“Are you bringing him up to speed?”
“I’m trying. Look, I have to run. We never had this conversation.”
The connection went dead.
Welcome to the sidelines, Mace thought.
Rhonda fell screaming to the stone floor. Wincing, she took a deep breath. Her teeth rattled inside her skull, and her nausea intensified. “Please stop. Just let me go. Please. I want my mother …”
The woman moved closer to her but not too close. She always maintained a safe distance. If only Rhonda could reach her …
Electricity tore through her body, sending her limbs flailing at her sides and her face slapping the floor. Was it her imagination, or had the current grown stronger? Her tongue pressed against her teeth, which flexed in their gums. Pushing herself up off the floor, she worked her knees beneath her. Rhonda stared at her hands, her fingers clawing at the floor. She knew she couldn’t take much more of this torture in her fragile human form.
Why should I? She wants to see a monster, I’ll show her one.
She willed the Change.
Willy and Karol walked through the lobby of the Office of Chief Medical Examiner of the City of New York at 520 First Avenue. They had found nothing in Jason Lourdes’s bedroom to suggest he was anything but an average teenager. Willy palmed the call button, and when the elevator door opened, he waited for Karol to board it first.
On the fourth floor, an attendant behind a counter directed them to Autopsy Room D.
“I want some water first,” Karol said, stooping over a fountain.
“Don’t tell me you’re fainthearted,” Willy said. “That’s a handicap for a murder police.”
Karol stood straight and dabbed at the corners of her mouth. “It’s the smell more than it is anything I ever see. All those cleaning solutions and chemicals are too much for me.”
“You can hold my hand if you want.” Karol gestured to the swinging double doors ahead. “Shall we?”
Willy pushed one door open and followed his partner into the refrigerated autopsy room.
Dr. Byrnes, a white male with a whiter beard, stood near an autopsy table occupied by a nude male body and a detached head. “Good evening, Detectives.”
Willy and Karol drew close to the table. Under the overhead lights, Jason’s body seemed to glow. The medical examiner had sliced the head’s flesh from the base of the neck, along the jaw hinge, past one ear, over the top of the skull, and down to the other side of the neck, dividing the head in two. Then he had tugged the husk of skin from the face like a mask, revealing glistening musculature beneath. The bulbous eyes, minus their lids, seemed to follow Willy.
“The edge of the neck stump lines up perfectly with the head,” Byrnes said. “I’m sure DNA testing will prove that they go together like shama lama ding dong.”
“What did the perp use to decapitate this poor bastard?” Willy said.
“An instrument sharp enough and strong enough to separate the head from the body with a single blow.”
“A sword?”
Byrnes shrugged. “Sure, why not? I’ll bite.”
Willy held his hand out above one of Jason’s. The fingers on Jason’s hand extended an inch beyond his. “This boy had major piano-playing hands.”
“Only if he cut those nails.”
Willy leaned close to Jason’s head. “How do you explain the coloration of his eyes?”
“I don’t. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
Gripping the remote control, Valeria watched Rhonda writhe on the floor. She told herself this was an animal, a monster, not a human being.
Rhonda slumped over on one side, wincing. Then she looked at Valeria, who gasped: the irises in Rhonda’s eyes had expanded, blotting out the whites. The mask of pain on her face reconfigured itself into one of rage, and when Rhonda snarled Valeria glimpsed a mouthful of canine fangs as Rhonda’s jaws elongated and her nose stretched into a muzzle.
Valeria removed her thumb from the button on the remote control, and the crackling of electricity stopped. Shifting the remote into her other hand, she drew the tranquilizer gun and aimed it at the figure on the floor.
The creature that had been Rhonda did not seem to care that Valeria had stopped the charge. She got on all fours and growled at Valeria, who took an instinctive step back. Rhonda leapt at her, but the chains snapped her back. As the nude body rolled on the floor, Valeria noted its muscles going spastic from head to toe. In the time it took for Rhonda to rise, black fur spread over her rippling form.
