Vida frowned at his thunder being stolen. “Yes, and the residue was similar to some of the results I got after running tests on the Shinigami that attacked the station. So, I went back and ran those samples again, to compare the two. This time, nothing.”
“What are you saying, Vida?”
“I’m saying that something was there, then, but is gone now. That same something is detectable in the sample from our John Doe. I think it’s some sort of arcane residue, and the reason you wizards have been able to hide your existence for so long was that arcane residue fades and is inherently hard to prove the existence of,” Vida replied, raising his hands with a flourish.
“I think you’re right,” Kasey replied. “Spells do leave a lingering residue in their wake that wizards can feel, it makes sense that it would be detectable if you knew what you were looking for. I’m confident that whatever went into our John Doe, it had an arcane component in the mix.”
Vida eyed her warily, “You already knew that, how?”
“I've been doing a little research of my own.”
It was the only thing that explained the sudden nature of the man's transformation. It had to be some kind of arcane working. The fact that the Libro Sanguis had been stolen was a second clue. Someone experimenting with Druidic rituals might be using arcane engineering to facilitate other changes in the human form.
“I learned what was in the book that was stolen. Turns out it has some connection with this kind of magic.”
It was a long way from the whole truth, but Kasey couldn't divulge her family’s history. Neither did she want to.
Vida leaned on the table. “You'll never guess what else we discovered.”
Kasey wasn't particularly in the mood for guessing games. It would be easier to pander to his pride.
“You've got me on that one. No idea what else you might have found.”
“Vampire venom,” Vida replied, pointing at the John Doe. “The same stuff we found in that creature whose head you left here the other day.”
“Vampire venom?” Kasey repeated. “You're sure?”
“We ran the test twice,” Bishop replied, “It's the same stuff as your friends in the Feudal Court. Which means the man in the cowl was likely one of theirs too.”
Which made sense. Her first guess was that the man had been a wizard. Dressed like that it was to be expected. But a vampire made just as much sense. Sunlight could be dangerous to them. Venturing out in the early hours of dawn with his skin exposed would have been terminal for a lesser vampire.
“I hate vampires,” Kasey muttered, scratching at her scalp. “I kind of hoped they had quit town after we kicked their ass. Cal certainly hasn't been able to turn up much trace of them.”
“Probably because they’ve been busy plotting the next stage of their plan,” Vida replied lifting the John Doe’s hulking arm up before letting it go. It hit the table with a resounding clang. “You trashed their facility rescuing me, but that was a massive operation. There had to be more going on there than just organ transplants. They were probably manufacturing whatever crazy drugs they gave to our friend here.”
Kasey wished they hadn't been so quick to let the fire take the building with it.
“I think you're right,” Kasey said, “and I think that the tome they stole contains information that will help them refine and perfect their formula.”
“What makes you think it needs work?” Bishop asked, pointing at the body on the table. “Looks pretty impressive to me.”
“Certainly, but once he was done, our vampire friend blew out this poor man's brains, which probably means he didn't get the outcome he was hoping for. With the help of the Libro Sanguis, he might be able to stabilize the formula. I think we can all agree this dumpster fire can't be the end goal, right?” Kasey asked.
“That's a truly horrifying thought,” Bishop replied. “He was dangerous enough as is. That thing could have torn a person in half.”
“Exactly. We need to find out where they are working on this stuff and destroy it, before any more gets out into the city,” Kasey said. “That has to be a number one priority.”
Maybe Cal could get a few more of his pack and widen the search. Now that they knew what they were looking for, perhaps they would have more success.
It would certainly narrow down the search grid. They were looking for a large facility that could be used to research and manufacture samples of this compound.
Kasey lifted her eyes from the corpse on the table to the whiteboard where they had pinned a map of Manhattan. As she did, she couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the TV.
The preacher she had seen outside the Ninth Precinct filled the screen, and the bottom news ticker read 'preacher warns against witches.'
“What is this idiot up to now?” Kasey asked. “Vida, can you turn that up?”
Vida grabbed the remote off the side table and un-muted the news report.
The preacher's charismatic voice filled the morgue. “We live in unusual times, Stan. Supernatural beings walk the streets of our city, and it is easy to believe we can put our trust in them to deliver us, but I will remind you that it is only a few months since one of these wizards was trying to destroy the city and everyone in it.”
The host, the local ratings junkie, Stan Goodman, nodded along as the preacher spoke.
“So what should the good people of New York City do?” the host asked, giving the preacher the easiest slow ball question he could.
“Simple. We must turn to God and reject all witchcraft.”
There was a round of applause from the studio and Kasey shook her head in disbelief. “He's going to turn the entire city against us. We need to do something about him.”
“Free speech,” Bishop replied. “Not a lot we can hold him on. At least not yet.”
“So we need to wait until the lynch mob forms and kills someone before we react,” Kasey replied.
“One thing at a time,” Bishop replied. “First, we stop these new drugs and whatever the Feudal Court is up to. Then we look into our friend the preacher, alright?”
Kasey balled her hands into fists. How she wished she had had a moment to speak with him this afternoon. Give him a piece of her mind.
