Chapter 1.
Natalia Vosmikovskaia1
Natalia Vosmikovskaia took a last look at herself in the mirror, and signed. Her long flight and 3 hours of sleep afterwards in a hotel bed have left their mark on her still youthful face. No amount of makeup was going to hide the dark circles under her eyes. Her cheeks seemed puffy and even though she just showered she felt like she was radiating a stench all around her. She was very angry that her boss did not consider giving her any notice. She wasn’t even given a chance to pack, Mathew just shoved her on the plane, smiled and waved good bye. It’d be a few hours, he said, you’ll be back tomorrow.2
It was Thursday in the office, when almost everyone left for lunch, Mathew Fredrick dressed perfect as always with that not a care in a world smile of his, asked her to join him in his office. Boss never left for lunch, he was always working on something. Some wondered if he even went home at all. Many of her co-workers got used to spending their lunch hour in his office. This was a first one for Natalia. She has recently joint the Interpol and spend most of her time cleaning up cases and getting coffee. A few times her expertise in Russian and Arabic came in handy for solving cases, but interviewing the immigrants was the most field work she got. She really wanted a serious assignment. She worked hard to get noticed and did a good job. When Mathew invited her to his office over lunch, she got a little nervous and excited. Maybe he finally noticed what a stellar job she was doing. Maybe this time she would get some serious work. At her 33 years of age she was still as excitable as a school girl when she smelled a good opportunity.
“ Please sit down, Natasha, would you like some coffee?” – Mathew spoke slowly, too slowly even. Like he wasn’t sure he should ask her anything at all. She noticed and it made her a bit more nervous.
“ No, Matt, thank you, what’s up?” - She tried to keep her voice steady, free of excitement. She was afraid if she takes a cup of coffee it would start shaking in her hand and then Mathew would not give her anything at all. She couldn’t let that happen.
- Are you sure now, maybe some snacks, a sandwich?
- No, I am good, really. – She smiled.
- You have been at this office for a while, yes? How long was it now? Let me think…” – Mathew tapped his chin with his index finger and stared past her.
- 2 years, Matt, you know that, I had a review with you a few weeks ago.
- Ah, yes, and you did well… so far… did you not?
- Ah-ha – she could not think of anything else to say.
- Tell me, have you ever worked with the half breeds before?
- You know some of our employees are half breeds, Mathew.
- Yes, true, but have you ever worked inside their world, their communities, outside of NCB?
- No, I have not had the chance yet. - “Where is he going with that? He is taking too long to get to the point.” she thought. She thought of asking him, but she knew better. Mathew never really answers a question, he is like every politician, if you want an answer never ask him directly. You will get a lot of information, but hardly any of it would be relevant, and it will probably just confuse you more. She tried to make herself sit still and be patient, wait for him to arrive there on his own. Otherwise she will never get the assignment. And she wanted an assignment so badly she was willing to say yes to anything at this point, just to get some work, to start some sort of a career.3
She spent six years in college and 5 years working in the police department in her home town, too small to have any serious crime. Most of her cases involved drunken stubbing or a robbery. When she transferred to Interpol she though it to be a miracle to be accepted, she thought now she would get some real cases. But after 2 years her hope started to fade. And now when she thought she was so close to the real deal she couldn’t lose on the account of being impatient. She was too good at her job to do anything else. She knew if she would just be given a chance she could prove herself.4
Mathew paused, looked out of the window, taped his figures on the table and hit the intercom button. 5
- Sallandra, some coffee please.6
A few minutes have passed in silence before Sallandra opened the door and slithered into the room holding a tray with cream, coffee and some snacks. She was a told and slender, a beautiful being. Her long green hair shimmered around her like a glowing aura. Sallandra was a half breed, some sort of a snake lycanthropy was in her blood. Natalia couldn’t quiet remember what breed of snakes it was. Sallandra has been Mathew’s secretary for many years now; she looked the same as when she has started. Mathew has aged significantly. She set the coffee on a little coffee table next to the big plush couch and left as quietly and gracefully as she walked in. Mathew gestured to the coffee. Natalia just shook her head. He got up, walked over to the coffee table and proceeded to pouring the hot dark liquid into a cup, slowly opening a creamer, sniffing it and then pouring it into his coffee. He repeated that a few times. Natalia thought she was going to scream if he doesn’t tell her now! 7
- Sallandra is beautiful isn’t she? – he asked
- Um, yes… Yes she is.
- You know most half breeds are very enchanting, when you look at them you can’t take your eyes off.
- Many people have been known to fall under their spell, yes.
