Jones swiped to the next scene. The bloody, grotesque corpse of a middle aged man lay on the pavement, riddled with bullets. Another scene showed a woman, her body also broken and battered with a barrage of bullets. Her face was a mess. It was impossible to tell her age, but her hair was red. We counted five bodies as Jones swiped scene after scene and showed us the carnage.
“Carmen did this?” I asked.
“Yes. He booked a suite in a hotel downtown, brought two automatic guns with him, locked the door, sat in the balcony, and targeted random people. Five dead, three men and two women. Two critically injured. One escaped with a bullet to her arm. The media is all over it. It’s breaking news on every freaking channel in this country and all over the world.”
Oh! This was not good.
We heard about gun maniacs before.
But for one of our kind to be involved in such an activity was unheard of.
“Why would a werewolf use a gun?” Aaron asked the question that played in my mind.
“Apparently the devil told him to,” answered Jones.
Swiveling my chair around, I straightened. “Excuse me.”
“That’s what he screamed when the police broke down the door and caught him. He threw away the weapon and said that the devil told him to do it and if he didn’t, more would have died.”
The corner of Jones’s desk had a speck of lint. I flicked it away. “The devil? Drugs, you think?”
“He has a history of marijuana. Any other drug would have made him catatonic or unconscious at the very least.”
Drugs affected those of us with magic in our blood in a different way. Once I was injected with heroin and nearly died as my heart slowed. Drugs didn’t make us experience new heights of nirvana, but rather they screwed up our nervous system. A werewolf on hard drugs would be dead.
“What does marijuana do to werewolves specifically?” I asked.
“I have heard about hallucinations, seeing things in slow motion, seeing double, stuff like that,” said Aaron. “It doesn’t mellow them down as it does to a human.”
Of course, not. None of us had the nervous system, the chromosome count, or hormones of a human and hence, all of our kind stayed away from human drugs.
“So he hallucinated about the devil and then acted on it?”
“Seems like it,” said Aaron.
It didn’t make any sense to me, but this wasn’t the time to sit here and speculate. “We’ll go catch him.”
“Did you just hear me?” Jones put the remote hard down on the desk. “He was caught, and right now he is in our custody. We took over from the police and got him here, in our own cell down in the basement.”
“Oh!” Narrowing my eyes, I stared at him. “And what is it that we are expected to do?”
“Go out, find out where he got the guns from, where he got the marijuana from, and make sure no one else, mages, werewolves, vampires, whoever else, gets them.”
Aaron laughed. I fought the urge to join him. “Sorry. You really want us to track down every gun depot, supermarket that sells guns to anyone, and every marijuana supplier – and do what with them? Make sure they don’t sell to our kind? How exactly are we supposed to do that?”
Jones frowned. “Just go do something. I’ve to fill a lot of paperwork and I need to show reports, documents, and evidence of us doing something.”
So basically we needed to run around in circles and log in hours so that Jones could show the brass that must be sitting tight on his ass that we were damn on top of things and nothing like this would ever happen again. It couldn’t have been easy to pull such a high profile case from the police.
We now needed to look competent and in control.
“Who is Carmen Wilson, really?” Jones alone couldn’t have made the police hand him over so easily. “Whom is he connected to?”
Leaning back, Jones surveyed me. “He is the only son of Brad Wilson, Chairman of Wilson Pharmaceuticals.”
Ah. That explained things a bit.
Wilson Pharma was one of the big five pharmaceuticals companies on the continent. They were known for their cutting edge research and development work, especially in the fields of identifying genetic markers. I knew them because the company belonged to one of the oldest and most powerful werewolf family in the world.
And Carmen Wilson was the heir to this enterprise.
Hmm. Interesting.
The shit would hit the fan soon enough if it hadn’t done so already.
“I want my best on the job,” said Jones with pride.
“Ah. He is not your best, and you’re just wasting my time with this,” I pointed out. Jones sighed. “But I get it; we’ll go and do the needful but I want a real job when this settles down,” I continued before he could speak.
“Thank you,” he said.
That settled it, for now. I was stuck with Aaron.
Not one of my best days.
“Come,” I told Aaron. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Maybe he would get bored and leave in a few days.
“While you are it, give him a tour of the place,” yelled Jones as we strolled out of his room.
Ha.
I couldn’t freaking believe it. I was babysitting the newbie. Jones just wanted us to hang out and look busy. I wasn’t good at it. Socializing wasn’t my strong suit, and that too with this man.
“So what are the options?”
“You could walk back inside and tell Jones you changed your mind and you don’t want to waste your time with this?”
He shook his head. “No can do, amigo.”
“Don’t you have an empire to run, things to invent?”
“I can do it all.”
Given that he had millions in the bank and plenty of minions, he probably could do it all.
Oh hell!
