Past Due

by Catherine Winchester

  Josh and Adam had taken seats on the same side of the table. Frankie just had time to realise she’d expected Josh to sit at the end of the table, like the head of the household used to do but her thoughts were interrupted.

  “I didn’t know how you liked your burgers,” Mark said, sitting opposite his brother and placing a plate in front of the empty chair next to him. “I hope well done is okay?”

  “Um, fine, thank you.” She sat down next to him, thinking what a surreal scene this was, the human, shapeshifters and vampire all breaking bread together.

  As well as a rather large burger there were bowls of coleslaw, potato salad and green salad on the table. As each bowl was passed to her, Frankie took a little to be polite.

  Josh, who sat opposite her, had only a wine glass half full of blood. Frankie wondered who’s it was.

  “We’ve always eaten together,” Mark grinned. Frankie realised she must look shocked. “Ever since we were kids. Even now, if we’re in the same city, we eat together.”

  “You travel a lot?” Frankie asked, wondering why she thought that was the most relevant question right now.

  “Fair amount,” Mark told her, in between mouthfuls. “Adam and I have a couple of holiday parks. Nothing special, just camp grounds and outdoor activities, hiking, climbing, that sort of thing.”

  “Oh,” Frankie was well aware that when she looked back on this she’d kick herself but right now she couldn’t think of anything more coherent to say.

  “Any luck with the phone calls?” Josh asked.

  “Those calls will be monitored,” she told them.

  Josh smiled at her, pleased she was sharing the information with him, even if it was old news. “I know. We’re using pay as you go mobiles phones which can’t be traced back to us.”

  “They're called burn phones, Dad,” Adam admonished.

  Josh just turned to his sons and waited patiently for one of them to answer his question.

  Adam and Mark took it in turns to fill their father in on their progress and Frankie finally had the chance to look the brothers over.

  Adam was the older of the two; he was probably in his late thirties. Mark looked to be mid thirties. Both were about six feet tall, had thick brown hair and a muscular build. Adam wore a wedding ring but his brother didn’t and Adam appeared to be the more serious of the two while Mark’s grin never seemed to be far away.

  It appeared that they were still waiting to hear from some people but so far they hadn’t found out anything useful.

  Frankie ate the food, which was good, and listened to the conversation, which was bad. At least ‘bad’ from a detecting point of view since they hadn't learned much. She also found her gaze sliding to Josh and his wine glass. It was just so strange to see someone drinking blood.

  When the meal was over Josh and Adam excused themselves to check messages while Mark cleared up. Frankie volunteered to help.

  Mark began collecting their plates. “He’s not so bad, you know.”

  Frankie began to help. Her raised eyebrows told him she didn’t believe him.

  “I know he comes off as arrogant and menacing, and I suppose in some ways he is but there are two sides to him.”

  “So what’s this other side like then?”

  “Well, when we were kids, he read to us in bed every night, and he’d leave work if we were sick. When we were young and still had to change at the full moon he always went hunting with us. And he was so protective.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, he insisted we go to normal school because he said we had to learn to blend in with normal people. We both hated it. Sure, we can see the logic now but as kids we just wanted to be with people who understood, you know?”

  Frankie nodded. She knew the feeling only too well.

  “Anyway, couple of months after we started this guy in Adam’s year started picking on him. He didn’t tell anyone but Dad knew something was up. Then one day Adam came home with a shiner; he couldn't hide it anymore and the whole story came out. I don’t remember ever seeing Dad so angry”

  Frankie had an awful feeling. “He killed the boy?” she breathed.

  “What? No! He put the whammy on him. Whenever this kid though of bullying anyone he’d burst into song, usually popular musical numbers. He was a laughing stock for a while. What made you think dad killed him?”

  “He said it had been over thirty years since he’d killed anyone out of malice.”

  “Oh.” Mark turned away and began to rinse the plates in the sink. “That was thirty three years ago.” He said quietly.

  Frankie wanted to ask what happened but he sounded so hurt, she didn’t know how.

  “He found us in the woods,” Mark explained. “We’d been huddled by our parents' bodies for nearly a day when he found us, still in our cub forms. We were too young and too traumatised to change back to human form so we just stayed there. When Josh found us we were terrified, we thought the hunters had come back. He calmed us down and took us home and got the whole story out of us. It was just a couple of thugs with a bow and arrow taking potshots at the wildlife. When they came across our parents' they couldn’t believe their luck. Especially since they wouldn’t run; they stayed in front of us to protect us.”

  “They killed your parents with arrows?” Frankie couldn’t imagine the slow painful death they had suffered.

  Mark nodded. “And once they’d fallen they just used them as target practice until they finally stopped screaming.”

  “Oh god.”

  “After we’d gone to sleep, dad went out every night for a month until he found them again. He put the whammy on them first, to make sure it was them.”

  Thankfully Mark didn’t go into any detail about what Josh had done to them, maybe he didn’t know himself, but somehow Frankie couldn't bring herself to hate Josh for those murders.

  “So he’s a good friend but a bad enemy,” Frankie concluded, moving the conversation on.

