by Steve McHugh
“Just tell him Nathan Garrett called,” I told her eventually. “Tell him I’ll meet him at the Lincoln Memorial at noon.”
She told me she would and hung up.
Before I could curse her silently for being a miserable pain in the ass, my phone rang again. “Sky,” I said.
“Nate, I figured you’d be missing me. How goes Maine?”
I told her about the cave troll and werelions.
“You don’t get involved in half-assed shit, do you? Would it be possible for you to go somewhere and not have things try to kill you?”
“What’s the point in that? Life would be all boring and stagnant.”
“Well, if it helps, I have some information that may tell you why people are trying to kill you.”
“Thanks, so what did you find?”
“We were searching Bill’s house and found a safe. It took a while, but we finally managed to get it open without destroying what was inside.”
Sky very quickly had every ounce of my attention. I didn’t even notice my nerves at flying. “What did you find?”
“Files. Eleven of them. Each of them is a missing person from around the country. All of them, six men and five women, vanished without a trace in the past three years. Three have officially gone missing from Stratford in the last few weeks. There are police reports for each of them. No signs of a struggle, all three were well liked and respected. Three hikers were killed a few days ago too and the other five are from all over the place.”
“Anything else?”
“He left notes detailing what he believed was a link between these murders and disappearances and what happened in Maine in 1977. The older victims were all people who escaped the house with you and Bill. That information isn’t in any of the files though, he wrote it separately himself. There are also three more files with names—Patricia, Joshua, and Bianca. There are grainy CCTV images of them, but nothing else. He must have thought they were the killers.”
“Send me everything you have. I’ll ask Caitlin when she wakes up; maybe she’s seen their pictures before. The names of the victims who escaped were left out of any police reports. No one but people who were around at the time would know that they’re linked, but we still don’t know what they’re killing for.”
“There could be more bodies. The fact that none of the recent victims have been found tends to make me believe they were very good at making people stay gone.”
I flashed back to the cave troll and piles of bones. “I found them,” I said. “I’m pretty certain that they were taken to Stratford and fed to a cave troll.”
“Oh, shit,” Sky almost whispered. “That would explain not being able to find them. But why take people across country just to feed them to a monster?”
“No idea, and oddly enough the hikers weren’t fed to anything. They were found mauled to death. I’m on my way to Washington to see if I can find out more about the werelion prides in the area. The werelions in Stratford are Barbary lions. That can’t be too common.”
“Well, they probably are in some parts, but it’s doubtful that Maine is an overly large source of extinct lions.”
“Of those victims, any of them have tattoos?”
I waited while she flicked through something, the sound of paper rustling in my ear. “Six. Although no more details than that. Why?”
“Simon was murdering people and removing their tattoos back in the seventies. No one ever found out why he was doing it, but it must have been important.”
“You could go ask Simon himself.”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea at the moment. Although it may well turn into one if this trip doesn’t prove fruitful.”
“You think Simon’s old friends are killing again?”
“I think someone who knows him is finishing off his dirty work. No idea what they’re doing, though. They’re not killing randomly, and they’re being very quiet about it. But other than that, I’ve got nothing to go on.”
“I’m still looking into who might have been helping these people get your phone number. We checked into the dead cop, Jerry, and he had some large deposits in his bank account, but he had no way of getting hold of your phone number. Dad’s not exactly thrilled about a breach of security, so I’m trying to hold him off from hoisting everyone into the air by their ankles until they say something. He’s already moved on from thumbscrews, so I think the staff are safe for another day.”
“How’s your mum doing?”
“Angry. Probably angrier than Dad. Dad expects this shit once in a while, but Mom treats everyone like family. So to her, this is a huge betrayal. She wanted Dad to drag Jerry’s spirit back from wherever it is so he can question him. Dad refused, saying it was like searching for a needle in a country-size needle stack. Mom didn’t exactly take his sarcasm well. I believe he’s sleeping in the den. Or the floor. Whichever she decided was going to be the least comfortable.”
Persephone had a mean temper when someone angered her. And she held a grudge for just long enough to be able to gain some measure of revenge at some point. She wasn’t cruel or vindictive, but she could be a very dangerous adversary when she’d been offended. As Hades knew all too well.
I told Sky to give her family my best and she said she’d stay in touch.
Caitlin woke just as I ended the call. She rubbed her eyes and stretched. “Did you miss me?” she asked.
“I kept busy,” I said and explained about the phone calls.
“So, who is this mystery person we’re…sorry, you’re meeting.”
“A four-star general by the name of Roberto Cortez.”
“Why is he so important to what’s happening?”
