The Bewitched Box Set

by W. J. May

  Tony knew about Thomas’s attack by a group of vampires a few months prior in the Mission District, and knew neither he nor Jonathan liked to talk about it.

  “So, when are you guys due for your next dose?” Tony asked, tapping his fingers against the car’s open window frame.

  A very elite group simply called “Immortals” made up the police of the supernatural world. This group was gifted an elixir made by the sylphs, who were comprised of ten Queens from around the world. The Queen of the Western United States, named Malina, was in charge of administering a dose of this elixir, aptly named “Enchantment” to the Immortals every five years, which kept them immortal. Along with their immortality, they each received one special gift. Jonathan possessed extreme strength, but Tony claimed to have never realized his gift. Jonathan thought it might be mind-reading, but he didn’t want to reveal it. Thomas had yet to discover his, as he had only become an Immortal a few months ago.

  “Oh, shit, check it out,” Tony said, pointing at the small blue house.

  The men turned their attention to three individuals leaving the house. They began walking down the narrow street, looking around. There were two males and one female. They were in black clothing and the woman was barely recognizable as female, but the Immortals all had good eyesight.

  “I guess we’re going on foot,” Jonathan said, motioning them to get out of the car.

  Thomas and Tony also exited the car and began following the vampires. A light mask of fog had settled in as the night drew on, and it blanketed the sidewalk, offering the Immortals extra protection.

  The vampires walked about six blocks when they came to a small pub and wandered inside. The Immortals followed.

  “This is the pub they found the dead body behind,” Tony said, looking around.

  McGuire’s Pub was dimly lit but was very crowded. Loose women and nondescript men groped each other in the dark recesses of the bar and the bartender stayed busy, pouring shots of amber liquid into small, heavy-looking glasses.

  “What can I get you boys?” the bartender asked. He was a short, chubby man who was clearly on the wrong side of fifty and didn’t look like he cared about anything.

  “Scotch, neat, three of them,” Jonathan answered, pulling a roll of bills from his pocket.

  “I really don’t –” Thomas began.

  Jonathan cut him off. “You’re drinking.”

  Thomas swallowed hard and simply nodded.

  The three Immortals pounded back their shots, keeping their eyes on the vampires.

  The female vampire had already sidled herself up to an unsuspecting human male, rubbing her red fingernails down his white dress shirt while pressing her lips to his ear, whispering God knows what. The other two vampires were talking to two other men, as the other women in the bar seemed to be preoccupied.

  Thomas nudged Jonathan. “Look.”

  Jonathan and Tony followed his line of sight to the female vampire leading the human man by his tie out the back door.

  Jonathan held up a hand. “I got this. You two stay here and keep an eye on the other two bloodsuckers.”

  Tony and Thomas nodded.

  Jonathan followed the couple at a safe distance, and when she led the poor, unsuspecting man out the back alley, Jonathan went out after them, trying hard to be inconspicuous, but at six-four, it wasn’t that easy. He pushed his large body flat against the wall behind a dumpster and removed the derby from his head. He heard moans and groans as the couple began kissing, and as Jonathan peered around the dumpster, he watched for about a minute until when he saw the vampire’s eyes go black. She reared her head back and sank her fangs into the man’s neck with a moan.

  The man gasped, then began pounding his fists uselessly against her shoulders, but with her extreme strength, she him held firm. Jonathan raced over and grabbed her by her mop of curly brown hair, yanking her off the man.

  “What the...?” she began in protest.

  The human slumped unconscious against the wall as Jonathan picked up the vampire and threw her down the alley, where she went sliding on her back. Before she could get up, Jonathan was on her, pinning her down on the ground. A trail of blood was running down the side of her mouth, and as she was pinned down with Jonathan’s large body straddling her, she looked up at him and smiled.

  “You want some of this, big boy?” she asked.

  He punched her in the face and she howled in pain.

  Now, Jonathan Murphy was normally a gentleman, but he knew vampires weren’t really women and had no qualms about hitting this creature.

