Demon's Play

by David McBride

  I slumped back into my chair, relaxing slightly at her less antagonistic tone. “You heard about the zombies in the human sector?”

  Selena and Clara nodded in unison. Clara spoke, a barely audible whisper, “We had hoped it was an isolated incident.”

  “So did I,” I said. “But that doesn’t appear to be the case. Simon says he’s dealt with this rogue before, and I could use the help. Will you allow him entrance?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Goldman,” Selena said without hesitation. “But now I am doubly sure that he should not be here. Sending a vampire Inquisitor against a rogue necromancer is like sending a kitten to fight off a rabid dog.” Simon sat straighter in his chair, bristling at the insult. “My decision stands. If they wish to send someone let them send someone else.” She stood and Clara followed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a party to attend to.”

  I stood quickly while Simon remained seated, giving Selena a social snub that seemed childish given the circumstances. As Selena made her way to the door my mind raced. “Wait!” I called after her. It echoed in the spacious room. She stopped and half-turned to me, irritation plain on her lovely face. “What if I made this a personal request?”

  Selena turned to face me, tilting her head slightly as if I were a dog who had just done an interesting trick. “What do you mean?”

  Simon was suddenly next to me, moving from his seat to my side faster than my eye could track. “What are you doing?” he hissed in my ear.

  “A favor,” I said to Selena, ignoring Simon. He gripped my arm, but I continued. “I know that it wounds your pride that I played a role in Ezekiel’s death, that it wasn’t only by your hand that his rebellion was crushed.” Her eyes lit to the shade of molten gold. I soldiered on. “Allow Simon to stay a week and we’ll be even.”

  “Even?” she asked, looking to Simon for translation.

  “Tabula Rasa,” he said, using the old Latin phrase that meant blank slate.

  “You would rid yourself of my debt so cheaply?” She looked from me to Simon and then back. “And for this one? Perhaps the Inquisition is in a worse position than I imagined. Very well, he has one week.” She turned and strode out of the room with the grace of a princess, Clara a few steps behind her.

  “That was stupid,” Simon whispered to me.

  “You’re welcome.”

  10

  I followed Simon’s silver BMW through the bustling streets of the Second City. The moon hung full and fat in the sky bathing the streets in silvered light. Nights like this were traditionally the time of werewolves, and I could see without my Second Sight that they were taking full advantage of this cloudless night. Men and women walked in small groups, faces turned up to the sky in a kind of awestruck wonder. Those who weren’t of the lycanthropic persuasion tended to give them a little extra room. The wolves weren’t bound by the cycle of the moon like the old stories said, but it still had some strange power over them. On nights of the full moon werewolves were more unpredictable than usual, and if one of them let the beast roam too close to the surface then the effect was doubly so.

  As we turned left at an intersection we had to wait for a group of young wolves who had decided that this spot in the road was perfect for stargazing. One of the drivers ahead of us yelled something at them, and they moved grudgingly to the other side of the street. With Eric, their pack leader and alpha male, out of town I was starting to get nervous. The lycanthropes needed a strong hand to keep them in line at the best of times, during a full moon things could get ugly fast. Robert, the new enforcer I had met at Howlerz was undoubtedly tough, but I wondered if he would bother to keep his people in check. He seemed like the type to run around baying at the moon, himself. And he was obviously a species supremacist, and that meant that anyone who wasn’t a wolf was a second-class citizen. I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind and concentrated on catching up to the taillights of the BMW that were quickly receding from view.

  A minute later we passed the threshold of the Second City and entered the surrounding merge. We pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex not unlike the one that Paulo had lived in. I tried to suppress the image of two ghouls lunging for me, razor teeth seeking my flesh.

  Unlike Paulo’s place, though, this complex was not rated for humans. It was specifically for vampires, tailored to their needs with blackout curtains over the windows and a top of the line fire suppression system. Nothing was worse for young vampires than a fire during the daytime. Fleeing the fire would just lead to immolation once sunlight touched their skin.

  Larry, my friend and a uniquely curious specimen, wasn’t a young vampire like most of the other occupants of the complex. Most of them chose to stay away from Selena’s mansion, to spread their fangs and fly, so to speak. A newly created vampire needed to be kept close for at least a year according to the vampiric laws. After they had proved they wouldn’t go around snacking on old ladies and torturing puppies they were free to take up residence wherever they wanted. The older ones generally gravitated back to their masters after some time of testing the bounds of their freedom.

  “So you trust this Larry person?” Simon asked as I exited my car.

