Supernatural Vigilante series Box Set

by D. R. Perry

  “You may enter.”

  I realize that the delayed wave is no big flub, thanks to my opera cloak. Nobody except maybe Maya would know I had to use an alternate gesture.

  Because of this, I don’t reach out to open the screen door on the gazebo, leaving that to Frankie. A chuckle from inside tells me exactly how this looks. Like my friend is somehow my servant. Maybe even a Renfield, which I still haven’t gotten around to asking about.

  But having help is better that than walking with an obvious handicap into a literal den of werewolves and hunters. Even though the gazebo’s neutral ground and I know almost everyone here by sight or better, it’s more than a little unsettling.

  “Fergus, good to be in your company again.” I grin and give the elderly werewolf a respectful nod. Yeah, he’s blind and can’t see it, but the rest of the folks do. And that matters. “And Kayleigh, Calvin. Nice to see you two.”

  “Likewise.” The old man smiles.

  A throat clears behind me.

  “Mr. Caprice.”

  “Thanks for inviting me, Valentino.”

  I can’t respond to that without sounding like an even bigger jerk than I already do. Instead, I just nod.

  “Now that everybody’s here, we can have our talk.” Fergus Fitzpatrick’s grin is appropriately wolfish.

  “So, what’s this about?” Kayleigh Killarney crosses her arms over her chest. This puts the firearms slung over each hip out of reach, but I happen to know she’s got sets of silver-tipped hickory stakes in arm holsters under her flannel shirt. That’s my ex, never defenseless.

  She’s looking me right in the eye, and her expression is all business. She’s waiting for my reply and disappointing her is a bad idea. As I open my mouth, Old Man Fitzpatrick speaks.

  “I want to propose a perpetual agreement between our families.”

  Kayleigh and Calvin grin, along with a woman who looks like Calvin but is a few years older. The werewolves do as well, and Sebastian joins them. I start to smile too until something stops me. No, it’s not my fangs. It’s that other f-word.

  “Family?” I blink, extending my hand back toward Frankie and Maya. “We vampires can’t exactly be defined by that term the way everyone else can.”

  “I’m not here to teach you vocabulary, Tino.” Old Man Fitzpatrick shakes his head. “But for all intents and purposes, you belong to a group that’s bound by duty and works together toward common goals.”

  “I guess.” I glance around. “But I’m still getting the feeling that one of these things is not like the other.”

  “Yeah, I’m not a vampire, for one.” Frankie clears his throat. “Or a magician.”

  “And I’m not a werewolf, young Master Pickering.” The figure on the other side of Fergus chuckles. It’s Scott’s mother. “Your point?”

  “Oh. Well, I guess I haven’t got one, then. Sorry.”

  “You come to this meeting with your domestic partner and your significant other and say you’re not like Miss Killarney or me?” The werewolf to Fergus Fitzpatrick’s right raises his eyebrow. Of course I know this guy. It’s Sean, Scott’s father.

  “Uh.” I glance at him and blink.

  “Okay, Mrs. Fitzpatrick. I’ll stop objecting, then.”

  “Good lad.” She grins like she’s about to serve everybody a plate of chocolate chip cookies. Which two of us can’t eat, so I’m glad when she doesn’t.

  “So, about this agreement. Why now?” Calvin leans against the wooden beam behind him.

  “We need an alliance to make sure things stay on the right path here in Rhode Island.” Fergus leans forward in his chair. “One solid enough so we can trust each other with,” he glances at me, “sensitive yet dire information.”

  “That’s not easy with my father in the picture.” Kayleigh sighs. “You know his views.”

  “And they’re outdated. We discussed this.” The third hunter tosses her head, her bobbed chestnut hair falling to the side to reveal a long, thin scar along the angle of one cheek.

  “Yes, and that’s why I’m here, Aileen.” Kayleigh glances down at the sparkling ring on her left hand. “Even after the wedding, I don’t think Dad will do things the Kelley way.”

  “It comes part and parcel with an alliance by marriage, though. He knew that before giving his blessing.”

