George froze.
Gwen, standing not far away, also froze when she saw the female vampire reaching to pull down her father's pants.
Next second—
Gwen bristled and tried to rush in.
Hawk quickly blocked her.
"Wait—what are you doing?"
"She's about to pull down my dad's—"
Gwen spoke on instinct, then suddenly processed it, blinking at Hawk's hand on her arm. "Hold on. Hawk… you guessed this from the start, didn't you?"
Hawk didn't answer.
He just shrugged.
"More or less."
After all, from ancient times to now, blackmail only has a few core tricks.
For someone like George Stacy—mid-level NYPD, upright to the bone—the best leverage is a recording.
A sex tape.
The moment Hawk saw the bearded Black man pull out a handheld camcorder, he'd basically called it.
He just hadn't expected the "partner" to be a female vampire.
He'd assumed they'd bring in a human woman first—have George drink her blood, then make him perform on the spot.
Instead…
Even Hawk had paused a moment.
Gwen gritted her teeth and tried to wrench free. When she couldn't, she glanced at Hawk.
"You're not really going to let my dad do this, are you?"
"No—I'm confirming whether you actually plan to stop it."
"Of course!"
Gwen's brows shot up, eyes wide. "God, Hawk, Mom's only fake-dead—she's not really dead!"
Hawk had his confirmation; he smiled.
"Then let's talk my appearance fee."
"Wait—what?"
Gwen stared. "Appearance fee?"
Hawk shrugged. "If you charge out there right now, this is a vampire base. Without me stepping in, do you think you and George walk out? And the moment you show yourself, the puppet-master realizes the plan's blown—and I still have to step in. So, appearance fee. Starting next month, one full month of uniforms, no repeats. And I don't move."
Cards on the table.
He opened like a lion.
Gwen sucked a breath between her teeth. The quote hit; her thoughts spun. She looked half enlightened, half incredulous, and lowered her voice.
"I knew it—so that's why you 'took me here for free.' I almost thought I misjudged you. 'Give you some trust,' huh?"
"I said that. But you didn't trust yourself. You should've trusted your instincts."
Hawk's smile curled. "My terms stand. One month, no repeat uniforms. I'll supply them."
Gwen shot him a withering look.
"In your dreams. Ten days, tops."
"No. One month."
Hawk shook his head, unmoved.
Gwen's eyes warned him; she bit down. "You're not worried that after one month you won't even get on the bed? Enjoy it now—you'll pay later. Be kind, Hawk."
He shrugged. "We'll talk in a month."
There's a saying:
A thousand years is too long—seize the day.
A man shouldn't tiptoe.
If you want it, do it.
Just do it.
Gwen looked at this man who'd rather risk no bed next month than not enjoy a month now. Her gaze slid to her father, who had just hauled the female vampire back up by the wrists. She drew a long breath, gave a short laugh, stopped struggling, and moved back to Hawk's side.
"Fine. I'm not going. I trust Dad."
"…"
Hawk arched a brow, glanced toward the sofa, then at Gwen, and chuckled. "You know me—my first offer is always the sweetest. Skip it now, next round it's two months."
Gwen clapped both hands over her ears.
Hawk dropped it and looked back to George.
George snapped awake and clamped the female's hands before she could yank at his waistband.
She let out a breathy cry at the pressure of his grip.
"Ah!"
The sound was sultry enough to hook any male into a protective haze.
Except Hawk.
He'd kept his cool when the Vampire Queen Katherine teased him in the crypt.
This painted thing was nothing.
And George wasn't swayed either.
He was a straight arrow; otherwise they wouldn't use a "gift" like this.
Ignoring the vampire's moan, George stared darkly at the bearded man.
"What's the meaning of this?"
"A gift."
The man set down the camcorder and smiled. "Captain Stacy, our lives are very long—long enough for the next century…and the one after. Aaliyah is our most alluring. She's our gift to you. The road ahead is long. It matters to have someone who understands you and stays by your side, doesn't it?"
George's face didn't move.
"Thanks, but I don't need it."
"No—you do."
Still smiling, the man's tone cooled. "I know you loved your wife. But your wife is gone."
George's eyes stayed flat. "Again: I don't want your gift."
Gwen glared daggers at the bearded man.
"I hate this guy."
"Want me to step in?" Hawk slid the line in without missing a beat. "Price still stands—one month of uniforms."
Gwen cut him a side-eye and said nothing.
Hawk, undeterred, chuckled and glanced at the bearded man—encouraging him with a look.
As if to say: c'mon, keep the pressure up; don't drop the ball.
Sure enough—
The man didn't disappoint. Still smiling, he spoke more sharply. "Captain Stacy, this is a gift you cannot refuse."
"Heh."
George let a dry laugh out. "If I refuse, then what—kill me?"
"No, no."
The man shook his head. "Killing you—that's not what we hope to see. And I don't have that authority. As I said, I follow orders. My mission is to make sure you accept this gift. So—help me out, Captain."
George gave the kneeling vampire the briefest glance, then looked back at the man.
"I. Don't. Want. It."
"Then we'll kill Ben Urich."
"What!"
"You heard me."
