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After a long and rather unproductive day, Rick woke to his phone ringing at five the next morning. This time it was Director Leon himself.
“You and Dante have another case.” The director got to the point brusquely. “Male Caucasian, about thirty, works a dining cruise on the wharf. He was found floating beside the yacht he pilots this morning.”
“If Dante’s lead, why are you calling me?” Rick honestly didn’t care who was lead, but he wasn’t about to start stepping on the toes of a guy who could take a bullet to the head and walk away.
“Prelim report suggests a vampire got him.”
“Ah.” Rick threw off the covers and crossed to his dresser to start pulling out clothes. Dante’s last partner had been taken by a vampire, supposedly. Whether Rick believed in all that or not, Dante clearly did, Which meant this case might be a bit triggering for him.
“He’s going to try to cut you out. Don’t let him,” Director Leon warned. “Just watch your back and remember that the bullets in your gun are silver alloy, so if something goes for your throat, you have the stopping power to take it down.”
“Seriously?” Rick paused and looked over at his gun sitting on his bed stand. These people really took this paranormal stuff seriously. “Just out of curiosity, what happens if Dante gets hit by a silver bullet? Is he dead-dead like your vampires and whatnot?” He couldn’t deny what happened to Dante, but he couldn’t explain it either. And it didn’t mean he would just accept all the other weirdness as truth just because Dante existed.
“Ha. No.” Director Leon barked a harsh laugh. “Nearly all of us have had to use our weapons on him at one point or another. The only thing that can keep Dante from resurrecting is to keep him from burning.”
“Hold up. Why would I need to use my weapon on him?” A mental image of a flaming Dante coming at him while he pumped him full of silver-laced lead rose up in Rick’s mind. He shook it off and swallowed hard. Dante didn’t seem to be a monster. There had to be another explanation.
“Think about it, Rick.” The director sighed. “When death is just a reset, there are a whole lot of things that are worse. Don’t worry, it doesn’t happen that often.”
“You can’t seriously be telling me that...” Rick trailed off. He’d only just started to accept that he’d have to watch his partner die repeatedly, the thought that he might have to kill his partner himself was about enough to send him back for the resignation paperwork. He rubbed his hands over his face. “Forget it. Just text me the info about the crime scene.”
Rick drove to the address the director sent him. The MPD had done their jobs, and the area was cordoned off and a few uniformed officers kept the curious onlookers back from the crime scene.
“I’m looking for Agent Dante Brand. Fancy suit. Flaming red hair.” Rick flashed his badge to the officer who appeared to be in charge.
“Yeah, we know Brand. He’s on the boat with the victim.” The officer looked him over. “You’re his new partner?”
“Started yesterday.” Rick wondered what other human officers thought of his new partner, so he added, “Do you work with him often?”
“On and off for twenty years.” The officer shrugged. “He’s always polite and efficient, but man, do they give him the weird cases. Like this one. The first responders swear it looks like a vampire got him. Can you believe that?”
“That’s pretty unbelievable,” Rick agreed dryly. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. Maybe a serial killer with a Dracula fetish.” He was an awful lot less sure than he’d been twenty-four hours earlier, and that bothered him just a bit. He ducked under the tape. “I probably should catch up to him before he does all the fun stuff and leaves me with the paperwork.”
“Tell him Mallory said hi.” The officer waved him through. “And, hey, if you ever find out what his skin care regimen is, let me know. I swear he looks even younger than the last time I saw him. I’d love to get my wife in on that.”
Rick snorted as he walked away. The poor guy would be better off buying his wife some cream at the mall. He was pretty sure getting sniped wouldn’t work out quite as well for her.
He found Dante onboard a sleek yacht with the name Potomac Siren painted on the side. He was standing on deck interviewing a woman with long blonde hair, a slender body, and a tear-streaked face. She wore a pale blue sundress, beaded sandals, and a necklace made from an elaborately painted cowrie shell. Dante looked up the moment Rick’s foot first hit the gangplank. His face paled and his lips pulled into a tight line, then almost immediately melted into a forced smile.
“Ah, Ms. Johanna Bennett, this is my partner, Agent Rick McCoy.” Dante gestured to Rick. “Rick, this is the victim’s wife and the co-owner of this vessel.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Rick nodded to her solemnly.
“Thank you so much for your time, Ms. Bennett.” Dante stepped back and rested a firm hand on Rick’s arm. “I’ll get my partner up to speed and let you know if I have any other questions.”
The woman nodded as Dante steered Rick back toward the gangplank. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m going to need help with this case.”
“Huh. Okay.” Rick narrowed his eyes and slowed up. Dante wasn’t behaving at all like the director had implied he would, but he wasn’t acting right either. “What are we looking at?”
