"Chessman," I barely rated a nod as the Seer greeted me with his clipped, impatient voice.
"You have an assignment for me, Elder?" I asked. Elder was the least of several titles a Council member would tolerate. They much preferred Honored One, or even Exalted One, at times, but I'd never liked this particular member. I wondered if he knew it.
"Yes, Chessman, I do." I looked at him, my face expressionless, and he never knew how slimy his compulsion felt as it slipped into my mind, coating my will with its own. I wanted to shiver and gag, as it made its insidious journey into my brain. "You will find the vampire called Merrill," the Seer instructed, his voice iron hard, his compulsion impossible for me to break. "You will destroy him and bring me evidence, do you understand? I want him finally and irrevocably dead."
I'd had compulsions placed by the Council before, most often by Wlodek, Head of the Council, but never one by the Seer. I felt contaminated by its touch. I wanted it gone, but I wasn't old enough, or strong enough. I didn't know of any existing vampire who could throw off a compulsion placed by the Council. Briefly, I wondered what Merrill had done to warrant a death sentence, but the Seer wasn't done, yet.
"You will tell no one, not even other members of the Council, of our meeting, or who your target is." That compulsion seeped into my brain and settled itself beside the first one. I could only nod at the Seer. "Good. You have permission to ask for assistance from Showalter if you need it, and I expect you to place compulsion on him so he won't go blathering about, either. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Elder."
"Good. Contact me at this number when you've made progress or taken down your target, and I will let you know where and when to bring the evidence." He passed me a slip of paper.
"Yes, Elder."
"Go now. I want this done as soon as possible."
"Yes, Elder." Turning away, I stalked through the pitch-black tunnel leading to the surface. I'd recognized the two guards at the entrance when I'd arrived; one of them spoke as I made my way out again.
"What did he want, Boss?"
"You know better than to ask, Russell." I was short with him and he stepped back, not speaking again. I wanted nothing more than to get away from there as quickly as I could, so I ran. I was back at the car in seconds, making not a sound, surprising the driver, who apologized for not noticing my approach while he opened the car door for me. I ignored him and slid inside. He drove me home.
* * *
"Merrill, that fool has sent Chessman after you."
Merrill looked up in surprise. "What are you talking about, brother?" Merrill was sitting behind the seventeenth-century desk he was so fond of, toying with a letter opener.
"Just what I said. The one who calls himself the Seer has placed compulsion on the Council's Chief Enforcer to come after you. He won't be satisfied until you're dead. I told you he saw us together that night. He only pretended not to recognize me."
"A compulsion on Chessman? Are you sure?"
"You know I am."
"He'll be harder to kill than the others," Merrill settled into his wingback chair and steepled his fingers.
"You can't kill Chessman. He's important."
"How can you stand there and tell me I can't kill him? He's been sent after me. I will kill him."
"No, Merrill. I can't explain this fully; you'll have to trust me on this. You're going to have to convince him not to kill you."
"He's a mister—one of the few of us who can become mist. He's more dangerous than any of them, too. That's why he's Chief of Enforcers."
"I know that."
Merrill's phone rang. He reached out to pick up. "Merrill, here." He listened for a moment. "Slow down, Joey, even I can't understand you when you talk this fast." Merrill went back to listening. "I understand, child," he said after a while. "Yes, I have already been informed, thank you. I'll send Brock to pick you up now; we'll check through my records to see where we can lay a false trail." Merrill hung up the phone.
"Chessman's already contacted Joey about tracing my financial records and such. I suppose it's a good thing we never let the Council know that Gordon didn't turn Joey before he walked into the sun."
"I told you not to give out that information, either on Joey or the other two."
"I know. You've never led me wrong before, but I grow tired of waiting for some of those things you've promised me over the years."
"Have patience, Merrill. They will all come to you."
"Telling a two-thousand-year-old vampire to have patience is not amusing in the remotest sense, old friend."
