Department 18 [02] Night Souls

by Maynard Sims

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Jacek said.

  “I agree, but what would you say if I told you that this conspiracy isn’t just limited to Poland but encompasses the whole of Eastern Europe: Romania, Bulgaria, Serbia, Croatia. It even reaches deep into Russia.”

  Jacek looked at him sharply.

  “It’s true, my friend. In fact it’s not just limited to Eastern Europe. In nearly every country of the world people are plucked from their lives, never to be seen again. And this isn’t a recent phenomenon. It has been happening for years, for centuries. It’s a conspiracy on a global scale.”

  Jacek paid his bill and took a slow, meandering walk back toward his apartment, his mind picking Pike’s story apart, examining each aspect of it, and trying to dismiss it as the ramblings of a deranged mind. He was so lost in his thoughts he failed to notice the black Fiat with its lights off, crawling along the road a hundred yards back, tailing him.

  A few minutes later he became aware of the car’s engine. As he glanced back along the road, the car’s lights came on, glaring into his eyes. The engine surged and before he could move, before he realized what was happening, the Fiat was beside him, the doors flying open.

  Three men leaped from the car, two of them grabbing Jacek, twisting his arms behind his back. The third man had something hard and heavy in his hand. His arm swung, and the heavy object cracked down on Jacek’s skull. There was a searing pain, a bright, flashing light, and then blackness as he was hauled into the back of the Fiat.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Focusing on the act of breathing clears the mind of all daily distractions and clears our energy enabling us to better connect with the Spirit within.

  —Author Unknown

  King’s College Hospital, London, England

  It was quiet in Carter’s room. The plastic chair vibrated for a short while after Jane had left, but that had long since gone still.

  Carter wished his mind could also be still.

  For all his abilities, all his precognition, awareness, and skill, this was something he hadn’t seen coming. He loved Jane, and he knew—thought he knew—that she felt the same way.

  He had treated her badly some time ago, immediately after the Paris trip, but he had done that to protect her. He didn’t want her to feel obliged to him then, to have the guilt that would inevitably be part of the fallout of telling her husband. Then there were the two young children.

  He had judged, rightly or wrongly, that he should end the affair before it began. He hadn’t realized just how much that decision would affect him, how much he missed and needed her. Or how much she resented him for, in her eyes, using and dumping her.

  When they were able to rekindle the relationship, on that cursed Scottish island, it felt so right that he knew it was the only thing to do.

  A whisper in his ear did warn him that she had perhaps wanted the relationship again because David had left her and seemingly found someone else. But Robert was so pleased that they were together again that he pushed doubt to one side.

  Now, as soon as David called, she was back with her husband again. Yet, “I love you, Rob.” She had said it emphatically, no strings, no doubts, no uncertainties.

  So why did he feel so uncertain now?

  The door to his hospital room opened and Paula, the nurse on current shift, came in. She took his temperature, checked the monitors and the drips, and fussed with his pillows and bedcovers.

  “How are we today, Robert?”

  The we was their little joke, built up over a few visits. There was a doctor who always asked the patient how we were, never listening to the reply before plowing on with “good,” “splendid,” and other banalities.

  Paula asked her question with a complicit grin.

  “We are fine. How are we?”

  “We, I am fine, but then I’ve not been beaten up, brought into A&E, then attacked in my room by God knows what.”

  “You should get out more.”

  Paula opened the window a little. “Was that your girlfriend I saw leaving? She looked nice.”

  Carter shut his eyes and sighed. Paula noticed. She also noticed the guarded reply when he opened his eyes and looked at her. “Nice. Yes, she is.”

  Paula was not even thirty, but she had seen life. “Married?”

  Carter nodded, impressed. “With children.”

  “It’s you she wants, though.”

  Carter forced a smile; he wasn’t so sure. “Female intuition?”

  Paula snorted her derision. “Lot of twaddle, that is. Because we’re female we’re psychic, are we? I don’t think so.”

