Shades of Red

by T L Christianson

I kept my coat on as the punk girl unwound her black scarf and pulled off her bright pink leather jacket. “Okay,” Clem sighed, while flipping switches and watching screens.

  “You have cameras around the building?” I asked, watching the black and white hallway, entryway and interior door flip through a rotation on a top monitor.

  Cocking her head, a corner of her mouth turned up. “Oh Hazel, you moroi are so cute when you’re innocent.” She laughed at me, and I smiled.

  “Why the security?”

  “Well, if you hadn’t noticed, this isn’t exactly the Ritz.” Biting her lip, she typed rapidly on the keyboard. “I sometimes bring work stuff home, and I can’t let anything Chronos fall into the wrong hands. Freddie would kill me.”

  I nodded, trying to look out the window. The mini-blinds were closed tightly and covered with a thick fur coat of dust.

  “Okay, give me the drive you told me about.”

  I held out the little Lego man and placed it into her open palm.

  Focusing my will on her, I said in a beguiling voice, “You aren’t going to talk about this. It never happened…”

  She cut me off. “Hazel, cut the crap. You guys’ mumbo jumbo doesn’t work on me.” Crinkles formed around her heavily black lined eyes. “Do you think I’d be able to work at a place like Chronos if I didn’t have any natural abilities?” She snorted out a laugh and plugged in the Lego man. “But don’t worry, mum’s the word.”

  When the icon popped up, her lips curved into a sardonic smile. “Chronos’ misdeeds? Ha! Indeed.” The last word she said in a falsetto British accent. “Where did this come from?”

  Our gazes locked. “This is serious. This goes no further than you and I. Something is going on and I need to figure it out to put a stop to it. If there’s an actual threat, I’ll go to Aurev or Iggie.”

  The smile wiped off her face, she nodded.

  “A woman gave it to me in Denmark.”

  She raised her eyebrows, “Well, that makes sense. Aren’t Legos from Denmark?”

  I shrugged.

  Settling myself down onto the arm of the nearby sofa, I half leaned, half sat.

  “Why didn’t you open it? Viruses?” Clem went back to work tapping into her computer. “Okay, I’ve isolated it.” Turning to me, she said, “Want to check it out?”

  I nodded, and she clicked. A box opened with three file folders:

  Human DNA Manipulation

  The Butcher

  Emilie Edwards

  What did Emilie have to do with everything?

  Somewhere in the back of my brain, the pieces of a puzzle began to come together, and I didn’t like the picture they were forming.

  The punk girl clicked on the first file: Human DNA manipulation. The first was a document labeled ‘Crispr Cas 12, Viral Manipulation.’

  Clem clicked on it.

  Leaning over her shoulder, I took the mouse and began to scroll through the first few pages. “I can guess what this means, but I need to take it to Sarah.”

  “Oh yeah, the virologist. I met her when she brought stuff back from South Africa.”

  I nodded, then closed the doc and clicked on the next file icon. Pictures populated this one, and I began to click on each, shaking my head.

  “What does this mean?” Clem asked, leaning back and shoving a handful of sunflower seeds into her mouth.

  “I don’t know, but I sure hope the rest of the files give us better answers.”

  The pictures were of a small clinic on a narrow old street. “These are labeled with an address in Italy.”

  She nodded and read, “Dottori Seals—Doctor Seals. Looks like some type of research lab,” Clementine clicked through the photos of the inside and outside of the building.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, questions tugging at me.

  “Dr. Mary Seals is one of the top geneticists and DNA experts in the world. This is where I sent Sarah; Dr. Seals edited her children’s DNA. Sarah had Huntington’s Disease and the doctor said she could edit it out. What if she’s done more than that?”

  Pursing my lips, I recognized Dr. Seals in one of the photos along with a dark-haired man and woman wearing a scarf around her hair.

  “Look, it’s labeled 1980.”

  Skimming through the rest, I stopped when recognition hit me like a lead brick. The blood drained from my face.

  I said, “I know them, that’s Jon and Elsbet Smith, Aurev’s personal assistant.”