  “He’s hardheaded.” Kayleigh sighs. “I’m not saying he’ll immediately go out and break any agreement, but he’s got other issues. Something that’s going to affect him over the long term. He might not be able to remember what’s in the past.”

  “If you’re talking about his diagnosis, don’t worry.” Fergus clears his throat, probably trying to cover the collective gasp coming from the hunter’s corner. “I’ve got my connections. And the right allies can help your father supernaturally.”

  “Ah. I understand.” I tilt my head. “Members of my, er, family have talents and connections in the memory retrieval department.”

  “Exactly.” Fergus’s smile is bright enough to rival the fairy lights he’s got illuminating the gazebo.

  Taking a few moments to mull everything over isn’t out of the ordinary during any negotiation. So I take advantage of the trope and stop to think. The first thing that comes to my mind is the fact that the only person I know who can reliably work with memories is Sebastian Caprice. And he’s not part of my family. And the second is the question Raven would ask.

  “What’s in it for us, then?”

  “We will help you with the investigation you discussed.” Fergus grins. “You’re not the only one with law enforcement connections.”

  “Okay.” I turn my head, glancing at Sebastian. “So, what about him? The Caprices haven’t always been the law-abiding type.”

  “I’ve got my own reasons for being here that have nothing to do with you, Tino.”

  “Let’s hear them.” Sean Fitzpatrick taps his foot.

  “Listen. You all want my family to go legit. I can make that happen, but not without help.” Sebastian gazes at his shoes. “New Lethians like me run out of energy. It’s something only time can change. But I want to be part of this, to help and do better.”

  “Really? Because—”

  “Let the kid ask for help.” Frankie’s hand on my elbow stops my impending tirade. I nod.

  “I’m going to need help from other magicians. More specifically, Sarah Pickering.” The boy’s high cheekbones redden.

  “Why my sister?” Frankie blinks.

  “That water magic of hers has energy compatible with mine, according to Doctor Maris.” Sebastian clears his throat. “With her help, I can keep working steadily instead of waiting weeks to make one little change.”

  “Rewriting personalities, you mean?”

  “No. It’s more like changing behavior.”

  “Like how you turned your father into a chain smoker?”

  “I didn’t do that. He’s stressed.”

  “This isn’t an interrogation room, Mr. Crispo.” Fergus Fitzpatrick drops this info like he means business. “Be reasonable.”

  “So, you want a superpowered study buddy. But that’ll be Sarah’s choice.”

  “I’m okay with that.” He nods, mouth a thin, pale line. “She can say no to begin with, and change her mind any time.”

  “Well, then I guess we’re cool for now.” I blink. “Sebastian.”

  “Thanks, Tino.”

  “So, can we all come together as a community for the greater good already?” I pull the notes I’ve collected out of my spacious opera cloak pocket. “There’s a problem I’m just undying to get your help with.”

  Side comments, snorts, coughs, and other assorted side noises ring in my ears. I manage to make out one whole comment in all the din. It’s Calvin Kelley.

  “Who turned this guy, Mister Rogers?”

  “He’s always been like this,” Kayleigh replies.

  When the crowd settles down, Mrs. Fitzpatrick carries around an old hidebound book. Its pages are lined with printed name
s, paired with signatures. Some of them are old enough to be behind glass in a museum, too.

  She brings it around to the hunters first. All three of them sign about halfway down the page.

  At the top of the page she holds out to Maya is a familiar name. Stephanie Vasílissa-Adelphi. Right under it is Edwin Tierney-McQueen, followed by Sasquatch. None of those were written or signed with a ballpoint pen, so they must be at least as old as Fergus Fitzpatrick. More recent entries include Doctor Maris and Raphael Paolucci.

  “I’m sure this isn’t much of a surprise.” She writes her first name, with her usual surname, Jones. After that, she adds a hyphen followed by DeCampo, then signs. Her next sentence answers my unspoken question about all the hyphenating. “I’m proud to list him as my sire.”

  “We’re in good company, Maya.” I point with the pen before going full John Hancock. Printing McQueen is way easier than signing it, but what do you expect on my first try?

