The Prescient: A Science Fiction Vampire Detective Novel (Vampire Detective Midnight Book 3)

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The Prescient: A Science Fiction Vampire Detective Novel (Vampire Detective Midnight Book 3) Page 29

by JC Andrijeski


  “You didn’t see what I just saw,” Nick growled back, his voice low.

  His eyes never left the other vampire’s face.

  “…Where is it, Straven?” he said. “Tell me. Now. Or I’ll bite you in a way you won’t like nearly as much.”

  The androgynous vampire looked at him, blinking those wide, enhanced eyes.

  Fear lived there, but Nick also saw something else.

  Relief.

  Some part of the vampire wanted to tell him. Some part of Straven actually wanted Nick’s help, maybe because they knew they’d likely die without it.

  “I have it,” Straven said, soft.

  From across the table, Nick saw the two lawyers flinch, and turned his head.

  Both Theodore and Reginald were staring at Straven’s face, their expressions belying not only their interest, but their shock at Straven’s words.

  “Right now?” Reginald hissed in disbelief. “In here? Are you out of your damned—”

  “Shut up,” Nick said, silencing them both with a look. “Shut the fuck up. Now.”

  Both humans closed their mouths.

  Their instant obedience might have been comical, under different circumstances.

  Now all it did was annoy Nick more.

  He turned back to Straven, his jaw hard.

  “Where did you get it?” he said. “You didn’t have this ‘developed,’ did you? You stole it. You or your pal Silverton… or both of you.”

  Straven grew paler somehow, looking up at Nick, their lipsticked mouth slack.

  When Nick shook the androgynous vampire by the wrist where he still held them, the vampire blinked, grimacing in what almost looked like pain.

  “Yes,” they said with a gasp. “Yes… we stole it. Abe stole it.”

  “From who?” Nick growled. “The Russians?”

  There was a silence.

  Then Straven nodded, jerking their head up and down. Again, they looked like they might be on the verge of getting sick. If they’d been human, Nick would have thought they were getting ready to throw up.

  “Yes,” Straven said. “Yes. He had a contract with them… Abe. They showed him the device. Told him they’d developed it from studying vampire venom, that it emitted electromagnetic waves that mimicked the brain patterns that vampire venom caused in humans. It did the same thing to human minds, only worse. It was a lot stronger than venom—”

  “Why the fuck didn’t you just give it back to them?” Nick growled. “Why try to steal it from Silverton?”

  Straven paled more.

  They stared up at Nick’s face, unmoving, until Nick shook them again.

  “Abe wouldn’t,” Straven said, gasping. “He wouldn’t give it back.”

  “So you had him killed?” Nick growled.

  “No! No! That was an accident!” Straven protested. “I wanted his chip back! I promised the Russians I’d get it back for them. They said if I didn’t, I was dead. That they’d destroy me, destroy my career… kill everyone I knew, starting with all of my friends.”

  Tears came to the vampire’s eyes.

  “They said they’d keep me alive for years, if I didn’t do exactly what they said. They said they’d hack me apart, bit by bit. Experiment on me.”

  Nick scowled. “So you killed your best friend.”

  “It was an accident!” Straven wailed. “I was trying to keep him alive! I hired that extraction team to get the prototype, and Abe’s bio-scans so I could give the Russians access to his private lab. They wanted to make sure Abe hadn’t already started replicating the tech—”

  Nick scowled. “But you had your own copy. Of the prototype.”

  Hesitating, Straven nodded. “It was supposed to be insurance.”

  “Insurance.” Nick grunted. “You were going to sell it.”

  “Out of patriotism!” Straven protested, looking up with wide eyes.

  At Nick’s disbelieving laugh, Straven grabbed his arm.

  “They were going to use it against humans in our protected areas, Nick! They were going to use it against our humans! I simply wanted to give them some way to fight back!”

  “Were they military?” Nick said. “These Russians? Or dark market?”

