to touch their ID to the turnstiles just to enter. I hurried to catch the elevator and, 20 floors and a short walk down the deserted hall later, I saw that Rodney hadn't been exaggerating.
The ECU was in mild chaos.
The cute little nibble of a receptionist (and I could nibble if I wanted to, she'd told me herself) looked harried. The phone was to her ear, her hair looked like she'd been grasping at it in frustration, and there were folders all over her desk, with more on the way, if those two more secretaries hurrying this way, so I didn't bother to stop and flirt. I just waded into the mess.
I could hear at least 15 conversations the minute I walked in the door; a downside to having superhuman hearing. Most of the secretaries and low level cleaners were making phone calls, anxiously discussing procedures, urging others to "please hurry" or "make this a priority". I walked past the sea of desks, grabbed a folder out of the file holder on the door to my office, and continued until I reached the door marked "Special Agent Kayne Miller", hit it with 3 quick raps of my knuckles, and entered without waiting to be asked in. As expected, Kayne was on the phone, so I dropped into the chair across from his desk and propped the folder open on my crossed leg to read as I waited.
The first thing that I noticed was the stack of photos clipped to the top of the manilla folder. They were enough to make even a veteran detective queasy, but I had close to two decades on the most experienced investigators, and very little of what I saw was ever pleasant. There was plenty of blood, gore and mess in the first photo on the pile, and the next 3 pictures were only more of the same; just close ups or differently angled shots. The next photo set was familiar; I'd handled the case myself. Woman, mortal, late thirties. Her throat appeared to have been ripped out, as if by a wild animal, but later, the ECU Medical Examiner had determined it had been nearly chewed out by a set of mostly human teeth: A vampire, then, rather than a werewolf. That had set my blood boiling and I could feel the surge of anger returning as I looked at the photos. I skipped them and moved on to the next. The sight had been burned into my mind already. The next 2 photosets were similar, young adult to middle aged women, all dressed to the nines, though it was hard to tell through the blood, and all had their throats chewed out. I hadn't been shown the other 3 cases yet, which meant at least one of these killings had happened within the last 24 hours, and someone had finally made the connection.
The perp from my case had never been caught, and it seemed I wasn't the only one he got away from. They were going to call in the cavalry, now. I glanced down at my shirt and sighed. I really liked this shirt, but blood stains were hard to get out of the expensive fabric, and I doubted I'd get through the next shift without there being a big mess of rogue vamp blood somewhere on the streets of New York.
I was just beginning to consider a trip home to change, when Kayne hung up the phone. "That was Director Atkins. He wants all available agents here and briefed as soon as possible." No greeting necessary, right to business; par for the course for most of these guys. His eyes flicked to the folder open in my lap and back to my face, which must have had a trace of the scowl the photos had put on it. "Ah, you've seen what we're dealing with."
"Yeah and I'm ready to put the bastard down." I very nearly growled out the response. I guess maybe I was a little more pissed than I thought. "What about Vidal?"
"On his way."
"Good." Seeing the pictures had changed my mind about Ridley's presence during this shit storm; the vampire was a good man, a loyal friend, and a certifiable nightmare to anything immortal that violated the laws of our kind. Having him behind you on a case like this definitely put a heavy weight in your corner. "He's gonna lose his cool the minute he gets briefed."
Kayne shook his head and shuffled the papers on his desk around a bit, looking for something. "Already been done. He's furious, as can be expected, but he'll calm down by the time he gets here. He's not quite the same, er, overzealous man we're so used to."
Which brings me to Ixtli. I bet you were wondering when he would come up. The former thorn in the ECU's collective side shifter, turned informant was Ridley's great love. Yeah, weird right? The crazier part is we all saw that coming the moment they met (and immediately started making each others lives miserable). Ixie is a world class pain in the ass when he wants to be, but he's a sweet kid, and since he was turned (in an against all odds fairy tale happy ending kind of way....no seriously) and he and Ridley settled in together, the older vampire has been infinitely more bearable. It was inevitable though; shifters are playful creatures and it was learn to lighten up and have fun, or find a new soulmate. In short, Ridley was doomed to become a better person.
"What can I say? Ixtli is a force of nature." I felt a smile tug at my lips thinking about the lovable little upstart, but even Ixie couldn't have kept the gloom away today. There was very bloody work to be done. "I take it that means I don't have time to change then?"