  I pulled a cooler from my trunk, tucked it under my arm, and closed the Honda back up. “Yes. I’d offer for you to stay at my place, but my house isn’t exactly designed to be light-tight. I’m sure Larry won’t mind.” Simon eyed me skeptically. The last part was as much to reassure myself as to put Simon’s mind at ease. Larry was a friend, but asking him to invite an Inquisitor he didn’t know into his home was a big favor to ask. I hoped the blood I carried in my cooler would help smooth over any misgivings Larry might have about the situation.

  “So what was that between you and Selena?” I asked casually, fishing for information.

  He did his best to look relaxed as he answered, but I saw the slight tensing of his neck and shoulders, the decidedly unvampire-like way his right shoe scuffed the ground as he came down on some loose gravel. Small signs, sure, but the anger and frustration were there nonetheless. “It’s a long story,” he said.

  “Give me the short version.”

  He glared at me for a moment and then sighed, a short pained exhalation. “We were together for a while. It ended badly. Happy?”

  “With a front row to a vamp soap-opera how could I not be?” I said with a smirk. But I decided to let it drop. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and it wasn’t any of my business. As long as their relationship didn’t interfere with our mission any more than it already had I was more than happy to not know the whole story.

  We walked up the flight of stairs to Larry’s apartment. In the hallway about three doors down from Larry, a man and woman clung to each other in a fierce embrace. They were too busy making out to even notice me and Simon walking past them. The girl stared with glassy eyes at the ceiling as the man sucked on her neck, small beads of crimson rolling down to her collarbone. I could feel the waves of power ebbing out of them as the blood sharing drained them. They were both vampires and didn’t get any actual nourishment from this, but for most vamps this was better than regular sex. The aromas of sweat and blood mingled and filled the narrow corridor.

  “Unbelievable,” Simon muttered as he walked past.

  The spell apparently broken, the man broke the embrace and looked over to us. “Hey man,” he said, looking at Simon. “You want a taste?” The man’s eyes were as unfocused as the girl’s. He ran a finger down the side of her throat where two bright-red holes wept blood, slathered some onto his finger and proceeded to lick it clean. The girl shivered as she watched him, her tongue darting across her lips. Glassy eyes slowly focused on us.

  I knocked on Larry’s door and tried to ignore them. The girl saw the look of distaste that was plastered across Simon’s features and turned her attention to me. She sniffed the air, trying to discern my scent from the others that hung in the hallway. A curious look crossed her face, as if she were trying to figure out a complicated math
problem, and she looked down at the floor, pulling the man in front of her slightly to hide her from sight. The pair was oblivious to our titles, and my scent would have marked me as a living para, so why did she look scared all of a sudden?

  “Savages,” Simon murmured.

  The door opened a few inches with Larry peering through the small space at us. He saw me and opened it wider. “Hey Frank.”

  “Hey Larry. Can we come in?” I looked back at the couple down the hall. The man was trying to push closer to her, but she didn’t seem to be in the mood anymore.

  “Yeah, sure,” he said, and looked at Simon with undisguised suspicion. As we entered, Larry slid past us into the hall. “Hey, Romeo and Juliet,” he said to the lovers down the hall. “Can’t you see we got company? Get inside and repent your sins you heathens!” The man responded, but I couldn’t make out the words. “Guests to my house are much too refined to accept such an offer, Jeffrey, though I’m sure they appreciated it.” He looked at Simon’s face. “Or maybe not,” he mumbled. “Just try to keep your escapades to a dull roar, okay?” He closed the door and walked in. Looking at me, he said, “So what do I owe the honor of you gracing me with not only your presence, but a guest as well?”

  I made introductions quickly, Simon nodded and Larry gave a mock salute with two fingers when I told him Simon was an Inquisitor. Larry was a unique vampire, but Simon was polite enough not to point out the obvious. While vampires in general were near their peak physically, Larry looked as if he had one foot in the grave. A curse placed on him long ago had rendered him in a state of near constant starvation. The only temporary cure was to drink the blood of a para who gave it willingly. This was an effective curse in times past, but with government regulated blood banks now mandatory in every city it was more of an inconvenience. Para blood of willing donors was always on tap, but expensive as sin. Two pints of it was stashed in my cooler. He leaned against the wall, a baggy long-sleeve t-shirt covering his gaunt frame, and sunglasses covering his sunken eyes. His straw-like hair was thin and pulled back in a tail that fell between his shoulders. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his oversized jeans and walked past us into the living room.

  “Gee Frank, you sure do smell pretty,” he said as he tossed himself onto the couch across from the TV.

  Simon came up next to me quickly and stuck his nose right next to my face. “What the hell are you doing?” I said, trying to distance myself from him. He closed the gap and grabbed me by my coat, dragging me closer and bringing a fistful of the material to his nose. “Simon, what the hell’s your problem?”

