Trinity: The Complete Trilogy (The Twin Cities Series)

by Drew Avera

  I heaved for air as I sprawled out on the cold ground, both men looking down at me like I was some kind of animal. How did these losers know about the Realms?

  "Dispatch, we have a one forty eight, we're bringing him in," Baker said into his radio, the clear ear piece was barely visible as the morning sun haloed around his head.

  "Was that really necessary?" Ramirez asked, ignoring my gaze entirely at this point.

  Baker looked at the man, who was clearly his subordinate in this case. "We have our orders, bring him in, and collect a reward, done. I don't know about you, but I've got some gambling debt to pay off. I can't afford another one of these," he lifted his gloved left hand and I could see that the pinkie finger was folded over, empty where the finger should have been.

  "Put that shit away, man," Ramirez said uncomfortably as he reached down to pull me up.

  I groaned, still struggling to suck in air.

  They moved me across the street to their unmarked squad car. The dark navy blue was almost black, but it had an inviting, hard back seat. Obviously it was not designed for the comfort of the suspect. The clear glass between the cops and I was marked with spots which I assumed was probably spit from a drug dealer or hooker who was more appalled than I was to be arrested. Have these guys never heard of glass cleaner?

  "What do you guys want?" I choked out, finally able to regulate my breathing, though my back hurt where the kid hit me.

  "I'm sure you heard the gist of it," Baker answered. "We were assigned to bring you in by someone pretty important in the Realms. We'll leave who as a surprise," he chuckled.

  "These people are dangerous men and women to deal with, trust me." I said, though if they were assigned to haul me in, then what did that say about these two?

  "Really, you don't say," Ramirez chimed in as he took a swig of burnt coffee from a Styrofoam cup. The aroma was nice, though I doubted it was flavored with the sugar and cream that made it taste like a liquid desert just the way that I liked it.

  I sat back in the seat and noticed that the radio never went off from the dispatcher's response when they called in the arrest. That was a curious little piece of the puzzle. Usually there was a constant balk over the waves with the kind of place we were in. That could mean only one thing.

  They were taking me directly to their employer. No jail cell buffer before I hit the big time apparently.

  I fingered the silver rosary on my wrist and stifled a smile. Things were finally looking up.

  Chapter 5

  The squeal of brakes in front of a rather impressive office building heralded our arrival. There was another suit near the entrance, but this one was dressed like me, to the nines in black, save for the crimson dress shirt with the collar folded over the suit jacket collar. He must be trying to look too cool for school, or whatever the saying was, I thought to myself.

  Once inside, my cop friends took the cuffs off. I guessed they felt that I was no threat with the hulking Guido guard nearby. I ran my fingers along my wrists trying to rub away the discomfort.

  "Follow me," the guard said with an accent that was dead on for someone out of Jersey.

  I shuffled in step with him as we moved to an elevator that I assumed would take us to the top floor. Apparently my guess-o-meter was flawed today considering the elevator descended to the basement. That quickened my pulse a bit, the only people who liked the dank underground were not my favorite people in this world, or that world, or any world to be honest.

  "Mr. Grimm," I was greeted as we turned the corner. The voice was not one that I had expected, it was a woman, and she was not wearing the purple colors of the Raven Court, not that it meant anything either way. Perhaps she was acting of her own accord.

  "Tabitha," I said with as much fake warmth and sincerity as she had. It seemed that she liked me more than I did her. Not unusual when you're the one building their wealth by killing their enemies. Baker smirked behind me and whispered something to Ramirez about my being a smart ass.

  Thanks for noticing.

  "I trust that the accommodations were to your liking?" she said sarcastically. Her black pant suit was accented with silver heels and her delicate looking fingers sported a French manicure. I smiled to myself as I imagined her French self, eating French fries with those French manicured nails. The smile didn't last long.

  "The accommodations were shit, you know that. These lap dogs should be taken out back and put out of your misery," I said with a nod towards Baker who eyed me nervously. Seemed that he thought I had some clout with the woman.

