Chapter 9

Bruce Wayne

"Alfred, remind me to increase security measures around the house," I said, standing with my arms folded. Instead of being out there doing my nightly job, I was here, watching police officers comb through a wing of the house that was rarely visited. A thief had broken in, stolen my mother's jewelry, and attacked Tanya—two things that put a real annoyance in the back of my mind.

Alfred nodded as he poured a cup of tea and handed it to me, while several officers dusted for prints nearby.

"We'll have to endeavor to implement more security measures, I assume. They managed to knock out the power to this side of the house. Perhaps an emergency generator that will keep the security system running," he suggested.

I nodded in agreement as he seemed to make a mental note of it. Across the way, I could see Detective Bullock chatting with a few of the first responders. I didn't know what he was asking them—probably about what they had seen when they first arrived. I wasn't that familiar with Detective Bullock ; I'd run into him a couple of times. He seemed abrasive, even when he was being helpful, and he wasn't a fan of vigilantes.

I had to keep that fact to myself, though, as I wasn't meeting him as Batman—I was meeting him as Bruce Wayne, technically for the first time, unless we'd crossed paths at a police ball I'd attended six months prior.

Detective Bullock finished his conversation and started moving in our direction, but not to speak to me. We were standing just a few steps away from Tanya, who was sitting in a chair wrapped in Bullock ets, looking tired and sleep-deprived. She was still recovering from being genetically altered at a DNA level, so that was to be expected.

I wanted to ask her questions about who was responsible, but I hadn't had the chance. I arrived after the police, so I was standing close by, hoping to overhear while also doing my duty as an employer, ready to step in if Detective Bullock got a bit too zealous.

Detective Bullock stopped a yard away, looking at Tanya before saying, "Is this going to be a regular occurrence, you getting into trouble, Miss Pennyworth?"

"I hope not," she replied with a hint of charm, sipping a cup of coffee that Alfred had prepared for her. "I'm not a big fan of running into chaotic events like this. The last one nearly killed me, and the one before that probably would have too. I think I need a break... or a vacation."

"That can be arranged," I mused quietly, which got a laugh out of the detective. As he finished walking closer, he leaned against a table, pulling a pen and notepad from his vest pocket.

"Well, I have a general understanding of what was stolen. The why is obvious—it's worth a lot of money. But what I'd like to know from you is anything that can help me catch them. From what I understand, you crossed blades with this pair of thieves, Miss Pennyworth. What exactly did they look like, and what were they up to?"

Tanya sipped her drink before setting down the cup, clearly considering her words before speaking.

"The man went by the moniker 'Thief of Night.' He was wearing an all-black bodysuit with no visible openings. He was rather muscular and seemed to like showing it off. Impressively strong—he lifted an entire wooden chest full of jewels onto his back without issue and moved quickly."

"Hmm, that's odd. You're telling me this guy wore a mask with no eye slits?"

Tanya nodded. "No eye slits. I couldn't tell you his skin color or the color of his eyes. I have no details beyond his size—about 6'2", with a bulky upper body."

"So, I'm looking for a guy who can move around while being half-blind, or maybe completely blind, and has muscles that would make Schwarzenegger jealous?"

"Or at least would be competing with him, yes," Tanya replied, which got a chuckle from the detective as he wrote that down.

"What is with this town and its weirdos?" he muttered, shaking his head. Then he added with a smirk, "I wonder if Batman finally ran out of funds for his gadgets and has moved into a new career path."

It was an annoying statement, but I held my tongue. I didn't want to defend Batman too vehemently and risk giving away my identity.

"Unlikely," Tanya said, catching me by surprise—I hadn't expected her to defend me. "Batman's frame is slimmer, and his jawline isn't as blunt as that man's."

"I see, I see. This is why I use examples like that—it made your mind pop out a few more details now, didn't it?"

Tanya smiled before saying, "You are truly a detective who knows what he's doing, Mr. Bullock ."

"Thank you, thank you, Ms. Pennyworth. Now, the big guy was carrying the loot. What about the woman you mentioned? Were there any identifying details you can give me to help solve the case?"

Tanya leaned back, deep in thought, before she spoke. "The woman was finely dressed. She seemed to have a taste for wealth and luxury. Her hair was styled perfectly, and her skin had an almost luminous glow."

"What?" Detective Bullock asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She was so pale, you could spot her in a pitch-black room," I said.

