Duel Nature (5 page)

We drove east by northeast, getting
occasionally good views of the breaking dawn. Just outside
Milwaukee we pulled into an industrial park, following the street
signs and the GPS till we found a non-descript building that could
have housed a manufacturing company, a small warehouse or a cluster
of corporate offices. A human employee, male, middle-aged, met us
at the front of the building and directed me to drive around to the
array of overhead doors that lined one side of the building. He
raised the closest door and we drove into a vast space that held
ten vehicles in its center. Shelving units, dimly visible in the
back, were laden with supplies of unknown type and origin.

The attendant, who was about five foot, eight
with a balding head, compact build and the beginnings of a paunch,
pointed at an empty parking slot between a dark blue, new model
Camaro and a large white Tahoe. As I got out of the Suburban, he
handed me the keys to the Tahoe and held out his hand for my keys,
all without saying a word.

“Morning,” I said, trying to catch his eye,
but he just nodded and looked down. Tanya got out and stretched
lithely, causing the reticent caretaker to about burst an eyeball.
His eyes got even wider when I opened the back and a giant wolf
form jumped lightly to the ground. He still never said a word, just
took down a tablet computer and started checking in the Suburban
like this was Avis or something.

It took less than five minutes to transfer
our stuff and then we were rolling back out into the new day, all
without ever saying a word to the facility’s caretaker.

“Is that normal?” I asked Tanya.

“Hmm?” she replied, sleepy.

“That facility or warehouse…does the Coven
keep many places like that?” I clarified.

“Yes, hundreds, at least in this country,
thousands all over the world,” she answered.

“Are they always manned by a creepy silent
guy?” I asked.

“They all have a well paid staff that keeps
the vehicles maintained and the supplies current. Such people are
specifically selected to be…how should we say it? Lacking
curiosity?” she said, opening one gorgeous blue eye to meet my gaze
in the rearview mirror. “They’re manned twenty-four, seven,
three-sixty-five. He would have received a fax or email, sometimes
a phone call informing him of our arrival and needs.”

“And if we needed weapons?” I asked.

She closed her eye and snorted. Of course
there would be pre-stockpiled weapons, silly me!

“
He probably has a military
background,” I commented.

“We recruit retiring military logistic and
supply personnel. They’re really well paid for a job that’s easier
than the one they held in the military. Each facility has enough
personnel that no one is overworked.”

“What about shrinkage?” I asked, referring to
theft.

“Everything is computer inventoried with
regular audits. The people we hire have to have squeaky clean
backgrounds, not a hint of trouble. Occasionally, one of the audits
will include a mindreader type.”

“Have there ever been any problems?” I
asked.

“Of course. People are people,” she
replied.

“What happened?” I asked.

“The problems went away,” she said,
sleepily.

I sometimes forget that the love of my life
is a vampire, a pure predator. She’s not really a cruel sort, but
she has killer instinct by the gallon, it’s part and parcel of who
she is. She doesn’t like vampires to kill humans with wanton
disregard, but when the situation merits it, she is not
squeamish.

Time to change the subject.

“Do you ever get tired of older vampires not
taking us seriously?” I asked, thinking of how much trouble could
have been avoided if Langsford hadn’t been so blinded by Tanya’s
age.

“You have no idea!” she replied, her voice no
longer sounding tired. “What none of them realize is that I was in
my mother’s womb, unchanging for over two hundred years. Every
experience and situation Galina went through, I was there too.”

“You absorbed those experiences?” I asked,
completely taken off-guard.

“Yes….when I encounter a new situation, I
almost always have some sense or feeling of how to deal with
it…like I’ve done it before. Not really a full memory, more like
the ghost of a memory,” she said.

“I never knew that!” I said, glancing at her
in the rearview. Both blue eyes looked back at me.

“I don’t think I’ve ever thought much about
it. It has just always been there.”

We both fell silent, each thinking our own
thoughts.