  I did, but not that much, unfortunately.

  "Yeah, well I didn't summon you for your bitter little opinion. I have a job for you, but it's sensitive."

  "How sensitive is it?" I asked.

  She placed her hands on her hips and looked at the men behind me until they finally got the message and left, all but the guard. He obviously was either too thick to get it or he wasn't expected to leave. She continued, "The Raven has gone too far this time, we have laws that are designed to prevent the murders you've been committing in the Realms. I understand his logic, and I know you are just carrying out your sentence, but you need to understand, Alexander, Genevieve Le Fortier was my friend. She was not a threat to his rule. She was not a witness who needed expulsion."

  "I get it, he's a megalomaniac, but I can't do anything about that. I'm bound to him, you know that."

  "Indeed."

  "Then why am I here?" I asked.

  She paced behind her desk with her arms folded in front of her. Her blond hair was in a tight bun, with small strands fallen along the side of her head, she brushed one side back behind her ear as she turned to look at me. Perfectly red lips spoke, "I want to release you from that bond."

  That sounded like a dream come true. But?

  "There are complications with that as I'm sure you are well aware."

  "I've read the law of the Realms. I'm pretty much bound till death," I answered.

  "Yes, well. What do you say?"

  Was that a question?

  "About?"

  "Dying? It's the only way to break the bond, Alexander."

  This woman was crazier than the Raven if she thought I would agree to her fanaticism. "The only reason I am still breathing is to protect my daughter. My life is a ransom. If I die, then the protection she is under is void. Trust me, lady, my life means shit to me, but I can't condemn my daughter to a death because neither of us can easily tolerate our boss."

  There, that sounded reasonable, I thought.

  "What if I could guarantee her safety?"

  "Talk is cheap. In the Realms, only the Raven can guarantee such things. You wanting to kill me won't bring about the end to his reign. He would need to die too."

  "That's the point. You are feared, Mr. Grimm. With your death his enemies would rally. Can you imagine the sweetness of revolution in the Realms? Can you taste the freedom that his death would ring in?" she said.

  I thought for a moment. "No, but I can taste the blood on my tongue that is my own death. I may be a pawn to the Raven, but I'm the king of my own chess board. I can't make a self-condemning move."

  "I understand," she said as she stepped around her desk and walked closer to me. She took my hands and I could see her wince as the silver rosary burned against her flesh. She steadied her resolve and lifted her lips to my cheek and kissed it. I could smell the charred flesh now, as nauseating as it could be. "Let me know if you change your mind. I promise to protect your daughter if you do what is needed for me to protect my family."

  I looked down at our hands interlocked together like some kind of twisted lovers. She looked no older than twenty, I looked old enough to be her father, though she was hundreds of years my senior. He blue eyes bore into my own and I nodded. "You'll be the first to know."

  "I know. I'm expecting an answer tonight. You'll know where to find me," she smiled, exposing perfectly white teeth, the points of her fangs barely visible since she was not in the throes of hunger
. She released my hands and turned back to her desk. "Julian, please see Mr. Grimm to the exit."

  Julian, my guard placed a thick hand on my shoulder, but it was a gentle touch for such a large man. Together we walked to the elevator and ascended back to the lobby where the cops still waited.

  "Well?" Baker asked.

  "Give me back my piece," I said with an extended hand. Baker shook his head to Ramirez who handed it back to me, loaded. I holstered it.

  "What about our reward?" Baker asked of Julian.

  "You're alive, isn't that reward enough?" Julian said.

  The look on their faces was priceless.

  "So, guys. You think I can get a ride back?" I said, cutting into their dismay with a nod towards their car.

  Baker looked at me with enough scorn to set a fire. "Screw you."

  "I guess not. Julian, do you have a phone so I can call a cab?"

  "I've already made arrangements, Mr. Grimm. Your driver will be here shortly. Would you like to have a seat?"

