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Blood Summoned

Page 17

by N. P. Martin


  “You’ll have my fucking foot up your ass in a second if you don’t get on with it,” I said.

  “God, Drakester,” Artemis said. “You’re so strict at times. Are you like that when you have sex as well? I’ll bet you’re one of those dominant types, aren’t you? All like, flipping bitches over and slapping their asses hard as you pull their heads back, making sure they feel your every manly thrust.”

  Scarlet burst out laughing, and I don’t know if it was the surprise of hearing her laugh or what Artemis said or both, but I burst out laughing too, and then Pan Demic and Artemis joined in until we were all busting a gut.

  “Alright,” I said when I’d stopped laughing. “Just get on with it.”

  It took them a few minutes, but they eventually found the footage that had been uploaded to the precinct computer system. It showed a clear view of the samurai statue in Serenity Square, beginning in the daytime as crowds of people flowed in and out of the square, and transitioning into the nighttime as Artemis fast-forwarded the video. Soon, the square was practically empty as the time on the footage approached midnight. Then at two minutes to midnight, the Yakuza soldier just appeared out of nowhere, impaled on the giant samurai sword. “What the fuck?” Artemis said, rewinding the footage, slowing it down to try to see what happened.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You’re not going to see anything.”

  “What?” Pan Demic said. “I don’t get it.”

  “She was riding the Hellicorn,” I said. “The Hellicorn is invisible to Unawares, including digital cameras it seems. Thank fuck.”

  “Who were you looking for?” Artemis asked. “And what is this Hellicorn you speak of? It sounds awesome.”

  “Never mind the Hellicorn,” I said. “Never mind any of this.”

  “You’re not even going to tell us who impaled that guy?” Artemis said.

  “You don’t need to know,” I said.

  “You said she,” Pan Demic said. “Do you mean your partner?”

  Despite me staying stony-faced, Artemis said, “Your partner is fucking scary biscuits, Drakester. We saw her on the Brokedown Palace Massacre video. Is she like a demon or something? I don’t think you saw what she did to all those bodies after you left. You wanna see?”

  “No thanks,” I said. “We need to be going. Thanks, boys, and wipe that fucking video. I mean it.”

  As Scarlet and I headed to the door, Pan Demic called out, “Hey Scarlet, sleep on this one. Tears are the by-product of the soul. Whatever essence that rests in any true human, excretes the salty fluid as waste. That’s how you can tell the automatons. Taste their tears. Just water.”

  Scarlet stared at Pan Demic like she didn’t know what to say, shaking her head when words failed her.

  “It’s okay,” Pan Demic said. “Just let it sink in.”

  “Yeah,” Scarlet said. “I’ll do that. Thanks…Pan Demic.”

  Pan Demic smiled before turning back to his computer. “Don’t mention it.”

  15

  The Cathedral Quarter is the oldest part of Fairview. Most of the population here can trace its heritage back to the indigenous people of the city, and to its first settlers. It’s a cramped district filled with meandering cobbled streets and old stone buildings that stand in the glow of wrought-iron street lamps, giving it the appearance of a place out of time, or a place long forgotten by the rest of the city.

  As Scarlet and I drove farther into the district, it became harder to negotiate the narrow streets and alleyways. While I did my best not to scrape the Dodge against enclosing walls, Scarlet looked out the window at the various historical landmarks we passed, which the Cathedral Quarter was full of. Smack in the center of the district was Blackwood Cathedral, a huge building and a grand example of classic gothic architecture in the shape of a Latin cross.

  The address I had for Robert Webb was a historical townhouse a few streets away from the cathedral. After navigating the narrow roads, I finally pulled the Dodge up outside Webb’s house.

  “It’s quite beautiful in its own way, this place,” Scarlet said as she stared out the window toward an antiquated, masterfully sculpted fountain across the street that sat in a little square of its own, surrounded by various boutiques and art galleries.

  “This is your first time here?” I asked her, sitting for a minute while I finished my cigarette.

