by Doug Burbey
"How much longer do you think our current volunteers will last?" Asked Suit One, he had office boy hair and came across as soft. The way he said volunteers made her skin crawl. Most people used that tone to refer to vomit or feces they'd just stepped in. She'd expected Chad but it wasn't him.
Probably has baby soft hands too.
Labcoat shrugged. "One of them is about done. His blood output is trailing off and I suspect he's about to die. No real reason, but just won't live anymore. We've seen this pretty consistently. Will be a shame though, as his blood is the most potent we have. The other two should be good for another two months before we need to replace them. They're still pretty fresh."
"Hmm, that might work. Rumblings are we might be moving in the next year anyhow, better facility, more volunteers." He paused and she couldn't tell what he did with his hands, but some sort of gesture that seemed more habit than functional. "Either way, we'll need a new shipment of Reset ready to go out relatively soon. The washed-up demon hunters are leaning on it pretty hard and I'd rather they not go off it until we want them to. There are plans to make it very splashy when they lose their crutch."
"Splashy? You do realize that when we flip to providing them with the straight chemical placebo it will work for about a week? Then the withdrawal will make people on PCP seem calm and logical right?" labcoat asked.
"Exactly. The amount of drama and screaming it will cause should provide the votes we need to shift people to the correct path."
"Huh. If you say so. I don’t follow politics. Just make sure to give me a heads up so I'm nowhere near when that goes down. I've got to get going. My wife is holding dinner for me. I'll have a delivery of Reset sent to the office next Monday." Labcoat waved and headed over to his car, a Lexus, and it pulled out.
The other two men stood there for a minute watching the car go.
"Is he that naïve, or does he really think he'll be alive when we close the doors on the project?" Suit Two spoke. He appeared harder, or maybe distant, like he could watch the world burn and it wouldn't occur to him to grab a bucket of water.
"Sure of his own self-importance. Why disabuse of him of that notion? But the more old hunters we get on this stuff, the prettier it will be when we switch it up. We know it will take a week and when the withdrawals hit, it will be fast and very newsworthy, but some lean on it more than others." He paused and Kayter peered harder trying to see the smaller expressions on his face, but the distance and the darkness conspired against her. "Maybe we can get them to lean on it more. Create more situations where they need to fight down the rage. I'll see what we can do. Anything else?"
"No. I have all the detonators set. We can blow the place whenever, a year, six months, tomorrow. They will respond to a code."
"And that would be?"
"Something I'll provide you when we get clearance to blow the place." If Kayter had said that, there might have been humor or teasing? This man, a flat statement.
"I always liked you. You know how to cover your own ass. See you at the office tomorrow. I'll see what I can do to replace the volunteer about to die."
They parted with that.
She lay there for another ten minutes but no one else left the building. She jumped off the top of the truck landing easily and headed for her bike. This vial of Reset, what the fuck was it? And what did it all mean? Kayter had no idea but the sinking feeling in her stomach that it all related to what the Fae had told them. And that whatever the answer was, she wouldn't like it.
Home to clean up, then Declan's. He needs to know about this.
Chapter 43 - Truth May Get You Killed
The alert of his motion sensor pulled Declan's attention away from the football game. More college crap but better than nothing. A flick of his fingers across the remote loaded the camera view on the TV screen. An image of a black bike with a slim figure on it coming slowly down his drive appeared.
Huh, guess she did listen when I told her to come see me if she found anything or needed help. She’s got mad skills and in close combat situations she’s better than anyone. Well, except Shane but I wouldn’t trust him at my back.
He stood, stretching as he headed to the door, almost glad to shut off the painful game.
Really, anyone that names their football team after a turtle deserves to have their asses kicked.
The lame joke made him smirk as he watched the Indian Chief get closer.
