I tiptoed through the stagnant water all the way to the rear stall. Normally I would feel a twinge of guilt for using the handicapped stall, especially in a building full of seniors, but it was the only one without a layer of water covering the floor. Apparently this stall had the only working drain.
With my pants on the floor and me seated on the toilet, doing my business, I looked around to admire the artwork on the stalls. For some reason, people are never content to just sit in one place for a few minutes. Judging by the consistency of the ink, most of the writing was done years ago. Probably well before Alfred took over the building. On the right wall alone, every racial slur I knew was written no less than three times. Scattered between the profanity, there were dozens of phone numbers hastily jotted, or etched, into the metal barrier between the stalls. I imagined over half of them were the results of failed relationships with the other half being numbers of enemies.
Have you ever wondered what happens when you actually call one of the numbers written on the bathroom wall in a public restroom? Normally, I try to ignore these messages when I do my business, because I'm not here looking for a good time, but there was one message that had my attention. Three simple words followed by a phone number.
Vampire for Hire
In the last few years, cell phones have replaced newspapers as the number one source of entertainment in the john. I'm personally not immune to this phenomenon. Usually, I take the time to check my email or do a little research on whatever nasty I find myself hunting at the time though I'm not against playing a hand or two of Texas Hold 'em when I get the chance. Even in a cesspool like this.
With my phone at the ready, I did the responsible thing and took a picture of the message so I could call it when my business was done. I hate it when people call me while they're doing the deed, so the last thing I wanted to do is call someone else. Thankfully it was over fast, long before the anxiety of the pending phone call had a chance to fester. I stopped on my way out to wash my hands using the leaky and rusted bathroom faucet before heading out to my car to make the call.
It was more out of morbid curiosity than anything else at this point. Either this was a kid that didn't have a clue they really exist, or there was a vampire out there down on his luck. Either way, it was worth a few moments to find out. At the worst, I end up claiming I dialed the wrong number and move on.
"Silas Murphy, how can I help you?" the man on the other end said with a calm and cool voice that sounded eerily similar to Liam Nielson.
"You aren't going to believe this if I told you, but I found your number on the wall of a bathroom stall," I said, trying to keep it together. "Are you really a vampire?"
"Does that surprise you?" he asked, voice still poised.
"Honestly, yes. It's not every day one of your kind comes out in the open like that."
"Indeed."
Sensing his irritation on the phone, I decided it was best to cut to the chase. "What kind of work are you willing to do?"
"Anything short of turning you, or someone you know, into one of my kind."
"So, hypothetically speaking, if I wanted you to jump off a bridge into the Ohio River, you would do it?"
He laughed. "It's your money. If you are willing to pay, I'm more than willing to jump."
I shuffled around in the seat, trying to get comfortable. He did say anything was fair game. There's only one thing left to see.
"So," I said. "How, and when, do I pay?"
"I was starting to wonder if you were looking to hire me, or if you just wanted to play twenty questions," he said. "You pay half the price up front, the rest when I do the job."
"Sounds good," I said. "I have a few things I could have you do. Always in the market for another assistant."
He laughed again. "Good. Meet me at the corner of Pleasant and Green at one AM and we can discuss the contract."
Pleasant and Green? Tonight? I wasn't quite expecting to catch something so soon. Part of me wanted to panic, but I pulled myself together long enough to give him a response.
"I'll be there," I said, hastily hanging up the phone.
It could be nothing, but my wizard's intuition was telling me there was more to the ad than meets the eye. What vampire in their right mid would put himself out in the open like that with little to gain. Unless he had a fetish that involved eccentric millionaires. Either way, I guess I'll find out tonight.
"I'd skip that appointment, if I were you," Stacy said, concern obvious in her voice. I called her up wanting to fill her in on the developments of the case. Specifically Alfred and his Gentleman's club. I wanted to have her dig up a little more information on the men in the files, and Alfred. Max was worried about something here, but I couldn't pinpoint what. Knowing him, he was just overreacting, having seen the mess I got myself into taking care of Brad. As of now, what evidence I had wasn't pointing to foul play though I knew better than to trust the newspaper, or my intuition. Boulder taught me to question even that.
Of course, I had to be stupid and mention the number I found on the wall. Then I had to go into detail about how I called it, and the meeting I set for tonight. She was already on edge with me being sent out here so soon after getting out of the hospital. It wasn't going to take much to get her riled up.
"It's just a vampire. They signed a treaty years ago vowing never to attack a wizard in cold blood," I said. "Besides. I fought more than my fair share before the treaty."
"I don't know. Something just doesn't seem right."
She was going to go on about this for hours if I didn't change the subject. Even that was no guarantee of a tongue lashing if I tried, but I had to take the risk. I couldn't afford to have a mopey assistant. Especially now.
"I had the front desk clerk at the hotel email you a copy of the files I got from Alfred. Do a check on all the victims, and on Alfred Jacobs, and get back to me. If you find something horrible before my meeting, I'll skip out. Otherwise, it's the only lead I have."
