The Becoming

Chapter Twenty-Five

When I get to the condo, I ring the bell, hoping irrationally that David will be there to answer the door. I won't even mind the tongue-lashing he's sure to give me for not showing up last night.

But I know deep down he won't be there and, of course, he isn't.

After a moment, I use his own keys to let myself in, amazed that I thought to grab them before leaving yesterday considering the shape I was in.

Everything is exactly as I remember it.

I make a sweep of the entire condo, a thorough sweep this time, before coming back to the dining room. The blood on the corner of the table has dried to black flakes. Thankfully, there isn't a lot of it. Of course, if David was captured by a vampire, there wouldn't be. I push that thought out of my head.

After I've stared at the blood for ten minutes and no useful idea how I might proceed presents itself, I dial Chief Williams. He answers himself, surprising me into speechlessness for a moment until I remember that Avery said this was a private line.

"Chief Williams, this is Anna Strong."

A deep-timbred voice comes back across the line. “Dr. Avery said you might call. Nothing from your friend?"

"No. And I'm really worried. Do you suppose you could send someone to meet me at his condo? I need a professional cop's opinion. I'm out of my depth here."

"I can be there in ten minutes. What's the address?"

I give him the address, unit number and tell him I'll buzz him in. He hangs up and I stare at the phone for a moment. He's coming himself? Not a good sign, I'm sure.

When Williams arrives, he's alone and in civilian clothes. Another surprise. He shakes my hand and explains, this is my day off.

He follows me inside, and his gray-green eyes scan the interior. It's lightning fast but I get the impression he's not missing much. His mind is closed, allowing me the freedom to size him up at close range, something I didn't do at the party. He's tall, over 6', but not as tall as David. He's much leaner, too, a vampire trait, I've discovered. Must be the liquid protein diet. He's wearing jeans and a polo shirt topped by a leather bomber jacket, worn Nike sports shoes on his feet. His hair is dark, but flecked with gray. I wonder if that's an affectation. I don't know how old he is, but I would imagine a police chief would be at least in his fifties. Williams's face is unlined for the most part. Can't do anything about that if you're a vampire, but the hair can “age."

He turns those sharp eyes on me. He lifts a hand and runs it through his hair. Does it look natural? It's a bitch trying to convince a hair stylist that you want gray in your hair when the majority of their clientele is devoted to taking it out.

Very natural. I wave a hand. What do you think?

Williams walks out on the balcony before responding. Nice view.

Nice view? I follow him onto the deck. Chief Williams, my friend is missing. I'm very concerned about him. I need your opinion about what to do. Should I file a missing person's report? Should I start contacting his friends and family? I'm at my wit's end here. I really need your help.

Williams takes a cigar case from the inside pocket of his jacket, takes his time extracting a fat cigar, and rolls it between his fingers before finally bringing it to his lips. He bites off the tip and spits it over the balcony. Then he breaks out a lighter and puffs away until the glowing tip catches.

During all this, I'm shifting from one foot to the other, swallowing back my impatience and fighting down a wave of anger. When he's finally completed the cigar ritual, he raises indifferent eyes to mine.

David is a mortal.

He sounds suspiciously like Avery. And what's your point?

We don't get involved in mortal affairs. Not when it involves the possibility that our identities could be revealed in the course of an investigation.

Our identities? Just whose identity are you worried about?

He makes himself comfortable on a deck chair and leans back, the hand with the cigar resting on the arm. He acts like this is a social visit.

Not at all, he replies. I know how serious this is to you. I just don't know what I can do to help.

Well, let me tell you. You can act like a cop. You can help me file a report, put out an APB on David, act like you give a damn that my best friend and partner is missing. Those things would be a good start.

Williams's eyes turn hard. My getting involved would be a mistake.

Why?

Because it's very possible your friend was taken in retaliation for your escaping the Revengers the other night. If that's the case, opening an investigation won't help. It will only call attention to the fact that you have influence in the police department. Not a good thing.

