Black Market Blood

by Francis Gideon

  Chaz huffed. He wanted to be madder, but Sully’s smile pulled him in. And if Sully wasn’t nervous, then… maybe, for once, things were going to be okay. Artie was a myth. She was a goddess. Her underground network was more than just a name—it was a living being.

  “Aha,” Chaz called out when Sully pressed the button for the elevator. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Um. To get my book? I’ve been waiting so long for it….”

  “Nope. Sorry. You’re helping me ask these questions. It will go ten times as fast, and we can have dinner even sooner.”

  “Well, with that logic, how can I refuse?”

  After Chaz gave Sully a standard set of five prompting questions, the two parted ways. Though it tugged at Chaz’s heart as he did, he knew it would be much easier to cover ground this way. If anyone proved useful, they’d go back and interview together. They’d written the questions after hours of reading the interviews, and Sully had edited Chaz’s initial language so it came off as more copacetic to worker’s jobs and the issues they’d experienced. Chaz questioned five people before he got to one who knew Darcy. She was a trans woman and fairy named Lexie with short pink hair and a tight baby blue top. She’d met Darcy when he was taken in by the Chaos Cartel and used for blood runs. Eventually he was sold to a ring like she was and they split a room.

  “What was Darcy like?”

  “Nice. Fun. But you know, kind of wild.”

  “What do you mean wild?”

  “Well, when we met, he wasn’t even wearing patchouli. I could smell him a mile away. I could control myself because I’m half-fairy, but I told him he was going to attract the wrong person one day.”

  “Did he change after he talked to you?”

  “No. He said the cartel drowned him in chemicals so he wouldn’t smell, so he refused to change. He only did when one customer shook him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was a guy. Short. Kind of mean-looking eyes. They were really blue, like gemstones. I remember thinking they would cut me. But he was a regular bread-and-butter kind of work. You know, kind of like you.” She smiled, clearly flirting, then returned to her story. “It wasn’t much. I’ve seen some horrors and Darcy didn’t have a mark on him after this guy. But it was a week later when Darcy wouldn’t stop talking about leaving. He didn’t want to be a sinner anymore.”

  “A sinner? He said those exact words?” After the woman nodded, Chaz asked, “Was he religious?”

  “Not really. But he read about saints. He became obsessed with them after that john. It was good for us, because well, I wouldn’t have figured any of the strange markings out without him. I left on a different day than he did. I actually thought he left with the blue-eyed guy, but it turned out to be someone else.”

  Chaz nodded and wrote a few more notes down before he let Lexie go. She had confided in him that she was going to stay in the house, so if he needed more information he could come back. The other ten people he interviewed were a bust. No one mentioned any one specific gang, any one specific leader, and no one else knew Darcy or the other names from before. The closest thing Chaz got to a lead were repeated stories about a female vampire named Stacey who had once been taken to the monster hospital they’d found a week ago. Stacey had made it to Artie’s, but Chaz hadn’t found her yet.

  After interviewing the last guy, Chaz left the basement using the elevator and walked into the main foyer.

  “Hi, Chaz,” Tabby greeted him. “Do you need someone?”

  “Is Sully done with the interviews?”

  “Not yet.”

  “How about Stacey?”

  “She’s with him right now, I think.”

  Well, that answers that. Chaz was about to ask for Lexie’s room, so he could verify where her first brothel was, when his cell rang. Declan Gallagher stared back at him from his call display. He excused himself to answer, where the phone against his thick stubble reminded him he hadn’t spoken to Declan in a long time.

  “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Um. I’m working. Kind of?”

  “What does ‘kind of’ mean?” Declan’s tone was harsh, almost accusatory. “You’ve been suspended.”

  “And yet you and Jack have been calling me. What’s going on?”

  “You have evidence. We need it.”

  “The forms? I thought we were done with that case.”

  “You haven’t been outside, have you?” Declan said. When Chaz didn’t respond, Declan let out a scoff. “Well, the tabloids have been having a fucking field day. We’re fucked. Jack is furious, the police commissioner has been by, and we’re back on the case.”

  “What?”

  “The case. It’s on again. Apparently the vamp cop Ramirez killing himself after confessing in his blood isn’t enough to close. Now there are photos of the crime scene out there—oh yeah, you may have missed that—so the public’s been rattled, and we’re back to the races. More investigating the fiends. Ugh.”

  “Oh wow.” Chaz reeled with this information. He and Sully had been in their own little world for so long, trying to work the case on their own, the idea it would be reopened gave him hope even if it only seemed to cause Declan worry.

  “I know. It’s bad. So we need those files. And the translations. I assume that’s what you’ve been doing with your boy toy?”

  “What?”

  “Come on,” Declan said, his laughter bitter. “You’re fucking that guy. I know you are. Just surprises me that you bring him to crime scenes. I bet he was the one who sold the photos. You can’t be too careful nowadays. You have no idea who you’re getting into bed with.”

  Chaz made a fist. That was impossible, and he wanted to defend Sully so much, but he clamped down his anger. It wasn’t worth the fight. It wasn’t worth anything. When Declan seemed to understand that his provocation wouldn’t work, he went on.

