Black Market Blood

by Francis Gideon

  As he suspected, Gerrard United was one of the few churches that specialized in supernatural-civilian relations, and many of the parishioners thought that among the masses of them, some creatures had celestial properties. He started to read their interpretation on the angel mythology, before the therapy sessions listed at the bottom of the church brochure caught his attention. Alcoholics anonymous, gamblers anonymous, sex addicts, and blood addicts were all listed. The description under each therapy session was small and didn’t give too many details. Help cure your need for illicit substances! Be a better person! Sully wanted to know if the blood-addicts meeting was a group for vampires or for humans who got high off elemental blood. He was about to call on his cell and pose as the latter to see if he could get entry when a hand touched his shoulder.

  “Hey, sorry, sir. But I’m going to have to ask you to leave the area. The church therapy for the day has been canceled and we’re asking everyone to give us enough room to allow for more emergency cars to come in and out.”

  When Sully turned to see Declan, all the blood drained from his face. The brochures hit the ground before Sully could right himself. No, no, no. I can’t get arrested. I can’t…. Declan seemed as flustered as Sully was to cross paths again—especially in a crowd watching a crime scene. He stood in his standard-issue trench coat, his badge on his front pocket. Yet he didn’t turn Sully against the wall and slap cuffs on him. Instead Declan picked up the pamphlets from the ground and handed them back to Sully, averting his eyes in the process. He retrieved and clicked the lid on a small bottle of antibacterial lotion afterward and rubbed the solution on his hands.

  “Hello again,” Declan said uneasily. His cheeks tinged with pink. “You’re the Czech guy, right?”

  “I am.”

  “Did they call you in? Is there Czech here? Or were you in need of therapy?”

  “Oh, um. I was… well… I’m just looking.”

  “Nothing to be ashamed of, especially if you’re here for help.”

  “Well, I was curious about the blood group.”

  “Yeah?”

  “For a friend. Not me.”

  Declan smiled. “We’re always just looking for a friend.”

  Sully was about to ask Declan something more when the church doors banged open. Chaz sauntered out in a huff, his hair and eyes wild. He wore no shoes.

  “Oh,” Declan said. He glanced from Sully to Chaz and seemed to imagine them together in a blink. “I see.”

  Sully’s cheeks felt warm. He didn’t want this guy to know the intimate details between them—especially if those intimate details meant that Sully was now implicated in whatever crime had gone on. Why did it always feel as if people could read his skin and the marks people had made there? Sully wanted to pull the hood down over his entire body and disappear. God, we haven’t even had sex yet. We’ve done nothing.

  And Declan continued to do nothing. He didn’t question or slap cuffs on Sully for being around Chaz. Instead he walked over to Chaz, leaving Sully holding the crumbled and dirty pamphlet. Sully hid behind the paper as he listened in on what Chaz and Declan discussed.

  “Declan,” Chaz said, voice defeated. “I was just going. Sorry to disturb the scene.”

  “You didn’t. Sounds as if you may have solved the whole case for us.”

  Chaz grunted. “According to Jack, yes. May as well go home too. There’s no case at all anymore.”

  “There isn’t?” Declan’s voice raised with incredulity, but then he sighed. “Suppose it’s for the better. Not like this would have been tried. Sounds like poetic justice.”

  “Whatever.” Chaz’s heavy footsteps toward Sully made him glance up and meet his eyes. There were so many unsaid words in the lines on Chaz’s face. Sully wished he could have been by his side. Partners, partners. We’re partners now. Wordlessly, Sully shoved the pamphlet in his pocket and followed Chaz as he made his way down the sidewalk. They were barely two feet from where they stood, the church still covered with officers and Declan no doubt watching them, but Sully couldn’t stand this. The way Chaz was acting was foreign, cold. His behavior was more than just him being careful as he stepped over the pavement to not hit rocks, glass, or endless cigarette butts in his socked feet. Chaz was excluding Sully from what had just happened when all Sully wanted to do was be included. He understood being ousted from the basement in favor of keeping the body site easier to deal with, but Sully wanted Chaz to talk to him. Tom’s words about being bought still haunted him.

