No Shift, Sherlock: A Vampire Hunter Urban Fantasy Mystery (The Legend of Nyx Book 3)

by Theophilus Monroe

  "But there's one memory I need to ask you about."

  Brucie coked his head. "From our past? When we were together?"

  I nodded. "Did I ever try to eat Jesus?"

  Brucie laughed. "Jesus? You are old, but not that old, Nyxie."

  "So the answer is no," I said.

  "Trust me, I'd remember that!"

  I chuckled. "I suppose so. How about a monk. One I maybe couldn't seduce. Because he didn't have desires."

  Brucie furrowed his brow. "You remember that, huh?"

  I smiled. "Had a dream, that's all."

  Brucie nodded. "Strangest thing, that was. It was like he was hunting you. Sure, you targeted him. But he expected you. Even let you take a bite out of his arm after you chatted with him a bit."

  "The form I took, when I appeared to the monk, it was as a boy, wasn't it?"

  Brucie took a puff on his cigar. "Well, how about that. Those dreams of yours really are helping you recover your memories."

  I nodded. "Thanks, Brucie. Just trying to sort out what from that dream was real. Clearly, some of it was my own mind manifesting things."

  Brucie snorted. "Like Jesus. Why Jesus? It's not like you're religious."

  "I think it has something to do with the grimoire I'm looking for. Anyway, never mind that. Why don't you go check and see if Connor is here? Don't let the guy out of your sight. If anything weird happens, if you sense anything, let me know."

  "Got it, Nyxie!"

  Brucie disappeared, and, of course, he left a puddle behind. Mixed with ash. I grabbed a paper towel from my drawer and wiped it up.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I made my way out to the front of the room, stage-right. My head wasn't in the game, but the girls deserved the same support I'd given Amelia before. I surveyed the auditorium. It was filling up quickly. It always did on Friday nights. Apparently, news of someone dying the night before either hadn't spread or, since no one else suspected foul play, it didn't deter anyone from coming out.

  I looked through the crowd to the bar in the back of the room. Connor was there. Looking around, likely trying to find Malinda.

  Poor dude, I thought to myself sarcastically. He'd be disappointed tonight. She wasn't coming.

  Brucie appeared behind Connor, gave him peace-sign bunny ears, and vaporized again. I shook my head, laughing. Sneaky little booger. Must've known I was looking, and no one else was.

  The drinks were flowing as Joey put on his show, flinging the bottles around like a juggler might bowling pins. Where Connor sat, in the back corner, he was hard to see. But he still hadn't given up looking for Malinda.

  Joey slid him a drink. He took a sip and put it back on the bar.

  Brucie appeared again, pulled out his... firehose... and pissed right in Connor's glass before turning back into mist.

  I had to cover my mouth to stop myself from laughing as Connor picked up his glass and took another sip, looked at it with a furrowed brow, and set it back on the bar again.

  I doubted Brucie's urine was at all like human urine. If anything, due to Brucie's typical WAC (Water Alcohol Content), he probably just made Connor's drink stronger.

  I had my phone stuffed in my bra. I was violating my own policy. No phones during the show. Not for workers. But hell, this was Nicky's, and I was Nicky. I could get away with it.

  I did my best to re-focus my attention on the girls. Katie went first. "Roar," by Katy Perry. I snickered. I suppose she was trying to one-up Amelia's song choice from the night before. A bit tacky, honestly. But Katie redeemed herself when, after she sang, she announced she dedicated the song to Amelia. What I thought was an insensitive song choice proved to be anything but.

  I stepped on stage and introduced her to the crowd. Everyone cheered. Not the standing ovation Amelia had the night before. But people enjoyed it. Katie graciously bowed as Rose took the stage. I recognized the song. I'm not sure how. Most likely, again, dormant memories lurking in my mind from centuries gone by. "Casta Diva" from Bellini's Norma. It had quite an edgy feel to it with an electric guitar rather than a violin backtrack. I loved it! So did the audience. Not what they expected. Not what I expected, frankly, despite knowing Rose was an opera singer. When I announced her name, the people sprung to their feet with cheers.

