EC-05: Minefield
From Irina DiSanti’s encounter reports
Friday, 05 Aug 2011
Devereaux-Shields House B&B
Natchez MS
0600hrs, local time
I couldn’t sleep. I showered til the water ran cold and I couldn’t sleep. Images of the night parading past my eyelids made sleep impossible. I sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. There was one thing I knew would do the trick. I pulled my laptop into my lap and booted it up. I had to put the stuff in my head on some form of paper or I would never sleep again.
I didn’t follow my usual format for an encounter report because the individuals on it weren’t the usual sort encountered. I opened a doc and started typing.
***
Who: Zadie Calhoun
What: Vampire
Age: 19 going on 9
Affliations: Tremere, trying to pass as Ventrue; as such, falls under Ventrue Eliza Beauchamps’s jurisdiction; knows someone called Professor in Oxford.
Complications: Ate the soul of another vampire. By Renny’s account, that’s the worst thing a vamp can do. It’s vampiric murder. It also affects the aura of the eater, making it impossible to hide what’s been done. Keeping the death of the vampire a secret is going to be nearly impossible.
Over the past week-plus of our association, I’ve found Zadie to be warm and empathetic, impulsive and rash, very much the typical teenager. She’s flippant, pithy, and snarky; vivacious and savvy. I have hope for her still—she seems adamantly against letting her humanity slide completely into oblivion, but I don’t know how long this will last—does vampirism erode your humanity down to nothing? I don’t know and though Renny is willing to entertain most of my questions, he’s frustratingly reticent about certain aspects of the condition.
And then there’s the other end of the spectrum.
Who: Charlie Cord
What: Vampire
Age: Not sure
Affliations: Gangrel. Not entirely sure what that means. I have the sense it’s less a social and more an ability or condition being indicated. He is what mob parlance would call a “cleaner”; Eliza Beauchamps arranged his addition to our crew to ‘clean’ up the loose ends of our ghoul hunt.
Complications: Not certain, beyond the fact that Gangrel don’t seem to be held with any liking or respect even amongst vampires.
Cord looks and sounds like a particularly dangerous redneck thug. I suspect he’s more than that, but doesn’t show it. He certainly has little truck with useless convention and needless ceremony. But again, that’s not quite the whole story. He’s assured in his vampirism the way top athletes are confident in their ability to execute their sport. He makes no bones about and has professed enjoying hunting prey and killing it.
And have I mentioned he’s very intimidating in person? It took everything I had not to flinch when he leans near, which he likes to do to provoke a reaction. A satisfaction I refused to give him. It’s like dealing with any other predator—never let them smell your fear, never let them smell blood. They’ll frenzy and tear you up alive if you do.
For all his dangerous side, I found it perversely easier to deal with him than some of the others—primarily because he made his position clear and didn’t stray from it. He speaks his mind, even if what he says is uniformly crude. His candor and his steadfastness was a relief.
It’s the ultimate paradox—Cord may be a vampire and a predator, but I felt the most assured with him. Maybe it was because his mindset—such as he allowed to show, anyway—was familiar. I’ve collared any number of killers on the force, have put away a serial killer or two. It’s a mine field I’ve walked before.
***
Where was I going with this?
I stared at the screen and debated closing the doc without saving it. I was surrounded by vampires and have either taken part in or facilitated the deaths of over half a dozen people. If what I’d done ever made it to court, there wouldn’t be a jury or defense lawyer who could save me. If I took the stand, I’d freely admit my guilt and let them send me to prison without appeal. And yet, here I was, expressing admiration and even maternal concern for the killers who by rights would rot in prison right next to me, were sunlight not the ultimate death sentence.
Again, where was I going with this?
I hit save and backed up to a thumb drive. I closed everything up and stowed it away, ready to grab and haul ass at a moment’s notice. Not that there was any running from the consequences. Certainly there was no running from the vampires themselves. They’d find me and kill me.
And that reminded me of something Renny said, something that got overshadowed in the events the night just past. The Giovanni were after me. They’d sent hunting wraiths looking for me and though I’d gotten a reprieve from an unexpected ally, it won’t be long before others would be dispatched to find and kill me.
Why?
I stared at my door and debated walking through it to wake Renny up and ask him. He doesn’t know the why, DiSanti, or the when. Only the who and the what—the same as you. Get some sleep. You have Eliza Beauchamp to deal with tomorrow and another dress to buy. If you survive tomorrow night, hit Renny up then.
I pummeled my pillow into submission and drew the covers up to my chin. As I’d had for the past week, I slept with the bedclothes piled high, the AC jacked up as far as I could get away with, and the ceiling fan spinning. The covers were a palpable weight and I needed the illusion of armor they lent me against the monsters that went bump in the night. A kid fear and a kid solution, but I wasn’t about to quibble.
I set my watch to go off at nine and curled up under the fortress of my comforter. The birds were singing their pre-dawn reveille when I finally dropped off.
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