Chapter 10: Vampires Rising

The basement of the building that Tony was using as his stash house was large, dark and empty. Because the building was in mid renovations, all furniture, storage items and leftover junk were removed so that repairs could be done unrestricted. Construction lights were hung along the length of the basement's ceiling, but they were rarely in use. There was not much work to be done in the basement. Electrical wiring along with plumbing and heating upgrades was the bulk of the work that would be going on in the basement now if the building was not being used as a stash house. What was happening in the basement was the slow rebirthing of Malcolm Ash and Keegan Walsh into vampires.

It was Sunday evening when Malcolm and Keegan made their first stirrings toward full consciousness. Their bodies were loosely wrapped in construction canvas sheets and laid out in the center of the floor, side by side. Small, gradual movements quickly evolved into frantic efforts to escape the plastic wrappings that they were in.

Cries of “Get me out of here,” originating from inside the plastic wrappings were growing in frequency as their effort to escape became more frenetic. Upon hearing this commotion, Ben hurried down the basement stairs and turned on the construction lights.

Noting the tussle going on within the canvas wrappings, Ben yelled, “They’re awake,” back up the stairs.

Ben did not assist Malcolm and Keegan; he stood and watched them struggle to free themselves. It took just under a minute for them to get partially out.

“Where—where am I?” Malcolm asked with a confused expression.

“What happened?” Keegan mumbled a few seconds later.

As Malcolm and Keegan were questioning their situation, Charlie and Jeremiah came down the stairs to Ben’s side. They watched and waited for Malcolm and Keegan to achieve full awareness. It took another minute for the duo to get up on their feet. Their ordeal left them looking haggard and dazed.

“What did you do to us?” Keegan huffed.

“Here,” Jeremiah commanded, “eat,” as he placed a small grocery bag containing four packets of raw meat and two bottles of water on the floor in front of them.

Malcolm quickly stooped down to the bag and pulled out a packaged raw steak and then looked up at Jeremiah with astonishment. Hunger had motivated his quick action, but the sight of the packet of raw meat in his hands had him befuddled.

“Open it,” Jeremiah insisted in a stern voice.

“I’m not eating raw…”

“Open it!” Jeremiah yelled before Malcolm could finish his remark.

Malcolm was momentarily shocked by the force of Jeremiah’s command. He hesitated then tore open the plastic. Instantly the smell of the meat filled his nostrils and tantalized his taste buds. Keegan was equally overwhelmed by the scent of raw meat. After a moment, a reluctant Malcolm ripped the remaining packaging off the meat and began taking large bites of it, one after the other. Keegan retrieved a steak from the grocery bag on the floor and followed Malcolm’s lead. He began devouring large chunks of the raw steak. Jeremiah, Charlie and Ben watched in silence as Malcolm and Keegan consumed all four packets of beef. By the time they were finished, their canines had elongated into fangs, their fingernails had grown out into claws and their eyes were light reflecting disks.

“How do you feel?” Jeremiah asked just as they began guzzling the bottled water.

Once the guys finished their water, they looked at Jeremiah and his question.

“Is this the way you feel all the time?” Keegan queried between heaving breaths.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Ben questioned with a wide satisfied grin.

“It feels great!” Malcolm roared.

“Good,” Jeremiah acknowledged. “Keep them here,” he instructed Charlie while moving toward the stairs. “Nobody leaves until I get back,” as he started up the stairs. “And somebody needs to be awake at all times, even during the day.”

“Where are you going?” Charlie called out as Jeremiah ascended the stairs.

“I’ve got business to take care of,” Jeremiah responded as he hurried up the stairs. “I’ll be back tomorrow night. Call me if anything important happens while I’m out.”

