I couldn’t breathe. This could be the lead I’d been searching for since my brother’d disappeared.
“There’s more.” Price’s tone chilled the smile from my face.
“What else?” I forced the words from my lips, not sure I wanted to hear.
The concerned look in Price’s eyes glazed over with a blanket of ice. “It appears we may have a possible breach in security. Tep’s informed me that someone has been making inquiries which may compromise this agency.” She opened her folder and removed a palm-sized square sheet, which expanded into a three-dimensional cube.
The acid in my stomach churned like a washing machine on high cycle.
I knew what was coming even before she slid the hologram in front of me. It was an image of Marco, flanked by Cassie and me. And it wasn’t one of our countless selfies. I didn’t know which was more disturbing, the fact that it was a holo of my friends, or that we were all smiles, completely oblivious that someone had surreptitiously captured a candid of us.
“I believe you’re acquainted with one, Marco Sandoval?” she asked, pointing at Marco’s face.
My mouth was suddenly parched. “We’ve been friends since we were kids.” As if she didn’t know.
“Because of your association with him, I’m giving you the opportunity to ascertain what he knows about DUST and discourage him. Make sure the information has been contained and not disseminated to others, such as this—” she lifted the cube, her well-manicured finger covered Cassie’s neck, separating her head from her body, “— Cassandra Reyes,” she finished. “Otherwise, we’ll have no other recourse than to curb his curiosity.” Her eyes locked onto mine. “Do we understand each other?”
“Perfectly,” I responded, without flinching.
Price stood and smiled, all motherly again. “Excellent. Good luck in Italy.”
I rose and nodded, leaving the room a little shell-shocked, lumbering past security and back to the school corridors like a zombie in a Romero flick. First, Price’d dropped the bombshell about Phillipe, my raison d’être, the thing that made me get up in the morning. Then, while I was still reeling from excitement, she’d basically threatened my friends, my only sanity in all this craziness.
It was bad enough hiding a huge part of my life from the people I cared most about. Now I’d have to spy on them to save their lives. That is, if I survived tonight’s encounter with the Dark Reich, an organization so depraved it made the Third Reich look like amateurs.
The bell blared, signaling the end of first period. Crowds of students flooded into the hallways.
Yep. First days can be killer.
Chapter Four
The stealth jet sliced through the darkening skies toward the Mediterranean. Once we entered Italian airspace, we’d be parachuting down to the drop point. From there it would be a short hike to Angelo Scuro, once home of an ancient monastic order, now a secluded dance club catering to supernatural creatures and their groupies.
After the final bell, I’d rushed to DUST HQ to pick up my equipment and hop the armored transport van to the airstrip. Damn. I’d completely blown off Cassie and Marco. Crouched next to Aristede just outside the cockpit while we checked our gear, I flipped open my phone and dialed Cassie’s number, routing the call through my earpiece.
“Just where the hell have you been, Dag? Marco and I’ve been looking all over campus for you. What gives?” She popped her gum.
“Wait up, let me get Marco on a three-way.” I put her on hold, dialed Marco’s number, and connected Cassie in. “You still there?”
“Where else would I be?”
“Sup?” Marco answered.
“Hey Marco. It’s Dagger—”
“And Cassie.”
“Hey guys. Dag, where the hell have you been? And what’s with your vanishing act during Delacroix’ class?”
I always hated this part. “Family shit again. Just needed to clear my head.”
Aristede paused from inspecting the solar flare cigarettes and gave me a look.
Marco and Cassie already knew my relationship with my mother wasn’t the best, but I hated using that as an alibi whenever an overnighter was involved.
“Sure, no prob. The three of us are studying late and you’re staying at my place, in case anyone’s looking for you,” Marco recited the drill.
Cassie interrupted. “I suppose you’re going to visit your dad then?”
My parents had divorced after my brother’s disappearance. Needless to say, they rarely spoke, which made my dad the perfect cover to explain my whereabouts to Marco and Cassie. All these lies made me sick.
