by Terence West
Toby pulled his hand away from his nose and mouth for a moment. “Is it possible this is a natural mutation?"
Yaz considered the question for a moment. “No, I don't think so. Vampirism takes hold in organisms a bit differently in each case, so no two Vampires are exactly alike,” he explained, “but there has never been a documented case of a mutation this dramatic. Doesn't seem to offer much more protection though.” He noted the stake I had driven into Luke's heart. “So I'm not certain what purpose the plates serve. They seem almost too thin to do any good.” He pulled a penlight out of his breast pocket and clicked it on.
"What could cause this, Yaz?” I asked, staring at the exposed bony plate.
"I have no idea,” he answered as he peered into the Vampire's mouth. “Fangs seem normal, I don't—” He paused as he pulled Luke's upper lip back. “Hold the phone."
I took a step closer.
"This Vampire has no venom glands,” Yaz said as he stared into its mouth. “At least none that I can see.” He ran his finger over one of Luke's fangs. “Yeah, this one couldn't make Vampire venom. All Vampire fangs have hollow centers and tiny holes in the tips to inject their neurotoxin.” He tapped Luke's fang. “This one's solid as a rock.” He paused and looked at the mystery before him. “This one definitely isn't a stock model."
"I need to know how this was done to him, Yaz.” I stepped back from the body. The smell was becoming overpowering.
Yaz nodded. “I would like to know the same thing. This is damned strange.” He looked from the body back to me. “Give me until tomorrow night. That should give me enough time to complete the autopsy and toxicology screen."
"Thanks, Doctor,” I said with a nod.
Turning away from the body, I started pushing Toby toward the doors. Once outside, I waved my hand before my nose to bring in clean air.
"Boy,” Toby said with a sniff of his shirt, “that stuff really stays with you."
I could smell the odor on Toby as well. It was faint, but it was there. “You stink."
"You're no spring daisy either,” Toby shot back.
"And I thought,” Karl said, bursting through the double doors with his fingers pinching his nose shut, “they smelled bad on the outside."
I caught myself smirking at the Goblin's Han Solo reference. I laughed to myself at the thought of the little Goblin watching Star Wars. Dammit, I was starting to like him.
Toby cocked his head slightly trying to decipher what exactly I was laughing at. Seeming to let it go, he returned his attention to the mystery at hand. “What now, Rosy?"
"I want you and the little green thing to find out everything you can about that fake company that was paying off Vlad, Cantrix Unlimited,” I instructed. “That seems to be our only lead."
"Little green thing?” Karl fumed. “That the best you got, suckhead? My grandmamma can sling better insults than that. And she's dead!"
Toby laughed and returned his attention to me. “What are you going to do, Rosy?"
"I want to visit the other nests that were wiped out,” I answered. “Maybe I can find answers there."
"What about Overseer Sumner?” Toby asked. “Are we going follow up on the Ifrit's tip?"
I sighed. “I don't know what to do with that yet. We can't simply walk into Sumner's office and ask him if he's part of some kind of conspiracy. We need more information first."
"Okay.” Toby understood. He placed his hand tenderly on my shoulder. “Be careful, Rosy. Apparently you're on someone's hit list."
I smiled. “I will.” I squeezed his hand gently for reassurance.
Watching Toby and Karl walk down the hallway, I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. I didn't like the way this investigation was shaping up. Someone was experimenting on Inhumans and then using Brimstone to clear the evidence.
Why were they experimenting on Inhumans in the first place? What was their goal? How was Lucas Nash involved? And how did the rebellion and Overseer Sumner Chithula spoke of about fit into the picture?
Too many questions ... But I was going to find out. And I needed help to do it.
Pushing away from the wall, I turned and walked briskly away from the autopsy lab.
Chapter 21
"I'm going to get annoyed with you really quickly,” Crash warned me as he stepped out of my car. “I was watching my stories and you drag me out to this old house in the middle of bloody nowhere?"
Pulling my leather jacket out of the way, I slipped the holster onto the waistband of my jeans and ran my thumb over the cool metal of my weapon. It seemed somewhat comforting to have my Beretta back again. “You were sitting in your apartment watching soap operas.” Closing the car door, I circled around to stand next to Crash. “Those things rot your brain."
