I shook my head. “Haven’t been outside the country except for my tours with the army, and those were all in the Middle East. Why do you ask?”
“I just realized I haven’t been there in a long while. The last time I was there was for the Queen’s coronation, if I remember correctly. Really need to make some time for another visit. “It was another hint to just how long Lyanne had been around, but not one that told me any more than I had already deduced.
Finally, just over two hours after the time of our scheduled appointment, the secretary told us to follow her toward the back. Maura’s contact was a man named Culverton, who she claimed had been working with the British Embassy in some capacity or another since the 1920’s, usually off-the-books. He was a vampire, though when I expressed my concerns to Maura about whether or not he might be dangerous, she just laughed and said, “You’ll get it when you meet him.”
Culverton’s office was a small room tucked away in the back of the consulate’s space. There was no nameplate and the blinds were all closed. The secretary gave a quick rap on the door before turning and quickly walking away. I thought for a moment that the vampire must be frightening to his coworkers, but a better look at the secretary’s gait didn’t suggest a woman fleeing in fear. It was something else.
“Come in,” a nasally voiced beckoned from beyond the door.
I had been under the impression that vampires were all supernaturally attractive, if somewhat pale, and eternally youthful as well as healthy. Aside from the pallor of his skin, the man seated at the room’s sole desk did not match any of these criteria. He was thin, not in an attractive, fit way, but more in a bony way that made all his edges seem sharp. His hair was thin at the top, suggesting someone not old but past their prime, and the wastebasket beside him was filled with crumpled up tissues and empty packages of cough syrup.
As I was busy wondering if we had gotten the right guy, he looked up from a stack of papers to wave us in. “Come on in, come on in. Have a seat right there. Sorry for your wait. I got saddled with verifying a mound of fee payment schedules. And they call me the bloodsucker. I’ll be done in just a second.”
I stood next to the chair he had indicated but did not sit. “You’re Culverton?”
“That’s the name I’m signing on all these documents, anyway.” He finished scribbling on the page in front of him, set it on the stack with the others, then capped his pen. “Now then, what can I do for you? Maura said it was urgent, so I cleared some time for you, but I really hope I didn’t miss my weekly foot massage for nothing.”
I decided that trying to understand the strange nature of this vampire could wait. “I want to ask you some questions about one of your associates, the mummy Pembroke—”
My sentence was cut off by Culverton’s sudden hacking fit. He coughed up a storm, then reached for a tissue and blew loudly into it. He sniffled as he said, “As far as I know, I’m the only vampire in history who got turned while he had a cold. Who would have guessed, out of all the afflictions that vampirism cures, that the process will actually preserve a cold? An eternity with the sniffles—it’s almost enough to make you wish you weren’t immortal.”
For once, I was glad I was human. “I’m sorry to hear that, but if we could get back to the matter of—"
Culverton’s eyes drifted over to Lyanne and he perked up as if he had just noticed her presence. “Oh, hello there! What’s a fine bird like yourself doing here?”
Lyanne looked at Culverton the way she would look at a bug she was about to squish. “I’m with Kurt. Didn’t want to miss the show if Kurt decides to remove a vampire’s head from his shoulders.”
For some reason Culverton smiled. “That’s a fine one you bagged there, mate. What’s your secret? Are you rich? Or perhaps you’ve got a lot of, you know …” He whistled and pointed at my crotch.
I was starting to understand why the secretary had wanted to be away from here as quickly as possible.
Sighing, I tried to bring things back around. “I need information, Culverton. Maura told me you had dealings with the mummy Pembroke. Tell me everything you know about him.”
That seemed to bring Culverton back to reality. He studied me quietly, and I could feel a tingle build up as my instincts picked up on whatever unnatural thing he was doing. Feeling me out, probably, considering the way his eyes narrowed. It seemed that however obnoxious he had been, he was really a vampire.
Finally, he nodded. “I think we can help each other out. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. In exchange, I want a drink.”
His meaning went over my head at first. “A drink of what.”
He licked his lips. “Of you. You feel … different. Special. I’m sure you’d be delicious, unlike anyone I’ve ever sampled before.”
“You want to drink my blood?” It was a question of disbelief.
“Just a little. Just a tiny bit. A little sip, really. From your arm. That’s all. A little sippy, and I’ll tell you everything I know about that Pembroke bloke.”
“Fine.” I said it without hesitation.
Lyanne practically jumped. “Kurt, no! You can’t trust him, he could—"
“Don’t worry about it.” I was already rolling up my sleeve. “I can handle it.”
Culverton’s eyes lit up with hunger, and I could see a sliver of drool drip from his lips. He slowly made his way around his desk toward me, barely able to control himself. I saw his lips curl up, revealing long, sharp fangs. He reached for me…
The Night Flail was there suddenly, whipping out from my exposed wrist and wrapping itself around the vampire’s neck. I tugged and Culverton went stumbling to the floor, where I proceeded to slam down my foot down on his bony chest. “You done?”
From the ground, Culverton gave a wheeze. “Can’t blame a fellow for trying.”
After picking himself off the ground and plopping down in his chair, he let out a sigh, which turned into another hacking fit. Then he cleared his throat. “Right. So, it was Pembroke you wanted to learn about?”
