by M. D. Massey
Eleven
“Uhhh… ow, that hurts.” I cracked an eye open, and was thankfully met with darkness and not light. Even my eyelids hurt, and I suspected sunlight would only make my pounding headache worse.
“Hey, look who’s back in the land of the living!”
That was Click’s voice, coming from somewhere nearby. I sat up, much too quickly in fact, my gut churning like the Drake Passage. I turned to the side and expelled the contents of my stomach all over the lawn. Based on what I hurled, it was entirely possible that I’d slammed a couple quarts of dirty motor oil before I’d blacked out.
Nope, not motor oil. My vomit smelled like musk and old, rotten fish guts. I took a whiff full in the face, triggering an extended dry-heaving session. A few minutes later, my body decided that I’d purged as much as humanly possible, and thankfully my roiling stomach calmed enough to allow me the power of speech again.
“Oh man,” I said as I wiped my mouth on the bare skin of my arm. “I feel better.”
Click squatted down next to me, carefully avoiding the puddle of blackish sludge I’d hurled out on the grass. “Well, you ought to feel better. You must’ve had at least a pint of god blood in you, and that’s potent stuff. Probably why you’re still alive though, after that thing inside your skull gave you an aneurism—not to mention the serpent’s venom. I s’pose it’s a good thing you kept all that gunk down as long as you did.”
I looked down at my shredded clothes and bedraggled appearance. I was covered in more of the black, tarry stuff I’d vomited, and my skin was bruised and purple all around my torso. I glanced around to get my bearings but drew a blank. Then I noticed the giant headless serpent on the lawn nearby.
“Click, why is there a ginormous dead snake over there?”
“Don’t remember a thing, do you? Well, some haliwr—that’s wanker, to you—wanted to off your friend, the one that heads up the local fampir clan. Turns out the fellow was cheating, and had you not noticed I’d have made some serious coin. But you did, and then you took offense, and after that you killed an avatar of a Mayan deity that was helping the wanker cheat. That’s it over there—what’s left of it, anyway. I think that about covers it.”
“Ah. And the headache?” I asked.
“Are you daft, or did you suffer permanent brain damage? I just told you not two minutes ago, that thing inside your skull burst a blood vessel in your head.”
“Right.” I paused as the nausea started coming back. I managed to belch a little, and thankfully it went away. “Um, just why did the Eye try to kill me?”
Click threw his hands up in the air. “Well, isn’t it obvious? It’s because you went all Fomorian to kill the serpent, and then you wanted to kill everything else in sight. T’was quite a glorious display of unbridled rage, it was, but a bit unnerving for the guests. You should really speak with a professional about your anger issues. They have drugs for that sort of thing, you know.”
I rubbed my head, thankful that the headache was subsiding slightly. “I’m quite familiar with the modern field of psychopharmacology, believe me.” I looked around, again drawing a blank on my surroundings. “Where are we, by the way?”
“Back garden of some vampire who goes by Mateo. Old one, not as old as your friend though. He won, by the way—Luther, that is.”
I heaved a sigh of relief. “Finally, some good news.”
“Cost me a wad of gold, but I made it up by betting against the Mayan snake. Although I was rather surprised at how eager you were to dispatch him, considering that you’re a snake person and all.” He paused, rubbing his chin and squinting at me. “Still haven’t figured out where the vorarephilia comes from.”
“What? Never mind, I don’t want to know. Where’s Luther?”
Click tilted his head in the direction of the house. “In there, but Mateo said you weren’t to enter his house until you’d hosed off and changed.”
“Ah. I think it’s all coming back to me now.”
“Then I guess you’ll be needing this again.” He tossed me my Craneskin Bag, looking at it like a pawn broker eyeing a fake Rolex. “Oh yeah? Well screw you too, ya flea-bitten crap basket.”
I wasn’t quite ready to ask Click why he was talking to my Bag, so I stood and pointed at the rear of the house, ignoring his outburst. “I’m, uh, going to go clean up.”
