Path of the Vampire forum

The alarm went off at its appointed time. But it had not awoken the the sleeping occupant; because the occupant was not asleep. Normally Doc fell into a even sleep within minutes of lying down. But this day, he tossed and turned and sleep eluded him.

In his mind, he replayed his conversation with Grace over and over. The ultimate outcome of Grace’s life, he did not care about. She wanted to **** her life up? Fine so be it. It was her ignoring his sage and worthwhile advice that kept him awake. What was wrong with him? This sort of thing never bothered him before. But now.. And with someone what annoyed him as much as helped him, he had laid awake wondering how he could have broached the subject better.

::Remembering::

“Jane..”

Grace interjected, “My name is Grace!”

“Grace! I am speaking not as your employer, or even a friend..”

Grace interjected again, “We aren’t friends Doc…”

Doc bit back the exasperated retort he wanted to hurl at her, and instead, offered in an even and non judgemental tone, “Grace.. I know you care for this man.. I know you trust him. But uprooting yourself and heading to Hollywood because he thinks he can be a star.. Is madness.”

“Oh my god Doc.. he is gorgeous! And he loves me! He is going to be a star and I am going to be the wife of an A list actor!”

Doc counted to five, before, again keeping his voice even, “That is wonderful. I am happy for you. But don’t you think it would be best for him to go ahead of you.. Focus on his craft.. And call you when he is settled?”

“No.. Duh.” Grace rolled her eyes, “I am backrolling this. I am not giving him my money.. I go.. Or no money.”

Doc barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “You are going.. Because .. YOU are paying for it?”

“Yes! It was my idea!”

Doc sighed. Yes she was easily susceptible. That was why he chose her. She was easy, but dedicated and dogmatic in seeing that things happened the way they were supposed to. This ‘human’ had apparently gotten his hooks into Grace as well. It was probably partly his fault, because he did not keep a close watch on her. He could have and should seen the relationship developing before it went too far. But he had not. Sure Doc could force Grace to stay in Harper Rock, but she would slowly become resentful, and he would have to kill her to stop her from nagging him all the time.

He tried again, “He could be using for you for your money.” Could? He was using her, for her money. Doc knew how it would end. Grace and her ‘A-list Actor wannabe would get to Hollywood, and he would ditch her and latch on to the next big meal ticket.

“No he isn’t. He did not want me to spend my money on him at all! I had to force it on him!”

“Of course you did.. “ Doc added dryly.

“He even signed a promissory note. So there.” Grace gave Doc a smug look.

“Good. You should give that note to someone else for safekeeping. Things get lost when you move.”

Grace opened her mouth, then gave Doc a knowing look. “That is not a bad idea. Not that I do not believe he will pay me back.. I mean not that it will matter.. Because we are going to get married. But.. in case something happens.. Like he dies.. I would have a legal case for his estate. Yes.” She opened her planner and pulled out the Promissory Note and offered it to Doc. “You keep this for me. Not that I will need it. But I trust you.”

Of all the outcomes he wanted, this was not it. He did not want to be obliged to hold some ******* promissory note, knowing Grace, it would be twenty years on and she would demand it. Doc stared at Grace for a long moment, and finally accepted it. “I think you are making mistake.”

Grace dimpled at him and patted his hand consolingly, “Of course you do.” She smiled at him, “It’s time to let me go Doc.. I have a been a damn good assistant. But I need my own life now.”

Doc nodded slowly. “Very well. Go. Be happy or whatever the **** you call it. You’re free.”

In truth, Doc wasn’t really sure how to cut his bond to a thrall. The other times it had happened, was due to the thrall’s death. He closed off his link to her, and he watched as she packed up her desk and left the lab.

:: end ::

Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Doc forced himself to think of the ensuing evening. It was to be a break from work and routine. He was to meet Lizzie in less than a couple of hours. However he was preoccupied. Grace’s departure was signal. He saw it. Recognized it and knew he needed to act.

It was time for Doc to step back from public life.

A very happy German Shepard bounded around the ski area weaving in and out of the trees. Free from the restraints of living within city limits and its stuffy laws, the canine took enjoyment from the simple act of just running over the hills and around the trees. This was its time to stretch its legs and let the worries of the world fall away. Here there was no one to tell the Shepard no, no leashes to keep it tethered and no officers threatening to lock it up for being unaccompanied. It was pure bliss.

The wind picked up slightly carrying the scent of rabbit to the canine that abruptly changed course and headed towards the origin of the enticing aroma. A short, sharp bark was the only warning she gave to her prey as she slowed near a dense grouping of trees. Nose to the ground, the Shepard began to track the rabbit into the dense underbush. Following the trail for a couple moments brought the canine to a halt at a fallen, rotted out log. The scent of rabbit was strongest here she noted as she laid down to wait for her prey to emerge. Oddly enough, the Shepard did not hunt to kill but merely for the thrill of the chase.

Tingling in the back of her mind drew her attention away from the rabbit for a moment as the subject and sender of the incoming email came through. Anything sent by her assistant tagged ‘URGENT’ was typically an indication of a matter that needed sorting sooner than later. As long as Rei wasn’t calling, it wasn’t likely to be a disaster of any proportion but she knew that the woman wouldn’t leave her alone until she dealt with the urgent situation.

With a sigh, the canine rose; shaking the dust from her fur. There would be other rabbits to chase; business always came first but at least she could take one last run. The Shepard sprinted through the forest; picking up speed as she exited the deep underbush. Skidding to a halt outside one of the lodges, she shook, freeing the dust from her fur. I really need to get this area fenced in, she thought as she pushed the unlocked door open with her shoulder. It was only when the door closed that the canine gave way to a red-headed human.

That she was able to take the form of a German Shepard was her secret. While she was sure there were some that would possibly suspect that she was able to become an animal like many of the city’s vampires, she had never disclosed that she did indeed have a form mastered. A wise man had once told her she should have a way to get out if things went south; this was one of hers and one she never hoped to need. It was one of the reasons she had purchased the lodge aside from wanting an escape from the city. The area was great for exploring and the neighbors being sparse made it the perfect place to either unwind or play as a dog.

The red-head hunted down her computer so she could read and reply to the email that had disrupted her chase. While she had the ability to do so mentally, the human preferred not to rely on it given her access to it wasn’t guaranteed. It certainly had its uses, but wherever possible, she did things the ‘old-fashioned’ way. It was her way of ensuring she didn’t lose valuable skills and had every advantage possible, if the occasion arose.

