“Yeah, I understand. I don’t know what to tell you, most of my unit is out. Listen, one of my best guys just walked in. I’ll send him down ASAP. Okay. Good luck to you to.” Roberts hung up the phone and took a deep breath, then looked up at Alex.
“Okay, so what the hell’s so important you can’t talk about it over the phone?”
Alex thumped the tainted bottle of Sangri on the captain’s desk. “Someone’s cutting Hemo-Synth with meth. That’s what’s making the sangers go all bugshit.”
“A new drug?”
“That’s what I thought. My source says that it wouldn’t work like a drug. At least not the kind anyone would consciously take. Any vampire that has a sip of that stuff will go loco and blood-frenzy inside ten minutes.”
“So the stuff on the shelves, not accidental I take it.”
“Naw, figure it for a test run of something bigger.”
“Shit.” Roberts ran a hand through his thinning hair. He looked like he’d aged years since yesterday. “Today of all days. Damn.”
“Yeah, it gets better. Last night Marcus and I found a new upscale blood club called Abzu in an industrial park.”
“Before or after the chamber of horrors.”
“Before. We didn’t get a chance to follow up on it thanks to the rest of the fun last night.”
Roberts nodded and gave Alex a “get on with it” face.
“Marcus went. I didn’t. He got made. When he came out he said he saw pallets full of Hemo-Synth products down there. Now, we don’t know if it’s this bad stuff here. But I’m thinking probable cause, right?”
“So what do you want?”
“We need to get in there. With this new intel, we shouldn’t wait till nightfall. We should go now, catch ’em with their pants down. Get me a warrant and cut loose whoever you can spare.”
“First off, we can’t spare anyone. The city’s tearing itself apart. That’s why no one is here. There’s rioting outside gun stores and antivampire lynch mobs running around.”
“Yeah, I just came from a scene over at the Ponces. Not an hour ago, some poor goth girl got pulled out of her apartment and staked by her neighbors, because they thought she was a vampire. She wasn’t. Just give me—”
“I’m not done. You’ve been out this whole damn morning so you’re in the dark. You haven’t got a clue what’s going on. So at least let me fill you in.”
Alex made a face but leaned back in the chair.
“Secondly, we’re not sending a bunch of humans to raid a known nocturn establishment without nocturn aid. It is bad politically and it’s damn near suicide.”
Alex opened his mouth to protest, but the captain was ahead of him.
“I know you think you can handle yourself. But you wouldn’t be the only one there. Besides, the DA’s office is in bed with the Lightbearer Society. We know this because this squad wouldn’t exist without a lot of deal making and substantial campaign contributions to various politicians. Hell, that woman Lelith is down there at least once a week and they’re thinking about giving her a chair on the city council. The second we even ask for a warrant they’d be tipped off.”
“So what? We hit ’em during the day, they still can’t move the stuff.”
The captain’s phone rang. He put the line on hold without looking.
“You’re assuming they don’t have humans working in their organization. If they’re cutting that stuff with meth, they could be involved with anybody. Or do you think they’re cooking it themselves?”
Alex started to answer, then thought about the torture room with the fear blood and the men who had threatened him at his building that morning. “Yeah. Okay.”
“This whole conversation is moot anyway.”
“Why is that?”
“You know that attack this morning? The family thing?”
“Tell me you caught the guys.”
“Already? That would be a good day. Does it look like we’re having a good day?”
Alex made a face again.
“Abraham turned himself in. That would be a good day, too, right? Except at last count, we have more than a dozen Abrahams who turned themselves in. More who we’ve gotten tips on. City Hall wants us to follow up on each one. Every whackjob who’s ever read an article on him is showing up with a claim. It’s like the Zodiac Killer times ten. They’re routing everyone to the Doral facility, yeah, even normal saps, where we get to interview these kooks. Trouble is, somewhere in there, we might actually have the real article.”
