I planned to get more information about the McNights. Their names kept coming up and it’d be silly to dismiss it as coincidence. Gretchen had already told me what she knew about them, which was basically nothing, so I decided to question one of my best sources. Reg.
We made it to my house and the poor fella was exhausted. I saw Reginald on the porch, wearing his leather Pirates jacket.
Chapter 18
HE SAID, “YOUNG BUCK, how we doing today?”
“Good. Made a new friend. Say hi to Colossus.”
“Hey there, little guy.” Reginald lowered his right arm and opened his huge palm. Colossus ran right into my neighbor’s hand and he scooped the dog up onto his lap. Colossus panted with his tongue hanging out as Reginald stroked the back of his head.
I asked, “You want to come over for a little?”
He made the same face almost every time I asked him. He scrunched his nose up and twisted his lips together. “I guess I can for a minute or two.” He used his favorite answer.
I helped him get his wheelchair around the wooden divider on our porch. He gripped my arm like a bear when I slipped on one of my steps, sending a wave of pain through my injured shoulder. I regained my balance, shoved my good shoulder into the chair and got it up onto my porch.
We went inside. I grabbed a small bowl of water for Colossus and searched the fridge as the dog started drinking, and Reginald rooted through my bookshelves.
I barely had anything in my refrigerator. I took some grilled chicken and herb roasted potatoes from a few nights ago and chopped it up. After heating it up, I put it in a bowl, and presented it to my new friend. Colossus attacked the food as if he hadn’t eaten in over a week. Checking out his wiry frame, it might have been longer.
I left the dog to his meal and went into the living room.
“Where’d you get this guy from?” Reginald asked.
“Up on the hill. Lady lived right across the street from the ball field.”
His eyes narrowed. “What? You take someone’s dog?”
“Nothing like that.” I shook my head.
“Cuz I wouldn’t blame you. Those are some big burns all over this dog. Look at the inside of his left ear. Messed up. It’s getting me worked up just thinking about it.” Reginald and I shared the same beliefs on abusing women and animals.
“Some really strange stuff has been happening around the ‘Burgh, Reg. Really strange. What’s been on the news?” I used Reginald as a pipeline to what the media reported on.
“They talked about all them murders today. The ones with the G20 in blood. That looked pretty crazy.”
I took off my hoodie and my T-shirt was soaked in blood.
Reginald’s head jumped back. “Mike, what the hell done happened today?”
I tilted my head to the side. “It was a bit of a rough morning. Think you could fix up a couple of little scratches from a kitty-cat? These ones are pretty deep. Deeper than those other ones from the Manticore.”
“You know it. I’ve always been more of a dog person myself, but I’m willing to make an exception to help you out.”
“Me too.”
I grabbed my first aid kit and one more necessary item. The nerve calmer. I picked up the kit and a glass of whiskey. I walked back into the living room and handed Reginald a rocks glass almost full of Jameson.
“Much obliged, young blood. What’s that? Blood around your mouth?” He nodded and took a sip. He looked so badass when he drank Jameson or smoked the occasional cigarette.
I had almost forgotten about the shifter blood and fur. I pulled the plastic ramekin out of my pocket and hovered over it, scratching more crusty blood from my face and mouth as Reg directed me.
Reginald squinted his eyes.
I explained, “This is from a werelion shifter.”
“Yeah, looks like you got some good blood samples there.”
I remembered something else. “There might be some semen too,” I announced in an excited tone.
Reginald’s face wrinkled, causing a look of disgust. “Now, I don’t know what you got going on young blood...”
I stopped him. “Strange things happen in fights. No, it’s...it’s a long story, but, it’s a long story and we’ll leave it at that.”
I took off my blood-soaked shirt, opened the kit on the couch and Reginald pulled out the equipment he needed. The good doctor put on a pair of plastic gloves, wiped away the blood, and took a closer look.
“Sweet Mother Mary, what kind of cut is that, young blood? I seen a lot of cats in my day, and none of them had claws like that. That one in the middle’s gonna need some stitching,” he said, and swabbed the cut with some antiseptic.
“It was a big kitty-cat, I guess. A werelion shifter. Much smaller than the Manticore and the demon in the alley.”
“Are you sure?”
“Wrestled him with my bare hands and saw him shift with these two eyeballs. Something dark is going on, Reg. It’s big too. I can feel it.” Ironically, I felt a buzz on my thigh. Not a biblical premonition or anything like that, it was my phone.
I pulled it out as Reginald took another gulp of Jameson and held his hand up to see if it was steady. Nope. Keep drinking, buddy. He sipped his rocks glass and dug through the medical kit as I checked the text message.
Unknown number. Maybe it was another prospective job. Hopefully one that paid. I hit the button to see who it was and immediately regretted it. I took the phone number out of my pocket to confirm before reading the message. Suzette must have gotten my number from her mom.
I was young, perhaps an old soul, but I hated contraction texting. Either she thought it was cute to intentionally misspell words or she was so busy that she needed to contract everything. Neither one appealed to me. And don’t get me started about the ellipses. “Hey, Reg.”
