Unturned- The Complete Series

by Rob Cornell

  “I didn’t get any details,” I said. “I don’t think there are details. But Mom thinks it could be something besides the Maidens making Sly sick.”

  “Why would she think that?”

  “Honestly, because I think she feels guilty.”

  “About what?”

  I drummed the beat to Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song” on the steering wheel. I didn’t want to reveal Mom and Sly’s little betrayal. I was angry with her, but I didn’t want to make her look bad to Odi. “It’s complicated.”

  “Ain’t it always with you?”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “You’re part of my life’s complications, so don’t get glib with me, Mr. Crossman.”

  He waved his hands in pretend fear. “Oooooh.”

  I smiled. The kid had a knack for keeping things light. Sometimes he took it to annoying lengths, but for the most part I appreciated his levity. He kept me from getting too dark and broody.

  “If we go with Mom’s theory, we’re faced with one, massive, obvious question.”

  “What else is making him sick?”

  “What else, or who else?”

  We stared ahead out the windshield. The only thing to look at was a white concrete wall that separated the restaurant’s lot from the pawn shop next door. All I could see of the neighboring building was the roof and the “We Buy Gold” sign posted high above the shop’s entrance.

  Neither of us said anything for a while.

  “What about…” Odi shook his head. “No, that doesn’t make sense.”

  “If we’re brainstorming,” I said, “you don’t get to hold anything back.”

  He shrugged. “Someone from the Ministry? One of the dudes you pissed off?”

  “Possible.” But it seemed thin. Why go after Sly? I didn’t discount the idea entirely, though.

  I rummaged through my mind for other possibilities. For some damn reason Fiona popped up. She didn’t have anything to do with this.

  You sure about that?

  Of course I was sure. That made even less sense than…well…anything.

  Fiona had plenty to answer for as it was. I didn’t need to pin any of my other troubles on her.

  I tried to back away from assuming this had something to do with me. Granted, most of the attacks lately had been directed at me. Vamps, overzealous demon hunters, Ministry conspirators. Everyone hated Sebastian.

  But who hated Sly?

  I couldn’t picture the guy having any serious enemies. He didn’t hunt demons. He didn’t summon creatures from the beyond. All he really did was mix potions in the back room of his headshop in between selling fellow ganja smokers the paraphernalia they needed for a mellow night and a bad case of munchies.

  Everyone loved Sly.

  But everybody has enemies.

  Even if that were the case, I didn’t know where to start looking for one. I couldn’t ask Sly. The only other person I knew close to him was his stoner nephew, Green. I guess he was as good a place to start as any.

  I started the car.

  Odi perked up. “You think of something?”

  “We’re gonna pay Sly’s nephew a visit. See if he knows anyone who might have it in for Sly.”

  “Green? Aw, dude, I love that guy.”

  “Of course you do.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I swung by Sly’s to check the address book he kept by the phone, got Green’s addy, and let Google Maps do the rest. Turned out Green lived with his mom. And he lived in the basement. Why would I have expected anything less?

  His mom had a condo off Hall Road in Sterling Heights, not far from Lakeside Mall. Nothing fancy, your basic four walls and a roof with two of those walls shared by your neighbors.

  His mom looked like she was in her mid-thirties, but that would have meant she had Green when she was around ten. The exercise bike and yoga ball tucked in one corner of the living room suggested she worked to stay fit. I felt I could safely add ten years to come close to her actual age.

  She answered the door in purple yoga pants and a tie-dyed t-shirt a couple sizes too big for her small frame. The collar hung off one tanned shoulder.

  “Wow,” Odi said when she opened the door. If he’d been standing next to me instead of a step behind, I would have elbowed him in the ribs.

  Green’s Mom smiled and winked at Odi.

  Oh, brother.

  I quickly introduced myself and Odi and asked for Green.

  She guided us down into the basement, said, “Have fun, kids,” then jogged back upstairs.

  I felt like I was fifteen all over again.

