strewn with papers, many of them graphs and pictures. Several books are missing from his shelves, many of which, I suspect, are now occupying one of the wooden chairs behind his desk in a haphazard stack. Navarro himself looks a little disheveled, but his demeanor is just as collected as ever, if a little excited. “Hello again,” he says with a toothy grin. “How have you two been?”
“Pretty alright,” Nick answers. I just smile in response.
“Good to hear.” Navarro reaches into a drawer behind his desk for a moment, and pulls out Nick’s file again. This time, he hands it to Nick, after saying, “First things first, a promise is a promise. Here’s all the info we have on you, and your maker.”
Nick mumbles his appreciation, but I can see the excitement in his eyes. He’s been looking forward to this moment. I look over his shoulder as he flips open the folder. I skim over all the information that I already know; Hair: Brown, Eyes: Brown, Age Before Transformation: 19, etc. What I’m really looking for is on the second page. A blurry picture of a long haired woman with deep, hollow eyes, followed by information less detailed than what they have on Nick. The only line I really pay any attention to is her name, Evelyn Brenner.
“I’m sorry we don’t have more to go on,” Navarro says. “She’s slipped under the radar recently, but that’s the most up-to-date information we’ve got. Her last known address is listed, but I don’t know how much good it’ll do.”
“It’s fine,” Nick says with a furrowed brow. “It’s a lot more info than I’ve ever had.”
“And now, for the main event.” There’s a new light behind Navarro’s eyes; he’s clearly excited by whatever it is that he and his team have found. I’m beginning to suspect that he’s more dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge than he’ll ever be to politics. “The lab boys have sent in their reports from Nick’s tests.”
“And what did they say?,” I ask.
“Theories are still abound as to what caused Nick’s transformation, but we can rule out modern medicine, witchcraft, and the doing of spellcasters. It’s as if his body just up and decided to reject the vampire venom altogether five years after the fact.”
“That tells us nothing,” Nick says with a scowl.
“On the contrary. It tells us where we won’t have to look.” Navarro uncovers an iPad from under a few of the papers scattered across his desk. “We tried testing your blood itself to see if it would still reject the venom, and we weren’t disappointed by the results.”
Navarro hands Nick the iPad, and the three of us watch the video that’s already queued up. It’s already been skipped ahead to the part where a vial of blood has been poured into a Petri dish, and as always, I’m surprised by how dark the actual liquid looks compared to how I imagine blood to look. A gloved hand holding a pipette squeezes a tiny bead of translucent, bright yellow liquid over the Petri dish. The moment the two liquids come into contact, a brilliant blue flash blocks out most of the screen. The light fades as quickly as it came into being, and the blood in the dish looks untouched, while there’s no trace of the yellow liquid to be found.
The video ends, and Nick and I look up at Navarro expectantly. “That’s not a normal reaction,” he explains. “When blood comes into contact with vampire venom, it either slowly starts turning black, or doesn’t react at all. So, the team concluded that the answer lies within your blood.”
“Okay,” Nick mutters. “So, does that mean we have to do more testing?”
“Actually, no. That’s when I did some digging of my own, off the books. See, some of your blood samples were of your own blood type, and some were of a type foreign to your body. The sample in the video was from one of the foreign vials. So, I cross checked it against the blood of everyone you know, and there’s only one person on record that you’re
“Pretty alright,” Nick answers. I just smile in response.
“Good to hear.” Navarro reaches into a drawer behind his desk for a moment, and pulls out Nick’s file again. This time, he hands it to Nick, after saying, “First things first, a promise is a promise. Here’s all the info we have on you, and your maker.”
Nick mumbles his appreciation, but I can see the excitement in his eyes. He’s been looking forward to this moment. I look over his shoulder as he flips open the folder. I skim over all the information that I already know; Hair: Brown, Eyes: Brown, Age Before Transformation: 19, etc. What I’m really looking for is on the second page. A blurry picture of a long haired woman with deep, hollow eyes, followed by information less detailed than what they have on Nick. The only line I really pay any attention to is her name, Evelyn Brenner.
“I’m sorry we don’t have more to go on,” Navarro says. “She’s slipped under the radar recently, but that’s the most up-to-date information we’ve got. Her last known address is listed, but I don’t know how much good it’ll do.”
“It’s fine,” Nick says with a furrowed brow. “It’s a lot more info than I’ve ever had.”
“And now, for the main event.” There’s a new light behind Navarro’s eyes; he’s clearly excited by whatever it is that he and his team have found. I’m beginning to suspect that he’s more dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge than he’ll ever be to politics. “The lab boys have sent in their reports from Nick’s tests.”
“And what did they say?,” I ask.
“Theories are still abound as to what caused Nick’s transformation, but we can rule out modern medicine, witchcraft, and the doing of spellcasters. It’s as if his body just up and decided to reject the vampire venom altogether five years after the fact.”
“That tells us nothing,” Nick says with a scowl.
“On the contrary. It tells us where we won’t have to look.” Navarro uncovers an iPad from under a few of the papers scattered across his desk. “We tried testing your blood itself to see if it would still reject the venom, and we weren’t disappointed by the results.”
Navarro hands Nick the iPad, and the three of us watch the video that’s already queued up. It’s already been skipped ahead to the part where a vial of blood has been poured into a Petri dish, and as always, I’m surprised by how dark the actual liquid looks compared to how I imagine blood to look. A gloved hand holding a pipette squeezes a tiny bead of translucent, bright yellow liquid over the Petri dish. The moment the two liquids come into contact, a brilliant blue flash blocks out most of the screen. The light fades as quickly as it came into being, and the blood in the dish looks untouched, while there’s no trace of the yellow liquid to be found.
The video ends, and Nick and I look up at Navarro expectantly. “That’s not a normal reaction,” he explains. “When blood comes into contact with vampire venom, it either slowly starts turning black, or doesn’t react at all. So, the team concluded that the answer lies within your blood.”
“Okay,” Nick mutters. “So, does that mean we have to do more testing?”
“Actually, no. That’s when I did some digging of my own, off the books. See, some of your blood samples were of your own blood type, and some were of a type foreign to your body. The sample in the video was from one of the foreign vials. So, I cross checked it against the blood of everyone you know, and there’s only one person on record that you’re
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