the blood is rare (and sweet as cherry wine)

the blood is rare (and as sweet as cherry)

Being at the top of the food chain came with certain conditions, conditions which a person had no
means to find out as long as they were human. After all, why would a human consider the
possibility of a predator that feasted on them merely for the sake of enjoyment? Why would a
human consider the possibility of something else being the apex predator?
Louis Tomlinson had found out the existence of such beings at a drug-bust gone horribly wrong.
There had been no regrets flashing behind his eyes, or a reel of memories playing as the last of his
breath had left his lungs, the sharp sting on his shoulder and the stench of blood were the only
things he had sensed as his body went lax.
After all the years that had passed between then and now, he still remembered each detail
precisely. How the teeth had torn through the back of his shoulder, sinking deeper and deeper,
ripping through the muscles and tendons. The chilling ache as his body had been paralyzed by his
attacker. Some days, he could feel his shoulder smarting at the reminder of a phantom ache.
He had remembered it all so vividly after regaining consciousness, as if it was an event he had
witnessed rather than experience. On rare occasions, Louis considered what would have happened
if he had died that day rather than being turned into this.
The answer was often depressing. No one would have missed him, or maybe his mother would
have. Louis was nearly a century old now, so even that thought was no longer comforting, he had
buried his mother a couple decades ago. It only reminded him how lonely he was in this world,
how excruciatingly long life could be when you had to watch every single person you ever loved
being eventually returned to the ground.
Immortality was no gift, not when it could tire a person to their bones with one ache after another,
whether physical or metaphorical.
There were those who turned another human into their kind to spend a miserable lifetime together,
but Louis would never go down that path. He had been made into this against his will, and he
would never do that injustice to another living being.
The other miserable part was that he could not meet someone like himself, and if he ever did, he
was sure he would never be able to stand their company. Although, there was one person who had
garnered his attention despite how strongly he refused to admit it.
The conditions for being the apex predator came into play to aid his lonely life further. He had
been a vampire for merely a century, not old enough to be taken seriously by the elites- still
considered young by their standards. Being turned in his late twenties didn't help either, no matter
how much knowledge he had gained and would gain, he would always look too young to be heard.
What would have helped was if he had been turned by an elite, but as ever, his luck had been
digging itself a grave for it was a lowly vampire who had bitten him.
Who knew there were ranks even amongst the top predators?
Louis did not crave for a romantic involvement, what he craved was companionship. Someone to
share the mundane aspects of his days with, to sit by the fire burning in the hearth and soaking the
warmth his body naturally lacked.
Since nothing of that sort was happening, Louis kept his days busy by working as a cop, not like he
could die again. He stayed away from the vampire colonies, not risking running into an elite and
ruining his day by pretending he held any respect for them. They were all blood-suckers, all of
them equally horrible and abominable, no different than him. If creating ranks for the sake of
dignity helped them ease their conscious, Louis was more than happy to stay out of their way.
The only time he willingly ventured into the colony of his town was when he had to get his
sanctioned blood bags. Only twice a month, but still twice more than Louis would have preferred.
If that was not enough to make him miserable, there was yet another aspect to his undead life that
he resented. Being the only cop who happened to be a vampire, Louis was often tasked with crimes
against humanity, meaning he had to investigate any unnatural death, leading him to the colony
against all of his wishes.
Despite a majority of humans being unaware of their existence, there were certain authorities that
knew of vampires and worked hard to keep peace between the two. Arranging for blood bags so
that humans wouldn't have to suffer through bloodshed, keeping those who didn't know better
away from the colonies under the guise of labeling them as government residences. The police
department fell under such authorities, it would have been rather helpful if that had been the case a
century ago as well. Louis might have not been turned back then if he had known any such
creatures existed.
He was well respected in his field of work, an able cop, a brilliant detective, doing an honest man's
work, but that still was not enough to gain him any semblance of recognition with those of his own
kind. But Louis had grown used to it, accepted it for what it was and no longer bothered with what
the elite thought of him.
Often times a vampire would take too much blood from a human and then compel them to forget it.
Those cases were relatively easier to handle Louis found out, but the current one was a notch or
two above the crimes that occurred in their town.
A body had been found just outside the colony, drained completely and left in an open field for the
crows to feast upon. The marks of two fangs evident at the juncture of their John Doe's neck proved
that it was an elite behind the crime. A low ranked vampire's bite mark disappeared within an hour,
the reason why despite being turned, Louis did not have a mark on his neck.
Louis was leading this investigation, others working alongside him were humans and he had to be
extra careful to not put them in harm's way.
