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Carpe Noctem Book Three
Never the Twain Chapter Twelve
by Lianne Burwell
April 2002
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Mac drove while Vic kept trying to reach Jackie. By the time 
they'd reached the car, the connection had gone down and every 
attempt to call her cell had come back with an error message 
telling them that her cell was either out of range or not turned 
on.

After this, Vic started dialing different numbers. Unfortunately, 
Dobrinsky had stopped answering *his* phone, although it did 
ring. The Director also wasn't taking calls. He finally called 
the surveillance weenies. "Did Jackie Janczyk get wired?" he said 
as soon as the phone was picked up, before the person on the 
other end could get a word in edgewise.

"And hello to you to," an irritated voice responded. "Yes she 
did. Bitch." The last was muttered, and Vic decided to ignore it 
for the time being.

"Well, fire up your equipment and tell me where she is."

"What, she get lost on the way home?" The tone in the woman's 
voice was downright nasty, and Vic found himself rolling his 
eyes, wondering just what Jackie had done to piss her off. Of 
course, sometimes it seemed that Jackie did that just by 
breathing. Talent. And looks, probably.

But they didn't have time for that. "Just do it," he said through 
gritted teeth.

"Fine, fine. Sheesh." There was silence for a few moments, other 
than the clicking of keyboard keys that he could hear easily 
through the phone. "Well, if she's lost, she did a good job of 
it. She's out in the parking lot. Shall I send someone to lead 
her to her car?" The sarcasm almost dripped from her voice.

"No thanks," Vic snapped, and turned the phone off. "You heard?"

Mac took a corner at speeds that would have gotten them pulled 
over if it wasn't the wee hours of the morning. Instead, the 
streets were deserted, and there wasn't a cop around, so he could 
drive like a maniac if he wanted, just as long as he got them 
where they were going as fast as possible. Vic wasn't about to 
complain. "I heard," the younger man said tersely, not taking his 
eyes off the road or his foot off the gas.

It was only a few minutes later that they were screeching into 
the tiny parking lot outside the Agency office's entrance. There 
was only one car there -- most employees of the organization used 
public transit and the tunnels that connected the transit system 
to the Agency's lower levels. It was Jackie's. She and Mac had 
the same taste in cars, Vic thought to himself. Red and sporty, 
with no space for more than one passenger.

Mac pulled into a spot close to Jackie's car, but not too close, 
and they got out. Almost immediately, the smell of blood and 
rotting flesh was overwhelming in the warm night air. "Shit," Mac 
said, walking towards the car, looking like he'd rather be 
anywhere else. Vic took advantage of the fact that he didn't 
really need to breathe "Oh, yuck," Mac said, looking a little 
green.

Yuck was a good term for it. The dead man behind the wheel of 
Jackie's car looked like he'd been dead for the better part of a 
week. Part of that was the heat, but still, the decomposition was 
too advanced for it to be natural. Especially since they'd spoken 
with the man only a few days earlier.

Vic pulled out the cellphone yet again and hit the speed dial for 
a number he didn't use much, but which was programmed into all 
agents' cellphones. "Housekeeping? There's a dead cop on our 
doorstep. You might want to clean it up." He hung up before the 
Agency's cover-up staff could protest. They usually dealt with 
making sure that no one paid to much attention to the Agency's 
people or equipment. They didn't normally deal with dead bodies, 
but they didn't have much choice. If he was left for the cops to 
find, it would attract all the wrong attention.

"I gotta say, it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy," Mac 
said, the dark humor in his voice at odds with the strained 
expression on his face.

Part of Vic agreed with him, but the rest of him was sick at the 
sight of Detective McKenzie's mutilated body. Between the blood 
and the decay, it was almost impossible to recognize him, but the 
size and the suit were right. Ditto for the oversized ring on his 
pinkie. The only thing was, what the hell was he doing in 
Jackie's car at the Agency? And where was Jackie?

Vic turned, scanning the small lot. Their car and Jackie's were 
the only ones around, and there was no sign of life. On the 
ground next to the driver's side of the car was a tiny smear of 
blood, but it wasn't enough to be a serious wound. He dropped to 
one knee next to the blood stain and bent down to look under the 
car. There he found a jumble of items, and he fished them out.

Jackie's purse. A crushed cellphone. A mess of wires that was 
obviously the equipment Jackie was *supposed* to be wearing so 
that they didn't lose her. It hadn't done any good.

"Why kill McKenzie?" Mac asked, still staring at the car.

"Who knows," Vic replied, standing up again. Outwardly, at least, 
he tried to maintain his calm. "Maybe he got too close."

