Curse of Fangs: An Ian Dex Supernatural Thriller Book 6 (Las Vegas Paranormal Police Department)

by John P. Logsdon

  “Sentries,” Griff noted. “There are likely more in the area.”

  Both Felicia and I began sniffing around.

  Literally.

  Sure enough, one was just around the edge of A Touch of Las Vegas Day Spa and Salon.

  “Stay low,” I said as the guy turned and began walking along the building. He turned left at the corner and continued on into the back parking area where deliveries came in. “I have an idea. We need to get a djinn to help us, though.”

  “Yikes,” said Rachel.

  Chapter 31

  I rushed into the Djinn Ink Club and raced through to the back where Elaine, Ted, and Glenn were located. Muscles Milton had chased after me but was dismissed with a flick of Elaine’s wrist. He did not look pleased about that.

  Tough shit.

  “What is it?” Elaine asked.

  “We’ve found Sylvester’s hideout,” I explained, “and he’s got sentries roaming the area. I was hoping I could get you or one of your people to help us extract information from them. He should be out back of this building right now.”

  Elaine didn’t even hesitate. She took a brisk walk through the various cubicles along the back of the office, stepped out into the night air but stayed inside of the hidden zone that protected the exit from being seen.

  “That him?” she whispered as we watched the guy I’d seen earlier clomping past.

  He could see into a null zone, just like any super, but even super’s eyes couldn’t penetrate a hidden zone unless there was magic involved.

  “Yes,” I answered, sniffing the air once more just in case. “He may be able to contact his base, though, so we have—”

  Elaine put her finger to her lips and then motioned me to stay put.

  She walked out of the zone in the opposite direction that the sentry was moving, clearly wanting to ensure he didn’t just see her blink into existence. That would have jarred him, for sure.

  After a few steps, she turned around, looked at the man’s back, rolled her eyes, and then proceeded to fall down.

  “Ouch,” she yelped, acting as though she were injured.

  The guy jumped and spun around, looking ready to pounce. Then he saw Elaine on the ground and rushed over to help her.

  Honestly, I wasn’t expecting that.

  “Are you okay, lady?” he asked as he helped her to her feet. “It’s like you came out of nowhere.”

  “Oh,” she replied, feigning lightheadedness. “I was just leaving the shop through that door there,” she pointed, “and I guess I stepped wrong or something.”

  The poor guy looked quite concerned for her well-being. That made me kind of feel bad because I had the sneaking suspicion that he was going to be pushing up daisies soon. This is what happened when you played for the bad guys, though. Of course it also happened when you played for the good guys, but thankfully not as often.

  “Is there anything I can do?” he asked. “Maybe I can help you to your car?”

  “That would be lovely,” she replied as she put her hand on his neck.

  He slumped almost instantly as Elaine stood up straight, stopping the pain act and regaining her composure.

  “He’s out,” she announced. “Let’s get him inside and see what he knows.”

  “That was fast,” I replied, grabbing the guy by his arm and leading him toward the door. His face resembled what I remembered those zombies from months ago looking like. Zoned out. “I thought it took a little while to put people at your mercy?”

  “It does,” she stated, “but he was already halfway there. That’s why I played the damsel-in-distress card. His mind was already sympathetic toward me. He was emotionally attached to the fact that I was injured, as it were. If he’d have been an asshole, it wouldn’t have worked. Fortunately, he wasn’t.”

  I gave her an appraising look. “Clever.”

  “You learn a thing or two when you’ve been doing this for as long as I have.”

  We got him into the building and lowered him onto one of the leather chairs in Elaine’s office.

  She pulled up another chair and put her hands on his face in such a way that made me think of how that Spock guy from Star Trek used to do that to people when he was reading thoughts and whatnot. I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe the show’s creators got the idea for those little hand gestures from the djinn of yesteryear.

  “Where is your master?” Elaine whispered.

  “Hidden zone behind Tommy Rocker’s,” the guy answered in a voice laced with bliss. “Beside the tree. There is an access panel that leads underground.”

  “Why that particular restaurant?”

  “The boss loves Big Ass Burritos.”

  Elaine glanced over at me with a raised eyebrow.

  “What?” I said. “They are good.”

  She turned back to him. “How many others has your boss infected?”

  “We have an army of nearly fifty,” the guy replied proudly. “We cannot be stopped.”

  “What’s the plan for this army?”

  He jolted slightly. “I don’t know.”

  “You can tell me.”

  “I don’t know,” he said again, this time with more of an edge. “The boss says that underlings are not told these sorts of things.”

  If Sylvester made it out of this unscathed, maybe he could put in for a position with the Directors. They subscribed to that same leadership mentality, after all.

  I went to speak, but Elaine gave me a sharp look and pointed at the whiteboard.

  “How many sentries are there?” I wrote. “And where are their positions?”

  She asked him.

  “Just three of us,” he answered. “My route was to go around the shopping center, keeping an eye out for Officer Ian Dex until the werewolf killed him. The other two are standing near the entrance to the secret area.”

