Civil Seer

by C. M. Cevis

  Nick nodded. “I’ll call and see if he can make his way,” he said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

  ~ ~

  ALEX’S CLASS WAS FILING OUT of the room when his phone began vibrating across the desk. He thought about ignoring it—he was tired and wanted nothing more than a beer and a nap—but decided against it when he saw who it was.

  “Hey Nick, what’s up?” Part of him figured it was another body, but he didn’t want to be the one to bring up something so morbid.

  “You still want to see the vic from that case file? Because it’ll have to be either today or tomorrow,” Nick said on the other end of the call.

  Alex hesitated. “Yeah, I do. Tomorrow. And if I can, I’d like to bring Willow with me.”

  Silence.

  Then, “Why?”

  Alex rummaged around in his brain to try and think of a way to ask without giving away too much.

  “Did Willow tell you…” He stopped and frowned. He wasn’t sure how to finish that.

  “That she’s a witch? Yes.”

  Alex let out a relieved sigh. “A witch, yes. A powerful witch that can do things most people don’t know she can do. Things that may help this case, but she has to get in there with the body.” He heard Nick sigh.

  “Is this the clairvoyance thing?”

  “Perhaps, but I don’t know since the body isn’t fresh anymore. But there are other things. Things that I don’t know enough about to explain, but that won’t compromise anything with the investigation.” Well, he was pretty sure that it wouldn’t.

  “All right, Alex, you can bring her. But if she screws something up, you’re getting arrested with her,” Nick said.

  Alex grinned and began shoving things into his bag. “Fair enough. She told me that she has another presentation with your rookies tomorrow. We can go see the body afterward.”

  “Yeah all right. See you then,” Nick said before ending the call.

  ~ ~

  WILLOW PULLED UP TO THE curb in front of BWI airport to pick up the massive dark man that stood there waiting for her.

  His name was King. Just King. If he had a last name, he hadn’t felt the need to share, and Willow hadn’t asked. There were several peculiar things about King. For one, she had no idea how old he was, though she was pretty sure it was at least a century. He didn’t look a day over thirty. He was built like a walking refrigerator, standing six foot five and almost as wide as most doorways. His skin was like a smooth dark chocolate, almost midnight dark, but with what looked to be tribal scarring on his cheeks under each eye. It was those scars that made Willow think he was African, though he didn’t have a discernable accent. Spirituals and mystics from Africa were a different story from natives, and she knew that. While there were things that made her special, there were many more things that made him special. Things that he didn’t want to talk about.

  They’d met years ago, and he’d followed her since then, stating that he believed in her. When she’d opened her club in New York, he’d become the head bouncer for the place, and while Willow had always thought that the position seemed beneath him, for lack of a better term, it was a position that he enjoyed, and she paid him well for it. When he’d found out that she was moving back to Baltimore after the incident, he said he was moving too. So there she was, picking him up.

  “How goes things so far?” King asked as he climbed into the truck. It sunk under his weight. The man was all muscle, and Willow didn’t want to think about how much he actually weighed. Instead, she put the truck in drive and put her foot on the gas.

  “Really well, actually. Opening night had a line around the block,” she said with a laugh.

  King chuckled. “I looked into this city before we moved, and it seems starved for a good night spot. You’re scratching an itch.”

  Willow grinned and nodded. “I’ve already met the local police, before you ask, and did my first presentation.”

  King was huge on obeying authority figures, which made the fact that he abided Willow being a madam seem odd to her. She didn’t question it too much though. It wasn’t broken, so she saw no reason to fix it.

  “Good. I don’t want you to have to go to jail,” he said.

  “Don’t worry, they’ll never catch me,” she said, winking at her friend.

  “You always say that.”

  “And I’m always right.” She frowned. “Except that one time…”

  King laughed, a deep belly laugh that Willow swore rocked the truck.

  “Once is enough. What about that weaselly brother of yours?”

  King did not like Jason. Hell, no one liked Jason. He was an ass and had no morals whatsoever. But he was an excellent money man for Willow’s business. And knew better than to cross his sister.

  “He’s coming too, but not for a few weeks. Don’t worry, he’s terrified of you after the last time he pissed you off. I doubt you’ll ever catch sight of him now.” She giggled.

  “Which is exactly the way I want it,” King said, frowning. He really didn’t like Jason. “Can we go to the club? I want to see what we’re working with, so I can begin to hire my people.”

  Willow nodded, mentally calculating where she’d need to get off the highway. She still was figuring out the routes in this city. “Sure. We can go there first. And then, to the apartment. Take a break, King. Relax, unpack, unwind. It’s all right.”

  King sighed. He hated taking breaks, and Willow knew it, but sometimes he needed one.

  “How is Chloe?” he asked.

  Willow grinned involuntarily. “She’s doing well.”

  “Is that because she told you? Or because you can still feel her?”

  Willow reached down the bond that she shared with Chloe, and a slight ringing in her ears began, like always. But past that, she felt warmth and contentment. Almost like she was sleeping.

  “Both.”

