Revere & Cross Ch. 01

Sergeant West furrowed his brows at her. "Is that an e-cig, Alton?" Alton nodded as she took a drag. "Too much like giving a robot a blow job don't you think?"

She placed the black e-cig in the back pocket of her jeans. "Thanks."

He smiled apologetically. "Sorry. When the Lieutenant gets done with his phone call I want you to bring this Astrathrope here."

She practically choked on the fear that lodged itself in her oral cavity. She rolled her tongue around it like an ill flavored sucker.

A image of the Astrathrope's living conditions swam in her head. An old shack in the middle of nowhere surrounded by corpses? It was more likely than not. She shivered.

"Why?"

"Because Ax doesn't have a filter and you're the fastest driver in Houston. I want this finished before I melt." He reminded her of Ira Cross as he said that, something in his face. It occurred to her a while back that she mustn't be the only one on Ira's pay roll, but it always surprised her when the Sergeant channeled Ira's will. She wondered what Kevin's excuse was for dealing with the Devil. If it was anything like her own she didn't want to know about it.

"Yes, Master."

The older man's eyes gleamed and a smile she only saw accompanied with fangs spread across the man's face.

"Alright, got it!" Axworthy practically skipped back to them. "His name is Revere Wilder, odd name for an odd fella. He owns a private drug detection business called Drug Breaker. No office though...most likely can't get one. Anyway, I pulled him up and he lives in an apartment complex about twenty minutes from here, 1556 Hawknest drive."

"Why don't we just call him?"

"I called his cell but he...he told me to go fuck myself. I tried to explain who I was but he thought I was a telemarketer."

"Call him back."

"Yeah, called five times now."

West chuckled glancing at Alton. "At least he doesn't live in the middle of nowhere surrounded by corpses."

She blinked and narrowed her eyes at her master, clearly seeing him beneath West's face. Kevin was gone at the moment, it disturbed her more than a little.

"Got that right," Axworthy noticed her walking to her car. "Wh-where are you going? I want to go."

She looked over her shoulder at her friend. "You said twenty minutes right?" He nodded. "I'll be there in ten."

Her master's eyes blazed underneath West's brown ones."That's my girl."

-

The apartment complex was nice enough. There was a walking trail and a community pool and even a tennis court. Children played football in a field near by. It would have been peaceful if she didn't know it harbored a monster.

Alton parked in front of the apartment building. She could see the blue door of 1556 on the second level. There wasn't anything to cue her in on what she was walking into. At least the sliding-glass door to the balcony didn't have any blood splatter. In fact the balcony looked barren. Only a lonely chair and a potted lemon tree rested in the corner.

She sighed biting back the fear and got out of the car into the Houston heat.

Once upstairs, she lingered at the paint chipped door of 1556. She could hear the muffled sound of a television. She raised her hand to knock and bit her lip.

The last Astrathrope she encountered was a first generation spawn. It's mouth was filled with layers of sharp teeth. She had watched in horror as the beast bit a baby in half before emptying her gun in it's head. It's four orange eyes haunted her dreams still.

Ira impatient, knocked on the door for her.

"Shit!" She backed away from the door. "Damn you, Ira."

She prayed it wasn't home, that it left the TV on by accident, or better yet left it on for the dog. It didn't really matter, as long as the door stayed shut.

The door opened.

A tall V of a man stood in front of her. A collection of sharp lines and lean muscled edges. His tan bare torso drew her eyes like a moth to a flame. She made herself look back up at his face and away from his abs. He sported sunglasses and a backwards baseball cap. He was the sort she'd be very lucky to pick up on volleyball night. His narrow diamond shaped face reminded her of a fox, a fox with a fantastic jawline.

"May I help you?" He raised his hand to his mouth, taking a bite of a cookie she recognized as a Tagalog.

"Yes, um, I'm sorry. I think I have the wrong address. I'm looking for a Revere Wilder?"

He popped the rest of the cookie in his mouth. "That handsome bastard lives here, yes."

A wave of disgust washed over her. She had heard of people having Abomination fetishes. Him having the kink instantly dwindled his attractiveness down to a spark.

"Is he home? I'm from the Houston Paranormal Investigative Team, we require his services."

"Dogs too busy sniffin' their asses?"

She blinked, a small smile escaping her lips. "That's not for me to say."

"Will there be compensation? This fella's broke."

She rolled her eyes. "I think we can work something out."