"You know, it's not fun working for a boss who tries to kill himself at least once a month," she said before hanging up on me.
When I hired her, I never saw the protective streak she showed the following years. Sure, she had always been overly sensitive to some of the issues I brought up, but I always assumed it was just her doing what women do. Which is to say, I have no clue what they do besides worry about the men closest to them. For some reason, after thirty years of life, I still didn't seem to understand them.
I placed my suitcase on the bed and pulled out everything I needed for tonight. Namely the walking stick that conceals one of my two swords, a Maglite flashlight, my digital recorder with a spare set of batteries, and a spare set of clothes. I considered packing some holy water or a cross, but I knew it wouldn't do a whole lot of good. Sure, they can be used to repel a vampire, or anything undead or inherently evil, but it won't stop them. The only thing that can do that is removing their head, which is why I grabbed the sword. Not to mention sunlight though I have little control over that. Any vampire that has lived long enough has pushed the issue at dawn, a few didn't live long enough to try it again. Sunlight kills them a lot slower than a decapitation, but if you want one to suffer before it goes, it is the preferred method.
Most of the information you've probably read about vampires is wrong. Wooden stakes, garlic, crosses, the list goes on. At worst they work as an irritant, at best a temporary solution. Take a stake, for example. Driving one through the heart of a vampire will, indeed, stop it in its tracks. The only bad thing is that the stake must stay in the same location the whole time to keep the vampire from coming back. They have a supernatural regeneration ability that makes my ring look like a band-aid in comparison. Within minutes of the stake falling out of place, the vampire will come back to life and I guarantee he won't be a happy camper.
With my care package at the ready, I picked up to call Max. I knew he was already worried about me being put on the case, so I wanted keep him filled in. The only problem is that hi
s phone is constantly going to voicemail. After leaving two messages this morning, I decided to pass this time and put the phone in my pocket. Looking at the fully functional alarm clock on the night stand, I saw it was closing in on ten o'clock, giving me three hours to wait. My stomach was starting to grumble since I hadn't eaten a thing all day. I decided to head downtown and grab a bite instead of sitting around the hotel. After all, it doesn't make sense to visit another city if you aren't willing to partake in their food.
I'm always willing to partake in food.
- 7 -
At twelve thirty, the corner of Pleasant and Green was still empty, the only signs of movement being two stray dogs, three opossum, a raccoon and her four cubs, and one overly melodramatic cat that's spent the last half hour howling on a nearby fence. I was starting to get worried he wasn't going to show even though he still had time. Part of me assumed he was the punctual type though I was learning otherwise.
Either way, I was sitting a block down the street fidgeting with my phone while I waited for my guest to show up. Not the most productive use of an evening, I'll admit, but I couldn't stand sitting in that coffee shop a moment longer. They drew me in with a picture of an amazing looking sandwich with roast beef, turkey, and something I assumed was salami, but I quickly learned was braunschweiger when the meat touched my tongue. If the sandwich wasn't bad enough, the coffee was about as bitter as the couple in the corner, arguing over who forgot to pay the phone bill this month. I got the feeling it was a conversation they had often though why they decided to have it there was beyond me. So I left the coffee, and most of the sandwich, sitting on the counter and ran out to my car. My rumbling stomach was telling me to find somewhere to eat, but I there wasn't enough time. It would have to wait until after the meeting, then I'd find a Waffle House or a Steak and Shake and hang out with all the other insomniacs.
After waiting fifteen minutes, I settled into my third hand of online poker. For the first time in a while, I was dealt a great hand. I could have made a kings ransom with it at a normal table, but in the online world, people always seem to have bigger balls. The Internet is the only place I ever saw people play pure junk hands and win. Until Winston at the club that is.
I went all in shortly after the turn when I paired up both my ace and king. A smile formed on my lips when two other players called, falling into my trap. I was about to revel in my victory when I heard a rap on the window. I sighed and closed my game, then rolled down the window. The man on the other side was about my size, wearing a dark silk tee-shirt and a pair of button up slacks. Around his neck he wore a necklace with a golden cross-like item hooked onto the golden chain. Everything about the man screamed vampire, but clearly wasn't one unless he was turned recently or found a way to play in the sun. The giveaway was the visible tan line around his eyes, telling me he wore sunglasses during the day.
"You Silas?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"I am not," he said, offering me his hand. "Simply his pet. The one he sends to meet with his clients."
A familiar. I wanted to spit at the thought of the boot licking scum in front of me. I don't hate the concept behind them, only the practice as the vampires love to push the relationship to the limit by forcing them to do things they wouldn't do on their own. The kicker is that there isn't even a guarantee they'll turn you. Over the years I've heard of people who have given up everything to become a familiar. Their high paying jobs. Fancy houses and cars. There are plenty that even give up their families for the chance of becoming one.
