The Making of Vampires Ch. 07

I would like to thank my wonderful editors: Griz375, Aisielynn, & two4friends. I'm thrilled at all the mistakes you catch for me. I'd love to vow to make your job easier in the future, but I'm probably going to fail on that vow. Thanks again. You really help the story flow better.

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Life as the Supernatural

~Present day~

The vampire clan and the werewolf clan settled in the poorer side of the city with the higher crime rate. The majority of the vampires became police officers, as their bodies were able to survive bullet wounds as long as their heads remained attached and their hearts remained in their bodies. The majority of the werewolves became firefighters as they had an innate resistance to fire.

Together, the two groups protected their part of the city from crime, human or supernatural. The vampires, under the camouflage of Law Enforcement, dealt with any supernatural foes or threats that endangered their kind from possible discovery. It was efficient and necessary.

Martin Morsus, a member of S.W.A.T., sat at the table in his team's room, quiet as usual. His strange silver eyes piercing any who entered. He kept his hair very short so he didn't have to bother much with styling. He wore a black t-shirt and charcoal tactical pants with the standard S.W.A.T. military boots.

The leader of their unit was Martin's older brother, August. Their other brother, Gabriel, was a detective in the homicide division, partnered with Sophia, his wife. The three brothers didn't look much like brothers. Even their eyes were slightly different shades of gray, with Martin's being that strange silver. Despite their differences, the Morsus brothers were loyal and dedicated to each other, making them a formidable family and strong leaders of their vampires.

Since the merging with his beast, Martin had grown stony and silent. He cared little for personal interactions. Cruelty wasn't a stranger to him. It was a friend to him on more than one interrogation or killing. He was goal oriented and did whatever was needed to complete a task or assignment. Martin had turned into the personification of cold and deadly. He dispatched rogue vampires and rogue werewolves efficiently and without preamble. He did the same to humans under the guise of the law. He had no difficulty forgetting his targets were living beings and had no difficulty dispatching his victims when they were no longer an asset to him.

His brothers always talked to him even if he didn't answer. His nephew, Marcus, shared his day's events with his icy uncle and Suwan, Marcus' wife, always gave Martin a kiss on the cheek whenever she saw him. Few others tried to interact with him. His reputation discouraged casual conversations.

Suwon, dressed in her blues, walked with her husband, also her partner, through the lobby of the police station to the stairs. Marcus looked out the bulletproof glass door of the precinct. Night was falling and he needed to have a clear head to protect his wife on the streets. He hated having Suwon work nights because so many weirdoes came out after it was dark, but most officers at the precinct were on rotational shifts and would have to work nights at various intervals.

A couple years ago, the new captain, Vincent Tinkerton, instituted rotating shifts so no one was stuck on what they would consider an undesirable shift. There were a few permanent positions on each shift, but they came without incentive pay, which the precinct reserved for those who worked the different shifts. Therefore, there was little complaining.

Tinkerton, a third generation officer, fought hard with the police commissioner and the city to have his men paid well since they were in the area with the highest crime rate. He felt the danger alone should warrant hazard pay or special compensation. When he pushed for the incentive pay on rotating shifts, he earned quite a bit of respect from the men under his command.

Marcus placed his arm around Suwon's shoulder and walked with her to the stairs leading up to the S.W.A.T. and detectives' section of the precinct. They would have coffee on the third floor, S.W.A.T. section, before their shift started, and chat with some of the other vampires.

They passed the second floor, the detectives' area, and saw Sophia and Gabriel who would soon go to the third floor as well. On the third floor, they passed the captain's office and, through the glass on his door, saw him talking on the phone as his eyes skimmed printed reports. The captain marked items of interest with a yellow highlighter as he talked.

They walked by the reception desk where Marienta, married to August, sat attending the phones. She would not join them for coffee. She liked her job and could never wait to get started. Marienta relieved her counterpart the moment she entered the building.

She took great care in her appearance, always beautiful. Today, she wore a silver comb in her dark ringlets and her rich mauve lipstick enhanced her flawless, caramel-mocha skin. No one would question why any man would fall in love with her, but August had noticed her loving heart and her stepson, Marcus, loved her more than he had ever loved his biological mother.