"Ah, skin the color of tissue paper. Got it," the detective replied, gesturing for Tanya to continue.

"She spoke without any accent that I could detect and had dark hair. Her eyes..." Tanya seemed to think for a moment before adding, "I'm not sure what color her eyes were—it was too dark for those details."

"So, we're looking for a rich woman with pale skin, black hair, and a taste for luxury. That describes half of Gotham. Does it narrow it down that she has a beefcake bodyguard?" he said, glancing between Tanya and me before chuckling.

What was that about? I thought as he glanced at his notes again. He then added, "Any other details you can think of, Miss Pennyworth? What we have so far isn't exactly stellar, and they haven't found any detailed fingerprints yet."

"She's fast. Incredibly fast. I swear, I took my eyes off her for a second, and she had crossed the room, trying to subdue me. Took them off again, and she was out the window."

"Ah, so an Olympic runner. Good to know."

"Sprinter," Alfred corrected.

The detective glanced at him. "Hmm?"

"Runners focus on endurance—how long they can maintain a pace. A sprinter focuses on being as fast as possible over a short distance. This woman would be more like an Olympic sprinter."

"Right," the detective said, giving Alfred a look before nodding and jotting something down. Then, he turned back to Tanya. "Anything else you can think of? Anything at all?"

Tanya raised her hand to her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, deep in thought, before saying, "I don't think this is the first time I've seen her."

"Oh?" the detective asked, leaning forward with interest.

"About two months ago, there was a party here at Wayne Manor. During the party, I ran into a woman who had wandered away from the main areas. I sent her back, not thinking much of it, but I swear she looked like the woman I ran into tonight."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, and I glanced at him. He shrugged as Detective Bullock looked to me. "You have a list of people who were here at that party two months ago?" he asked, and I nodded.

"We do. I'll have Alfred go through the records from that night. Everyone who attended had to make a donation—unless, of course, they snuck in. But we have security cameras on the premises. I'll have to see if we caught this woman on camera. If it's the same one, we might get a lead."

"I can have a few of my tech guys look through your footage," the detective offered, but Alfred stepped in, thankfully.

"I'm afraid that wouldn't be wise. There are often meetings here with business leaders and political figures. There's always a chance we might have footage of someone wandering off with someone they're not supposed to be with—if you catch my drift, detective. My security team will review the footage, and if we find anything relevant, we'll pass it along. Though I wouldn't put too much stock in it—we have a policy of deleting footage after one month."

"Hmm, interesting. And this party was two months ago? Makes me wonder if they knew about that one-month deletion routine."

Thoughtfully, I considered his point. It was more likely a coincidence. Even I hadn't known about the one-month deletion policy. Still, I had to give him credit—Detective Bullock was determined to do his job. But the question lingered: was there anyone I knew with dark hair and pale skin who might have known about that routine?

Theoretically, no one should know this—Nocturna and the Thief of Night are outsiders, and they wouldn't have that information. If I were a petty man, I might ask Alfred later who could know this, just to solve the case myself. But I wasn't petty, and I wasn't against letting the cops do their job. It's rare for them to do it well, but I was more than willing to let them try. So, I asked the question.

"Alfred, who would know about the one-month routine, out of curiosity?"

Alfred looked at me thoughtfully, rubbing his chin before replying. "Well, really only three people: the person who set up the system, Lucius Fox, myself, and the security tech manager over at Wayne Tech who sometimes comes here to ensure the cameras are functioning properly."

"Hmm. Well, Mr. Pennyworth, have you ever mentioned this to anyone before? Ever gotten so drunk you might have talked about it?" the detective asked, which earned him a scowl from Alfred.

"Good sir, I will have you know that I only drink in my private study, here on this property, and only when I am certain the day is done—and never to such a degree that I would spill Wayne family secrets."

"So, you wouldn't have let it slip. Got it. All right, that leaves Lucius Fox and the security guy over at Wayne Tech. We'll need to ask them some questions, see if they can give us anything else."

"I'm sure they'll be happy to answer those questions," I said, watching as the detective closed his notebook with a snap, the pages making a low noise as he straightened them.

"One more thing," he said, raising a finger in thought. "Is there anything else you can think of that might help in this case, Miss Pennyworth? You're the only witness, so I have to ask."

Tanya mused for a second before shaking her head. "Nothing in particular comes to mind. It was just some criminal attempting to steal from Mr. Wayne's property. I defended myself, and I've given you the best witness statement I can."

