Bloodlines (The Guardian of Empire City Book 1)

by Peter Hartog

  “Come now, Guardian, let us parley,” her laugh tinkled with genuine amusement. “Had I wished you dead, it would be so.”

  I stole a glance at the clear glass facing the receptionist’s desk. Unless someone was hiding below the counter, I didn’t think anyone was lying in wait. Still, there were several other offices on this floor, which meant plenty of places to hide an ambush. Any one of them could contain un-friendlies. I verified my connection with EVI was active. Backup wasn’t out of the question, but by the time anyone arrived I’d already be a greasy smear.

  I imagined Deacon’s voice in my head.

  Quit being a fuckin’ pussy, Holliday.

  In that moment, I really missed the crusty sonofabitch.

  “Your fallen Protector cannot aid you,” she cajoled, picking through my thoughts like some old spinster at a yard sale. “There is no harm in acting civilized. You have much to gain, and so little to lose.”

  Cinching up my courage, I crossed the short hallway and strode into the other room.

  Ettelman’s office was small and cozy, reminding me of my grandfather’s book-filled study at the old house in Brighton Beach. It had wood paneling, and more framed seascapes draped the walls. Two padded chairs were arranged before a desk made from real oak polished to a fine sheen. There was no virtual workstation or anything else on its surface. A closed door with a holo-placard reading ‘Examination Room’ was off to my left.

  The delightful scent of freshly-cut roses clung to the air like prom night.

  I stifled a sneeze.

  Doctor Tamara Ettelman sat behind the desk wearing a white lab coat and round glasses. Dark brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, stray fronds artfully loose below one eyebrow. Her elbows rested atop the desk, hands clasped together as a look of mischievous anticipation danced on her face. A gold ring bearing a startling emerald was on one finger, sparkling with a captivating inner fire.

  Julie DeGrassi stood at ease next to her, a satisfied smirk plastered across her designer face.

  “You!” I snarled.

  “Nice to see you too, Holliday,” Julie said, folding her arms across her chest, daring me to make a move.

  “On behalf of the Empire City Special Crimes Unit, you are hereby under arrest for the murder of Tony Marrazzo, and accessory to the murders of Officer Stanley, Sergeant Romero and Vanessa Mallery,” I grated between clenched teeth. “Put your hands where I can see them, and don’t make any sudden moves.”

  “Fuck off,” she sneered, eyeing me with cold disdain. “You can’t arrest me. All you’ve got is circumstantial evidence, no proof, and no witnesses.”

  “I’ve got probable cause.” My ears burned as my eyes narrowed. “You were nowhere to be found when I arrived at your apartment. Thought you’d been abducted, but there was no ransom note, and no sign of a struggle, so scratch that off the list. Then poor Tony takes a .38 between the eyes at close range. And now I find you hours later alive and well, and in the office of Vanessa Mallery’s doctor, resisting arrest. I can’t wait to hear you explain it all to the DA after I bring you both in.”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck what you think,” she replied haughtily. “I’m not going anywhere with you, asshole.”

  “Those officers assigned to protect you? They were my friends, you goddamn bitch,” I roared. “You have the right to remain silent.”

  I yanked the SCU badge from my belt. Its light halted several inches from the two women, held back by an invisible barrier.

  What the hell was that?

  “Now, now children,” Ettelman chided with a matronly smile. The air around her shimmered as the silver played along its edges. “The Guardian only has a short amount of time here, and there is so much we need to discuss!”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded. The Insight hammered to be unleashed, but whatever held it at bay tightened its grip. I winced in sudden pain. It felt like someone had shoved sharp needles directly into my brain. “And who the hell is the Guardian?’”

  “Why that would be you, my dear,” Ettelman replied, noting my discomfort with amusement. “Such is the role you play in this Game, and might I say your unexpected return to the Board has exceeded my wildest expectations! Now put away that filthy weapon before you hurt yourself.”

  My vision swam. The pain was excruciating, stabbing everywhere at once.

  “Fuck off,” I snapped in anger, but my arms lowered as if they possessed a mind of their own.

  The emerald glittered. Staring into its depths, the world around me became wreathed in a green, gauzy haze.

