Dead-Tective Box Set

by Mac Flynn

  I leapt forward from the safety of Vince's back and rolled my sleeves up. "He's not yours and he's not going to be yours!" I growled.

  Lamia raised herself so she stood eight feet tall and beckoned me. "Then show me you deserve him."

  I barely inched forward before a flash of darkness swept past me and at Lamia. It was Vince, and he slammed a hard right and left into Lamia's gut. She doubled over and clutched her gut, but she quickly slithered back out of his reach. Her eyes blazed with anger. "You will pay for that, vampire! I will make you massage every scale you injure!" she hissed.

  Lamia's tail whipped forward and snapped at Vince. He jumped back, but her tail was too fast and in mid-leap she coiled herself around his legs. She slammed his back to the ground and a heard a few bones crunch under the impact. I rushed forward to help my partner, but Lamia tossed some of her bracelets at me. The trinkets uncoiled themselves into their true snaky forms and landed a yard in front of me and between me and Vince. They reared up and unfurled their hoods to show themselves as some sort of pygmy cobras.

  "You've got to be kidding me," I quipped. I backed up, but the snakes followed. They snapped and bit at me, but only in the air in front of me. They didn't actually want to kill me any more than Lamia wanted to kill Vince because she knew she'd lose her prize trophy if I died.

  Being stuck to her prize as I was emboldened me to try something very reckless. I stopped my retreat and tried to stomp on the snakes. They slithered away from my foot, but only a short distance where they stopped and hissed at me. "Hiss yourselves!" I shot back, and marched onward. They retreated and I came closer to the battle between Lamia and Vince.

  Vince's fight with the big snake-cuna wasn't going quite as well as mine with the mini-Lamias. Lamia still held onto his feet, and his arms couldn't reach her tail to unwind himself from her grasp. She lifted him off the floor and held him upside down in front of her. She curled her lips back in a wide grin and revealed sharp, dripping fangs.

  "You are much easier to defeat than I thought, my little vampire. Perhaps you aren't the treat I thought you were," she cooed.

  Vince's lips were pressed together in pain, but a sly smile slipped onto his lips. "I wished you to bring me closer."

  Lamia's eyes widened just in time for Vince to swing toward her and slam his fists into both of them. She howled and clutched her eyes. Her tail loosened its grip and Vince dropped elegantly onto his feet. He rushed her for more blows, but her tail swiped at him with its barbs, and several cut through his coat and shirt. Blood oozed from his chest and he clutched his wounds. Lamia slithered forward and snapped her wide jaws at him, but he managed to dodge her fangs only to drop into the clutches of her tail. It was as though he were fighting two creatures at the same time, and the taily one managed to wrap itself around his chest and pin his arms to his sides.

  Lamia lifted him off the ground and squeezed him until his blood dripped from between her tail folds. She slammed him against first one side of the cage and then the other. Each time more blood poured onto her tail and the ground, leaving a bloody trail to commemorate her winning.

  "You can't do anything with that pathetic ring and human attached to you, can you, vampire?" Lamia mocked him.

  I stood five yards off and watched this bloody show in horror. Vince struggled to free his ring hand, but she kept a tight hold on his arms so he couldn't wield it. I grasped mine in both hands and a bright light shone from the stone. Lamia whipped her head to me and snarled. I grinned in return.

  "He's not the only one who can use this thing," I informed her.

  "But if I tear off your finger he will be," she quipped. Vince remained in her tail while her front half slithered toward me in fast, winding movements. I ducked down and raised a barrier just as her snapping jaws swooped down on me. Her teeth hit the barrier and much was my horror when they sank deep into the light. She pulled herself free, but left gaping holes in the barrier. She chuckled at my shocked expression. "You think those rings make you invincible? They are only as strong as the person who wields them, and you are not strong." She hissed and barreled down on me for a barrier-breaking blow.

  A half inch from the barrier she stopped and let out a blood-curdling scream. She whipped her head to face behind her, and I followed her gaze. Vince was still trapped in her tail, but he had sank his teeth through her scales and deep into her flesh. He gobbled up as much of her blood as his mouth would allow, but two streams of blood still poured from the large puncture marks of his canine teeth.

