God Touched - 01

by John Conroe

  She took another sip, while I processed that bit of information.

  “Once Lydia had calmed her down and promised to check on the cause of her worry, I was able to learn the whole rather sad tale.’ She continued. “Fairly tragic some might call it. Personally, I find it to be idiocy of a monumental level. It seems that some persons of influence prevailed upon Tatiana that the best method of protecting her beloved police officer, would be to drive him away. Make him believe she had fallen out of love with him. Preposterous, really. Only someone completely ignorant of vampire psychology would fall for that. I have since expressed my displeasure, rather forcibly with both Galina and Anton at this extremely inopportune action on their parts. But then Lydia comes home, reassures Tatiana and tells us of an encounter with something unheard of. Perhaps you could tell me its name, just in case I heard it wrong from Lydia?” she asked.

  I cleared my throat and said, “The Hellbourne called it a Damnedthing.”

  “And Hellbourne is your rather quaint term for one of the walking demons?” she asked.

  I frowned at her sardonic attitude, ready to speak, possibly my last words, but she waved her hand languidly and laughed.

  “Oh please do not think I am amusing myself at your expense, Mr. Gordon. I have nothing but admiration for you. I would have found you admirable for nothing other than your actions in Plasma last Friday. But you continue again and again to put yourself in harm’s way for Tatiana and Lydia. And then there are all the other fascinating details, like your improbable time and date of birth. And even the way the tragic death of your family corresponds to Tatiana’s own pivotal past. One might almost think you two were linked by fate. Your physiological response to vampire blood, at least Tatiana’s, is almost without precedent.”

  She looked down at her tea, releasing me from her gaze and I glanced around us to see if we were still going unnoticed. I almost missed it, but a short, rather rotund fellow who was walking by, turned slightly toward the street and I spotted a wyrm riding his shoulders.

  Glancing back at Senka showed me that she had still not looked up, so I took a quick chance and flicked my right hand in the wyrms direction. I have developed a technique I think of as the Aura whip. Imagining my aura to be tapered and coiled like a bull whip, I snap it at a demon or in this case a wyrm. It worked perfectly, neatly snapping the foul thing in half and instantly freeing the round guy from its grip. He began to straighten up from his hunched posture almost immediately.

  I turned back to Senka, only to find myself busted. Her eyes were bright with amazement and I had the uncomfortable feeling that she had seen everything.

  “Wonderful, exactly the kind of thing the girls have been going on and on about. To see your very special abilities in action, extraordinary,” She said.

  “Er, I have a sort of personal vow not to let any of them get away. Did you…were you able to actually see that?” I asked.

  “Oh yes, Christian. Do you mind if I call you Christian. I feel as if I know you already. The girls have done a remarkable job of describing you. But anyway, the answer is yes. I can see your aura and I could see the thing on the man’s shoulder. What do you call that one?” she asked.

  “Ah..I call those things wyrms…with a ‘Y’,” I answered.

  She nodded then continued.

  “You know I was so excited when Tatiana woke up, as you see, one of my abilities is to foresee people’s potential. And I’ve always known that Tatiana would achieve great things. But then Lydia told me that you were Tatiana’s match in potential. I could scarcely believe such a thing despite the enormous value I place on Lydia’s opinion. But that girl was right again. Ah Lydia. I consider her one of the best I’ve ever created. If I could clone that girl, I would make one of her for every day of the week!”

  I shuddered as I thought of dealing with seven more Lydias. She laughed at my response.

  “That is a rather intimidating thought, is it not?”

  “Well, Ma’am, it’s been all I could do to handle just the one.”

  “Oh yes, and you have been very put out with Lydia, have you not?” she asked.

  I frowned as I thought of how far I had gone in believing in Tatiana’s interest in me.

  “But wait, I thought Galina Turned Lydia?” I asked as my brain caught up with part of her comments.

  “Oh, she did….at my insistence, and I gave Lydia a little dose of my blood at the end of the process, as a boost. Galina doesn’t know that detail though.

  “So, you saw potential in Lydia and assured it came to fruition?” I asked.

