Past Life

by C S Winchester

  Thankfully Frankie had yet to see the frightening side of Dante and while she hoped she never would, she was in no doubt that it was there.

  “So will you exorcise the ghost?” he asked as they walked out to the street and headed towards the taxi rank.

  “I'll try and talk to him again.”

  “Is that wise?”

  “Probably not but I don't want to kill him if I don't have to. I'll make sure I have Bobby with me.”

  “Mind if I tag along?” he asked. “Tonight was interesting.”

  Frankie shrugged. “Sure, but you won't be able to see anything. It'll just be me talking to thin air again.”

  “I'd still like to observe.”

  They stopped by the first cab in the rank.

  “Okay, I'll call you, let you know when I'm going back.”

  Dante opened the door for her, and she kissed him on the cheek as she got in.

  When the cab pulled away Dante walked the short distance back to his apartment complex, his mind once again wandering around the topic of Frankie, as it frequently did these days.

  His feelings for her were very confused. Sure, he liked and even respected her to a degree but a small part of him also resented her. Josh had been Dante's sire, his creator and mentor into the vampire life, so while logically Dante knew that she deserved none of the blame for what happened to Josh, he couldn't help feeling that if she hadn't been in the picture, Josh would still be alive. And even then, if she had better taste in boyfriends Josh might still he here.

  He hid his feelings well and he would never admit them to anyone else, but he couldn't deny how he felt.

  He wondered why Josh had chosen him to watch over Frankie. It was a question Dante often asked himself, but one he had yet to find an answer to. Josh had been a good judge of character and must surely have known the resentment Dante that would feel towards her.

  Nevertheless, regardless of why, Dante would keep his word to his maker and do his best to protect Frankie. It was the last thing Josh had asked of him and to disregard that request was unthinkable.

  Chapter Two

  The next day Frankie was just getting ready to leave the house when her doorbell rang and she opened it to see Will standing there.

  She was pleased to see that he had put his driving gloves on. Even though he was still sceptical about the supernatural, he was very accommodating when it came to accepting the limits her gift made her impose on people. Her home was her safe haven, the one place where she didn't need to wear gloves to block the psychic images that people left on objects. By wearing gloves, he was ensuring that he wouldn't leave his any of his own psychic impressions on her possessions.

  “Not that I'm not pleased to see you, but this is a really bad time,” she said with a grimace. “I've got a meeting at four o'clock.” She went back inside leaving the door open for Will to follow her. One hand went to the scarf at her neck, and she tugged it slightly higher to make sure her bruises were covered.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said, watching her from the doorway as she dashed around, turning her computer off and checking her handbag for her I.D.

  “Uh, I'm running late.” She grabbed her keys off the table. “Can it wait?”

  “Not really,” Will shook his head.

  Frankie checked her watch and hesitated a moment.

  “You'd better come with me then.” She frowned as she thought through the ramifications of taking him along. “You're a Detective Chief Inspector, that should do. Do you have your I.D. with you?”

  “Of course.” Will nodded.

  “Great, then come on.”

  “Okay,” he followed her out to her car and climbed in the passenger side. “Where are we going?”

  “RAF Leuchars.”

  She backed out of the driveway and headed towards the Forth Bridge.

  “No offence, Frankie, but how does your job take you to a RAF base?”

  “It's a long story,” she said, still feeling the pressure of being late. “What did you want to see me about?” she asked.

  “Have you seen today's paper?”

  Frankie shook her head. “Haven't had a chance. Why?”

  “Because someone is killing animals in ritual ceremonies.”

  “That's horrible,” she looked disgusted. “But aren't you a little too senior for animal cruelty cases?”

  “Normally, yes but now that the press has a hold of it...” Will shrugged. “We're taking a lot of heat, so I volunteered to handle it because it seems like your kind of case.”

  “You think it's witchcraft?”

  “I don't have a clue,” Will shrugged. “I was hoping that you would.”

  “Did you bring the file?” she asked. They were finally on dual carriageway and Frankie felt herself relax as her speed picked up.

  “I brought the crime scene photos. There isn't much else in the file yet.”

  “How many animals?”

  “It looks like six animals, mainly cats and small dogs, at two different sites. All pets, no strays.”

  “That's sick.” Frankie frowned. “I wonder why that didn't show up on my system?” MI5's computers scanned all police chatter for unusual events, and highlighted those that might be paranormal in origin. Something that strange should have been red-lighted for her to check into.

  “Probably because we didn't know anything about this until the paper ran the story this morning. The reporter seems to have kept it under wraps.”

  “How long has it been going on?”

  “Two days. Let's hope it's not a pattern, or we can expect another one tonight.”

  “Definitely sounds like more than your average sociopath. Are they tortured?”

  “I don't think so but the university hasn't finished the necropsy yet.”

  “The Royal Dick school?” she asked.

  Will nodded.

  “They're good. They do all our necropsies north of the border.”

  “You get a lot of dead animals in the supernatural world?” Will looked surprised.

