Tainted Blood

by DC Malone

  “Droll,” Carl said, not smiling. “The events are birth and death. The introduction of a new individual always radically reshapes the system, just as removing one from the system alters it in equally far-reaching ways.”

  “Is that why we’re playing this game?” I asked. We had just about reached the end of Carl’s monologuing, and I wanted as much control of the situation as I could take. “You’re hoping to see something—some variable—that might suggest I could be convinced to do what you want… or not do what you don’t want me to?”

  Carl raised an eyebrow.

  “That’s why you haven’t pulled the gun yet?”

  Chapter 20

  “Now who’s the psychic?” Carl said, slipping a hand into his jacket on the stool and pulling out a little snub-nosed revolver.

  “Nah, I don’t need super math, or whatever it is you think you’ve got going on, to get a read on you. I’ve seen a hundred other guys like you this month alone.”

  “Like me? Do tell.”

  I leaned over the bar until we were face to face. It was partly to show him that I wasn’t afraid, and partly to keep his attention.

  “You think you’re special? Let me boil down what you’ve said to me since you came here, okay? You know what’s best for everyone else, and you’ll take it upon yourself to make the hard choices to see that it happens. Is that the gist?”

  “A little simplistic, perhaps…”

  “No,” I said, “I don’t think it’s simplistic at all. I think it’s exactly what you mean. And you know what? It’s no different than what gets spewed out by the thousands of politicians and CEOs across the airwaves every day. They know what’s best, so everyone should just get on board or get left behind, right? Give a small man any measure of power and soon he’ll have a head big enough to match his ego.”

  Carl smiled, but it was the least genuine action he’d performed since we met. I was actively trying to make him angry, and it looked like it was working. His eyes lost their customary twinkle and went somewhere cold and distant.

  “You forget yourself,” he said, staring everywhere but into my eyes. “I am not someone who can be manipulated by such schoolyard tactics. I am the manipulator. I—”

  “Just explain this to me, Carl, before you get into another long-winded speech. What happened with the Bessons, huh? I don’t care about your vampires or revenants. And I certainly don’t care to hear any more about your damned variables. That’s all this is to me, you know. Two people. Probably expendable Norms to you. But that’s the case for me—what happened to them, and how I can make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

  “Bessons?” Carl looked to be genuinely at a loss.

  “Maggie and Mark Besson. You know, the reason I’m working this case in the first place? They were attacked by one of your revenants, and now they’re missing… Any of that ringing a bell?”

  Carl waved a dismissive hand. “Leave it to someone like you to focus on the least important part of the picture. Your Norms are fine, in their way. At least, the husband is, if I recall correctly. They are only a small part of the group, so it is easy to lose track.”

  “What about Maggie?”

  “She seems less well-suited to the conversion. Perhaps, it relates to a matter of choice or willful cooperation…” Carl’s voice trailed off as though he was talking only to himself.

  “I want to know where they are, and I want your revenants—”

  “They are not my revenants.”

  “But you control them.”

  “No, I am but the grease that keeps the gears turning. Gladys is—” Carl’s expression became pained for a moment, then he smiled once again. This one looked genuine. “I don’t suppose it really matters what you know now.” He lifted his revolver until it was level with my chest.

  “Those variables of yours telling you that the only way to keep me from winning is to kill me?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Perhaps winning isn’t the correct term, but it is certainly the only way I can see to keep things on track. If it gives you any comfort, you can see that as a positive thing. There are not so many in this world that are headstrong and resolute enough that they cannot be swayed by alternative means.”

  “I do see that as a positive,” I said, leaning back a little on my stool. “You can’t hope to get very far in this world if you don’t have any principles.”

  Carl shrugged. “I think the reality we see through our windows may prove just the opposite.”

  I hated to admit it, but he had a point.

  “But now on to the unpleasant business at hand.” His hand didn’t shake at all as he adjusted the position of his gun.

  “Can I say one last thing? Just something for you to chew on once this is over?”

  “Certainly. I am not so callous as to deprive you of your final words.”

  “Mighty big of you,” I said. “Okay, here’s something for you to think about before you pull that trigger.” I waited just a moment longer, then tensed. “Swing for the fences.”

  “Swing—I don’t understand.”

  The look of confusion barely had time to register on his face before the sound of the baseball bat striking his temple cut through the relative quiet of the bar like the sudden crack of a whip.

  Chapter 21

  Francie’s bat clattered to the floor as Carl pitched forward over the bar like a limp sack of laundry. The gun he had been holding fell from his hand and down to the floor on his side of the bar.

  “Oh, God…” Francie ducked below the level of the bar and then popped back up with the little revolver. She held it between two fingers like a scorpion that might choose to sting her at any moment. “I hope I didn’t kill him.”

  “Well, he was about to kill me,” I said, walking around to her side of the bar. “So, it would serve him right if you did.” I relieved her of the revolver, then wrapped my arms around her. “Thank you and thank the gods of fate that I happen to have a friend who’s intelligent enough to understand a very subtle distress call.”

