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Maddox took his meeting inside the Pentagon at 9:45 am on Tuesday morning, the 14th of June. He made a note in his journal, believing it to potentially be a turning point. It had been a very long time since the human military had taken serious interest in vampires, not since messing about with gene splicing in an attempt to replicate undead powers only to realize that a vampire was a vampire, and no undead army was going to march under a human flag. Vampires were insubordinate by nature.
“Hello, Mr Maddox.” A sleekly put together young woman smiled at him welcomingly as she escorted him into a paneled room with a round table occupying most of the middle. “You’ll be meeting Sheriff.”
“Is that his job description, title, or name?”
“Name. He’s actually a Major.”
“Major Sheriff.”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful.”
Maddox sat down and waited. They left him quite a long time, a good hour after the agreed start of the meeting. They were waiting for the sun to reach its zenith, he imagined. They were afraid of him, even with their guns and their frightful weapons of mass destruction, their millions of troops and their endless plots and plans.
At 11:45 am, the door opened.
“Woo boy! Sheriff’s in town.” The man slapped a Stetson down on the table and spat into a nearby trashcan.
As far as obnoxious introductions went, that one was exquisite. Maddox found himself admiring the incredibly tedious human male, whose belly was only barely contained in a bright white jacket shirt with tassels, none of which could have been in any way regulation. A certain eccentricity was allowed for at the upper levels.
Sheriff was a red-headed gentleman with an aggressively full mustache and an even more aggressive temperament. He hailed from the great state of Texas, and he obviously made that very clear to anybody taking even passing notice of him.
“We’ve lost Agent Chauvelin, and I for one am keen to catch his murderer.”
“Vampires cannot be murderers, in the same way they cannot be murdered. Need I remind you, we are considered by government and insurance agencies alike to be an act of God.”
“Ain't nothing God-like about you sons of bitches.”
So, it was going to be like this. Humans of this kind often forgot that they were the weaker species, the prey to his predator. Maddox suppressed the urge to throw Sheriff across the room and feast on his sweaty neck. It took a great deal of self-control.
“Should kill every last one of yer,” the sheriff continued.
“A vampire cull would not be appreciated,” Maddox said, his eyes flashing. “It could be interpreted as an act of war. Our kind has been very careful not to interfere in human politics over the years, no matter how cruel, craven, and inhumane they became. Our wars are similarly off-limits to human influence.”
“And our agent?”
“It is a pity if some harm has come to Agent Chauvelin. But one must assume he understood the risks going in.”
“The word I hear is that you may have had something to do with his disappearance.”
“Is that why I am here? To be accused of a crime which is not a crime?” Maddox remained calm, though he was beginning to wonder what might be behind some of the panels. It would not have been the first time one of his kind had been assassinated by the military. When the military first discovered vampires, they killed every one they could find, often in the cruelest and most experimental of ways. Maddox had come prepared for such an attempt, which was why he could afford to sit and smile while this buffoon questioned him.
“No. You’re here because you stuck your neck out and offered to help mediate relations. Now you're here, and I’m telling you relations is about to get real bad if you don’t calm your city down. Understand?”
“Yes, Sheriff. You've made yourself very clear.”
“Well, good. Now, git out of here and fix your mess.”
To say that Maddox was in a bad mood as he stepped out into the midday sun was a spectacular understatement. He was in one of the worst moods he had been in a very long time. The sun didn’t do him any harm, but it certainly didn't feel good either. The entire meeting had been designed to anger him and make him uncomfortable. It had been a psyop, a complete waste of time. It would not go unavenged.
The hotel suite they had booked contained Lorien, and Will in the cage. They were both asleep, Lorien because he was young enough that the midday still knocked him out, and Will because what else could you do inside a cage.
“Wake up, boy.” Maddox nudged the cage with his toe.
Will lifted his head and looked at Maddox. “Bad day?”
Maddox was surprised by the sudden and unlikely empathy.