He shrugged, eating another cookie whole. "I'll go get him," he mumbled.

She smiled in amusement. How many cookies did the guy have? And more importantly where was he keeping them? The man had pocketless sweatpants on and nothing else. She couldn't help but notice how low they rode his waist.

He opened the door wider, she could see a black leather sofa and a flatscreen running an episode of Breaking Bad.

"Please, come on in. It's hot as Satan's ballsack out there."

She shivered at the thought of going into an Astrathrope's lair. She wouldn't, no matter how alluring the bait's body or charming his southern accent was.

"No thank you, I'll wait out here."

He raised his eyebrows. "You sure? No need to be shy."

"I said no."

She couldn't see his eyes, but felt them judging her in turn. "Whatever girl."

Alton opened her mouth to tell him that she wasn't a girl, that in fact she was older than him by five years. He closed the door in her face before she could say anything.

Dorreta waited. And waited. She was becoming increasingly impatient. Sweat glued her shirt to her back. She checked her watch. Ten minutes had gone by. Ten minutes. How long did it take to get someone?

She felt her cheeks redden at a sudden thought. The man was half naked when he answered the door. Did she catch them at a intimate moment? The perverse thought painted an image of white seed running down the back of the guy's thighs. It made her feel sick. It was a well known secret that Astrathrope had...unique equipment.

The door opened and she frowned in irritation as the cookie munching fox appeared. By his lopsided grin he couldn't have cared in the slightest if she melted. The bastard even changed his clothes. He now wore a black T-shirt and khaki cargo shorts. She noticed the hat was gone, revealing chin length raven hair, trimmed in a undercut. The only thing he hadn't changed was his sunglasses.

"Okay," he bit into another cookie, this time a large chocolate one sprinkled with powdered sugar, "let's go."

Dorreta blinked, furrowing her brows in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"I take cash only."

She shook her head bewildered. "Hold on, what's going on here? I'm here for an Astrathrope named Revere Wilder."

He ignored the question. Instead, he maddeningly parted those soft lips to finish off the rest of his cookie. He did not envelope his mouth around the morsel however; a slender forked tongue curled around the remains of the pastry, then slithered back home behind shiny white teeth.

She stood there shocked, frozen in place.

He chewed and swallowed.

"You're..." Alton fought back a wave of nausea. "You're Mr. Wilder?"

As if to answer her question he flicked the grotesque tongue from between his lips once more, shutting the door behind him. Dorreta watched as it expanded outwards, scenting the air. The texture of his tongue looked smooth and dark as a whip, yet it moved in a liquid grace that only something alive could accomplish. Axworthy mentioned the black muscle earlier...a snake indeed.

She wasn't aware she had been staring until the bizarre muscle slipped back between his lips. Nor was she aware how close he stood beside her, she could almost feel his body heat radiating through her clothes. She was embarrassed of how much she wanted to take the sweaty garments off. To take his off.

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry?" Her voice felt dry.

He pushed the sunglasses up, resting them on his head. "Call me Revere. That or sex god."

Dorreta didn't register the comment, every inch of her skin felt suddenly cold in the summer heat. Two orange eyes so close to the ones that kept her awake at night stared down at her. Like in her nightmares there was no sclera, no valley of white. However there was a difference in those bright irises. Filling the vast space was an odd looking pupil. She had seen a documentary of a Yellow Mongoose on the Discovery Channel once. Revere's were startlingly similar. Where the mongoose's were warm and simple, these eyes were cold and intelligent.

"Fuck." She stepped back. "Fuck, sorry I...you-you tricked me."

"You assumed I was human, I played along."

Anger and shame boiled inside her. How could she even think one of them attractive? How could she still?

She itched to unholster her gun. A snake hidden in flowers is still a snake. Instead she turned and walked to the stairs."Follow me please, I'll drive you to the temple."

He grabbed her arm, it was a gentle touch but she pulled back as if he bit her. He ignored her reaction or just didn't see the challenging look in her eyes.

"The temple? Like the temple on the news? You know how bad that place will stink of Fanger?"

"Hopefully after this there won't be any Fanger to smell."

He frowned shrugging. "I want double my usual fee."

She sighed, Ira's impatience snagging on her subconscious. "I'll give you three times your usual if you just come with me."

"Naughty, I like that."

She blinked up at him, heat rising throughout her face. "Oh for fu-I meant in the car."