Valeria restrained herself despite the amazement she felt. She had never seen a werewolf before; she had seen only photos and videos. Now she not only stood mere feet from one of the monsters, but she had witnessed its transformation from human form. It was incomprehensible to her that this supernatural beast had appeared to be a skinny human girl just moments ago.
Rhonda’s eyes narrowed at Valeria, and spittle flew from her teeth.
Valeria took another step back, then heard footsteps behind her.
“Show no fear,” Michael said. “It can’t hurt you.”
Ignoring him, Valeria watched Rhonda grow a foot taller as her feet stretched into leg extensions. The chains forced the creature to bend over, but Rhonda’s eyes remained focused on Valeria. She lunged forward again, and when the chains jerked her back, her jaws parted and she unleashed a howl that caused Valeria to shudder.
CHAPTER FIVE
When the taxi pulled over to the house in Rosedale, Gabriel leaned forward in the backseat and spoke to the .driver. “You don’t mind waiting in the car, do you? I’d like [you to listen to the news for updates.”
Micah shrugged. “Whatever you say. Give Jen and Rodney my condolences.”
“I will.”
Raphael slid out of the car first and held the door for Gabriel. Gabriel got out and waited for Raphael to close the door, and then they walked to the house together.
“You’d better start traveling with bodyguards,” Raphael said.
“I’ll consider it.” Gabriel knocked on the door.
“If they’re staking out the house, they could have us in their sights right now.”
Gabriel glanced at the houses around them.
The door swung open and Sharon stood before them. They entered without saying anything.
“Rodney’s upstairs with Jennifer,” Sharon said. “They’re both wrecks.”
“Of course they are.” Gabriel led the way into the living room, where three grim-faced men sat on the sofa: Tim Riegert, Kyle Chadler, and Samuel Minsky.
“What’s the deal, Gabriel?” Tim said.
Gabriel unbuttoned his coat and sat in a chair near the sofa. “We’ve been discovered; there’s no question about it. Members of the Brotherhood of Torquemada may be here in the city. We don’t know how many, at least five. They killed Jason and took Rhonda prisoner, and they have their Blade of Salvation with them. The police have Jason’s corpse, and there’s no covering up anything they learn.”
“Fuck,” Kyle said.
“What are we doing about it?” Samuel said.
“For the time being, I want you three to stay here.” Gabriel looked at Raphael. “Call for relief if you need it, but I want three people guarding this house at all times.”
“There are four of us now,” Sharon said.
“I want you to go home tonight and get some rest. Come back in the morning and take care of Rodney and Jen so these guys can concentrate on security.”
“What about the Wilsons?” Tim said.
Raphael folded his muscular arms. “We couldn’t protect them if we wanted to. Cops are swarming all over their house.”
Gabriel nodded. “Our enemies won’t strike at them while the police are there, but we’ll have to provide security as soon as that situation changes. The Torquemadans must know that the Lourdeses and the Wilsons belong to the pack, and that means they knew who Raphael and I are.”
Samuel sat up. “You guys can’t go back to your places
unprotected.”
“I’m meeting Melissa at a safe house later,” Gabriel said.
“And I’m staying with my crew,” Raphael said. “We’re covered.”
“What if Rhonda gives us up?” Tim said. “She’s just a girl. Who knows what they’ll do to her?”
“That’s why we need to draw them out as quickly as possible,” Gabriel said. “When they strike, we have to be ready. If they come here, make sure you get one of them alive—even if it means leaving in the heat of things.”
“There are just three of us, five counting Rodney and Jen. You said there’s at least five of them. There could be a lot more.”
“Even if these people are Torquemadans, there’s only one Blade of Salvation. You can handle them no matter how many there are. Just keep their screaming to a minimum.”
