Blood And Stone: A Novel in The Atalante Chronicles

by Nicholas W King

  Blackwell sat on the back bumper of the ambulance. She’d been shooing away EMTs like they were mosquitos after they’d bandaged her wounds. Lester went to her first. He was wearing an HCSO windbreaker and blue jeans. A Buccaneers t-shirt peeked out from underneath the jacket. Blackwell could barely look at me for more than a second or two. Lester pointed at her shoulder and she nodded.

  When he approached me and the other deputies, his deep voice had the air of absolute authority. “Gentlemen, let me speak with him. I’ll take it from here.”

  The two deputies were not pleased, but they recognized Marks. Our bust of the ghoul nest had made his name in the department. Only Blackwell and I now knew how much of a price Marks paid for that notoriety. They left, giving me the standard warning not to leave Tampa.

  Lester stared hard at me. I felt like a disobedient child caught after curfew.

  “Slowly break her in,” he said. “Slowly. A drive-by is not slow.”

  I stopped myself from making a remark. This was not the time. “How bad she hurt?” I asked.

  “Bullet nicked her neck,” said Marks. “Another one clipped the top of her shoulder. A few staples and she’ll be fine.” He placed his hands on his hips and paced back and forth a bit. “She’s got internal bruising and two cracked ribs.”

  “My shielding spell helped, then,” I said, breathing easier.

  “What?”

  “Gunman had us dead, Lester. I threw up a shielding spell. I told her to get behind me.” I sat down on the sidewalk. My eyes wandered to the burial mound of the vampire who’d attacked us. It remained undisturbed.

  The sergeant followed my gaze. “You hiding something, Nico?”

  I nodded. “A wounded vampire. He’s leverage.”

  “Leverage for what?” I could see Lester trying to work the angles in his head.

  “Answers. Manuel stonewalled us.”

  Lester looked back at the ambulance. Blackwell protested, but they finally got her strapped to the gurney for a trip to the hospital. “My deputy’s out for tonight,” he said. “They’ll take her for observation.”

  “Good,” I said. “Then we wait for everyone to leave.”

  We watched a tow truck arrive and haul away the totaled panel van. The road beyond the railroad tracks was unpaved dirt.

  “They’re gonna have to repave 21st,” observed Lester. I could see a hint of a smile.

  “Not necessarily,” I said. A few deputies were milling around the column. Despite my fatigue, I reached out with my other senses, feeling for the connection to the magic I’d worked. There was a hum of fluctuating energy surrounding the makeshift stone barrier. I tapped into that subtle remainder, picturing in my head the asphalt returning to normal road.

  “Retexo,” I whispered, redirecting the remnants of energy in a different direction. As if composed of wet cement, the column flowed down and out, returning to cover the ground. It was uneven in several places, but the street was more or less the same.

  The deputies in the immediate vicinity began freaking out. Lester fought hard not to laugh.

  “I think I have a future in public works,” I said.

  Lester only shook his head. He gave me a questioning expression.

  “What magic creates, it can unmake,” I said. “My power made the column. It also unmade it.”

  “Handy trick.”

  “It has its moments. It doesn’t work on everything, though.”

  “What’s the next step?” he asked.

  “We wait.”

  We waited two hours for everyone to disperse. Marks checked out my wounded arm. It was only a serious bruise, no broken bones. I’d neglected to mention it to the deputies or the EMTs. Blackwell needed the attention more than I did. The deputies who’d been grilling me made sure to remind me I needed to come in for formal questioning. Lester assured them he’d make certain I did.

  After bringing his metallic green SUV around, Lester rolled down a window and looked to me for instructions.

  “Bring her close and open the trunk,” I said as I walked over to the burial mound.

  The dirt mound had shifted but was still in place. Moving five feet of compact earth would have been easy for a vampire at peak strength. With only one arm and heavily injured, the vamp couldn’t manage it. I waited for Lester to pull up, park, and then open the back. “Grab a heavy flash light,” I said.