  The condo’s small basement was finished, the walls a clean white, though some of the tiles on the drop ceiling directly above a leather sofa had yellowed. Besides the sofa, the room had a TV with three different video game systems tucked in the stand underneath. A half dozen video game controllers sat in a pile on one end of the sofa. Another couple of remotes for the TV and the stereo system lay among them as well. He had the stereo set up for surround sound, with speakers mounted in all four corners of the room.

  A short hall led to what I assumed was a bathroom, but otherwise the space was a single room. Green had it set up like a studio apartment, his bed against the wall furthest from the stairs.

  Green lay on his back on the bed, snoring. A joint in an ashtray on his nightstand still smoldered. The whole room reeked of marijuana. A can of cheese balls sat pinned between Green’s arm and his side. The plastic lid lay on the floor. When I moved in close, I could see his fingertips coated with fake cheese. A streak of that same cheese ran across the front of his Red Wings jersey.

  There were only a few balls left in the can. I contemplated dropping one into Green’s gaping mouth. I wondered if he would eat it in his sleep.

  “Wow,” Odi said for the second time, his tone entirely different this time.

  “Wow is right,” I said.

  Odi bent down to peer into an orange lava lamp on an end table by the couch. He tapped the glass with a finger. “Groovy, man.”

  A sudden explosion of techno music thundered from above. Between frantic drum beats, I caught an insistent motivational voice common to the stars of workout videos advertised in infomercials. Then came the thump of sneakered feet hitting the floor in rhythm to the music.

  Mom was doing some late night cardio.

  I knew from Sly that Green’s father was out of the picture. I thought I suspected why. These two were a unique pair.

  But as I looked down at Green, it struck me that he didn’t know about Sly’s condition. As far as he knew, Sly was fine and still working to rebuild the shop. Green used to work for Sly at the shop, but after getting hit hard with the paranormal reality first hand, he spent less time around Sly. Couldn’t say as I blamed him.

  Now I felt bad about mentally poking fun at Green and his mom.

  I gave Green a gentle shove to rouse him.

  He blurted one last snore, then he opened his eyes and blinked at me standing over him. He worked his chubby mouth as if trying to speak without much control over his lips. He groaned something that might have been a couple words, but I couldn’t translate.

  “Green,” I said. “You need to wake up.”

  Odi stepped up beside me. Now we both looked down at Green in bed like a terminal patient on his death bed. Green seemed to get that same vibe. He scrunched up his face and scooted backward until he sat up with his back against the headboard.

  “Wha…?”

  “Snap out of it, dude,” Odi said.

  Green turned his gaze to Odi, and his eyes went wide. “Nuh, nuh, nuh-uh. No. You’re…”

  Odi waggled his eyebrows. “A vampire.” He said it with Bela Lagosi flair. “But I don’t vant to suck your bluuud.”

  That didn’t seem to comfort Green one bit. I shooed Odi away then leaned toward Green. “We need your help,” I said. “It’s about Sly.”

  Green squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head as if jostling the rocks out, then opened his eyes and
nodded. “You know where he is?”

  I felt my shoulders sag under two tons of I don’t wanna. Delivering bad news about a sick relative sucked. But I didn’t have time to pussy foot. “He’s in the hospital,” I said. “He’s damn sick.”

  “Sick from what?”

  “Magic.”

  He rubbed hard at his mouth and groaned softly against his palm. “I had a bad feeling. I knew…” He pointed a finger at me. “This is your fault. Has to be.”

  I stepped back to give him some space. “We don’t know what’s going on.”

  “I don’t care. You’ve brought Uncle Sly nuthin’ but shit. All this…” He waved his hands around. “This woowoo. He doesn’t need it.”

  I wrinkled my brow. “You know he’s an alchemist, right? All this woowoo,” I imitated his hand gestures, “is part of his life.”

  Green threw a deep-browed glare Odi’s way. “Vampires? He never had anything to do with vampires before. He just mixed weird stuff up.”

