by N. P. Martin
“I’m not going to die. Don’t worry about it.”
“My mom says you’ll get what’s coming to you someday. I told her to shut up.”
A slight smile appeared on my face. “I’ll see you later, Daisy.”
“Later, Ethan.”
I watched her go as she turned around and went back into her apartment.
“Cute kid,” Scarlet said when I went back inside. “Seems old for her age.”
“She’s been through a lot.”
“Haven’t we all?”
Looking into her green eyes, I glimpsed pain in them; pain that wasn’t anything to do with her missing sister, but a more profound pain. That pain we all carry around with us; the pain of past traumatic experiences, causing me to wonder what hers were. You didn’t just wake up one day and decide to become an assassin. Something had pushed her into it. I was sure I would find out what at some point, but for now my only concern was the three bodies in my apartment.
Taking out my phone, I called Walker, who answered straight away. “You on your way?” she asked.
“No, not yet,” I told her. “I’ve hit a complication.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll explain later. Just do me a favor, will you? Check with dispatch if there have been any reports of gunshots in my building.”
“Gunshots? Are you okay, Ethan? Do you need me to come over?”
I looked over at Scarlet, who was busy checking out the few framed photos I had sitting on shelves that also held my vinyl record collection. “I’m fine. Just check for me.”
“Gimme a minute.”
While I waited on Walker, I stared at Scarlet as she stood with a photo in her hand, the only photo I had of me, Callie and Angela together as a family. She appeared to spend a long time staring at it. Was she judging me? Blaming me for what I’d lost? If so, she could—
“Ethan?” Walker said.
“Yeah?”
“Nothing’s come in. No one has reported any gunshots.”
“You’re sure?”
“I just spoke with dispatch. I’m positive.”
Relief washed over me as I realized I wouldn’t have to try to explain what happened here. Nor would I have to waste a large amount of time that I didn’t have filling out endless paperwork. “Okay, thanks, Walker,” I said. “I’m going to be a little while longer getting to the precinct. Start without me if you want.”
“It’s fine. The girl is still with the doctor, anyway.”
“Alright, see you in a while then.”
Before she hung up, she said, “Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Can you stop calling me Walker and use my first name from now on?”
“Eh, sure, okay. Hannah.”
“Thank you, Ethan. I’ll see you soon.”
After shaking my head at the phone, I put it in my pocket and looked over at Scarlet, who had finished looking through my stuff it seemed. “We’re in the clear,” I said.
“You mean you are,” she said, raising her eyebrows at me. “What are you going to do with the bodies?”
“I have an idea,” I said as I telepathically contacted Scroteface.
Yeah, boss?
I need you back here. There’s cleaning up to do.
I don’t think the mouthy Hellicorn has finished eating yet.
Tell him there’s more food here if he wants it.
More food, boss?
Just get back here.
While I waited on the Hellbastards getting back, I hit the shower and stayed there under the hot water for a good twenty minutes, rinsing all the blood off me, staring at the crimson water as it spiraled down the drain like so much wasted life.
I emerged from the shower refreshed, glad to have washed the accumulated filth from my body. When I dried off, I walked into the living room naked, forgetting for a second that Scarlet was still there. She froze when she saw me, her green eyes looking me over, no doubt taking in the dozens of scars on my body, and the dark tattoos on my arms, shoulders and back. It was hard to tell what she was thinking as she openly stared for a further moment before turning around. “You don’t have towels?” she asked with her back to me now.
“I forgot you were here,” I said, heading to the bedroom where most of my clothes were.
“I’m sure.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I got better things to think about.”
“Like being a dick?” She turned around, her eyes on mine this time as I paused by the bedroom door and shook my head at her before going inside.
Prior to getting dressed, I went to the shelves where I kept all my medicinal ingredients and selected a jar that contained a dirty yellowish ointment—my go-to healing ointment, made from mostly natural ingredients, but enhanced with demon and vampire blood for added healing abilities that also helped to speed up the healing process by a significant degree. Dipping my fingers into the gooey ointment, I applied some to the sutures on my shoulder and arm before wrapping gauze over the top. Thanks to the ointment, another day or so and I could remove the stitches.
Once done, I got dressed in fresh clothes, putting on dark pants, a shirt, and a black tie. I also had a spare trench coat hanging up, which I put on, transferring my phone into one pocket. Next, I attached a holster with my service pistol in it onto my belt, followed by my badge.
When I‘d finished, I went back to the shelves and located the large Mud jar, before finding a dropper bottle and filling it with the murky liquid. I was tempted to take some now, but as I was so fatigued from lack of sleep, I didn’t think it would be a good idea. So instead, I selected a smaller jar from the shelves, this one containing a red powder that I had named Snake Bite. After tapping out a small amount onto the back of my hand, I snorted the stuff up my nose, gasping as it immediately entered my system. The drug was stronger than any amphetamine out there and would be enough to keep me going for the next several hours at least. I swear, if I marketed any of this stuff, I’d make a fucking fortune.