"Hmm, yeah, defended yourself," he said. "You know, I have to ask: the last time you defended yourself, you left a robot dead on the ground. Still trying to figure out how in the hell that's even possible. So, how come this Nocturna didn't end up dead?"

"What are you implying?" I asked, not liking his tone.

"Wasn't asking you that question, Mr. Wayne. I'm just saying, it seems odd that someone who's able to defend themselves so efficiently in one instance didn't manage to do it this time. One might question if they're not telling me everything—some detail that might be important."

"I have told you everything that I remembered at the time, but I guess I just thought of one thing," Tanya said, breaking the flow of the conversation.

"Oh?"

"Yes, this Nocturna... she seemed to have some sort of affinity for vampire culture. I swear she had her canines sharpened into fangs, like a vampire."

"Wow, that narrows things down quite a bit," the detective replied dryly. "Though it still doesn't explain why you weren't able to take her down."

"She was extremely lucky," Tanya said, though even I wasn't buying it. I raised an eyebrow at that. It sounded a little off for her, like she was holding something back.

Detective Bullock nodded, then sighed and shook his head. "Well, I guess that's all I'm getting out of you. If you think of anything else, here's my card," he said, flipping a card out of his jacket pocket to Tanya, who caught it mid-air between two fingers.

"Nice moves," Detective Bullock said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he added, "You can go back to sleep. You look like you could use it, Miss Pennyworth."

"Thank you," she said, getting up and walking out of the room.

I nodded to the detective and said, "Good luck. We'll send you any footage as soon as we find it."

"Here's hoping you do. Not a lot of evidence right now," he muttered as Alfred and I stepped out of the room. I quickly used my longer stride to catch up to Tanya as she headed towards the side of the house where her room was. Once I was sure we were far enough from the police, I asked, "You held something back—something you didn't want the police to know. Care to tell your boss?"

"Depends. Will I be fired for saying crazy things?"

I chuckled before replying, "This is Gotham. You nearly turned into a bat-human hybrid. I think I can give you some leeway when you say crazy things."

Tanya nodded before saying, "It wasn't just a vampire culture thing. I swear that woman teleported, like in an old vampire movie."

I raised an eyebrow. "What, like she turned into a bat, fluttered away, and reappeared somewhere else?"

"Perhaps," she replied matter-of-factly. "It was dark, so all I can say for sure is that she moved from one place to another quickly, and that her hand was as deadly as the blade I was wielding—capable of embedding itself into the wall, which I believe the crime scene investigators will soon figure out."

"Seems like a minor detail to keep from the cops, especially if there's going to be evidence of it soon enough."

Tanya nodded again. "From the cops, yes, but cops tend to talk about minor details. We don't need them drinking at a bar, talking about the crazy maid over at old Wayne Manor who claims she was attacked by a vampire woman, only for the news reporter who hangs out at that bar to report it the next day, leading to rumors."

I nodded; she made sense. News reporters could be tricky like that, and the police weren't exactly known for being incorruptible or keeping things quiet. "Good plan to keep it quiet, then," I said, affirming her decision. She smiled as we reached the door of her room, turning towards me and giving a slight bow.

"Thank you for taking care of me while I recover from this illness, Mr. Wayne. I've been feeling out of it."

"You're welcome, though if I'd known this place would be attacked by a vampire the night you decided to stay here, I think I might have let you stay in the hospital a few more days."

She chuckled. "Knowing my luck, a syringe monster would have crawled out of the garbage chute."

"We need to find a way to turn your luck around, then," I mused, which got another chuckle from her.

"Maybe being around here will do that just fine, Bruce," she said.

I tilted my head, somewhat surprised that she finally called me Bruce without any prompting on my part. Maybe we were getting somewhere with the friendship we were building.

"Well, Tanya, I hope you have a good night's sleep. You need to rest, and hopefully, there won't be any more excitement for the rest of the week."

"Here's hoping," she said with a nod, giving another bow before turning towards the door, opening it, and stepping through. "Good night, Bruce."

"Good night, Tanya."

The door shut, and I turned to see Alfred smirking. "What are you smirking about?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing, sir. Nothing at all. Now, I assume that you'll be going out this evening?"