  “I'm your first call, aren't I?” she smiled slightly. “But no, not many. Every year a few farmers claim that aliens killed their livestock, sometimes animals can be unintentionally affected by magic, and every now and then some sick fuck decides to practice their shiny new magic skills on animals, but thankfully intentional cruelty is quite rare. Most witches respect all life, including animals.”

  “Wow.” Will shook his head and looked out of the window.

  Three months ago Frankie had got permission from her boss to make Will her liaison on the Lothian and Borders police force, which meant that she now had much more freedom to discuss her cases with him. He had signed the Official Secrets Act, so Frankie no longer had to use discretion when she spoke to him.

  Of course, she still couldn't tell him about the one aspect of her work where she needed a friend most of all, the vampires, but even though he remained sceptical about her work, it was nice to have a human friend that she could discuss most things with.

  “So, why the air base?” he asked after a while.

  “We're getting rid of a siren.”

  “A what?”

  “A siren, you must have heard of them?”

  “You mean mermaids who sang songs to lure sailors to their death on the rocks?”

  “Exactly. Except without the mermaids, the songs and the rocks. Sirens are a naturally occurring phenomena that spring up randomly, though they do tend to appear with greater frequency in areas with high magic use.”

  “So no mermaids?” he sounded slightly disappointed.

  “No mermaids.”

  “What are they then?”

  Frankie shrugged. “That I don't know. All I can tell you is that they are probably magical in origin and they cause compasses, and to a lesser extent all technology, to malfunction. Years ago, that sent sailors to their death on the rocks because their compasses were acting up. It's not so serious these days with so many people using GPS locators instead of magnetic
compasses, but they still cause a lot of accidents.”

  “Is that why our SatNavs have been playing up?”

  “Yep. Like I say, it's intermittent with technology but still noticeable. The number of car and boating accidents have risen too.”

  “So how do you get rid of them?”

  “We seed rain clouds with silver iodine and various other ingredients. The silver iodine makes it rain, which carries the other chemicals into the ground and negates what ever it is causing the electromagnetic distortion.

  “And the RAF know about this?”

  “Hell no.” Frankie smiled. “They think we're testing dispersal methods for clean-up materials following a dirty bomb.”

  “Is that even possible?”

  “Not yet, but scientists are working on similar methods of dispersing elements into the atmosphere, ones that will bind with radioactive or chemical toxins.”

  “And it's safe right, there's no toxic stuff in there, like mercury?”

  Frankie hesitated a moment as she remembered that the large amounts of silver would be very harmful indeed to vampires. She needed to call Dante and warn him.

  “It's safe,” she assured Will.

  “You don't sound too sure.”

  “Trust me, it won't harm people.”

  Will didn't look completely convinced but he backed down.

  “So how long has this phenomenon been going on?” he asked.

  “About six months.”

  “Why the delay in... treating it? Is that the right word.”

  “It'll do. First because these things grow over time. A few accidents doesn't warrant dumping all the silver dust we're going to. Silver is expensive and we're subject to budget cuts too. And of course, there's no test, so we have to wait until there's enough data to form a pattern. ”

  “But people could die!”

  “And sirens are naturally occurring! It's not like people are being murdered. Plus we've been ready to go on this for the last two months but we have to wait for the right weather conditions. First it has to be cumuli nimbus clouds and for Scotland, we've had surprisingly little rain this summer. Secondly there can't be any wind, because what we disperse in the cloud has to fall straight down. If the wind moves it first, then it'll fall in the wrong area and it will have all been for nothing.”

  They sat in silence for a while until Frankie decided to change the subject.

  “Okay, you're listed as a liaison to MI5 so we'll say that's why you're here. Don't tell anyone the truth, okay?”

  “Right.”

  “I mean it, Will, you signed the Official Secrets Act and if you reveal any part of the real reason for this operation, you will end up in a dark and dank prison somewhere.”

  “Frankie! I know the risks, okay! Trust me.”

  Frankie sighed. “I do trust you, Will, I just don't think you understand the gravity of this supernatural stuff yet.”

  Will shook his head. “Yeah, well it is kind of hard to believe that teenage wiccan wannabes can really do that much damage.”

  “They're not all wannabes playing dress up, Will. In World War Two, Hitler nearly succeeded in bringing this country down on a number of occasions. In 1941 he came within a hair's breadth of having Winston Churchill possessed. In 1939 they did succeed in astral projection, giving them access to all our confidential files and plans. In 1940 they developed a powerful hypnotic potion that when released into a water supply, would turn the population into malleable robots. Why do you think France crumpled so easily? And remember Hurricane Katrina just a few years ago? That was the work of America's home grown Islamic fundamentalists, who whipped up a normal storm into a catastrophe. You should pray that terrorists never look to witchcraft to succeed over here, because they could literally devastate the whole country.”

  She shook her head in frustration. “So while, yes, most of the time the supernatural is pretty harmless, in the wrong hands it's lethal.”