  The hunters gasp when I pass the pen to Frankie. He pauses, his eyes moving from side to side like he’s watching a tennis match.

  “Has a Lamb ever signed something like this before?”

  “No.” Fergus gives the answer I didn’t have. “But there’s nothing to stop you if that’s your preference.”

  “Okay.”

  And just like that, Frankie makes history.

  If only it’ll stick.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Once they’ve all signed, Fergus Fitzpatrick gives me the floor. I launch into a brief description of my work on Maury’s investigation, stopping short of naming the suspect. Once that’s done, it’s time to ask the important question.

  “So, what kind of supernatural person commands folks with magical music, steals one personal item, and then leaves them with no memory?”

  Nobody answers, but I can practically hear the wheels turning in their minds as they mull it over.

  “Name those victims again?” Aileen’s forehead is all scrunched up. “A magician named Gertrude, Kayleigh, and who else?”

  “A psychic, and then this one I didn’t meet personally.” I read off the name. “Karen Battey. It says she lost a pair of earrings.”

  “I know Karen.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick nods. “She’s my cousin’s wife. Got a role in that production of Nine over at the Playhouse, but had to back out because she’s pregnant and will be showing by opening night.”

  “Oh. Then I did meet her.” And so did Zack. Shitballs. “Do you happen to know anything about her earrings?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact.” She looks confused. “They were my grandmother’s. One of the werewolves on my side of the family.”

  “And is Karen a werewolf too?”

  “No. My cousin is.”

  “I’ll bet my life the child she’s carrying will grow up to be a wolf. I believe I understand now.” Fergus tugs his beard. I know this means he’s not pleased with whatever he’s about to say. “The collector is a magician, gathering the makings of a spell.”

  “Um?” Sebastian raises his hand with a sheepish grin. “Over at Stout, they teach us that alchemists use chemistry-type ingredients in their magic.”

  “This collector probably isn’t an alchemist.” Frankie’s voice cracks, but at least it’s not shaky. “I grew up watching magicians do just about everything. And the only time they need a bunch of stuff with sympathetic connections is when they’re doing something big and collaborative.”

  “So, it’s a group of them?” Kayleigh rubs her upper arms like she’s caught a sudden chill.

  “I think not.” The voice comes from outside the gazebo. “May I enter?”

  “Step forward, Stephanie McQueen.”

  Old Man Fitzpatrick’s voice ushers her in. After that, I’m rushing to her side because she’s a total wreck.

  My sire looks like she’s been in trampled by thirty to forty feral hogs and then went on to have a steel cage match with a bear.

  I throw my opera cloak over her shoulders. It hangs down halfway past her thighs, which is good because she’s suffering an imminent wardrobe malfunction. Once her dignity is restored, she waves me away.

  “What happened?” Maya’s eyes are wide, the rest of her face blank. I can’t blame her. DeCampo was supposed to be with Stephanie. Raven too.

  “That’s not important.” Her voice rasps. She clears her throat, swallowing something I hope isn’t a chunk of ash. “It’s one magician. I know because he tried commanding the three of us. It worked on your sire,” she nods at Maya. “Tino, he took Raven’s Lazakhar.”

  “Shitballs.”

  “Is Raven—” Frankie’s eyes are red, a storm of tears threatening. “Are they—”

  Stephanie shakes her head. “Still with us. Barely. I left them at your Belfry.”

  “Who did this?” Frankie’s shaking like a pressure cooker about to explode. Which makes sense because Raven’s the loving older sibling he never had. The man has a long fuse, but this isn’t the first time it’s nearly reached Detonation Boulevard.

  Stephanie looks at me.

  It’s decision time. I could shrug or nod, give my sire a cue that I haven’t figured this out. She’d bear the bad news, and I’d come out of this smelling like a rose. Which I need to do if I still plan on asking for permission to turn Maury.

  Nobody’s privy to the case’s conclusion, not even Maya. None of them will blame me for making a mistake by insisting Zack was our ally, or not acting sooner. No one will know I’m lying.

  Except for me.

