The Relic Box Set

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The Relic Box Set Page 7

by Ben Zackheim


  “Well, no…” Fox said.

  “Why not? I’m the secret sauce!”

  “Vampires know you, Kane, because they know what you’re up to. They know that you’re the main threat to their plans to retake the treasures they left behind a thousand years ago. They think your failures are amusing, which makes you extra special to our kind. We like to be amused.”

  Rebel growled. Neither of us liked to be entertainment while sacrificing so much. Still, I had suspected this was the way the vampires saw us. Our success with Excalibur had clearly made them take us seriously.

  “So why do you want to keep Excalibur out of your own people’s hands?” I asked.

  “Because we can’t be trusted with it. It’s too powerful. It’s a short-cut to the end of the world. Not something human or vampire should want.”

  “I don’t know,” Rebel said, chewing on an apple. “Doesn’t sound like such a bad thing when I see some of the bumper stickers riding around out there. Maybe it’s time we all called it quits.”

  “How can it destroy the world?” I asked, ignoring her. “It’s just a sword.”

  He shook his head. “It’s Excalibur. Armies have bowed to it and…”

  He stopped. Now we were getting somewhere. I pounced.”And what?”

  He struggled to keep eye contact with me. “The sword is filled with rage. Thousands of years of pent up rage. Its power is like the atom.”

  “What’s that mean?” Rose asked. She always wanted to talk science.

  “When scientists first split the atom they took an educated guess that the explosion would not destroy the entire planet. Excalibur is the equivalent in the world of magic.”

  “So what’s your plan?” I asked.

  He wiped the debris off of my favorite leather chair. He leaned back and laced his long fingers together. “First, we need to do a little traveling. A lot of traveling, actually.”

  “I love traveling!” Cassidy said, suddenly appearing at the top of a pile of debris at the library’s other entrance. He hopped down and landed with sneaker-slapping enthusiasm. “Where are we going? Who are you guys?” He spotted the demon. “Whoah! That’s a big guy! Hey! Those are my hot dogs!”

  “Hong Kong,” Fox said. “China. Then Tibet.”

  “China?” I asked. “Why China?”

  “I keep telling you. Because that’s where we can hide the sword.”

  “What’s there that could hide the sword better than I could right here?”

  He leaned forward in the chair with a smirk. “Are we partners, then?”

  I thought about it. I was leaning toward yes. I didn’t want my house to be under constant attack. I looked at Rebel. “What do you think?”

  “I think he’s beautiful and I want to kill him,” she said, looking him up and down.

  “About the idea of partnering with him, Rebel. I was asking your brain, not your hormones.”

  “My hormones aren’t talking to any of you,” she said. “If they were, you’d all be dead.”

  Fox’s face shifted from cocky to worried for his unlife.

  Rebel sighed and studied him, foot to hair, or what there was of it. “I think he’s beautiful but I want to kill him. So let’s do it. Should be fun.”

  “Hong Kong!” Cassidy yelled.

  “Tibet! Rose yelled. “But I still don’t understand why no one knows about me!”

  Chapter 17

  The flight to California was the last uneventful five hours I’d get in weeks.

  Maybe months.

  Okay, years.

  Fox flew in the cargo hold, which is like First Class at twice the price and none of the luxuries. The plan didn’t include his demon, Belch. We had to tolerate lots of his hellspawn sad-faces and demon tantrums before we talked him into laying low in my estate’s forest. Darkwood was the perfect vacation spot for a demon.

  “We should dump the vamp into the L.A. Tar Pit,” Rebel said as we drove to the hotel. “See if he can get out.”

  Rose gasped. “He’s got as much of a right to be alive as you do, Rebel!”

  “He’s not alive,” Rebel muttered. She was in the front seat of the van, feet dangling out the window. Apparently, she had nice feet because she got a lot of cat-calls from the women, and questions about her pedicures from the men.

  We were definitely in L.A.

  “Can you talk to him?” Rose asked, angrily. “Can you make eye contact with him? Can he hug you back?” She was trying to blow us away with her deep thoughts.

