The Demon Accords Compendium, Volume III

by John Conroe

  “You might want to call someone for her,” I suggested when I got to the wounded assassin by the door. “She shouldn’t bleed out if you hurry… you can take my word on that… I’m something of an expert on bleeding out. Oh, there will be some scars though,” I said as I pulled a couple of hairs from her head and shoved them into the envelope too.

  “I won’t be back. If there is a next time, our boy will just end you all when he takes a break between video games,” I said, holding up the hair-filled envelope. Then I walked out.

  Brunhilda was happy to see me and started right up with a well-tuned purr. We headed north, to Cobble Hill. Time to see the Aunties. That’s my name for them—no one else would know it except Tanya and Nika. Carmine D’Agosta and Jacque Robillard. They currently lived in a four-bedroom, five-bath townhome that they bought for a mid-seven-figure number just about five years ago. Give them another five or so and they would likely sell. For vampires, they were very mobile, moving every ten to fifteen years. I happened to love this particular home, so much, in fact, that I would probably buy it from them when the time came. Not that I had any plans on moving out of the Tower anytime soon, but it’s nice to have your own place to retreat to, if you know what I mean?

  I parked Hilda on the street and approached the front door of the little three-story.

  “Up here, dear,” a voice called softly before I reached the buzzer button. A glance upward revealed Carmine leaning over the edge of the roof, which had a lovely patio on it, another of my favorite features of the property.

  I glanced around, letting my senses flow outward. Just one car to go by and then I climbed the exterior, Clinging my way to the top.

  “Lydia Chapman, what brings you out to our little slice of Brooklyn?” Jacque asked as my head popped over the edge. He was seated in an elegant little patio chair, legs crossed, smoking with one hand while the other held a glass of blood. By the smell of it, its donor was lying passed out in a chaise just behind the vampires—breathing slowly, heartbeat a little weak, but steady.

  “Official call, gentlemen.”

  “From Her lips to our ears via your delightful little self,” Carmine said, taking his place next to Jacque. They were being very pleasant. That would likely change in the next few minutes.

  “You’ve picked up a new sideline,” I said, turning in place to look over my future rooftop.

  The Aunties ran a number of businesses, most of which could be lumped into the category of procurement. Darkkin require things that normal humans generally don’t: blood donors, new identities every seventy or eighty years, specialized money and investment services, human assistants to act as daytime agents, security products and services customized to account for vampire enemies, and countless other hard-to-acquire services or items. Old vampires retain habits from cultures that have changed and morphed enormously over the decades and centuries. With a network of specialists, antiquities dealers, and humans in the know, the Aunties can find and obtain, for the right price, just about anything.

  “We’ve picked up several, Lydia dear,” Jacque replied. “With vampires outed to the world, some of our main lines of business, like identity replacement, are becoming rapidly irrelevant.”

  “I’m speaking of your recent foray into human brokerage,” I said.

  Both men froze into the stillness of old vampires. I wasn’t certain, but I think Carmine was about two hundred and twenty or so. Jacque was into the early part of his fourth century, if Chris’s gift for gauging Darkkin ages was accurate.

  “That is a new and very promising venture,” Carmine said, his smile long gone.

  “No. It’s not,” I said. “In fact, it’s extremely unpromising.”

  “In what way—exactly?” Jacque asked, drawing out the last word.

  “Well, the first shipment has been intercepted, the suppliers have just gone out of the business this very night, and the initial buyer in Europe is… no longer buying… anything.”

  Both old vampires brought their hardest stares down on little old me. I came close to a shudder, as it was an order of magnitude more disturbing than the Russian guy’s attempt. But I deal with Elders almost nightly now, so the chill in the back of my head never made it to my neck, let alone down my spine.

  “You dabble in our business?” Jacque asked.

  “We, and by that I mean Tanya and Chris, with the blessing of the Elders, are cleaning up some of the more negative tradelines,” I said.

  “You don’t have enough on your hands?” Carmine asked.

  “That’s just it. We’re about to go to war. We need to cleanse the air a bit, reduce the negative energies around us.”

  “So you pick on us?” Jacque asked.

  “You should know better than to engage in the trafficking of young humans for sex,” I said.

  “If not us then someone else,” Carmine said.

  “Well, you’re welcome to ignore my words,” I said with a sad smile and a shrug. “This will be my only time delivering them.”

  Carmine’s right eyebrow went up, while Jacque’s frown became a blank mask.

  “If not you, then who?” Carmine asked.

  “Katrina.”

  Both vampires sat up straight. “We are Darkkin in good standing with the Coven. Why would our young queen threaten us so?”

  “Because it needs to end—immediately. It’s not just you, it’s all trafficking everywhere that is being shut down. You just happen to be here, in our backyard, and I was able to pull rank for this meeting.”

  “Why? Humans have traded their own kind since they learned to walk upright,” Jacque said. “Why this obsession with their well-being when they don’t even have it for themselves?”

  “That young queen you mentioned? She’s from older stock than you know, as is her God Touched Chosen. What seems like weakness to some people is, in fact, an inborn set of morals and principals from their lives before. Then we have a certain witch on our side. Do you know his story?”

