The Ian Dex Supernatural Thriller Series: Books 1 - 4 (Las Vegas Paranormal Police Department Box Sets)

by John P. Logsdon

  “So much for ‘we’re even,’” she replied, tailing me like a scorned puppy.

  “Hey, Chief,” Felicia said through the connector, “Jasmine and I didn’t spot any on our route, but Portman just dragged one back. Looks like there are still four missing.”

  “No,” I replied, giving Rachel a glare. “We got lucky and dropped four out here. Three were crawling about and one attacked.”

  “You guys okay?”

  “We’re peachy.” I cleared my throat. “Have Griff do a recount, just to make sure. Also, Portman should send a few of his team to collect the ones out here.”

  “You got it, Chief.”

  The walk back was mostly quiet, except for the sounds of vehicles passing by.

  There was a time, long before I was the chief, where Rachel and I would take late night strolls together. Not in a cemetery, of course. Usually it was at a park or even just down the strip. Things were different now, though. They had to be.

  “You going to tell everyone?” she asked.

  “Would you?”

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  We got back and everyone gave me the once-over. It was obvious that I looked dreadful. Hell, I felt dreadful.

  “What happened to you?” said Felicia.

  “Nothing,” I replied, glancing at Rachel. “Nothing at all.”

  Portman reached into his van, pulled out a towel, and threw it at me. I studied the rest of his crew. They were all wiping remnants of something off their person. I assumed it had to do with how they’d destroyed the poor zombie they’d found.

  “All the bodies are indeed accounted for,” Griff announced, “assuming your count was accurate.”

  “There were four,” Rachel confirmed.

  “There you have it, then.”

  I went to hand the towel back to Portman, but he pointed at a barrel that was half full of them already. I dumped it in there.

  “You need our help here, Portman?”

  “Nah, all set. This was a fun night, Dex. Thanks for the invite.”

  “Yeah,” I replied with a sniff. “It was a real hoot.” I then turned to my team and added, “Let’s get back to base. We’ve obviously got a new problem on our hands.”

  Chapter 8

  The Directors were already waiting when I entered the meeting room, which was accessed via the door at the back of my office.

  There were four of them on the panel. I could only see flashes or basic shadows of them in the dim lighting, and the moment they pulled away my memory of their faces faded. It was like speaking with apparitions.

  Silver, the representative for the vampires, opened the conversation. “We’ve been told that reanimated corpses appeared off the strip, but we don’t know any further details. What have you learned?”

  Right, so no pleasantries today.

  “Not much yet, sir,” I replied with an equally businesslike tone. “We arrived on the scene, were subsequently attacked, killed them, in a manner of speaking, and are now working through how this all happened.”

  “But you must have some idea?” grumbled Zack, the werewolf rep.

  “Griff…” I started and then decided to go formal instead. “I mean, Officer Benchley, suggested that it has to do with necromancy.”

  “This is obvious,” noted O. He was the top-dog for the Crimson Focus Mages. Usually he was one of the more cordial Directors of the bunch, but today he seemed just as snippy at the rest of them. “The very fact that they came out of the ground denotes necromancy, Mr. Dex.”

  “I’m aware of that, sir,” I said, fighting to maintain my cool. It wasn’t easy considering that I still carried zombie juice on my person. I took a deep breath. “What we know is that bodies crawled out of the ground and that’s highly unusual.”

  “No shit,” said EQK, offering his two cents.

  “Officer Benchley found a magical power line that was moving across the ground,” I continued, ignoring the Vegas Pixies representative. “As it crossed the graves, it reanimated those inside. They came up with the desire to attack us.”

  “Your team specifically?” Silver asked.

  If anything, it seemed like me specifically. The zombies hadn’t gone into attack-mode until I’d arrived, after all. Still, there wasn’t enough data to jump to that conclusion yet.

  “That I don’t know,” I replied, keeping my expression even. “We were the only ones in the immediate area at the time. Or at least the only ones required to stay and fight the things.”