  "You bloody vampire! Release me!" she demanded. She turned away from me to pry Vince loose, but I jumped on her scaly back and clung to the stiff, thick plates. Vince must have had a hell of a bite to dig through those things.

  Lamia roared in anger and reared back, but I held on to the bucking bronco and climbed up to her head and arms. I became as a cat battling a snake as I tore at her clothes, clawed at her eyes, and beat off her flailing hands. Her flailing lessened in intensity as Vince drained her of her energy. In a minute she clutched her head and swayed to and fro. Her grip on Vince loosened and he dropped to the ground. I dove off as the snake woman fell forward and crashed belly-first onto the ground.

  Vince slid forward and caught me in his arms. He pulled us away and turned us around so we could admire our handiwork. Lamia lay flat on the ring floor, and her scaly skin was pale from her loss of blood. Her eyes were half-lidded and her arms flapped at her sides in a failed attempt to rise. Her little snake-lings slithered up to her and stopped her bleeding wounds with their bodies while others rubbed themselves against her cheeks to soothe her.

  A bell rang overhead and the crowd went wild. There were cheers, whistles, and even the occasional rose made it through the metal bars and to our feet. Vince set me down and bowed, and I followed suit. The lights turned on and illuminated the raptured audience. Mitch stood by our cage door with a huge grin on his face and clapped.

  Lamia's door swung open and the stone golem that guarded her office stomped inside. Rocky walked over to his mistress and hefted her long form over his shoulder. The creature stomped from the arena and up the stairs to her office. The smaller snakes slithered up the stairs after them.

  Our door opened and Mitch strode inside. "Bravo! Bravo! That's using your teeth and claws!" Mitch complimented us. He sidled up beside us and nodded at Lamia's retreating limp figure. "Let's just hope you didn't drain her bad enough that she can't tell you what you want to know."

  "We will-we will see," Vince replied.

  There was something not quite right about Vince's stutter, and I glanced at his face. It was as white as a cotton sheet, and he swayed a little. I caught his arm and held him still. "What's wrong?" I asked him.

  "It is nothing," Vince answered.

  Mitch leaned toward Vince and raised an eyebrow. "Nothing my ass. I bet you drank a little too much of her venomous blood, didn't you?"

  "'Venomous blood?'" I repeated.

  Mitch nodded. "Lamia's blood contains toxins that are deadly to humans and supernaturals. Vince here is lucky he wasn't killed outright."

  "I am fine," Vince argued, but his legs buckled and he leaned his greater weight against me.

  "Yeah, fine," I quipped as I held him up. I swung one of his arms over my shoulder, and was surprised when Mitch took the other. "I can carry him," I told him.

  Mitch grinned and nodded at the crowds. "I know, but I couldn't ask for better advertising than this."

  Chapter 11

  We hefted Vince up the stairs and back to the entrance to Lamia's office. The door to the stairs was open and the golem was gone. We found him and his mistress in the office. She lay on a reclining couch among the plants. A damp towel lay over her pale forehead and the little snakes were busy bandaging her wounds with gauze and wrapping. The golem stood by her side and glared at us as we entered.

  Lamia was conscious, though her voice was weak, and she waved off her guard. "It's fine, Rocky. Go back down and guard the door." The golem grudgingly tro
mped past us and down the stairs. Lamia gestured to the chairs. "Have a seat, victors." Mitch and I dragged Vince to one of the chairs and hefted him into the seat. He straightened as well as he could, and Lamia admired him with her eyes. "You must be desperate to know the location of that facility to drink my blood. I've killed dozens of weaker vampires with just a drop."

  "Fortunately I am not a weak vampire," he quipped.

  She smiled. "No, you're not, and that's why I wanted you, but I suppose a bet is a bet." She waved a hand at her desk. "The location is in the center bottom drawer inside a greeting card. I meant to visit it at one time, but I imagine I won't get that chance now, will I?" Mitch walked around the desk and retrieved the card.

  "No," Vince agreed.

  Lamia sighed and shrugged. "Oh well. A little less competition in the illegal racket market won't harm my business. Now be off with you before I change my mind and have my golems crush you."

