Monsters, Book One: The Good, The Bad, The Cursed

by Heather Killough-Walden

  Apparently the situation did call for it.

  “Mr. Santiago!” Harold addressed Gabriel directly. “There’s been an update on the Apex case.”

  “What?” Angel asked, her body tingling uncomfortably. “What Apex? What’s going on?”

  “Apex?” Casey repeated, his expression dire. “Seriously?” He was questioning Gabriel. Clearly the briefing hadn’t yet begun, and they were all on the same empty page.

  Angel fixed Gabriel with a questioning gaze and a raised brow.

  The Apex was one of the most dangerous creatures the wardens were tasked in policing. Easily ranking in the top five worst creatures to face, the Apex was an improbable and highly catastrophic hybrid of werewolf and vampire. They were blessed with all of their breeds’ strengths and none of their weaknesses. Sun did not slow them or harm them, and neither did any precious or semi-precious metal. They possessed the impossible speed of the vampire, and could even heal wounds made by fire. The Apex could flash into wolf or vampire form at a moment’s notice. Worst of all, like their vampire counter-parts, they were able to manipulate the minds of those left unprotected.

  Killing them was next to impossible. It required nothing less than complete decapitation or explosive destruction of the Apex body.

  Thank the Storyteller, not all Apex were trouble. In fact, most were just the opposite. They were usually werewolves who’d become vampires in the moment of death in order to preserve their lives. Becoming a vampire didn’t make them any more evil than they’d been as werewolves. Contrary to Hollywood’s perceptions and insinuations, the good or bad that comprised a person’s soul almost always remained intact and unchanged during a transformation into something supernatural. Personalities, memories, everything that made an individual who and what they were was unaltered. Becoming a vampire didn’t make someone evil. It made them a vampire. And in the case of a werewolf, it made them an Apex.

  Gabriel shot her a look that said he’d have preferred to fill her in on this one in private, but then turned to the others, addressing them all together. “Over the course of the last seven hours, five bodies turned up in the city, all Apex victims. However, three are approximately three days old and were weighted down in the bay to prevent their discovery. And now,” Gabriel nodded at Harold and sighed heavily, moving forward to take the file from Harold’s outstretched hand, “there appear to be new developments.”

  Casey, Hannah, and Angel all exchanged unsettled glances. Angel watched Gabriel’s fingers close over the folder, and suddenly an image of something horrible flashed in her mind’s eye. There was blood. Lots of it. But the image was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and she quelled the sudden sweeping sickness that came with it. “Five victims in three days?” Her voice was tight and high-pitched. “What the hell?”

  “Yeah,” said Casey. “Whoever this guy is, he’s going through humans like free cheesecake samples at a hookah party. Why are we only hearing about the murders now?”

  Gabriel sighed as he flipped the folder open and began to read it. “Like I said,” he addressed Casey without looking up, “most of the bodies were weighted down. Every one of them was found this morning, within hours of each other.”

  “It’s almost like we were meant to find them all at the same time,” said Hannah, who had visibly paled. She was echoing Angel’s thoughts exactly.

  “Any DNA matches yet?” Angel asked, trying to focus.

  Gabe shook his head, still not looking up. “Not according to this. The tests were rushed due to the severity of the case, and so far the results have come back negative. Doesn’t match any human, vampire, werewolf, or Apex on record.”

  The problem with that was that records had only been kept for the last ten years. So DNA matching almost never worked. It was just another step they took, just in case.

  “Anything else you need, sir?” Harold asked as he prepared to leave the room.

  Gabriel looked up, clearly distracted by what he was reading. But then he slipped into warden leader mode and thought for a minute. “Madeline and Jonas are about to tend to a domestic dispute call in the Tenderloin. Warn them to take extra precaution. This Apex is on a rampage, and everything and anything could be a trap right now.”

