Blood Conspiracy (Brooklyn Shadows Book 2)

by Brock Deskins

  “Hey, what about the hundred?”

  “I only asked if it would change your mind. I never said I would give it to you.”

  “You sonofabitch!”

  “Yep, welcome to New York, dickhead.”

  “Leonard, you did not have to be so rude to the man,” Lesile admonishes me as the cab peels away.

  “Are you seriously going to give me lessons on polite behavior? Was it polite when you broke my bones and gouged out my eyes?”

  “That’s different. It was necessary.”

  Marvin leans in. “Wait, what about breaking bones and eye-gouging?”

  “Nothing.”

  The Avenue Plaza is a nice place, and Lesile maintains a suite near the top floor. Our ragged, Bedouin appearance draws some looks, but no one bothers us as we take the elevator to Lesile’s suite. The room, with two bedrooms and a full kitchen, is nicer and bigger than any apartment I’ve rented.

  “I desperately need a shower and a change of clothes,” she says and disappears into the master bedroom.

  “Yeah, I was going to mention the smell of dog balls, but I thought it would be rude.”

  Marvin sets his gear on the living room table. “So tell me about Lesile. Are you two…?”

  “If you mean mortal enemies, yes.”

  “How can you hate something that fine?”

  “Marvin, I’ll warn you one time. Leave her alone, or she will eat you alive.”

  “That’d be a damn fine way to go.”

  “Shouldn’t you be working on deactivating the bomb in my head?”

  “Oh, right.”

  Marvin sits on the couch and starts plugging away at his computer. Feeling particularly grimy, I locate the guest bath and follow Lesile’s example. The hot water feels great, and even though I don’t sweat, washing away several layers of dirt, sand, and blood is invigorating. I only wish I had a change of clothes.

  I return to the living room wearing a hotel bathrobe. Marvin is still plucking away at the keyboard, and Lesile seems determined to use all the hot water in the entire hotel. Marvin looks up at me when I enter.

  “I think I got something.”

  “Can you turn it off?”

  “No, but I can change the frequency. It’s not quite as good as deactivating it, and they could technically set it off if they did some frequency hopping, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “Let’s just hope they don’t discover we’re not at the bottom of the ocean anytime soon and take extreme measures.”

  Lesile steps out of the bathroom scrubbing her hair with a towel as Marvin enters a few keystrokes into his laptop. “Has he made any progress?”

  “He’s changing the locks so their keys don’t work anymore. Hopefully that will keep them out, but it’s not a sure thing.”

  “Wonderful work, Marvin.”

  Marvin beams. “Ain’t nothin’ but a thang, baby doll.”

  “You are adorable. I could just eat you up.”

  “Maybe we should retire to the boudoir for some breakfast in bed.”

  “Marvin,” I warn.

  Marvin gets up, takes my elbow, and steers me to the side. “You have insulted me, assaulted me, and broken my phone. Do not cock-block me too.”

  “I’m trying to save your miserable life! She is a real life black widow—or praying mantis. Take your pick. When I say she is dangerous I mean it!”

  Marvin grins at me. “Leo, you really care about me.”

  “I occasionally find you useful.”

  “Say you care about me and I’ll back off.”

  My lip begins to twitch, and my jaw is so tight I’m about to shatter my teeth. “I care about your usefulness and don’t want you to die.”

  “Close enough. Now say you love me. Say it!”

  I shove Marvin hard enough to topple him over the couch. “Grab your shit and let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?” Lesile asks.

  “I need to go home and change. I think better in my own place.”

  Marvin glares at me as he picks himself up from the other side of the sofa. “This place is nice. Yours is a shit hole, and it doesn’t have a mini bar.”

  “It also doesn’t have enough guns and explosives to lay siege to Texas, so let’s go.”

  “Fine, but I’m clearing out the mini fridge. I know you don’t have shit to eat at your place.”

