by R. E. Carr
“Javier.”
“And you know Lorcan?”
“Sí,” Javier said with a little nod. “We go way back.”
“Hmm,” Toy said before taking a bite of her waffle. “You wouldn’t happen to be Javier Diego Azeri-Gorri Etxeberria de Azarola, would you?”
Gail and Javier both raised a brow. Toy laughed and slid a note out of her purse. She slid the neatly folded piece of ivory paper across the table. Javier opened it slowly.
“Lorcan left me a list of his friends. As you can see, it’s pretty short. It’s gotten a little bit shorter in the past few weeks, I might add. There have been a few suspicious accidents among the bondsmen who don’t seem to have hopped over to the new regime.”
“I am the only vampiro on this list,” Javier said as he skimmed it over. “I guess it really was from him.”
“Well, how do you know this is the real Javier?” Gail asked. She immediately cringed. “I mean he is really Javier, but—”
“Really, who would be crazy enough to claim to know Lorcan Darcy with everything I’ve heard lately?” Toy asked. “Before you ask, I got some bondsmen hella drunk in Chicago, and they told me a story that is too strange to possibly be fake.”
“But why are you here?” Gail asked.
“I could ask you the same question. You went missing from Boston, Gail, and I was told you’d be in Mexico City if I got desperate, Fangs,” Toy said to each of them in turn. “And yet we are all here in Music City. Isn’t that strange?”
“But who are you?” Gail asked. “I mean, Toy, really?”
“My real name is more groan-inducing,” she said. “Trust me. Speaking of trust, are we going to have to go round and round in a song-and-dance routine; or can we just lay it out on the table, move on, and save Lorcan already?”
Javier scratched his chin thoughtfully. Gail merely cocked an eyebrow. Toy rapped her fingers against the table as she waited for a response.
“Why are you here?” Javier asked.
“Slick Whitman’s Biscuit Shack,” Toy replied without skipping a beat.
Gail shifted her gaze between Toy and Javier a few times. Both parties gave each other a bemused smile. “What am I missing?” Gail finally asked.
“You do know Lorcan,” Javier said.
“I do know Lorcan,” Toy replied. “Before he left for London, he gave me a few instructions. He also told me about one last resort, one final vault he kept in case his family was compromised.”
“To be fair, that vault wasn’t really his to begin with,” Javier sighed. “But as in all other matters, mi amigo takes the credit. Oh, this all makes so much more sense now, so much more sense indeed.”
“Oh, I’m glad it does for one of us,” Gail grumbled. She poked at her oozing steak. “Any chance you can clue in the infant bloodsucker with memory loss?”
“I have a key to the vault,” Toy said softly. “Do you?”
“Never needed one,” Javier sighed. “I have the combination to the back door.”
“Well then, you get in your way, and I’ll get in mine, and if we actually meet in the middle, then we will know the other side isn’t full of shit. Agreed?” Toy asked.
“Agreed,” Javier replied.
Gail devoured her steak in confused silence while Toy ate a midnight snack that would put a pack of stoned frat boys to shame. The werewolf did have the common decency to pick up the tab, but Javier made a point to leave a nice tip.
“So, waffles to biscuits?” Gail asked as they slid into the car.
“Would you expect a secret lair to be hidden under a diner?” Javier asked, as he slouched into the passenger seat. “I’ll put it in the GPS once I’m sure she has driven away. Let’s see if this lob hombre really is a friend of Lorcan’s.”
“I’m starting to feel like this is a euphemism,” Gail sighed. Javier laughed and began playing with his phone. “Do I get any more details?”
“Lorcan is not only my amigo, he is a powerful, paranoid vampire lord who managed to keep an army of werewolves secret. Part of his strategy was to always have safe places, secret spaces. I know he never trusted every one of his hideouts to all his friends and family. Instead we all knew bits and pieces.”
“Let me guess, Slick Whitman’s Biscuit Shack?” Gail asked as the GPS started whining for her to turn right out of the parking lot. “If she really can get in there?”
