A Fixer Yuletide: A Lawson Vampire Collection (The Lawson Vampire Series Book 1)

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A Fixer Yuletide: A Lawson Vampire Collection (The Lawson Vampire Series Book 1) Page 8

by Jon F. Merz


  And five hundred feet from where I'd entered, I lost my footing and went down as another two bullets screamed through the space my head had been a nanosecond earlier. My hands touched cold steel.

  And gravel.

  Tracks.

  The Amtrak and MBTA commuter rail lines ran under the streets. We must have been closer to Dorchester Ave. and South Station than I'd thought.

  "Let me go, Lawson!"

  Hess' voice rang out through the falling snow. I got to my feet and eyed a support column twenty feet away. Carefully, I made my way to it. "Can't do that, Hess. You know the rules."

  "Forget the rules. You don't like the Council anyway."

  "Doesn't matter whether I like them or not." I moved out from the support beam and started working my way around the darkness.

  Hess paused. "I've got money here, Lawson. More than enough for both of us. I'm not greedy, you know. We could go into business together."

  "Not interested." I kept moving, trying to key in on his voice. My feet touched another rail and I sidestepped it, feeling the gravel and snow crunching underfoot.

  "Then you are a fool."

  Hess' voice was suddenly a lot closer than I'd expected.

  I turned.

  Saw the dim outline in the dark, his red coat caught up in a breeze that made it look like a cape. But he held a small caliber pistol in his hand.

  And that wasn't moving.

  I considered my options. And none of them left me tingling with excitement.

  "You should have let me go," said Hess.

  I shook my head. "Can't do it." Was it getting lighter now? I could make Hess out more clearly.

  "You are not leaving me any alternatives, Lawson. I'd very much like to have a Fixer on my side."

  The light was increasing. And I heard something then.

  "I'm not for hire, Hess."

  And then I dove to the left as the sudden brilliant explosion of light and the sound came barreling up from behind Hess. The train headlamp caught Hess full in its glare silhouetting him for one brief awful moment before it slammed into him.

  It rushed past me, a furious torrent of sound and fury and screeching metal. I kept rolling until I was sure I was safe.

  The train rumbled on into South Station.

  I got to my feet, shaking and stuttering to grab a breath. I walked back to the last place I'd seen Hess. There was blood on the tracks.

  But nothing else.

  Hess was gone

  I climbed back into my Mercedes and gunned the engine. I was freezing and wanted the heater going full bore. I punched Niles' number into the phone and waited for him to pick up. When he did, I took a breath.

  "Done."

  "Hess?"

  "Gone."

  "You positive?"

  I frowned. "Let's just say he didn't miss his train."

  Niles paused. "What about the kids?"

  "Couldn't be helped. Hess brought backup and there was a firefight. They're all dead."

  "Might be a blessing in disguise."

  I shook my head. "I doubt that."

  "Regardless, you got it done. Thanks."

  "What I do."

  "Merry Christmas, Lawson."

  I looked out of my window at the swirling snow. "Not by a long shot." I disconnected and sat there a moment longer, wondering if any of those kids had really deserved to die. Huang had shown he was capable of realizing he'd made a mistake. That counted in my book.

  Too bad it had happened too late-

  The garrote came around my neck with all the suddenness the weapon was famous for. As the wire bit into my neck, my instincts flared and I twisted, ignoring the wire and going for the man behind it.

  Hess' bloody face greeted me; his eyes bloodshot and caked blood framing the sick smile plastered across his mug. I jerked him over the seat into the front with me. My blood mixed with his as he fought to retain his grip on the ends of the garrote, twisting it to close down my airway and cause blood loss.

  But I pumped an elbow into his midsection and he grunted, releasing the pressure.

  That was all it took.

  I jerked the USP out and pressed it against his sternum.

  Fired.

  Once-twice.

  Hess jerked back, convulsed once more and then slumped back against the passenger side window.