  The techie screwed up her face. “Huh…She’s an old vampire…I heard she was made in the seventeen-hundreds.”

  “How do you know so much?” Then shaking my head, I said, “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

  “Shit. What is this?” Clem zoomed in on a few new photos. “Oh my god! This is virus DNA editing. Oh my god!” She ran her hands through her short purple, pink and blue hair.

  I studied the labeled photos. “This isn’t good.” I began to pace the room. “I mean, editing out a life-threatening disease is one thing, but editing a virus to make it more deadly? Why? For what purpose? For what reason?”

  I looked up to see the heading of another file: Bennett Children.

  My breath sped up, and my pulse raced. I held up a hand.

  “Don’t. Don’t click on it. I need to take this to Sarah…maybe Dr. Khatri. I don’t know.” I sunk into the couch, my head in my hands. My hair hung down around my face.

  If Elsbet was there, did that mean Aurev ordered this?

  When I finally sat up, the girl met my gaze.

  “You can trust me.” She said. “I love my job, but if shit is going down between moroi Clans, I want nothing to do with it.”

  “Can you keep all this to yourself?” I asked sternly.

  Nodding, she turned back to the computer and motioned me back. “Look, I don’t want to know anything else. I don’t want to be involved.” She ejected the Lego drive and pressed it into my hand. “It doesn’t have any viruses.” She shook her head. “Your laptop is hooked up to the Chronos server. Whatever you do, DO NOT open this from your own computer or it’ll upload to the company server.” Then she muttered, “Or worse.” Chewing her thumbnail, she continued, “Make sure you aren’t connected to any server or wifi, and you should be okay.”

  “Why?” I asked, shaking my head.

  “Please. Freddie has promised to turn me. I don’t want to risk it.” Her gaze steady, she stood and opened the apartment door.

  Standing in the doorway, I pinned her with my hazel eyes. “I’m taking you at your word. I’m trying to protect Chronos, but I have to figure out what’s going on first.”

  There was a bit of fear in her eyes. “Why should I believe you? You don’t work for Chronos anymore.”

  A sardonic smile crossed my lips, “No, Clementine. I’ll ALWAYS belong to Chronos. There’s no escape, for me…or you.”

  “Why are you leaving then?”

  I laughed, “I think because of this!” I held up the Lego keychain, “So, I have to get to the bottom of whatever’s going on.”

  She nodded. “Good luck.”

  I turned before she even closed the door.

  I decided to walk instead of taking the subway. The black sky hung menacingly above me, while snowflakes gently drifted to the sidewalk where they liquefied.

  I passed a small computer store next to a massage parlor with a sign that read, Back Feet rub 24/7, 8am to 10pm along with a sign in Korean.

  I’d pass on the Back and Foot rub, but I needed a new computer. The tech shop was narrow, no more than ten or eleven feet wide with MacBooks displayed atop white Ikea tables against one wall. I followed them down to the counter where a man finished up with a customer and gave her a small bag and receipt.

  “Here to drop off or pick up?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Are you here for a repair?”

  I smiled, “Actually no. I need a computer.” Motioning to the variety along the wall, “The cheapest one wi
ll work.”

  “Okay, I’ve got some refurbished models…”

  “No.” I interrupted him. “I want one straight from the box.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Pulling the computer out of its white packaging, I took my time setting it up before inserting the thumb drive. I didn’t put any personal identifying information on the new laptop—just in case.

  As soon as the icon showed up on the screen, hesitation stilled my fingers.

  Was I ready to learn the contents of this disk?

  There were three main folders.

  My arrow hovered over the DNA then the The Butcher folder before I decided to see what information they’d have on Emilie.

  Disappointment filled me once the window popped open. It contained only a handful of photos, and that was it.

  The first image had been scanned from an old black and white photo. Emilie stood with two other women in their Red Cross uniforms. They smiled, and their relaxed demeanor made me think this had been taken before they’d begun their duties for the war effort.

  Emilie’s crisp tie and quaint hat were that of an ambulance driver. Her frizzy blond curls lacked the modern products that allowed her chic, smooth look she had now.

