Dark Whispers Sheridan and Cain 2009

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Dark Whispers Sheridan and Cain 2009 Page 11

by Unknown


  Dai jumped out and Lynch followed, for once keeping his damn mouth shut. The perp suddenly kicked open the bodega’s doors, and that was no fucking kitchen knife in his hand—it was a 9mm.

  “Shit!” Dai ducked behind the open driver’s door just as the fucker fired two rounds straight at them. He took a quick look to his right to check on Lynch--the man was alright, cowering behind the open passenger door and looking ready to piss himself.

  Dai shouted back to the perp. “Police! Don’t Move! Drop the goddamn gun!”

  The fucker shotagain!

  “Fuck!” Dai looked over the top of the door and aimed at the suspect, who was looking around in a wild-eyed panic. It was just a goddamn kid, probably high on crack and too desperate to even think straight. Dai didn’t want to put one through him if he didn’t have to.

  “Drop it!” he shouted again.

  The suspect pushed away from the door, dragging a hostage out with him. Susan.

  “You put the gun down or I blow this bitch away!” the kid screamed. He fired again, getting the car’s side mirror. The shattering glass scratched at Dai’s cheek.

  Dai turned to Lynch. “Get on the radio—tell them we need backup now!” Christ, but Lynch would not get off his ass! Dai stood, aimed at the kid over the car roof. “Let her go, man.”

  “The next one’s going in her head! I swear to God!” The perp sounded bad—to the point of cracking already.

  Susan made a move to her hidden holster and the kid jammed the gun barrel into her temple. “Stay still, bitch! Come on!”

  He started pulling her backward into the adjacent alley, firing a few more shots as he went. One grazed the car a few inches from Lynch’s leg and he yelped.

  “Useless fucker!” Dai growled as he dashed behind another car to follow after the crackhead.

  A shot rang out. Susan screamed and Dai ran for the alley. She was on the ground at the end of the long alley and the perp was kicking her as she reached for her gun.

  “Drop it, fucker, or die!”

  He shot at Dai. Dai shot back. The kid went down, dead with a bullet in his chest.

  Dai ran to Susan as other units and an ambulance sounded in the distance. Susan was shaken and bleeding from the nose. She clutched her ribs.

  “Officer down!” Dai shouted. His cry was drowned out by the blaring sirens of the arriving vehicles.

  “Hang on, baby,” he said, lifting Susan into his arms. A rage like he hadn’t felt in years—not since that fuck Chen was trying to kill his mom—filled Dai and he handed Susan off to the first paramedic on the scene then charged after Lynch who was on a stretcher already writhing and complaining about his fucking flesh wound.

  Dai snatched Lynch up by the shoulders and punched him dead in the face then snatched him up and hit him again. “You useless fucking coward!”

  It took four patrolmen to pull Dai away.

  “He just hit me!” Lynch clutched at his nose, blood squirting between his fingers.

  Dai pulled against the men holding him back and actually managed to drag them all forward a couple of feet. He wanted to keep hitting that useless fucker until his arm fell off, that’s how damned pissed he was.

  “Don’t go native on us, Matsui!” A big officer in uniform lifted him off the ground a few inches and pulled him away from the stretcher while the paramedics moved fast to get Lynch inside the ambulance. “Cool it!”

  “Get off me,” Dai growled.

  “Oh shit, we got cameras here already.” The officer let go of Dai. A news crew had just popped up out of fucking thin air, the camera man sweeping the scene and closing in on the ambulances. “How long have they been here?”

  Dai turned away and ran his hands through his hair. A paramedic came up to him.

  “Let me take a look at those cuts,” the man said, but Dai waved him away.

  “Forget it,” he said roughly. “Where’s the off-duty officer? She alright?”

  “We’re taking her to North Central.” The paramedic walked him to the ambulance. “You want to ride with her?”

  Dai climbed up into the back of the ambulance and the paramedic closed the double doors behind them, blocking out the media circus that was only just starting to gather in front of the bodega.

  “She gonna be okay?” Dai asked the EMT.

  “Looks good,” he said with a smile. He turned to Susan. “I’m guessing the ribs are bruised, not broken. The collar is just a precaution.”