  “Something like that. And now I have to agree with Lydia. You and Tatiana are a matched set. Complementary, but not identical. You balance each other; bring out the best traits in each other. This changes the dynamic completely.”

  “Er….what dynamic?”

  “Have you wondered why all the vampires treat Tatiana so differentially? Even us Elders. It’s because of what we believe she will grow into. At twenty-three she is the equal of vampires that are seven or even eight hundred years old. She’s changing and growing so rapidly that we can’t begin to predict her powers and abilities. But everyone has always based that on just her. Everyone is jockeying to have influence over her. Now you’re in the picture. Her mirror, the Yang to her Yin. And your influence over her is greatest of all. Can you see why Galina and Anton tried such a stupid attempt to get her to leave you? Like that would have worked! Not to mention the attempt on your life. Tatiana’s first true kill was to protect you. That little detail has been noticed.

  Your own abilities and potential are great and equally hard to predict. And that is just starting to be noticed. That vampire you threw across the room last night? Without touching? He hasn’t been a vampire since you did that. Reverted to human. Dr. Singh believes it to be only temporary, and I agree, but still. To completely remove a vampire’s powers with a flick of your hand. He was one of mine, by the way, and none of the other vampires other than Tatiana and Lydia and the Doctor know that detail. We’re keeping it our little secret.”

  She studied me.

  “And I notice a tiny little micro flinch whenever I mention Tatiana’s name. There it was again.” I continued to frown, very uncomfortable with her ability to read me.

  “And you continue to believe that Tatiana has, how was it phrased? Grown beyond you?”

  She watched my response and nodded. “Yes, I can see you do. What can I do to convince you?”

  “I suspect you can make me think anything you want with that little Jedi mind trick you have going on.” I said, waving at the people passing us blindly.

  Her eyes widened again and she smiled, revealing just a little bit of fang.

  “Oh, you are perceptive! Lydia was right again! Except about how you view yourself and Tatiana. Hmm.” she tapped her bottom lip thoughtfully.

  “Well, Christian, I need to be going. Things to do, people to correct. But it has been my very great pleasure to meet you and I will daresay that I hope to see you tomorrow night at Tatiana’s and your birthday party.”

  She again read my expression. “Oh please, you really must come. Tatiana will be crushed if you don’t. Ah yes, I know you don’t believe me, but what if the demon that escaped last night shows up? Who will protect her? My power doesn’t pierce demon cloaks.”

  I sighed in resignation. “I’ll be there.”

  “Excellent! Now I must be going.”

  A huge black BMW limo pulled up to the curb as if summoned by telepathy.

  “Ah, Ma’m? Have you ever heard of a Damnedthing before?” I asked before she left.

  “Yes Christian, I have. From what little I know they are elemental animal spirits tortured into obedience by demonkind. They are enormously powerful and quite insane. Can you describe it?” She stood up as she answered me.

  “Well, kind of like a cross between a very long legged Kodiak brown bear with a smushed in face and the Devil’s own Rottweiler. About a ton or so when solid, and fifteen or sixtee
n feet tall on his back legs. His aura is red, green and purple. And I think he projects his thoughts in pictures.”

  She was staring at me in outright astonishment.

  “Well, Christian, you have succeeded in surprising me today! Several times! How delightful. Your Damnedthing sounds like its base spirit is that of a short faced bear. They were the largest of the bears to walk our planet and they died out over ten thousand years ago. So he’s a very old being as well. How such a creature landed in the hands of the demons is a troubling question, and now it is freely roaming about. Be careful, Christian. I would be very put out if you let anything happen to yourself. Goodbye.” And she slipped away through the tables and people like a wraith. A wraith with a really great tush.

  Chapter 15

  Determined to accomplish at least one of my goals, I headed into the park and found a table in the warm October sun, near the little kid’s playground, which was busy. I sat, drank my coffee and ate my bear claw, while staring off into the autumn dressed maple and elm trees that edged the playground. A group of nannies and Au pares were glancing in my direction, maybe nervous to have a potentially dangerous man near their charges. I took off my jacket so that my badge, cuff case and gun showed, figuring it would reassure them, then resumed my thoughts.