Malcolm and Keegan spent the remainder of the night marveling at their new selves and eating raw meat. There was nothing else for them to do. Their job was to guard the cocaine filled duffel bags in the basement. Guarding the cocaine mostly involved staying quiet and awake. They were all sure that no one outside of their group of six knew about the cocaine inside the building. Other than a couple of late-night youngsters casually assessing the strength of the lock and chain securing the property, nothing of interest occurred that night. By the time the sun was situated over the eastern horizon the next morning, Charlie, Ben and Malcolm were even more attentive to their guard duty because of the large number of people moving around outside.

~~~~~Line Break~~~~~

“Manhattan South Homicide, Detective Tremaine,” Cassidy quickly announced into the telephone receiver in her hand.

It was mid-Monday morning when her desk phone rang. She had spent the whole morning searching for new leads in the Pier 17 stabbing and the Gary Bibb shooting without assistance. The other members of her team were fixated on the Dryden murder, and for good reason. The local news outlets were jockeying for a scoop on this killing and more than one government official was pressing for a quick and successful termination of the investigation. The shooting of a rich wall street executive with seemingly extreme prejudice during a robbery was fertile soil for conspiracy theorist within the local news. For the top governing officials of New York, the image of a wealthy New Yorker being gunned down on a city sidewalk in broad daylight without an arrest or a suspect was unacceptable.

“Hi, this is Detective Campbell—Brooklyn North Homicide, I’m working an investigation that has some similarities with a case you recently worked.”

“What case is that?” Cassidy queried with mounting curiosity.

“The Green Belt Nine. I was wondering if you knew of any link that case might have with prostitution, specifically prostitutes in Brooklyn?” Dt. Campbell asked.

“You’re working that prostitute murder?” Cassidy asked with surprise.

“Yes, do you know of a connection with the Greenbelt killings?” Dt. Campbell asked again, now intrigued.

“No—no, I just recalled hearing something about your investigation a few days ago,” Cassidy explained dismissively.

“Well, right now we’re just running down leads,” Dt. Campbell casually explained. “We don’t know if this particular lead has any significance, but we’re looking into everything. Can you think of anything that might connect your Greenbelt killings with the murder of a 37-year-old Brooklyn prostitute?”

“Ah—not off hand,” Cassidy returned, confused. “What exactly do you have?”

“Well, our victim, a Miss Kelley Graham, died of severe blood loss, but we found an impression in the wound that could be a bite mark.”

“The killer bit her?” Cassidy returned with surprise.

“We’re not sure it’s a bite, but if it is, it had to be an animal of some kind,” Dt. Campbell responded. “The indentations are like what was found on some of the Greenbelt Nine victims.”

“We never found out what was behind those markings,” Cassidy said nonchalantly. “But if you find a connection, I would be interested in hearing it.”

“It’s probably just a coincidence,” Dt. Campbell mused. “But if we find anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks,” Cassidy responded.

Even before she hung up, Cassidy’s mind was fuming with angry thoughts and sick with fear. The idea that the Dacia Vampires were killing mortals had her terrified about what might happen if she alerted the world to their existence. She briefly entertained the idea that the Dacia Vampires were breaking their promise to her, then quickly dismissed it. Killing a prostitute and leaving her body out to be found made no sense to Cassidy. Her mind took hold of the possibility that she was mistaken, she rationalized several reasons why that should be true, and then she concluded that it was all wishful thinking. After thoughtful consideration, Cassidy decided she needed more information and hurried out of the squad room with her cellphone in hand.

After walking out onto the sidewalk in front of the 13th Precinct, Cassidy initiated a speed dial on her cellphone to the vampire she had been most conversant with of late. After six rings someone on the other end picked up.

“This is a surprise,” Brooke humorously chided.

“Who did it?” Cassidy challenged.

“What are you talking about now?” Brooke queried somberly.

“You know what I'm talking about,” Cassidy growled under her breath. “The prostitute.”

“Okay, Cassidy, you're being even more bizarre than usual,” Brooke countered in a dreary voice. “What are we talking about?”

“There's a dead prostitute in the morgue with bite marks in her neck—vampire bite marks,” Cassidy sternly whispered back. “Now tell me who did it?”

Cassidy's request for a name was followed by a moment of silence, then the call disconnected. Cassidy was shocked by the sudden dial tone coming from her cellphone. She was infuriated that Brooke had deliberately disconnected the call. Thinking the disconnect may have been accidental, she redialed and waited for a pickup. After seventeen rings, Cassidy concluded that Brooke was not going to answer, so she put away her cellphone and set off for her squad room. Cassidy was distracted with worries and gave no notice to passing co-workers. Her mind was too busy considering choices and consequences.

“Personal business?” Dt. Washington asked as Cassidy passed her desk.

“What?” Cassidy asked as she stopped and turned toward the speaker with a confused expression.

Dt. Washington was surprised to see Cassidy's distraction and intrigued by it. She suddenly felt emboldened and elected to press her advantage.

“I was just saying you seem to have a lot of personal emergencies,” Dt. Washington gently reproved. “You do know that the job of a Police Detective is a full-time occupation and not volunteered charity work?”

Cassidy took a second to give her coworker a disapproving scowl before moving on to her desk.