  My phone vibrated against my chest. I was going to miss the duet. I wasn't thrilled by that, but at least Cain didn't call in the middle of my set.

  I snuck back to the greenroom and retrieved my phone from my brassiere.

  "Hailey told me about this dream you had," Cain said. "I have to admit, it's quite curious."

  "Do you have any idea where I can get something like that? Something that could destroy the grimoire?"

  "Something that pierced the Nazarene's flesh? I hate to say this, Nicky, but so many fake nails, thorns that supposedly pierced Christ's brow, and even a dozen or more heads of the spear that purportedly pierced his side, have been exhumed through the years. Most of them are in possession of the Vatican. Getting your hands on any of them, much less knowing if any of them are genuine, would be an impossible task."

  I grunted. "I was afraid of that."

  "But more curiously," Cain said. "Have you given thought to the significance of the dream?"

  I sighed. "Quite a bit. I checked with Brucie. The sprite, you remember, who used to be a part of me. He said the monk from my dream was real, but the rest..."

  "From the way Hailey described your dream, it was quite vivid."

  "It was," I said. "More than most of my dreams."

  "Consider what messages might be there for you. What the monk and Nazarene told you, what you did. There might be more answers there than you realize."

  "I don't know. I never knew about this grimoire until a few weeks ago. How could my subconscious mind tell me anything of use?"

  Cain laughed. "There are other powers, other influences, that might speak through your dreams than your subconsciousness, Nicky."

  I snorted. "Like the Nazarene, himself?"

  "Stranger things have happened. But consider, for a moment, the significance of the fact that the grimoire might not have been written by the Nazarene as we assumed. It is a grimoire of the Nazarene, but the word of can mean many things in the genitive case. Perhaps there is some truth to the idea the scroll was penned in the blood of the Nazarene rather than written by him. In that case, the use of such power would be an abomination."

  "So you agree, I do need to find a way to destroy it."

  "It sounds to me your subconscious mind agrees with that sentiment. I cannot disagree."

  "But how? If I can't get ahold of those relics?"

  "I can't tell you that. I'll be working with Annabelle to see if we can come up with something. But if not, Nicky, the answer cannot be far from you."

  "In my dream, the Nazarene said everything is connected. Two murders recently in my club. I don't know how, but my gut tells me the Nazarene was right. There is a connection here, somewhere."

  "Your dreams do not always give you all the answers, Nicky. Not directly. But the answers are usually there, buried in what your mind is telling you. Have you written down the dream in your journal?"

  I grunted. "I should have. But no. Still, the details are pretty fresh in my mind."

  "If you are at a loss for what to do next, I suggest you start writing. The act of putting pen to paper has a way of stimulating the mind. A detail you may have overlooked might become evident."

  "I'll do that. Thank you, Cain."

  "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help. If I happened to have a relic that would work, trust me, I'd get it to you. But in the meantime, do you have any leads as to the grimoire's location?"

  "Maybe," I said. "One of the local funeral directors recently retired. I happened to get an invitation sent to the club, intended for Alice. I think there's a chance he might be the one Devin's dad spoke to."

  "Keep me posted on what you find out."

  "How's Debbie doing, by the way? Devin will want to kno
w. He's been worried about his mother."

  "Quite well, in fact," Cain said. "Her cravings are subsiding. She's still being fed regularly, but I believe she's eager to embrace her new life."

  "That's good to hear," I said. "Will she be discharged soon?"

  Cain sighed. "With new vampires, it can be a two steps forward, one step back, sort of process. I'd say, if she continues to progress, we're looking at two more months minimum."

  "Not too bad in the scheme of things," I said.

  "Not at all. I'll try to call you weekly with updates."

  "We really need to find a better way to get in touch," I said. "If there's an urgent matter, it's quite the hassle to wait until Hailey can get to you."

  "Agreed," Cain said. "We're working on another satellite for the Asylum. One that's above ground. Mostly for werewolves and other such creatures who might cause problems if they get loose in Vilokan. I should have my office there up and running within the week. My phone line there will be wired directly into my line in Vilokan. I'll text you the number as soon as it's set up."