The offending email was opened; a quick scan had Lea growling at the screen while muttering a variety of threats.

• Boss,
  
  If you want any more of those god damn ears, you had best be supplying a firearm for use in their acquisition. Otherwise, you can get your own. I’m sick and tired of having to chase after them and having to wash what seems to be gallons of blood and gore off my person and out of my clothes (if I can even get it out).
  
  Rei

Amalea sighed; all Rei had to do was collect zombie ears in her spare time. The red-head didn’t understand the need for the dramatics nor the sense of urgency the girl displayed. It certainly wasn’t so urgent that it couldn’t have at least waited till Monday morning. She was tempted to make Rei wait, but she valued a quiet weekend more. Her assistant could very persistent and in this case, Lea knew if she didn’t do something her phone would go haywire until she next arrived at work.

• Rei,
  
  In the future, something like this is not an urgent manner and could be easily dealt with on the next business day. I expect the terms “Urgent” and “Important” to be used in reference to business-related matters only. If you really must apply it to non-business situations, they should be drastic in nature and requiring immediate attention.
  
  As for this current situation, I will meet with you in two hours at our usual place. Please be on time, otherwise, you’ll be waiting till Monday.
  
  Amalea

After ensuring it sent, she closed her laptop and checked that she had an extra gun in the pack she planned to take with her. Ensured that her supplies were set, Lea headed off to the bedroom. She definitely needed to shower and change before she went anywhere.

Doc reflected on his conversation with Elizabeth from the night several evenings earlier. She had helped him sort out things that had been holding him back. Things were much clearer now. He had a plan, and it was time to set it in motion. Step one, get a business manager. Not an administrative assistant, but a manager. Someone to handle the businesses for him. Someone to do the day in and day out business grind. He had already had his eye on someone. Cyril Emerson. Cyril was a nondescript man in his middle forties, divorced with no children, and recently laid off from the securities firm he worked for. The reason for his lay off was due to downsizing. By all intents and purposes, his employer was loath to let him go, because he was reliable and good.

Breaking from his reverie as he caught sight of Cyril, he pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on and started following Cyril.

=====
Later
=====

Cyril could not believe his luck. He had been headed to the East End Docks to end it all. He had nothing left, his wife had left him and taken everything. His car had broken down and he couldn't afford to get it fixed because the ex had garnished his pay, and then to make things worse.. He got laid off. There was nothing to hang around for. Why? What was the purpose, just so his Ex could bleed him dry for the rest of his life? No way. His suicide would make her suffer more. There would be no Cyril Emerson to kick around. No alimony payments. No pay to be garnished.

But then just as he was making his way to the dock, he ran into Dr. Nilson. He hadn’t remembered him at first, but then the Doctor reminded him, of the work he had done for him with the securing the Asylum, by leveraging the Doctor’s securities as a bond. During the short course of their conversation, it came out that the Doctor was needing a business manager. And the next thing Cyril knew, he had a new job, a company apartment, and a new zest for life. He didn’t even care that the Ex would probably garnish his wages again.

======

Cyril warmed to his new job with a passion. He was the man in charge. Dr. Nilson had given him carte blanche in handling his businesses. He had already met with and discussed the new arrangement with the Nuns at the Asylum. His next stop had been to the Lab. The lab, was, for the most part well run. But due to the nature of the business, Cyril needed to immerse himself into the day to day aspects. There were procedures to learn before he could go about making improvements.

At present Cyril was having staff go through the closed out files, and box them up and label for the storage at an off site secured location. Files of this kind were required by law to be kept for ten years. Space in the lab was a premium. There was no room to store files. All closed cases had to go off site.

“Mr. Emerson..?”

“Please call me Cyril..”

“Cyril.. What do you want us to do with the .. dead files?”

“Dead files? As in the people have died? They go off site.”

“No sir.. I mean.. Dead as in.. still open.. But years old.”

“So you are saying that they are active? But no movement?”

“Yes.. basically.”

“What kind of cases?”

“DNA mostly.”

“Old?” Cyril shrugged, “Run them again.. There has to be new samples in CODIS and NDIS. Besides, unless they are closed, they are still open.”

“Sure thing Cyril. I will start running them.” Troy left Cyril’s office, and went back to his workstation. He picked up the first file. “Hmm.. code name.. Phoenix.. Guess old Doc had a sense of humor after all…” He called up the file and started running it in all the DNA data bases they had access to.

April 10, 2017

Rei Fisher had been working for Amalea Devadas nearly a year now yet she still wasn’t fully sure what to think of her employer. The red-headed certainly treated her well, especially since she had taken the position of her personal assistant. She had a place to live and the best benefits she’d ever seen from an employer. They were the only reason Rei was able to pursue her degree for which she was very grateful. A seemingly previously unattainable goal was now within her reach and all that was required of her was to perform to the best of her abilities.

Sometimes, though, Amalea assigned her some rather interesting tasks. The latest was certainly one of the more unusual missions. The brunette had no desire to ask how her employer knew about there being zombies in the Quarantine Zone or how she knew precisely how to slip into the district undetected. She certainly wasn’t able to ask why she wanted the ears of the disgusting creatures. To date, it was the worst assignment she had been given and there seemed to be no end in sight. She attempted to stymie the project by demanding a firearm; most were illegal to possess in the country so she felt it would grind everything to a halt, if not permanently then at least for a very long time.

That her employer replied to her demand within the hour with a note to meet her in two was a complete shock. Rei figured it had to be some sort of prank and that Amalea just wanted to lay into her in person for trying to shirk her duty. If the email was a shock, it was nothing compared to her astonishment when the red-head had produced an assault rifle. She hadn’t dared to ask where or how the rifle had been procured; rather she merely accepted the firearm and ammo making a note to never cross the woman.

Amalea Devadas was in an exceptionally good mood for a Monday morning. Most of that was due to the turf war Voodoo Dragons, a group she belonged to, had participated in. It certainly hadn’t been the first such battle as they had fought other factions within the city for control of their areas and defended their own. The red-head found them to be a wonderful form of stress relief and a semi-safe venue to hone her fighting skills. This battle had been particularly memorable as it wasn’t every day that a vampire presented her with a real-live heart and a crown.

