Deep in the Wilds of Suburbia
Many thanks to my lovely interim beta, Pepper9873 :)
Fandom: The Gates
Title: Deep in the Wilds of Suburbia
Pairings: Canon
Rating: Call it PG-13
Summery: What if the paranormals had no more clue about each other's presence in the Gates than the Monahans do? Devon gets into some bad Juju and Nick and Dylan team up to track down a rogue vampire.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. I'm just borrowing it, and when I'm done I'll put it back where I found it.
Chapter Thirty-One: Missed Call
"Dylan, I am telling you, it was Peg's charm."
"Claire, you were kicked through a window."
"And landed on a pile of cardboard boxes, without so much as a scrape from the glass! A faster, more efficient escape, I cannot imagine."
Dylan rolled his eyes and shifted the phone to the other ear. He wedged it between his head and his shoulder as he poured boiling water into the teapot.
"You were shot with an arrow."
"Yes, but I had dropped the dolphin then."
He made an impatient sound and cupped a hand over the mouthpiece.
"Emily," he called. "Turn the TV down!" In the living room, Emily did as she was told.
"You're not just letting her watch TV all day, are you?"
"Don't be silly, and don't change the subject," Dylan said, himself hastily turning the conversation away from the amount of television their daughter had been watching lately. "You won't find me buying into that nonsense."
"You're just jealous I've got my own law enforcement friend. She's federal, you know."
"Yes, well, mine's still active duty. Did she land on the boxes as well?"
"Yes, but I'd rather squashed them already. She had a harder landing. She said she managed to wing this Dorothy character, but I think she got the worst of the fight. Three arrows in the end. Honestly, who brings a bow and arrows to a fight?"
"Well, say what you will. It was effective. I'm surprised they didn't slash your tires." Dylan cleared his throat. "Do you think you'll be coming home soon? Emily misses you."
"Oh? Is she the only one?"
"No."
"Yes, I think I'll be coming home tonight."
"Why not sooner?"
"Because I'm hung over and feel like I was shot with an arrow and thrown out of a window. I'm going to bed as soon as I hang up." She paused. "There's also - I had a thought this morning. I need to sleep on it before I come home."
"What is it?"
"I'm not quite sure yet. I don't want to say anything now in case it's the exhaustion talking. I'll talk to you about it when I get home tonight."
They said their good byes and hung up. Dylan puttered around the kitchen in bathrobe and sweats, enjoying the lazy Sunday morning. He fixed his tea and settled down at the table to drink it over the morning paper. Ironically, he had resumed the habit only a few years ago, just when it started to become truly antiquated. He wondered what Christian thought about that - Christian who had harsh opinions on the availability of berries all year round and who still mourned the death of the house band, decades after its demise. Dylan caught himself smiling over a memory of Christian and stopped, banishing all thoughts of the man.
He turned his attention to an article about fuel prices and national defense. He snorted. Some things never changed. He took a sip of his tea and set the cup down, keeping his hand still wrapped around the mug - it had turned cold some time last night and his hands were chilled. At least the morning was overcast. Small blessings.
Most of the curtains in the house were still drawn and the house was pleasantly dim, though Dylan had applied sunscreen before coming downstairs. It had long ago become a habit, even on weekends. One curtain was slightly askew, the one he had peeked through to assess the weather. The window was on the West side of the house and faced the backyard. He glanced at it again, wondering if the weather would hold. There was nothing worse in his mind than a day both cold and sunny.
As he contemplated the forecast, a slight movement in the window caught his eye, like a shadow along the bottom edge of the glass. He frowned and stood to get a better view. Whatever it was moved again, and then was gone. Through the distant din of Emily's cartoons, he tried to hear if anything was moving outside, and thought he detected scraping on the concrete of the patio.