  Senka was very convincing, but then so had Lydia been. I took a bite of bear claw and chewed while thinking the whole thing through. Why would they lie? What reason would they have to want me near Tatiana? I was just working through this line of inquiry when something tugged at my attention. A burst of wind had blown up a swirling column of colorful leaves among the trees.

  Then I realized that there was no wind, at least near me or anywhere else that I could see. I looked closer and noticed that the leaves on the trees were all pushed away from each other, like a large object, about the size of a draft horse, was in the middle of them.

  An image flashed through my mind, of a small child running toward a man sitting at a picnic table with his back to the child. The child was chasing a ball and the man was wearing the same clothes as I was. I whipped around and found a sturdy little toddler running in my general direction, his feet were inadvertently kicking the ball every time he went to pick it up and he was in danger of heading into the trees where the strange wind had been blowing. I was over to him and stopping the ball before I could think and the young au pare chasing him came to a sudden stop at my motion. Too quick. I gotta work on keeping to a slower speed around people, but I couldn’t chance him heading into the wooded area and encountering what I suspected lurked there.

  The girl came up to me to retrieve her charge, her face lighting up in a big smile. She was really quite pretty and as she bent over to collect the young boy, her shirt billowed open in a way that invited my eyes to follow. When she looked up and kept smiling, I realized the view had not been an accident. Uh oh! I was wearing sunglasses and so I took the next step to scare her off, by removing them.

  Taking off your sunglasses to show your eyes is a friendly gesture, unless you are possessed of violet eyes. Then, it has been my experience, that people beat a hasty retreat. She didn’t. In fact, her face flushed and she gulped and smiled even more, if possible. What the hell! When I need to scare someone away to safety, of course, it somehow backfires.

  I took the direct approach.

  “Ah Miss, there is a dangerous felon loose around here. You and your friends might want to move to a different part of the park, at least until we catch him.” I lied.

  Her eyes rounded with astonishment. “Oh, then I am very glad that you are here to protect us.” Her accent was Slavic. She wasn’t acting very alarmed, even though she clutched my arm. Gently, I disengaged her grip and tried again. “Well, I’ll keep my eye on all of you, but I really need you to go back over with the others.”

  “As long as you keep an eye on me, then okay.” Reluctantly, she headed back to the group of caretakers, all of whom were watching our byplay avidly. I settled back at the table only to get another vision. This one was of two bears doing the wild thing.

  I spoke softly to the space in the woods.

  “Ah Sparky, what was that about?” This time I got a vision of the girl clutching my arm and then the horny bears in the woods again.

  “Ah, no, she’s not my mate,” I guessed. This time all I got was a sense of puzzlement.

  “Well she is technically a potential mate and it does appear that for some reason she is interested, but I can’t.” Another puzzled thought.

  “Well, the demons would kill her if I…er…took her as my ah mate.” I pictured several of the Hellbourne I had banished. An angry woof sounded, and the trees suddenly shook two stories up.

  “Whoa, there Sparky, they’re not around now, but they would kill her if I went near her.”

  It didn’t take a UN interpreter to realize that he carried a really big grudge for the Hellbourne. Another flash of thought came, this time of two rocks striking each other and sparking combined with a negative feeling. That one took a second to figure out.

  “Oh, you don’t like me calling you Sparky?” Agreement.

  “Well what do I call you?” Puzzlement this time.

  I thought of the Mohawk word for bear, which made up about one quarter of my entire Mohawk vocabulary.

  “How about Okwari?” I asked.

  After a moment, a feeling of agreement came.

  “Okay, Okwari it is.”

  Pronounced correctly, it sounds like oh-kwah-lee.

  A flash of me and Lydia arguing and then a quick flash of me protecting her from danger.

  “Ah, that’s Lydia. She’s my friend. Sometimes we argue, but we will always protect each other. It’s what friends do.”