  “Wait,” Rebel cut in. “Where are you going with this, exactly?”

  “I’m just saying that he acts alive and that should be good enough, is all.”

  “I agree with Rose,” Cassidy said.

  “Oh, you agree with her, huh?” Rebel snapped. “And do you think the vampires give you the same benefit of the doubt? You think they’d show you any mercy if they had you alone? Keep that in mind with your holier than thou opinion of the unholy.”

  “Jeez, okay, fine,” Rose said. “No need to blow a hole in your hat.”

  Rebel looked at me with a what-the-fuck-is-she-talking-about face.

  I shrugged. “I’m staying out of this. You started it.”

  Rebel went back to chewing on her toothpick. By the time we reached Hotel SM she’d chomped her way through the whole thing. She threw the wet wooden remains on the floor and beckoned for the bellboys to help with the casket in the back.

  She smacked the coffin. “This undead bloke here is Samantha Allie Alistair…” She got stuck on the last name.

  “Alzheimer,” Cassidy said, getting in on the joke.

  “Alzheimer,” Rebel finished. “Please lay out your finest ‘For Her’ gift basket so she can know how much we love her when she wakes up.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” the bellboy said, taking a twenty out of her hand. He grabbed it quickly, like he was petting a snake. Smart kid. He didn’t want to have anything to do with those long fingernails.

  ❖

  The four of us sat in the hotel’s cocktail lounge, sans Fox. The place was lit like only L.A. cocktail clubs can be lit, with purples and pinks mixing it up and yet somehow getting along. California magic, maybe. We were in the middle of saying absolutely nothing to each other when the vampire made his grand entrance. He was in modern vampire standards — black suit, white shirt, shiny shoes. But he’d added a wristwatch to the repertoire. Expensive one, too. A Breguet Black Skeleton Dial.

  “I like it here,” Fox said, as he slipped into the booth while studying the lounge. The circular room’s colored lights threw glows in just the right spots. Six hanging cages with muted black iron bars dangled around the perimeter. The men and women inside the cages were covered in blue makeup and decked out in matching blue suits. They were dancing. Or something. It was a lazy movement, calming in its slow pace.

  “Something going down tonight?” I asked Fox, breaking my eyes away from the blue people.

  He glanced at me with his lazy gaze. “Why do you ask?”

  I pointed to his wristwatch. “You need to know the time all of a sudden.”

  “I get it,” he said. “You’re a detective, too, Kane Arkwright.”

  “Just keeping my eyes open. Can never be too careful.”

  “Yes, I have a date tonight. Just an old Hollywood friend.”

  “I see.” And I did. I looked for someone young and sitting alone when I spotted a guy donning a Nervously Waiting To Get My Neck Bit demeanor.

  “That him?” I asked, pointing to the young man. I’d bet Excalibur he was an actor by day.

  Fox glanced over, pulled out his cell phone, swiped right and smiled. “Yup, that’s him.”

  “An old friend, huh?” I repeated.

  Fox shrugged as he stood up. “So, we’ll leave here at 3am for Belmont Veterans Pier.”

  “What’s there?” Rose asked him, leaning forward, hoping she’d catch Fox sneaking a peek at her breasts.

  “A pier,” he said. We all waited for the punchline. �
��And a boat.”

  “Why are we going by boat?” Cassidy asked. He sipped his Shirley Temple through a thin straw. The twins weren’t allowed to drink yet. They were dangerous enough without booze in them.

  Fox fixed his cuffs. “Because they won’t be watching the boats,” he said. “Or it’s less likely, at least. I’m assuming they know I’m up to something by now. They won’t know what, though. I’m known for my impatience and nothing requires more patience than taking a boat across the ocean.”

  The lounge music ramped up. It was 9pm. Happy Hour was over and it was time for the big spenders to get their entertainment. Fox seemed to float on his feet toward his date. The dancers started moving in ways that more closely resembled dancing as opposed to exhausted posing. I raised my glass to our pretty waitress who spotted me and smiled.