  The next photo showed an ambulance on its side in a ditch. Then one of it being winched out of the muck. I sighed and examined both pictures on my screen.

  Poor Emilie, she’d been turned that fateful night in 1916. While driving back to the hospital from the front line, she’d been attacked. A blood starved moroi had been part of her cargo. He’d drank from her, fed her a little blood and left her to either die or heal.

  Instead of healing, Emilie had been turned. She’d lived over a hundred years without knowing what she really was.

  She’d always called us vampires. Her words made most moroi raise our brows or snicker behind her back. She’d been a strange one. Had her solitary life made her unusual or was it because of her maker?

  Flipping through the pictures, I saw a few of Emilie in what was obviously New York City. Another was dated 1998 of her near the beach with another woman. The last photo took place in Colorado—she sat leaning against a tree reading to Owen and Sarah’s two children, Becca and Jack.

  Emilie began as Owen’s live-in nanny for them about a year ago. She and Owen had formed a relationship and now were engaged to be married.

  “Who took this picture?” I asked the screen. What good is evidence if it’s not linked to anyone? Was this all a wild goose chase?

  “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire,” I muttered. “So, Aurev,” I said to myself, “Where is the fire? Why is there so much smoke?”

  How were the three files connected from the Lego drive?

  Who was Karsten protecting when he tried to take the blame for creating Emilie?

  Instead of answering more questions for me, this drive was creating more.

  I called Forest and asked him to meet me at a nearby restaurant.

  Entering the diner, I spotted the PI in full drag across the room, legs crossed elegantly and toe tapping.

  Her blond hair swept my face as I leaned in for a hug.

  "Let me guess, Time Square or the club?" I asked.

  She nodded and clicked her tongue. "It the club today, honey."

  Taking my seat, I hesitated, could I trust her? Forest was the best private investigator I’d ever met, but she also worked for Chronos. I had no choice—If I were to figure anything out, I would need help.

  After exchanging a few pleasantries, I got down to business. “What did you contact me about? Aurev? Chronos. We’re on the same side.”

  She gave me a strange look. “Dead ass. Let’s hope so.”

  I continued, “You’ve been keeping something from me, I’m guessing you want to talk now.”

  Her mahogany eyes took me in, “Hazel, slow down girl. I said I gots somethin’ but...”

  “What do you know about Aurev sending me away? Is that what your cryptic message was about?”

  Her eyes roamed the room before she spoke, “Honey, I don’t know shit about that.” Forest's lips seemed suspiciously pursed.

  “But it’s unusual, isn’t it? I’ve never seen or heard of anyone taking a sabbatical. Have you?”

  Shaking her head. “Nah, you ain’t crazy. But what of it?” Sighing, she leaned back in the booth, crossing her legs. “Since this ‘Butcher’ come along, Aurev been…I don’t know...up tight.”

  I sucked in a breath to speak, but she held a hand up to stop me.

  “Look, I gots mad respect for yo’ spicy mans. He do a hell o' good for humans and moroi, but that don’t mean shit. Maybe he changin', or maybe he be living just too damn long. I don’t know.”

  Something seemed off with my PI, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

  “I’m trying to figure out if he has any connection to Emilie Edwards.”

  Her voice went a few octaves higher than usual, “Emilie? That bitch? I don’t know nothin’.” She said her name like 'Em-lee.'

  Raising an eyebrow, I spoke barely above a whisper, “Don’t lie to me.”

  “Aw shit! You the human lie detector! Well, ha-yell!” She frowned and leaned toward me. “You know I won't never, ever tell that mofo’s bisnatch to anyone but yourself, but yeah, he be watchin’ Emilie. He be watchin’ her fo’ a long ass time, before I even got turned.”

  “What?” I asked. “Why?”

  She shrugged, “Don’t know. Soon as she move in with that sexy doctor man—mission over for me and my crew.”

  Puzzle pieces began to click in my mind.

  If one of Aurev’s offspring made Emilie, why all the cloak and dagger? What about Elizabeth, the woman whose identity Emilie took?

  I pulled the laptop out of my bag and typed in the password before handing the thing over to Forest.