As we walked down the corridor, I pointed out all the relevant areas. “Break room. If Samantha ever brings cookies, don’t try them or you’ll end up losing a tooth or two but she is a devil with her spells, so don’t get on her wrong side. Conference room. That’s the coordinating unit. Cynthia, hi.” I addressed the matronly, gray haired lady who was a whizz at computers and provided us support from the HQ to the commune. “This is Aaron Fine. He is a civil consultant with the unit now.”
She stood so fast that her chair spiraled. “Mr. Fine. What a pleasure.” Her hand gripped his and shook with an enthusiasm I seldom saw. “Director Jones told me that you would come. I mean…this is an honor.”
Huh?
I never thought of her as a fan of anybody, but I guess no one was perfect.
Aaron’s smile was almost demure, if that word could ever be used for anything he did. “Oh, thank you. That’s too kind. I’m no celebrity, though.”
“I heard about what happened with Smith. Without your support, it would have…” Seeing the look on my face, she gulped. “It could have been bloody. And of course we’ve all heard about your wonderful inventions. It’s too bad that the White Council commandeers most of those.”
“Yeah, it’s a shame really.” He tried to extract his hand and failed to do so. “But they put them to good use.”
“Of course, of course, but how wonderful it would be if general workers like us could get some of those gadgets. They would save lives on a daily basis.”
Since Cynthia didn’t spend a day in the field, I didn’t know what she was talking about, but her ramblings gave me a chance to do something.
“Why don’t you show Aaron the rest of the place?” With grace, I handed over the errant toddler who opened his mouth to whine. “I’m sure he would love to get a tour from a veteran of this place. I hardly ever drop by.”
Cynthia nearly dragged him with her firm grip that she transferred from his hand to his arm. “Why, that’s true. I could show you some places few have seen.”
The sight of Aaron’s horrified expression as she led him along nearly made me laugh, but I escaped into the data room before he could protest. He was a big guy
and could take care of himself.
Women tended to throw themselves over him; it appeared to be a normal occurrence. I would have to be careful to not make the same mistake. He’d a huge ego; I didn’t want to stoke it.
In the data room, I logged in and checked the status. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Although I did the same thing every chance I got, the lack of activity always disappointed me. More than a decade ago, someone killed my parents and my siblings while I was away on a camp. I didn’t want to go, but my father registered me as he thought it would be a good experience. I came back to find four dead bodies and the stench of blood and gore in my house; it was a sight that was imprinted on my mind.
And the killers were still at large, out enjoying life somewhere, and even after all those years, I didn’t have a clue as to who they were.
Aaron opened the door and stepped in. “What was that? And don’t ever do that to me again.”
“Ah. Cynthia. Never mind. She just got excited seeing you. Usually, she is the epitome of efficiency and grace. It’s your fault for being handsome and successful. Women seem to like that.”
Pulling a chair, he sat next to me. “You aren’t impressed by me.”
I saw him but my mind was still preoccupied. “I’m just weird that way.”
“I like weird.” He grinned, leaned towards me, and then stopped. “New case?”
My hand hovered over the keyboard but I didn’t close the screen. Aaron Fine was resourceful. It would be stupid of me to not use him when I was forced to work with him. “Ah. No. An old one actually. My family.” Scrolling through the pictures, I showed him the bodies without really seeing them. Even now, the pain was intense, sharp. He knew about it anyway. Aaron Fine made sure he acquired knowledge on those he worked with. During our last case, he hinted that he’d heard about it. But we never talked openly about it. “Killed about a decade ago. Killers vanished without a trace.”
“I’m sorry. How old were you?”
“Fourteen, just shy of fifteen.”
“It must have been terrible.”
Memories flooded me. “Horrible. I was sent to the commune, got a counselor, attended grief meetings. Got through it somehow. And here I am, now working with the FBI and still hoping for something that would lead me to the killers.”
“So that’s why you work here? I wondered why? You’re not good with authority.”
Closing the file, I leaned back and faced him. The look in his eyes made me wish I didn’t have to talk to him. Understanding. Warmth. I couldn’t take it in. But he was a useful fellow. “Yeah. But so far I’ve not come across anything that would help me. The case is still open, but there is no investigation. All leads were probed and let go.”
“If there is anything I can do…”
“You can, actually.”
The surprise that flared in his eyes disappeared a moment later. “What?”
“You’ve got connections to the White Council. That guy Theodore…you knew him well.”
During our last case, in the quest to find the hypnotist Smith, we worked with Sebastian Theodore who was an ambassador of the White Council. Aaron handed him some pretty valuable tech. Clearly, the White Council regarded him with respect.
“Not well, but yeah…I know him and some of the others.”
That was even better.
But would he help me after I made such a fuss about not working with him?
