Graveyard Shift
Page 18
He hoped he’d be putting all this stuff back soon. His gut told him he was being an optimist. He locked the storage unit and slammed the door on the Explorer. He pushed the door hard against the frame. The entire vehicle rocked forward under the force of the impact. The metal made a crunching noise he didn’t like the sound of, and he thought of the additional paperwork he was going to have to do to explain the damage to the department vehicle. But now the door was more secure than any lock. No one other than him was going to be able to open it without hydraulics.
He could deal with the paperwork and explanations later. For now, he would park the Explorer in a monitored slot, and then he could finally take a shower and recharge. He only had a few minutes left. He could feel himself shutting down.
* * *
Alex stepped out of his private elevator and checked the alarm system. No alarms. Nothing had tripped the motion detectors. Motion detectors could be defeated, but that usually took time, and his were set so that anything larger than his cat would set them off. He’d take the risk and assume that no one had made it up here.
He unlocked his door and took in the scene, looking for anything out of place. Nothing. The first rosy fingers of dawn were creeping into the large-pane windows. The warm dry air greeted him.
He stepped inside, closed the door, and set the security system to “stay” mode. He took off his shoes and checked the carpet carefully. It was clean. He hadn’t tracked any gunk in with him.
He stripped off his synth-blood-covered clothes. Most of it had dried and clotted, but it still felt tacky to the touch, and boy, could this stuff stain. A black cat poked its head inquisitively around the corner and gave him a dubious look, as if to say, “What kind of mischief have you been up to? And where is my food?”
“Hello, Bastet, are you hungry?”
Balling his clothes up into a bundle, he made his way toward the kitchen. He quickly navigated a small maze of pedestals with various ancient artifacts displayed on them, and lighted cases filled with treasures that would make any antiquities museum outside of Cairo pale in comparison. If knowledgeable investigators ever set eyes on his collection, Alex would have a lot of explaining to do. After all, how could he convince anyone that he was the original owner?
Once in the kitchen, he opened a drawer and after some quick, blind fumbling retrieved an old plastic shopping bag. He thrust the soiled clothes into it. He wouldn’t be wearing these ever again. He tossed the bag in the trash. The jacket would be a different story. That would have to go to the cleaner’s. He set his phone, his keys, and the flash-bang on the counter, and then took a cat-food tin out of the pantry.
He opened the refrigerator and took out a premixed bottle of his tonic. He gulped down more than half of it before coming up for air. The cat leapt nimbly onto the counter and meowed at him insistently.
“Patience, okay, I’m getting to it.” He grabbed a fork out of a drawer and scooped the food out in to a small glass dish. The cat didn’t even wait for him to finish, digging into the food as he was putting it in. He left the fork on the counter for Bastet to lick.
Carrying the bottle, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He let the water get good and hot as he polished off the bottle’s contents. He stepped in and let the six showerheads scourge the night’s activities from his body. Somehow, the water just never seemed to be hot enough, though he knew it was nearly scalding. He stood there just enjoying the luxury of the shower and appreciating that for a small amount of time, he didn’t have to do or think about anything.
After what seemed like a mere instant, he stepped out and dried himself off very briefly. Just enough so he wasn’t dripping wet. He would let the air dry the rest of him. He wrapped a towel, shendyt-like, about his waist and stepped back out.
He couldn’t wait to greet the day. He opened the door to the solarium, dropped the towel from his waist onto a lounge chair, stepped naked into the light of the rising sun, and let it wash over his dark skin. The solarium was his favorite room, by necessity if nothing else.
Massive windows rose from the floor to connect to the glass ceiling. Artwork from the Egyptian Old Kingdom decorated the mostly open space, which was broken up by large pillars meant to recall those of the temple of Het-ka-Ptah, at Men-nefer, which the Greeks had called Memphis. A waist-deep pool dominated the middle of the room. Soon the sunlight would contribute to the room’s greenhouse effect, making it much warmer than most people would like. Alex didn’t mind; it served to remind him of home. His first home. His real home. Kemet. The Black Land. Egypt. Even now, after all these years, that last name sounded very foreign to him.
Already he could feel his vigor returning. He bathed in the sunlight’s golden glow. A sun worshiper shouldn’t have to work the graveyard shift. Throwing his hands over his head, he stretched his tired body and paid his respects. And Re did restore him, as only a god could.
The weariness of the night passed from his sinews, and new reserves of strength poured into him. He decided that Aguirre and the paperwork could wait a few more hours. He would have a lie-down in the solarium, among the framed papyrus artworks that adorned the walls, and just relax. He was starting to feel a lot better already.
Then the phone rang.
20
Marcus let the heady rush from the wine wash over him and tried to forget the night’s troubling events. Filip had revealed disturbing developments, thropes and vampires working together with humans in the middle. It didn’t make sense, but the evidence at Filip’s, and at the fear-blood-laden crime scene earlier, suggested that they were at least receiving goods from the same supplier.