It would have certainly been a terrible idea, but it would have made her feel better.
Her phone ringing brought her thoughts back to the present.
She reached down and pulled her phone out of her pocket. As she looked down at the phone, her heart skipped a beat.
It was Cal.
Chapter Ten
Kasey had been hoping to hear from Cal all day. The revelation that it was the Feudal Court who had been responsible for the robbery at Casimir's only served to heighten the need to track them down.
Kasey pointed to the license plate and looked at Bishop. “Mind running that one for me? I'd like to know who it was that was trying to kill me.”
Bishop picked up the piece of twisted and scorched steel and headed for Vida's office.
Kasey answered her phone. “Hey, Cal.”
Leader of one of New York City's werewolf packs, Cal was the literal successor to his father Lincoln Strode. While other packs had initially rejected his claim, Cal continued to gain influence and strength. His newfound relationship with the Arcane Council, courtesy of working on Kasey's task force, hadn't hurt either.
“Hey Kasey, have you got a minute?”
“For you, always,” Kasey replied, pulling up a stool.
“We have been hunting for the Feudal Court since that mess at the medical centre, but they are taking great care not to congregate. They know that the more of them that assemble, the easier it is for us to locate them. We believe most of them are laying low, hibernating during the day and feeding at night. We've been working a grid across the city, following reports of missing persons in an attempt to triangulate their position.”
“Any luck? I don't know if you've heard that they have upped the ante on me. Put a price on my head—five million dol
lars. I've spent the day dodging assassins and trying to work out what they're up to.”
“A bounty? That might explain it.”
“Explain what?” Kasey asked, tapping her foot on the smooth linoleum floor of the morgue.
“This weird ass scene we just stumbled into. We finally picked up a trail this morning near the New York Harbor district. It took us a while to track it to its source but when we found a large warehouse, we staked it out for a few hours. When nothing moved, me and the boys stormed the place, but they were all already dead.”
“The vampires?” Kasey asked, a little confused. Vampires were more often the predator than the prey.
“Yes, every single one of them. The place was a charnel house. Corpses everywhere, severed heads and vampires staked against crates and walls. Something went through there in a big way, Kasey. And whatever it was, it massacred more than a dozen of them.”
The thought brought a smile to Kasey's face. “I can't say I'm sorry to hear that. Any idea what it was?”
“The blood patterns are consistent with a sword, so we are definitely dealing with something humanoid, but it’s hard to tell. I’m not getting any trace of residual arcane energy, which is odd. Perhaps they met with one of their bounty hunters and things went poorly.”
“I certainly hope not,” Kasey replied. “I'd rather not deal with some insane ninja warrior trying to kill me. It's been a long enough day already. Did you find any indication of why they were there in the first place?”
Cal took a deep breath. “Nothing concrete, but one of the boys ran through the paperwork and found a reference to an appointment this evening at midnight. It caught their eye because it was labelled simply Nightmare.”
“That's not ominous at all,” Kasey replied. It could mean that whatever the Night Crew and the Feudal Court had planned, it was going down tonight at midnight. That didn't give Kasey much time at all. “You didn't find any trace of pharmaceutical equipment or blood transfusion machinery, did you?”
“None at all, why?”
“This morning, the Court attacked a secondhand bookstore in Brooklyn called Casimir's. They stole a book with some nasty rituals in it. We believe they’re using blood magic mixed with some sort of pharmacological aid to create thralls that are stronger than usual. “
“Sounds like bad news. Those ones we faced in the medical centre were bad enough,” Cal replied, his footsteps echoing as he wandered through the warehouse.
“And these ones are worse.” Kasey looked at the body on the table before her. “The one we encountered this morning tore a steel security door free from its fixtures.”
“How did you put it down?” Cal asked.
“We didn't. Its master did.”
“That seems unusual. Where did you say this went down?”
“Casimir's in Brooklyn,” Kasey said. Her eyes were roaming to the TV screen where the preacher was still railing on. The interview seemed to be taking place in some kind of church. Then she noted the headline on the news banner. Live Report.
Something had to be done about this preacher, and much as she hated the thought, she was probably the best person to deal with him. She was, after all New York’s most recognizable witch. With progress stalled on her case, there was no time like the present.
“I might head over there and check it out,” Cal replied. “If we can get a scent, we might be able to find where they're hiding.”
“Be careful, Cal. There are plenty of dangerous people on the streets tonight. Most of them are looking for me, but they may try to use you to get to me. Keep your head down and gather as many of your pack as you can muster.”
“I'll be ready,” Cal said, “and if I find anything else, I'll let you know.”
“Thanks Cal,” Kasey replied. “Stay safe.”
She killed the call and tapped her finger against its screen, bringing up a search engine. After a quick search, she zeroed in on what she was looking for.
A location for the preacher’s live broadcast. According to the readout, the interview was taking place live at Our Lady of Truth. She had an idea, one that she was confident Bishop wouldn't be a fan of, but it was the best chance of changing the narrative before the city descended into violence. There were already bounty hunters roaming the street. The last thing she needed was the people of New York to turn against her as well.