Mace pulled into the narrow driveway of his Bay Ridge, Brooklyn home, leaving room for Cheryl to park behind him. The days got darker sooner, and he shivered as he climbed the steps to the front door and unlocked it. Snow would fall soon. He entered the house, passed the French doors for the enclosed porch, and opened the inner door. Hanging his coat on an upright rack, he ascended the wooden stairs to the second floor, where he and his family lived; they rented the bottom floor to a Mexican family. Inside the long three-bedroom apartment, his German Shepard, Sniper, waited for him, wagging his tail. Mace had inherited the dog from the K-9 unit when the animal had gone blind in one eye.
“Hi, boy.” Warmth greeted Mace as he passed the dining room table and set his keys next to the mail. As he passed through the dining room to the living room with the dog at his heels, he saw Patty standing in her playpen with Anna Sanchez, her nanny, kneeling before her.
Patty’s eyes lit up. “Dada! Dada! Dada!” She raised her arms, her fingers opening and closing.
Mace scooped up his daughter and rubbed his nose against hers. “Hi, sweetie. How was your day? Did you give Anna a hard time?”
Anna stood beside him. At twenty, she wore clips in her dark hair and a white sweater. She lived downstairs with her parents and two brothers. “No, Captain. She never gives me a hard time. She’s a good girl.”
“If only she’d embrace potty training.”
“Oh, she’s too young. All children are different. I know. I taught my brothers. Your dinner’s in the oven. Take it out in half an hour.”
“Thank you. Have a good night.”
“You too.” Anna exited and closed the door.
Mace turned on the TV and switched the channel to Manhattan Minute News. “Did you have an interesting day? Daddy didn’t. Daddy never has interesting days at work anymore, but that’s a good thing. Let’s see what Mommy told Anna to make for dinner.” He carried Patty into the narrow kitchen and opened the oven door, with Sniper in tow. “Mm, baked ziti.”
Cheryl’s voice came from the TV.
“Mama?”
Mace carried the toddler into the living room. “Mama will be home soon. She did have an interesting day.”
On TV, Cheryl stood outside the Detective Bureau Manhattan. “Police officials have released the following information regarding the murder of eighteen-year-old Jason Lourdes at the Synful Reading bookstore on St. Mark’s Place this morning. The murder weapon appears to have been a sword …”
And so it begins, Mace thought.
“Look at all these cars,” Karol said as she drove along the residential street in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn. “How many of them do you think are ours?”
Willy studied the parked cars as their headlights illuminated them. “All of them.”
She found a parking spot at the end of the long block. Willy got out and waited for her to join him on the sidewalk, and they backtracked to the house they wanted. Willy rang the doorbell, and when a uniformed PO answered the door, he flashed his shield. “Diega and Williams, Manhattan Homicide South.”
The PO guided them into the living room, which had been converted into a command station. Soares and Cato, wearing headsets, sat at a table upon which a digital recorder had been hooked up to the main telephone line. Another PO sat in a chair, two detectives on the sofa. Chinese food in containers waited on the coffee table.
“How’s it going?” Willy said.
Soares stretched his arms. “We’ve had a few tips and dispatched patrol units to investigate, but nothing panned out. You?”
“Nada. Can we speak to the father?”
Soares nodded to the PO who had brought Willy and Karol in. The officer went upstairs and returned a minute later, followed by a paunchy, middle-aged man with black hair.
Cato gestured to Willy and Karol. “Mr. Wilson, this is Detective Diega and Detective Wilson from Manhattan Homicide South. They’re investigating Jason’s murder and would like to ask you some questions.”
Marshal Wilson regarded them with sagging eyes. “I already answered these guys’ questions three times.”
“We’re sorry,” Karol said. “It’s what we do. You never know what piece of seemingly innocuous information could help us with both cases.”
Marshal sighed. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
When Cheryl Mace walked through her living room door, she saw that Tony had already set the table, served dinner, placed Patty in her high chair, and was spoon-feeding their daughter macaroni and cheese.
“Mama! Mama! Mama!”
