Frostbyte: The American Blood, #1

Chapter 1

Jack

Islid my key into the door of the first-floor apartment and turned it, only to find the lock was already disengaged. With a sigh, I pushed it open and found Dylan, one of my roommates, and his friends in various states of drunkenness spread over the living room. Empty bottles and beer cans littered every surface. Some pills spilled over the coffee table. The door to Cade's room was open, with his questionable taste in music pouring out. It was that weird, electronic, dance stuff he insisted was 'all the rage.’

Cade leaned back in his desk chair, while looking out at me. Hey Jack-man, where you been? You missed the fun.

Somehow, I highly doubted that. Shutting the front door behind me, I headed for the tiny galley kitchen. I had the late shift.

You're always working, you need to learn to chill.

He'd said the same thing a couple of times a month, since I answered his roommate wanted ad back in August. At least I could pay my portion of the rent with my own money. Setting my travel mug by the full sink, I headed down the hall for my room, having to step over one guy passed out in the middle of the floor. What a waste.

The bastards were lucky enough to make it into college, spoiled just enough by their parents that they didn't have to worry about rent or tuition, and who didn't care whether their next meal would be ramen noodles or the can of tuna ever-living in the back of the pantry. Then, they spent their time high or drunk, like they didn't have a care for the future. Pissed me off.

Switching keys, I unlocked my bedroom door and flipped the lights on. The room was tiny and barely bigger than a walk-in closet. Most of the space was taken by a large desk with multiple monitors, computers, and spare parts. The clutter left enough space for a twin bed in the far corner.

My computers were the only things, besides clothes, I brought with me from my parents’ place in Portland. I built most of them myself from salvaged scraps and leftover parts. I loved the challenge of creating something new from outdated pieces. Of course, I'd kill for some of the fancy, high-tech stuff like the new processors that just dropped or the fancy water-cooled towers, but that shit was expensive.

I hadn't really thought about bringing anything else, except for my family photo from last summer sitting on an empty, plastic, storage tub I used as a nightstand. The crease in the middle allowed it to stand on its own, without a frame. I threw my coat and messenger bag on the bed and turned my monitors on before taking a load off at my desk. Sitting in the chair, my feet screamed as I kicked my shoes off. I needed new ones, but that luxury shopping wasn't happening anytime soon.

Jack? Where'd you go?

Crap, I'd left my door open, which was an invitation for constant interruption in this apartment. I may have been the youngest of the three of us who actually lived here, but some nights, I felt like the old man of the group.

I sat back, flipping my computer screens to blackout with a quick shortcut. What did Cade want now? To fess up to eating my last cup of noodles?

Jack?

Yeah.

Cade poked his head in my door, raising a hand at me. Do you think you could help me with some python script? I'm having some trouble with a couple of lines, and they don't want to work. It's due Monday.

Sure, give me a few minutes? I asked.

I was thinking maybe sometime this weekend? I'm too wasted to think straight tonight, and I have to drive out to my parents' place tomorrow.

Ok, catch me after my shift on Sunday, then.

Thanks, man. Cade left without another word, pulling my door all but shut behind him as he did.

Between my two roommates, Cade was more reliable than Dylan, and I didn't mind doing him a favor, occasionally. He usually offered to order pizza or Chinese food when I helped him out. On his parent's plastic, of course.

I hit the shortcut to bring my monitors back to life and opened various emails. They were about as empty as my checking account. A chain letter from my mom, a couple of spam. No, I don't want a mail-order bride, thank you.

Shifting gears, I logged into the dark web and flipped through a few of the message boards. There were a few new threads, like my favorite hacker group for hire exposed a pedophile. Screenshots of the police reports and news stories from Atlanta flooded the board during my shift at the coffee shop. A new private message pinged, and I opened the chat.

MellowD: Thanks for the tip, JF! You missed all the fun.

I reached for my keyboard, sitting up straighter in my chair. I rarely got to chat with Mel this late. She lived on the east coast, and even though she was a night owl that could put any college student pulling an all-nighter to shame, she worked nights, and so we often missed each other at this time.

JackFrost: Dangers of the day job.

The three little dots blinked, showing Mel was typing back. We'd been talking online for a few years, and she was probably my closest friend, even though we'd never met in person.

MellowD: had the night off. Everyone is partying in voice chat.

MellowD: the group is getting serious. They really want you to join us.