  “Yes. It’s like something from a fairy tale.”

  “Don’t let the quaint appearance deceive you,” I said. “This place is filled with darkness and terrible secrets as much as the rest of the city. Probably more so, given how far its history goes back. All the old money is here, along with the skeletons and inbreeding that goes with it. I’m not surprised you haven’t done any hits here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because people here handle their own business, that’s why. They don’t like outsiders.”

  “You think that’s what happened with Charlotte’s father?” she asked.

  I nodded. “My guess is Big Pharma had him committed so he couldn’t ruin the reputation of a multi-billion-dollar company. Hopefully this guy Robert will shed some light on that.”

  “Let’s go and talk to him then.”

  As Scarlet exited the car, I got out as well, dropping my cigarette butt on the pristine cobbled street and grinding it underfoot, ignoring the disapproving look of a man out walking his dog just down the street.

  Walking up to the door of number forty-five, I rapped it with my knuckles and stood back waiting, with Scarlet standing beside me. A moment later, a man answered, opening the door just enough so he could get his head around to peek out at us. “Yes?” he said. “Can I help you?” He seemed to be in his early sixties, tall with a gaunt face and white hair. His blue eyes were suspicious and a little afraid as he stared out at us.

  “Robert Webb?” I said.

  The man nodded. “That’s right.”

  I unclipped my badge from my belt and held it up for him to see. “I’m Detective Drake with the FPD. I want to ask you a few questions if that’s alright.”

  “What about?” Webb asked, staring at Scarlet now, and the cuts and bruises all over her face.

  “Your brother Jonas.”

  Webb said nothing for a moment as he stared at me, and for a second I thought he was going to close the door on us, but instead, he opened it fully and stood back to let us in. Thanking him, Scarlet and I walked into the hallway and followed Webb into the front room where he had a fire roaring in the fireplace and classical music playing softly from an expensive-looking stereo in the corner of the small room, most of which was taken up by bookshelves, and not a TV in sight. “Excuse the mess,” he said as he cleared folders and papers from the couch so we could sit down. “I was grading papers before you called.”

  “You teach at the university nearby?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said, still standing as Scarlet and I sat down on the couch, the smell of pipe tobacco and brandy in the air. Dressed in plaid pants and red smoking jacket, Webb looked every inch the teacher. “I’m a chemistry professor there. Can I get either of you a drink?”

  “No, thank you,” Scarlet said, regarding Webb with some suspicion it seemed. She sat perched on the edge of the couch as if ready to pounce on Webb at the slightest provocation. Webb could hardly bring himself to look at her, either out of fear or shame, I couldn’t tell which.

  “I didn’t catch your name,” he said to Scarlet as he stood in front of the fireplace.

  “My name is Scarlet. Scarlet Hood. Perhaps you know me?”

  Webb stared at Scarlet for a second before sighing and sitting in an armchair positioned by the fire. “I’m not going to lie,” he said. “I know who you are, Ms. Hood. I also know why you are here.”

  “Do you? Why?”

  “You’re here about your sister, Charlotte. Isn’t that right?”

  “Do you know where she is?” Scarlet edged forward a little more on the couch, causing Webb to shrink back slightly in his seat.


  “Relax, Scarlet,” I said. “Let’s take this nice and easy. We didn’t come here to bully, Mr. Webb. I’m sure he’ll tell us everything.” I looked at Webb. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Webb?”

  “Robert,” he said, seeming to relax a little as he got up and retrieved his pipe from the mantle, sitting back down again as he started filling it with tobacco from a pouch he produced from his jacket pocket. “Call me Robert. And to answer your question, Ms. Hood, I don’t know for sure where your sister might be, but I have some idea.”

  “Where?” Scarlet pressed.

  “She’s with my brother, I imagine,” he said.

  “Jonas?” I said. “He’s not in Danvers?”

  “He was,” Robert said. “He escaped about a month ago.”

  “Why did no one report it?” I asked.

  “The same reason his name was kept out of the public eye all those years ago,” he said. “To avoid a scandal.”