“Chip Bennett – the victim – was closing up for the night last night and never came home. His wife – a mermaid, as you may have noticed –”
“And how would I have noticed that?” Rick interrupted. “She looked like she had legs to me.”
“Yes. Apart from the fact that the merfolk are allied with the fishermen and boat crews, she wore a painted conch. The merfolk use enchanted shells to give them legs and allow them to live on land for longer periods of time.” Dante waved a hand like he’s just explained something basic, like where the President lived. “Her time was up, so she had to return to the sea last night and didn’t realize he didn’t come home.” Dante lowered his voice. “She found him this morning on the flybridge deck with what appeared to be a bite mark on his neck. The medical examiner on the scene said it appears all his blood was drained.”
“Vampires? In DC? Other than the ones in suits working at the Capitol?” Rick tried to joke, but Dante didn’t seem to get it. His partner looked surprised for a moment, then realized he was teasing and shook his head.
“As hard as it is to believe, I think we probably should look into the possibility that there might be other murders like this in the area. Someone trying to make it look like a vampire murderer.” Dante guided him further from the decks and closer to the parking lot. “We’re almost wrapped up here. So I’d like you to get a head start checking on that. Contact the Capitol Police, Metro Police Department, Maryland State Police, Virginia State Police, probably the FBI wouldn’t hurt, as well.”
There it was, the busy paperwork distraction Rick had anticipated. Contacting all those departments would take at least the rest of the day, if not longer. “Doesn’t PNI have a research specialist?”
“Yes,” Dante drew out the word slowly, “but I know I can trust you to make sure nothing is missed.”
“Are you sure it’s not that you want me as far from this case as possible, preferably safely inside the office?” Rick turned and shook Dante’s hand free. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the flamethrowing agent touching him, gloves or no gloves.
“Of course not, you’re a highly capable agent –”
“Who is fully capable of handling himself.”
“So was Wes.” Dante’s voice was barely audible, but each word was a staccato punch. “I’ll not lose another partner the same way.”
“I’ll have Director Leon buy me a silver studded dog collar and a bottle of garlic perfume. You’re not going solo.” Rick crossed his arms over his chest, hoping Dante didn’t really demand he did either one. “Why would a vampire kill a yacht owner?”
“Because he had human blood? Not unlike you.” Dante sounded irritated, but at least stopped pushing Rick toward the police line.
“You’ll have to enlighten me sometime why you’re so repulsive to them that you can just go off chasing after them without fear.” Rick matched Dante’s irritation with his own. Half of it was irritation at the whole ridiculousness of vampires, half with Dante’s bull-headedness. “Unless this fantasy world of yours just plays by whatever rules you make up for it.”
Dante drew back and stiffened. He muttered something in Italian or Latin that Rick couldn’t decide if it was a prayer or a curse, then took a deep breath. “I can assure you that these ‘rules’ are deadly serious, and if you can’t trust me far enough to accept that much, perhaps it would be better if you did return to the office.”
“And if you can’t trust me enough to handle myself when this stuff gets weird, maybe you should have picked a different partner to begin with,” Rick snapped. “I’m sure VampirePhoenix is still available. He won’t have any trouble accepting that basically every weird thing imaginable is real. Pardon me if twenty-four hours and a couple miraculous resurrections aren’t quite enough to make me swallow everything without question.”
Regret, disgust, and a little fear marched across Dante’s expressive face in order before his expression settled on remorse. “I apologize, mon ami. You are right of course. I was expecting too much from you and not giving you enough credit at the same time. I just... had hoped neither of us would have to face this particular threat so soon. I fear neither of us are ready.”
“Tch. We probably aren’t, too bad the vampire didn’t have the courtesy to ask before sucking the blood out of someone in our town.” Rick’s own anger cooled.
“They can be rude like that.” Dante chuckled. “And, to answer your question, yes, I am repulsive to them. Vampires are creatures of darkness and evil. Fire both illuminates and purifies. My resurrection grace is in my blood, and they cannot tolerate it.”
“So what is the next step? Preferably one that doesn’t involve either of us going off alone, or garlic perfume.” Rick was suddenly sharply aware they’d been fighting near a crime scene like an old married couple. Thankfully, Dante had managed to maneuver him far enough from the boat to avoid notice.
“His wife was quite adamant no one had any reason to want him dead, though of course I have the office double checking financials and such.” Dante sighed and rounded his flashy car. “Which means we’ll need to visit Laysha and inquire about her coven.” He paused to open the driver’s door. “You’re sure I can’t convince you to at least stay in the car?”
“No chance.” Rick scoffed. “You’re stuck with me.”