"Then why dump him in Jackie's car? It doesn't make any sense!"

A small group was emerging from the Agency's doors, and Vic 
pulled Mac away from the car. The items he had found, he stuffed 
into Jackie's purse to bring with them. "Do you think it was 
Sanji?" he asked.

Mac looked at him like he had grown two heads. "What do you 
think?" Mac said, each word cut off sharply as it came out of his 
mouth.

"Exactly what you think. He grabbed Jackie and left McKenzie. 
That means McKenzie's body is probably a warning. He's been 
watching us. He probably saw the confrontation outside of the 
Ceramic Arts co-op."

"The killer was *watching* us?" Mac said, swallowing hard. "I 
don't think I like that idea."

"You and me both," Vic muttered, leaning against his car while 
the housekeeping team quickly and efficiently removed the body 
from the car and took it away. The car itself was probably going 
to end up at the bottom of Lake Ontario, well out from shore. 
McKenzie would no doubt go in the books at the PD as a missing 
person, case never solved. The only real worry was that McKenzie 
might have told someone about talking to Mac and Vic. That could 
make them suspects, which would be a pain in the ass.

"So now what? We have to find Jackie!" Mac took a deep breath. 
"Shit. I mean, we knew she was a target, but it was supposed to 
be a week between victims. What changed things?"

"I don't know," Vic said, staring into the distance, suddenly 
wishing for a cigarette to calm his nerves, even though he hadn't 
smoked since LiAnn had insisted that he lose the disgusting 
habit. Then he straightened up. "But we better figure out fast. 
Only problem is, I'm all out of ideas."

Mac was silent for a moment, then elbowed him. "I've got one, but 
it's a long shot. Let's go."

>>>~~~<<<

Mac drove quickly, heading for the house he'd only been to twice. 
The streets were nearly dead, only an hour before sunrise, but it 
was an eerie feeling, like the world was holding its breath. He 
didn't really believe that they were going to find Jackie before 
sunrise drove them inside, and Vic knew it too, but they had to 
hope that the change in pattern meant that they had time. 
Otherwise, they were going to wake up to find out that her body 
had been dumped in an alleyway, assuming that it didn't end up a 
pile of dust from sun exposure. His stomach turned at the 
thought, and he pushed any images of Jackie being dead aside. 
Think positive, he told himself.

Sofia's house was dark when they arrived, but it had been that 
way when he'd arrived the previous night. Any lights in the 
kitchen wouldn't be visible from the front of the house anyway. 
He pulled up to the curb and headed for the door at a run.

Vic caught up with him as he knocked on the door. There was no 
answer. After a moment, he knocked a little louder. No matter how 
much he strained, he couldn't hear any indication of movement 
inside.

"Damn," he muttered to himself, pulling out his wallet. Tucked 
into a hidden pocket were his lock picks. He extracted them 
carefully and used them to get the door open. Surprisingly, there 
were no horrified comments or demands for explanations from Vic. 
Vic had definitely loosened up since they'd first met.

Inside, it was pitch black. He tried the light-switch, but either 
there was no power or there were no light bulbs in the fixtures. 
He had a bad feeling about this. He headed for the kitchen.

The room was exactly as he remembered, but again, the light 
switch didn't work. The skin on the back of his neck was starting 
to crawl as he opened cupboards. He found all the dishes that had 
been there that morning, and the now dead fridge was stocked with 
food, already starting to turn in the heat.

"Mac, all the rooms are empty, full of dust, and there's no one 
around. Why are we here?" Vic said, appearing at the doorway.

Ignoring him for the moment, Mac headed for the basement. A quick 
check, impossible without Kindred night-vision, found the room 
he'd spent the day in, exactly as he remembered but smelling 
musty. He hadn't noticed the smell before. Mac ran his fingers 
through his hair, trying to order his thoughts. Then he headed 
back upstairs.

"Sun's going to be up in just over half an hour," Vic said. "We 
better get going."

Mac nodded silently and followed him back out to the car, letting 
Vic get behind the wheel this time. They drove silently, well 
aware of the several clocks ticking. Sunrise. Jackie. The police 
potentially coming after them when they realized McKenzie had 
vanished. All of these things were hanging over their heads.

The morning lassitude was already starting to affect him by the 
time Vic pulled into his parking spot outside their building. Mac 
could barely find the energy to get inside, but they made it to 
their apartment before the sun came up.

They fed quickly from the blood supply in the fridge, then 
undressed -- Mac needed Vic's help to finish -- and climbed into 
bed.