"You assume correctly, Alfred," I said, moving quickly to a part of the house where we wouldn't be seen. Closing a door behind me, I moved to a grandfather clock and pressed a switch, causing it to slide to the side. I stepped into the hidden passage and pressed the switch again to close it, nodding to Alfred on my way. He would take the stairs later, I was sure.

Grabbing onto the fireman's pole, I slid down into the darkness, preparing for tonight.

Batman

There were three people who knew about the security system and how often the data was purged—unless some special occasion required us to keep it. One was Alfred. He wouldn't divulge a secret like that; it's simply not in his nature.

The second was Lucius Fox. Lucius wasn't privy to the particulars of my activities. I'd helped him move up into a top position in the company, so he managed it for me. As a thank-you, he didn't ask questions about the materials I requested or what I did with the money I took out of the company—mainly because I kept it small enough that it wouldn't actually affect the business.

He wouldn't share that kind of information either; it wasn't in his nature. Maybe one day I'd bring him into the whole Batman operation, but that day wasn't today, or anytime soon. It wasn't that I didn't trust him—it's just that a secret can only stay a secret if very few people know it, and the best secrets are held by only one person.

That left the security tech guy at Wayne Tech—the same company that had been hit in the last 48 hours by a mafia raid trying to extract advanced technology from the facility.

The same company that hadn't informed me about one of their employees going off-script with their search into biotechnology.

Granted, that last detail might not be related, but it still suggested that there was a rot within Wayne Tech.

I doubted the security manager, Morgan, knew about this. He seemed reasonable, not a likely problem. But the security tech guy, someone I'd never met, was a good suspect—at least somewhere to start. I didn't know where to look for a vampire, except maybe a goth club, and while some might accuse me of brooding, I was not goth. I wouldn't fit in, and I'd be spotted quickly.

That said, as I landed on the top of the Wayne Tech Tower, I wondered if the tech manager had gotten drunk and let slip some secrets he shouldn't have. It would explain the situation and give me a starting point. But for now, I needed to ask him some questions.

Quietly, I walked down the internal stairs to the 8th floor—two floors beneath the rooftop—and made my way to the security management room. Placing my hand on the knob, I turned it and stepped into the room, expecting to see security monitors and a man half asleep.

Well, I was half right. There were security monitors and computers, and a man sitting in a chair in front of a computer.

"Mr. Morgan," I said, having already looked up his name before I left Wayne Manor.

I expected him to jump or react, but instead, he just continued staring at the monitor, unmoving.

That's not good, I thought, stepping forward and placing my hand on the man's shoulder—only for his head to slump to the left, revealing two incisions on his neck. Two trails of blood led from the wounds down to his shoulder, staining his uniform with a significant amount of blood.

Now this isn't good, I thought as I turned the body, quickly placing my fingers to his neck to confirm he was dead. Shaking my head in disappointment as I felt no pulse, I confirmed that the man was gone. How long had he been dead? I didn't know—could be 24 hours, maybe less. Was Nocturna covering her tracks? That seemed likely. So, most likely, Morgan had leaked the information, but... why hadn't he shown any signs of panic or struggle?

I took a knee and pulled out a flashlight, turning it on to examine the marks. If I were a man working at a computer, I'd be startled if I felt two points entering my neck and would try to defend myself. But as far as I could see from the work desk in front of him, there had been no struggle.

The reason there appeared to be no struggle became apparent rather quickly. There were more marks on his neck—older ones. Two piercing wounds here and there. Curious, I moved to the other side and turned his head, finding similar marks. He had been bitten before—and hadn't died.

Was Tanya right in assuming this was a vampire? Vampires weren't supposed to be real, but then again, biotechnology could create Man-Bat. Who's to say that Man-Bat wasn't working with some scientist who had been in my lab and turned themselves into Nocturna? I hated the idea that this was even a possibility.

Shaking my head, I clicked on the computer to see if it had been active during the attack. Perhaps there were some records of what had gone down that could give me a lead on locating Nocturna and dealing with her.

Unfortunately, the screen that popped up was the security code screen, which meant I'd have to do things the hard way. Reaching into one of the pouches on my belt, I pulled out a USB drive and plugged it in. It would copy all the information on the computer in a matter of minutes, allowing me to review it back at the Batcave on my own time.

While I waited, I activated my communicator. "Alfred, how's the progress with checking our own security cameras?"

