The condo held all of my furniture and belongings. He placed the key to the condo in my hand.
"How did you do this?" I inquired, taking it all in.
"You were at Z Station for hours," Johnny explained. "I had my money guy approach the owners of your building and we bought everything. You still own your co-op. You just can't reside there, because of their silly bylaws."
I turned to Johnny and threw my arms around him. "Thank you," I whispered into his chest. Then I pulled back, slightly embarrassed.
"Hey, look at me," Johnny said brightly. "Two hugs from two pretty ladies in one day. I am doing all right for myself."
"So, am I another orphan to add to your collection?" I said.
"No. You are family. I think you always were. Live here, so I can protect you. I have a gymnasium in the building. Janvier makes the most use of it. I will add whatever equipment you need for your training. You are very important and you have been a loyal supporter from day one. It is my privilege and duty to have you here."
"Okay," I said. "You had me at gym."
"I know you probably want to get settled in, but can you do me a favor? Herbert is waiting for you at his place. I am going to have a car take you there. I need you to work with him intensively. If we can rid the world of this horde frequency, we'll all be better off. I have some business to tend to, but when I get back, we'll have a drink in front of the fireplace and we'll talk more."
"I'd like that," I said.
17.
Native Soil
The creatures gathered around the great coffin in the sewer. Their master had sent them to the scene of the battle in the tunnel to fetch it shortly after his fiery arrival. They had done so, and then set an altar of worship on a concrete walkway.
The monsters were referred to as Mermen. They didn't have the capacity to correct this label, but had they, they would have explained that they weren't creatures of the ocean. They had been conceived in dark swamps and sewers. They were scaly, green/gray savages with the face of a piranha and a humanoid body. They were vicious and lethal creatures.
What they lacked- what they always lacked- was direction. They had existed quietly in the bowels of the city before the master came. They fed on vermin and the occasional city worker. And when they weren't scouting for a good meal, they fought amongst themselves.
When they had tucked Master's near dead body into his box and set him on the sewer platform, they longed to hear his voice inside their feeble minds. Occasionally, a rational thought from Master lit in their brains. But usually delirious and chaotic flashes of the great battle assaulted them. They would wait, days at a time, for his guidance. Clarity was brief, and he would later return to their minds a confused and frightened thing, demanding to know who they were and where he was.
They had tried to feed him. But he wouldn't take their blood, or any of the humans they had snatched at night and pulled down manholes. He only wanted to rest. He said he required a great deal of it.
So the creatures waited on their master, eager for either a full recovery or for his voice to silence all together. They considered finding a new god to praise. Some of them had already grown indifferent and they ignored the Master. There had been a movement to put the coffin on the filthy water and let it simply ride away. Luckily for master, the more powerful of the tribe were loyal, and the few rebels were snuffed quickly.
So they waited, ate, squabbled, and hid from the light.
When they heard the footsteps in the water, they came together quickly and began to hiss.
"Protect the master," one said.
They formed a line in front of the grand coffin and waited. They first saw the old man, leaning heavily on a cane. He wore an overcoat and a high black hat that fascinated them all. Behind him followed a dozen tall and lean figures in black clothes. They all looked the same. Their black hair was pasted back. Their faces were pale and drained, and deep blackness circled their eyes.
The creatures stood their ground and hissed defiantly.
"We will protect the master," the biggest and strongest creature swore.
The old man paused, and his lackeys immediately halted as well. The squat man with heavy white eyebrows and a monocle smiled at them.
"You have done an admirable job," the old man said, in a thick German accent. "You have cared well for him."
"Leave," the lead creature warned. "Leave or we fight."
The old man chuckled and motioned to his forces. "These are my somnambulists. My slaves. They are loyal, tireless, and quite beyond any pain you can inflict. They can match you blow for blow."
"Protect the master," the lead creature said.
The Mermen prepared to attack.
Stand down, my children!
They stopped and looked to the coffin. The leader turned back to the old man.
"What do you want?"
"Your master will never fully recover unless he is returned to his native soil. He might linger here, a minor notch above death, but he will not find the strength to come out of that coffin."
The leader regarded the coffin again, and posed another question. "Who are you?"
"I am Dr. Caligari," the old man said, pinching the brim of his hat. "And I am here to take Dracula home."
18.
Business at the Slaughterhouse
Night had just risen when Johnny Stücke arrived at the old slaughterhouse he owned in the meat packing district. He instructed his men to wait outside and he entered the structure. The stench of burnt zombie flesh still permeated the place. The building was empty now, with the exception of a freezer in the back and grim meat hooks hanging in the corners. They were the last reminder of the pain and misery this place had wrought.