  “If Officer Benchley spotted a combing light,” O mused, “then the necromancer had to have been nearby.”

  “We didn’t see anybody,” I said and then I remembered the hobo. It wasn’t much, but in the essence of full-disclosure, I said, “Wait, scratch that. There was an old guy walking across the street. He was just a drunk…I think.”

  “Probably not,” O stated. “Did he look sickly and small?”

  “Yeah, but most drunks in this town look like that.” I licked my lips and suddenly regretted it. The taste of zombie juice is not exactly pleasant. “You think that was the guy?”

  “There’s no way to be certain without having the ability to speak with him,” O answered after a moment, “but it would seem likely. People who dabble in necromancy tend to shrink over time. I’ve seen large men morph into a fraction of their normal selves.”

  Damn it. I had the guy right in my hands and let him go. To be fair to me, though, he was a pretty decent actor. Assuming it wasn’t actually just some drunk. The real necro could have been anywhere.

  “What is your plan?” asked Zack, jolting me from my thoughts.

  “My crew is working on it now.” I didn’t know if Rachel or Jasmine knew much about necromancy or not, but it seemed that Griff had the topic well in hand. “I have Officer Benchley heading up the research.”

  “Wise,” said O. “He’s dealt with this before.”

  “Before?” I raised an eyebrow at that. “What do you mean he’s dealt with this before?”

  “He means it’s not the first time this has happened, you boob,” EQK explained.

  I glanced toward the pixie and then back at the place where O sat. “When?”

  “Many times over the years, Mr. Dex,” answered O. “It’s an art that we in the mage community have shunned. We’ve gone to great lengths to eradicate it and all of its users.”

  “Good work,” said Silver.

  “I note and accept your sarcasm, Silver,” O said without inflection. “It’s not a simple thing to pin down those with ill will, as I’m sure your vampire brethren can attest.”

  There was a pause, and Silver replied, “True.” His voice sounded heavy.

  “It’s the same with werewolves,” admitted Zack. “We have many tarnishes on our historical record.”

  While I couldn’t see the panel, I had the distinct feeling that everyone had turned to stare at EQK. They’d all owned up to their particular lot having nefarious sorts among their numbers and now they were looking to the pixie to join the crowd.

  My assumption was verified when EQK said, “Screw you guys. We don’t raise the dead or bite people or go running around marking our territory by pissing on trees.” There was a light growl from Zack. “Sorry, dudes, but pixies just aren’t like you warped fuckers.”

  Chapter 9

  My crew was already in the conference room when I returned from the precinct showers. I snagged a quick sandwich from the vending machine directly across from them and wolfed it down.

  I was cleaned up, moderately fed, and feeling like I belonged in the world again.

  As I walked into the room I found that Warren and Serena had joined the fun, along with Turbo. None of them were street officers, per se. They all worked at the PPD, of course, and Warren and Serena had enhanced genetics, though the horny side-effect didn’t seem to impact Warren at all. I used to praise anything that would listen regarding how the horny gene impacted Serena though. Ah, those were the days.

  Turbo
was a pixie who managed all of our technological needs. Everything from software to hardware, if it needed building or fixing, Turbo was our guy. He had coke-bottle glasses and wore a little police officer uniform, including a badge and everything. It wasn’t really protocol for the PPD, but it seemed to make him happy. He was also one of the fortunate ones who didn’t need genetic enhancements.

  Warren was our only wizard on staff. He had that hippie thing going with the long straggly hair and matching beard. It wasn’t gray, though, and he wasn’t old, but he did have leathery skin that marked him as having spent too many days on the beach.

  Serena handled forensics, which put her in the limelight alongside Griff. If there was any one person I could lay with for all eternity, it’d be Serena. I don’t mean that in a spiritual way. While she was nice enough, we were compatible in the sack only. Roleplaying, specifically. She played the role of succubus and I played the role of lucky guy who got to be with her while she played the role of succubus.