  "Yes, I would. Thank you, Julian." I said as I stepped past the cops. "See that? That's called hospitality. You'd do yourself a favor to follow suit, now that you're employed by the Raven's Court you're on my list." I curled my fingers into the shape of a gun and made a firing gesture at them, complete with sound effects and a smirk.

  They didn't look happy.

  Looking rather bitter about the whole thing, they darted out into the snow where their car waited for them. The tires spun and kicked up snow before finally gaining traction as they fled. I watched as it disappeared from view and Julian arrived with a cup of coffee. I took a swig and noticed that it was just the way I liked it. The threat of diabetes quenched my taste buds.

  "This is just the way I like it, thank you."

  "Of course, Mrs. Tabitha told me, sir."

  "Of course she did," I said as I sat back and eyed the beverage. I realized that this was a sign, a gesture that she knew exactly what I wanted.

  I just didn't know if I was strong enough to say it out loud.

  Chapter 6

  I was expecting a cab, but the limo was a nice touch, I thought as I stepped into the bitter frost of St. Paul's December day. The sky was overcast, the sun should be high in the sky this time of day, but it was more than obscured. The fog blanket and bellowing tufts of snow threatened to choke the oxygen from the air around me. The sting of breathing didn't help as the moisture of my body burned in the frigid cold.

  The limo driver hustled to the back door of the car to open it for me, half sliding before he caught himself on the door handle. It was amusing, but not enough for me to make a scene about it. I had too much on my mind for that. Namely of which was my daughter, Angelica.

  Once seated in the warmth of the leather, heated seats I pulled my wallet from my breast pocket and retrieved the far outdated photo of her. She was five years old in this picture, too young to understand why I was away all of the time, but old enough to recognize it just the same. She would be twenty two years old now, but I had no idea what she looked like; living in the Realms complicated matters quite a bit. I imagined she looked somewhere between fifteen and twenty if the effects of the Realms had any bearing on her physical appearance.

  I often wondered if I would recognize her if I found her. I doubted it, though she might recognize me. I thought back to the times when she would rub a gentle hand over my bald head, laughing delightfully as she did. She had been a late in life child, and the stress of life had already aged me beyond my years, even then. If not for the magic of The Realms I imagine I would look beyond my years now.

  There was a gentle glide as the limo hit ice and slid slightly in the road. I wasn't worried about dying in a car crash, though. I had survived much worse. The curse of penance, slavery, servitude to a dark master, it protected me in some kind of hellish way.

  My master called himself The Raven. He was a character, bound by some displaced sense of honor. He had a sense of humor that would make a sailor blush, but not just in the perversions of his mind. It was everything. He really did think that the world revolved around him, like he was a god.

  Everyone knew it, too.

  I pocketed the photograph and looked out of the tinted window. The building's overhangs poured icicles almost two feet in length, making the outside look like an exposed cavern, with clear stalactites nosing their way down like fangs ready to indulge on the flesh of men.

  I shook my head at the thought. Damned vampires haunted every facet of my mind now. I longed for escape.

  Tabitha had presented an interesting solution.

  Did I trust her? Partially; in all my years of service she seemed like the only one in the court who could be trusted, her yes was yes, her no was no. Micah Le Corbeau, otherwise known as the Raven was a liar and a thief. I believed it was a trait that followed him from his human life.

  Very few spoke out against him in the Realms, yet it seemed that when they did, I was the one left to carry the emotional baggage. I wondered if he could feel that burden on my mind, through our blood bond. I was relieved to feel that bond waver lately due to the long time that had passed since he last fed from me.

  The limo skidded to a stop in front of my apartment and I opened my own door before the driver could make it to me. I was a man, I opened my own doors; closed them too.

  "Thanks," I said to the driver, too deep in my own thoughts to bother hearing his reply.

