That was perfect.
I had kind of felt bad for leading her astray, and for lying on behalf of my crew, but it was for the greater good. Or at least I assumed it was. Since the Directors hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with assistance over the last year, I had no clue what was really going on behind all these ubers…and now amalgamites.
So, for now anyway, Lydia and the Directors had to be kept as much in the dark as possible.
Speaking of which…
“Are the Directors waiting for me?” I asked, not really wanting to know. “I’m assuming you told them of our predicament?”
“I report everything to them, pumpkin,” she replied, possibly giving away more information than necessary. No, Lydia wasn’t capable of making mistakes like us. Everything she said or did had data behind it. She may do something wrong, but it was never a mistake. “They asked to see you the moment you returned.”
I sighed and looked at the door that sat at the back of my office. The last thing I wanted to do was waste time talking with four dudes who weren’t going to help me out of this jam anyway. Plus, I had no idea what I was going to tell them at this point. I doubted leading with, “Hey, guys, guess what? I’ve got brothers and they appear to be bad guys!” would go over very well.
“Do they know I’m back?” I asked Lydia with some hesitation.
“Not yet, lover,” she answered. “I always give you some time before letting them know you’ve arrived. You seem to appreciate it when I do that.”
“I totally do, you digital deviant.”
She giggled mechanically.
“I love that nickname.”
“That’s only because it’s fitting,” I said, oiling the gears a little more. “Listen, babe,” I added, “would you be willing to not tell them I’ve arrived yet?”
There was a small delay. “Why would I do that, honey?”
“It’s just that I don’t have anything to tell them right now, and I hate going in there empty-handed.”
I glanced down and noted the review forms for my team were sitting in my in-box. I’d have to hook those up soon. After all the help the gang gave me with the valkyries, it’d be a breeze.
“How much time do you need?” she asked, leaving off the flirting.
“A few hours,” I responded, surprised she was even considering going along with my request. “I just want to track down the creeps that came after us. Once I find them and get a little information, I’ll jump right into that meeting.”
“It goes against protocol,” she stated, her voice sounding more pedantic by the second. “I am not supposed to do things against protocol.”
Lydia was a product of her programming, yes, but she was also a lady…sort of. Her core code identified her as such, anyway. While I was no software engineer, I was fantastic at manipulating the fairer sex, digital or otherwise.
“Good thing I like my girls to be feisty and rebellious, then,” I said slyly.
“What?”
“One of the main reasons I find you so enticing is that you know when to play by the rules and you know when to rebel,” I coaxed her. “It’s a major turn-on to be around a woman with a mind of her own.”
The use of the word ‘woman’ often made Lydia’s chip flutter. I was careful not to overuse it, but sometimes, such as this, it was the perfect word to push her over the edge in the direction I needed her to go.
Another giggle told me it’d worked.
“Do you really think I’m rebellious?”
“Most definitely, baby,” I urged, “and it’s sooo hot that you are.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, sounding like a school girl who had a crush on the captain of the football team. “I won’t tell them you’ve arrived yet, but promise me you won’t be too long.”
“I’ll do my best, you sexy mess of wires,” I answered as I bolted out of my office.
Chapter 27
My first stop was the weapons room. There were plenty of devices I could use to help protect myself, but I was more interested in setting booby traps at this point. I just didn’t know if there’d be anything in here that’d fit the bill.
Empirics were the weapon of choice. They were like little magic grenades that were roughly the size of a thin hockey puck. Beastly things, too.
Unfortunately, they required special authorization to use them.
Yes, I was the chief and so I could authorize them without a fuss, but that would bring attention I didn’t want at the moment.
That was the rub.
I’d have to enter a special code to open the lock on the box holding those little gems, which would immediately send a signal out to the Directors. I could use the skeleton key that Turbo had given me instead of the code. I just didn’t know what actually triggered the notification mechanism. If it was the code that opened the lock, Turbo’s key would be perfect. But if it was the simple act of opening the door, I’d be caught red-handed.
I couldn’t chance it.
That meant Empirics were out.
There were some premade notification runes, which might be useful. They were contained in little orbs that would magically write the rune wherever they were thrown.
I put a couple of those on the table.
The only other options were things like bullets and vests. We almost never wore vests, but we went through bullets like EQK went through curse words.
Bottom line, there just wasn’t much I could use here.
Just as I was leaving the room, though, I caught sight of the battle-gear closet. It contained full outfits for each member of the PPD. No, they weren’t classy, but they were lightweight, protective, dark, and they fit like a glove.
I opened the door and took out my uniform, making quick work of changing. The only thing I didn’t like was wearing the boots. They weren’t heavy or anything, but I was just more of a loafers kind of guy.
Once dressed, I checked myself in the mirror.
It was a good look.
I mean, it wasn’t like I was wearing a Stuart Hughes Diamond Edition suit by any stretch, and I’m sure it would look ridiculous on someone who had a little too much padding around the middle, but it fit me nicely. Even better, it would do its job in helping me sneak around.
With that thought, I backed away into one of the dark corners. I could see myself just fine because of my ability to see in dim situations, but anyone else wouldn’t even notice I was…
Damn.
