Bangkok Warlock: A Mark Vedis Supernatural Thriller Book 1 (Southeast Asia Paranormal Police Department)

by John P. Logsdon

  “You can yell at her about it if you want, but I don’t think it’s going to do any good.”

  Fuck.

  A few tears came to my eyes. I wiped them away with my sleeve. It wasn’t like we were close, but Linda was a good person who had deserved better. Life couldn’t have been easy for her, but she never let it show and had a kind word for everyone. Too bad she’d had shitty taste in men.

  “Damn it,” I breathed, “I liked her. She always treated me nice.”

  “Yeah?” Zeke asked. “She was nice to me too, usually a few times a week. Did she do that thing with her tongue and the orange slices for you too?”

  I balled up my fist, but resisted the urge to punch him. He’d probably take it as a challenge. I mean, most people don’t like getting punched, but bulls are pretty high on the list of things not to mess with, unless you want to be trampled to death or spring a few leaks.

  Ever seen the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona?

  Those things don’t mess around, and werebulls are even more aggressive. I remember being called to investigate an incident around Halloween time, because a guy wore a cape to the bar, sparking a bullfighting incident. He was gored three times before he got it off and had to attend sensitivity training as punishment.

  “Not that kind of nice, asshole,” I said, counting to ten to calm down before continuing. “She treated me like a person and didn’t make my life harder.” I let out a long breath. “I wish it was you lying there, instead.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” he said. “Waste of a hell of a talented mouth.”

  That time I did punch him. It was like hitting a rock.

  He just laughed.

  “Ha, first time you’ve ever manned up. About time.” He took a beefy finger and flicked me on the forehead. “Do it again and I’ll feed you your teeth through your asshole.”

  Fair enough.

  “Look,” I said, shaking one hand in pain and rubbing my forehead with the other, “can we get out of here? My connector doesn’t work very well this far out in dust-fuck county, and I need to call for help. This is way over my head.” I tried to call Roberts in the car, but no dice. Something was either blocking it or I was too far out of range.

  Zeke sighed audibly. “It’d be nice, but the door don’t work.”

  “Of course it does,” I corrected him. “I just came in”.

  “Yeah, but you’re not getting out that way. I tried. It’s stuck. Why do you think I’m still here?”

  I reached out with my senses and noticed there was a cluster of energy around the door. I didn’t have to strain to detect it, which meant it was strong. There weren’t any runes that I could find, sot whatever had done this was still around. It had to be able close to control the magic.

  I scanned the room, looking for magic, stopping when I reached the largest of body piles.

  I swore to myself, stood up and pulled my gun, pointing it at the pile.

  “You are under arrest,” I called out with as much confidence as I could muster, silently praising the chief for forcing me go to the shooting range every week. “Come out with your hands up.”

  Chapter 3

  Zeke grabbed me and pulled me back down. “What’re you doing? It’s gonna hear us.”

  “It’s already heard us,” I told him. “It just hasn’t attacked for some reason. Now let me go, you idiot. I need to arrest whatever did this and get us the hell out of here before it brings any friends to join us.”

  “You’re the idiot,” he grumbled, but let me up.

  By the time I stood up, I noticed the bodies had shifted and some creature had emerged. It looked mostly human, but I saw a leg from a horse, a paw from a bear, and a few other parts that made me want to check the local police’s case files for reports of missing zoo animals. The face had glowing yellow eyes, but was definitely human, or humanoid anyway. It was an attractive face. Very attractive, which made the rest of its body look even more unnatural.

  That’s about as much as I noticed as I ran for the door.

  “Open,” I said as I pulled on the doorknob. Nothing. “Open Sesame. Abracabra. Wingardia Openthefuckupus!”

  I heard a laugh behind me. A dry, “I’m better than you” chuckle.

  “I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” the beast said. “Not after all the trouble I’ve gone to in order to bring you here. Not you specifically, of course, but a member of the vaunted Paranormal Police Department. I’m sure you will put up enough of a fight for my purposes.”