I finally decided to take the seat across for him. “If you would be so kind.”
He plopped his feet up on his desk and looked up at the ceiling. “Pembroke. Well, as you know, he’s a mummy. An ancient one, at that. He likes to pretend he’s no older than three or four centuries for, well, I guess the same reason women stop aging past their thirtieth birthdays. When I got him talking one time he admitted to being all the way from the sixth century. He told me about watching the rise and fall of the British Empire, and from both sides. Hell of a thing that must have been to see.”
The sixth century. It was hard to even comprehend someone that old still being around. “What has he been doing all this time.”
He gave a small shrug. “This and that, consolidating power, making deals, giving up power, eliminating enemies, consolidating again. I think Pembroke takes an incredibly long-term approach to things. The rest of us are busy worrying about today and tomorrow, while Pembroke is worried about how things will be in a hundred years. It’s the kind of perspective only someone as old as him could have.”
“And those goals, would you say they are for good or for ill?”
“Who can say? He seems like a nice enough fellow, if that’s what you’re asking. As murderous, cold, and self-centered as any other undead, but he has a degree of honor to him. And he doesn’t mind gabbing if you’ve got a mind to learn what life was like in the 1200s. I’ve known him since … oh, when was it? We met at one of the early showings of Hamlet at the Globe Theater. Sometime in the early 1600s. We bonded over our mutual love of the theater and women, and later, our mutual hate of a specific woman: Benazir.”
The witch. Everything always came back around to her. “Why the animosity?”
Culverton’s face turned serious for the first time since I’d stepped into the office. “She’s ruthless, unpredictable, and perhaps a bit mental. Even us undead get to know when we’re about to cross a line, but Benazir has no care for anyone but hers
elf. She had her own family of undead once, one big enough that it would have rivaled Tandi’s network here in New York. Then about two centuries ago she killed them all, without warning and without any known reason. She’s here in New York now, and I’m not ashamed to admit it’s got me quite concerned. Can never tell what that old bag is going to do.”
The way Culverton described Benazir sent a chill through me. I never thought I’d miss Tandi. “Do you have any clue what she’s up to.”
“Not really.” He thought about it for a second, then corrected himself. “Though shortly after she showed up here, many of the oldest undead in the city started to buddy up with Franklin Allgeir, the biotech mogul. They’re all either working with him or handing him fortunes in cash. It’s enough to make this old vampire suspicious.”
“But what are they doing with a biotech firm?”
He shrugged again. “I haven’t the foggiest. Maybe ask Allgeir himself. His firm is called Allgeir Centrifuge.”
I nodded and rose, ready to leave as Culverton made a disgusting racket with another tissue.
Lyanne stopped me. “We might still need this creep, at least until we verify what he’s said. Hate to find out he lied to us and then skipped town.”
“Do I look like the kind of guy who would do something like that?” Culverton said between sniffles.
“Yes,” Lyanne and I replied in unison.
I sighed. “I guess we can bring him back to the farm for now. Maybe he’ll think of something else useful.”
Culverton gestured to Lyanne. “Are there any more like her on the farm.”
I nodded. “A bunch.”
He smiled through his sniffles. “I’m in. What should I bring?”
9
Allgeir Centrifuge didn’t exist. At the very least, there were no records of it existing online or in the public records. Lyanne, Jexie, and I all came up empty in our first searches, and we were forced to resort to our research trump card: Sara. She promised to be back in a few days with a solid lead.
In the meantime, the rest of us had to adjust to the farm’s newest guest. Culverton made himself right at home, helping himself to anything he wanted in the fridge, coughing and sneezing all over my hunting memorabilia, and spending large quantities of time walking around in his underwear.
He also made a pass at all the women staying here. Eve rejected him quite harshly. Sara, before she left, mumbled an excuse at a million-miles-an-hour before dashing away. When Maura came to visit she reminded him that she had a policy of not dating her customers, though she confided in me after that the policy only applied to him. Finally, when Jexie gave him a sympathetic rejection, he got forlorn.
“They’re all really into you, Kurt. How do you do that?”
Jexie answered for me. “By being a generally decent man with strong convictions and a desire to help others.”
Culverton thought about that a moment. “Nah, too much work.”
Sara returned about a week later. Her news was not great.
“Allgeir Centrifuge operates entirely in the shadows. The records are all under the names of a dozen shell corporations. It’s entirely privately owned, has no buildings under its name, shares no data, and has no employees. If you didn’t know to look for it there’d be no way you’d ever notice it.”
I could tell by the excitement in her eyes that she was still holding something back. “But you found something, didn’t you?”
Her smile lit up the room. “I was able to find transaction receipts. They might not have any property but they are spending a massive amount of money. And a lot of it is going to a research facility in New Jersey.”
Lyanne grimaced. “New Jersey? Nothing good ever happens there.”
“What kind of research facility?” I asked.
Sara pulled out the sheet of paper she had scribbled all of her findings on and read from it. “Finding new and innovative solutions for blood testing, tracking genetic markers, and early detection of genetic conditions.” She put the note away. “Or at least that’s what their PR page says, but there’s nothing specific there for what they are working on. They’ve never published any papers, filed any patents, or submitted any trials to the FDA. So what are they spending all this money on?”