The crown was currently the centerpiece of her dining table while she decided where best to display it. The heart has been placed into an acrylic display case which was presently being cradled against the human’s body with a single arm. The red-head had immediately decided that it would be the perfect conversation starter to set upon her desk, at least for the next week. She waved at Rei as she walked by, “Morning, Rei. Do me a favor and have Jennifer come to my office at her earliest convenience? “

Rei looked up from her desk at the sound of the door opening to admit her boss. The brunette was surprised with how chipper the red-head appeared. “Morning, Amalea,” she replied; the woman had insisted early on that she be addressed by her first name unless clients were present. “I will…” Her eyes widened as they fell upon the clear case. “Is that thing real?”

“Absolutely.” Lea smirked as she entered her office and shut the door, leaving her gaping assistant behind. Rei’s mouth finally snapped closed several moments after the door shut. She was fairly certain the woman wasn’t joking and was becoming convinced that she was somehow connected to the Mafia. Wisely, the brunette decided to keep that to herself.

Amalea wasn’t overly surprised when there a knock on her door a half hour later. “Come in,” she called. Smiling as Jennifer’s head appeared around the door, she waved the woman in. She set the menus she had been working on to the side as the woman took a seat. Turning slightly, she retrieved two bottles of water from her mini-fridge. “How are you?” she inquired as she passed one of the bottles to her employee.

After several moments of pleasant conversation, Lea turned the topic to the project she had in mind for Jennifer. “I have a special project for you, if you’re willing to take it on. You can work on it when you have downtime here, at home or a combination of both. You, of course, will be compensated for the time.”

“I’m interested in what the project is. I’d rather not commit before knowing the parameters.”

The red-head smiled as she had expected nothing less. Getting details before accepting a project was the mark of a good employee; Jennifer had proven several times over that she worth investing in. “Of course, I’d like to have a mold made of this heart,” she indicated the encased specimen on her desk, “preferably without damaging it as it makes a lovely décor item. Additionally, I’d like to have 5… no 6… casts made and painted to mimic the original.”

Jennifer blinked as her employer spelt out her expectations for the project. It was the perfect task for the artist-minded woman and well within her skill set, but it also seemed too good to be true. “That’s all? A mold and 6 painted casts of it?”

“That’s all. If more casts are needed later, you will be paid for those as well. I hope you’re not squeamish about handling real body parts?”

“No, not squeamish,” Jennifer laughed. “I’ll do it. Is there a timeframe for the casts? I assume that the mold will need to be made today before the organ begins to rot.”

“The sooner, the better,” Lea smiled, “Though I have no set deadline. The heart has been preserved in a manner that won’t allow rotting, but I would prefer the mold be made today, yes. Given that, you may leave work immediately, if you like.”

The woman was amazed that her employer was willing to allow her the day off of her normal duties to work on this. If she took the offer, she’d be able to shop for the paint while the mold set up and spend a day doing something she loved. “I would, if it’s not a hardship.”

“It’s not,” the red-head smiled as she rose, picking the case up. She handed it to the other woman. “I’ll let your supervisor know that you left on my orders and that he isn’t to bother you for working on this while you’re here.”

The woman stood to take the case, eager to get started on this project. “Thank you so much,” she gushed. “I’ll bring this,” she indicated the case, “back tomorrow.”

Lea smiled, “Sounds good. Enjoy the rest of your day.” She was pleased that the woman had accepted the assignment; she looked forward to surprising some unsuspecting people with a new knickknack. Once Jennifer had left her office, she retrieved the menus she had set aside. The red-head had been working on them for months, for her newest business venture, making changes to the recipes to ensure the highest quality dish. It was time to do another test run, she decided. As she passed Rei on her way to the kitchens, she told her assistant to hold her calls. Lea had this feeling that she was on to something with this new batch and didn't want the interruptions to distract her from her ultimate goal.

The next few days passed in an uneventful blur for Troy. That meant, Troy was actually enjoying his work for a change. The old man, aka Doc, had been away for days. Morale was high. Troy never realized how much of a downer Doc was, until Cyril was hired. Cyril was .. in a word, awesome. He didn’t yell, shout, or belittle you when you asked questions. He was actually nice, considerate, and spent time attempting to make sure Troy understood what was expected of him. Work had become… enjoyable!

It had been eight business days after Cyril had told him to rerun all the old limbo DNA files, when Troy got a hit. He saw the hit come across in his encrypted email and he about stopped breathing. This was the first bona fide DNA match in his short career. The feeling of euphoria was potent enough to hook him to the study of DNA for life. Sure Troy knew the science. He had the student loans to prove it. But to be a part of a cold case search, and find a match?! And get a hit?! That was AWESOME! Who knows how long this mystery had been in place. But who solved it? Troy did.

Hastily Troy grabbed up the files and scurried into Cyril, formerly Doc’s office. “Cyril! Man.. ! We got a hit!”

Cyril was startled at the sudden and abrupt appearance of one of the lab technicians rushing into his office. “Oh.. Ok!” His eyes wide, “Well done… you!” He pumped a fist awkwardly, “huzzah!” He added awkwardly with an atta-boy gesture.

“You remember right .. Cyril?” Troy had a moment of panic as though he expected an angry Cyril demand justification for spending resources on a cold case file. “The limbo files.. ? The ones you said.. ‘Rerun them .. new stuff might be in the databases’?”

Cyril frowned as he stared at Troy. Then Cyril held up a finger. He checked his dayrunner, flipping back pages until he saw Troy’s name. He scanned it for memory sake. “Oh! Yes! Yes indeedy!” He looked up at Troy as though he had just won the lottery. “We have a hit!? We are that much closer to closing out a file! Excellent. This is indeed good news, Troy! Well done!.. Who is it?”

Troy carefully laid out the files on Cyril’s desk, “It’s right here… Case number BTA001.”

Cyril stared uncomprehendingly at the file. “That.. is not a name, Troy.”

Troy nodded, “Yes.. I know. You think they actually put real names on files? Dude.. that breaks all sorts of HIPPA and Civil Laws. Every file is coded with a .. number. The only place where there are names.. Is television.” Troy laughed, “You didn’t expect a name did you?” Troy snorted laughed. “You did! YOU expected a name!”

Cyril put a fist up to his mouth and cleared his voice. It was a stall for time. Yes he did expect a name, but he did not want to admit that. He cleared his voice again. “No Troy..” He drew a breath, again stalling for time. “I expected you had already.. Gotten the pertinent name.” He looked at his watch, and had an epiphany, he lied as evenly as he could. “It has been over a week now…” He eyes Troy seriously.