Another quick search on her phone produced the number for Stan Goodman's studio. The show was titled Good Night New York and was run by one of the local broadcasting corporations. Kasey dialed the number and waited. After a few rings, a woman's voice filled the line.
“Good Night New York, this is Sally. How can I direct your call?”
“Stan Goodman, please,” Kasey said.
“I'm afraid that won't be possible. Mr. Goodman is in the middle of an interview.”
“I'm well aware of that. In fact, it's the reason for my call. My name is Kasey Chase.”
She let the line go silent. There were few news outlets in New York City who didn't know who she was. Kasey just prayed Sally was situationally aware enough to understand who was calling.
“Yes, that one, and I'm watching Mr. Goodman's broadcast right now. I must say I'm disappointed by the one-sided nature of the correspondence being presented. I thought I would call and give Mr. Goodman the opportunity of a lifetime.”
“And what would that be?” Sally asked, her voice quiet and reserved.
“An exclusive interview with me this evening. I haven't said a word to the press, but if Stan is willing, I'll give him the opportunity other reporters have been killing for.”
“That's all very good, Miss Chase, but I'm afraid he's out on location. I don't know that I can reach him.”
“Then call the producer. This is a one night only deal. I'm heading over to the church now. Either they mic me up and put me on stage, or the opportunity goes to another station. Your call, Sally. What's it gonna be?”
“I'll make it happen,” Sally said. “Head on over to Our Lady of Truth. It's on the corner of West Fifty-Seventh and Eleventh Avenue. They will be ready for you.”
Kasey cut the call and smiled to herself. If there was one thing you could rely on, it was journalistic hunger. As she slipped her phone into her pocket, the enormity of what she had done settled on her.
She hated public attention and she had just offered to go on prime-time TV. In hindsight, she probably should have consulted the Council. They were carefully trying to monitor the public perception of the supernatural community. But Kasey didn't feel she could wait that long.
Every minute this preacher sat spewing lies and vitriol into a camera, New York City's citizens got a one-dimensional view of the arcane world. Kasey couldn't bear the thought of old prejudices being reignited as a new age of division spread across the community. The World of Magic had been outed and the preacher was trying to make a name for himself railing against it. No matter how much she hated the spotlight, she was uniquely situated to try and control the narrative.
“Kasey, what did you just do?” Bishop asked.
“Exercised my freedom of speech, something I plan to do a whole lot more of this evening. I'm going on the news.”
“Kasey, that's a live broadcast. You're about to tell every bounty hunter in the city exactly where you are.”
“I know,” Kasey said, “but if we don't do something about this now, we’re never going to get the same chance. I won't need a bounty hunter to kill me; some kid on the street with his father's gun will do the job for them. I'm not gonna let them turn me into the villain.”
Bishop opened her mouth and then closed it. The morgue was quiet.
“You are really going to do this, aren't you?” Bishop asked.
“It's this or reducing him to ashes. I figured you would prefer the non-burning option.”
“You need to be careful. It's a live interview. If you lose your temper, you risk the chance of looking like the villain they are trying to paint you as.”
�
�I'll do my best to not burn their poor church down, then.” Kasey unbuttoned her suit coat. “Did you find out who is trying to kill me?”
Bishop tapped the ruined license plate against her palm. “I ran the plate and it belonged to a small company with connections to the Bonanno crime family. If I had to guess, Vincent Camarano had something to do with it.
Vincent Camarano was the head of the Bonanno crime family. Kasey had met him briefly at a restaurant called Rigoletto. She had been looking for information on who had abducted Vida. The crime lord and his capos had been unwilling participants in the exchange, but Kasey and Jack Rosenberg had gone in strapped for battle and ready to take the roof off the place.
When all was said and done, they had come to an uneasy truce. As long as she dealt with the Night Crew, the family was willing to overlook her intrusion into their territory.
Why would they send a hitter now? It didn't make any sense. Perhaps they were taking advantage of the bounty offered by the Court to recoup some of their losses, while simultaneously dealing with someone who was likely to be a thorn in their side in the future.
“I had thought we had an understanding,” Kasey muttered. “If that's the case, you might want to warn Jack.”
At the mention of her boyfriend, Bishop raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Jack was with me when we hit Rigoletto. If Vinnie is settling the score, Jack could be in danger too.”
Bishop pulled out her phone. “I'll let him know. I'm also going to have Mr. Camarano come down to the station for a discussion. Let him know this kind of aggression will draw the undivided attention of the NYPD.”
“If he gets here this evening, sweat him a little. I shouldn't be too long in this interview, and I want to hear what he has to say.”
“Will do,” Bishop replied as she hastily punched out a text message.
Kasey sat her suit coat down on the counter. “I don't suppose you've still got a spare change of my clothes here?”
“Why?” Bishop asked. “The suit looks good on you.”
“It was only meant to be a disguise, but if I'm going on TV, I want people to recognize me. I want them to know exactly who I am and why what I'm saying actually matters. Me, the real me, will get their attention. This,” Kasey said, pointing to the ADI issue suit, “will make them change the channel.”
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