"Be a little cramped in the backseat, don't ya think?" He smiled tilting his head, examining her flushed face. "What's your name again, cutie?"

She raised an eyebrow at his endearment.

He raised an eyebrow back.

"I'm Dorreta, but Detective Alton to you."

He put his hands on his hips narrowing his eyes at her. "Dorreta? What is that, the feminine form of Doritos?" His awful tongue flicked out lazily. "You come in Cool Ranch flavor?"

-

"Jesus," Revere hissed as they turned a corner. "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

She turned up her radio. He watched her from the corner of his eye, keeping the majority of his attention on the road. Her own eyes were guarded...frightened. It brightened the cool green of them. He could smell her fear, anger and puzzlingly her arousal.

'What the hell was so arousing about going a hundred miles per hour?' Revere thought.

She sped up even further, flowing through traffic like a woman possessed. A truck the size of a planet honked at her as she cut it off, going on a feeder road off the highway.

"Yep, definitely trying to kill me, Doritos."

"Don't call me that."

"Shit," he braced himself as she flew past a stop sign. "It's not my fault you're named after a chip."

'I should have taken my car,' he thought. How many times must he be reminded that girls can't drive before he is splattered on the pavement? Teaching Sam to drive a stick shift in Frank's parking lot had been a nightmare.

"Red light."

She rolled her eyes slamming her foot to the floor.

He crouched low, flattening himself in the passenger's seat."Red light."

They approached the stoplight.

"Red light!"

A horn screamed in his ear.

"Motherfucker!" He closed his eyes clutching his loose black hair.

After a moment he peeked an eye open. Surprisingly, they were still driving. He was alive. He felt over his body making sure everything was intact before he looked in the rearview mirror. Two cars just missed sandwiching him to pieces.

He looked over at Doritos, her brown hair flapping in the wind, her beautiful heart shaped face was smiling, smiling.

"Crazy," he gasped tasting his fear in the air. "You're c-crazy Doritos."

Her smile grew wider and he noticed a shiny thin impression above her lip, he recognized it as a microform cleft. She slammed on the breaks, causing him to hit his head on the dash.

She glared at him. "I'm not a chip."

He nodded hastily. "No, 'course not. I'll call you Princess Hotcop for now on, okay? Just...just slow the fuck down."

She looked down at him with a forced down grin. "We're here."

Revere blinked, and peered out the window. Across the street was the Temple of Eternal Life. He scented the air. It smelled of human hate and fear, along with Fanger. He scratched his nose.

"Stinks."

She pulled her keys out of the ignition and got out.

He rolled his tongue in his mouth, trying to get the taste out as he pulled his hair in a sloppy bun at the crown of his head.

He adjusted his sunglasses in the rearview mirror, making sure they covered his eyes. If there was one thing humans didn't like more than vampires trying to play God, it was monsters fucking with Jesus's virgin birth.

He followed the Detective down a marble path. A large white building perched at the end of it. The building looked unfinished, smooth with no windows in sight. The smell of Fanger wafted from every pore of the place, even the closely trimmed grass.

"Fucking stinks."

"Yes, you've said as much."

Revere sighed. For someone so beautiful she sure was a stick up the ass.

A bald hawk of a man wearing a black suit strode towards them. He was taller than Revere's six foot two, and could have possibly even reached seven feet. His brown eyes were piercingly nonhuman, the smell of the man's sweat told Revere otherwise. Human sweat smelled like pork that had been left out in the sun all day. The man smelt like a pig roast.

"Alton."

"West."

"That's the guy, Sergeant." A man wearing a brown wrinkled suit with close cropped blond hair said happily. "That's the Abam-Astrathrope I was talking about."

'Nice save,' Revere thought. He cocked his head and frowned. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The man blinked, ears reddening. "Oh, I'm Lieutenant Axworthy. We met briefly yesterday." At Revere's blank stare he continued. "Sinclair's neighbor."

Revere's frown deepened then broke into a grin. "Oh yeah, Jimmy's Dad." Axworthy's welcoming face faltered, Revere had seen that look before, protective, maternal. "Great kid you got there, needs to work on his kickflips."

Axworthy smiled ever so slightly. "And his manners. I should apolog-"

"No." Revere snapped."No, you shouldn't." The boy called him cool, cool. "He was just curious."

The Sergeant glided closer. "Mr. Wilder, I trust Detective Alton briefed you?"