  Good thinking, thought Angel. The thing about being a warden was that wardens were the police of the supernatural realms. Which meant they were just as likely to have to respond to something like noise pollution or theft or even family squabbles as they were murders. The only difference was that wardens didn’t police humans. As far as Angel was concerned, that meant the cops in the mortal realm had the harder job.

  Except when dealing with shit like this.

  “Right away, sir.” Harold, or “Harry” Shanks, spun on his heel and left the briefing room, closing the door again behind him. He was a mere sixteen years old, short and lanky with light brown hair, hazel eyes, and glasses. Like most of the younger wardens, he was orphaned. Wardens started young, but there was a reason for that. Clan leaders and sovereigns alike felt it was best to reach orphaned or otherwise “lost” children before they turned to something irredeemable on the streets or were flat-out killed. They were taken in, cared for, and trained to defend themselves. They were given purpose and jobs that saw to that purpose. And no one could argue that the Kings and Queens of the Thirteen Realms didn’t take good care of their wardens.

  Add a sentinel to the mix, and being chosen as a warden more often than not turned out to be a blessing. As long as the training was good enough. For the Vega clan, that was where Angel came in.

  Harold was of course one of her pupils. But Harry was a quiet and shy kid, extremely intellectual, not nearly as physical as many of the other trainees. This made him a last choice for missions, especially any that could land a warden with injuries. Most importantly to Angel, Harry had a scythe-shaped birthmark on the inside of his wrist. It was something she’d noticed right away but that hadn’t insinuated itself as something important until just recently, when the clans had learned that a new breed of supernatural known as Withered was appearing across the globe. And each and every one of them had been born with that same birthmark.

  They became Withered when they died, then returned to life. In this unexplained and mysterious resurrection, a Withered changed physically, becoming taller and stronger, which would probably have benefitted Harry. But a Withered changed mentally too. And Angel didn’t know enough about that change yet to want to chance it with Harry. She liked who he was right now. He was a good kid.

  Angel had initially sent Harry on a few light-weight jobs to gather intel on rogue anime that had escaped from the Phantom Realm into the mortal realm. But when news of the Withered hit the streets, she pulled him right back out of the field and informed him that he’d been “promoted” to Vega clan’s messenger. It was a tasking job; a clan’s messenger had to be up-to-date on absolutely everything regarding the clan and its jobs, but Harry was capable of amazing mental feats and it meant a raise for him, so he didn’t mind. And it also meant Angel could keep him safe. Hopefully.

  Once Harry was gone, Gabriel turned back to the other three in the room. “This Apex is obviously mobile, but he’s still sticking to a general area. Earlier, I pin-pointed the locations of the first five killings here.” He clicked the remote and the screen illuminated with a map of the general vicinity, highlighting five red circles.

  While Angel, Hannah, and Casey studied the map, Gabriel looked one last time through the file containing the latest info on the Apex and lab results. Angel watched him. As he read the file, his expression became increasingly troubled. By the time he was finished, his hazelnut eyes were dark indeed.

  He lifted his head to find Angel studying him. She didn’t like what she saw in his expression.

  “There are six bodies now, aren’t there?” she asked quietly, somehow knowing the file contained more death.

  Gabriel didn’t respond right away. He placed the closed file on the table and slowly unbuttoned, then rolled up his s
hirt sleeves. Angel had always found that particular move sexy. The way his watch glinted in the overhead light, the way his veins stood out on his well-built forearms – for some reason, it was a heady combination that always shot warmth into her belly. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but for her it felt like a power move, one made by someone in command of the situation.

  Still, she could see that his fingers were tense, and the muscles of his forearms were flexed. She glanced at his face, but he avoided her gaze. A muscle twitched in his jaw. Angel sensed that he was fast building steam, like a pressure cooker, and that he was hiding it behind a professional façade that was almost as scary as the potential explosion.

  Finally he went to the open laptop on the other end of the table and made a few entries. The map on the screen updated, flashing blank before reappearing. When it solidified, it revealed the locations of two more murders.