“Hello, my beautiful baby.” She kissed Patty, then her husband.
“How was your day?” Tony said. “I’m sure you heard the news.”
“I’ve been following your reports.”
“That isn’t how you heard the news.”
“Willy called me.”
Cheryl sat at the table. “What did he say?”
Tony just smiled.
“Well, he didn’t say anything to me, and I was the first reporter on the scene.”
“I’m sure you were.”
“I had to wait for Public Affairs to release a statement.”
“That’s how it works.”
She sampled her ziti. Not bad. Anna was a good cook, even if her Italian food never quite tasted authentic. “Synful Reading. A decapitation by sword. What do you think?”
Tony wiped Patty’s face and turned his attention to his own food. “I have no thoughts on the matter. I’m only a lowly administrator.”
Chewing her food, Cheryl studied his eyes. Two years earlier, Tony had told her he had witnessed the Manhattan Werewolf tear an upstate tribal policeman to pieces in the Village. He had gone so far as to call the perp a real werewolf: an actual flesh and blood and fur monster. She had advised him not to make that claim in his report, but he ignored her, and now she was grateful he had a job at all.
At the time, Tony had sent her out of town to stay with her parents, and while she was there, the governor had sent the National Guard into the city … and the murders stopped. When she returned home, Tony had lacerations on his face, bite marks on one wrist, and a deep wound in his left shoulder. He told her he had been jumped by a gang. She didn’t believe him, but she never pressed the point. The gashes on his forehead healed, leaving light scars that only turned visible when he grew angry, but the injury to his shoulder seemed permanent. He downplayed it, but she knew it caused him pain, and sometimes during thunderstorms his nightmares awoke her.
“Why did Willy call you, if not for insight?”
Tony shrugged. “I couldn’t say.”
You mean you won’t say. Cheryl had started seeing Tony after he had apprehended Rodrigo Gomez, the serial killer known as the Full Moon Killer. She had been a reporter on that story and had interviewed Tony as the primary detective several times. When they became involved, he refused to answer any questions related to his job, a policy he continued to follow, other than during the period in which she had worked as a talk show producer.
“Didn’t you tell me that someone from the Vatican took both halves of that broken sword?”
He looked at Patty. “Did I say that? I really don’t remember.�
��
“Gabriel and Raphael Domini came to the crime scene. What was their sister’s name?”
His eyes returned to hers. “Angela.”
“Right. Did she ever turn up again?”
Holding her gaze, Tony said, “No. I don’t know where she is.”
At least he’s telling the truth about that.
Valeria poured herself a cup of steaming tea. All six members of their party sat at the table in the second-floor office they had converted into a dining room. Other offices served as bedrooms. Valeria and Eun bunked together; Michael and Henri; and Myles and Angelo. They cooked in pairs, and tonight had been Myles’s and Angelo’s turn: chicken and beef souvlakis and a pasta salad. On the security monitor set upon a counter, the beast continued to rage at her imprisonment.
“She doesn’t get tired,” Valeria said.
Michael sipped his coffee. “She will. A wounded wolf will run for days without stopping.”
“I’m worried about leaving it alone tonight,” Henri said. “Maybe one of us should stay behind.”
“We need everyone in the field. If it makes you feel better, tranquilize her before we leave. She’ll still be out when we return.” Michael turned to Valeria. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s been a big day is all.”
Michael wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I suggest we all get a few hours’ sleep. It’s going to be an even bigger night.”
CHAPTER SIX
Willy and Karol entered the Crime Scene Unit laboratory in the Forensics Division. Detectives in white lab coats sat with their backs to them, hunched over their terminals.
Matt Mostel waved from across the room, then met them in the middle.
“Are Rodriguez and Quarrel gone already?” Willy said.’
Mostel, pushing forty, spread his hands apart. “We find ‘ sticking to assigned shift times is more productive than working sixteen-hour days.”
“What a novel concept.”
The Frenzy War Page 5