  “Jack left you a message a little while ago. Says you’re still suspended, but we need the evidence and no one would notice if you came by. So come in and give it to us, or we’ll send an officer to get it. Do the right thing and come to work. I know you’re a good man.”

  “I will. On Monday, though. You will get the files then and only then.” Chaz hung up the phone without another word. He had to end it there, or he’d crumble. When he’d caught his breath, he listened to the message from Jack. The same details Declan just provided were there but with a nicer tone. Jack’s apology was professional but also kind.

  “Remember the werewolves? And their rabbits?” Jack asked. “That was good. I miss you.”

  Chaz folded his phone. He shut it down entirely, not wanting to deal with anyone from that unit. Reality was a like a slap to the face, and it took him several more moments to orient himself before he went back inside. Sully was sitting on the foyer couch when he did.

  “Hey,” Chaz said. “That’s a face I want to see.”

  Sully greeted Chaz with a hug. He squeezed him harder when he apparently sensed Chaz’s nerves. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, don’t worry. A lot of histrionics for me being back on the case. And tabloids leaking Reggie’s photos.”

  “I heard,” Sully said. “From my interviews. There was no photo.”

  “No?”

  Sully shook his head. “It’s a mock-up, but the details are all the stuff we gave. He was playing us. He knew nothing.”

  “Fuck.” Chaz ran his hands over his stubble, then shrugged. “Whatever. People deserve to know that information. What did you find?”

  They took a few moments to confirm details. There was no match to any cartel, gang, or anything. Not even on Artie’s orange lists, which Sully had checked over again.

  “So where does that leave us?” Chaz asked.

  “The first theory: a self-hating vamp killing vamps.”

  “Stacey?”

  “No,” Sully insisted. “Stacey didn’t do it. She was sent to that monster hospital for a pregnancy
. She was in stirrups most of the night with Braxton Hicks contractions and Fatima got her out and over to Artie’s, then went back for Darcy. Close time line, but she didn’t do it. I verified her story with several people.”

  “Wow. Okay.” Chaz nodded, trying to digest this information. “Vamps can have kids?”

  “She was turned while she was pregnant. But I don’t know. She’s staying here, not to work, but so Artie could give her medical care and see what happens. There’s a chance her kid can be born without becoming a vamp. Artie’s been doing research in that area too.”

  “Wow.” Chaz didn’t know what else to say. Since being turned, he’d thought of himself as infertile. End of the line. And maybe that was still true, but the thought of a vampire having a kid—and the kid being normal—floored him. “Will you tell me what happens?”

  “With Stacey? I won’t know. But Artie will soon enough. So let’s go see her. Have dinner?”

  Chaz nodded. He still ran his hand across his chin, nervous about the stubble. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get it over with.”

  Chapter 32

  “SO…,” CHAZ said. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but you’re a myth.”

  Artie raised her eyes. A ghost of a smile danced on her lips. She seemed more amused than offended. She set down her utensils and picked up her glass of wine. They’d only sat down ten minutes ago to a meal of curried chickpeas and wild rice, but Chaz couldn’t wait anymore. Sully sat beside him at a long table with Artie at the head. Her smile grew wider and wider until Chaz finally took a drink of his blood. His skin flushed from Sully’s taste and the feeling of all eyes in the room on him.

  “Maybe we should wait until dessert?” Sully said.

  “I don’t have any. Not a big sweet tooth,” Artie said.

  “I’m shocked. I’ll have to grab Kit Kats before I go.” Sully laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

  “I apologize,” Chaz said. “I shouldn’t have asked so soon.”

  “Nonsense. I already knew this was coming. Sully told me you saw my reflection. Or lack of it.”

  “So… it’s true? You are a myth. What one?”

  “Artemis. Artie for short.” She flashed her smile again. “My sisters are Aphrodite, Athena, and Hestia. They also run houses.”

  “The names on the forms,” Chaz said. “Heather, Didi, Anna, and you.”

  “That would be right. Well done.”

  “I figured it out after the lecture,” Sully said. “When Chaz said you had no reflection, I remembered you calling Hestia over the phone and I realized that wasn’t the Czech version of Heather’s name like I’d thought, but her actual name. She’s the goddess of the hearth. But I don’t know anything else beyond that. Certainly not the whole story.”

  “No one really does know the whole thing,” Artie said. “Our stories are always told in bits and pieces. Our pasts will never make sense the same way to anyone.”

  “How are you created?” Sully asked.

  “Not born of body,” Chaz said, “which leaves…?”

  “Desire. Most supernatural creatures manifest at a traumatic moment in their life. Trauma is rooted to bodies. It’s rooted to human physiques who spark fire or change form or conjure magic to protect themselves. When you’re upset, something very physical happens and so supernatural creatures can only come from those born of bodies. Myths are the opposite. We exist when there is desire for us. We come into physical form when we are needed and exist only for that need.”

  The present moment. No past or future, but always existing. Chaz was in awe. He’d always heard of myths being real, but this was the first time he’d seen it with his own eyes. When he told her that, Artie just shook her head.