  “You dick!” she howled.

  He pulled a Colt .38 pistol from the waistband of his suit and aimed it at her heart.

  The vampire laughed at him as she wiped more blood from her mouth. “Gonna shoot me, are ya?”

  Jonathan thought he detected a slight accent and said, “What’s your name?” He cocked the pistol with his thumb.

  She spit in his face. “Piss off!”

  He punched her again.

  “Stop doing that!”

  “Listen, little vampire, I can hit much, much harder than that. I’ve been holding back. Tell me your name and how old you are and I may not break your nose and jaw next time. You may just do some jail time on the island. Otherwise, the council won’t need to know how you and your leech friends have been violating the Treaty.”

  “Piss. Off. Copper.”

  He sighed. “I, Jonathan Murphy, declare you guilty of the act of Treason against the Treaty of the Zie.”

  Her eyes got big as Jonathan pulled the trigger three times. The vampire screeched an unearthly howl that spilt open the silent night. Jonathan jumped up, smoking pistol in his hand and watched as her body turned brown, then gray, then dissolved into dust, leaving only clothing behind.

  Just then, Tony and Thomas came running out, having heard the gunshots, and looked at Jonathan with wide eyes, smoking gun in his right hand, and a huge smile on his face.

  He looked up at his colleagues. “Remind me to bring stakes next time.”

  * * *

  Chapter 4

  Tony parked his Chevy into the parking lot behind the Hyde Street Bank Building and made his way up to the sixth floor, exiting the squeaky elevator and passed by the Justice Department’s newly leased offices, making his way down the hall to Murphy Architecture.

  The Justice Department had moved into the new building a couple weeks’ prior, and Anthony was more than happy to leave behind the small, squat brick building they had formerly called home.

  He knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” he heard a voice say.

  He turned the squealing brass doorknob and saw both Jonathan and Thomas sitting at desks with blueprints spread out before them.

  Thomas looked up and smiled. “Agent Bianchi, how are you?”

  “Fine, Tom. How about yourself?” he asked, removing his hat and smoothing down his thick, black hair.

  “What brings you here?” Jonathan asked, placing a pencil behind his ear and sipping a large mug of coffee.

  “I wanted to let you know that I’m pretty sure the two vampires we apprehended in the bar a few weeks ago were the ones responsible for the deaths in the city.”

  Jonathan cocked his head to the side. “Well, it was most likely the girl, but she won’t be a problem anymore.” He smiled.

  “Yes, but there have been no more suspicious deaths. Let’s hope some island therapy helps,” Tony finished.

  The sylphs, the Fae of the air, resided on the Island of Nymph in the Gulf of Mexico where they kept a cluster of jail cells for both detainment and punishment purposes. The sylphs used air portals to travel, and as Jonathan, Thomas, and Anthony had detained the two remaining vampires that night, they had summoned the Queen of their district to portal the prisoners back to the island.

  “All’s quiet on the supernatural front,” Tony said, grinning.

  “Good to hear,” Jonathan replied. “But they won’t stay that way for long.”
>
  Thomas looked confused. “Why’s that, boss?”

  “Oh, the supes can’t stay hidden. They always screw up, and when they do, we’ll get them.”

  Tony smiled. “That’s right.”

  “So what did you tell the Justice Department?” Jonathan asked, suddenly curious.

  “The truth, mostly. We were hanging out, having some drinks, and vampires came in and I shot one and killed it as it fed on a human. Then when the other two showed up, I warned them to leave San Francisco and they did.”

  Jonathan chuckled. “You shot her?”

  “How else was I going to explain it? They can’t know about us at all. Agreed?”

  Jonathan nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Well, I better get to work. I have a date tonight with a hot blonde babe.” He winked.

  Jonathan raised an eyebrow, and Thomas looked at him.

  Tony again grinned wickedly and closed the door as he left.

  ∞∞∞

  Adam Swift and Tony Bianchi walked through the front door of the San Francisco Police Department’s interrogation block. They were greeted by the BSI’s department liaison, Richard Johnson.

