Dark Tidings: Volumes I & II

by Gregory M. Smith

  She looked up from her thoughts and saw the stout guardian named Jennifer standing in the doorway.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said that Ian just called and will be over here shortly,” Jennifer repeated, sounding like she was in a foul mood. “In about an hour.”

  “Thank you,” Diane said.

  When the woman was gone, Diane went back to thinking. She only had an hour to come up with a completely different plan.

  Louis Riordan should have been more confident. He had practically sewn up the leadership of the new alliance. The others had taken his suggestion of a combined enforcer squad under Lin Tang’s command without any protest. Despite all the good news, he was very troubled.

  Kane’s ashing. Having Lin eliminate Kuster. Duke’s assassination. Even the failure of Pratt and the police in finding Kane’s victim. And now, the latest incident – the attack on familiars in a building right across the street from where he held his ball for the other clan masters. One dead, another maimed by a cattle prod to the crotch. A third familiar was missing and he could only assume that she was dead.

  To blame it all on the Supreme Council would be foolish. The Council could be cruel, but not stupid. It would not kill members of the clans, even if it thought seriously about showing the large clans as weak. While it might help the Council recruit among the unincorporated clans, it would invite retaliation and, possibly, war.

  No. Somebody was openly challenging his rule. And, he had no real clue who it could be. So far, Lin Tang had sicced her best half-dead on a man named Ian Hendricks, who was also working for Aurelia Hernandez. It seemed that particular avenue yielded no useful information yet. Travis Pratt had gone back to the hospital to question the injured familiar as to his attacker’s identity. It galled him to have to depend on others for such crucial information.

  To make matters worse, strong doubts had begun to creep into his psyche. Was the person or persons responsible somehow connected to one of the other clan masters? Was it a subtle way of undermining his authority? If so, who could it be?

  His first choice would have been Edge Ringgold. The man was an uncouth lout, who felt no apprehension at challenging his authority in front of the others. Then again, only Giancarlo Tesino could have had the clout to hire mercenaries or professionals bold enough to do the deed in Riordan’s backyard.

  Riordan was going to have a lot of trouble sleeping for the next few days, until he got some answers.

  If Louis Riordan was troubled, Travis Pratt was angry. Until now, he had enjoyed the fruits of his position as Riordan’s head of security. No one had really ever challenged Riordan, as far as humans were concerned, so the job was a piece of cake. Any upstart vampires faced the wrath (and swords) of Lin Tang.

  Now, however, he had been touched. One of his familiars – albeit not a very good one – was dead. Another had been maimed and still couldn’t talk. A third had simply disappeared. The best clue he had involved an actual dead guy and the possibility that maybe an ally of said corpse was in town. Of course, nobody knew what allies, if any, Cantrell Ryker ever had. At least, ones who hadn’t been killed already.

  So, here he was, heading back into the hospital to talk to his only witness, a man who once had the biggest balls among his familiars. Now, thanks to an unknown assailant and a cattle prod, the man had none.

  He strode into the lobby, Porter Coleman and two other familiars in tow. Instead of going to the information desk, he cut right and headed for the elevators. He took his group to the basement where the hospital’s main laboratories and blood banks dwelled.

  Pratt had an intern in one of the laboratories on retainer and relied heavily on the woman to keep tabs on vampire victims, particularly the ones who looked to be well into the turn. This day, he needed to know if anyone had showed up in the emergency room with odd injuries. The injured guard was an expert knife man and Pratt hoped he had gotten in at least one good strike. It was a long shot, to be sure, but it was all he had.

  “I can’t think of anyone stupid enough to do anything this outrageous,” a familiar named Cutchner commented.

  “Wake up and smell the coffee, Cutch,” Coleman retorted. “This is at least the fourth incident in the past four months. This is making us all look bad.”

  “Both of you shut up,” Pratt snapped. “Try thinking of some names, why doncha’?”

  “I already gave you a name,” Coleman said. “It’s gotta’ be those friends of Ryker’s we keep hearing about.”

  “Jeez, give it a rest, Porter,” Pratt spat. “Ryker’s dead. He was a loose cannon. He didn’t have any friends. Think of someone else.”