“What’s that, young blood?” He looked at me, eyes glazed over, but focused, and I knew he was ready for surgery. He slid on the latex gloves.
“You’re pretty good with social media and things like that.”
He swabbed the wound and picked up the needle. “I know a thing or two about a thing or two, ha ha.”
He let out his signature booming laugh that usually followed his first glass of whiskey. I smiled. I enjoyed hearing Reginald’s laugh considering the shit he had to deal with concerning his worthless son.
“If I check a text message, does the other person know that?” I hadn’t done much texting and I only had my business profiles on Facebook and Twitter.
“Man.” He paused for a moment, nodding, deep in thought. “Probably. You know what kind of phone she got?” He had slid the needle through my skin three times. Reg worked as he talked when I wasn’t under anesthesia to keep me distracted.
It always worked. I barely felt his precise stitch work. Reginald was not only a former surgeon, but he made medieval-style tapestries with heraldry and family crests.
I hadn’t noticed a phone in Suzette’s hands. “I don’t know what kind of phone she has. Does it matter?”
“Hell yeah, it matters, ha ha. Everything matters. Here’s the deal. If she got an old phone or she don’t really check her messages or have an obsessive personality then you should be alright. It would have to be a real old phone too. Like yours, ha ha.”
Save it, Reg. “Indulge me and let’s just agree that she might have an obsessive personality.”
“Then one-hundred percent she’s gonna check that shit, ha ha. Done. She’s already staring at her phone, shaking her head.” Reg finished the surgery and covered the wound with gauze and medical tape.
“I can’t see it, but from the pain aspect, bravo, my friend. Bravo.” I sent a simple text to Suzette.
My phone immediately buzzed.
Reg broke my concentration. “My payment’s probably at the bottom of this glass, huh?”
He finished off the Jameson and handed me the glass. I knew what to do.
The dog sprang up from his brief nap, followed me into the kitchen and leaned against the backdoor. I let him out to handle his business and poured Reginald another glass of the good stuff.
I sent another text.
She immediately texted back again.
Oh puke.
I went to put the phone away and it buzzed in my hand.
I wasn’t worried but her misuse of punctuation and ellipses made me try to think of an excuse to get out of this. I returned to my living room, handed Reg his payment for another successful surgery, and plopped down on the couch.
I made small talk while Reginald sipped on his second drink and waited until he had finished more than half of it before I unleashed any juicy details. Reg knew things, and I don’t know how he knew, but his information always checked out. The only problem was Reginald was a little tight-lipped due to his days in the service.
That was where the Jameson came in. He took another drink and I dove right in. “Reg, you heard anything about crazy sex rings in Pittsburgh?”
Chapter 19
“YOU MEAN LIKE A COCK ring? Ha ha.” Reginald also turned into a comedian when he got drunk.
I smiled and shook my head. “No. Like a sex club, and before you make a penis metaphor about a baseball bat, I’m talking about a group of people that involve themselves in group sex.”
“You make it sound so clean and eloquent, young buck. Takes all the fun out of it. You know what young buck rhymes wit’ don’t cha? Ha ha.” He also gets a wee bit unfocused.
“Reg. I really need you to pull it together. You’re always asking me if you can help, now’s the chance.”
“You’re right. You’re right.” He looked at me, barely keeping a straight face, trying not to laugh as one eyebrow lowered and the other raised.
I couldn’t hold it in and started bagging up. What can I say, he was a funny guy.
We caught our breath and Reggie finished his second glass of booze. It was past last call and I wanted some information. “Reg. The sex ring? What of it?”
“What I been hearing is that the McNights do something like that. But it ain’t illegal or against no one’s will. These people are willing participants from what I know. But that’s all I know.”
That didn’t help me considering I had already known that. Letting my best friend get too drunk ended up backfiring on me. Reginald rambled on about a few things and the afternoon flew by as I kicked back on my couch with Colossus. It was almost time to get to the meeting.
Why was I getting a rotten feeling in the pit of my stomach?
I got to the building for the support meeting and already felt bad about leaving my dog home alone, especially with that box in the attic. The poor little guy had already been through enough. The past few days had been a blur, and I tried to recap the situation as I walked into the lobby.
Alayna hated me, cutting off my connection to the magical world, leaving me alone to solve this.
Shifters were running wild in Pittsburgh. The Pittsburgh I swore to protect.
The demons had my blood and my friends’ tears.
I had the shifter’s fur, blood and possibly other stuff.
I had that box that had been radiating dark energy in my attic but couldn’t open it without Alayna.
So not too much going on right now and all my assumptions were unproven theories.
I tried to smash everything I knew together with tremendous force and hoped it would come out a diamond. It didn’t work. I looked in my empty palm and hoped some more. At least nobody had gotten hurt, except me, of course.
I encountered a grim atmosphere when I entered the meeting room.
Everyone was crying and hugging and that had only meant one thing in the past. I wondered who, as I took a quick check of the room. I hadn’t noticed anyone out of the ordinary missing. Maybe it had been someone from the a.m. group.
