The Vampire Gene

I pulled to the side of the road briefly as a beep from my phone signalled an incoming message. Fergus had sent the addresses of both my targets, as well as Eric's rather extensive criminal history. The police would have a fit if they knew how easy it was for Fergus to access all this information. I scrolled through the documents. Eric was an unrepentant recidivist, his favourite victims were the weak and vulnerable - mostly lonely older people. He also had a thing for underage girls, it seemed. My resolve to punish him strengthened. Eric's sordid past had effectively sealed his future.

James Colborne was different. Not only had he remained outside the law, evading any official recognition of his activities, but he managed to juggle a career as a banker with his career as a criminal. I chuckled. Recent global opinion would suggest that the terms "banker" and "criminal" were almost synonymous. I wouldn't argue - I had met a couple of dozen bankers with some seriously twisted tastes.

None of this mattered much tonight. The fact that these two individuals were a drain on society made very little difference - they had abducted my Rebecca with the intention of selling her into the worst kind of slavery. I thought of the images that had flickered through Julia's mind earlier, and shuddered.

They would die for that.

I entered Eric's address into the satnav and pulled back onto the road, driving mechanically as I followed the monotonous instructions. Eric lived in a local estate, and I decided to drive around it for a few minutes before I pulled up a few doors down from his place. It was about ten minutes to midnight, and the place was deserted, the cold weather having driven everyone indoors. I stepped out of the van and quietly clicked the door shut. Eric's place appeared surprisingly neat, with a trimmed lawn out front, and newly painted window panes. The light downstairs was on, and the faint sound of what could have been a car chase filtered outside. I tapped on the front door with the knuckles of my right hand, and waited.

"Hello?" Eric opened the door wide, obviously unafraid of any potential threats. I smiled at him and pushed him backwards, my hand on his throat, squeezing just enough to make breathing uncomfortable for him. His eyes widened, and he seemed genuinely puzzled by the intrusion. I kicked the door shut behind me, and glanced around. The place looked like an Ikea catalogue, apart from the massive flat screen television that dominated the tiny sitting room. Crime clearly did pay.

I turned my attention back to Eric, whose mouth was now opening and closing, making him look like a fat, pale goldfish. His eyes were bulging too, making the resemblance almost uncanny. I realised that I was squeezing his neck a bit too hard, so I eased off, and he stopped gasping and tried to speak.