The Doral facility was a segregated holding facility on the west side of the greater Miami area. It had been constructed shortly after the Reveal, so that any apprehended thropes or vampires wouldn’t have to go through the system with humans. Since vampires seldom got caught and thropes were even more rarely taken alive, the facility didn’t see much use.
“Come on, you really think he’d turn himself in? That doesn’t fit the profile.”
“Doesn’t matter what we think, the politicians are doing the policework today. In any case, we need someone down there. The only guy we have there is Garza.”
“Shit. We have bigger things to do than this.”
“No you don’t. Not right now. Get down there.”
Alex stood up. He could see that all the lines on the captain’s phone were blinking. He picked up the bottle of Sangri.
“What are you going to do with that?”
“Taking it to the lab.”
“I’ll take it. You need to get down to Doral. It’s already a fucking zoo.”
Alex hesitated with the bottle. Then again, if you couldn’t trust a guy who hated vampires so much he’d left his terminal wife when she decided to turn instead of die, whom could you trust?
“Have them test it for meth against the other samples we’ve got.”
“What am I, a boot? And I need your source, Alex.”
“My source got it from his source. And he won’t tell me who that is. Don’t bother, I’ve already barked up that tree. Not happening. You know how vampires are.”
The captain nodded. “You’re burning daylight and I’ve got phones to answer.”
27
12:55 P.M.
The booking hall at the Doral facility wasn’t generally what one would call a hive of activity, since it normally accommodated only vampiric and therianthropic suspects. Today, with the admission of large numbers of human suspects into the small space, it was insane. Even though Roberts had painted a picture of what it was like, Alex was taken aback. Outside the building, a substantial mob had gathered. Word was out that Abraham had turned himself in. Hordes of people had turned out, either to cheer him on, or to curse him. The two camps were close to coming to blows and it was impossible for the handful of officers to control the situation.
Alex couldn’t even park near the building. He had to leave the Explorer almost four blocks away and fight his way forward through the crowd. When he reached the frail wooden sawhorse barricade hastily erected around the building’s entrance, it was like a tiny sanctuary from the rabble of shouting and slogan-chanting fanatics.
He felt a bit guilty when he showed his badge and looked into the pleading eyes of the much-too-young policeman trying to maintain order. Alex walked past him and told himself everyone had his role to play.
He called the officer over to him and deliberately turned his back to the crowd in a show of bravado. It was risky and dangerous, but he felt he needed to at least to maintain an illusion of confident authority.
“Listen, kid, most of these guys are just talking big, okay? They’re not interested in taking on a cop. They aren’t ready for that kind of trouble. Don’t let them forget that. Don’t act in charge, be in charge.”
The young man nodded, fear still in his eyes.
“Don’t forget there’s a building full of cops behind you who’ve all got your back. This crowd turns ugly, it will be uglier for them.”
Alex stole one last glance at the chanting and screaming crowd and walk
ed forward into the building, trying to forget about the young patrolman.
Inside the building, there was only one officer at the security desk. Alex showed him his badge. The man didn’t speak, but his eyes said everything. Welcome to bedlam.
As Alex walked farther into the building, a cacophony of chaos greeted him: telephones ringing constantly, people shrieking, shouted orders, pandemonium. He crossed into the main room. There were way more civilians here than he expected. The officers inside were almost as badly outnumbered as the ones outside.
He looked around and saw Stephanie Garza vainly trying to fingerprint one of the suspects. The man was resisting fiercely. Stephanie battled with the man’s cuffed hands but made no progress. The man had about as much a chance of being the real Abraham as Alex did. Alex pushed his way over to them.
He put his hand on the back of the suspect’s shoulder, in an “I’m your pal” kind of way.
“Is this Abraham?” Alex asked Stephanie. The detective looked like a wreck.
The man interrupted, “I’m the only real one! These other people are liars!”
“It’s been like this all morning,” Stephanie said.