  Straven hesitated, then closed their mouth, their expression reluctant.

  Reading the answer there, Nick grunted in disbelief.

  “So you and your pal Abe stole illegal, dark tech from the Russian mob.” Nick let out a disbelieving laugh. “Fucking geniuses.”

  “I was going to give it to someone in our human military here!”

  “You were going to sell it to them, you mean.”

  “Well… why shouldn’t I get something out of it? They threatened my life!”

  Nick’s jaw clenched as he looked away, shaking his head.

  Remembering the image of the humans undressing in that green and white lab, the blank looks on their faces, his anger worsened, making it hard not to strike the other vampire.

  Releasing Straven’s arm, he scowled.

  “Fuck,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

  “I don’t know how they figured it out,” Straven whimpered. “I don’t know how they learned I had my own copy. I was so careful. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell a single—”

  “You tried to sell it, you moron,” Nick snapped.

  “Only to the military! Only to our people!”

  “You can’t possibly be this stupid,” Nick growled. “Did you really think it wouldn’t get out, what you had? The mob has people in our human government, Straven… just like we have people in theirs. Are you really that naïve? Of course they would find out. Do you have any idea what this tech could do, if either side had it? Much less if both sides had it?”

  Wynter was looking between the two of them now, a disbelieving look on her face.

  “Jesus,” she muttered.

  Nick scowled only at Straven.

  “You might have just started the next war, you asshole,” he growled. “I guess not enough people died in the last one for you? You had to make a few bucks, selling deadly tech to more humans?”

  When Straven only stared at him blankly, Nick sharpened his voice.

  “What do you think the Russians will do, now that they think the American humans might move against them, using similar tech?”

  “But they already had it,” Straven protested. “They already had it! It was only right that our side have it, too!”

  Nick glared at him, fighting the impulse to wring the other vampire’s neck. In the end, he forced himself to look away, folding his arms and sinking deeper into the low couch.

  “Fuck,” he said again. “I’m going to have to call someone.”

  “White Death,” Straven burst out, leaning towards him and clasping Nick’s arm.

  From the way the other vampire said it, a light bulb went off in Nick’s mind.

  Suddenly, he understood the real reason Straven had been so desperate to see him, why they wouldn’t take no for an answer in seeing him that very night.

  Straven was looking for a ticket out.

  They were looking for protection—protection they no longer believed humans could provide.

  They were looking to disappear.

  “Jesus Christ.” Nick stared at him in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “You’re connected with them… right?” Straven’s voice turned wheedling once more. “You ran with them once. You wear their mark! I checked into it… that’s not only a gimmick for the fights. You were with them. You know their king—”

  “No,” Nick growled, glaring at them. “Absolutely not.”

  “I can pay you,” Straven offered, gripping Nick’s arm stubbornly when Nick tried to extricate it. “I can pay you a lot… millions. Millions, Detective Tanaka. Enough that you’d never have to work again. You’d never have to fight. Or work as a Midnight. You can keep your mate safe…”

  At Nick’s hard glare, Straven tried again.

  “I’ll give you on
e of my buildings! How’s that for a prize? I’ll sign one over to you. Tonight, if you want. Any one you like!”

  “No,” Nick said, still glaring at them.

  He looked at Wynter, watching her eyes study Straven’s face.

  It occurred to Nick that everyone else in the private room was staring at them now, too, including the two vampires on the other side of the table, their live feeds, the two human groupies, and the lawyers, who sat directly across from them.

  Guess the secret was out.

  “You’ll be lucky to get out of this building alive,” Nick growled, looking back at Straven. “If you do, jail will be the least of your problems, Straven—”

  “I’ll tell them,” the vampire said, their voice suddenly cold. “I’ll tell them, Detective. What we talked about earlier… I’ll tell them.”

  Nick turned his head.

  Seeing the androgynous vampire’s eyes give a bare flicker towards Wynter, seeing the meaningful look in those enhanced irises with the blue-green veins, Nick felt his whole body tense.

