“I got one on my stomach too, if you can check it out,” I requested, as I walked into the kitchen to get more rags to soak up the blood.
I took off my layers of shirts, rolled them in one big ball, and threw the cotton mess onto the loveseat.
Reg put on a pair of latex gloves, and said, “That doesn’t look too good from the start.” He poured some antiseptic on the rag and dabbed at the wound. He cleaned the blood away and stared intently at my belly. “Think you might be lucky, stitch wise, on this one too. You should probably avoid anything athletic for a week or two or it might rip open again. Tell you what, I’ll take another look at it tomorrow, but I don’t think you need sewn up tonight.”
Reg treated the wounds with some antiseptic, applied the gauze and medical tape to the gashes as he sipped on his glass of whiskey. I told him about the fight with a Manticore, the demon shifter, the demonic box, the magic mist and the murder from earlier today. I grabbed his empty glass from his hand. “Refill?”
Reg put his hands up. “I think I should get home. Ronald’s going to throw a fit if I come home late and drunk again. Ha ha.” Reginald finished with his signature booming laugh.
“You know I’m going to smack your punk ass son in the mouth one night, right?”
“Man, don’t do that. That’s all I need to have you two going at it more than you already do. I know you think he’s a punk, but he does help me out a lot.”
I hadn’t had the heart to tell Reg that I’d overheard his son talking about him. Word to the wise, if you live near a wizard, whisper softly. I’d heard Ronald talking on the phone about how he wished that Reginald would just die already so he could get his inheritance and be done with taking care of his father. I’d almost kicked down the door and beaten his ass on the spot.
“I guess. I just think he should be more appreciative of you, like you are with him. Letting him live here for free and everything. Letting him use your car. You should get back out on the scene with the ladies and leave his ass behind. You ever think about getting back out there?”
Reg’s face twisted, considering the question. “Think about it. Sure do. But what do I have to offer? Hey, you want to come take care of me and help me get around.”
“Don’t think like that. Who cares about that shit? I help you here and there and I don’t care because I get to hang out with you. I’m sure there’s some classy women out there that feel the same.”
Reg said, “Yeah, you do think like a girl. Ha ha.” He always had a knack for breaking emotional tension.
“Think about it, my friend. You deserve it,” I told him.
“I get your point, young blood, but I got to get going now. Can you help me get back?”
“Of course.” I helped Reg get around the stupid divide between our two houses. We had to dip down on the steps and then I pushed the chair back up onto his porch. I went back inside and collapsed on the couch.
What a day!
I tried to process all the clues in my head. My conclusion was that the demons of the Red Cavern had been exerting control over the McNights, Ruth Westerhouse and Darren Dangbergh. I realized Darren was the shifter I’d battled this morning, which seemed like a week ago.
I felt empty inside. I’d let down the people of Pittsburgh, the Celtic Gods and my mother. I knew there’d be days like this. I just didn’t know they would hurt so much.
There was one thing that would help me understand everything better. I looked at the magical case on my coffee table and didn’t have the guts to open it. Not yet, at least. I really wanted Alayna to be there in case anything went wrong.
I drifted off, hoping tomorrow would be a better day.
Chapter 12
I WOKE UP TO SIX UNREAD text messages from Gretchen Meyer and looked at the first one.
It shattered my heart to read that. The guardian of Pittsburgh had failed. Again.
I called her and put the phone next to my face. Gretchen’s voice came through the other end, scratchy and tired, “Merlino.” She had never called me by my last name.
“Yes.”
“Nineteen more shifter murders last night. Grab an energy bar and get your ass out to the curb. I’m waiting.”
I hung up and looked out the window at Gretchen’s Cherokee parked along the restricted yellow curb. I threw some clothes on and went to run out the front door when the box caught my eye. It sat so innocently on the coffee table, but I knew otherwise.