Troy’s eyes got wide. “But.. I just got … the hit!!”

Cyril did his best, ‘I am disappointed look’ for Troy’s benefit, while sending a silent apology to God for the deceit. “And CODIS did not give you an activation form to fill out? Hmmm?”

Troy stared at Cyril for a moment and then allowed himself to breathe. He was saved. “Cyril.. This hit isn’t from CODIS.. It is from the SDRI Database. We do not have a formalized agreement with them,..” His voice trailed off.

“Well why don’t we?” Cyril asked pointedly.

“A very good question, Cyril.. But one above my pay grade..” It was a backhanded slap at Doc, while Troy tried to remain looking positive.

“Hmmmm.” Cyril nodded. “Fine, send a request for the name. I will work on the Memorandum of Understanding for that database. If we can get it before the memorandum is in place.. Yay for us. If not..” He gave Troy a look. “Be ready to suck up big time to get it.”

Troy took collected his files and headed back to his workstation. He was almost giddy. There was a hit with a database for his file. But it was an unknown database. How did that happen!? Troy had visions of secret government databases. He was on the cutting edge of espionage! Today Secret databases.. Tomorrow… Finding out where Jimmy Hoffa was buried!

After a very lengthy explanation and justification for the name for BTA001, Troy hit send. Everything was done on the through the web these days. No one used the phone anymore. At least, no one used it to speak. It was all done via encrypted email requests. Troy was confident that his request would bear fruit overnight.

“Milk, butter, flour, potatoes, ham, Cheddar, Parmesan…” Amalea checked off her list as she gathered the ingredients, “Mark, where did you hide the garlic?”

“On your station, boss, along with all the pans and equipment you asked for.”

“Thanks, Mark,” she smiled at the male as she set her armload on the prepared station. With a quick trip to the spice cabinet, the red-head was set to test her latest recipe. She needed one last tested and approved recipe to have a complete set of menus for her latest venture; she was hoping this one would be it. “You can go back to what you were doing. I’m all set.”

Amalea hardly noticed the male leaving as she had turned to her task of cubing the ham, which she tossed into a skillet to crisp up slightly. While the meat was cooking, she washed the potatoes and ran them through the food processor to achieve perfectly uniform slices. Setting the prepped potatoes and crisp ham aside, she began to melt the butter in a saucepan so she could start her roux. After adding the flour, she greased her baking dish to allow the roux time to cook. Having a raw flour flavor in the dish would ruin it, so this step was important.

When the roux had achieved the right color, the red-head began to whisk in the milk ladle by ladle. Between rounds, while the mixture thickened, she began to lay down the first layer of potatoes which she topped with some of the ham and Cheddar cheese. Once her white sauce was nearly ready, she smashed a couple cloves of garlic and stirred them in along with her mixture of spices, herbs, and a generous handful of Parmesan cheese.

Cooking was soothing to the woman and this business venture was something she had dreamed of since she had come to Harper’s Rock, though it had certainly evolved from its early form. From mobile blood dolls to a full-blown culinary experience for all of the city’s inhabitants, the idea had taken on a life of its own and Amalea couldn’t have been happier about it. While she wasn’t a chef and had no training, she enjoyed the process of creating dishes that brought joy to people. She was just glad her staff was willing guinea pigs.

Part of the finished sauce was spread over the cheese in the prepared dish. She continued to build the layers in the same manner until the baking dish was three-quarters full. Covering it with foil, the red-head popped it into the preheated oven to cook. The few dishes were quickly washed and left to dry as she took a seat.

Her mind wandered back to a conversation that had occurred a few nights ago. It had started innocently enough – a gathering at Voodoo. Unsurprisingly, she had been the only human in attendance which didn’t really phase her given she was around familiar faces. The real surprise had been Doc’s comment that he was considering politics and the subsequent discussion on the topic. That she had been able to participate in it and add some insight was something that she wouldn’t have considered possible a year ago; even today it seemed improbable in most circles.

Even the idea of vampires acquiring governmental recognition and protections seemed far-fetched though she had a suspicion that it’ll be a harder sell to some vampires than it would to the bureaucrats. Amalea stood by her comment that recognition was necessary not only for the safety of vampires but the safety of humans as well. She didn’t really care for most of the other humans, but every ecosystem had to have a semblance of balance. Killing off either species was likely to spell disaster, which certainly wasn’t an ideal situation.

She had been mulling over the idea of how humans were supposed to punish vampires that violated any laws. It was a difficult question when one had to take into account that some things were just best kept hidden. Holding a vampire in a jail meant for a human could be impossible depending on the skills the vampire had acquired. Keeping them mindblocked could be an option, but it would put a strain on the vampire community to find enough people with the ability that would be willing to do so for the extended time frame. Once the first couple vampires escaped, any protections would fall as humans realized vampires were more dangerous than believed.

It was something she hoped she would have a suitable answer for the next time the subject came up. Given she had volunteered to help with the venture; it was likely to be sooner than later. Although her allegiance wasn’t exactly a secret among vampires, the red-head was still unsure that her input and insight would be welcome by all. She could only hope it would be beneficial in the long run.

The timer going off drew Amalea out of her thoughts and back into the kitchen. She hit the off button as she opened the oven. Sliding the rack out, she removed the foil from the dish and sprinkled on the remaining Cheddar. She returned the rack to its rightful place and closed the oven. In the couple minutes it took the cheese to melt, she called her assistant Rei and had her set up the staff break room for a luncheon for the office staff. She tried to rotate through the various groups of employees so that everyone had a chance for a sit-down meal.

After dropping the dish off in the break room with instructions to leave their comments on the provided cards, she retreated to her office. The pile of paperwork on her desk was a testament to the time spent in the kitchen, though she didn’t really mind. There were certain tasks – like assigning donors identifiers – which she insisted she do herself. While all of her employees were required to sign non-disclosure agreements and adhere to PHIPA laws, she was more comfortable with severely restricting access to personal information.

Each first-time donor was required to fill out a form that collected their personal information, emergency contact, relevant medical information, and their preferences for being contacted for research purposes. Donors had the option to fill out a more comprehensive medical history if they chose though no one was denied if they weren’t willing to do so. Once the paperwork was submitted, the donor was issued a donor card that simply had their name and donor number. That number was the only thing that tied a donor to a particular vial.