  “Au contraire, mon frere,” Coleman countered. “He does have a couple of friends. Most notably, a mercenary named Marcus Van Niekerk – pretty nasty character, from South Africa. He’d have the chops and the resources to make that hit on Duke.”

  “South Africa’s pretty far away from here, Coleman,” Cutchner noted. “Why would he be in Fort Worth?”

  The elevator doors opened and the quartet stepped out. A rather muscular woman and a short man in a lab coat were just getting in to the other elevator. Cutchner took time to get an eyeful of the woman’s rear before trotting to catch up with his friends.

  “Guys, you won’t believe it but I think that was Angelica Morales,” he said, when he caught up.

  “The pro bodybuilder?” Coleman asked. “Why would she be down here?”

  “She’s retired from the bodybuilding circuit,” Cutchner explained. “She became a bodyguard months ago. Used to have a lot of high-profile clients, but she dropped off the map for some reason. Wonder what she was doing with that doctor?”

  “Probably testing for steroids,” the fourth familiar, a woman named Eilbacher, joked. “She looks like a man to me. Maybe the doc’s gonna’ give her an operation to turn her back into a woman.”

  Pratt ignored the drivel. He longed for the days when more professional people signed on to be familiars. But, with the lack of any real action, most of the good people eventually left for more exciting jobs. Pratt was left with what he could scrape up, namely a pasty-faced Coleman and lightweights like Cutchner and Eilbacher.

  A middle-aged, rather comely, light-skinned black woman stepped out of the lab at the end of the hall. It was the lab where the hospital did its blood research. Pratt didn’t particularly like the hematology lab because it gave him all sorts of problems when overeager doctors tried to test vampire-tainted blood.

  “Vicky, what’s the word?” Pratt asked.

  Vicky Adevold looked past Pratt and at his companions.

  “You know Coleman and the other two are with me,” Pratt explained. “Now, out with it. What’s new?”

  “Did you see that man in the lab coat?” she asked.

  “Yeah, so what? I’m not here for him.”

  “You should be,” Vicky answered. “He’s been here for the past two days. Doing some really weird work.”

  “What do you mean by weird?” Coleman asked.

  “He seemed to have done most of his research before he got here,” Vicky expounded. “He just said he had a few tweaks to make on a serum. Something about affecting invasive enzymes in the blood.”

  “What are you not telling me?” Pratt demanded. “I told you Coleman and the others are with me. They know. So, spill it, girl. I ain’t got time for twenty questions.”

  Vicky shivered and took an involuntary step back.

  “I think he might have mentioned something about the vampire enzyme,” she blurted. “I can’t be sure, but it’s why I didn’t let you know right away. I could have just misheard him.”

  Travis wasn’t listening to her excuses. Instead, he immediately ordered Cutchner and Coleman to head back up to the parking to catch the man in the lab coat, as well as Angelica Morales. He stayed with Vicky, grabbing her roughly by an arm and dragging her into a supply closet, while telling Eilbacher to watch the corridor.

  “No more games, girl,” he snarled at the frigh
tened technician. “Or you’ll find yourself in a lot more trouble than I can give you. Understand?”

  Vicky nodded, meekly.

  “Did you get this doctor’s name?” Pratt queried.

  “I think he said his name was Ravi Patel.”

  “Eilbacher,” he called to the familiar in the doorway.

  “On it, boss,” the woman replied.

  Pratt released Adevold and she backed away, rubbing her arm and fighting back tears from her fright. He watched Eilbacher check the name “Ravi Patel” on her PDA. Within a minute, she had her answer and, when she showed it to him, he swallowed hard

  “Damn it,” he muttered.

  Now it was all beginning to make sense. Patel had been allied with at least three members of the now-defunct Moonrise, Inc. If Angelica Morales was with him, together they could be the “allies” of Ryker he had so readily dismissed.

  You idiot, he berated himself.

  “Come on,” he told the female familiar. “We’ve got to catch up with Coleman.”