Chapter 5

The ferry that crosses Lake Michigan is a
modern high-speed vessel that traverses the width of Great Lake up
to four times daily, with each trip taking about two and a half
hours. Because its operations fall under the supervision of the US
Coast Guard, security is pretty tight. Passengers travelling on
foot from Milwaukee to Muskegon pass through an airport type
screening, while vehicles like our Tahoe get their own thorough
inspection.

“Any firearms or dangerous substances in the
vehicle Sir?” the security guard asked as we both stood, along with
his black lab bomb-sniffing dog, outside the SUV.

“No but I have a beast,” I said with a grin
as I opened the back tailgate, revealing Awasos in wolf form.

“Holy shit! What the hell is that? A pony?”
he asked, scrambling back as the big wolf jumped down. The black
lab whined and cringed when Awasos sniffed him, but relaxed
slightly when the much bigger animal ignored him to come meet the
guard.

“Well, we’re not entirely sure. He may have
some pony in his bloodline for all we know. He’s pretty much a
mutt. Aren’t you buddy?” I responded before continuing. “We
notified the office when we made our reservations that we had a
canine. He’ll ride in the Tahoe, of course.”

“Yes, well dogs and Dire wolves aren’t
allowed on deck so that’s where he’ll have to stay. How much does
he weigh?”

“A bit over two hundred,” I said, deciding
that fifty pounds here or there wasn’t a big deal. Another guard
came over, whistling in awe as he sized up Awasos.

The first guard had relaxed a bit as he took
in the calm attitude of the giant canine who was leaning his bulk
against me and wagging his tail. Awasos does a great ‘doggy’
impersonation when the situation warrants it. Plus I think he
honestly likes most people.

“Can I pet him?” the first guard asked, the
second one interested in my response.

“Sure, he loves it,” I answered, moving to
open Tanya’s door. She opened her eyes sleepily then took my hand
as I ‘helped’ her out. It would honestly have been ideal if she
could have stayed in the car with Awasos and slept, but the Coast
Guard rules forbade it, so she and I would move to the passenger
cabin for the duration.

The guards caught an eyeful of my lifemate
and promptly forgot Awasos, the car, the other passengers and their
jobs. I held her hand while forking over both our drivers’
licenses, playing the role of dutiful husband. Honestly, I probably
would have held her hand anyway, my possessive side coming out in
the face of their wide-eyed admiration for her appearance.

The second guard studied the ID’s – well
Tanya’s ID anyway, while the first just stared.

Slim and curvy in expensive jeans and a
designer tee, Tatiana looked like a movie star or fashion model,
capturing the attention of pretty much everyone within
eyesight.

The guards forgot about me completely as I
stood with Awasos. Crouching down next to his massive shoulder I
pointed at a rack of life vests tucked in an overhead compartment
on the vehicle deck. “If something happens with the boat, get a
couple of those around you, got it?” I told him. A tongue like a
handkerchief licked my face. It looked like something any dog would
do, but I knew he understood me. Awasos is so much more intelligent
than any animal I had met or heard of including, in my estimation,
chimps, dolphins, and more than half the human race. He understood
complex instructions and directions and was able to convey his own
thoughts through body language and vocal expression. He often
seemed to know what I needed him to do before I did. He jumped back
into the SUV just as an officer of the boat spotted him and came
over with a concerned look on his face. Before he could express his
opinion on the matter of having a giant wolf onboard, his attention
was captured by Tanya who immediately charmed him into
distraction.

Legend has it that vampires can twist humans
to their own desires. The folklore usually involves mind powers
that cloud the victims mind like a Jedi using the Force. While
there did exist a small number of vampires with the ability to
mentally force behavior changes, they were very rare. One named
Desiderio Reyes had majorly impacted my life before Tanya killed
him.

But every vampire I had ever met had an
innate form of charm and a personal attractiveness that usually
worked almost as well as Obi-wan Kenobi. And if a run of the mill
vampire had a strong dose, then Tanya’s personal allotment was off
the charts.