"So why were we at that house?" Vic asked.

"Sofia's place. Remember she boosted the pendant?" Mac said 
sleepily, tugging at the pendant that he'd left hanging around 
his neck, pretty sure that he'd told Vic about that along with 
everything else.

"Yeah?"

"'S giving me visions. Thought maybe could get the right vision. 
Where Jackie is. Sanji. LiAnn. We aren't going to stop this 
without help. But don't know how to control it. Thought she 
might." He wasn't sure how coherent he was, but Vic nodded.

"We'll worry about that tonight. Go to sleep."

He sounded like he was humoring Mac, which made Mac frown. "Gonna 
try to dream. Dreamt you fighting Kata in Frisco."

"Go to sleep, Mac," Vic said, kissing his forehead.

Mac pressed against his lover seeking full body contact, the 
pendant pressed between them, and let the sunlight outside lull 
him into unconsciousness.

>>>~~~<<<

Jackie moaned softly as the darkness slowly receded. She had a 
pounding headache, and every muscle in her body was pins and 
needles. She tried to move, and that small motion send shockwaves 
up and down her spine. Gasping, she went limp again.

"Hello, Jackie."

The voice was familiar, and when she forced open crusty eyes, she 
was somehow unsurprised to see Sanji crouched next to her, 
looking down. She opened her mouth, already planning her words 
carefully to try and defuse the situation, but all that came out 
was a strangled sound. She swallowed and tried again. "Where am 
I?" she croaked through a dry throat.

"My home," Sanji said. He tucked a hand under her and levered her 
up into a seated position. She bit her lip to keep from letting 
him know just how much that hurt, but the small smile on his face 
told her that he knew *exactly* what she was feeling. "Or perhaps 
I should say, my home away from home, since I have no intention 
of being in this city any longer than necessary."

The prickling feeling was already starting to fade, although the 
headache didn't, and after a moment she was on her feet, although 
she was leaning heavily on the man. He supported her across the 
room and sat her on a straight backed chair. Feeling better, she 
was finally able to take in her surroundings, and what she saw 
didn't reassure her.

The room they were in looked like it had been through an inferno, 
literally. The walls were stained with soot, and the wallpaper 
was hanging in long strips, stained by water. The floor was 
missing in places, and the lingering scent of smoke made her nose 
twitch. She wanted to sneeze, but held it in, even though she 
felt like her head was going to explode, not wanting to show 
anything that might be considered a weakness in front of the 
other man.

"Better?" Sanji asked, standing next to her, stroking her head. 
Remembering Mac's sketch, she had to fight to keep from 
flinching. He was as handsome as she remembered, but all she 
could see was blood dripping from his hands.

"A bit," she said reluctantly. "What happened?" She remembered 
talking with Mac, then getting outfitted with electronic 
surveillance equipment, although a discrete check told her that 
the wires were gone, so no one was going to be using them to 
track her. Then... She frowned. She was heading home, since it 
was too close to dawn to actually do anything. She'd reached her 
car and...

Her eyes went wide. "There was a dead body in my car!" she said. 
Damnit, she'd liked that car, but there was no way she was ever 
getting into it again. Even if they ripped out the entire 
interior and complete redid it, she wasn't going to have anything 
to do with it.

"I was doing you a favor," Sanji said, smiling, and for a moment 
she had the impression of pointed teeth. Not fangs, like a 
vampire, but needle-like. Shark-like. She swallowed hard and 
tried not to twist in her seat as the man circled around her. 
Shark metaphors were not good right now.

"A favor?"

"When you met with the two pretty boys, earlier, he was watching 
you, all full of malice. I took care of him before he could cause 
you trouble. Wasn't that nice of me?"

Chills were running through her, despite the heat. He sounded 
like he actually expected her to be grateful. "Yeah, very nice. 
Who the hell was he?"

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not," she replied, biting the inside of her cheek. "So 
where have you been? I've been looking for you."

"I know." He smiled again, this time without showing teeth, 
thankfully. He slid around behind her, and this time she twisted, 
trying to keep him in view. The hairs on the back of her neck 
were standing on end, and the air seemed to crackle. 
"Anticipation makes the experience more... pleasurable, does it 
not?"

His breath was hot against her cheek, and smelled faintly of... 
Well, she wasn't sure what it smelled of, just that it made her 
stomach clench, and not in a good way. Not the way LiAnn had made 
her stomach clench the night before. "If you say so," she said 
cautiously.

