by J. L. Murray
“Did you peer into my soul to find that?” I said.
“No,” he said. “I didn't have to.” I looked at his face. His eyes shifted.
“I miss him, Sam,” I said. “I barely know him but I miss him.”
“It's a frustrating feeling,” he whispered. He looked over at Gage, who was talking to Janis. Janis suddenly laughed raucously. “Where is Mr. Cooper?” Sam said.
“Eli?” I said. I took a swig of whiskey. “He's off to say his goodbyes. He's going back to Hell. Imagine, someone going to Hell on purpose.”
“Everyone that goes to Hell does it on purpose,” he said. “It's all intention. Even the afterlife.”
“He wanted to marry me,” I said. “Take me back with him.”
“What was your answer?” he said.
“Take a wild guess.” I took a drink. “He was angry.”
“He was hurting,” said Sam. “It was different for him. Anyone could see that he loved you.”
“Did you look inside him?” I said.
“No, but I saw you together. He would have done anything for you.”
“I don't know,” I said. “Maybe I'm not capable of love anymore. I used it all up. Maybe I let the world change me. Maybe I'm just a cold thing now.”
“No,” said Sam.
I remembered something Natalie said. “My sister,” I said. “She was half crazy, but she saw things. She could hear thoughts and see things before they happened. She said there would never be anyone for me. Do you think that's true?”
“Perhaps,” he said. “Would it bother you?”
“Shouldn't it?”
“It would bother most people,” Sam said. “But I think it's a relief to you.”
“Relief?”
“Yes. How do you feel about not having to worry about Mr. Cooper? About not being responsible for him?”
“I feel sad for him.”
“Besides that,” said Sam. “Dig deeper.”
I looked at him and frowned. “Honestly?” I said. Sam nodded. “I feel lighter. Like he was a weight on my shoulders. Does that make me a bad person?”
“No,” he said. “Only practical.” He leaned forward. “I know you won't listen, Niki, but I would ask you a personal favor.”
“Yeah?”
“Stay away from The Blood.”
“You know I can't promise that,” I said. “Why? Don't tell me they're connected to you, too.”
“Of course not. I find them repugnant. I only worry, that's all.”
I smiled. “You're worried?” I said. “About me?”
“I always worry for you, Niki,” he said. “You always seem to get into the most delicious trouble. But this time, the trouble may be more than you can handle.”
“No matter what I do, they're trying to kill me,” I said. “I'm not going to wait around for that.”
“I could protect you,” said Sam. “For what it's worth.”
“Thanks,” I said. “But I'm going to have to deal with this.”
“This is more dangerous than anything you've done in the past,” said Sam. “You know that, don't you?”
“Well, I guess you might have some more stalking to do,” I said.
Chapter 15
Waking up in my own bed seemed strange. After the events of the last few days, the silence of my own apartment made me uncomfortable. I started the coffee and showered and dressed. I turned on the television, bracing myself for more bad news. I wasn't disappointed.
A perky blonde woman with a wide smile and terrified eyes was sitting behind the anchor desk. Her cleavage jiggled as she spoke. “...and Congressman Dorrance is firm in his belief that the American citizens will be much safer after the arrests are completed. Abnormals on the Registry are encouraged to turn themselves in before the police scour the city. Homes and property will go towards beautifying the city. In other news...”
I clicked off the television and looked at my jacket, draped over the back of a kitchen chair. I reached in the pocket and pulled out the vial and sat down on the couch. I stared into it, turning it this way and that. It was metallic, almost. There was a sheen to it that my eyes couldn't understand. It made me dizzy to look at it. I thought of what Natalie had said. Don't let them smell it. Sam had smelled it right away. I closed my eyes, feeling the heat of the vial in my hand. Hotter than touching Sam. Natalie had been cryptic, but she seemed to be certain I'd need this stuff. And for some reason it had made her sad. I sat up. I couldn't think about it right now. I went to the kitchen to look for the duct tape.