It starts in the morning, or whatever qualifies for morning when you work for the ECU. Ridley gets ready like a well-practiced soldier, quick shower, clothes laid out the night before, designated breakfast time. Me? Well, if I hit the snooze less than 3 times, its a good day. I zombie walk to the shower, use enough water to make conservationists croak just so they can roll over in their graves, even shave in the shower if I feel like it, then drag my soggy, well-toned ass back into my bedroom.
Getting dressed is occasionally a production. Which cut of underwear do I feel like wearing? Which color pallet should I pick? Grey and pinstripe black sounds good. Tie? Never. Vest? Eh, maybe tomorrow. Ah, suspenders! I guess its back to childhood for me today. I pull on some dark socks and dress shoes to complete the look. I almost went for the saddle shoes, too...
In case you didn't already know, I grew up in the roaring 20's; jazz, bootlegging, and a return to the frivolous lifestyle that Americans are famous for. Ridley will tell you I never got out of that mindset, and he may be right. But then again, by the time the depression hit, he was already a vampire. Food wasn't scarce for him, neither were money or jobs. I was a kid, and I felt it, so the explosion of music and frivolity that followed was welcomed by me with open arms. It left its mark on me, and I won't deny it. Sometimes after a hard day I'll flop onto my couch and listen to the few records I managed to get my hands on. Music soothes the savage vampire, don't let anyone ever tell you differently.
Anyway, I didn't start this story just to tell you how different Vidal and I are, I actually have somewhere I want to take this.
That morning, this one having started at 3pm, I got out of bed after a few extra hits of the snooze, showered until my fingers pruned, dressed in dark pinstripe pants, a grey shirt worth-more than a months rent in the 80s-, my suspenders, and black dress shoes, and grabbed a bottle of cold A positive on my way out the door.
I wish I could tell you that I got into a cool, vintage Chevy muscle car and laid on the gas all the way to work, but I didn't. I took the subway, like everyone else.
Hey, having a car in New York City is insanely impractical....so my '67 Camaro sits in a climate controlled storage facility just outside Hoboken and I visit whenever I can. She's blue, just in case you were wondering.
So, yes, the subway. Its not terribly crowded at 3pm, but there was still a respectable gathering on the platform. As I slipped onto the car, I found myself in between a punky looking teenager, in pants too tight on his little chicken legs, and the well appointed brunette he was oggling. I flashed her a smile and dropped a non-discriminate line about the weather, with which she eagerly agreed.
It was only a 5 minute ride to my stop, but Jeanie, the 22 year old intern at the district attorney's office who moved here from bumble, Virginia and misses her horse very much, and definitely, definitely is NOT seeing anyone in case I was curious, handed me a bit of paper with a number hastily scrawled on it as I got off. I grinned at her and stuffed her number in my pants pocket with a wink.
It's a gift.
I spotted a tired looking coworker heading down the stairs and threw them a nod of acknowledgement as I came up the same flight. He smiled wearily and shook his head. "The place is a madhouse, Ike. Hope you brought your work boots, because the shit hit the fan and everyone is stepping in it now."
I couldn't help it, I rolled my eyes. "Please tell me I've got Kayne today. I don't think I can handle it if Ridley's got his panties in a bunch already."
The other man barked out a laugh. It made the wrinkles, the ones that vampirism had smoothed away, come back around his eyes and mouth for the briefest of moments. Rodney had been in his late 40s when he'd been turned, but the turning had seen to it that he'd be considered a silver fox for the rest of eternity. For people like him, vampirism evened out the odd features, somehow without changing much. It pulled together the weird angles, faded out the blotches and blemishes on the skin, and generally made anyone look attractive. You could tell he'd been goofy looking as a mortal, but now his quirks were something that made him interesting to look at. The smile on his face was definitely more genuine now. "Well, then you better hurry up and work your magic. Ridley's shift starts in 2 hours but if it gets any worse the director might call him in early."
"Well, shit." I let out a groan. "Looks like the weight of the world is on my shoulders again. Enjoy your night, Rod."
He yelled his farewell as the growing traffic hustled him down the stairs and I turned back to the exit. A breeze ruffled my hair as my head popped up above ground level, smelling strongly of coming rain. It pushed around the meticulously styled locks, making me sigh in annoyance. My wax would hold against the wind, but I spend time making sure my hair looks good, and the thought that I might be spending the evening trying to avoid the rain while cleaning up this mess was just one more point against today.
Yeah, I know its a little vain to worry about my hair in a crisis situation. So sue me, I like to look good.