I stare at him a moment. But it was a cop who stopped me. One of yours.

Not one of mine, I assure you.

Williams climbs to his feet, flicks ash over the balcony railing, and turns to me. Not a city cop. The Revengers are state patrolmen.

He's right—a distinction I hadn't made until now.

Believe me, William's continues, I do my best to discover their identities and weed them out.

Weed them out? There's no mistaking what he's saying . How do you manage that?

He shrugs. Accident, hot call goes bad. Fortunately, we haven't had to deal with it much lately. Donaldson's activity is what triggered this new rash of vampire hunting. It would have helped if you'd gotten a badge or car number.

Well, forgive me for not thinking too clearly. I'd only been a vampire for a day or two, I wasn't expecting to be kidnapped. And if what you say is true, and the Revenger's took David, why haven't they contacted me? What would they want?

Their intention may simply be to persuade you to move on. It's not often they stumble on a vampire with close friends or family members to use as leverage. Most vampires are too old to have living relatives. In your case, though, there's David, your parents. I think Avery mentioned a boyfriend, too.

At that, what little patience I have left melts like ice cream under the heat of mounting hostility towards Chief Williams. “Are you saying they'll go after my parents next? Or my boyfriend? And there's nothing you can do about it?"

Williams holds up a hand. “What I'm saying is that there may not be anything I can do about it. You got the better of them, not something that happens very often. But look what's happened since. You've lost your home, your partner is missing. It's very possible if you leave San Diego, relocate somewhere else, David might be released."

" Might be released. You don't know that for sure."

He puffs calmly on the cigar, ignoring the rising tide of my anger. No. I don't know anything for sure, including if they even have David. But what alternative do you have? I know this isn't easy, but sometimes the best thing a vampire can do is move on. We've all had to do it. Word will get around that Donaldson is gone and things will quiet down. It's even possible that you might be able to return to San Diego in a year or two.

And what do I tell my parents in the meantime?

Tell them the truth. Your home has been destroyed. What do you really have to tie you here? I understand from Dr. Avery that relations between you and your family are strained.

How does he know that? Then I remember. Avery was probably reading my thoughts at the hospital from the moment I came in.

But that doesn't explain why he would share them with Williams.

Williams shrugs. He thought I should know. It might help me to persuade you to do the right thing.

And that's to leave San Diego.

For the time being. Let things cool down.

And this is really what Avery wants?

At that, Williams turns away from me, shielding his eyes and his thoughts from my scrutiny. Finally, he says softly, “Avery has developed a soft spot for you. He isn't thinking too clearly right now. He needs a cooler head to prevail, which is why he had you contact me. He knew I could be impersonal about this situation where he cannot."

"So, he doesn't want me to leave?"

Williams doesn't answer.

It rankles, but I don't see that I have any option except to go along with him, at least for now. “Do you have any way to get a message to the Revengers?"

Williams looks at me, eyebrow raised. “Why?"

"Because I'm willing to do as you request, but only after David is released unharmed."

His eyes narrow. “Do you mean that?"

"Does that mean you can get a message to them?"

"If I answer that, in a court of law, it would be an admission that I know who they are. I'm not saying that I do."

Spoken like a damned lawyer. I snap, “How badly do you want me gone?"

Williams shifts away from the balcony, crossing into the living room. At the door, he pauses. He doesn't look around, but his voice floats back across the quiet room. “I'll see what I can do. I'll call you at Avery's tonight."

I wait until the door is closed behind him to let my mind open. I don't trust him. And my instincts tell me that as crazy as it sounds, he not only knows about the Revengers, he may very well be one of them. Which makes me wonder why Avery trusts him so much.

If he does.

But Avery is the one who suggested I contact Chief Williams.

My stomach churns with impatience. It doesn't make sense. Why would Avery do that? He doesn't act like he wants me gone, either, which is what Williams implied. And if the Revengers have David, why not just contact me and offer to make the switch—

my life for David's?

What in hell is going on?