  His eyes met the other’s, and something in them caused Straven to flinch.

  “You do that,” Nick said, his voice cold. “You even think that again, Straven… and you’re definitely not leaving this building alive.”

  Straven opened their mouth, as if to protest.

  Then, when Nick’s eyes narrowed, they closed it again, nodding.

  Chapter 21

  What Are You Doing Here?

  In the end, Nick called Jordan.

  He wavered between him, Morley, St. Maarten, Kit… Gertrude, the A.I.

  He even considered calling Brick for a handful of seconds, like Straven wanted.

  Not for the money.

  Nick didn’t give a shit about the money, and he certainly didn’t need to own a building in Midtown with some kind of Egyptian god squatting in the lobby. Even as a human, Nick never cared much about money in that way, and he certainly never would have left the White Death if money was a big motivator for him as a vampire.

  Anyway, he was fighting now.

  He already made good money.

  Truthfully, Nick made more money than he felt comfortable spending, so he likely didn’t need to worry about that much in his immediate future… not unless his tastes changed a lot in the coming years.

  No, he was tempted to call Brick mostly because of Straven themself.

  A part of Nick thought it would serve the fucker right if he gave Straven what they wanted, and sold them to the White Death.

  In the end, though, he called Jordan.

  Once he reached him, he told Jordan to put Morley on the line, too.

  Only when he had the two of them there, in the virtual space, did he launch into telling them everything that happened.

  He told them about visiting Brick.

  He told them about biting Straven.

  He told them more or less everything he’d learned, every word that had been exchanged… at least those that didn’t pertain to Wynter.

  When he finished talking, there was a silence.

  When neither of the human detectives spoke into that silence, Nick cleared his throat.

  When they still didn’t speak, he asked them what he should do.

  “Wait there,” Morley said after a beat, his voice stern. “Don’t go anywhere, Midnight… and don’t let that piece of shit go anywhere, either.”

  Nick nodded, relieved. “Okay—”

  “Unbelievable,” Jordan muttered, his virtual image glancing at Morley’s with a frown. “All this time, he knew exactly what this was about. He knew who was after him, and why. He knew exactly what they wanted—”

  “They,” Nick said.

  He didn’t know why he said it.

  Well, maybe he did.

  He really just said it to annoy Jordan.

  And maybe just to blow off some steam.

  He was rewarded with a scowl from the human detective, right before those dark eyes shifted in Nick’s direction. Nick grinned a little, in spite of himself, then turned to Morley in the virtual space.

  “Straven’s been in contact with someone in the military,” he reminded them, his voice back to businesslike. “I don’t have a name, but someone should contact Home-Sec, and let I.S.F. know. They likely have a mole in their department. Someone either from the Russian military, or their underground crime syndicate… or both. From what Straven said, the Russians knew within hours that Straven possessed another copy of the prototype. Right after Straven reached out to try and sell the tech to the U.S. military, the Russians accused them of lying and double-dealing—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Morley said, annoyed. “I know. I have a feeling every damned agency operating in the United States Protected Areas is going to want a piece of this asshole.”

  Nick nodded, glancing around the bar, scanning faces.

  Seeing one he recognized by the door, he flinched.

  Then he frowned.

  The tall figure saw him in the same instant, and immediately began walking in Nick’s direction.

  “I better go,” Nick said into the headset, watching the black-haired figure approach. “I want to keep an eye on Straven, in case they try to bolt.”

  “They’re not with you?” Morley said, alarmed. “Straven?”

  “They’re here,” Nick assured the detective. “I’m blocking the door, and I can see them right now. I just don’t trust them.”

  Muttering, he added,

  “They’re also high as a kite, scared out of their fucking mind, and keep begging me to call the White Death to disappear them before the Russians can find them. They’ve already offered me almost a billion credits, if I’ll just make the call—”

  Morley whistled, shaking his head.

