Kara exited the cab in front of the local precinct of the police. She looked at the front of the stone building, with its high walls and many plain windows and features.
Please be safe, Olivia.
Kara entered the precinct. Inside was a spacious room with wooden benches near the entrance and hallways on either side. In front of her was a small line of people waiting to be served at the front desk, where a few uniformed officers were helping them.
Kara had to wait in line, and it was killing her. It was slow-moving, and it was noisy. Every minute that passed she kept thinking Olivia was in trouble. She took out her phone and texted Olivia on the off chance that she’d been released before Kara got there.
Where are you, Liv? She kept it light in case someone else had access to Olivia's phone.
When Kara looked up, she was at the front of the line. She was soon called over to one of the officers at the front desk.
"Hello, I'm looking for a friend who was… picked up recently."
The officer nodded. "Can I have their name, please?"
"Olivia Lucero."
The officer typed the name into his computer, clicked a few times, and then shook his head. "No one going by that name has been brought in."
The news stunned Kara. "Uh, what about any unnamed women within the last half hour?"
The officer scrunched his mouth while looking at the computer. "Hmm." After a few clicks, the officer shook his head again. "No, I'm sorry. No Jane Doe brought in within the last half hour."
Kara's face fell. "Thank you," she mumbled as she shambled out of the police station.
Where could she be? Unless… She turned and looked back at the police precinct. They're hiding her in there? Was what James said the truth? Are there detectives who are psychics? Kara could sense psychic energy emanating from all around the police station, but she couldn't tell who it was, or how many people it was coming from. It could be civilians, criminals, or it could very well be the police. She shook her head and stormed off, not knowing what to do.
Kara took a cab back to her home, a small apartment building in a poor part of town that she shared with an old man she took care of. When she turned the key in the lock and opened the door, a familiar voice greeted her.
"Who's there?" the old man yelled.
"It's just me, Mr. Montgomery."
Magnus Montgomery turned in his recliner to better look at Kara as she took off her hoodie and revealed her face. "Where were you? You look like shit."
Kara wiped her eyes. "Out with a friend." She took out her phone and checked for texts.
Magnus nodded with a raised brow. After a moment, he turned back in his recliner and resumed watching television. "You gonna make me something to eat? It's lunchtime."
Kara was still looking at her phone, and then she let out a sigh and put the phone back in her pocket. "Yes, I'll have something ready in a bit."
"Put some more meat in it this time," Magnus demanded.
"The doctor said that you shouldn't be eating so much meat," Kara said as she took some things out of the fridge to cook with.
"I don't care what the doctor said. I want more."
Kara smiled and continued cooking, glad for the distraction. It gave her enough time to clear her head, but it still didn't provide her insight on what she should do next. Before she knew it she was eating at the table with Magnus.
"…with you?"
Kara came out of her thoughts with the sound of Magnus' voice. "I'm sorry, what?"
"I said what's wrong with you, girl? You've been in space since you walked through the door."
Kara paused for a moment, considering whether she should tell Mr. Montgomery or not.
"Spill it out, Kara." It was one of the few times Magnus used her first name, and she knew he meant business, but underlying it all was genuine concern.
"A friend of mine got into some trouble at her job, and now I don't know what to do to help her. I don't know where she is, and she's not responding to her texts."
"Is it that bitch, Olivia?"
Kara frowned. "Don't call her that! She's not a bitch, and the only reason she lashed out at you that time was because you harassed her."
Magnus shrugged his shoulders. "If she didn't have such a nice tush I wouldn't want to give it a squeeze." Kara sighed. There was no changing Mr. Montgomery. After a moment he took on a serious tone. "She's strong. She'll be alright."
Kara peered at Magnus, but he was staring at his food. For a moment, she felt that he was right. Olivia was strong, and more often than not she was helping Kara instead of the other way around. But then Kara remembered what James had said about there being psychics within the police force. Olivia couldn't do anything about psychics, and if they found out she was a vampire, then there's no way she would leave the station unscathed.
"If you're that concerned about her, why not talk to her employer? Maybe they can help you out."
Kara hadn’t thought of that. Olivia's employer, Vasha, had connections and could pull some strings to find out where she was. And, if she was being held in the police station, she might even be able to get her out. Kara had misgivings about meeting with Vasha, but it was her best bet at the moment.
Kara got up from the table and gathered her things. "Thanks, Mr. Mongomery. I'll be back later."
"Stay safe," Magnus said, not turning around.
"I will," Kara replied as she exited the apartment.
She pulled out a business card from her wallet. On the front in a stylized font was the name Vasha, and on the back an address. The font was ostentatious at best, and even though Kara had never met Vasha before, from this and from what she'd heard of the woman, she was in for a ride.
Kara hailed a cab to take her to Vasha's address, but when she stepped out in front of an Italian restaurant she became confused. She leaned into the window of the cab.
"This is the place?" she asked while pointed to the restaurant. The cabbie confirmed that it was the correct address, and then sped off for a new fare.
Kara shrugged her shoulders and entered the restaurant. As soon as she opened the door the smells coming from the kitchen filled Kara's nostrils with intoxicating sweet and savoury notes. Inside, the small restaurant was cleanly divided into sections. On the left was a bar with stools lining the counter, and a hefty stock of alcohol. There were a few patrons drinking and talking with each other at the bar, despite it being the afternoon. On the middle and right side of the restaurant there were tables and booths for a fine dining experience. And finally, at the back, there was the chef's table in front of an open kitchen.