Click crossed his arms as he turned his nose up at my Bag. “Then if you don’t mind, take that moth-eaten haversack with you. Damned thing’s been insulting me since you started your fight with the serpent.”
“Right,” I said, sagely deciding to save that discussion for another day. I shouldered the Bag and headed to the back of the house. It took me a good fifteen minutes to get all the dried serpent blood out of my hair. On the plus side, once I’d toweled off and brushed it out, my hair felt incredibly lush and silky. Clairol, eat your heart out.
When I walked back around the side of the house the serpent was still there, but Click was gone. Just as well—trouble seems to follow him like a bad smell. I knocked on the kitchen door, waiting patiently until a very pale-faced Charmaine answered.
“Uh, hi. Are Mateo and Luther inside?” She nodded, tight-lipped and avoiding eye contact. “Then, may I come in?”
Another nod.
“Right. If you’ll excuse me?”
I smiled at her as I walked past, but she was having none of it. That happened a lot when people saw my other side. I’d thought I still had it under control, but as the evening’s events had demonstrated, that was far from the case.
And just what am I going to do about that little problem? I wondered. But that was trouble for another time. Right now, I was more concerned with discovering how and why I’d been manipulated into taking out Luther’s trash.
As I entered the living room, Mateo and Luther were laughing and drinking wine as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Luther looked none the worse for wear, freshly dressed and cleaned up. By the way they were joking, you’d have thought there wasn’t a dead Mayan deity on the lawn out back.
Mateo announced me as I walked in. “Ah, our hero returns from the land of slumber!”
I was more than a little cross, what with being kept in the dark about the whole situation until the very last minute. I ignored Mateo’s ebullient welcome, instead opting to plop down on the couch and brood.
“I told you he’d come through for us,” Luther said to Mateo before turning to look at me. “Oh, stop pouting—it simply does not become you.”
“Shit, Luther—wouldn’t you be pissed if you were in my shoes? Your girl told me to show up, and that was all. And while she did say to come armed, she didn’t mention that I’d be fighting a giant snake.”
“Oh, but I do throw the best parties,” Mateo interjected, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “The coven will be talking about this one for ages.”
“I’m so glad I could be the evening’s entertainment,” I huffed.
Luther gave me a chiding look. “Colin, I asked for you because I don’t trust any other human—at least none who are local to Austin, that is. We’ve been friends for a while now, have we not?” I nodded while attempting to look disagreeable as he continued. “Then correct me if I’m mistaken, but I believe the way friendship works is when a friend calls, you come. And vice versa.”
“Well when you put it that way—”
“You feel like a heel for bitching and complaining?” Mateo asked.
I sighed. “A little. But you have to understand, I’m a bit touchy about having my chain yanked. I only just extracted myself from Maeve’s machinations, you know.”
Mateo snorted. “As if. When that old bitty gets her claws in someone, she hangs on for dear life. Sorry to inform you, but if you ask me she’s far from through with you.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Anyway, you can see why I’m miffed about being used as a tool by you two.”
Luther bristled. “First off, we had no idea it’d be that bad. I just figured you’d spot him cheating, call
him out, and that would be that. I never expected things to escalate—and for that, I am sorry.”
I certainly couldn’t argue with that explanation. It wasn’t like Luther could have known Cornelius had made a deal with Kulkulkan. I mulled it over for a few seconds and decided that the Luther I knew wouldn’t intentionally place me in harm’s way.
“Apology accepted, Luther. You know I have your back.”
“I do.” He looked me over quickly, like a physician examining a patient. “All things considered, you seem to be in one piece—a bit green around the gills, but otherwise intact. When you collapsed we were ready to call Finnegas, but a disembodied voice insisted that you’d be fine, so long as no one pumped your stomach.”
My face flushed as I suddenly remembered Luther had seen me in all my Fomorian glory for the very first time. “Ah, yeah—about that…”
Luther waved my concerns away. “Pish-posh, I’ve seen weirder things in my time, disembodied voices notwithstanding. You know, it’s rare that I can hear but not smell someone, even that fae illusionist who was here earlier. I take it Mr. Disembodied Voice is a friend of yours?”
