Mortal Imperative: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 24)

by R. L. King

  “Yeah…” Verity murmured. She sat up straighter in her seat. “What about blackmail?”

  “But what would they—” Stone stopped, tensing. “Wait. You might be on to something.” He jerked a quick look at her. “What if someone found out what they were, and threatened to reveal the colony’s existence if they didn’t play along?” He squeezed the wheel tighter again. It definitely fit the parameters.

  “That makes sense,” she agreed. “But…why? What would whoever this is want with three ghouls? Do you think it’s because they are ghouls, or because they’re those three specific people? You said one of them was a doctor…”

  Stone sighed. “I’ve got no idea. Speculating much further won’t get us anywhere without more facts. Hold on.” He dug in his pocket for his phone and shifted his attention between the road and the screen until he found Grider’s number in his contacts. He put it on speaker and stuck it in the cupholder while it rang.

  “Yeah?” came Grider’s voice almost immediately.

  “Mr. Grider. Stone here. We’re on our way to Tennessee.”

  “Did you find anything?” he demanded.

  “Not yet. But I’ve got a question for you.”

  “I’ve told you pretty much all I know.”

  “We’ve got a new hypothesis. Has anyone new interacted with anyone in the colony in the past couple of weeks?”

  “New? You mean…new members?”

  “I mean anyone. I know you don’t get together frequently, but can you remember anyone mentioning it? Ask Laura, too.”

  “Hang on.” The sound of the phone being put down was followed by muffled conversation, and then he was back a few moments later. “Laura says she doesn’t know of anybody, and I don’t either. What are you gettin’ at?”

  “We were just…speculating a bit as we were driving, trying to figure out why your friends might want to leave without a trace, and who might be convincing them to do it.”

  “So you think somebody from the outside talked to them? How would they know? We don’t exactly spread around what we are. We all know better than that.”

  “I’m sure you do. But if someone were to find out, it could lead to blackmail, right?”

  There was a pause. “I…guess it could. But it doesn’t make sense. First of all, Orville and Chris aren’t rich. None of us are. Orville’s got a little put away, but not enough that a blackmailer would be interested. Same with Laura and me, and a few others. And I’m pretty sure that Maisie kid’s poor as a churchmouse.”

  “Hmm…” Stone watched the road as he thought. “Yes, that doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it? I can’t think of any other reason why anyone might want…” He stopped as a sudden idea struck him. “Oh, bloody hell…”

  “What?” Grider and Verity demanded at the same time.

  He didn’t answer right away, turning the idea over in his head before giving it voice. Finally, he said slowly, “This is probably absurd, but I’m wondering…we know it’s difficult to capture ghouls, right?”

  “Yeah,” Grider said. “You remember that fight from before—you pretty much have to cut our heads off or blow us up to kill us. Otherwise we regenerate eventually. We’re not as strong as those guys out in Santa Cruz, but still…yeah. Why? What are you gettin’ at?”

  He looked at Verity, then back at the road. “I’m just wondering…if someone wanted them for some reason of their own, but weren’t confident they could gain their cooperation by force, they could do worse than threaten to reveal what they know to the world.”

  “But…why would they want them?” Grider sounded confused. “Even if they knew what we are, what difference would it make? I mean, I can’t imagine anybody would want to get themselves bitten or scratched. Trust me, this isn’t the kind of life you choose—at least not unless you’ve got no other choice.”

  A chill went through Stone as another potential puzzle piece fell into place. “That’s…a good point,” he said. “We’ll keep working on it, and let you know if we find anything. Thank you, Mr. Grider. Give my best to Laura.”

  “Stone—”

  Stone tapped the button to break the connection before the man could say anything else. For several moments, he didn’t speak.

  “Doc?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Doc, what’s going on?” Verity twisted in her seat again. “You might be able to fool him, but you can’t fool me. You just had another idea, didn’t you?”

  “I…did.”

  “Want to share?”

  He took a deep breath, hoping he was wrong. “Mr. Grider is…a unique individual. As I mentioned, he used to be a police detective in Palo Alto, ten years ago. When I met him, he was getting ready to retire. It’s a cliché, I know, but it’s true.”

  “Okay…”

  “He also had a slow-growing, inoperable brain tumor.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yes. His plan was to hide it from his superiors for as long as he could still do his job, and hope he could finish out his last few months before it took its toll.”

  “Obviously that didn’t happen, since he’s still around ten years later. Wait a sec—he said something about regenerating. And about getting bitten or scratched. Are you telling me somebody can get turned into a ghoul?”

  Stone didn’t miss the apprehension in her voice. “Yes.”

  “And…he chose to?”

  “No. He didn’t choose it. He was scratched during the fight out in Santa Cruz. At first, he was devastated. He even contemplated suicide before the effect took hold.”

  “But…he changed his mind.”

  “Yes. Laura, who later became his wife, talked him out of it. She’d experienced the same thing, when her first husband was killed by the semi-ferals. She considered the same thing he did, but waited too long. When she tried slashing her wrists, the damage healed.” Stone spoke soberly, the details of the horrific time coming back to him as if they’d happened last week.