I returned her smile. “I guess that’s what we are going to have to find out, isn’t it?”
“It might not be quite that easy. From what I was able to learn, the facility is very secure. Facial recognition on the doors, 24-hour armed security, the works. It might be a tough nut to crack.”
“I know just the solution. It’s time the rest of you met Darcy.”
A team of three of us went to the address in New Jersey: me, Eve, and Darcy. The shapechanger had joked on the phone how she had been waiting on my call but didn’t know about my choice in second dates. “New Jersey’s a fair way from Paris.” She had come all the same, and seemed eager to help me get to the bottom of this.
Eve had less of her former Succubus powers remaining than Lyanne, most of the time acting as a normal human. But when she felt what she was doing was the right and noble thing, she could tap into those old powers to manipulate people with her Charm. As we pulled up in front of the security gate, she hit the guards full force with her Charm, forcing them both to give her their absolute attention for as long as she desired. While she did that Darcy and I slipped past and made our way toward the building, our steps light, unhurried, but steady.
From the outside the lab was unimpressive: a squat, single story building with darkened windows and no distinguishing marks. When we got close, we started to see signs of the site’s true nature: the plethora of security cameras, the reinforcements around the doors, and the slatted bars on the window. It might as well have been a prison we were trying to break into.
Fortunately, I had a secret weapon.
We had waited outside the lot and watched the employees come and go until Darcy found one she liked enough to copy. If everything went according to plan, being close to Darcy in this form should be enough to keep suspicion off me, and with the gate security watching Eve instead of the cameras, no one should realize what we were doing until it was too late.
We reached the door, and Darcy put her mimicry ability to the test by scanning her imitation face at the facial recognition panel. The light blinked green and a clicking sound told us the door had opened.
“After you,” I said, looking at the name tag that was part of her shapeshifted uniform, “Dr. Dathers.”
“You’re welcome, lab assistant,” she replied, teasingly. “Well, are you going to get the door for a lady?”
As we walked to the sterile halls of the lab, I attracted some attention, but when the employees saw me with “Dr. Dathers,” they just nodded and went about their business. It seemed Dathers was a well-known enough figure for everyone to recognize, but not well-liked enough for others to stop her for conversation, which worked well for us. I wondered if Jexie had some way of telling that when she picked this disguise.
Now the problem was we didn’t really know what we were looking for. Eve could only stall the security guards for so long, plus there was the risk of the real Dr. Dathers returning at any time, so we didn’t have time to search the place from top to bottom. With nothing to go on, we decided to go down the largest hallway to a pair of important looking double doors. This one had fingerprint recognition on it, but fortunately Darcy’s abilities copied someone right down the little details. She pushed her index finger against the pad, then the light turned green and the door slid open.
The lab beyond did not show any kind of research that would benefit the living. It more closely resembled a mortuary, with a row of corpses on plain white slabs lined up, and tools on small tables beside them like someone had very recently been working on them. Small samples of their flesh had been stripped, and numerous needle marks were apparent where fluids were drawn. There was little in terms of other equipment here, but the headlining attraction was the centrifuge for blood. It also show
ed signs of recent use.
Darcy and I exchanged looks and split up to search the room. We still weren’t sure what exactly we were looking for, but any clue as to what the lab here was researching could get us closer to finding Franklin Allgeir.
The bodies were well preserved and not torn up like the murders we had been tracking. In fact, aside from the small incisions and needle marks, these bodies were so well preserved you’d be forgiven for thinking they could get up at any time. I took pictures, though I was fairly certain the bodies were a dead end.
At the end of the lab was a steel sink, currently filled with murky water. I didn’t want to think of what was turning that water reddish brown. A tingling from my instincts told me there was something important here, though. I found a pair of blue surgical gloves, slipped them on, then held my breath as I reached into sink to pull out the drain trap.
The liquid cleared, leaving three small, oddly shaped objects. There was no question that these were what my instincts were picking up on. I ran the sink and washed the layers of sludge from them to get a better look, though what I found didn’t make much sense. A bit of smooth, yellowed rock, a wad of paper that had not disintegrated in the water, and a tightly rolled ball of linen, soiled now but which could have been bandages at one point.
Unfortunately, before I had a chance to consider what all this meant, I heard the door open. Reflexively, I shoved the objects in a pocket and turned. An older man in a doctor’s coat stepped into the room. “Dr. Dathers? What are you doing here? I thought you went home for the day.” His attention turned to me. “And who is this?”
Darcy cleared her throat then spoke in a voice that wasn’t hers. “Oh, thank god you are here!” She gestured frantically at me. “I caught this man sneaking around the lab! I think he’s a spy!”
The doctor narrowed his eyes on me and I gave an innocent shrug, following Darcy’s lead. He reached into his coat and pulled out a long syringe filled with some kind of clear blue liquid and tipped with a wicked looking needle. “Well, you know what we do to intruders here.”
Succubus Hunter 2 (The Succubus Series) Page 8