  “I’m the first one you’ve known for sure. You’ve probably met other myths.”

  “So why here? Why now?”

  “Because all four of us were needed. There need to be four so we can make things better for the people who are hurt the most.”

  “Sex workers?” Chaz questioned.

  “Women, children, abused people. We take them out of sex work because no one else has. But we can’t do this forever. Even we get tired.”

  “Especially when you’re being targeted,” Chaz said. “We can’t find a gang connection. It’s too hard. It’s too—”

  “I know. It’s not a gang doing this to us. We have someone in charge of that. She has good sources, but even she can’t keep doing everything.”

  “So you don’t think you’re being targeted?” Chaz asked, then checked with Sully. “Are you sure?”

  “Fairly certain,” Artie said. “I believe those fleets went missing because of a vampire who hates what he’s become. Every single one had a vamp involved and all were killed by vamps. He hates what he’s become, so he’s killed those who remind him of what he sees in the mirror, because his own enemy is himself. I guarantee if you go outside my records and search in your police files, that you’ll find similar crimes.”

  “If they let me search,” Chaz said. He’d need to get all those names from Artie, but he wasn’t sure what good it would do—even if he did go back to work sooner than he expected. “Vamps aren’t exactly the most loved creatures. Everyone thinks we’re addicts. Fiends. We care about no one but ourselves. But it’s not always true.”

  “I suspect not,” Artie said. “Rumors and stereotypes are like myths. They become out of control on their own, but there is a grain of truth. You become self-hating if you don’t have good images of who you are.”

  Chaz didn’t know what to say, because that was true. His family left him because he’d been turned into a vamp, and not knowing how to be one, he turned into something awful. Divine Interventions was supposed to teach him how to be a proper vamp so he didn’t harm someone, but it only made him hate himself more.

  “You’re not like that now, though,” Artie said. “You’ve learned something better.”

  “From Nat,” Chaz said quietly. Nat had loved him in spite of his flaws, but even that Chaz had fucked up by handing him over. Because I thought that’s what love meant. Love meant betrayal. It was the only way he’d ever seen it from his parents to Vanessa—love always meant something far worse.

  “Pardon? What did you say, dear?” Artie asked. Only Sully seemed to hear Chaz’s response, and he shook his head at Artie, waving off the concern.

  “So what is the end goal with this?” Sully said, jumping in. “I know you’re working to get people free, but you said you’re getting tired. So what do you do next?”

  “We’ve been working together for years with one end goal: legalize sex work.”

  “What?”

  “When supernaturals or humans exist in a job that’s illegal, it makes them vulnerable. It puts them in unfortunate situations and it creates a high demand for a dangerous product. People want this product already, but it becomes dirty and shameful and unsafe when there are no regulations. It criminalizes people involved in it, instead of helping them. If we legalize sex work, we get regulations. We get screenings. We get all the things that we have now at this house but without shame in the public’s eye.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Chaz said. “Even if it’s legal, there will still be kids who are forced.”

  “Yes. That has been a constant from the beginning of time. If we have laws, then we can safely stop it and prosecute it. Everyone gets to be a person under the law—supernaturals included. If we change how we define the category of victim and put measures in place to legalize sex work, then we can have a better system for making sure those who are victims aren’t exploited and those who abuse people are put away. Once one law has been changed, the precedent has been set. It’s a big goal, but we’ve been working on it for years.”

  Chaz considered this for a long, long time. He took a sip of the blood. “Maybe this could work. I’m still unsure I understand it all.”

  “Me too,” Sully said. “How do the others fall into this? What do your sisters do?”

&n
bsp; “Well, Aphrodite has been experimenting for years with birth control and how to properly set up boundaries. Most of our procedures here are policies written by her. Hestia made the passageways that people follow to safe houses; she also built and designed our current houses so each room is safe. Anna, or Athena, is the main person with law-making capabilities. She’s working on setting up the proper scope—and really, she’s the final piece in this.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m the science side. The research side. Each person who comes in, I get their story. I figure out all the sex-traffic rings, and I take their blood.”

  “What is the blood for?”

  “I’ve also been studying diseases. I make sure the women and men are safe when they come through and try to track down all the possible infections they can get. I also can tell their origin point. When an elemental or witch manifests, it shows up on their blood. Same with werewolves and vampires. All creatures who interact with them and form blood-to-blood contact also show up.”

  “It does?”

  “Yes. The black-market blood that’s shifted from place to place always leaves a trail of where it first began. It’s a biological map the same way DNA is, but we’ve been using each unique strand to trace where the gangs are, how they run their own shipments, and how supernatural creatures are trafficked. That’s another reason why I know we’re not being targeted by these gangs: my research doesn’t support it. But I suspect your killer has been trying to do the same with his blood.”

  “What?” Chaz asked. “He’s been performing science experiments?”

  “Not so much. But I think, if he hates being a vampire, he’d been doing some soul searching. Chances are he knows who infected him. I suspect he’s killed him or her already. But from there, he’s been taking it out on all vampires since they represent the first one.”

  “Recreate the scene of the crime,” Sully said. “Erase pain through reenactment. It’s the oldest psychological healing method in the world.”