  I could fool everybody for a time, but I can’t fool myself. Growing up Roman Catholic made confession part of my nature. I’ll eventually go mad, keeping a secret like that. Because I can’t even take it to the grave, a plague for eternity. And if I use a lie now to turn Maury later and he ever finds out, he’ll never forgive me.

  Never is forever when you’re undead.

  “The magician’s a spell-singer,” I say. “The only one of his kind to have knowledge of and access to all the victims. It’s Zack Milano.”

  “Why?” Frankie’s hands are fists so tight they smell bloody. He reminds me of the time I saw The Running of the Bulls on TV. Pushed to the limit and seeing red.

  “I don’t know,” Stephanie answers. “But whatever spell he’s prepared, he’s casting it tonight. At the funeral home.”

  Frankie takes three steps before he’s blocked by Scott. He tries going around, but Sebastian’s smoky tendrils counter his evasion in a virtual game of “not touching you.”

  “Spell-singer?” Aileen reaches into a pouch on her utility belt. “Everybody needs earplugs to put on before we go inside.” She’s got little plastic baggies holding pairs of foam earplugs individually wrapped.

  “Except the vamps.” Kayleigh shakes her head. “No offense, but your hearing’s too good for those to block sound effectively.”

  “None taken.” Stephanie shudders. “I have my own ways of resisting.”

  “You’re in no shape to go back into the fray, Miss Stephanie.” Fergus Fitzpatrick shakes his head.

  “All the same, I must.”

  “Let us handle it, Steph.”

  “You’re not ready for this fight, Tino.”

  “Ready or not, fate always seems to have me up against Zack Milano for something or other.” I shrug. “You believe in fate, right?”

  “You can’t win this battle.” Stephanie closes her eyes. “He’s got a ring full of powder and is controlling King DeCampo.”

  “Been there. Fought that. Lost an arm.” The sound I make is somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. “It can’t get much worse, right?”

  “What’s to stop him from using that to control you?”

  “I happen to know that stuff doesn’t work too great on younger vamps like me.” I point at my prosthetic. “I’ve already had the chance to diminish the returns.”

  “All the same, I ought to be there.”

  “Why?”

  “This is too important. He’s trying to end the world.” When St
eph’s eyes open, they’re too shiny, and also red. Like she’s fighting tears.

  “Well, that sounds pretty serious. Like you could die if you go and fight him the way you are now.”

  “This world is worth my giving up eternity.”

  “Let’s say we agree to disagree on that.” I take her hand. “Living forever without garlic scares the crap out of me. You actually like it. More reasons for me to go do this and give you a break.”

  She squeezes my hand. The hunters and werewolves watch this entire exchange, the latter nodding and clenching their jaws while the former blink and stare.

  “Maya, talk some sense into him, please.”

  “Sure thing.” She ruffles my hair. “You’re right, Tino. Stephanie has to stay here.” She turns to Mrs. Fitzpatrick. “Since we’re allies, can you arrange a ride for Stephanie to Kent County Hospital? She needs medical attention from Doctor Maris, I believe.”

  “I’ve already called a Swyft.” Stephanie holds up the phone I insisted she get. Thank God.

  “I can do something else.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick stands on her toes to whisper something into her husband’s ear. He nods, then approaches.

  “You will have our help. Jackie and Scott will go with you.”

  “Ours too.” Aileen’s offer comes out of left field. “It’s sort of our job to negate threats like this, but you’re taking point because you know the enemy best.”

  I’m blinking at Kayleigh as she stands shoulder to shoulder with her fiancé and future sister-in-law. She rolls her eyes but I catch the slight grin on her usually grave face.

  “Wow. Thanks, everybody, for having our backs like this.”

  Something nags at the back of my mind. It’s about the funeral. I pull the flier from my parents’ door out of my pocket.

  “Shitballs.”

  “What’s wrong?” Scott’s stepping up beside me, one of his arms looped around Frankie in a hold-back posture. Sebastian flanks them. They all peer at the paper with me, faces going slack. I read it out loud.

  “With a special musical tribute by Zack Milano and two of Stout Academy’s best Drama Club students.”

  “That’s Sarah.” Sebastian loosens his grasp on Frankie.