by N M Thorn
Jim sighed, his sigh coming out like a low growl. “You’re either too tired or too drunk to think clearly, Gunz,” he muttered, throwing the box with pins on Angelique’s desk. “The reason these kinds of cases are sent to me in the first place is because everyone else already tried everything normal and gave up. There is no normal explanation to what’s going on. Five unexplainable deaths of seemingly unconnected people in five days. What do yah think?”
“Gunz, I couldn’t sense anything about these victims,” chimed in Angelique, gently touching his hand. “Nothing at all. It seems like something is veiling these people from my sight. This is another reason why we think these five cases are somehow connected and of a paranormal nature.”
Gunz moved his finger above the map, joining the pins with a thin line of cold blue fire. He stared at the small sparkling circle frowning and then pointed at the center of the circle. “What’s here?”
“Nothing special. It’s a small plaza with a few shops, a restaurant and a martial arts school,” said Jim. “Residential areas all around.”
“It’s Parkland,” said Angelique and sat down on top of her table, adjusting her long, thick ponytail. “Safe neighborhood, relatively clean of everything supernatural. But this martial arts school gives me a vibe… I can’t say what it is, but I’m sure there is something going on there. Besides that, the supernatural community outside the city limits are behaving strangely active and unusually careless. It seems like they don’t care if they expose their existence to humans. Something strange is going on. Strange and dangerous. This is why the Code Shadow was issued.”
Gunz waved his hand, extinguishing the blue circle and bit his lip. Angelique was a witch. Her magical abilities weren’t anything special, but as a seer she had no equals in the United States. It wasn’t often that Angelique was talking about vibes. So far, on most of the cases they worked on together, she had a clear reading on the nature of the crime, predicting with astonishing accuracy what kind of supernatural being they were dealing with. Her words about something veiling her sight made Gunz nervous. That was something to think about.
“I want you to go to this martial arts school and check it out,” said Jim, breaking his train of thought. “Don’t flash your shiny badge of an FBI consultant. Go undercover. Blend in. Take a few Taekwondo lessons or something. I need you to find out what’s going on there and if there’s anything that may have a connection to these deaths.”
“You want me to go to the martial arts school,” repeated Gunz, staring at Jim, incredulously. “You want me to go to the place where there are hundreds of humans, mostly little kids. Are you kidding me?”
“Entertaining you is not part of my job description,” replied Jim dryly. “I guess you’ll have to stop your visits to Missi’s Kitchen and—oh, the horror—take a vow of sobriety, so you don’t endanger all those kids by your magnificent fiery presence.”
Jim sounded calm and even, but Gunz caught notes of sarcasm in his voice and aggravation expanded in his chest before he could stop it. Together with the aggravation, he felt the Fire slowly rising within him and he closed his eyes for a moment to get in control of his emotions. Right now, he was tired and Jim, being human, was literally playing with fire by provoking him.
“I only go to Missi’s Kitchen in my off hours. How did you know about that? Have you been following me, Jim?” he asked through clenched teeth, a muscle working in his jaw.
“No, I haven’t. At least not physically,” objected Jim. He cocked his head and stared at Gunz with narrowed eyes. “But I do follow your GPS location. You know, LoJack in your Mercedes, or the GPS location of your phone. I want to know where you are at any time, day or night.”
“Why, Jim?” asked Gunz. He lowered his eyes, so Jim wouldn’t see how deeply his words affected him. “We’ve been working together for over a year. Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”
Jim folded his arms over his chest resentfully. “Trust has nothing to do with anything,” he replied coldly. “I’ll be honest with you, Gunz. When my goddaughter told me who and what you were and asked me to help you, I had my doubts. But she vouched for you, and I couldn’t say no to her. She didn’t hide from me how dangerous your natural state and your power could be to humans, and I chose to have you working with me as opposed to against me. The devil you know, so to speak…”
Gunz got up, throwing his hands in the air. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered, shaking his head.