Suited and booted, I went back into the living room and then into the bathroom to retrieve Callie’s locket, which I kissed before putting it into my trench pocket.
When I came back out again, the Hellbastards burst through the front door, squabbling among themselves as usual, although they all stopped when they firstly saw the two dead bodies on the living room floor, and secondly when they noticed Scarlet standing by the window, who didn’t appear at all put out because five vertically challenged demons had just entered the apartment.
All the Hellbastards stood there gazing at Scarlet like she was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. It was actually funny, although you can never tell what’s going through the Hellbastard’s minds. Were they admiring her beauty, or just thinking of all the depraved things they could do to her?
“Well, hello there,” Scarlet said, coming to stand in front of the diminutive demons, their usual belligerence piped down in the face of such a vision standing before them.
“Hello,” said Cracka in the quietest, gentlest voice I’d ever heard him use.
“And what’s your name?” Scarlet asked, hunkering down to get nearer his level.
“My name Cracka,” he said, all doe-eyed and coy. “What yours?”
“You can call me Scarlet.”
“Scarlet,” Cracka repeated as he looked back at the others, a smug smile on his face as if he was now Scarlet’s favorite in all the world. The others all came forward and introduced themselves one by one, as polite as I’d ever seen them be with anyone.
“What are you, a fucking demon whisperer?” I said to her, my body now buzzing with energy from the Snake Bite I’d snorted.
Scarlet smiled. “I have a way with creatures.”
“Can we go home with her, boss?” Scroteface asked, the tabby cat still stuck to his skull.
“Please?” Cracka said, giving me doe-eyes, still with a dead Chihuahua on his
head, despite me telling him to get rid of it.
“No, you can’t fucking go home with her,” I said. “Jesus, what’s next, you gonna ask her to the fucking prom or something?”
“What’s a prom?” Reggie asked, a fresh cigar in his mouth.
“Never mind,” I said. “In case you haven’t noticed, there are three dead bodies in here that need getting rid off.”
“I only see two,” Snot Skull said, barely looking at me as he too gazed upon the Scarlet Wonder before him.
“There’s one in the kitchen,” I said. “Where’s Haedemus? We’re going to need him.”
“Outside,” Toast said, standing with his hands on his hips, still looking ridiculous in his green budgie-smugglers and red vest. “He’s saying he’s got indigestion from eating the kiddie fiddler. He needs to lie down a while.”
“Oh, does he?” I said. “Well, go out and tell him to go around the back of the building. He can rest up later.” When none of the Hellbastards made to move, I shouted, “Now please! Scroteface, you do it.”
“Why me, boss?” he moaned.
“Because I’m telling you to. Now move before I throw you out the fucking window.”
“Don’t be so hard on the little darlings,” Scarlet said, tickling Cracka under his chin, who promptly got a massive erection.
“See what you did?” I said to her.
“Oh,” she said, backing away.
“Tickle me again,” Cracka said, wrapping his small hand around his oversized member. “Please.”
“Alright, enough,” I said stepping in front of them all. “We have bodies to move. Let’s go.”
When the Hellbastards finally got their act together, they helped me drag the three bodies downstairs to the back of the building while I tried not to get blood on me. Haedemus was waiting in the back alley, no doubt wondering why until he saw us emerge with the bodies. “Ethan,” he said. “I appreciate the gesture, but I’m seriously stuffed here. I don’t think I can eat anymore.”
“Shut up,” I said as I dumped a body on the rubbish-strewn ground. “I need you to take three bodies to the scrap yard. You can stash them there somewhere and munch on them at your convenience. Just don’t let Cal see you bring them in.”
Haedemus blinked his red eyes at me. “You did this just for me? Ethan, I don’t know what—”
“Get a grip, Haedemus,” I said. “I didn’t kill these punks for you. I killed them because they tried to kill me.”
“Oh, I see,” he said. “So you weren’t thinking of me. And here was me thinking we’d finally made a breakthrough in our relationship.”
“What’s he talking about, boss?” Scroteface said as he stood over one of the bodies.
“That’s a question I ask myself all the time, Scroteface,” I said.
“Oh, ha! ha!” Haedemus said. “Hilarious, Ethan. How about you carry these bodies to the scrap yard yourself?” He turned away then, throwing his head up in a huff.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I said. “I don’t have time for your tantrums, Haedemus.”
“You don’t have time for me at all, Ethan.”
Scroteface sniggered. “Drama queen.”
“Fuck off you little demon bastard,” Haedemus said. “Before I spear you with my horn.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Scroteface said squaring up to the Hellicorn, who towered over him by many feet.
“Alright, enough of this shit,” I said. “Haedemus, I need your help here. I promise I’ll be forever grateful if you take the bodies to the scrap yard.”
“Words, Ethan, words.”
Fuck me. And I thought humans were hard to deal with. “Okay, you know that trip to the beach you’re always on about?”
“Yes,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. “What about it?”
“As soon as I get time, I’ll take you there. We can watch the sunset. It’ll be great.”