  “My dear Guardian, there is no need to be rude,” Ettelman purred in a voice dripping with honey. She gestured with a languid wave of her bejeweled hand at one of the chairs. “Your quest for the truth has brought you to my parlor. Now, sit.”

  My resolve slipped. I ran my fist clutching the badge across my eyes, and lurched backwards, bumping into one of the chairs. The slight contact sent a stream of agony shooting along my leg. I staggered, catching myself on the arm of the chair before I fell.

  “What…what are you doing to me?” I stammered, staring down at the champagne-colored carpet.

  Cold and heat alternated for control of my body. I shivered, wracked by a sudden fever. With unsteady hands, I holstered the gun.

  “I have done nothing, my dear,” Ettelman replied mildly, although her eyes told a different tale. “However, you seemed bent on a most distressing course of action. One that would have ended poorly for you, I’m afraid.”

  I sat down. The moment I touched the chair’s padding, the pain vanished. I sucked in a deep breath. Sweet relief washed over me.

  “Much better,” she said primly, adjusting her spectacles. “Now, I believe introductions are in order. You are already acquainted with my Handmaiden.”

  Julie inclined her head, watching me intently.

  “You’re Orpheus,” I spoke haltingly, heart racing.

  My thoughts scattered like sand in a breeze. The emerald filled my vision, engulfing everything else. The Insight pounded at the fringe, a chained force desperate to be unleashed.

  “Very good!” Orpheus clapped her hands in delight. “I found the tragedy of the original story appealing and adopted it for this little charade. To bargain with Death, only to be thwarted in the end! Melodramatic, and utterly human.”

  “Who are you really?” I managed. My tongue was thick inside my mouth. “Ettelman can’t be your real name.”

  “Well, of course it isn’t,” came her cherubic laugh. “No, my dear, my name is not important. After all, what is in a name, hmm?”

  My head swam, but my body was made of lead. I was anchored to the chair, arms and legs unable to adjust. The scent of roses was overpowering. I reached for the Insight again only to run into a barrier, a fortress of pure will dwarfing anything I’d ever encountered. My thoughts railed feebly against it.

  “Oh no, Guardian.” Her smile turned sad and cruel as she observed my struggle. “You are not ready for that. Another time, perhaps.”

  “Then just kill me,” I spat in anger, furious at my body’s futility. “You’ve got me where you want me.”

  “And spoil all of my fun?” Orpheus pouted, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Absolutely not. No, my dear Guardian, your return to the Board has changed the entire complexion of the Game. It has brought an unexpected and delicious wrinkle, one that I find most intriguing.”

  “What do you want?” I agonized, unable to do more than squirm in the chair. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I enjoy it,” she answered mildly. “And because I am curious. It was my desire to lay these tired, old eyes on you, and take your measure, as in days’ past.”

  “What the hell does any of that mean?” I tried to get comfortable, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. A lump of clay had more mobility than I did.

  “It means nothing to you, yet,” Orpheus replied, folding her hands neatly together. Her smile was filled with malice. “By now y
ou’ve deduced Rumpelstiltskin is responsible for poor Vanessa and Patricia, as well as those wretched abominations he kept at that despicable nightclub. Despite the knowledge I bestowed upon him, Rumpelstiltskin is bound by certain constraints, and thus limited in scope. The fool was tasked to create life, and like the tragedy of my name, he failed to keep faith. Sadly, his works are all flawed, and he thought to hide this from me. Playing at God is not for amateurs, Guardian. Such audacity cannot go unpunished. Rumpelstiltskin lacked vision, and his mishandling of this entire enterprise is unacceptable. It is now my wish for him and all his works to be removed from the Board. You are but one of my instruments.”

  My taut muscles strained against the invisible bonds coiled around my body. I clutched the SCU badge in my fist, unable to let it go. I closed my eyes, but the image of the emerald was there, something I couldn’t erase. Trapped within its endless expanse of green, I was vulnerable and exposed, a marionette held by twisted strings.