  Carter resisted commenting on the psychic aspect, though it reminded him that Jane was not only battling with emotions about splitting with David, but was having to come to terms with rediscovering her psychic powers. She had been forced to admit them to herself after years of denial. That had taken a lot out of her. He also had to remember that only recently the Kulsay case had taken a huge physical and emotional toll.

  “So if it’s not because you’re female, then how do you know?”

  Paula ticked the chart at the foot of the bed. She produced some tablets from her pocket. “Here, take these.” She held the glass of water to his lips, though once the neck brace had been removed he found he was able to move relatively freely. “Not because I’m female, no, but because I was in love with a doctor once, and he loved his wife, who in turn loved him. I did a lot of crying, just like your girlfriend as she left here today.”

  Carter guessed Jane would cry as she left; it was a hard thing she had decided.

  Paula opened the door. “Sobbing she was. Your dinner won’t be long. Try to rest.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Krakow, Poland

  As his senses came crawling back, Jacek became aware of the smell of warm vinyl. He was being held down, flat against the backseat of the Fiat. He didn’t struggle. His head was aching so hard from the blow it felt as if his brain had been dislodged and was floating about in his skull. The driver seemed to be finding every pothole and bump in the road, and with each bump, brain crashed against bone, sending a new wave of pain scorching through his head.

  He tried to keep count of the passing seconds but soon realized he was phasing in and out of consciousness. Eventually he stopped fighting it and let himself drift.

  He was vaguely aware the car had stopped. He heard voices; then the door opened and hard hands pulled him from the vehicle. There was no strength in his legs, and when he tried to stand, his knees gave way and he crumpled to the ground.

  “Get him on his feet!” someone snapped, and more hands grabbed him under the arms, hauling him upright and propping him against the side of the Fiat. Someone yanked his hair, forcing his head backward. A flashlight beam glared into his eyes, blinding him. He couldn’t see who was holding the flashlight and could only make out the indistinct outlines of the people surrounding him.

  “He’s all right. Get him inside.”

  And then he was being half-carried, half-dragged across the stony ground. A house loomed in front of him, and he was pulled up a short flight of stone steps. A door opened, and someone pushed him through it. He lost his footing and fell again. This time he was left to get up by himself, encouraged by a well-aimed boot to the solar plexus. “On your feet!”

  Jacek looked up at the man who had kicked him. He was quite small, but stocky, his muscles looking hard and toned, stretching the Metallica T-shirt he wore. The man kept smiling and pulled his foot back to kick again. Jacek swore under his breath and pushed himself to his feet. The man took his arm and led him across the flagstone hallway to another door. With his free hand, the man twisted the handle and pushed the door open. “Inside,” he said and let go of Jacek’s arm.

  The room was dimly lit and heavily shadowed. He could make out two chairs, wingback and large, that faced a dying log fire surrounded by a marble fireplace.

  “Don’t stand there all night, Jacek. Come closer.” A
woman’s voice came from the direction of the fireplace, speaking in English but with an American accent. The voice was husky, almost seductive. “I said come closer. I want to see you.”

  Jacek walked shakily across the worn rug toward the fire. When he reached the chairs, he hesitated for a moment before looking down at the woman who sat there. She was in her late twenties, possibly early thirties, and beautiful. Her blonde hair was cut into a long layered bob that framed delicate features: soft, full lips; a straight, perfectly proportioned nose; and the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

  “Good evening,” she said. “I must apologize for the manner of your arrival here, but I didn’t think a simple invitation would have persuaded you to come.”

  Jacek continued to stare at her. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t bring to mind where he’d seen her before.

  She seemed amused by his interest. A slight smile played on her lips and traveled up to her eyes, making them glint in the firelight. “My name is Rachel Grey,” she said, the amusement reaching her voice. “Sit down, Jacek.” She indicated the vacant chair. “We have a lot to talk about.”

  What the hell, Jacek thought. If he didn’t sit down soon, he’d fall down. He slumped into the chair next to her.