“Okay, Abraham, why’d you turn yourself in?”
“Someone has to save those families from those bastards.”
“Yeah, we’ve got a real martyr here.”
“Okay, Abraham, we’ve got to fingerprint and process you or those bastards aren’t going to believe you turned yourself in. Understand?”
Some measure of comprehension seemed to show in the man’s crazed eyes.
“Yeah. I get it.”
“Right, so the faster Detective Garza can get you processed, the faster we can get the word out, and the killing can stop. So please cooperate.”
The man turned to Stephanie, and his entire demeanor changed. He was docile and helpful. Stephanie continued printing him.
“What’s the deal? I thought there were about a dozen?”
“About two hours ago. I lost count somewhere around twenty.” Stephanie had bags under her eyes. She looked like she could use about a week’s worth of sleep.
“Bet you wish you’d stayed in Narcotics, huh?” Alex tried to lighten the mood.
“What’s the secret? You look like you’ve just come off vacation.”
“That’s easy. I never sleep.”
Stephanie laughed. “Convenient.”
Another voice interrupted, “Holy shit! Alex!”
Alex whirled at the sound of his name and instantly recognized his old friend. “Trent? They’ve got you in this mess?”
“Yeah, I got roped in.” The man, a six-footer built like a lineman, thumbed the ID badge clipped to his suit’s lapel. The letters across the top spelled out FBI.
“You’re with the feds now?” Alex was quite surprised. Trent had been let go when the administration dissolved UMBRA, and he had been bitter. Alex had been sure he would never see him back doing government work. Then again, Alex had thought the same thing about himself.
“Yeah, they’ve got me consulting on nocturn behavior and psychology.”
“Nice.”
“There’s only two of us on the ground so far. We got in this morning, right in the middle of this shitstorm. The rest of the team is flying in piecemeal. Figured I’d lend a hand.”
“Mighty fine of you.” Turning to Stephanie, Alex asked, “Where can I make myself useful?”
Stephanie answered, “Just grab a desk, the crazies just seem to find you.”
“I’m not crazy!” the man he was still fingerprinting hollered.
“She meant the other crazies,” Alex answered.
“I’m going to be heading out to follow up on tips. You wanna come with?”
“Sorry, Trent, I’ve already been running all over the city this morning. I don’t feel like chasing my tail.”
“You’re missing out. We might get lucky.”
“I’ll pass. If I catch anything, you feds will steal all the glory anyway.”
“Well, that’s what we do.” Trent walked away laughing.
28
4:35 P.M.
Rhuna bounded back up the steps into the apartment. Three more trips, maybe two, and she’d be finished with her part. She stood to one side as Arthur moved down past her, his arms holding a suitcase and a plastic bag of groceries.
“We can buy more food.”
“No sense in letting it go to waste.”
She shook her head. The haul of cash they’d taken from the blood club would see them well provisioned for months, if not longer. There was no need to be frugal. The blood-club op had been a gratifying success. As Molony’s life had leached away from him and he’d grown progressively more desperate, he’d spilled his guts and given them a wealth of actionable intelligence. Whether or not it was all accurate was still in question. But not whether Molony thought it was. Rhuna was sure that Molony had died believing he was telling the truth.
She walked into the apartment and ran into John. He gave her playful pinch on her waist. She jumped away.
“Ow!”
“Stop horsing around,” Roeland interrupted, his tone serious. He was still angry with Rhuna for Molony dying earlier than he should have. Like it was her fault.
“What do you have left?”
“Nothing,” John said. He held up a small gym bag. “This is it.”
“Just a couple of things in the room,” Rhuna said.
Fifteen minutes earlier, Diana had called Roeland. She was frantic and said that Tom had gone missing. She’d already been looking for him for hours. Vampires could not have gotten to him in broad daylight, but they did have human thralls. They’d been getting ready to go help her when Roeland received a code-word text from Diana’s phone. It was a preestablished code to warn him that she was being coerced. Almost immediately afterward, Roeland’s phone rang again, but that time, he didn’t bother answering it and left it on the kitchen table.