  Jacque waved one hand limply. “An unlikely freak of nature,” he said.

  “Funny, he says that about himself too. He’s very young, somewhat geeky, a little idealistic, and absurdly powerful. Like unbelievably, incomprehensively, shit-your-pants-when-you-understand-it powerful. His mom and aunt were raped. He has a pretty one-sided view about sex trafficking. He found your operation. Our operatives intercepted the boat at sea and rescued the girls. But the buyers? He took care of them personally. Sat on his girlfriend’s yoga mat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and concentrated for exactly fourteen minutes and seventeen seconds. I know because I was there and timed it. At the end of that time, he opened his eyes and halfway across the world, a private island off the coast of Africa sank beneath the ocean. Everybody on that island died with the exception of eleven girls, all under the age of eighteen. Somehow, they were found in a small dinghy, floating amid the flotsam of the four-acre island. It seems that a very localized sub-marine quake happened right under the island. The quake did something very strange—it boomeranged back on itself, something the geologists call a back-propagating super shear rupture. This all occurred”—I looked at my wristwatch—“about three hours and forty-four minutes ago. We decided to warn some players ourselves. The rest are finding their assets missing or frozen, evidence of their crimes showing up in police computers all over the world. But I like you guys, so I came myself.”

  The Aunties sat frozen, eyes locked on me, completely and utterly motionless, not even breathing.

  “And the threat of Katrina?” Carmine finally asked.

  “A gift from your young queen. Declan has volunteered to help us, but we’re trying to… contain his involvement. The island was good practice for him, but we really need to save him for the aliens. Katrina has an odd attachment to him and his equally young friends. Calls them her college buds. She’s volunteered to help with the cleansing. Tanya thought she would be the gentler choice.”

  The two Chosen turned and looked at each other, communicating in tha
t silent way that paired vampires do. I stood, unmoving, contemplating that I had used the word gentler in the same sentence as Katrina’s name. After a slow count to fifty-one, the Aunties suddenly both turned my way.

  “Lydia, darling,” Carmine began. “You have previously expressed interest in this little property of ours a time or two.”

  “And we find ourselves in need of a buyer,” Jacque finished for him. “Our business lines have just changed, and we feel a need to… relocate back to the Continent.”

  “I’m sure we can work something out,” I said with a smile.

  “One question, dearie,” Jacque said.

  “Yes?”

  “Does not sinking an island count as bad karma for your, ah, practitioner?”

  “I asked the same question myself. His answer was that he simply asked for help with the problem of the pedophiles. The form of the help was chosen by the entity he queried. It chose to sink an island it probably caused to form eons ago.”

  “How were the young victims saved?”

  “Omega provided help guiding them to a suitable boat and then directing rescuers to their exact position.”

  I left Cobble Hill slightly ahead of schedule, as the Aunties had seen the dark at the end of the tunnel very quickly and we had a rough deal worked out for the house that benefited both parties. So I was understandably still excited as I returned to Hilda and prepared to pay a local witches’ circle a call. Not all that excited about that visit, as I don’t have much use for witches other than Declan and his aunt. Luckily if you’re only going to have two witches for friends and allies against the rest, it really helps if they’re both exceedingly powerful. My Declan-made protective amulet was really pretty badass.

  My phone rang before I could touch Hilda’s starter. “You’re needed back here,” Lisle said. “Some Department of Energy agents are here and there’s also been a phone call from some law firm alleging a class action lawsuit against almost everyone.”

  “Super. What do the DOE guys want?”

  “Something about illegal experimentation with radiation and particle accelerators.”

  “All right. I’m headed back now,” I said. “Contact Darion and have him touch base with the law firm on whatever bug is buzzing up their ass.” Modern slang was so much more fun than what I had grown up with.

  Then I sighed as I considered the two problems. It seemed like half my job these days was dealing with legal attempts to infringe, influence, or shut down Demidova operations. We were by far Darion Cornell’s law firm’s biggest customer and spending more money on insane lawsuits every day. And a good chunk of the rest of my nights was spent dealing with government attempts to regain control of its missing authority.

  “Omega, what’s the deal with these DOE dudes?”

  “One is an agent of the National Nuclear Security Administration, which has responsibility for the security of nuclear weapons, and the other is from the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, which polices commercial radiation usage.”

  “We don’t have any radioactive stuff, do we?”

  “Just Father and Chris.”

  “What?”

  “Both of them utilize quantum particles when they exercise their powers. Also, the twins can be included in that as well.”

  “Oh. Somebody’s been thinking out of the box,” I mused.

  “It is likely to be a unique approach. I am digging into both agents, their backgrounds, and their mission tonight. If you wear an earpiece like Father, I will update you.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I made it back to the Tower in unusually fast time, but the fact that all my signal lights turned green as I approached them gave me a good idea of why the trip was so fast.

  The short trip had given me time to consider my approach, so I paused to change out of my leather riding jacket, replacing it with a casual red blazer. I kept my jeans but switched my ass-kicking boots for black flats that looked more like an executive assistant would wear.

