Civil Sons

by C. M. Cevis

  “No shit,” Sarge laughed. “How badly did you kick their asses?”

  “Not bad. I just gave them a good scare.” The two of them laughed, and Samson motioned for the cinnamon girl to bring Sarge a beer and one of the cigars on his dime. He never let Sarge pay when they were together, and Sarge had given up arguing with him about it.

  “What does Max think you’re doing tonight, if he doesn’t know about is meeting?”

  “He doesn’t. Once he’s settled in for the night, he usually doesn’t ask me to stick around. I made sure that he was alright for the evening, and then I left to come here.”

  “Max is a good guy,” Sarge said, nodding as he took a puff of his cigar. “Several Suzerains are really assholes to their assigned guards. We’ve had to remove some simply because they were being used as butlers. That’s not why we placed them.”

  “He’s very intelligent and notices things that most people don’t think that he does. Hell, sometimes the only reason I know that he noticed something is because I’m around a few hours later when he puts something in place to combat it.” Samson took a drink of his beer and sat the glass down with a sigh. “He’s a good leader.”

  “What’s going on with Owen?” Sarge asked, which wasn’t surprising to Samson. His kidnapping was a big deal to the Directorate.

  “Nothing at the moment. The police haven’t found a thing.”

  “And the Org?” Sarge asked. Samson smirked, of course he knew about that.

  “One of their agents approached us the night that Owen went missing. Said that she was in the area and came to see what was up, and to warn Max that the Org was going to call.” Sarge gave Samson and intrigued look.

  “Warn him?”

  “Yeah,” Samson nodded. “She said that the call would be to ask if Max wanted their help, and she implied that they intended on getting involved regardless. Her advice was for Max to give them his permission because he’d have more say so in what agent was assigned. Otherwise, the agent assigned might just get in the way.”

  “Hmm,” Sarge said around his cigar. “Sound advice, if you ask me.”

  “Max took it and told the Org that he’d welcome the help. I haven’t heard anything else since then though.”

  “You’ll probably hear something soon. The Org here in Baltimore plays a lot of politics, so sometimes the wheels turn slowly. Anything else?”

  “Yeah, the police have Max doing a press conference to ask for the public’s help tomorrow evening,” Samson sighed. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea or an invitation for a shit-ton of false sighting calls.”

  Sarge shrugged. “There’s no way to tell, but it’s worth a try regardless. What about the kid that was with Owen when he was taken?”

  “Roger?” Samson tried to keep his tone from changing but judging by the sudden amused look on Sarge’s face, he’d failed. “There’s something I don’t like about him, but I don’t know what. Details of his story kept changing, and he blamed it on being in shock like he was some sort of human instead of a Wellborn vampire.”

  “Do you think he’s a threat?”

  Samson shook his head. “Nah, not a threat. But there’s something going on, even the agent from the Org caught it.”

  Sarge gave Samson a questioning look and leaned forward. “What did the agent catch?”

  “When she was walking away, she said that she’d be biased were she placed on the case because she didn’t like Roger. She said he wasn’t telling the truth.”

  “Well hell, that’s cryptic without more explanation,”

  “Yeah, but I think she might not have been able to explain it. Like maybe her dislike was instinct like mine is.”

  “Hm,” Sarge said, thinking. “Has he done anything that would make him a threat, that you know of?”

  Samson shook his head. “No. He’s just a childhood friend from a weaker line that Owen has already brought along with him on his way up the ladder.”

  “I’d really hate to be the one to have to tell him that his oldest friend is really a backstabbing little shit. But I’ll look into him anyway, your instincts are usually spot on. I’ll let you know if I find anything odd.”

  “Thanks,” Samson said with a smile. “Have you heard anything about Bannon? Has he given up any information?”

  Sarge shook his head. “Bits and pieces here and there, but nothing concrete. Nothing that we can follow up on. At this point, we’re convinced that he’d either insanely loyal or charmed in some way.”

  “I’ve got a friend here in town that’s good at finding things like that if you really want to check him for magic.”

  “Is that right?” Sarge asked.

  “If you’re interested, she might be able to help. If not, forget I brought her up.” Samson said with a shrug. “She might not be willing to help either way. She likes me, but that doesn’t mean that she’ll like you.”

  “Ouch,” Sarge said, wincing for dramatic effect. Samson chuckled.

  “So tell me, do you think that Max is involved in anything he shouldn’t be like Bannon was?” Sarge asked. The quick topic change took a second for Samson, mainly because he found it hard to believe that anyone who’d spent any time around Max would even entertain him being some sort of traitor.

  “Do you?” Samson rebutted since something screamed at him that there was more going on than he was being told with that question.

  “No, not at all,” Sarge said with a sigh. “But the reality of it is that something is going on, and it’s wide-spread, Sam.”

  “Is that why I was asked to come here?”

  “Not exactly. Bannon needed to be removed, and right now we are looking for reasons to make sure that the people guarding the Suzerains are people that we can trust to tell us if something is going on. Your assignment was convenient, honestly. We aren’t sure what’s going on, so until we are, we’re watching everyone. We need to keep them safe if they aren’t doing anything and find them if they are.”