  He turned to face the bar.

  “Barman, come out would you?”

  As soon as he turned away I pulled out my gun and started shooting. To hell with arresting this guy. Taking him down would probably get me suspended, but better than getting killed. I got off about five shots before I ran behind the pool table to give me a little cover. The monster turned around, but didn’t move towards me. As he faced me I could see all the holes I’d just put into him heal.

  Not a good sign. If silver and wood didn’t work I was dealing with something pretty rare.

  “Are you finished?” he asked.

  I shot him three more times in response.

  “Zeke,” I yelled, pointing at the weapon on the wall behind the bar, “get your shotgun down and help me.”

  “What shotgun?” Zeke choked, faking innocence. “I don’t have any shotgun. If I did, I sure wouldn’t use it to shoot anyone who wasn’t attacking me.”

  I pointed at the weapon.

  “That old thing?” he said, pulling at his collar. “It’s just for show. I doubt it even works.”

  The monster stepped back so that he could see both of us.

  “Clever,” it said with a grin. “Barman, please retrieve the weapon.” As Zeke went to say something the beast waved a finger at him. “Your attempt at a ruse failed, my good man. Now please take up the weapon as this fine officer from the PPD suggested. It could make things interesting.”

  Zeke again started to object, but the monster stepped on one of the more intact bodies. He stared down Zeke as he did it, and gave him a full smile.

  “I beg of you not to make me ask again, Barman. I have the unfortunate tendency to react poorly when I’m not obeyed promptly.”

  Zeke slowly reached out and pulled down the double-barreled shotgun.

  The bar had to be inspected from time to time, another job I was assigned, and I knew from those inspections that Zeke kept that shotgun loaded with salt and silver buckshot. For all his talk about being manly, he seemed unprepared to blast someone to pieces if he had to.

  I took the opportunity to shoot the monster with my remaining rounds.

  Like the previous attempts, nothing happened.

  Well, something happened.

  He turned his attention on me again. Hopefully, that would suffice to give Zeke a chance to try his luck.

  “Will you please stop that?” the beast implored. “I’m trying to decide which one of you to dispatch first.”

  I was out of ammunition, so I threw the gun at him then followed that up with a fireball.

  He dodged to the left to avoid the gun, but the flame caught him square in the chest.

  It fizzled.

  So much for that. I thought I smelled singed hair, but that was about it.

  “I must warn you,” the thing said while tapping his chin with a finger from his normal hand, “your actions are altering the variables I must consider. Normally I’d kill you, since being a mage and a PPD officer makes you a bigger threat, at least on paper. But that fireball was…weak, and unless my count is wrong, you’ve just fired the last shot of a gun that you no longer even possess.” He glanced back at Zeke. “And that, I’m afraid, makes the werebull slightly more threatening.”

  I heard a blast as Zeke emptied both barrels at the same time.

  Into the ceiling.

  “Oh, damn,” he said, quickly, “I guess I’m out of ammo too. I’d say the officer is probably the bigger threat again.” He pointed at me. “Scary mage, thro
wing fire and ruining crops and stuff. Pretty sure he’s planning to turn you into a frog.” He coughed. “Told me as much while hiding behind the bar with me earlier, in fact.”

  I rolled my eyes at the lie. Any supernatural that paid the slightest attention knew that wasn’t how a mage’s power worked, but Zeke was either a bad liar or stupid. The safe bet was a combination of the two.

  “Thanks a lot, buddy,” I said.

  “Hey,” he replied with mock innocence, “you’re supposed to serve and protect me. Not my fault if you have to die to do that.” He licked his lips. “Guess you should have been a fireman or something. Not too many of them get ripped apart by monsters.”

  “That’s the normal cops,” I groaned in response. “I’m supposed to protect everyone else from you.” By now, I was standing up and had my hands on my hips. “Half of my job is keeping you and all the assholes like you off the news and away from the press. The other half is the paperwork I have to fill out each time people like you make trouble.”

