Mortality Bites - The COMPLETE Boxed Set (Books 1 - 10): An Urban Fantasy Epic Adventure

by Ramy Vance

  His girlfriend’s name. I remembered for the hundredth time: Justin’s with Kat. Justin’s with Kat.

  I sighed. “Have you talked to Kat yet?”

  “Not yet.” A cloud passed over his face. “She’s been … incommunicado.”

  He and I may have already slept together twice, but that was when he thought I was Katrina. Not when he knew I was me. Things were different now. And before we got together—truly together—I wanted him to make things right with Katrina. It was the only way any of this had a hope of longevity. And I wanted longevity.

  I forced a neutral expression before I looked up at him. “Talk to her,” I said. “OK?”

  “I will,” he said with utter seriousness. Then that spark returned. “But I still get to sleep on your floor tonight.”

  I nodded slowly. “For your protection.”

  “Right. Maybe I should wear one of your nightgowns, too.”

  I glared. “It won’t fit.”

  “Empusa won’t suspect me in a floral nightgown.”

  We pushed the museum doors open, stepped into the daylight. “You’re way too irreverent about this whole situation.”

  “One thing I learned from Kat,” he said, a certain wistfulness entering his voice, “irreverence can be a great weapon against your enemies.”

  CHAPTER 18

  We came into the police station and walked up to the desk, where a forty-something female officer sat with forms strewn in front of her. As we waited to be acknowledged, she scratched at her brown bun with one finger and didn’t lift her eyes from the paper she was filling in.

  Her pen just kept scratching.

  It occurred to me that the police station used to have a valkyrie officer roaming campus, or maybe I was imagining things. Maybe the valkyrie had just been a student, and I just hoped the police force employed an Other. Because right now, they were looking pretty universally human.

  “Hi there,” Justin finally said.

  Her eyes lifted, wanton and tired. When they settled on Justin, a tiny flame burst into life. “How can I help you?”

  I sighed; the halo effect.

  Before Justin could answer, I stepped forward. “We’re here about the two murdered McGill students. We believe we know who the suspect is.”

  Her eyes trailed reluctantly over to me. “Who are you two?”

  “We’re students at McGill.” She looked unimpressed, so I added, “We were the first two on the scene of the murder on Saint Catherine Street. I spoke with Officer Tremblay last night.”

  Her eyebrows went up. Apparently I had strung all the right words together. “All right.” She lifted her pen, pointed at a row of chairs. “I’ll see if I can get you in to talk to him.”

  We sat, and she went back to her forms. Around us, the only noises were the sounds of her pen and a wall clock ticking down the time until evening came again.

  Evening, and her. The killer, Empusa.

  Justin leaned toward me, eyes on the officer. “I’ll bet this is the last thing she expected when she signed up for the force.”

  “Who knows.” This woman worked in a warm, relatively non-stressful environment compared to most officers on duty. “Maybe this was exactly what she expected.”

  I glanced over at Justin, who sat ramrod straight in his chair. His left leg had fallen into a slight jiggle, and I knew what he meant was: this was the last thing he expected for himself. He’d rather be out there, in the world, climbing mountains and fighting three-headed dogs. He was all physicality and action and utilizing each of his senses.

  But I could sense this was new. He wasn’t always like this. Justin, with all his gung-ho-ness, was a man with something to prove. But unlike so many men who set goals to prove their worth to themselves, I got the sense that Justin needed to prove his worthiness to someone else.

  That someone: Kat.

  I’ve seen love drive men to acts of insanity for love. Justin loved Kat. Loves Kat.

  I just hoped he had the good sense to navigate those mountains and three-headed dogs—and people like Sergeant Johnson and the World Army—without getting himself killed. I worried about him; I could at least burn time to use magic, but he was just … human. All he had were his (ample) brawn and his brains.

  And, of course, his halo effect.

  Ten minutes later, a door opened. Officer Tremblay appeared, his eyes settling on Justin at once. He gestured us into his office, where we sat down opposite him at his desk.

