Oliver sat down and helped himself to a cup. “I saw the flowers,” he said. “From the families of Dracula’s victims, or something like that?”
“Not at all. They were sent by other vampires. Most of the major factions in the United States are represented there. I expect others will be forthcoming. It is still quite early in the day.”
Oliver blinked. “Other vampires? They’re…they’re thanking us for killing one of them?”
“Dracula is a nuisance,” Seven said. “Nobody can stand him.”
“He makes it very difficult for the vampire community to remain inconspicuous,” Artemis nodded. “A number of them clearly wished to express their gratitude. While I am unconcerned with their opinions, gratitude is always an advantageous thing.” She nodded at Seven. “Fill Mr. Jones in, please.”
Seven hadn’t changed clothes and his hair seemed even more out of place than it had been the last time Oliver had seen him. He must have slept in the office, Oliver realized, if he’d slept at all. “As I thought, the poor bastard was on his last legs. The virus that got the others hit him as well but it didn’t initialize properly, for reasons I don’t understand yet. Rather than disable the nanobots entirely, it made them incapable of self-repair or replication. In time, they just started dying.” He shrugged. “He was barely functional, to tell you the truth. He’d probably been in hiding all this time while he worked out how to get here.”
“How did he get here?” Oliver asked.
“He had a teleportation device built into his armor. It looks like they finally got the technology working. Of course, he was the only one left who could use it.”
“Can you reverse engineer it?” Artemis asked. “It could come in handy.”
“Doubtful. It looks like it burned itself out during the trip, and Sally’s guns did a number on what was left after that. If I had a year, maybe I could come up with something.”
Oliver thought about it. “I’m not an expert, but when I think of teleportation it’s something going from place to place, not…”
“It wouldn’t ordinarily work between worlds,” Seven interrupted. “You’re right. I have no idea how, but he must have found the American Federation’s mirror and been able to analyze it. It was under guard the last I knew, but maybe they threw it in the trash or something. I’m surprised they didn’t smash the thing.”
“That does not answer how he got here,” Artemis pointed out. “Our mirror was smashed.”
“But the shards still exist. That may have been enough for him to get a general location. He only wound up 60 miles away from the vault. We’ll probably never know for sure, though.”
“In any case, remind me to have the rest of our mirror melted down,” Artemis said. “I do hate destroying an artifact, but we have no further use for it, and it seems like it may be more trouble than it’s worth.”
The phone on Artemis’s desk chimed and she pressed the intercom button. “Maria is here,” Bruce’s voice came over the speaker. “She has asked to see you personally. Are you available?”
Artemis considered it for a moment. “Show her back, please.” She clicked the phone off. “This was inevitable.”
Oliver was certain he knew that name, but couldn’t place it at first. “Isn’t she…”
“Yes, you’ve met,” Artemis said. A moment later Maria appeared in the doorway and Oliver knew her immediately. She looked exactly as she had during their first and only meeting six months ago. Maria was Mexican and appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with dark hair and eyes as cold as her blood must be. She wore an immaculate brown suit with heels that made her about five-foot-six. In one hand she carried a small gift-wrapped box. She bowed to Artemis.
“My master sends you greetings,” she said.
“How are you even…” Oliver began. “It’s broad daylight outside. Why haven’t you burned up?”
Maria smiled pleasantly at him and he caught the glint of her fangs. “I never went outside.”
“Do you sunburn in your car, Mr. Jones?” Artemis asked. She looked at Maria. “I receive your master’s greetings and send my own in reply.”
Oliver nearly shook his head. He hadn’t met a great number of vampires, but many of the ones he had tended toward formality. Maria took that several steps farther.
“My master thanks you for your recent kindness and prays you accept this small token,” Maria said, proffering the box. Artemis nodded and Maria sat it down on the desk in front of her.
“Did you all hate Dracula?” Oliver asked as Artemis began to unwrap the box.
Maria glared at him. “He was a…” she hissed angrily before catching herself. “He was unworthy to be among us,” she said, her voice calm again. “I begged my master for the honor of dispatching him myself, but he dislikes for me to leave his side for very long.”