The idea didn't sit well. Groups increased the chances of getting caught, which hello, was how I ended up in hot water back in March. So, no. Not doing that again. I was lucky I only got slapped on the wrist. The stuff that Mel's group got into? Yeah, they took down the occasional pedo and pushed certain whistleblowers into the public's eye, but they also got into some much darker stuff than I was willing to work on. And once you were part of the team, there was no saying 'no.’

JackFrost: I'm not interested in working with a group.

MellowD: I know, but at least I can tell them I tried. Though, seriously, you'd make an awesome add.

Yawning, a quick glance at the clock in the corner of my screen told me it was well after midnight, and the day had been exhausting. I pulled up my work schedule and relaxed. Afternoon shift tomorrow. Win.

JackFrost: I got to crash. ttyl.

MellowD: okies. Night

It felt weird leaving the chat like that. Like, maybe, I'd hurt her feelings by being so abrupt. I logged out and shut down the computer. I would message her tomorrow and apologize. Maybe send her a funny cat photo. She loved those.

The Urban Brew was busy for a Friday afternoon, but one glance at the clients explained why. Some sort of IT company was hosting a conference in one of the nearby hotels, so all seven of our mismatched tables were full, as well as the bar tops that lined the windows overlooking the bay.

Large Mocha, I called out and set a steaming, paper cup on the counter. Turning back to clean up, the front door chime rang yet again.

As usual, we were understaffed, and the manager was out on his lunch break. It was just me and this new girl I'd shared one other shift with. She knew what she was doing, but she would not stop talking about her upcoming wedding. Something about a high-low dress and gold glitter? Like, oh-my-god, 'hashtag' over-it.

Stepping up to the register to take the next order, I barely gave the customer a glance as I signed into my register. What can I get for you?

I'll take a small drip coffee, he said.

His voice sounded familiar, but it was a glimpse of his FBI shield and gun as I looked up at him that made it click. For the first time in weeks, a real smile formed on my face. I met Agent Matthew Benson through my dad. They worked in separate divisions of the Bureau, but the middle-aged agent had needed Dad's help on a special case back when I was still in elementary school, and they'd been friends ever since.

What are you doing here?

Benson grinned as he passed me a five-dollar bill for the coffee. Your father told me you moved out here, and since I'm in town for a case, I told him I'd check in on you.

You didn't need to do that, I said as I handed him his change.

How could I not check in on my favorite little hacker? We haven't talked since March. Can you take a break.

I ignored the 'hacker' crack. This past spring had been eventful, and I had a feeling I'd never outgrow the new family nickname I earned. Benson helped my dad and me out with all the trouble I'd gotten into, but he was right. We hadn't spoken in the six months since I'd moved, and I missed it.

I often thought of Benson like the uncle I'd never had with both my parents being only children. And having someone to talk to that wasn't Dad was sometimes a win-win.

Putting a lid on the coffee, I handed it over to him. My shift ends in an hour. I'm free after that.

Great. I'll be back then and we'll catch up. He waved and walked out to a black SUV waiting on the curb.

Chapter 2

Jack

An hour and a half later, I sat eating tacos across the table from Benson in a cheesy Mexican place down the street from the coffee shop. He offered to pay for an early dinner, and I wasn't about to turn down free food.

So, I assume you moved out here to go to school. Did you find one you like? Benson asked, picking up his burrito.

I played with the straw in my soda. Kind of. I wanted to go to Seattle U, but after what happened?

Benson nodded, finishing a bite. Getting caught hacking into a school server wasn't a smart move, kid.

Shrugging, I took the last bite of my taco to keep from saying anything. The whole situation had gotten way out of hand, and I'd been caught doing the wrong thing for all the right reasons. Changing grades on an encrypted server was a big no-no, even if I hacked into it to change them back to what they were originally supposed to be.

What are you going to do, then? he asked.

Since I don’t have a college fund and can’t get any scholarships? I'm still trying to figure that out. I got a job to keep my parents happy, but it's not like I want to be pouring coffee forever.

The FBI agent leaned forward to take a tortilla chip from the basket between us, his dark salt and peppered hair highlighted by the lamp over us. You got anything going on this weekend?

I thought of the help Cade asked for, but that wouldn't take long. Not really, just a shift or two at work, but other than that I'm free. Why?

Want to help me with a case?

What kind of case?

Benson shrugged and looked at me with a sly gleam in his eye that I recognized. It was the same light I'd seen in him when he would discuss certain cases with Dad in the evenings, after he'd stayed for dinner. The important cases that made or broke careers.

Missing person. An informant of mine has dropped off the map, and I need to find her. She might be at risk.

Something wasn't adding up. Why?