That had been five minutes ago.
“Good. We leave in five. John, go help Arthur.” Roeland waited until John had left and closed the door.
“Rhuna, a word.”
“Look, if it’s about me and John, we don’t have time for this—”
“It’s not. You and I both know that with Molony’s information we could take down the Lightbearers’ operation at Haley House. But we four aren’t going to be able to do that alone. What help can we—”
“—expect from my people? None. I told you that when we started. I’m it. I’m all the help you’re going to get. Just me being with you makes them uneasy. The Pack’s Conclave doesn’t…”
There was something outside. Arthur was having some kind of coughing fit. Rhuna knew a fake cough when she heard it.
Roeland reacted. “What is it?”
“Someone’s outside.”
“Shit!”
Rhuna peered around him.
John was on his knees, his hands over his head. There was no sign of Arthur.
“Someone’s coming up the stairs. A lot of someones,” Rhuna said.
Roeland drew his pistol from his holster.
Rhuna smiled and let the beast awaken within her. Immediately she felt stronger, her senses sharpened, fingers extending into talons.
Roeland peeked out the window again. He gasped.
“The FBI?” He backed away from the window and tossed the pistol onto the kitchen table.
“Okay, we stick to the plan. They don’t know who you are, I’m the only one they’re after.”
“It could be a trick.” It was harder to talk now; her teeth were getting in the way. The power of the beast was coming to the fore, ravenous and raging, hungry for carnage.
Roeland stared at her.
“No, Rhuna.”
Then he did the dumbest bravest thing she’d ever seen. He charged her and wrapped her in a tight hug.
“They’ll kill you. They. Will. Kill. You.” He wrestled with her.
She forced the beast back with a terrible e
ffort, just as the doorjamb exploded in a storm of splinters and the entry team burst into the room.
29
6:15 P.M.
Alex did a double take at his watch. The last five hours had flown by. They’d had a steady stream of “Abraham” pretenders and a good amount of normal riffraff to be processed. As the day wound on and Central Booking became overwhelmed, some genius up the chain had decided to use Doral as the hot backup. Numerous rioters, looters, and ersatz vampire vigilantes were brought in. The arresting officers barely had time to drop off the offenders and record their offenses before the city needed them back on the streets to continue trying to control the mayhem.
He’d gone outside two hours earlier to catch some sun and recharge. In contrast to what he heard coming in from the rest of the city, he’d been glad to see that the crowd outside had thinned. It had calmed down as well. When he’d first arrived, it looked as if it could go full-blown riot. It seemed as if the really fervent polarizing elements of both camps had either left or tired themselves out. The remaining bunch were the looky-loos just wanting to catch a glimpse of the infamous Abraham, or just wanting to be part of the moment.
Alex rubbed his eyes and looked up at the new arrival an officer had just placed in the chair opposite him. This was number what? He’d lost count. They had to be setting a record for crazies today. Alex had processed at least eighteen Abrahams by himself. This was a colossal waste of time. The department had real threats to deal with.
Alex wished the latest man could be a joke. The man looked like he’d just popped out of a Cecil B. DeMille biblical production. Alex sighed and almost dreaded asking the question.
“Name?”
“Abraham, son of Terah.”
“Okay, so no surname I take it. Any aliases.”
“Avram, I am also called Abram. I am the chosen father of all the Israelites, Edomites, Midianites—”
“Uh-huh. Sorry to be rude, Abraham, but as you can see we’re really very busy today…” Alex trailed off.
Across the room, he could see that Trent had returned. Trent had a concerned look on his face and was moving with a sense of urgency. He had a large sheaf of papers in his hand and moved one of the officers off his computer so he could input data. Whatever was going on over there was a hell of a lot more important, or at least more interesting, than what was going on here.
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