  “I was given this thumb drive. Shortly after that, Aurev kills me off and sends me away.”

  “Shit,” she muttered, clicking through the files. "Girl, you gots to stop all this Nancy Drew 'n shit. Go get it on with that sexy man o’ yours."

  “My sexy man?” I laughed until she clicked on the second file. “Oooh! Don’t open the Butcher File. It’s only pictures of the victims.”

  Of course, she didn’t listen to me but went straight to it. Her eyebrows shot up, then she squinted. Clicking between images.

  We sat there for several moments, she looking through the gruesome photos while sipping her soda and me, nursing a glass of white wine and playing solitaire on my phone.

  When her gaze met mine, a smile quirked the corner of her mouth. “You see these? I mean all of them? Really—look at them.”

  I scoffed, “No. I can’t.”

  “Oh… yeah, you don’t like the sight of blood. Girl, how’d you become a damn vampire?” She teased.

  “What do you see?”

  “You needs to get that Colorado Doctor to look this shit over.”

  “Owen, why Owen? Why not Sarah?”

  She smirked, “Karsten made by Aurev, same as you. Those two beefcakes is thick as thieves. Nah, what Sarah know, Karsten find out.”

  Blinking rapidly, I let out a shaky breath. “What? Karsten was sired by Aurev? Shit...”

  Forest nodded, “Yeah, someone in Chronos make Emilie. We gon' all be accused of making her.”

  “Oh my God. It could’ve been anyone! Anyone we know could’ve created her.” I gulped down my wine, before motioning for another glass from our waiter. “Karsten knows who created Emilie. I thought it was someone from his Denmark Clan. But by moroi blood, he’s Chronos.”

  “He old as shit too.”

  “Karsten?”

  “Hells yeah. He made in like the thirteenth or fourteenth century.” Forest breathed out a silent laugh. “Yep, Emilie coulda been made by anyone in Chronos.”

  My new glass was set down in front of me, and I sipped it.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t know this. How did I not know this?” I straightened, “Wait a minute, how do you
know this?”

  “You didn't need to know. I did. Remember when I researched his background?” I nodded. “Yep, and he in the Chronos database.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have clearance to see his file.”

  “Puh-leeze girl, that didn't stop me, 'specially when I know what Freddie likes.”

  I rolled my eyes. “So that means that you know who made Emilie?”

  She wagged a ringed finger at me and laughed loudly, “I didn’t say that. It a one-time thing and I ain't had access since.”

  “Okay, so wait, where were we? You think I can’t trust Karsten? Why?”

  “If Aurev up to something, chances are Karsten’s in on it. Hell, I’d think you’d be in on it.”

  I swallowed gulps of my wine before smirking. “Me too. But I’m not going to take a bunch of accusations to Aurev without proof and….I don’t know. Besides, I’m fired right now.”

  “Now, now Hazel. You know you ain’t fired.” She hesitated. “Shit! I shouldn’t be talking to you. Y’all slip me some truth serum?”

  “There really isn’t such a thing,” I told her.

  “Anyhow, Aurev, he in love with you. Straight up.”

  This got my attention. “What?”

  “Well, it a guess. Y’all know how he is? Y’all is the only one that can barge straight into his office. The rest o’ us have to wait for days, like we peasants or something.”

  I ran my finger around the crescent moon that my water glass had made on the table cloth.

  Aurev? In love with me?

  Shaking my head, I disregarded it. “No, we’re just close. That’s all it is.”

  Her eyebrows raised, she made a duck face expression at me. “Puh-lease girl. You can fuckin' lie to me, but fo-sho don't be lying to your motha-fucken self.”

  “I swear to God Forest! You are the master of distraction! What did you see in the photos?”

  She straightened and patted the booth next to her.

  Hustling around, glad for the high wooden screens between tables, I turned the screen away from others. The ghastly images were not something I wanted to flash in a busy restaurant.

  “Uh…what?” I asked, examining the photos.

  “Look.” Forest said, flipping back and forth through all the victim pictures from Amy. “She for sho’ a murderer ho. But she ain’t made no virus.”