“What’s so hard to believe,” exploded Jim, almost shouting. “You are a Fire Salamander. You’re scarier and more dangerous to humans than most of the monsters we’re hunting. If a single vampire or a werewolf can kill one human at a time, you can obliterate into ashes hundreds of humans in a split-second, should you lose control of your power. You’re like a supernatural weapon of mass destruction. So, yes, I want to know where you are at any time of the day and I want to be sure that an extra shot of vodka won’t make you lose control of your power.”
“I can’t believe it,” repeated Gunz. Lost for words, he glanced at Angelique, and she averted her eyes under his pained gaze. “All this time, I thought I was working with my friends. But all you were trying to do was keep me on a leash, to tame a monster…”
“That’s enough!” barked Jim, slamming his hand into the map. One of the pictures got torn and fell to the floor, but he ignored it. “I am your friend, but I’m also responsible for the safety of this city and when push comes to shove, I’ll do whatever needs to be done to protect the people. So right now, I’m here as your boss, not your buddy. Did I make myself clear, Mr. Zane Burns?”
“Yes, sir,” replied Gunz, crossing his hands behind his back. He grabbed his left wrist with his right hand and squeezed it, forcing himself to calm down.
“Perfect,” growled Jim. “Here is your next assignment. Tomorrow, you’ll go to this martial arts school, undercover. Do whatever it is you martial artists do and find out if there is anything supernatural going on in this school or in the area. Is that clear, Zane?”
“Yes, sir.”
Gunz knew that when Agent Andrews was using his name instead of his nickname, he wasn’t in a joking mood. Even though Gunz was just a consultant and not an official FBI agent, he had to comply silently with all of Jim’s commands, no questions asked. The military chain of command. Just like it was when he was in the spetsnaz, Belorussian special forces. Normally, he didn’t mind that, knowing that everything Jim was demanding of him was for the safety of the city. But today, he had to work extra hard to keep his true emotions at bay.
“You’ll report to me every evening and you will wear this at all times, even at night.” Jim threw a watch on the table. “It has a GPS tracker installed. It’s not a listening device, so I won’t be listening to your conversations, but I’ll know where you are at all times.”
Gunz took the watch, turning it in his fingers, carefully checking it from every side. “You realize that the first time I need to channel my power for my protection, this watch will go up in flames,” he said with a sarcastic lopsided smirk.
“No, it won’t,” objected Jim, mirroring Gunz’s sarcastic smirk. “I asked your favorite Master of Power to make this watch fireproof for you. Enjoy.”
“What is this button?” Gunz asked pointing at a small button with a little red stone embedded at the top of it. He put the watch on and locked the bracelet on his wrist.
“Panic button,” replied Jim grouchy. “In case you need help.”
“Seriously?” said Gunz and burst out laughing. Maybe Jim was right, and he was too drunk, but he couldn’t stop laughing for a few seconds. “If I’m in the kind of danger that my power and magic is not enough to save me, do you seriously think that I would summon humans into that mess?”
Jim rolled his eyes, but as much as he was trying to stay serious, an openhearted smile crossed his face. “Well, I wanted to make sure that your stubborn, insubordinate ass is safe. So sue me.” He turned to Angelique and waved at her desk. “Angie, gi
ve Gunz the files please, so he can get familiar with everything we have on this case so far.”
Angelique opened one of the drawers and pulled out a few blue folders with an FBI logo printed on each of them. Gunz took the folders and quickly scanned through the papers inside. The files had everything on the five victims—their backgrounds, autopsy reports, photos of crime scenes and the description of everything that was found there.
“I need more time to review everything,” murmured Gunz, without taking his eyes off the page he was holding in his hand. Then he raised his eyes and found both Angelique and Jim staring at him. “Jim, can you call Noah? I want to see the bodies before I go to the martial arts school tomorrow.”
“No problem. I’ll let him know,” said Jim, heading toward the door. “And Gunz, don’t forget—I expect your call with a full report tomorrow evening.”
“Yes, sir,” muttered Gunz, switching his attention back to the folders.
He pulled the photos of the crime scenes out of the folders and lined them up on the desk. Then he got up and leaned over the desk, carefully exploring each photo and comparing them.