  “Yeah I guess. Anyway, he likes you.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.”

  Mark turned and grinned at her, “You’re still alive aren’t you?”

  “So are a lot of people; does he like them all too?”

  Mark held his hands up in defeat. “All I’m saying is that you’re the first stranger he’s invited into his home in… well, as long as I can remember. He must see something he likes in you.”

  “He had your brother check me out, remember?”

  He shrugged. “I said he likes you, I didn’t say he was stupid.”

  Frankie brought Josh’s wineglass to the sink. “Who was tonight’s donor?” she asked lightly, surveying the viscous red liquid still in the bottom of the glass.

  “Oh, that was me.”

  Frankie’s shock must have shown on her face. “He feeds off you?” Suddenly the gesture of taking two orphans in didn’t seem so altruistic.

  “Only sometimes, and we made him.”

  Frankie began to think they had Stockholm Syndrome, or something very similar; he’d even made them believe it was their idea!

  “He used to get a couple of bags a week from the hospital when we were kids but sometimes there’d be an emergency and he’d have to feed the old fashioned way, on people. But he had to leave the house for that, it takes time and it’s hardly worth all the bother for half a cup of blood.”

  “That’s all he needs?”

  “Mostly. He’s quite old now,” he said as if that explained it. “And anyway, as we heal much faster than regular people, it just made sense to us that he should take blood from us when he’s caught short. Still took us three years to talk him into it. Eventually we began replacing his bagged blood with our own and after we’d been doing that for three months, we told him.” He grimaced at the memory.

  “Not pleasant?”

  “I’ll say. He hit the roof, almost literally. Anyway, he promised he’d take our blood when necessary if we promised to stop replacing the blood bags with our own blood.”

 
Okay, maybe she had jumped to conclusions. “I don’t mean to be rude, but isn’t it unusual for shapeshifters and vampires to get along?”

  “It is,” he agreed. “But Dad’s always got on well with the shifters. He’s sort of unique among vamps.”

  “Why?”

  “Not my story to tell, sorry.”

  Josh scowled at them as he walked in. If this was what being liked felt like, she was just glad he didn’t hate her.

  “Our German friend emailed the details of the zombie ritual,” he said handing her a sheet of paper.

  Frankie immediately took it to the table to look it over. The first stage was making two runes engraved with the demons symbol. The runes had to be made from clay mixed with ash from a corpse.

  Frankie made a note on her pad to check for break-ins at crematoriums.

  “Why is the demons symbol on the rune?” she asked Josh, who was hovering behind her, watching.

  “A human doesn’t have the power to resurrect the dead so he siphons off a little from a demon.”

  She carried on reading. One rune was placed in the deceased’s mouth, the other was held to the witch's forehead. The witch then placed his free hand on the corpse and recited an incantation three times which essentially directed the demon to reanimate the body.

  She made a note to check if the police had found a rune in the corpse’s throat, then continued.

  The body could be possessed by the witch placing the rune on his forehead again and reciting another incantation.

  To end the reanimation, the runes must be rejoined. Frankie’s hopes soared; if that rune was in evidence, it was something that Bradley had touched and could be used to scry for him.

  Her hopes were dashed with the next sentence though. Rejoining involved both runes being crushed and sprinkled over the zombie.

  Frankie sighed and scratched the rune note out.

  There had to be something here, though. She read though the information again.

  “The body!” she stood up so fast that her chair slammed into Josh’s legs and stopped, causing her to stumble. Josh caught her and she flinched, expecting to be assaulted with memories at his touch. When none came she opened her eyes.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled. It would take time before she stopped expecting those psychic assaults; it was almost instinct now.

  Josh was frowning. “I have no desire to hurt you.” He hadn't let her go, as though to prove he wouldn’t hurt her. She saw Mark staring too, looking unhappy with her.

  “I know, it isn’t you, honestly. It’s… a long story.”

  Josh stared into her eyes for a moment longer, as though looking for the truth then stepped away from her. “You were saying something about the body?” he reminded her.

  “Yes!” her excitement returned. “The killer touched the body as part of the ritual and he possessed it. We might be able to use that to scry for his location.”

  Frankie pulled her phone out and called Clara.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Alex had scanned the club patrons, even reading as many thoughts as he could, but he hadn't discovered any trace of Brad. He would try again later but now he wanted to hear from Josh.

  Josh had called him and told him of Frankie’s plan to meet up with a writer, but he very carefully hadn't told Alex which writer. Alex had understood that Josh knew him well enough to know he’d have driven there himself. It was Josh’s motive for wanting to go himself that had Alex worried.

  Using Frankie to further their investigation was bad enough and Alex hoped there wasn’t anything more to his curiosity.

  He went back to his office and called Josh’s home. He should have been back a while now and the lack of an update worried Alex.

  He was surprised when Mark answered the phone.

  “He’s a bit busy at the moment, Alex. I’ll tell him you called.”

  “Can’t you tell me what he’s found?”

  “To be honest, I haven’t asked. Adam and I are following our own leads.”

  “So you have nothing new?”

