Six years ago.

            “Ever hear of the Cross Killer?”

            Alice sat in a classroom, waiting for the professor to arrive as he wished the other students would stop talking so she could review the textbooks in front of her.  She’d decided to become a police officer, specifically a police detective.  If Alice got a two-year associate's degree in criminal justice, she could apply for the police academy and become an officer by the time she turned nineteen.  Alice’s time at Saint Vivia University was very straightforward for her.  Go to class, study, and avoid pointless distractions like the conversation going on a few seats away.  Their conversation had begun with alligators in the sewers of New York, gone over Bloody Mary, and had now settled on this Cross Killer.

            “No,” said one of the other students. “What is it?”

            “The Cross Killer is this guy covered in cross tattoos.  They say he’s this religious fanatic who murders nonbelievers by impaling them with a sharpened wooden cross.  The story goes that he was an altar boy at a church and the congregation he served died in a fire someone started.  He was running late and found everyone dead.  This drove him insane, and he found the arsonist, impaling him with a wooden cross he’d sharpened.  Then he got cross tattoos all over his body and set out to kill nonbelievers with that same wooden cross.”

            “Are you sure?  I thought he was supposed to use a sword.”

            “I’ve heard versions where he burns people with acid.”

            As they argued the various versions of the story, Alice decided to get up and walk to a seat on the other side of the classroom.  For obvious reasons, the subject of psycho murderers was one that Alice didn’t particularly care for.  It dredged up bad memories from her.  As she sat down again, Alice did her best to suppress those memories.

            She didn’t want to start crying in class, after all.

 

Present Day.

            Alice sat in a wheelchair as a nurse pushed her through the white walls of the facility.  She still had bandages on her cheek and her neck and wore a hospital gown.  Agents Thompson and Walker walked in front of her as men in pitch black military style uniforms patrolled the hallways.  This area seemed to be a medical wing, with doctors and nurses walking by as they passed more hospital rooms.  Occasionally, Alice would catch a glimpse of medical equipment like a CAT scanner or an X-Ray machine as someone left a room.  If Alice didn’t know any better, she’d have thought this was just a regular hospital, apart from the black clad soldiers.

            As they wheeled her through the facility, a few things occurred to Alice.  One, none of the rooms, not even the hospital room she’d been in, had any windows, which she found strange.  The second thing she realized, as she thought back to this agent Phoenix, was that she’d heard a story about a man covered in cross tattoos.  It was an urban legend that came up every once in a while.  Alice had never given it much thought, and the idea that this person was real and could be her brother absolutely floored her.  She figured the stuff about him being a religious fanatic was probably just misinformation.  Maybe it was just easier to believe that than believe vampires existed, but hopefully, she’d get some answers soon.

            They were taking her to speak with this Agent Phoenix, after all.

            Soon they reached an elevator and rode it to the floor just below the top floor.  At least, it was the second to top button on the panel.  Alice noticed something odd about the buttons, and at that moment, something occurred to her.

            “This facility is underground, isn’t it?”

            “All except the first floor,” admitted Agent Thompson. “How’d you guess?”

            “The lack of windows,” said Alice. “And the elevator buttons.  Floor one is the top floor, not the bottom like in most buildings.  That would make sense if you started with the top floor and added more as you dug downwards.”

            “Very good, Mrs. Hayes,” said Walker.

            “Just try not to deduce too much,” said Agent Thompson. “We have our secrets for very good reasons.”

            “As much as I’d love to tell my partner to lighten up,” said Walker. “I have to agree.”

            Alice was smart enough to stop talking.

            They left the elevator and entered the second floor, which looked like an office building.  Within the various rooms Alice saw desks, computers, and filing cabinets.  She also saw a few archive rooms filled with rows and rows of shelves lined with boxes.

            Finally, they wheeled Alice into a larger office with fine artwork decorating the walls, filing cabinets in one corner, and shelves filled with small figurines that appeared to be from all over the world, including Europe, Africa, and Asia.  Alice didn’t know the significance of any of them, but some of the little figures looked religious in nature.  The only one she did recognize was a crucifix.

            But Alice’s attention was immediately drawn to people already in the office.  Sitting to the side was Agent Phoenix, now wearing a long black jacket as he stared at the wall with an unreadable expression on his tattoo covered face.  Behind the exquisite oak desk in the center of the room sat a tall, burly man with a grizzly grey beard wearing a fine suit.  He was clearly an older man with wrinkled skin and a head full of thinning hair, but as he stood, he moved with the energy of a younger man.

            “Detective Hayes,” said the man behind the desk. “Welcome.  I’m Director Farrow, the head of this facility.  I wish we could have met under more favorable circumstances.”

            “Yeah,” said Alice. “Me too.”

             “Please, take a seat,” he said to the two agents. “Nurse, please wait outside.”