  “What for?” he asked, pointing to the street lamps.

  “He might be awake,” I said.

  Marks’ face lost some color. “He’s been wounded pretty badly,” I said, waving him over. “Jagged ice tends to do that.”

  The sergeant gave me an incredulous stare, but walked over anyway.

  I held my cane up at chest height. Reaching out for the spell I’d used to bury the vamp, I found a small amount remained. Siphoning some off, I whispered, ”Retexo.”

  The burial earth shifted. The vampire rose up as the ground settled back underneath him. The ice shards had melted, leaving his clothes and wounds caked in dried mud. The gash in his neck was filled with grime. I could still make out a sliver of his trachea through the dirt.

  “Are you gonna be trouble?” I asked, my voice barely audible. I could feel Lester’s presence behind me to my left. Anticipation came off him like sparks.

  The vampire’s head stirred. I didn’t bother waiting for more. I slammed the end of my cane into the gaping hole in his chest.

  Already damaged bone snapped. The vampire lurched up, snarling in pain. Lester barely hesitated, bringing the heavy flashlight down like a thunderbolt. The vamp’s skull cracked and the monster collapsed back to the ground. I pulled the cane free and jammed it back into the prone vampire’s chest again. A squishy sound brought a satisfied grunt from my throat. The impromptu staking made the vampire’s body go rigid.

  “You kill him?” asked Marks, his heavy Maglite ready to come down again.

  I shook my head and motioned for him to grab the legs. With some effort we got the vamp into the trunk on his side. Lester grabbed a blanket from inside and covered the body as best as he could.

  “Wooden stakes to the heart paralyze vamps,” I said as we got into the SUV. “Killing them requires more.”

  “Like what?”

  “Fire’s the best weapon. Extreme physical trauma works as well.” My words rolled off my tongue slower than usual. “We need to stop at my place.”

  “I’m not driving all over Tampa with a staked vampire in my trunk,” said Lester.

  “Not all over. Just two stops. I need something from my place.”

  “What’s the second?” he asked.

  “We also need some answers from the Lord of Tampa.”

  Chapter 8

  I slept a bit on the drive to my place. It didn’t help that Lester liked the same smooth jazz station Blackwell preferred. When we pulled into my place, I woke up, gathered what I would need, and we left.

  “Where to?” asked Lester. His knuckles were white on the wheel.

  I gave him the address. Lester stared at me like I’d grown wings and horns. He started driving nonetheless. The streets were already empty, which was pretty normal as you get close to midnight. Tampa’s a day-time city, save for Ybor and the clubs. When midnight rolls around you get a few stragglers here and there but no major traffic. It was an easy ride to Davis Islands.

  Davis Islands are known for two things. The first is that the neighborhood’s the home of Tampa General Hospital, one of the largest in the city. I’ve had to spend many nights in the E.R. there over the last 10 years. I wondered, as we drove by, if Lester or Angela would end up there before this case ended. A helicopter whirred overhead and landed on the opposite side of the hospital as we crossed the bridge.

  The other thing the Islands are known for is money. Some of the people living out here are among the wealthiest in the city. Several sports figures spend their off-seasons here. More than a few of Tampa’s social and political elites call the Islands home.

  And the v
ampires, naturally, can be found here. People on the Islands like their privacy and keep to themselves. Manuel and the other members of the Conclave had bought up some real estate here years ago. Not all of them lived on the Islands, mind you. Vampires tend to avoid congregating in the same living area. My guess is they learned that particular lesson the hard way. The homes they purchased were mostly fronts for some of their shadier dealings, some of these also serving as safe houses.

  The furthest corner of the island was our destination. As we drove further away from the hospital the houses became more expansive, the lawns more elaborately manicured, and the cars cleaner and more recently made. By comparison, my two-story building looked like a shack. Maybe one day, I could retire here.

  After that, I’d turn the moon into Swiss Cheese.

