Laurell Hamilton - Affliction

The three of us divided the reports into three piles: the missing-person reports, most of which were now solved; the crime scenes where people had been killed; and the reports from the doctors about the survivors’ injuries and the rotting disease. I skipped the last pile, because I’d talked directly to the doctors, and Edward had spoken to Micah about his dad while I was unconscious, so Hatfield got that pile. She hadn’t taken time to read any of it through; most of the time if you’re given a warrant against vampires in custody, there isn’t time to study up on it. The marshal can insist on reading about the crime, but most don’t. They ride into town, perform the execution, and ride out again. We’re sort of the Lone Rangers of Death, and yes I do know that the Lone Ranger was a Texas Ranger, not a U.S. Marshal, but it’s still what most people think of when we show up. One modern inner-city slang term for us was Lone Rangers, or just Rangers. We don’t usually solve the crime, but we sure as hell end the investigation. Death is about as final as you can get – mystery solved, time to ride off into the sunset on our pale horse with our blood-spattered scythe. I’d started reading before I did custody executions, because if I was ending someone’s life, I wanted to know what they’d done to earn it. I wasn’t called out on morgue kills anymore, partially because they knew I’d be a pain in the ass about it and actually insist on seeing case files, and because there were plenty of marshals like Hatfield and one of my fellow marshals back home who would be happy to ride into town, take care of your vampire problem, and ride out without asking a damn thing.

Edward read the crime scenes to begin with and I read the missing persons. It was interesting that some of the missing would turn out to be victims and others would be moved over to ‘vampire.’ Vampires were never considered victims in these cases. Once you moved from human to vamp you were the enemy; it was like you started out as the princess waiting to be rescued and ended up being the dragon to be slain. I’d theoretically known that this was the way things worked, but seeing the missing people divided up so neatly made me have to look at it differently. I even agreed with the change, because when a person was first made a vampire and the rogue master that made them was still controlling them, the new vampire was like a loaded gun in the hands of a killer. It would take weeks for them to be self-aware enough to be anything more than blood-seeking killers. New vamps were the most likely to tear out people’s throats by accident, because they could sense the blood in the body, and they wanted it, but there is a practice curve to learning to use fangs. Hell, once a person had been captured by vampire gaze, they could turn into an enemy. I’d had more than one fellow cop try to shoot his own men after a vamp mind-fucked them. So I agreed it was just standard because the evil master vampire would control them until he or she was killed, and if the master was new enough, killing him or her would turn the newbie vamps into damn near revenants that attacked and killed anything. Some vampires’ minds could survive the deaths of their masters, and some couldn’t, and those had to be put down like a rabid animal, because that was probably all they’d ever be. But as I read through the reports about families with children, engagements announced just before they disappeared, parents asking after their grown children on a weekly basis, I began to wonder if given enough time even the most insane new vamp could become more like who they had been?

There was no way to test the theory, because they were animals with superhuman strength and super-speed that lived off the blood of the living. They weren’t much more alive than a flesh-eating zombie. You couldn’t cage something like that and hope it improved over time, but looking at pictures of the vampires before they became vampires made me wonder how many people we’d killed who might have recovered to be law-abiding citizen vamps. It was like wondering if a serial killer could be reformed. The answer was no, but it was still something you wondered about when you heard of one who could go twenty years without a kill while he raised his kids to be teenagers. Apparently being the parent of teens was enough to send him back to killing. I’ve heard having teenagers was stressful, but geez.

‘You’ve thought of something,’ Edward said.

I looked up from the files, blinking because I had to drag myself back from the files, and the smiling faces, and the bloody faces, and my own thinking.

‘Not really, or not in the way you mean.’

‘Share,’ he said.

I glanced at Hatfield, who was looking at me now, too. If had just been Edward then I would have shared, but … ‘Just a weird thought I had about how new these vampires are. I’ve never been called in where this many people were listed as missing and then changed to killer vamps; one or two, yeah, but not dozens.’

‘It’s not dozens,’ Hatfield said.

‘I requested they send me all the missing-person reports for this area in the last three months, even ones they didn’t think were linked. A lot of people vanished in the same area, but over about a three-month time period. They found three bodies so decomposed that they thought they’d all fallen to their deaths and then animals got to them. That may be what happened; animals do that in wilderness areas and it’s routine to just accept it as accidental death.’

‘But you don’t think it was,’ Hatfield said.

‘If a vampire is powerful enough, it can go inactive for years and sustain itself, but when it wakes, or gets out of where it was trapped, whatever, it usually is a little crazy. It feeds in a more animalistic fashion, like a newbie vampire again, until it’s had enough blood to sort of get its head back to a point where it’s not crazy anymore. Some vampires never come back after being trapped without food for too long.’

‘Trapped how?’ Hatfield asked.

‘Cross-wrapped coffins, usually,’ I said.

‘Who traps them in cross-wrapped coffins? We’d just kill them,’ she asked.

I debated on what to say, and finally Edward said, ‘Vampires have what amounts to jail when one of their kind goes crazy and they don’t want to kill them.’

‘I thought they just killed each other like any other predator.’

‘Even animal predators don’t like killing one of their own friends, but vampires are just like regular people. They find it hard to kill someone they’ve known a long time, so they try to imprison them and hope they can cure them.’

‘You mean rehabilitate them?’ she asked.

‘Something like that,’ I said. In truth, being trapped in a coffin was usually more punishment than trying to save you. I’d known vampires that had been driven crazy from long coffin imprisonment, but that wasn’t something I was sharing with Hatfield. She was being friendly, but she wasn’t my friend, not yet.

‘So, say you had a vampire wake up, or escape being imprisoned, whatever; they’d go after the nearest food, which would probably be animals, right?’ Hatfield asked.

‘Animals are harder to catch than you’d think,’ I said, ‘but maybe you can’t actually sustain yourself on animal blood, not even freshly killed animals.’

‘Why not?’ she asked.

‘Because you need that spark, that extra energy, whatever it is from humans to go with the blood.’

‘You mean like drinking someone’s soul?’

‘That presupposes that animals don’t have souls and I wouldn’t be willing to say that,’ I said.

‘Okay, then what? What makes us so special for vampires?’

I smiled. ‘If you can answer that question in a definitive way, Hatfield, you’ll be doing better than hundreds of years of religion and philosophy.’