Dead-tective Box Set (Vampire Mystery-Romance)

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Dead-tective Box Set (Vampire Mystery-Romance) Page 38

by Flynn, Mac


  "About time," a voice wheezed, and Bat made his appearance at the barn door. In one hand was a thick stick used as a cane. He smiled at us, but his body shook.

  Vince and I rushed over to him. "Are you hurt?" I asked him.

  He waved away our helpful hands. "It's nothing you can fix, either of you." Bat turned and gestured for us to follow him into the barn. He led us to a stack of bales on one side of the decrepit structure. I noticed Bat shuffled more than walked, and his hands trembled. He lowered himself to a bale with a stacked pair for backing, and a coughing fit overcame him. Vince hurried to steady him, but Bat held up a hand while he coughed into the other one. "I'm not so far gone that I need someone to hold me like I'm an infant," he protested.

  "Too far gone?" I repeated.

  Bat rallied himself and nodded. "Yes. You see, I'm dying." Vince started, and Bat chuckled. "You thought it could never happen, what with my blood? Well, it can. It seems nothing lasts forever, even immortality." He chuckled, but the sound ended in another fit of coughing. Bat leaned back against the pile behind his seat and sighed. "I've been dying for a while, but Tim. . .Tim's own death hastened my calling."

  "Come on, you've got a few more centuries," I insisted.

  Bat smiled, but shook his head. "No. A few hours, maybe a day. My heart-" he tapped his chest, "-my heart is giving out. Much as my crusty exterior hates to admit it, but my heart aches for Tim." He closed his eyes and I saw a few loose tears squeeze from beneath the lids. "A man should never outlive his son."

  My mouth dropped open. "Tim was-" Bat held up his hand and opened his eyes.

  "No, not in the blood way," he assured me. "He was a young man when I first met him in London. He had the plague, but such life was in him. I couldn't let him die, not in the flower of his youth, so I gave him the ring." He chuckled and turned to Vince. "I remember how angry you were with me for giving my ring to a stranger, but I know I made the right choice, and you thought so, too, after a time." Vince hung his head and said nothing.

  "But we still need you, now more than ever!" I protested. I looked to Vince. "Vince, the letter from Tim."

  Vince straightened and pulled the letter. He handed it to Bat, who held the slip of paper between his shaking hands. Bat's lips moved in a silent reading, but he shook his head and handed the paper back to Vince. "I'm afraid I don't know what it means. Tim was always smarter than I at these damned puzzles of his."

  "So we're stuck with nowhere to go," I mused.

  Bat chuckled. "Tim wouldn't make a riddle his friends couldn't solve. You'll figure out-" Another coughing fit overcame him. The fit rattled his thin frame, and my eyes widened when I beheld a dribble of blood flow from the corner of his mouth. Vince knelt in front of Bat and grabbed his arm. Bat smiled at the vampire. "Old friend, I'm sorry to leave you. This sounds stupidly selfish, but I think I'm ready to go."

  Vince shook his head, and his glasses slipped enough that I could see a few loose tears of blood in the lip of his eyes. "No, old nemesis, it doesn't. Every human wishes for death at some point. It is. . .it is merely your time."

  Bat smiled and turned his gaze to me. "Well, at least I'm leaving you with a competent babysitter. Tim was the best at getting you to obey without you complaining much, but I think this young lady here is the best at convincing you to do it because it needs to be done."

  I snorted. "Everyone keeps telling me that, but Vince keeps proving them wrong."

  Bat turned her head to Vince. "Vincent, will you leave us for a moment? I wish to speak with Liz alone."

  "Me? Don't you want to talk to Vince alone?" I asked him.

  Bat shook his head. "No, only you. Vincent, please leave."

  Vince raised an eyebrow, but gave a nod and stood. I gave him a quizzical look he ignored as he walked to the barn doors and shut them behind him. We were alone.

  Chapter 8

  "Liz," Bat spoke up, and I returned my attention to him. "There is something I must tell you about the ring. About how to remove it from your finger."

  My eyes widened. "So there is a way to get it off besides dying?" I asked him.