"Yeah? We'll I've got a whole DVR full of Days of our Lives that says differently.” He smiled. “You'd like it I think. They did a bunch of episodes where Marlena was a Vampire. She's a hot blond, just like you."
I shot the Raze Demon a cross look, even though he was the first person to refer to me as hot in a long time. “Can we just do this?"
"It's your dime.” Crash laughed. “This one isn't half as pretty as the last one you dragged me to though."
Crash was right. It looked like it used to belong to a rather nice neighborhood, but now the lawn and shrubs were dead, vagrants lived in nearby abandoned houses, while stray dogs wandered in and out of the house looking for their next meal. A pack of legal Werewolves once called this raised rambler home before it had been burned to the ground prior to Brimstone cleaning them out. Only a hint of the original stucco walls remained as the rest was blackened by fire. From my vantage point on the front walk, I could stare easily into the exposed basement through massive holes in the floor. However, it was an illusion. I could see the nearly hidden shimmering bands of color wash over it.
"The house is still there. I can see a couple of seams in the magic,” Crash explained. “This spell isn't as complex as the one covering the Vampire's nest. Still don't think a Cleaner Witch pulled this one off,” he stated. “Should have it down in a pinch."
"Do it,” I breathed.
Shaking his hands like a safe cracker about to breach a vault, Crash revealed the red armor plating of his true form. Tugging on his trousers, he knelt down on the sidewalk and placed both of his hands flat on the concrete. Before us, the black husk of the house began to shimmer allowing a few scattered glimpses of its true form beneath. A wave of gold-hued energy rippled from Crash's hands and washed up the front of the house. As it reached the top, the wave folded back into itself and, with an audible pop, produced a shower of yellow sparks that rained around us. The illusion cracked and fell to the ground like shattered glass revealing the intact house beneath.
"Impressive,” I said with a smile.
"Did that little fireworks show for you, love,” Crash noted as he stood up. His hands were already disguised as human again. “Thought you might get a thrill out of it."
I couldn't help laugh at the charming criminal. “Thank you."
"I suppose you want me to go in with you again,” Crash said without any reservation, “just in case."
I wasn't sure, but I think he was starting to enjoy working with me. Leaning close, I patted the Raze Demon on the shoulder. “I'd love the company, Crash."
"All right then.” the Raze Demon started toward the house. “Let's quit mucking about on the front lawn and get inside."
"That's kind of odd,” I paused and commented.
Crash stopped and looked back at me. “What?"
"That.” I pointed up to the gable above the door. There, perched perfectly on the peak with its clawed fingers curling over the lip, was a large, black, grotesque, stone gargoyle. It peered down at us with horrible, wide eyes and its serpent tongue snaking from its mouth. “Don't usually see those in rural neighborhoods."
"Maybe the wolves thought it looked cool,” Crash theorized. “And anyway, it's just a big rock,” he said, turning back to
the house. “Let's get this done."
I nodded but couldn't seem to take my stare from the statue. It was hauntingly beautiful and because of the three dimensional nature of it, it looked like it was watching me. Two sharp horns jutted straight up from its head while its batlike wings were folded neatly to its hunched back. The gargoyle's body was thin and wiry, but it seemed powerful nevertheless.
Finally pulling my attention away, I started up the front steps toward Crash. “At least this one isn't upside down,” I noted as I unsnapped the safety loop on my holster.
With the masking spell gone, the scent of death hung heavily on the house. I wasn't certain if there were still bodies inside, or it was simply the lingering result of the Cleaners’ work. Wrapping my hand around the door handle, I twisted slowly and carefully opened the door. I wasn't sure what to expect, but tried to be ready for anything. Werewolves were known for their extreme security measures to protect against intruders. An axe hinged to the roof behind a front door killed a Cleaner I knew. The booby trap was activated as soon as the Cleaner opened the door and it easily cleaved his skull in two. Peering up through the crack in the door, I couldn't see any wires, hinges, or other devices that would spring a trap. Although that didn't mean there weren't any.
