Troy Ounce (Lopez Time Book 1)

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Troy Ounce (Lopez Time Book 1) Page 24

by Phillip S. Power


  In truth, no one could tell the same story twice without having memorized it. That was where keeping it short was important.

  The honest truth was that he only had a few minutes to cover, most of it being pretty boring.

  When Richardson and Mavic took him off to the side to collect his story, he just shorthanded the whole thing.

  “I was in Vancouver, Washington, when Detective Tran called me in. That meant running back. I was able to get that done inside about ten minutes. Possibly less. It’s incredibly painful to do that. When I got in, moving at full speed, I noticed that one of the suspects from the escape the other day was threatening several officers. His hand was glowing and pointed at them. That tends to mean a lot of power is in play. I didn’t get to check to find out why that was happening. Probably a weapon of some kind, rather than a simple spell. Anyway, I had to prevent the energy from being deployed. I punched the man once, in the head. That ended the threat.”

  After that he had to repeat things, but made sure he only used the exact same words. Each time.

  After ten minutes of this, the officers got it and left to go and file the paperwork in the right place. It was annoying. After that, oddly enough, he was sent home. To wait. As if he were going to need a few mental health days over a simple killing.

  “It’s like they don’t know what a vampire is at all.”

  Walking out, he headed back home. Once there he found Krista Hall asleep. In on his bed, thankfully. It would have been harder to deal with her if she’d taken the sofa, since he only used the bed for guests or sex. The sofa was where he lived. All the video games were out there in the front room, after all.

  The game wasn’t that thrilling. Oddly enough, he kept thinking about different things. The main one was, interestingly, what Finias had been telling him. That when Troy focused, if he did it well enough, he was harder to read, telepathically. It wasn’t a shield though. That was implicit in the statement. Harder to sense meant something specific.

  What he needed for a real shield that way, he didn’t know. Some kind of trick to occupy his mind might help a little bit though, as a starting point. A way to bury what he was really thinking or doing so deeply that even demons couldn’t figure it out.

  As he played the game, slightly absently, he also focused on doing that. Trying to hide his thoughts from the world. If it did anything, he couldn’t tell. That was a problem, he knew. If he tried to make a flame, but it didn't happen, then the feedback would help him learn. Doing this, well, he could tell when his mind was silent but that was all.

  Putting that on the back burner, he tried to work out what he needed to do at the moment. His work week was going to be screwed, he didn’t doubt. Killing someone, for any reason, had consequences in the human world. The Chief was being nice about it but there could be months of in-house investigation into what he’d done the night before. If the mages made a big deal out of it, then it could end up in the news, with his face attached to being the deadly vampiric monster of the hour.

  He hoped not. Still, if he had to leave the force, he could. There were other options.

  That just left the other things he needed to get done. Like breakfast for his new friend, Krista. And his new mind controlled slave, her mother. That part was a bit dangerous. Slaves were illegal. At least if you could get caught keeping them. Controlling a mind was a real gray area, as well. The trick would be in making certain that the woman only benefited from his input into her life. Then she’d never think to blame him for anything.

  People noticed the bad in their lives, but good things often were simply accepted, if there seemed to be any reason for it at all.

  To that end, he made pancakes, with eggs, for two. Then, instead of waking the lady up with a phone call, he used a lot of focus and a gentle nudge to get Kathy going that day. Half an hour later, a sober, clean and dressed woman was there, smiling at him.

  “Hi! I know that it’s a bit early, but I was actually up for once and figured that I should get a start on things. Becky is planning to leave later today. Is that all right? She might want to spend time with you…” That was a bit of a strange thing to say.

  So, Troy nodded.

  “I have food for both of you. Come on in. Let me knock and see if she wants to get up for the day?”

  He could tell from the movement in the other room that the actress was already up. Listening as well. At least she was hurrying. There was a trip to the bathroom first, but she didn’t put on makeup or anything. Just a light shirt and some shorts. Her legs weren’t perfect, but she managed better than average, he figured. She was an even tan color that was too dark for what she’d naturally become due to the sun.

