Ghosts of Atlantis (Immortal Montero Book 3)

by Greg Mongrain

  He gave a crazed laugh.

  “Okay,” I amended. “But the lack of aging and ability to repair my body are the only things that make me different. I love, laugh, hurt and cry for the same reasons you would. I’m no god. I’m just a man who doesn’t die very easily.”

  Once over the shock, everyone asks the same question. “How long?”

  I appraised him for several long moments. “Since the late thirteenth century.”

  “It’s impossible,” he whispered.

  “You just proved it, Steve.” I stood. “And I would appreciate you making a note of it so you don’t have to prove it again. If you will excuse me for a moment?”

  “Hm? Oh, yeah. Sure.”

  I climbed the stairs to my room, scrubbed off the blood, and tossed the stained clothing in a hidden trash can. After a fast shower, I donned a clean blue suit and tie before returning to the living room.

  Hamilton sat in the same position on the floor, staring at the coffee table.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Bro, I have no idea.”

  I retrieved plates and napkins from the kitchen.

  “Do you wish to eat sitting on the floor?” I sat on the couch, flipped open the box and pulled two pepperoni-laden slices onto a plate.

  “I gotta hit the head first,” he said.

  “You know the way.”

  I munched a slice while listening to the water splash in the sink. Hamilton returned and sat in the club chair to my left. I handed him one of the filled plates, picked up the other.

  We had been eating for less than a minute when the sight of him sitting and calmly munching a double pepperoni slice after pumping two rounds into me struck me as hilariously bizarre. He looked at me when my plate clattered to the table. Seeing my expression, the laughter erupted out of him so fast he sprayed bits of crust and cheese onto the floor.

  For several long moments we roared like a couple of loons.

  “If you ever pop caps on me again—” I choked.

  He held a pleading hand toward me, tears seeping from the corners of his eyes. “Don’t, man. My abs are burning!”

  I couldn’t help contrasting the absurdity of the past half hour with the dire situation we faced, but I felt refreshed from the crazy experience. At least Hamilton knew the truth now, and I could stop lying to him. That alone was worth a fortune, and I wished now that I had told him before he had to put it to a test. I picked up my plate, resumed eating.

  Hamilton swiped a napkin across his face. “I swear,” he said, “I always knew there was something different about you, bro-mo.” He daubed his eyes some more.

  “Do you really believe I’m taking you to a place filled with vampires?”

  “Yes,” he said, mouth full. “It explains a lot of weird shit.”

  “Such as…?”

  “For one thing, Spellman’s computer. Preston said it was only used while the sun was down. And that made me realize something: I’ve never seen Aliena during the day.”

  “Is that all you’ve got?” I asked.

  He chewed for a while, giving me the death-ray stare. “Spellman and Cha have no refrigerators, no food or drink in their houses at all, no trash cans with discarded cartons or bottles. Floss, toothbrushes and toothpaste in the bathrooms, but nothing else—no aspirin, scissors, razors, no prescriptions, nothing. Cha had some makeup and other cosmetic items, but like Spellman, no toilet paper or the dozens of other things found in everybody’s bathrooms. Why would they need them? Like you said, they live on a liquid protein diet—blood—after which they sleep in the forest like fucking hibernating bears!”

  I kept eating.

  “And Aliena’s hottie friends,” he continued. “You’re always warning me away from them, like that Rachella mamacita tonight. You’re protecting me, right? I’m telling you, man, the way she sized me up…like Oprah checking out the buffet. By the way, did she show up here earlier?”

  I plucked another piece of pizza, shoved it in my mouth. Hamilton was the quintessential detective, always on a fishing expedition.

  “You tapped that, didn’t you? Mutha. Does your immortality make you immune to them?”

  “No, though it would take three or four of them to kill me.”

  “Really?”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Yeah, I had the vampire thing figured, I just didn’t think you’d admit it. You’ve lied to me so many times in the past.”

  “I deserve that. You do understand the necessity?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he admitted slowly, “I get that. It’s just…I wish…hell, I don’t know.”

  “You wish I would have trusted you and told you the truth earlier.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess that’s what I was trying to say.”

  “Believe me, Steve, there have been several times I have wanted to take you into my confidence. You’re my best friend and the truth is I love you like a brother. Loving mortals eventually takes an emotional toll on a person like me.”

  “I never thought about that,” Hamilton said. “Wait. Not children?” he asked, sounding horrified.

  “Two sons and three daughters,” I told him. “Two wives.”

  “Christ, Sebastian, I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “Please don’t be concerned. I haven’t had a wife or child in over two hundred years.”

  “You said you love me?”

  “Very much.”

  His smile was seraphic. “I love you too, man.” After a few moments, he said, “Are vampires also immortal?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can see why you find Aliena attractive for more than her hot looks. How old is she?”

  “You may ask her that.”

  “I apologize,” Hamilton said. “Is that an impolite question?”

  “No, but she would prefer to answer it. Since they never age and look more beautiful than they ever did as humans, most vampire women love to tell you how old they are. Especially when they started out as gorgeous as Aliena or Rachella.”

