Fang & Metal: A Science Fiction Vampire Detective Novel (Vampire Detective Midnight Book 4)

by JC Andrijeski

  “In that sense, you are right. It was perhaps not you, in the technical sense,” Malek added. “But you asked others to do it. I suspect you even paid others to do this for you. Seers. Vampires, too, if I am not mistaken. It is what I saw, and what makes the most sense, based on the nature of this block.”

  Nick stared at him.

  He fought with Malek’s words, trying to make sense of them.

  “Why the fuck would I do that?” he said finally.

  Malek sighed.

  He glanced at his sister, who was back to looking between Wynter and Nick, her eyes wider than usual. The look there wasn’t quite wariness, it was more like that lingering shock Nick had seen in Wynter’s office. Tai was looking at Nick and Wynter like she couldn’t believe what was going on between the two of them.

  After a beat, Malek turned his eyes back to Nick’s.

  “I suspect this will anger you,” the prescient said, just as calmly. “But Ms. St. Maarten asked me to look into you. When you first crossed our radar. When you first came to us, after you helped Tai in that park. Lara asked me to use my…” He glanced up when his sister nudged him, noting the surveillance in the corners of the cabin they shared. “…my own resources. To learn what I could.”

  Nick scowled.

  Glancing around at the cameras himself, he clicked over to a channel in his headset.

  “Hey, kid,” he said, as soon as she picked up. “You waiting for us?”

  Kit’s enhanced blue eyes showed up in his headset, wider than usual.

  “Not for you. Jesus, Nick. Are you really coming to New York? Didn’t you get the message? St. Maarten wanted you to stay away. She really thinks you’re being targeted by this Dimitry Yi group. As in, specifically you, Nick––”

  But he was already frowning, pushing away her words.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said. “And I’ll deal with Lara. Look. I’ve got a more immediate thing. We’re on the train, and we need to be able to talk freely. We’re heading down now on the express, from the Northeastern Protected Area––”

  “Got it. Cabin 568-F.”

  “Yeah. That’s us.”

  “I’ll shut it all down, Run a loop. No worries.”

  Nick felt his shoulders relax.

  “Thanks, kid. Another one I owe you.” Pausing, he added, “Can you go back to the beginning of the train ride for that? Blank it all out? I don’t remember any of us saying anything incriminating, but just to be safe.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” she said. Kit’s dark eyebrows rose suggestively. “You talking about anything interesting, Naoko? Mind if I listen in?”

  “Would it matter if I said no?” he said drily.

  She laughed, shaking her head. “Probably not.”

  Nick grunted, half in annoyance, but he needn’t have bothered.

  She’d already clicked off.

  He refocused on the room, scowling faintly.

  He found the rest of them watching him, almost like they knew he’d checked out for those few seconds. Which meant, they probably did know.

  Staring around at the three of them, Nick growled,

  “That was Kit. I had her turn off surveillance. Not like you wouldn’t have gotten our names flagged by now anyway,” he added, gruff, giving Malek a darker look. “Just know she might be listening. Which means Archangel might be listening, too.”

  Wynter frowned, but Nick saw something in her face and body relax.

  It was enough to frustrate him all over again.

  Just who the fuck did she think he’d been talking to?

  She gave him a hard look, lifting one eyebrow.

  The look there wasn’t hard to read, and brought Nick’s anger back in a harder flush.

  Jesus. That was great.

  So now he was just an all-around asshole and cheater? With multiple men and women on the side, apparently? People he talked to while sitting right in front of her, her blood still running through his veins? Because that made all kinds of sense.

  Wynter’s eyes grew a few shades colder.

  “Ah.” Malek nodded, seemingly oblivious to Nick’s frown, or the look on Wynter’s face, or the corresponding waft of rage coming off Wynter’s light.

  “Well, then,” the prescient continued. “…I will just tell you. On behalf of Ms. St Maarten, I did time and other Barrier jumps, looking at your past. I did it again after you joined the fight club, and Ms. St. Maarten learned of your past affiliation with White Death.” Malek glanced at Wynter, then back at Nick. “Lara wanted to know, in particular, why it was you joined that organization. It struck her as… out of character.”

  Nick frowned. He glanced at Wynter, too.

  Her face was unreadable.

  He couldn’t hear anything through the blood, so he assumed she was blocking him again. Probably in the hopes of learning more than she trusted Nick to tell her on his own.

  At his thought, she turned, her eyes hardening once more on his.

  Reading the look there, Nick scowled.

  He aimed his frustration at Malek.

  “And?” Nick growled. “So you looked into me. For St. Maarten.”

  “Yes.”

  “And in all this ‘looking into me,’ you found out I erased my own damned mind?”

  Malek nodded, his expression placid.

  “Yes.”

  “And why the fuck would I do that? Because you still haven’t said.”

  Malek answered without hesitation.

  “You suffered a serious trauma,” the prescient said. “The death of your mate. You looked for numerous ways to cope with this. From what I could tell of your mental state at the time, initially, you had hoped his death would kill you.”

  Malek glanced at Wynter, then aimed his mismatched eyes back at Nick.