"Our man was a Mr. Gerald Schmidt," Ellis, their forensic expert, said, holding out a worn leather wallet, "Thirty-four, a pharmacist."
"Maybe he messed up some old schmuck's blood order," Niall laughed beside him, shrugging when
Ellis shot him a nasty look.
"Respect the dead, Horan," Louis reprimanded for Ellis' sake and walked over to the corpse after
donning a pair of gloves, "How deep is the skin pierced?"
"I would say a little over one inch, autopsy report will be more thorough," Ellis replied, securing
the wallet in an evidence bag.
"A newly turned vampire then," Louis surmised.
"Or a preempted murder by an elite. They might have chosen not to pierce too deeply if they
wanted to disguise their actions."
Louis shook his head, pointing at the nails of the victim, "He tried to fight and flee, can't do that
against an elite."
"So, the murderer could be a vampire who was recently turned and left to their own devices," Niall
said.
The perimeter was secured by yellow tape as the forensics team gathered evidence. Louis shrugged
in response, "Or they might've killed for fun. Who can tell with these elites?"
"We will have to interview them, though," Niall reminded, "If you're not up for it, I can go with
Ellis."
Louis huffed at the suggestion, "And what? Risk getting either or both of you killed by our
murderer? I'd rather have you two stay alive."
"Because we are the best," Ellis' voice was smug even though her face was pinched in
concentration, "Admit it, boss."
"Don't call me boss," he grumbled, doing a careful sweep around the corpse with his eyes. If this
was unplanned, there would have been more evidence left behind, but it seemed to have been
thought out. The man had been alive when he came here, he had known his killer, had been
comfortable enough to venture close to the vampire colony in the dead of the night- a crime of
passion, then. "Horan, you'll come with me to the colony. Ellis, get me that autopsy report at the
latest."
"Yes, boss," she gave a short salute.
Louis did not correct her again, she had not stopped in years, she would certainly not stop now.
The usual unease settled in as soon as they drove past the barricaded entrance, a drastic change in
the air noticeable only by Louis. Warmth surrounded him even inside his patrol car, but it was
unsettling, not the one Louis craved, rather a false sense of welcome.
He drove past the distribution center, an itch at his gums had him gritting his teeth. He had had a
bag just a week ago, he was good for another whole week, but the mere sight of the building
reminded him of what he was, of where he was. Dinner would have to be cooked in blood that
night, Louis certainly deserved it after bearing with the high society elites during the day.
Beside him, Niall was a picture of complete calm. It was a front, Louis could tell by the slightest clench of his companion's jaw. He chose not to comment on it, it was Niall's fight or flight instinct
guiding him. The man was tough as iron, it was not his first time confronting vampires, and
certainly wouldn't be last.
As expected, most elites had an excuse to turn down his request for inquiry, either having a strong
alibi or outright refusing to answer any questions unless he had a warrant.
He parked the car in front of the last house, staring at it with resignation. He knew that was the
only place he would get any semblance of an answer from, but that still didn't provide any
enthusiasm to approach its resident. The owner of the house evoked a feeling in Louis that he had
resolved not to name, the intensity of it scared him enough in the first place.
"You alright, boss?" Niall asked.
Louis let out a voluntary breath and nodded, "You can stay in the car for this one."
"Nah, I would like to see who has you this stressed," the man grinned.
Louis clenched his eyes, bracing himself as he stepped out of the car, "I'm advising you to stay here
for your own good."
"Don't worry, boss, I can hold my own against any vampire," Niall patted his holster, a special
grade pistol secured inside it.
"Fine by me."
They walked up to the gates, ringing the doorbell encased within a tasteful pattern of swirls. Hardly
a moment passed before one of the doors swung open and Louis was greeted by the familiar
fanged smile, green eyes surrounded by a ring of crimson peering down at him.
"Officer," the man all but purred, "I had been looking forward to seeing you all morning."
"You shouldn't be looking forward to police showing up at your doorstep after a crime, Mr.
Edward," he raised an eyebrow when those eyes swept down his body, the barest hint of interest
slipping past the man's guard.
"Please, Officer, it's Harry for you," the man smiled again, stepping aside and gesturing them
inside with an extended arm, "Do come in. And who is this companion of yours?"
"Agent Niall Horan," Niall introduced himself, being clever not to extend his hand for a greeting.
"Nice to meet you, Agent Horan. Tell me, what do you drink?"
"Just water for him," Louis answered hurriedly, narrowing his eyes as Harry's mouth twitched at
the corners. Harry walked them to the sitting room and then asked them to wait as he disappeared
behind a door.
