little, hissing at the spike of pain.
In the adjoining bedroom, she found one dead female vampire and a well-stocked closet. At this point, she was more interested in the latter, and she picked out a few pieces that fit her decently; a button-down shirt and a baggy pair of pants that gave her plenty of room to move.
The full inspection of the nest revealed twenty-six dead vampires—none of them the one she was looking for—and all the supplies necessary to make it like she was never there. It would have been far easier to burn the place, but arson drew a lot more attention than she wanted. Better to let the cops discover the bodies, long after she was gone. Tanya kept spare supplies in the car to make sure, but it was usually better to use what was on-site. Bleach for the gravel in the alley, foaming drain cleaner for the shower, and a sealable plastic bag for her discarded clothes. Later she would burn them, but she would find somewhere across town to do that. She cleaned up after herself, put the bottles back in their places, and grabbed another couple towels.
Lastly, she went to what she assumed was Etienne’s room, since it was the nicest, and looked for her keepsake. It had to be something special, something that made her think of him. Vampires liked to keep little trinkets from their own time periods, and she usually tried to find one of them. At last, she found it. Hung on the bedpost by its chain, it was a silver filigree pendant, spherical and about the size of a ping-pong ball. She had no idea why a guy would have such a flashy necklace, but it was pretty and smelled faintly of some kind of perfume. On closer inspection, she realized it opened like a locket. Shrugging, she stuffed it deep into the pocket of her purloined slacks and headed back out to the car.
Digging her phone out of her bag, she texted the address to a number she had memorized, and then deleted it. Tanya knew the message could still be retrieved, but it was a disposable phone anyway. As she started the car and pulled out of the alley, she breathed a sigh of relief--as deep as her aching side would allow. She had succeeded again, and if she hadn’t found her attacker yet, at least she had another name to pursue. Life is good.
From atop the building, a man watched the car pull away and slowly grinned.
"Magnificent," he murmured, and turned to leave. He had been preparing for this for a very long time, and soon, very soon, the wait would finally be over....
Three
Detective Tom Bradley glanced down at his phone and opened the text message. It was an address in St. Louis, nothing more, from a number he didn't recognize. With a slight smile, he turned to his desk and excavated the mouse and keyboard from a pile of paperwork, fast food bags, and used napkins. He jiggled the mouse to wake up the computer, pulled up the records database, and started looking.
Sure enough, there was a string of disappearances and drug busts surrounding the area. Nothing reported in the last twenty-four hours, though, so he would have to keep his eyes and ears open. Still, it was enough to know that Tanya had managed to bring down another nest, and had made it out alive. He worried about her sometimes. Glancing over at the photo of his daughter, he picked it up. Lexie had been about the same age as Tanya when she disappeared, he realized. So young.
But Tanya was tough, and she certainly made his job easier. There had been no new suspected nests in the last six months. Maybe the message had finally gotten out: St. Louis was not a friendly place for vampires.
There was a knock at the door and his partner, Jessica Davis, poked her head in the tiny office. "You busy?"
"Nah, just doing some research." He quickly closed the search he'd been doing.
"This isn't more of your crazy conspiracy theories, is it?" she asked, exasperated.
"Leave it, Davis," Tom growled. He wasn't having this argument again.
She shrugged, defeated. Davis didn’t really like to talk about it either, he knew. "All right. We’ve got a case down on South Broadway."
Bradley squashed his excitement before it could show. It was too soon for it to be Tanya's work. Still, it was the waiting that killed him. "Let's go," he said, and reached for his jacket.
"Yes, Daddy, I'm fine." Tanya sighed into her cell phone. "It's just a cracked rib, they said it would only take a couple weeks to heal." She rolled her eyes, looking up at the roof of her own car.
She had filled the gas tank of the stolen one and returned it to the exact same spot in the parking garage she’d taken it from. The whole process had only taken four hours, and the owner would probably never even know it was gone.
The hospital had been worse. They had taken one look at her too-big clothes and the bruise and tried to pump her for information. The fact that she had no ID to match the fake name she gave and paid in cash didn't help, either. But after a long argument, she had managed to get away with nothing more than a pamphlet on how to get help for domestic abuse. She was used to the routine.
"Well, you know I worry. What you're doing is really dangerous." Her dad's voice was full of concern and love. As irritating as he was being, she felt better just to hear it.
"I know." She sighed again.
"When do you think you'll be able to visit again?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
It made Tanya smile. "A week? Maybe two. Depends on how long it takes to get reported. Longer means I did a good job."
"That's right." Her father had been the one to point it out in the first place. "Mom was asking, that's all."
"How's she doing?"
"Oh, she's alright." She could hear her father’s weary smile. "They've got her doing overtime at the hospital again. I keep telling her that if she just told them no, they'd hire more people to help her out, but you know how she is."
She did. Her mother was somehow simultaneously a doormat and a martyr, not a good combination. "Give her kisses, okay? Tell her I'll stop by when I get this next story done."
"Will do. Do you need me to wire some money?" he asked.
Tanya bit down on her irritation—he knew she hated it when he offered to help. "Nope. Turns out drug dealers carry a lot of cash!" She grinned because for once her excuse was true.
"That's my girl," he chuckled.
Tanya was lying on her hotel bed and scrolling through the internet on her new iPhone (purchased with funds courtesy of Jimmy the drug dealer) when she got the text she was waiting for.
She knew the number, so she jumped up and grabbed her jacket and purse, cramming the iPhone inside her packed bag next to the bed. Check out time. A short drive later, Tanya fished out her camera and approached the same warehouse, but this time she went for the front door. It had the usual yellow tape stretched out in front, and they had even gone so far as to post a guard at the door. Looks like the St. Louis Police Department has rookies to spare. She chuckled as she ducked under the tape.
She gave him an innocent smile, the one that usually got boys to smile back. He didn't. Okay… obviously this one’s a hardcore motard. Time to switch gears. "Hello sir, I'm a member of the press and I'd like to ask some questions about this investigation." She flashed him her press badge, but he looked unimpressed.
"No one is allowed inside the restricted area," he parroted.
"I
