Title: Bound by Blood
Prompt:
writerverse challenge #12 quick fic #7 (‘on the front page’ & ‘blood is thicker than water’)
Bonus: horror (but still not that scary)
Word Count: 1,299
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: original (
Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Warnings: not-very graphic violence
Summary: Zeke and Howell are called to a bloody murder scene- which gets a whole lot worse.
Note(s): originally posted to the
writerverse wv_library Bound by Blood
I had been one of those weird kids that read the newspaper, and it was a habit I’d never gotten out of. Sure, I could have gotten the news from Google, a lot faster and more up-to-date, but there’s something about rifling through a real paper newspaper over a cup of coffee and toast with blood jelly to get a vampire’s day off right, especially when it started at five in the afternoon.
I skipped the front page- I knew this story better than the reporters, the series of gruesome unsolved murders sweeping the city. It wasn’t a case that Howell and I were assigned, but the whole precinct knew the details, or lack thereof. If I’d still been human, a killer like this would have scared the hell out of me.
Of course, I didn’t have too long to dwell. No sooner had I unfurled my paper than the apartment intercom buzzed. Thinking it was Mrs. Newcombe in number fourteen who’d locked herself out again, I tipped my chair back to hit the button, still holding my toast.
“Yes?”
“Rookie, get your ass down here,” snarled my partner’s voice.
Officer Howell had a while range of snarls, and I considered myself something of an expert on the subject. This particular snarl a crime had occurred, a nasty one- Howell took all crimes as a personal insult.
I downed my coffee, the slurped the jelly off my toast and tossed it to the birds on the fire escape. I stuck the brim of my cap into my mouth and pulled on my jacket as I thundered down the stairs.
Howell was waiting in our patrol car. He didn’t even mention my rumpled uniform, and I knew it was bad. But knowing that didn’t help one bit when we arrived at the crime scene.
There was blood everywhere. As a vampire, I usually enjoyed the metallic-sweet tang, but this much made even my stomach turn. A detective, older than me and wearing a worn trench coat, put a hand to his mouth and left quickly.
“Report,” barked Howell, to the remaining officers.
“We’ve secured the perimeter, sir,” said a uniformed cop, probably only just senior enough to have his own patrol. “But we haven’t been… I mean, nobody’s entered past the lobby, sir.”
Howell glanced at doors leading out of the marble lobby, then nodded. “Understood. We’ll take it from here.”
The officer nodded and beat a hasty retreat. Alone, Howell and I stared at the heavy wooden doors. Once, this had been a fine old house, but it hadn’t been maintained in years. Blood spattered on the faded wallpaper, mixed with thick dust and dripped slowly onto the threadbare Persian rug.
“Hezekia,” said Howell, softly. “You don’t have to be here.”
I put a hand to my gun. “Like I’m leaving you now, sir.”
He flashed me a toothy grin and drew his own weapon. “Open the door, Officer Jones.”
I took a deep breath, grabbed the ornate handle, and pulled. The door swung open almost effortlessly and we stepped inside.
The parlor was untouched, not a dustbunny out of place, and at its center stood a single man. For a moment, I thought he looked quite ordinary, but I must have been mistaken, because when I looked again, he was the most captivating man I’d ever seen. He cut a dashing figure in his crisp suit, even with the drying bloodstains on his cuffs and knees, and he seemed to… glow, soft and inviting.
“Ah,” said the man. “What an unexpected pleasure.”
Our eyes locked, and I felt as if I’d been hit with a jolt of electricity.
“Hezekia, get out of here!” yelled Howell. It sounded as though he was speaking from miles away, though I knew he was still right beside me.
But I couldn’t move. Every muscle seemed frozen, even as I felt suddenly overheated. The man smiled, a dazzling beautiful smile showing pointed canines- and lunged. He hit Howell, fingernails flashing into razor-sharp claws, and they tumbled to the floor.
Vampires can’t turn werewolves, of course, but our teeth and claws can do serious damage to other semi-undead beings. Howell snarled, a human sound- and I remembered suddenly that it was a new moon, and he wouldn’t be able to transform.
The vampire hooked clawed fingers around Howell’s throat, pinning him to the wall and squeezing hard. I realized how old and powerful this vampire must be, to hold down as fierce a werewolf as my partner, not even flinching when Howell’s wild blows found their mark.
“Hezekia,” Howell gasped, voice hoarse and his blue eyes pale as the full moon. “Go.”
And, suddenly, I could move again. But I didn’t run. I forgot my gun, forgot my own vampire teeth and claws, forgot everything except my partner and the monster attacking him. I saw a broken chair leg on the floor and snatched it up, the wood warm and tingling in my hand.
“Hey!” I shouted. My voice cracked, but it was enough to make the other vampire look up. Again, I was struck by entrancing he was, and I paused. Then I heard Howell let out a noise that could only be called a whimper and I snapped out of it. Before the other vampire could move away, I raised my table leg and drove it straight through his heart.
“You,” he gasped, gazing at me with wide eyes. “You…”
Now, I could see just how fragile he looked, his hair white and wispy, his suit creased and dotted with old bloodstains.
“You…” he hissed again, and crumpled to the floor, dead.
I stood, just staring, for a long moment before my head cleared again.
“Sir!” I cried. Howell sat a few feet away, slumped against the wall, and I ran to kneel beside him. “Sir! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened. I couldn’t move! But then you- and he- and I had to-”
“Zeke,” he interrupted with more affection than I’d ever heard from him. “You really have no idea what you’ve just done, do you?”
I frowned. “I saved your life, that’s what. And almost not even that.”
He was bleeding from half a dozen shallow cuts and I fumbled for a handkerchief to press against the worst of them. He put a large hand over mine, stopping me.
“Zeke,” said Howell, again. “No ordinary vampire could have made you freeze like that. Only the vampire who turned you could have done that.”
“What?” I gasped.
“The old technique, the one he must have used on you, binds a new vampire to her creator. That’s how they gained such power in the old days, by turning followers who, if they wouldn’t actively fight for the cause of the original vampire, would at least be unable to turn on him. But you… you did. Hezekia, you did.”
I blinked, my mind slow to catch up. “He was going to kill you,” I murmured. “I couldn’t let him.”
I looked at the body of the dead vampire again. The Council of Vampires had trouble tracking those who went rogue, and had no way of knowing which had attacked me. I’d always gotten the feeling that they’d accepted me only reluctantly, only because my turning had been successful and they couldn’t be seen to purposefully ignore one of their own kind.
The truth was, Howell was more my family than any vampire I’d ever met.
Howell leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I have done nothing so wise as choosing you for my partner, Hezekia Jones,” he said.
My throat was too tight to speak, so I just leaned forward to hug him.
And, moments later, that was how the SWAT team found us.
THE END
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