The Ian Dex Supernatural Thriller Series: Books 5 - 7 (Las Vegas Paranormal Police Department Box Sets Book 2)

by John P. Logsdon

  “Can you handle Portman and his crew, please?” I asked her.

  She gave me a quick nod and split.

  “Is there something going on, Chief?” Jasmine asked as she peered up at me from her position cuffing the goblins. “You seem…different.”

  “Rough morning, is all,” Rachel interjected. “We had another fight because he’s a big idiot.”

  We hadn’t had a fight, obviously, but Rachel’s claim would hopefully prove to distract Jasmine for a while.

  “Ah,” she said, not looking all that convinced. “I see.”

  “Felicia knows,” I said via direct connection to Rachel. “She has to.”

  “Then you may have to bring her in on it,” Rachel said, keeping her head down. “Just swear her to secrecy.”

  I nodded to myself, seeing that neither of them was looking at me.

  “I also need to be kept away from Chuck,” I noted. “He’ll sense the vampire. Shit…fact is that Jasmine is suspicious, too.”

  My adrenaline was through the roof. I hated keeping my team in the dark about things. It was hypocritical. Wasn’t I the one giving tons of shit to the Directors right now because they were withholding information from me?

  But was that even the same thing?

  The information they had could help us defeat ubers…maybe. But what did my sudden influx of powers buy my crew, aside from me being really damn strong? They’d understand why I was being snippy, sure, but that could be easily attested to a hangover or, as Rachel had suggested, a lover’s quarrel.

  “I’m going to have to be distant until I figure this out, Rachel,” I mumbled. “It’s either that or bring the team in on things.”

  She didn’t respond. Then again, she didn’t need to. What would she have said?

  “Ugh,” came the moaning voice of Spanx as he began to regain consciousness. “What happened?”

  “You lost, you little taint ridge,” I said, glad to hear the pixie in me had surfaced. “Half of your goons are dead and the rest of them surrendered.”

  “Wise guys,” he grunted. “Ain’t easy gettin’ good henchmen these days, pal.”

  “Don’t care,” I hissed, grabbing him by his collar. “What I do care about is knowing who put you up to this.” I shook him. “Spill it before I drain your blood, you ugly little foreskin wrinkle.”

  His eyes went wide with fear. Then his brow furrowed and he slapped my hands away.

  “Foreskin wrinkle?” he huffed. “What the hell’d ya call me that for?”

  “Just answer the question, Spunx,” I growled.

  “The name’s Spanx, pal,” he growled back, “and I don’t know the guy’s name.”

  Ah ha! So there was someone who had put Spanx up to this. I had a feeling that a bunch of goblins wouldn’t dare take it upon themselves to jump topside for the fun of it, and Spanx had to know that he couldn’t have possibly succeeded in taking over a casino.

  “What did he look like?” I pressed.

  “How the hell do I know?” he answered. “You all look the same to me. Chins, tits, balls, and asses. That’s all I see. Sometimes all on the same person!”

  “Fine,” I said, trying a different angle, “where did you meet him?”

  “In the shadows, copper,” Spanx answered as if it were a dumb question. “We was on the fourth level in the Badlands, like always, when this lady summons me up out of the blue.”

  “Lady?” I said.

  “Yeah. Some wizard dame. She set the connection. The guy with her was the one doing all the wheeling and dealing.” He tapped on his silver tooth for a moment. “Said we was all going to get paid some big coin if we did a run on this joint.”

  “What about your magic?” I asked him.

  He eyed me sideways. “What about it?”

  “Have you always been a mage?”

  “That’s kind of a personal question, ain’t it?”

  I glared.

  “Okay, okay,” he said, putting his hands up. “Yeah, was born a mage. Not common for my people, I know.”

  “You seem pretty powerful.”

  “That was part of the deal,” he mused. “Guessing that’s gonna be going away along with the cash, though, ain’t it?”

  “Quite.”