  Before he could ask any questions, I launched right into it. “Officer,” I said, “we’ve been doing research, and we think we know who was behind those two murders. And she’s very likely not done terrorizing the city.”

  To his credit, Tremblay jumped right into it with me. “She?”

  “An Other from Greek mythology called Empusa,” I said. “She’s a shapeshifter who preys on young men.”

  “A shapeshifter.”

  “Right.”

  “An Other from Greek mythology.”

  “Right.” How many times was I going to have to confirm what I’d just said? “She always appears missing a body part—a leg or eyes or an arm. And she especially craves young men for the freshness and purity of their—”

  He exhaled. “I still can’t get my head around this kind of talk. A few years ago, the worst criminals were druggies and drunk college kids.”

  “It’s not talk—it’s a solid lead,” I said, irritation rising in me. “She’s actually out there, and she’s going to kill another male student. It’s in her nature, and McGill is like Candy Land.”

  Tremblay looked surprised, sitting back in his chair. “OK,” he said, arms folding over his chest. “So you’re telling us to be on the lookout tonight for this Empusa.” Once again, I could tell he wasn’t sold on whatever I had to say. He knew I was an encantado—an Other.

  I kept trying. “You should alert the campus administration so they can take steps to protect the male students.”

  The tiniest smile bloomed on Tremblay’s face, so small I could have mistaken it simply for interest in what I was saying. “Like lock them all up in a gymnasium with coffee to keep them awake?”

  I wanted to sock him in his vaguely amused mouth. “That would be at least doing something.”

  His eyes drifted to Justin. “You said you’re one of those World Army cadets.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Has Sergeant Johnson been made aware of this Empusa ahead of tonight’s patrol?”

  I looked over at Justin. “Patrol?”

  “Not yet, sir. I was planning to tell him this evening.” He glanced over at me, apology written on his face, before returning his attention to Tremblay. “If Empusa is the Other responsible—and I believe she is—we’ll be safer on patrol than asleep.”

  “We?” I said. “I thought you were going to be sleeping in my dorm tonight. Wearing my nightgown.”

  Tremblay’s eyebrows went up again, and Justin’s cheeks reddened. “I was just joking around with you, Isa.” He turned fully toward me now, taking one of my hands in his. “I’d already volunteered to be part of the squad patrolling campus after sundown. We’ll be going half the night.”

  My mouth hung open. They hadn’t even known about Empusa when Justin volunteered, which meant this World Army patrol around campus had been in the works.

  “This sounds a lot like security theater,” I blurted. “A lot like a bunch of students with false, martial authority.” The worst part: Justin had been planning to do this all day, and he hadn’t bothered to tell me.

  Justin dropped my hand. “We’re protecting this campus.”

  “Well,” Tremblay said, “if you see anything, do not engage. Call us—the number’s on the wall.” He pointed at a sign with 911 written on it. “We’ve got a whole slew of equipment for dealing with Others of just about every species …”

  I stood, set my fingers on the desk. I wasn’t about to listen to him detail all his anti-Other gear. And I was getting angrier and angrier that Justin had
hid this patrol from me. “Well, Officer, I’ve told you everything I came to tell you. Thank you for your time.”

  Before Tremblay or Justin could react, I grabbed my purse and walked out of his office. When the door closed behind me, the female officer didn’t glance up from her paperwork. And even though I hoped—expected, even—Justin would come after me, he didn’t.

  No one did.

  ↔

  The next morning, I woke to another murder.

  At some point Aimee had crawled into bed with me—which was unusual, given she usually woke up way, way earlier than me—and was spooning me like a baby koala on its mother’s back. When I sat up, she murmured, “Don’t go. It’s too scary out there.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I went to the dining hall for breakfast, and everyone was crying. It’s so sad.”

  I turned toward her, pushing my hair out of my face. “What’s sad?”