  “It was a near thing,” Francie said, giving me one last squeeze before letting me go. “For the first few minutes, I just sat in my apartment listening and giggling at the fact that you had butt-dialed me… took me a few minutes to realize what was going on.”

  When I had started to catch on to Carl’s intentions, I had placed a call to Francie and left the line open. She was the only backup I had that was close enough to the bar to get here in time, and she was also likely the only one who would have understood the meaning of my call. I had toyed with the idea of calling Hiram, but I figured there was a good chance he might have gotten us both killed… if he had even managed to figure out why I had called him in the first place.

  “Who is this anyway?” Francie had a closer look at the man slumped over her bar. It probably wasn’t the first time she’d encountered someone unconscious at her bar, but I was willing to bet it was the first time she’d been so directly responsible for it.

  “It’s Mr. Rogers.” I tucked the gun into the waistband of my jeans. It wasn’t exactly comfortable there, but it would do until I could find a way of getting rid of it.

  “Oh no, I love Mr. Rogers!”

  “Not that Mr. Rogers, you ninny. This is Carl Rogers. He’s with the Congregation. We just met this morning. And besides, I’m pretty sure the Mr. Rogers you’re talking about passed away quite a while back.”

  “Yeah, but you’re a Necromancer… I thought for a second you might have brought him back or something. Why’s this guy trying to kill you?”

  “I guess I just have that effect on men.”

  “Sure, but it usually takes a little longer before they want to kill you. This would have to be a record even for you.”

  “He’s behind this mess with the vampires and revenants,” I said. “In part, at least. There’s at least one other person from the Congregation involved—Gladys—and from what I gathered, she’s the one actually in control of the revenants.”

/>   “Well, that sounds like a major break to me,” Francie said. She pointed toward the still-unconscious Carl. “Any ideas about what we should do with him? I’m not sure any of my customers would actually notice, but if he wakes up it might make for an awkward situation.”

  “I—”

  The bar door suddenly burst in like a bomb had gone off directly on the other side. It smacked against the wall, knocking down a couple of the framed photos, then wobbled back on its hinges.

  I had the gun halfway drawn before I realized the gigantic bulk that filled the doorway belonged to Luka and not one of the revenants.

  “Carl!” Luka’s eyes were white and wild. He took a few thunderous steps into the bar before he caught sight of me and Francie. His eyes went from us to the slumped form of Carl and then back again. “I thought you would be dead.”

  “No such luck,” I replied.

  “Is he dead?”

  “Again, no such luck.”

  “That can be remedied very quickly.” Luka took a long stride toward the unconscious man.

  “Hold up before you start murdering people.” I scurried between Luka and Carl. Carl was by no means my favorite person at that moment. As a matter of fact, he was pretty close to the top of the list of people I wouldn’t mind seeing hulked to death by Luka. But he was also a valuable source of information and quite possibly the only leverage we had.

  “What happened with you anyway? How did he stop you from showing up after our conversation?” If Luka was bent on seeing Carl dead, I didn’t have any real means of stopping him. So, I figured my best option was to keep him talking long enough for him to cool down.

  Unfortunately, my choice of topic seemed to make him even angrier.

  “See for yourself,” he snarled, jerking his head back toward the doorway.

  I followed his gaze and noticed the door hadn’t completely shut behind him. There was something dark and jagged poking through and keeping the door ajar.

  I had a sinking feeling I knew what it was.

  “Is that…” I walked over and flung the door open. Sure enough, the mangled body of a revenant lay on the other side. In the thing’s natural state, it was already grotesque, but the body in the doorway was crumpled and bent in even more imaginative ways. Not to mention the fact that its Halloween mask of a head was no longer attached.

  “How?” It was the only coherent thing I could get out.

  I turned back to Luka and really looked at him this time. He wasn’t just seething with anger; he was also dealing with injuries. He’d thrown on a loose-fitting overshirt, but now that I was paying attention, I could see the tattered and bloody remains of another shirt beneath. I could even make out some raw, bloody places at varying and frequent intervals across his impossibly wide chest.

  “He sent that thing to babysit me,” Luka said. “It crashed through my door just after we hung up.”

  “My God.” I couldn’t keep my eyes from returning to the dead creature. “I thought the revenants were invulnerable… how did you kill it?”

  “There are very few things that can survive without a head.” Luka’s voice smoldered with a kind of dark satisfaction. “Even still, it was no easy task. It was more than a match for me, but I believe it was not meant to kill me… only to act as my jailor for an unknown amount of time. That was quite likely my saving grace. It is a revenant?”

  “Yeah, a vampire revenant. That’s part of what I was calling you about.” I had seen first-hand what the revenants were capable of—had seen one treat a vampire like a dog’s chew toy. And vampires weren’t exactly pushovers… Luka was a Primal, and I knew on an intellectual level that meant he was very strong and very fast, but I guess I had never considered just how strong and how fast.

  “Yes,” Luka replied, seemingly reading some of what I was thinking. “It was a battle to behold. But one that should never have happened.”

