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

by John P. Logsdon

  “You heard me right,” I stated before Portman could comment. “We don’t know if they’re genuine or some type of magical concoction meant to lure me into a trap, but that’s why I’m wearing the funny cop suit.”

  “Uh…” His eyebrows fought to connect with each other. “You’re wearing the suit because you don’t want to be lured into a trap?”

  “No,” I said slowly. “I’m wearing the suit because I’m planning to face them down and take them out.”

  “Oh, right. That makes more sense.” He finally uncrossed his arms. “Where’s the rest of the crew?”

  “They’re in the Badlands having crazy se…” I paused and glanced up at the big man. “Sorry, I mean they’re currently indisposed.”

  He frowned and shook his head.

  “I knew I should have been a cop instead of a mortician. You guys have all the damn fun.”

  “Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “If you consider constantly fighting for your life as supers try to shred your flesh ‘fun,’ Portman, you’ve got a weird outlook on life.”

  “At least you’re getting laid.”

  “According to you,” I countered, “that’s got nothing to do with my being a cop. It’s simply a product of my not being married.”

  He grunted in response to that.

  “Anyway,” I continued, “I didn’t want the crew involved because if those guys really are amalgamites, it could get bloody.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “So what’s your plan?”

  “Get them to follow me out to the desert,” I answered. “I don’t want to fight them in town. Too many people could get hurt.”

  “True.”

  “But I was hoping to pick up some decent weapons and boobytraps while I was here.” I shrugged at him. “I couldn’t even chance picking up any of our Empirics.”

  “Why not?” he asked, looking confused. “They’re yours, aren’t they?”

  I went into the discussion regarding how different the Directors had been acting ever since the ubers had started infecting the Strip. I explained their odd behavior, and also gave him the inside scoop regarding Gabe and all the special abilities he’d given me over the year.

  By the time I’d finished, Portman looked like a man who understood exactly why I didn’t want to risk my team at this point.

  I was relieved at that, because I knew damn well my crew was going to be more than pissed when they figured out what was really going on. I just hoped I’d still be alive when they came to cuss me out.

  “Okay, Dex,” Portman said after a few moments of thought, “here’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll take the morgue van back to my place. I’ve got tons of explosives and other goodies. Been stockpiling them in case the supers decide to go batshit crazy at some point. We’ll pile some stuff up in my Jeep and head out to the desert, get set up, and wait for your buddies.”

  I honestly didn’t know what to say to that. In fact, I was kind of shocked by his offer. Sure, we were friends, but he would be putting his life on the line here.

  “I’m sorry, Portman,” I eventually said, “but I can’t ask you to do that.”

  He crossed his arms again.

  “You didn’t.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Based on the fact that Portman said he was one of those doomsday people who stored up weapons and such, I’d assumed we’d be driving to a trailer park to pick up supplies.

  Boy, was I ever wrong.

  His place was pretty posh. It was white with a beautiful brown roof and etchings. There wasn’t much of a yard in the front, but I was guessing that the back yard extended nicely because the houses on the way in that had the short front yard all had the big back yard.

  “You live here?” I said, probably sounding quite like a knob.

  “Yeah,” he said, and then gave me a look. “Why’d you say it like that?”

  “Huh? Oh…uh…I just…” I trailed off. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  I got out of the van and followed him up to the front door. He fumbled with his keys for a second and then pushed inside.

  The place was immaculate.

  There were hardwood floors straight through. The walls were painted in earthen tones, with sparsely hung artwork around each room. His furniture was primarily leather, which I kind of expected, but this was stuff you picked up at high-end joints. I didn’t know how much they were paying Portman to run the supernatural morgue, but damn.

  “I gotta say, man,” I stressed, “your house is stunning.”

  “It’s a place to hang my hat,” he replied, like it was nothing. “House like any other, I’d say.”

  “Well, if I ever do a makeover at my place, I’ll have to give your wife a call.”

  He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head down at me. “Two things, Dex: One, she didn’t do the design, I did; and two, stay away from my wife.”

  I started to laugh, but he looked serious.

  “Why does everyone think I’m such a cad?” I asked to the air, losing my humor. “I don’t screw around with married women, Portman. Besides, you’re a friend of mine, so even if I was lacking in morals, I’d hope to still have enough respect for you not to be a homewrecker.” I then shook my head at him. “And why would she want me anyway? She’s got a burly werebear for a husband. I can’t compete with that.”

  “Yeah, right,” he snorted, and then walked out into the garage.

  “Especially not one who can decorate like you can,” I called after him.

  He smacked the button on the wall and the garage door opened up before he started loading things into the Jeep like it was practiced. There were shovels, rope, and a series of weapons. But what worried me were the two big bags of lime.

  “Done this before, Portman?” I asked, feeling like I was at the scene of an investigation. “Not many people have all these items sitting in their garage, you know.”

  “I’ve done it once or twice,” he answered as he continued dumping stuff into the vehicle. “I helped Chief Michaels a couple times before you were on the force in Vegas.”