  She reached out and Dai reluctantly took her hand. The last thing he wanted was her getting the wrong idea. Luckily his cell rang and he had to let go.

  It was McAfee. “Matsui, you get your ass back here forthwith!”

  “I’m riding to the hospital with Lenzer.”

  Mac growled and Dai realized he hadn’t experienced the man this pissed since Watts was killed while he was on vacation. “Just get your ass back here as soon as you can and don’t even look at a fucking reporter let alone talk to one. Or, God forbid, assault one!”

  “Fuck,” Dai mumbled, snapping the cell phone shut and shoving it back into his pocket. Christ, like he was the only one to take a shot at a fucking useless reporter after 9/11. What the fuck was he supposed to do when the asshole hounded him with ‘How do you feel?’ after a regular work shift then eight more hours helping to pick his way through rubble and body parts looking for his friends and others who’d gone missing?

  “What-what’s wrong, Dai?”

  “Nothing,” Dai said, taking Susan’s outstretched hand. “Just the usual job bullshit.”

  The bus pulled into the ER parking lot just before the second ambulance carrying Lynch did the same. Dai charged at the second ambulance.

  “You don’t deserve to be treated!” He kicked at the gurney. “Fucking East Cupcake coward!”

  Two uniformed cops held him back as the EMTs wheeled Lynch to the door.

  “You fucking make him wait. Lenzer gets in first!” Dai shook off the uniformed cops and headed into the ER, avoiding the glare of his superior who’d just arrived and was trying to hold off the TV news crew filming the entire thing.

  * * * * *

  Sakurai was stretched out across the bed, his feet propped up on the headboard. The television on top of the dresser droned on in the background and occasionally he’d tilt his head back to get an upside-down view of the screen. For the most part, nothing of what he saw – ‘human interest’ stories and other shit -- caught his fancy.

  But he was still tired and the noise from the television helped to drown out the annoying voices of the building’s other tenants as they scurried about their pointless lives. He should’ve brought updai-dai’s speaker system while he was at it. Then again, the 36-inch screen barely fit on the dresser as is, so he would’ve had to take the TV table, also.

  Sakurai laughed and lazily scratched behind sayuri’s ear. The cat was curled up on his bare chest, a purring ball of fur that would occasionally stretch out its claws and dig them affectionately into the skin above Sakurai’s breast. Daisuke hadn’t even noticed the television had been missing this morning. Of course, the ‘gift’ Sakurai left him in return had really impressed the young man.

  From up here, Sakurai could sense Daisuke’s shock and arousal. It had made the chiang shih’s skin vibrate with the erotic energy that passed between them in that moment. He’d have to thank Shu one of these days—the other vampire’shentai fascination with sharing ‘fluids’ as gifts was so clever, after all. Gods, how quickly Dai had bonded! Very unexpected, considering the boy was only a mortal.

  A news flash interrupted the game show on the TV, and as the reporter cut to a news clip taken only a few moments ago, Sakurai caught Dai’s name being mentioned. He shoved the cat off and rolled onto his stomach, suddenly very interested.

  “Allegations are being made against Detective Daisuke Matsui, an eleven year veteran of the NYPD, for use of excessive force and misconduct following a shoot-out in the Bronx that resulted in two officers being injured. The as-of-yet
unnamed suspect was fatally wounded.” The scene on the television flashed to some footage of a black body bag being transported into the coroner’s vehicle and then cut to the ambulances parked in front of the mini-market where the scene had played out. Sakurai smirked as he pictured Daisuke standing up against the ‘suspect’, pulling the trigger to take the other’s life as his own hung in peril. How sexy.

  And things got better yet.

  “Only moments ago, Matsui lashed out against another detective without any clear motive,” the reporter said, sounding as indignant to Sakurai as if he’d been the one hit. They flashed up a long clip of Dai lunging at man on a stretcher, smashing his fist into the man’s face a good four times or so before other cops pulled Dai away. Sakurai frowned at the screen and the images of those meddling patrol officers. Then the news did a nice close-up on the injured detective’s face, which was bleeding freely from his nose and a cut on his lip.