  “I thought you knew about the paranormal. Sly filled you in before you started working for him.”

  “Yeah, but…” He shook a fat finger at Odi. “Vampires!”

  “Hey, dude,” Odi said. “Chill.”

  Green’s reaction wasn’t irrational. Even if someone told you about the supernatural world among us, seeing it was a whole other deal. I needed him to get over it, though. Fast.

  I snapped my fingers in Green’s face to get his attention back on me. “Sly is dying,” I said. “Now, you can either whine about vampires and woowoo, or you can shut up and help us. Got it?”

  Green stared at me, mouth hanging open. Then he looked down. His can of cheeseballs had tipped over and spilled a few onto the bed. He picked one up, rolled it between his cheesy fingertips, then pinched it between thumb and index finger, crushing it to cheese dust.

  “What do you want?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Odi and Green sat on the sofa. I was too wired to sit. I paced.

  “You can’t think of anyone?” I asked.

  Green had a joint pinched between his fingers. He stared at the burning tip with bloodshot eyes. Slowly, she shook his head. “Nah, man. Except maybe vampires.”

  His vampire fixation had yet to let up. But at least he wasn’t freaking out about it anymore. I’m pretty sure the pot helped with that.

  “Sly’s never had a heated argument with anyone? Hasn’t pissed anybody off? Maybe one of his customers?”

  Green tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling as he sucked another hit off his joint. Odi watched him with some fascination. I thought he might want to try a toke. I wasn’t sure what kind of effect it would have on a vampire. I knew Toft used to keep himself buzzed on martinis. If alcohol worked in a vamp’s bloodstream, maybe pot would, too.

  But I didn’t need a high vampire on my hands. I squinted at him and shook my head.

  He held out his hands, a picture of innocence. “What?”

  I had stopped pacing without realizing. My legs itched to start again. I held fast and waited on an answer from Green.

  Green blew a few smoke rings, then said, “I already told you. I…” He raised his head and peered at me through the haze of smoke surrounding him. “Did you say something about a customer?”

  “I did.”

  He nodded slowly. “There was this dude.”

  I waited. He didn’t say anything else.

  “I need more than dude, Green.”

  His blurry gaze floated away to some distant place over my shoulder. “Super tall guy. Super skinny. Like a walking tree. He had all these tats on his arms and up his neck. Weird symbols, most of them.”

  I could think of a couple kinds of practitioners who used tattoos to fuel their magic. Weird symbols could mean runes or old religious icons. “They got in some kind of argument?”

  “Yeah. Sly said something like, ‘No can do,’ or, ‘No sir,’ or maybe both. I wasn’t really paying attention. I was behind the register.”

  And Green spent most of his time behind the register as high as the Goodyear Blimp during the Super Bowl. This made his info somewhat unreliable. But despite Green’s general dopiness, he wasn’t an idiot. I could probably trust the gist of his story, even if he got a few details wrong.

  “Anything else you remember?”

  Green started to bring his joint to his mouth and paused. “Sly took the guy in back. I heard them shouting. Yeah. I remember thinking I’d never heard Uncle Sly scream like that.”

  Sly was a mellow guy, but I’d heard him angry before. I knew he could shout just fine. But scream? Not so much.

  “Then the skinny guy comes flying out the back, and Sly shouts after him, ‘You make me sick.’ And the guy stops and is like, ready to punch my uncle. I thought they might actually throw down. But then the guy just stormed out.”

  You make me sick.

  A common phrase. But the choice of words felt significant. Or maybe I was trying to make something more out of pure coincidence.

  “Did Sly say anything to you about it?”

  “Naw, he went in back to fume, I think. When he came out later, it was like it never happened.”

  “When was this?”

  He made a distasteful face at his joint and set it in a skull shaped ashtray on the coffee table. By this point, the smell of the pot dominated the room. “Before the store got wrecked.” He turned his gaze to Odi. “By vampires.”

  “How long before?”

  He shrugged his meaty shoulders, blinked slowly. “Not long. No more than a week, I think.”

