I had time to make out the man’s face. He was in his forties, with short brown hair, a too-large nose, and sad black eyes. And then the man raised his fist and punched me in the face with the force of a freight train plowing into a car.
Chapter Six
I have been knocked out before, and the results are uniformly the same. First, my body aches like I went twelve rounds with a professional boxer. Second, my eyes open to a blinding light. And, if that’s not bad enough, I vomit all over myself.
I’d like to say this time was different, but it wasn’t.
Every bone in my body was letting me know that something terrible had happened. I opened my eyes and the blazing light drilled into my skull.
I tried to hold back, but I convulsed, and a hot rush of bile sprayed from my mouth. I tried to lean forward to brace myself, only to realize I was bound upright.
My stomach didn’t care.
The vomit splattered across the floor. My stomach heaved and heaved, with no break for me to inhale, until I thought I might pass out. But my stomach finally settled, and I was able to suck in a deep, gasping breath, and that’s when I realized I was chained to a hard metal chair.
What the—?
I craned my neck to look around, but that upset my stomach again. Whatever bile I had left in me splashed across the floor to join the rest until there was nothing left but spit. I tried to lean forward, but my arms were pinned behind me.
I was in a room of featureless concrete and stone the size of a small bedroom. A tripod work light stood against the wall, shining its cruel light on my face. Sitting on a chair in front of me, watching me with disdain, was the man from Henry’s mansion.
He stared at me with empty eyes. “What’s your name, kid?”
His voice was calm, as if there was nothing abnormal about our circumstances. I shook my head, and the smell of must and mildew mixed with the stench of vomit now cooling on the concrete floor. “I’m not telling you anything.”
The man stood, withdrew a small handheld object, and jammed it into my side. Electricity jolted through me again, and I jerked and spasmed against the chains. It only lasted a few seconds, but the pain was so intense it felt like hours.
The man returned to his chair and held the Taser casually in front of him. “What’s your name, kid?” he repeated.
I sucked in air, trying to regain some sense of control. “I’m not telling you!”
“I can do this all day, kid. It won’t kill you, but it will damned sure hurt.”
“I—”
“You’re a hunter,” the man said. “Like me. I feel it inside you. Why don’t you make it easier on yourself and tell me your name? I don’t want to keep hurting you, but I will.”
His voice was matter-of-fact, the way some discussed the weather, and I had no doubt that the man was true to his word. “Sam. Sam Harlan.”
The man sighed. “Jack’s great-great-whatever. That makes a twisted kind of sense.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What are you doing with the woman and the old vampire?”
I tried to figure out what to tell him, and then it dawned on me. “You’re Garski.”
The man didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. Now that I knew who he was, I could feel what he had described. The vampire essence that now lived in me recognized the same in him.
Then I remembered what Desmond Jackson had said about Garski being crazy.
“You’re Joe Garski,” I said. “The Chicago hunter.”
“My friends call me Joe,” Garski said. “You are not my friend. Right now, I’m not sure what you are, but I’m going to find out. You were there when Silas and Jack killed each other?”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Oh? Enlighten me.”
“I killed Silas.”
Garski didn’t even blink. “Did you?”
“That’s right.”
“And Jack?”
I thought about lying, but I figured I owed the older hunter the truth. “I killed him after he … turned without getting the gift.”
Garski nodded slowly. “I was hoping that part was wrong. Then what?”
“I don’t understand.”
“What did you do then?”
“I … went home.”
“To Arcanum.”
“How did you know that?”
Garski just stared at me.
An uneasiness settled into the pit of my stomach. Garski apparently knew more about me than I did about him. “I … was attacked by my wife.”
“You killed her?”
I nodded.
“Then what?”
“I took my daughter to Peoria.”
“The old priest. Lewinheim.”
“Yes.”
“Continue.”
“I … killed my daughter.”
Garski shook his head. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. She was already dead.”
My jaw dropped. “How did you know that?”
“Then you went to Iowa. You ran into a vampire named Santiago.”
“How do you know about that?”
“There’s not much I don’t know about you, kid. You fought and killed Santiago. Then you ran into trouble downstate. Monticello. A vampire. You barely made it out alive.”
“But I did make it out.”
Garski said nothing.
“I’ve made it this far—”
“You’ve had your ass handed to you,” Garski said. “You don’t even know what you’re up against. Go home, kid. Go back to Toledo and live some other life. This life ain’t for you.”
“I’m a hunter,” I said.
“You’re a fool. You keep putting yourself in danger. You keep putting that Calahane girl in danger. You put innocents in danger. Then there’s the issue of the old vampire.”
“What about him?”
“You’re pretty chummy with him.”
“He’s the sheriff.”
Garski’s lip curled up. “Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Says who?”
“Well … everyone. Jack knew him. Other vampires know him.”
“Kid, I’ve killed almost thirty vampires. I know Jack killed more—a lot more—but I’ve learned to never, never trust a vampire. They lie. It’s what they are.”
“Henry helps me.”
