by Jon F. Merz
My stomach plunged toward my bowels like I’d been kicked in the balls. "Good God."
"You see the logic now?"
"I guess."
Zero took a sip of coffee. "Even if it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you’d do if you were switching sides, Lawson, it’s damned sound. It works. And it works well. It’s no wonder you haven’t gotten close to Cosgrove since that first night. McKinley’s been keeping him abreast of your progress every step of the way. He’s always just out of reach for you."
"But I saw him talking with Talya that night in the bar."
"A calculated move on his part."
"Calculated? What for?"
Zero shrugged. "Probably designed to make you mistrust her. If you figured she was part of his game plan you might have killed her yourself."
"Get her out of the way in other words."
"Why not?" said Zero. "Did you tell McKinley about Talya?"
"After our first meeting."
"Makes perfect sense then. McKinley tells Cosgrove about Talya, about what an obvious professional she is. Cosgrove’s no fool. He understands revenge better than most and would figure Talya to be another threat to his plans. If he can make you waste her, thinking she’s with him, not only would it remove the threat, but it would also solidify McKinley’s position. There’d be no way you’d think he was dirty."
It disgusted me to have fallen for Cosgrove’s deceit so easily. And to think that McKinley was involved in it as well left me sick. But it vanished quickly enough. Rage filled the void.
"Who else?"
Zero looked up from his mug. "Who else?"
"Who else is involved?"
Zero shrugged. "Not sure yet. I only just got confirmation about McKinley from one of my sources. I double checked the information on my own and it’s legit."
"Who’s your source?"
Zero looked at me like I’d just asked him to translate the Rosetta Stone into Chinese. "What kind of question is that, Lawson? You know damned well I can’t tell you. You know networks are never disclosed. Makes compromising them too easy."
"Like I’d tell."
Zero frowned again. "I’m not questioning your loyalty, Lawson. Hell, you know that’s never been an issue. But even if you think you could hold out under duress, there’s no telling what kind of shit they’d put you through if they thought you had information they needed. And everyone has a breaking point. Everyone."
"Fair enough."
"All right so let’s look at Cosgrove’s other possible recruits." Zero glanced around the diner. "You and McKinley head operations here in Boston. There’s no one else here to really figure into the plans. You’ve got Xavier in Portland who controls the Maine and New Hampshire communities. And Dieter runs Vermont. I’ve got Connecticut and Rhode Island. There’s always Gustafson and O’Reilly in New York, but I think Cosgrove is after the Northeast first, then he’ll expand. After all, the Council is here."
It was true. The seat of power for the vampire community was the Council and they held court here in Boston. The Council liked to reside in old cities. And Boston was one of the oldest in the country.
"So you think he’ll try to get the others into his scheme?"
"Probably use McKinley as his go-to man. Everyone knows what a nut Cosgrove is. It might make better sense to use McKinley as the initial contact. Once Cosgrove has solidified his alliances with the various Controls, he’ll move against the Council. Kill them, usurp their power and take over the rest of the country. From there it would only be a matter of time before he had the rule of the international vampire communities. You know they take their cues from us here."
I nodded. "You’re sure about McKinley?"
"Absolutely."
"It’s just that if he’s mixed up in this why would he feed me information about the elder? He honestly sounded as confused as I was."
"He might well be. I’m sure Cosgrove wouldn’t reveal all the aspects of his plan, even to his cohorts. McKinley might honestly have no clue why Cosgrove is doing it. It helps make him look even less suspect."
Damn. I’d worked with McKinley for a long time. But I’d worked with Zero even longer and I trusted Zero with my life. So if he said it was true, then it was.
I shrugged my coat on. Zero looked up. "Got an idea?"
"Yeah. If McKinley’s been keeping Cosgrove aware of my movements, maybe it’s time to throw some disinformation out there and see if we can’t trip them up."
Zero slid some cash on the table top. "Not too much, Lawson. Remember, I’m not ready to move yet. I need to call in some additional resources to make sure we can take them down if we need to. Wait for my signal."
"You’ve got additional resources?"
Zero smiled. "I hope so, Lawson. We’re going to need them."
"So what do I do in the meantime? Sit tight?"
Zero smiled. "Hell, no. If you can get Cosgrove, by all means do so. But be careful with McKinley. If he gets wind that you’re on to the scheme he may decide to kill you himself. And right now, you’re the only active Fixer I’ve got. I need you alive."
"Good to know. I’m heading over to that elder’s apartment. You want to tag along?"
"You don’t need me."
"Actually, I could use your insight. This old school stuff is much more up your alley than it is mine."
He grinned. "Yeah. Okay."
I looked at him and wondered if he was enjoying the bit of adrenaline the situation had pumped into his blood. "Nice to be back walking that thin line again, Zero?"
"The hell," said Zero. "I’d rather prop my feet up after a long day and read a good book. This stuff is for you young pups. I’m far too old to be traipsing about like some greenhorn on his first time out."
"Luxury of choice isn’t something we’ve ever had, though."