I was just putting the tape and sewing kit away when there was a knock at the door. Probably Gage. I opened the door to find a tall, wide man with black hair graying at his temples. A tattoo crawled up his neck and a fading cross was tattooed on the back of one hand, which he held in front of him. It was an odd stance, but I recognized it. Men had approached my father like this when I was a child. It was meant as a gesture of respect.
“Miss Slobodian,” he said. “So good to finally meet you.” He pronounced 'good' as 'hood.' His accent was old Ukrainian, like my father's. Like Naz. Not the harder Russian accent like a lot of the men that had worked for them. His voice was soft, hardly above a whisper. But he didn't seem like the kind of man that had to raise his voice to be heard.
“Who are you?” I said, suddenly aware how stupid it was to not be wearing my gun to the door. I glanced at the kitchen table, where I usually left it. It wasn't there. I must have taken it off in my bedroom the night before.
“You don't need your gun,” he said. “Although, I am surprised you are answering door without it. Dorrance wants you dead. I am Yuri. Yuri Polzin.”
“Polzin?” I said. “Like Naz?”
“He is — was — my cousin. May I come in?”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to size him up. He might be here to kill me. But if that were true, he could have done it by now. My building wasn't exactly the kind of place where people talked to the police. He would probably get away with it.
He held up his hands. “I promise, I will not hurt you,” he said. “I only wish to talk.”
“Fine,” I said, swinging the door open. “My partner will be here any second, though.”
“Big magic man with the books?” he said, as he passed. He sat down on the couch. “He does not frighten me.” Yuri was so big he practically took up the whole couch.
“You want coffee?” I said. Despite the company my father kept, Sofi had taught me manners.
“Thank you,” he said. “Black.”
I brought him the steaming cup and sat down in Sofi's rocker. “So why haven't you killed me?” I said.
He smiled and was surprisingly handsome. “I knew your father, you know,” he said.
“Doesn't surprise me. Lots of people knew my father.”
“I was rotting in a Russian prison,” he said. “Let me show you something,” he said, standing and pulling his shirt up to reveal his chest. He was barrel-chested and had a slightly soft belly, though I could see that he was very strong. He was covered in tattoos that were riddled with scars. I saw two bullethole scars on his side, just above his hip. The rest appeared to be knife wounds. The most noticeable thing about his midsection, though, was an intricate tattoo of a large cathedral in the Russian style with the virgin Mary holding a baby in the forefront.
“It's beautiful,” I said.
He smiled. “You see the spires? The towers in the cathedral?” He pointed to the top of his chest. I counted eleven spires. “One for every year in prison,” he said. “Russian prisons are worse than Hell. I would choose to die over going back.” He pulled his shirt down. “They say, when a man goes away to a place like that, he cannot ever get out again. When he does get out, it is temporary. He will go back. I am put there for life. No chance for even temporary release. Do you understand this?”
“Why are you telling me this?” I said.
“Your father. Sasha. He gets me out. He got us all out. Brought us here for a second chance. This w
as the condition that he went to work for The Blood.”
“The money didn't hurt either,” I said.
“The money, yes,” he said. “Many of us didn't own shoes when we came. Men would buy expensive clothes, cars, women. They spend all their money, just so they could know what it felt like. They buy nice things because they had lived with nothing. We take turns sleeping in prison, on beds with lice and bugs. The rest of us stand, huddled in a cold room scratching the bites. Not enough beds, too many men. The stink was the worst part.”
“What's your point?” I said.
“Your father was a good man,” he said.
“I know that now,” I said.
“You don't, I think,” he said. “You met The Morrigan, yes?”
“Her name is Natalie,” I said. “If she's still alive.”
“Yes, Natalie. Is horrible what they do to her.” He took a sip of coffee. “She was not the first, though.”
“What do you mean?”