In the middle of the vast building, a woman was tied to a chair. A hood had been placed over her head. She sobbed and quivered. Next to her, a large wooden chair invited Johnny's ass to sit.
He walked to her, relishing the fearful jerks of her head as she heard his heavy steps. Johnny sat next to her, and gently pulled the hood off.
"Hello Colisa," he said, with the slightest grin one could shape.
Her face was wet and snot had hardened on her upper lip. "Oh Jesus," she whispered.
"Never has anyone mistaken me for him before," Johnny said, expanding the grin on his black lips.
"Mr. Stücke, please, we would have never opposed you if Dracula hadn't been in our ear," Colisa said desperately.
Johnny reached over and grabbed her short hair. He stood and jerked her head back. He leaned in close to her. "If you had come at me without his influence, your head would be mounted on my wall."
Colisa panted and stared at Johnny. Her tongue came out of her lips and she reached for him with it. Johnny released her, confused, and he stepped back.
"Damn, Colisa. Are you getting turned on?" he said. "You are taking all of the fun out of my theatrics. And I work hard on them."
"Yes… I… I can't help it," she said, her chest heaving. "I am scared shitless. Don’t get me wrong. But the rough stuff is an easy button. My therapist thinks it's because of all of the pressure I had leading the pack."
"Yeah, I heard you were a bit of a pain slut," Johnny said. "But I didn't bring you here to fuck you."
"Then why I am here?" Colisa demanded, and Johnny could see a bit of her old fire returning.
"You know what I see when I look at you?" Johnny said. "Someone who is hiding. You had that Sinead look going, and now you resemble a sexually frustrated librarian. I need to know something. Is the old Colisa still in there?"
Colisa nodded and gritted her teeth. "Yeah. And you know what? I heard you were one for head games. So let's cut the shit. If you want to play with me before taking my head, then I will just say fuck off right now and stretch my neck out for you. Because I am done with being scared. I am not going to look over my shoulder anymore, Stücke."
Johnny stared at her, and then he snapped the ropes from her wrists. She winced and rubbed them.
"N
ow see, that's what I like. Spirit. You were always fierce, Colisa. That is why I allowed you to run the city pack."
"What do you want?" Colisa asked, not interested in compliments.
"I want you to bring your people back to the streets," Johnny explained. "Tell them all is forgiven. As long as they follow the rules, they are welcome here. But, I don't want to see any fur on the streets. I don't want them so much as shedding on the sidewalks. They use their responders, gather in group cages on full moons, and no killing."
"There hasn't been a documented shifter related human casualty in a year," Colisa said.
"Doesn’t mean the shifters aren't hunting humans," Johnny interjected. "It means they are getting better at burying the bones."
"You know my kind. They don't like collars. They do have to get that bloodlust out of their system occasionally. Discreetly, of course."
"They will have opportunities to redden their fangs. But I'll tell them on who," Johnny said. "Bring them back, Colisa."
She nodded and stood.
"You can go," Johnny said, digging a cigar from his jacket.
As she retreated, Johnny stopped her. "Colisa, getting together on a Friday night, having some drinks and slapping you around isn't something I am averse to."
She regarded him. "Me neither," she begrudgingly confessed.
Colisa left quickly and Johnny drew the cigar down to a stub before one of his men finally stepped inside. "Hanson and his crew are here."
"Send them in," Johnny said, crushing his cigar under a heavy shoe. "Then wait outside."
Four vampires entered the building. The one leading them was Hanson. He was a leech maybe five hundred years old. The rest were children, the eldest eighty. They presented themselves to Johnny.
"You wanted to see us, Mr. Stücke?" Hanson inquired, uneasily. "You have another job for us?"
"No," Johnny said, rising. "I want to discuss the last job you boys did for me."
He walked to them, his arms behind his back. "Did you wonder why I instructed you to attack the Children of the Full Moon shelter?"
"We don't wonder or question. We just follow orders," Hanson assured him.
"Well, I am going to tell you why anyway. Largely because I like the sound of my own voice. But I also need you to understand the dilemma I now face. I had you storm that place to win a little sympathy for our kind. Z Day was a shit stain that wouldn't wash out. I had you disguise yourselves as mortal terrorists and kill those humans and Night Things to illustrate that we are victimized as well. It was a necessary sacrifice."
"We did everything you asked," Hanson promised. "We even left one survivor, to put it over."
"You did well. It is working," Johnny agreed. "Even that bastard Shaun Ginder has damned the attacks. We are adjusting the scales of public perception. But one of your boys endangered everything."
Johnny dug the illustration Carol had given him from his jacket and motioned to one of the vampires. "Vic, come over here."
Vic approached Johnny cautiously. "Yes, Mr. Stücke?"