Zero smiled. "Well, we could always just walk away."
Fat chance of that. "If it was only that easy." Being a Fixer made you respect the Balance even more than most of your average everyday vampires. To us, the Balance represented the sanctity of our lives. It became our reason for existing. It was our Bushido. Protecting it became instinctive. Zero and I would rather die than walk away. He knew it. I knew it.
And unfortunately, Cosgrove and McKinley knew it, too.
Chapter Eighteen
The South End is home to the kind of brownstones young professionals dream of owning one day. Old and stately, in as diverse a neighborhood as you can find in Boston. Zero and I wound our way down behind Copley Place and searched the streets for parking.
"Every sign says ‘resident permit parking only,’" said Zero. "Don’t they believe in meters?"
"Not in this part of town. Everyone here is keen on keeping outsiders away. You should see the double and triple parking that goes on down here on weekends."
I steered the Jetta into a squeeze between a Ford Explorer and a Lexus. Zero got out and looked around.
"This okay?"
"No signs anywhere. Maybe we got lucky."
Zero coughed. "Luck. Indeed."
Number forty-four looked like someone spend some serious bucks trying to turn back time. Fresh mortar had been spooned into cracks between the reddish bricks and a fresh coat of black paint had been slapped on the heavy wooden door. The wrought iron fence bordering the brownstone hadn’t yet been repainted yet, and by the look of it, the house was a good hundred years old.
I pushed into the front hall and got hit with a whiff of musty mothballs.
Zero sniffed. "Could be sawdust, too. After all the clean-up crew would have had to use something for the blood."
The front door key was under the mat and we let ourselves in. The inside looked like an abattoir, although the blood was much darker now, having dried since Cosgrove’s visit.
Zero exhaled. "Jesus, what a mess."
The inside of the apartment had been completely trashed. Bookshelves were turned over, overturned books with ancient scripts running down the spines had been tossed abo
ut and pieces of parchment littered the hardwood floors.
"Looks like someone was looking for something pretty damned hard."
Zero nodded. "Yes. And by the look of it, I don’t know if they were successful."
"That good news or bad news?"
"First we have to figure out what they were looking for, then we’ll know the answer to that question."
He stooped down and picked up one of the books. "Do you know what this is?"
"Looks like the ancient script of our people."
"Taluk," said Zero. "Very rare."
"What’s it a book of?"
"I think this one is a book of ancient recipes. There are numbers and measurements here."
"Y’know, you never told me you could read the old language."
He shrugged. "I read some of it. It’s a hobby of mine. Call me a cultural idealist, I cling to some of the old ways. I don’t think they should be abandoned in favor of a more leisurely existence."
"Can you figure out what all these books are?"
"Maybe. Might take a while."
I checked my watch and saw I had some time before I had to meet with Talya again. "So, let’s get to work."
It was easier said than done, of course. Even with Zero’s modest expertise, it took us the better part of the afternoon to sort through the various tomes and journals littering the floors and try to come up with a theory.
A bad one.
"It makes sense," said Zero. "I should have known the alliance was only part of it."
"So, tell me already."
Zero pointed to a stack of black leather-bound books. "The Kavnora is missing."
Even to a low-watt history buff like me, that meant something. The Kavnora was an ancient text reputed to hold the secrets to vampire mysticism. The instructions for performing ancient ceremonies and even alleged magic were contained within its pages.
"So, what’s he doing with it, then?"
Zero shrugged. "I don’t know. We’d need another copy of the book to try to narrow it down. There are all sorts of nasty things someone like Cosgrove would love to try out written inside."
"So, where do we get one?" There were very few copies of the Kavnora available since the knowledge contained within them was so powerful. ordinary vampires were never permitted to read an unabridged copy. Just carefully edited ones.
"Another elder," said Zero. "They’d have a copy."
"I don’t know of anyone else in the area, do you?"
Zero grinned. "Well, yeah, actually I do."
***
Zero and I split up.
"I’ll call you within twenty-four hours," he said and then hopped into his Chevy and slid back into the stream of traffic. In seconds, he vanished. I stood there for another minute looking at nothing in particular, before getting into the Jetta.
It had been a long time since I’d been out in the cold. And without Zero around, I truly was operating alone. No safety nets. No one I could call who could cover my six.
In the human intelligence game they call such operatives NOCs, which stands for non-official cover. They are the deep cover agents chiefly responsible for producing grade A top-of-the-line human intelligence. If they get caught doing their job, they are in a world of hurt. Imprisonment, torture, even death.
The reality of my current predicament seemed much the same way for me.
First, my Control was a traitor, and that meant he’d hang me out to dry without a moment’s concern if he thought I was a threat. Therefore, the goal was to make him think that I was not, while simultaneously trying to see if I couldn’t track Cosgrove down and kill him.
Second, I still had to rationalize this situation with Talya. As much as I felt we’d arrived at some understanding, a part of me still refused to completely trust her. At this point, I had no way of knowing whether paranoia or instinct was responsible for the lack of trust.
