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

by John P. Logsdon

  But now wasn’t the time for pleasantries.

  “I am,” I replied, “and I’m flattered by the attempt to hook up with me, but I’m currently on a mission.”

  She squinted at me. “Sorry?”

  Harvey nudged my arm and pointed at the badge that was dangling from a holder on her neck.

  “She works here, Chief,” he whispered.

  “Oh.” I cleared my throat. “Yes, yes. We are from out of town.”

  She smiled. “Fantastic. Usually we do tours with larger groups, so if you—”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” I said while opening my wallet and showing her my PPD badge, “but we’re actually in search of your PPD.”

  She leaned in and studied the badge for a moment.

  “What’s a PPD?”

  I hadn’t considered the possibility that workers in London might not be as privy to information as the folks in Vegas. Then again, it wasn’t like we were in a hotel or anything here.

  Just as I was about to answer, another lady stepped over. She was a little older but still quite the looker. Obviously it was good business to pick attractive people to manage tours. A quick study showed a few nicely dressed dudes who had that same swagger going for them as the ladies.

  “Patty,” said the older woman, “why don’t you take my tour over there and I’ll work with these gentlemen?”

  “As you wish,” said Patty at length. “Do you know what a PPD is?”

  “It’s nothing to be worried about,” she replied. “Now, run along. We don’t want to keep the tour group waiting, do we?”

  “Indeed not,” answered Patty. She then gave me a sheepishly naughty grin and a little wave before walking away.

  I gave Harvey a look that said, “I knew she was hitting on me.” His look replied, “Whatever you say, Chief.”

  “Gentlemen,” said the older guide, bringing our attention back to her, “I believe you’re in the wrong building.”

  “We were told to come to the National Gallery in London,” I explained.

  “And you are looking for the London PPD, correct?”

  I glanced at Harvey and then answered, “Yes.”

  “You are in the wrong building.”

  That was odd. I never knew Lydia to be incorrect with things. In fact, it had never happened. I supposed it could have been due to the fact that we were in a different country here, but that seemed unlikely. We had the internet, after all. Plus, the various PPDs were connected via a wide network of information. Everyone kept everyone in the loop on everything. We had to in the event that the Overworld got overrun by the Netherworld.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Young man,” she said with a raised eyebrow, “I was in the PPD for many years. I can assure you that I’m quite certain you’re in the wrong building.”

  “According to my AI, it’s supposed to be inside the National Gallery.”

  “It’s still in the set, love. It’s just not the main galleria.”

  I gave her another glance, flipping on my amalgamite senses. Sure enough, she was a fae. That explained her good looks.

  I gave a quick look at Patty to see if she was also a fae.

  She wasn’t.

  “Okay,” I acquiesced. “We’re in the wrong building. Could you tell us where we’re supposed to be?”

  “National Gallery Shop.”

  “Shop?”

  “More accurately,” she said while leading us back outside, “it’s in the back of the Sainsbury Wing where the shop is located.” She pointed at the building. “Walk there and turn right. You will pass the large black gates that separate the buildings. There you shall find a null zone, which contains the PPD.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “And do feel free to contact me again if you happen to need anything else.” Her eyes were twinkling. “It’s been some time since my last tryst with someone from your side of the pond.”

  I blinked at her. “I…uh…”

  “Have a pleasant day,” she replied with a smile before heading back inside.

  “You gotta keep your head in the game, Chief,” Harvey said as he and I padded down and turned right, seeing the black gates. “I know you’re the king of horny and all, but this isn’t the time for playing around with the ladies.”

  My only response was a grimace.

  The null zone was at the far end of the building. We stepped through and saw a hidden door there.

  “You sure it’s okay for us to go in there, Chief?” Harvey asked, looking worried.

  “We’re PPD officers, Harvey. Any precinct in the world will welcome us with open arms.”

  “They will?”

  I put my hand on the doorknob and hesitated.

  “I hope so.”

  Chapter 8

  Unlike the Vegas PPD, this place had a number of officers working already. They could have just been paper-pushers, but I couldn’t tell by looking at them.

  They wore nice suits, which I felt was the way all agents should dress. The mages stood out, wearing their trademarked leather garb, but even they were more dressed like Griff than Rachel. There were no long trench coats in this place, at least none that I could spot.

  That made me wonder if Rachel’s style of garb had changed.

  Interesting.

  “May I help you?” asked a young man in a light blue shirt with a dark blue jacket.

  “Hi, yes,” I said, fumbling a bit. “I’m, uh, Chief Ian Dex from the Las Vegas Paranormal Police Department.” I showed him my badge. “Is your chief around?”

  “I see,” the guy said. “This is about Officer Cress, yes?”

  “Right.”

  “Come this way.”

  We headed through a building that was double the size of the Vegas PPD but way smaller than the Netherworld one. This place was neatly kept, too, but I still thought our setup was better. Cubicles lined the floor here. Our design allowed for everyone to have their own office. Granted, we had a handful of officers and they had probably a few dozen, but there were always design options, if you cared enough.