He frowned. His eyebrows were bushy and graying at the tips. “They do this thing before. Not to a child. To your father. They want to see how much someone could build tolerance for angelwine, yeah? They tell him that they send us all back if he doesn't do it. So he does it. He is crazy for a while. Scary. He went to see you one day. Dorrance did not want him to go, but Sasha told him that if he lost his family, he would lose himself. So Dorrance, he convinces Sasha to take his dose before he goes. He was burning up, he was so hot. It was the most I've ever seen a man take. Six drops. Is too much. But Sasha controlled it, he was strong. He went to see you. And when he came back, he said he didn't care what they did to him, he wouldn't take the angelwine anymore.”
“I remember,” I said. “He smelled like a fireplace that day. He hit me so hard I didn't get up for a day. Then I didn't see him again for a month.”
“Sasha is a good man,” he said. “His problem is that he goes into things without being prepared.” He raised a bushy eyebrow. “You are much like your father. You are like a man of action, that does not think before jumping into the tiger's den.”
“Is this your way of trying to convince me not to go after Dorrance?” I said.
“You are Sasha Slobodian's daughter,” he said. “Naz loved you like family. You killed the men that killed Naz. I have great respect for you.” He set his mug on the table. “I do not convince you not to do this thing. I convince you to let me help you.”
My surprise must have been priceless, because Yuri laughed again. “This thing you do last night in the vault building, no one has ever done. The men are afraid of you. That is good. They hate Dorrance. They do not like what he does with the child. With the angel. Very superstitious. Money is no longer enough for them. They are men of loyalty again. When Sasha went away, they were happy to follow Naz. Naz was family. But now both are gone. They would follow me, but I am no leader. If I tell them to follow you, they will do this. Dorrance told them they will not follow any other leaders, only him. The Blood.”
“I appreciate the offer,” I said, “but I'm not Sasha. I don't work well with criminals.”
He smiled. “You do not see it,” he said. “You are a criminal. You are one of us.”
“No, I'm not,” I said.
“You killed those men. It was for a good and clean reason. You honor my family. That is not why. But of course we are all criminals now. It is all over the news. ”
“Thank you for coming,” I said, standing up. I suddenly wanted to be alone again.
He shrugged his big shoulders, and stood to go. “You will think about it, I know this. When you are ready, you will call me.” He placed a card onto the table. “Thank you for the coffee. You wear your gun next time.”
I knew he was right. I knew the instant he said it. I was one of them. I was a killer. I liked to think I was better, that there were good reasons for what I did, but the fact was that I'd killed ruthlessly on more than one occasion. I barely gave it a thought anymore. Just pulled the trigger. I'd become exactly what Sofi feared Sasha would make me. I was just like my father.
But Sasha and I, and Naz, had our own reasons for what we had done. We did these things for our families. I had become just like my father, and yet it turned out to be good and honorable. Clean, as Yuri said. The Blood was not. Whatever we had done, The Blood had done much worse. They needed to be stopped. They made people disappear. They bought babies to make into monsters. They stole the blood from an angel. And they now had a chokehold on the city. My city. How long would it be until Dorrance's policies went worldwide?
I needed to stop them. Then I'd be done. Just this last thing and I'd put my guns away. I'd finish this and then maybe Sofi and I could move to the country. Maybe go to Karen's house. It was better than staying in the city. If I stayed, I would become worse than Sasha. At least he'd started for noble reasons. I would just become a pissed off Abby with a gun.
I tried to call Gage, but got voicemail. I started to dial Eli, before remembering. I put my phone back in my pocket. The world seemed a strange place. No Eli, no Sasha, no Naz. I took out my phone again and called Sofi at Karen's house. No answer there either. I left a message to tell Sofi that I was all right and hung up. I holstered my guns and was out the door.
I stepped out into the midst of the gray cloud of spirits. I took a long breath and started wading my way through them. There were even more than the previous day. I couldn't see a foot in front of my face. I made my way toward where I thought my car was parked, not looking at the dead eyes that passed around and through me. My stomach clenched when they touched me but I ignored it. When the firm hands grabbed my arms, I jumped. They were warm in the ocean of cold death.