  “Oh, Dai.” Sakurai laughed and clapped his hands. “You do like to play rough, don’t you?”

  A reporter, live on the scene, came into view. “We’ve just learned that Detective Lynch from the Oswego Police Department will be filing aggravated assault charges against Matsui.” She spoke into the microphone and arched one of her beauty-parlorperfect eyebrows at the camera. “Still no word on what could’ve happened to push one of New York’s finest over the edge like this.”

  Sakurai had a near-giddy moment as he considered what role he might’ve played in Daisuke’s outburst. Though if there were a connection, he should’ve been able to sense something, unless he was still too drained.

  “Fucking sun, go away.” He clicked off the television and glared at the edge of the dark curtains where he could see a few golden rays peeking through. He didn’t trust himself to handle the daylight, not until he’d fed well and no one in this building offered the kind of sustenance he needed. Except fordai-dai . . . and Sakurai couldn’t kill him just yet only to satisfy the thirst, not when for the first time inyears he’d found a mortal worth enjoying for a while.

  Dark Whispers Sheridan and Cain 2009

  Chapter Nine

  Dale McAfee paced his office and tore his fingers through his graying, ash-brown hair. “Goddammit, Daiskue. You’re one of the best men I have. I can’t afford to lose you over stupid shit like this! Back when Watts and I worked the streets the lines at roll call were four and five deep. Now I’m fucking lucky if I get a row and a half on each shift! You know as well as I do that some days we’re lucky to have three patrols car riding the precinct. We don’t need you off the streets, too, but if you’re gonna do stupid shit like you pulled with Lynch—in front of the goddamned news people yet—I have no choice but to pull you.”

  McAfee paused and tugged down the window shade in his office to block Dai from giving the battered and bandaged Lynch the evil eye. “I need your shield and your weapon. Now. You have thirty days to cool off and I hope to hell that’s all that comes from this. That little shit wants you to go to trial but under the circumstances we should be able to work something else out.”

  Dai stood, his face a stone mask of disgust as he pulled out his shield and department-issued Glock. He dropped them on the desk and turned toward the door.

  “If it was me, kid, I’d give you a fucking day off with pay and a gold star for your forehead but you know how the mice down at the Puzzle Palace are—it’s all about the politics.”

  Dai’s reply was an icy glare.

  “I hear Susy Q is gonna be okay, though, nothing broken that some time off can’t fix. And maybe some personal male nursing care?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “She’s good people, Dai. I knew her dad, her uncle and her brother, all top of the line cops. You could do much worse.”

  “I’m not interested in her that way.”

  McAfee sighed. “Whatever, kid. Just keep your nose clean the next thirty days and please stay away from the public eye. Please.”

  Dai stormed out of the office, slamming the door closed behind him. He understood that Mac had a job to do, butthirty fucking days? The walls in the boss’ office weren’t spectacularly sound-proof either, so from the look on Lynch’s face Dai knew the prick must’ve heard most of what was said.

  “Fuck off, asshole,” Dai snapped at the detective who was sitting at the desk next to Mac’s office. Lynch actually flinched, the useless dick.

  “Watch it, Matsui. Unless you’re gunning for a longer ride on the pine pony.” Allen was sitting on the edge of a nearby desk, a cup of coffee in hand and a smug grin on his lips. “I think you need a more permanent ‘vacation’, too.”

  That was such an obvious attempt to get on his nerves—Dai refused to bite. He walked up to his own desk and took his jacket in silence, ignoring the urge to give Allen the finger.

  Allen just laughed. “That’s it, Matsui. Kiss my ass, and love it.”

  Dai glared at him over his shoulder. “Lynch’s lips are already all over it, shithead. The two of you should go get a room.”

  The rest of the cops who’d been milling around burst out into laughter and Allen’s face turned a bright crimson. Too pissed off to laugh himself, Dai shrugged into his jacket and left.

  Striding to his car, Dai slowed as his anger faded and he realized that Allen, the little fucker, was far from his own precinct. He wondered if it had something to do with the little EDP at the club who’d offed himself. Shit. He couldn’t go back in and ask around, either. Still, since he had a long, unpaid vacation he could probably find something out.