“The White Council takes a keen interest in murders of mages and other magical creatures, but I’ve never seen any reports from them about the investigation they must have done after my family was murdered. Sebastian gave an indication that he knew my father. For sure, he would have checked into the murders. Or someone else from the White Council must have done it. I want the case files.”
His eyebrow rose. “You want me to access the files of the White Council?”
“Yes, please.”
I never would have asked him for help, but this was the single, most important driving force in my life. And my ego wasn’t more important than this.
Make or break; would he come through?
“I’ll see what I can do.”
His quick acquiesce shocked me. “Ah. What do you want in return?”
A date?
A kiss?
Sleep with him?
If he got me something, I would do whatever the hell he wanted. It would be a small price to pay for any information that would lead me to the murderers who killed my family and ruined my childhood.
His hand touched my cheek. The warmth from his fingers speared my skin. Anything he wanted, I would do it. It wouldn’t mean anything to me.
He removed his hand. “Nothing.”
It took a moment for it to sink in. “Nothing? You mean…you would just do it.”
“I don’t know what they have, and what I can find. But I’ll do my best.”
This didn’t make any sense.
“Why?”
His smile was enigmatic. “Why would I help you?” He shrugged, stood, and held out his hand for me. “It’s simple, really. If we’re going to have a strong, meaningful relationship, I don’t want to start with bargains.”
Alright. What the hell was this?
I quirked a brow. “Relationship?”
“We’re working together. It’s a professional relationship.” Taking his hand, I stood, and then let go. “For now. I’ve hopes for more.”
“There is nothing…” The words choked in my mouth as we both heard the loud boom that filtered into the closed room. “What the hell?” We ran out as the series of booms continued in rapid succession. Bombs? Explosions? Where and why? “Basement,” I guessed as we sped through the corridor towards the doors that led downstairs.
“Who would attack the FBI?”
Militants. Crazies. You could take your pick these days.
People screamed and ran, depending on how trained they were for combat. The civilians stood with their mouth open while the agents already had guns in their hands as we headed down. The stairs weren’t crowded. I took two at a time. The noise stopped. Opening the door of the basement, I peeked out.
“It’s downstairs,” someone yelled as he sped past me.
The loud boom that echoed substantiated his claim. Aaron leapt ahead of me. Oh yes, he could move. The fluidity and grace he displayed wasn’t so common. He trained hard and well. Having him as my partner may not be worst thing as yet.
Sweeping open the door, we entered the second basement only to be greeted by clouds of dust and mounds of debris. I couldn’t see a damn thing as the air was thick with white powder. Someone had smashed the walls. Coughing, I made my way over the broken bricks and mangled bars of steel to the nearest cell. It was locked and in the far corner was a vampire. He looked as bewildered as I felt.
One accounted for, more to go.
The agents checked the other cells. “Locked,” said one.
“Locked,” said another.
“This one’s here. Door’s locked,” another reported from somewhere within the clouds of dust.
I coughed in an attempt to expel the fine powder from my throat. My nose twitched and I sneezed. “Allergies?” asked Aaron.
“No.” I sneezed again.
If everyone was accounted for, who the hell broke the far walls? And why?
Graham stood against a cell. His gun was held in the hand. “What is it?” I blocked another sneeze. Ok. So I needed to get out before I lost all shreds of dignity by letting out a torrent of sneezes. “Who’s here?”
“Was here,” said Graham.
The steel door lay flat on the ground inside the cell. “Oh. Who was that?” I asked.
“Carmen Wilson,” said Graham in a low voice. “We lost him.”
Ladies and Gentlemen, the shit just officially hit the fan.
We seized the prime suspect of the latest shooting spree from the police and promptly lost him to an attack by an unidentified entity or entities. The FBI was in fire, and I doubt that there was much anyon
e of us could do to rescue PDI now.
“Hell of a first case, partner,” I told Aaron.
The sneezes escaped one after another and I made a beeline for the stairs. Not much to gain from standing and gaping at the empty cell that mocked us.
We were all sitting targets as far as the media and the police were concerned, and there was precious little I could do.
The PDI was toast.
About the Author
Sabine A. Reed is a fantasy author. The eldest among three children, she always had a book in her hand. To this date, she loves to read. Writing is one of her great loves because she can write the stories she would have liked to read. She can often be found at Goodreads and her website. She can also be found on twitter: SabineAReed. And on her facebook page: SabineAReed.
Her other books include:
00 Mayan Thief, a novella in the series The Paranormal Casefiles
The Spiritist
The Demon Mages, Book 1 in The Power of Three trilogy
The Warrior Mage, Book 2 in The Power of Three trilogy
Serpentine Love, a fantasy, paranormal romance novella
Black Orb
Ashuliya
01 Serial Killer (FBI Paranormal Casefiles) Page 22