“Hey!” I yelled. There were two men on either side of me. They wore dark suits and sunglasses, even though the day was dark and rainy. They were both a good foot taller than me. I tried to reach for my gun, but they held my arms tight. They were so much stronger than me. “Let me go!” I screamed. The ghosts, one by one, took notice of me. They began lurching towards me, their hands grasping at me, at the men, trying to clasp at something real. The men took no notice, but the sudden surge of hands inside me made me double over.
“Knock it off,” said one of the men. His grip tightened on me. “He just wants to talk to you.”
I fought the urge to vomit, then croaked, “Who?” But they were pushing me into a car and the door closed behind me. The clammy hands disappeared and I caught my breath. I was sitting in the backseat of a large car, the warm smell of leather strong. A thin woman with her hair pulled tight from her face sat across from me. She had a large leatherbound book in her lap. A casting book. She arched a penciled eyebrow at me. A man sat next to her. I recognized him.
“Dorrance,” I said. He smiled a charming, slimy smile. I could feel the weight of the Makarov on my hip, the little derringer cool against my calf. There was something weird about Dorrance's face. “You going to magic me? I think I could kill you before you could even open your mouth.” I was acutely aware of the bulge sewn into my jacket, burning hot against my back.
“I don't think you could,” he said, in a clipped British accent, and he lifted his hand. He was holding something that was almost like a gun. “Tranquilizer gun,” he said. “It's quite strong stuff. I'm told they use it on lions. You didn't think we'd kill you, did you? Of course we'd let you live.”
“Why?” I said. I looked at the woman who gazed back at me smugly.
“We are quite sure that you will be quite cooperative. You wouldn't want that sweet godmother of yours to disappear,” he said. He smiled again, small white teeth gleaming. “And everyone else you've ever cared about.”
I looked at him. I couldn't panic. I forced myself to stay cool. “You have Sofi?” I said.
“No, no,” he said smoothly. “Not yet. But we know where she is. It would be an easy thing.” I relaxed slightly. “But we do have someone you know. ”
I frowned. “Who?”
“Mr. Robert Gage,” he said. “He doesn't pu
t up much of a fight, does he?”
My hand moved involuntarily to my hip. There was a blur and suddenly Dorrance wasn't across from me, he was beside me, with his arm around my shoulders. “I wouldn't do that if I were you, Niki,” he said softly in my ear. His fingers dug into my shoulder like a vise. “Calm yourself or we'll make you disappear as well. You don't want Sofi to carry that burden, do you? It would surely kill her. Her health has been quite poor lately, hasn't it?” He put his face near my neck and inhaled. “Oh, there is something about you. Like spiced wine, you are.” He laughed into my ear and I felt my stomach lurch. He literally made me sick. “Your father smelled of spice, too, though not nearly as strong.”
I felt my nostrils flare. I tried to stay calm. I wanted to drive an elbow right into those white teeth, to drive a fist into that pasty face. I thought of Bobby, though and I forced myself to be still. “Why are you doing this?” I said.
“You've made things difficult for me, Niki. And I don't just mean recently. No matter what I do, it seems you're just around the corner.”
“I didn't even know about you until a few days ago,” I said.
“Yes, well, my organization is very exclusive,” he said. “I had a perfect subject with Sasha, until he went to see you. He was never the same after that. Stopped taking his doses, started asking questions. Though I suppose I should thank you for stopping him before he came for me.”
“He would have killed you,” I said. “He's much more powerful than you know.”
“Yes, until you killed him. And now he can't hurt me.”
I laughed, unable to stop myself. “Sasha's not dead,” I said.
He hesitated. “Of course he is, don't be stupid.”
“You think someone like me can kill Sasha Slobodian?” I said. “He lived through Hell. He's coming back for you.” I didn't know if it was true, but it felt good to say. I could feel Dorrance's breath quicken for a second. His fingers tightened even more on my shoulder. I gasped. It felt as though he could crush my shoulder if he wanted to. The angelwine made him strong.