  Rebel leaned toward me and whispered, “She wants your 3% tip.”

  The loud music made it hard to think but I didn't feel like thinking much anyway. The room started filling with people who didn't have anyone with them, followed by a steady flow of couples and small parties. After a fe minutes, I noticed Fox eyeing his watch. He was either hungry, or horny, or whatever vampires get. I’d heard they didn’t really know the difference between sex and food.

  I know a lot of humans like that too.

  The beat was getting faster and the bass lower. I could feel the music in my gut, climbing up my spine. Its rhythm was hypnotic. I started to feel sleepy even as my head was pounding from the noise. When the rumbling reached the back of my eyes I fell asleep. I had a quick dream about a hammer striking melted steel. It sounded like a weapon was being crafted.

  I woke up to the jarring sound of the cages’ doors swinging open. The metal clang of the doors was the noise that had fed into my dream.

  Groggily, I looked around my table. Rose was asleep. Rebel’s eyelids fluttered as she tried to fight off the darkness.

  Even in my hazy state of mind, I realized our drinks had been spiked.

  Fox ran at us, leaping over the patrons. Some of the humans realized we were under attack by vampires and trampled over each other for the exit.

  The ones who didn't realize the danger died fast.

  Through my foggy brain, I realized that the dancers were springing from their cages and sprinting at us.

  Mouths open. Fangs drawn.

  Chapter 18

  People were getting massacred to a deep beat.

  Fox did an admirable job of getting out in front of the closest vamps, messing up their momentum. He wanted to save us, but he also ended up saving a whole bunch of bystanders in the process. If I lived through the fight I’d be sure to remind him of that. Vampires hate being the hero.

  I tried hard to stand up, but I wasn’t doing a very good job. From the looks of it, Cassidy and Rose were still out cold. Rebel was standing and she was in her fighting stance. But I noticed her swoon just a bit. Her feet weren’t under her yet. If I could buy my partner a few seconds to collect herself I knew we all had a better chance of getting out of there alive.

  I reached for my Glocks, snapped in snug inside my back holster, just above my waist. I had them custom-made so both of them sat holstered in the same direction. I did this because Skyler forced me to learn how to draw them both with one hand, in one try. It’s not easy but it frees up the left hand to block, hit or throw the middle finger in that split-second before it catches the second pistol. This time I pulled both Glocks out and only palmed one. The other one sailed through the air to…

  “Rebel!” I yelled.

  She lifted her hand instinctively and snagged the pistol in one beautiful movement.

  I got off a few shots at the close targets. Three dropped to the floor from head shots. I was using standard ammo so I could only slow them down. But head shots would bring them to their knees, especially if I could take an eye out.

  I tagged a hemogoblin in the shoulder. He recovered fast and leapt at me, shoved me down and snapped his jaws my neck. I managed to get a good look at the un-handsome lad, with his slicked-back hair and…

  Shit.

  His skin had a blue tint.

  We were up against Blues.

  In a split second, I managed a Spine Out — Rebel’s favorite Gun Fu move. One shot under the navel to stun, one in the chest to incapacitate and one in the neck to paralyze. Though with vamps and werewolves the paralyzing part only lasted for a minute, max.

  The Blue was laid out at my feet. I’d never seen one before. I’d studied them under Skyler’s dickhead tutelage, but they were a rare, nasty breed of vampires with a taste for, well, anything that moved.

  Cows, wolves, whales, leeches.

  It didn’t matter to them.

  The consequence of feeding from a wide variety of blood was a blue tint to the skin. The bigger problem was that Lin were rumored to be stronger than your average vampire. That didn’t bode well for us because an average vampire could shove a car on its side with no problem.

  I had a moment to assess the situation in the bar, and noticed that Rebel’s poise had straightened. She fired off a couple of shots. Without aiming. As usual.

  She was just hopeless with a gun.

  Still, she managed to hit two Blues square-center. Rebel was back. I relaxed a little.

  I lifted my gun and took careful aim at anything blue that moved.