Revere nodded, letting the Mr. Wilder thing slide for now. He could tell this Sergeant West was an impatient sort. If he was the one in the suit he'd be impatient too.

"Have you dealt with Black Out before? Dogs haven't learned to sniff it out quite yet. If you are wasting my time...you better tell me now."

Revere bit back a witty retort. "I have."

He had only a few Black Out calls in the five years since he created Drug Breaker. The most recent call was a girl who had bites on her like a junkie. It was said that Black Out lets a Fanger's victim go along for the ride and heightened the vampire's control over them or something. He really didn't care about knowing the specifics. All he cared to know was that it fucked up the human using it.

The girl thought she was in love, said she wanted to have the tick's babies. The boyfriend had made the call, her real one. The guy was so grateful he had kept in touch. The newly married couple sent him a lemon pie on his twenty-fifth birthday.

Honestly, he had no idea why dogs had such a hard time finding the stuff. Black Out smelled sweet almost sour, quite close to lemons in fact. But it had a crisp smell at the end that was very distinctive. When he smelled it for the first time it made him feel an odd sense of belonging, of home. It frightened him, no other smell besides cookies made him feel that way. The musk of Fanger that usually accompanied the drug like a second skin almost stifled the feeling, almost.

"I must warn you that you might feel peculiar in the Temple," West said adjusting his tie.

"Well I've never been one for cults or religion in general."

"Neither have I." The man's large hand gripped his shoulder. "But silver crucifixes are not likely a concern here. I'm talking about illusions, glamour. Your kind are resistant but-"

Revere shook his head, noticing the slight clench of the older man's jaw at being interrupted.

"Glamour has never influenced my sense of smell before, or anything else for that matter."

"Really?" West looked thoughtful. "The owner is a Master class from Dallas, I wouldn't underestimate him."

"Well I've a Master class nose, so let's bust the fucker."

The Sergeant blinked down at him, smiling in amusement. "I think we'll get along just fine, Mr. Wilder."

Revere shrugged his hand off, annoyed, "Call me Mr. Wilder again and we ain't gettin' along at all." He walked forward glancing down at where his jeans blessedly hid his mangled thighs. Mr. Wilder was not a nice man.

The Sergeant stood there, eyebrows raised. He was obviously not used to people talking to him in such a way, or just horrified at Revere's grammar.

"Now you're wasting my time. Don't have all day, Sergeant."

-

Dorreta watched the two men in front of her as they walked to the gates of the temple. One young, disinterested in his surroundings. The other predatory, curious. Ira's eyes examined the man beside him with barely contained glee. She had never seen Ira give that look to anything before; The look of an ancient being who just found something fresh, something new he could sink his fangs into. It was worrying.

It didn't surprise her that Ira Cross had stayed in control of West. The fall of this temple was something she knew he'd been looking forward to for some time. She felt sympathy for her friend, though. She had been under that content fog before. West would be able to hear, feel and see everything but yet have no control of his actions. It felt as if you were in a dream, watching yourself from the outside. But you get what you pay for, and everyone pays for Ira Cross one way or another.

A woman in a high collared red robe met them at the mouth of the temple. She was young, pale, fed upon, and by her superior gaze deeply delusional. She, like all the others, truly believed she would be saved.

"Priestess Rosa."

"Sergeant." She arched a manicured brow. "Your dogs found nothing. Why are you still here?"

"We brought in a specialist for a second opinion. This-"West gestured towards the Astrathrope-"is Revere Wilder."

Rosa focused her eyes on Revere.

He smiled, waving down at her.

"Would you be interested in joining the life young man? You have a mesmerizing aura. You would do well here under Rateliff's care and guidance."

"I'm no Fanger's bitch." Revere said lightly as if commenting on the weather.

Dorreta coughed down a laugh. Axworthy less subtle, cackled stupidly.

Rosa, not amused, slapped Wilder. Hitting him so hard she tore his sunglasses off, shattering them on the marble floor. "How dare you desecrate the gates of the temple with your foul mouth!" Rosa held his jaw in a steel grip. "Didn't your mother teach you manners?"She touched a finger across one of his high cheekbones, focusing on one of his otherworldly eyes. "Killed her did you? Shame she couldn't teach you how to be a real man."

The atmosphere filled with a slick stillness. It dripped on Dorreta's skin. She inched a finger near her holster. It was reassuring, as if she were a child clutching a favorite stuffed toy.