“Yep, that’s right.” I slipped the hallucinogen ring over my finger.
“You know,” she added, “I’ve begun to suspect that your constant no-shows have something to do with a mystery man you’ve been tapping on the side.” She giggled.
“No!” Marco broke in. “I mean, if Dag had someone, if he’d started, you know, tapping, he’d have told us about it.” I could hear his face flushing.
“Exactly,” I said, fitting the biometric scanners onto my fingertips.
“Chill. I was only teasing,” Cassie replied.
“Approaching drop point in T-minus five minutes,” blared a voice from the cockpit speakers. I tried to mute the phone but it was too late.
“What the heck was that?” Marco asked.
“Nothing.” I shrugged it off. “Just some stupid and very loud YouTube vid.”
“You’re such an airhead,” Cassie laughed.
I glanced out the cabin window. “You know me. Always have my head in the clouds.”
Aristede slipped the phony computer chip into its hermetically-sealed case and smiled.
“Actually, I was hoping you did have someone lined up, considering Sexy Alexei is off the menu,” Cassie said, all serious.
My heart forgot to beat. “What do you mean?” I tried to keep the edge out of my voice as I strapped the parachute onto my back.
“After you bolted outta first period, we got to talking. He said he’d ended up transferring at the last minute. I tried bringing you up a few times, you know, to feel him out. He wasn’t biting. All he kept doing was asking about me, right Marco?”
“Uh-huh,” Marco muttered.
“Guess you’re out of the running. Sorry, Papi.”
I nodded without saying a word, regardless of the fact they couldn’t see my face. So what if the new guy liked Cassie instead? Why did it concern me? I didn’t even know anything about him. I should be happy for her. With all the important things to worry about, like the DR and the Age of the Sixth, why did I keep seeing Alexei Dimirov’s God-like face in my minds’ eye?
“Good riddance, I say,” Marco broke the silence. “I mean, he seems like an arrogant dick. And what’s with all the big muscles? Narcissism anyone? Some of us have a lot more constructive things to do with our time. There’s more to life than a muscular body.”
“There is?” Cassie and I responded together. We erupted into peals of laughter, mine more so to lighten the mood.
Marco was conspicuously subdued. “You dorks can ramble on about your masturbatory fantasies. I’m going to work on my story.”
The mention of his story chilled my blood. Price’s admonition was engraved in my mind. “Marco, when I get back, you can fill me in on the big conspiracy.”
“Oh, God,” Cassie cut in. “Don’t encourage him.”
“Sure!” Marco ignored her, his mood kicking back up a notch. “Maybe you can call me later tonight without what’s her face on the line.”
I stopped myself from saying, Sorry. I’ll be in Italy tonight trying to con a group of blood-thirsty ghuls out of a mystic elixir. “Tonight’s not good, Marco,” was what I actually said. “How about tomorrow?”
Marco sighed. “No can do. I’m having an Autumn Festival committee meeting tomorrow.” Could he sound a little less enthused?
“Why can’t they just call it a Welcome Back dance?” I asked. “Autumn Festival sou
nds so Children of the Corn, like they’re gonna tie up the Harvest Queen and plow her field, or something.”
“I’ll bring it up at the meeting. See you guys tomorrow.” Before I could respond, he was gone.
“I should probably go, too,” Cassie said. “I have to pick out an outfit for Sexy Alexei tomorrow.”
“Other than first period, I’m going to avoid Sexy Alexei. The last thing I need to see is you two drooling over each other.” My stomach curled in a knot as I said it.
“Well, that might be easier said than done.”
“Cassie …”
She spoke really fast now. “I figured since you two were never going to happen, and Marco hates Alexei because of the crush Marco has on you, I’d fix things so we could all be friends. So, I invited Alexei to study with us. See ya.” She hung up.
Great. One of my best friends had a crush on me, which I couldn’t reciprocate. The other was hitting on the guy I couldn’t get out of my mind. And now we all had to study together? How cozy.
Aristede stood, zipped up his jumpsuit, and strapped on his own parachute. “It must be really tough on you.”