  He nodded. "Yes. A selfless act will-" He winced and clutched his chest.

  "Maybe you can say this later?" I suggested, but he shook his head.

  "Not. . .not much time. I must tell you that. . .that a selfless act will allow the wearer to remove the ring."

  "A selfless act? What kind of selfless act?" I persisted.

  "One in which death is nearly certain, for love can nullify the strongest magic. I forsook a longer life to save Tim, and he sought to protect you from Ruthven's wrath when he set the ring in the box beneath his bed," he explained.

  "But what happens if I don't have anyone to give it to? Won't that mean Vince is free and will try to kill me?" I pointed out.

  Bat smiled and his eyes studied my face. "Do you believe he will?"

  I shrugged. "I don't know what goes through that head of his. Sometimes I think he wants to eat me, and other times-" I paused and shook my head.

  "And other times?" Bat wondered.

  "And other times-well, other times I think he's one bat short of a belfry," I quipped.

  Bat chuckled and set his hand over mine. "Whatever you decide, trust that Vincent will do what his soul commands him."

  I snorted. "I don't think he can hear it all the way from the apartment."

  "You would be surprised how closely attached to it he now is," Bat mused. He covered his mouth to stifle another horrible, body-wracking cough.

  I felt the time was growing short when I could ask him about Vince, and me. "Bat? What. . .what will happen to the rings when you-well, when you-"

  "Die?" he guessed, and he swayed his head from side to side. "I don't know. My blood inside your ring may last until it dries to dust, or you may both be freed from the magic, or you might be connected to each other forever."

  I cringed. "And nothing but this selfless act would get it off me?" I guessed.

  Bat opened his mouth to speak, but he was shaken by another fit of coughing. More blood dribbled from his mouth and his body shuddered. The fit passed, and he managed a smile at me. "It seems I was overly optimistic about a few hours," he mused. "Please, call Vincent back in here."

  I reluctantly moved from his side and hurried over to the door. I peaked outside and found Vince standing twenty yards off. "Vince. You need to come back in here," I told him.

  Vince heard the urgency in my voice and swept past me into the barn. I turned to find him by Bat's side. The old man turned his head to Vince and set his hand on Vince's. "Bury me with Tim, will you? One last favor to an old friend." Vince gave a nod and Bat chuckled as I came up to them. "Good, and don't. . .cause too much trouble when I'm gone. I don't want-" Another fit overtook him and Bat's breathing grew more shallow. He closed his eyes, but the smile remained on his lips. "I don't want to have to interrupt my-my heavenly vacation to come down here and. . .and haunt you."

  Bat's head lolled to one side. His chest ceased to move. I knelt down and grabbed his hand. Nothing moved inside the veins. The heat of life was leaving him. "Bat? Bat?" I whispered. No response. He was gone.

  Vince bowed his head, and I couldn't stop a sob from escaping my throat. My partner slipped his arms beneath Bat's limp body and lifted him. He turned away and walked to the entrance where he turned his head towards me. "We must burn him as he requested."

  I nodded and stood. One final request for our fallen friend.

  An hour later Vince and I stood together in front of a roaring fire of dried, rotten wood. Atop the pile was Bat's wrapped body covered in an old tarp we found laying in the barn. I looked to my partner for any signs of grief. He stood stiffly by my side and his cheeks glistened with moisture that wasn't from the air.

  "Are you all right?" I whispered.

  "Yes," came the blunt reply.

  "Do you-"

  "No."

  "All right, but if you need to talk," I persisted. He said nothing, and I raised my ri
ng finger and studied the glistened trinket. "Think anything happened?" I whispered to my partner.

  "No," Vince replied.

  I sighed and dropped my hand to my side. "So what now?"

  He pulled out Tim's note and studied the contents. "We must finish what Tim started, and hope it will lead to Ruthven's destruction."

  "And if we can't?" I wondered.

  "That isn't an option," he returned.

  I nodded at the paper. "If we can't figure that thing out then it's the only option we have." I stepped close to Vince and leaned forward to read the message. "'Where it began so shall it end.'" I pressed my lips together and frowned. "Damn Tim and his wittiness. He was always an ass, even the first time-" My eyes widened and I whipped my head up to Vince. "I've got it!" I paused and furrowed my brow. "At least, I think I do."

