Midnight Blood

by Adam J. Wright

  “That doesn’t mean he didn’t see the demon. It only means he didn’t mention it.”

  “Perhaps,” she said but I could see she wasn’t convinced.

  “It’s your case,” I told her. “You investigate it any way you want.”

  “I will.” She finished her soda and asked, “What about the Shadow Watch agents you’re meeting tomorrow? Do you know when they’ll contact you?”

  I shook my head. “It’s all very cloak and dagger.”

  “Well maybe we should all get some sleep,” she suggested. “Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”

  I agreed, albeit reluctantly. I knew I had to get some rest but I felt like a kid who doesn’t want to go to bed because they have a test at school the next day. The sooner I closed my eyes tonight, the sooner tomorrow would arrive.

  And that meant having to deal with Merlin and the creepy-ass sword in my basement.

  7

  A loud knocking on my door brought me out of a dream. I jolted upright in bed and blinked against the morning light streaming in through the window. The last vestiges of the dream refused to flee even when faced with the light and remained in my head.

  I’d had the same dream before a couple of times. In it, I was standing in an old, abandoned house staring into a full-length mirror. Mallory appeared in the mirror and seemed to be trapped behind the glass. As I gazed into her eyes, her face changed completely, transforming into the visage of a dark-skinned Egyptian woman dressed in a kalasiris, a simple sheath dress worn by women in ancient times.

  I slid out of bed and squinted against the light as I peered out of the window. Sheriff Cantrell’s patrol car was parked outside, which meant it was Merlin at the door. Not bothering to dress, I went downstairs in my shorts and opened the door.

  “Alec,” Merlin said as he pushed past me and into the house. “Good to see you. I trust you have a place for us to begin our quest.”

  “Not yet,” I said, padding into the kitchen and putting the coffee machine on. “I’m waiting for a call. You want coffee?”

  He nodded. “What call? From whom?”

  “I’m not really sure,” I said, getting mugs from the cupboard. “A couple of agents from the Shadow Watch.”

  His eyebrows knitted together. “Shadow Watch?”

  “You haven’t heard of them, huh? I guess they’re a little after your time.”

  I poured two coffees and gave him one. He sipped it and scrunched his face up. “What sorcery is this?”

  “It’s called coffee. You said you wanted one.”

  “Yes, I know what it is from Cantrell’s memory and I know he likes it but nothing could prepare me for the taste.”

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  He sniffed it warily and took another small sip. “Hmm, yes, I think you might be right.”

  “So,” I said. “What do we do while we’re waiting for the Watch to get in contact? You want to go home and I’ll call you when I hear from them?”

  “No, there’s no need for that. While we’re waiting, you can familiarize yourself with Excalibur.”

  “I think I’m familiar enough with it already.”

  “No, you can’t be. Not yet anyway. Excalibur isn’t just any old sword, Alec. It becomes one with its wielder. Until you let it become part of you, it won’t reveal its full potential. And we’re going to need its full might for the task at hand.”

  I took a long sip of my coffee. “I don’t like the sound of letting it become part of me. I thought it was supposed to become part of my enemies. When I stab them with it.”

  “Excalibur and its wielder must become one,” he said. “That’s how it works. Now, fetch the sword and we’ll see how you two get on.”

  “It’s in the basement,” I told him. “I have a training area down there.”

  “Very well, let’s go to the basement and put you through your paces.”

  “I’ll get dressed first.” I went up to my bedroom and slipped on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt.

  I went back down and rejoined Merlin and then we descended the stairs to the training area. I gestured at the cupboard on the wall. “It’s in there.”

  “Get it out then and I’ll judge how well you two work together.”

  “You make it sound like we’re dating.” I put my mug of coffee down, opened the cupboard, and took out the sword.

  “Wielding Excalibur is not like dating at all,” he said. “It’s more like a marriage.”

  As my fingers curled around the grip, I felt a tingling sensation travel through my hand and up along my arm.