  “Morning!” She yawned as she said it, then laughed about it, as if being sleepy was funny. “I took the bed. Were you okay out here? That… I should have taken the sofa. Sorry.” It was clear that she meant it.

  “That was right. I don’t sleep at night. Or during the day, which means that being out here was better. Anyway, things changed a bit last night. We had an event at the station. One of the blood mage killers was brought in, but managed to die before we questioned him. He was attacking, so I had to handle it.”

  Krista went wide eyed at the news, understanding what he meant instantly. Kathy was slower, but the fact was, the woman just wasn’t bright. Getting her to be that way would take some doing. Then, Finias had dumped it on him for a reason. That Troy was too stupid to understand it was probably part of the point. Telling her to think more might help, but that didn't change her biology.

  How he was supposed to do that was beyond him. Except that he knew that it was possible. There were healing magics, like Tor’s amulet. That was a major physical change that had taken only a few minutes. If he could find the field that promoted being smart, then hold it over Kathy with a bit of energy flowing in, that might, over time, reshape her mind.

  Krista reached out and took his arm in her warm, living, hand.

  “Oh, my, god! Are you all right? Do you need anything? That’s awful…”

  It was, but mainly because there were three killers left in the world.

  “I should be all right. The big issue is that I’m kind of riding a desk, if that, for a while. I can get you to back me up on the picnic that’s coming, right?” He didn’t think that was reasonable, but she took a breath and nodded.

  Her voice was adult sounding, even if she was younger than he was.

  “I have a bit of time. We start shooting Red Rain in a few weeks, so that’s going to be close. I can enlist some people for this though, I bet. Let me make some calls?”

  He wasn’t going to say no to the help, but held out his right hand.

  “Thanks. I’m still here though. I mainly just need a figurehead, in case work gets difficult about things. That could happen. Really, it depends what happens in the news. The man killed was a mage, but white and male, so it could be that no one cares about it.” That part sounded awful, but it was pretty much true.

  If he’d been black, Troy would have been screwed.

  Worse, the two white women knew it was true. They both nodded. That small kind that showed they didn't want to admit it, but showed understanding of reality. On this one, the light skin of the dead man was going to save Troy’s bacon.

  Possibly.

  They ate for a while, the women a bit concerned for him but not letting it ruin their day. After a while he was able to suggest they get out of the house. There were people to visit, after all. Like Darla Gibson and possibly a few other people that Troy didn’t know or care about.

  After they left, he sat for a bit, then turned on the television. Most days he didn’t bother with that, since it was never all that good. That day, when he checked the news, there was very little about the killing. When there was, on the most local station, they showed the video, right off the bat. It didn’t show him doing anything at all, just the mage’s hand glowing green and then his head popping.

  With no visible Troy at all.
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  The body was shot after a moment, but it was too late to change anything. Lars, if that was his name at all, was gone.

  The female reporter didn’t have a name for him but promised to keep them updated.

  As the day went on, the news started to come out. The dead mage’s name wasn’t part of it, however. Neither was Troy’s, handily enough. There was no picture of him, either. They kept playing the video, which had been released by the police. Mainly because it was really clear the the officers had acted appropriately. No one was even faulting the vampire cop. After all, if someone was coming at you with death hands or about to shoot a power beam, then you had to stop them.

  He kept waiting for the mages to announce that it was just a truth spell or something but they didn’t address it at all. That got him to want to hide a bit, since he hated confrontation about emotional things. To that end, he dialed one of the numbers that should have potentially linked him to President Weise, figuring that he was going to get the run around again.

  That was fine. He just needed to make the attempt to check in, after killing one of their people. Talking to their President wouldn’t bring the man back.

  “Jen Stone, how may I help you?”