“Maybe he has,” Garski admitted. “You ought to be asking yourself why. Why would that … that ancient thing help you? No offense, kid, but you aren’t anything. You’re just Jack’s kin. I respected Jack, but he didn’t have the stones to do what needed to be done, or you wouldn’t be in this situation—”
The anger rose like a hot fire within me, and I strained against the chains. “That’s not true! Silas was too much for him! Silas was crazy! It made him dangerous…”
Garski waited for me to wind down. “Jack killed worse than Silas. Maybe he couldn’t get the drop on Silas, or maybe it was because a part of him didn’t want to get the drop on Silas, or maybe it was because he knew what was coming. No man had Jack’s number of vampire kills. Who knows, kid? Who really knows?”
My anger slowly subsided. Garski was voicing many of the same thoughts I had entertained over the months. “It’s not like that.”
“Sure it’s not. You had a bad run-in with a vampire in Dallas. Tell me about it.”
I wanted to jump from the chair and smash my fist against Garski’s smug face. “The woman killed her children. Her babies. It … I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“That’s a good sign. It means you’re not too far gone. Get out, kid. You’re not cut out for this life. The fact that you trust that old vampire is all the proof I need. You may have the heart, but you don’t have the brains. You’re going to get yourself killed, or the Calahane girl killed. You think she deserves that? You already lost one of the Calahanes. Don’t make it two.”
“How do you know so
much about us?”
“There’s a reason why Chicago isn’t infested with vampires. I stake ’em. Keeps the population to a minimum. The only ones I can’t get rid of are the old-timers.”
“Desmond said Tessa Spurlock might have something to do with all the missing men.”
“That’s what he said?” Garski asked. “Spurlock came here after you and Jack wiped out most of Silas’s clutch. I was on her a few days after she entered the city. By the time I found out what went down in Indianapolis, Spurlock had probably killed a dozen men. Slaughtered them in their prime. You think Desmond didn’t know about that? You don’t think he’s in on it?”
“Wait,” I said. “How did you know when Spurlock came to Chicago?”
“I got my ways, kid. I’m not going to tell you all my secrets. What’s the sheriff doing?”
“We’re here to find out what happened to all the missing men,” I said. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“I already know the answers to most of my questions.”
“Then why ask me? Why kidnap me? What do you want?”
“I want to know what is going on in my town. What about the other vampires? The Ancients, they call themselves.”
I hesitated. “I don’t know—”
“Really?” Garski asked. The tone of his voice shifted, more menacing than shoptalk. “It’s not a good idea to lie to me.”
There were footsteps behind me, and then the sound of creaking door hinges. A man’s voice asked, “Are you finished?”
Garski glanced over my shoulder. “Nearly.”
There was movement behind me, and an older man with thinning white hair dressed in black with a priest’s collar studied me, then turned to Garski. “You said you wouldn’t hurt him.”
“He’s fine, Ray. I just needed to get his attention.”
“We cannot harm him.”
“You can’t harm him. I can do pretty much whatever I want.”
I caught the priest’s eyes. “Tell this maniac to let me go.”
The priest whirled around. “Release him, Joseph.”
Garski stood and gave the priest a disgusted look. “He’s with the old vampire. The sheriff.”
“He’s also with Sister Calahane. Unchain him.”
“You can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs.”
“He’s not an omelet. He’s a human being.”
“Suit yourself, but I’m not going to have him stumbling around Chicago causing more problems than he solves.” Garski turned to me. “You understand?”
I blinked. “Are you threatening me?”
“He isn’t,” the priest insisted.
“Yes,” Garski said. “I am. I’m threatening you, and warning you, and anything else I need to do. Get out of my city, kid. I’ve got enough problems.” He tossed a set of keys to the priest and stalked past me, stopping long enough to slam his fist into my face.
My nose erupted in pain, and I gasped for breath, choking back snot and blinking furiously to clear my vision.
“Joseph!” the priest shouted.
“Just giving him a love tap,” Garski said with a smirk, “to get his attention.” He slammed the steel door behind him as he left.
The old priest bent and unlocked the padlock that held my chains. “I apologize for Joseph’s behavior. We’re all on edge. He just hasn’t learned to…”
I shrugged out of the chains and stood. “Learned not to be an ass?”
The old priest stuck out his hand. “I’m Raymond Burzynski.”
I stared at the man until he withdrew his hand. “Do you always let maniacs kidnap people?”
The old priest looked away, then handed me my Kimber. “This is yours, I’ve been told.”
I snatched the gun from him, checking that it was still loaded, then put it back in the ankle holster. “Where am I?”
“Under the church. Please, follow me.”
I followed Burzynski up several flights of concrete stairs to a stained-glass door. He opened it, and I looked down the steps to a row of two-story brick buildings across the street. “Where am I?” I repeated.
“Saint Mary of the Angels.”
I didn’t respond. Burzynski caught my gaze, then sighed and handed me a cell phone. I punched in Callie’s number and waited.
“Hello?” Callie answered.