"Step back,” I advised Crash as I pushed him out of the way with my arm.
"What's up, Seeker?” the Raze Demon asked curiously.
Standing out of the doorway, I pushed the door open. I heard a pop, and it was over before I even knew what happened. I stared at the heavy steel bar now embedded in the open door. It had been mounted to the right of the door, and somehow I triggered it.
"What the bloody hell is that?” Crashed asked, his mouth open in awe.
"Security measure,” I answered. Ducking beneath the bar, I stepped inside the house.
"Can't they just buy an alarm like normal blokes?” Crash said, shaking his head as he followed me in.
The stench of death crashed into me like a tsunami. Decaying Werewolves were heaped in the front room while a nearly solid black cloud of flies buzzed angrily overhead. The tan carpet seemed to be undulating beneath my feet. Looking down, I realized it was a sheet of maggots. Clenching my teeth, I wrestled against the urge to retch.
"That's a lot of friggin’ maggots,” Crash stated soberly.
"Patrick,” I gasped, pulling my hand away from my mouth just long enough to speak.
"Who?” Crash asked coolly, seemingly unaffected by the stench.
"Cleaner,” I answered as professionally as I could. Captain Patrick Peterson's body was bent angrily backward over a dead Werewolf. A long, ornate stake that looked like it used to be a table leg was driven cleanly though his chest and out his back. His stern blue eyes were still wide with the final horror he saw. I thought of the raid he led on the Vampire nest that started all of this, then a thought occurred. “He shouldn't be here,” I said, turning to Crash. “Patrick isn't dead. He signed off on the reports after this den was cleansed."
"Sounds like we've got a Patrick doppelganger running loose,” Crash summarized.
That would certainly explain why he was acting so strangely that night. Over Crash's shoulder, I watched a pair of stony claws curl around the top of the doorframe. I didn't have time to mourn. I knew exactly what it was and sighed. “Crash,” I said quietly, “you might want to armor up.” I pointed behind him as I drew my Beretta.
"What the hell are you...” Crash stopped as he turned. Immediately his dark flesh melted away revealing the bony, red armor plates beneath.
The Gargoyle licked its toothy muzzle as it hung upside down in the doorway. Eyeing us with its horrible black and red eyes, it spread its wings and started to slowly crawl into the house. Saliva ran over its reptilian muzzle and dripped down into the maggots below. As the saliva hit, the maggots sizzled and died beneath the potent acid. If we moved, it would attack. If we didn't move, it would attack. Either way, we were boned.
Letting go of the roof, the Gargoyle snapped its head forward and let loose a bone-curdling screech. Flapping its massive wings, the stone creature righted itself and attacked with a swiftness that betrayed its weight. Hitting Crash dead center in the chest with its outstretched hind legs, both it and the Raze Demon hit the ground and rolled. Crash swung for the monster but missed. The Gargoyle screamed again as it lifted off Crash and caught me in its sights.
"Crap,” I breathed.
Snapping my pistol up, I only had the chance to pull the trigger once before the Gargoyle hit me. Sparks flew off the monster's stony hide as the bullet ricocheted harmlessly away. We tumbled into a mass of maggots and dead Werewolves. I felt its talons dig into my chest as it pounced on me. Swinging hard, I felt my fist connect with a hollow crunch. Pain seared across my hand. As its head snapped back, I drew my broken hand back in pain. The Gargoyle looked down at me with pure evil in its eyes. Digging its talons in deeper, it lunged forward and clamped its muzzle onto my shoulder. As its teeth punctured, I could feel its acidic saliva burning my flesh. I screamed in agony as it started to shake its head like a dog with its favorite chew toy.
Amidst the screaming pain, I heard Crash's voice somewhere in the distance. “Rose!"
From above the Gargoyle, I saw Crash lunge at it like a Mexican wrestler off the top ropes. After landing on the monster's humped back, the Raze Demon grabbed its wings and held on. Crash closed his eyes and focused his Demon power, razing the monster's stony hide. The Gargoyle reared back and shrieked in pain as its wings were ripped away. Letting go of me, it snapped around and bucked ferociously trying to get Crash off its back. Crash began to pull chunks of the monster's hide and toss them away revealing the soft, green flesh beneath.