Marcus and Suwon entered the room sending greetings to Martin, August, and one of the newer vampires, Bobby, sitting with their coffees. Bobby Grant, a man with blond hair and sparkly green eyes, joined their ranks during World War II. His bravery and noble heart caught Martin's attention and Martin spent considerable effort figuring out how to recruit Bobby, thinking he would be a valuable addition to the vampires.

Unfortunately, before he had time to do so, Bobby took a burst from a German gunner and lay unconscious and dying. Martin did his best, saved the young man's life, and turned Bobby. Martin promised himself that if Bobby regretted it that he, personally, would set the man free in death with his own hands.

After Bobby awoke as a vampire, he readily accepted his new life. Then he tore apart a German battalion on his own in one of the most gruesome and fierce single handled fights that Martin had ever witnessed. No bodies missed the vivisection and he left none intact. Blood and gore covered the enemy camp. Martin understood the need for retaliation; revenge and justice were close brothers, depending on one's perception of the situation. The vampires allowed Bobby to work out his anger and then they all rejoined their battalion as if nothing had occurred.

The German papers reported the incident as a bomb explosion, but there was no evidence of a bomb. The Germans feared that news of the new ally weapon would cause moral to fall and panic their troops so they printed the lie, hoping people would believe it as truth.

The S.W.A.T. unit also contained two humans. Michael Scarpula, who had black hair and dark brown eyes, was the stereotypical tall, dark, and handsome kind of man. He often used his looks to gain what he wanted from women who didn't seem to mind being used in such a fashion. He and Bobby liked electronics and did quite a bit of work together on gadgets they believed would aid their team.

Tony Tinkerton, the second non-vampire, was the spitting image of his father. They were both tall, blond, blue eyed, and both men were muscular. There were minor differences. Vincent had a mustache whereas his son was clean-shaven. Vincent was more serious than his son. Tony was highly motivated and had a strict enforcement policy of the law thinking in terms of black and white. To Tony, there were no gray areas, whereas his father understood that the law couldn't always be enforced in those terms.

Michael and Tony were currently absent from the group. They often arrived minutes before their shifts after talking to others in the precinct. The humans of the team was more social their vampire counterparts.

This S.W.A.T. team was one of the few mixed human-vampire teams. The vampires, through magic or compelling decision-making officers, tried to keep the humans and vampires separated in the precinct to reduce the likelihood of having the vampires discovered. It was hard to explain to a human why a vampire recovered almost immediately from a mortal wound. Those situations required magical intervention to remove the memory from the humans, so it was just easier to have the two groups as separate as possible.

Even though Tony was the captain's son, he had earned his position before his father's promotion, so none of the human officers griped about nepotism. The vampires just didn't care about such things. Nearly every vampire in the city was an underling of the Morsus brothers. The exception was the one who used to be called Uruku, who now adopted the name of Uric Schuler. Uruku, or Uric, was a loyal friend who the Morsus clan had chosen to be their advisor and judge on vampire matters within their clan.

Martin planned to recruit Tony to their ranks when the time was right to reveal their true nature to the younger Tinkerton. Martin and his brothers had invited Tony and a few others to play poker each week. Slowly, they were gaining the younger man's trust. They would reveal their true nature if and when they believed that Tony could accept such a revelation.

Through the years, Martin had become single minded in stopping evil... or his targets. His brothers' feared the reclusiveness of their youngest brother would cause him to fall into the darkness of his inner beasts. So far, Martin traveled a fine line between humanity and malevolence.

It had been Marcus and Suwon who finally convinced Martin to rejoin the world again. Recently, they came up with a game for Martin. They encouraged him to develop seduction skills with women, creating a reason to interact with someone. They explained that it was just another battle skill, so why not practice that as any other.

They encouraged Martin to join them at the local cop bar where the groupies waited for the officers. They suggested starting on a groupie, an easy mark, then working his way up to someone that he could feign interest in and date for social functions.