Then it hit me like a lightning bolt between the eyes. I was an idiot. A damned fool. They got her. The demons got her. They got her because of me, because of my hoodie, because of my recklessness. That was one of the big rules. Don’t get any innocents killed. I was a murderer who was going to stand trial with the Golden Chamber.
A guilty verdict will be quickly rendered and I’d face execution. I deserved it. I prided myself on protecting women and now I had gotten one killed. A cancer fighter. My sister. I collapsed into a chair, white as a ghost, and waited for Alayna to send her magical henchmen to deal with me.
Sorry mom, I failed again.
Alayna was the sweetest person I had ever known, like a second mother. She had taken me under her wing when I wanted to die, saving my life, but she had a job to do. Anyone who violated the rules of the Golden Chamber had to be dealt with.
I needed confirmation. I stood up and put my hand on Sharon’s shoulder. “What happened?”
Sharon turned and hugged me. She was sobbing and trying to clear her throat. She seemed satisfied and finally said, “Stacy.”
I knew it. Had I needed to hear it out loud?
“She’s missing.”
Missing. Hope shot through my body, kickstarting my heart, pumping blood to my numb fingers and breathing life back into me.
“She just up and disappeared. No signs of a struggle or nothing. What kind of monster would do this, Mike?”
I wanted to answer her truthfully. I wanted to tell her that it was a monster well beyond her worst dreams. A monster so hideous, Medusa looked like a supermodel in comparison. A monster that could tear her apart in less than a second. A monster that was probably going to kill me.
And then I would tell her it was all my fault.
I ignored my inner voice and remained silent, patting Sharon on the back as she hacked up another phlegm ball. Everyone sat down and we started the meeting. Everyone shared. I shared. I don’t remember what anyone said, though, including myself.
I just wanted the meeting to be over so I could figure out what had happened to Stacy. It sure seemed like everything I had touched in the past few days had turned sour, to say the least. Toward the end of the meeting, a lovely girl entered, and sat down in one of the chairs in the back for listening only.
She looked familiar. Where had I seen her before? I threw the thought aside and shifted back to saving Stacy. I needed to get a hold of Gretchen and find out if she knew anything about the kidnapping. My heart skipped a few beats and I hoped that Stacy had her medication.
I couldn’t feel any lower as I stood up to leave the meeting. The gorgeous woman in the back pointed at me and I lowered my head due to my shyness. Admittedly, I was intimidated by her looks.
She kept pointing at me with a confused look on her face. “Where do I know you from? Rocco’s Jamfest?”
I figured it out. The eyebrow ring. Damnit. I played dumb. “I’m not sure. You do look familiar though.” It was Gretchen’s daughter.
The girl just had to say, “I’ll figure it out later” and we can both be on our way. I’ll find a new meeting group and nobody will get hurt, especially my nipples.
“Oh my God, you’re the detective that was working with my Mom that one day. Did she tell you about me? What’s your name again?” She talked fast and jittery.
“Mike Merlino,” I used my Bogart accent like a damned fool. Smooth.
She squinted her eyes and pursed her lips, confused. “Okay. I’m Satoku, and you already know my last name.”
“Do I?”
“I would hope you know my mom’s last name.”
“Oh right. What was I thinking?” I wasn’t thinking at all. I still got nervous around women, evidenced by the extreme moisture in my palms.
She laughed and smiled at me. I was in trouble and she seemed to know it. I hadn’t detected magi
c coming from her but she was giving off a special vibe, perhaps the intoxicating flowery aroma she emitted was covering it up. I should’ve stayed focused on saving Stacy, but this girl captivated me.
She had a silver eyebrow ring that sparkled next to her moss green eye and long, thick lashes. She wore silver necklaces, bracelets and rings, accentuating her sleek, skinny body. But I couldn’t take my eyes off her glimmering lips.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes. She had lovely eyes. They pulled me in and wouldn’t let go. Was she a practitioner? What was going on?
She said, “I assume I’m here for the same reason as you. Proud survivor.”
“Congratulations. Full blown?”
“As of last April.” She smiled.
I was in big trouble and needed to refocus fast. “That’s awesome. This is a great group. Is this your first meeting?”
She looked around before answering in a softer tone. “Here, yes. I feel really bad saying this, but I was going to the group downtown, and there was this guy who kept creeping me out. I know it’s awful to say since we’re supposed to be brothers and sisters.”
I smirked. “Even families have some members that aren’t quite exemplary.” I probably knew that better than anyone. “Welcome to the group and if you need anything, my number is on the list.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” She held up a copy of the phone list.
“Only as support beams,” I clarified.
“We can see what happens.” She smiled shyly.
She was clearly cheating with her sexiness, but I needed to stand firm. I didn’t need her mother on my ass. “Before we even hang out as support beams, let’s get a few things straight. Your mother and I...we’re basically partners and there is a certain code between partners. One of those codes is that we don’t hang out with our partner’s daughter if that meeting could even have the possibility of turning into something it shouldn’t.” I clumsily blathered on.
She laughed. “Mike, are you scared of my Mom?”
Bloodline Awakened Supernatural Thriller Series: Books 1-3 Page 9