~~~~~Line Break~~~~~

“Hello little brother,” Nadja greeted as she and Petru stepped across the threshold of David’s (Cristiãn) front door.

The little brother moniker was a jest that Nadja infrequently used. She and David were born human twins. Nadja assigned herself the distinction of being the elder sibling because she became a vampire nearly two years before her brother. She and her mate, Petru, were residents of Paris, France. David (Cristiãn) learned of their arrival in New York and their intention to visit him in a telephone call late last night. Nadja and Petru were the names given to them when they were humans more than two-thousand years ago. Simone Deveaux and Armel Valcourt were the names and identities that they assumed for public use.

“Hi,” David (Cristiãn) greeted them as he shut the door.

After closing the door, David (Cristiãn) led his guests into the living room of his condominium. Nadja and Petru took seats on the sofa without waiting for an invite. As family members with many past visits to David’s home, social conventions were nonexistent.

“This isn't a social visit?” David (Cristiãn) questioned.

“What makes you say that?” Nadja asked suspiciously.

“You're staying in the Greenwich house,” David (Cristiãn) asserted the obvious.

Nadja quickly picked up on David’s (Cristiãn) logic. Generally, they spent their New York visits with David (Cristiãn). When the Dacia Vampires gathered in the States, the vacation house in Greenwich was always the location for their meetings. It provided seclusion and its easy distance from New York City made it the preferable location. When numerous Vampires were coming in for a meeting, staying at David’s (Cristiãn) condominium in the city was an inconvenience.

“We're here with Stefan and Helga,” Petru returned.

Petru was David’s maker which gave them a strong intuitive connection to each other. Their connection surpassed Nadja and David's biological connection as human siblings and as vampire offspring of the same maker.

“Then it's definitely not a social visit,” David (Cristiãn) concluded. “So, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait until tonight?”

“It's possible that a newborn immortal is running loose in New York,” Petru advised.

Petru’s words surprised David (Cristiãn). He could sense that something serious was brewing, but a stray vampire roaming the city of New York was not on his list of possibilities.

“Razvan?” David (Cristiãn) queried with a look of surprise.

“Yes,” Petru returned.

Petru’s one-word answer reflected his understanding that David (Cristiãn) was asking who made this vampire.

“Just one?” David (Cristiãn) quickly asked.

“As far as we know?” Petru answered solemnly.

David (Cristiãn) sat back to consider the information he had just heard. Suddenly, the peculiar behavior and activity he had been seeing and hearing made sense.

“So, that's why Stefan and Helga gave me a visit last week,” David (Cristiãn) knowingly mumbled. “They could have told me then.”

“There has been some concern voiced about your relationship with Dt. Tremaine.” Petru tactfully stated.