That number was never tied directly to a genetic profile and never sent to a partner agency. Instead, Amalea had assigned each donor an internal number for the computer as well as an external one for use when the blood was sent out. The only place all three of these numbers could be found in one place was on the secured internal server that could be accessed by the red-head alone. She firmly believed in layers upon layers of security for her clients.

Amalea quickly sorted through the paperwork to sort it into priority. The high-priority pile wasn’t large and took nearly no time to complete as it was mainly human resource requesting authorizations on hiring decisions and policies. She thumbed through the medium-priority selections noting that there was nothing there that wouldn’t wait a day given she had several donor forms to process. These she always tended to give the highest priority to given their sensitivity and the depth of information they contained that could be beneficial to a number of research projects.

A couple hours later, she was ready to take a break and took the time to check her email. Scanning the subjects, she looked for anything that seemed like it needed immediate attention. One, a request for information, caught her attention. The body of the email caused the woman pause as she noted the ID number for which the information was being requested. Even without looking, she knew precisely who the donor was and that they had agreed to be contacted for research purposes. This request wasn’t for research purposes but rather it appeared that the DNA of the donor was a match to a sample from the requesting agency.

With a frown, she pulled up the list of partner agencies that were granted access to Sanguine’s database. Genesis Laboratories was on the list but had never returned any of the forms they had been sent to formalize the arrangement. This wouldn’t restrict their access, but it wouldn’t allow them to be able to request personal information in such a manner. The red-head would need to resend and receive the forms before she would disclose that information; she needed to be assured client privacy was respected.

How? was the question on the woman’s mind as she stared at the screen before her. After a few moments, she picked up her phone and dialed Rei’s extension. “Do me a favor and find out which agency took control of the investigation into the crash of the Penair Flight 350 in October 2001 and get them to send over the DNA profiles – email or fax - for all the passengers?” She shook her head as she listened to her assistant question why it was necessary to do so, “Just do it, please. If there’s paperwork that needs signing, have them fax it over.”

Hanging up the phone, she went back to staring at the email, sure it was some hoax meant to discredit her and her business. She would have to figure that out eventually, but for now, she’d treat it as legit. Hitting reply on the email, the red-head took a moment to gather her thoughts and consider her reply. Expressing her apologies that she was unable to currently unable to supply the requested information, she detailed what steps needed to be taken. She was careful to note that the paperwork that formalized the arrangement between the companies actually had to be signed by the highest ranked official and mailed back. It was her policy to never accept such paperwork signed using a stamp nor faxed. She wanted to ensure accountability was possible should it be breached and an original, handwritten signature provided for that.

Amalea attached the required forms, noting that one was the formalization agreement and the other was the request for information that could be signed by any authorized supervisor. She invited them to send over any forms that were needed for their company and she would see them signed and sent back straightaway. She certainly was willing to sign any reasonable agreement requested by a partner, but Sanguine used their own form to ensure that their partners adhered to PHIPA laws when handling information acquired from their database. Most partners should already practice adherence, however the red-head didn’t like to take chances. She also invited the tech, or anyone else from the company, to call her directly, if there were any questions.

Double checking for spelling and grammar, she reread the email to also ensure its completeness and coherence. Satisfied, she hit submit. Now only time would tell what fruits both of her requests would bear. The question was if the fruit would be as sweet as she hoped.

Cyril nodded as he listened to Dr. Nilson layout the responsibilities of the Asylum, Cyril’s role there would be oversight, more than the day to day activities of a manager as he was at the Lab. It was clear Dr. Nilson would still have to have to daily.. Or nightly input as there were medical issues and ethics that had to be maintained and he was the Doctor of record. He did not foresee any issues however, unless an inmate broke out. And woe be to that inmate. He doubted that Dr. Nilson would deal kindly with him.

“The Penguin mum.. She runs a tight ship. Do not **** with her.” Doc gave Cyril a look. “I am serious. Do not piss her off. She will become your worst nightmare. I have seen her reduce a prison guard to tears. That female has an uncanny knack for finding your weak spot.. Then zeroing in on it, and exploiting it for her own amusement. That woman scares me. And I do not scare easily.”

At first Cyril thought Dr. Nilson was laying it on pretty thick, but when the Mother Superior stepped in a few minutes later to be introduced, he realized what a formidable person, the diminutive woman was. Cyril stumbled over his words more than once, when he was trying to answer her questions. His stomach was knotted and he felt like he was on trial, and he hadn’t done anything wrong. He could only imagine what effect she would have on someone that was guilty.

It was closing on midnight, before Cyril finally told Dr. Nilson that he had had a long day and needed to head for his bed. Nodding, Doc stood up and went over to the bookcase, collected a three inch binder notebook and then held it out to Cyril. “Some light reading before bed..” He smirked.

Taking the binder, Cyril sighed. “Law and Government Division, DMDA?”

Doc smirked his typical crooked closed lipped smirk, “Dangerous Mentally Disordered Accused.” He gave a snort of amusement, “Don’t worry, I do not expect you to read it in one go. But you do need to be aware of what is and is not acceptable for the inmates. At times the Penguins can be a bit.. Too restrictive. The inmates do have some right that must be afforded to them.” He paused and listened for a minute, to make sure there were none of the black dressed soul savers within ear shot. “Such as.. They have the right not to have sermons blasted through the intercoms condemning them to eternity death and torment in hades, due to their crimes.”

Cyril gave Doc a look and said, “Surely they do not…”

“**** yes they do. If you witness it.. You stop it.”

Cyril nodded. “Right.. No sermons.” He made a hasty note in his day runner, and said, “Before I go, we are making great strides with the cold case files. Troy has that oldest one nearly sown up.”

Doc nodded, though truth be told, he wasn’t sure which one was technically the oldest. Was it oldest by date they started working on it? Or oldest by date of the inception? “Troy.. which one is he?”

“Tall lanky fellow..”

“I thought that was Tony…”

“No.. Toni is the short black girl.. It is short for Antoinette.”

“I thought she was Jane?”

“No..Jane.. or rather Janet, is the receptionist.”

“Oh..right.. She is the one that makes terrible coffee…”

“I know right? How does she manage to mess it up? You put a pod in and press a button. It should be fool proof.”