  … back when I wasn’t chief.

  I sighed and got my head back in the game.

  “What’s the word, people?” I asked as I moved to the head of the table.

  “I’ve been doing some research alongside of Serena,” answered Griff, “and we are planning to return to the King David Cemetery so that she can study the area in greater detail.”

  Serena nodded and added, “I’m going to try and pick up the necro’s trail.”

  “Right, uh, about that.” I coughed and rubbed my nose. “My guess is that he was crossing Eldorado after we’d dropped the majority of the zombies.”

  “What?” said Rachel with a look of shock. “You mean the old guy?”

  “Exactly what I mean. O pointed it out when I was meeting with the Directors.”

  Griff leaned forward. “Interesting.”

  He looked like a man who could use a nice long nap. All of the mages did, in fact. That was one of the drawbacks of their profession. They got tired a lot faster than the rest of us.

  “Looks to me like you could all use a little rest.”

  There was no argument.

  “Lydia,” I called out, “do you know if Portman got everything squared away at the graveyard?”

  “He checked in about fifteen minutes ago, sugar. Said everything was back to normal.”

  “Good. What about Paula? She’s still in the dark, yes?”

  Paula Rose was the head of the local company that handled public relations for the PPD. The company was called The Spin and they had the unenviable job of making all of the crazy junk the supernatural community did look like standard Vegas happenings to the normals. The problem was that she only had one easy way out of any oddity, and that was to say it was a new show in the works. People bought it because they were mostly drunk when seeing things out of the ordinary. Paula hated using that line, though. She wanted some other type of spin on at least a few things.

  “I haven’t spoken with her.”

  “Good.”

  Good for me, mostly. Paula and I used to date back in the day. It didn’t work out. That was my fault, of course. She couldn’t keep up with my libido. Very few can. I glanced again at Serena, knowing full well that she could. Fact is that I’m not the cheating type, so I’d broken up with her, explaining it was better for me to do that than to become unfaithful. She hadn’t taken it well and it made for a shaky working relationship. It had improved over the years, but I still went out of my way to avoid her whenever possible.

  “Any reports coming from other grave sites?” Rachel asked.

  “No, Ms. Cress,” Lydia replied in the robotic voice she reserved for the rest of my crew. I always found this funny because it irritated Rachel so much. “Currently everything is clear.”

  “We should probably still do some checking around,” Felicia suggested. “Just in case.”

  Everyone was nodding at that, except Chuck who was busily reading something.

  "Reading up on Zombies, Chuck?

  Chuck turned the book to reveal a bluish cover with two dudes looking smokin' hot, fierce, and snappily dressed.

  "Ah, right." I coughed lightly, recalling his relationship with Griff. "Not on work time, please."

  "It's a Montague & Strong Detective Agency novel, you idiot," said Rachel while shaking her head at me. "I have all of them."

  "Oh, sorry."

  How was I supposed to know? And what made Rachel assume I was being insensitive anyway? I was, but she didn’t know that.

  I glanced up at her and remembered how long we’d worked together. She could spot me from a mile away…. A thought struck me.

  “Turbo,” I said, leaning in, “what are the chances of you being able to create a way for us to spot these things?”

  His eyes darted around the room. “Montague & Strong Detective Agency novels?”

  “No,” I said, grimacing at him. “I’m talking about zombies. It’d be great if there was some way that we could know if something was dead before we killed it.” Turbo squinted at me. I sought to clarify. “Can you create a way for us to know who is a zombie and who isn’t?”

  “Only matters if they are one, right?” he asked. “Why do you care to know who isn’t?”

  Working with techies wasn’t my thing. They were a bit too logical for me. I asked them to build something based off of a general idea and I either got the run around, the make-Ian-look-like-an-idiot routine, or the “Sure, Chief, but it’ll take three weeks to get it done.”

  “You’re right,” I said with some effort. “My mistake. Can you create a way for us to be able to spot zombies?”