* * *
Wednesday, April 7th
I wandered into the kitchen of my apartment after rising for the evening. Opening the refrigerator, I pulled out one of many bags of blood I had stored in it and shut the door. Sucking on the unit of blood, I checked my answering machine for any messages. There were two, one from my business manager—he'd had to fire a chef at one of my restaurants, and the other was a hang-up call. I erased both of them and finished my breakfast. I called Joey Showalter immediately afterward. He was two months away from receiving his master's from MIT before his turning; he'd almost died in an automobile accident and had been brought over by Gordon, an old vampire who had decided to greet the sun shortly after turning Joey.
I hadn't met Joey before, but the Council had used him several times, whenever they needed someone to hack into computer records or the like. He'd sounded young over the phone the evening before. In human years, he was twenty-three. In vampire years, he was two. I didn't know if we could endure one another. I was two hundred fifteen and could barely tolerate young humans.
I'd arranged to meet Joey at a coffee shop around the corner, and he was a few minutes late getting there. I knew him the moment he walked through the door; we vampires always recognize another of our kind. He came and sat at my table. "Joey Showalter," he nodded at me; vampires seldom shake hands.
"Adam Chessman," I nodded in return. "Have you found anything yet?"
"A couple of things," he said. "I found some charges going back to his bank account from Memphis, six days ago. Hotel room and other incidentals." I was watching him carefully as he spoke—he was dressed in worn jeans and a T-shirt with a rock band's name scrawled across the chest. I was appalled at his disregard for grooming. He was five-seven, and would be infinitely more attractive if he dressed better. Even so, he was ogled by at least two people in the coffee shop, one male, one female. I knew from the records, however, that the male would be the one to gain Joey's interest.
"Are you prepared to fly to Memphis with me, then?" I asked. "How quickly can you be packed and ready to go?"
"I can go tomorrow," he said, slightly irritated at my interruption. He'd been explaining how he'd gotten into the records to begin with. I didn't need details, I only needed information.
"Good. We can start with the hotel and anything else you can uncover between now and then. I have to place some calls, arrange for the jet and find a safe house for us there. I'll meet you at the hangar tomorrow at eight." I tossed a tip on the table and rose to leave—we'd ordered black coffee and pretended to drink it.
"All right," he said and offered a half wave as I left the table.
* * *
Merrill's three-story manor was located outside London, in the English countryside of Kent. He held extensive grounds around it, and kept the perimeter secured against intruders. Merrill was seated in a chair and reading quietly when Franklin led Joey in.
"Merrill, we're flying to Memphis tomorrow night." Joey said as he paced inside Merrill's library.
"Not a problem. Chessman won't find anything—I'm not there, after all," Merrill responded.
"Why does he want you? There's no reason for it."
Merrill frowned, wondering what to tell Joey. "It's not really me, I don't think, but the company I keep, at times."
"So, you didn't do anything wrong, but you were hanging out with somebody who did?"
"Not even that. The o
ne I was 'hanging out with,' as you so ineptly put it, wouldn't dream of doing anything wrong. It's just that there is a history here, bad blood, no pun intended, and now the Council wants to get to my companion through me."
"Why don't they just go after him—or her—I guess, if that's who they want?"
"Have you heard the phrase, lasso the wind? I think it might be appropriate in this case." Merrill looked at Joey. He was so young, still, he couldn't help thinking.
"So, impossible to catch? Is that what you're saying?"
"And more dangerous than that, if you did manage to corner him," Merrill added.
"More dangerous than the Chief Enforcer? C'mon."
"More dangerous than any vampire, Joey, which he is not, by the way."
"Merrill, nothing is more dangerous than a vampire."
"While a few werewolves might argue that point with you and fail miserably, by the way, this falls into the more things in heaven and Earth category. We will not speak of this again, do you understand?" Merrill placed a light compulsion in his voice.
"Yes, Merrill."
"Good. Tell me about Chessman."
"He's better looking than I thought. About six-four, hair almost black, gray eyes. If he'd smile now and then, he'd have women all over him. They look anyway, but his expression puts them off."