  Zeke shrugged.

  “Whatever. My taxes pay your salary.” He motioned toward the creature. “What say we let fucking Frankenstein here eat you and I’ll call it square.”

  I was about to correct a whole lot of what he’d just said, but I didn’t have time.

  The monster was on Zeke in an instant, his hands grabbing him by the horns and flipping him on the bar. It groaned under his weight.

  “We do not appreciate that term,” said the beast, his voice calm, but his eyes glowing even brighter than before. “We Shaped, as those of us fortunate enough to bear the masters’ gifts prefer to be called, are glories of magic and flesh, not assorted cadaver parts thrown together by some overly lucky necromancer. You will show me and my brethren the respect we deserve, or I shall make your death especially painful.”

  As if putting a point on his statement, Frankenstein, or the Shaped, or whatever the fuck it was called, launched Zeke into the shelves of alcohol behind the bar. The werebull broke several bottles of mid-range liquor as he landed.

  The beast then stepped back and waited for Zeke to get back to his feet, moving to a spot where he could again see both of us.

  “I have a name, you know,” he stated, “In the few moments you have left I will allow you to address me as Elias of the Shaped.”

  Okay, so Elias was strong, fast, and pompous.

  But was he smart?

  Only one way to find out.

  “Uh, Elias?” I piped up, getting his attention. “Mister Shaped, sir?”

  He cast an eye my way. “Yes?”

  “Since you’ve obviously had a reason for bringing me here, would you care to let me know what it is?” I tilted my head. “It really seems like a shame to keep it to yourself.”

  “Oh, of course,” he replied, almost giddy. “The villain speech. I’ll indulge you, at least a little.”

  He motioned around the room, as if proudly displaying his deathly handiwork.

  Zeke was leaning heavily on the bar, rubbing the back of his neck. If he made it out of this alive, there’d be some ibuprofen in his future.

  “You might call this a test,” Elias announced. “A simulation, if you will. There are similar incidents happening in other locations around the world, with varying goals. I was tasked to come here, because, well, nobody cares what happens out here.” He reached down and patted one of the bodies. “I’d call it quite the success, if I’m being honest.”

  His head snapped up and he gave us both the once over. It wasn’t a threatening study this time. More like one of concern.

  “Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve indulged a new lust for blood and violence, yes, possibly due to werewolf DNA, but I only do so with solid reasoning.” He squinted as if trying to find the right words. “Killing merely to kill is…well, delightful, I suppose, but there is a time and place for play outside of work. By way of example, I left your friend Zeke here as bait. This proves I can put aside my hunger long enough to lure new prey.” He appeared quite proud of this fact. “You must admit this is quite the accomplishment for a simple fae. He looked down at himself. Well, not so simple anymore, I suppose.”

  He smirked as he said it, but was that a hint of sadness in his voice? The fae were notoriously vain about their looks, justifiably so. It had to be a major ego hit to look like human roadkill.

  “I did hope to test myself against a worthy adversary,” he lamented, “but it seems there’s none to be found on this day.” A shrug later, he added, “Well, one can’t have everything. I’ll complete the final portion of my test and return to the masters, ready to be Shaped even further.”

  “Final portion?” I was becoming interested, despite myself. This would be good information to pass along if I lived.

  “Yes. The Shapers go through many test subjects, unfortunately. I’m one of their strongest successes. As magnificent as I am, however, I can’t conquer the world alone. The masters need new test subjects, as well as materials to make me some new friends.”

  He looked back and forth between us.

  “So, which of you wishes to be my friend?”

  “Definitely me,” Zeke announced. I looked at the bar to see him with his hand raised and other arm holding it up. “I’d love to be your friend, Elias. Can we be friends right now?”

  I threw my hand up, too.

  “I would also like to be your friend,” I said, trying to give a genuine smile in the process. “With benefits, if I have to. I’ve been told I’m an excellent little spoon.”