Definitely not burning rubber to get here so an unfriendly is unlikely, and probably don't need to start getting loaded for bear. So, beer and try to see if I can try to not make her cry. Granted, didn't do that at the last few times but I think it might have been close at HG. You aren't her dad, Declan. And no child of John Reynolds would be stupid. Act stupid occasionally, but not be stupid. Besides, she’s saved my ass once or twice already.
With that in mind, he grabbed two beers out of the fridge and took a minute to strap on his piece. Just because he kinda liked the kid didn't mean he needed to be stupid.
She pulled up to the patio which was just a flat cement pad with his grill in one corner and a clear view of about 180 degrees of the possible approaches, especially his driveway.
Declan dropped into one of his chairs, setting the extra beer on the table even as he admired the bike.
Kayter Reynolds pulled off her helmet, her long multicolored hair cascading out, looking at him and nodded. "Declan."
"Kayter. Nice bike. Not sure about that enchantment bullshit. Bit risky, don't cha think?" He took a sip of the beer, never taking his eyes off her, but he relaxed a bit as she dismounted and walked over. She picked up the beer and expertly flipped the top off and took a sip, then sinking down in the other chair and looking at the view.
"I charge it with my blood, so I don't use much. But the risk is worth it to not have it noisy as I drive, or risk running out of gas in a bad situation."
"Point. It still uses gas?"
"Yeah, I keep the tank full, just in case. You know, in case I need an accelerant, or the magic quits."
"Valid." He fell silent, waiting to see what she would do. Unfortunately, she seemed willing to sit quietly also. He admired it, though it might drive him crazy.
"I take it you didn't come out here for the beer?"
"Good beer."
"Hell yes. I'm not spending my money on crap. If I want that, I'll go down to the VFW and drink that piss water Andrew likes."
Kayter smirked. "Yeah, sounds like something Dad would have said." She looked around jerking her head back at the blocky house. "Nice place."
"Should be considering, what I spent on it. You’ve been holding your own lately. Don't think otherwise."
Her odd eyes darted over to him, the blue one grabbing his attention. Then she looked away with a half nod and Declan relaxed at the acceptance of the apology, one he’d owed her. Having to spell crap out annoyed him and she had promise.
They sat in silence until she pulled a vial out of her jacket pocket and set it on the table between them. "You see this before?"
"Hey, you got some Reset. High-quality stuff and pure even, if the color is any judge. Mine always seems to be a paler pink. Maybe watered down? Nice." He picked one up looking at it. "Though mine usually come in injection vials."
He glanced over at her and froze, the blood had drained out of her face and her eyes were dilated fully, leaving only mismatched rings around her eyes.
"You know what this is?" Her voice didn't get above a whisper and she never took her eyes away from him.
Cold coiled in the pit of his stomach and he wanted something much stronger than beer. Declan kept his voice even. "Sure. It’s a drug to help with the hunters. Helps with stuff. Makes it so I keep my mind, mostly."
Hell, they're even talking about it on TV, likening it to Agent Orange. I've got nothing to be ashamed about unless I snap and kill a bunch of people for no reason.
But he turned his head away and took a long pull on the beer, avoiding the look on her face. It was the clan
k of her beer bottle that had him look at her. She still looked like she'd seen a ghost.
Her beer had been emptied and he arched a brow. "Want another one?"
"You've used it?"
Declan shrugged. "Not like it's Viagra or something. So yeah. And I have to say it helped. You know what they say, better living through chemicals." He gave her another look. "Are you going to be sick, you're turning green."
Green had crept up the sides of her face but she swallowed hard. "Have anything stronger? I know I need it, you might."
That cold feeling wrapped around his stomach and spine, but he shrugged draining his beer. "Give me a minute." In the kitchen he grabbed a bottle of bourbon, with as green she looked he didn't want to take a chance of his Scotch getting upchucked. Another two beers and two glasses made for full arms as he headed back out, but he'd perfected the skill of juggling multiple drinks a decade ago.
He set the beers down then the bottle, uncorking it, but not pouring anything as he sat back down in his chair, his beer firmly in his hands.