- But you have a high resistance, to that it seems. – He looked at Natalia like she was a fly under a microscope and he was the mad scientist contemplating whether to give her a drop of honey or to pluck one of the wings off. – That’s why we picked you, you know. There are many people applying for a job here, but only a few get it. Especially not ones so young.
- 33 is not so young.
- Hmm, yes, I suppose. She sure makes the best coffee here, you should have some.
- I am good Mathew, but thank you.
- You still fluent in Russian?
- Yes, you know it is my first language.
- Excellent! Then it’s a done deal. You leaving today.
- Where?
- There is something about Russian group in Europe. Our office in Poland contacted me this morning. You remember Art, right?
- Yes he was here on assignment a few months ago. – She thought back to a few month ago, when she first met Art, a stunningly beautiful vampire. A bit too pale for her taste but something about him made her think of him almost every day.
- You seemed to have made an impression on him. He requested you specifically for this case. You plane leaves in 3 hours, Sallandra will give you a file that he send me. You can read it on the plane. A taxi in Warsaw will take you to the hotel; you can get some rest there until Art picks you up.
- Ok, I will need to pack a few things…
- No-no, no time, you go to the airport now. You know how high the security has been lately, you barely have enough time if you go now. We’ll take my car; get your purse I will meet you outside.8
She did not like flying much, she preferred to sleep thru it, but the file needed to be read before she lands. There will only be a few hours till sunset and then Art will be there expecting her to be ready for work. She opened the folder and began to read. Iliay Ystanov, had a bit of a criminal record, nothing solid was found to make anything serious stick. Witness in his cases had a strange tendency to die before questioning. His specialty was breaching the Polish – Belarusian bordered with contraband. He started by driving cigarettes into Poland and exporting clothing and other small things back to Russia. He then dumped it into Russian street markets. At first there was nothing that could be considered seriously criminal, just some bad paperwork. Then there was a suspicion that his merchandize was stolen and of higher value. He started driving truck loads of valuables stolen in Poland and Germany across the border. Very soon it stopped being profitable. And Iliay has disappeared for a while. Now he was back in Poland with a few of his Russian mob buddies. Any knowledge of his current business was very murky. Maksim Voronov aka Vorona, was his right hand and was spotted in Poland a few weeks ago. Voronov is thought to be connected with a prostitution industry. Nothing concrete there either. A file included a short summery of other Russians thought to be working with Iliay and his band. A file also included a profile of a girl, under aged teen, named Marina Gryzbowski. Her big dark brown eyes looked straight at Natasha from the photo. She was reported missing five days ago. The last person seen with her was Voronov. The surveillance photo taken across from the bands usual hang out, showed Marina and Maksim talking. The information was very basic at best, Natalia hoped Art has more and will bring her up to speed when they meet. 9
She had two more hours before landing and she tried to get some sleep. All she could think of was Art. She remembered how soft his lips were when he kissed her goodbye. She is still not sure how it happened, but while giving him a short tour she got a dinner invitation, after a few glasses of wine, they ended up in his hotel room, and then… Just thinking about his body, surprisingly warm, against hers made her lower regions cry out and she almost moaned out loud. The thought that someone on the plane might have read her thoughts made her blush. She tried very hard not to think about it. She did not approve of relationships at work. She also did not approve of inter species relationships. She knew that either one never ends well. But the thought of seeing Art again made her very happy. In the state of half dream she landed at Warsaw airport.
It was spring and the weather here was wonderful. Not like in Washington. There March still held a possibility of snow or of high cold wind. Warsaw was beautiful; she has not been here for 10 years. A sense of nostalgia washed over her. It was short lived. In USA everyone says pardon and excuse me, while they are pushing through the crowd. Here, people start glaring at you as they shove you out of the way. Although, nothing can compare to the rudeness in Russia. She was thankful she did not need to go there. Mathew said a few hours, and then she will go back home. She wondered what expertise she could offer that the Polish office doesn’t have. Could it be that Art just wanted to see her? That was a strange request on his part. She was sure Mathew knew more than he told her. He had a bad habit of not giving out any information until the last moment. It irritated Natalia just a bit; mostly it always kept her on her toes around Mathew. Natalia finally caught a taxi, and as they were driving down the beautiful streets of Warsaw she stopped thinking about Mathew and Art and just enjoyed the view. 10
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Chapter 2.