  "Thanks, Cain," I said. "That's very helpful. And exciting to hear! Sounds like progress."

  "Indeed," Cain said. "It's been in the works for some time now. I'm quite thrilled to see my vision is becoming a reality."

  I heard cheers from the crowd through the greenroom door. "Well, thanks again. It's time for me to take the stage. I'll let you know if my lead turns up anything. I should know something tomorrow."

  "You do that. Take care, Nicky."

  "Thanks, doc. You too."

  Chapter Fifteen

  I took the stage as quickly as I could. Most folks, if they went to concerts, were used to a pause between sets. But we were a nightly show. I hated leaving the crowd with silence, even for a minute. There wasn't usually any reason to pause, anyway. I didn't have elaborate sets to change. The house band was the same no matter who was on stage.

  My goal was usually to take the stage before the applause from the opener died down. This time, the sixty seconds of crowd buzz between sets felt like an eternity had passed. Didn't take long, though, for the crowd to cheer me on as I broke into my opening number.

  I was off. I was too distracted. Connor was in the back of the room, still at the bar. Flirting with Katie and Rose as they snagged a complimentary drink from Joey. What a creep. Sure didn't take him long to move on from Mal. The difference was Katie and Rose hadn't been in a coma for years. They weren't eager for attention. Not like Malinda. At least not the kind of attention Connor offered. I was grateful. Especially since he was my prime suspect.

  I continued singing. I was on autopilot. I started making the connection. Connor had been there all three nights—including tonight. In some way, it seemed, my opening act was impacted by every kill.

  It made sense he didn't get to Gina. First, Gina was a drag queen. Drag queens aren't necessarily transgender. Gina was a persona, but Geraldo did not identify as a female. What if Connor targeted his mother because it was a female associated with Gina. Then, he went straight for Amelia. Finally, he tried to flirt with Katie and Rose, both.

  I could only be thankful he hadn't attacked Malinda. Perhaps, being a witch, whatever soul-sucking ability Connor had didn't allow him to get to her.

  And I knew all it took was a touch. A brush of the hand. If Amelia touched Connor, that's all it was. Had Rose and Katie touched him at all?

  I couldn't risk it. They'd both ducked into the ladies' room. I'd be damned before I let that guy kill another one of my girls.

  I dropped the microphone and took off down the aisle.

  I'm not sure if the crowd was stunned by what happened or what. But they were mostly silent as they turned and watched me run at what was admittedly a speed most humans couldn't approach—in heels, no less.

  I burst through the bathroom door. Katie and Rose were both standing in front of sinks in front of the mirror.

  "Are you two okay?" I asked.

  Katie cocked her head. "Yeah. Totally. Shouldn't we be?"

  I sighed. "Sorry. False alarm, I guess. After what happened last night. I thought maybe that guy you were talking to..."

  Katie snorted, almost choking on her tongue. "What a creep, right?"

  "What did he tell you two?"

  "Nothing I haven't heard from guys like that before," Rose said.

  "He propositioned us for a threesome," Katie said, giggling. "Can you believe it? Like we'd ever..."

  I sighed. "Yeah, he's a creep for sure. Just steer clear of him, okay?"

  The girls suddenly screamed.

  I whipped my body around and saw Brucie floating in mid-air.'

  "What the hell, Brucie!"

  "I'm sorry! But you said to let you know if that guy... well..."

  "Shit," I said. "Sorry girls, this is Brucie. I'll explain later."

  "Nicky wait, it's..."

  I didn't stop to listen. I ran out the door and saw Connor hunched over the bar, his face in his hands. I grabbed him by his jacket and yanked him off his stool.

  And his face fell to the side. His eyes were wide open. He didn't even blink.

  Connor was dead.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I'd never seen the club empty out so fast. Joey called 9-1-1. It's said the show must go on, but two bodies in two nights were too much for most people to take. It didn't take long, after all, for the word to travel through the crowd. I'd have to refund their tickets, which was the least of my worries.