“More like a business associate,” I said.
Luther took a sip of wine, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Perhaps you can tell me about him some other time. For now, know that you have my eternal gratitude for executing your duties as referee in a most admirable fashion.”
Mateo frowned slightly. “I’ll admit I had my doubts, but my oh my… you certainly live up to your hype, druid.”
I’d never been good at taking compliments, so by way of deflection I grabbed their wine, dispensing with the need for a glass by drinking straight out of the bottle.
Mateo sighed as he fixed me with a look of displeasure. “That’s a ’90 Chambertin Grand Cru. I do hope you enjoy it.”
I held the bottle up, examining the label. “Not bad, for an expired bottle of vino. A little too fruity for my tastes, though.”
“You don’t say,” Mateo deadpanned.
I took another swig. “So you two knew Cornelius was up to no good? Why didn’t you tip me off that he’d be using magic to cheat?”
Luther gave the room a lazy sweep of his hand. “Lots of sharp ears around earlier. If we’d said anything word would have gotten back to Cornelius, and he’d never have shown.”
“Which would have been a shame,” Mateo replied.
“I’ll say. It was high time I scraped that piece of shit from my shoe,” Luther said. He looked at me and raised his glass. “Thanks again, for that.”
“Ah, don’t mention it.” All their gratitude was making me uncomfortable. I suddenly remembered why I’d tracked Luther down in the first place, and saw a means of extricating myself from the conversation. “By the way, there was something I wanted to discuss with you.”
“Hmm, about the murders I take it?” he asked after a sip of wine. I nodded. “Check the security footage.”
I scratched my forehead, confused. “What security footage?”
Luther smiled. “The security footage from the system your uncle had installed, after he kept having nightmares about being attacked by ninjas in his place of business. I have it on good authority that a local security company gave him an excellent deal on the installation.”
“And that would be a security company you own, I presume?”
“Got it in one,” Mateo said. “My, but he is sharp.”
“Sharp would’ve been spotting the cameras,” Luther stated drily.
“I killed an immortal avatar tonight, so I think that gets me a pass on missing the security cameras.” Unwilling to banter with the two vamps any longer, I decided to beg off so I could hit the hay. “Shit, I’d better go. By the way, Samson says he’s getting low on coffee beans.”
Luther perked up a bit at that. “Ah, you don’t say? I’ll send him a delivery at once,” the old vampire remarked.
“I didn’t know you sold coffee beans.”
“I don’t—good heavens, boy, don’t you recognize code when you hear it?”
I pressed my palm to my forehead. “I do—I figured—never mind, it’s not worth the trouble.”
“One last word of advice,” Luther said. “Watch your back for a while, because Cornelius’ boys will be out for blood, especially after you hacked Lucius’ hand off.”
Mateo clapped silently. “Well done, on that particular point. Little prick had it coming.”
“And Cornelius?” I asked.
Luther considered the last few drops of wine in his glass. “Neutralized, but not deceased. It’s a lot harder to kill a master vampire than you might think. Also, there are councils to lobby and committees to bribe before a coven leader can take out another prominent member of our kind. So, let’s just say he’s on ice and leave it at that.”
I nodded. “And about the, uh—corpse, in the backyard?”
“Oh don’t worry, we’ll dispose of the serpent,” Mateo said. “It isn’t every day you get to fertilize your lawn with a god’s corpse. Trust me, you did me a favor by leaving that thing there. My flowerbed is going to be simply amazing next year, I’m sure of it.”
I allowed myself a few short hours of sleep, but only until Ed got to the office. He showed up at the same hour every day, so I set an alarm to wake me up in time to greet him when he arrived.
I caught my uncle just as he was huffing and puffing his way up to the office door. “Morning, Ed.”
Ed eyed me with suspicion. “You have that, ‘I need something from Uncle Ed’ look.”