  12

  "VAMPIRE HIERARCHY IS A BIT odd, so let's start there today. Do you all know anything about it?" Willow asked. She was trying to be more interactive instead of just spouting off information. She'd read somewhere that it helped people retain what she was saying. It wasn’t something she needed in her day job.

  "Don't they have a direct... something?" one of the rookies who'd chosen to sit in the front asked.

  Willow smiled. "Look at you, being all smart. Yes, the Directorate. They are authority figures for the vampires, much like the Chamber for witches. But the Directorate has one big caveat." Willow paused, looking around to see if anyone knew the answer.

  "They have division heads," Nina said, coming into the room. Her arms were folded, but she was smiling, and the animosity seemed to be mostly gone from her gaze. Willow felt her smile grow.

  "That is correct, Captain." she said, letting her eyes linger on the woman before going back to focusing on the room. "The Directorate appoints heads for each division, called Suzerains. They handle the day-to-day issues and enforce laws that are already in place. However, handing down laws and rules, rescinding old laws and rules, or handling issues that cross division lines are dealt with by the Directorate themselves. You do not want to deal with the Directorate themselves," she said, making it a point to make sure that everyone heard her. No one else needed to learn that lesson the hard way.

  "Why?" someone towards the back of the room asked. Willow's eyes immediately snapped to the face of the man.

  "Because when you are human, being tortured like you are a vampire is painful, to put it lightly," she said. The man looked suddenly nervous but shut up. "Now, as I was saying: the Suzerains. The man in charge of this area is named Maxim Blyth. From what I understand, he's a very logical and fair man to deal with, though I can't speak from firsthand experience. Regardless, try not to piss him off, hmm?" She smiled at the heads nodding around the room.

  “A few things to note, considering your line of work. Vampire insanity is very rare, but it does happen. If you find yourself walking onto a vampire scene that is gory, graphic, shocking—assume tha
t the being is insane, and watch your ass. Vampires don’t normally leave a lot behind when it comes to murder. There is nothing more terrifying than a super-powered, blood-hungry basket case.” She paused, making sure that the information was sinking in as much as she could. There were enough vampires in Baltimore that she wanted them to understand the danger. “Insanity is an immediate death sentence from the Directorate, as there is nothing that anyone has found to return the vampire to themselves. The last thing anyone wants in the news is a very strong, very fast, insane predator. Insanity is one of the rare times that the Directorate will work with others to find and eliminate the threat. Normally, the Directorate and local PD simply cross paths from time to time,” Willow explained.

  “Can you tell us anything about biting, and how that works?” Nick asked from his usual place at the back of the room.

  Willow nodded. “Sure. First thing to note Is that there is always a puncture wound if it is a vampire kill. It may be a sloppy puncture wound that was torn and resembles a gash, but it will still be there. The wounds do not heal themselves. It’s also good to note that one vampire cannot drain a body of all of its blood. If a body is dry, it took three to four vampires working together.” Willow paused, thinking. “What else? Oh, if a vampire is in the process of drinking you, he or she can hear your thoughts and root around in your head. It’s good to note if there are things rattling around that you don’t want people to know about. If you ingest their blood, they will continue to have access to your head space for a few days. It’s possible to keep them out, but it’s not easy. I will teach you if you think that would be useful.”

  “You can keep them out?” one of the rookies asked.

  “I can keep them out in my sleep, but that’s because I practice. A lot,” Willow said with a chuckle. "The rest of the vampire bit is probably well known. The fangs do not fully retract into the jaw, but most of them have mastered smiling and laughing without showing them. Those who do still show them are usually either new or arrogant. They are stronger and faster than you, and yes, you are food. However, the Directorate does not condone killing, only drinking. Killing will get a vampire a visit from people he doesn't want to be visited by."

  Willow began to pace as she spoke. She wanted to make sure that she covered it all.

  “Keep in mind that there are three types of vampires: half-bloods, wellborn and made. Made vampires are exactly what you think they are—they are the ones Hollywood has made a killing exploiting. They are created by other vampires through the exchange of blood, death, and resurrection as undead. Wellborn vampires are the children of two vampires, and considered the high society of vampires. They are customarily much more powerful than any other type of vampire. They are born human and stop aging at a date determined by genetics. Once they reach that age, they will die one night, their last night as a human. They resurrect a few days later as a full blooded wellborn vampire, and the process is complete. It’s something that looked at like humans see puberty—simply a part of growing up.”

  “Half-bloods are people who are half vampire and half something else. There aren’t a lot of these, as usually the children are stillborn. Because of the high mortality rate, a half-blood is coveted, but is also looked down on as not full blooded. It’s a complicated position to be in with vampires seeing you as a lesser being but wanting to know what you can do and how good you are at it. That being said, most half-bloods choose to hide what they are from everyone to avoid the conflict, so very little is known about their abilities.”

  Willow paused, looking out across the room to gauge comprehension. Most of the officers still looked engaged, so she continued.

  "They do not sparkle. They don't burst into flame at the slightest sunlight either, though sunlight is painful to them. It's more like a slow, smoldering burn to death. Slower, less flashy, and just as unpleasant to watch."

