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“You didn’t drink from them?” I asked.
The vampire chuckled, “I am nothing if not a diligent law abider. Also, they reek of alcohol and arewerewolves. I would never so sully my body.”
I didn’t think he was lying about not drinking from them—I didn’t see any of their blood on him. If he’d sipped on them, I don’t think he could have avoided that. There was no doubt in my mind he’d beaten them up.
What do we do in this situation?
Supernaturals didn’t follow typical human justice and law practices. The various races clashed occasionally, and the Cloisters typically remained uninvolved.
The task force existed more as a way to ensure supernaturals didn’t mess with humans and that any supernatural conflict was ended before it got close to endangering/involving humans.
This is such a small fight—and he handled it fast. But… his power.
His presence set my teeth on edge, he didn’t have offspring, and Grove was right, he seemed new to Magiford.
This is something we need to report to Captain Reese and Sarge.
The vampire stirred, and I immediately switched my hold on my daggers to a defensive position.
“So jumpy,” the vampire said. “But unless you feel inclined to join those mongrels, I’d suggest you run along.”
I could feel my slayer powers stir in my blood. “That sounds like a threat.”
“Certainly not,” the vampire said. “Law abiding citizens don’t make threats. It’s merely anobservation.” His voice turned darker with the warning.
I stiffened, and my every inner alarm screamed at me to get out and flee this predator.
“Ooh, a fight! Let me get my poison out,” Grove unhelpfully declared.
Our radios erupted with a metallic shriek that made Brody yip and slap his hands over his ears.
It was so loud my initial reaction was to cringe but I was too well trained to give into the feeling, so I stayed locked on the vampire.
“Backup request—over on Goldstein Street! Six mantasps are loose on the street!”
I immediately jumped off the dumpster and ran towards my squadmates as Brody herded Grove out of the alleyway.
“You’re really going to leave?” the vampire asked. “Just like that?”
I glanced back at the intimidating shadow he made. “We’ll be back,” I said. “And I expect there will be three live werewolves when we return.”
I ducked past the car and raced out to the street, then sheathed my daggers—running with bare blades wasn’t a great idea. I glanced back at the alleyway—I couldn’t see the vampire anymore but I could still sense his presence—then poured on the speed to catch up with Brody. “I’m here.”
Brody pressed a button on his radio. “Team Blood, on our way,” he shouted into the machine.
Grove panted as he made an abrupt turn, heading south, away from the lakes. “Where’s Goldstein Street?” he asked.
“It’s a several minute run from downtown,” Brody said. “It’s a business street—lots of office space with a few stores, some human banks, and Tutu’s Crypta & Custodia.”
Thankfully, our little fieldtrip brought us a few blocks south; that will save some time.
“It might take more than a few minutes,” I said as I tried not to glance at Grove—he was the slowest of our trio.
“Why don’t we go get the car?” Grove huffed, his bag smacking his side with every stride he took.
“Because the car is a ten-minute run in theoppositedirection,” Brody said.
We sprinted through a crosswalk, which got us honked at by a car that wanted to turn.