“Well, I do have a favor to ask.”
“If it’s an advance on your next check, no can do. I have a big shipment of cars coming from auction, and until we flip them I’ll be running a little low on operating cash. But if it’s time off, you know you don’t have to ask me. Just make it up on Saturday.”
“Naw, it’s not that. I just need to take a look at the security footage from the other night.”
That got his attention. He stopped fumbling with his keys and leaned in, whispering in hushed tones. “How’d you know I had a security system installed? I specifically had the security company install it when no one was around—and I had them hide the cameras, too. Didn’t want any of the employees to think I was spying on them.”
“I don’t think anyone would blame you for getting a security system. Rufus and Roscoe are getting a bit long in the tooth.”
Ed blew a short puff of breath from his lips. “Still, a pair of growling and barking mutts is a pretty good deterrent.” He rubbed the scar around his wrist absentmindedly. “Naw, I’m not getting rid of the dogs. It’s just that—well, I felt like it was time to increase the security around here.”
I merely nodded in response, at a loss for words that might reassure him. According to Maureen, it would take time for Ed’s latent memories to fade.
Maureen was the one who wiped Ed’s mind, at the hospital after a fae assassin from Underhill had lopped off his hand. Ed had been rambling, and it had to be done right then. Unfortunately, Maureen didn’t have Maeve’s millennia of experience, so the job she did wasn’t exactly thorough. And even though he never mentioned it, based on his recent jumpiness and the dark circles under his eyes, I was certain Ed had been having nightmares about the incident.
Ed was silently staring into the distance, so I touched him on the arm. “Uncle Ed? The security footage?”
“What? Oh yeah, right. Come on in and I’ll pull it up.” Ed unlocked the office and I followed after, listening to him wheeze as he set his coffee thermos down and switched on the computer. “What do you need this for, anyway?”
“I’m trying to catch those punks who keep tagging the front fence.” Ed nodded once, satisfied with my explanation. “Is it on DVD or something?” I asked.
“No, nothing like that. The guy who installed it said they don’t need DVD recorders or whatever to store video now.” He made quotations marks in the air. “Everything’s stored ‘in the cloud’ these days. Hell, I don’t even kn
ow where the cloud is—you think it’s safe?”
I didn’t have the heart to tell my uncle that since 9/11, the NSA could get any information they wanted on anyone at any time, Snowden’s revelations be damned. “Safe as houses.”
Ed nodded and settled in behind his desk as the office workstation whirred to life. “Alright, let me see…” He pulled out a Post-It note with a series of instructions scrawled all over it, including a web address and login info. I watched patiently as he pecked the keys and hit enter several times, failing each time to enter the proper URL.
“Here, let me try,” I said. Ed moved and I sat down, immediately logging into the site he had written down. I quickly located the video file for the evening Elmo was killed, and sent a copy to my email. “Thanks, Ed.”
“What, you aren’t going to look at it?” he asked.
“No, I sent it to my phone so I can look at it later. I don’t want to be in your way while you’re working.”
“Damned technology—I swear we’re living in Star Trek. Back in my day we had VCRs. Let me tell you, searching for a video clip on a VCR was a pain. My buddy and I wore out the fast-forward and rewind on his parents’ VCR, watching Phoebe Cates step out of the pool over and over again.” Ed paused and a mischievous grin played across his face. “Say, this doesn’t have anything to do with your girlfriend, does it? Did you accidentally get caught on camera, chasing her around the yard in your birthday suit?”
“I’m going now,” I said, a little too loudly. “And don’t bother checking the footage—you’re not going to see anyone in the buff on there, I promise.”
Ed chuckled as I exited the office. “Whatever you say.”
If you only knew, Ed. If you only knew.
Twelve
I wasn’t worried about Ed seeing something on camera, like Elmo’s true form or the events that led to his murder. For one, fae magic had a way of screwing up modern cameras. It was nearly impossible to get a clear image of anything supernatural, unless you had tech that was charmed.