  Connor wasn't the killer. Could it really be Katie or Rose? I couldn't find them, either. They were probably as freaked out about encountering Brucie, if not more so, than the fact that another person they recently talked to died in the club.

  It briefly crossed my mind that telling Malinda Connor was dead was probably going to go over about as well as a lead balloon. I'd have to face that later.

  I pulled Connor into the greenroom. No sense hauling him all the way down to the mortuary. No one was here. No one except Joey, and he was cleaning up the bar.

  Come to think of it, why hadn't I suspected Joey? He was hired while I was in New Orleans. I didn't interview him. I hadn't even seen his resume. I had it in my office, probably in his employee file. It tracked. Geraldo's mom. Amelia. Connor. They'd all had a drink before they died. A drink served by Joey.

  Brucie appeared in the green room. "Want me to check the body out?"

  I nodded. "I suspect you'll find the same thing."

  I pried open Connor's mouth and Brucie, turning himself into a stream of water, poured himself inside. Again, Connor's body shook as if he were alive and having a seizure. Then, Brucie blasted out of Connor's open mouth like a geyser before retaking his cherub-like shape.

  "Sure enough," Brucie said. "Nothing wrong with his body. Only his soul is missing."

  "Thanks, Brucie. I'll let you know if I need any more help."

  I left the greenroom just in time for the EMTs to arrive, a couple police officers along with them.

  "Right this way," I said as one of the officers pulled Joey aside. I was going to question him. I couldn't believe it hadn't occurred to me until now. But as much as I didn't want to admit it, a lot of the evidence was pointing in my bartender's direction.

  The EMTs and paramedic followed me into the greenroom.

  As before, it didn't take them long to determine that Connor was likely dead. Still, they were going to try to revive him no less.

  "Excuse me, ma'am," a voice said from the door. I turned. It was one of the officers. "Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

  I nodded. "Of course"

  I followed the officer through the auditorium. The other office was still getting a statement from Joey.

  "Is there a place we could talk?" the officer asked.

  "My office?" I asked.

  "That will work."

  I was glad I'd cleaned up my office and got rid of my pile of blood-splattered junk mail. I couldn't blame the officers for wanting to investigate further. Two nights in a ro
w, two bodies would raise suspicions to anyone looking at the situation objectively.

  "Apologies, officer. I'm a bit shaken by all of this."

  "Understandable. You're the owner of the club?"

  I nodded. "Yes, I'm Nicky. But technically, I don't own the building."

  "I'm Officer Cavanaugh. A detective with the Lee's Summit Police department."

  "Is there any information on Amelia? The girl from last night? I've been worried sick ever since."

  "She was confirmed dead shortly after being taken by the paramedics. She was employed here, correct?" Officer Cavanaugh asked.

  "Not technically. She's not, I mean she wasn't, an employee. Just a performer. And I hadn't done any paperwork yet. She performed last night off the books."

  "Off the books?" the officer asked.

  "Right. We didn't have a contract in place. So, technically, she was performing voluntarily."

  "And the gentleman tonight, do you know much about him?"

  "The guy who died? His name is Connor. That's all I really know. He has been acting a bit inappropriately with some of the females in the club, so I had an eye on him."

  "Do you have the names of any of the women he interacted with?"

  I nodded. "One of them is a girl I'm taking care of. Recently woke from a coma and didn't have any family, so I took her in. Then, tonight, he was flirting with a couple other performers."

  "Their names?" the officer asked, taking down notes on a small paper tablet.

  "The girl who lives with me, her name is Malinda Malkovich. The other two girls, Katie and Rose. I have their last names here on their resumes."

  "Could I see them, please?"

  I nodded, reached into my desk, and pulled out the two resumes the girls had given me the day before. I handed them to the officer.

  "And were these ladies here both last night and tonight?"

  "Malinda was here last night. Not tonight, though. Rose and Katie were here both nights."

  "Do you have a guest list, by chance? Any names I can cross-reference to see who might have been here on both nights in question?"