"What's this all about? You didn't strike me as a hardcore booze guzzler. Not that I'm throwing stones or anything. I enthusiastically like my booze."
Kayter didn't answer him but grabbed the bottle splashed two fingers in the tumbler and tossed it back.
Declan snorted as she choked on the bourbon as it burned its way down. "And that is why I didn't bring out the Scotch. I don't abuse the good stuff."
She took a deep breath, set the glass down, and stared out at the trees. "It isn't chemicals."
"What the Bourbon? No, it's decent Kentucky Bourbon. Not super high end or anything, but decent. Picky, picky."
"Reset. It's not made from chemicals."
That icy feeling sank in further but Declan ignored it. "Last time I checked, most drugs are made of chemicals. Cocaine is from leaves, opium is from poppies, chocolate is cacao seeds. Still all drugs." He took a drink of beer, wanting to look away from her, and knowing he had to catch every nuance. "What is it made of, cat piss?"
Kayter turned and looked at him and he wanted to be anywhere but sitting right there. The last time he saw that look it had been on her father's face when he started booby trapping the children and wounded in a last-ditch effort to stop the horde. He'd wanted to die before he ever saw that look again.
"How many have you taken? How many vials of that stuff?"
Declan shrugged. "Ten? Twelve? They seem to last for a while. Not like I look forward to taking them."
Well not too much. It is nice to feel the rage get snuffed out.
She splashed some bourbon in both glasses and pushed one towards him.
"You might need that."
"Really, if it's made of ground-up roaches, I don't want to know." His voice held a note of desperation even to his own ears. He glanced at the bourbon but kept the beer bottle firmly in his hand.
"It's made of Fae blood, well human Fae hybrid's."
Declan felt his mind lock up and the world stopped as he looked at her. "Explain." All humor, everything, drained. At this moment his alarm system had more personality.
"They have people with Fae blood locked up in a factory, kept drugged, and they are draining them dry. When they can't produce any more blood, they dispose of the body and grab someone else. It's made of Fae blood."
Her eyes never wavered even as she drained the second glass of bourbon. DK stood, draining the beer as he did so. With motion full of violence, he chucked the bottle high towards the trees, the second it left his hand he grabbed his .45, raised it and fired. The bottle exploded into a rain of brown shards all over the area.
Slipping the pistol back into the holster, he grabbed the tumbler, and tossed back the contents in one smooth move.
"If she's involved I'll plunge a knife into her ice cold fucking heart. If she knew and gave this to me, I'll feed her to the next demon." DK's voice remained level and quiet. He turned dead eyes on to Kayter and part of him rejoiced as she flinched back. His own human rage pushed back the Rage, swallowing it in cold pure anger.
"Tell me everything. Don't leave out a single detail."
Kayter nodded once, a jerky motion, but she took another mouthful of bourbon and began to talk. Explaining everything. As she talked he sat, the tumbler filled but he didn't touch it as he listened to her talk.
Her color had returned by the time she finished, and she looked at him. "You didn't know."
"You really think any Blood War vet would willingly put the blood of another innocent being in us? I thought drugs, maybe some hard narcotics, but didn't care. Better to get addicted than lose my sanity and take others out with a violent breakdown."
She nodded, the stories were on the news with disturbing regularity.
"It helps?" Her voice low, quiet, but no accusation in the words.
"Knocks it out completely. Almost like it washes it out of my system. It takes time to build back up though I will say each time it comes back a bit faster. But then I've been killing a lot of demons lately and been more exposed to demon blood than I've been in the last few years."
"Who is she?"
"Cordelia Bennett." His voice flat, keeping any indication about he felt about the woman. That power he wouldn't give to anyone.
"The ICER lady? Kinda pretty, about your age? Stacked, smart, and tough?"
"That sounds like her. How do you know her?"
"Don't know her. Just listened in on her at a meeting with that douche bag Chad Morant."
A flicker of humor went through him but it fizzled out quickly. "What did they talk about?"