Oliver had met Maria’s “master,” as well. That was John Blackwell, a reclusive hedge fund billionaire who operated out of his estate in Sonoma, in the hilly wine country about an hour northeast of San Francisco. Blackwell was notorious for rarely leaving his property. Oliver had assumed he was just an eccentric until he’d actually met the man and discovered he also had fangs. As far as he knew, John Blackwell was the oldest vampire on the west coast, and certainly one of the most powerful.
“Oh, my,” Artemis said. Oliver looked back to see her holding a small ivory figurine carved into the shape of a mouse. The figurine was astonishingly lifelike; the little mouse looked like it might scurry out of her hand and head for the door at any moment.
“That’s cute,” Oliver said.
“It’s a netsuke,” Artemis said, stroking the mouse with her index finger. She looked at Oliver. “Japanese. Mid-nineteenth century, I’d say. Mr. Blackwell knows I have a fondness for them.” Maria nodded. “Please convey my appreciation of this kind gift to your master.”
“My master apologizes that it is such a humble thing,” Maria said.
“It is gratefully received.”
“As you say, it will be done. I will now depart.”
“Be well, Maria.”
Maria turned and left the office. Seven looked at the netsuke curiously. “You want me to carbon date that?”
“Of course not,” Artemis said. “It would be a crime to damage it.” She placed the netsuke delicately on her desk and stroked its head.
“Is there a reason we fight some vampires and leave others alone?” Oliver asked.
“Is it not obvious?” Artemis asked. Oliver waited until she looked at him as she might a small, stupid child. “Have you ever heard of vampires terrorizing Solano County?”
“Of course not. There would be a panic.”
“Have you ever heard of a vampire terrorizing small villages in Romania?”
“Well, yes. That’s why you sent us there.”
“There is your answer. In any case, John Blackwell no doubt believes he owes me a favor now. Another favor, I should say. I spoke rather firmly to him after he failed to protect you at his estate.”
Oliver nodded. Sally had taken him to hide out at Blackwell’s house while the lizard people had been hunting him. One of the vampire’s servants had bitten him in an attempt to turn him into a vampire and stage a coup against Blackwell. It hadn’t ended well for her. Oliver’s body had violently rejected vampire blood, and Maria had torn the servant’s head off with her bare hands as punishment.
Maria reminded Oliver a little bit of an iceberg. On the surface, she looked harmless. It was what lay underneath that could tear you to bits. She was the only person Sally had ever shown the slightest bit of fear about dealing with.
“I guess you’re right,” Oliver said.
“I’ve been doing this for a very long time,” Artemis said. “Of course I am right. How was your evening?”
“Fine, thanks.” Artemis stared at him. “Oh, right, you don’t make small talk. Nothing unusual happened. I watched TV with Jeffrey and went to bed.”
Artemis nodded. “Very good. That is more or
less what I expected. Have you spoken with Sally?”
“No. Is she going to be in today?”
“She will not. Tyler is keeping an eye on her.”
Oliver hesitated, not sure about his next question. “How is she doing?”
“She is traumatized. That was to be expected. I believe last night was the first time she ever had to face what she did. I do not imagine it was easy for her. Frankly, I would send her on vacation, but she has nobody in her life other than us and I don’t want her to be alone. In the past I felt that working was the best thing for her. I believe that remains the case.”
“Yeah.”
“Take the day to catch up on your reading, Mr. Jones. You will very likely need at least some of the information contained there in the future. Remember, information is our greatest weapon.”
Oliver did exactly that. He intended to merely skim through the stack of files to make a good dent in it, but got caught up reading about a case dating back to 1932. A British submarine had sunk near Dorset, killing the entire crew. It took the British eight days to find it. Artemis’s team had found it in three. Two of them had even gone down to the wreck to retrieve something identified only as “Package A-32.” There was no mention in the file as to exactly what the package was or what it did, but it had been moved to the vault in southern Virginia shortly afterward.