Alfred's voice came back, sounding perturbed. "Erased. Oddly enough, this month's footage was erased today. It appears the signal was sent from Wayne Tech. I'll need to contact Lucius Fox to see if we can prevent that from happening in the future. Did you find anything of interest with Mr. Morgan? Did he provide any information?"

"I don't think he's going to be speaking for a long time," I said, glancing at Mr. Morgan's lifeless body. "And about Tanya's claims regarding vampires... they might hold some weight. Either he was being monitored, or perhaps something more sinister."

"Sir?" Alfred asked.

I clarified, "His neck is full of bite marks. He does seem to have been drained of blood in his final moments, but it looks like he's been in some kind of relationship with someone who's been biting his neck for a while now. Some of the wounds are old, scarred over."

"Very odd, sir. So, Mr. Morgan is no longer with us, and he most likely was working for this Nocturna. It's fortunate that our security systems prevent anyone from accessing those cameras remotely from Wayne Tech."

"Agreed, though I have to wonder if there's a larger conspiracy at play here, Alfred. The man in charge of monitoring everyone through the cameras was working for an unknown agent all this time. Could the attack on Wayne Tech be connected to this Nocturna?"

"I'd like to say no, sir. However, if this person was indeed at our party two months ago, I'd estimate there's a small chance they could be involved with the attack."

"So, we have an unknown woman who's targeting my events, stealing equipment from my labs, taking jewels from my mother's collection, and assaulting my maid." I shook my head. "It seems very targeted, but I have no idea why or who this person could be."

"Agreed," Alfred said before adding, "Though, if they seem to be targeting you so specifically, it does strike me that there might be a way to draw them in."

"You have an idea, Alfred?" I asked, glancing at the nearby screens to make sure nothing else was going wrong, especially with our security manager currently deceased.

"October 31st is around the corner in a week or two. If this person is a vampire or even a vampire enthusiast, a Halloween gathering might be just the thing to lure them in. At the very least, it could provide enough clues to direct the police, and at most... well, if they attempt any more thefts at your party, it would be within your rights to apprehend them—either as Bruce Wayne or as the Dark Knight."

I chuckled, nodding. "That's a good point, Alfred. A good point indeed."

"Very well, sir. I'll start preparing what we'll need for the event. We needed to host a Halloween event anyway, so..."

I trailed off as I thought I heard something.

Turning my head, I looked back over my shoulder, hearing Alfred say, "Sir, is something wrong?" As my eyes scanned the room, everything seemed the same. Wait, hold on. I tilted my head, turning around—the body had moved.

The head, which had been leaning to one side, was now upright, staring at the screen.

"What the...?" I muttered out loud as the body then stood up. I took a step back in surprise as it wobbled on unsteady legs before turning to face me.

It moaned, raising its hands as it started to move toward me. "Mr. Morgan," I said, raising a hand, trying to make sense of what I was seeing as the body stumbled forward. "Please sit back down. You've obviously lost a lot of blood."

I wasn't sure if it was even worth trying—there seemed to be a very real possibility we were dealing with something unnatural, which I didn't want to believe in, but it was becoming harder to deny. The corpse stumbled toward me and tried to lunge. I sidestepped it, and it crashed into the lockers with a heavy bang. Quickly, I repositioned myself with my back to the security system as the reanimated corpse—because that's what it had to be—moaned and started moving toward me again.

"Sir, what's going on?" Alfred asked.

I replied simply, "Mr. Morgan has stood back up, and he is not alive."

"What?" Alfred said in shock, as the creature lunged at me again. It clearly didn't have much intelligence; I dodged it once more, and the creature slammed into the electrified televisions. It became tangled in the cables, and the air filled with the sounds of zapping and sizzling before it went limp, no longer moving.

"We're dealing with something outside the norm, and I do not like that," I said, moving up to the body and shaking my head as it lay crumpled against the wall.

"What do we do, sir?" Alfred asked. I thought for a moment, then shook my head and moved over to an emergency panel. I pulled the switch, which would send an alert that something had happened on this floor, prompting the security teams to respond.

Stepping outside, I started moving back to the top of the building through the same stairwell I had come down. As I spoke, I kept my voice level. "We do what we can. We gather as much intel as possible, and we figure out how to defeat this... criminal. We have to ensure they don't cause any more problems or deaths than we can prevent."

Alfred made a noncommittal noise—he wasn't sure, and frankly, neither was I. But I had to keep my mind focused. That was the only way we were going to pull this off.