  Then, the older human chuckled, shaking his salt-and-pepper-haired head.

  “What?” Nick grunted. “What’s funny now?”

  “You,” Morley said at once. “You really are a boy scout, Tanaka.”

  Thinking about that, about his sire, Brick, about everything that had happened over the past two days, Nick grunted.

  “Sure,” he said. “That’s me. Squeaky clean.”

  Morley didn’t laugh with him.

  “You think I’m kidding, but I’m not,” the human said. “It’s funny because it’s true.” Pausing, the senior detective added, “How the seven hells were you ever a part of the White Death? Seriously. One of these days I’m going to have to get you drunk enough to tell me the truth of that story. And I do mean the truth… not the bullshit that’s in your I.S.F. file.”

  “There isn’t enough alcohol in the world, sir,” Nick muttered.

  There was another silence.

  Then Morley burst out in another laugh.

  That time, Jordan laughed, too.

  Nick watched the two humans exchange knowing smiles and share incredulous looks, and wished he could laugh with them.

  Somehow, though, that time, he just couldn’t.

  Maybe seeing Brick that night made the prospect of describing his past to anyone—much less to his still relatively-new, two human friends, who were both a lot more boy scout-y than either of them seemed to realize—a lot less humorous than otherwise.

  Nick felt the air shift next to him and turned.

  The tall, black-haired male who Nick had seen enter through the bar’s front door a few seconds earlier now stood directly behind him, his long, angular face utterly expressionless. Nick glanced up at that face, noting the flat, indifferent look there, and frowned, right before he looked down at the long arms and hands that rested easily at the seer’s sides.

  “I have to go,” Nick said. “Hurry up. Before I end up in another bombing. My limit is one per day…” He checked the timepiece inside his headset, and saw it was almost midnight. “You’ve got four minutes. Or all bets are off.”

  Morley snorted a laugh.

  Before either of them could speak, Nick terminated the connection.

  As soon as he had, he found hi
mself wishing he hadn’t joked about bombs… or about the four minutes.

  Nothing like jinxing himself and Wynter for no good goddamned reason.

  He stared up at the mismatched eyes of the tall seer who stood in front of him.

  Malek’s expression now reflected a barely-discernible patience.

  It hit Nick that he’d forgotten to ask Jordan about that painting.

  He’d also forgotten to look at the painting again himself.

  “Hey,” he said, gruff.

  Nick glanced over his shoulder, finding Straven with his eyes before looking back at Malek’s specter-like form.

  “What are you doing here?” he said.

  When Malek didn’t answer, Nick looked past the tall seer, scanning for other faces he might recognize in the crowded bar.

  “Did St. Maarten send you?” he said, looking back up at Malek’s different-colored eyes. “Is Archangel here?”

  Grunting a little, he added, “Knowing you guys, you sit around on police scanners to swoop in before the real cops can get here.”

  Malek blinked his mismatched eyes.

  The dark one of those irises always struck Nick as more intense, even borderline aggressive, compared to the other. The pale blue iris, the one so light it shone nearly an opaque white, struck Nick as the more otherworldly of the two—like that was the eye that watched the future happen on some distant television screen or canvas.

  Or perhaps projected onto a brick wall.

  “Is Archangel here?” Nick repeated, refocusing on Malek’s face when the seer didn’t answer him. “Are you about to tell me something that’s going to scare the shit out of me? Am I going to die? Is the building about to blow up?”

  “No,” Malek said simply.

  Nick waited for him to elaborate.

  He didn’t.

  After a few beats, Nick sighed.

  “Okay,” he said, exhaling again. “What are you doing here, big guy?”

  When the seer didn’t answer, Nick stared warily up at his face, trying to read the expression there. Glancing back over his shoulder, he met Wynter’s gaze and frowned, realizing she’d taken it upon herself to guard Straven.

  Straven knew about Wynter.

 

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