I lugged it into the attic, which was a major chore, and hid it under the loose floorboards. I closed the semi-secret ceiling door on my way out. I ignored Gretchen’s honking and walked outside. Reginald was sitting outside on his porch so I went over and shook his hand.
“What kind of stuff are you getting into today, Mike?” he asked excitedly.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Unfortunately, a lot more of the same from yesterday. I don’t really have time to ta...”
Gretchen laid on the horn. I shot her the bird and turned back to Reginald. “I’ll have to catch up with you later tonight. I’ll knock if I don’t get back too late. We’ll have lots more to talk about by then I’m sure.”
“Sounds good, young buck. Let’s make momma proud now.”
I swallowed the developing lump in my throat, fought back tears, and shook his hand again. Reginald regularly talked to me about my mom. Next to Alayna, he was probably my best friend. My duties kept me so busy that a social life was nearly impossible, let alone a girlfriend.
I crossed the street, dodging the early morning traffic, and jumped into Gretchen’s car. She looked worse than she had sounded on the phone earlier.
“Do you know any details on this one?” I asked.
She almost pulled out into a green Chevy Impala but jammed on the breaks at the last second. I tugged my seatbelt to make sure it was secured. She spoke in a gruff tone, “Extremely similar to yesterday, but this one ramps it up a bit.”
“How so?” I pressed the button to crack the window and get some of that fresh October air into the vehicle.
“There were nineteen shifter murders early in the morning between about six and seven o’clock. We’re talking CEOs of big companies and high-profile people. They all resemble yesterday, although a few involved normal working people. Man in suit suddenly turns into a...a...” she fumbled for the word.
“A demonic creature.” I tried to help her out without going into great detail.
She gave me a slight nod of thanks. “Some of them, yes. But this time, there were werewolves, one that looked like a boar with tusks and a werelion. A goddamn werelion is running the streets of Pittsburgh. Sorry for the language.”
This certainly ramped things up and made me feel worthless that I hadn’t prevented it. The Gods had warned me that there would be casualties along the way, and it was just part of being a hero, but the advice wasn’t helping now. “No. That is pretty disturbing.”
Gretchen pulled down the visor mirror and checked her makeup as she ran a red light. “That’s not even the most disturbing part.”
I pressed the imaginary brake and pushed my back against the seat. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”
She mercifully flipped the visor up and focused on the road. “Six of the crime scenes had ‘G20’ written in blood on the floor.”
“G20? Like the world leader conference?” I already knew the answer as soon as the question slipped from my lips.
She nodded and cut off a local cop car. She waved at the male officer as if he had let her in. “The one and only. And this is the one that the leaders do attend, not like the U.N. meetings where they sometimes only send representatives.”
I had almost forgotten about the conference being held in Pittsburgh. “When is that date on that?”
“November first.”
That was coming right down the pike. I had been getting so fired up for the Lunar Eclipse on Halloween and Samhain that I had completely forgotten about the G20 Inter
national Summit. “I guess we need to figure this out quick. Have you been able to find anything interesting at any of the scenes?”
She bit her lip and spoke with a closed mouth. “I hate to say it, but this might be more up your alley, than mine.” She mumbled but I could make out her words.
I smirked. “What? You mean Lieutenant Meyer, Head of the Occult Division of the Pittsburgh Police...”
She didn’t give me a chance to finish my self-righteous spiel. “Save it, jackass. What do you know?”
“I ran into our good friend Ruth Westerhouse at the bar last night.” I lied. Sort of. Only for the greater good of all. I tapped my fingers against the window and stopped quickly. I had a few nervous tells that I needed to work on.
“Interesting.”
I shoved my hand under my thigh to keep it still. “To say the least. We had a few beverages and she opened up a little. She revealed that the McNights might be involved in this.” I had to be careful how much information I shared. I could get paid a lot more if I delivered a slam-dunk case, instead of just a few clues for Gretchen and the Pittsburgh Police to go on. “What do you know about them?”