  Coleman and Cutchner had taken the stairs to get back to the main floor. When they stepped out into the corridor, they looked first at the elevators. Not finding their quarry, they walked quickly to a hallway intersection. That proved fruitless, as well. Cursing, Coleman realized his mistake and tried correcting it by rushing out into the parking lot.

  “Shit,” he spat. “I should have known they weren’t heading deeper into the hospital. How are we supposed to find them now?”

  “Wait, over there,” Cutchner said, pointing to a large SUV heading for the nearest exit to the street.

  Coleman looked. He couldn’t see the driver, but did make out the passenger– a short man in what looked like a white lab coat. There was also a woman in the back seat with her window down. He quickly pulled out his cell phone, activated the camera function, and, using the telephoto option, snapped three quick pictures.

  “Did you get anything?” Cutchner asked.

  “Not sure,” Coleman replied. “Maybe Pratt knows someone in the police forensics lab that can help.”

  “I hope so,” Cutchner said. “Well, at least our targets are good-looking this time. I’m so tired of these gap-toothed dogs we have to drag out of truck stops. Jeez, Porter, are you listening?”

  Coleman wasn’t. He was too busy staring at one of his pictures. It was of the girl in the back seat of the SUV.

  “Cutch, you got that picture on you?” he asked, with a voice gone dry.

  “What pic?”

  “The picture of that girl the cops are looking for,” Coleman answered. “The one Kane attacked before he got ashed. Remember? We had to check all of the hospitals to see if she turned up.”

  Cutchner reached into his jacket and fished out the 4x6 file photo Aurelia Hernandez had dug up somewhere. Coleman took it and set it next to the photo he had. He and Cutchner studied it carefully.

  “Damn, I think that’s her,” Cutchner commented. “Looks close, but I can’t be sure. She sure didn’t look turned to me.”

  “It’s her,” Coleman said. “It’s gotta be. This can’t be coincidence. And remember that name I had earlier? That mercenary from South Africa.”

  “Van Niekerk, right?”

  “Yeah,” Coleman said. “If I’m not mistaken, he’s one of the Fifty, as is Angelica Morales. I should have remembered it sooner. Mr. Riordan and Lin Tang mentioned it that night I gave the bad news about Ryker’s name being used around town. Van Niekerk would have the skill – and the cajones – to do that ambush on Duke.”

  “And Angelica Morales is not only on the list with him, but is guarding a doctor affiliated with Moonrise, Ryker’s old outfit,” Cutchner added, whistling loudly. “Rolling around town, pretty as you please, with someone who supposedly lost enough blood to be well into the turn, before Kane was done in.”

  “Maybe the serum,” Coleman suggested.

  “What about the serum?”

  Coleman and Cutchner looked up as Pratt and Eilbacher came rushing up. Coleman showed his boss the photos of Heidi. Pratt went ashen.

  “Ain’t this a bitch?” he snarled. “If this is good news, why the hell do I feel so freakin’ bad?”

  Inside the SUV, Angelica Morales fought to keep control of her nerves. Seeing Pratt and Coleman walking toward the hematology lab had been bad enough. Seeing Coleman and another familiar come running out of the hospital was even worse.

  Next to her, Ravi Patel sat rather patiently. He held a small box of vials in his hands, the sum total of the “tweaking” he’d felt was important enough to jeopardize the Hunters’ safety. Angelica hoped his effort was worth it. If Pratt recognized him in some way or if he or Coleman had spotted Heidi, the game would radically change.

  “God, I am so sorry,” Heidi apologized from the back seat. “It was stuffy in the car; I didn’t think it would matter if I had the window down. Do you think they might have recognized me?”

  ‘Do not worry, my dear,” Patel consoled. “We had no way of knowing that Pratt or Coleman would be here. Most likely, it was me they were after.”

  Angelica had no doubt on that. As for Heidi, she could excuse the Hunters’ newest member. She was still young and naïve, but she had to grow up fast. They had already saved her from one huge mistake. There might not be a third chance.

  “Dial base,” she said aloud. “Emergency one.”

  Her vehicle was equipped with a hands-free phone that operated by voice command. It dialed a special code. A moment later, the voice of Jessie came on.

  “Jessie, it’s Angelica. We’ve got a problem. I think Patel was made.”