  Verity didn’t reply; when he looked over at her, she was watching him with big, shocked eyes.

  “I know,” he said. “None of this is pretty. Laura—she was Laura Phelps at the time—is a devout Christian woman. She had a difficult time coming to terms with what she was. But she was able to convince Grider that living is better than dying…and Dr. Lu explained to him that becoming a ghoul had at least one positive side effect.”

  “The tumor.”

  “Yes. It disappeared shortly after he completed his transformation. I lost track of them after that. They didn’t remain in the Bay Area very long. They didn’t tell me where they went, and I didn’t ask. The only thing I heard from them since then was a single letter from Laura, telling me they were settled in their new home and that she and Grider had become friendly. I didn’t make any effort to learn anything else.”

  “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t think they wanted me to…and…to be honest, the whole concept unsettled me. They’re fine people, but I was glad to have the whole thing behind me.”

  “I guess I can’t blame you for that. But you still haven’t told me what your thought was.” She paused. “Wait—are you saying maybe somebody like Grider, with some kind of incurable disease, found out about the ghouls and want to use them to fix it?”

  “That’s one possibility, certainly. We might find the whole idea distasteful, but who’s to say how that might change when forced to face our own mortality?”

  “Not sure that’s an issue for you anymore,” she said dryly. “But yeah—I can see that. Or maybe even more so if it’s not me specifically, but someone I love.” She drew a sharp breath. “I don’t even know what kind of crazy chances I might take if something like that happened to Jason.”

  Stone gave a sober nod. “Yes, exactly. If someone were put in such a position, they might see it as a viable option.”

  “But…why not just ask the ghouls?”

  “First of all, I doubt they’d agree. The so-called civilized ghoul colonies are highly in
sular. They deal with their unique affliction as best they can, but they don’t go out looking for recruits. In fact, they actively avoid trying to grow.”

  “Hmm,” she said, nodding. “But something’s not making sense.”

  “What?”

  “Why blackmail three of them? If I wanted to get scratched and become a ghoul to cure some disease, I’d probably just try to lure one of them off somewhere. Does the process take a long time?”

  “Not particularly. Once someone’s scratched, the transformation process takes a couple of days. And I suppose there’s some time after that for acclimation.”

  “Acclimation?”

  “Yes. I don’t know the details—I didn’t ask—but my impression from talking to them is that if a new ghoul is given food right away after the transformation and one or more other ghouls help them through it, they become civilized. If they’re bitten or scratched and go through the process on their own, without having their hunger sated right away, they’re likely to become feral.”

  “What’s the difference? Aside from the obvious, I mean.”

  “The ferals are mostly mindless. Again, I don’t know the details, but I believe if they’re not fed and helped through the process, something changes in their physiology. It might have something to do with eating prepared food versus killing a live person. Their higher mental faculties are destroyed, their senses and strength are heightened even more, and they’re compelled to hide themselves. Those are the ones who rob graves. It can also happen to a civilized ghoul later on, if they’re deprived of flesh for long enough. It’s something that frightens all of them, and why they’re so careful to make sure everyone in the colony is supplied with what they need before the hunger has a chance to take hold.”

  “What about the ones you talked about before? The semi-ferals?”

  “No one is certain, since they were unique. The ghouls’ speculation is that they were initially on their way to becoming civilized, but something interrupted the process halfway. They retained more of their intelligence, but ended up with a stronger drive for fresh kills.”

  She shuddered. “I’m glad they’re not around anymore.”

  “As you should be. They were highly efficient killing machines without consciences. But let’s get back to your question, which is a good one: why would they seek out three ghouls rather than just one?”

  Verity remained silent, thinking.

  Stone thought too. Her words had touched off an idea in the back of his mind, but it kept skating away when he tried to pin it down. He was certain the answer lay in the specific nature of the person or people responsible for luring off the ghouls. If they were blackmailing all three of them, or had some other compelling argument to convince them to leave, why would they do it? Was his initial thought—that they wanted to use the ghouls’ regenerative abilities to cure someone of a disease or injury—correct? If not, what other type of people might want to—

  “Doc?”

  His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. “Gods…”

  “What?”

  He glanced at her. “I just had a rather terrifying thought. What if they’re not looking to be afflicted, either them or a loved one? What if their plans are a little more in your direction?”

  “My direction? What do you mean by that?”

  “Alchemy.”

  She went silent for several seconds, then blew out a loud blast of air. “Oh my God…that makes sense too. You think they want to…what…harvest their blood? Their body parts?”

  “It makes sense, doesn’t it? You know more about alchemy than I do, but we already know using blood from a shifter—or a mage—can have profound effects if the alchemist is skilled enough. Do you think blood or tissue from a creature that can regenerate damage like a ghoul might prove a potent ingredient for an alchemist with no scruples?”