If my ‘brothers’ were genuine amalgamites, they’d be able to see me in the dark as well.
Regardless, this outfit was a solid step up from the casual garb I had going, especially since I was planning to lure my prey out into the desert. I’d need to be able to run, roll, jump, dive, and so on. This suit allowed for that much better than my slacks and button-up shirt ensemble.
Another benefit was that this getup would morph along with me if I ended up having to go full wolf—something I really didn’t want to have happen.
Best of all, I didn’t care if it got dirty, bloody, or goopy.
I headed back out the door after tucking Boomy into a holster, filling my jacket with enough breaker bullets to start a small war. I left the notifications runes on the table, though. The fact was that my magic would allow me to reach out better anyway. I’d just have to focus on it.
That’s when I ran into Portman, reminding me that notification magic was more passive than active.
“Dex?” said the big man, giving me the once-over.
Portman was huge, but that went along with being a werebear. He was also one of the kindest people I knew. Rough around the edges, sure, and also gruff, but under that exterior was a heart of gold. Oh, he could be vicious when he needed to be, but in general, Portman was an all around good guy.
“Hey, Portman. What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you and the crew,” he replied, crossing his massive arms. “You guys went radio silent for a while there. Just wanted to check in to make sure everything was okay.” He ga
ve me another once-over. “You going to a costume party or something?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then?”
On the one hand, I didn’t want to let him in on my plan anymore than I had wanted to tell my direct team about it; on the other hand, if I didn’t make it back alive, there needed to be someone who could tell my team what had happened to me.
So with more than a little trepidation, I pushed past him and headed for the exit.
“Follow me and I’ll tell you.”
Chapter 28
We got out to the garage, when I realized I didn’t have my Aston Martin with me. I’d left it back at my condo before transporting down to meet my crew at the reintegration center.
There were a couple of marked vehicles I could use, but I hated driving those things. We didn’t have the cool sporty models in the PPD. Ours were those blocky-built fuckers that looked like they could have been on the set in Mayberry while Andy Griffith was still filming.
Being seen in one of those could ruin my reputation in this town. It was bad enough I didn’t even have a proper suit on.
“All right,” I said, once I felt confident we wouldn’t be overheard, but then I stopped and gave Portman a look. “Your connector is off, right?”
“Is now,” he replied.
Good thing I’d asked.
“You have to keep this to yourself,” I warned.
He nodded.
“This afternoon Rachel and I were getting it on in the shower—”
He grimaced at me and I stopped speaking.
“Is this the part where I’m supposed to take my pants down and hand you a twenty-dollar bill, Dex?”
“Ew…what?”
“You’re starting out your little story like a phone-sex operator,” he replied. “I don’t want to hear about your sex life. It’s bad enough I don’t have one of my own.”
“I thought you were married.”
“Exactly.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway,” he said, “can we move past that part of your story?”
“Right. Well, we were attacked by werewolf assassins.”
He tilted his head at me. “You were attacked by people who assassinate werewolves?”
“Huh?” I frowned at him, wondering what the hell he was talking about. Then I replayed my words over in my head and heard it too. “No, I meant they were werewolves who were hired to assassinate me and Rachel.” I chewed my lip for a moment. “I mean, I suppose they probably would assassinate other werewolves, but...”
I sighed.
“Seeing that you’re still alive, I’ll leap to the conclusion that they failed,” he mused. “Well, that and the fact that I dispatched some people to pick up bodies from your condo. A couple of them were still alive.”
“Yep.”
“Honestly, hadn’t thought much of it because you seem to get attacked at least once a month,” he noted.
“True,” I agreed. “Anyway, we got a call soon after we wiped out the wolves. Griff and Chuck were attacked, and so were Jasmine, Felicia, Serena, and Warren.”
He gave me a look. “Separately?”
“Yeah, Chuck and Griff were attacked at their condo, and the other four were attacked while at Jasmine’s place.”
“Jasmine, Felicia, Serena, and Warren all live together?” he said with a gasp. “I didn’t know that.”
“No, they don’t. They were, uh…” I trailed off.
Portman was the one who’d said he didn’t want to be informed about people’s sex lives, so I didn’t continue. Personally, I never understood what the big deal was regarding talking about it. I guess some people were more private than others. I’d bet the ones who kept everything behind closed doors were the freakiest of the bunch. Of course, maybe that’s why they didn’t want to talk about it.
“That part isn’t important,” I said, pushing forward. “The point is that they were also attacked.”
“By assassins who happened to be werewolves?”
“No, by men who appeared to amalgamites.”
His eyes went wide at that revelation.
Everyone in the supernatural community knew I was one of a kind…especially the ladies.
Sorry, couldn’t resist.
I was internationally famous because of what I was. That fame wasn’t necessarily a good thing, either. Most supers despised me because they were all into purity of their kind and such. I found that closed-minded and exceedingly ignorant, but some people had the need to feel superior to others. Funny thing was that people who were that way tended to excel at mediocrity, or worse.
“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.
Clash of Flames: An Ian Dex Supernatural Thriller Book 7 (Las Vegas Paranormal Police Department) Page 11