  “What the hell was that?” Sully asked when they were a safe distance away. “You going to tell me anything? I deserve to know. I helped you get here. I helped—”

  Chaz stopped walking and engulfed Sully in a hard kiss. He pressed him up against the church wall, away from the sidewalk and most of the people. For a brief second, Sully really thought he’d burst into flames. No way a sex worker and a vamp could even get near a place like this without something bad going on, and making out and groping just outside its door was asking God to strike them down.

  But nothing happened. Chaz’s tongue was hot and fierce next to Sully’s own, and their hips collided over and over. They pulled apart before anything more could happen. Sully was as relieved as he was hard and frustrated. He would have dropped down in front of Chaz and worshipped him like he deserved.

  “What was that?” Sully asked again, panting. “Not that I mind, but—”

  “I just… I’m sorry I left you behind.”

  “It’s okay. But what happened?”

  “A lot. Too much. Come on,” Chaz said, linking their hands. “I’ll tell you at home.”

  Chapter 29

  CHAZ’S TALK of home made Sully think of Artie. He checked his phone in the car on the way back but saw no response from her. There was a message from Tom, though, about The Night Walkers.

  A book-shaped package arrived. I opened it and… voila. My spell craft has worked again. Tom attached a photo of the first edition on Sully’s pillow. Have some fun while you’re gone. This will be here waiting for you whenever you come back. Cough, on Sunday, cough. Until then, get what else you deserve.

  Sully smiled at the message. He was happy to have his book but also bummed. The chase was over, and from Chaz’s melancholy expression, so was this case.

  When they arrived at Chaz’s place, he dropped his bag, the files, and his jacket before flopping down in the middle of the floor. Right in the front hallway. He lay down as if he’d been struck by that arrow and didn’t get up. So Sully sat down between his legs. When Chaz didn’t move, Sully traced his hands over his waist, his hips, and then over his heart.

  “Just as I suspected.”

  “What?”

  “You’re alive,” Sully said. “No stake through your heart. No blood loss. So what’s wrong?”

  Chaz didn’t answer.

  “Did you get fired?”

  “No, nothing like that,” Chaz finally answered. He propped himself up on his elbows but remained on the floor. He flinched as he seemed to replay the whole ordeal in his mind. “The police force can’t fire me. They need as many people working as they can. Jack told me as much.”

  “Don’t tell me the fight word for word. I don’t need to hear it. And I don’t want you to keep hurting yourself with it.”

  “I’m suspended, though. Can’t come back until… God, I don’t even know.”

  “That’s not so bad.”

  Chaz shrugged, morose and sullen. God, and people think I’m a downer. Sully inched closer and tried to rub Chaz’s heart again, but the joke seemed to wear thin. When Chaz remained quiet, Sully wanted some music. He didn’t have his CDs, but sections of the opera were on his phone. He brought them into a playlist and turned his phone volume up really loud. Chaz watched what he did with a curious expression, then smiled as he recognized what it was. They stayed on the floor, the phone blasting out lyrics about sinners and saints and the flowers they brought to one another’s doorsteps in order to keep the police away.

&
nbsp; “I don’t think we found the right person.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Ramirez. Maybe he was the vamp that killed those people. But someone still killed him. I don’t like how that plays out. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it doesn’t add up. In the other cases we’ve looked at, two people were killed at once. That’s hard to do. Takes someone with real skill, like a cop. But not a rookie cop.”

  “What about chemicals? Drugs?”

  “I thought about that. Maybe Patrick was delirious with sun-sickness or subdued using the special kind of bark that affects vamps, but I don’t buy it. The tox screen was inconclusive on that front since the bark tea can leave someone’s system with enough time. I talked to Katja about it. With the victim in the water too, our results are fucked.”

  “Hmm. So you’re thinking two killers?”