  Not Justin, I selfishly thought. Whatever happened, please don’t let it be Justin. Because if something had happened to him, it would have been because I had just walked out of the police station and left him alone. Even when I knew what he was going to do, and what Empusa was all about.

  Aimee’s eyes finally opened, and she pulled the covers tight around her. “The student body president was discovered dead in his bed. Missing his tongue.”

  “His tongue?” I repeated, my insides turning over. My stomach was empty, but I felt nauseous.

  She nodded. “There’s going to be a curfew from now on. No students out after dark until they find the killer.”

  After dark. So Tremblay had probably followed my lead about Empusa being a nocturnal killer. Or they were just going by the data: three deaths, all at night.

  And then there was the fact of the curfew. Because of these deaths, our entire lives were being affected. This school was becoming a frightened, frightening place. Which I knew would only get worse the longer the killings went on.

  “The worst part,” Aimee said, “were the stories of those birds. Apparently they swarmed on campus last night, diving people and attacking them. Everyone was terrified, and a few people even got hurt.”

  “When?”

  “When what?”

  “When did the birds attack? Was it the same time as the murder?”

  She shrugged beneath the comforter. “I don’t know, Isa.”

  Almost certainly they’d happened at the same time. I climbed out of bed, fully awake now. When I glanced at the clock—GoneGodDamn, I was late for work at the lab—I started my familiar rush around the room, dressing and brushing my teeth all at once.

  Then I remembered today was my first day working under Dr. Russo, the World Army’s top scientist. The same World Army who was currently turning my sort-of boyfriend from a student into a soldier.

  Dr. Russo had respect. She had sway. And she was a top researcher of Other DNA … which meant I could take my lead about Empusa straight to the top and maybe be taken seriously. She might even have ideas for how to capture this Other and end the murders.

  I swallowed as I left the dorm and started walking to the biology building. The World Army. It seemed like they were closing in on my life from every front. Justin. My research. Campus patrol.

  Be brave, Isa, I repeated to myself as I came into the building and walked down the hallway past the research labs where I had spent all my time working, and where Dr. Russo’s Other Anti-Extinction project was now taking place.

  As in, literally right now.

  I stopped short as I passed one of the doors, glanced left through the small window into the lab room. A sign had been posted since yesterday: OTHER ANTI-EXTINCTION INITIATIVE PERSONNEL ONLY.

  Personnel. That word belonged exclusively to stick-up-their-ass organizations like the World Army.

  When I came to the door, it was still a knob-turn, but they had begun to install what looked like a keycard entry for extra security. Would I be required to use a keycard to get into the lab from now on? And since when did research in the biology department of a university require this kind of security?

  I stood on my toes to see through the small window. Inside, I caught a glimpse of Dr. Russo’s waterfall of black hair as she turned and came toward the door. Here was the woman I wanted to talk to about Empusa, and yet another impulse surged in me.

  She was coming, and the two impulses battled for a half-second before the newer, dumb one won out. I jerked back from the window, falling against the wall just before the door opened, casting me in its shadow as she came tap-tapping out in her high heels and white jacket, her purse slung over her shoulder. She walked right on past in a hurry and never even noticed me.

  I glanced at my phone in my bag. Right, it was the lunch hour.

  Before the door could shut, I caught the knob. Even though I was 100%, completely allowed in this lab—my workstation was in here, after all—I felt like I was doing something illicit. Was I even “Other Anti-Extinction Initiative personnel?” Not yet, but I would be. I was part of their grant, one of their key researchers.

  Which was why I stepped inside the lab and started looking around. Standard procedure on the first day on the job, right? Every employee has to get the lay of the land. And what I discovered was a completely different laboratory than the one I’d spent my undergraduate life working in. This place was full of top-notch equipment, machines I didn’t even know how to use. One of them was bigger than me and looked like a gigantic waffle iron.