I looked up at him. “Yeah.” I rose, putting on my helmet. “You ready to roll?”
He gave me the thumbs-up sign and followed me to the hatch.
The door slid open, letting in a rush of air. I peeked out into the night sky. Even though I’d been trained to skydive by the best, the anticipation of the jump still gave me butterflies. Training and simulated jumps were one thing, actual mission drops were quite another.
Aristede must have sensed my apprehension. “Don’t worry, kid!” he shouted over the howling wind. “You just concentrate on negotiations with the Reich. I’ve got your back!”
I smiled at him, not sure if he caught it through the helmet shrouding my head. I spoke into my helmet speaker. “This is the Greek Avenger to base. We’re preparing to jump.”
There was a crackle of static in my earpiece, and then Felanie’s voice, “Greek Avenger, this is Base Ops. We read you loud and clear.”
Then another voice—Price’s. “We’ve conducted satellite surveillance. The region is clear. Initiate radio silence.”
Despite the techno-jargon, it was comforting to know that Aristede and I weren’t alone out here. It was as if our com-links were conduits to our guardian angels, not that Price had any halos. But it reminded me that I was part of a team. And we had a job to do.
I slapped Aristede’s butt. “Let’s do it.”
Aristede grinned and jumped through the hatch. Not allowing myself to hesitate, I jumped out after him, hurtling through twelve-thousand feet of darkness.
****
The ground came up fast as I glided down to the hilly terrain. Using the toggles on my handgrips, I maneuvered the steering lines of my chute, executing an acceptable rolling landing close to Aristede, and successfully avoiding breaking any of my limbs. I came to a stop, released my harness, and sprang to my feet.
“What took you so long?” Aristede quipped.
We spent the next few minutes camouflaging our gear. After all, it wouldn’t do any good to alert the DR by having them stumble across our parachutes. We concealed our chutes under the brush. Then we took off our helmets and unzipped our flight suits, slipping out of them like snakes shedding last season’s outfit.
I was shirtless, except for an opened black leather vest that matched my skin-tight pants and boots. We’d decided at the last minute to add a prosthetic neck appliance to my throat containing fake blood, just in case some impromptu ghul sampling was warranted. I adjusted the chain around my waist, tethering it to the spiked collar around Aristede’s neck.
He was even more scantily-clad than I was, wearing nothing but a leather harness and matching kilt, kind of a sadomasochistic Braveheart number.
“Whatever you do, don’t walk too fast or you’ll choke me,” Aristede said, smirking at the tether.
I nudged his rock hard abs. “Hey, you’re supposed to be the submissive one, remember?”
We both had satchels tied to our waists, carrying our op-tech. Felanie’d reasoned if we were going in as Reinaldo and concubine, we may as well look the part and blend in. Easy to say when you weren’t the one wearing the shit.
“Let’s move.” I tromped my booted feet up the nearest hill, Aristede right behind me.
There it loomed in the valley below, the ancient monastery towering in the moonlight. Angelo Scuro. Dark Angel. I took in a deep breath as the wind whispered in my ears. It was time to get this party started and face Von Bueller in the Dark Reich’s lair.
We scrambled down the hill behind the monastery, past a stable full of horses nestled beneath the shadow of the tall bell tower, complete with stained-glass window. Making our way around a corner, we ran into a line of patrons coiled in front of the ancient structure, waiting to get in. Sauntering over, we merged into it.
There must have been some clothing-optional drink special going on, judging from the amount of bare flesh revealed under the moon’s eye. The clientele was comprised of the dregs of the underworld, a sea of scantily-clad bodies in every size, shape, gender, and nightmare. Hmmm. Kind of like waiting in line to get into an exclusive South Beach club.
I momentarily locked eyes with a short, green, gnomish creature with cat-like eyes, doing a shot of some dark-colored liquid, probably blood. The thing licked its lips suggestively with a long purple tongue, and then opened its cloak, exposing itself. I looked away. Not that I was gnomophobic, I just wasn’t getting paid enough to get flashed by pervs.