            The nurse pushed Alice’s wheelchair to the side and then excused himself.  Agents Thompson and Walker took seats nearby.

            “Let’s cut to the chase,” said the Director.  “Alice Hayes, your brother was taken by vampires ten years ago.  Correct?”

            Alice nodded.

            “And Agent Phoenix here was taken by vampires as a child, and given his approximate age, it would have been around the same time.  Agent Phoenix, does Mrs. Hayes here spark any memories?”

            Agent Phoenix took one look at Alice, looked back to Director Farrow, and said, “No.” He seemed completely disinterested in the conversation.

            “Memories?” asked Alice, incredulous. “You mean like amnesia?  Seriously?”

            “Common vampire practice, Mrs. Hayes,” said Thompson. “You see, the primary reason vampires create more vampires is to create a more powerful servant.  The problem is that giving someone vampiric powers includes a vampire's mental powers, making the victims harder to control.  If someone remembers the human life taken from them, resentment can build, and the first vampire inevitably loses control.  However, if all the victim remembers when he becomes a vampire is serving another vampire, then he’ll just keep doing what he knows.  For that reason, a vampire will slowly suppress the memories of any victims it intends to turn.”

            Alice looked down.  She didn’t like hearing this.  It made sense, but still.  Agent Phoenix just stared at the wall again.

            “Are you sure this woman doesn’t look familiar?” asked Director Farrow.

            Agent Phoenix took another look, “No.  She doesn’t look familiar.”

            “Alright, what about you, Mrs. Hayes?  Does he resemble your brother?”

            Alice took a look while this Agent Phoenix stared at the wall again, completely indifferent to her presence.  Now that Alice had the chance to get a good look at him, she tried to ignore the tattoos and just examine his facial features.  She looked closely.

            “Yes,” she said, hopefully. “Take away the tattoos and he kind of looks like dad.  I’ve seen photos from when he was younger.”

            “That doesn’t prove anything,” said Phoenix dismissively.

            Alice was startled by little he seemed to care about this.  Why didn’t he want to know where he came from?

            “Then let’s prove it,” said Alice. “We’ll run a DNA test.”

            “Won’t work,” said Phoenix. “I’m a crucivire.”

            Alice sighed.

            “And what is a crucivire?”

            The room went silent for a moment as everyone looked to Director Farrow, who shrugged.

            “She already knows about vampires.  Go ahead and tell her.”

            Agent Phoenix rolled his eyes and raised his palm.  There was a cross there, but it wasn’t a tattoo.  It was a white scar.  Alice looked at it, bewildered.

            “I don’t understand,” she said.

            “A crucivire,” said Phoenix. “Is a failed attempt to create a vampire.  When turning a human into one, a vampire will first enthrall the human until he forgets their old life and is completely subservient.  Then they will drain him until he dies.  At this point, the victim comes back to life, and once he drinks his first drop of blood from another human, a new vampire is born.”

            “And cutting a cross into the victim’s hand can stop this?” asked Alice. “It’s that easy to get the powers of a vampire without actually becoming one?”

            “No,” said Phoenix. “Easy is the last word I’d use to describe it.  For starters, if you do it during the enthrallment stage, all it does is sever the connection between you and the vampire.  This lets you get away but won’t grant you any power.  If you do it after feeding on a human, then carving a cross into your own skin will simply kill you.  To become a crucivire, you must do it after you resurrect, but before you feed on a human, and trust me, that’s a very narrow window.  The vampire turning you will often have a victim ready for you when you wake up.  At that moment, you’ve been conditioned by a vampire for weeks at a time.  Sometimes for months.  Sometimes even for years.  You have to maintain a semblance of free will with a vampire manipulating your mind, and the longer they take, the harder it is to hold onto that.

            “To make matters worse, the moment you wake up, you’re ravenously hungry, and you can smell the blood that courses through a human’s veins.  It’s an enticing aroma, like smelling a medium rare steak after starving for months.  When that happens, most people can’t help themselves.”

            Alice clenched the arms of her wheelchair.

            “You could,” said Alice. “Clearly.”

            “I could,” said Phoenix. “But I don’t recommend trying it.  Someone else can’t carve the image. You have to do it yourself.  If you can, then the curse becomes a blessing, and you will have all the strengths and weaknesses of a vampire without the thirst for human blood.  But in the hundreds of years since vampires first roamed the Earth, only seven people in history have managed to do it, including me.”

            Alice didn’t know how to respond.  It was all a stark reminder of what her brother must have gone through, whether this agent Phoenix was her brother or not.

            “I…” Alice stammered. “I can’t imagine what that was like for you.”

            “Take my advice,” said Phoenix, staring at the wall again. “Don’t try to.  You’ll be much happier for it.”