"I'm not sure that's what I wanted to know," Merrill observed dryly.
"Oh. Well, he's all business, which is only to be expected, I guess. I tried to give him details on how I got the leads in Memphis, but he cut me off. I think his mind is working on three levels, at least. I wouldn't want to cross him, Merrill. I wouldn't survive it, for sure."
"Well, Joey, practice your subterfuge, then, because crossing him is exactly what you're doing."
* * *
Thursday, April 8th
Joey was there on time for the plane, and I think I was frightening him. I suppose being what I am warrants the natural responses, at times. I took the opportunity to place compulsion while we waited for the ground crew to finish fueling the jet.
"Joey Showalter," I said, giving him my strongest compulsion, "You will not discuss this assignment with anyone else. You will come to me if someone asks you about it, and I will deal with them."
"Yes, Adam," was all he said, then fidgeted with his bag. We climbed aboard a few minutes later and settled into our seats. Joey fidgeted even more, once we were in the air.
"Did you not feed before coming to the airport?" I asked him.
"Yes."
"Then what is wrong with you?"
"I'm always hyper. I nearly drove my mother crazy—I can't tell you how happy she was when MIT accepted me at sixteen."
"She's still alive." I didn't make it a question.
"Yeah."
I knew that look. I'd had it once, myself. I'd stood in shadows, long ago, and watched my parents and my brother grow old and die. "Joey," I sighed. "I'm not going to bite you."
"That's not the story I've heard."
"You're not my type."
"Adam, you're the boogeyman, or haven't you heard?" Joey turned away when he said it.
I ran a hand through my hair. I did know that. I had a reputation; a well-founded one. No rogue got away from me. If the Council sent me after them, they died. Any vampire who killed a human unnecessarily was considered rogue, and if the killing came to the Council's attention, an Enforcer was sent to destroy the rogue. There were twelve Enforcers and I was their Chief. That's why Russell called me boss although we were siblings, turned by the same vampire. He and Will had been standing guard at the cave's entrance, Tuesday night. Likely, the Seer had placed compulsion on them as well, ordering them not to reveal the meeting inside the cave.
"Joey, you wouldn't even be an appetizer for me, so stop being afraid," I told him.
"Wow, Adam, that makes me feel loads better on several levels," Joey huffed, refusing to look me in the eye.
We landed in Memphis six hours later, and I'd arranged for a rental car to be waiting for us. Joey and I tossed our bags in the boot and I pulled the map I'd purchased from my jacket pocket to find directions to the safe house.
The Council had safe houses almost everywhere, and they were usually small fortresses, built of concrete and steel, most of them with basements that could be closed off to keep us safe while we slept through the day. I handed the map off to Joey after committing it to memory, and drove to the safe house.
The ground-level floor of any safe house was mostly for show, unless we wanted to entertain in the evenings. The door into the basement was located in the floor of the master closet, and I pulled it open and went down first. Neither of us needed the lights; any vampire can see quite well in the dark, but I flipped the fluorescents on anyway as I took the steps three at a time to go down. Joey skipped the steps altogether and just gave a good leap, landing on the carpeted floor of the basement.
Two bedrooms lay on one side of the basement, and Joey knew to let me have the largest one. It held the en suite bath, so I walked in, tossed my bag on the bed and then went to check out the fridge in the small kitchen. It had been stocked already by the local vampires; I'd made those arrangements the night before. As far as the night went, it was still early. I herded Joey back out to the car and we drove to the hotel where Merrill stayed a week earlier.
It was the Fremond, so Joey and I headed for the bar. If a vampire wants company for the evening, a bar is their first choice to find someone. I had a description in my pocket, although there were no photographs of Merrill available. Vampires are very reluctant to be photographed. For obvious reasons.