David (Cristiãn) noticed the care Petru put into his words.

“It's decided that we should keep this a secret from her,” Nadja spoke into the silence.

“Lucian wants to keep Cassidy in the dark?” David (Cristiãn) quickly questioned.

Nadja and Petru ignored David’s reflex response.

“Would you have told her?” Nadja calmly asked.

David (Cristiãn) had not considered that question until now. The idea of lying to Cassidy had ceased to become a consideration since he revealed to her that he was a vampire.

“If she asked…, yes.” David (Cristiãn) answered.

David (Cristiãn) took a deep breath and considered his two messengers while they watched him.

“What does Stefan want from me?” David (Cristiãn) asked.

“We need everyone onboard with this,” Petru flatly returned. “We can't afford the time and effort to dance around you.”

Now David (Cristiãn) knew that this meeting was Petru's idea. He could sense from the pheromones coming off him that Petru had argued for his inclusion in this hunt. What he could not sense was their decision about Cassidy, which prompted his next question.

“Cassidy?”

“Not Cassidy,” Nadja quickly answered.

“She might be able to help,” David (Cristiãn) argued.

“And she might kill us all,” Nadja countered sternly.

“I think we have to take that risk,” David (Cristiãn) continued to argue.

“Lucian disagrees,” Petru calmly reported.

Lucian was the chosen leader of the Dacia Vampires. It was agreed that he would make decisions for the whole when the group could not be assembled fast enough to vote on matters that concerned them all.

“I think this is a mistake,” David (Cristiãn) heaved after a thought.

“Cristiãn, all we have to do is find McGuire and end this,” Nadja insisted. “Cassidy doesn't need to know anything about it.”

“It has been more than a month. How do you know that you're dealing with just one newborn?” David (Cristiãn) implored. “No one chooses to go through eternity alone.”

“Well, that's not quite true, is it brother?” Nadja taunted.

David (Cristiãn) hesitated just long enough to explore a response to Nadja's insinuation. He knew that she was speaking about his solitary situation. It had long been her wish and her efforts to find him a mate. He decided against taking the bait and turned his thoughts back to the argument he was making.

“You know once it starts, the spread will happen quickly,” David (Cristiãn) declared with emphasis. “A newborn immortal will turn family members, friends, lovers, allies—anyone he wants or needs. And each new immortal will do the same. Eventually there will be no stopping it without a purge.”

“That's why we have to find Tony McGuire and anyone he turned as quickly as possible,” Petru urged.

David (Cristiãn) recognized that Nadja and Petru were not here to discuss what they should do. They were here to instruct him on what he would do.

“I can't lie to Cassidy,” David (Cristiãn) confessed apologetically.

“I know,” Petru softly acknowledged. “Just don't volunteer the information.”

“If she finds out on her own then we'll have to tell her,” Nadja supported. “But we need to keep her in the dark for as long as possible.”

“We need you in on this,” Petru added.

“Okay,” David (Cristiãn) solemnly agreed. “Tell Stefan I won't go to Cassidy with it.”

“Good,” Nadja retorted as she and Petru got up from the sofa. “We need you in the loop,” she continued while slowly moving toward the door.

David (Cristiãn) pensively followed Nadja and Petru. As they reached the door, David (Cristiãn) stopped with his hand on the knob to mull over a new thought. After contemplating a moment, David (Cristiãn) turned back to face his sister and her mate.

“Tell me this,” David (Cristiãn) began tentatively. “What happens if this spills out among the mortals?”

Nadja and Petru hesitated to respond to David’s (Cristiãn) question. For a moment they deferred to each other to make the reply. David (Cristiãn) wanted to know how Cassidy would be affected if the humans learned of their existence. The question was important because she could identify them all by name and with pictures. All the Dacia Vampires were skeptical of Cassidy’s purported file that would automatically go public if anything happened to her. With the possibility that she was bluffing in mind, the answer they were trying to avoid was the calculation that they would have little reason to keep Cassidy alive and a larger reason for killing her quickly.

