The Judah Black Novels Box Set

by E. A. Copen

  I studied Marcus’ blank face. Sometimes, I wished I was a werewolf, capable of sniffing out lies and half-truths. Because I wasn’t, I had to rely on my instincts, and my instincts told me that Marcus was right. If he wanted Reed dead, he’d be dead already.

  “I know about your little underground railroad project, yes,” I answered after a minute. “And as long as there are no bodies and no one goes against their will, and nobody causes any more trouble than normal, I’m willing to forget I know.” I leaned forward. “But if bodies start dropping because of what you’re doing, Marcus, I’ll blow everything wide open, so tread carefully.”

  “So long as you agree to do the same,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile. “I’m glad we understand each other yet again. Now, have you made any advancements in your case?”

  I started to tell him everything but paused. He hadn’t been happy about me bringing up Emiko the night before. He’d be even less pleased if I did it again, especially if I didn’t have some sort of plan to fix everything. It would be easier and safer to withhold as much information as possible until I had a better plan.

  “Some,” I said.

  Marcus didn’t miss the pause I took to think. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t stop me.

  “I believe it’s a case of ghost sickness. The apparition responsible attacked me last night in your study.” I glanced at Cynthia. “I’m surprised she didn’t tell you. She was right there.”

  Cynthia lifted her pointed chin. “I thought it best that you brief him, Agent Black, as I’m not overly familiar with ghosts and the supernatural. That is your area of expertise.”

  Marcus didn’t call her on her cop-out, so I decided I wouldn’t either. Maybe he liked having a dumb secretary. Who was I to judge?

  “Anyway,” I said, turning my attention back to Marcus, “my working theory is that if I can deal with the ghost, I can fix what’s going on with Mia. She should make a full recovery once I figure out what the ghost wants.”

  “Will you do a séance? An exorcism?”

  I shook my head. “I think it’s going to be more complicated than that. The ghost isn’t just attached to the house. It’s attached to Mia, too. And it doesn’t seem too keen on talking to me. I’m going to tap a few resources, shake a few trees, and see what falls out. If all goes well, I should have more answers tomorrow night.”

  Marcus did not look pleased. He frowned and then lowered his head.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “I’m working as fast as I can.”

  “Mia’s condition has worsened,” Marcus said. “She is no longer responding to the medications Doctor Han has been using. Her vitals went into a free fall this afternoon. She crashed and had to be revived. I fear… I fear she’s hanging on only by a thread, Judah. Sheer willpower.”

  I put my head in my hands. Time really was running out. Maybe I didn’t have until tomorrow night. I could always call Chanter back and tell him it was an emergency, but then I didn’t even know if he could help, given his condition.

  “There’s more.”

  “More?” I raised my head. “Tell me it’s good news.”

  Marcus’ sigh told me it wasn’t. “Doctor Han fears Zoe is showing symptoms as well. She had a violent outburst this afternoon shortly after Mia’s crash and attacked someone in her sleep. He says he’s unsure if she’s been eating, and he’s afraid she may revert to a more desperate state.”

  I shuddered at the memory of what Andre LeDuc had become. If Zoe went too far, it would be hard to keep things quiet. She’d start ripping people apart at the hospital. Something like that would make national news.

  “Tell me you’ve got the situation contained.”

  The vampire nodded. “Han has her on sedatives for now, but it’s hard to tell how she’ll react. Judah, this seems to be spreading. How far will it go?”

  “Ghost sickness has supposedly wiped out entire lines of people,” I said with a shrug and then cringed. That meant Sal, Nina, Chanter, and Leo were all at risk, let alone whoever Zoe’s living relatives might be. “Is Mia stable again? How long do I have?”

  “Hard to say how long it will be. Han has her stable for now.”

  The car stopped and Marcus reached over to open the door, revealing that we were back at the station. We’d only taken a short drive around the reservation. I suggest you make the most of your resources, Judah, and that you do it quickly. I want this cleared up by tomorrow night.”

  I nodded. “I’ll do everything I can. You just keep up your end of the deal. Nobody dies.”