Three of the victims died at home, alone, inside a locked house. There were no signs of a forced entry. Two of them were middle-age males. Both healthy and athletic, without any known medical conditions. The third victim was an elderly woman. Even though she was in her late seventies, she was relatively healthy for her age.
One of the victims passed away at work and there were at least five witnesses stating that the victim suddenly collapsed without displaying any symptoms or signs of distress. The last victim, a teenage girl, died when she was at a shopping mall with her friends. They were sitting at a food court and it happened so fast and so quietly that her girlfriends didn’t realize that she was dead until it was time to leave.
There was only one thing in common between these five cases—there was nothing on their bodies or in their surroundings that would suggest why and how these five people died. Gunz sighed and pulled the autopsy reports out of each folder. A soft touch to his shoulder made him flinch, and he turned around sharply.
Angelique was standing next to him, her hand resting on his shoulder. She smiled as soon as she noticed he was looking at her. “Zane,” she said, her fingers gently squeezing his shoulder. “Do you want me to stay here with you?”
“No, Angie, thank you. Go home,” he replied, returning her smile. “It’s late…” He glanced at his new watch. “Or early… Just lock your office before you go. I’ll open my portal when I’m ready to leave.”
“Zane…”
“Mphhh?” he mumbled, his attention back on the paperwork.
“Just be careful out there, okay?”
“Immortal Fire Salamander,” he replied without looking at her. “Means—can’t die…”
Chapter 3
~ Tessa ~
Was there a single day since I started to work in this dental office that he wasn’t running late? thought Tessa irritably as she rushed to the computer at the front desk. Today, she started to work at 6:30 AM and it was a long day. She just wanted it to be over, so she could finally leave and go to the dojang. For her, martial arts training was always the best way to unwind and relieve the aggravation and stress of the day.
She opened the schedule and quickly scanned through it. Ryan had only one patient left, and it was an easy procedure. But unfortunately, today Tessa had to assist two dentists—Dr. Ryan West and his new associate Dr. Isabelle Davis. Assisting the two dentists at the same time was like being a servant of two masters—Figaro here, Figaro there.
Both patients were already sitting in the waiting room. Tessa glanced at the clock on the wall. It was showing 6:10 PM, but she knew that the clock was set ten minutes ahead. So, even though both of her dentists were running late, she was on time. She plastered the brightest smile she could muster on her face and opened the door into the waiting area.
“Mr. Koval?” she said, gesturing at the door. “Please come in.”
A tall man in a dark business suit got up, throwing a Men’s Health magazine on the coffee table carelessly. The magazine slid across the table and fell on the floor, but he didn’t care to pick it up. Everything about this man was square. He had a square bulldog jaw, square military-style haircut, and wide square shoulders. Even the exorbitant diamond-encrusted watch on his wrist was square.
“First door on your left, sir,” said Tessa. She moved aside, allowing Mr. Koval to squeeze his square frame through the doorway. Next to him, Tessa with her height of five feet two and a slim figure looked like a child. He pushed by her, without giving her as much as a second look and walked into the room.
Tessa followed him inside, picking up a pair of gloves at the door and a patient bib on the counter with a clip already attached to it. She stared at the clip’s chain for a moment, wondering if it was long enough to put around the massive set of muscles on Mr. Koval’s square neck. Then she approached the patient and placed the bib on his chest.
“Mr. Koval, Dr. Davis will be with you in a moment,” she said, looking through the set of tools and materials on the tray to make sure that everything was ready for the procedure. “Can I get you anything in the meantime?”
“Hey, kid, I do not need no small talk from you,” he said, and Tessa cringed inwardly at the sound of his voice. “Just shut down the light on your way out and tell your Dr. Sweetheart that I have neither time nor mood to wait for her.”
Standing behind the dental chair, Tessa rolled her eyes, happy that he couldn’t see her and left the room, flipping the middle finger and the light switch off on her way out. She couldn’t stand this man. Rude and disrespectful, with his square Russian accent, he reminded her of one of those Russian mafia types that she saw in the movies. Who knows, maybe he was some kind of thug. He sure looked the part and behaved like one too.
