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Blood Lust- Pt 6
Blood Lust- Pt 6
By Tony DeLorger © 2011
As the key turned and the door rattled Jeremy opened his eyes and rose to his feet, his mind razor-sharp. He stared blankly at the closed closet door, waiting.
The front door opened and two detectives entered the apartment. ‘Don’t get it. Apparently they have no idea what happened to the body, or even if there was a body.’
‘This stinks of something; Sanders was as dead as you can get. Every bone in his body was broken and even the blood loss alone would have killed him,’ the lead detective explained. ‘I saw him.’
‘Ok, lets find out who the hell this guy is. There has to be some clue. I’ll take the bedroom.'
Parsons began to rummage through the living area, searching draws looking in books, under cushions, anywhere that could offer some idea about what was going on. Jeremy stood silently listening to them dismantling his apartment, his eyes hard and fixed.
About ten minutes later, having found nothing out of the ordinary, Parson went to open the closet. The rattle made Jeremy bristle with anticipation; every muscle poised.
‘Hey Pete, can you remember if this closet was locked earlier?’
Pete came out of the bedroom with a pair of handcuffs in his hand. ‘No, it was opened last night. I had a quick look through it.’
‘What’s with the cuffs?’ asked Parsons.
‘Come in here, you gotta see this.’
Parsons let go of the closet door and went to the bedroom. Pete sat crouched next to the head of the bed. ‘Take a look. Someone’s kinky,’ he said with a grin.
On both sides of the wooden bed head there were strong metal rings and attached to each were cuffs. Around the rings many deep scratches and gouges out of the wood. They were in line with the top of the mattress and no-one had noticed them earlier.
Parsons ran his fingers over the scratched wood. ‘Shit! That’s weird. But nothing surprises me anymore. Let’s open that closet; there might be something in there.’
The men returned to the lounge area and Pete got on his knees and with a small handy tool from his pocket, began to pick the lock. Jeremy’s eyes hardened; he was ready for anything.
Moments later the lock released. Pete rose to his feet and opened the door. The two detectives were greeted by two yellow eyes in the shadows. They were glowing like hot coals. Both of them stepped back in shock.
Jeremy came out of that closet in a flurry of movement. Pete was thrown twenty feet toward the balcony doors and landed heavily against a lounge chair. Parsons was grabbed by the throat, his head all but torn off. Blood sprayed across the room as Jeremy torn flesh off his body, so quickly he was still upright on his feet. When his body hit the floor his upper torso was shredded and he hit the ground stone-dead in a pool of blood.
Pete shook his head and tried to get up. He was stunned and disoriented, but before he could get to his feet Jeremy stood menacingly over him. He dropped to the floor. Looking into his eyes in disbelief Pete mumbled. ‘But you’re dead,’ he said as if to reassure himself.
Jeremy smiled. ‘Very dead,’ he replied, before tearing his throat out, the blood spray covering the glass doors and curtains. The detective’s body hit the ground with a lifeless thud, and Jeremy casually locked the front door and went to have a shower and change.
Tara sat on a window stool in the cafe waiting for Jeremy to arrive. She was nervous, not knowing exactly how he would be. She remembered how disoriented she was when Auden turned her, but strangely Jeremy seemed in control, even confident,
Around six-thirty he arrived with a backpack and casual clothing. He looked like he was about to go on a hike in the mountains. Tara smiled lovingly as he approached but Jeremy’s expression remained serious and unemotional. He removed his pack and placed it down next to the table and sat down.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked with concern.
She reached out and touched the side of his face, the burns from the sunlight still evident. ‘You know you can’t...’
Jeremy interrupted. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything,’ he explained. ‘You know, it took me two years to find you.’
Tara was confused and reached out for his hand on the table. He quickly withdrew it.
‘You have no idea. Your maker’s taught you nothing, Tara. You are so naive.’
‘I don’t understand, I love you Jeremy,’ she pleaded.
He smiled. ‘Any other fanger would have known, would have sensed it. You, you’re like a child; you cling to your past, your humanity or what’s left of it. You’re weak, Tara. I really should finish you now, but you’ve given me what no other vamp could. All your power, your abilities are now flowing through my veins. And Auden, your wise old maker. A simple cloaking technique and he is useless. You fangers aren't what you used to be.'
‘You mean you wanted me to turn you?’
‘You catch on fast, Tara. We’ve been enemies forever, but now I have an advantage, and you’ve given it to me. I have your gifts, your thoughts. I am two in one. I am stronger than I could have dreamed. So tell your Auden I’ll be looking for him. We have a score to settle, a very old score.’
Tara was completely shattered but still didn’t understand. Jeremy rose to his feet and picked up his backpack, then looked into her eyes. They momentarily glowed like a flash of burning embers, and then returned to normal and he was gone.
Tara heart nearly stopped in her chest. She was shaking, staring vacantly out the window of the cafe. She mumbled incoherently and then repeated one word... ‘Lycan.’