Crash hollered at the top of his lungs, “It's like the bloody rodeo, Rosy! Yee-haw!” He whooped with a faux Texan accent, “Giddy up, lil’ doggie!"
Pain surged through my hand and shoulder. Scooping my gun off the floor, I shook the maggots free and stared at the Gargoyle with tears in my eyes and rage in my heart. “Hold him still, Crash."
Slipping around the Gargoyle, Crash threw his elbow into the monster's throat and pinned it to the wall. It snapped at the Raze Demon, but couldn't seem to get free.
Crash could have killed it, but this one was mine. Holding my wounded arm to my chest, every step seemed to hurt it. Lifting my Beretta, I aimed it directly at the Gargoyle's eye. The monster seemed to understand and screeched in defiance at me, but wouldn't turn away.
I pulled the trigger.
Green blood splattered out from the Gargoyle's eye as the bullet penetrated its brain. The stone shell, created to protect it, caused the bullet to ricochet inside of its skull. The Gargoyle whimpered as its brain was destroyed. Stepping back, Crash let it fall to the floor limp.
Turning and looking at my shoulder, I could hear the flesh still sizzling like frying bacon. It was gross and painful, but it wouldn't kill me. Holstering my pistol, I held my broken hand in front of me. Several of my knuckles were impacted causing my fingers to curl oddly. The flesh around them was already starting to swell. It was a classic boxer's fracture.
"Christ, Champ,” Crash, again in human guise, commented. “You hit it hard enough?"
A laughed a little despite the overwhelming pain I was in. “I need to get back to Brimstone.” I rolled my hand over and looked at my contorted fingers. “Hopefully the doctors can reset the bones."
Crash pointed at the dead Cleaner still lying in the corner. “What are you gonna do ‘bout him?"
I turned and stared into Patrick's lifeless eyes. It was too late. “Leave him."
"What about the wolves?” Crash asked. “Isn't that what we came for?"
He was right. Glancing down at one of the dead Werewolves at my feet, I realized what I had to do. Kneeling down I grabbed the beast's massive wrist with my free hand and pulled the arm free. The sound of bones and tendons popping was disgusting, but it wasn't any worse than my still sizzling shoulder. “This should do,” I said, tossing Crash t
he Werewolf's arm. “Let's go."
Crash looked at the dismembered arm in his hands and shook his head. “I hate it when she does that."
Walking down the stairs, I pulled my cell phone from my jacket pocket. Flipping it open, I scrolled through my contacts until I hit Toby's name. Pressing the send button, I pressed the slim, silver device to my ear. After three rings, I heard him answer. “It's Rose. Did you find anything on Cantrix?"
I frowned at his report.
"I'm headed back. Tell Yaz I have a new sample for him to start work on.” I glanced down at my broken hand. “And you might want to have a medic standing by. I'm headed back."
Snapping the phone shut, I slipped it back into my pocket. Holding my hand to the door handle, I glanced at the den one last time. Didn't seem like a fitting resting place for Patrick. I would have to correct that. I know he would do the same for me.
"What do you want me to do with this?” Crash asked, holding up the Werewolf arm.
"Just toss it in the back,” I said, sliding into the driver's seat. Pain raced up my arm making me cringe for a moment. Closing my eyes, I waited for the throbbing to pass. It wasn't passing. “Damn,” I moaned.
Crash's face was worried as he slipped into the passenger seat and set the arm in back. “You going to be all right? You look like hell."
I gritted my teeth and nodded. “I'm taking you home then I have to get back to Brimstone.” Black dots swarmed my vision. I fell forward and slammed my head against the horn.
Crash opened the door and ran around to my side. “How about I drive you to Brimstone and catch a cab home?"
"That's a much better plan,” I said with my face against the steering wheel.
Crash wrapped his arm around my waist and carefully picked me up with a strength that astonished even me. Carrying me in his arms around the car, he gently put me in the passenger seat. I didn't even feel a twinge of pain as he moved me. Making sure I wasn't going to slip out, he shut the door and ran back around to the driver's side and jumped in.