  Fortunately, the guy’s eyes were dulled over or he would have recognized me immediately. He was staring in my general direction. I had no idea if he would have sent word back to Sylvester at that moment or not, but I decided to turn my head slightly, just in case.

  “Did the werewolf kill Officer Dex?” I wrote as my next question.

  Again, Elaine asked it for me.

  “I don’t know,” he answered, looking anxious. “After checking on the werewolf, I had to use the facilities. When I came back out, the werewolf was gone.”

  I then wrote, “Can you make him think I’m dead?”

  Elaine started to ask him that, but I waved her to stop. She gave me a what-the-fuck? look. I replied with a stern grimace and erased what I’d written originally.

  “I’m asking if you can make him think the werewolf has already killed me so Sylvester won’t expect my arrival.”

  “Ahhh,” she mouthed. “Sorry.”

  Then she slightly moved her fingers around on the guy’s face. His brow creased. If I had to guess, I’d say that this new finger layout put him in a bit of pain.

  “You did see the fight,” Elaine instructed him. “The werewolf beat Officer Dex and devoured his head. The wolf also urinated and defecated on the body and threw it into the garbage.”

  “What the fuck?” I wrote on the board. “That’s disgusting.”

  “It’s believable,” she sassed with a whisper. “Deal with it.”

  “It’s believable,” repeated the guy. “I’ll deal with it.”

  Elaine winced and turned back to the dude, obviously recognizing that she had spoken when she shouldn’t have.

  I stuck my tongue out at her.

  “You will go back to your boss and tell him that Officer Dex is dead,” she commanded. “Do you understand?”

  “I understand,” he answered.

  She removed her fingers and his head lulled. He still wasn’t out, but he looked to have seen better days.

  “He’s done,” she said. “Let’s get him out of here.”

  We then got him to his feet and back out to the parking lot. As soon as Elaine was in generally the same
position as she was before she’d put him under her spell earlier, she brought him back to reality.

  “My goodness,” she said as the guy looked around, seemingly confused. “You know, I think I’ll be okay.”

  “Yeah?” he said, clearly baffled and disoriented. “Are…are you sure?”

  “Yes. Thank you so much for being a gentleman.”

  He blinked a few times and shook his head.

  “No problem, ma’am,” he said. “No problem at all.”

  Chapter 32

  After leaving the Djinn Ink Club and waiting for the duped sentry to disappear around the edge of the building, we high-tailed it toward Tommy Rocker’s.

  Although we couldn’t see the sentries due to the hidden zone, Felicia and I could smell them just fine.

  “You take the one on the left and I’ll get the one on the right,” I said.

  “Do you really have to kill them, Chief?” Chuck asked. “It’s not their fault that Sylvester put them under a spell.”

  I held Boomy in check and looked at him.

  “I know this sucks, Chuck,” I said as gently as I could, “but we have to stop this guy. His victims are not capable of highly rational thought at the moment, right?”

  He sighed and looked down. “Right.”

  “Listen,” I whispered, “if you want to head back to the station, I’ll understand.”

  “I’m a cop, Chief,” he replied. “I don’t walk away just because things get inconvenient.”

  “Right.”

  Felicia and I lifted our guns and dropped the two sentries. The one thing about breaker bullets was that they did the job every time, assuming you hit near the heart, at least. This was especially true with the new style of bullet that Turbo had created, having wood, silver, and magical elements all built in.

  We rushed over and entered the hidden area. The two bodies were just empty shells now, but I could still see the angst on Chuck’s face as Griff put a hand on his shoulder. We moved the bodies to sit up against the side wall, which gave them a little bit of respectability.

  “Sorry, Chuck.”

  “I know.”

  Felicia had pulled open the hatch and we saw a wide set of stairs leading down to a concrete floor.

  Just as Felicia went to take the first step, I pulled her back and pointed. She looked, but she clearly didn’t see anything.

  I scanned the faces of the mages, too.

  Nothing.

  “You guys can’t see those runes?”

  Rachel cast a quick spell that dropped a dust-like magical cloud over the area. This sufficed in making the runes glitter.

  “Those are—” Rachel started.

  “Notification, shock, and entanglement runes,” I interrupted. “Yes, I know. I don’t suppose any of you can undo them?”

  Rachel and Jasmine shook their heads. Griff, however, was rubbing his goatee thoughtfully. He turned his head this way and that as if studying them.

  “Griff?” I questioned.

  “I believe I can, but it may take some time. Probably fifteen minutes or so.”

  “I don’t think that’ll work,” I stated and then turned and held my hand out instinctively.

  A beam of particles exited my palm and struck the first rune, slowly erasing it in a very precise way. I knew exactly what was happening, which made it all the more strange.

  “What are you doing?” croaked Jasmine.

  “I’m un-drawing the rune from its end point,” I explained. “You have to do it stroke for stroke in reverse from how it was originally drawn for it to work.”

  The first one was down within a minute. The next two went by even faster.

  “Marry me,” Rachel cooed with a face of awe.

  I squinted at her. “You’re acting really strange.”

  She jolted and blinked.

  “Oh, and you’re not?” she retaliated, showing a little of that Rachel independence again.

  “Touché.”