“Then she is on our side, of course,” Javier explained. “Although, I have a terrible feeling that the sheriff also suspects that Lorcan is hiding something here. Why else would she pull out her deputy?”
“Well, would it make it look like Nashville was a good place to hide if you were on the run?” Gail offered. “If Lorcan is really on the run—”
“Then perhaps he would run right here. He does tend to rush headfirst into trouble rather than the other way around, mi amor. The sheriff told us to come here, and enough craziness has happened to lure at least one lob hombre into the city. I was hoping it would be our old friends in the Winnebago, but this Toy may be just as good.”
“This is all a trap, isn’t it?” Gail asked.
“Of course, it is – a terrible, convoluted trap, but it’s all we have to work with.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence, until Gail pulled up to a rather rundown converted house on the fringes of Nashville. The tires crunched on a mix of gravel and dirt, while a “Sorry We’re Closed” notice swayed in the filthy front window. The sign out front leaned dangerously to one side, with overgrown ragweed covering half the lettering.
Gail took note of the peeling paint and the obvious water damage along the foundation. Javier motioned to a narrow break in the weeds that led to a collapsing patio. Before they approached any closer, Javier stopped and reached into the trunk to grab a bat for Gail.
“Another fight?” Gail asked, as she saw a truck parked in the handicapped space in front.
“No, but the lock might have rusted, mi amor.”
Gail swatted at grass as they made their way to the back door. Sure enough, the back entrance required a bit of persuasion to open. A few solid hits, and Gail and Javier found themselves in a dusty, half-finished basement that reeked of mold and dead rats.
“I’m so glad we aren’t here to eat,” Gail muttered as she heard the pitter-patter of raccoon feet. She perused shelves full of cans and dishes, and tried not to get distracted by a lively game of count the vermin. Javier, on the other hand, made a beeline for a tattered velvet painting on the far side of the room.
“Dogs Playing Poker . . . really?” Gail asked as she could just make out the pattern in the light from the little windows.
“Lorcan is a warrior, not an art connoisseur,” Javier said, sliding his hand behind the painting. A moment later there was an audible click. A cloud of dust billowed from the floor, as one shelving unit swung into the middle of the room to reveal a pristine, solid-metal security door. Javier typed something into a keypad and there was another clicking sound. “He also never changes his passwords,” Javier said with a gleeful grin. He gave a little bow before swinging open the vault.
Javier led the way down a narrow stairwell. As the vampires approached a second door, violin music echoed from beyond the wall. Gail furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to place the tune. Javier shrugged and unlocked the second door. Both vampires’ jaws dropped, as they saw an air mattress plopped in the middle of the top secret vault with a projector showing a movie on the far wall.
“Is that . . . Channing Tatum?” Gail asked.
Toy rolled over to face them, a bag of popcorn already popped and in her hands. She motioned to a couple of bean bag chairs. “You’re welcome to stay and watch the rest of The Vow with me. After all, it will be dawn soon. There’s shelf-stable blood in that locker too. This place is pretty apocalypse-proofed.”
“Do you live here?” Javier asked incredulously as he saw a dorm micro-fridge in one corner and a laundry rack in the other.
“Told you I had the key, blood
suckers. Now, I guess that makes us friends . . . for now.”
“I guess it does,” Javier acquiesced. “I guess it does.”
18
“Let me get this straight, you used to be some sort of big-time mole within vampire society, but you got caught saving the current King Arthur’s body’s life, so you got brainwashed and memory-wiped, then dumped in Texas - where you ended up hooking up with a vampire, and then becoming one yourself, after you discovered the truth. Did I miss anything major?” Toy asked.
“We discovered Project Zero and Project Lethe,” Gail added. “Those are the names of the plans to transfer vampires into new bodies and to test if vampire amnesia lasts through trauma.”
“Wow, even vamps have project plans,” Toy muttered. “That is quite the story. You should write a book about it.”
Javier cleared his throat. He then pointed to Toy. “We told our story,” he hinted.
“Don’t get your panties in a wad, bloodsucker,” Toy said as she cleared their breakfast trash with a few layup shots. As the last crumpled up bag just barely tipped in, Toy raised her fists and shouted, “Three points!”