  “Holy shit,” whispered Hannah.

  “Not six,” said Gabriel. “There are now seven known Apex victims.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The killings formed a circle on the map.

  “Well, what do you know…” whispered Casey. “A ring of murders. Do you think the killings will stop now?”

  Hannah moved from one foot to the other, eyeing the map through narrowed slits. “No, obviously this monster is focused on something in that area.” She scrutinized the screen, stepping around the table to come closer to it. “Most likely right smack in the middle of the ring. This is a geometrically perfect circle.” Hannah was very good at deciphering things of that nature. It was one of her gifts.

  The perfect circle reminded Angel of Michael. He had loved circles too, and spheres as well. Any round thing, really. He even had an Ouroboros tattoo on his inner arm that had been made out of a geometrically perfect circle.

  He’d told her there was “magic” in a perfect circle. She used to smile and shake her head, and he would insist that all she needed to do was look around at the cosmos to see that round things were fate’s preference: stars, planets, rain drops… and he would smile a cocky, killer smile and nod to his bike before adding wheels to the list.

  Angel flushed a little at the memory of his voice and that smile, but the strange feeling was chased hard with a kind of despair that made her dizzy. She put her hand on the table for balance and yanked her attention ruthlessly back into focus.

  “Assuming this is exactly where the bodies were found,” Hannah added, gesturing to the map.

  “It is,” said Gabriel solemnly.

  “Any idea what’s at the center, then?” asked Casey, who was studying the map carefully now too.

  Angel looked at the map. She happened to know there were several stores, restaurants, coffee shops, apartment complexes, and even a warehouse and a mall in the vicinity outlined by the red circles. But Angel didn’t answer Casey’s question. She couldn’t. Gabriel didn’t respond either, and Angel knew why.

  “Given how perfect this circle is, we should go to the trouble of determining the exact single point center,” said Hannah as she picked up a marker and began drawing on the screen. That’s what the dry-erase had been made for, after all, but Angel didn’t need Hannah to do any calculations. And the more she made, the more worried Angel became.

  She looked over at Gabriel. His eyes met hers.

  It was a general rule that no warden was aware of the “resting place,” or in other words, “home” of another warden. These locations were obviously kept secret so wardens couldn’t accidentally divulge the information if interrogated by the enemy.

  The exceptions to this rule occurred on two counts. One, warden couples or family were clearly given leeway, but that was rare, and inter-clan romance was frowned upon for safety reasons. And then there were the clan leaders. They knew everything about their members, from home addresses to blood types. And Gabriel very well knew where Angel lived.

  Hannah finished with her calculated drawing. Angel’s one-bedroom apartment was at the map’s bulls-eye.

  It’s coincidence, she told herself. It doesn’t mean anything. But she knew she was lying to herself.

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Gabe calmly – too calmly. His gaze captured Angel’s again, and that tension between them seemed to solidify the air she tried so hard to breathe. “Because the last two victims were found in someone else’s jurisdiction. This is officially no longer our case.”

  Angel’s eyes widened.

  “You could have told me that before I put in the work,” said Hannah, who popped the top back on the marker and a little too forcefully set it back down in its holder.

  Angel felt the blood drain from her face. Her eyes flew to the map. He was right. The last two circles had landed across the border of their district. No sooner had they even learned of the Apex killings than the job was thrown into someone else’s lap.

  “Damn it,” swore Casey through clenched teeth. He expressed what they were all feeling.

  “That’s Monsters territory,” said Hannah with a sigh. “The job is theirs now.”

  Like hell, thought Angel. “Please excuse me,” she muttered and spun away from the meeting without another word. She practically threw open the briefing room door to storm out into the hall. But Gabriel was right on her tail.

  His hand enclosed her wrist, but she yanked it back out and turned to face him of her own accord. She leaned in so only he could hear. “Gabe, you saw the same thing I did. There’s some crazy Apex out there with a vendetta against me.”