  Both agents were in one of our meeting rooms, one sitting and the other examining the pictures on the walls.

  “In case no one mentioned it, those are Demidova offices around the world,” I said.

  The standing agent, who had salt and pepper hair cut very short, turned dark brown eyes my way. The one who was leaning back in the end chair at the conference table was likely in his thirties, with curly blond hair and blue eyes so light that they were almost gray.

  “Well it’s about time. You are?” the older agent asked.

  “I’m Lydia Chapman and you are Agent Mall of the NRC and you”—I turned to blondie—“are Agent Keese of the NNSA, and you both showed up without an appointment, so your wait is on your poor planning. Now, what can I do for you?”

  “Let me guess… your computer told you who we are?” Agent Mall asked.

  “Of course. Let’s cut to chase. You’re both here to present some extraordinarily questionable arguments that some of our personnel represent some kind of radiation threat. You”—I turned to Mall—“think they are unlicensed particle accelerators, and you”—I turned to Keese—“have a ridiculous claim that they are equivalent to nuclear weapons and therefore fall under your jurisdiction.”

  Neither answered but both were taking me very seriously all of a sudden.

  “Licensable devices are defined as containing some form of radioactive material,” I said to Mall. “No one in this building has radioactive material inside them, with the exception of Gary Nokes in accounting who had a cardio PET scan yesterday and still has a minute amount of radioactive tracer in his system.” Then I turned to Keese. “I don’t even want to guess what line of crap you’re about to spew, but go ahead.”

  He just looked at me for a second before exchanging a glance with Mall. Then he turned back. “Declan O’Carroll and Christian Gordon have both emitted extreme levels of accelerated particles on multiple occasions that have been detected by numerous devices.”

  “So what?” I asked.

  “No one else does that… at least at the level of deadly weapons,” he said, a glint in his eye as if he was about to say checkmate.

  “And what exactly are you going to do? Arrest them? Attempt to contain them? How?”

  The two agents exchanged another glance and them simultaneously reached under their jackets and brought out handcuffs.

  Keese’s were made of depleted uranium, or at least plated with it. Mall’s set were steel and copper with symbols etched all over them.

  I snorted. Indelicate and it would have given my mother fits to hear it, but it’s one of my responses to absurdity.

  “Either your bosses hate your guts or neither of you have a clue what you’re doing here,” I said.

  They both looked offended.

  “I’m curious. How do you see this going down… in your own minds?” I asked.

  “The individuals will present themselves and we will take them into custody,” Keese said like it was obvious.

  “You recall that one of those individuals bombed New Hampshire with a meteor and the other can knock down entire towns with his mind?”

  “These will block O’Carroll’s connection to magic,” Keese said.

  “He had a set of those put on him a few years ago and then had his jaw broken. At that point, he found a way to destroy the bracelets while wearing them. Those couple of years might as well be centuries as far as how much he’s grown. And depleted uranium brings out the bad side of Chris. And I mean really, really bad. Are you sure your orders came from your bosses?”

  “Of course,” Mall said.

  “Who else?” Keese demanded.

  “Oh, I don’t know… maybe from Connie and Mallory? At least those were the names on the emails that you guys received.”

  “You hacked our emails?” Mall asked, frowning like I had admitted murder.

  “Omega did. Good thing too. If I was silly enough to actually let you meet Chris and Declan and you pulled those stupid toys out, you’d be lucky to be alive. Espe
cially if their women caught wind of it.”

  “You are threatening federal agents?” Mall asked.

  “Nope. Trying to keep a couple of slow-witted ones alive, that’s all. Here, let me show you,” I said. I pulled two objects from my pocket. “Please examine these and offer me your expert opinion.”

  I plunked a Kennedy half dollar coin into Mall’s hand and a Case folding penknife into Keese’s.

  The immediate effect was… nothing. Both men just stood, staring at the object in their hand for a full minute. Mall was the first to raise his head. He blinked at me and then looked at the spelled cuffs in his other hand. Then back to me.

  “You guys met some ladies, didn’t you?” I asked.

  Keese was blinking rapidly, his face going white. Guilt flashed across Mall’s face and he clenched his left fist, the one with the wedding ring on it and the coin in it, and then tucked that hand into his pocket.

  “Fellas, you’ve been played… by witches, some of whom are probably waiting somewhere outside this building.”

  “I have found twelve individual females spaced around the Tower who seem to be loitering without any purpose,” Omega suddenly said through the speaker.

  “You shouldn’t feel bad, or at least guilty, as many witches are masters of seduction magic. You have no protection whatsoever from them. Those spelled objects you are holding were created by the witch you were sent to grab, as protection against magical influence. I’m not an expert, but you each likely have a mark somewhere on your body that keeps the spell going even inside the wards of the Tower.”

  Mall almost exploded out of his suit jacket, his right hand unbuttoning his collar before the coat hit the ground. Keese followed his lead, dropping his DU cuffs to start pulling off his own clothes.

  “I’ll just step out while you two confirm my suspicions,” I said, moving quickly to the door before I was forced to see anything I didn’t want to see. Neither agent was attractive in my book.