  When we pulled up to the palatial estate, I was struck by how well-maintained Manuel kept the house. Lord Vega had purchased a bright beige, two-story Mediterranean-style home. The extended driveway was filled with dark SUVs and Land Rovers. The house itself was a good five hundred feet back from the street. Groups of trimmed bushes lined both sides of the property, rising to just over six feet in height.

  “We’re in a bad place,” said Lester. I looked at him just in time to see a cold shiver go through his arms. “Can’t shake this feeling in my gut.”

  “Same one you had before the ghoul nest?”

  The Sheriff’s Deputy nodded.

  “You feel like running, don’t you?” I asked as I turned back to look at the house. “That happens when you’re surrounded by predators.”

  “Surrounded?” he said. I could sense Lester was scanning the block, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He wouldn’t see anything.

  I scanned the houses around Manuel’s as well, just to be safe. All of them had their lights on, but it was obvious no one was moving about in them. Lester turned off the car and popped the trunk. As we exited the car, a trio of dark-suited men started walking toward us.

  “Get your badge out,” I said when I joined Lester at the rear of his SUV. I pulled out an amethyst crystal from one of my jacket pockets and started turning it in my hands. Unfortunately for Lester, I didn’t have any more bottles of anti-venom. “You have anything larger than your Glock?”

  “Move the vamp,” he said in reply. Lester looked over me and saw the advancing trio. We pulled the vamp out quickly and sat him up on the lip of the trunk. I held him steady, the end of my cane resting on my shoulder. The three guards were halfway to us when they paused, no doubt trying to determine what we were removing from the SUV. The staked vampire and I blocked Lester from view.

  Lester pulled a panel off the floor of his car. In the depression was a small cache of weapons. A pair of Remington 870 MCS shotguns with shortened barrels, a Desert Eagle .50 caliber handgun, an MP5 sub-machine gun, and several boxes of shells waited inside. There were also spare magazines, some of them loaded.

  “John McClane ain’t got shit on you,” I said, whistling. I rolled the crystal in my hand and took a quick glance at the stone. A slow pulse of light was buried in the center of the purple stone.

  “That gonna stop them?” asked Marks. He pulled out one of the shotguns and pushed off the safety.

  “I’ll get some of my mojo back,” I said, closing my hand around the stone. “Solvo.”

  The magical energy I’d stored in the crystal entered my body like a surge of electricity. I concentrated on holding the power within me rather than simply channeling it to create a spell. My heart started beating faster. The fatigue I’d been experiencing since the drive-by vanished. Lester raised his eyebrows as he saw my posture change. I could tell he was feeling more confident now that I was recharged. I didn’t have the heart to tell him the power wouldn’t last.

  “I’ll explain later,” I said. The three vampiric security guards closed the distance. “Just follow my lead.”

  Marks and I propped the staked vampire against the car and closed the trunk. I held the torpid monster against the SUV and said, “Get your keys. When they get closer, turn on the alarm.”

  Lester nodded. When the guards were ten feet from us, he pressed the panic button on his key fob. The blaring alarm startled the vamps, throwing off their stern game faces. I couldn’t help but smile. The vamps looked from me to the large shaft of wood sticking out of the chest of our captive. They all started hissing.

  “Who’s in charge?” I asked.

  “Me,” said the one in the middle. He took a few steps forward. He was lean and wiry, built like a middleweight boxer. Calm black and red eyes studied me. Three red teardrops were tattooed under his left eye. His face was lean, with cheekbones that could cut a fist. He kept his head shaved.

  “Your name?” I asked.

  “Marco.”

  “I’m Nicodemus Atalante. You know who I am?”

  Marco smiled and said, “Maricón.”

  I placed a hand on my cane and let just enough power into it to bring the sigils to light. “That isn’t very nice. I have something of yours. Take us to Lord Vega.”

  The smile on Marco’s face became a murderous scowl. He sniffed the air a few times before turning his gaze to Lester. “He’s mortal.”

  Without missing a beat, Lester levelled the shotgun at the trio. “I’ll manage.”

  “Take us to Lord Vega now,” I ordered.