The bartender poured vodka into a glass as we took seats at the bar. He finished mixing the drink and handed it off to the waitress, who walked it to a table nearby. The bartender took our order, then. I ordered a bloody Mary; Joey asked for a glass of merlot. I intended to ask the bartender questions, and preferred not to use compulsion while I did it. I would only employ it if the bartender were uncooperative.
"Do you work here most nights?" I asked the young man as he set my drink in front of me. It had a tall stalk of celery in it, which I promptly removed and set aside.
"Yeah. Why?"
"I'm looking for a friend. About six-three, black hair, blue eyes. Can pass for Pierce Brosnan's brother."
"The guy from Remington Steele?"
"Yes."
"Hey Shannon!" The bartender called the waitress over instead of answering my question.
Shannon walked toward the bar from a customer's table. "Who was that guy that you slobbered all over? The one who was here last week?" The bartender was doing his best to embarrass her. It didn't appear to be working.
"Oh yeah, Merrick. He was something to look at, but I think he's gay." Joey had to suppress a snicker. I waved a hand in warning at him. He sat up straighter and looked around quite innocently.
"This guy's looking for him. Says he's a friend." The bartender nodded in my direction.
Shannon turned her gaze, and her smile, on me. "Well, you'll do instead, honey," she drawled. I was beginning to wonder if that slow, irritating drawl I was hearing everywhere in Memphis would keep me awake in the morning.
"When did you last see Merrick?" I asked. "I'm trying to catch up with him."
"A week ago yesterday, sugar," she reached out and pulled my tie into her hand, stroking it suggestively.
Gee whiz, Adam, you could have her on the floor right here, Joey's voice permeated my thoughts. I jumped as if I'd been shot. The waitress backed up, suddenly nervous, but when I failed to make further unexpected moves, she wiggled her way back to me.
"So, nothing since then?" I kept up my questioning while another part of my brain attempted to process what had just happened. I'd heard of mind-to-mind communication between vampires before, but Robert and Albert, brothers and Enforcers for the Council, were the only remaining vampires with the gift. Before that, there were two others, but they'd been staked in the mid eighteen hundreds—during the day while they were sl
eeping, of course.
"No, sugar. I would have remembered that," the waitress answered my question.
"You didn't see him with anyone else? A date, or anyone from the hotel?"
"Uh-uh. He was all by his lonesome. I tried to get him to take me out to dinner, but he said he was busy."
Busy not getting cooties, Joey's voice filtered into my head again. At least I didn't jump this time.
"Well, thank you. I'll keep looking, then," I informed the girl and slid off my barstool. I dropped a twenty on the bar and dragged Joey out of the hotel with me.
"What the hell was that about?" I slammed Joey against the wall outside the hotel. Fortunately, the street wasn't busy and nobody noticed.
"What?" Joey wasn't lying. I can tell when someone is lying to me.
"I heard your voice in my mind. The first time you said, and I quote: 'Gee whiz Adam, you could have her on the floor right here.' Does that ring a bell? I have nearly perfect recall, Joey Showalter."
Joey gasped and struggled in my grip. I had my arm across his throat, and I'm sure my eyes may have been the blood-red color of an enraged vampire.
"Adam," Joey choked out, "I was just thinking that. Can you read my mind?"
He wasn't lying now, either. I let up and Joey slipped from beneath my arm. I hadn't hurt him; it's hard to do that with a vampire, actually, but I'd scared him, for sure.
"Come," I grasped the collar of his shirt, almost ripping it, and pulled him along with me. I found a deserted alley nearby and took my hands off him. "Do it again," I said. "Think something at me, like you did before."
Joey tried, at first with no success. I threatened him again and he backed against the wall of a nearby business. Back off, asshole, came in clearly.
"I heard that, young Joey," I grinned maliciously at him. "Call me asshole again and I'll slap you to the Mississippi River and back."
Leave me alone, jerk. I never wanted to do this, anyway.
Well, you're just going to have to, aren't you? I tried my hand at it and Joey's eyes widened in surprise.
Other Worldly Ways (Anthology 1) Page 5