  Ryker walked into Jesus Montoya’s office, looking nothing like the man who had just released years of frustration and anger into a flood of tears in Kelly White Cloud’s arms. In fact, he looked like the same old Ryker as he took a seat in front of Jesus’ desk. Without a word, he plopped a thick manila folder onto the desktop, causing a very annoyed Jesus and Dolores to interrupt their work.

  “I take it, this is what you’ve been working on?” Jesus asked after a moment. “The contingency plan?”

  “Basically,” Ryker said. “It needs a bit of tweaking, but I think we all know it was just busywork to keep me out of the way until everybody’s gone.”

  Dolores raised a perturbed eyebrow at the inference.

  “Well, you might be a psycho, Cantrell, but no one can say you’re stupid,” she remarked, bluntly. “Miracles do exist. That said, I am actually glad to see you. You might be able to help us out with something.”

  “Like you said, I’m not stupid,” Ryker remarked. “Why do I get the feeling I’m about to be sacrificed for something?”

  Dolores stood up. She came around her desk and took a seat on the edge of her husband’s desk. Her look was totally serious to the point; even Ryker felt it necessary to listen to what she had to say.

  “We’re all packed and ready to go,” she stated. “However, about an hour ago, we had a very interesting visit from Ian. He has a plan he wants us to use…should the right circumstances arise.”

  Ryker nodded slightly to tell Dolores to continue.

  “Ian has made contact with a low-level half-dead,” Dolores explained. “The circumstances are dubious so it was easy for him to see through it. Our friendly neighborhood detective Aurelia Hernandez pushed this half-dead on him, supposedly for witness protection, but Ian believes the woman was sent to spy on him and thinks he can flip her into giving up something big on her boss.”

  “You’re not serious,” Ryker snorted. “Ian’s messing with a half-dead? And you thought I was going to do something stupid?”

  “I can’t say I approve of Ian’s actions, but he might have something,” Dolores said. “So far, we’ve been banging our heads against the wall, trying to find something, anything that will get us close to Lin Tang. This is our best chance yet. Ian took a big chance coming to us with it.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Ryker shot back, sarcastically. “He’s looking to continue his
pay checks.”

  “Are you a mind-reader now?” Jesus snorted.

  “Go ask Marcus or Angelica,” Ryker retorted. “Neither of them use Ian’s services. The guy’s good at getting information, but he’s not hands-on. He’s never been involved in one of our operations. I don’t remember ever hearing of him actively involved in his own cases, other than being behind the scenes. If it wasn’t for his connection to Aurelia Hernandez, we’d have no use for him. But, hey, you’re the boss.”

  Dolores said nothing. She just stared at him, her gazing threatening to bore right into his brain. Ryker could only wonder if he’d finally found the straw for the camel’s back. He certainly touched just about every nerve.

  “Okay, whatever,” Ryker relented. “Who’s the half-dead? Have you run the name by Kelly?”

  “We’re not new at this, you know,” Jesus said, gruffly. “Kelly said the woman had just joined the ranks of the half-deads about a few months before her, ahem, ordeal.”

  “Okay, so what’s this woman’s name?”

  “Diane Simmons.”

  Ryker rolled his eyes, threw his hands up in disgust and got to his feet. He had actually turned and begun walking out of the office, when Jesus told him to stop. Only when Dolores literally put her foot down, did he stop in the doorway and turn to face his bosses.

  “Low-level?” he asked, derisively. “Is that what he thinks Diane Simmons is? Low-level?”

  “Yes, that is what he said,” Dolores replied, angrily. “Oh, wait, let me guess. Wesley was right. You do know everything.”

  Ryker sighed, crossed his arms and leaned against the door jamb.

  “Diane Simmons is Kelly’s replacement,” he said.

  “Yes, we know,” Jesus said, testily. “She was the numerical replacement. According to Kelly, the next in line for the top position was a guy named Lincoln; the one who betrayed her. He left her for dead at the hands of two other half-deads, he left at the scene to finish her off. As I recall, she would have been dead if you hadn’t happened along and taken care of her would-be killers.”