            Alice took a deep breath.

            “Why can’t we run a DNA test again?” she asked.

            “We already did,” said Farrow. “Vampiric transformations alter DNA itself.  Both vampires and Agent Phoenix have DNA that doesn’t resemble human DNA.  We tried to determine his ancestry so we could find out where he came from, but that proved futile.”

            “Okay,” said Alice. “Well, what about the vampire that took you?”

            “I killed him a long time ago,” said Phoenix.

            “Well…that’s good,” said Alice. “But that’s not what I’m getting at. What was his name?  And can the Night Hunters trace his movements?  I don’t know what resources the Night Hunters have, but if we can place him at Saint Vivia at the time of Arthur’s disappearance, then that would be strong evidence that you’re my brother.”

            Agent Phoenix just shrugged.

            “I’ve already got people on it,” said Director Farrow. “According to Agent Phoenix, the vampire’s name was Kenneth Noble.  We do have ways of tracking vampires, and we’re looking for evidence that he was in the area at that time.  I’ll let you know if we find anything.”

            “Is this really a productive use of Night Hunter time?” asked agent Phoenix. “Need I remind you that the vampires are up to something.  There hasn't been a gathering this big in a long time.  People are dying out there.  Can’t this wait?”

            “Agent Phoenix,” said the director. “The vampires attacked Alice Hayes because they think she’s connected to you.  If they’re right, then there’s a good chance they have a source of information that we don’t know about.  I, for one, would like to know what it is.”

            Agent Phoenix shrugged, and Alice once again had to ask herself how he could be so calm about this.  He wasn’t wrong about people dying, but still.

            “Why did they go after me?” said Alice. “Just as a hostage?”

            “That’s a possibility,” said Agent Walker. “Agent Phoenix has been a valuable asset with one of the highest vampire kill counts for someone his age.  But they may also have sought to turn you into a vampire.  If Agent Phoenix is your brother and got his memories back, they’d have a vampire he’d be reluctant to kill.  You’re the closest of kin, and unlike your mother, you’re likely to survive enough feedings to actually become a vampire, so you’re an obvious choice.”

            “Does any of this matter?” said Phoenix.

            Up to this point, Alice had tried to remain calm and rational.  The subject they were discussing, and this Phoenix’s disinterest in the conversation, made that harder.  This question, though, finally got to her.

            “Of course it does,” she said, looking at Agent Phoenix in disbelief. “How could you even ask that?  I…we might be your family.”

            “I have a job to do,” he replied. “As I already said, people are dying out there, and the best way I can help them is to kill every single one of those overgrown leeches I can find.  Every minute I spend talking to you is time I could spend saving people’s lives.”

            “I didn’t say that wasn’t important,” said Alice. “I just…I…I…”

She couldn’t think of anything else to stay.

            “May I go now?” Phoenix asked Director Farrow.

            Director Farrow sighed and said, “Yes, I suppose you may.”

            Agent Phoenix left, the door almost slamming shut, and Alice watched him go, feeling faint.  She resisted the urge to cry, and though a tear didn’t fall down her cheek, she did feel her eyes watering.

            “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hayes,” said Director Farrow. “Agent Phoenix does have a reputation for being…” he searched for a word. “Blunt, but even so.  I didn’t expect this.”

            “I mean,” said Thompson. “Phoenix wasn’t exactly wrong.”

            “Not the right time, Thompson,” said Walker. “Not the right time.”

            “Agreed,” said Farrow sternly.

            Alice tried to get her thoughts together but couldn’t think of what she wanted to do next.  After a few distraught moments, she finally asked, “May I use a phone, please?”

            “I’m afraid I’d have to ask whom you intend to call,” said Farrow.

            “My partner, Gary,” she replied. “If I’m not allowed to tell him anything, I won’t.  I just…I need to hear a friendly voice.”

            Director Farrow didn’t answer, and in fact, the look on his face told Alice that he didn’t want to answer.  She looked around, and both Walker and Thompson had similar uncomfortable looks on their faces.  Alice felt a familiar sense of dread.

            “No,” she said, shaking her head. “No.  Please don’t tell me…”

            “I’m sorry,” said Farrow. “Last night, while we were distracted by your situation, something happened to your partner.”

 

The previous night.

            “Yeah,” said Gary into his cell phone. “Those serial murders have been that had been happening in Saint Vivia were taken over by the FBI days ago.  No, I’m still exhausted.”

            Gary stood in his small suburban house cooking some steak on his stove as he talked with his brother.

            “Well, Peter, in addition to the murders, we’ve been getting a lot of missing person cases—more than usual.  To complicate matters more, whenever one of those cases becomes connected to the murders…relatives, friendships, whatever…that case gets forwarded to the FBI as well.  Even then, I’m still run off my feet with all the cases I’m getting.”