  I coughed and gagged as I pulled the piano wire from my neck. My hand came away glazed with blood, but it wouldn't kill me. At least not anymore. I sniffed the wire to make sure Hess hadn't coated it with something toxic, like turpentine.

  But it was clean.

  I looked at his corpse, his eyes rolled back into his head and the splotchy red nose.

  Then I popped the locks, opened the door and kicked him out into the street. His body tumbled out.

  I started the engine, flipped on my lights, and roared away, watching his body shrink in my rearview mirror.

  Forty minutes later I was back sitting in front of the window in my condo. I had a bandage wrapped around my neck.

  A fresh glass of Bombay Sapphire and tonic with a thick wedge of lime sat in my hand.

  And a fresh batch of bad memories littered my brain.

  The snow fell harder now as the clock tolled the midnight hour.

  I watched the flakes drop, tracking strange routes as the wind blew them aimlessly about.

  "So melancholy."

  I turned.

  "Jesus Christ."

  Talya stood just inside my door. A wry grin made its way across her face. "Why is it every time I show up you say that?"

  "Because every time you show up, you tend to break into my place."

  "So who's breaking in?" She held up a key. "Made it the last time I was here."

  And then she crossed the floor and I caught her up in a tight embrace. Her lips were cold, but they warmed to the touch. If I had my way, they'd stay that way for a long time.

  She pulled away to take a breath and ran her fingers along my neck. "Picking up a new souvenir?"

  "Something like that. Siberia?"

  "Cold."

  And that was the end of the talking.

  Outside, the snow continued to fall. But I didn't care much more about that. Or the cold.

  Because Talya was back.

  And Christmas Day had just begun.

  Frosty The Hitman

  December 2012

  “His name is Frost.”

  I looked down at the grainy surveillance picture. I saw a shock a white hair and the pasty complexion. “This guy have any blood circulating through his veins or what?”

  “Ice,” said Niles. “He kills with absolutely zero remorse. Worse, he’s very good at disappearing for years on end.”

  “Why’s this the first I’ve heard of him?”

  Niles nursed the vodka and tonic in front of him. “Frost takes an assignment and then when it’s done, he lays low. Really low. Only a very select clientele have the ability to hire him and fewer still know how to get in touch with him.”

  I glanced back at the picture. Frost looked a few years older than me, but even at his age, it was obvious he kept himself in very good shape. “How’d we find out he’s on his way here?”

  “Cyber chatter,” said Niles. “Frost doesn’t use any of the social networks or have an online presence at all, but fortunately for us, his employers do more often than not.”

  “And you know who his employers are?”

  “Some of them,” said Niles. “But we’ve gotten enough leads to put a watch on their systems. The Ferrets are very good at their jobs. And Benny helped us out a bit, too.”

  I smirked. Benny the Phreak was an old asset of mine. But in the Philippines, he’d become a Loyalist when Niles told him about the living race of vampires that had evolved alongside humanity in secret. Nowadays, Benny was on the payroll of the Council and for a tidy sum, he helped us out from time-to-time, including - apparently - teaching Ferrets how to hack their way into supposedly secure networks.

 
Ferrets were the real intel geeks. Vampires who passed along tons of minutiae to the Council on pretty much every aspect of human activity. I’d met a few of them, but I hadn’t even known they’d existed until last year.

  “Do we know who the target is?”

  Niles took a sip of his drink. Around us, the after-work crowd was beginning to populate the small swanky bar in Copley Square off of Exeter Street. “You’re not going to like it.”

  I sighed. “Just tell me, would you?”

  “Ava.”

  I frowned. “You’re right. I don’t like it at all. Can’t say I blame the client, though. There have been many times I thought I’d like to see Ava gone once and for all.”

  “She’s on the Council. She has certain privileges the rest of us don’t have.”

  “She’s had privileges all her life, that’s the problem. Ava’s a spoiled bitch. What’d she do to piss someone off enough for them to want her dead?”

  Niles shrugged. “You know her. She won’t say.”

  “Wonderful.”