  A hand in the middle of the room caught her attention, and she nodded in the young woman's direction.

  "Does that mean that they can go out in the daytime?"

  "You're a thinker, good. It'll keep you alive. It does mean that they can go out in daylight for measured periods of time, yes. It's not fun for them, and the older, more powerful vampires can stand it longer than the younger, weaker ones. The caveat to that is that most vampires are not strong enough to be awake during the day, so they aren’t conscious to be out and about. That particular little trick is what started the thought that they couldn't go out at all in sunlight," she said.

  "So daytime would be the best option when attempting to apprehend one without a fight?" the thinker asked.

  Willow nodded. "It is. However, never underestimate a vampire. Make sure you go in there expecting a fight. Daylight does not mean dead.”

  The young woman seemed to have gotten the others thinking as well, and hands shot up across the room. Willow laughed, surprised, but promised that she’d answer every question that she could. Then, she pointed to the hand furthest from the right, because why not, and worked her way across the room.

  ~ ~

  WILLOW FELT PEACEFUL WHEN SHE entered the morgue with the others. Maybe because there were more dead there than there were living. Less feelings to feel for someone like her. It was also one of the reasons she liked vampires—that still death they had was calming. Shifters made her neck itch with everything that they had zooming around inside of them, and the Fae made her ears ring, like they were full of bells or something.

  She was mildly aware that Alex was asking the coroner questions while Nick watched, and that the coroner’s name was Patrick, but that was about all she caught as she moved closer to the body. The story of the person’s death hummed at her, not fresh enough that she could pull it out, but enough for it to be a giant distraction from the world around her. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and the humming subsided.

  “Are you alright?” Alex’s hand on her shoulder almost startled her, but she made herself smile and nod.

  “I’m fine. There’s just a lot happening here, but none of it is helpful.” Alex knew what she was, and what she could do, and while he might not understand all the ins and outs, he seemed to get that she needed to get the world to shut up for a second.

  “Patrick, right?” Willow asked, turning to the coroner, a very handsome man. Too handsome to be spending his days elbow deep in innards, in her opinion.

  “That’s right,” he said, grinning.

  “Can you tell what made these tears in the skin?” She pointed to the deep chest wounds.

  “After taking another look, it seems like some of them were made by a bladed weapon of some sort. The others look like large claws, maybe, but I can’t confirm that.”

  Willow looked down at the man on the slab, then back up to Nick. “Do you need to know what made the tears?”

  Nick frowned. “Yes,” he responded, although the uncertainty in his voice made it sound like a question.

  “Don’t freak out,” she said, her voice soft as she leaned over the body. Her lips moved almost silently as she whispered the spell, and then leaned close to the wounds and inhaled deeply. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and for just a moment, she lost herself, coming back into her head as Alex caught her from an almost fall.

  “It’s a shifter, that much I’m sure of. But there’s something off about him or her,” she said as Alex helped her regain her balance.

  “What do you mean, something off?” Nick asked, brow furrowed.

  Willow shrugged. “Something doesn’t feel normal, but I can’t tell you what, exactly. The spell is good, but it’s not going to work miracles for you. I can tell you that the shifter is wrong, somehow. Maybe it’s altered by magic, or mentally sick, but whatever it is, it’s… not normal.”

  Nick sighed and nodded. “I appreciate you trying. While that’s not a lot, it’s more than we had.”

  Willow nodded slowly, her head still not completely back to normal. “If you can get me to a relatively fresh crime scene, I might be able to tell you
more.” She felt Nick’s eyes on her, more distrustful than before. He wasn’t sure he believed her, and that was fine. Most people didn’t believe her unless she showed them.

  “We’ll see” was all he said.

  ~ ~

  HOURS HAD PASSED SINCE WILLOW had left the police station, and Willow found herself perched on a stool in the VIP area, drink in hand as she contemplated what she’d been told about the dead man she’d met earlier that day. Willow had come down there in the hopes that the thundering bass or the other loud and sometime obnoxious patrons would provide a distraction from her thoughts, but it wasn’t working.

  “You sure don’t look like someone who has a successful business making her money all around her.” Willow turned with a smile toward Alex’s voice as he came to join her at the bar. “You should at least be smiling.”

  Willow managed a half smile. “As crazy as it sounds, I can’t seem to get that man’s body out of my head. Maybe it’s because I can’t tell what was wrong about the shifter. Whatever it is, it’s bothering me.”

  “It’s intriguing, definitely,” Alex said with a sigh. Willow motioned to the bartender to bring her another a drink, and to bring whatever Alex wanted.

  “Willow, there’s a cop downstairs looking for you. He’s asking for you by name.” Willow turned to see Kim walking toward her, and she exchanged a look with Alex.

  “Bring him up,” she said to Kim, then turned to Alex. “I guess we aren’t the only ones that can’t stop thinking about this.”

  The bartender arrived with her and Alex’s drink just as Nick arrived, escorted by Kim. Willow told the bartender to just start a tab for her and her two associates and moved the three of them off to a small, private table, a bit farther back from the pomp and circumstance happening on the dance floor below.

  “Here’s what I don’t get,” Willow started.