She paused for a few moments as if she were debating how much to share with me. Touché. She finally said, “A few members of the family have been in a dustup here and there over the years, but nothing substantial. We do have several accusations of them being devil worshippers. Not sure if it’s just from owning that strange bowling alley, but none of the accusations had any meat. You don’t go nosing around a family like that unless you have all your ducks in a row.”
“I hear you on that.” That was why I had no plans of ambushing anyone from the McNight family to try to get information. I would be the one to end up in jail.
We came to an abrupt stop at a red light and she turned to me. “What do you guys in Magicville know about them?”
Magicville. I smiled. If only Gretchen got a peek at the wonderful sights I had seen in the Deep Burrow. If she had seen Alayna riding the Pegasus to the Otherworld of the Gods, it would have blown her mind. Hell, it had nearly caused my brain to combust. I saved the supernatural stories and answered her question, “We’ve heard that they may or may not run a sex ring with some of the other highfalutin members of Pittsburgh.” I used the info Ruth had supplied me with and hoped Gretchen could confirm it.
“Holy shit. That would explain why most of these shifters are all in top positions in their fields. But how would that connect to the G20?” Gretchen didn’t swear often, which indicated to me that she was scared.
I pulled my hand out from under my leg and shook it around to get the blood flowing again. “I don’t know that yet. It also shows randomness with some of the people being in menial jobs. Maybe they can’t get to the world leaders themselves, but what about the people working security? I think those people need to fall under heavy scrutiny.”
“So how would we know if they are one of those shifters? How can you tell?” Gretchen pulled onto an off-ramp.
“That’s just it. It would be really hard to detect.” I hadn’t been paying close attention, but I realized Gretchen had just driven around like a maniac to take a longer route to get to Aspinwall.
“We’re screwed. That’s what you’re saying?”
I don’t think she wanted me to tell the truth. “Not exactly. If we figure this out before November 1st, we can possibly stop the entire thing before it starts. With that said, it won’t be gentle.”
She hooked a quick right into a communal parking lot of businesses. “We have to make a stop before we visit these gruesome scenes. Don’t eat that power bar if you brought one.” We stopped at Don’s Doughnuts. She put the vehicle in park, looked at me, and removed the keys from the ignition. “You can stay in the car if you want.”
“What are you doing?”
“I just need to give something to my daughter.” She slammed the door closed.
Daughter? I didn’t know she had a daughter. Why had she been setting this up like a shady drug deal? I got out of the car and met her at the rear of the vehicle.
Chapter 13
I SAID, “YOU NEVER mentioned a daughter. Not even one word or sentence in passing conversation.”
“It never came up.”
“I’m pretty sure I asked you if you had kids one time and you changed the subject. I told you about my mom and dad when you asked me.” I hadn’t told her about my cancer. I hadn’t spoken to too many people outside the group about it. She knew that my mother had died when I was ten and my father was in prison for selling drugs.
She leaned back onto the rear of her vehicle and closed her eyes. “Alright, Merlino, I have a daughter. Happy?”
I sat on the back bumper for about one second until Gretchen swatted me on the shoulder to get up. I had a feeling my weight might be too much for the rusty bumper. “Why would I be happy? Oh, and if you think that you’re annoying me with Merlino, I like it. So you’re married?”
She exhaled audibly through her nose. “I am.”
I smiled. “What’s his name?”
She shook her head. “Her name is Margaret. We call her Metmet.”
“Why do you call her that?” I wanted to know.
She pulled at the collar of her uniform, uncomfortable with the line of questioning. “That’s what our daughter called her when she was little. The simpler days.”
Someone pulled up slowly in a red Mazda Miata. Gretchen ran over to the driver’s side window of the car. She pulled something out of her purse and held it inside the window. Gretchen said, “Just use this one. If they give you any problems, tell them to call me directly.”
“All right, Mom. I have to go. I‘m already late for the appointment.”