  “Poor Vanessa. Innocent until the very end,” Orpheus continued with a hint of sadness. “When she discovered the truth, she demanded we meet at that deplorable coffeehouse. And for what? To accuse me of ruining her life? I saved it! If not for me, Rumpelstiltskin would never have developed the enzyme to sustain his faulty creations! Alas, there was nothing more I could do. What was done, was done. When I discovered the truth, Vanessa’s usefulness, her purpose, no longer mattered. A blessing, perhaps, that her life was taken while she remained vibrant. Poor Vanessa and Patricia, like Eurydice before them. They are mere shadows whose lives are specks of light in a vast ocean of nothing.”

  “I…don’t…understand,” I said. My will was fading. Orpheus’ voice sounded far away. “What…was…her…purpose?”

  “Why, to sacrifice herself for me, of course,” Orpheus answered with a small smile.

  “You’re…insane,” I mumbled.

  “How provincial.” Orpheus frowned, her lilting singsong voice lulling my mind further down a dark emerald hole. “I had expected more from you, Guardian. A man of vision, perhaps. A worthy challenger to the Game. Alas, I see I am to be disappointed again. No matter. Like Vanessa, so too shall you turn to dust. Thou know’st ‘tis common all that lives must die, passing through nature to eternity.”

  Helplessness and despair seeped in, freed by the collapse of my will at the hands of whatever power Orpheus held over me. Those feelings flourished, a wasting disease that attacked my faith, and devoured my conviction. My past arose to haunt me, the constant abuse to my body and mind through drugs and alcohol, the loss of friends and family, my career, everything relived again moment after excruciating moment. A whirlwind of sensations rushed through, unimpeded by any sense of structure or purpose. I was a drowning man in a desert, unable to escape the prison of my own failures.

  There was no one here to help me, no ally I could call on.

  I was alone.

  Images of Kate appeared, lying lifeless in a tub full of water and blood, and I broke.

  “He’s weak,” Julie said from afar, scorn lacing her words. “What threat could he possibly be? Let’s be done with him.”

  “Perhaps you are right, my Handmaiden,” Orpheus pouted. “And he had such promise!”

  “He’s outlived his usefulness anyway,” Julie scoffed. “Grant me the pleasure of ending his life, mistress. I deserve as much. Then I’ll find Rumpelstiltskin, and finish this.”

  “Make it so, my Handmaiden,” Orpheus sighed dramatically. “Rumpelstiltskin must know the price for his failures. However, the theft of the blood by the servant of my brother is an insult that will not be tolerated. My plans must change.”

  “Must they?” Julie asked. “How did he even know?”

  Orpheus chuckled without mirth.

  “How quickly you forget, we are family. My brother and I, and the others yet to come, breathe cunning and deceit like you draw air. It matters little how he discovered our arrangement with Rumpelstiltskin, only that he did. And so, let my brother keep the blood of Vanessa Mallery, for what little good it will do him. Still, it would have been far more exquisite had the Guardian thwarted both Rumpelstiltskin and my brother simultaneously. My designs shall continue regardless of his interference.”

  Choked with emotion, my eyes ran hot with tears, and I opened them.

  The familiar sight of old white scars crisscrossing my wrists greeted me, stark mementos of one of the worst moments of my life. Seeing them, raw and real, was a bucket of cold water splashed in my face. I shook my head, clearing some of the emerald fuzz caking my mind. The hold Orpheus had on me sloughed off, enough for me to get my bearings.

  Instinct told me the more I struggled, the tighter became her grip. Instead, I concentrated on the stone sparkling on her finger. As my vision plunged further into it, I discovered the tiniest imperfection at its swirling heart. It was a fissure so gossamer thin, not even the finest jeweler in the world could have noticed it. Something about that imperfection filled me with hope. My hand squeezed the badge tighter. Its edges bit into my palm. A trickle of blood rolled off my flesh. The sudden sting jolted my senses. I relaxed my grip without dropping the badge. A rush of cool thought filled the vacuum of my mind, and clarity returned.

  The Insight remained under wraps, but my tongue loosened as I settled more comfortably in the chair. Full range of movement was restored, and with it, a dull anger whose heat I directed at the women before me.