The building the ECU was located about 10 blocks off of Time Square, right in the heart of the city's busiest businesses. The lobby was expensive and secure, making anyone who entered have to touch their ID to the turnstiles just to enter. I hurried to catch the elevator and, 20 floors and a short walk down the deserted hall later, I saw that Rodney hadn't been exaggerating.
The ECU was in mild chaos.
The cute little nibble of a receptionist (and I could nibble if I wanted to, she'd told me herself) looked harried. The phone was to her ear, her hair looked like she'd been grasping at it in frustration, and there were folders all over her desk, with more on the way, if those two more secretaries hurrying this way, so I didn't bother to stop and flirt. I just waded into the mess.
I could hear at least 15 conversations the minute I walked in the door; a downside to having superhuman hearing. Most of the secretaries and low level cleaners were making phone calls, anxiously discussing procedures, urging others to "please hurry" or "make this a priority". I walked past the sea of desks, grabbed a folder out of the file holder on the door to my office, and continued until I reached the door marked "Special Agent Kayne Miller", hit it with 3 quick raps of my knuckles, and entered without waiting to be asked in. As expected, Kayne was on the phone, so I dropped into the chair across from his desk and propped the folder open on my crossed leg to read as I waited.
The first thing that I noticed was the stack of photos clipped to the top of the manilla folder. They were enough to make even a veteran detective queasy, but I had close to two decades on the most experienced investigators, and very little of what I saw was ever pleasant. There was plenty of blood, gore and mess in the first photo on the pile, and the next 3 pictures were only more of the same; just close ups or differently angled shots. The next photo set was familiar; I'd handled the case myself. Woman, mortal, late thirties. Her throat appeared to have been ripped out, as if by a wild animal, but later, the ECU Medical Examiner had determined it had been nearly chewed out by a set of mostly human teeth: A vampire, then, rather than a werewolf. That had set my blood boiling and I could feel the surge of anger returning as I looked at the photos. I skipped them and moved on to the next. The sight had been burned into my mind already. The next 2 photosets were similar, young adult to middle aged women, all dressed to the nines, though it was hard to tell through the blood, and all had their throats chewed out. I hadn't been shown the other 3 cases yet, which meant at least one of these killings had happened within the last 24 hours, and someone had finally made the connection.
The perp from my case had never been caught, and it seemed I wasn't the only one he got away from. They were going to call in the cavalry, now. I glanced down at my shirt and sighed. I really liked this shirt, but blood stains were hard to get out of the expensive fabric, and I doubted I'd get through the next shift without there being a big mess of rogue vamp blood somewhere on the streets of New York.
I was just beginning to consider a trip home to change, when Kayne hung up the phone. "That was Director Atkins. He wants all available agents here and briefed as soon as possible." No greeting necessary, right to business; par for the course for most of these guys. His eyes flicked to the folder open in my lap and back to my face, which must have had a trace of the scowl the photos had put on it. "Ah, you've seen what we're dealing with."
"Yeah and I'm ready to put the bastard down." I very nearly growled out the response. I guess maybe I was a little more pissed than I thought. "What about Vidal?"
"On his way."
"Good." Seeing the pictures had changed my mind about Ridley's presence during this shit storm; the vampire was a good man, a loyal friend, and a certifiable nightmare to anything immortal that violated the laws of our kind. Having him behind you on a case like this definitely put a heavy weight in your corner. "He's gonna lose his cool the minute he gets briefed."
Kayne shook his head and shuffled the papers on his desk around a bit, looking for something. "Already been done. He's furious, as can be expected, but he'll calm down by the time he gets here. He's not quite the same, er, overzealous man we're so used to."
Which brings me to Ixtli. I bet you were wondering when he would come up. The former thorn in the ECU's collective side shifter, turned informant was Ridley's great love. Yeah, weird right? The crazier part is we all saw that coming the moment they met (and immediately started making each others lives miserable). Ixie is a world class pain in the ass when he wants to be, but he's a sweet kid, and since he was turned (in an against all odds fairy tale happy ending kind of way....no seriously) and he and Ridley settled in together, the older vampire has been infinitely more bearable. It was inevitable though; shifters are playful creatures and it was learn to lighten up and have fun, or find a new soulmate. In short, Ridley was doomed to become a better person.
"What can I say? Ixtli is a force of nature." I felt a smile tug at my lips thinking about the lovable little upstart, but even Ixie couldn't have kept the gloom away today. There was very bloody work to be done. "I take it that means I don't have time to change then?"