“Don't go there, Cristiãn,” Nadja pleaded while gently laying her hand on his arm. “Let's do this now and leave tomorrow for tomorrow.”

David (Cristiãn) gave Nadja an affirming nod before opening the door.

~~~~~Line Break~~~~~

Cassidy was approaching the parking space in front of her home when a car door opened a few spaces ahead. At first, she gave the occupant climbing out of the front passenger’s seat little notice. A moment later she was startled to see that the passenger resembled Brooke. Immediately after parking her car, shutting off the engine and stepping out of it, Cassidy saw Ronald sitting behind the steering wheel of the car.

“Come on,” Cassidy urged her children, Cynthia and John, from the back seat of the car.

Cassidy hurried up to the front door of her house with Cynthia and John in tow. She stopped at the door and looked back at Brooke who was still standing by her car. After giving her a moment’s study, Cassidy turned her attention to unlocking the door.

“Who's that, mommy?” Cynthia asked.

“Nobody, baby,” Cassidy quickly assured. “Go to your rooms and change your clothes,” she directed in a rush while holding the door open.

The children raced gleefully into the house and off to their rooms. Cassidy briefly watched and listened from just inside the front door, then she went back outside closing the door behind her. She hurried down the front steps and angrily strode toward a passively postured Brooke.

“What are you doing here?” Cassidy demanded as she stopped at least a dozen feet away from Brooke.

“You called me,” Brooke disputed.

Brooke took a step forward, and Cassidy responded with a half step back. Brooke noted the Cassidy’s trepidation and took a half step back with resentment and dismay.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick,” Brooke glibly assured. “You know how I hate standing out in the sun.”

“Yeah, I can smell you rotting,” Cassidy snidely returned.

“I doubt that,” Brooke articulated with a haughty air of indifference. “But you, however, smell delicious,” she continued with a sly smile.

“What do you want?” Cassidy countered with stifled rage.

“I want to know about the prostitute,” Brooke explained with a new seriousness.

“I told you on the phone, and you hung up on me,” Cassidy testily returned.

“We don't discuss immortal business across electronic devices,” Brooke scolded. “I told you that.”

“So, you come to my home,” Cassidy nearly bellowed with rage.

“You told us to stop coming to your job,” Brooke forcefully emphasized. “Now tell me about the damn prostitute.”

Cassidy glared at Brooke before succinctly conceding to her demand.

“I told you; a Brooklyn prostitute was found dead in an alley. She had a neck wound, and the cause of death was severe blood loss.”

“What makes you think a vampire killed her?” Brooke asked in a challenging tone.

“They found teeth indentations in the wound,” Cassidy fiercely insisted, “indentations that match the findings on the Greenbelt Nine victims.”

Brooke's expression changed, showing her discomfort with Cassidy's report. Cassidy was quick to note the change in Brooke's disposition. Her belligerent attitude instantly changed into an inquisitive one.

“Was she killed by a vampire?” Cassidy continued in a gentler tone.

“Anything is possible,” Brooke returned dismissively.

“Is someone in your group behind the killing?” Cassidy softly questioned with a step forward.

“No.” Brooke quickly insisted.

“Are there vampires here who are not part of your group?” Cassidy asked with an inquisitive stare.

“None that I know of,” Brooke answered nonchalantly.

Brooke's indirect answers set off an alarm in Cassidy's mind. She hesitated a moment before continuing her query in a sterner tone of voice.

“Could there be vampires here who are not part of your group?”

Brooke became angry with Cassidy's tone and immediately came to the realization that she was being interrogated; and that aggravated her even more.

“Yeah,” Brooke snidely concurred. “And it could have been killer clowns from outer space.”

Cassidy knew from Brooke's cynical response that she was not going to get anything beyond what she had heard so far. Her own belligerence returned in response, prompting her to speak with annoyance.

“If I find out that you’re lying to me…”

“I’m not lying to you,” Brooke sharply interrupted. “None of us did that killing.”

Cassidy examined Brooke's face for signs that she was hiding something.

“Is there anything more that you can tell me about the prostitute?” Brooke queried into the mounting silence between them.

“What do you want to know?” Cassidy asked back with a confused expression.

“Are there any suspects?” Brooke asked as if spoke the obvious.

“I'm not working the investigation,” Cassidy returned with an irritation. “And the detectives investigating the case are not going to give out that information.”

Brooke was clearly disheartened by Cassidy's answer and stepped back in frustration.

“So, that's it?” Cassidy asked.

“That's it,” Brooke responded as she turned and opened the passenger door of her car.

“Don't come here again,” Cassidy vociferously insisted before turning toward her house.

Brooke stopped in the doorway of her car when she heard Cassidy's parting remark.

“You know, you should really consider therapy for that paranoia,” Brooke called back.

Cassidy stopped and turned back to watch Brooke get into her car. Seconds after Brooke closed the front passenger door, Ronald drove out of the parking space. As the car rolled off down the street, Cassidy reviewed the conversation she just had with Brooke. The more she thought about it, the more suspicious she became. Cassidy noted that she had more questions now than when she started. And that it was not Brooke’s answers that were bothering her, it was her questions.