The vaults fascinated Oliver. The Araneae Group had five of them scattered around the world. Each was located deep underground in a fortified bunker. Each had only one access point protected by heavily-armed security personnel. The security officers couldn’t actually reach the vaults they protected themselves; that was reserved for Artemis and her teams. Access required retinal scanning and voice print analysis. The vaults were the resting places of various artifacts and devices The Araneae Group had collected over the years. The things inside were either too dangerous to be exposed to the outside world, or they were things that needed to be protected until they were needed in the outside world. The nearest one was Vault 3, in Santa Clara, just an hour south of San Francisco. Tyler had gone down there on the day Oliver had accepted Artemis’s offer to join the group in order to retrieve an item they needed for his first assignment. In hindsight, Oliver wished he’d gone along as well. He was curious what kind of wonders he might discover inside.
He’d find out sooner or later, most likely. Artemis ordered regular inspections of the vaults and their contents, and most of the company’s files were kept in them as well. If Oliver got through the stack he was working through quickly, perhaps he could make an offer to run down to Santa Clara to pick up more in order to “further his education.” And while he was down there, he could take a look around. Maybe he’d find the Ark of the Covenant sitting on a shelf. There were probably stranger things to be discovered there.
Oliver left the office just after 5:00 and took a crowded Muni train almost to its final stop, two blocks from his house. As unpleasantly crowded as the train could be, it was often faster than driving from one end of the city to the other at rush hour. By the time the train crossed 19th Avenue it was only about half full, making the rest of the ride a bit more pleasant. Oliver considered making a stop to pick up some cheap take-out, but decided he might order a pizza when he got home instead.
The Sunset district was the only place in San Francisco Oliver had ever seriously considered living in. The hustle and bustle of the Marina or the Mission might appeal more to some, but the Sunset had a lazy residential feel that he liked. It was lined with small houses and had a wide variety of restaurants, and the nearest grocery store was close enough that getting there and back wasn’t the hassle it would have been elsewhere in the city.
This was where he had met Jeffrey, who had been one of the neighborhood’s many stray cats. He’d come to Oliver’s windowsill one night to beg for scraps, although Jeffrey would have described it as “asking very politely” rather than begging. Oliver had given him some of his own dinner, and the cat had become a regular visitor after that. And then one night, in what was the first manifestation of Oliver’s “power,” he’d given Jeffrey the ability to speak. The cat had been so shocked by this development he’d immediately run away.
Oliver hadn’t seen the cat again for some time. Eventually Jeffrey returned, demanding to be “put back” to the way he had been before. But on the same night Oliver had been attacked by the Kalatari, the lizard people who believed in a prophecy that Oliver would destroy them. Much to Oliver’s surprise, that had proven to be exactly the case. By the time it was all over, Jeffrey had decided he liked being able to speak. Not that it would have mattered much if he hadn’t. Oliver had never been able to control his power. It hadn’t manifested again in any capacity since the night the Kalatari had met their fate.
In a way, he thought, he and Sally had that much in common. While he hadn’t meant to destroy the Kalatari and would never even have known of their existence had they not shown up at his house, he did have to live with the guilt of what he had done. He could relate to what Sally must be feeling now, at least in some small measure.
Jeffrey wasn’t in the house when Oliver got home. The cat still had a certain amount of wanderlust left over from his days roaming the streets, and Oliver typically left his kitchen window open in case he felt the need to get out and stretch his legs.
Oliver turned his television on to the local news and began rummaging through his kitchen cupboards. He had the ingredients to make a simple stir-fry, if he wanted to, but pizza still didn’t sound bad. He wondered what Jeffrey would want. The cat insisted that he have dry food and water available at all times in the house, but still wanted some of what Oliver was eating most nights.
Oliver was checking the sell-by date on a package of chicken tenders when he heard a scampering at the windowsill behind him. “How was your day?” he asked, turning around. “You see any…” Oliver trailed off. As he’d expected, Jeffrey was sitting on the windowsill. Next to him sat another cat Oliver had never seen before.