“For years the werelions and werewolves were at war with one another. It was mostly a cold war; occasionally there were skirmishes, but nothing of huge note. That changed a thousand years ago. No one is really sure what started it—whether it was wolves killing lions or lions killing wolves, but it changed everything into a full-blown conflict. There were plenty of attempts at solving it, at trying to make peace, but nothing ever took for more than a few months. Eventually peace was reached, but it was decided that someone had to figure out exactly how many lions and wolves there were. Roberto got to personally track every single werelion in North America. If anyone can tell us who they might be, or who turned them originally, it’s Roberto.”
“What if this lion isn’t originally from here?”
“Then we’re going to have to try a different tactic, but I’m hoping he has an idea of who might have turned them. From there we could find out who they are.”
“But if he gets found out?”
“By asking for his help, I’m sort of breaking a few rules. I should go through proper channels, but that would take too long.”
“Will he do it?”
“Depends on whether he still considers owing me.”
I used my phone to open the email I’d been sent and downloaded the file. I passed Caitlin my phone and she flicked through the various documents. “Bill Moon had files on these people?”
“These are the victims from across the country.”
I took my phone back and downloaded the information about the three potential killers. “What about these three?”
“Not sure,” she said a little quicker than I’d expected. “We don’t have any images of the killers, so these are possibilities.”
“The names Patricia, Bianca or Joshua mean anything to you?”
“No.”
I told her my theory about them being dragged across the country to kill in Maine.
“That’s a lot of extra work,” she said when I’d finished. “Dangerous, too.”
“I don’t suppose that when Bill spoke to you he mentioned anything about the survivors of what happened in ’77? I’m not great at recognizing faces.” I flicked through the
pictures on my phone. “Some of these people look familiar, if a lot older than I remember. I’d guess that they were the ’77 survivors.”
“He said there were no files, that most of them moved away from the town. But no one kept tabs on them, so I can’t tell you if those people were the survivors of back then.”
“Can you check if a Glen or Fern live in town? They’re the only two names I remember who aren’t in these files.”
She made a quick phone call and relayed the information. “There’s no one in town by those names,” she said, sounding deflated. “You think those lions got to them?”
“No idea. There could be more missing people, there were a lot of bones in that cave. But that leaves the question of why allow the hikers to be found? Did any of them have markings, tattoos on them?”
“Big chunks of their flesh were missing—it’s possible they had tattoos, but there wasn’t enough of them to find out. As for why they were left to be discovered, maybe someone interrupted them.”
“Hopefully we’ll get answers. Didn’t you say your dad works in D.C.?”
“Yeah, I did. Although, I’m not exactly relishing the fact of meeting him.”
“You two don’t get on?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just ever since my mom and brother vanished, he’s always been distant toward me.” Caitlin was quiet for a moment. “I’m not saying he doesn’t love me, or that he was mean or anything like that. It’s just we grew apart. He threw himself into his work and whenever I see him there’s usually an argument about one case or another I’m working on. He says I get too close to things, that I should back off. Doesn’t matter what the case is, I’m always too close according to him. Okay, that must sound nuts.”
“Not at all,” I said. “I don’t know who my dad is. Nor my mum, for that matter. I grew up in Camelot and the closest thing I had to a father was probably Merlin, although that changed when he decided to start training me. Then I was his pupil and nothing more. I always got the impression there were things he wanted to tell me, but after a while that vanished and I never knew if there really was something or if it were all in my mind.”
“So, do you ever wonder about who your parents really are?”
I opened my mouth to say that it wasn’t something I dwelled on anymore, that it had been a long time since I’d even thought about it, but the captain announced that we’d soon be landing.
“Another time,” I told her as the jet made its final approach toward a city containing both unbridled power and corruption.
CHAPTER 18
Now, I’m not saying that I hate Washington, D.C., certainly no more than any other capital city. But due to the fact that D.C. was also a neutral city, there tended to be a lot more people vying for whatever scraps of power they could find.
To be fair, there were a lot of scraps lying around, but once someone had a taste they always wanted more. Avalon also had a large interest in the city, which made everyone else feel slightly uneasy, as if Avalon could just take over the whole place and remove those with whom they didn’t agree.
To the outside human looking in, it would have appeared crazy with very little actually getting done, but all the little deals and handshakes that were carried out were usually in place for a long-term plan. On top of all the dealing, there were people who just looked out for themselves. Making everyone else’s job a thousand times harder.
So, I tended to stay away from the city. I was never sure who exactly knew what and where people’s allegiances lay, and so long as they didn’t interfere in my life, I was quite happy to live in ignorant bliss.
We left the airport and grabbed a taxi, and after dropping Caitlin off outside her father’s office, I got the driver to drop me off near the Lincoln Memorial.