  “You’ve become a thorn in the side of many people in this country. Did you realize that?”

  Jacek said nothing.

  “So much so that I have been asked to take care of you. And by that, I don’t mean I’m here to look out for your welfare. They want me to eradicate you, to make you go away…permanently.”

  “So what are you waiting for? I assume you’re waiting for something. Otherwise your thugs would have taken me somewhere private and killed me.”

  “That’s very true. And I’m going out on a limb here by not following instructions. I just feel that, pain in the ass though you are, you’re more useful to me alive than dead.”

  “Useful to you? How?” Jacek was intrigued, despite himself.

  She smiled. It was a smile that lit up her face and made her even more beautiful. “I believe you met with Jason Pike tonight,” she said.

  For a moment Jacek said nothing. So they were watching him.

  “He approached me, yes,” Jacek said guardedly. His head was throbbing, and having to squint to see her clearly in the light from the fire was doing him no favors.

  She nodded. “Quite. And I suspect he told you an amazing story, most of which was true.”

  His eyes widened slightly as he took this onboard.

  “He told you about a race of beings living alongside humans like yourself, feeding off your life force. Tell me, did he use the charming phrase ‘soul fuckers’? He probably did. It’s a favorite of his.”

  “So what are you telling me? He’s right? These creatures exist?”

  Her smile widened. “Of course. You are in the company of one of them at this very moment.”

  Jacek started from his seat, but she quickly laid a hand across his arm. “Don’t be alarmed. As I said, I don’t intend to harm you.”

  He relaxed slightly, took a breath. “Was it you who ransacked my apartment?”

  She laughed, a soft sound, like water flowing over stones. “No, Jacek. That wasn’t us. Jason Pike broke into your apartment and trashed it. We’ve been watching him for weeks as well. That’s how we found out he was interested in you. Jason is building an army to fight us. He’s recruiting, and I think he sees you as a useful asset.”

  Jacek shook his head. “So why would he wreck my apartment? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “In his mind it does. By blaming us for the break-in, it made you feel that you were in some kind of danger from us. I suspect it was a ploy to persuade you to join forces with him.” She paused and reached over to the fireplace, picking up a poker from the hearth and stabbing at a dead-looking log in the grate, flipping it over. The log popped and hissed as new flames leapt up.

  “You see,” she said, pointing at the log with the poker and looking up at him. “With the right manipulation, it’s easy to breathe fire into the most unpromising materials.”

  Jacek stared into the grate. “Okay, so what do you want from me?”

  Rachel Grey ignored the question. “There’s one very important thing you should know about Jason Pike,” she said. “And that is, he is not quite what he seems.”

  “Really?” Jacek said, with the best attempt at disinterest he could manage.

  “I don’t mean his duplicity and manipulations. This is something much more basic.” She paused, weighing her next sentence carefully. “Jason Pike is not human. He is, in fact, one of us.”

  Jacek wasn’t sure how to react. He should have been surprised at least, but with everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, he was beyond such a simple reaction.

  “So why is he against you?”

  “There’s a power struggle going on at the moment,” Rachel Grey said. “A little while ago, one of the elders of our race, a man called Abe Holly, was killed. He was our leader in North America, and his death left a vacuum. We, like nature, abhor a vacuum. Understand, this is not an elected post. Usually Holly’s position would be filled by his next of kin, and that is what has happened. John Holly took over. But John Holly has ideas that many of us find difficult to accept. There are several disparate groups in the States, each with their own agenda and each with their own aspirant eager to fill Holly’s shoes.”

  “Let me guess. You’re one of them.”

  Amusement glowed in her eyes. “Yes, Jacek, I am. And the struggle for supremacy is now spreading worldwide.”

  Jacek was losing patience. “This is all very interesting, but you’re not answering my questions. I’m dragged off the street, beaten up, and brought here, for what? A history lesson?”