Johnny handed the drawing to Vic. "Look familiar?"
Vic stared at it, and then turned his confused eyes to Johnny. "I don't understand."
"The woman who saw your face. Before she was killed. She drew this," Johnny said.
"But she's dead."
"Was. Welcome to the Magic Now, Vic."
"She a zombie?" he asked, the implications starting to form in his mind.
"No. She is more than that. But she has seen your face and she knows your name," Johnny said. "One of you has to go."
"I'll make her disappear," Vic swore. "Before dawn comes. I swear."
"Well, see, Vic. She is very unique. I have plans for her. You aren't that important to the big picture."
The other two children of Hanson grabbed Vic. Hanson anxiously looked to Johnny.
"Mr. Stücke. Please. I sired him myself. He can go into hiding. Please don't do this."
"If you are that heartbroken, you can join him," Johnny said, pulling a silver-tipped stake from his jacket.
Hanson moved aside, muttering, "I'm sorry Vic."
Johnny approached Vic, who blubbered and begged.
"You know I have had my issues with the vampires. But this isn't personal, Vic. You fucked up."
Johnny rammed the stake into Vic's chest so hard that he nearly knocked Vic's brothers over with the force. Vic died quickly. His lifeless body sagged in the grip of his black blood kin.
"Put him on the roof. Let the sun have him when it rises."
The vampires pulled Vic away. Hanson followed sadly.
"Hanson," Johnny said, halting the cheerless vampire. "This was on your watch. This is a warning and I seldom give a second one. There is a lot of space on that roof."
19.
Let's all go to the Lobby
Glass escorted Holly out of the theater. He walked her toward the restrooms.
"Why do you have to walk me to the bathroom, Percy?" she asked, frowning. "I can pee by myself."
Glass looked around. "Come on, Holly. Don’t use my first name. The boys hear it, they'll make fun of me and I'll have to whip someone's ass. And you know the drill. You don't go anywhere outside of Stücke's place without a guard."
"Why did your mom name you Percival?"
"She was into knights and medieval stuff," Glass explained. "She didn't realize she was branding me with a sissy name. I got into a lot of fights over it."
Holly paused in the theater hallway. "I don't have to use the bathroom."
"So where are we going?"
"I don't like cartoons," Holly said.
"Why did you agree to it then? The boss bought every seat in there so you and Sheila and my boys could come here and watch in peace."
"Sheila wanted to see it. I didn't want to disappoint her."
"That's nice," Glass said. "You're doing okay with her. You like her?"
"Yeah. She's the sweetest person I have ever met," Holly replied. "I'd be a real asshole if I didn't like her."
Glass nodded. "That you would. So what's the plan, Holly?"
"There's a horror movie playing on the other side of the snack bar. I want to watch it."
Glass frowned. "It's rated R. It's got violence and sex and gore and shit."
"It's pretend shit," Holly said. "I can handle pretend shit."
"Yeah, I guess you can," Glass said. "All right, so long as it's not that torture porn business. I'll smuggle your ass in there. But we're stopping for popcorn. And you're buying."
Glass and Holly got in line at the snack bar. Holly turned toward the theater entrance. A man was staring at her from the sidewalk. She looked closer. It was her father. Gary Hack. He pressed a palm to the window and sadly watched her. His face was pale and his eyes were heavy.
Holly gasped.
"Holly, you okay?" Glass said.
Holly looked to Glass' concerned face and then back to the window. Gary was gone.
"What are you looking at over there, baby girl?"
"Nothing," Holly whispered. "Nothing at all."
20.
Who Rules New York City?
In a secret room hidden in the Limelight Marketplace on W. 20th, the vampires met. The thirty or so that assembled were what was left of Dracula's army. Though the famous Limelight club had partied itself into oblivion years ago, the vampires still loved the location. They often reminisced about the old days. Their exploits at the club before the Magic was exposed.
But none reminisced now. They sat there sullenly, at cheap card tables. The room was often used as a support group. That night, none of the leeches felt like talking about the war they had survived. They were content to just sit there silently and drink the blood they carried in bottles. Humans were not allowed in this room. Not even as food.
Their spirit and ambitions were small fires these days.
The door to their sanctuary smashed open. They stood as they realized that all who were permitted in this room were present.
&nb
sp; A tall, feral looking vampire in a dark cloak entered the room. The old bastard was bald and his small fangs were centered over his lower lip. He was ugly, smelly, and a thick black scar ran the distance between his right eye and upper lip. He had massive bat ears that looked capable of flying off with his head. His beady eyes evaluated the vampires and he clicked the long black nails on his hands together as he formed impressions.
Night Things: The Monster Collection Page 23