  I managed to take down one more of the things. I counted five more still standing. They started to make a circle around us by stalking sideways.

  “Any ideas?” I yelled out to Fox.

  But he was a little busy.

  One of the Blues had pinned him to the floor and squatted on his chest. The thing was trying to stick his fingers down Fox’s throat to pull his heart out — a favorite move among Chinese vampires.

  I whistled loud enough to hurt even my own ears. That got their attention. The Blue hopped off of Fox and joined a couple of his comrades as they charged at me full-sprint, saliva flying. It was no fun to be in their way at feeding time, but it appeared they were easily distracted. Rebel picked up on this clue and let out a screeching whistle of her own. One of the charging vampires peeled away and lunged toward her.

  Fox tried to whistle, but whistling isn’t really a vampire thing. He settled for grabbing hold of one of their ankles as it sprinted past him. He yanked the Blue off his feet, pulled a fist back as far as it would go, and stuck his hand through the Blue’s chest.

  I guess that was a favorite move of his. He’d done it to the vamp leader back at my house, too.

  It sure did make a mess, though. Everyone in the room got a little chunk of Blue on them from that little maneuver.

  I managed to get to my feet just as a vamp knocked me back down. He smirked. His fangs emerged from their hiding place behind his lips, as if his gums were giving birth to a set of pearly white twins.

  Would the end come in a third-rate L.A. lounge on the razor tips of a beetle-eating, slug-sucking Blue?

  Worse ways to go.

  In the face of death, the cloud lifted. I started thinking straight. Good old adrenaline.

  I grabbed the Blue by the throat and, for the first time in a long time, I showed the world why I was Skyler’s top student.

  I showed them all what I could do.

  Chapter 19

  I’m not a show off.

  Show offs don’t know what they’re doing. I know what I’m good at and I know what I suck at.

  I can shoot and I can throw. Hand-to-hand? That was was Rebel’s turf.

  The Blue could feel my strength coming back and made to head butt me. I saw it coming, and straight-armed his forehead. I got one hand under his chin and the other behind his head and snapped his neck.

  Hey, I never said I couldn’t get lucky in hand-to-hand.

  The last two Blues heard the sound and turned their attention from Fox and Rebel to me. The sound of a snapping neck has a certain call-of-the-wild quality to it. It’s an unmistakable sound, even if you’ve never heard it before. Ki
nd of how the nose can always tell when human flesh is burning. When you smell it you just know someone went out BBQ-style.

  Both Blues snarled in unison and jumped over the mess that was once the bar. They pushed off the rubble with both arms and legs, like animals who smell death.

  And they did.

  Their own.

  They entered striking distance at the same time. I spotted the lines in the air.

  This is what I’m good at. I can see lines in the air, the same way a billiards player can see the lines on the green felt before he takes a shot. I could see the Blue’s trajectory. I could see where they would land, where their balance would be when they did and how I could interrupt their movement with maximum effect.

  I’d learned from Skyler that if I follow those lines, I win. Every time. If I second-guess it, I die.

  They were mid-air, reaching for me. Mouths open. Fangs out. I had to choose between shooting or ducking.

  Shooting won.

  I grabbed the Glock from the floor and placed my handgun right in the spot where one Blue’s mouth would end up in .005 seconds.

  He landed with a Glock between his teeth, while I stepped away from the second Blue.

  I pulled the trigger and made one Blue go all red.

  The other one crashed into the table behind me where the twins were still sleeping like babies. The Blue sniffed at them as he turned. He could have used them as leverage.

  But he was an idiot.

  He came at me a second time.

  I stepped aside again, with my gun pointed at the floor where his left foot would land.

  I squeezed the trigger as his foot entered my bullseye. It exploded in a mess of colors.

  His scream of pain and anger was cut short by my next and last shot.

  “I love it when you do that,” Rebel said, smiling.

  “Impressive,” Fox said, nodding.

  I stood, exhausted, and tried to focus. “That all of them?”

  Fox glanced around. “Yes, but some of them will recover soon.”

  “Lins, right?” I asked.

 

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