  Vince stood on his own and bowed low at the waist to our hostess. "We thank you for your assistance."

  Lamia smiled and waved him off. "None of your suaveness, vampire. Just get out of here before I become even more jealous of this half-dead human."

  Vince bowed his head and led Mitch and me from the room. Something Lamia said stuck in my mind, and when we reached the open coliseum I sidled up to him. We walked around the perimeter towards the basement entrance. "What's she mean by half-dead human? Is that because of me becoming a part vampire or something?"

  "Something like that," he admitted.

  Mitch joined us and scrutinized Vince. "You sure you don't need to go to a witch doctor to have a look at your blood? I know a good one downtown, though the directions will cost you."

  I rolled my eyes and pushed him away. "Don't you ever think about anything but money?" I growled.

  "My life, which is far more important than money," he returned. He became distracted when we passed a lounge of beautiful cat women who were clad in loincloths and bikinis. "Speaking of life, I'm sure you won't need me for getting yourselves killed at this facility place, so I'll just take my leave."

  He stepped down the stairs, but I grabbed his arm and yanked him back. "Aren't you forgetting something?" I asked him.

  He blinked at me. "I don't think so."

  I held out my palm to him. "Fork over the greeting card."

  Mitch sheepishly grinned, pulled the card from his jacket, and set it in my hand. "You can hardly blame me for keeping it. That information is worth five million dollars."

  "Uh-huh, now you can go have your fun," I replied as I shoved him toward the cat women.

  Vince waited for me a few yards ahead, and I waved the card at him. "So what do we do now?" I asked him.

  "We will confirm the location ourselves and call upon Romero tonight with our findings," Vince explained.

  My shoulders sagged and I sighed. "No rest for the wicked, huh?"

  He smiled. "Not tonight."

  I leaned toward him and frowned at his pale face. "You sure you don't need a break? You look awful."

  "I will be fine until the night is through," he promised me.

  I pursed my lips and sighed. "You'd better keep that promise," I mumbled as we strode onward.

  We returned to our car sans Mitch and I opened the card for the address. "'Advocate Ministries, 666 Sexton Drive," I read aloud. I lifted my head and wrinkled my nose. "Why does that address sound bad?"

  "The number is that of the beast, or the devil," Vince informed me. He started the car and away we drove down the street.

  I cringed. "As in the devil?" I asked him.

  "The same."

  "We're not going up against Satan, are we?"

  "Unlikely. Even in the supernatural world there are those who believe he may not even exist," Vince replied.

  "But we've been fighting devils," I reminded him.

  "Merely creatures of the same persuasion, but not Mephistopheles himself," he argued.

  I blinked at him. "Mephistopheles? That sounds like bad arthritis or something."

  "It is an alternate name for the devil," he informed me.

  "Oh, well, that would make it a bad something."

  We puttered on our way down the streets and the address led us across the tracks to the poorer side of the city. The neighborhoods were slummy areas of crowded, single-story shacks with trash on the lawns, those that had lawns. Old trees with widow-makers shaded the run-down shanties, and wrecks of cars sat on the the broken curbs. A few people peeked out from behind their ragged, hole-filled curtains, but other than that I spied no inhabitants, living or supernatural.

  I watched the poor houses pass by my window and sighed. "A cemetery would be less depressing," I muttered.

  "The blight Ruthven causes has no end," Vince commented.

  I turned to him and gestured out the front window at the depressing sight. "Is this why you want to stop Ruthven?"

  "One of many reasons," he replied.

  We traveled onward through the ruin of humanity and arrived at our destination. Vince parked a half block down and I squinted at the structure that stood on the corner. "A church? The book factory is in an old church?" I asked Vince.

  That was certainly what it looked like from that distance. It was a run-down church with a great, pointed wooden steeple that cut the sky and lorded over the desolate neighborhoods. Its stone walls were crumbling, and the stain-glass windows were wrecked by stones and hammers. A small graveyard of toppled gravestones sat at the side nearest where we stood, and in front of the church and graveyard was the remains of a flower garden, now filled with brown and dead weeds.