I couldn’t get a good look at her daughter except to see that she was Japanese if I wasn’t mistaken. The sun’s golden rays highlighted her silver eyebrow ring and matching earrings, but I couldn’t really make out any other distinguishing features.
The Miata pulled away and Gretchen returned. I said, “Your daughter’s Asian.” It sounded more like a question, a bad question, judging from Gretchen’s reddening face.
She spoke in a defensive tone. “Yes, your eyes are working. She’s Japanese. Adopted. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Not at all. She’s cute. She have a boyfriend?” I wanted to have a little fun.
In one motion, she reached out, grabbed my left nipple and twisted. Motherfu... I clenched my teeth. “Are you serious right now?” So much for a little fun. Prude.
“Let me tell you a few things about courtesy. Partners don’t touch members of their partner’s family. Got it?”
“I understand the concept, but what is this partner talk? You’ve never considered me to be close to your equal. Is this the set up to some joke?”
She jammed a finger in my face. “You know I don’t joke a lot and well, if there’s one thing I hold closer than anything, it’s my daughter. You mess with her. Look me in the eyes.”
“Are you sure?” Most Normals didn’t want to look a wizard in the eyes.
She grabbed both my cheeks with one hand and made me look like a guppy. She looked dead into my pupils and didn’t waver. “You mess with her and I will kill you. Understand?”
“I do.” I gurgled like a fish as I nodded.
She released her hawkish grip and we got back into the car. I tried to forget about our little dust up and focus on the task at hand. Why would these shifters want to crash the G20? Sure, they could kill a bunch of world leaders, but that doesn’t exactly destroy the world. If something happened to the President, the Vice-President stepped right in. Unless it’s an idea to start a blame game that eventually leads to World War III.
We arrived at the scene of a reported werelion attack. It was in the lobby of an office building in an industrial park and the troubled looks on the officers’ faces made me apprehensive. I’d seen some gnarly stuff in my twenty-three years on this planet so I wasn’t overly worried. I’d also been responsib
le for ending the life or an immortal killer, but nothing could have prepared anyone for the murder scene.
I walked up to the front of the crowd as the metallic smell of fresh blood got thicker by the step. I took a quick peek, threw up in my mouth, and swallowed the bitter, copper flavored spit-up. Backing away, the burning feeling slowly slid back down and churned in my belly, threatening to erupt again.
Hearing about the deaths and seeing the pictures were nothing compared to seeing the bodily destruction up close. If hearing about it shattered my heart, seeing these images picked up those broken pieces and tossed them into an incinerator. I imagined it compared to seeing a dead son or daughter.
And as the supernatural guardian of Pittsburgh, even though the victims were older than I was, these were my children. Dead and destroyed. Everything became more personal now. I couldn’t let this happen again. Not on my watch. What kind of creature could do this? I took a deep breath and went back to the front.
There were three victims within about ten feet of each other. The first was a man in a gray suit lying on his back. A perfect bite had been taken out of his upper arm and his throat had been ripped apart, scattering blood and scraps of body tissue on the gold speckled white floor.
A woman lay three feet from him on her side. She wore a light dress that was completely soaked in blood. I only recognized she was a woman from her large breasts. All the skin on her face and head, including her hair had been torn away, exposing ligaments and images that were going to give me nightmares. The werelion must’ve used its claws to perform a gruesome New Age scalping.
The third male victim lay on his face in a pool of blood. His intestines had been ripped out and dragged across the lobby. I had no urge to measure, but at least ten feet of this man’s bloody insides had been strewn across the floor.
Fighting away tears, I tried not to focus on the gruesome bits and instead concentrated on finding overlooked clues. The scene had already been swept well so I didn’t find anything to go on.
We left the lobby and got back into Gretchen’s car. Pissed off and determined to end these killings, I asked, “So who was the person before they shifted?”
Bloodline Awakened Supernatural Thriller Series: Books 1-3 Page 6