“Get ready to activate that ring,” Aristede whispered.
“Certamente.” I reassured him, practicing my Italian.
We shuffled forward, only one purple-mohawked patron away from the entrance. Two identical gleaming slabs of blond beefcake barred the huge wooden doors. The twin bouncers looked like they’d stepped off the set of some B gladiator movie. Well over six feet tall, they were clad in bulging iridescent thongs and nothing else.
My eyes darted around the perimeter, paying close attention to certain dark shadows stationed at key positions on turrets, around corners, and milling about the crowd. Party Palace or not, the Reich had a strong presence of agents lying in wait.
The purple-mohawked guy in front of us held out an engraved keycard to the Thongettes, which looked just like the one Felanie’d supplied us with. Judging from the way Purp’s hand was twerking, he was either high, terrified, or both.
Thong A ripped the invitation from Purp’s hands. He shoved it into the slot on an oval-faced scanner, which rested on a long steel pedestal about waist high (or thigh high, if you were one of the Wonder Twins). There was a flash of red and a harsh buzz, like the kind you hear when someone screws up on one of those game shows. If I was a betting kind of guy, I’d say Purp had overbid on the showcase.
“Siete una frode!” Thong B shouted, accusing Purp of being a fraud and shoving him back against Aristede.
Up close, I could see Purp was barely older than I was, thin as a rail, acne spread across the pale landscape of his frightened—no, desperate—face.
“Looks like we’re not the only ones trying to crash this party,” I whispered to Aristede.
Purp launched himself on the Thongettes, oblivious to the fact that they outweighed his skinny frame by at least a hundred pounds each. “Per favore. Ho bisogno di un po’di Hemocillin. Appena una goccia,” he pleaded, as he was shoved to his knees.
He was begging for a drop of Hemocillin, the Dark Reich’s latest designer pharmaceutical making its rounds in the supernatural underworld. It was so addictive it made a crack habit seem like a mild craving. Derived from demonic blood, Hemocillin gave you an orgasmic high, and then proceeded to rip away at your soul, one dose at a time, until your mind was literally trapped in hell, your body becoming nothing but a comatose husk, consigned to Hades for the duration.
Poor kid. If ever there was a time to just say no, this was it. Hell no, actually.
T
hong B crumpled the keycard. My heart spasmed. Purp was strung out. He needed a detox unit, not the fate the Dark Reich had in store for him. I took a step forward and felt Aristede tighten his grip on the tether.
“Let it go,” he whispered.
As much as I knew Aristede felt the same way I did, I didn’t want to hear what he was going to say: The only thing we’d accomplish by intervening would be to get ourselves tortured and killed as well. Acquiring Il Evanidus and preventing the Age of the Sixth insured the safety of billions of lives, not just one, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Who was that jackass that said the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few? I’d love to kick his ass right about now.
“Yeah, sure,” I whispered back, staring at the grim tableux.
Each of the Thongettes grabbed one of Purp’s arms, holding him up in the air between them as if they were about to make a wish. I looked at his frightened eyes, tears flowing in wild rivulets. There was something sickeningly ironic about just standing back and following orders where the actions of the Reich were concerned.
Fuck Protocol.
“I’m going in,” I whispered to Aristede, already scrambling to unhook myself from him.
“Dagger, wait!”
Before I could free myself, the bouncers shimmered, transforming into furry, canine beasts. Standing on their hind legs, the creatures bared mouthfuls of hideous, dripping fangs. Purp let out a cry of utter terror as the creatures tore into his arms from either end, tugging his body like rabid dogs fighting for scraps.
It was too late. I grimaced, turning to Aristede.
“Cerberus,” he muttered.
I swallowed. The bouncers were Cerberuses, or Cerberi, or whatever the hell you called it when more than one of the bastards hung out together. A race of canine beings from the Order of Cerberus who transformed into human likenesses to better blend in with their prey and hunt from the inside. The fact that they were named after the Guardian of the Underworld was no coincidence.
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