  I got an image of myself tearing off Okwari’s hell collar. Then he woofed again, but softer and the leaves swirled up and up, and then the wind was gone. I watched the floating leaves return to earth. All feeling of his presence had disappeared.

  I spent the rest of the morning soaking up the sun, which felt amazing after all the night hours I had been logging. I grabbed lunch at a pizza joint, then drove to One Police Plaza.

  Roma’s squad was housed in a sublevel under the Special Operations Headquarters. There were no signs indicating ‘Special Situations’, just a block of offices behind a door numbered 2L117. A young blonde receptionist looked up when I came through after following the directions I had been given by the Desk sergeant upstairs. She gave me her full attention and asked, “May I help you?”

  “Ah, I’m looking for Inspector Roma?”

  “And you are?”

  “Chris Gordon. I have an appointment.”

  She nodded and finally smiled, “Yes, we’ve been expecting you, Officer Gordon. You can hang your jacket on the coat rack and I’ll just tell the Inspector that you’re here. I’m Olivia by the way.”

  “Ah, nice to meet you Olivia, please call me Chris.” I hung up my jacket and turned back to find a seat in the tiny waiting area. Olivia was speaking into the phone while continuing to watch me. She smiled again as she hung up. “He’ll be with you shortly. Can I get you some coffee?”

  “Ah, coffee would be great.”

  “How do you take it?”

  “Black, please”

  She got up and moved to another door. Early twenties, dark rimmed librarian glasses, hair pulled back, black skirt and a blue blouse. Pretty, in a businesslike kind of way. She filled a cup from the machine in the little nook behind the door.

  “Here you go, Chris.” Another big smile as she handed me the cup, making eye contact the whole time. “Thanks.” I was a little flustered by the friendly reception. I hadn’t been sure what kind of greeting I would get when I met with Roma again, but so far so good. Olivia moved back to the center of her kingdom and proceeded to work at her computer.

  I settled back and looked around. Pretty bland decorations. The furniture was corporate and functional, the walls had some framed posters of Special Ops units and were painted an off white col
or. From time to time my peripheral vision showed Olivia checking on me. The coffee was good, as most cop coffee is.

  The outer door opened and Aikens, Sommers and Velasquez came in and headed toward the inner door next to Olivia’s desk. Gina looked over and noticed me. “Hi Chris, how ya doing?”

  “Hi Gina, hi Steve, Chet. I’m fine,” I answered.

  She nodded and said. “We’ll each be seeing you later, but right now we have to follow up on some stuff.”

  “Hey, Olivia? How come Gordon gets coffee? I never get coffee.” Aikens complained after he spotted the mug in my hand.

  “That’s because he’s polite, unlike you. You pretty much kissed any chance of coffee goodbye when you made the comment the other day.” she answered primly.

  “Yo, I was just complimenting you, that’s all, baby. You know I didn’t mean anything nasty or nothing.”

  She just glared at him, while Sommers laughed. Then all three went out the door, Aikens arguing with Sommers, while Velasquez glanced back once.

  “More coffee Chris?”

  “Ah, no thanks. Is there a place I can wash this mug?” I asked

  “Oh, I’ll take it.”

  I walked it over to her and she smiled as she replaced it in the coffee nook.

  After five more minutes, the inner door opened and Roma beckoned me to him.

  He led me through the inner door and I stepped into the center of the Special Situations domain. We had walked into a conference room with a long black table, four chairs per side and one at its head. A very large flat screen monitor dominated the end of the room nearest me, and one of the seats at the table was equipped with a wireless keyboard and mouse. The walls on either side were glass and looked into individual offices. The first office on the right side was actually about two offices in size and looked more laboratory and workshop than office. Chet Aikens was ensconced in the middle of a battery of monitors, computers, keyboards and had an electronics workbench at one end of the space. A tall bookshelf against the far wall of his space was stuffed with books, some looking newly published, and others like they were hand drawn by monks in the Dark Ages. Steve Sommers was seated at his desk in the small amount of remaining space, with a gunsmith’s workbench and cartridge reloading machine against his wall. A high-grade gun safe took up the corner.