  He raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

  "'Where it began' could mean where he met one of us, or Bat. Where'd he meet you guys?" I questioned him.

  "Venice."

  I cringed. "Well, since I don't think Tim had time to hop on a plane and do something over there, let's assume it's where he met me. That'd be the park downtown."

  Vince snatched my hand and pulled me towards the car. "We must hurry before the day comes."

  I looked behind us at the roaring fire. "Uh, what about Bat?" I reminded him.

  "He will not be bothered by our leaving."

  "You're such a romantic," I quipped as he dragged me into the car.

  Vince pressed his foot to the gas pedal and never let it leave the floor as we careened down the country roads and back into the dark city. The clock was ticking. The sun would rise in a few hours, and we'd have to go underground, or at least take a long nap. Vince drove through the less busy side streets and we ended up on the far side of the park near one of the parking lots. He finally pressed the brake and we skidded into one of the many empty spots in the lot.

  I opened the door and stumbled out. "I wish you wouldn't be trying to do Ruthven's work by killing us," I scolded him.

  "Where exactly did you meet Tim?" Vince questioned me.

  I nodded at the far side of the park. The place was a menagerie of bike and walking trails that wound around a large pond made in the likeness of the number eight. The center was thinner than the two ends, and over the center was a stone bridge. Trees grew around the water and spotted the green grass that bordered the walking paths. Hills rolled through the park and assisted the various hedges of bushes in obscuring a clear view of the entire area in any one spot.

  "Over here," I told him.

  I led Vince along the deserted walking path and over the hills to the stone bridge over the clear, serene water. We crossed the bridge and I paused to glance at the water beneath us. The still surface reflected my face, and I saw it was ghastly pale. I reached up and touched my sallow cheek. Vince came up beside me and set a hand on my shoulder.

  "We don't have time for this," he insisted.

  I shook myself and nodded at the bushes that sat at the end of the opposite side of the bridge. "I found him in those bushes."

  Vince strode over the brush and waded into the mess. He knelt down and disappeared beneath the scrawny branches. "There is something here."

  "What is it?" I asked as I hurried forward. I reached the brush as Vince stood. In his hands was a dirt-covered metal box. There was a lock on the front in the form of a man's wizened old face with an open mouth. My eyes widened at the familiarity of the lock and box. "That's just like the box Tim hid under his bed, and isn't that the same lock like you have on the money box?" I pointed out.

  Vince freed himself from the brush and led me over to a nearby stone bench. He set the box on the bench and inserted his finger into the mouth of the lock. The mouth bit down hard enough to draw blood, and the mechanism sprang open. Vince lifted the lid and revealed a-book?

  My mouth dropped open. It was a book with a bumpy, plain brownish cover with faded gold inlay. There wasn't any writing anywhere I could see. "That's it? That's why Tim was killed?" I asked Vince.

  Vince pulled the book out and flipped through the pages. I could see a gibberish language on the sheets and a few pictures. The farther he flipped the deeper Vince frowned. "This book is the master spell book, the one on which the others have been based."

  "So we found the template for those others? What's so important about that?" I wondered.

  "There are a great deal of spells in here that aren't contained in the mass-produced books. They are powerful spells, spells even Vera would have difficulty casting, and Bat would have had trouble concocting," Vince explained to me. He paused at the last page and his mouth was slightly ajar.

  "What? What is it?" I asked him. I slid beside him and glanced at the page. It was handwritten like the other pages, but the ink was fresh and vibrant. There was an illustration of a ring-our rings-and notes in English that included the ring specifications and ratio of human blood to vampire blood. "Our rings? How'd he find out this stuff?"

  "Through trial and error," a voice spoke up. We whipped our heads up and saw Ron Field standing ten yards from us. His usual thin smile was on his tight lips and he bowed to us. "But Lord Ruthven would be better at explaining the intricacies than I. If you would come with us, he awaits your presence at his home." He paused and held out his hand. "But first, the book, if you will."