Both security guards and the ship’s officer
had completely forgotten any concerns or basic screening procedures
when faced with my vampire’s dazzling smile. All three had a
slightly stunned look on their faces as I finished closing up the
Tahoe and moving to Tanya’s side.

“Thank you so much gentlemen! I feel so much
better now about the trip. You must think me awfully silly for
being worried?” she said to the three stricken men.

“Oh, no ma’am. Not at all. Lake Michigan is a
big body of water, but this is the finest ferry on it and we’ll get
you across safe and sound, don’t you worry!” the ship’s officer was
saying.

“There, dear, feel better?” I asked my role
playing partner.

The three men looked at me in annoyance for
interrupting their chance to win her attention. I’ve seen the same
effect with men and beautiful women time and again. It was just
magnified to ridiculous proportions in this case.

Tanya executed a smooth disengagement,
thanking them all profusely as I guided her up the passageway to
the ship’s main cabin. Neither of us had been fully screened for
weapons, which was a good thing in Tanya’s case as she had several
blades on her. I didn’t bother with weapons this time as my ability
to modify my strange purple aura into edges, spikes and particle
beams seemed more than sufficient.

We found seats against one bulkhead in the
first class section of the ship and Tanya promptly curled into the
plush chair with my sweatshirt as a pillow and fell asleep.
Passengers milled about, finding and settling into their personal
spaces. Businessmen, families with kids, retirees and tourists all
swirled about the main cabin. Below us, on the auto deck, the last
vehicles were being loaded. Heads swiveled to look out the rear
windows at the last car to come aboard as something interesting
captured their attention. A pair of young corporate types in suits
were sipping Starbucks coffee and watching the drama, whatever it
was. I focused my ears on them, blocking the other conflicting
sounds of the compartment out, one by one, till I could hear their
conversation.

“What happened?” one asked the other who had
apparently seen more.

“That van, the dark one at the end? The dudes
inside were giving the security guys a hard time about checking
over their van. Hey look at that – the bomb dog really doesn’t like
them!” the other businessman said, voice rising slightly in
excitement. Outside I could hear the black lab’s bark and his
handler’s sharp command.

Bomb dogs don’t bark when they find
something. Instead, they usually are trained to sit or turn in a
circle or otherwise show an olfactory hit. Barking was very unusual
in such a highly trained animal.

“Those guys look pretty shifty to me,” the
first corporate ladder-climber responded. “They probably have drugs
or something they don’t want found.”

“You might be right, look how jittery they
all are,” his friend responded.

Something about the word jittery caught my
attention, but then the loudspeakers announced departure and the
passengers all swarmed to their seats.

The crew cast off and the ferry pulled
carefully away from the dock, powerful engines revving as the pilot
maneuvered us out into open water. It was the ship’s first run of
the day and the crew was mostly cheerful as they handled the
business of transporting over forty cars, trucks, motorcycles and a
couple hundred passengers from one state to the next.

The ship’s café was open for business and I
headed up to continue the never ending battle against my own
metabolism. My doctor, who is a specialist in vampire and were
physiology, thinks that I could potentially survive on boot leather
if I had too. My digestive system has become so efficient and
aggressive that it virtually rips anything organic into potential
nutrients. Thankfully, this morning’s menu was more like egg,
bacon, and cheese sandwiches (six), danishes(five) , two cartons of
milk and a sixteen ounce bottle of orange juice. It beat the hell
out of chowing down on my Timberlands.

My bag of goodies in hand I settled next to
my sleeping vampire, ignoring the stares of people who were either
appalled at my caloric intake or fascinated by my violet eyes and
supermodel-looking girlfriend.

Halfway through my fourth breakfast sandwich,
a crew member came in through the outside door from the coach class
passenger area, a cool breeze following him. The lake moistened air
washed over my face and I paused in mid-bite. Mixed in with the
diesel fumes, the fishy smell of Lake Michigan and the metallic
smell of dozens of cars, was an odor that caught my immediate
attention. Just a whiff, but unmistakable in its rank, musky
signature. Almost skunk-like, but different. Weasel!