She then used the clear spot on the table to set up a laptop, pushing it against the wall so that everyone could see her screen. “You want me to use the projector?” she asked.
Gail sighed and shook her head. Javier, on the other hand, looked over to the air mattress as opposed to the folding chairs. Gail kicked him under the table, and he quickly muttered, “Go ahead, it’s fine.”
“Well, while all my friends have been off gallivanting and getting into all kinds of trouble, some of us did some real investigation,” Toy said. “This Project Zero thing to bring back the dead vampire, well, we caught the tail end of it in Long Beach. It was some real horror movie shit, with a bunch of bodies slowly drained alive into an aquarium of doom. Then some of the husks were tossed into a huge chipper-shredder while others were used to start a gang war.”
Toy’s face grew suddenly serious. “Unfortunately, that was how I got into really investigating you, Gail. Your uncle was one of the victims used to complete the voodoo in that warehouse.”
“Uncle Branco,” Gail said, lowering her gaze.
“Now, I’m just guessing by the timing, mixed with what I’ve heard, that that was the ritual to sort of reconstitute King Arthur the vampire. All I can say is . . . Eww, that is nasty even by your kind’s standards.”
“Was it six people of different blood types, all between the ages of twenty-five and forty-five?” Gail asked.
“Yup,” Toy said, pulling up some grizzly photos, making sure to quickly brush past the one of Gail’s uncle. “Kyle figured that these people were either blackmailed or otherwise coerced because of their health and blood types. Most of the victims were criminals. At the time we thought Ren Matsuoka was just another victim, but he turned out to be the test subject in the tank.”
“I haven’t been able to piece together all of it, but the notes specify that a large quantity of blood is needed, specifically of different types and RH negative to reduce potential reactions. I’m still struggling with a mix of Egyptian and Latin with only online translators,” Gail said, looking through the pictures. She noted, “That tubing and the setup looks just like in the plans we found. It totally worked.”
“Yes, I saw the new Arthur in London. No one doubted that he was the real deal,” Javier noted. “I made certain to stay away from him. If he is truly back, rumors say that he can control men’s minds. I wish I could find out more, but unfortunately most of the vampires of his era are either dead or hate me.”
“It’s really Ren Matsuoka though?” Toy asked.
“Yes,” Gail said. “His family is worried sick. I, um, used to betray vampires with his mom. I know, it sounds weird, but I’m somehow connected to him. I think I even saved Ren, so he’s not dead.”
“He’s an Undying,” Javier added. “A vampire freak whose humano suit doesn’t die when the vampire wakes up. It’s very rare and the host usually goes quite loco.”
“So, we have a reanimated vampire king stuck in the body of a potential psychopath, and this vampire has the power of mind control?” Toy asked.
“Ren is my boss’s son, I mean my ex-boss’s son—” Gail started.
Toy switched to a file with a picture of a Japanese man in a suit. Gail cocked her head and stared. “I remember him, a little bit . . . just flashes,” she said. “And when I see him, I’m so very sad.”
“I did a lot of checking up on this guy. He was the black sheep of his family, a few brushes with the law, nothing stuck. He was also in the car the night his cousin was killed. His friend and distant cousin took the rap - said he was driving, but the evidence doesn’t match up. It was Ren who had the bruising consistent with being hit by a steering wheel airbag,” Toy explained. “I also got reports that he ran around with a gaijin girlfriend that no one has any pictures of, and the only description they ever gave was blonde and fond of kung fu.”
“B-Blonde?” Gail stammered.
“And loves kung fu?” Javier asked. “Could Rikuto have possibly been telling the truth?”
“Rikuto? As in Rikuto Nakano?” Toy asked.
Gail remained stunned. “Why does this all seem so familiar, yet so wrong?”
“Everyone is connected, it seems,” Javier sighed. “Your madre liked that body both before and after there was a vampire in there. It’s not that weird, mi amor.”
“But . . .” Gail trailed off as she looked at Javier. “OK, it’s not that weird, but it still bothers me?”