  Chief Michaels was the man I had replaced. He was one of my mentors as well. Great guy, but he could be tough and rugged when he wanted to be. And now that I was seeing a new side of Portman, it was clear that my old chief sometimes took matters into his own hands.

  “Don’t think things like that,” The Admiral said flatly. “You and I are still on shaky ground.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I don’t think I want to know the details of those arrangements,” I said.

  “Good thing,” Portman replied with a grunt. He’d just dumped a huge duffel bag into the back seat. “Wasn’t planning to tell you anyway.”

  “Right.”

  He motioned for me to hop in and get my seatbelt on. Within minutes we were cruising down the road toward the desert.

  I didn’t know if my ‘brothers’ knew I was back in town or not, but my assumption was they’d soon figure it out. If I kept moving, it’d make things trickier on them. At least I hoped so because that was my plan.

  Portman and I just needed to get everything set up first.

  What that ‘everything’ was, I didn’t know yet, but based on the amount of crap Portman had loaded into the Jeep, I was guessing it’d be interesting.

  “You said there were four of them, right?” he asked as the wind blew through my hair.

  “Yeah.”

  “That it?”

  Honestly, I hadn’t considered that there could be more. Four was bad enough. I hadn’t met them yet, no, but if they had the ability to pin down my crew, they were clearly pretty powerful.

  “I hope so,” I replied.

  “Me, too,” he laughed. “Can’t imagine you fighting four of yourself.”

  “I’ve been pretty heavily modified recently,” I told him, hoping that his loyalties to the Directors weren’t as heavy as Lydia’s. I hated sharing information about my new situation with anyone, but if Portman was willing to stand by my side then I owed him the truth. �
��I’m basically a full mage, werewolf, vampire, werebear, and everything now. All my skills and genetic tidbits hit full when I was bitten by a vampire.” I breathed out heavily. “I’m trying to keep that under wraps, though, so please don’t tell anyone.”

  He shot me a look. “Who am I going to tell?”

  “The Directors, maybe?”

  “Nah, Dex,” he said, shaking his head firmly. “I don’t trust those bastards. Once a person gets to their position of power, things get dicey. Priorities shift. Maybe it’s for the greater good, maybe not. But I don’t like dangling from the end of a string.” He pressed the accelerator. “Screw them, Dex. Chief of the PPD is about as far as I allow my trust to go.”

  That was essentially an outright admission that Portman trusted me. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised at that. I’d never done anything to give him reason to feel otherwise.

  “Thanks,” I said sincerely. “I appreciate that.”

  He shrugged.

  “One day you’ll get promoted,” he added with a wink. “Then I won’t trust you any more either.”

  I cracked a smile. “Probably wise.”

  “Yep.”

  CHAPTER 30

  We headed out toward Mt. Charleston, going off-road so we wouldn’t be too near the houses. It was clear that Portman had a plan for our final destination.

  “You sure they’ll be able to track you?” he asked as we finally pulled to a stop. “No point in doing all this if they ain’t gonna show up.”

  “I don’t know for sure,” I admitted, “but I’ve got the feeling they’ll find me. If not, I’ll make some noise.”

  Light pollution wasn’t horrible out where we were, which meant the sky opened up and the stars made me glad to be alive. Hopefully, I’d stay that way. I used to head out to the desert every now and then just to look up at the stars. It gave me time to think, unwinding from the stress of being a cop.

  I didn’t get to do that much anymore, now that Rachel and I were back together. She wasn’t fond of the outskirts and I wasn’t fond of getting grief over leaving her alone while I went stargazing by myself.

  “So, you brought a ton of stuff,” I announced as he began unloading everything. “I’m assuming that means you have a plan?”

  “Yep,” he replied. “I’ve practiced out here a bunch of times over the last few years. Already got a lot of things set up, too, just have to pull the safeguards.”

  “Safeguards?”

  He squinted at me. “Makes it so people don’t accidentally—”

  “I know what the term ‘safeguard’ means, Portman,” I interrupted him while wearing a grimace. “I’m asking what you’ve done out here that would require a safeguard?”

  “Ah, right,” he replied with a grin. Then, he pointed at one of the duffel bags. “Bring that along and I’ll show you.”

  When I first went to lift the bag, I thought I was going to dislocate my shoulder. Whatever the hell he had in there was damn heavy. From the clinking sounds, I assumed metals of some sort.

  “What in the world do you have in here, man?” I grunted as I heaved it over my head so that I’d have some balance. “Anvils?”

  “Explosives, mostly,” he answered over his shoulder.

  I immediately slowed my walk as my blood ran cold.

  “Explosives?” I yelped. “What the fuck am I carrying explosives around for?”

  “Because we’re going to blow stuff up, Dex,” he called back. “Isn’t that why we’re out here?”

  “Well…yeah, but you could have told me before I just started banging this bag around.”

  “They’re secured,” he laughed. “It’d take a lot more than just knocking them against each other for you to activate what I’ve got in there.”

  He put his hand out to stop me. He was studying the area carefully. Obviously, we were near his playground.