"You, it turns out. Offering you a way in. Chad didn't want you. She overrode him. I liked her."
"Yeah, I did too. Looks like I need to have a talk with Miss Bennett." His voice warmed a tiny bit, but the grin on his face didn't have anything to do with humor. "If I like her answers, she might still be alive by the time we are done."
"Understood." She sat there for a bit. "Mind if I hang for a bit? This wasn't how I expected this conversation to go."
"We both need food to start. Want some?"
"Sure." Her voice had the same flatness. "How many vets do you think are getting Reset?"
His mind flashed back to the news story and the vet that calmed down as they injected him with something, and the vials that just existed in Cordelia's desk.
"Too many. Most of whoever is left still active with the ICERs or merc outfits, I’d suspect."
"Yeah. That's what I thought. "
He went and grabbed sandwich fixings from the fridge. Then he started planning how he was going to get these Fae victims out, and the pending conversation with one Cordelia Bennet. Sandwiches made, he grabbed his phone and walked back out. He set the plate down but before he could sit back down his phone rang. DK picked up the phone even though the caller said unknown.
"Declan," Cordy's voice rang in his ears. "I have a job for you and need you now. Back up would not be a bad idea."
Chapter 44 – Reset Raid
"Go fuck yourself, Cordelia." Declan said each syllable crisp and sharp and hung up on the shocked silence on the other end. He turned and looked at Kayter, eyes narrowed. "Tell me again everything you remember about the place while we eat. We’re going to need our energy. And I need to know the layout, the people, and what to bring."
Taking a deep breath with her eyes a bit wide, the kid began to review all the descriptions, the layout, and the number of people there. As she talked he took notes on his phone and ate mechanically. The floodlights kept his patio well lit but he still paid attention as they ate and planned.
"You thinking 24-hour security?" He glanced at the clock - after 1800. It would be full dark in another hour or two.
"I have no idea. I'd think someone would have to be there for the hostages?" Her voice rose a bit on the end.
"Hostages? No. That would imply they give a shit about them as bargaining chips. These are victims. Period." He knew his voice held darkness and anger, but he'd choose anger ove
r collapsing to his knees and screaming in horror and rage.
Something in her seemed to deflate. "So, no chance there is a good reason they are being held there?"
Declan snorted as he held up the vial. "Not with what Art told us, and the fact they are directing this towards hunters. Then there’s the fact that we need it to keep the Rage in check.”
Kayter's eyes narrowed but he saw she was paying attention. "Rage? You mentioned it kept hunters stable."
"Yeah, we call it Rage. It’s a long-term side effect a bunch of us hunters were left with. We absorbed so much demon blood and residual magic during the war that something in us changed, brought out our darker primal aspects."
Declan swallowed and looked out the window, blood-drenched memories flashing through his mind. "We get pissed and go into almost a berserker mode, except calm, singularly focused, and deadly. It's the dirty little secret among the few veterans left of the Blood War."
Declan broke off, looking at the vial and his gut twisted. He pushed it down and continued. "I assumed it was a drug that helped counteract the effects. If what you found is true, they've been doping me with Fae blood, and that will have other ramifications." The words of the Fae in the bar flashed through his mind again and he swallowed past nausea.
"I see." Kayter stood looking at him. "So, what do you want to do?"
I want to fucking blow up ICER headquarters and kill the people involved in this. But there's always the chance they didn't all know. I really want them to have not known.
A deep breath helped to push it back and he focused on the task at hand.
Fuck it. Do what you can do. Kill who you can kill, figure the rest out later.
"I want to level that factory but we need the information that is there. And need to get those Fae out, alive if possible." Even as he said it, he pulled up the contact list on his phone. "And we're going to need back up."
Kayter arched a brow at him. "I'm not enough? I did well enough with the demons."
"True. But this is us in a confined space full of kill zones, knowing what is coming might be nice. " The number he'd dialed picked up on the other end.