“Your mom was the blonde girlfriend?” Toy asked.
“Minerva Von Fenstermacher,” Gail blurted out. “My vampire mom who abandoned me is a blonde who knows kung fu and is apparently boinking the new king, and she dated Ren before, and it bothers me deep in my guts, but I can’t remember why!”
“I can’t help you with that. I’ve tracked this Ren’s more unsavory connections. He has a ton of aliases, fake IDs, and he launders money, but so far, he’s been too good and too well-connected to be caught. I’m guessing now that he’s a vampire, he’s going to be even more untouchable. Our money guy, Morgan, he has spreadsheets for days on everything this dude has pulled off.”
The trio spent a while looking through all of Toy’s evidence and photo gallery. Gail finally had a moment to see her Uncle Branco’s body. She looked at the gory chipper-shredder and, even as a vampire, cringed.
“So, they can bring back dead vampires and shove them into new bodies, huh?” Toy asked. “Does that mean there is an army of ancient vampires just waiting to come back to fuck with us?”
“I don’t think so. I think there is something special about this particular strain of vampire,” Gail said.
“The Pendragon line has always bred survivors,” Javier added. “I hope that Lorcan carries on the tradition, but from the last I heard, the slow death had taken hold. I think that there are parties looking to use this same technique to save Lorcan.”
“He’d never want that. You should have seen his face back in California. He was disgusted, and I know he’d never allow innocent people to give their lives to save him,” Toy said. “He’s not like other vampires.”
“You mean, not like us?” Gail snapped. She pushed away from the table. “Ugh, I just want some answers, not more questions for a change!”
Toy connected the laptop to her phone. After entering a passcode and her fingerprint, she connected to a remote server. A few moments later and a new file directory appeared in a window onscreen. Javier leaned in and his eyes lit up as he read the Latin names.
“What wondrous delights do you have for us now, Toy?” he asked.
“While other werewolves learned to growl and claw things, my friends and I developed other skills,” Toy said. “Looks like Freckles is still in the game.”
“Freckles?” Gail asked, as she looked over Javier’s shoulder.
“These files are from the Arce Monstrorum,” Javier said, gobsmacke
d. “How?”
“My friend, Kayleigh, is a hacking genius, and she has found a backdoor into their system, while they are apparently backing up all this beautiful vampire secret data, both to their offshore cloud server . . . and to ours. My Latin isn’t that good, I’m afraid—”
“Mine is excelente,” Javier interjected. “Are you telling me that as we speak, the Jaeger family is uploading everything?”
“New files every day,” Toy said.
“How does this help?” Gail asked.
“This is a bonus,” Toy said, waving to the files. She then clicked on one. “This helps.”
A music file labeled “TylerGage4EVAH” popped into the audio player. A heavily-synthesized voice said, “Greetings, old friend.”
“It’s a Channing Tatum thing. Werewolves love Channing Tatum,” Toy explained.
“We aren’t dead yet, if you haven’t guessed. If you have any bright ideas, put out the normal ad in the normal place. Don’t call us, we’ll call you,” robot voice said.
“There is no one from the sheriff’s office in town,” Toy said, “and we have a pretty good bunker of supplies here. Is there any reason why I shouldn’t signal Lorcan and crew to come here?”
Javier smiled broadly. “No, my dear lob hombre. By all means, signal my old friend to come to town. It’s about time we had a reunion and worked together for a change.”
“But what about Dr. Nakano and the werewolves? Billy and Sam—” Gail started.
“Wait, Billy and Sammy Black?” Toy asked. “You sort of omitted that little detail in the tale of your escapades in Texas. Are they OK?”
“You know them too? But of course! You’re all friends of Lorcan. You know, I’m starting to think that is a euphemism for all lob hombres alive,” Javier said.
“Well, this just got really interesting,” Toy said. “I suppose I oughta check on them too. I hope they don’t have anything nasty to report on you, Señor Javier.”
“Oh, boy,” Gail muttered. Javier merely smiled and leaned further back in his chair, rather like a cat who had caught the proverbial canary.