As per every single time I’d visited the impressive structure, the entire area was full of tourists, both domestic and foreign. Yet it didn’t feel busy. People sat on the steps chatting or looking out over the reflecting pool. Others took photos of the building and its surroundings. It was quite a peaceful place, even during the day.
“Did you ever meet him?” Roberto asked me as stopped at the spot where Doctor King gave his speech.
I turned around and shook my friend’s hand. Roberto looked, contrary to the laws of time, younger than when I’d last seen him almost thirty years earlier. One of the benefits of being a shape-shifter who can control how he looks. “Who, Lincoln or King?”
“Either?”
“Lincoln, once. He was an interesting man, and very clever. I never had the pleasure of meeting King, though. I wasn’t even in America when he gave his speech here. Did you meet them?”
“I met Doctor King a few times. I was here the day of his speech. We’d been given information that some enemies of Avalon wanted to cause trouble here to make a point. We didn’t allow that to happen.”
“And Lincoln?”
“I was assigned to give him his First Meeting.”
The First Meeting was an old tradition that went back to the formation of the first monarchy of England. When someone was elected or crowned, either as a head of state, or a government, an agent of Avalon was sent to let the new person in charge know exactly where they were in the pecking order. Some didn’t take the meeting well and refused to play along. They tended to be removed fairly quickly. Usually on a permanent basis.
“How did that go?”
“I was probably more nervous than he was. He just sat and listened and at the end shook my hand and told me he had a job to do. Only other man I had an issue meeting was Teddy Roosevelt, I thought he was going to shoot me.”
I laughed. “I met him, twice. He was a hell of a force. If he hadn’t been human, he’d have changed the world.”
“You’re not kidding. Did you ever get nervous about any First Meetings?”
“A few,” I admitted. “Henry VII was a difficult one for me. I tried very hard not to kill him within the first few seconds.”
“Why?”
“I liked Richard III, he didn’t deserve the death or reputation he got. Henry was a big part of making sure Richard was vilified. Charles II was an interesting one—I’m pretty sure he was either drunk or stoned for the entire meeting. I met George Washington, too. Merlin wanted me to be the first thing the new country saw. To know exactly where they stood. I’d met him a few times before the war, so he already knew the score, but it was still a big deal. It didn’t help that I actually admired him. To take on King George and win, was something I was sure the king was never going to let go.”
“Didn’t Merlin tell King George that America was off limits?”
I nodded. “He wanted to send every soldier he had to take back this land. He was told very nicely to mind his own business and stay out of it or he’d be removed from power.”
We walked down the stairs and toward the Reflecting Pool, passing a large group of tourists and their guide as we went.
“You know,” Roberto said when we were out of earshot, “the number of times you’ve asked for a favor since we’ve known each other is zero. My assistant wasn’t very happy to give me a message to meet someone she hadn’t vetted.”
“I’m not exactly flush with time on this one. Send her some flowers from me, if it’ll make your life easier.”
We stopped beside the pool and Roberto took a deep breath. “Why are you here, Nate?”
“I was in Maine and was attacked by a pride of werelions. Werelions who appear to be continuing Simon Olson’s work.”
Roberto’s expression darkened and he cracked his knuckles. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “Pretty sure. I need your help trying to figure out who they are.”
“There are three thousand or so werelions in North America. They may be a lot fewer in number than werewolves, but that doesn’t mean I can just tell you who goes where. I don’t have a list of names, jus
t population numbers, and even that’s about ten years out of date. And I’m not even mentioning how much trouble I could get in for giving you this information.”
“They were Barbary lions,” I told him. “And I know you could get into trouble. I’m asking for the name of one lion who could have turned them. Someone involved with either Simon or the old king of Shadow Falls. If these lions are continuing Simon’s mission, then they would have met with people in a position of enough power to tell them what to do.”
“Do you have any evidence?”
I shook my head. “They went after the old victims who lived through what happened. Then they waited around for two years before killing again. Someone fed them that information, maybe the same person who turned them.”
Roberto rubbed the back of his neck. “If I do this for you, it didn’t come from me. I like it here, I like my job. I enjoy working with the people around me. It takes a huge amount of work to ensure that I look like a younger version of myself every few decades. I do not wish to throw away all my hard work because it got out that I gave you classified information.”
“I promise you, it stays between us.”
He removed a card from his pocket and passed it to me. “I’ll call in one hour with that name. My phone is clean, so there are no worries about people listening in. I’ll find out who this werelion is. If there are people out there taking up Simon’s insanity, they need to be stopped.”
Roberto actually called after an hour and seventeen minutes. I knew because it interrupted the game of Picross I’d started on my phone just after he’d left. I stood up from the memorial steps and walked off to an emptier area.
“Can I assume you’ve found something?” I asked.
“What I’m about to tell you goes no further.”
“I’ll try not to post it online.”
