Red Widow (Vivian Xu, Book 1)

by Nathan Wilson

  Syllax.

  The slam of a door rattled the walls of the house. Every nerve in Camilla’s body ignited in dismay.

  “Nikolai,” she breathed. Her body hurled across the room toward the windows, fumbling for the latch. It took mere seconds to realize she was trapped. There was no mechanism to open the window.

  “Shit!”

  With the last bout of adrenaline, she flung herself to the floor and crawled under the bed. Several anguished heartbeats later, the bedroom door burst open.

  “Damn it! I can’t let this happen!” Malice dripped from Nikolai’s voice, punctuating each word. “How did she find out?!”

  Camilla slowly reached into her pocket. She pulled out her recorder. She winced as it turned on with a beep, hopeful he wouldn’t hear anything.

  She pressed record.

  Nikolai jerked to a stop. He looked around the room, becoming deathly silent. A fragrance so reminiscent of vanilla permeated his room. He sniffed the air, tasting Camilla’s perfume.

  “Emily?” he whispered. He swiveled toward his daughter’s room, half-expecting the door to creak open. When it did not, Nikolai lifted a trembling hand to his head.

  That omnipresent pain never leaved, much like the emotional scars that stippled his heart. He retrieved his pistol and ejected the magazine, spilling bullets across the floor. One of the slugs rolled under the bed and tickled Camilla’s fingers.

  Nikolai flung open the drawers to the dresser, his eyes roaming across neatly pressed shirts and slacks. He dug through them with fury until his hand closed around an antique jewelry box. He cradled it in the palm of his hand the way a priest might hold a chalice. With a flick of his wrist, he revealed the treasure inside: little totems of steel gleaming in the hazy sunlight.

  He caressed one of the bullets between his fingertips, respectful of the deadly power it possessed. The jacket was cut at the hollow, allowing it to unfold to six sharp petals after penetration.

  The sharp claws would tear through flesh with brutal efficiency, eviscerating any organs in its path. Even when the bullets had inflicted the maximum damage to the victim, its talons would still pose a risk to any coroner rooting through the skull.

  “You’ve left me with no choice, Vivian—” He meticulously thumbed the bullets into a fresh magazine. Cocking the pistol, he reached for his pager. Fresh static crackled as he lifted it to his lips.

  “I’m calling to issue an arrest warrant for Vivian Xu. She is responsible for the murder of an innocent bystander. I need several units to canvass the downtown area. Consider Xu armed and extremely dangerous. Lethal force is hereby authorized.”

  Camilla almost cried out from under the bed. That son of a bitch! He’s going to pin the murders on Vivian?! Why is he doing this?!

  Nikolai swooned drunkenly toward his dresser, catching himself before he could bash his head on the ledge.

  “Fuck, it’s getting worse,” he gasped wretchedly. “No, I can’t do this anymore… I can’t.”

  Still shaking from anger, Camilla inched forward, straining to peer out from under the bed. What was he trying to restrain himself from doing? She could hear him breathing arduously like a man on his death bed. His legs began to quake and his knees buckled.

  His entire body jerked forward with such violence that she thought he would keel over. She heard a sigh escape his lips.

  Suddenly, his body collapsed to the carpet at a bizarre angle. Nikolai’s head struck the floor, his glazed eyes staring into Camilla’s.

  She screamed. She saw his fingers twitching in search of his gun, but his body wouldn’t respond. If he could move, he would surely tear her apart. A discarded syringe lay on the carpet, emptied of the strange substance.

  Camilla seized his handgun and scavenged the hollow-point bullets. With a twist of her hips, she rushed toward the drawer and stuffed the syringes into her purse. A moan emanated from Nikolai, an inhuman sound frothing with anger. She could feel the hate oozing from him. He tried to throw his body forward on his belly, but he only managed a pitiful slither.

  Camilla’s heel slammed into his face.

  “That’s for the letter you sent me!”

  He was helpless to reply through the blood dribbling down his nose, but his dilated pupils absorbed Camilla’s every detail. Memorizing his prey’s face. Camilla stumbled away and locked the bedroom door before she fled down the stairs.