~~~~~Line Break~~~~~

“Hi, Pat,” Jeremiah greeted with a wide smile.

Patricia Boyd was shocked by Jeremiah’s sudden appearance. At first, she had no idea who the man was that hurried to her side, and she reflectively inched away. After a moment of examination, she noticed a familiarity between the stranger and a regular customer of the Denny’s Restaurant where she worked as a waitress. She quickly dismissed the possibility that he was that customer because of the obvious age difference between this man and the customer she was thinking of. It was past eleven pm, and Patricia Boyd was on her way home from work.

“Hi,” Patricia testily returned while increasing her pace.

“You’re finished for the night?” Jeremiah questioned as he quickened his steps to keep up with Patricia.

“Do I know you?” Patricia asked peevishly without slowing.

“You don’t recognize me?” Jeremiah questioned back with a pronounced smile.

Patricia slowed her pace to give Jeremiah’s face another brief study.

“You look sort of familiar,” Patricia hesitantly acknowledged. “But I don’t—I’m not placing you,” she puzzled out. “I have to go,” she finished while resuming her earlier pace.

Jeremiah kept pace with Patricia while smiling her way.

“Table nine—seven o’clock—tea with lemon,” Jeremiah gleefully hinted.

Patricia quickly made the connection between the hint and the person he was speaking of, and that man was the person she thought he resembled. Patricia came to a sudden stop to re-examine the stranger speaking to her. She looked him over with a surprised expression.

“I look different, don’t I?” Jeremiah proudly questioned with both his arms extended out to his sides.

“Yeah, you do,” Patricia grumbled. “What happened?” She testily asked while resuming her walk.

“It’s a new drug,” Jeremiah lied as he matched Patricia’s pace. “How would you like to try it? I have some in my car.”

“You know what, I just want to go home,” Patricia angrily insisted as she quickened her pace even more.

Jeremiah increased his pace while responding to her declaration with a pleading intonation.

“Aw come on, I promise you’ll love it.”

“I don’t want your drug, and I don’t want your company. So, go away, asshole” Patricia spat out angrily.

“Hey, I’m offering you the chance of a lifetime,” Jeremiah insisted with a smile.

Patricia Boyd was a petite twenty-two-year-old who was exceedingly pretty and very street savvy. She sported tattoos on her arms and a ring through her nose. For Patricia, men were mostly fun, and she enjoyed their attentions. She was not above engaging in casual sex when she liked a man, but Jeremiah was not one of those men. Despite his new youthful look, Patricia found the small, thin, funny looking man, too unattractive and weird. She was determined to brush Jeremiah off, and she was now prepared to speak bluntly to do it.