  “I’m not done yet, not by half,” I grated, narrowing my eyes. Although I could’ve reached for the gun, I left it in its holster, instead folding my arms across my chest. “But since we’re on the subject, why don’t you fill me in on what’s really going on?”

  Julie bristled, but Orpheus raised a silencing hand.

  “Very good, Guardian.” She nodded in approval, appraising me again. “Very, very good. I see now why you were chosen.”

  I ignored the comment.

  The green of the gemstone slowed to a crawl, no longer drawing my attention.

  “Who is Rumpelstiltskin?” I asked. “The name isn’t in keeping with the whole Greek theme you’re peddling. He another one of your hand-men?”

  I grinned at Julie who answered it with a petulant scowl.

  Orpheus’ lazy smile returned.

  “It suited him. An imp of a man spinning human waste into goldjoy,” she replied, leaning forward, licking her lips in anticipation. “Shall you guess his name, then? Three tries, like the story? Should you guess true, then I shall answer one question! And if you fail, then a debt shall you owe me.”

  “I’m not interested in playing your game, Orpheus. And besides, I already know who he is,” I bluffed with conviction. After seeing the Wrigley-Boes brochure in the waiting room, I had a pretty good idea where to look. “I just came here to close out a lead.”

  “Bullshit,” Julie said. “You’ve been running around with no idea what’s really going on. Fucking amateur.”

  “Then why don’t you enlighten me, sweetheart?” I kept my eyes on Orpheus as I delivered my rejoinder. “You’re dying to do it. You can’t help yourself. And it’s why you haven’t let your hand-bitch here take me out.”

  “Oh, Guardian, I have missed you so!” Orpheus cackled with glee, clapping her hands again. “It has been far too long since we last faced one another!”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I exclaimed, exasperated. “All this ‘Guardian’ and ‘brother’ and ‘Game’ bullshit? What the hell does any of it mean? And what does that have to do with Vanessa Mallery?”

  “Why, nothing, and everything,” she smiled enigmatically. “Your world has changed, doorways have opened, and old things return that have not seen this sun in an age.” Her eyes took on a dreamy, romantic cast. “Humanity is upon the brink of a new era, Guardian, one it has forgotten through the vast span of time and technology. Pieces such as Vanessa, Patricia, and David Crain are but harbingers. However, with your return, the Board is now set.”

  Her fingers traced patterns over the
smooth surface of the desk, traversing the whorls and knots of its wood with a lover’s touch.

  “And the stakes?” Orpheus breathed with excitement. “They go far beyond base, material things such as reputation or land or wealth.”

  “Such as?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.

  “Why, power, of course,” she said with a Cheshire grin. “What else is there? But no matter. Our audience is at an end. It is time for you to finish what was set before you. As for my brother, he is already on the losing end of this round. I shall savor every tasty morsel of it.”

  “That’s it?” I retorted, the color rising in my cheeks. “You spout a bunch of nonsense, and then you think I’m going to let you and your hand-bitch waltz on out of here?”

  “You desire justice for the murdered girl!” she replied with a deep, cruel laugh. “And all those poor scraps of crude flesh Rumpelstiltskin kept in his basement! How rich! I had forgotten how much I’ve missed your probity, Guardian! The self-righteous can be so tiresome, but you wear yours like a badge of honor. No, Guardian, I should think your next course of action is obvious. Since justice is what you seek, then you shall find it in the lair of Rumpelstiltskin.”

  The gun was in my hand faster than thought.

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” I growled, pointing it and the badge at the two women. Once again, the silver light halted inches from them.

  Orpheus regarded me with cool detachment.

  “Until we meet again, Guardian.”

  “Next time Holliday, you won’t be so lucky,” Julie taunted, laying her hand on Orpheus’ shoulder.

  Then they vanished as if they had never been.

  Chapter 34

  The scars on my wrists throbbed with a hollow ache. I stared dully at the cuffs of my shirt sleeves, wondering if the pain would ever recede.

  “As tyme hem hurt, a tyme doth hem cure,” I muttered.

  The years passed, but time had healed nothing. Sorry Chaucer.

  “You barely touched your bagel!” Myrna admonished, rousing me from my troubled thoughts. “Whatsa matter, bubbe?”