  “Pardon me, Mr. Bellows,” our guide said, “but I have an Officer Ian Dex here from the Las Vegas PPD.”

  Bellows was a grumpy-looking older man. He had white hair that was parted on the left, hazel eyes, and a ruddy complexion. He wasn’t overly large in the middle, but he did look like he could use a few laps around the block. His gray suit jacket was hanging on a coat hook behind his large wooden desk, and his tie of choice was a simple black that lay neatly against his white shirt. His sleeves were also rolled up, which signaled this was a man who had no problem going into the trenches, should the need arise.

  My amalgamite senses told me he was a vampire. This was strange, seeing that he looked more gruff than classy.

  He gave me an annoyed look and sighed.

  “Come in, come in,” he said with a wave. “Have a seat.”

  Harvey and I took the chairs in front of him as he leaned back and crossed his arms, looking askance at me.

  “I was told that my former partner, Rachel Cress, was kidnapped.”

  “Indeed, she was,” he replied with a slow blink. “We have people out looking for her already. We’ll let you know when we find something. Now, if you’ll be so kind as to—”

  I stood up. “I’m here to help find her.”

  “You have no jurisdiction here, young man.”

  “I don’t care about jurisdiction,” I countered hotly. “This is my partner we’re talking about.”

  “Ex-partner,” he noted. “And while I applaud your loyalty, I’m afraid you’ll just have to allow my finest to do their jobs.”

  “Yeah, that’s not going to work for me.”

  Bellows stood up and put his hands on his desk. While he was an older guy, I got the feeling that he wasn’t someone who was easily subdued. He had scars and everything.

  “If you think I’m going to let some pantywaist upstart walk into my office and dictate terms to me, you have seriously
misjudged the situation.”

  “And if you think I’m going to let some geriatric wad of fuckery stop me from finding the most important woman I’ve ever known, you’ve seriously got some re-evaluation to do.”

  We stared eye to eye for a few moments before Harvey stepped up and put his hands on both our shoulders.

  “Guys, guys,” he said, playing the role of peacemaker, “we’re on the same team, remember?”

  Bellows and I took our hands off the desk and stood back up, but we didn’t break eye contact.

  “Now, I know I’m just a rookie and you guys are both chiefs, but I think I have a solution to all of this.”

  We both looked at Harvey.

  “Okay, so Chief Dex here wants to help find his ex-partner, right?”

  “Obviously, Harvey,” I answered.

  “Right. And Chief Bellows, you want to make sure that we’re not running around interfering with your day-to-day operations and stuff, yeah?”

  “Are you going somewhere with this, young man?”

  Harvey swallowed.

  “Yeah. Rachel had a partner here, right?”

  “She did,” Bellows replied. “In a manner of speaking, anyway. The man is a complete arse.”

  “Was he captured, too?” asked Harvey.

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “So then he’s on his own?”

  “He is.”

  Harvey smiled. “Perfect. Just let us tag around with that guy. He can be in charge and—”

  “What?”

  “Hear me out, Chief,” Harvey said to me. “We’ll just be along for the ride. We can give some insights on how Rachel thinks and to provide support where needed.”

  Bellows licked his lips, showing that he was weighing things.

  “No,” he said finally with a firm shake of his head. “It’s just too much of a risk, especially knowing how you Americans operate.”

  Just as I was about to open a can of whoop ass on Bellows, Harvey put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a nod.

  “Okay, okay,” he said, turning back to Bellows. “I have another idea.”

  Bellows crossed his arms and grimaced. “I haven’t all day to bandy about with you two, so make it quick.”

  “It’s simple,” my werebear partner stated, “we can either go out on our own and hunt for Rachel, we can work with her partner, or you can deny us the ability to do both and I can pick you up right here in this office, snap you in two, and then stuff you into that garbage pail right there.”

  Bellows and I both looked taken aback by this, especially because of how calm Harvey had said it.

  I nearly laughed.

  “My loyalties are to my chief, Chief Bellows,” Harvey said in a dark voice. “Now, you can kick us out, and you can even put me in jail for ripping you to shreds, but if I go into werebear form right here, you’re going to be in a lot of pain for a long, long time.” He then put his hands on the desk and leaned in menacingly. “Do we have an understanding?”

  Bellows swallowed hard and nodded his head.

  Chapter 9

  “So, what did you think?” asked Harvey as we sat in a little waiting room while Bellows had Rachel’s partner summoned.

  “About what?”

  “Good cop, bad cop,” he said, as if it were obvious. “I was doing it like those guys from Starsky & Hutch used to do.”

  I assumed this was another show from the seventies, since Harvey had alluded to those over our last couple of months working together.

  “Which one were you?” I asked.

  “Starsky,” he answered.

  “No, I mean were you the good cop or the bad cop?”

  “The good cop, obviously.”

  I cocked my head at him. “You threatened to snap the guy in two and shove him into a trash can.”

  “Well, yeah, but…” He chewed on his lip for a moment. “Okay, fair enough. Still, though, you have to admit that you were more riled up than I was.”

