Shazi and the Demons of the First Order (Book 1)

Caira

For almost two hundred years I've been a police officer. 

And not once have the police failed to disappoint me with their heroic acts of serving justice. Ever since the first department of police opened up in the United States of America in eighteen-forty-four, I've been its first but ever female officer. 

At least, that's what I like to tell myself. 

But I'm sure that it's a first in America. However, I haven't been walking this Earth for just two hundred years. Twice as much, it would seem. Funny if you think about it. A girl like me enters the police force and nobody questions me about my night shift preferences. They just don't know that it's much easier to avoid unnecessary confrontation that way. I took up the first night shift when it became available, and did it ever since. 

I don't mind being out at night. After all, it's my thing.

I also don't like what I have to do every time I'm out. But it's necessary in order for me to survive. I cover it up as best I can. Most of the time they don't even remember that it was their own colleague that did it to them. 

But I would call that luck. Simple, pure luck. 

One day I know that someone will find me out; it's a miracle no one has already. It's been almost two hundred years of taking photos with my police colleagues, and somehow, they always seem to not notice the way that I haven't changed one bit in any photo. It's probably a lack of human insight. But there was one night that changed the course of my career, probably forever, and I wished I could've gone back and ignored all of it.

I was driving up a freeway towards downtown in my '72, the night air blowing in my face, and I turned a corner into one of the streets of the city. I drove around a bit, and when I was passing by an alleyway, I heard a scream. I parked on the curb, got out of my car and then ran over to the alleyway. It was a dark night, but that did nothing to stop my night vision as I walked into the narrow space and searched the floor. A few steps in and my foot nudged something in front of me. Taking out my flashlight from my pocket, I turned it on and directed the light to the wet floor beneath my feet. 

There was a hand, an arm, a leg, a torso, then a head. 

It was a man. No, a boy. He didn't even look to be close to twenty. 

Crouching down, I got a closer look at the body and saw the widening length of his eyes, and the mass of blood that covered half of his face and some of his clothes. I pressed a hand to the side of his neck, and found no pulse, but when I drew my hand back there was blood on my fingers. I looked up and around, but there didn't seem to be anything out of place. 

Rising to my full height, I pocketed my flashlight and took out my phone, then snapped a quick picture of the body and stuffed the electronic device back into my jeans' pocket. 

Whatever did this wasn't any ordinary murderer. 

It was a vampire. 

And here I was thinking I was the only one about.