  “Or one who was brilliant at setting up a fall guy. I still don’t think that Fatima would have gone down that easily. She was a fighter.”

  “She would have been protecting Darcy, though. She may have tried to get in the way to save him, and paid the price for it, while Hector was a sneak attack and Patrick was delirious and couldn’t fight back.”

  “Fatima was protecting him? Because she was part of the underground system with arrows?”

  “Yeah. Fatima and Hector were both in charge of bringing Darcy and Patrick out of bad situations. They were targeted and went missing. Artie had a couple more fleets go missing but didn’t realize the pattern until I told her about the vamp. Here, come.” Sully tugged on Chaz’s hand. “Come to a different section of your floor so I can show you the labyrinth of materials I found.”

  Chaz didn’t move. Sully huffed.

  “I know you can’t work your murder case anymore. That sucks, especially if you don’t think you have the right guy. So don’t work the murder case. Work with me on figuring out these forms, because it will help outline the sex-trafficking rings that aren’t Artie’s safe passages. Then maybe you can save more people.”

  After another moment of moping, Chaz nodded and allowed Sully to lead him into the strange fort made up of the case files and medical forms written in Czech from the house. They weren’t official medical forms, but stuff that was only used in the monster hospital and research facility so they wouldn’t lose track of how many people were coming in and out, what creature they were, and what route they took.

  “Why in Czech?” Chaz asked. “That’s the one thing I’ve struggled to understand for this entire ordeal.”

  “The one? You’re lucky, then. I think… I think it has to do with Artie and her sisters. They speak a lot of languages. It’s scary how many. I always thought Greek was her first because she used to always tell me the Greek etymology of words.”

  “The bugs?”

  “No, that’s entomology. Etymology is the history of a word. Like our English word for nostalgia comes from the Greek words nostos and algos, meaning painful homecoming.”

  “Huh. I never knew that.”

  “And trauma is the Greek for wound. All wounds, even psychological trauma, heal. She told me that when I first got there. Then she gave me a bunch of books in Czech. I thought she was just being nice to me, but now I think it’s her first language. Or the one she practices the most, because it’s the language of safe passage. See?” Sully held up a form that outlined someone’s intake interview and the routes they took to get to Artie’s door. “Every single person gives directions in Czech. I know the whole forms are in Czech, but if their speech is underlined, Czech was their original language. Czech became the language on the form since it’s what they used to talk in when they didn’t want people to listen. So Artie wrote her research in it too.”

  “Huh. You keep saying research,” Chaz said after Sully explained some more forms. “What do you mean?”

  “Artie calls it that. She’s not just trying to get people out of the industry who don’t want to be there. She’s also doing experiments. Gathering data. It’s all leading to something bigger.”

  “Something bigger like what?”

  “I don’t know. She knows way more about it than me, and after I came to the house, I checked out for a while. I didn’t want to care. But now… I know it’s so much bigger than I can even fathom. I called her earlier to ask about these names that kept coming up, thinking they were part of her missing group. You recognize them?” Sully handed off the form and Chaz read them out.

  “Blake Miller, Liz Hornbacher, Matt Davis, Chandler Paz.” Chaz shook his head. “I don’t think so. They could be cold cases, though. I see… so many bodies in this line of work.”

  “It’s okay. Artie will tell us whenever she gets back to me.”

  “What about these names?” Chaz asked, pointing to Heather, Didi, and Anna.

  “The sister houses. Artie’s isn’t the only one. She’s in Toronto, where the most people come through. But there are houses all over Canada.”

  “And she’s been doing this for years?”

  “Yes. It’s huge. I don’t even think we could understand it all, even if we worked for all of your suspension.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  Sully pursed his lips, unsure if Chaz’s words meant he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—believe all of the research was true and for the greater good.

  “So many gang cases have those saint cards attached to them. But you’re telling me that they’re incidental. They belong to this system, and this is the better one. So there could be gangs out there looking for Artie, right?” Chaz said, rolling over the ideas in his mind. “People could have gotten upset with her for rescuing women and men?”