  “The guy was trying to block me from helping to save Rachel,” I shot back. “Of course I was riled up. Still am, to be honest. If he had come to my precinct saying that his partner had been kidnapped, I would have held out a hand and asked how we could help him.”

  Harvey merely nodded in response.

  “Anyway,” I continued, “you did a good job, Harvey. I probably would have gotten there eventually with Bellows, but you easily cut the time in half.”

  Granted, he’d almost bent Bellows in half, too.

  “Thanks, Chief.”

  He looked uncomfortable. I couldn’t tell if it was due to my complimenting him or what, but there was definitely something wrong.

  “Something else the matter?”

  He looked over at me. “Hmmm?”

  “It’s like you’ve suddenly got ants in your pants,” I noted, pointing at him. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be jittery, not you.”

  “Oh, it’s just a thing with me, is all.” He sighed. “I get itchy.”

  “Ah.” I scooted away slightly. “You mean because you’re a werebear?”

  “Huh?” Then he grimaced. “No, it’s not because I’m a werebear. It’s because I like dressing the part.”

  Dressing the part? What was he talking about?

  I looked him over. He seemed dressed decently enough from my perspective. No, he wasn’t a suit-and-tie guy like me, but his brown dress pants and white shirt fit the bill.

  He was staring out into the mass of officers in the station.

  Ah, so that was it.

  He was feeling underdressed. They all had on suits. He didn’t. And since I had on a suit, too, that meant everyone but him was dressed the part.

  “Don’t worry about it, Harvey,” I said gently. “You look fine.”

  “Chief,” he replied while continuing his fidgeting, “we’re in London here, not Vegas.”

  “So?”

  “So as a werebear, I already feel out of place.”

  “I’m sure there are plenty of werebears in London, Harvey.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” He stood up and began pacing around. “I’ve always felt out of place, ever since I was a kid. I’m tall, built big, have a lot of body hair, and I turn into a werebear.” He held up a hand at me. “I know there are other werebears, but we’re kind of rare when compared to werewolves, vampires, fae, pixies, djinn—”

  “You don’t have to name them all,” I declared, “and haven’t we had this discussion before?”

  “Sort of, but the point is that—aside from weresheep—I’m in the minority here.”

  “You’re talking to the only known amalgamite in existence, Harvey.” Then I froze and frowned at him. “Wait, what?”

  “What, what?” he said, turning to face me.

  “Did you say weresheep?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  I scanned back through all the courses I’d taken at the academy and there was no mention of weresheep. I shuddered to think how they even managed to come into being, not that werebears or werewolves were any better.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You’ve never heard of weresheep?”

  I gave him a stern look. “Apparently not or I wouldn’t have said anything.”

  “True. Well, yeah, there are weresheep.”

  “Come on. You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Nope.” He leaned back on the wall. “There were even wererabbits at one point, but it was abundantly clear that they were going to overpopulate, so that was nipped in the bud.” Harvey then laughed lightly. “If you think you’re horny, Chief, you should have seen those guys.”

  “What’s their special power?” I queried.

  “Wererabbits? Screwing, I’d guess. I mean, seriously, they could go all day.”

  I rubbed my temples and calmed myself. It was bad enough that I was in London hunting after my ex-partner who had apparently been kidnapped by werewolves, but now I was talking about weresheep with a werebear who was intent on describing
the sexual prowess of wererabbits!

  “I’m asking about the weresheep, Harvey.”

  “Oh, right. They kick and bite, but that’s about it.” He snapped his fingers. “They also grow back their wool really quickly.”

  “So?”

  “So they can run shops for wool and produce it like it’s nobody’s business.”

  Insanity. To be fair, I didn’t know that zombies were a thing until Shitfaced Fred brought them up to play.

  “Anyway, I just don’t feel like I fit in, ya know?”

  “Again, I’m an amalgamite, Harvey.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve learned how to blend.” He motioned at my clothing. “You don’t stand out like a sore thumb. Hell, when I first met you, Chief, I could have sworn you were a vampire.”

  I groaned. “Why does everyone think that?”

  “Well, look at you,” Harvey replied with a chuckle. “You wear the best clothes, your hair is always just right, you keep that five-o-clock shadow running, you’re a good-looking dude, and you carry yourself in such a way that tells the world you think your shit doesn’t stink.”

  I wasn’t sure whether to feel complimented or offended. On the one hand, everything he said had been true; on the other hand, I didn’t want everyone thinking I was a fucking vampire!

  But as any good chief would do, I turned my attention back to the problem my subordinate was facing.

  “So what do you want to do about it?”

  “You looking like a vampire?” he replied. “I don’t think it’s up to me to do anything about—”

  “About you feeling uncomfortable, Harvey.”

  “Oh, right.” He shuffled his feet. “Honestly, I’d just like to get an outfit that helps me fit the part.”

  I nodded at him. That was one thing I could understand.

  Power suit.

  Harvey would need something properly tailored. If he let me help pick out the perfect outfit, he’d definitely up his street cred. The question was whether or not he’d be able to afford it. I had no problem paying for the outfit, but typically when I made these offers to my officers, they would decline, and I always felt like a pompous ass.