Familiars are people who go around kissing the butts of vampires in hopes of getting turned into one some day. They are used in a variety of ways ranging from handling their affairs in the daytime hours to guard duty. This unfortunate soul looks to be an errand boy. I didn't surprise me that Silas would send a familiar to meet me. If I was in his spot, I would do the same thing. I still felt cheated, but I wasn't about to back down now.
"So what's the deal?" I asked. "Do I just tell you what I want done?"
He shook his head and laughed. "I'm only here to show you the real meeting spot. Silas meets with all of his clients personally."
"Silas isn't the trusting type, is he?" I asked, unlocking the passenger side door.
"He's had some... threats recently." He took a seat next to me in the front and began punching something into my GPS unit on the dashboard. "Just follow these directions." He finally said after a few minutes.
"Easy enough."
The route he punched in sent me through the heart of Cincinnati, passing by many of the city landmarks. Some of them two or three times. It didn't take me long to realize he was trying to get me lost. The joke's on him though. I was lost before I started waiting on Pleasant.
During the drive I tried, and failed, to start a conversation with the man no less than three times as I wanted to know what made the man tick. He wouldn't be able to answer for everyone, but I felt I would've had a better understanding of them if he would've spoke.
After nearly forty minutes I pulled up to a small building just off the Ohio river. By saying it was a building I was being overly generous. It was more the size of a high school concession stand. I half expected to be ambushed by a horde of homeless people by the time I turned off the lights, but the threat never came. Instead I took my lead from the man in my car.
"This is it?" I asked.
He nodded then opened the door. "He should be here shortly."
I turned around, attempting to follow his movements, but lost him in a matter of moments thanks to the lack of light in the parking lot. My mind shifted to Stacy and what she would think if she knew that I not only went to the meeting place, but followed the directions of a complete stranger to a totally different one. I would have to make it up to her when I got back home. We may be the farthest thing from a couple, but next to Max she was the only family I had. I hated making her worry any more than the job called for, but she needed to learn I can't always run from danger. Sometimes the only option is to confront it.
With nothing better to do, I stepped out of the car to stretch my legs. After sitting in the car for nearly two hours, my legs have had all they can take. The first few steps were rough as I worked the tingling sensation out of my calves, but the sensation faded before I made a full pass around the car.
"You must be Raymond," I heard a voice say, approaching from my rear. Unless he was more paranoid than I thought, there was only one person this had to be.
- 8 -
Silas was extremely tall for a human, easily towering a foot above me. If he weren't undead, I could see him dominating in the NBA, or at least be good enough to have a steady job. He was wearing a black duster that draped down to his knees, leaving a gap in the front to show off a pair of black pants and a blue polo shirt. Around his neck he wore a necklace with a charm that looked similar to a dragon, but in a weirder shape. If I had to guess, it was a representation of one vampire god or another. I never felt the need to study which was which. The only thing I knew is that they took their gods seriously. If you ever find yourself wanting to provoke one, find some choice words to say about their deity. Just make sure you are ready for the hell they'll unleash on you.
As he entered the light, I noticed his pale white skin of his face reflecting the rays of the moon though his eyes were covered by a pair of mirrored sunglasses. He smiled through his thin white lips revealing a maw full of perfectly polished white teeth, easily six shades brighter than his skin.
"The same," I said, stopping my stroll. "You the real Silas, or another familiar?"
"So you know about familiars," he said. "Few in the normal world know the whole truth about us."
"I know quite a few things about your kind," I said, watching him intently. He stopped his approach near a pile of rotting pallets ten feet away, which made me feel more comfortable in the situation, but just barely. Vampires are known for their superhuman strength, and speed, so it wouldn't take long for him to be on top of me. Even as I moved t
o put the car between us.
"So, Mr. Gilmore, What is the job you called me for?"
I reached into back, pulling out the stack of files from the club. "Not so much a job as it is a series of questions."
He laughed loudly, his voice carrying through the night air of the riverfront. "I don't do questions."
"Not even when they involve people found dead after leaving a club? The same club that I found your number advertised on the wall of the only working toilet?"
He crept over, grabbing the stack of files off the hood of my car and scanned through them. "These were not my doing," he said, placing the folder back down on the hood. "Far too much blood left on the scene for my tastes."
"Then explain how your number got on the wall."
"I cannot," he said, pulling out his phone. "But I assure you, a gentleman's club is the last place I would look to advertise."
I sat down on the hood of the car to think things over for a moment. Listening to his story there were only two conceivable solutions. Either he was a liar and set the whole thing up from the beginning, or he is telling the truth and someone set him up. If I had more time to dig into the details I'd be able to come up with something more solid, but for now I have to play like the first scenario is true.
"Do you have any enemies, Silas?" I asked, watching his body language as he answered.
"Of course," he said. "We all have enemies."
"How about one that would make sure your number ended up in the path of a wizard who was sent here to investigate the deaths."
"You," he said. "A wizard?"
I nodded, not wanting to be suckered into showing my cards too early.
Vampire for Hire: The Nephalem Files (Book 2) Page 4