Martin had been having fun with a pretty groupie, named Emma. She liked cops and she really liked Martin, allowing him to do anything that he wanted with her. He even fed from her, but had to have Marcus or Suwon make the woman forget the feeding. Martin still could not compel humans, no matter how strong he had become, that ability was not at his disposal.

Martin planned to report his prior evening's activities with Emma to the group as he always did. The reports helped him to develop strategies, get feedback, and make sure he was keeping up with the latest trends in the sexual arenas.

Martin lifted his coffee as in salute to Marcus and Suwon as the couple entered. He placed the cup to his lips to drink, but gasped. The paper cup slipped from his hand and he grabbed his gut. He felt the warm blood wash over his hands and the other vampires in the room could see the red oozing liquid spread over his pants and shirt.

Gabriel and Sophia walked in just as Martin lower abdomen blossomed into a bloody flow and Gabriel waved his hand at the door causing it to lock shut. They ran over to the bleeding vampire and tried to examine his wound not understanding its source or cause.

Martin shook his head and his fangs extended. "Don't break my concentration. My bride needs me."

None in the group moved. Martin had lost the woman his beast had chosen for his bride centuries ago. They didn't understand how he could help her now, but they didn't interfere. They did fear that this was the final stage, his mind and body betraying the man, before Martin became a rogue and they had to kill him.

Martin wasn't seeing through his own eyes any longer. He had the ability to force himself into another being's mind and body, but he had not actively pursued this current union. Something pulled him to her, a stranger, but he could tell she was to be his wife. He definitely felt that call, as did his beast.

He felt horrible pain in her stomach and she was lying on her back, on sand. It was nighttime and stars were in the darkened sky. He felt the woman's confusion and her pain. For good or bad, she didn't feel the numbness that can occur when the body is first injured.

She looked around and saw the broken pieces of some type of vehicle, some of it burning. It didn't make sense to her. Martin was certain that she also had a head injury because he felt a throbbing in his own and a trickle of liquid dripped from his ear. He knew it was blood because vampires were much attuned to blood.

He used her ears to listen and he heard three voices talking in a foreign language so he said to her, "Get up, Sweetheart. They are coming." He spoke it aloud and the vampires in the break room looked to one another wondering what Martin saw. He knew she could not hear the foreign language. The men were too far away for her human ears, which meant they couldn't hear her, either. Also, they couldn't see her. She still had time to escape.

The woman tried to stand, but the wound in her stomach hurt too much. She looked down and saw a large, jagged chunk of metal in her stomach. She reached for them, wanted to pull them out.

Martin said loudly, "No! You may bleed out if they are blocking any arteries. Leave them!"

The woman's soft voice asked, "Who are you?"

Martin couldn't tell her the truth that he was a vampire miles away who wanted to be her husband someday. Instead, he said, "I'm a friend who can help, but you have to listen to me." He saw the ground move up and down indicating her nod. He smiled. "Good. Now, you need to find some weapons. Okay?"

The woman asked, "Where?"

Martin believed her to be in a war zone from the vehicle wreckage around her. He understood war and said, "Look on the ground. Walk around and search through the rubble. Maybe something fell out of the truck or jeep you were in."

A strange tune popped into the woman's head. He also saw some images of charts and math equations. He feared her wounds were worse than he had expected, that her mind was too chaotic, and that she would not be able to concentrate enough to get out of danger.

She was confused. "I was in a truck?"

Martin heard the voices growing closer, a danger to her safety. "Hurry. Find some weapons." The images in her mind changed, but the tune remained the same so he asked, "What is that song in your head?"

She said, "It is the theme song to a cartoon, The Flintstones. You made me think of it when you said, 'rubble'. One of the characters in the cartoon was named Barney Rubble."

Martin shook his head. She was very injured. Whose mind jumps around like that?

The woman forced herself to stand. A wave of nausea from the pain caused her to vomit and sweat gathered in droplets on her face. She took a deep breath and walked around searching for weapons. She kicked something in the sand and looked down. Martin recognized it. It was a submachine gun.