  It’s a short walk to the parking structure where Lesile keeps her car. The hotel owns the garage, and security attendants on every level keep the place immaculate and safe. I feel as if I’m walking through a giant luxury car showroom instead of a parking garage. It’s the lack of urine smell more than the pristine paint covering every surface that makes it truly classy.

  Lesile pulls out what looks like a small, wireless mouse from her pocket and presses a button. A sleek, black sedan chirps and blinks its lights in response. I snatch the key fob from her hand, shove her in the back, and secure the driver’s seat.

  “I’m driving.”

  She glares at me. “Why should you drive? It’s my car.”

  “I know where I’m going. Besides, I don’t own a car and want to drive.”

  Marvin climbs into the back seat with his gear. Lesile decides not to argue and takes the passenger seat. I look at the controls and computer screens and feel like I’m back in the cockpit of our plane.

  “What the fuck is this thing?”

  “It’s a Tesla.”

  “I feel like I’m on the bridge of the fucking Enterprise.”

  “Do you want me to drive?”

  “No, I can figure it out.” I cast my eyes around the various buttons and on-screen controls and speak with my best Patrick Stewart voice. “Car, engage.”

  Lesile sighs, leans over, and taps the large computer screen on my right. “Now just drive it like a normal car.”

  I grunt, slip the shifter into reverse, and press the “gas.” The tires give a little bark, and the car rockets backward. I crank the wheel and we spin parallel to the parking space.

  “Peppy little thing isn’t it?”

  “Be careful, Leonard, I like this car.”

  I press the accelerator a little more gently and guide the car out of the garage and onto the street. The silence coupled with the incredibly smooth suspension make me feel as if I’m floating down the road. Without the normal engine feedback, it’s hard to maintain a proper speed. I find the experience a bit creepy and long for the rumble of a powerful V8 under the hood.

  “Marvin, I need you to put your brain to work figuring out a way to get this thing out of my head.”

  “Our heads,” Lesile clarifies.

  “I’ll see what I can come up with, but without knowing exactly what kind of anti-tampering mechanisms are in place I’m not sure what I can do.”

  “Just find out everything you can, and I’ll sort through the most likely options.”

  “What are we going to do once we get to your place, Leonard?” Lesile asks.

  “First, we rearm while Marvin figures out a way to remove these bombs. I’ll have to contact the enclave and let them know what’s going on. I may have an inflated opinion of myself, but I’m smart enough to know when I need help.”

  “I’m surprised to hear you admit it.”

  “This is about more than me. This is a threat to all…mother fucker!” I brake to a stop and watch the figure in a hoodie walking across a section of Prospect Park. “How do you turn the headlights off?”

  Lesile taps on the control screen and the car goes dark. I turn the wheel, mash the accelerator, and speed through the grass. I spot the glow of a phone or music player and understand why he doesn’t notice me until I’m right on his ass. Francis looks over his shoulder and jumps straight into the air, but he’s a fraction of a second too late. He gains just enough height to make the impact truly spectacular. The bumper catches his ankle at almost eighty miles an hour, bumps his head off the top of the windshield where it meets the roof, and catapults him at least twenty feet in the
air.

  I slam on the brakes, spin the car sideways, and leap out of the door before it comes to a stop. I’m sprinting toward him almost before he hits the ground. Francis staggers to his feet just in time to give me a clean shot at his neck. My blade seeks home at a dead run and launches his decapitated head back into the air.

  “Gotcha, bitch!”

  Marvin and Lesile jump out of the car and run toward me. “Leonard, look what you did to my car!”

  Marvin looks at Lesile incredulously. “Bitch, fuck your car! Look what he did to that nigga’s head! Oh man, you know every brother in a five block radius just became a murder suspect.” He leans down and looks at the decapitated corpse. “Aw shit, he’s white too. You know the cops are gonna look for his killer. If he was black they’d put the third-string benchwarmer cops on it. Probably rule it a suicide.”