Doc brought the conversation back to the file, “We digress, so this file that has movement on it.. Where are we, where did we get a hit?” He still wasn’t even sure which file they were discussing yet. Maybe it would click as the conversation went on.

Cyril pushed his glasses up on his nose, “One of the new databases, we haven’t gotten the MoU in place yet.”

“That’s easy.. All I have to do…” Doc was already moving to a filing cabinet, when Cyril cut him off.

“ah - ah.. You’re hands off now. This is my role now. I need to do this, so I know the process.” He said as he stood up, collecting his briefcase and clutching the binder under one arm. “Let me handle this.”

Doc nodded, “Yes. Yes, you’re right. You handle it. It’s late for you. For forth… do good things. Sleep well Cyril.”

==========

The next morning Cyril sat in the Director’s office at Genesis Laboratory. He was looking over the incoming invoices and matching them to the proper files. Yes, this was more the bookkeeper’s job, but he wanted to immerse himself in all aspects of the Lab, so he knew the intricacies inside and out. As soon as he had the office procedurals learned, he would start on the testing. Learning the different protocols. It would take time, but Cyril was a wiz at organization. Even if he didn’t remember all aspects of each test, it would be alright, because he was going to create a database of the protocols.

Yes he could most likely buy a copy of a database of those protocols, but then he would have it to fall back on without actually learning it. No. It was best that Cyril create and populate his own database. He was in the midst of opening the binder notebook that Dr. Nilson had given him the night before, when Troy knocked briefly and then hurried in.

Troy slammed a copy of the email he had just printed, down on Cyril’s desk. “They said No!.. They will not release the information to us!”

Cyril calmly picked up email and took his time reading it, as Troy paced back and forth. “This could blose the case wide open! And they are just going to say no? It is.. Wrong!”

“Calm down Troy. they are perfectly within their rights. We do not have a formal agreement with them.” He laid the email down, “I for my part, and glad they turned it down.”

Troy whirled on Cyril, “WHAT?! Why?!”

Cyril smiled in a placating way, “Because my dear boy, that means that particular repository of genetic markers holds a high value on their data. It means it will safeguard that data. It also means, that once we have an agreement with them, there will be no reason to question the viability or reliability of the match.” He clasped his fingers together, “Simply put, this is precisely how the system should work. I will start on the paperwork.”

That act, doing the paperwork for the agreement, was more involved than even Cyril expected. It was then that he realized why Dr. Nilson had not pursued it in a more expeditious manner. Not that Cyril blamed him, no. This procedure was just what he needed in order to solidify his position as the Doctor’s business manager.

Two days later, Cyril finally signed the agreement. He, himself, took care of scanning, emailing, and sending the original by certified return receipt via royal post. Finding Troy, he gave him the update, “Ah Troy, I have just mailed the documentation we need for the release of information for that sample.” He smiled, “In a bout a month or so, I am sure we will have the name of our match!”

Troy’s mouth dropped open.

Cyril’s smile took on a look pride, thinking that Troy was in awe over his wonderful knack at paperwork and ability to surf the abyss of red tape that normally mires others down.

“What the **** Cyril?! A month?!”

The prideful smile turned into a frown of confusion, “I don’t understand your consternation..I have completed the paperwork in thoroughness. The other lab will receive it. Read it. Pass it along to their legal department, who will read it and check every answer. That should take about three weeks. It would take longer, if I had not supplied the documentation of validity for each section. I cut off at least eight weeks of research on their part, by being thorough on my end! After legal rubber stamps it.. They return it.. Its signed.. And we should have an answer.. Another week.” Cyril gave him a perplexed look, “What did you think? That you would get an answer in 24 hours? Son..” He gave Cyril a knowing look. “This is not television.”

Amalea had been pleased with the reviews of her last recipe testing; scalloped potatoes and ham had claimed the last spot on her opening menus. Today, she had prepared the full complement of dishes for a staff luncheon. While the red-head knew each dish had positive reviews individually, she was trying to gauge which ones people preferred to have served together. Those pairings or trios would be the basis of the meal delivery portion of her new business – at least to human customers. Vampires would have more choice in their deliveries while both humans and vampires would have complete control of any catered menu.

It had taken her five years to go from the mere dream of a meal delivery service for vampires to the actual incarnation of a full meal delivery and catering business for the entire population of Harper’s Rock. It still amazed the red-head how fast everything started to fall together once her first business had been established. There was still a fair amount of work to be done, but Amalea was closer to her dream than she had ever thought possible. One of the biggest hurdles left was hiring a staff that was both aware of vampires and had no issues with them given the woman hoped vampires would make up the majority of the clientele.

The red-head was impatiently waiting for the luncheon to end as Leonard, one of the DNA techs, had stopped on his way into the meal to let her know his analysis was complete. Her request for the DNA profiles had been granted and the information had arrived via overnight mail the following day. She had assigned the project of comparing them to the baseline sample to Leonard and was now anxious to see if he got the expected results. In the meantime, she was working on her to-do list for the new business which included hiring a decent number of employees that were human/vampire friendly. Amalea knew that could possibly take longer than it had to develop the menus since she’d need to tread carefully.

Knocking pulled the woman from her consideration of her employment problem. Pushing her business documents to the side, she indicated that her visitor could come in. The red-head smiled when she was that it was Leonard; waving him in, she invited him to take a seat and they exchanged pleasantries for a few moments.

“Miss Devadas, I ran those DNA profiles against the supplied baseline as you requested.”

“What conclusion did you come to?”


“There were no matches to the baseline.”

“None?” Amalea was shocked by this result though she did her best not to let it show. She had been expecting at least one positive match.

“All DNA profiles were negative for a match.”

“How many DNA profiles were sent for comparison?”

“Ten.”

“So they were all sent over, good,” the red-headed nodded though she was still confused by the result. “Thank you, Leonard, for taking on this project.”

“Never a problem, Miss Devadas. A change from routine is always refreshing.”

“Indeed. If I have any further projects of that nature, I will see that you get the first chance at them.”

“You are too kind. With your permission, I will return to my duties.”

“Of course, please don’t let me keep you,” she smiled as he rose and left. The smile quickly turned to a frown as she considered the implications of what she had just learned. What should have been a simple project had taken a drastic turn that called for further research. Turning to her computer, she began the tedious task of requesting a wide range of records that the human hoped would help to explain the unexpected results.