  “Yeah…” she whispered. “Yeah, I’m sure it could. I don’t know what, exactly, but it definitely makes sense. And that could explain why they wanted more than one ghoul—so they could experiment with different mixtures.”

  He frowned. “Would that matter? A ghoul’s a ghoul, presumably.”

  “Maybe. You might be right. But a mage isn’t a mage. Remember Whitworth? His blood didn’t work for what he wanted to do because he wasn’t powerful enough, but yours did. And there are all kinds of other factors that might matter too—blood type, sex, age…”

  “That’s a damned good point. Lu’s quite a bit older than Belmont…and Maisie is female. So…they grabbed a selection?”

  “Who knows? It’s a good thought, but like you said, we’re just speculating. We’ve taken things pretty far along without any concrete facts.”

  He chuckled. “I’m glad to see you were listening to something I was banging on about when you were my apprentice.”

  “Every now and then. But don’t get a big head about it.” She sobered. “So what do we do?”

  “Same thing we were planning to do before: re-do the ritual and try finding them. If we can get them out of there without tipping off whoever’s got them—assuming anyone’s got them at all, of course, since it’s still remotely possible they did nip off on their own for some reason we’ve got no idea about—they might be able to shed some more light on the situation.”

  She settled back in her seat, staring out the window at the lights flashing by on the freeway. “And…what then?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well…if somebody did grab them…if they are blackmailing them…then what’s to stop them from revealing what they know if we rescue the ghouls?”

  Stone had already been thinking about that. “I’ll have to deal with them before they have a chance to do that, then, won’t I?”

  “We will,” she said firmly. “Don’t try to keep me out of this, Doc.”

  He reached across to grip her shoulder. “I wouldn’t do that. Not anymore. I’d definitely welcome the backup, but I’d never presume to volunteer you for something like this.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Her voice was soft, and laced with amused fondness. “And I appreciate that. But I wouldn’t miss this. You created a monster, and now you have to put up with me.”

  11

  It was fully dark by the time they arrived at their destination an hour later. They’d left the freeway a while ago, following a winding, meandering two-lane road through a series of small towns. Eventually, the towns grew smaller and further apart until finally Stone pulled into a gas-station parking lot.

  “This is it?” Verity looked around. “Looks pretty remote.”

  “It does—but I suppose that makes sense. They wouldn’t want to do this in the middle of a big city.” Stone consulted his map, comparing it with his notes about where the ritual’s reach had faded. He had a paper map, mindful of Jason’s warning about using his own phone. “It’s around here somewhere. We should be able to do the ritual from any location—I don’t think they’re far away, so it shouldn’t be out of my range.”

  “Where, though? They’re gonna look at you funny if you start drawing magic circles at the gas station, and I didn’t see any motels around here, did you?”

  “I…did not.” Stone pondered. It was always a consideration when doing rituals like this: they took a certain amount of space, usually larger than a typical motel room provided.

  “I guess we could do it outside. The weather’s pretty mild, and there’s not much wind.”

  “I suppose.” Stone didn’t like the idea—too hard to keep random passersby from snooping, and Murphy’s Law meant there were always random passersby. “Let’s drive around a bit, though. Maybe we can find a place to…borrow.”

  Verity was right—the tiny town didn’t have any motels. What it did have in relative abundance, though, was churches. Stone consulted his map again and drove off without a word. A short distance out of town, he spotted what he was looking for: a small church set in a thick grove of trees at the top of a hill. He turned off the main road and drove up the narro
w lane snaking up toward it.

  “You’re gonna do a ritual to locate ghouls at a church.” Verity chuckled. “Is that even allowed?”

  “Allowed by whom? Presumably the church people wouldn’t approve, but we’ll be out of here soon and leave no trace.”

  She pointed up. “They weren’t who I was talking about.”

  “If he wants to get shirty about it, he can take it up with me after I’ve finished. Besides, our hearts are in the right place. We are trying to help someone, after all.”

  Her chuckle turned to a laugh. “I think we need to have a theology discussion sometime, Doc.”

  He didn’t answer. He drove the car around the back of the church where it wouldn’t be visible from the road. No lights glowed inside and no other cars were in the small parking lot—at least they hadn’t arrived in the middle of a service.

  A quick check with magical sight revealed no auras nearby, so Stone retrieved his ritual materials and the tether objects from the back seat and motioned for Verity to follow him.

  “What do you want me to do?” She kept watch as he popped the lock to the back door and pushed it open. They followed a hallway past the main sanctuary and found a multi-purpose room with a cleared floor, perfect for their purposes.

  “Help me draw the circle.” Stone glanced around, taking in the folded tables and chairs pushed against the walls, the floors scuffed by hundreds of feet, the hangings and children’s drawings, and the faint lingering aroma of countless urns of coffee and potluck suppers. An aura of peace and contentment enfolded the place like a gentle cloud. The people who attended and maintained this church obviously cared deeply for it. “Then, just—keep an eye out. Make sure no one shows up. If they do, use an illusion or something so they won’t see us.”

  “You don’t want me to do one of the rituals? Might be faster.”