  That was still three months ago. Not exactly recent. Still, those words stuck with me.

  You make me sick.

  Had the skinny guy with the tats decided to work some magic and make Sly’s metaphorical sickness real?

  A buzz ran through me. I had a damn lead to follow. Maybe Mom was right. Sly hadn’t gotten sick after the Maidens used his piece of soul to help her. Maybe their current ritual was the real coincidence.

  “Is there anything else you can tell me about the guy? Any idea where he’s from or how Sly knows him?”

  “Nope.”

  I started to take a deep breath and choked on the weed smoke. The taste of it coated my mouth and clung at the back of my sinuses. So I had to think this through with less clean air than I would have liked. I started pacing again. “Tattoos,” I said.

  “Yep,” Green confirmed.

  “Real skinny.”

  “Super skinny. And tall.”

  “And tall.”

  I stopped pacing. “That’s a pretty good description.”

  Green smiled with half his mouth. “Thanks.”

  “Specific,” I said. I approached an idea I didn’t particularly like, but it could give me a chance to follow this lead. “Did you get any other kind of vibe from him?”

  Green frowned. “Like what?”

  “Did he give you the impression of someone who might have a criminal record?”

  His eyes shifted from side to side as he thought it over. “He seemed pretty badass for such a skinny guy. Could have been the tats. But, yeah, I guess so.”

  Odi stood, which made Green flinch as if he expected an attack. Odi rolled his eyes and turned to me. “You got something?”

  “Not anything for sure. But if this guy’s a practitioner and came into some trouble with the Ministry, I know someone who can help.”

  I pointed at Green. “Get your coat. We’re going for a trip.”

  Green squinted at his watch. “It’s eleven o’ clock at night.”

  I had gotten so used to my flipped circadian rhythm to accommodate Odi, I sometimes forgot not everybody else shared the same schedule. “We’ll grab you a few Red Bulls on the way. Come on.”

  He groaned and slowly rose from the couch. “Where are we going?” he whined.

  “We’re going to the police.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Besides the headquarters in the Renaissance Center, the Detroit Mi
nistry branch had various satellite offices tucked in and around the city. Among these were law enforcement departments covering their assigned districts, staffed by Ministry guardians, the paranormal world’s police officers.

  As a hunter, I had, on occasion, tapped into the guardians’ resources for help tracking bounties, especially the ones with previous charges. A rap sheet could offer a lot of clues if you knew what to look for. My particular contact worked out of the Royal Oak district on Woodward Avenue. It had been a couple years since I last hit him up, so I hoped he still worked in their investigative division. My recent experiences with the Ministry made me hesitant to try connecting with a new source in the department. I was nervous enough heading in there. For all I knew, the conspirators I had thwarted last year had eyes among the guardians. I really didn’t want those eyes on me.

  The building looked like any standard office complex, flanked by a trendy thrift shop and a fitness center. It stood three stories high and had plate glass windows all the way around, tinted to hide the goings on inside. There wasn’t any sign naming the place except for the address numbers above the front entrance. A narrow drive on the fitness center’s side led to the small parking lot in back.

  At close to midnight, the building looked deserted, as it should have. But I knew it was a complex glamour hiding the twenty-four hour bustle within.

  We pulled into the seemingly empty lot, and I took a spot close to the back entrance. Snow covered the asphalt, so I couldn’t see the yellow lines. I took my best guess. I told Odi to stay with the car and took Green with me.

  When I got out of the car, the cold air hit my lungs and made my chest ache. The freezer smell of winter made my nostrils tingle. My breath came out in thick plumes.

  A couple of post lights kept the lot illuminated even after hours. The falling snow looked ethereal in the bluish phosphorescent glow. Between that and the silence, the moment had a surreal sense about it. I felt like I could have been dreaming.

  I wished I was dreaming.

  I led Green along the short approach to the back entrance, not really paying attention to him because my mind was on what I was going to say once we were inside.

  “Holy shit,” he cried.