I've been keeping an eye on you, kid, and you’ve got something special. Benson moved his empty plate to the side and leaned his elbows on the table. You got talent with computers, sure. But you got the heart it takes to be a good agent, like your dad. I can see that from what you did back in the spring. Granted, there were better ways to go about it, but that comes with experience.

He grinned, but his eyes were dead serious. I looked away.

I'd hate to see you waste away on minimum wage, when you could be training for something better, he continued when I didn't say anything.

Like I actually wanted to work in the service industry for the rest of my life? Benson knew I'd been eyeing the qualifications to enter the FBI training academy since middle school. But that wasn't even a possibility now. The training academy won't even look at my application unless I've got a bachelor's degree or better. And I can't.

What if there's another way?

I looked up at him. What other way?

Help me find her. I'm sure she's just spooked and gone to ground somewhere, so it should be easy. Then, I can submit a special recommendation to the Academy with proof you've got what it takes. You might have to spend some extra time training, but you'd do it in the Academy.

There's no way that works, I said, shaking my head. Or everyone would be trying to get in on a recommendation.

They don't do it often, that's true, but it's how I got in. I dropped out of college my second year and never looked back. A degree isn't everything, Jack.

I thought about it carefully, wondering if it was really true. If I could get into the FBI Academy without a degree, that would be amazing. What do you need me to do?

Benson opened his suit jacket, reaching into the breast pocket to pull out a small, black thumb drive. Everything I have on her is here, he said, holding it out to me. I need a bead on where in the city she might be, was last seen, that sort of thing.

He wanted me to hack into Seattle’s government networks and use the city's cameras to find her, which was illegal but simple. I'd already done it a couple of times before, back home in Portland and a few months ago after I moved here, to see if I could. At least this time, I would be doing it to help someone.

I took the drive from him. I'll see what I can do.

Thanks, Jack, Benson said. I knew I could count on you.

I caught the bus back to my apartment, determined to catch a couple hours of sleep before going over the information Benson had given. I wasn’t my best when I was tired, and with this, I needed to be on the ball.

My phone rang as I stepped off the bus a block from the apartment complex, and I had to shift my messenger bag to the side to pull it out and answer.

Hey, Jack. How’s it going?

Dad sounded about as tired as I felt, but he was at least making an effort to sound cheery. Continuing down the sidewalk, I kept an eye on the darkening sky above. The forecast hadn’t called for rain, but it was Seattle. I’m okay, what’s going on?

Your mom wanted me to call and check in with you about Thanksgiving. You’re still planning on driving up, right?

I wasn’t looking forward to spending the money on gas to drive back to Portland, but what I could walk away with in leftovers might make up the difference. Plus, after being gone for the past few months, Mom would fuss. Which meant I’d probably come home with a cooler of food I could freeze for later.

Of course, I have to work that Wednesday morning, but I’ll leave afterward.

We can’t wait to see you, kid. It’s been too quiet without you and Chloe fighting three or more times a day.

I laughed. I’m sure we’ll pick up where we left off. You’ll be begging for me to leave by Friday night.

Come on. You said you’d stay until Sunday.

I shrugged before I caught myself. Boss needs me back for the Saturday morning shift. It was all I could do to get Thursday and Friday off.

Your mom will be disappointed, but we’ll be happy you’re able to make it up.

There was tension in his voice, a heavy weight between us. I had a feeling it dealt with what happened back in spring, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask about it. I felt like we had just returned to this new level of normal, and I didn’t want to rock the boat yet.

I ran into Agent Benson today, I said, hoping the change in topic would help.

Papers shuffled in the background. Dad must have been sitting at his desk at the Portland FBI office. Yeah? He did say he was heading out your way for a case.

I bit my lip, wounding how much I should say. This job wasn’t exactly on the books, had he mentioned it to Dad?

Did he?

Oh, crap. Sorry, kid, I got to run. I’m late for a meeting. We’ll catch up when you’re home, okay?

Uh, yeah, sure.

Be sure to call your mother this weekend. She misses you.

Okay.

Dad hung up with a quick, muffled ‘bye,’ and I ended the call on my phone. I was halfway through the complex, walking past the office. I slid my phone into my jacket pocket and pulled out my keys.

It was probably a good thing that I didn’t mention the job. I could always tell him about it later.

That evening, after a nap and a bowl of noodles, I sat at my desk. I surveyed the thumb drive Benson had given me, to see if there was a bug or tracking device on it, before reaching for my burner laptop. I trusted Benson, but I had no clue where he’d gotten this thing, and I wasn’t about to lose one of my computers to a bug. My burner was something that I was particularly proud of. I'd taken an older laptop I’d found at a pawnshop, gutted, and rebuilt it from scratch. The right hardware paired with some of my homemade software made it the perfect device for viewing certain information without being found.