  “…When it did not kill you, you considered killing yourself,” he added. “I do not know why, exactly, you decided against that. I was unable to see that part. But in the end, you compromised by trying to erase your own mind. You went to various resources for this. I think the first few attempts must have been unsuccessful, or only partly successful, since you continued to try. In the end, you joined the White Death. You cut yourself off from everyone who had known you when you were with your mate. You had several of your new vampire colleagues attempt to erase you as well. Perhaps this is when it finally took––”

  But something in Nick couldn’t hear any more.

  He couldn’t hear any more.

  He couldn’t hear any more.

  His mind fuzzed out, stopped listening.

  He didn’t listen to Malek.

  Some part of him heard the seer talking, but he stopped listening.

  At some point, he stood up.

  He might have said something.

  He might have said something in a loud voice. He might have shouted, or even snarled some words. He didn’t know what he’d said, or if he’d said anything at all, or if what he said made sense. He suspected he did say something. He saw the seer kid, Tai, jerk in her seat. From the look on her face, he’d really scared her.

  He didn’t feel good about that.

  He didn’t like that at all.

  On the other hand, he really wanted Malek to stop talking. He wanted the prescient to stop… and whatever Nick said, whatever look he had on his face, whatever tone he used… it was enough to get the prescient to shut up.

  Tai continued to stare up at him.

  Her eyes grew so wide, staring up at Nick, it silenced him.

  Eventually he looked away. That pain in his chest blinded him. He glared back at the prescient seer, an open threat in his voice, and hopefully in his face.

  “We aren’t going to talk about this anymore,” he said.

  “You asked.” Malek’s voice remained maddeningly calm, strangely clear through the fog of Nick’s mind. “You asked for the truth.”

  “I know what I asked. I’m telling you to stop. I’m telling you to stop talking now. I need you to shut the fuck up and stop talking no
w, Malek. I need you to be quiet.”

  The words came out fast and hard, a near stream of consciousness.

  As he spoke them, Nick reached up and gripped his own chest, as if to hold back whatever it was that wanted to burst out of the middle of it.

  There was a silence when he finished.

  In it, Nick continued to stand there, gripping the front of his shirt. He stood over and stared at Malek alone, at those mismatched eyes, and fought to keep from screaming at him.

  Maybe just screaming. Maybe breaking something.

  He had no words left. He had nothing he wanted to say.

  He just wanted it to stop.

  He needed it to stop.

  The two seers watched him, warily. Nick saw the looks on their faces, the caution and nerves in their eyes. He couldn’t tell if it was fear exactly. It probably wasn’t fear. Tai could break him in two if she wanted… so it wasn’t fear.

  No one moved.

  Wynter wouldn’t look at him.

  After a few more seconds, Tai wouldn’t look at him, either.

  Only Malek continued to study Nick’s face.

  “Why?” the prescient said, glancing between him and Wynter. “Why would you want me to be silent about this? You want the truth. Even your mate can feel that on you. You don’t understand what’s happening to you. You don’t understand the dreams you are having about this male seer. You don’t understand why you don’t remember him, or remember anything about that time. I am able to provide insight and information relating to both things. It may not be easy or comfortable to hear, but it seems counter-productive to silence me.”

  Nick didn’t have an answer for that.

  Truthfully, he could barely make sense of it.

  Something in him felt unmoored, even more than he had with Wynter earlier.

  Erased his own mind.

  He’d erased his own fucking mind.

  Was the seer right?

  Was Malek right?

  How was that even possible?

  He would have thought it wasn’t possible… not for a vampire.

  Was that really why he’d joined the White Death? He hadn’t remembered those two events coinciding––he hadn’t remembered those two events at all––but is that what happened? Had he joined up with Brick in a fit of suicidality, due to a grief he couldn’t cope with, maybe with the intent to kill himself some other way?

  And why the fuck hadn’t he killed himself?

  If it was that bad, why hadn’t he just ended it?

  And why couldn’t he remember that, either?

  But now he was thinking about this.

  He was thinking about it, and he didn’t want to be thinking about it. He didn’t want to puzzle over the truth of it. He didn’t want to try to force his mind to come up with answers. If he’d erased it, he had a damned good reason.

  He’d never dwelled on why he joined the White Death.

  He couldn’t remember ever questioning that.

  He had a whole list of stock replies, just waiting for someone to ask, but he’d never thought about whether he believed any of them.

  The truth was, Malek was right… he didn’t remember.

  He didn’t remember anything about joining the White Death.

  He remembered a lot more about his decision to leave.

  He remembered being in the White Death itself, what it did to him, the fucking games Brick used to play, the death, the sickness of it. He remembered a lot more about that, about what it tried to turn him into, who he would have become if he’d stayed.

  He glanced at Wynter.

  As soon as he did, that pain worsened in his chest. She was wiping tears from her eyes, but even in that, he couldn’t read her. She felt lost to him. Everything about her felt lost to him, as if she’d already erected a wall between them, one that emitted no light.

  He was still staring at her when she cleared her throat.

  She didn’t look at him.

  She looked at Malek.

  “How long?” she said. “How long was Nick with him? This ‘Jem’?”

  The prescient seer looked at her.