Emily jumped when her father appeared beside her and snapped up the remote. He clicked the TV off and put a finger to his lips to forestall her complaint. He glided back to the dining room, moving in a way she had never seen, placing each foot just so, and pausing every so often, like a cat on the hunt. When he reached the table, he froze and cocked his head for several long seconds, listening. There was a blur of movement that resolved into her father, once again beside her and gathering her up in his arms.
"Daddy?"
"Sh. You have to be very quiet."
With a few quick steps they were in the kitchen. Dylan grabbed his phone with his free hand and continued into the short hall that led to the garage door. A broom closet faced the utility room and he tried to drop Emily gently inside. The girl refused to cooperate, instead balling her hands into fists in his bathrobe and wrapping her legs tightly around his waist.
"Em," he whispered as he tried to pry her loose. "Em, you have to stay here. They won't hurt you if you stay perfectly quiet."
"No," she whimpered. "I don't want to stay here. It's dark, Daddy."
"You'll be safe. They only want me. Please, Em, let go." He crouched, disentangled her legs and started on her hands.
"What's going on? Where's Mom? I want Mom." Tears stood in her eyes when he finally stepped back, her little hands gripping his wrists.
"I'm going to call Mum as soon as I know you're safe."
"Who is it? Is someone trying to get in the house?"
"It's the other vampires, sweet. I've done something I shouldn't and they found out about it. They only want me, not you. You stay perfectly quiet like a good girl, no matter what you hear, understand?"
"But you didn't do anything." Emily gulped a sob.
"Yes, Em, I did. Will you stay quiet so they don't find you?"
Emily's breath became shallow and hiccuppy, but she nodded.
"Good girl. I'm going to call Mum."
Emily nodded again and sank onto the floor of the closet as he closed the door. She sat in the dark, afraid to move and breathing shallowly, trying to be silent just like her daddy said.
Dylan shoved all thoughts of Emily out of his mind. She was as safe as he could make her for now. No telling when they would break in, if they would simply overpower him and take him somewhere else, try to talk, or kill him right there in his kitchen. He hoped not the latter. Emily would find his body.
Contrary to what he told the girl, he thumbed in Nick's number first. Coming from Franklin, Claire would never arrive in time to help. Tension grew with each ring until when his call finally went to voicemail Dylan was ready to throw the phone across the room.
"… And I'll get back to you as soon as possible." Beep.
"Fine bloody time for you to leave your phone at home, Monahan," he hissed. "The others are skulking around outside my house - I can hear them - and it's all got to do with that Teresa woman. So help me, if you get me killed and don't even bother to pick up the fucking phone, I'll come back from the dead again and kill you myself. Bring backup; Emily's here."
He hit the red button, ending the call, and went back into the phone's speed dial. At the same time, he began rummaging through the kitchen drawers, wishing he knew where Claire kept the knives.
XXXXX
"Thanks for coming, guys."
Nick gestured at the kitchen table, where Sarah stood, hands clasped nervously on the back of one of the chairs. She smiled at Charlotte and Zach.
"Coffee?" she asked.
"Sarah, you're a life saver," Charlotte said. "I am rampantly uncaffeinated. I forgot to set my alarm last night - I never think about it on a Saturday - so I slept in. I only woke up when Zach rang the doorbell."
The women's beta shrugged out of her coat and laid it over Nick's outstretched arm. Zach did the same. The men shook hands as soon as the coats were out of the way.
"I'm glad you called," Zach murmured under Charlotte's chatter. "Karen and I figured a meeting like this was coming, but the pack can be overly cautious. You saved us some political wrangling to be the first to make a move."
"Always happy to cut through bullshit."
Zach chuckled and everyone took seats around the table while Sarah poured coffee. Nick fixed his the way he liked it and sat back in his chair with one arm resting on the table.
"So, first of all," he began, "I want you guys to know that you've got -" Nick's phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID - Dylan - and hit a button to silence the ring. He would call the vampire back later. "Sorry about that. As I was saying, you've got nothing to fear from myself or any of my officers. I'm beginning to understand that Frank set the Gates up to be a kind of sanctuary for, um, unusual people."