Arturo Don Giovanni13
Waking up was always a staggering experience. In many ways a vampire can lead a normal life in the darkness, the day light is another story. Art got used to so many things, and came to love each aspect in its own way. There was a beauty in them, but he could never come to terms of how close he felt to death during the sunset. It was not when the sun rose and drove him into a sort of stupor that he felt death. Even in his room, behind the iron curtains custom made for him, so no light can penetrate; where no cracks were left between the frame and the metal shield, he could still feel the sun. Sun couldn’t touch him, but it had a drowsy affect on him. Over the years he learned to focus hard and stay awake longer, but he would have to give in by noon and pass out. The daylight made his body unmanageable, limp and stiff at the same time, and the mind slow. He vaguely remembered feeling a similar sensation when he was human and had a bit too much to drink. In those days it was often. He was his father son, living a lavish life style of wine, over abundant food and women. His father Don Giovanni died without repenting for his sinful life, being dragged into hellfire. Art couldn’t really remember his own death except in those waking hours, when the feeling of barely escaping death washed over him. He was afraid that he too will be spending the rest of his eternity being burned alive over and over again. The waking up was always like being expelled into the world. He came to with a jerk, like a drowning victim comes to after some CPR, shaking violently, spilling out gulps of water from the lungs. He of course never spewed out water, but the cough was there, he was gasping for air, even though he really did not need it anymore. He was thankful, that the sensation was short lived, but no matter how short, he felt too close to death.
Art shook off the dread and went for the shower. He was full of doubt. Why did he ask that woman to come in on this case? There were others he could have used. Something about her made him uneasy and comforted at the same time. He lived a long time without any major attachments. He was afraid of that growing feeling inside him. He longed for her. In many ways he found her almost annoying, too eager, too empathetic, and too excitable. But he liked that about her. She was untainted. She was also very knowledgeable and good at her job. He suspected she had the sight. He could find no other explanation for the combination of her over emoting and being so successful at her job. He wondered if she knew, if she wanted to know. This case was strange and he could use someone with a sight, but he should have used some one more trained. Of course that meant working with more than one person. No other seers in the area knew Russian. He was not good at group work. And she already knew what he was, and did not seem to mind. It was not easy being a half breed in Europe, everyone was very suspicious. They all expected him to suck them dry. Even the people he so closely worked with over the years. Half breeds in the states had more legal rights, than here. But he could not abandon the beauty of Europe. As he got dressed he tried to calm his mind. He will need to be very careful around her. She liked him, and Art wanted to keep it so.14
Art had a few decades of police experience. Grave yard shifts suited him well. When half breeds were brought into the light he was one of the first few to go public. That was when the Interpol showed up and recruited him. He liked the work, and they treated him like a precious resource, but they did not trust him. Finding partners was always a challenge. He got used to working alone most of the time; bringing the experts in only when absolutely necessary. He had a good record for solving cases and Interpol let him keep his own methods when he transferred over.
Art finished dressing, and went into the kitchen. He liked to have some blood on hand for the nights when he knew he would have no time to look for fresh food. Interpol supplied him with human blood, nicely packaged in plastic bags with a huge hospital stamp on the front. He liked AB type the best. Something about the type made it feel more nutritional. He did not like drinking from a package, the blood was cold and there was no connection. But it was enough to keep him going through the night. He did not have to feed often. Art was older now, and the craving was receding. He needed blood every other night, half a litter. That was enough. But he needed to make sure he was up to full strength tonight, so a little snack could not hurt. He punctured the bag with a needle; a tube was attached to the other end of it. It was like drinking a juice box through a straw. He remembered the night he spent with Natalia, her blood, so warm coating his throat, her body melting into his. Her breath coming in gasps and moans. Her eyes, so bright blue like a morning sky, they were pleading for more. He shivered. He knew thinking about it would not help him tonight. Tonight he needed to focus on his work.
He could not find anything else to delay the meeting with, so he locked his penthouse suit and went down stairs. Elevator was another thing he didn’t really like. He jumped into his silver compressor and started the engine. He loved the cars of today, the engine was purring in the most calming manner. He slightly turned the wheel and the car responded. A few minutes later he was already speeding down towards the Le Regina hotel in the old town part of Warsaw. He knew Natalia chose the hotel herself. She liked old provincial Europe feel. He did too. 15
Art parked near Teatr Wielki, the theatre was only a walking distance to the hotel. Living in Warsaw for three years now, he never missed a chance to stroll through the old town. The night was warm. It was only March but it already felt like the beginning of summer. The scent of earth, coming back to live, was rejuvenating. Art’s shoes made a lovely clunk on the stone street. His mood was getting better and better. By the time he got to the hotel he was smiling. He pulled out his cell phone and dialled her number.
- Hello!
- Hey Nat!
- Art? You here?
- Yes.
- Do you want to come up?
- Better you come down, we can discuss it over dinner…. And some wine?
