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“Remind me never to complain about summer in New York again.”
“Oh, you should not. Summer is wonderful.” Eduardo flashed me a broad smile. Already on this trip he had said New York, the FBI, Jeeps, and Tuesdays were wonderful. I was starting to think he was a robot programmed by the American government to infiltrate the Bolivian Special Intelligence Service and inundate them with goodwill towards the US. No one should be this naturally happy about everything.
Especially not considering the reason I was here.
“Can you tell me anything that wasn’t in the report?” I was almost shouting over the rattle of the jeep. This poor car was going to shake itself to pieces, and then we’d need to walk the entire way back to Coroico.
“How much do you know?” he asked.
“Idiot vampire who thinks he’s a god is taking his weird legion of bloodthirsty baby vamps into the nearby villages and putting the indigenous people in those villages at risk of being wiped out.”
“Si.”
Ba-BUMP. I was literally lifted from the seat before smacking back down hard.
Come to think of it, maybe walking wouldn’t be such a terrible thing after all.
“And you know where he is?”
“Yes, he has moved into some ruins near Taipiplaya. His group has grown considerably. We believe there are almost twenty of them now. But it’s hard to know for certain.”
Damn. Twenty baby vamps in the early stages of bloodlust, doing the bidding of some nutjob who had them believing he was a vampire god.
No wonder I was here.
In the three years since vampires had been outed to the world—in part because of me—most countries had come up with systems to deal with those who went rogue and rejected the very strict laws of the vampire council.
The trouble was, rogues were usually individuals.
A highly trained kill squad, like the one the Special Intelligence Service had, wou
ld be able to manage one or two vampires easily. There were protocols: silver bullets, beheading, sunlight. These teams were skilled, smart, and effective. They didn’t need someone like me for the regular jobs.
But any vampire who could exert control over twenty newborns and start killing off whole villages? That was beyond anyone’s scope.
Almost anyone.
This was more than my job, this was my calling. I’d spent most of my adult life hunting vampires and other supernatural freaks. When supes had gone public, my role shifted a bit, and I became the face of Human-Supernatural Relations in America.
Why?
Well, when you were born half-vampire, half-werewolf, and you stop the apocalypse while the world is watching, you inadvertently draw a lot of attention.
I had died.
And then I’d come back.
Now I was human, but people still seemed to have a lot of the same expectations of me. One of which was that when shit hit the fan, I’d show up with a mop and bucket.
Or in this case a gun loaded with silver bullets.
Turns out being human didn’t mean I suddenly decided to be a fragile little flower who sat behind a desk. I might not be as strong or as fast anymore, and I couldn’t shift into a wolf or flash vampire fang, but I was still good.
One of the best.
Fighting the undead for a decade left me with a certain set of skills that would have made Liam Neeson blush with pride.
Am I bragging?