  “Hello. This is Troy Lopez. I’m calling in about the mage that died last night, in Lincoln, Arizona?” It was possible that she wouldn’t know about the specifics, if she had any knowledge at all.

  The youthful sounding woman made a considering sound.

  “Ryan Templar. That seems pretty cut and dried. He was about to hit the police with a scatter spell. They would have died, before they could respond. Their bullet resistant vests wouldn’t have done anything to help save them at all. What station are you with? I can have someone call you back with the official statement, but I’ll need your number.”

  That was interesting. They knew the mage’s name but his had gone unnoticed. That was a positive in his mind.

  “Sorry. Officer Troy Lopez. Calling from Lincoln PD. More technically, I was calling to check in with Eric Weise. Um… I’m the vampire cop?”

  That got a soft gasp.

  “Oh. Okay, got it then. Sorry, I didn’t pick up on that first thing. I can pass a message along? I’m not that high up in the food chain here.”

  He understood that, having filled a pretty low position at the embassy himself for a few years. Technically he was even lower now. Human police officer didn’t rate at all, in the power structure he was in.

  “I can get that. I’m basically hoping that no one will be blaming me too much for it. You said it looked to be a scatter spell? I have no clue what that means. Can we get a breakdown on that? What it is, why you think that? Expert opinions and all that? I can go all week without being crucified, if we can avoid that kind of thing. Oh, inappropriate of me to mention but we have a picnic here in a few weeks. You’re invited. All of you.”

  “I’ve heard about that one. Lisa Weise got with me yesterday on it. I don’t know how this might influence our participation in that. I can make some calls? I still need your number.”

  “I have yours, so that seems fair. Let me…” He shared that out. It was his cell phone but that wasn’t too big of a deal. If people needed to be in touch with him, they did.

  Jen got off the line a bit formally. As if she were trying to get rid of a telemarketer, instead of an awesome him. Troy understood that though. She probably figured he wanted her to fix the world for him, given the subject matter at hand. That didn’t really sound like it was her job, though. It wasn’t even his, at the moment. No matter what it felt like. Not that he was going to get a choice in the matter if the mages decided he was in the wrong. That could happen, he knew.

  There had been a few riots over people being shot by police in the last few years. Only about half of them had a legitimate reason to be upset. If you tried to kill people, anyone, then it was fair for them to fight back. Even if it meant you dying. The police had as much right to do that as anyone else. They were, as hard as it was for some to believe, still people.

  He hadn’t personally been under threat. The other men there had been, however. The issue was that they had no clue as to how the mages would jump on something like that. It hadn’t really come up before that he knew of. In the past, when that kind of thing took place, the cops probably just died, so no one knew what to think about the matter.

  So, now they were going to see how an out and proud mage community was going to handle things like that. It meant he needed to not be too involved with the picnic. He’d been working on it for a week or so but the truth was that now it would seem like he, personally, was rubbing in what he could get away with. That was a bit sad but Tran could take over, if he helped from behind the scenes. They could credit Santos with the initiative. She was a cop. Also a human woman. It should play well enough.

  That started him on hours of phone calls. Most of them being dead ends.

  Tyler Gartner was busy, or so his secretary told him. Calley Hale wasn’t needed for the moment, even if she had more contacts with the mages than he did. Calling the President’s daughter was a no-go as well. That meant he ended up just sitting there, making contacts with a lot of people that didn’t have a clue what he was going on about.

  Hours later, feeling frustrated, his phone rang. Looking at it, he just felt a bit sad for a moment.

  “Troy Lopez.” Part of him expected it to be Roy Benson, firing his behind in order to save on problems. Instead it was someone else.

  “This is Alison. The Technician. I heard there was a minor mage problem there. Are you doing all right?”

  “Yes? Thanks for asking. I don’t know what the fallout will be, yet. How the mages will move on this one. It could get bad, which is less than perfect. I’m standing by what I did, but…” That didn’t mean a lot, if the world turned on him.