Sanji laughed. "So careful. So beautiful." He stroked her hair 
ever so carefully, and she twitched with the need to jerk away. 
"Normally I would have nothing to do with your kind, but for you, 
I might make an exception."

"My kind? What, you don't like blondes?" She tossed her hair back 
over her shoulders, and he laughed.

"Oh, come now. Do you think I didn't know what you are, drinker 
of blood? And yet, you are tempting. Perhaps my master will let 
me keep you when I return to his realm."

"Master?" she asked, trying to keep cool. If she kept her head, 
he might tell her more.

Sanji's eyes seemed to glow. "The greatest of the lords. The one 
who saved me. The one who sent me. I do his bidding in 
everything. And none will stop me from completing my task." He 
stroked her cheek gently, and this time she did jerk away. "What, 
am I so repulsive? That's not what you thought before. Or perhaps 
you prefer..." He straightened, and his entire body seemed to 
shimmer. A moment later, Sanji was gone and LiAnn stood in his 
place. At least it looked like LiAnn, but the glow in her eyes 
was the same as Sanji's, and Jackie swallowed hard. Was he 
suggesting that *he* was the one she'd been with the previous 
night? She shook her head, refusing to believe it.

Sanji, in LiAnn's form, moved around and straddled her lap. He... 
she... it settled down, hands on Jackie's shoulder, and leaned 
down until their lips were almost touching. The smell was even 
stronger now, and she was certain that no matter what it 
suggested, it wasn't the one she'd slept with. LiAnn's breath 
hadn't been anything like that.

Sanji grinned, then forced a parody of a kiss on her lips. Jackie 
reached up to try to push it away, but her hands were quickly 
pinned to her side, and she had to stay still while it finished 
the kiss, then ran its tongue along her cheekbone. She shuddered 
at the wet feeling left behind, like slime or something.

Then, suddenly, the weight holding her down was gone, and Sanji 
stood in front of her again. Jackie was relieved to see it no 
longer wearing LiAnn's face.

"I have things to do, so I will see you later. I recommend you 
not leave this room. The sun is coming up, night-walker, and the 
roof of this building is damaged. This room will be safe for you, 
but that is all I can promise. Besides, where would you go?"

Jackie stayed silent as the shapeshifter left the room. An 
instant later, she was on her feet, prowling the perimeter, 
checking for any way out.

A glance out in the hallway told her that it hadn't been lying 
about one thing: with the sky beginning to lighten, she could see 
the holes in what was left of the roof. The building had been 
gutted by a fire, sometime in the recent past. In fact, the only 
part of the building that seemed reasonably intact was the room 
she was in. And since she didn't know where she was, she couldn't 
risk leaving the place and getting caught out in the sun.

Holes in the floor led to a basement, but she wasn't sure she 
wanted to go down there. She could hear things moving around down 
there, and she really didn't want to find out what they were. On 
the other hand, she also didn't want to be a good little girl and 
wait for Sanji to come back. She found the largest gap in the 
flooring and checked it. It would be a tight fit, but she could 
do it.

It took a little squeezing, but she made it, although her blouse 
was going to be a total loss. She'd caught it on a stray 
splinter, and there was a rip from shoulder to wrist. Damnit, 
she'd liked that blouse.  On the other hand, if sacrificing it 
got her out of there, she wasn't going to shed a tear.

The basement was damp concrete walls and a gravel floor, which 
made her glad that she was wearing flat shoes instead of her 
preferred heels. And how old was this place that it didn't have a 
proper basement? She moved carefully around the space, looking 
for any exit or hiding space, trying to ignore the sound of 
scrabbling paws. Some of her brethren liked rats, but as far as 
she was concerned, that was taking the Vampire myth a little too 
far. She wasn't *that* crazy. The Nosferatu were welcome to the 
vermin.

The sun was starting to come up, so she didn't have much time to 
spare. The sky, through a few gaps in the floor above her, was 
definitely getting brighter.

Then, at the far end of the basement she hit possible paydirt. 
She eyes the gap at the bottom of the wall in distaste. It was 
barely big enough to let her through, hunched over, and she 
didn't want to think about what was on the other side, but it was 
some sort of passage way, and she could hear the sound of water 
running. Her guess was that it led to the sewer system or 
something.

From what she could see, the passage had been deliberately made, 
definitely not natural, but by whom or for what purpose she had 
no idea. Still, if it was deliberately made, then it had to be 
passable. At least it had been once, she assumed. That it might 
not be anymore was something she didn't want to think about.

It smelled to high heaven and was pitch black, but she took a 
deep breath, crouched down and squeezed through.

Here went everything.

END CHAPTER TWELVE