  Vince shoved the book into my hands and the ring on his finger glowed. "We have dealt with you before," Vince warned Field.

  Field bowed his head. "You have, but not with those I have brought." He snapped his fingers and from the darkness emerged doppelgangers and werewolves. The dogs snarled at us, and the doppelgangers gnashed their long, sharp teeth. "You may be able to destroy the doppelgangers with your light, but the werewolves will certainly destroy you while you're distracted, so what will it be? Will you come?" Vince snarled, but straightened and his stance relaxed. Field's smile broadened. "A good choice."

  Field snapped his fingers again and a pair of werewolves came up behind us. One grabbed Vince's hands and clamped silver manacles with steel inner lining over his wrists. The other werewolf tried to snatch the book away from me, but the moment his clawed hand touched the cover a burning light shot from the fabric. The light soaked into his body and raced up the veins in his arms. He had enough time to howl in pain before his body was engulfed in the light and he exploded into a million falling pieces of glitter.

  "Holy shit!" I yelped as I stumbled back from the exploded werewolf.

  Field's mood darkened. "Give the book over to me," he demanded.

  Vince stiffened. "Do not give the book to anyone," my partner ordered me.

  "What? Why? What the hell's wrong with this thing?" I asked him.

  "The book cannot be taken from you," Vince explained.

  "How the hell is that going to help me if they kill me?" I argued. One of the werewolves snuck behind me, and I swung around and pressed the book against him. The light engulfed him like his companion, and in a few seconds there was another shower of glitter. "Oh, that's how it's going to help," I quipped.

  "So long as you hold it you will not be harmed, but you can't say the same for your partner," Field spoke up. He held up one of his hands with his fingers splayed outward and his palm facing towards me. His fingers glowed with magic, and I saw a glow beside me.

  The bands around Vince's wrists glowed with a similar light. The top half of the inch-thick silver melted and morphed into thin tendrils. The tendrils rose up like attacking snakes and snapped their bodies against Vince. He cried out and stumbled forward as their points of attack sizzled from the contact of vampire skin against silver.

  "Vince!" I yelled. I spun around and held the book towards Field. "Let him go or everyone gets a taste of the book!"

  Field closed his fingers towards his palm and the tendrils latched onto Vince's arms. They sank through his clothes and smell of burning flesh permeated the air. Smoke rose from Vince's body and he stumbled forward and fell on one knee.
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  "There are several ways to kill you both at the same time. My fingers might slip and your partner will die," Field threatened me.

  I clenched my teeth and glared at him. "Fine! We'll go with you!" I held out the book.

  Field's eyes flitted to one of the doppelgangers. The shadow creature flew over to me and snatched the book from my hand. Field lowered his hand and it ceased to glow, releasing Vince from the bindings of the silver tendrils. A werewolf clamped silver manacles on my wrists and pushed me forward. Another pulled Vince to his feet and shoved him beside me.

  "That was not wise," he hoarsely whispered to me.

  "You got a better plan?" I hissed.

  "There will be enough talk when you speak with Lord Ruthven," Field told us.

  The henchman led our large group of supernaturals through the park to the parking lot where sat our car. A doppelganger slithered out from beneath the car and grinned at us. That explained how they followed us. I spat on the creature, and it recoiled and hissed at me.

  Besides our car, there was a large, steel-looking van and several small black cars. The rear doors of the van opened and the werewolves piled inside. Field led us to one of the sleek black cars and opened the door. He turned to us with that sick smile on his face. "Step faster. The lord awaits us."

  Chapter 9

  We slipped into the car and found it had a back with opposing seats that stretched across the entire width of the vehicle. There was a dividing wall between the rear and the front, and a closed window that could slide down. We took the rear seats, and Field slid in after us and took the seat opposite where we sat. The car pulled out of the parking lot and bumped along the roads towards our unknown destination. The windows were too darkly tinted to see out them. I could tell we moved at a fast clip because of all the bumps we rode over.

  Field held the book in his lap, and his hand brushed against the cover. "Quite an exquisite piece of work. Real human flesh for the cover, though you can't tell," he mused.

 

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