Martin called to her. "Sweetheart, pick up the submachine gun. It is at your feet." She bent and felt a stab of pain in her stomach. She pulled at the weapon feeling resistance. He said, "Don't give up. Keep trying." She whimpered, but pulled harder. It popped free, and she staggered barely maintaining her balance. There was an arm attached to it. No body, just the arm.

She was confused and didn't recognize the arm for what it was, and Martin was thankful, as he feared this might prove too traumatic for her. She watched the severed arm drop.

Martin asked, "Are they any clips or any more weapons? You'll need them." He heard the voices growing louder. "Hurry."

The woman stumbled, fighting the pain, looking for another weapon. She approached a larger chunk of metal that Martin assumed was the cab of the vehicle. She looked into it.

Martin clenched his fists as he saw the driver and a passenger, the upper half of each with their lower extremities missing. She didn't understand they were the remains of humans in her dazed state and Martin was now thankful that she had injured her head. He hoped she wouldn't remember any of this.

Martin said to her, "Honey, grab another submachine gun and the pistol lying on the seat." She did as he asked. "Great, now you need to get as far away from this spot as fast as you can."

The submachine guns would harm the enemy. If needed, the pistol would end her life before the enemy caught her. Martin and his beast had already agreed to her possible death. They had been alone a very long time and had survived. They would give up love to keep her from capture and torture by her enemies. They knew the inhumanity that can occur during a war and didn't want her to experience it.

Martin wanted her to prepare one of the submachine guns to fire. "Honey, put one of straps of the weapon over your shoulder so it is ready for use." She appeared confused. "You know, like you learned in basic training."

She shook her head. "I wasn't in basic training."

Martin was frustrated at her confusion. "Yes, Honey. You went to basic training to fight in a war."

She shook her head. "No, I'm a chemist. My company was contracted to search for chemical and biological warfare to create antidotes for our soldiers. I had a three-day seminar before coming out here." Even in her dazed state, she knew enough not to say anything about a classified mission and searching for agents to create a biological or chemical weapon that would pass as a local outbreak or local toxin. She didn't have to. Martin heard the thoughts in her mind.

Martin felt dread wash over him. She wasn't a soldier and didn't understand the ways of war. She had a skill the military needed and those men, those dead men, were probably supposed to keep her safe. "Honey, listen careful. Look at all the weapons. Make sure the safety is on for all of them so you don't accidentally shoot yourself." She grew confused. She didn't know what to do.

Martin lost all his patience and forced her arms to lift the weapons to catch the firelight so he could see. He looked at the spot that indicated the safety was on. "See, that is good. The chances of it firing accidentally are less because the safety is on." He didn't bother trying to explain that it wouldn't work if the weapon had been damaged in the explosion, but he checked the other weapons as well.

Her soft voice said, "I'll turn it off."

Martin exclaimed "No! Leave it on. We don't want it to go off until you're ready."

She nodded. "So I need to turn the gun off."

Crap. She thought the safety turned the weapon on and off. "Honey, relax. Let me take over and get you out of here. I'll keep talking so you know what I am doing, but I have to take over. Okay?"

He saw the ground move up and down again. "Okay, but I hurt. I hurt so much. Please, don't make the pain worse."

Martin gave a sad smile. "I know, Honey, I'll do my best not to add to your pain, but I need to get you out of here so others do not hurt you, either."

She nodded and he took control of her whole body. He moved her away from the voices, away from danger. She would leave tracks in the sand, but he didn't have time to sweep them away. Martin moved her as gently as he could and as fast as her pain would allow.

The voices grew louder. They had found her tracks and they were close. He looked around to find a place of cover. There was only flat sand and not any real dunes. He saw shadowed depressions and moved to the nearest one. He would hide in the darkness and prepare to defend her.

He moved the pistol to her boot because she had no holster. He could not believe that she had no weapons, but then again, he didn't understand the use of an untrained civilian in a war zone.

He lowered her body carefully onto her side and bent her knees slightly to prevent any rolling to keep the metal chunks from pushing deeper into her. He placed her elbows onto the sand, lifted the weapon into position, flicked the safety off, and aimed.