A few hours later she was ready to take a break from the monotony of digging for the source of a record and emailing the required information to request a copy. Thankfully, she wasn’t looking for certified copies of anything which did save some time and simplified the process. The downside though was that most of the agencies were in the United States and would only send paper copies which could take weeks. Grabbing a bottle of water, she decided a quick trip around the facility was just what she needed.

An hour later, Amalea returned to her office refreshed and ready to resume her hunt. Her first task was to check her email to see if she had gotten any replies, though she sincerely doubted agencies would be so efficient. She was surprised to find an email from Cyril Emerson of Genesis Labs with a copy of a Memorandum of Understanding. Downloading and opening the document, she took the time to read through it carefully. To her, it looked like all was in order, but she would wait for a paper copy with legitimate signature before passing it over to the legal department.

Late the following day, Rei stuck her head into the red-head’s office to inform her that there was a delivery that required her personal signature. Curious, Amalea followed the brunette out to the lobby to find the mailman waiting for her. After greeting him, she took the offered clipboard and signed for the envelope he subsequently handed her. She thanked him and Rei before retreating to her office to review its contents. Realizing it was the paper copy of the MoU from Genesis Labs, she smiled as she skimmed the document and verified it was the same as the email copy she had received the day prior. Confirming the signature was real and not some sort of stamp, she walked down to the legal department.

“Jerome? Sarah? Anyone home?” The red-head called with a laugh as she entered the department. It was part running joke and part occupancy check as the legal team wasn’t always on site. When she had hired them, the pair had insisted on doing their own footwork and refused to have any support staff. She acquiesced with the stipulation that if they got swamped in the future that they would revisit the topic.

“Hola, Miss Devadas,” Sarah replied as she came around the corner.

Amalea stared at the woman a moment, “Sarah, it’s Amalea without clients around.” She was still trying to get her employees used to using her name instead of relying on formalities.

“Of course, I beg your pardon. It’s not second nature yet.”

“No problem,” the red-head smiled. “I understand that most find it unusual.”

“Indeed, it is not every day one’s boss insists on being called by name. But I assume that you did not come to discuss that. What can we do for you?”

“No, I didn’t but I never mind taking the time to chat,” Amalea laughed. “I have a Memorandum of Understanding that was sent over by Genesis Labs. I’d like you guys to set aside the paperwork for Crimson Delights and give this priority.”

“You sure? We’re getting close to done on that paperwork.”

“Absolutely. They got a match from our database and this needs to be approved before we can release the information to them. I’d hate to make them wait longer than necessary.” The red-head was also curious if the document would stand up to scrutiny which would help partially relieve her worry about the entire situation being a hoax.

“That makes sense. Working relationships are important. I’ll start on this right away and let Jerome know of the new assignment as soon as he gets back from filing paperwork with City Hall.”

“Appreciated, Sarah. Thank you. Please keep me informed.” Amalea was pleased that her staff was so flexible and didn’t question things too much. With a wave, she left the department and headed back to her office to finish her own paperwork before heading home.

Two days later, Amalea’s morning routine of checking email and processing new donors was interrupted by a knock on her door. Instead of calling out her usual ‘Come in,’ she got up to answer the door given it was Rei’s day off. She was pleasantly surprised to see Jerome standing there rather than some random salesperson. Stepping aside, she let him pass before shutting the door. Nabbing two bottles of water from the fridge, she handed one to the male as she took her seat.

“Miss Devadas…” Jerome began, pausing as the red-head gave him a look, “Sorry… Amalea. I’m sorry to interrupt you but you had requested updates on the Genesis paperwork.”

“It is never a problem. My door is always open to the staff but yes, I had requested to be kept informed.”

“We haven’t gotten too far into giving the MoU the fine tooth comb treatment. It appears to be well-written and well-documented which should lessen the fact-checking we need to do. However, the signee, Cyril Emerson, is not the owner of the Lab.”

The red-head blinked as she internally revised her next statement several times to make it work appropriate. “If he is not, then who is?” It was as if they had taken one step forward only to take three steps back.

“A Dr. Charles Nilson.” He slid a printout across the desk, “This an article from the Harper Rock Sun that has an interview with him.”

“Please tell me this is not only piece of evidence?” She asked as she slid the paper to the side to read later. “I don’t tend to trust that poor excuse for a reporter.”

“Of course not,” he laughed. “We started with newspapers to ensure that the company hadn’t been sold. However, his name also appears in city records.”

“Making sure,” she shook her head in amusement, “The name is familiar. Why don’t you guys continue working on the MoU and I’ll try to figure out what the heck is going on with the discrepancy in signees.”

“That would be helpful, if you don’t mind.” Jerome rose, knowing instinctively that the meeting had come to an end. “We will keep you updated.”

“Thank you. I’ll let you know what I find out,” she nodded.

Once Jerome left, the red-head turned her attention to the article. She was actually surprised that it appeared to be well-written and didn’t seem like it had been made up like half the BS that appeared in that rag. There wasn’t much to be learnt from the article that she hadn’t already known or assumed. Just as she was about the file the article in her Genesis folder, she remembered why the name had sounded familiar. Sitting down, she blinked, wondering how she had forgotten that incident.

---

It had been a masked New Year’s Eve bash. They had just been setting out to take a stroll around the ballroom when Mona, the nosy reporter, had interrupted. Clearly the woman had no idea how to separate business and pleasure given she had wanted to know if the red-head had seen the issue containing the interview she had given at the Unification Event. She had also asked for another interview, before finally greeting Amalea’s companion by that mysterious name.

---

The realization that Doc was the owner of Genesis actually brought a smile to the red-head’s lips. Things were starting to make more sense now as she recalled him stating at their last meeting that he had hired a business manager so he could step back from them. It certainly made things easier, she decided, as she called up her email program. While it wasn’t her standard policy to accept anything other than the owner’s signature, she’d make an exception if it was legit. Amalea tried to keep the message short and sweet as she inquired if Cyril was authorized to sign MoUs for Genesis Labs.

After a couple moments of internal debate, she started a new paragraph. She took a moment to explain that she wasn’t asking for any information that’d violate PHIPA laws, but that she was wondering if he knew anything about someone getting a match specifically to her DNA database. She was careful to say that she wasn’t asking to whom, but given she hadn’t thought it possible; she merely wanted to insure that someone wasn’t trying to discredit both businesses. She ended the email by hoping he was well and that she was available to meet if he had questions. Satisfied, Amalea hit submit and hoped he wouldn’t think her a paranoid nut.