  * * * * *

  This deep below the club, the only sources of light were the austere fluorescent lamps that hung from the bolts in the ceiling and made every color in the room look a washed out green. Except for blood, of course. That deep a shade of crimson couldn’t be dulled by the lamps, especially when it sat upon a snow white porcelain plate. Yun walked up to the table. Mikail sat at the head in a high-backed chair just large enough to fit his wide frame. The bald man was licking his fingers clean.

  With a snarl, Yun dropped a black plastic garbage bag on the table before the other vampire. The dishes clattered in place.

  “What’s this?” Mikail asked, his thumb still stuck in the corner of his red-stained mouth.

  “Take a look.” Yun glared.

  Mikail reluctantly pulled his finger out of his mouth and tugged open the ties around the bag. His face twisted into a grimace.

  “You were supposed to bring him back for the Mistress to deal with.” He overturned the bag and dumped out the pulpy remains of a heart that had been ripped out of its host’s body.

  “The idiot started lapping up blood right in front of everyone.” Yun knocked the shredded organ off the table in disgust. “The Mistress doesn’t have to concern herself with this shit.”

  Quick to agree, Mikail nodded fervently. “So true, so true.” He returned to dipping his stubby fingers with their painted nails into the pool of blood on the plate in front of him.

  “You should be the one worrying about this!” Yun shouted and Mikail looked up sharply. “You’re supposed to make sure the new ones stay out of sight or at least control themselves!”

  Mikail clawed nervously at the front of his red jumpsuit.

  “In case you don’t recall, we werebusy,” he hissed, “with a certain uninvited visitor! Someoneyou should’ve handled!”

  Yun leaned on the table, his nails scratching at the wood finish. “Jung Kai is such a damned coward--involving the likes of him to save his own hide.”

  Mikail pointed a finger in Yun’s face. “How quick you are to try and save face!” he snorted. “One hand washes the other, but here you come and try to say I don’t fulfill my purpose.”

  “Then where isSakurai’s bleeding heart?” Yun roared, picking the bloody organ off the floor and throwing it at Mikail’s chest. “Why don’t you show that to me?”

  Mikail wiped off the sloppy mess with his bare hands. “There’s time for that, my friend, when the Mis
tress says so. He’s an Ancient one, but not an invincible one.”

  Unsatisfied, Yun grabbed one of the table’s empty chairs and straddled the seat.

  “He should mind his own affairs,” Yun grumbled. “He murdered two of my little ones! Since when has he given a shit what happens outside of his own territory?”

  “What territory?” Mikail shrugged. “Mistress thought he died before the Second War, but here he is.”

  Now Yun snorted. “Not for long. We’ll send him back to hell if he doesn’t mind his own business.”

  Mikail nodded in silent agreement. “At least the night wasn’t a total waste,” he said, licking his fingers again. “Wei Chen’s brother looks fine, doesn’t he?”

  Yun’s scowl softened considerably. That was one good thing to come from last night, at least. “Actually, he does,” Yun’s lips curled into a smile. “Daisuke has potential. In many ways.”

  “I thought you would agree,” Mikail chortled. “I could find many uses for him aside from being another ‘human liaison’.”

  “Oh yes.” Yun laughed then grew dead serious. “Just one thing—no one touches him, but me.”

  “No, no! Of course not.” Mikail shook his head. “If the Mistress says you can have him.”

  “Yes,” Yun muttered.

  A strained silence fell between the two vampires. Mikail pushed his plate of blood over to Yun. “I don’t know if you saw the news today, but Daisuke had quite an exciting adventure.”

  “Oh?”

  Mikail reached for the side of the chair and pulled out a remote control. The flat screen televisions lining the wall across from the table flicked on and a news clip played. As Yun watched the story of the shoot-out, he laughed and stroked his chin.

  “He’s a good one.” Yun smiled.

  “After this, Wei Chan should have no trouble bringing him into the fold.” Mikail smacked his lips together approvingly.

  “If not . . . .” Yun cackled softly. “I’ll convince him.”

  * * * * *

  Dai stopped off at the liquor store on the way home to buy two bottles of red wine and a bottle of sake. Maybe the thirty days would pass faster if he just got hammered and passed out often.

 

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