  Elias shook his head and clucked his tongue in disapproval.

  “I don’t believe you, officer of the PPD.” He nodded his head to Zeke. “Him, I believe. He’d sell out his grandmother to make a few dollars.”

  Considering what Zeke had said about the hamburgers earlier, I really hoped that wasn’t true.

  Elias walked towards me.

  I backed up until the wall stopped my retreat. Then, I grabbed at my wrist.

  “I recognize you feel the need to stall,” Elias said, slowly advancing toward me, “hoping against hope for someone to save you, but enough is enough.” He shook his head sadly. “Do you honestly think I’ve never read a book, or seen a movie? Oh, officer of the PPD…you are acting so predictably.”

  I guess he was smart.

  Just my luck.

  “Who’s stalling?” I asked, raising my eyebrows in a show of innocence. “I just thought we could get to know each other a little. Maybe grab something to eat or catch a flick. What do you say…handsome?”

  That last word caused bile to rise in my throat. Was I proud of my tactic? No, but pride and the desperate need to survive were rarely in league with each other.

  Elias rolled his eyes. Considering the glowing effect they had, it was interesting.

  “Flattery?” he mused. “Now you’re starting to become pathetic. In order to allow you to die with some measure of dignity, I think I’ll dispatch you presently.”

  Before I could react, he’d finished closing the distance, grabbed me by the neck, and threw me across the room.

  I hit the front of the bar.

  Hard.

  There was a scream.

  Chapter 4

  The scream wasn’t from me, for once, since the impact had knocked the breath out of me for a few seconds.

  No, the scream came from my right.

  I saw a flash of a blond ponytail from the corner of my eye as I heard Zeke yell, “Kelly, get back here.”

  I glanced toward the door, my head throbbing from the violent collision I’d just been through. There was a young girl, no more than eight years old, and she was pulling at the handle and crying.

  “What the hell, Zeke?” I coughed, still struggling to catch my breath. “You said she was safe!”

  “She was,” he snapped back, running to grab Kelly. “Had her in the smuggler’s box under the bar. Good thing I’d already sold the last shipment.” His eyes flashed as he remembered who he was talking to. “I mean of bitcoin. Lots
of bitcoin in there. Perfectly legal.”

  It figured he’d had hidden compartments in the bar. I’d suspected he’d been running meth or something shady for a while, but he’d never drawn enough attention to himself for me to investigate anything that wasn’t in plain sight. I hadn’t even been allowed to confiscate the shotgun.

  I pulled at my wrist again, ignoring his poor attempt at a retraction. While my standard methodology was to run first and ask questions from a distance later, I’d found having a trick or two up my sleeve—literally in this case—was generally useful whenever the shit hit the fan. It didn’t happen often, and it had never happened like this before, but even an angry were rabbit could be quite a handful if it was drunk. Fortunately, I had a few things prepared at all times.

  This particular item was one that came from a wizard I’d made friends with when I was stationed in Dallas a few years back. His name was Oscar, and we’d bonded over toy collecting, Tex-Mex, and talking shit on everyone that didn’t respect us because we couldn’t kick ass on a moment’s notice.

  Oscar must have had some engineer leanings, because he was always creating gadgets. It took a while, but eventually he trusted me enough to test a few. Most of them failed or exploded, but he’d gotten better with each iteration. A few months back he’d sent me a bracelet to try out. I guess it was technically a friendship bracelet. The kind of friendship where you don’t particularly care if the other person dies testing your crazy ideas, but still friendship.

  The bracelet was made of beads of different materials and shapes. It was cool looking, but it also held a secret. Each bead had a rune embedded in it, and those runes all held spells.

  I pulled off two of them, both grey and round, and held them in my hand. I threw a fireball with the other hand, which he dodged. My goal wasn’t to knock him out with flames. I was merely trying to figure out his pattern.

  Another fireball erupted from my hand.

  He went left again.

  I’d counted on that.