To say he was more than a little surprised when Doc saw he had an email from Amalea would have been an understatement. He was surprised and secretly pleased. He recalled the first time he had seen her. It was in Lancaster’s bar, she and AJ were bartenders. And even though,.. she was a redhead, who he typically avoided, he had liked her immediately. He had been newly turned, and was trying to stay under the radar and behave; so he had not been his usual obnoxious self. He had been polite and unassuming. And she ignored him.

What had he really expected anyway? He was twice her age. But she had a look in her eye, that told the observant person, she knew more than she let on. She might be quiet, but there was a wealth of information behind those honey brown eyes. Smiling at the memory, Doc opened the email and read it. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it sure as hell was not a polite business email.

Sighing Doc realized Amalea was far to professional for her own good. The girl needed to lighten up. Have some fun. Cut loose a bit. But that would be a plan for another day, for the moment he needed reply to her email. Rereading it, he almost logged into the Lab’s servers to see what he could find out for her, but then he stopped. No. He was stepping back from the public eye, he had hired Cyril to handle this sort of thing for him. How would it look if he stepped right back into the business and started taking over? It would undermine all of Cyril’s hard work.

Drafting a reply, he started typing, and he had a pretty lengthy reply when he stopped, and started backing out all of what he had just typed. He needed to keep it professional, businesslike. He started over. Making it clear, that yes Cyril Emerson had his personal authorization to act and sign for all of his his businesses. He then apologized for being reticent in pursuing the memorandum of understanding sooner, but reiterated that Cyril was the go-to-guy for all the Lab’s business needs, and that unfortunately, he was unaware of the name of the case involved, which had a match to her database.

Pausing in his typing, Doc was torn, he really wanted to know which case it was. However, if it turned out to be a court case, that would require someone taking the stand, he needed to stay far away from it. The less he knew, the less chance he would be called to testify. That would be the last thing he needed, having to testify, and then word get out he was a vampire. Not that he was worried about himself, but he wanted to bring the vampire community together, and get the humans to recognize them as a legal race. That goal could be erased if he was outed in a court case.

Focusing back on the email, Doc ended it by tell her that anytime she wanted to meet, he would be happy to, and it did not have to be all business either, he could be found at Yin most evenings, because after all, he could use her point of view about that other business interest they discussed briefly at Voodoo a few weeks back. Adding his initial at the bottom, he hit send.

Trying keep his mind off of the case, was easier said than done. For the next few hours, his mind kept going back to her email. Someone had been matched to her database. He was not privy to her clientele, that was the whole point of the MoU. However, it would be a logical assumption to presume that her pool of applicants were all Harper Rock citizens. That would make it that much more a reasonable presumption that it would involve a court case. He knew better than most, that just because you get a match, it doesn't mean case closed. It could mean that it was a distant relative, with no viable information to the case. Yes. It all made sense for him to let it go. So why couldn’t he?

Doc needed something else to occupy his mind. Pulling out his cell phone, he scrolled through his contacts and grinned crookedly, he had Amalea’s number. He texted her, [text] How do you feel about camping?

The text message alert from her phone was not Amalea’s favorite naptime alarm clock. With a sigh, she rolled off the couch she had taken residence on after leaving work early for a last minute long weekend. Her hope was that the break from the center would allow her to relax and refocus. Glaring at her phone, she passed by it to attend to other business first; it wasn’t a phone call, so it could likely wait the bit of time it’d take her to do so.

While she’d been in the shower, the red-head had contemplated ordering out for dinner but instead settled on cooking something she had on hand. Dried off and dressed, she decided to do one final check of her email for the weekend. Anything after that point would have to wait until she returned to the office sometime early next week. She knew if it was an emergency that she’d get a phone call so wasn’t too worried about letting things sit.

That she already had a reply from Doc was a bit surprising as she hadn’t been expecting one till later in the night. Vampire’s schedules were rather varied given some were able to tolerate the sunlight better than others. It was the main reason she preferred email to phone calls; waking a vampire up tended to make them cranky and that was not something she really wanted to have directed at her. Amalea seemed to flirt with death enough without directly provoking it, thus it was safer to email and let the person reply at their leisure.

Opening the email, she read it carefully. The contents weren’t surprising but rather more in line with what she had expected. Starting a new email, the red-head wrote a short message to her legal team that Cyril Emerson was allowed to sign such documents and to please continue with review of the memorandum of understanding. After sending it, she added a task to her calendar to add a note to the file for each individual business so there was no question in the future.

Returning to Doc’s email, she hit reply and began typing trying to keep it short and sweet. Amalea made sure to thank him for his quick response before acknowledging that she would ensure her staff knew of Cyril’s position within his companies. Ensuring him that she completely understood his position; she noted she appreciated his effort in the matter. She smiled as she reread the ending note; she’d have to visit Yin soon perhaps even this evening. For the moment, she settled for closing her reply stating that she’d have to find her way to Yin more often then. Signing it with her name, she hit send.

Closing the computer, she set it aside in favor of her phone and the text message waiting for her. The red-head laughed as she saw the sender. Two messages in one night; she certainly was a lucky woman. Doc was a good man and good friend which was something she appreciated in this uncertain city. Amalea had many fond memories of nights at the Necropolis-turned-Irish-Pub. She had hated the décor and atmosphere but truly enjoyed her regular patrons of which he was one. They were truly what helped her keep a grasp on her sanity through that trying time.

She missed those days and how they could talk all night. Attendance had dropped and eventually patrons had ceased coming in, opting for darker, more suitable hangouts. The red-head could hardly blame them for it, if she was honest. She had hoped the clientele would return once the club was returned to its Goth roots and while some had, it had never been to its former glory.

Opening the message, she blinked as she stared at it. Whatever she had been expecting, a question about camping had not even entered her mind. It was a straightforward question, or rather, would have been to most people. For Amalea, it was slightly more complicated given she had never actually participated in the activity. Laughing, she replied [text] Never been, tbh, but it sounds like fun.

Having hit send, she decided she was definitely going to venture out tonight. A change of clothes was in order, though. Lounge wear was great for her lodge, but wasn’t precisely what she’d wear out. Tossing her phone on to the bed, she started on her quest to find a suitable outfit. After a couple minutes of digging, she found something that was just the right balance between dressy and casual. A quick change of clothes and fussing with her hair, she was ready to go.