  “So no one’s looking for him?”

  “People are looking for him, alright. People that want to silence him for good.”

  “You have a problem with that?” Scarlet said.

  “Yes,” Robert said. “Jonas is my brother. I don’t wish him dead, despite what he did. He wasn’t in his right mind when he kidnapped all those women. His entire family had been slaughtered. He was insane with grief.”

  “You’re making excuses for him,” Scarlet said, shaking her head with disdain.

  “Not excuses,” he said as he lit his pipe, puffing fragrant smoke into the room. “Jonas’ actions were abhorrent. Unforgivable even. But that doesn’t mean I will assist in killing him, which the company men want me to do.”

  “Company men?” I asked.

  “Agents of the pharmaceutical industry, an unscrupulous business I warned Jonas not to get involved in many years ago.”

  “What happened to Jonas’ family?” I asked. “Any idea who would’ve killed them?”

  Robert Webb sighed slightly and shook his head. “Do you believe in monsters, Detective?”

  “What kind of monsters?”

  “Vampires.”

  I nodded. “Do you believe in them?”

  “I really can’t say. I’ve seen many strange things in my time, things I still can’t explain, but I’ve never been face to face with a monster, so like a good scientist, I reserve judgment pending further proof. Regardless of my beliefs, however, it’s what Jonas believed that matters, and he believed that a vampire murdered his wife and three children as they slept. Jonas was always more open-minded about these things than most, and when he noticed the strange marks on the necks of his family and the exsanguination of the bodies, he concluded that it was a vampire who killed them. The police, of course, thought otherwise and dismissed Jonas’ conclusions as the mad rantings of a grieving man. Regardless, Jonas never changed his mind, and he became obsessed with finding a way to wipe out all vampires from the face of the earth.”

  “Is that what the experiments were for then?” I said. “Is that why he kidnapped those women and forced them to have babies?”

  Robert nodded with some sadness. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Those poor women didn’t deserve what happened to them.”

  “What was your brother trying to achieve with those experiments? Why did he need babies?”

  “I confess to knowing very little about Jonas’ experiments,” he said. “During that time, he had no contact with anyone, including me. When I called at his house, he would tell me to go away, that he was fine and that he just wanted to be left alone. I thought he was grieving, so eventually I stopped calling, thinking he would come around in his own time.”

  “And he came around, didn’t he?” Scarlet said. “You could’ve stopped it all if you’d tried harder.”

  “Perhaps,” he said. “But then your sister wouldn’t have been born either, would she?”

  Scarlet stared hard at Webb for a long moment before shaking her head and looking away, knowing there wasn’t much she could say on the matter.

  “During his arrest,” I said. “Jonas kept ranting that Charlotte was special somehow. I take it he genetically enhanced her?”

  “I don’t know, Detective,” Webb said. “I didn’t speak to Jonas again until after he was committed. His once brilliant mind had deteriorated badly by that stage. I’m sorry to say he was utterly insane. He spoke very little, and what he did say was rambling nonsense, centered around his lust for revenge, however long it took. He said he would wait until the time was right, and then he never spoke another word to anyone since.”

  “And now he’s escaped,” I said. “Nice going for a madman.”

  “Jonas may be insane, Detective, but I don’t doubt he’s still smarter than you or I could ever hope to be. His brilliant talent has just been turned toward more unsavory pursuits.”

  “Like my sister, you mean?” Scarlet said.

  “I don’t know,” Webb said. “I haven’t heard anything from Jonas since his escape.”

  “You haven’t even tried to find him?”

  He shook his head. “Whoever Jonas is now, he’s not the brother I once knew. That’s not to say I want him dead, but I don’t want to see him either.”

  “Why?” Scarlet asked. “Because you’re afraid of him? Or because your guilt won’t let you?”

  Webb smiled plaintively. “Both, I would say.”

  “You said you had some idea of where Jonas might be,” I said. “Can you tell us where?”

