History Repeats Itself

Chapter 9 - 'Lost Boy Sicko'

The parting words he left her with vibrated in his mind. What was the council covering up? He wasn't sure what exactly made him believe something was going on, but his gut twisted and turned at the thought of them behind this. And when that feeling came to, he trusted it. Not that he knew anything about them, or who they were, just what she shared.

But he found it so odd that the origins were kept so private. That someone who was around them all the time, writing down what was examined and seen, had no clue about the start of it all. How many other vampires went into this life with the grand illusion of what it was but knew nothing about it? Basically, all she gave him was surface-level information, stuff he was sure he could have found out on his own.

The stuff she knew and nothing else. And why? Because questioning those in a higher authority was against the law. So, in essence, they could do no wrong and not be questioned. That wasn't right. But he couldn't fight it. This was their lifestyle, not his. However, he wasn't sure that these were his cases either. Not that anyone looking in believed these were vampires because most of the world didn't believe in them.

With a sigh, he pulled open the folder and started pouring over the notes he had. The first victim went missing six months before his eighteenth birthday. No sighting of him was ever noted. Until he turned up dead just seven days after his birthday. His name was Justin Brooke, a high schooler who seemed to be a loner. There wasn't much listed in the way of the family but a grandmother. He very well couldn't grudge up the grief she had of losing her grandson and explain what they found.

The second victim was a wander, an orphan by account who aged out of the system due to overcrowding; what a fucking joke. His name was Luke Samson. He dropped out of high school when he left the orphanage, and again, nothing was seen or known of him. Which, given that history, would explain why he was in the slums of the city. No one cared about him, even himself.

"Looking into the cases?" Xander glanced up from the folder and the papers before him to his captain. Xander glanced around, making sure no one was around. "Everyone is gone, especially this late at night. What have you found out?"

"Both of these victims are vampires." Dave opened his eyes wide before taking the folder from Xander. The autopsy report wasn't in yet, but the photos of both of them impaled on the ice were there. He had taken both of them, actually. With a grunt, Dave tossed the folder back on Xander's desk and shook his head, his fingers running through the thinning brown hair.

"Let's take a walk. This type of conversation cannot be had in the prescient." Xander was perfectly fine with that. He wasn't feeling too comfortable even thinking while sitting at his desk. He got up, grabbed his suit jacket, and followed his boss out of the building. "Vampires? How does a human kill a vampire?"

"I don't think it's human, sir," Xander said. "In fact, I believe it's another vampire." Dave rounded on Xander so fast that he was forced to take a step back. He hadn't seen his boss move that quickly in all the years he had spent on the squad.

"Why?"

"Just the sheer impaling of the ice. No human could hold a man to do that, let alone a vampire. And certainly not a young, recently turned, one. These men, these vampires, they were pierced just right to freeze their hearts, sir. Even Jade said that a human has no means to do that. They weren't just thrown on these stakes, they were dropped. As in they were lifted in the air, somehow, and thrown on them."

"Vampires can't do that, Xander. It's against their law. It's punishable by death." Yeah, Xander got that part loud and clear. He didn't need his boss to tell him that. But he also couldn't make sense of anything else.

"I know. I talked to Jade quite a bit." Dave narrowed his eyes for a moment before stepping closer. Xander tried to move but for an older man, Dave was faster yet again, and snatched the shirt away from Xander's neck, exposing the bite marks there. "It's not what you think."

"She bit you, what else is there to think? Fucking shit," Dave muttered. "They aren't good guys, okay? I can't warn you enough about them."

"What makes them bad? You didn't seem to want to warn me about that before."

"I didn't think I had to; didn't think you'd allow that." Dave shook his head before speaking again. "They will ensnare you, twist you up, and not even blink an eye about the life they are destroying. Many people die being drawn to them, giving in to them, and wanting to be part of their world. I'm warning you, don't trust them!" Xander could understand that; even felt that himself on some levels.

However, for some unknown reason which was probably way dumber on his part than he'd like to think, he trusted Jade. He went into her house willingly, not thinking or fearing once, that she would pounce on him or kill him. And why, because she told him they couldn't do that? No, because he felt it. Again, that gut instinct that told him it was okay to be with her, to not fear her.

"Are you talking about being a bite slave?"

"Xander, once you start, it's hard to walk away."

"I'm not a bite slave, sir. She wasn't feeding enough, I was talking to her, saw her swaying, and offered my blood."

"Anything more? Did you fuck her?" Well, no, his dick never left his pants but that didn't mean she didn't rub one out on him and made him explode in his jeans like a kid who didn't know their way around a fucking woman's body.

"No, I didn't fuck her. My dick stayed inside the whole time."

"Good, because that makes it twenty times worse to walk away. It makes it harder to see them die too." Xander narrowed his eyes, but Dave waved the forthcoming question off. "Not going there. Just know I'm not the first cop to know about them, and I know damn good and well you won't be the lost cop to know about them. Enough about that, what can you tell me about those two dead ones."

"They were young, missing persons."

"Are you telling me I've got some Lost Boy sicko wannabe running my streets?" Xander busted out laughing at the movie reference and shook his head. They weren't in Santa Monica; however, they were in California.

"No sir, I don't believe you are. I'm not sure who is turning them, but someone is. And I'm under the impression that they are leaving these newbies alone." Dave ran his hand over his forehead and shook his head.

"That's not how it's done."

"Sir, I know. It's strange. Nothing that I'm saying lines up with what you know. But I'm telling you what I see, what the years of being on the force is telling me."

"I don't like this shit, Xander. Figure out what the hell is going on here. I may not be part of the lifestyle anymore, but I still know enough about it, and I don't like it. Something is going on in my city and it pisses me off. Doesn't seem like their council is doing much to help matters either." With that, Dave walked off, leaving Xander alone with his thoughts. And by the undisguised disgust he heard in his bosses' voice, Xander believed Dave didn't care for the council either. Xander took a deep breath before following Dave back into the building. He sat down, pulling the folder once more before him, his eyes scanning over the features of the first victim. He noticed they didn't change their looks when they turned, they stayed young-looking.

And that was an odd fact for him. If vampires didn't turn before the age of eighteen, why were these two that age? Were they snatched off the street and turned? And if that was the case, how many more runaways or missing persons were there that could be turned? An even better question, was this the first time that people were snatched and turned? Could this have happened throughout history? Is that why the council didn't want things mentioned or talked about it? Because it would give away clues to how unrespectable they were and destroy what they built?

Xander wasn't sure what all was hidden, but he needed the truth. As a human, he would never get close. So, that left Jade. Could he rely on her? Could he trust her? She seemed thrown off her normal course when he was talking to her, but he didn't know if she had it in her to find out. He checked the time, seeing how it was late enough that she would probably just be getting back to her house, and figured he had time for a call before she crashed. With a nod to himself, he dug out his cell phone and called her, figuring it was now rather than never.