  Gabriel put his finger against her lips, glanced back over his shoulder, and gave her a look. He leaned in even closer, whispering, “Not here, damn it.” Then he took her arm and lead her down the hall to a room they normally used for interrogations. Angel hated this room. As a rule, the wardens never tortured prisoners for information. But they weren’t opposed to finessing it out of them, which often called for pharmaceuticals. Sometimes there were syringes in this room. Angel hated syringes.

  Right now, the room was empty save for a metal table and a single metal chair. Gabriel closed the door behind him and faced her. “We need to talk.”

  Angel was ready to argue, but the in was just too perfect. She lifted her brows. “You breaking up with me?”

  Gabriel blinked. Then he pursed his lips and clearly tried not to smile. “Have a seat. There’s something you need to know.”

  “You mean other than the fact that an Apex is hunting me?”

  “Yep, pretty much.”

  Now it was Angel’s turn to blink. She didn’t sit down, though. She was too on edge. “Okay, so just tell me what it is, Gabe.”

  “Damn woman, why won’t you just do what I tell –”

  “Gabe!”

  Gabriel took a deep breath, put his hands on his hips, and said, “You remember learning about the Taal during training, right?”

  Angel frowned. The Taal? It had been a while since they’d come up in conversation. “You mean Malek Taal and his band of merry men?”

  Gabe didn’t smile this time though. “Not so merry at the moment.” He let out a sigh and nodded to the chair. “Please sit, Angel.”

  Angel didn’t move. If she sat down, she would probably vibrate the chair.

  Gabriel swore softly, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked down at the floor. He began to pace, muttering something about stubborn people and not needing any more problems than he already had.

  Angel watched him as she chewed on her bottom lip. She ran a hand through her hair and waited. After a few seconds, she finally made a frustrated sound, moved to the chair, pulled it out and sat down. One caged lion in here was enough. But her leg bounced nervously as she waited for her boss to tell her whatever it was he so obviously needed to tell her.

  Gabriel finally turned to face her, planting his boots in a strong stance. He seemed as troubled as ever. “The Taal are attacking mortals. And one of them is after you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Angel listened as Gabriel explained the situa
tion with the Malek Taal. When he finished, she sat still in the chair and processed it. She could handle a rogue Taal.

  Right?

  According to Gabe, he didn’t want to kill her… right?

  But the more she allowed herself to think about it, the more she remembered about the Taal – and what she remembered filled her with dread. So she pushed this new problem to the side with quite a bit of mental force and straightened in her chair.

  She took a deep breath. “Okay. So there’s a second threat I need to be wary of… but from what you’ve just told me, it doesn’t seem related to the Apex killings.”

  “I don’t think it is,” Gabe told her frankly, shaking his handsome head. “But the Vampire King felt it important you be warned about the Taal nonetheless.”

  Angel didn’t want to be a pest, so she kept her smartass comment about the irony of the Vampire King’s warning to herself. But it was as if Gabriel could read her mind, because he gave her a slightly exasperated look.

  “And as far as the Apex case goes,” he said, returning their discussion to its original parameters. “You know the rules, Angel. Officially this job is no longer ours. It belongs to the Monsters.”

  Angel inhaled quickly and started to argue. “But Gabe –”

  “I said, ‘officially,’” he went on, signaling with his hand for her to be quiet. “But yes, I saw what you saw.” He took a deep breath and fell silent.

  In that silence, Angel found herself hoping against hope that he was going to break the rules for once. That he would give her the okay – under the table – to go after the Apex herself. And that was the only reason she remained quiet. She didn’t want to mess up her chances.

  “Letting you take this one on would probably be the dumbest idea I’ve ever had,” said Gabe without looking at her. He was still staring at something in the general vicinity of the floor rather than at her. “Especially with rogue Taal on the rampage. And given your history with….”