“Meow,” Jeffrey said.
“Oh,” Oliver said. “Um…” He wasn’t sure how to react. He’d never seen Jeffrey with another cat before. He hadn’t even realized Jeffrey knew any other cats. Weren’t male cats generally solitary animals, anyway? Then again, Jeffrey was hardly a normal cat anymore.
“Meow,” Jeffrey said again.
Oliver hesitated “I was just…going to make some dinner, I think.”
“Meow,” Jeffrey said, nodding almost imperceptibly.
“I wonder what I should make,” Oliver said. “I mean, that’s what I’m asking myself right now, obviously, because I normally talk to myself in my own kitchen, and never to anyone else. I mean, unless they spoke English, and there’s nobody else here who speaks English, I guess.”
Jeffrey stared at him.
“I have some chicken in the refrigerator,” Oliver said. “Maybe I’ll fry it up with some bell peppers?”
“Meow,” Jeffrey said, shaking his head ever so slightly. The other cat began washing its front legs with its tongue.
“I could order pizza?” Jeffrey appeared to be scowling at him now. “Chinese? Thai? Maybe Italian?” Jeffrey glanced at the freezer door, then back at Oliver. “I guess I’ll check the freezer. Want to cover all my bases.” He opened the freezer door. “Let’s see. I’ve got frozen peas, frozen green beans, frozen corn, some of that tortellini soup I made last week. You liked that. I mean, I liked that. Frozen shrimp…”
“Meow,” said Jeffrey.
“Okay.” Oliver took the bag of shrimp and shut the freezer door. He looked at the bag thoughtfully. “Big problem with these shrimp is that they’re frozen and it would take a few hours for them to thaw.” Jeffrey glanced at one of the kitchen cabinets. “But there’s a colander in there, of course.” He took a plastic colander out of the cabinet and put it in the sink, then dumped the frozen shrimp into it. Running water would thaw the shrimp in a matter of minutes. “Well,” Oliver said. “I guess I wonder if I want to eat the
shrimp raw tonight.” Jeffrey glared at him. “No, I’ll definitely cook it. But now I can’t remember what spices I like. I mean, I know I like spicy food, but not everybody does, and it’s important I be considerate of my guests, even though I don’t actually have any.” Jeffrey nodded. “So I won’t make it spicy. Maybe I’ll just sauté it with a little bit of…lime?” Jeffrey shook his head. “Taco seasoning? Chili powder? Cumin and paprika?”
“Meow,” said Jeffrey.
“Okay, cumin and paprika it is. I’ll get right on that.” Once the shrimp had thawed, Oliver peeled them and dried them with paper towels, then seasoned them with salt, pepper, cumin, and some mild paprika. Jeffrey watched the process intently, while the other cat began washing its forehead. Oliver put a sauté pan on the stove with a knob of butter and cooked the shrimp until they began to change color. He fished one out of the pan and tasted it. “Okay, that’s pretty good, and by the way I’m never doing this again, so I really hope I enjoy this shrimp tonight, because it’s the last time I cook shrimp for myself in my own house.”
“Meow,” Jeffrey said.
Oliver plated half a dozen of the shrimp and started for the windowsill, moving slowly so as not to startle the other cat. Jeffrey glared at him. “I…wonder what the problem is,” Oliver said. “This shrimp looks and tastes perfect. It’s delicious.” Jeffrey considered that for a moment, then slowly put one paw out to his left and the other out to his right. He slowly looked from one to the other and back again.
“My hands aren’t clean?” Oliver asked. “I’m not going to eat with my hands.” Jeffrey glared at him and looked back at the space between his paws, opening his mouth wide. “Oh,” Oliver said. “Of course. These shrimp are much too big for me to eat comfortably.” He took the plate back to the kitchen counter and began cutting them into small pieces. “Now I’ll be able to eat these shrimp with no problem, and I’m also going to owe myself a huge favor for all the time I’ve taken to do this, so I better be damn sure I never pee anywhere I’m not supposed to ever again…”
Interesting Places (Interesting Times #2) Page 5