  I turned to find Rachel and Jasmine standing behind me. Their faces held as much disdain as mine.

  Whoever it was we were dealing with was really making life fun for us. First a djinn that could make me hallucinate, next I got infused with vampire venom so that my genetics started to activate, and now we had a goblin mage with boosted powers who was sent up here by some unnamed jizz canary to take over a casino. My assumption was this person was also the guy who’d brought the djinn on board, giving him the promise of stronger powers, too.

  “You’ll be stripped of your powers and sent to jail,” Rachel stated over my shoulder. “I would imagine you’ll be locked away for quite some time.”

  “Perfect,” Spanx said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together while holding a big grin. “It’ll be good to see the wife and kids again.”

  CHAPTER 12

  I purposely avoided Paula and Portman as I made my way out with Rachel by my side. There wasn’t much choice for me but to head back to the office. The Directors were going to want to know what had happened.

  “What are you going to say?” Rachel asked, breaking the silence as we drove in.

  “I’ll just tell them what happened with the goblins,” I answered. “Not going to say a damn thing about whatever is happening to me.”

  “Don’t you think they’ll notice? You’ll be seated in front of a mage, a werewolf, a vampire, and a pixie, Ian.”

  “I’ve been doing this for a long time, Rachel,” I ranted. “I’m well aware of who the Directors are.” Damn it. I’d done it again. “Gah! I’m sorry. This sucks and you should just stay away from me for a while.”

  “For better or worse, remember?”

  I gave her a look that included a squint, a furrowed brow, and a grimace.

  “We’re not married, Rachel.”

  “Obviously, dipshit,” she replied, rolling her eyes, “but the rule still applies.”

  Well, at least she called me a “dipshit” this time instead of fawning all over me for being a douche banana.

  “Anyway,” I said more gently, “the Directors aren’t technically in the room with me. They’re viewing remotely, so I don’t think it’ll be the same thing as when I’m physically present with someone.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” she mused. “Just in case, though, I would do my best to channel a fae or a non-tatted djinn.”

  She had a point, but I wasn’t sure if I could channel either of those races. I hadn’t come in contact with any of them.

  Wait, I also hadn’t come in contact with a werewolf and that little genetic gem was flaring. On top of that, I hadn’t come in contact with a mage either, unless you considered my boning Rachel before the incident with the djinn.

  I had to suppose that djinn or fae were active in me somehow, too. But how do you go about bringing out either of those living in your genetic code? And what about werebear? I would have thought it would jump up just like the wolf, but so far I had no desire to eat honey or salmon.

  The vampire in my DNA was easy to bring forth because it just required angst. Same with the werewolf and pixie, actually. The mage probably happened because we were attacked by magic.

  But a fae? Did I just have to try and look really, really, really good-looking? Maybe I needed to be a trickster? I honestly didn’t know the first thing about being overly sneaky. In fact, I was the guy who got the giggles when I knew a secret that Rachel didn’t.

  I ran my fingers through my hair as I glanced in the mirror, winking at myself.

  “What are you doing?” Rachel asked.

  “Trying to turn into a fae,” I answered after giving my reflection a smoochie. “They think they’re hot, so I’m trying to bring up the fae from deep inside.”

 
; “First off, you are hot,” Rachel stated. “Secondly, how did you get the others to surface?”

  “I didn’t do anything, Rachel. They just…happened.”

  “Hmmm.” She began tapping her chin. I loved it when she did that. It was cute. “Okay, so go for the djinn, then.”

  “And how, pray tell, would you recommend I do that?”

  She had no immediate answer to that question. Nor did I. If it were only as simple as saying “I want to be a djinn now,” that would rock the house.

  “Whoa,” Rachel whispered an instant later. “Look at your neck.”

  I did.

  Tats.

  Just thinking “I want to be a djinn” worked?

  Unreal.

  Rachel reached out and touched me, running her fingers along the lines of my newfound ink.

  “That is so hot.”