  Despite everything, I felt vaguely giddy. The biology department had always been seriously underfunded, and even though I wanted to drive a hot poker through the World Army’s logo every time I saw it, visions of the advances I could make for Otherdom were dancing through my mind.

  “Hello?” I called.

  No answer.

  So I was alone. For now.

  New partitions had been installed, doors added. I peeked in through a couple of them and discovered more equipment, some of it still in its wrapping.

  One door was locked, the keycard unit already fully functional. It didn’t have a window, and the walls weren’t partitions like the rest. This was a solid room they’d installed, and it was the only one the World Army had completely secured.

  The rules of any good psychological thriller dictated that the key to a nefarious organization’s plans lay behind the ultra-secure door labeled with a gold-lettered placard reading: Dr. Serena Russo, Head of AOEI.

  OAEI. Other Anti-Extinction Initiative.

  I set my ear to her door and listened, though I didn’t know what I expected to hear. Evil whispers? Of course, I heard nothing but the whistle of the heating vent above me.

  I tried the knob anyway, just for kicks. And by the GoneGods, it opened right up.

  New rule: always try the most obvious option first.

  I pushed the door open, and as I passed through the threshold, the scent changed to something citrus and fragrant. It even smelled nicer in here, not to mention the array of right-out-of-the-box equipment arrayed around the room. Several microscopes of varying sizes, slides, petri dishes, dyes, forceps, two Bunsen burners.

  And one particular microscope sitting prettily in the center of her desk with a petri dish in it.

  I came around her desk to where Russo had evidently been hard at work before she left. At this point, I knew I was way, way out of bounds. Unequivocally. If Dr. Russo or Professor Allman had walked in right now, I would be toast, as Americans say.

  But despite my fascination with science, I’d always trusted my gut. And right now, my gut was telling me that I should be breaking a few rules. Namely, I should be snooping into this World Army scientist’s very important work.

  Because I might not get another chance.

  Before me stood the fanciest microscope I’d ever seen, much less set my face to. What can I say? I’d spotted a petri dish under the lens, and a magnified petri dish is an impossible-to-resist lure for any biologist.

  I lowered my face to the eyep
iece. And I saw something I’d never seen before.

  An unfertilized Other embryo.

  I knew right away it wasn’t human, because I’d spent a great deal of time studying human embryos. And this looked nothing like a human embryo. It was twice the size, and instead of being round like a human’s, it was oblong.

  Dr. Russo was studying Other reproduction. Which meant the World Army was studying Other reproduction.

  Oh my GoneGods. Or as we encantado liked to say in Brazil, Goddess Yemoja!

  The thing was this: Others were completely barren. After the gods left and we became mortal, we had been given the reproductive parts, but they just didn’t work. We had the eggs, the spermatozoa, but they were inert. They didn’t make magic (well, in the fluid-exchanging, squishing our parts together, baby-making sense).

  Except I had always known it was possible. Or maybe it was a reckless hope that had led me to study Other DNA. I knew that without the third strand of the helix mapped, all of it was for naught. Embryos couldn’t be fertilized and babies couldn’t be born.

  Which was why I’d spent the past year and a half on that preliminary step, and only now was I getting anywhere with the mapping.

  I stood up straight, my heart galloping. My hand went to my chest, slid down to my belly. My intentions had been pure—good. I just wanted Others to live on, to be able to procreate if they wished.

  I wanted to be able to procreate. To have a baby.

  But the World Army’s intentions? Well, they were an army. No matter what they claimed, one prerogative would always take priority: protect humanity above all else. Which didn’t mean anything good for these Other embryos, these future babies—if they ever managed to figure out how to make the egg and sperm come together.

  Beside the microscope, a manila folder gently flapped under the heating vent like it was begging to be opened.

  So I obliged.

  Inside, I found a full profile of—as it turned out—one of the most powerful Others from antiquity. I flipped through images, details from lore and myth, and even relevant passages from the two plays and one biography in which she’d appeared.

  The daughter of a goddess and a spirit.