  The warmth of the building welcomed me, but there was still a chill in my heart as I climbed the stairs to my apartment. The entire building was silent. I mostly lived amongst the elderly, the type who hid away from the world. It was easy to get lost in this world, and they did a good job of it.

  If only I could hide.

  I opened the door to my apartment and stepped in, welcomed by daylight penetrating the bay window near my desk. I stepped over to the phone and picked it up, taking the receiver off the hook and setting it on the desk. I could hear the dial tone turn into a busy signal as I stepped over to the couch in the living room. That drone faded as my eyes fluttered, both from the cold and the tired body that housed them.

  I sat and removed my shoes, jacket, and weapon. I stripped down to something more comfortable and sprawled out on the couch. I refused to buy a bed. I didn't need comforts such as that. I pulled the pillow under my head and wrapped my body in the cocoon of a warm blanket.

  Did I fear the nightmares?

  Of course, but fear stole your life away if you ran from them. I aimed to run at them headlong. I owned my sins, I owned my failures. I owned the terror that threatened my weakened heart.

  But, sometimes I owned a sleep undisturbed by life.

  I just hoped that this was one of them.

  Chapter 7

  Twilight, it has been the most dreadful time of the day for me the last twenty years. The negative connotations of it bled directly into what happened with my wife. It was twilight when I arrived home. It was twilight when the battle raged and I slew my wife, my love. It was twilight when I swaddled my young child as the blood from her mother's body drenched my hands, my mind in a daze barely recognizing what had happened.

  It was twilight when they came for me.

  It was much too simple for them to overtake me, like some kind of child helpless as he reached for his mother's arms. I had no idea what was to happen. Even if I did I would have been powerless to do anything about it. I had blood on my hands, her blood and their blood.

  Le Corbeau had his say in the matter. As the leader of the Raven Court of vampires he sentenced me to expulsion, only to later retrieve his prize; me, his personal killer. His manic nature as a vile creature of the night has only grown worse since then. Now he pronounces himself to be called the Raven, it is more than a loose translation of his name into English, it is a position he carries above all others. The entire Realms bow before him, except for the opposition. They seem to cower to no one, unless it is at the barrel of my gun. Part of my curse was to tear the life from whoever tried to
kill me before I expired.

  It sounded magical, but it wasn't.

  It's a damned curse much too condemnable for a lay criminal.

  Her death was the only one that I regret. My poor Natalie did not deserve what happened to her. Neither by fang nor later by the silver that poisoned her already tainted blood. Perhaps I deserved this, I thought to myself for so long as my child was reared under the protection of demons not worthy of ruling hell.

  Her voice grew distant over the years. It was only on her birthday that I was granted access to hear the sweet child whom I loved so much. It wavered over the static filled phone lines as the signal weakened and distorted when it passed through the Realms into the "real" world. For those few moments I was redeemed. Then with the sound of a click and no whisper of a goodbye, she would be taken from me until her next birthday.

  Time did not make the heart grow fonder, it made the heart bleed, weep, and refrain from love altogether of any kind.

  I sat on the couch and nuzzled the barrel of my .38 to my temple and willed my finger to squeeze the trigger. Come on, dammit. It's so easy to do when it is pointed at those God forsaken hellions! Tears welled in my eyes. I knew I was defeated before I drew my next breath. The Raven, Le Corbeau, knew he had my balls in a vise before I even realized that my salvation would be my greatest fall.

  I spun the cylinder and aimed towards the mirror across the room for me. My eyes lined with the sights and focused on the man reflected back at me. The coward too afraid to do what was necessary. Instead he aged; the lines of his face grew deeper with the worry of servitude, with the anguish of a man ashamed of his own actions, his own inaction.

  Did I truly believe that she was safe? I glared, seeking the answer behind the pale blue eyes of the man that I used to know.

  Did I truly believe that hell was suitable for a child? That was where I had condemned her. Was death not more merciful of a fate than growing under the guise of falsehood? The last time we spoke she called me Alexander instead of father, instead of daddy. I knew then that I had lost her.