  “How’s it hangin’, boys?” Richard asked, slapping Adam on the shoulder.

  Adam smiled and used his smoldering cigarette to point to Tony. “Richard, this is our newest agent to the San Francisco field division, Special Agent Anthony Bianchi.”

  Tony put his hand out and Richard pumped it up and down. “Nice to meet you, Anthony.”

  “Call me Tony, please.”

  Richard nodded.

  “Can I call you Dick?” Tony asked with a slight smirk.

  Richard shook his head and narrowed his eyes at Tony. “Not if you expect me to answer.”

  Tony laughed. “Okay.”

  “Right this way. We’ve got him in room three,” Richard said, leading the way down a sterile-looking hallway with white floors and walls, and gray doors lining its corridor.

  Tony and Adam followed. Adam blew a stream of smoke out of his nostrils and Tony winced as it passed under his sensitive nose.

  As they approached door three, Detective Johnson opened it with a key attached to his belt and ushered them in with a flourish.

  They walked into the room and saw the lone man sitting at a plain white table. A single bulb hung from a chain suspended above the table and it swung slightly.

  Adam looked at the man. He was a thin, pale man, his dark hair was slicked back, his eyes blue and bright, but bloodshot. His hand wobbled as he tapped a cigarette onto an ashtray, the only item on the large white table. He put the cigarette up to his lips with a shaky hand and glared at the two BSI agents and one detective as they walked in.

  “Mind if we sit?” Tony asked the man.

  He gave a curt nod and continued to stare at them.

  “Edward Newman, correct?” Adam said, setting a thin manila envelope down on the clunky table and opening it. He set his cigarette in the ashtray.

  “Yeah, call me Eddie,” the man answered.

  Tony sat next to Adam and just listened.

  “Very well. I’m Special Agent Adam Swift, and this is Special Agent Anthony Bianchi, we’re with the Justice Department. And this is Detective Richard Johnson with the SFPD.”

  Edward nodded, but said nothing.

  “So, tell us about your time in the war, Eddie,” Adam said.

  Edward blew out a breath. “Well, I was going to college when I got drafted,” he began. “I didn’t want to go, but you know, I was of age and all that. I was only nineteen so I guess they needed men and I had to go.”

  “Go on,” Tony said, making notes on a small notepad he’d produced from his suit jacket.

  “Well, I mean, what can I say about war? It’s ugly. I wish I’d never gone, but it’s not like I had much of a choice.” He pulled the cigarette up and took another long drag from it, the nicotine seeming to calm him.

  “Did you see anything... unusual while you were in France?” Adam asked.

  Edward snorted. “I don’t think watching people get their body parts blown off would classify as normal, so unless you have all day, you’re gonna have to be more specific, Agent Swift.”

  Adam nodded. “Fair enough, let me rephrase. Did you ever see anyone get killed and come back to life?”

  “Why don’t you tell me why you’re asking me these questions and it might make it easier for me to answer.”

  “All right,” Adam began. “We need another liaison for the Justice Department here in the SFPD and we hear you’re interested in police work.”

  Edward narrowed his eyes at the agent and crushed out his cigarette in the ashtray, then leaned back and folded his arms over his skinny chest. “What has that to do, exactly, with me going to war?”

  Richard Johnson slapped his palm against the table. “Cut the bullshit, Newman! Just answer the damn questions. We ain’t got all day here, you know.”

  Edward put his hands up in surrender. “Shit, man, calm down. I just want to know why the Justice Department is so interested in what I saw while I was in the Army when I thought I was here to interview for a job as a cop.”

  Richard stared at him for a minute, then measured his words carefully. “Because I was you three years ago. Brought back from war, torn up both inside and out. Not sleeping, not eating, nerves shot. Not because of the normal horrors of war, although those were bad enough. No, it was from seeing men get shot in the chest or the head and not die, or even leave a scar for that matter. From seeing a grown man turn into an animal right before my eyes, and then watching that animal, be it a wolf, a large cat or whatever, drag my dying servicemen off to safety and then jump right back into the melee and rescue more men – as an animal.”