  “We might have a lead from the grimoire. Frankie thinks that we can use the ex-zombie to track the killer.”

  “Frankie’s there!” he growled.

  “Yep, followed Dad home.”

  “I’m coming round.”

  Mark hesitated. “I wouldn’t advise it.”

  “I don’t care what you advise. I’m coming.” He hung up.

  “Campbell,” he answered the phone without looking up from the witness statements.

  “It’s Frankie. I might have a lead but I need access to the body from the beach.”

  “What for?”

  “You won’t like it.”

  “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”

  He heard Frankie sigh. “I want a witch to use it to try and find our killer.”

  Will opened and closed his mouth a couple of times but couldn’t decide on the appropriate response.

  “It’s our best hope,” Frankie eventually continued. “It might not work but right now it’s all we have.”

  He noted the desperation in her voice. “What’s up?”

  She hesitated for a moment. “We have a deadline.”

  Yeah, I know he’s probably going to kill another girl tomorrow night.”

  “No, Will, tomorrow night it’s over. Unless we stop him, he’ll unleash a demon into this world.”

  Will leaned back in his chair.

  “Just tell me where the body is; I’ll handle the rest.”

  “They won’t let just anyone look over the body, Frankie, and they certainly won’t let you do a magic trick over it.”

  “Will, please, just let me worry about that. Where is the body?”

  Will was too tired to think coherently. Life wasn’t making much sense anymore and he wasn’t sure which way was up. Frankie was a big girl and could look after herself. “The hospital on Old Dalkeith Road.”

  “Thanks, Will. I… Thanks.”

  Frankie, Josh, Mark, Clara and her husband, Peter, had entered the hospital through the Accident and Emergency department since that was the only one open. Frankie knew you could get anywhere you wanted once inside.

  As long as they weren’t stopped. Sometimes it was handy having your own vampire who was able to alter peoples' thoughts but Frankie could see Clara was uncomfortable with Josh using his talents.

  It had taken her a while to figure it out but when the third person who spoke to them suddenly turned away mid-sentence, she’d figured out what he was doing.

  The morgue’s location wasn’t on any signs so Josh had entered the mind of a porter to find its location. Once they entered the morgue, he quickly cleared the room of the attendant.

  “How long will he be gone?” Frankie asked.

  “An hour. He thinks his boss asked him to change his break time.”

  Frankie nodded her approval. “I’ll watch the doors while you set up,” she told the witches.

  Mark and Josh got the body out from one of the drawers and Frankie noticed that one of her bullets had shattered the shoulder joint; she could see splintered bone. No wonder Brad needed a new body; that arm would be almost useless without its joint. It must have been difficult to kill that last victim too. She forced her thoughts back to the corridor and listened for signs of anyone approaching.

  Clara and Peter set the map out at the end of the table, blessed the crystal, and began. They stood either side of the table; both held the leather strap that the crystal was attached to and placed one hand on the body as they began chanting. Mark came and joined her at the door.

  The crystal didn’t move for a few minutes and Frankie began to fear that this wouldn’t work. Clara had explained that the spell would either find the location of whoever created the zombie, or it would find the location of the body, specifically, the hospital they were in right now.

  Frankie was beginning to lose hope, when she saw the crystal swing very slightly. Her gaze zeroed in on it and she forgot all about listening
for approaching footsteps. She said a silent prayer, something she hadn’t done since she had left home, and watched as the crystal began to circle the map, hovering above it. One, two, three rotations. Four, five, six, seven and then it landed.

  Everyone rushed over to see where it had landed.

  “Blackfriars Street,” Josh said.

  “It’s not big,” Mark noted. “We should be able to find him relatively easily.”

  “If we start a search, that could tip him off and he’ll run before we get to him,” Josh countered.

  “But we can’t just wait around for him to show himself.”

  Frankie finally decided to bite the bullet. “I’ll recognise the place,” she said quietly. “I’ve seen it before.”

  She shrank back as all eyes turned to her, some interested, some accusing.

  “I’m psychic, I saw what it looks like but I didn’t know where it was.”

  “That’s it,” Frankie said as they peered around the corner. “That church.”

  They ducked back around the corner, out of sight of the building. Clara and Peter had needed to return home so they could get their children ready for school. Frankie didn't begrudge them leaving, but she did hope they wouldn't need them again.

  Josh checked his watch. “I suggest a dual attack from the front and the rear. Mark, you make your way around the back and I’ll take the front once you’re in position.”

  Mark nodded and headed off to find a way around the back of the building.

  “Why? And how will you know he’s in position?” Frankie wondered.

  “I’ll read his mind,” he explained. “And the back should be easier to creep up on. Whilst there’s little cover in this street, I can make it from here to the door in seconds.”

  “What do I do?” She asked.

  “I want you to phone around.” He handed her his mobile. “If we don’t come out in thirty minutes, call Adam and Alex, tell them where we are and what’s happening.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait for them?”

  Josh shook his head. “It’s usually best to act fast in these situations. Besides, the more people we have, the easier we’ll be to spot. If we fail, they, and you, are the back up.”