            “Sounds pretty serious,” said Peter on the phone.

            “There’s more,” Gary continued. “People have started panic buying, we’re hearing reports of looting, and people are leaving to stay with relatives, which keeps the major roads congested.  It’s getting insane over here.”

            “Maybe you should consider leaving for a few days yourself?”

            “We’ve already lost one good officer that way.  I don’t blame her, but someone has to help keep order around here.  These missing persons aren’t going to find themselves.  I’ll be fine.  Don’t worry about me.  You should be more worried about Helen’s grades.”

            “Gary, I love you, but I’d appreciate it if you let me worry about my daughter’s grades.”

            “What?  And Uncle can’t worry about his niece's future?”

            “Normally, I’d tell you to get married and have your own kids, but now I just want you to stay alive.”

            “Oh C’mon, Peter.  I’ll be…”

            Someone rang the doorbell.

            “Huh,” said Gary. “I seem to have company.  That’s odd.  I’ll talk to you later.”

            “Sure thing,” said Peter. “Take care of yourself.”

            Gary put his phone away, temporarily turned off the stove while he wasn’t watching it, and he went to the front door.  As he approached, he grabbed his service pistol and tucked it into the back of his pants, just in case.  When he opened it, he was greeted by an absolutely stunning young woman with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a heart shaped face.  Seeing her, illuminated by the light from the house as darkness lay behind her, Gary had to take a step back.  She looked up at him with a helpless expression, and Gary had to ask himself why he was holding his breath.

            “Please, sir,” she said. “I took a wrong turn, and now I’m lost.  Now my car isn’t starting, and my phone ran out of power.  Can I borrow your phone, please?”

            “Uh…sure,” said Gary. “I’ll just need to get it.”

            “May I come in, please?  I’d rather not wait outside at this time of night.”

            Gary hesitated.  The FBI agents he’d spoken with suggested that the murderers were likely posing as people in need of help.  That being said, he did already have his gun, and she didn’t look dangerous.  If it came to a physical altercation, he was bigger and stronger, and there was no way she was hiding a gun in those clothes.  Clothes that, he noticed, hugged her slender figure closely.  Not that this was important.

            “S…sure,” said Gary. “Come on in.”

            She smiled at him sweetly as she stepped inside.  As Gary went to retrieve his phone, she closed the door behind her, locking it as she kept her eyes on him the entire time.  As she watched him go with a hungry look in her eyes, she licked her lips.

            “My phone’s in here,” said Gary. “I can recommend a few towing places if you…”

            Something grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms as teeth sank into his neck.  Gary cried out in pain as he realized that the woman had grabbed him and was sucking on his flesh.  He tried to move, but her slender arms belied incredible strength, and he couldn’t budge her.  Her feet seemed stuck to the floor, rooting the pair of them to that spot.  He struggled for a few more moments until he started feeling dizzy.  Slowly but surely, he stopped struggling, his arms going limp as a fog spread across his mind.  Finally, the woman pulled her teeth out, licked his neck and her mouth clean, and then let him go.  Gary just stood there, motionless, wondering why he wasn’t doing anything.

            “Follow me, sweetie,” she said.

            Gary felt himself turn to go with her.  He tried to motivate himself to disobey but couldn’t.  Slowly but surely, she led him out of the house and to her car, where a man in a leather jacket waited in the driver's seat.  Once in the backseat, they drove away, and Gary looked back at his house.  He’d left the front door open.

            “Where are you taking…” he started.

            The woman sitting next to him shushed him, placing a finger on his lips.

            “Shhh,” she said. “Just admire me.  I know you think I’m pretty.  I saw you looking.”

            Gary, his eyes wide with fear, tried to respond but couldn’t think of anything.  He was still trying to figure out what was going on and kept coming up short.

            “It’s alright,” she continued. “There’s nothing wrong with admiring a pretty girl.  It’s perfectly natural.  I do have a question for you, though.  Don’t scream now.”

            And she dropped her vampiric disguise, mist falling away to reveal a woman with dark grey skin that stretched taut across her skull, wiry hair, red eyes, claws, and fangs in her mouth.  Gary gasped in horror, trying to back away even as his body disobeyed him.

            “Tell me,” she said, her voice distorted. “Do you still think I’m pretty?”

            Gary trembled, his mind racing as he tried to think of what he should say.  Nothing came to him.

            “No?” she asked, feigning innocence.  “That’s alright.  You will.”

            She leaned over, reaching an arm around his shoulder as her other hand gripped his arm.  Gary flinched as her long, prehensile tongue extended and flicked across his neck, locking stray drops of blood from the bite in his neck.  The cold, slimy texture of it sent goosebumps all up and down Gary’s skin.  He wanted to scream out loud, but the sound caught in his throat.