and didn’t like confrontation with dissidents, so they replaced him. Eric is just another fool in what’s sure to be a long line of them. He doesn’t know what’s going on at the Institute right under his nose.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’ve met him. He’s a self-righteous asshole. He believes in what the normals running the Institute want the place to stand for. The Institute’s governing board keeps the PR machine rolling so they can continue blinding the public. Eric’s their pawn. There’s a legend he threw a huge party for the Institute’s supporters the day Alan Jenkins died. Probably untrue. Or I like to believe it is, since I didn’t get an invite.”
She recalled what Cindy had told her that morning in her apartment. “Alan Jenkins. That’s the guy who ran the SNC?”
“Yes, before his son Aaron took over and we hammered out our treaty. Not that the treaty makes us best friends. But I force myself to tolerate him.” He walked over to the sofas. “I want to see this press conference.”
“We need to get my brother out of the Institute,” she reminded him.
“Give me time.”
“I don’t have time. My brother doesn’t have time.”
“And I don’t have a magic wand.” Sam stood between the sofas, in front of the TV. “We’re going to order some food and sit down and watch this press conference. You want a beer? You sound like you could use a beer.”
“Fuck beer. Give me some wine.”
“Wine?” Sam raised both eyebrows, then narrowed his eyes. “Red or white?” He clearly believed he was dealing with an amateur.
“I’m sure a fancy hole like this has a Paul Hobbs Cabernet Sauvignon. That’s red.”
While Sam called room service, June gently shook Micha awake. She didn’t want him to starve.
Micha opened his eyes and it seemed for a moment he didn’t recognize her. Then he shifted and winced.
“Hey.” His voice was gravelly. “How long have I been asleep?” He sat up on one elbow, looking around.
“Not long.” She sat down on the edge of the sofa and touched his knee. “You all right?”
He rubbed the side of his head. “A little disoriented.” He slipped his hand down his neck, squinting at the TV. “I feel weird, like I might be coming down with something.”
“Disoriented could be my fault, but my power doesn’t make people sick. I think you probably just need to eat.”
The food arrived, as well as the wine.
“Do you know how much that stuff costs?” Sam asked.
“Yes, I do.” June swirled the wine in her glass and took a sip. Full bodied. Well-balanced. “Don’t assume shit about me.”
June wasn’t interested in the press conference, but clearly couldn’t escape. Micha sat next to her on the sofa, nibbling on a piece of bread. Sam sat on the opposite sofa. On the screen, Eric Greerson appeared as a thin, narrow-shouldered man with silver hair and a solemn face. He stood at a podium, surrounded by several official-looking people.
“As you all know,” he said, “today we laid to rest one of the finest researchers the Institute for Supernatural Research has ever known, our head vampire researcher, Rose Bellevue. Her death was the result of a brutal murder, the perpetrators of which are still to be found. The police are working in close contact with us. We are also attempting to find her husband, the well-known paranormal activist Micha Bellevue, who, in conjunction with her death, has gone missing.”
June was cringing for Micha, but Micha just stared blankly at the screen.
“We have very little information, unfortunately,” Eric said. “Security footage shows intruders bypassing the Institute’s security systems and attaining access to the vampire research floor. We believe they were specifically targeting her, but because their faces are covered we cannot identify them.”
June gaped. “That’s not what happened!”
“Do you really think they’d let Eric give the police the real footage?” Sam said. “Someone doctored it, of course.”
“We’re sending a special group of our own choosing to Old Town to gather information. The police are aware of this, but are not leading, nor condoning, this separate investigation.”
“Of course.” Sam scoffed. “They think militant vampires did it.”
“What’s in Old Town?” June asked.
“The Nocturnal District,” Micha spoke up. “A place where vampires hang out. Everything’s open from dusk ’til dawn. The less PC refer to it as ‘Blood Row.’”
“The old vampires, and some of the young ones, aren’t happy with his wife’s discovery,” Sam said. “Not that I blame them. They don’t like having their mystique ruined. It makes a good cover for the Institute, though.”
“I’m only vaguely aware of what she did,” June admitted. “I think I might have read about it somewhere.”
“Like the nosy little normal she was, she isolated the bacteria responsible for vampirism,” Sam said. “Found out the bacteria creates enzymes that cause accelerated cell reproduction, which is why they can live indefinitely unless an essential organ is destroyed. It also affects their skin cells; that’s why they’re sensitive to sunlight.”
“It won’t kill them,” Micha said. “It’ll just make them sick with prolonged exposure.”
“The reason vampires have other abilities has more to do with the structure of their society,” Sam went on. “They almost always choose people who already have some level of paranormal ability. However, once they turn, they become impervious to everyone else’s abilities. Scientists are still not sure why. I’m sure some other normal will come along and pick up where she left off so we can all find out.”
June wasn’t into the biology crap supernatural people liked to go on about these days, but the explanation intrigued her. “So why do they drink blood?”
“If they don’t,” Micha said, “the bacteria will deplete their own blood.” Apparently he could remember the science, just not the scientist. “The fresh blood gives it an environment to live in. Since the discovery, they’ve actually found transfusions sustain them better than drinking. Some vampires have decided to be more humane and stop feeding altogether in favor of transfusions.”
“A kinder, gentler vampire.” June sucked in a breath. “Jesus Christ.”
“You seriously don’t know any of this?” Sam shook his head. “You’ve never picked up a copy of Paranormal Scientific Weekly?”
“No. You ever pick up a copy of Inked?”
“She was looking for a cure,” Micha said softly.
The two of them looked at him. June's skin crawled.
“What