Next to him, a shapely young blonde stirred in her sleep. Marcus had requested she consume at least half of a bottle of a rare Sassicaia wine before feeding on her. He ran a hand through her silk-fine hair and felt the warmth of her.
A groan of ecstasy caught his attention. He diverted his eyes to the other divan. Constance was now feeding on her third. Their bodies entwined in a lovers’ embrace. She fed while he thrust into her. Nearby, two other young men with underwear-model bodies slept naked.
A moment passed and Constance continued to feed. She was feeding too long. Marcus readied himself to intervene. He propped himself on one arm and prepared to move across the room to wrench the young bleeder from Constance if she did not break the embrace on her own. This wasn’t that kind of place. Having a bleeder die here would cause unnecessary complications for everyone.
From the outside, this was just another upscale house in the suburbs with high privacy walls. Inside, it was one of the most elite blood clubs in the world. It was a closely guarded secret for the aristocracy of vampires. No one even suspected its existence. Certainly not Lelith and her cronies at the Lightbearers, not even the other boys from UMBRA, when they’d still been interested in such things. It was Marcus’s gift to himself and his closest friends. But if Menkaure ever found out, Marcus would never hear the end of it. Alex just did not understand.
He carefully screened his stable of bleeders. What other vampires chose to control through fear or withholding of favors, Marcus chose to secure through luxury. In exchange for their voluntary service as bleeders exclusive to Marcus and his friends, he granted them access to a lifestyle of extreme affluence they stood little chance of enjoying otherwise. They could leave whenever they wanted, but why would they want to? And when Marcus grew tired of their blood, he rewarded them with a healthy stipend to retire on in exchange for their continued silence.
He cleared his throat loudly and Constance got the hint. She broke off contact with the young man, pushing him from her.
The man glared at her for a moment; then he regained his senses, nodded as he moved off the divan, and joined the other bleeders on the floor.
“Leave us,” Constance said in Latin.
The man nodded. He roused his companions and the woman near Marcus. There was some brief activity as they gathered their varied articles of clothing and left the room.
“I have had a long night.”
“So have we all. But you still dwell on the events. Let them pass for now. Night will return soon enough.”
“And carry with it new mysteries. There is something strange at play I cannot quite grasp.”
“I don’t want to talk shop.” She slipped back into English.
He followed her lead. “What do you want to talk about?”
She shrugged. That particular movement did delightful things to her anatomy. He never tired of looking at her.
“Have you seen the renovations at Aguirre’s church? I would not have thought it possible.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m not in the mood to speak of Aguirre, and especially not of churches. Come here and let me slip your mind of such things.”
He shook his head. “No, you come here. Aguirre might be on to something.”
Constance moved off the divan with her face in a playful pout. “I’m not interested in Aguirre’s progress or his lifestyle of denial and guilt. To answer your question, yes I have seen the renovations. I’m not as easily impressed as you are.”
She pushed him onto his back and straddled him.
“When did you see them?”
“Last night. I just missed you, as a matter of fact.”
She pushed Marcus’s hands over his head and held them pinned at the wrist with one of her hands. He let her do it.
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
She grabbed the girth of him and slipped him inside of her.
“Now, can we stop all this talk of priests and churches? My thoughts reside on much baser things.”
Marcus laughed. “You are insatiable.”
“Prove it.”
21
7:40 A.M.
The phone’s insistent ringing brought Alex from his reverie. The automated voice of the caller ID announced, “Secure Caller.” That meant work, probably Roberts, most likely calling to nag him about stupid paperwork.
He answered the phone.
“Romer.”
“Good! At least you’re home! Why aren’t you answering your cell?” Captain Roberts sounded put out.
“It’s in the other room. Didn’t hear it.” Something about the captain’s tone bothered him. “What’s going on?”
“How … You don’t know? It’s all over the TV.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Well, it’s about to get a lot more interesting. There’s a general recall. Maximum deployment. We’ve got fucking vampires killing a family, a whole family, in retaliation for Abraham’s handiwork last night. Fucker started a war.”
“We know he did it?”
“Not like it matters, but yeah, his calling card was there. What matters is that the sangers hit back. Mayor’s panicking. Word is the governor is calling up the National Guard. Lelith’s calling for heads, literally. Everyone has to come in. The city’s gonna blow up.”
“Fill me in.”
“Sangers hit a random family as far as we can tell. They filmed the whole thing. Made sure they didn’t catch themselves on camera, at least not clearly. We’ve got people going over every frame. Anyway, they posted it on the Internet and sent it to the media. Some of those fuckers are airing it! They killed the whole family, mom, dad, the kids. They say there’s gonna be another tonight unless Abraham turns himself in or we catch him first.”
Alex let out a sigh. It really had only been a matter of time. He was a bit surprised it had taken this long.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where your partner is?”
“No. He’s with the lieutenant. You know how they are with their secrets. I doubt you’ll be able to get a hold of any nocturn right now.”
“Figured as much. That’s the trouble with this Nocturn Affairs Section. Half you fuckers are vampires! I need you here ASAP.”