  I got out of the car and stood on wobbly legs, watching Marcus’ SUV roll away. Part of me wanted to get in my car and drive straight to the hospital to check on Mia. It was after visiting hours, but I could probably get in to see her with my badge. Even if I drove all the way out there, what could I do for her? I needed to talk to Chanter. Talking to Chanter meant telling him about Mia, about flesh and blood that had been hidden from both he and Sal for over a year. I doubted I could convince Chanter not to tell Sal. This whole thing was going to explode in my face. There had to be a way to head that off. I just didn’t see it yet, and this couldn’t wait any longer.

  I drove home chewing on my bottom lip, trying to work out exactly what I would say to Chanter. Maybe if I told him lives were at stake, he’d at least hold off until after Mia was well again. Sal might forgive me if I came to him with a success. Once he found out his little girl was sick, he would lose it. If he knew Marcus had her, he’d tear the hospital apart to get to her.

  Sal’s bike wasn’t the only one in the driveway when I pulled in. There was a Harley there decked out in black and red. The Tomahawk Kings logo was proudly painted on the side. I recognized the bike from the roadhouse, but I didn’t know who it belonged to.

  Lucky for me, it turned out to be Bran. Sal, Hunter, and he sat at the table playing blackjack when I came through the door. The sight of the three of them together made me worried. The last thing I wanted was for Hunter to grow up and join in their little club. I didn’t want the Kings to think I was friendly and approving of everything they did either.

  “Konbanwa, Ms. BSI,” Bran offered and put down his hand. My worry must have been obvious because he then turned to Hunter and said, “Ah, look at the time. We’ve let it get away from us. Aren’t you supposed to be doing your homework or something?”

  “I don’t have school tomorrow,” Hunter protested. “Plus, I’ve got all weekend.”

  “Hunter,” I said in a warning tone.

  Sal stood and collected the cards. “Do as your mom says, kiddo. Give us some space. We have to do boring adult stuff. Unless you want to help with the dishes?”

  Hunter made a face and stood. “No, thanks. I’d rather do my algebra.” He beat a hasty retreat for his room.

  When I heard the door click shut, I turned to the two Kings in the room and crossed my arms. “What’s going on?”

  Bran, who was now the only one still seated at the table, leaned back in his chair. Sitting in it, he made it look like a children’s chair. “Istaqua spoke to you yesterday morning about whoever was behind what happened to your house.”

  I shot Sal a glare, but his back was to me. He had conveniently decided to start loading the dishwasher. “I didn’t really want the Kings involved. It’s not your problem.”

  “On the contrary,” Bran said, finally standing. The top of his head almost brushed the ceiling. “You may think of us purely as outlaws, Judah, but we do our best to protect this place. We look after one another, and by extension, those our brothers in arms care about. You are family by your connection to Sal. We do not let that kind of thing stand in our back yard against people so close. So, you see, it is our problem. If we just let it go, these fools will think they’re free to do whatever they want.”

  “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt, Bran. The fact that they messed up my house is bad enough. I’d really just like to move on.”

  He nodded. “I understand. If it were
up to me, I’d respect your wishes. Istaqua’s given an order. I must obey. I’m here as a courtesy. He does not know I’ve come.”

  Sal stopped scraping plates into the garbage and turned around. “It was the Vanguard, Judah. They’ve got a few of the guards at the prison on their payroll. Cornered Bran today while he was on shift.”

  Bran rolled up one of his sleeves and showed me a series of large, black bruises up one arm.

  “Jesus,” I muttered.

  “They gave me a message to bring back to the club,” Bran said. “These will heal. But these people, they know where I live as well, where all of us live. They have a list of my family. Pictures of my wife.” He rolled his sleeve down. “I cannot let that threat go unanswered.”

  I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “What are you going to do?”

  “A good leader takes matters into his own hands. A great leader knows how to delegate.” He glanced at Sal.

  Sal crossed his arms but wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You know what we’re going to do. They can’t pull that shit. Not here. Not with us. Judah, what if they do something to Hunter? Or try to hurt you?”