  “Now strike one of those effigies over there,” Merlin said, indicating the training dummies lined up along the wall.

  I walked over to the dummies, getting used to the heft of the sword in my hand. It was surprisingly light and comfortable to hold. I positioned myself in front of a dummy and swung Excalibur, aiming for the mass of the chest.

  The sword seemed to have other ideas. As it traveled through the air, the blade changed trajectory and sliced into the dummy’s neck so forcefully that the dummy’s head fell off and rolled across the floor.

  “Don’t fight the weapon,” Merlin advised.

  “I’m not fighting it. It’s fighting me.”

  “Become one with the blade. Act in accordance with its wishes.”

  “No,” I said, leaning Excalibur against the wall. “I’m not going to use a sword that does its own thing.”

  Merlin frowned as if he didn’t understand my protest. “Isn’t cutting off your enemy’s head preferable to hitting them in the chest? The most expedient attack is a swift kill.”

  “I get to decide that,” I told him. “Not the sword.”

  He tapped his forefinger against his lips thoughtfully. “Hmm, I can see we’re going to have some teething problems.”

  “There won’t be any problems as long as the sword goes where I want it to.”

  He tutted. “That isn’t how Excalibur works.” He walked over the rack of weapons on the wall. “These weapons you have here are simply inert pieces of metal. They are tools to be used how you see fit. Excalibur isn’t simply a piece of forged steel; it’s a living thing. It isn’t your tool; it’s your companion.”

  I looked at the sword leaning innocuously against the wall. There was no way I was going to wield a weapon that had a mind of its own. “I’ll pass. I have plenty of good swords already. You can take that one back.”

  Merlin arched an eyebrow amusedly. “That isn’t possible, Alec. You made a pledge to the Lady of the Lake and she gifted you the sword so that you may carry out that pledge. You can’t go back on it now.”

  “I don’t want to go back on the pledge,” I told him, even though I’d give anything right now to be able to travel back in time to that moment at the pool and keep my dumb mouth closed. “I just don’t need the sword, thanks.”

  “It isn’t an option. The Midnight Cabal killed the Lady of the Lake’s sister. You will use Excalibur, which the Lady of the Lake has given you, to destroy them. It’s simple. I don’t understand why you’re resisting.”

  “Because no one mentioned anything about living swords or steel companions.”

  “Don’t fret, my friend. These are early days. Arthur was just the same when he first tried to wield Excalibur. But later, when he and the sword became one, he used its power to carve out his kingdom.”

  “I’m not really into the whole kingdom thing.”

  “Nevertheless, you will use Excalibur to fight against the Midnight Cabal. Now, pick up the sword and attack another of the effigies.”

  I sighed and took Excalibur’s grip lightly in my hand. “I won’t have any effigies left if the sword keeps decapitating them.”

  A knock at the door saved me having to destroy another dummy. I put down the sword and said, “I should see who that is.”

  Leaving him in the basement, I went up and opened the front door. A young Asian woman stood outside, dressed in a long black coat that reached to her a
nkles. She nodded at me by way of a greeting. “Alec Harbinger, I’m Honoka Chan. The guy in the car is my partner, Todd Benson.”

  A black SUV sat on the street, engine running. The blonde guy behind the wheel stared at me with the same expression a scientist might have when examining a germ through a microscope.

  “We were told you wanted a ride-along,” Honoka said.

  “That’s right.”

  She nodded toward the car. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Wait a second, there’s someone else coming too,” I told her. “Turning to face the basement steps, I shouted, “Sheriff, our ride is here.”

  Merlin bounded up the steps as quickly as Cantrell’s body allowed. When he saw Honoka at the door, he performed a short bow that just seemed weird. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am—”

  “Sheriff John Cantrell,” she finished for him. “Widower. One daughter, Amy. Wife killed in a church massacre that has probable paranormal connections.”

  “Great,” I said, “We all know each other. Let’s go.”