“I’ll be there,” Alex said, but then he had an idea. “Actually, give me a couple hours. I have a source that has an ear to the ground. He might be able to help.”
“Old friend or new.”
“Very old.”
“Don’t take too long, I need all my good heads in on this.”
22
By the time Alex battled through the horrible traffic, it was almost midmorning. It looked to him like the entire human population of the city was ignoring the suggestion to remain indoors and was using it as excuse to skip work and skip town. The last time he’d seen congestion like this, people thought a category-four hurricane was on a collision course with Miami. It made the commute miserable. But more people clearing out of the city now would mean less chaos tonight. Hopefully.
He spent the time surfing from radio station to radio station, listening to the news and reactions to it. The talk-radio people were loving it and entertaining the ideas of all kinds of wackos today. Everyone with an opinion needed to voice it on the air. Most were calling for the Nocturn Killer to do the right thing and turn himself in. How likely was that? Alex wouldn’t put odds on it.
Then there were folks calling in who were genuinely terrified. They were the ones that really made Alex nervous. They said that they’d kill any vampire that came near them, guilty or not. They weren’t going to take any chances. Alex knew that the majority of those people would be unable to carry out their threats, but they could dish out a lot of collateral damage trying.
All the while, Alex kept calling Aguirre, Marcus, and Constance, with no success. He hoped that Aguirre was keeping to his faith and would be up during the daylight. More than that, he hoped Aguirre would have something for him. The identity of the new Ancient in the city would be fantastic, or Abraham’s identity; or, failing that, any lead on these new killers who murdered the family would be a welcome treat. It was a long shot that he would get any of those things.
Alex pulled into the lot at Aguirre’s church complex. It looked deserted, as usual. The dark gray buildings stood out against the bright blue sky and held their ground against the strong sun. The campus sprawled, each building connected through covered and enclosed walkways. Though it should have been emitting an aura of sanctity, it generated an ominous impression instead, like a black hole.
He walked up the stairs to the nondescript entrance and rang the bell as a small sign requested. He waited, consciously forcing himself to enjoy the fresh air and the nice day. After a moment, he pressed the button again and then banged on the doors literally loud enough to raise the dead.
A buzzing sound came from the door, and Alex pushed it in. There was a sign on an inner set of doors: PLEASE ENSURE THE OUTER DOORS CLOSE BEHIND YOU.
Alex did. Marcus was correct when he said that Aguirre had changed the interior of the church. Already this was different. This “airlock” version of the two sets of doors was ostensibly for keeping the sunlight out, but Alex knew better. This was more in tune with Aguirre’s sense of security.
He pushed against the inner set of doors. They didn’t budge. Alex looked around the small vestibule, waiting for the inner set of doors to open. He was sure someone was watching him.
The inner set of doors opened tentatively and Alex could see a smallish figure in a dark gray robe. After a moment, it threw back the large cowl of its hood, revealing a stunning auburn-haired female vampire.
He was taken aback. The idea that a woman was greeting him shocked him more than the fact that she was a vampire.
“Welcome,” she said, “how may we be of assistance?” Her accent was hard to place. Bavarian?
She wrinkled her nose as she took in Alex’s scent. She could smell him through his cologne. He mentally reproached himself. He should have taken that into consideration; it might be trouble.
Then he saw compassion come across her features. Before he could say anything, she continued. “You are ill? A terminal disease?”
Alex decided to go with that. That story was as good as any and easier than the truth. He nodded.
“I’m beyond their kind of help,” Alex replied, then realized it came off as a defeatist statement when he was just trying to state a fact. He smiled. “I’m here to see Lopé. Father Aguirre. I’m an old friend and I need some advice.”
“Oh, of my own free will I invite you to cross the threshold.”
Alex made a show of crossing the threshold. He paused and considered how much he should give away. Then again, he’d just told her he needed to see Aguirre.
“For your freely given welcome, I will return no harm.”
She didn’t bat an eye. This woman was old-school. Good manners always got you farther, even with vampires. An old wives’ tale tied a building’s threshold to one’s ability to deal with a vampire. It was a variation on the old “having to invite a vampire in” myth. The vampires had turned it on its ear; entering “of your own free will” simply meant that you did not intend any harm. Kind of a “live and let live” promise. Alex hadn’t thought anyone even bothered with that kind of show anymore. Apparently, he’d been wrong.
She turned away from him and led him into the church. The changes to the interior surprised him. He’d been expecting the dungeon-like atmosphere he’d seen the last time. Very dark, with all the windows covered in heavy drapes; a cavern lit with candles. Generally, it had been the perfect atmosphere for those given to self-flagellation and self-loathing.
Now, large banks of lights lit it brightly. Sunlight streamed in through the numerous stained-glass windows. The drapes were still there but they were now white where they had been dark crimson before. It looked to Alex like a proper church, a place of worship. He wouldn’t have given it a second thought, except that the vampire with him was walking down the center aisle apparently without a care. She walked in and out of the brilliant stained-glass sunbeams. Vibrant greens, yellows, and reds illuminated the long rows of hardwood pews.