  “I can take care of myself!”

  “But what about Hunter?” Bran asked. “What about the other wives and children?” He paced over to put a big hand on my shoulder. The weight of it almost made me lose my balance. “We are not going to kill anyone. I don’t expect the situation to escalate to that. I wanted you to be aware, even if Istaqua didn’t. After tonight, you may find yourself an even bigger target. I hope that won’t be the case. I pray these Vanguard are wise enough not to push things further. But we are going to confront them and let them know we won’t let this continue.”

  “I’m going with him,” Sal volunteered.

  I stared at him, mouth agape, and shook my head. “What kind of example is that for Hunter?”

  “I wasn’t asking for your permission, babe, just your understanding. I’m doing this. We’re doing this.” He came over once Bran withdrew his hand and leaned down to kiss me on the forehead. “Lock the doors while I’m gone. Don’t wait up.”

  And just like that, he went out the front door. Bran hesitated a moment, his bottom lip protruding. “Try to understand,” he said.

  I took his big hand in mine and squeezed it. “Just make sure he comes back to me, okay?”

  Bran bowed and touched my hand to his forehead. “I will always bring him back to you,” he said and then went out the door after Sal.

  I busied myself cleaning the kitchen and folding laundry. If I stayed busy, I wouldn’t have to think about how Bran, Sal, and the rest of the Kings were out there assaulting someone. Whoever they’d chosen to send their message back with probably deserved it. Hell, he was probably a racist asshole. I tried to imagine who it might be, but the only face I could call up was the guy handing out pamphlets in front of the Vanguard headquarters. He didn’t look like he’d put up much of a fight against a bunch of bikers. I hoped they wouldn’t kill him.

  Once I cleaned the kitchen, I decided the floor needed scrubbing. I changed the lightbulbs, even though only a few were burnt out, and arranged the DVDs on Sal’s entertainment stand by genre.

  It was two in the morning before I heard Sal pull up on his motorcycle. I’d turned off the lights in the front of the trailer except for the lamp in the living room and sat down on the sofa to take my gun apart and clean it. When I heard the engine cut out, I sighed with relief. He wasn’t dead. Maybe they’d just gone out to talk after all.

  That hope was dashed as soon as Sal stumbled in through the front door sporting two new black eyes. I knew they were new because, being a werewolf, he’d already healed the ones from the night before. He also had a cut on his lip and another on his cheek.

  I jumped up from the sofa and crossed the room to slide under his arm and prop him up. “Holy shit.”

  “You should see the other guys.”

  I reached up to touch his cheek.

  Sal made a hissing sound and jerked away. “It’s all right. I’ll heal. Just need to rest.”

  For the second night in a row, I helped Sal into his room and eased him onto the bed. He winced when I pulled the leather vest off and let out a small growl of pain as I helped him get his shirt off. His ribs were a rainbow of bruises, and his arm was stiff and swollen. Maybe it was broken.

  “Let me get some ice.”

  “No,” he protested and eased back onto the pillows. “Just need to rest. I’ll be fine. Just sleep.”

  “Nobody’s dead, right?”

  “Nobody’s dead.” He closed his eyes.

  “Good.” I pulled the blankets up over him, and then carefully curled up next to him, hoping my body heat would at least ease some of the pain. There wasn’t much else I could do.

  His breathing slowed, and I thought for sure he’d fallen asleep until he moved his head and whispered in a gravelly voice, “Hey, babe? Will you do me a favor?”

  “What do you need?” I thought maybe he’d ask for some pain pills or at least an extra pillow.

  “The charity thing tomorrow. I need you to take those cupcakes. I don’t think I’m going to make it.”