  Edward’s mouth was open. “I thought I’d imagined that shit, man. Thought maybe I wasn’t sleeping well or they were lacing our food with some kind of drug or something.”

  Adam shook his head. “No, son, you most certainly did not imagine those things. Those were vampires and shapeshifters you saw, and this is why you have been chosen to be a liaison between SFPD and the Justice Department. Richard here, he is our other one. He also went to war and saw the same things. Unexplained things that probably made both of you feel as if you were losing the plot. Am I right?”

  Edward nodded. His body visibly relaxed and a small smile spread across his pale face. “I can’t tell you how relieved I feel. I thought I was going crazy. I’ve been having nightmares. Vampires, you say? Like in the horror picture shows I’ve seen at the theater?”

  “The very same,” Tony answered.

  “Do they drink blood?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Richard replied.

  Edward put a hand to his mouth and looked down at the table. “One night we were camped out in a ditch. I was sharing a tent with another guy, Jack something or other. I had fallen asleep, but I woke up when I heard a moan. I looked over and saw another soldier lying on top of Jack. At first I thought they had some freaky queer thing going on, but as I had one eye open, it seemed this other soldier had his mouth to Jack’s neck. It was then I saw blood running down from his throat and pooling on the blanket under him. I remember gasping and the other soldier heard me and left the tent so fast, it looked as though he had disappeared into thin air. The next morning I chalked it up to a bad dream, but as Jack was folding up his bedding, I saw the blood on his blanket. I was horrified, man. I refused to believe what I’d seen. I had too much else to worry about. I mean, Jack didn’t have no marks on his neck or nothin’.”

  Adam Swift nodded as Tony jotted furious notes on his notepad. “Definitely vampire.”

  Edward swore under his breath.

  “I saw similar things too, man,” Richard said, tapping an ash into the communal ashtray.

  Edward pointed at it. “Can I bum a smoke?”

  Richard quickly pulled an entire pack out and slid it over to Edward. “Keep it.” He also fished a matchbook from his shirt pocket and pushed it toward Edward, who w
as already sliding one from the pack.

  Edward cupped his hand around the flame as he lit the cigarette. “So I have a question,” he said, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth.

  “Go ahead,” Tony said, trying to stifle a cough from all the bluish smoke circulating in the small room.

  “So if these... monsters have these powers – shapeshifting and eternal life, and apparently great speed and the inability to die, what in the sam-hill are they doing fighting in wars? I mean, seems they could do just about anything they want.”

  Adam nodded. “I was thinking about that too. I think some of them feel like they may owe some sort of penance to humanity. They take lives to survive, but feel if they try to save human lives in other ways, it somehow negates the killings they commit to survive.”

  “That’s right,” Tony interjected. “We captured a vampire once when I worked in the Seattle office, and he said something along those lines. He had fought in both the Civil War and the Korean War. Claimed he did it to make up for his past sins. He said he felt he could be an asset to the military with his abilities.”

  “So what happened to him?” Edward asked, intrigued.

  Tony smiled. “We verified his story, then we let him go.”

  “Why didn’t you kill him?” Edward asked.

  “We don’t kill these creatures,” Adam said. “Unless we catch them taking a human life, or of course in self-defense we can, but otherwise we do not.”

  Edward’s eyebrows went up. “So you just let them go?”

  Tony nodded. “A lot of times, they don’t kill. They drink blood or they hunt humans without killing them. We don’t know much about them, but when we capture one, we try to get information about them.”

  “Interesting,” Edward said, drumming his fingers on the tabletop.

  Tony folded his hands on the table. “So do you think you would be interested in this job? Along with your salary from the SFPD, you will receive a small salary from the DOJ as well.”

  Edward nodded. “Yes. I’m very interested in this. I’m curious to learn more about these creatures. What would I have to do?”