Neon White Season One: A Tooth, Claw and Horns Chronicle

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Neon White Season One: A Tooth, Claw and Horns Chronicle Page 6

by Wulf Francu Godgluck


  “You prefer somewhere more...human?” Raven asked.

  Jessy gaped at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” her hands were on her hips now. He could almost hear the mental tapping of her boot.

  “Well, you did, not so kindly, state you are a Pyro—”

  Jessy held up her right hand, index finger ticking left and right. “Just ’cause, does not mean I want to be associated with the rest of them.” She dropped her hands to her sides, her voice cold and bitter. “I only recently discovered I’m a Pyro when I…” She didn’t meet Raven’s gaze when she said, “learned who and what my father is.” She looked up and, as if a light switch was flipped, the spicy princess was back. “Besides, two enforcers walking into a supers’ bar? It sounds like the start of a bad, bad joke that does not end well.”

  “And what would be so bad of us walking free in our own peel?” A pot bellied demon stepped up to them. His skin was a leathery pink, his face like a pig that met a wall, face first, and his snout glistened with mucus. Small brown horns covered his bald head.

  “Pelat! My friend,” Raven embraced the demon in a warm hug. Raven caught Jessy glare at the four cloven hoofed fingers on each of Pelat’s hands.

  Raven stepped back and leaned into Jessy, whispering in her ear, “The most important rule of being an Enforcer, is to treat the supers with respect and you will have the same.”

  “Ah, it is truth you speak there. None human treats us better than Raven. So what is this female by your side, lad? Don’t tell me you have gone pole straight.”

  “No, she is my new partner,” Raven smiled sheepishly.

  “Here be the day unicorns lose their horns.” Pelat rumbled, his belly quaking as he laughed. Pelat stepped round the bar’s counter when Raven claimed a stool. “What ale will you cleanse your bosoms with then?”

  “No drinking, friend, just something to eat and wash down our meal, and I have some questions for you.”

  “Shouldn’t you show your badge first?”

  “No need, lass. This young Raven we know is Enforcer,” Pelat leaned with his elbows on the counter and dropped his voice low. “No need to flash your authority, be making my other patrons nervous.”

  “One bowl of the eggplant curry, and let me see...” Raven licked his lips recalling the menu from memory.

  “Cauliflower soup, with two potato hash drizzled with black lava salt,” Jessy interrupted Raven before he could finish. Her attention shifted from the blackboard menu high above the bar to Raven. “I can order for myself you know, partner.” She nudged Raven in the ribs. “And since it seems we will be eating here on regular basis I might as well get to know the menu.” Her words ended with a smile, braces flashing.

  Raven shook his head and turned to Pelat. “Add in a plate of crisp veggies for starters, two slices of pumpkin cheesecake, two mugs of spiced pumpkin tea, and we have ourselves a brunch.”

  “Aye, order up,” Pelat shouted and disappeared to the back.

  “I thought this was a bar, not a restaurant.” Jessy turned to Raven.

  “Neither, the supers tend to hold on to the old ways, well, most of them do. Technically we are in a tavern.”

  “Like an inn?” she asked.

  Raven skittered. “No, not the same thing. An inn has lodging, taverns don’t.”

  “And what’s up with them walking around in their true form? It’s against the law.”

  “Only in public. Do you know the amount of energy they expel to maintain their human skin? In here…” he waved a hand to the critters in the bar, “they can be themselves.”

  A steaming plate of crisp fried vegetables, complete with golden crust, was set before them, drawing their attention to the plate.

  “Okay, I’m impressed,” Jessy said looking at Pelat. “No dripping grease.”

  Pelat patted his belly. “The wifey, you see, she says I’ma getting too portly around the midriff so she took over the tavern’s menu.” He turned to Raven. “You wanted a word, Detective?”

  Raven never reached for his notepad to write things down, never had to—his memory was that good. Jessy on the other hand did and scribbled while pecking on a steaming broccoli stem that crunched as she bit into it.

  “The Hellhound you warned me about, it happened. Teenager was found dead this morning, grave stone ‘fell’ on his head.”