  I took the first step and slowly descended the staircase. The last thing I wanted to do was rush things and end up tripping over a rune. Since I clearly had the ability to detect and wipe them out, I was able to set the pace for everyone else.

  We reached the bottom of the steps and I heard cheers coming from down the hall.

  A quick scan of the area told me that the runes were only placed at the entrance. That was good, at least.

  The voices grew louder as we turned down one of the hallways that led to a large set of doors.

  I held up my hand and everyone stopped.

  “And I have just had word that Officer Ian Dex has been assassinated!” exclaimed a proud voice.

  More cheers.

  Clearly this was Sylvester doing a rally for his troops.

  “With him out of the way,” he continued, “we’ll be able to take over Las Vegas, and then the world!”

  I glanced back as the vampire army cheered again.

  My crew’s faces were a mixture of hurt and anger. For it to be suggested that I was the only one capable of stopping him was asinine.

  Sylvester clearly didn’t know how good my team was.

  Too bad for that fucker, he and his army were about to find out.

  Chapter 33

  I walked up to the double doors that led into the auditorium and stepped inside.

  “Stay back here,” I said to my team through the connector. “You’ll have the higher ground when the shit hits the fan.”

  Nobody argued. They knew there was no point.

  Sylvester kept on talking until I got about halfway to the stage.

  His voice caught and he looked at me with disbelieving eyes. His followers clearly noted the look on his face because I suddenly felt a bunch of eyes on me. Now that I had their attention, it was time to channel a bit of pixie and rattle his nerves.

  “How’s it going, Sly?” I called out. “You look a little pale. Of course, that could just be because you’re a vampire.” Then I pointed to a woman near me. “She looks kind of tan, so I guess that’s not it.” I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. “Wait, could this be due to the fact that you thought I was dead? I’ll bet that’s it.”

  “Did you just call me ‘Sly’?” he asked in a sinister tone of voice.

  “No good?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Ah, sorry. Maybe you would prefer something a little more colorful, like, say, Sperm Pancake?”

  That jarred him. “What?”

  “Hmmm…maybe Turd Aficionado?” I squinted. “I can see you don’t like that one either.” I rubbed my chin for a moment and then my eyes lit up. “Ah! How about we just go with something simple, like Cunt or Douche?”

  The rage on his face was palpable. I found this quite humorous, but one look at my team told me that they weren’t fond of me riling up the man who was holding the leash on this crowd.

  They had a point.

  “Alternately,” I said, chewing my lip, “I suppose I could just call you Sylvester. Wouldn’t be my first choice, but I know how some people are incapable of taking a joke.”

  My smile was one of the shit-eating variety.

  “Kill them,” Sylvester commanded.

  The vampires turned toward us, but I held up my hand.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” I objected. “You haven’t even given me the bad-guy speech yet.” The vampires paused. “Honestly, how can you expect your followers to take you seriously if you don’t stick to the evil overlord basics?”

  “I…what?” he said, looking like his brain had suddenly starting throbbing. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, come on, Sly!” I put my hand to my mouth in faux concern. “Sorry…Sylvester. Everyone knows that the bad guy spills his guts to the good guys before he kills them. It’s like page one of the naughty rulebook.” I pointed at him. “I’m not talking about the sexual naughty rulebook here, but rather the evil one. Just so you know.”

  He scanned the crowd and clearly noted that their faces were all turned back to
him now. Obviously, they were waiting for his response, which should have been a reiteration to kill us all, but I had the feeling he was actually going to spill his guts.

  Gullible.

  “So, what’s the big plan, you festering testicle?” I asked, crossing my arms. “Something fresh and exciting, like maybe taking over a fast-food chain of restaurants and raising the prices to something exorbitant?”

  He grimaced. “Huh?”

  “Maybe you’re planning to rig hotdog eating contests so that you can get your name into the record books?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” he rasped. “Those things are ridiculous!”

  I looked thoughtful for a moment before slowly letting my face sink. Then I dropped my head forward and began shaking it. It was overly dramatic, yes, but I was trying to play him here.

  “Get your magic ready, guys,” I said through the connector, “and start planning your attack strategy. Sly’s going to blow up at any moment. The madder I get him, the better our chances that he’ll overreact.”

  “Oh no,” I wailed like I was in a Shakespearian play. “Please don’t tell me you’re planning something incredibly cliché like taking over the town.”

  “Well…” he started, but then coughed.

  “Gah! And here I was thinking that you were a higher class of bad guy, Sly!” I groaned and grabbed at my hair. “For fuck’s sake. Do you have any idea how many assholes do the I’m-going-to-take-over-the-town routine? It’s so boring!”

  “But it’s—”

  “Boring, you pee hole,” I interrupted, glaring up at him. “I’ve been a cop in the Vegas PPD for seven years, Sly. Over that time, I’ve dealt with everything from petty theft to idiots like you who are planning to take over the town. Now, in that seven years of working on the force, how many of those pimply cornholers do you think have succeeded in taking over the town?”

  He opened his mouth and closed it a couple of times as his eyes darted from face to face. It was clear that he was starting to sweat. The fighting would start soon.