  I stirred the Bombay Sapphire and tonic and nudged a wedge of lime before taking a sip. A jazzed up version of Baby It’s Cold Outside played discretely in the background. I liked this bar because you could actually have a conversation in the place. And they happened to also make a damned fine drink. Outside, a few snowflakes drifted down past the windows, but the news hadn’t said that it would be much of a storm. Just enough to help people get in the mood for Christmas.

  Or an assassin named Frost get in the mood for a kill.

  I handed the picture back to Niles. “When was that taken?”

  “Three years ago.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Niles shrugged. “We do the best with what we have, Lawson.”

  “And that isn’t very much, apparently.”

  “We’ve got watchers at Logan. We’ll see him when he comes in.”

  I took another sip of my drink. “Probably a waste of time. If Frost is as good as you say he is, then he’ll take precautions not to be noticed. Hell, he could fly in through Hanscom and no one would give him a second glance. Or else come in through New York and take a bus up.”

  “That’s the problem. We can’t do an intercept on him.”

  “Too many avenues to cover.”

  “Exactly. I’ve discussed the situation with Ava. The plan is to wait until he moves on her - and we expect that to happen within the next 24 hours.”

  “She must have loved that plan. She gets to be bait?” I smirked. “Where is the princess right now?”

  “Weston. She’s holed up at her estate.”

  “You’re just going to let Frost waltz in there?”

  Niles shrugged. “I tried getting a Specter team in place, but they’re delayed because of the storm. No guarantees they’ll get here before Frost does.”

  “That’s a shame. They could have handled Frost. They’re good enough.”

  Niles looked uncomfortable. “They’re not good enough for Ava.”

  “According to you?”

  “According to her.” Niles eyed me. “She wants a Fixer in the house with her at all times.”

  “Oh, hell no-“

  “It’s just until this thing blows over, Lawson. It might be our only shot at him.”

  I shook my head. “You put me in her house and Frost won’t have to worry about doing the job. I’ll probably kill her myself.”

  “You know you won’t do that.”

  I looked around. “Niles, it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow. I have plans. Nice plans.”

  “What sort of plans? Is she in town?”

  He wouldn’t say Talya’s name, but Niles knew about her. I shook my head. “Well, no. She’s in Prague. I think.” I took another sip of my drink. “But I have friends I was planning on visiting. Wirek. Arthur.”

  “Wirek left yesterday for Paris with that contortionist he’s been seeing. And Arthur has already told me he plans on being drunk for the holiday anyway. You’re not missing anything, pal.”

  Shit.

  Niles got up and left a fifty dollar bill on the table. “I’ll tell Ava to expect you in a few hours.”

  It was snowing harder as I drove down route 20 westbound into Weston. Ava had a sprawling estate just off the main road through town. I took a left and then a right and then let the Mercedes pick its way down a twisting gravel drive. The estate was surrounded by thick woods of ancient oaks and pines. Ava’s family had been in money longer than most and it showed. The difference between her ancestors and Ava was that they had actually worked for their money.

  Ava had just inherited it.

  My level of respect for people who don’t know how to earn a buck through hard work ranks just above the respect I have for politicians. Which is to say it’s virtually nonexistent.

  Ava and I had butted heads so many times in the past, I was having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that she’d apparently requested my help.

  I flicked the wipers as more of the wet flakes stuck to the glass. The woods parted a moment later to reveal manicured lawns that looked like they’d been dusted with powdered sugar. Beyond, a brick manor house covered in ivy glowed in the December night. Even from where I sat, it looked warm as light spilled from the frosted panes of glass. I pulled the Mercedes around to the front door, grabbed my gear bag, and then headed up the stone steps to the huge wooden door that looked like it would take a battering ram to bring down.

  I rang the doorbell and waited, shivering in the cold winds.

  The door opened a moment later after a series of heavy deadbolts had been drawn back. I found myself staring into the ancient face of a butler with white wispy hair. His dull gray eyes appraised me from head to toe and then his thin lips parted. “You must be Lawson.”