  Vince pursed his lips. "Ruthven would be pleased with the irony of creating abominations in a formerly holy area," he pointed out.

  "Does this guy get his kicks out of kicking puppies, too?" I quipped.

  "Possibly, but we must get a closer look to confirm Lamia's information," Vince advised.

  We slipped out of the car and past the nearest house on our left. Behind the houses sat a vacant alley filled with piles of garbage and leaning old garages. Vince led the way down the block to the corner church, and we reached the iron-barred fence that surrounded the graveyard and ran around the entire rear of the church. Piles of trash leaned against the walls of the church and in the alley. The rear door of the church was boarded up, and I could see the small windows that led into the basement were also shut up. The small burial plots with their toppled headstones and piles of dirt looked lonely and forgotten amid that gloomy atmosphere.

  Vince stopped us at the corner of the graveyard and I saw his eyes strain to see through the darkened, empty windows. "Think we have the right place?" I whispered to him.

  "Undoubtedly," a voice spoke up behind us.

  We whirled around to find ourselves staring at Officer Romero in full uniform. At his side stood Brutus, and the brute lifted his lips but didn't make a sound.

  "How the hell did you get here?" I questioned him.

  "I overheard you read the address in the car outside the Immortal Serpent and raced here so my men and I could be at the ready to storm the facility. We've already looked the place over and have detected a lot of magic use in the basement. It has to be the facility," he explained.

  "How did you manage to convince your superiors you knew the location?" Vince wondered.

  Romero shrugged. "I didn't, but my men were convinced enough to follow me."

  My mind hearkened back to our visit to the illicit fighting coliseum. "So, um, exactly how long have you been following us?"

  "I've been tailing you since you left me," he explained.

  I nervously smiled at him. "So the whole time?"

  "The whole time," he replied.

  I whipped my head to Vince who's stoic face told me he knew more than he'd let on in this long adventure this night. "You knew he was there, didn't you?"

  "I could smell his undeath, yes," Vince told me.

  I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to Romero. "We-um, we weren't at
any illegal cage-match arena just to fight. We were just-um-just-"

  Romero held up one of his stitched hands and actually cracked a smile. "Your secret is safe. I didn't call for backup until after you left the coliseum," he assured me.

  I blinked my eyes at him. "Backup? You mean Vince and I don't have to be the ones to risk our necks trying to bring down Ruthven?" I asked him.

  He nodded. "Yes. Tonight we will show you what the Parasquad is capable of."

  Romero put two fingers to his lips and blew loud and clear. His whistle echoed through the quiet night, and brought alive the garbage in the alley and the piles of dirt in the graveyard. Dozens of rotting hands pushed up from the ground like some horrifying zombie movie, and zombie officers stumbled from the trash. The dozens of Parasquad officers stumbled toward the unholy church. They climbed through the windows and broke open the rear door and basement windows. Bright ceiling lights flickered on inside the basement and the ground floor, and the sound of gunshots reached our ears.

  Vince jumped forward to assist, but Romero held his arm out and blocked his path. "Not this time, vampire. Let the zombies do their work."

  The zombie officers marched into the face of danger without hesitation and overwhelmed the place through sheer numbers. It also helped that they were armed with familiar-looking bottles of red liquid. Some officers remained around the perimeter of the church with their weapons at the ready, and the rest fought a fierce battle inside. I heard screams and yells, and shadows and bodies flew by the lights on both floors.

  Romero knelt beside Brutus, who strained at the leash eager to join the fray. "Easy there, boy. Not yet."

  Several devils crawled out the ground-floor windows with zombies close behind them. Most of them didn't make it very far before the contents in a half-dozen spray bottles hit their legs and they stumbled to the ground writhing in agony as their flesh was burned by the blood. The exterior zombies grabbed the devils and dragged them to the front where Parasquad cars sped up and parked on the weed-choked lawn.

  One devil managed to leap over the spraying and land ten feet from us. Romero unleashed his undead dog. Brutus leaped at the devil and grabbed the thin red creature by its neck. The dog shook the devil like it was a rag doll, and Romero rushed up and clamped a pair of special handcuffs on the wrists of the devil.