  “Since we don’t find people dead of blood loss all over the place, I assume they can drink without killing?”

  “Yes, and they are experts at making the deaths they do cause look natural.” They also have dozens of ways of making the bodies disappear, I did not add.

  “Aliena drinks from you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Very much. Worse than being shot.”

  One slice remained. I pointed.

  “Take it,” he said. “I’m stuffed. Do you need to eat?”

  “No, though I do enjoy it.”

  “Does anyone else know your secret?”

  “Only three other mortals.”

  “Preston?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Do you mean that since he’s a genius, he should figure it out if you could?”

  “Something like that,” he replied. “He works with you as much as I do.”

  “So far, he hasn’t seen the things you’ve seen.” I didn’t tell him about my conversation with Preston earlier regarding my possible association with vampires. Now that Hamilton knew my secret, I was afraid he would worry about me if I were to give him certain information.

  “Are we ready to go?” he asked.

  He was too calm. To say you “know” something often means you are ninety-nine percent sure—especially when you’ve never seen or experienced the thing directly. When it comes to beings as extreme as vampires, the shock of that one percent can catch you off guard. And if it had to be done, 49 was not a place I’d recommend for a person’s first introduction to LA’s bloodsucking crowd.

  We stood.

  “Steve, please understand I can’t guarantee your safety if you insist on accompanying me to a club full of vampires.”

  “Won’t Aliena protect me, too?”

  “That reminds me.” I pulled the display from my pocket. Aliena was near Topanga Canyon. “She probab
ly won’t be there,” I told Hamilton. “And, well…”

  “Well what?”

  “Even if she is, she likely won’t remember you.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “I don’t know.” I wasn’t sure if I should tell him about the Ghosts of Atlantis and that Aliena was impregnated with one.

  He snorted. “Sure you don’t. Do you ever get tired of lying to me, Sebastian?”

  “Is that a yes-or-no question?” I followed him to the front door. “What I mean is, something has happened to her that is causing a kind of amnesia, but I’m not sure why. She doesn’t remember her relationship with me, barely remembers who I am.”

  “That’s a little better.”

  He was about to step outside when he turned. “Should I wear a crucifix?”

  “You can if you want,” I said, “but they’re not religious.”

  Chapter 44

  Sunday, February 15, 12:12 a.m.

  The Ferrari’s navigation system directed us to the North Hollywood address Marcus had texted.

  “So, what do we know?” Hamilton asked, watching the late-night traffic on Magnolia Boulevard slip past his window. “Since I can tell I’m only getting a part of the story about Aliena, why not start there?”

  I told him everything, except finding the creature inside her. He digested the information for a few moments.

  “I assume you noticed both of our witnesses put a blonde woman at the scene of these murders,” he said.

  “I noticed.”

  “Can you alibi her for either of them?”

  “No.”

  “You got the tracker from Preston after the Spellman kill. What about the Cha murder? Were you tracking her then?”

  “Yes. She was there when it happened.”

  “I can understand why you’d want to keep that to yourself,” he commented softly. “How much do the other vampires know about that?”

  “Marcus and the others know she’s lost her memory, and they may suspect her of being involved in the killings.”

  “Then why does he want to talk to you?”

  “He knows about the death of Cha, and asked about it when he called. And I think he has a favor to ask of me.” Would I accept his request to guard the Apollo Ring? I still hadn’t decided.

  My phone chimed. Rachella. I pressed the button. “Hi, Rachella. I have Detective Hamilton with me.”

  “Hello, Mr. Hamilton,” she said.

  “He knows about Aliena,” I informed her. “Were you able to follow her?”

  “As far as the Sherman Oaks area. I lost sight of her in the clou—in the traffic.”

  “Did she know you were following her?”

  “She never gave a sign. She didn’t seem aware of much.”

  “No, she didn’t. Thank you for calling.”

  “You will be at 49 tonight, of course,” she said. “We have a great deal to discuss with Marcus.”

  “Yes, I know. We’re on our way there now.”

  A pause. “You’re taking Detective Hamilton with you?”

  “The detective has cleverly figured out the whole vampire thing,” I said. “I already asked Marcus if I could bring him and he said it was okay.”

  “Mm hmm,” she purred—and when Rachella purred through a premium sound system, you felt it. “Does Mr. Hamilton have an escort?”

  “No,” Hamilton said, “I don’t.”

  “I would be delighted to sponsor you.”

  “I would be delighted also.”

  “Yummy. I will freshen up and see the two of you there.” She disconnected.

  “Did she say ‘yummy’?” Hamilton asked.

  “A slip of the tongue, no doubt.”

  “You’re always so hilarious.” His voice became thoughtful. “Now that I know Rachella’s a vampire, and she knows I know…”

  “She’s too big for you.”

  “That’s a cheap shot. Does she think Aliena killed Spellman and Cha?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. Why?”

  “Since it’s obvious you think she did, and you haven’t told anyone, if Rachella realized your secret, she would use it as a lever to coerce you.”

  “Yes, she probably would.”

  “Did she?” he asked.

  “You do see all the angles, don’t you?”