  Honoka held up a hand. “You can come. The sheriff stays here.”

  “He’s with me,” I said. “He’s helping me on a case.”

  “We agreed to take you, Harbinger. No one else.”

  “But I’m the sheriff,” Merlin said.

  “I don’t care if you’re Merlin the magician, you’re not coming with us.”

  “Well actually…” he began.

  “He’ll wait here,” I said quickly.

  Honoka turned away from the door and walked across the lawn to the SUV. “Time to go, Harbinger. Say your goodbyes.”

  “Wait here,” I told Merlin. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “But I wanted to come too.”

  “They won’t let you in the car.”

  He looked at the SUV and then back at me. “All right. I see what you mean.”

  “I shouldn’t be too long,” I said. “Just make yourself at home until I get back. Watch TV or something.”

  “Okay,” he said loudly, “I’ll just stay here and watch TV.” He shot me a knowing smile.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Letting them know that I’m staying here.”

  “They know that already.” I stepped out onto the stoop.

  “Okay, Alec, see you soon.” He was speaking loudly again. As he closed the front door, he tapped his nose and winked at me.

  As I walked to the SUV, I wondered if it was safe to leave Merlin alone in my house.

  I climbed into the back of the vehicle and closed the door.

  “The sheriff’s weird,” Honoka said from the passenger seat.

  “I can’t argue with that,” I said.

  Todd Benson turned around in the driver’s seat to look at me. “Hey, man, I’m Todd.” He held out his hand.

  I shook it. He tried to crush my hand but I gave as good as I got. I wasn’t into machismo bullshit but I wasn’t going to let him assert any dominance over me either.

  “Okay, let’s go.” Spinning back around in his seat, he put the car into Drive and pulled away from the curb.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “We’re going to pick up this man,” Honoka said, passing a photograph to me. It showed a fair-haired man in his thirties loading sacks of groceries into the back of a station wagon. He wore thick-rimmed glasses and a tan jacket and looked totally average in every way.

  “Who is he?” I asked.

  “Gerald Garland,” Honoka said, taking the photo back. “We’re fairly sure he’s involved with the Cabal albeit in a minor way. He’s strictly small time, an amateur occultist who thinks he can run with the big dogs so we’re not real interested in him per se but he probably has information we can use to infiltrate higher levels of the organization.”

  “Guys like him roll over pretty easily and give up their friends real fast when the pressure’s on,” Todd said.

  “And how do you two put the pressure on?”

  Todd smirked. “Stick around and you’ll find out. What’s your interest in the Cabal anyway? I thought you P.I. guys just caught ghosts and handled the occasional werewolf.”

  Although professional pride made me want to educate this Shadow Watch agent regarding the important role of the Preternatural Investigator, I resisted the temptation. I had a feeling Honoka and Todd knew a lot about me.

  If Honoka’s summary of Sheriff Cantrell’s life was anything to go by, she and Todd had done their research before coming to Dearmont. They probably knew all the cases I’d worked on, the events in Paris and my subsequent relocation to Maine. They definitely knew who my father was and the fact that he was missing. They might even think he was a traitor who’d defected to the Cabal.

  “Don’t forget we’re a big hit at Halloween parties,” I said.

  He snorted. “Yeah, right, dude. Seriously, though, things must be real quiet around here, am I right? I mean, if you want real preternatural action in this part of the country, you need to go to Massachusetts.”

  “Or Vermont,” Honoka added.

  Todd frowned at her. “Vermont? What the hell is in Vermont?”

  “Remember that witch cult we busted?”

  His face lit up. “Oh yeah, Vermont is wild, man!”

  In an attempt to distract myself from their chatter, I watched the buildings on Main Street pass by the window. As we drove out of town and onto the highway, the buildings disappeared and were replaced by an endless procession of trees.

  “Hey, Alec,” Todd said after we’d been on the highway for half an hour. “You’re real quiet back there. Don’t you have anything to ask us? I bet you haven’t met anyone from the Shadow Watch before. You must have a thousand questions.”