The smile vanished; the man's face went storm-dark, voice low and threatening. "I can't authorize killing you. But I do have the authority to butcher your partner if you refuse—to carve up Ben Urich."
He clapped his hands.
Next second—
The frosted window to the corridor polarized to one-way transparency.
In the same heartbeat George's eyes cut that way, he sprang up, appearing at the glass in a blink.
The dark-haired vampire slid in front of him again—
But George didn't even look at her.
He stared through the glass at the figure hanging over the crowded floor outside: an older man, gray hair, hog-tied and strung up like slaughter, blood dripping from his limbs—driving the vampires below into a frenzy.
"Put him down!"
"Drain him!"
"Eat him alive!"
The floor seethed with shrieks. Not a drop of pity—only hunger for meat.
Gwen stared, aghast. "Uncle Ben!"
Hawk, hands in his pockets, looked once at the man—a stranger to him—and felt nothing.
He wasn't a saint.
This was a game whose only rule was: does his fiancée ask?
Not Ben, not even George—if Gwen stayed silent, he wasn't moving.
George whirled, ignoring the vampire who blinked in front of him again, and glared at the bearded man.
"What do you want?"
"To be friends."
Lounging back, the man gestured at the sofa George had just left. "Please. Sit."
George's stare didn't waver.
They locked eyes.
Still unruffled, the man snapped his fingers.
Snap!
"Wooahhh!"
"Oh yes!"
"Lower him! Lower him!"
Ben dropped toward the floor like a stone.
"Stop!"
Snap!
Thud—he halted mid-descent.
When Ben stopped, the man looked to George again.
"Sit."
"…"
George drew a breath and finally sat back down.
The dark-haired, voluptuous vampire flashed a coy smile, then sank naturally to her knees before him once more.
And—
George caught her hands again before she could tug his pants, eyes never leaving the bearded man.
If looks could kill, that man would've died a dozen times.
George respected due process.
He wasn't a fool.
In New York City, to openly threaten a cop—
That's eating too many red beans.
It's a death wish.
Any officer who believes he's in danger or under threat can open fire without pre-clearance.
George was no exception.
The bearded man ignored the chill in George's gaze. He kept smiling, though impatience crept into his tone. "Captain Stacy, we've shown you great sincerity. We 'accidentally' killed your wife, yes—but we granted you immortality. We're even compensating you with a gentler, more beautiful, more moving wife who can accompany you forever. Don't refuse a toast only to drink a penalty."
Nice.
Hawk, off to the side, gave the bearded man another mental thumbs-up.
Then—
Grinding.
Hawk cocked an ear to the sound of teeth rasping and looked over at Gwen, whose stare was now pure death at the man's head.
Gentler?
Prettier?
More moving?
Her?
This cheap vampire who tried to strip her dad at first sight—compared to her mother?
Gwen's fists clenched as she stared at the man who'd just weighed her mother against a tramp.
Like father, like daughter.
George endured the warning, eyes ice-cold. "Let Ben go first."
"Heh."
The man laughed outright, his dark face blooming like a chrysanthemum. He snapped his fingers.
Ben dropped again.
George's pupils knifed down.
"Stop!"
Snap!
Thud—Ben froze again.
Now the bearded man stood.
"Captain Stacy, you still don't understand your place."
"At the 21st Precinct, you're the one who speaks and the wind obeys—stern and righteous."
"Here, you are not."
"In the future, you won't be either."
"We invited you into our family because we respect you."
"But—"
"If you don't want to be family, then I'm sorry—you're a dog."
"So."
"Last chance, Captain Stacy."
"Your wife is dead. Frankly, she wasn't much to look at."
"A plain small-town girl."
"And she was already so old."
"Even if she lived, the years would only make her older—and uglier—beside your immortal self."
"…"
He didn't notice Gwen anymore. Her anger had gone still—replaced with something colder, deadlier.
Hawk felt the killing intent knife off her in waves.
The man continued.
"So—"
"Accept our gift."
"I promise—"
"Once you do, you leave here unscathed with your new bride and your partner."
"Because once you accept—"
"We're family."
"And family doesn't make things hard for family."
His voice slid into a final hiss. "But if you refuse—we'll know you don't want to be family. Then you're our dog."
George's heart sank. He kept his face blank, mind racing for a break.
The man didn't give him time.
Seeing George unmoved, he smirked and lifted his hand to snap again.
George's eyes contracted. Just as the hand rose, he released the vampire's wrists.
The bearded man smiled.
He said nothing—just raised the camcorder, flipped it to record, and aimed for the "wedding night."
The kneeling vampire smiled as well, and slid back down—
Gwen smiled too.
A furious smile.
Her mother was alive—and this pack dared deliver a "new wife," belittling that mother over and over.
Her teeth clamped.
"Hawk—"
"Two months."
"…"
Gwen's head snapped toward him, eyes wide.
"What?"
"Now it's two."
"You just—"
"My first terms are always the best. You know that."
Hawk beamed, already raising the price, while the vampire's hands finally tugged at George's waistband.
"Hurry. Clock's ticking."
"…"
Gwen's gaze flicked between Hawk and the vampire's hands at her father's waist.
Next second—
She broke.
She shut her eyes and shouted.
"Fine!"
"Deal!"
"…"
(End of Chapter)
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