  “Aah don’t think that thing fell on the poor lad’s crown. Mights be it was purposely forced over or even cut. You know what Hellhounds look like, Raven?” Pelat raised a hairless eyebrow.

  “I was given a visual description from my partner. Definitely cut, but the victim intrigues me. Young, about seventeen, runaway, artist following some cult about Cthulhu.”

  Pelat rolled his eyes at the statement.

  Raven continued. “The probability of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time is highly unlikely. There might have been a cult gathering which,” he turned to Jessy, “means we may have witnesses.”

  “How the hell? We didn’t spend more than ten minutes at the crime scene. How could you have picked up all that in such short time? You didn’t even properly inspect the body?” she said a bit too loud, and the tavern room fell to a hush, then started to buzz with voices again.

  “If you weren’t so transfixed on the twink then maybe, my bright young detective partner, you would have paid more attention to what I was doing. I didn’t need to touch the body; my eyes told me more than I needed to know. Forensics will fill in the blanks.” Raven kept his voice steady and calm. He turned back to Pelat, “Hellhounds have a master, so this one was sent here for a reason. Summoned, as I recall you said and I know, by your kind. Summoned means commanded to do so. As of now, Pelat Cronxis, you are a suspect. How did you get the information, and why pass it on to me?”

  Raven narrowed his eyes, adding a scowl to his ‘danger face’. He knew how to smooth talk the supers, but he also knew how to place them on the spot when they least expected it. Pelat’s forehead turned even pinker and sweat appeared on his plump face. His beady auburn eyes dilated, turning a paler shade of milky brown. Pelat was a good demon as far as good goes, except maybe for his indulgence of eating baby squirrels, but that had nothing to do with the here and now.

  “Raven, Detective, friend,” Pelat gave a shy smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I merely overheard a conversation that one of my patrons had smelled the hound, as you are a dear acquaintance and loyal customer I thought it best to let you know.” Pelat wiped his hand over his face then dried it on his apron leaving darkened stains against the washed out black. “I think your meal is ready.” He was visibly shaken as he quickly exited to the kitchen.

  “What the fuck, dude?” Jessy said, her mouth open.

  “A bit of homework for you. Go research my family tree and ask around the station exactly why I’m a detective.”

  Pelat served their food with trembling hands and swiftly turned.

  “Pelat, there’s one more thing I wish to ask, my friend.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said but did not turn to face either of them.

  “Apparently supers have been going missing, some talk of experimentation. Do you know anything about this?”

  “I’ve heard the same rumors, Detective.” He finally turned, his face now gray, his eyes turning ashen. A wonderful thing about the Suidae-hush demons, their emotions and feelings were displayed in the color change of their eyes. Gray definitely meant Pelat knew something, and it meant he was scared.

  “Two Strigoi went a miss a couple weeks ago. None reported it because Strigoi vanish often for hibernation, but I knew the couple you see. They had just come out of a hundred year slumber four months past, so it seemed a bit peculiar at first, but I did not want to bring it to your attention. I reckoned they’d be gone for a vacation. You know how spontaneous those Strigoi are, and,” he shrugged, “if they were killed there’d be no way you could gather evidence of that, only time could tell. I hardly differ that there could not be snatchings. Supernaturals have gone missi
ng, but they aren’t the type you would bring to an Enforcer’s attention. That be just nurturing other questions.”

  Raven ran his hand over his stubble. What Pelat actually meant was those that went missing would stay missing because they were criminals, most likely dealers in the underworld or on the black market. Why then would someone kidnap them? Another investigator killing them off? It didn’t make sense. The law stated clearly every death of a super and para was to be reported and filed whether they were good or bad, by the hands of an enforcer or another.

  Jessy spoke and drew Raven’s mind back to the present. “Now there’s one thing I don’t get. Vampires, why are they so small in number when they are so popular in media?”