Tessa let Dr. “Sweetheart” know that her charming patient was ready and zoomed back to the waiting room to invite the last patient. Ms. Kelly was a corporate attorney, and she was Dr. West’s patient of a few years. Watching her stroll along the hallway, swaying her hips seductively, Tessa wandered if Ms. Kelly truly needed the dental care or was she coming here to flirt with Ryan.
Tessa seated Ms. Kelly in the dental chair and placed the patient bib, covering her chest. Ms. Kelly readjusted her elegantly styled blond hair and moved the bib down as much as the clip allowed her to show off her deep décolleté and the top of her perky breasts-deluxe, perfectly sculpted by an artistic touch of a plastic surgeon.
“Let me get Dr. West for you,” said Tessa, ready to leave the room, but Ms. Kelly grabbed the bottom of her scrubs, stopping her.
“Hey, Tessa, how is he today?” she asked in a secretive tone of voice, like she was talking to her BFF.
“Busy,” Tessa replied dryly, knowing perfectly well that it wasn’t what Ms. Kelly was asking about. She carefully unlocked Ms. Kelly’s manicured claws off her scrubs and quickly moved away. “Let me get him for you.”
As soon as she walked out of the room, she ran into Dr. West. He already stood next to the door, but his whole demeanor was betraying his internal need to be as far away from this room as possible.
“Do you want me to assist you or Dr. Davis?” asked Tessa before he could say anything.
“You’re with me,” he whispered urgently, running his fingers through his dark hair, his male-model-worthy face shadowed by dread. “You’re not leaving me alone with this patient.”
“But why, Dr. West?” asked Tessa, innocently batting her eyelashes at him. “I’m sure Ms. Kelly is not looking for anything other than your undeniably great—um—dental expertise.”
Dr. West grunted and narrowed his electric-blue eyes, ready to say something that he would certainly regret later but changed his mind in the last moment. Instead, he grabbed Tessa’s shoulders and turned her around, ushering her inside the room.
“Hello Erica,” he said as he walked inside, putting on a fresh set of gloves and a mask
that Tessa offered him.
“Ryan, darling, how are you today?” Ms. Kelly purred, twisting in the dental chair to throw a lustful gaze at him. “It’s been so long since the last time I’ve seen you.”
“Not long enough,” muttered Tessa under her breath, rolling the dental assistant’s chair over and sat down.
“I’m fine, very busy, which is good. So, no complaints,” replied Ryan. His eyes tripped over her cleavage and he pulled the bib higher to cover it. Then he grabbed a couple of clean gauzes and placed them on top of the bib. Moving the tray closer, he took the explorer and the mirror and cleared his throat. “Well, let’s get started… open please.”
Tessa snickered under her mask, noticing that Ryan didn’t go for his usual small talk and went straight to the procedure. He readjusted the unit light and moved closer, leaning slightly over Ms. Kelly. Gently, he probed the tooth he was planning to work on, put the tools back in the tray and nodded at Tessa. She had the syringe with the anesthetic ready and gave it to him behind the patient’s chair.
As he took the syringe, Tessa noticed Erica’s hand sneaking over and landing on Ryan’s thigh. With the look of purity and innocence on her face, she gave it a little squeeze and moved her hand higher, stopping dangerously close to his crotch. Ryan’s eyes widened above the mask and he dropped the syringe, jumping off the chair and staggered back a couple of steps.
Tessa snorted loudly and pressed her gloved hand to her mask over her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud. Ryan sent a scorching gaze her way, the crimson color of his face clashing with the blue color of his mask.
“New syringe, please, Tessa,” he growled, extending his hand but didn’t sit down.
Tessa gave him a new syringe, took her gloves off and bent down to pick up the one from the floor. She just reached the floor when the light flickered on and off. But it wasn’t a regular power outage. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t a power outage at all and Tessa was positive that except for her, no one in the room could see it.