  “But if you aren’t telling any of us what’s going on, how do we know what to look out for?” Samson asked. Sarge sighed heavily before he responded.

  “Something is going on that is causing a lot of our people to somehow wind up the hands of shifters and at a grave disadvantage. We haven’t figured out how it’s happening, or whether it’s all connected. But in my opinion, if it’s not connected, it’s one hell of a coincidence.”

  Samson and Sarge sat together in a comfortable silence for a bit as the two of them thought. Nothing about what Sarge was implying made Samson feel any more at ease about his initial night in Baltimore, and the fight that he’d been in. To know that something was going on with the shifters at the same time that they had approached him made him wonder if they’d had something more nefarious in mind than just a street fight, and if his level of skill had dissuaded them. Had they moved on to a more convenient, weaker vampire after their attempt with him had failed? Had he set someone up to take the fall for him without realizing it?

  “Look into the shifters in the area in regard to Owen, okay? I hope I’m wrong, but I don’t think that I am.” Sarge said. Samson nodded and sighed heavily. He was going to have to pass on at least part of this to Max, and it wasn’t going to make his boss happy.

  “I’ll keep you posted,” Samson replied.

  “You always do, Sarge said with a grin.

  21

  MAX HADN’T BEEN INSIDE THE police station long. He was simply waiting for the sun to finish setting and for the rest of the lights to be set up outside for the press conference. This wasn’t something that he really wanted to do, but it was a good idea that the police had suggested. The officer that was in charge of the investigation, a man named Nicholas, seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. Even Samson liked him, and the two of them had discussed their thoughts on what little information that they had quietly as everyone waited for things to get rolling.

  Once all media that had requested access had been invited into the area and settled down, all
microphones leading to all live feeds had been arranged in a massive hive of feedback and wires, and all lighting that would have caused tanning if Max had been able to tan anymore had been set up, Max made his way outside.

  The crowd murmured as he approached the lectern and waited for those around him to quiet before he spoke. The media wasn’t used to him being somber, but he wasn’t in the mood to be much else. He’d chosen to dress impeccably, the way he normally did, but the normal smiling and playing for the cameras was gone. His son was missing, and he wasn’t going to be right until he was found.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he began.

  “Some of you may already know why you’re here tonight and have just come for confirmation of rumors that you’ve heard. Unfortunately, I am not here to tell you that what you think is incorrect. Several nights ago, the night of Profane Persuasion’s incomplete album release, my son arrived at the hotel with the intention of getting dressed in a room that he’d secured before coming downstairs to perform with the others. While he did apparently get dressed for the event, something happened between him leaving his room and his intended arrival at the party, and he hasn’t been seen since.”

  Those listening began to murmur again, some in surprise at finding out that the rumors that they’d heard were true. Max waited yet again for them to calm into silence before he continued.

  “We are asking for the public’s help, hoping that perhaps someone saw him, or that someone saw something that might point us in the right direction.” Max had thought about saying something about suspecting shifters after what Samson told him about the Directorate’s suspicions but had ultimately decided against it. That would have simply caused a witch hunt, for lack of a better term, and wouldn’t have done anything but make things worse for all involved.

  “The Baltimore police department has set up a national tip line for this case, as we aren’t sure if he’s still in Maryland or not. We’ve also got federal officers on stand by should it turn out that he’s been transported across state lines, as that would turn this into an entirely different type of case.” Max cleared his throat, looking down at the surface of the lectern before looking back up and directly into the camera.

  “Please. If you have seen anything, call and let us know. Even if you aren’t sure, we’re willing to follow up on it. Help me find my son, I beg you.” Max turned and walked away from the crowd as people began shouting questions after him, though he didn’t hear any of them. His mind was on his son, wondering whether he was alright, whether they’d find him before something terrible happened. He’d been alternating between pissed and sad since Owen had disappeared, and now was no different.

  “Let’s go see the Organization,” he said to Samson, barely breaking stride.

  “Yes sir,” Samson replied, falling into step beside him without missing a beat.

  ~*~

  THE LAST FEW TIMES THAT vampires had needed the Baltimore area Organization, Max had sent Owen in his place. Consequently, he hadn’t been there in a few months and almost hadn’t remembered the cute receptionist, nor the fact that she always smelled like honey.

  “Zoe, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Max said as he approached the large desk.

  “You too, Max, though I wish it were under better circumstances. I’m really sorry about your son,” she said, and her eyes said that she meant it.

  “I appreciate that, thank you. Are they ready for me?” He didn’t necessarily want to cut Zoe short, but he did have a few other things to get done, and this was only preliminary. If he was going to spend his night productively, it wasn’t going to be in this office.

  “Of course,” she said, motioning for Max and Samson to follow her. She led the two men down this hallway and that until finally motioning for them to enter a rather large meeting room that already contained two people, one male, and one female, both human.

  “Mr. Blue, Ms. White, it’s good to see you again,”

  “You as well, Max. And this is your new bodyguard, Samson, correct?” Max hesitated, forgetting for a moment that Samson had already informed him of the female agent who seemed to know who he was as well. Apparently, someone was keeping an eye on him. It wasn’t a bad thing, but it was good to know.