Zach's mountainous shoulder lifted and dropped like a landslide. "I don't know what he set it up for, but that's how we use it." He frowned. "I'm a little surprised he didn't tell you about us."
"Really? I'm not." Nick chuckled. "I'm not sure I'd have taken the job. Of course, now that I have, I want to know what it is I'm dealing with here. Several people have turned up dead or missing just in the months since I've been here, and that's not even counting the mass robbery a few weeks back."
"Tell me about it," Zach said with a smile. "Asshole took my Xbox. I still haven't gotten it back."
Nick winced. "Yeah, we think he pawned some of the electronics in Franklin. We haven't been able to track it all down."
The landslide was philosophical this time.
"Anyway," Nick continued, "Werewolves aside, I want to get a handle on things here just to keep the peace, if that's even possible. I want to ask for your help."
Charlotte cocked her head. "In what capacity?" she asked.
"For starters, information. Frank's been reluctant to say anything and…" He thought of Dylan. "Well, I don't really have any good sources for information. People play it close to the vest around here, I've noticed."
"You can't blame them," Charlotte said. "Considering the last chief of police, well." She sipped her coffee, set the cup down and leaned forward conspiratorially. "Did you know Debbie Nguyen told me that her neighbor's son actually sold him pot? It's true!" As no one had indicated any skepticism, Nick supposed that was Charlotte's usual way to end a neighborhood anecdote.
"So," Nick said before Charlotte could say anything more. He pulled a green notebook and pen from his shirt pocket. "Do you know anything about who or what might be living here that you'd be willing to share with me? For instance, what do you know about Devon Buckley?"
Charlotte's face brightened and she took a deep breath to speak. Zach cut her off before she could start.
"Not much in the way you mean," he said. Charlotte rolled her eyes. "She smells odd to us, so we avoid her. We think she knows about us, but we don't know how she knows."
"That and Karen thinks she hits on Brett," Charlotte added. Zach made a noise of displeasure. "Well she does! I've seen it."
"Devon's not that bad," Sarah said, speaking up for the first time. The werewolves seemed startled, as if they had forgotten she was there.
Charlotte hmm -ed and feigned interest in her coffee cup.
"We don't trust her," Zach summarized. "She's had conflicts with any number of people, and always seems to come out on top of them. As a result, people either avoid her or flock to her, hoping to keep on her good side."
Nick remembered her effect on the pool party and nodded as he jotted down a few notes. Sarah frowned.
"I don't think you're being fair to her," she said. Charlotte looked at her, her brow beetling in thought.
"You should know she was involved with Chief Phelps," Zach said, ignoring Sarah.
"How, 'involved'?" Nick asked.
"They were sleeping together. She was also sleeping with one of his officers."
"How do you know that?"
Zach grinned and tapped the side of his nose.
"You could… smell it?"
"Yep. She only started sleeping with them about a week before Phelps retired." Zach made air quotes as he spoke the last word.
"You think that's significant?"
"Phelps was sleeping with three or four women at the time," Charlotte supplied. "I knew a couple of them. One time, I was having lunch with Lu-er, one of the women, when Phelps came up to say hi to her. I knew they were sleeping together, but her reaction was strange. She smiled and acted normal enough, but I smelled adrenaline, like she was scared of him and wanted to run." She tipped her head thoughtfully. "Or angry and wanting to fight. Could go either way."
"So she was sleeping with a guy she was afraid of," Nick mused. "Someone who was known to regularly blackmail the residents here for money."
"We're not entirely familiar with your…" Charlotte hesitated, searching for the right words. "Sexual mores. Would it be too far fetched to think he was extorting sex from her?"
"No, it wouldn't." Nick nodded slowly and wrote a few lines in the notebook. Distasteful as it was, it fit with what he knew of the man so far. "Do you think Devon was one of his victims?" he asked.