“Listen, creep, get lost!” Patricia stopped to yell at the man before turning and storming away.

“Hey, come on,” Jeremiah spoke in a semi-pleading tone as he hurried to keep up with Patricia. “Let me buy you dinner. Where would you like to go?”

Patricia gave Jeremiah an angry look out the corner of her eyes while she hurried along.

“You need to leave me alone before I call the police,” Patricia warned in a stern voice.

“Okay, okay,” Jeremiah agreed beseechingly while still matching Patricia’s stride. “But before I go, let me tell you something.”

“What?” Patricia asked without slowing her pace.

“Well, it’s like this…,” Jeremiah began to speak, then stopped while maintaining his position by Patricia’s side.

Patricia glanced at her tagalong and wondered why he stopped speaking. She did not think she was in any great danger at that moment despite the late hour. She was walking down was large and well-lit street. Most of the businesses in the vicinity were closed, but cars continued to roll by just often enough for there always to be someone coming around. Pedestrians were few and distant, but just enough of them for Patricia to feel that someone would hear her scream if it came down to a scuffle. She was confident in her ability to give this man a struggle; but Jeremiah had a different estimation of her situation.

Jeremiah had been fixated on Patricia for eight long months. His frequent patronage of the restaurant where she worked was motivated by his desire to see her. She was the latest girl of his dreams and one of dozens over the past twenty years that considered him too old for a romantic relationship. Numerous past failures, starting from the age of forty, taught him to be circumspect about his intentions. Embarrassing rejections caused him to limit his appetite for sex to prostitutes and drug addicts, but his new situation now made him believe that Patricia was his for the taking.

“What?” Patricia demanded after waiting several seconds. “What do you want to tell me?”

Jeremiah was stalling for time. He knew Patricia’s route home, and he prepared things for the situation. After another three steps, Jeremiah reached into his pocket and pulled out a remote car key fob. When he pressed one of the buttons on the fob, the trunk to his BMW X4 popped open. It took Patricia a couple of seconds to realize what was happening, but that was 2 seconds more than she had to move out of reach. Jeremiah snatched her up off her feet with startling speed and had his hand over her mouth before she could scream. The strength of his hold was far beyond Patricia’s ability to wriggle free. Jeremiah quickly carried her over to the trunk of his car, bit into her jugular and began siphoning her blood. He wasted no time. Jeremiah calculated that speed would be necessary for success.

Patricia’s mind went from fear to terror when she felt Jeremiah's teeth sink into her neck. Her struggles doubled in intensity, but her efforts had no effect. Jeremiah held her tightly within his arms while keeping a substantial portion of her neck pinched between his teeth and lips. For a little more than a minute he held her beneath the shadow of the hood of his trunk and relentlessly drank her blood until she lost consciousness. Jeremiah lifted her into his arms and lowered her into the trunk while continuing to siphon her blood. It took just over two minutes for Patricia’s heart to beat its last. Its fading pulsations were easy for Jeremiah’s vampire senses to detect. When he was satisfied that she was dead, Jeremiah bit into the palm of his hand, and then he dripped his blood into Patricia’s mouth. When he was convinced that a enough of his blood was in her throat, Jeremiah closed Patricia inside the trunk of his car, got behind the steering wheel and drove off with his catch.

When Jeremiah arrived at his house, he used the cover of night to sneak Patricia's lifeless body from the trunk of his car and into his house. When he was secure inside the house, he carried Patricia’s lifeless body down the basement and placed her on a makeshift bed of blankets, pillows and sheets that he had created on the floor. Then he padlocked one end of a ten-foot-long chain above her left ankle. The other end of the chain was padlocked around a steel center support column. When he was done installing Patricia in his basement prison, Jeremiah used the remainder of the night to admire and fondle his catch.