  I smiled at that. How could I not? Here he was, still healing from a fight with one or maybe more of the Vanguard, and all he could think about was getting those cupcakes to a charity event. I sat up and kissed his forehead. “You rest. I’ll take care of those cupcakes.” I owe Istaqua a piece of my mind anyway, I thought, though I didn’t say it out loud. It wouldn’t have done me any good. Sal was already asleep.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next morning, I roused Sal just enough to figure out that the charity raffle was supposed to be in front of the Dairy Queen in Eden. All the way there, Hunter and I chatted back and forth about school, about the pack, about life. It was the most he’d talked to me in months. It felt good to talk and laugh with him again. I’d been so worried about how he would react when he found out about Sal and me. I should have given Hunter more credit. He was a smart kid. He needed to apply himself more as far as school went, but a good kid nonetheless.

  He quieted as we pulled up to the Dairy Queen. Dozens of motorcycles were on display. They’d been polished and touched up for the event, chrome and leather catching the sun. In the shade of the building, the Kings had erected an easy up and put a few tables under it. A paper banner twitched in the light breeze, reading: CHARITY BAKE SALE AND RAFFLE. Another smaller, handwritten note below advertised that every purchase over five dollars came with a voucher for a free ice cream cone inside.

  The parking lot was already buzzing with people. Parents and kids

  milled around the table under the shade, eyeing a huge woven basket overflowing with goodies, some of which I recognized from Chanter’s pawn shop. I parked the car at the edge of the lot. Hunter opened his door and said, “Whoa, I’ve never seen so many motorcycles in one place.”

  This is nothing, kid, I thought. I’d seen a few biker rallies outside Cleveland when I worked there and helped work security for extra cash on the side once. I’d never take Hunter to one of those things. Even though the ones I’d seen were populated mostly by the well-behaved, I’d heard more than once that they could be rough places, but I didn’t bring that up with Hunter.

  I knocked on the top of the car to get his attention. “How about helping me with these cupcakes, Hunter?”

  We were still pulling out the cupcake containers when Bran jogged over. “Agent Judah Black,” he said, his forehead creasing with concern. “Let me help you.”

  I was surprised he was there considering the beating Sal had taken. Bran didn’t look too bad. He had some fresh bruising on his knuckles. Otherwise, there was no sign he’d been in a fight.

  “You look just fine.” I shoved one of the containers at him and bent into the back of the car to get another.

  “I am smart enough not to pick a fight with a baseball bat. How is Sal this morning?”

  “Sleeping.” I glanced at Hunter. I hoped that wo
uld be enough to discourage Bran from pursuing the topic further.

  He seemed to get it and took all three of the cupcake containers from my hands. “Thanks,” I said, brushing some hair out of my face.

  “It’s my pleasure,” Bran mumbled. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll be feeling better later today.” He shifted all the containers into one arm, something only someone Bran’s size could have managed

  Hunter’s eyes got wide, and he pointed to the katana on Bran’s back. “Is that a real sword?”

  Bran grinned and put his arm back under the stack of cupcake boxes. “Real enough, young Hunter. Come on now, let’s get these over to the table so we can see what price Flash wants to sell them for.”

  Hunter and I had to walk at a brisk pace to keep up with Bran’s stride on the way to the table. Chanter sat there, along with the redhaired and freckled guy I’d met at Diabla’s, who was presumably Flash. A cash register was between them, and in front of that were whole homemade pies, cookies, brownies, doughnuts, and more. I was glad I hadn’t stuck around to ice cupcakes with Sal. Everything on that table looked like it was set up for a photo op. Istaqua stood beside the table, arms crossed, sunglasses down, his lips drawn into a straight line. I had no doubt his unhappy glare was directed at me.

  Chanter got up and came around the table when we came close, pulling me into a hug. “We need to talk,” I whispered to him.

  “Later,” he promised and extended a hand to Hunter. “And how are you, boy? Keeping your mother busy?”

  I glanced back to the road. A white box van rounded the corner, moving at a sluggish pace. I noticed too late that it was slowing. The back door slid aside. Black hoods, black hands, and black guns extended out from the darkness inside. In a series of deafening cracks, three submachine guns opened fire on the crowd. Everyone who could threw themselves to the ground. Parents grabbed their children and tried to pull them to safety. In an instant, the table behind me tipped over, the sound of the cash register crashing to the pavement barely audible over the crack of gunfire.