I booted it up and plugged in the thumb drive. Running a few diagnostics before opening the files, I didn’t find anything out of the ordinary as I scanned while flipping the windows open and closed. Benson’s informant was Aria Taylor, and he didn't have much more on her. A photo of a young woman in her early twenties, a date of birth, and a last known address.

Pulling up the Seattle Department of Motor Vehicles website, I ran a code sequence for the password to access the backend of the database. Child’s play. Then, I sent a crawler to look for Aria’s image through all the traffic cameras.

My notification sound went off on my desktop, and I had to set my burner down on the edge of my desk to reply to Mel’s greeting.

JackFrost: hey, what’s going on?

MellowD: bored, everyone’s disappeared for RL stuff tonight. What are you up to?

I watched the crawler work for a moment, thinking over what I wanted to tell her. Keep it simple.

JackFrost: just some research, nothing much.

Turning my attention back to the crawler, I froze.

Holy.

For someone who’d ‘gone missing,’ there were multiple photos and footage of Aria from all over the city in the past month. In nearly every, single one of them, she was with a guy of medium build, light hair, and a haughty expression. They looked nothing alike, so I don’t think they were related. She didn't seem scared or frightened of him, but it didn't seem like they were involved in a romantic sense, either. As if she were bored.

The last video was of her entering a run-down building through an alley entrance a few weeks ago. The angle was sharp, since the camera was set up to catch cars running the nearby light. Footage was a little grainy, but I was pretty sure it was her.

I grabbed a screenshot of the footage and pulled the camera’s location from the DMV’s database, before turning back to my desktop. Mel was a master when it came to finding things, even if she was nowhere near them physically.

JackFrost: How bored are you? Want to do some digging for me?

MellowD: Sure! What you got?

I sent Mel the address for the camera and the screenshot I saved.

JackFrost: What can you find on this building?

MellowD: Seriously? I thought you were going to ask me to do something hard.

While Mel was working on that, I ran a basic web search on Aria’s name, just to see what I could find. It wasn’t more than what Benson had given on the thumb drive.

MellowD: hey, what’s this all about? Why’d you need this?

JackFrost: Just a favor for a friend. We’re looking for someone. Why, did you find something?

Mel was quiet for a few minutes, probably distracted in another window. I gathered the information I’d found and started an email.

MellowD: here’s what I got. I think the place is abandoned though. Probably a dead end.

JackFrost: thanks!

I added the few extra details that Mel was able to find about the building. Like who owned it, when it was last inspected, the blueprints on file at the city’s office, to the email for Benson and sent it.

Benson replied quickly and asked if I wanted to go check it out with him tomorrow morning. I agreed. I had the day off and, honestly, I was really curious about what was going on with this Aria girl.

Chapter 3

Rhys

Ipaid the taxi fare in cash, passing the bills, and a sizable tip, to the driver before climbing out of the vehicle with my heavy, woolen overcoat over my arm. Seattle’s night air was damp and cold, the low clouds heavy with threats of rain. Wind whipped around the buildings of downtown and cut through my suit in a way that reminded me of the brisk, autumn air of home.

A peace came over me, followed quickly on its heels by the spark of adventure. This was what I'd been searching for. This freedom. As much as I cared for my sire and the Clan, their constant motion and strict adherence to the old customs were tiring. It wore on my nerves while thinking over the past century. I'd grown more and more agitated, and Dorian saw through to the heart of it, as he always did.

I stood on the mixed brick and concrete sidewalk, staring past the building my new condo resided in and farther down the two blocks that stood guard between me and the waterfront. I felt more alive than I had in a century. At this very moment, the city called to me in a way that made my bones ache in return. One thing I was certain of, this experience would change me. Only time would tell if it would be for better or worse.

This trip was my leave-taking. My chance to experience life as the more modern vampires of the Blood did for a period of time. The modern world didn't come without its own dangers, and more so than any other vampire in my situation due to my unique condition. Dorian's words of caution still echoed in my mind, even though a week of traveling had passed since I'd departed his company.

Tell no one of your condition, Rhys, he'd warned me again. Not the Owner, nor another of our Clan, if one is to happen by. No one can find out, or it'll be your death.

I pulled out the thick, parchment invitation sent to me weeks ago by Club Ouroboros, the black letters embossed on the front. I needed to pay my respects to the Club and its Owner, before I could settle into my new abode. The faster I did so,