  A faint frown touched his sculpted, seer lips.

  “I don’t know precisely,” he said. “Over a hundred years.”

  Nick felt his chest close.

  He’d been watching Wynter’s face as the prescient spoke; he saw Malek’s words hit her. He saw it like a gut-punch, like all the air left her lungs. Even with that wall erected between them, he felt the seer’s words physically hurt her.

  “A hundred years,” she said dully.

  Her voice was as expressionless as her eyes.

  She still didn’t look at Nick.

  “More than that, probably,” Malek said. “But at least that, yes.”

  “How did he die?” Wynter said. “How did Jem die?”

  Malek shook his head, his lips tightening.

  “That, I do not know. That is something your husband managed to erase from his mind totally. I was able to see that Dalejem died from Nick’s reaction to it. I was not able to find the death itself, even doing time jumps. But,” he shrugged, holding up his hands. “Unlike vampires, seers do not live forever, sister. It is possible he simply died of old age.”

  There was a deeper silence.

  Malek frowned, again looking between them.

  “This jealousy,” he said. “I do not understand it. I really don’t.”

  Nick stared at him.

  “It is unwarranted,” Malek added, his voice openly puzzled. “You both know that, right? From the outside, it is quite… perplexing.”

  Nick continued to stare at him.

  Briefly, his anger flared hot enough to snap him out of his paralysis.

  “I know you’re not exactly helping, cousin,” he growled at the seer.

  Malek’s voice remained implacable.

  “You know seers.” Malek looked at Wynter, that puzzlement visible in his eyes. “You know seers. You know how mates work.”

  Wynter’s jaw hardened.

  She folded her arms more tightly across her chest.

  Malek looked between them, his puzzlement deepening.

  “I do not understand,” the prescient said, clicking under his breath. His confusion seemed to turn into something closer to annoyance. “I do not understand any of this. This seems like needless mental anguish to me. Why are you both upset about this?” He looked at Wynter. “It strikes me you have both been lucky. Very lucky. Very, very lucky.”

  Wynter gave him a disbelieving look.

  She glanced at Nick, looking away at once, as if something in his face hurt her, too. Her arms wrapped more tightly around her torso, like she was using them as a shield.

  “Lucky?” she said. “Where’s the ‘luck’ in this exactly, brother Malek?”

  Malek’s lips pursed.

  He looked at Tai, who shrugged, her eyes rolling back in her head in a very teenager-y way. Her fear appeared to be gone. Even her shock seemed to have mostly dissipated. She mostly looked annoyed now, like her brother.

  Malek swiveled his gaze back to Wynter, then to Nick.

  “You found one another,” he said. “You found one another.”

  Nick stared at him.

  “What?”

  Malek looked between them.

  He blinked at Nick. He blinked at Wynter. He motioned towards her with a graceful sweep of one hand, his eyes meeting Nick’s.

  “Seers do not have multiple mates,” Malek said, his voice patient, as if he was explaining something very simple, something very obvious, perhaps to two very young children. “Neither, I would guess, do vampires. Your mate is your mate. Who did you think she was?”

  There was a silence.

  When no one broke it, Malek exhaled.

  He looked at Wynter again, his eyes now openly frustrated.

  “I do not understand this jealousy. You are jealous of yourself. Why would you be jealous of yourself? It is a previous incarnation, yes. But it is still you.”
He looked between the two of them, frowning openly. “Why are you not happy that you have found one another again? I would think this is a cause for great joy, yes?”

  Nick’s throat closed.

  He stared at Malek.

  He stared at Malek a lot longer than he needed to.

  He stared at him well past the time it took for the prescient’s words to sink in.

  He understood.

  He knew what the seer was saying.

  He’d gotten it at least a few seconds before the seer felt the need to spell it out blatantly to the two of them. Some part of him continued to examine the seer’s words anyway, looking at everything Malek had said as if it came from a very long way away.

  Then, without having broken through that silence in his head, much less the silence in the small train cabin…

  Nick turned away from all three of them.

  He walked to the door of the cabin.

  He opened the door.

  He walked out.

  Nick spent the rest of the train ride in the bar.

  He did something he hadn’t done in a while.

  He drank.

  He did shots more or less as fast as the train’s bartender would bring them to him.

  Granted, he knew it wouldn’t help.

  His damned vampire constitution burned through alcohol just like it burned through everything. But it gave him something to do while he waited for his mind to level. It gave him some place to be while he fought not to think about what he’d just heard.

  More than anything, it gave him an excuse to be away from the rest of them.

  It gave him an excuse to be away from Wynter.

  He didn’t realize how long he’d been there until the bartender cut him off. Nick bristled at first, then the human pointed to the warning lights blinking over the car doors. When Nick only stared at those lights blankly, the bartended informed him they were closing up, that Nick had to return to his assigned seat for the train’s deceleration.

  When Nick continued to stare at him, fighting to absorb the thirty-something male human’s words given the amount of vodka he’d just pounded, the bartender shrugged apologetically, reminded him it was the law.

  By then, Nick figured out he was drunk.

  He knew it wouldn’t last long, but for now, he really was drunk. For the same reason, it was… interesting… making his way back to the cabin.