  “To begin, little Miss Jessy, vampires would not be the parasitic menacing they are.” Pelat explained. “You see, us supers as you brand we, have our own array of viruses and illnesses. Our bodies are stouter, fighting off these worms, but like wild beasts, every then and now the virus alters, hurdling species. Thus was the time a virus came to a demon community of whom craved the tang of blood. One nibble, just one taste of tainted blood and a Strigoi was born. Those original septic demons were herded and slaughtered, the virus too, but the meats infected with the virus metamorphosed, now starving to drink from another human for the rest of their immortal lives.

  “The process of siring a human into a Strigoi is a complexity. The virus that mutated in the first Strigoi is selective. Most that are sired, end up dead. Only a Strigoi can tell you what happens during that passage between death and rebirth, and I’ll give you my right ear wax if you can find one agreeable to tell you.” Pelat left them to enjoy their meal.

  They were halfway through their brunch when Jessy obviously couldn’t contain herself any longer. “The victim, how…?”

  Raven held up his finger, swallowing a mouthful of heated curry. His voice a bit high pitched from the spices warming his throat.

  “His fingernails were dirty and stained with different colors, indicating he worked with some form of art. The fact that his arms were bare meant he was warmed up from the alcohol he’d consumed, which was cheap, stipulating he was young. Going on his thin frame, lack of nutrition and the dirt on his shirt along with his pants indicated he was a runaway. I saw no jacket lying around, and numerous prints in the snow indicating there were other people there. Luckily there was no fresh snowfall, thus placing the event sometime early this morning, most likely between the hours of four and six. The age is a guess. Forensics will confirm that when they hand us their findings.”

  Both fell silent after that, the tavern’s chatter becoming an uproar of drunken voices. A small quarrel had broken out, but since Raven didn’t bother to even look what it was about. Jessy kept to her food.

  Pelat came up to them, taking the bills as Raven held them out. “Could you provide us with the names of your Strigoi friends?” Raven asked as Pelat passed him the receipt.

  He pulled it back and wrote the information down, along with the vampires’ address and handed it to Raven.

  “Have a good day,” Raven said politely.

  “Till our paths meet again, my friend,” replied Pelat.

  Raven gave the receipt to Jessy as they walked out of The Drunken God. “Check the local blood bank and see if these two have acquired any blood in the last couple of months.” He knew the law regarding vampires and blood drinking. Hospitals had to keep records of the blood supplied to the wealthier vampires. The ones that couldn’t substituted with organic pig blood. Raven glanced at his watch.

  “I’m going to drop you off at the station. There’s someone I need to see, and I’m not sure how long it’s going to take, so do that bit of research I assigned you to,” he said with a smirk.

  “Okay, partner, you sure I can’t assist you? Is it another case you’ve been working on prior to me arriving this morning?”

  Her words sparked something else in Raven’s mind that he hadn’t thought of before.

  “No, this is personal, but I think the time will give you the chance to settle in and get your desk set up. Read through the previous cases I’ve worked on. The top ten should do. There aren’t many. Enforcers are still viewed in a bad light by supers and paras so it’s mostly missing person’s cases from concerned parents.”

  “Yet they like you.”

  “Indeed they do like me. Doesn’t mean they like what I do.”

  She scribbled her number on a piece of paper and placed it in the console for him.

  Raven tried to keep his mind blank on the way back to the station. The burning question was, should he just go talk to Niko or should he see Chetlér? Two people had warned him about the demon, but why remained unanswered, and Chetlér still owed him a fucking explanation for last night.

  Bla’Gar heard the car pull up on the gravel outside. He smelled the arousal faintly drifting through the air from the dungeon. Lucas and Seth might not be an instant love match, but Bla’Gar hoped, not only for Seth but for the benefit of the pack, that Lucas would at least give the Alpha a chance.

  An Alpha with a mate to support him was far stronger than one without. Maybe through their journey with each other Seth could learn to overcome the death of his mother and become the Alpha he was born to be.

  “The Alpha shouldn’t be taking a lead gamma as a mate. He would be much better suited with another or a Beta. There’s no way those two will last. My confidence in this pack and its Alpha has already been broken,” Méric, the second ranking gamma, growled pacing back and forth. All the Lycans currently under his roof were still considered pups with the exception of Lucas and Bruce, only two years away from their full maturity.