  “I suppose that’s true. Everyone’s upset when money is lost.”

  “So what if that’s it? What if we can’t connect any of these other murders because it’s not being done by one person but many? And they’re angry that Artie is taking people out of the life?”

  “It makes sense.”

  Chaz nodded along, eyes alight. His mind seemed to be turning like it had when they first discovered Reggie’s van. They were working together again. Partners, partners.

  For the next hour, they scoured the forms and made lists of names, dates, and locations. Chaz recalled what he could of the gangs in the area and how the Bloody Hearts could be a part of it, and Sully brought together what he could remember from the house he worked at for a week before following the arrows. By the time they were done, the sun had sunk lower in the sky. Sully checked his phone, but there was still no message from Artie.

  “Are you okay?” Chaz asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just waiting on Artie still.”

  “Do you think something happened to her?”

  “No,” Sully said. “She’s not one to fuck with. And I heard from Tom, so I know everything is fine.”

  Chaz nodded, accepting this answer. “Let me know when you get her again. I want to talk to her too. If she’s had run-ins with gangs, we could compare notes. And since I have no idea when I’m going back to the force, it would be a good use of my time.”

  “Sure,” Sully said. Tom’s words from before came to him. Bring him Sunday. Meet the family. Meet Momma. Sully had been nervous to bring Chaz over before. But now it seemed natural. After today, it was like they could do anything together. “You know, Tom suggested we both go over on Sunday.”

  “What’s happening on Sunday?”

  “A lot of things. A seminar for the new girls and guys about how to have safewords, codes, and watch out for bad johns. Some basic biology about creatures that will help when talking about what infections spread and how to stop them. I’ll probably have dinner with Artie too. Maybe Tom. You’re welcome to come.”

  “And question people then?”

  “Sure, but I was also thinking we could all eat dinner. I know you don’t need to, but maybe we can get you some blood. Have that with us.”

  The mention of blood seemed to make Chaz ravenous. He bit his l
ip, and Sully saw the sharp edges of his teeth. For a brief second, he wondered what they would feel like inside his body. What it would feel like to remove the blood. It would be intimate; it would have to be. And it was possible, from the stories that Chaz had told, that he didn’t have to change someone. As long as he didn’t cut his mouth at the same time. Maybe it would be possible for them to get close without Sully changing himself yet again.

  “Okay, that’s something,” Chaz said. “I can go to see Artie and everyone. I’d like to interview people who are coming in, too, because chances are, they’ve run into our gang or perp.”

  “What about reading Artie’s interviews with them? I don’t know if they’ll be up to talking with cops.”

  “Those interviews are good. Believe me, this research is impressive. But I know aspects of this case that Artie doesn’t, and what doesn’t stick out to her will stick out to me.”

  Sully didn’t answer for a while. Chaz inched closer to him, nudging him with his arm. “You can be there too. You’ll make them feel at ease. We work well together that way.”

  “I don’t know….”

  “I’ll have dinner too. Right after we’re done.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m… not sure what I’m doing, though.”

  “What do you mean? Dinner is dinner….” Sully wanted to take back the question as soon as it was out of his mouth. Chaz means as a customer or as a boyfriend. Being partners was one thing, but the lines between everything else were even blurrier than before. Do you kiss a customer against the wall of a church? Give them a knife to protect themselves? Sully didn’t know, so he focused on what he did best: an exchange. Show me yours and I’ll show you mine. Bad story for bad story, an outing for an outing, crime scene for a crime scene. He grabbed Chaz’s hand and brought their bodies close together. Their lips hovered over each other, and Sully saw how much Chaz’s pupils dilated when their gazes met. Sully wanted Chaz to kiss him, fuck him, and maybe bite him. Sully swallowed back how much he wanted those things at once and focused only on Chaz. He put his hand on his thigh and kept their lips extra close as they spoke.