  She picked up the poker again and began prodding the log with short, stabbing movements. For all her apparent serenity, Jacek could tell there was a lot more going on beneath the surface. There was a reservoir of pent-up anger there, and aggression, well hidden by the demure facade.

  “No, Jacek,” she said. “It’s much more than that. This power struggle has caused huge divisions. There is so much in-fighting and we are so fragmented, it’s left us vulnerable to outside attack. Pike isn’t interested in entering that arena, but he sees it as an opportunity to destroy us. He hates what he is. He hates us. I’m sure if the opportunity presented itself, he would wipe us all from the face of the earth.”

  “I still don’t see where I fit into all this,” Jacek said.

  Rachel Grey smiled. “Well, as I said, Pike wants you to join his army.”

  “And you?”

  “I want you to join his army as well. I want you to get close to him, let him confide in you.”

  “You want me to spy for you, is that it?”

  “In a nutshell, yes. I need someone on the inside, giving me advance warning of his plans, telling me what his mindset is, what he’s thinking.”

  It was Jacek’s turn to laugh. “Why the hell should I help you? So you can continue to feed on us? You’re out of your mind.”

  She laid a hand gently on his arm again, a sisterly gesture. “You will help me, Jacek. You’ll join Pike’s army and you’ll tell me exactly what he’s planning.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  Her features hardened, and for the first time the real Rachel Grey was visible. “If you don’t, you’ll never see your niece alive again.”

  Jacek was out of his chair before Rachel Grey could blink. His hands were at her throat. “Julia’s alive? You know where she is?”

  And then he was grabbed and hauled away from her. Three men emerged from the shadows of the room where they had been watching the exchange. Two held his arms while his assailant from earlier sank a hard fist into his stomach. He folded, all the air knocked out of him. Rachel Grey was on her feet, smoothing her immaculately bobbed hair, looking as serene as before.

  “Yes, Jacek. Julia is alive and well. If you do as I ask, you will be reunited wi
th her. If you don’t then…Well, I don’t think I need to spell it out.”

  Jacek hung there, supported by the men, and struggled to get his breath back. “Prove it,” he gasped. “I want proof she’s alive.”

  Rachel Grey sighed. “But of course you do.” She turned to Jacek’s assailant. “Carl, bring me the photographs.” To the other two she said, “Put him back in the chair…but watch him carefully.”

  Without ceremony they dumped Jacek into the chair, then stood, flanking him.

  “Sometimes we don’t kill those we take,” she said, resuming her seat. “Sometimes it amuses us to do more. Your kind can sometimes make excellent pets. As you would keep a cat or a dog, we keep some of the more appealing of your kind.”

  Jacek said nothing but glared at her furiously.

  “There is a couple in England who were very taken with Julia, so much so that we flew her out of the country, a mere twelve hours after she was taken.” She looked at Jacek with something like compassion. “Poor Jacek. All that fruitless effort of searching the length and breadth of Poland, and the girl wasn’t even here.”

  Carl returned with a white envelope. He handed it to Rachel Grey and then went to stand behind Jacek’s chair. Rachel Grey slid her finger under the flap of the envelope and pulled out a small sheaf of photographs. She handed them to Jacek.

  “See for yourself. They’re all date stamped. As you will see, the most recent was taken the day before yesterday.”

  Jacek took the photographs and started leafing through them.

  There was no doubt the girl in the photographs was his brother’s daughter, Julia. She had changed little in the time she’d been missing. She’d filled out a little; the hair was longer, the face a little fuller. Many of the photos depicted her in the garden of a large house. Julia sitting on a swing, Julia dangling her feet in a fishpond, Julia lying on the grass reading. In each of the pictures her expression was the same. She was smiling, but Jacek had grown to know his niece well. He had been her favorite uncle and had spent a lot of his free time doting on her, taking her on picnics, taking her sightseeing, or simply just spending hours in conversation. He nursed her through the beginning, middle, and end of her first romance. He dried her tears when it was all over and was more than happy to hear about the next boyfriend and the next. He had been at her wedding and at the birth of her child.