  “Shut up and help me put him in the trunk.”

  “I ain’t touching a dead, headless honky!”

  “You are not putting him in my trunk,” Lesile insists.

  “You want him in the backseat instead?”

  “Hell no! This ain’t Sleepy Hollow, and I ain’t Niggabod Crane. No way I’m riding with him. Nope, I’ll walk first, thank you very much.”

  Marvin does what he does best, which is exasperate the living shit out of me. “Fine, I’ll call the service.”

  “You got a fucking service for picking up dead bodies? How often do you do this that you need a service? Damn, I have never wanted to be white more in my life than right now. That’s gotta be some exclusive shit right there. You pay by the pickup or yearly like AAA?”

  “Shut up, Marvin.”

  “Oh, I see. A black man can be president but he can’t get this level of roadside assistance. I see how you are.”

  “Get back in the goddam car!”

  “Oh, yessa, I’ze get back in the car, sah. Back seat, right? Yup, way in the back.” Marvin bends down, stuffs the phone into his pocket, and gets back into the car.

  The closed car does a good job of muffling Marvin’s continual complaining. I drag the body under a bush, find the head, kick it next to the body, and order in a body pickup. Since I’m technically doing a job for Vincent, the guy on the phone doesn’t give me too much shit.

  I pull on the car’s door handle but it doesn’t open. “Marvin, unlock the door.”

  “No, you’re a psychopath!”

  “You haven’t seen me go psycho, but you will if you don’t open this door.”

  “What the fuck was all that about?”

  “It was business.”

  “How do I know you won’t do me next to get rid of witnesses?”

  I rap on the panoramic roof. “If I was going to kill you do you think the best place to hide is in the back seat of a car that is mostly glass?”

  “I wasn’t thinking clearly! I’m obviously under a great deal of stress right now. Besides, I don’t know how to drive, and I’ve seen how fast you run. No white man should be able to run that fast. It ain’t natural!”

  “How do you not know how to drive?”

  “I was born and raised in Manhattan. No one drives in Manhattan.”

  “If you don’t open this door right now, I will punch through this window, drag you out through the hole, and stuff your body next to Francis’! One body or two, it costs me the same.”

  Marvin lifts his laptop up, and his finger hovers over the keyboard. “Bitch, I got the button! You so much as flinch and I’ll turn your brain to pudding!”

  I reach for my pistol and turn to Lesile. “You distract him, and I’ll put one in his brainstem.”

  “Leonard, relax. He’s just scared. Try to reason with him.”

  I clench and release my fists several times. “Marvin, that man has killed several people. I was hired to deal with him.”

  “By who?”

  “By someone who doesn’t want people like him causing trouble. You’re working for Yuri. How many people do you think he’s put down over the years? It’s just business, business you have chosen to get involved in.”

  “Well, I don’t like this business.”

  “Tough shit, you’re in it until it’s over.”

  “You aren’t going to kill me?”

  “Not unless you keep me standing out here.”

  “Fine, but no sudden moves. I got the button.”

  “Yeah, you have the button. Now unlock the goddam doors so we can get out of here.”

  Marvin leans between the seats and points at the car’s control screen. “We’re cool, right?”

  I give him a tight-lipped smile and nod. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

  The locks release with a barely audible click, and Lesile and I get in. I spot an ambulance and patrol car cutting across the grass toward us from the north, but I’m not worried. I know it’s my recovery crew and not the real police.

  “Marvin, do you want to tell me what the fuck was with your panic attack?”

  “You ran that dude over and cut his head off! I think that warrants a little bit of panic.”

  “That was a lot of panic, and it’s not as if you haven’t seen me kill someone before.”

  “That guy was in your house and trying to cut your head off. What is with all this Highlander shit anyway? Why are you people running around with swords and cutting off heads? Is this going on all over the city, or is it just you?”

  “It’s really best if you don’t know.”