  SEVENTEEN

  Vivian woke the next day.

  She sighed and rubbed her aching head as fleeting images from dreams departed. What little she remembered from last night’s terrors made her curl up in a defensive ball. There were so many corridors lined with cages in her dream. Each cage housed a little girl huddled in the corner, dressed in rags and covered in filth.

  Agate stood in the background, ornamented in the finest lynx pelts and lustrous gems. She was the spitting image of Lady Danica Vesely, ripe with cruelty and malice. Vivian realized with horror that she was trapped in a Magdalene asylum. She screamed as she rattled the iron bars of her cage, pleading for release. Her anguished screams were to no avail, and she was restrained as her long hair was shaved off in the first of many humiliating rituals.

  In her dream, Vivian was forced into needlework, where she sewed altar cloths and habits until her fingers forgot their function. If she did not sew fast enough, she was punched or slapped by the nuns. Other times, she was flogged simply for being too pretty and tempting to boys. Over the course of her internment, she came to believe she deserved this punishment, and she craved it.

  Her existence was a sin because she inflamed the most deviant desires in the hearts of men. It was not their fault for thinking the way they did. No, the blame rested solely on her because of her perky breasts, her exotic face, and her shapely lips. These were the tools of sin, tools that would earn her an eternal reprieve in Hell unless she paid penance. And blood was the only form of penance accepted.

  Vivian woke up when she felt Agate’s dream-like hands stripping away her clothes. The scream died in her chest when the walls of the Magdalene asylum dissolved around her. Her clothes were still attached, but they were soaked in cold sweat. She was sprawled in the alley where she fell asleep last night.

  She touched the pavement, confirming it was real and not a continuation of her dream. Of course, that wasn’t much of a reassurance. As long as Syllax gushed through her veins, she could be imagining every detail. It was just a different breed of nightmare, one that stalked her into the waking world.

  She stiffened as she heard the distant cries and laughter of children. It sounded unnatural, almost otherworldly in the alleys.

  Vivian looked over her shoulder and froze.

  “It can’t be…” She scampered away from the narrow passageway. Was it a coincidence that her soul was lured to this place? She had fallen asleep just beyond the alley where the vagrant assaulted her and died. It moaned for her to take a peek, to revisit that delicious guilt. Had she really pointed her gun at him and squeezed the trigger?

  She could suddenly picture a scene reminiscent of her vicious encounter with Viktor. Police tape would stretch across the alley, and a pool of blood would froth on the pavement. This time, Nikolai wouldn’t stand by to offer her a second chance.

  Vivian peeked around the corner. She jumped as her pockets buzzed angrily. She dug out her phone only to be greeted by a strange voice.

  “Vivian?”

  “Who is this?”

  “Nikolai.” He sounded hoarse on the other end, almost disembodied. “Vivian, I need to see you.”

  “What? Right now?”

  “No. Meet me in the alley behind Luxus Pavilion tonight at 11 p.m. Until then, I need you to stay out of sight. Speak to no one and trust no one.”

  Vivian bristled as the sounds of playful children swirled around her.

  “Is something the matter? You sound…”

  “Everything is fine, Vivian. Thanks to you, we’re one step closer to ending this nightmare.”

  “D
id you find the killer?” The lengthy pause left Vivian salivating for answers.

  “We’ll discuss everything in person when we meet. You’ve been a great boon to this investigation. Never forget that. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Okay. See you then.” The rarest of smiles graced her face. She prayed that Nikolai had apprehended the killer, and this meeting was merely his formal way of concluding her services. At this point, she hardly cared about the cash reward anymore. She simply wanted to go home and fall asleep in the comfort of her bed. She yearned to curl up next to the fireplace and listen to her mother hum from the kitchen while she chopped, steamed, sautéed, fried, and baked. She wanted to hear the front door creak open as her father returned from work just in time for supper.

  Those memories faded.