  “You’re weird,” I rebuffed. “This won’t work anyway, unless I wear a turtleneck sweater.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, Rachel,” I laughed, “the Directors know I don’t have any tattoos on my neck.”

  “Oh, right.”

  I refrained from calling her an idiot, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I sincerely wanted to. She was letting her libido get in the way of duty and that was…exactly what I had done on more occasions than I cared to admit.

  “I don’t suppose you can do the djinn thing with my dreams, can you?”

  “Seriously, Rachel?” I grunted. “That’s what you want to be discussing right now?”

  She nodded. “Kind of, yeah.”

  This honestly wasn’t fair. Rachel was always horny, just like any PPD cop—except Warren and Turbo…and probably countless others, now that I think about it. Anyway, Rachel was one of the officers who stayed horny all the time. I was the worst of them all, usually. But there was a time and a place for that sort of thing and right now, right here wasn’t it.

  “I think we should roll with it, dude,” The Admiral suggested. “We could do all sorts of freaky shit with her at the moment.”

  “Remember that she can hear you,” I pointed out.

  “I know,” he said back like he was proud of it.

  I peered over and found Rachel was almost imperceptibly grinning. Her face was flushed, too. Great. That meant I was going to have to play a game where I went about tweaking with my girlfriend’s dreams.

  “Why are you thinking that like it’s a bad thing?”

  True.

  As long as she was into it and I was into it, who should care? I wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to do, after all. That wasn’t my modus operandi. Besides, I’d make sure she had a safe word.

  We continued the rest of the way in silence, but once we turned in to the main area, I opened a broadcast and doled out commands.

  “Listen up, gang. I’m going in to meet with the Directors about the goblins. While I’m in there, I want everyone scouring for information regarding the guy who put the goblins up to this little show.” I gave a quick nod at Rachel. “Report whatever you find to Rachel. If you need any details about the final encounter I had with the main goblin, Rachel will give it to you. Ian, out.”

  Since when did I say “Ian out?” That was just strange.

  Thankfully, Rachel didn’t say a word about it. She merely got out of the Aston Martin, walked in beside me, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and then headed toward the conference room.

  If nothing else, I knew I could count on her to get the job done. That was good because I needed to keep to my office as much as possible.

  After dealing with the Directors, anyway.

  CHAPTER 13

  Everyone was present and accounted for. Silver, the vampire chief, sat on the left; Zack, the head of the werewolves, was next; then came O, the lead mage; and last, and most definitely least, was the chief of the pixies, EQK.

  The last few times we’d met, it hadn’t gone so well. I was always tight-lipped and so were they.

  There was once a time when these meetings were almost beneficial. They’d ask how things were going, I’d tell them we had a couple of werewolves defiling public property or maybe a fae scalping hockey tickets, and that’d be that. But then the ubers arrived. Once that happened, our dynamic changed a fair bit. Instead of a relatively decent discourse, I’d get grilled on the ubers, get talked down to a lot, and get the runaround whenever I asked for help.

  It got worse after I’d defeated Rot the pixie, though.

  EQK had freaked out, spouting off about how Rot was supposed to have been dead. “Killed during the raids,” whatever that meant. I never got any further information because the Directors started yelling at each other until O finally cut communications completely, leaving me sitting alone in the room and wondering what the hell was going on.

  Since then, we hadn’t discussed anything besides the mundane. Of course, there really wasn’t much to talk about since Rot’s appearance. Without ubers around, things tended to get a bit boring.

  “Mr. Dex,” said O, taking lead as he always did, “we heard there was a ruckus down at New York-New York. Anything to report?”

  I had to keep myself in check here, especially if EQK blurted something out like he usually did. Technically, I was allowed to call him names ever since I claimed that it was a cultural thing for me. They’d argued the point, but seeing that I’m the only amalgamite in existence, my “culture” is pretty much self-determined.

  Still, I opted to go pedantic.