“It’s me.”
“Sam? Where are you?”
I turned to glare at the priest. “Saint Mary of the Angels. Do you know where that is?”
I heard her speaking quietly to someone. “Henry says you’re in Bucktown. We’re about twenty minutes from there. Are you okay?”
I rubbed my still-stinging nose. “Yeah. I’m on the north side of the church, next to a parking lot.”
“We’re on our way. Just hold tight.”
I hung up the phone and handed it back to Burzynski. “You have a really funny way of treating people.”
“Do you know what you’re up against?” Burzynski asked softly. “Many, many young men are missing.”
“I know—”
“You don’t understand. With all the gang violence and shootings, the authorities haven’t noticed. Yet. Bodies drained of blood have turned up. It’s bound to draw unneeded attention. We do what we can to contain the vampire threat to this city without anyone knowing, and we owe much of that to Joseph.”
“Henry threatened the vampires in Chicago years ago. He told them not to kill anybody.”
Burzynski frowned. “That makes … sense. The vampires in this city have been unusually restrained for almost a generation.”
“Then why is Garski such a jerk?”
Burzynski chewed at his lip. “There are two groups of vampires in this city.”
“Yeah. We met with both of them.”
“Then you understand.”
“I don’t. They claimed it wasn’t them. The queen of the city seems pretty disengaged. And Desmond seems more interested in gaining wealth and power than bloodshed.”
“Young man, those monsters murdered people. Before the old vampire who calls himself Henry Hastings threatened them, Lottie and her clutch terrorized this city. Even if they have followed the sheriff’s orders, they are still killers.”
I sighed. “Father, it’s not as easy as that. I have seen real evil. A lot of it. If the vampires here aren’t actively killing people, and if they haven’t for a generation, then I have bigger threats to worry about. Their threat seems contained.”
“God’s wrath knows no timetable, young man. Joseph may be a little hotheaded, but he’s not misguided. They are not our allies. They are the enemy. Someone is killing young men. Your vampire sheriff may have provided a brief respite in Chicago, but if all those men are dead? What good has it done?”
I wanted to argue with him, but he made a lot of sense. “I’m sorry, Father. I can’t stop trying to find those men, and I need the sheriff’s help for that.”
Burzynski shook his head. “Joseph won’t be happy.”
“I don’t care. Finding those men is now my problem. If they’re dead, then dealing with their killer is also my problem. Tell your pet nutcase to stay out of my way.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Then what use are you, Father? Tell me that. What use are you?”
* * *
After an awkward silence, Burzynski left me pacing in the miserable heat by the church’s side door. Henry finally came rolling up in his Suburban, and I climbed into the back.
“Are you okay?” Callie asked from the front seat.
“Not bad. Why?”
“Your nose is swollen, and your face is puffy.”
“I’m fine. What happened to you two?”
“Garski trapped me,” Henry said.
“Witchcraft?”
Henry nodded. “He’s no dummy.”
“How about you?” I said to Callie.
She rubbed her jaw. �
�He knocked me out, but I’ll be fine.”
A sudden desire to put a bullet in Garski’s head rushed over me so strongly that for a moment I literally saw red.
I was fumbling for the door when Callie asked loudly, “Sam?”
“I’ll kill him,” I muttered. “I’ll kill the nutcase and the priest. I’ll kill anybody that gets in my way—”
“Sam,” Henry said firmly.
A wave of power radiated from Henry, and my anger slipped away. “He could have seriously hurt Callie. She could have a concussion. Or worse! She—”
“She’ll be fine,” Henry said quietly. “She was just shaken.”
“But—”
“I’m fine,” Callie said. “What did Garski do to you?”
I bit my lip. “Let’s get out of here before I do something I’ll regret.”
* * *
As Henry drove, I relayed my conversation with Garski and Burzynski. Callie sat quietly for a moment and then said, “They know an awful lot about us.”
“Yeah, but how?”
The streets were now covered in shadows, and even though it was midafternoon, the sun was only visible between gaps in the tall buildings. The streets were packed with heavy traffic, but Henry drove the Suburban as if he had some supernatural sense that allowed him to find the perfect spot in each lane.
Who knows? Maybe he does.
“You two been telling anybody your business?” Henry asked as the big Suburban glided through the afternoon traffic.
“Who would we tell?” I asked.
Callie’s face tightened, and she turned back to face the front.
“Callie?” I asked.
“I think maybe…”
“Callie?”
“I think maybe the Order has something to do with that.”
“The Order? You mean Sister Beulah?”
Sister Beulah was a hard-ass nun we had met at the diocese in Peoria, Illinois, where she had kept a watchful eye on Father Edmund Lewinheim. Sister Beulah and Callie both belonged to the Order of the Sacred Cross, a secretive group of nuns and sisters devoted to helping the Catholic Church fight vampires and protecting the priests who encountered them. “The last time we saw her, she said she was finished.”
“She was finished with that assignment. Safeguarding Father Lewinheim ended when he died. She moved on to her next.”
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