  “I didn’t get my detective’s shield out of a Cracker Jack box.”

  “Yeah, I noticed.”

  “And I can usually tell when someone’s lying to me,” he said. “Especially when his heart’s not in it.”

  “I’m being straight with you now. What else do you want to know?”

  “What’s the rest of the story on Aliena?”

  “How do you know there’s more?”

  “Because you believe she killed our victims!” He shifted in his seat. “Even if your GPS puts Aliena at the Cha scene during the murder, the woman was reduced to ashes. For some reason, you believe Aliena is capable of doing that. Why?”

  Instead of annoyance at his perspicacity, all I felt was relief when I told him everything about Aliena, from her blackout on the way home from Bar Sinister to discovering the creature implanted in her stomach less than two hours ago.

  “Christ!” he exclaimed when I finished with her abrupt departure. “And you think this…thing inside her is what’s burning these vampires?”

  “Yes.” I told him about Spellman’s USB drive and the letter to me.

  “He said these ghost things burn people to cinders?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. But this woman Morgan is calling Aliena to her and using this thing inside her.”

  “And Morgan’s from the other dimension?” he asked.

  “Yes. Atlantis.”

  “So Preston was right.”

  “He knows. One other thing,” I said. “Spellman feared there was an inside informer among the vampires. A woman. I would have guessed Cha, but not now.”

  “It still could have been her if there were two vampires helping Morgan,” he theorized.

  “Yes. Anyway, we can’t talk about the info from Spellman in front of the vampires,” I said. “That means we only know the name Morgan, but not where it’s from, and though we know something’s inside Aliena, we don’t know what it is.”

  “What about the ring? Do you know that’s Morgan’s objective?”

  “Yes, I think we can safely conclude that,” I answered. “Based on what Darius wrote, I think it’s likely the Apollo Ring will be a hot topic tonight.”

  “Always a comedian.”

  We drove in silence for a few minutes.

  “You said you saw this Cha woman at the club where you think Aliena was, uh, poisoned?”

  “Yes.”

  “And she was wearing a ring with a trident inside three circles. The same as the emblem on Spellman’s medallion.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I wonder why we didn’t find it at the scene,” he said.

  That was something I had wondered as well. Perhaps Morgan had taken it after the murder.

  “And you think the speakers are transmitters that open portals to this other dimension.”

  “Again, it’s just a hunch, but we may have a way to test it.” I told him about Spellman’s phone and the entry for Atlantis. “He said calling the number would activate the portal in his office. Maybe it will also open the one in Cha’s living room.”

  “And if it works?”

  “I take a trip to the other side,” I said.

  “Just like that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, what does this Marcus say about who killed Spellman and Cha?”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out.”

  The parking lot contained two other cars. Neither was a Ferrari F12.

  Hamilton had talked breezily about meeting vampires up to this point. Now, facing the shadowy defunct warehouse that sat isolated in an abandoned industrial park, he whistled softly. “You know, maybe I�
�m not so smart. There are really vampires in there?”

  “Hundreds,” I told him, shutting off the car. “And we are like pizza delivery.”

  “You said this guy Marcus would protect us.”

  “As long as we’re with him,” I said, wondering if Natasha and her girlfriends were attending tonight, wondering why I hadn’t called Marcus on the way and asked him to meet us outside. “I’ll ask him to come collect us.”

  A tap on my window. I turned. A man’s pale face leered from beneath a stiff cowl. An acolyte of the Apollo Ring.

  “Come out,” he said. “Both of you.” When I hesitated, he scratched a wickedly pointed fingernail across the glass. “Come out, or we’ll come in.”

  I popped the locks. “We’re coming,” I told him. “Just relax,” I said to Hamilton.

  We stepped out. The interior lights briefly revealed the four robed figures surrounding the car. When we closed the doors, indistinct shadows remained. Two of the shadows herded Hamilton next to me.

  “Where’s that little bitch of yours?” the first vampire demanded.

  “I trust you are not referring to Aliena,” I warned.

  He took me by the throat, gave me a shake. “If I find out you’re hiding her, I will rip out your heart. We’ll see if you can survive without that!”

  Grating laughter.

  Hamilton stepped toward us, aiming a punch. He never got close. Two shadows seized his arms and slammed him against the car.

  I wanted to ask why they were so interested in finding Aliena, but the vampire’s iron grip prevented speech. He answered the question anyway.

  “That murdering little bitch was seen leaving Kristina’s place. Now where is she?” He shook me a bit more, released me. “Well?”

  The GPS scanner in my breast pocket was suddenly lethal. If they discovered it in their current mood, they would capture Aliena as they had Carmen, and burn her with the Apollo Ring.

  “Don’t call Aliena a bitch again, I’m warning you,” I said.

  “Or what?”

  “Let me get back to you on that. Say at noon?”

  “Who saw her at the crime scene?” Hamilton asked.

  One of the shadows flickered. Hamilton’s breath hissed out as he doubled over.

  “No one’s talking to you, mortal.”

  This had turned ugly fast. Out here, these four could spirit us away and kill us at their leisure. If they did that, they would certainly discover the tracker.