  “Jonas was a secretive man,” he said. “He had property all over the place, secret bank accounts and various lab facilities that only a select few knew about. However, there is one place in particular where I think he might be and that is an underground bunker in the mountains outside of Redditch Village. The pharmaceutical industry is rife with espionage and dirty dealings, so Jonas did his most important work at the secure bunker where no one could steal it. If I had to guess, I’d say that’s where he is now.” He looked at Scarlet. “It’s where he probably took your sister.”

  “God only knows what he’s doing to her,” Scarlet said. “What he’s done to her.”

  “I can’t comment on that, I’m afraid,” Webb said. “What I can tell you is that Jonas will probably have armed security guards at the bunker. He’ll know the company men will be after him, so he won’t take any chances. Knowing my brother, he’ll have access to whatever resources he needs to complete whatever plan he has in motion. His plan for revenge most probably, however crazy it may be.”

  “You better not be lying to us,” Scarlet said, on her feet now as she glared over at Webb. “If I find out you’re sending us on a wild goose chase, I’ll come back here and kill you.”

  “I don’t doubt that you will, my dear,” he said. “I sincerely hope you find your sister.”

  “Come on,” Scarlet said to me. “Let’s go.”

  I stood up. “Thanks for your help,” I told Webb.

  “Are you going to kill my brother?” he asked, looking at me.

  “We’re going to get Charlotte back,” I said. “Whatever happens after that is up to him.”

  Webb stared into the fire. “Perhaps it would be best if someone were to put poor Jonas out of his misery.”

  “As I said, that’s up to him.”

  Scarlet threw me a look that said she disagreed, but she remained silent.

  “Before you go,” Webb said, grabbing a sheet of paper and a pen and beginning to write on it. “You’ll need the access code to the bunker. The one time Jonas took me to see the place, he used his wife’s birthday as the code. He may have changed it now. If so, you’ll have to find your own way in.” He handed me the piece of paper with the access code written on it, which I folded up and put in my pocket. “Drive through Redditch Village and keep going for about two miles until you come to a gated access road on the right-hand side. Follow the access road up the mountain until it forks off. Take the right fork, and it will bring you to the main entrance.”

  “Got it,” I said. �
�Thanks.”

  As we were leaving, Webb said, “Tell Jonas I’m sorry.”

  Scarlet stopped and looked back at him for a second. “Tell him yourself when you meet him in Hell.”

  Outside in the car, I said, “That was a bit harsh, what you said there.”

  “He stood by while his brother did unspeakable things,” Scarlet said, seething with anger. “He’s just as bad.”

  “Evil happens when good men stand by and do nothing.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

  “Fucking right he will,” Scarlet said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  We didn’t drive immediately to Jonas’ mountain hideout. Instead, Scarlet got me to drive to the storage unit she kept downtown first. If Jonas had security like Robert said he might have, she said we would need to be prepared, which meant arming up first.

  Which wouldn’t be a problem, for the storage unit she took me to was like an Aladdin’s cave of deadly weapons, housing everything from military-grade guns to a vast selection of knives, crossbows, compound bows and even a shelf filled with various poisons. On a rack to the left hung a collection of tactical outfits. Scarlet looked through them for a moment before stripping off the clothes she had on until she stood in just her black underwear. When she caught me looking at her, she pulled a face and said, “Sorry, I forgot you were here.”

  “Touché,” I said smiling.

  “Help yourself to whatever you want,” she said as she began to put on a black leather outfit that appeared to be reinforced in places with thicker leather and probably Kevlar as well.

  “Cool. Does that include the outfits?”

  She smiled. “I don’t think they’d suit you.”

  Smiling back, I turned to the guns and ran my eyes over the racks of rifles and submachine guns before selecting a custom Noveske Rogue Hunter with a ten-inch barrel and suppressor, putting four extra magazines into the pockets of my trench.

  When I turned around again, Scarlet was putting on a dark red tunic over her black leather outfit. “What’s with the Red Riding Hood get up?” I asked her.

 

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