Haedemus continued to stare at me. “Do you mean it?”
“Jesus, yes. I mean it.”
“Look at me,” he said as he grotesquely peeled back his lips to reveal his rotten teeth. “I’m smiling here, Ethan. You’ve made me happy.”
“That’s great,” I said. “I’m glad.”
“What about us, boss?” Scroteface said as I lifted the first body and draped it over Haedemus’ back.
“What about you, Scroteface?” I said, lifting the second body and placing it alongside the first.
“When do we get to go to the beach?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You have freedom of movement, you little shit. You can go anywhere you want, including the damn beach.”
“I mean with you,” he said, and the other Hellbastards all nodded as they agreed.
“Oh,” I said after I’d placed the last body on Haedemus’ back. “You mean like a big family fun day out?”
“Yeah,” they all said together.
“Not gonna happen,” I said and walked back inside the building.
Leaving the Hellbastards to clean up the apartment and all the blood in the kitchen, I left with Scarlet to go to the precinct. As she had turned up to the city on a street-lethal, bright red Kawasaki motorbike, I offered to take her in my old Dodge so we could talk on the way to the precinct.
“It’s good that we’re going to the police station,” she said as I put Motorhead on the car stereo, blasting out Ace of Spades as I gunned the Dodge down the street.
“Why?” I asked her. “You gonna turn yourself in?”
“Hardly,” she said. “Just don’t mention my name when we get there.”
“What should I call you then?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Daisy Duke it is then.”
She shook her head at me. “Jane Smith will be fine.”
“Okay, Jane,” I said. “I’m thinking you know more about the circumstances of your sister’s kidnapping than you’re letting on, so why don’t you fill me in.”
“Are you on something?” she asked. “You seem very hyped up.”
“I haven’t slept in three days. I may have taken a little something to keep me going. Don’t worry about it,” I said, taking the next corner at speed, sending her flying into the door.
“I’ll worry if you get us killed before we even get there.”
“Please. I could drive this thing in my sleep. Just tell me what you haven’t told me yet.”
“It’s two things,” she said, grabbing the handle above the door as I sped into another corner, almost hitting another car that pulled out as I was driving by, causing Scarlet to shake her head, probably wishing she had driven herself on the motorbike. “First, it was one person who took Charlotte. I tracked their path the whole way through the forest until the trail ended at a back road. Going by the tracks, it seemed as if Charlotte had gone willingly with whoever took her. There were no drag marks, no signs of any struggle. It’s like she just went for a walk with this person. And let me tell you, Charlotte is gifted physically. If she wanted to kick someone’s ass, she could, easily.”
“Could it have been someone she knew?”
“No, that’s impossible.”
“Impossible? Why?”
“Charlotte has had no other human contact since we came to the forest when she was just five years old, apart from with our grandmother and me, and our grandmother is in a coma in a private medical institute in Bedford at the moment. Has been for the last six years.”
“Six years? I’m sorry,” I said. “What happened to her?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, turning to stare out the window at the dark street. “It’s not relevant right now.”
“How do you know it isn’t relevant?”
“Because it isn’t,” she said. “Just listen to me. Charlotte has had no contact with the outside world for the last twelve years.”
“That’s a long time.”
“It is what it is,” she said, opening her window when I lit a cigarette. “You see how odd it is, though, that she would
go willingly with a stranger, despite everything I’ve taught her about security over the years?
“I guess so,” I said, blowing smoke into the car. “Could be she was mind-controlled somehow. Vampires can control minds. So can mentalists, witches, warlocks, magicians with the right magic, and anyone who has a mind-control chip implanted. It’s not as rare an ability as you might think.”
She went silent for a moment as she considered all of this. “So it could be anyone.”
“Yes and no,” I said. “It still has to be someone with a good reason to take her. Maybe someone out for revenge against you.”
“Wouldn’t they have contacted me by now, though? If only to gloat, and to let me know they have her?”
I nodded. “I guess so. What’s the other thing you haven’t told me?”
“I followed the tracks to the road as I said, which is where I noticed the tire tracks.”
“You think Charlotte was loaded into a vehicle?”
“Most definitely,” she said. “I even found a witness.”
“Who?”
“Just an old lady who lives along the road. When I asked if she saw anything, she said she saw a Volkswagen camper van driving along the road, which is significant because the road is private. It doesn’t get any traffic normally.”
“Okay. That could be helpful.”
“I was thinking you could check the traffic cam footage at the station, see if the van shows up anywhere.”
“It’s a good idea,” I said, slowing down for a light up ahead. “But too much time has passed. Any footage would’ve been deleted by now.”
“Fuck,” she said, slamming her fist against the door.
“Don’t panic,” I said, swinging the car around in the street before heading in a different direction. “I know two guys who can help.”
5
Pan Demic smiled as he opened the door of the penthouse, parting his long black hair from his face with thin fingers as loud death metal played in the background. “Drakester, my man,” he said before looking at Scarlet. “And—”
“This is—” I started to say.