  “I must be cold,” I said. “Not to mention insane for coming here.”

  The butler smiled. “Madame is as delighted as you are, no doubt.” He stepped back and let me enter the house. A warm blanket drew itself over me as I stepped into the main entry. Ahead of me, a grand staircase led up to the second floor, branching off to the left and right. A full suit of old English armor stood sentry close to the staircase, but the huge balsam fir bedecked with white lights drew my eyes first. Wreaths and garlands adorned the walls and a delicate perfume of wood smoke and pine boughs hung in the air. Rooms seemed to sprout everywhere off of this main reception area.

  I looked back at the butler. “You got a name?”

  “Frederick, sir.”

  “Well, Fred, is she going to come out here and greet me?”

  I sensed movement behind me and turned to see Ava emerging from one of the rooms to my right wearing a white sweater, dark jeans, pearls, and a grin that told me she wasn’t nearly as thrilled as she was going to pretend to be. “She is. Welcome to my home, Lawson.”

  Ava was several years older than me, but she was still drop-dead gorgeous. She wore her blonde hair tucked up in a messy bundle that still managed to look incredibly chic. I wondered if there were courses rich people took that taught them how to always look so damned money. I wasn’t exactly hurting financially - no vampire ever really wants for money - but Ava was light years wealthier than I’d ever be. Her family had learned long ago that money meant power. And they’d done their damnedest to accumulate as much of it as they could.

  “Wish I could say I’m happy about being here.”

  Ava brushed a speck of invisible dust from the knight’s helmet and showed Fred. “It needs tending to, Frederick.”

  He rushed off to find his dusting supplies with surprising agility I wouldn’t have expected in someone so old. Ava looked at me. “I’m aware that this is probably not your idea of a dream assignment.”

  “Especially with it being Christmas and all.”

  Ava ignored me. “But I told Niles that I wanted the best. And despite our rather colorful past, I happen to believe if there is anyone who can stop this killer, it is you.”

  Ava moti
oned for me to follow her into the room she’d come from. As we walked into it, lights came on and I noticed the blazing fireplace. Ava sat down in a leather armchair and I sat on the couch opposite. “The fact is, I fear we are dealing with someone who doesn’t play by the rules.”

  “If he’s stayed alive as long as he has, then I’d grant you that’s a fair estimation.”

  “And so, I want someone who also doesn’t play by the rules. That is you.”

  “Fair enough. But I want some straight talk for a moment.”

  Ava glanced at her manicured hands. “What sort of straight talk?”

  “Why is Frost after you?”

  “Is that his name?”

  “So I’m told.”

  Ava sighed. “Is it possible to serve on the Council and not accumulate enemies? I don’t know that it is. Governing always attracts the lunatic fringe, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “If those who govern would remember they do so at the grace of those they serve, there probably wouldn’t be so much animosity directed at them.”

  Ava waved me off. “Governance is a divinely ordained calling. It’s not suitable for everyone. As such, only those who may answer the call can truly fathom its complexities.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Ava looked horrified. “I’ll thank you for not resorting to such language while you are a guest in my house.”

  I thumbed over my shoulder. “I could always leave.”

  Ava heaved a sigh. “Don’t. As much as it pains me to admit, I need you, Lawson.”

  “Answer the question then.”

  Ava got up and fixed herself a drink at the small bar in the corner of the room. She looked back over her shoulder. “Can I make you one?”

  As much as it would have tasted good, I shook my head and waited for her to come back, nursing a vodka over ice in a highball. When she’d taken a number of sips, she held the glass in one hand, balanced to perfection with her wrist bent just so and her legs crossed. Her bright blue eyes stared at me and I stared right back.

  “Oh, all right.” She sighed, took another sip and then smiled. “You can’t blame me for trying to simply gloss over the particulars, can you?”

  I said nothing. Usually, the person you’re speaking with will want to fill in the uncomfortable silence by speaking. Ava smirked.

 

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