Thicker than Blood

2. Geordi

CHAPTER 2

Geordi

M y skin is still tingling. It takes several minutes for my racing pulse to slow too. I met Elias Caswell. The ultimate vampire. No one knows exactly how old he is, but he’s really, really old. He’s everything I imagined him to be too, given all I’ve ever seen are written accounts of his antics.

I assumed his appearance in texts were always exaggerated for effect, but nope, he’s everything people over the centuries have said he is. Tall, fit, elegant. His accented voice is unique too, a blended influence of all the places and cultures he’s been exposed to. But his face. There are no words to accurately capture a face like that, but if I were a poet or an artist, I would have infinite inspiration.

Scientifically, we know that vampirism perfects the human body, removing scars and imperfections, healing ailments, strengthening the form. It can take an average looking person and make them model worthy, so based on that, Elias must have already been a looker before his change.

I know from my studies that he’s French and English, and I assumed he would look like a handsome modern man who hails from those regions, but I was wrong. Sure, there’ve been plenty of drawings of him over the years, but he’s managed to avoid being caught on camera or video, though our research has debunked the no reflection myth. Still, drawings can’t capture reality.

His shoulder-length brown tresses brush his shoulders in a way that manages to look both historical and trendy, his jaw square and sharp. It’s his eyes though. Only a poet could describe their true depth and beauty, so clear and blue they seemed to light up the night around him.

I’m fully aware of what he can do with those eyes too if he wants to. He could compel me to follow his every whim, to offer my neck and my body with the false perception of consent. Another shiver slides down my back and I have to choke back a sound.

Luci, Bernard, and Mere have been discussing the night’s events, and I can vaguely hear them, but I’m mostly stuck on the fact that Elias has my phone number and he just might use it. Being attracted to him is wrong on so many levels. First off, it’s against the treaty rules. Not because the powers that be hate love, but because we all know about the persuasiveness of vampires. Add to that the rumors about how possessive and violent a lovelorn vampire can be when the object of their desire is threatened, and well, you have a potentially explosive situation.

So yeah, no fucking the vamps. I remind myself of what my therapist suggested—I’m not attracted, I’m obsessed, and those are different motivations. Right. I nod, mentally checking myself. Obsessions aside, I do have my own motivation to work with the vampire, but it’s gotta be a secret.

“Did you hear me, Geordi?”

I turn to Meredith and stare. “No.”

“You’re still thinking about Elias, right?”

I nod. “Yeah. He never interacts with mortals. Kind of a big deal.”

Bernard scoffs. “Be careful, kid. He’s not trustworthy.”

“I know, and I’m not a kid. I’m thirty-four and I have ten years of vampiric research under my belt, four of which were practical, hands-on lab work. I’m well aware of their nature.”

“How do you have ten years?” he asks. “We didn’t know they existed until five years ago.”

“Let’s just say I had my suspicions.”

Meredith smiles, patting my back. “Geordi knows what he’s doing. All I was saying is to let me know if and when Elias has an update.”

“Of course.” I glance around at the empty square. “I guess the warning scared everyone off. Not even the media is here.”

“No one has forgotten the war,” Luci says. “How could we?”

Meredith gives me a sympathetic look. Yeah, how could we?

“I’m gonna collect some samples.” I brush past the lingering sadness mention of the war always brings.

“It can wait,” Meredith says. “The Collectors will be here soon and we’re going to bring all the bodies back to the facility.”

“Just one or two. I won’t be able to sleep now, so I might as well get started.”

She nods. “Very well.”

I hurry back into the park to gather blood and tissue. I’ll be looking for disease or antibodies that differ from our baseline samples. We’ve identified the exact gene mutation that causes the vampirism but not yet when it shows up. We’re fairly sure it’s not present immediately following being turned, but develops over time as the vampire’s blood takes over the body. None of these people were turned, but the blood is fresh and will give me new samples of attack victims for later comparison.

Cringing a little, I focus on the task and not on the familiar faces I see around town. Greg from the butcher shop, Sue Lin from the bakery, and I think the man in the green jacket is Henry from the post office. Innocent people who were just living their lives. At least they didn’t attack any kids.

I shove the specimen slides into plastic bags and tuck them inside my camera bag. I always keep a few sample collection bags handy just in case. Three vans arrive just as I’m walking back to Brenda to go to the lab. The Collectors, a group of volunteers, will gather the bodies into bags and transport them to the lab.

Back in my car, I drive to work, my focus torn between navigating the snowy roads and the events of the evening. It doesn’t take long for visions of the war to return. Not a single night goes by that I don’t relive the worst moments of it. All because a group of teens with smartphones captured a vampire attack in the park and posted it on social media.

Our eyes were opened to the existence of the supernatural world, but my beliefs were just confirmed. My fascination with the world beyond the veil was a constant subject of torment for me. From my parents to the teachers to my classmates, everyone thought I was weird and let me know it.

I didn’t have time to feel vindicated though in the face of hundreds, maybe thousands of vampires around the world stepping out of the shadows and revealing themselves. I was stunned to learn there were so many right here in Paloma Park. People I interacted with every day at the grocery store, the shopping centers, the businesses I frequented. Vampires in Wisconsin. Go figure.

It didn’t take an advanced degree to realize life as we knew it would never be the same, but I never anticipated the massive impact it would have on my own. I shake my head to keep the thoughts at bay. I have work to do, and I don’t have time to wallow in memories of things I can’t do anything about.

Pulling into the parking lot of the research center, I dip my head to look out at the five-story building, checking for any signs of danger. If I were a pissed off vampire, this is one of the first places I’d come. At least, that’s my thought. It’s because of the research we do that we’ve created so many of the rules that keep the peace between the two groups.

Finding the snow undisturbed and nothing but silence, I carefully exit the car. Not to say that a vampire couldn’t be stealthy. That’s kind of their schtick. I reach into the car and grab my camera bag, then walk briskly to the front door, where I use my keycard to buzz myself in.

Carina and Paul, the two night guards during the week, are at their posts as always, one at the front door and one near the back. Both are looking down at their phones, following the attack, I assume.

Carina looks up first, flinching at my presence. “Geordi.” She blows out a breath. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry to startle you. I was purposely being quiet. Any activity here?”

She shakes her head. “No. Do you think they might come?”

“No idea, but you know the protocol if they do. Head for the safe room.”

She nods, her face revealing the fear she’s feeling. I wish I could reassure her, but I’m just as worried.

I wave to Paul before pushing the elevator button for the third floor where my workspace is, anxious to get the samples under the microscope. Maybe I’ll find a clue that can help us. We were unprepared the first time, but we have a lot more information on our side now.

I can only hope it makes a difference.