  “Okay, I didn't know all that.” Will held his hands up in surrender. “Are many natural disasters caused by witchcraft?”

  “No. Most are completely natural.”

  “The boxing day tsunami?”

  “Natural.”

  “The gulf oil spill?”

  “Pure human error.”

  They rode in silence for the rest of the journey until they approached the main gate of the base.

  “Just follow my lead,” Frankie said, as she slowed the car to a stop and rolled her window down. She flashed her I.D. to the guard. “Francis Wright and Detective Chief Inspector William Campbell. I'm expected.”

  Will showed his I.D. to a second guard on the other side of the car, as Frankie's guard checked her name against his list.

  “We only have you down,” the first guard told her, giving Frankie her I.D. wallet back.

  “I know, last minute change of plans. We'll wait while you check his I.D. and confirm that he's a liaison to MI5.”

  The second guard took Will's I.D. and headed into the hut to make a call, while the first guard stood by their car.

  Frankie and Will waited in silence until the guard returned and nodded to his partner. The barrier rose and the first guard leaned down to the window.

  “Do you know where you're going?” he asked.

  “We'll be fine.” Frankie assured him, so he stood back and waved them through. Frankie turned right and headed for the control tower where the base commander, Air Commodore Edward Walters was waiting to greet them. After the introductions, he led them inside.

  “The conditions for your test look good today, here's hoping it's third time lucky.”

  “Agreed,” Frankie nodded.

  Will wondered what this was the third time for, but didn't say anything in front of the commodore.

  “If this does work,” Walters asked, “how long until we can use these chemicals in the event of an attack?”

  “Probably years I'm afraid; we're only testing dispersal methods at the moment. Science is making great strides in neutralising agents, but they have to be throughly tested before being released on the population. ”

  They entered an office with a battered desk, three computers along one wall, three operators in front of them and a fourth man looking over their shoulders. The man watching over the operators turned and smiled when he saw Frankie.

  “Group Captain Adams,” she smiled. “It's good to see you again.”

  “I'll leave you in his capable hands,” Walters said, taking a step backwards. “Best of luck with your test, Miss Wright.” He turned and left.

  “Frankie,” Adams held his hand towards her, and Frankie shook it in her gloved hand and smiled. “Please call me Ian.”

  Frankie introduced him to Will and after a few pleasantries, she got down to business.

  “How's the weather holding up?”

  “As you can see, everything looks good so far.” He turned back towards the computers. “The payload is on board and the squadron is ready to go on my mark. We're flying a crosshatch over the region as per your request. Wind speed is still a little high, we just need it to drop another two kilometres per hour and we're good to go.”

  “Any idea how long that will take?”

  Adams shrugged. “You know what the weather's like.”

  “Sure,” Frankie nodded. “In the meantime, is there somewhere Will and I could talk privately?”

  “The office next door is unoccupied. I'll come and get you if the wind drops.”

  “Thank you.”

  Frankie and Will headed next door.

  “Does a little wind really make that much difference?” Will asked as Frankie closed the door.

  “We're about to drop one hundred thousand pounds worth of silver, nanocrystalline diamond and sandalwood oil, to say nothing of the cost to the RAF for the planes, crew and fuel. Not only that, but some of the ingredients in this dust are so rare that it would take months to collect them again. Sirens get stronger and more dangerous the longer they're left, so we need to get it
right the first time.”

  “A hundred thousand pounds?” Will couldn't quite believe her.

  “We are covering nearly three hundred square miles.”

  “Okay, I'm feeling a little out of my league here.” Will ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair.

  Frankie smiled. “Then show me your photos, let's see if I can solve your case for you.”

  Will smiled at her bravado as he pulled the pictures from his pocket and handed them to her.

  “You didn't take these?” she asked.

  “No, they're the reporter's pictures. By the time we'd got to the scenes they'd all been disturbed by people and animals, so these are the best images we have.”

  Frankie flicked through them slowly, taking in as much detail as she could.

  “I don't think it's witchcraft,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “I've been boning up on witchcraft ever since Demon Boy was killing women last year. There's no traditional spell debris.”

  “Like what?”

  “Candle wax, runes, spell ingredients, that kind of thing. I think these animals have been bled out, their necks are cleanly cut, see.” She handed him a close up of one of the cats. “It looks more like a sacrifice than a spell.”

  “So someone else is trying to summon a demon again?”

  “I don't know. As I understand it, there has to be a marking for the demon you're trying to summon and I can't see anything like that.”

  “So you've got nothing?”

  “Sorry,” Frankie shrugged. “But if I can keep these, I'll do some research when I get back, see what I can dig up for you on uses for animal blood.”

  “I'd appreciate it.”

  “Then consider it done,” she smiled.

  Will frowned as his thoughts wandered back over their earlier conversation.

  “Why silver and diamonds?” he asked.

  “In the supernatural world, silver is a strong cleansing agent and diamonds help purify things. We're essentially scrubbing the magic or mystical energy out of the region.”

  “So magic won't work here any more?”