In front of the chef's table there were two large men acting as bodyguards for a woman currently eating at said table. The bodyguards fixed their eyes on Kara the minute she walked in, and despite their relaxed appearance, she could tell they were like coiled snakes: ready to strike at a moment's notice.
Seriously? What is this, a gangster movie?
She walked over to the chef's table, completely indifferent to how she looked in what appeared to be a classy restaurant. The bodyguards tensed and one of them put their hand out to stop her.
"No entry beyond this point, miss."
"I'm here to see Vasha," Kara replied. She tried to look behind the guards to whom she thought was Vasha, but the guards tightened their formation and blocked her view.
"Make an appointment," the other guard commanded.
I don't have time for this. Kara tensed and used her mind to bind the guards, and then she passed by them unimpeded. She sat down at the chef's table in front of Vasha.
The woman had the palest skin Kara had ever seen, almost as if she were a marble statue come to life. The left side of her jet black hair was partially shaved, and the rest flowed in waves over her right shoulder and rested on her chest. A ruby hairpin held it in place so it wouldn't fall on her face as she moved, and she wore an opulent necklace and several rings on her fingers. She was tall and lithe like an athlete, and yet from her lips, chest, and
hips she was voluptuously figured. She was wearing a pin-stripe suit which somehow showed off her curves and gave her a powerful yet provocative look. Men and women alike would no doubt be drawn to her beauty.
Kara couldn't help but stare at her. Olivia had mentioned how beautiful Vasha was, but this was on a whole other level.
"And you are?" Vasha asked, but the tone was more like a command. She didn't even feel the need to look up from her food to acknowledge Kara was there, despite hearing the exchange with her bodyguards.
"I'm Kara. Are you Vasha?"
"Of course I am," Vasha quipped
"Of course you are," Kara repeated, feeling as small as an ant.
"Olivia's mentioned you. You're quite unique. A psychic and a vampire, how… interesting."
Kara couldn't help but gulp at Vasha's tone of pure ecstasy. It was as if, in that instant, Vasha was draining her blood and drinking in her essence. Kara reached for her neck just to be sure there weren’t any marks.
Vasha finished her meal, wiped her mouth, and then glared at Kara. Her mind went numb and she felt like she’d lost something. Before she could recover, the body guards had their powerful arms on her.
"Leave her," Vasha commanded.
"Yes, Miss Vasha." The guards removed their hands from Kara and went back to their post without any deliberation.
Kara was sweating, and she knew better than before that she was in the presence of an unbelievably powerful vampire. "How…?" was all she could muster.
"When you've lived as long as I have, my dear," Vasha began, picking up a wine glass with a red, viscous liquid in it, "you learn a few tricks."
Kara knew what the drink was. Its intoxicating smell was swimming in the air, dancing on her nose and tempting her with its nostalgic taste. It had been so long since she’d fed, and the sweet nectar's aroma made her weak in the knees with anticipation. She needed to remain strong. Now wasn't the time for that.
Vasha took a drink from the glass, and Kara could see her perfect white teeth and long fangs. "Why are you here? Speak up, now."
Kara cleared her throat. "Olivia was at the job you sent her on when police showed up and took her away. I went to the station the car was from and they didn't have any record of her arriving, nor any women in the timeframe which she should have arrived in. She's also not replying to any texts I've sent."
"That's a problem… but I don't see what it has to do with me."
Kara's jaw dropped, and despite the numbness that the woman's gaze gave her, she became angry. "It is your problem. She works for you. You need to help her get out of whatever trouble she's in!"
"No, I don't need to do anything, actually. It is my choice when I perform any action, and I don't see any reason to act at this time."
"The man you wanted her to get the money from, he said there are other psychics in the police force, detectives, and that he would tell them that she's a vampire. If they find out about her, they'll hurt her."
"Oh my, how tragic," Vasha replied, taking another sip of her drink.
Kara gritted her teeth in fury. "What's wrong with you! Olivia talks so highly of you, but you won't even help her."
Vasha held her hand up, silencing Kara. "I gain nothing by doing what you ask. If she is indeed in police custody, and they are aware of her race, I only bring unwanted attention to myself by announcing our mutual association. Olivia is special, she will make it out on her own. And, if she doesn't, there will be others to replace her."
Kara fumed, but before she could lash out, Vasha spoke again.
"I suppose I could be convinced to lend my aid."
Kara's anger subsided a twinge. "How?"
"If I was offered the favour of one psychic vampire for use at my discretion, why, that would be quite the bargaining chip indeed."
"Tch." Kara shook her head and looked away from Vasha as she considered the proposition. "What kind of favour?"
"Indiscriminate. When I have use of your particular services, I will call, and you will answer. No questions asked." Vasha emphasised each word with deeper inflection.
Kara's thoughts drifted to Olivia and what might be happening to her right now. She had heard about horror stories of what psychics have done to vampires in the past, seen them first-hand even, and the thought brought chills to her spine. She was desperate and didn't know where else to turn at this point.
"Alright, please just help however you can."
Vasha smiled in a way that made Kara sick. "Excellent. I shall apply some pressure and I'll let you know what I find. And don't worry, I already have your number."
Kara got up from the chef's table and began to leave, but stopped just short of the bodyguards. She looked over her shoulder and said, "You know, the whole gangster thing is really cliché."
Vasha laughed as she lifted her wine glass in one hand and folded her arms. "What can I say? I liked the fifties."
3. THE NEED TO FEED