She was gagged, then thrown roughly onto the rear seat of a pickup truck. The truck started up and took off with a jolt.  She was being driven somewhere. Jamilla tried to concentrate on everything about the trip. She counted off the seconds, kept track of the minutes. There was stop-and-go city driving, then faster, smoother riding, possibly on Route 1.
Then a very rough road, possibly unpaved. She figured the trip took approximately thirty-seven minutes.
She was carried inside a building, some kind of ranch house or roughshod farm structure. People were laughing. At her? They wore fangs. Jesus. She was put down on a cot in a small room and her gag removed.
‘You’ve come looking for the Sire,’ the one who called himself William whispered, his face up close to hers. ‘You’ve made a terrible mistake. Inspector. This one will get you killed.’ He smiled horribly, and she felt as if she were being both ridiculed, and, at the same time, seduced. William touched her cheek with his long, slender fingers. He lightly caressed her throat, stared into her eyes.
She was repulsed, wanted to run away, but couldn’t do anything.  There were a dozen or so vampires here - watching her like she was meat on a spit.
‘I don’t know anything about a Sire,’she said.’What’s a Sire? Help me out here.’
The brothers looked at each other, shared a knowing smirk. A few of the others laughed out loud.
The Sire is the one who leads,’ said William. He was so calm, so very sure of himself.
‘Who does the Sire lead?’ she asked.
‘Why, anyone who will follow,’ William answered. He laughed again, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely at her expense.  ‘Vampires, Inspector. Others like Michael and myself. Many others, in many, many cities. You can’t imagine the extent of it. The Sire stands firm with simple direction............