  “I suppose I could,” he said while pacing back and forth on the little desk he’d been standing on. He was moving so fast that he was nearly a blur. Finally, he stopped and said, “It’ll take me about three weeks.”

  “We don’t have three weeks,” I replied, playing the part I’d learned over my years of working with him.

  “I could do it faster, but with speed you lose quality, or money, or both.”

  At least we’d progressed to argument number two more rapidly than usual.

  “All we need is to spot the zombies accurately,” I stated. “It doesn’t have to be pretty and it doesn’t need a lot of bells and whistles. The tech simply has to allow us to identify zombies. That’s it.”

  “Hmmm,” he said, resuming his pacing. “It can be done, certainly. I think so, anyway. I could run patterns against breathing, pulse detection, and a number of other items to verify that the person is alive.”

  “I thought you said it didn’t matter if they were alive.” I couldn’t help giving him a dig. “It only mattered if they were dead.”

  “True, Chief, and well done,” Turbo said, looking impressed, “but in order to see if the person is dead, I first have to rule out them being alive.”

  I took a deep breath. “How long, Turbo? And three weeks isn’t the answer I’m looking for, either.”

  “You’re sure you don’t want anything fancy?”

  “I’m sure.”

  He tapped his little foot on the desk while adjusting his policeman’s cap. “I only ask because usually you want these things really fast and then you complain that they’re not very effective because they need some fancy bits thrown in.”

  He was right. If I wasn’t specific enough, I’d get something ridiculous, but if I was too specific, it’d never get completed. A vision of him delivering a zombie detector that was the size of a refrigerator passed before my eyes.

  “Okay, fair enough,” I said finally. “We have to be able to easily carry the device. It can’t be overly bulky and it would be best if it were hands-free so that we can still fire our weapons and do magic.”

  “Good, good,” he said as his eyes grew wide. “Yes, I can see it now.” He was doing what appeared to be calculations in the air. “No, no, don’t want to do that. But if…”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” I said with a smile. He paused. “Maybe you can work this out with the help of Lydia?”<
br />
  “Yes, yes! I’ll do that.”

  “Try not to take too long,” I called after him as he zipped out of the room. “We may need these things very soon.”

  I hoped that wasn’t true, but since that little old drunk guy was likely our necromancer, and seeing as how I hadn’t taken him into custody the first time around, the likelihood was that we were going to be running into a lot more zombies before too long.

  “All right, gang,” I said finally, “let’s get to it.”

  Chapter 10

  Rachel and I hopped into the Aston Martin and started canvasing cemeteries. It wasn’t all that thrilling, but a little downtime was cool with me right about now.

  Jasmine and Felicia took the south side of town.

  Since Griff and Serena were heading back to King David, Chuck had taken Warren along with him. While that probably wasn’t the best partnership in the history of the paranormal police department, Warren could serve as backup if given time. He had sent that weakening spell at Reese a few weeks back, after all.

  “So anyway,” Rachel said as we cruised down the strip, “sorry about shooting you in the neck.”

  If you knew Rachel as well as I did, your jaw would be hitting the floor right now. It was not in her DNA to apologize for anything. She must have really felt terrible.

  “It happens,” I replied with a shrug, trying not to make a big deal out of it. Her learning to say she was sorry about stuff could be a good thing, after all. “I suppose I never formally apologized for getting you kidnapped.”

  “Nope.”

  Trying to mirror her method so that she’d feel comfortable, I said, “Yeah, well, my bad.”

  She patted my hand. “That was very heartfelt, Ian. Honestly, I nearly shed tears.”

  So much for that.

  At least we were back on “normal” terms with each other. Even though we could no longer do the boom-boom, as it were, Rachel had been my partner on the force for a long time. While I’d never admit it to her directly, she was the most important person in my life. She had my back and I had hers…when we weren’t shooting each other and getting each other kidnapped anyway. We needed to stay tight and stick together.