  Lesile says, “It really is, darling.”

  “You’re in on this too? Do you go around lopping off heads?”

  Lesile smiles, stares out of the window, and stays quiet.

  Marvin shakes his head and mumbles. “I have got to get me some black friends. You white people are insane, and you’re going to get me killed.”

  CHAPTER 11

  When we pull up to my loft, I’m not surprised to find Katherine’s car parked in front. I should have called her as soon as I got back, but I was distracted with other things like bombs in my head and the government set to expose us and eradicate our existence.

  I unlock and open the steel door leading inside and find myself looking down the gaping double barrels of a ten-gauge shotgun. Kat leans the shotgun against the wall and runs into my arms.

  “Where have you been, and why are you dressed like my favorite falafel vendor?”

  “It’s a long story. What are you doing here?”

  “I hadn’t heard from you for days, and after I heard Vincent went missing, I began to think something had happened. Do you know where he is?”

  “Yeah, he got wrapped up in the same mess as me. Long story short, the government found out about us and is scooping us up. That’s where I was and where Vincent is now. I need to contact the enclave and call a grand council meeting.”

  Kat’s hand flies to her mouth. “This is terrible! How did they find out?”

  “Fucking Percy left an electronic trail the NSA picked up and followed. Fortunately, it sounds like the information is on an extremely need to know, and it’s possible we can stamp out this fire before it burns us all.”

  “I’ll need to tell the pack. If they know about you they could find out about us.”

  “Meat already knows and should be gathering them up now. If we’re going to quash this before it becomes public knowledge, it will probably take a joint strike force. We have the numbers to make a decisive attack. The biggest problem is finding them and taking them out before they can pass on any information outside their cell.”

  “Do you have any idea where they’re at?”

  “I have a few clues but nothing to give me more than a general direction. I need to talk to Marvin and get him back on track. He’s a bit off his game after I caught Francis strolling through Prospect Park.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t pretty.”

  Katherine looks over at Lesile. “Speaking of pretty, who’s your friend?”

  “That is Lesile.”

  Kat glares and reaches for t
he shotgun. “Really?”

  Lesile perks up at hearing her name and smiles. “I see Leonard has mentioned me.”

  “He told me how you turned and tortured him.”

  “Yes, that was an unusual time for me. Besides, he left me little choice. You know how he is. Had I not taken drastic measures to prepare him for the life I gave him, he would never have survived. He does not play well with others.”

  “But you tortured him.”

  “I made him strong. Had I not, someone would have killed him long ago. It is because of me he is here with you.

  “You don’t seem like the monster he described you as.”

  “Anger creates more monsters in our memories than anything else. Tell me, how did you manage to get past his awful exterior and find the tiny bit inside him that is tolerable?”

  Katherine smiles and shakes her head. “It wasn’t easy.”

  “Come sit with me. I would love to hear about it. Leonard has always been my most difficult and interesting convert.”

  I look over and see my nemesis and my girlfriend clucking away. “Don’t get too close, Kat. I plan on killing her when it’s convenient.”

  The two women look at me, giggle, and lean in to continue what I assume is a detailed exchange regarding my many flaws. Knowing I could not possibly improve the conversation by participating, I decide that even talking with Marvin would be less stressful and a great deal more productive.

  “Marvin, let’s talk about getting this thing out of my head.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. You’d probably be better off talking to my father about brain surgery.”

  “The surgery isn’t the hard part. Getting it out without it going off is.”

  “Aren’t you the bomb expert? I thought you blew shit up all the time?”

  Marvin has been strangely quiet since the park. He didn’t even ask to stop for pizza on the way back, so I know he’s bothered. I forget that what is a typical day at the office for me can be disturbing to others.

  “Marvin, that guy murdered numerous people over the past year or more. You know the cops can’t always catch the bad guy. When they can’t, people call me. That’s all that was. I need your help. Can I count on you?”