  An impulse like no other wrenched her back into reality. She remembered what she was doing seconds before Nikolai called. The alley where she murdered the vagrant was virtually humming with decay, taunting her to sate her curiosity.

  Her hands shook and glistening sweat crawled down her skin. She took a deep breath and peered into the alley.

  The body was gone.

  * * *

  Luxus Pavilion was once a trendy mall that catered to the fashion tastes of teenage girls. Four years ago, it fell into disrepair and never recovered from the blow.

  Vivian’s eyes danced across the shambles that once housed a budding collection of shops and boutiques. The last time she came here, she was picking out shoes with her mother. The youthful vibe and sound of Europop was now replaced with sinister ambience. The gnarled gates had been forced opened, and a chain and padlock lay disposed of on the ground. It had been cleanly severed by a bolt cutter. With a determined stride, she swept through the gates and rounded the corner of the building. This must have been the backstreet where delivery trucks pulled up with the latest batch of high design shoes and jeans.

  She jerked to a stop when she saw the audience assembled. In place of delivery trucks, there were two squad cars flanked by three police officers. A fourth figure swathed in a jacket stood off to the side, his rabid gaze fixated on Vivian. The expression on Nikolai’s face startled her. He looked hostile, almost like a wild animal loosed from its cage. His nose also looked misshapen since the last time she encountered him.

  “Vivian,” he acknowledged, holding out his hand.

  “Nikolai.” As soon as his hand closed around hers, Vivian screamed. Red hot pain scorched through her fingers all the way to her shoulder blades. Nikolai’s eyes widened when he saw the rash consuming her arm.

  Without warning, he swooped forward and seized her arm, his eyes almost pressed against the black vein under her skin.

  “Stop it! That hurts!”

  “What the hell have you been shooting up?!” he exclaimed. “It looks like this tissue is dead!”

  “I haven’t shot up anything!” She wrestled her arm from his grip. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why did you call me here? And what are they doing here?” She venomously indicated the officers in the shadows.

  Nikolai sighed heavily and dismissed them to their patrol cars. His eyes roamed across Vivian’s face, taking in her raw beauty along with the imperfection.

  “I’ve put you through hell in such a short period of time,” he whispered. “I can see it in your eyes. You’ve seen the same disgusting hell that I’ve been trapped inside for years. You’ve seen the bodies piling up in the streets. You’ve seen the atrocities humans are capable of committing against their fellow man. You’ve seen just how guilty we all are of evil. Can you imagine how hideous I feel, knowing that I dragged you into this? Because of me, you’ve had to endure more than any sane person should have to bear. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me.”

  “I don’t hate you, Nikolai,” she said, rubbing her arm. “…but you are a soulless bastard.”

  Nikolai cracked a smile, but it quickly faded.

  “Vivian, I owe you a debt of gratitude that I may never live to fulfill. You’ve done more for this investigation in a few weeks than an entire police department accomplished in months. And you’ve done more for the victims and their families than I could have ever hoped to achieve by myself.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You’ve done so much…” He closed his eyes. “…which is why it pains me to say I no longer require your services.”

  “Why? Did you catch him?”

  “No, Vivian, we didn’t. The killer continues to elude us. However, your recent actions lead me to believe I can no longer rely on your judgment.”

  “What actions are you talking about? Are you letting me go?”

  “If only that were the case.” Nikolai brushed his hand against his jacket as if to rid himself of a disease. “A BIS agent named Tatiana Pražakova was murdered two days ago. Her body was found in the downtown alleys with a gunshot wound in her chest. Witnesses described the killer as a female approximately 18 to 21 years old.”

  Vivian’s stomach clenched.

  “According to eyewitness testimony, Tatiana confronted the girl and began questioning her. Without seemingly any provocation, the girl pulled out a gun and fired a single round into her chest. The agent died almost instantly.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Nikolai ignored her, intent on telling his story.

  “Most telling of all were the descriptions the witnesses provided. The killer is said to have long red hair and every inch of her flesh is covered in tattoos.” His eyes glinted dangerously. “She also had a birthmark shaped like an hourglass.”