  “That I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Samson replied, taking up a post behind Max until he motioned for him to sit. Samson had done several things that made Max think that he’d done something more than simply guarding bodies in the past. Things like standing guard behind his charge, for example, something that made Max nervous since he wasn’t very fond of people being at his back. He was going to have to ask Samson to look into that female agent though. If she was the reason that the Organization knew about changes in his office so quickly, he wanted to know how she knew.

  “We saw your news conference earlier this evening. Hopefully, something good comes from it.” Ms. White said.

  Max nodded. “That’s the hope. Unfortunately, a lot of the times what they get on those hotlines is a flood of false calls that bury the real tips. Sometimes the real tips are even missed because of the terrible ratio. We can only hope that’s not the case this time around.”

  “We do appreciate your willingness to allow us to help. Perhaps more feet on the ground will resolve this sooner than later,” Mr. Blue said.

  Max nodded again and made himself smile although he wasn’t really in the mood for pleasantries. “Of course.”

  “We’ve got a few agents in mind that we believe will be an asset to you in your investigation into Owen’s kidnapping, but since you know better than we would, we’d like for you to have the opportunity to choose.” Ms. White explained.

  “Unless you’d simply like to trust our judgment on this one.” Mr. Blue added.

  Samson coughed softly, a sign that he wasn’t okay with trusting their judgment at all. Truthfully, neither was Max, not on this one.

  “I’d be happy to meet the agents that you’re considering.”

  “One of them is currently out on a bit of recognizance, but the other, the one that we prefer actually, is here.” Max watched Mr. Blue closely as he spoke. It was well known that while the man was good at his job, he was a notorious hard-ass and the least favorite of just about anyone who had met the heads. For example, he wasn’t a fan of agents going out on their own and doing things that may help an assignment if they hadn’t checked in with him first. Even if the outcome was a remarkable favorable one, he’d harp on the fact that he hadn’t been consulted before the action was taken.

  “May I ask why you prefer the agent who is currently here over the one who isn’t?” Max asked.

  “The other agent has a tendency to go a bit… off course, from time to time.” Mr. Blue responded. Max sat back and let Samson take this one. He’d already informed Samson beforehand that he wanted him to be the main test for the agents presented. Max felt that he was too emotionally and physically drained to make a good decision right now, and he trusted Samson to make a good decision on his behalf.

  “Exactly what kind of off course work does this agent partake in from time to time?” he asked. Mr. Blue shifted his gaze to Samson and seemed to hesitate before answering.

  “She has been involved in several cases where she has not followed instruction handed down from those of us in charge here, instead choosing to follow her own path.”

  Samson nodded. “And her path destroyed the outcome of the case?”

  “No, not exactly. There are times where her choices have saved lives or gotten to results quicker than we would have… but there are others where she’s caused injury or destruction due to her rash actions.”

  Samson tented his fingers in front of his face and frowned at Mr. Blue, clearly not liking what he was hearing. “So what I’m hearing is that you want your agents on a tighter leash, and she’s not willing to allow it?” Max swallowed a sudden chuckle before it could escape. That was what he’d gotten from Mr. Blue’s explanation as well, but he wouldn’t have pointed i
t out quite as bluntly.

  “That’s not…” Mr. Blue’s sentence stopped in his throat as Samson placed his hands on the table before him, something Mr. Blue apparently found intimidating enough for him to stop trying to explain himself. This was fun, Max was going to have to start bringing Samson along to all of his meetings.

  “Max, if it’s alright with you, I have no interest in an agent who can only follow rules. It’s the agent who isn’t here that I want to meet.”

  Max agreed whole-heartedly. “The band is having a small, intimate concert tomorrow night with their fan club VIP members, as I have encouraged them to go ahead with the release of the album tomorrow. The event is happening at the Ottobar. Have her arrive at ten.”

  Max stood to leave, and Samson stood along with him as Mr. Blue opened his mouth as if to protest the decision that had been made. Ms. White’s hand on his arm stopped him.

  “She’ll be there,” Ms. White said with a smile.

  22

  OWEN’S SENSES GRADUALLY CAME ONLINE as night feel, and he tried to move only to realize that yes, he was still tied some a dirty little bed in some horrid little room. He’d been kept unconscious unnaturally, that much he was aware of since he’d be aware of at least two of the needle injections, so he wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. His guess was that it was some sort of special silplacid, going by the way his body felt. He’d never known silplacid to be able to hold a wellborn, but he’d heard rumors that if enough magic was poured into it, it would do the trick as long as you didn’t miss a dose for too long.

  His insides felt like they were on fire as if his blood was ripping and burning through his veins and there was nothing that he could do about it. He kept looking down at his skin, expecting the flesh to split open and reveal the raging inferno beneath, but it never happened. He was simply there, fully aware and in almost blinding pain. If this was what silplacid felt like to everyone, not just wellborns, he didn’t ever want this shit in his area. If he ever got out of this mess, the first thing he was going to do was press his father to outlaw it or something. This was terrible.