  “Bush,” he said, pointing. “Large rock, small rock, and flat stone.”

  He paused but kept scanning.

  Being that I was a dick, I started pointing at things and naming them too.

  “Cactus, dirt, pebbles…”

  I trailed off as he turned around, giving me a sinister look.

  “You do realize I can punch a hole through your chest, right?” he asked without inflection.

  “Not in my current state, my friend,” I countered. “You wouldn’t last five seconds.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “No,” I answered, forgetting that Portman wasn’t one to take challenges lightly, even if they were intended as simple ribbing. “Just riling myself up for my upcoming battle.”

  “Our upcoming battle,” he corrected me.

  “Yeah,” I said, wanting to tell him he wasn’t going to be around for the actual fight, but I needed him to help me set up first. That meant he had to keep thinking he’d be part of the mayhem. “Anyway, you were going to show me something with safeguards and all that?”

  He nodded and told me to stay put.

  Then, he carefully walked around the area, touching each of the items he had named before. Bush, large rock, small rock, and flat stone. I couldn’t see what he was doing to them, precisely, but after he’d completed messing with the last item, they all began to glow slightly.

  A few seconds later, the ground shifted and the glowing faded.

  I looked down, taking a step backward.

  Unless my eyes were deceiving me, which was doubtful considering my impeccable night vision, there was a massive platform, and it had a large, flat bar connected to it that ran straight out to a wheel of some sort. All of it was nearly flush with the ground, and since every piece was flat, except for the wheel that was masked by a few rocks near it, a person walking on any piece of the thing would just think they had stepped into a very slight shallow section of the ground.

  “Is that what I think it is?” I asked, not believing my eyes.

  “That depends,” Portman replied. “If you think it’s a catapult, then yep.”

  Why would he need a catapult out here? It wasn’t exactly an efficient weapon, after all, unless it fired really fast, at varying distances, and could rotate in order to strike all angles. But even if that had been the case, wouldn’t a gun be more effective in keeping people at bay?

  “I’m assuming you can adjust it?” I asked, baffled.

  “Some,” he affirmed, “but it ain’t for firing at people, Dex.”

  “Oh, okay then.” I nodded as I continued staring at it. “Actually, no, that’s not okay. What the hell is it for, if not to fire on people?”

  He smiled like a hyena who was about to have lunch.

  “Launching them.”

  “Huh?”

  He walked over and picked up a medium-size rock like it was nothing. I’d have guessed the one he’d selected was at least eighty pounds. Clearly, Portman was a very strong man.

  “It’s a pressure-sensitive switch. Anything over fifty pounds steps on it and zing!”

  “Zing?”

  “Watch,” he said, stepping over and dropping the rock on the platform from behind.

  A split second later, that rock was airborne, and it was quite a liftoff. It went a good one hundred feet into the air, fast. Based on the arc and the resulting thud of the landing, I’d also wager it landed a good quarter of a mile out.

  “Holy fuck bubbles, Portman,” I laughed. “Where the hell’d you get that idea?”

  “I come up with all sorts of things,” he answered. “The odder, the better. One person flying off due to this thing is going to make everyone else walk a hell of a lot slower, which will give me time to pick them off one by one.”

  After a hearty chuckle, he walked back over to the flat rock and pressed a few buttons, resetting the catapult to its resting position. Another few taps and something really cool happened.

  The ground covered over.

  It was clearly an illusion, but it was seamless. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought you were just walking over
a small patch of land. The deception would make the shallow feeling of stepping onto any part of the contraption even less suspicious.

  It’d probably take your brain at least a second to figure out that your wrong step had just morphed you into a projectile.

  Not fun.

  “I honestly never knew you were this warped, Portman,” I said, feeling both impressed and concerned. Ultimately, though, being impressed won out. “I gotta say, I think I like it.”

  “Good thing,” he remarked, “‘cause there’s also a tarpit, a spike pit, and a magical flame thrower.” He leaned in. “I had to get some help from Warren to hook that last one up.”

  That admission jolted me. Why would Warren be out here helping with something like this? He didn’t strike me as someone who would be into doomsday junk.

  “Warren?”

  “Yep. Weird guy, but he knows his stuff.” Portman motioned again to the ground where the catapult was hidden. “Covering up the catapult with a thin film of reality was his idea, too.”

  “No way.”

  “Yep.”

  “Anyone else on my team work on this stuff with you?”

  “Griff consulted early on,” he said, motioning for me to follow him, “but he stopped a few years back when he and Chuck took things to the next level in their relationship.”

  We spent the next thirty minutes going over the tarpit, the spike pit, and the flame thrower. All of these things were going to be used when I faced my ‘brothers.’ Whether any of them would work against them or not was yet to be seen, but my only hope was that they’d prove to make enough of a distraction to allow me to attack.

  After we layered the area with the explosives, Portman turned to me and rubbed his hands together.

  “This should be fun,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. His hair was standing on end. “I’m ready to fight.”

  “Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat. “About that…uh, I’m going to need you to leave the area.”