That said, there was no one else I could place any degree of trust in, minute it might be, except Talya. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.
So while Zero headed off to locate the other elder he knew lived close by, I headed back to Talya.
I drove to Harvard Square under assault of one of the windiest November rains I had seen in a long time. Seemed to me that each year the rains came earlier and windier. October was such a beautiful month. The trees exploded with the vivid red and orange hues of autumn; the days still mild and the nights cool. Usually, the night skies crackled crisp and airy, filled with stars. And since I had been born in October, I happened to place a little extra admiration upon it.
But god, did I hate November.
Even the radio did little to buoy my drooping spirit. I flipped the channel over to my favorite station, 101.7 WFNX, and listened as the DJ cranked tunes from the 1980′s. In comparison to today’s gloom and doom total-lack-of-any-discernible-melody songs, music from the 1980′s really had it going on. At least in my opinion.
Massachusetts Avenue slowed to a crawl by Central Square, but what else was new? Heading toward Harvard Square, the road went from three lanes down to two, down to one and a half. What a damned mess. Some poor excuse for a civil engineer was probably laughing all he way to the bank.
And me? I had conspiracy problems to deal with.
In the crapshoot of life, I seemed to have gotten some loaded dice.
I banked left and continued further down Massachusetts Avenue, past the Out of Town Newsstand and then circled around and down JFK street. At the end I swung around and into the Charles Hotel garage, finding a spot on the second level down.
I took the stairs to the courtyard, walked into the lobby and into the bar, checking to see if anyone followed me in.
No one did.
I used to phone at the concierge to ring Talya’s room. She answered on the first ring.
"It’s me."
"You want to come up?"
That was a loaded question. I’d found myself thinking back to the hotel room when she’d leveled the gun on me while standing there completely nude. She had a terrific body. Sculpted but wonderfully curved. She hadn’t succumbed to the ridiculous notion that to be beautiful meant you had to weigh less than the lettuce leaf most models ate for breakfast. She had some extra meat on her around the hips and thighs, sturdy muscle that made her more voluptuous.
So yeah, I wanted to go up to her room. And yeah, I wanted to ravage the hell out of her. Maybe even have some juice. Just a little. Strangely enough, I think I wanted the sex more.
That’s why I said no.
She sounded disappointed. "I’ll be right down."
I went back into the bar, ordered some orange juice and sat down to wait. She slipped into the bar a few minutes later wearing her trademark outfit of a turtleneck and stretch pants. If all women knew how to dress like Talya, my world would be a happier place. Just seeing her in a turtleneck really carbonated my hormones. And then, of course, I thought of her in the turtleneck and just a pair of string bikini panties.
I took a long sip of orange juice.
She looked at me funny. "You okay?"
"Fine," I said setting my juice back down on the glass table top. I watched a little condensation bleed through the paper napkin and soak onto the glass. "Sleep well?"
"Could have been better." She shrugged. "But someone didn’t want to turn down my sheets."
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I just wouldn’t. But instead of making a snappy comeback, I simply nodded.
She frowned. "Any news today?"
Plenty. But I couldn’t tell her any of it. "Not really."
She leaned back in her seat. "You know, there’s something that’s been bothering me about this whole hunting thing."
"Yeah?"
She nodded. "Yeah. You never explained exactly why it is that you’re hunting him."
"Just a job."
"I’ve heard that line before, Lawson. Usually it means about as much as nothing."
I smiled. "Well, it really is my job."
"You know the kind of killer he is. I told you the last time he came to town he left a trail of bodies behind. My employers do not wish a repeat of the past."
"So who are your employers?"
I finished my juice and wished I had another. "A group that calls themselves the Council."
Talya grinned. "Sounds like you work for La Cosa Nostra."
"Not really, although there might be some vague similarities."
She glanced around the bar. I’d noticed that she did it very nonchalantly but all the while she was keeping track of who had entered, where they’d sat, and who had left. Extremely professional.
"And at what point did you realize that Cosgrove was a vampire?"
"Friend of mine was the medical examiner last time Cosgrove came through. I got a look at the bodies before anyone else."
"So what’s the body look like? I mean, they’re undead, right?"
I shook my head. "No, they’re living. Like I said before this isn’t the stuff of legends and it is. But things are different. Vampires evolved parallel to humans. The ingestion of blood affected their metabolic process and enabled them to live longer and have heightened senses and abilities. Their physical makeup is more able to endure extreme punishment, but wooden splinters in the heart kill them easily."
"I take it that revelation didn’t make the papers?"
I looked at her. "Talya, what do you think would have happened if word had leaked to the media about a vampire killing fifty people?"
She laughed, which was good. "We probably wouldn’t be sitting here talking right now."
"No shit. But you could always visit me in my padded cell."
"Mm, yes I could."
I’d meant it as a joke. Talya read some sexual innuendo into it. She seemed distracted for a moment and then refocused on me.
"Was it difficult selling your employers on the concept that Cosgrove was a vampire?"