  Vivian’s brain couldn’t take anymore. Her memories were spinning in a cyclone of confusion. She could barely remember the night when she encountered the vagrant. But he couldn’t be an agent… and he was a man, not a woman.

  “Where were you?” Nikolai demanded.

  “But—but this doesn’t make any sense. I was attacked…” She backed away. “No, that can’t be right!” She ducked as Nikolai shoved a photo in her face.

  “Does she look familiar?” he demanded. “Do you remember looking into her eyes as they turned dark and empty? As she took her last breaths through the hole in her lungs?” Vivian ogled the crime scene photo of Tatiana Pražakova. Her raven hair was sprawled on the pavement in a morbid halo. Her pose was both woeful and elegant, her arms spread wide to embrace her imminent destruction. And destruction flowed from her chest in a sluicing tide.

  Vivian’s lips trembled.

  “I don’t know…”

  Nikolai remained ominously silent before uttering three words she dreaded.

  “I’m sorry, Vivian.”

  She stared into the barrel of his gun.

  “Nikolai—”

  “You have the right to remain silent, and anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to consult with an attorney and to have that attorney present during questioning—” Screeching tires wailed in the distance as Vivian crumpled to her knees. “—if you are indigent, an attorney will be provided at no cost to represent you. Do you understand your rights?”

  Vivian bowed her head in despair.

  “No…”

  Tires screamed in agony as a dark sedan rounded the alley. Vivian paled in the glare of the headlights as it bore down on her like a bullet. Nikolai dove out of its path, leaving Vivian unguarded. The car slammed to a halt mere inches away from her.

  “Get in!” Camilla screamed from behind the wheel. Vivian mindlessly yanked open the passenger door and dove inside.

  “Vivian!” Nikolai roared, brandishing his gun. A bullet spat against the gravel as the tires spun and took off. She rocked in her seat as they veered onto the main roads. Oncoming traffic screeched to a halt as Camilla cut across several lanes brimming with taxis. Vivian almost leaped out of her seat when she heard Nikolai’s voice.

  “We are in pursuit of a suspect in a dark green sedan with a busted tail light. They’re heading south along the D2 motorway. We need road block assistance immediately!”
r />   Vivian looked at the police scanner in Camilla’s car. So that’s how she found her…

  The blistering engine roared as the speedometer veered toward 90 miles per hour.

  “You’re going to kill us both!” Vivian screamed above the grating police chatter.

  “Just shut up and hold on!” Vivian flailed with her seat belt and strapped herself in. A beaming police car crested the horizon behind them, wailing in fury.

  Camilla’s car peeled off the road and barreled through an overgrown field. An autumn forest sprouted on the horizon, heralding them away from their pursuers. Camilla viciously slammed her foot on the gas. Vivian shut her eyes as branches clawed against the windshield. The car veered psychotically past a lofty oak that threatened to tear the speeding vehicle in half.

  “Camilla!”

  Vivian watched helplessly as she wrenched the steering wheel to the left, just skirting another tree that reared up to block them. Camilla’s foot felt glued to the accelerator in a symbiotic dance of destruction. They careened onto a natural dirt path as they bucked toward 70 miles an hour.

  Before they knew it, a red stag appeared in their path. They screamed simultaneously as the car swerved to avoid it. Vivian closed her eyes just before the sickening crunch.

  While she expected to feel shards of glass digging into her flesh and a blood-stained fur clotting her lungs, there was only silence. Had her soul already been torn from her body and ejected into the void?

  No, that couldn’t be. She shouldn’t be feeling pain in the afterlife.

  She bravely opened her eyes. The car had barreled into the thickets, averting disaster by some stroke of luck. She turned to Camilla, whose face was veiled behind a disarray of hair. A fresh bruise was stamped on her lip.

  The police scanner sizzled and the voices on the other end dwindled to whispers.

  “They shouldn’t find us out here unless they bring dogs,” Camilla said. She watched the branches sigh and bend in the melancholy wind. For the longest time, neither of them spoke. “I’m sorry about the article. It was a mistake.”