  There was a soft, bell-like, chuckle.

  “Oh. That one won’t be a real issue. The mages live by rules. Ryan there broke them. They don’t love killers any more than anyone else. Plus, they all know that Troy Lopez, the vampire line walker, is in charge here. Also, that this is my territory. That means, to the mages, that you’re my being to control, of course. Also, that they can’t win against you in a fight. This will show that one is real enough. At least for one on one action. Have you been practicing your own skills that way?”

  It was a change of topic, as if him killing mages wasn’t a big deal at all.

  “I have been, actually. In close to every spare moment, so far. I’ve been working on a mental shield, but honestly, I can’t tell if it’s doing anything. That and trying to brainwash my neighbor into not being a waste of space. Um, that’s Kathy Hoader? Don’t be too worried for her. I’m just trying to get her off drugs, maybe see if I can make her a bit more intelligent, if I can work that out. Finias suggested it. I guess they used to date? It sounds pretty miserable, to be honest.”

  “All right. That sounds like a good enough project for now. From now on, you need to check that kind of thing with Ann or myself. I’ll be by to check your work later. I take it that you’re in for a fun time of paperwork at the office? Everyone loves a nice pile of paperwork and red tape.”

  It was the case, so he made a noise that he hoped didn’t make him sound petty. He really didn’t mind doing that part too much.

  The greater demon went on, without making him talk about it.

  “Hang tight there. Practice and work on the community party. Don’t worry about the mages on this. I should tell you that I have this for you but you don’t need me for it. They won’t be a problem. Oh, that cult group might but if they come for you, even magically, then you can take them all out. Talk to you later!”

  There was no chance to say goodbye at all, much less ask questions. Like, for instance, why he needed to run anything in the world past The Rotted. They were kind of friends, in a backhanded fashion. It wasn’t as if he was her slave. If he was, then The Technician would leave him alone. At least she wouldn’t be trying to give him
orders or asking him to talk to her first before doing something.

  It wasn’t being done by accident, he didn’t think.

  For the next few hours, he just sat, trying to work out what he needed to do in order to make a person more intelligent. What he came up with sounded a bit too lame to really work. The basics of magic, at least the kind that he’d learned, was all about finding the sense or concept of a thing. Then adding power to it. If that was the case, he just needed to figure out what intelligence was, then place a sense of it over the correct brain. Adding power should cause the needed changes to take place, via sympathetic response. Simple.

  That required an intelligent person in the first place, to act as a template. Also, him not moving too fast. If he did that, then there was no telling what might be broken in the woman’s mind. Even just turning up twice as smart one day might shatter her world.

  So, she needed to be more intelligent but not so much that she couldn’t credit it with just being about her getting off the booze and actually buckling down a bit in life. As a model for that, he had a lot of people. A good one would be Denise Tran, he figured. She was very bright and hardworking, so he could get that part from her as well. The biological bit that was separate from the orders he was going to be giving her.

  Troy distracted himself for a long time, coming up with what was going to be needed that way. Right up until someone knocked on his front door. He shook himself, since he hadn’t figured on a guest coming yet. More, the person ran off, right at the end of the second knock. He rushed the portal, moving far into pain, ready to chase them down.

  Except that when he got there, his doorstep was covered with blood. At the bottom of it, in a circle, was a person. A human, it looked like. More to the point, he recognized the kid. Clem, the drug dealer. His ex-drug dealer. Standing back, he focused his mind on the situation and could feel what was growing there. It was a different type of thing. The spirit of a place but powered into life on a level that meant he was, very possibly, about to die.

  It was a good trick. A clever plan that should have taken him out instantly. Troy felt his cells being eroded at the fringes, as he stood there. Dropping into the depths of his mind. Taking in power from the world. Using that to rebuild himself, not understanding what he was really doing. Calling on a part of himself that he’d forgotten even existed. That he’d made himself put aside, so he could be what he was at the moment.

 

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