"I wouldn't call Devon anyone's victim," Zach answered. "But if he did try to blackmail her, it would be pretty convenient for her that her other lover took him out."
"That's how things go with Devon," Charlotte said. "She always comes out on top."
"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Sarah exclaimed. "Devon should be able to sleep with who she wants without people accusing her of - of murder! Especially the murder of someone who sounds like he had it coming."
"Love-"
"I never said she killed anyone," Charlotte said with wide eyes, the picture of innocence. "I'm only pointing out that it was awfully convenient, that she didn't end up dead or in jail, and that for someone who lost two mates, she didn't seem to broken up by it." Charlotte sniffed. "But then, your people are a little loose in that way."
Nick glanced back and forth between the two women. Charlotte would not meet Sarah's furious eyes. Zach inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring. He spoke after a tense moment.
"I've noticed the same smell on Peg as on Devon," he said. "It's like a forest floor."
"But under the leaves," Charlotte elaborated. "A little like rot and earthworms."
"I noticed it was especially strong yesterday at the party, but-" he glanced at Sarah and did not complete the sentence. "You should know we think there might be a vampire here."
Nick gave a rueful chuckle. "Yeah, I know all about the vampires."
The werewolves' heads snapped around to stare at Nick.
"Vampires?" Charlotte squeaked. "As in plural? More than one?"
"Well-"
"Oh, my God! We have to tell Simon!"
"Charlotte…" Zach's tone was a warning.
"Simon?" Nick asked. "Is this the same Simon from Wednesday night?"
Zach glared at Charlotte, who sipped her coffee sheepishly.
"Look," Nick said, waving away his question about Simon. "I'm a little disturbed by the vampires myself, but I think they're here for the same reasons you are: security. It's not in their interest to start killing people in the Gates."
"What about the murders in Franklin?" Charlotte asked. "And what about Claire?"
"There was a vampire in Franklin," Nick confirmed. "But he wasn't from the Gates and he's no longer a threat."
"Is he dead?" Zach asked.
Nick hesitated, but finally nodded.
"But Claire!" Charlotte insisted.
"Claire Radcliff?" Nick asked, wondering if the vampire had been up to something he was unaware of. "What about her?"
"No one's seen her in days," Zach said. "We think Dylan might be a vampire and might have hurt her."
Sarah made a disgusted noise and left the table. Nick spread his hands out, silently pleading with her to stay, but she ignored him and disappeared around the corner.
"Okay," Nick said. "Dylan did not kill his wife. I was asked to keep this confidential, but since you apparently already know, there's not much point. Dylan and Claire are both vampires. I trust Dylan…" Nick tipped his head back and forth, "Mostly. He saved my life when he didn't have to, and helped take care of the vampire in Franklin."
"He turned Claire?" Zach asked, scowling. The expression was ferocious on the boulder-sized man. "Doesn't it bother you that he's turning his family when there's a kid in the house?"
"Wait a second. I don't know who turned who, but as far as I can tell, they've both been vampires for a long time, longer than Emily's been around."
Zach's scowl smoothed out in confusion and both werewolves blinked stupidly at Nick.
"You mean…" Charlotte ventured, "They've been vampires the whole time they've been here?"
"Far as I know, yeah."
"And Claire's alive?"
"Dylan doesn't talk much about his private life, but from what I can gather, she's gone to Franklin." He hesitated before continuing, knowing Charlotte's gossipy tendencies. "I think they had some kind of fight. No big deal. Happens to couples all the time."
"But are you sure she's alive?" Charlotte asked.
"She called here this morning to talk to Sarah."
The werewolves gaped at him and then at each other. Charlotte stood and reached into her pocket.
"I need to make a call," she said.
"Me too," Zach murmured and they both exited the house through the kitchen door.
A cold lump formed in Nick's guts and he pulled out his phone. One missed call; One new voicemail. Feeling a little ill, he thumbed up his voicemail box.