  Bla’Gar kept his voice calm, “That is your own undoing for judging your Alpha and this pack before even giving them the benefit of the doubt. Now, silence, you’re giving me a migraine. I swear it’s like looking after children!” Bla’Gar snapped and pinched the skin between his eyes, massaging it. He hadn’t had a migraine since he was human. He knew it was a side effect of venturing into Raven’s dreams. The constant dull pain was nothing in comparison to what he received in Hell, nothing more of an annoying ding in his head. “Niko, I believe it’s for you,” he said as the front door swung open.

  Bruce growled low as Niko sat up in his lap.

  “Easy, Bruce, it’s just Detective White. He only wants to speak to Niko. ”

  “The little sod Enforcer that was here last night? Bla’Gar, you should have let Lucas finish him—” Méric choked on his words when Bla’Gar’s hand clasped around the mutt’s throat, threw him to the floor and pinned him there. He could feel his human skin corroding off and the demon underneath peeling forth.

  “You watch what you say about that human, or I shall bring you endless suffering,” he growled into Méric’s face, his breath coming out in a red mist, blowing poison, while he spoke.

  From the corner of Bla’Gar’s gaze, Niko clutched Bruce’s arm tightly. Bla’Gar knew this was all new to the poor wolf, but Bruce would ease Niko’s fear, doing so by protectively wrapping his arms around the small pup, holding him close to his body.

  “Sorry, my apologies, Mr. Chetlér, if I have interrupted something.” The voice that spoke from the foyer made every muscle in Bla’Gar’s body tense. He stood; gaze trailing over the handsome enforcer’s lean build. He knew that much from what little of his pet he saw last night. The muscles on Raven’s legs were beyond well-defined. Most likely the man had participated in sport during his school career and maintained his physique thereafter.

  “You are not, Detective. Please feel free to use my study.” He pointed to a room across from them. Raven simply nodded and averted his eyes from Bla’Gar.

  Bla’Gar knew the cold shoulder from Raven was his own doing. Instead of smooth talking the human he would let him blow off steam for a couple of days, and then resume the hunt.

  “I also wish to speak to you, Mr. Chetlér.” Raven fumbled with his hand in his coat pocket, still not bringing his gaze to Bla’Gar. �
�Privately, please.”

  That brought a smile to Bla’Gar’s lips. Maybe the damage he’d done last night wasn’t as serious as he thought, or perhaps his appearance this morning helped. Then again kryptos could be so unpredictable.

  He stepped up to the detective and captured Raven’s chin between his fingers, tilting the man’s head up to gaze into those glacier blue eyes. “When you are done with Niko, I will be in the garden. Waiting.” He wanted to claim Raven’s lips but decided against it; the kiss this morning had definitely rattled the human. Bla’Gar moved past Raven and rounded the corner. His senses were heightened even above that of Lycans. He could hear the silent exhale of Raven’s breath, and the rhythm of the man’s quick beating heart as Bla’Gar walked into the kitchen. He smiled to himself, striding out into the sunlight. Even for a winter’s day it was gloriously beautiful. He chuckled when Raven sneeze.

  Raven rubbed his itching nose with a handkerchief. His eyes started to burn and his skin felt irritated, but it was his job and his own undoing. He never believed in taking conventional medicine for his allergies.

  He observed the Lycan sitting on the floor, his face distorted in pain, clasping his throat. Chetlér had him pinned when he’d walked in. Raven wished he knew what had been going on. All he had heard were the words “endless suffering.” He turned to the two in the corner seated on a high back chair, Niko almost engulfed protectively in the Lycan’s arms. The Lycan who had jumped him last night was large, but the one holding Niko, presumably Bruce, was monstrously big. Bruce’s eyes glowed a warm amber in warning.

  “Bruce,” Raven held out his hand but dared not approach. “Raven White.” He dropped his hand when Bruce didn’t offer his own, or make an effort to stand.

  “Would both of you please join me so I can speak to you? It’s a private matter concerning Niko’s mother.”

 

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