  They led us into the house. Two of the guards carried the staked vampire while Marco led the way. “Interesting tattoos,” I said when we reached the front door. “What’re they for?”

  “For people I’ve killed,” he replied. Admitting to murder in front of a cop didn’t seem to faze him.

  The inside of Manuel’s house had a modern feel to it, with rich furniture and decorations. I noted that nothing in the foyer was made of wood. I guessed there wouldn’t be a single piece of furniture in the house that could be used as a stake. The lights were kept dim, making the room, and from what I could see, the rest of the house completely unwelcoming.

  Marco motioned for us to head in before him. I returned the motion to gesture that he take the lead. I’d be a fool to put him at my back, regardless of any agreements our two supernatural factions have. Marco grunted but led us to the dining room. Seated at a massive wrought metal table was the Conclave. Fourteen vampires of both great age and advanced station, gathered in one place, is a disconcerting sight. I felt the primitive parts of my brain scream at me to flee. In that moment I think I understood how the Christians must have felt when they were thrown to the lions.

  At the head of the table sat Manuel. He had changed into a black business suit with a red undershirt and no tie. His face held that calm I’ve almost always seen, but his eyes were filled with quiet fury. If this went bad, Lester and I would not leave alive.

  “Nicodemus,” said Vega.

  “Lord Vega,” I replied, bowing my head. I looked to Marks and motioned for him to mimic me. He did but I could tell he didn’t like it.

  The guards dumped the staked vampire onto the table. All of the attending vampires began to stand, shouts of anger beginning to echo in the dining room. I decided to take a calculated risk and channeled some of the borrowed power from my stone. Visualizing the effect I desired, I said, “Astrinxi.”

  The metal of the table morphed, much like the cement had earlier. Tendrils of malleable metal lashed out, binding all the vampires but Manuel. The metallic strands wrapped around the vampires and their seats, holding them in place.

  “There’s no need to stand,” I said. I could hear the elder vampires whispering maliciously, all of them staring at me with pure rage. Manuel stared at his council members, then to the staked vampire (who’d been bound redundantly by the same spell). His gaze finally rested on me. The whispers died away as the assembled monsters waited for their lord to strike down the impudent wizard. Lester kept both hands on his shotgun, poised to go down fighting.

  The room was perfectly still for two solid minutes. Normal humans can sit still for maybe thirty seconds
at most. Between breathing and the normal fidgeting we tend to do, it’s all but impossible for us to be completely still for longer. Vampires don’t have that issue.

  Some vamps, mostly the youngest ones, make a show of shallow breathing. The elders who’ve seen at least a century or more of unlife don’t bother with the pretense. It’s damned creepy when you get right down to it.

  “What is this all about?” Manuel finally asked. “Interrupting our Conclave, attacking its members, bringing a mortal here,” he sneered this last at Lester. “This is a violation of the Codex Nocturnus.”

  “So is the attempted murder of an Assembly wizard,” I said. I locked eyes for the briefest of moments with Vega before pulling my cane free from the staked vamp’s chest cavity. The vampire snapped back into consciousness, fighting against his metal restraints. His frantic movements opened up several of the wounds the dirt had filled. His eyes became snake-like slits and what skin had remained undamaged became scaly.

  “He must be hungry,” I said.

  Manuel slammed a fist into the table, creating a depression at least two inches deep. “Explain yourself,” he demanded.

  “I was attacked after leaving the Columbia,” I said. “Two vampires and a human tried a drive-by shooting. He’s one of them.”

  Lord Vega’s eyes turned to Lester, who returned the gaze until he saw me shake my head. I hadn’t warned Lester what staring into a vampire’s eyes can do. “Why is he here?” demanded Vega.

  “The woman I was with, Deputy Blackwell, was injured in the attack.” I bounced my head in Lester’s direction. “This is her commanding officer.”

  “She shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” said Vega.

  “I sent her. Nico didn’t have much of an option,” said Lester. He used his commanding-officer voice. He looked to me for approval. I gave him a short nod.