  “No, not really.”

  “Oh.” He concentrated intently on the road for a couple of minutes, during which time he was either fighting his disappointment in my lack of interest or trying to think of something else to say.

  It turned out to be the latter when he said, “Because we don’t mind if you want to ask us anything. You might want to know about what weapons we use or what tactics we use. You know, because we’re, like, cool and stuff.”

  “No, I’m good.”

  He fell into a sullen silence after that. For maybe five minutes. Then, out of the blue, he asked, “Hey, Harbinger, have you ever heard of something called the Melandra Codex?”

  Honoka shot him a look and shook her head at him almost imperceptibly.

  Todd shrugged at her innocently and said, “Fine, I’ll shut up.”

  It was obvious Todd had said something he shouldn’t have and since my only other form of entertainment was watching the trees roll past, I leaned forward and said. “No, I haven’t heard of the Melandra Codex. What is it?”

  “Nothing,” Honoka said with a note of finality.

  “Todd?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, sounding like a scolded child.

  I sat back in the seat and took out my phone. I sent a text to Felicity.

  What is the Melandra Codex?

  The reply came back a couple of minutes later.

  No idea. Why?

  Not important right now, I texted back before putting the phone away.

  But it was obvious from Honoka’s wordless reprimand that it was important. Why had Todd asked me about it? After all, in his eyes, I was just a lowly P.I. who caught ghosts and dealt with the occasional werewolf.

  Retrieving the phone from my pocket again, I typed “Melandra Codex” into the search engine. There were no results.

  “Turn here,” Honoka told Todd. He did as instructed and guided the SUV onto a track that led to a farmhouse.

  As we bumped along the track, Honoka turned to me and said, “You wait in the car while we go in and get the guy.”

  “Sure.”

  We reached the farmhouse and Todd applied the brakes, bringing us to a stop next to a battered blue Toyota.

  The two agents left the vehicle and split up, Honoka going around ba
ck while Todd approached the front door. He knocked and waited. When there was no answer, he called, “Gerald Garland, you in there?”

  After receiving no answer a second time, he kicked the door open and slipped inside.

  A few moments later, Gerald Garland burst out of the house and sprinted for the trees. I had no idea where Todd or Honoka were so I opened my door and pursued the fleeing man into the woods.

  He was easy to track as he crashed through the undergrowth and branches and I soon caught up with him. I tackled him to the ground and we both rolled in the dirt. Before he could regain his feet, I pinned one of his arms behind his back and dragged him to his feet.

  “Ow!” he said, “There’s no need for that. I’m willing to talk to you guys.”

  “Of course you are. That’s why you came bursting out of the house like Justin Gatlin.” I shoved him in the direction of the farmhouse.

  “You can’t blame me for trying. I wasn’t going to just roll over and let them take me. I suppose you want to know all about my involvement with the Midnight Cabal. Well I won’t talk and you can’t make me.”

  “I’m not going to make you,” I said, pointing to Honoka and Todd, who were emerging from the house. “They are.”

  He looked at them and grimaced. “Who are they?”

  I was probably supposed to say, “Your worst nightmare,” or something equally dramatic but instead I just said, “Two people who want to talk to you.”

  “What’s with the coats? They look like they’re in a Matrix movie or something.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “They’re not going to hurt me are they?”

  I remembered Todd’s crushing handshake. “I wouldn’t count on them going easy on you.”

  “Listen,” he said, stopping in his tracks. “I’ll talk to you, okay? I know you. I don’t know them.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Alec, I’m an occultist. Do you really think I wouldn’t know who the dashing local P.I. is? You’ve been in the newspaper and on TV. You’re a local hero.”

  “I’m no hero.”

  Todd was now standing by the SUV, looking impatient. He shouted to me. “Come on, man, don’t stand there shooting the shit with the guy. Bring him over here.”