  “Uh, guys.” Francie was standing well away from the door staring at the dead revenant. She looked like her morbid curiosity and her desire to look away were evenly matched. “Could someone get that thing out of my doorway before someone comes along and sees it? I think it would be a tough sell to convince anyone it was just some guy who had a few too many and tripped on his way out.”

  Luka grumbled something under his breath as he lumbered over and grabbed the large body from the doorway. He half dragged, half carried the thing across the room, then dumped it unceremoniously behind the bar.

  “There.” He cast a wilting stare in Francie’s direction.

  “Uh, thanks.” Francie returned Luka’s stare for far longer than I probably would have. It was a testimony to the fact that you didn’t mess with her in her own bar.

  “How did you know Carl was involved?” I asked Luka.

  “He visited me this morning before you called,” Luka said. “It is not a common thing to have a member of the Congregation show up at one’s home. He made some vague threats about there being repercussions if I did not get more serious in deterring you from this case… Minutes after you called, that disgusting thing crashed through my door.”

  Luka grabbed Carl by the shoulder and spun his limp body around to face us. “Carl! Wake up! I want you to see my face before I put you in the ground.”

  Carl’s eyes fluttered to show the whites and he mumbled something unintelligible. He pitched forward and would have fallen from his perch on the stool if Luka hadn’t been holding him.

  Luka pushed the man back over onto the bar with a sound of disgust, then looked to me. “What did you do to him?”

  “I brained him with a baseball bat,” Francie replied. “He was holding a gun on Meredith.”

  Luka grunted, but it seemed to be a sound of appreciation.

  “You really think it’s a good idea to kill this guy?” I asked. “I was thinking we might be able to use him to get at his accomplice. Maybe get the upper hand in this thing for the first time.”

  “Accomplice?” Luka looked perplexed. “How do you know there is an accomplice?”

  “Mr. Rogers here spilled the beans on that one,” I replied. “It seems he’s the mastermind behind whatever it is they’re trying to do with these revenants, but someone called Gladys is the one controlling them… or maybe she’s the one creating them. I’m not exactly sure on the details, but I know enough to know she’s the other piece of this messed up puzzle we have in front of us.”

  “Gladys?” Luka leaned his bulk back against the bar, looking even more confused than before. “Gladys. You are certain that is the name he used?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Why? Do you know who he means?”

  “Yes, there is only one person called Gladys that comes to mind. But you must have been mistaken. It cannot be her.”

  “I’m not mistaken. That’s exactly what he said. Gladys is the one controlling the revenants.”

  Luka shook his head. “Gladys Freemantle was an elder within the Congregation. Some say it was her ancestors who created the Congregation, and others say she was there at the start.”

  I shrugged. “People change. Just because she’s a founding member, or whatever, doesn’t mean she couldn’t—”

  “No,” Luka said. “that’s not what I’m saying. She’s dead.”

  “Oh…”

  “It was before my time, but the story is well-known to all who work near the Congregation. She was the only elder ever to be cast out from the ranks.”

  “What did she do?”

  “In reality, nothing,” Luka replied. “Her plots and schemes never saw the light of day. But she wanted to start a revolution—to change the hierarchy of things.”

  “So, they exiled her from the Congregation because she didn’t like how it was governed?” I asked. “Kind of seems a little harsh if she was the one who started the thing in the first place.”

  “It was not the Congregation with which she took issue.” Luka spread out his hands, indicating the room and everything around us. “She thought the Gifted should rule the worl
d, and that the Norms should be the labor class beneath us.”

  “Well, that’s a fun thought,” Francie said. “There are actual super villains out there…”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “I thought you said the Congregation exiled her. How did she die?”

  “Even in exile, Gladys would not stop with her plans. She even managed to gather a few followers. Eventually, the members of the Congregation of the time deemed it too dangerous to allow her to continue… so extreme measures were pursued. You must understand, while we have great power that the Norms do not, they still outnumber us ten thousand to one. Forcing the issue would have meant our extinction.”

  Carl made a sudden phlegmy sound in his throat, causing Luka to jerk suddenly in the man’s direction. “Small minds,” he croaked. “You have seen the new world order for yourselves and you don’t even know it.”

  Chapter 22

  Carl was in the air and hanging from the ends of Luka’s fists before I even had a chance to blink. The small man looked like an old-fashioned ventriloquist dummy in the giant man’s hands. His feet kicked feebly against Luka’s bulk before going still.

  “Explain yourself!” Luka roared. “I have had enough of your cryptic double-talk to last a lifetime.”

  Carl only made a wretched choking sound in reply. The man’s powdery pale skin crept up the scale toward a dangerously dark red.

  “Carl!” Luka shook the man in the air like a ragdoll.

  “Luka,” I tried. When that didn’t work, I gave him a firm whack on the arm.

  He turned his rage-filled eyes on me, looking for all the world like he might use Carl’s body to knock me across the bar.

  “Luka, he can’t answer you if you’re choking the life out of him,” I said in the most reasonable tone I could muster. “And he’s not going to be of any value to us if he’s dead.”

  Carl remained aloft for several moments longer while Luka seemingly considered the pros and cons of the man’s death. Eventually, Luka dropped the older man back to his stool.