- Sure. – She almost giggled.16
When she walked through the lobby she was smiling, she seemed happy to see him. Art embraced her gently and felt her body respond. The need in his body rose. He stepped away still keeping her arms in his. He will need to be careful not to over step work boundaries tonight. There will be other nights. He looked at her face and noticed how tired she was. He was sorry he couldn’t have postponed it until she got more rest. Art knew he needed to fill her in on the details tonight, tomorrow night they will need to be in front of the Russia House Café, meeting with the informant, and it would be best if they were on the same page by then.17
- There is a small quiet restaurant just around the comer, we can talk there.
- Sounds good, lead the way. – She was still smiling.18
When they walked into the restaurant the soft lighting made everything appear more provincial, older. Art felt relaxed here. They picked the table near in the corner, away from the main traffic. Art ordered the food and the wine. When the wine arrived, he sent the waiter away and poured the Cabernet into the glasses himself.19
- A toast! To our meeting.
- To our meeting.20
When the first toast was made, Natalia looked at Art, she looked hesitant.21
- So, what was it, that you needed me for?
- Straight to the point, you seem anxious.
- I have been waiting for a serious case for 2 years now, I can’t help it.
- I know you like puzzles. I have a puzzle for you to solve. – He paused, the smile disappeared of his face, - You have read the file that I have sent to you NCB office?
- Yes, please tell me you have more information?
- There are a few more things. Let’s start with Maksim Voronov. You know why they call him Vorona?
- It’s a Russian thing, to take a last name and make a nick name out of it. Vorona means crow. I’d say it suits him, with his raven black hair and that death stare.
- Yes, true, but that is not all. He is a lycanthrope. He is a crow. We are assuming he had a different last name once before, in his case a nickname became a last name. We would have not known we was a half breed if it was not for a small shooting. We got a chance to analyse his blood, which was left splattered on the side walk.
- Wait, I thought half breeds can smell each other? How is it, that no one sniffed him out?
- Well, to detect a half-breed, another half-breed must be no further than a few meters away. And even when you are up-close there are other smells that can musk it. Vorona likes to wear a lot of cheap cologne. – Art wrinkled his nose; the memory of that smell was unpleasant.
- My God, Art! That should have been a first indication!
- How so?
- Well, from what I could see on the photos, the guy likes to dress well and only in expensive suits. There were a few Armani suits for sure. And the way the clothe sits on his big muscled frame, tells you that he uses a very good expensive tailor. The suits are obviously custom made. There was also a glimpse of gold Rolex on his arm. Now it could be a fake, but Russian mafia likes everything real and flashy. So for him to use a cheap cologne and use to so over abundantly should have been a clue that he is hiding another scent underneath!
- I love your attention to details! I can’t believe you extracted so much information out of that file!22
He laughed, his eyes shone with pride and approval. Natalia blushed; she hasn’t received that much praise for her attention in a long time. Most of her coworkers found it very annoying, although she understood they were just over protective of their cases and there may have been some jealousy lurking behind their cold remarks.23
- But how did you figure out that he was a crow? Do you guys have some tests here that we have not heard of in US? I thought you can only tell a general species, isn’t that a bit too exact?
- Another chance. A bystander, who saw him get shot, said he turned into a crow, now it could have been a Raven, but given his last name, we came to a conclusion it was a crow.
- Any idea when he was infected?
- No, I couldn’t find much on him before he joined up with Iliya. After Iliya stopped driving stolen valuables across the border, he met Maksim back in Russia. There is evidence that they are selling girls across the border.
- Oh my God, Art! You can’t be serious!
- Oh I am. But that is not a big part of our case really. Our office has been working them for a while now. The case was passed on to me just a week ago, when the girl, Marina Gryzbowski, went missing.
- I don’t understand.
- I will explain, patience. Oh, here’s our food. Let’s enjoy the food and then I will continue the story.
- Art, must you torture me like this?
- With good food you mean?
- You know what I mean, I am too curious to eat.
- Just smell the food and the appetite will come back, - he chuckled, and put a fork into his tender rare steak. – The food is excellent here. Trust me, I have a lot of experience with food.
- You know I always thought that vampires don’t eat food, just blood.
- Oh, we eat; blood does not hold enough of proteins necessary for muscle development. You can tell which vampire eats less often, by how slender he or she is. Some like that look. I don’t. Something about protruding bones thru a pale, bluish skin, just makes it seem like… less human.
- Art?
- Yeah?
- Do you feel embarrassed about being a vampire?
- Gosh, no – he smiled, but the smile seemed somewhat sad.- There are some things about it I hate, but there are things that come with being human that I hate as well. No one is perfect.24
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