  “Sir,” I said robotically, “there were a number of goblins topside, wearing gangster gear from the early twentieth century. They carried tommy guns and they intended to take over the casino. We stopped them and they are now being processed and will be sent to the Tribunal for sentencing.”

  “Any fatalities?” Zack asked.

  “Goblins only, sir.”

  “How many?”

  “Last count was eleven,” I answered, thinking it was probably more like eighteen. “I can have a final tally sent to you once we have completed our paperwork.”

  The air in the room felt stale to me. Like it was barely moving. This probably had to do with the fact that I didn’t like this part of my job, especially since information flow seemed like a one-way street with these guys.

  “Were any normals affected adversely?” asked Silver in his smooth voice.

  “None that I’m aware of, sir,” I replied, keeping my eyes straight ahead. Seeing that I knew there’d be a follow-up question, I quickly added, “The Spin was called to the scene, though, and this one should be relatively easy for them to manage. Goblins wearing mobster suits and carrying tommy guns in New York-New York is almost dying to be a show, after all.”

  Silver grunted.

  If nothing else, the ubers had brought some very interesting elements that could be exploited on the Strip. The wizard battles at Excalibur, pixie dust beast showdowns, and the zombie hunt out in the desert were just three ideas. Actually, Paula did make the zombie hunting one a reality. But now we had a new wrinkle in the form of gangster goblins. It was silly, but the normals would eat it up.

  “You’re fucking hiding something, you dickless wonder,” EQK chirped out of the blue. “I don’t know what it is, but something’s off about you.”

  “Whatever do you mean, EQK?” I replied with an innocent look. “I have told you all I know.”

  “Don’t try to play me, ass nugget,” he shot back. “I practically invented bullshit.”

  “Technically, EQK,” Silver countered, “it’s well documented that bulls invented it.”

  “Fuck you, fang face. He knows what I mean.”

  Obviously, EQK was picking up on my demeanor. Everyone else in the room was too self-involved to notice that I was acting any differently. Or, more likely, they didn’t care. But EQK was a pixie, and pixies were known for seeking out weak spots in a person. They watched you, studied you, and kept tabs on any changes in your behavior so they could pounce at the tiniest sign of weakness. This was somethin
g I should have taken into account when I decided to go stone-faced in this meeting.

  “I’m fine,” I replied without changing my voice or posture. “I just woke up with a headache and it’s not improved any.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” said O, sounding genuine. “You should request one of your mages to remedy it.”

  “I hadn’t considered that, sir,” I acknowledged. “I’ll do so after this meeting.”

  “You guys can cure headaches?” Zack asked. “I get migraines all the time.”

  “Cure? No. But we can help alleviate symptoms from time to time.”

  “So can ibuprofen,” Silver said with a sigh.

  “Doesn’t work for migraines,” Zack argued.

  “Fine, then take an aspirin or get a prescription,” Silver groaned. “The point is that you don’t need to resort to magic over every little thing.”

  “Magic is just as worthwhile as—”

  “He’s lying,” EQK said loudly enough to be heard but quietly enough to make everyone listen. You see, when EQK usually spoke, it was at a volume that makes you want to ignore him. Well, that and the content was usually vulgar and unhelpful. But when he spoke at a reasonable decibel, people paid attention. “I know he’s lying.”

  “Who?” said Zack.

  “Eaten Dix, of course,” grumbled EQK. “For fuck’s sake, Zackhole, where have you been?”

  “Watch it, pixie,” Zack growled back. “I don’t like being called names.”

  EQK snorted. “So?”

  Fine. The pixie was on to me, but I was going to continue playing it aloof. He couldn’t prove anything as long as I kept my mouth shut. EQK had nothing to stand on, unless I tripped up.

  “Is there something more you wish to tell us, Mr. Dex?” O asked.

  “No, sir,” I replied with a shrug. “I have no idea what Director EQK is talking about.”

  “There!” EQK said. “Did you not hear that, you mentally deranged pecker sniffers?”