"Why has he invited us inside?" Niall asked.
"Because he is the least snobbish of them all."
"You sure about that, boss?" Niall gestured to the furniture and decorations around them, "Seems
too extravagant, more than what I could see in other houses from the outside."
"I said he is less snobbish, but he has a knack for collecting the weirdest things," he rolled his eyes.
"You know him quite well, yet we have never heard of him before."
"Mr. Edward has helped with a few cases in the past, nothing else."
"I didn't imply anything else," Niall smirked.
Louis gritted his teeth, "Shut it, Horan."
"Sure," Niall said, still smiling. "Harry Edward, such an odd name."
"His name is Harold Edward the Third," he clarified, giving a short laugh, "But he tries to keep up
with the times."
"Officer, I see you're giving away my secrets already," Harry said as he entered the room, carrying
an antique tray.
"It's hardly a secret, Mr. Edward, it's in the records," Louis accepted the delicate glass, cutting a
glance at the man when the underlying scent hit him, "A little early to indulge in such things, isn't
it?"
"You've had a long morning, I'm sure. Merely looking after your health, Officer," Harry smiled.
"You don't need to concern yourself with that."
"Someone has to."
Louis felt the soft caress in his words, suppressing a shiver at the fair-intention of them.
Niall cleared his throat, making Louis snap his gaze away.
"We have a few questions," Louis said after taking a gulp of the wine laced with blood, the alcohol
wouldn't affect him, but as Harry said, the blood would surely strengthen him.
"I'll be happy to answer them," Harry sat opposite to them, his own glass held in an elegant
manner, long fingers curling around the stem. It should be illegal for someone to look this poised in
the morning, especially someone who was mostly dead. The man crossed one leg over the other,
definition of calm and collected in the actual sense.
"We would like to know where you were between midnight to six this morning," Niall said.
"At home."
"Can someone verify your presence here?"
"Mr. Jenkins, my neighbour, can attest to that. Also, there are surveillance cameras placed on this
street, so you can check my whereabouts. I got back home around seven in the evening, and have
been here since then."
"We already asked Mr. Jenkins," Louis said, "He did say you were here, and we will pull up the
surveillance feed later for review."
"How else may I help you then?" Harry asked, swirling the red liquid in his glass and finally taking
a sip, lips quirking up at the corners.
He did not meet Niall's surprised gaze when he answered the other vampire's question, "We need
your help. I need your help."
Harry smiled as if he had known that all along, Louis wouldn't be surprised if he did. "Always
happy to help you, Officer."
"We are heading to the victim's family, you could come with us," Niall added, quickly adjusting to
the change Louis had sprung on him, "You can answer more of our queries on the way over."
"Have you interviewed the other colony residents already?"
"Yes, not that it was very helpful," Louis sighed, averting his gaze when Harry's eyes lingered on
him.
"I shall accompany you tomorrow for the interviews as well," Harry offered, finally taking his eyes
off of Louis as he swirled the wine, "I am sure there is something we will be able to get out of
them."
"Why are you helping us?" Niall asked bluntly, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
At that, Harry's lips curled into a semblance of smile, "Various reasons, but none malicious, I
assure you."
"That's not very reassuring."
"Niall," Louis interrupted, "Mr. Edward here has pure intentions, at least concerning the case."
"Officer, are you implying that I have some hidden nefarious intentions?"
"I never know what your intentions actually are."
Harry's face softened and Louis felt his un-beating heart stutter, a vague thought occurring to him
that Niall shouldn't be present to witness this.
"You only have to see," Harry spoke, his voice low, comforting.
Louis felt stuck in place, the warmth hidden beneath the other vampire's words curling around him
like vines.
Beside him, Niall cleared his throat again, placing down his empty glass, "We should leave now."
"Of course," Harry stood swiftly, taking their glasses, fingers brushing against Louis' as he did so.
"What is it with you, boss?" Niall whispered when they were alone in the room again. Not that the
whispering helped with the other vampire's heightened sense of hearing, perks of being an elite.
"Nothing," he mumbled, "Ignore it, there are more important things to focus on."
-
Louis suppressed a smile as he looked at Niall from the rear-view mirror, the man was pouting at
being assigned the back seat, arms crossed over his middle and face turned to look out the glass
window.
"Mr. Edward," Louis started, "We have some suspicion that it was a newly turned behind the
murder, more will be confirmed by tomorrow when I get the autopsy report. How many of those
are there in the colony?"
"A little over seventy," Harry answered, "A third of the colony is made of them."