  “Damn,” he grumbled. “How did I miss that?” He let me go. I stumbled away and went to sit on the chair that sat across from the couch, setting the cooler down next to me. “Clara marked you.”

  Larry whistled his approval. “You sure do keep nice company, Frank.” Simon glowered at him.

  “What do you mean she marked me?” I asked. “She’s not a dog; she didn’t spray my pant leg or anything.”

  “I would’ve paid to see that,” Larry chimed in.

  “What happened when we left Selena’s?” he asked.

  I ran through events in my mind. After getting Selena’s grudging approval for Simon to stay we had gone to leave. On our way out Clara had stopped me at the door. Simon was already on the way to his car, his back to us. She interposed herself between me and the doorway. I hadn’t heard her coming, or seen anything more than a blur as she moved past me.

  “Is there something wrong?” I had asked.

  She moved closer to me, close enough that I could smell the faint aroma of apples on her. “No.” Every now and then when I came by on official business, Clara would try to seduce me into staying. It was a little game she liked to play. If I stayed of my own recognizance the vampires could do whatever they wished with me and it would be totally legal.

  She circled behind me, her hand brushing lightly across my shoulder. “You bring honor to your title, Inquisitor Goldman,” she whispered in my ear. “I won’t forget what you did for Mistress Selena.” With that she kissed me on the neck, quickly caressing the skin above my jugular vein with her tongue. Tingles of pleasant electricity jolted through every nerve ending in my body. Some parts of my anatomy felt that tingling way too much. “Travel safely,” she said, and was gone by the time I turned to look at her. I had left in a delectable cloud of confusion.

  My body reacted in the present to those memories; my heart skipping a beat, my blood quickening its pace. “She kissed me,” I said to Simon, who was staring daggers at me.

  “Where?” Simon paced back and forth in front of me, chewing his lower lip as he went.

  “In the doorway as we were leaving.”

  He stopped his circuit, looked at me, and frowned. “Don’t be stupid. Where on your body did she kiss you?”

  “Oh,” I replied wittily. “On the neck.” I rubbed at the spot as heat flowed into my face under Simon’s scrutiny. Larry sat up straight on the couch, his eyebrows rising over the top of his sunglasses.

  Simon looked at Larry and said, “None of what is said here leaves this room.”

  Larry nodded. “I know the drill. Speak out under pain of death, yadda, yadda, yadda. Get on with the story already. It’s been a while since I’ve heard some good dirt.”

  Simon rolled his eyes and looked back to me, his features softening slightly. “How much do you remember about your training on vampire social gestures?”

  I shrugged. “Only the basics. I didn’t think I’d need to know vampiric interpersonal relationships.”

  “You remember, at least, how we mark someone?” Simon asked.

  “Of course,” I replied curtly. “A drop of your own blood so that your scent mingles with the victim’s.” I frowned, thinking it over. “She must have nicked her lip before she kissed me. But what does it mean?”

  Larry cleared his throat and spoke. “A mark like that can mean a number of things,” he said, taking to the subject matter like a lecturing professor. A kiss on any of the major veins or arteries without the drawing of blood could mean she views you as an equal, not food. It can also be a simple offer of protection; while you wear her mark no other vampire will touch you.” He waved the thought away like he were swatting at an annoying mosquito. My mind went to the girl in the hallway and her attempt to hide herself behind her boyfriend. Now her fear of me made sense. “But seeing as how you’re an Inquisitor and no vampire in their right mind would touch you anyway I doubt that’s it. A mark like the one she gave you is usually only given to human servants or, in rare cases, other vampires, and the marked usually know exactly what it represents. Clara left yours very open to interpretation.”

  Simon sat down heavily next to Larry, sinking deep into the couch. “It’s an insult, that’s what it is. Selena wouldn’t want to sully her reputation any more than it already is where you’re concerned, Frank, so she had her second mark you. It tells everyone that she doesn’t think I am capable of protecting you from my own kind, that I’m inferior. She’s given you the blessing of the master of the city without putting her own mark on you.”

  “I don’t need your protection, Simon,” I said, feeling the same sense of exclusion and inferiority that I had when Selena and Simon were talking about me before. “I’ve been doing this job for three years now, damn it!” I ground out through clenched teeth. “I don’t need you or Ben or anyone else trying to protect me.” I willed my voice back to calmer tones as Larry and Simon eyed me, the former with open surprise and the later with a carefully neutral expression. “That goes for Selena and Clara, too.”

  Simon held out both hands, palms out. “Calm down Frank. Of course I know that. The council wouldn’t have given you territory if you weren’t capable. But we, vampires that is, are a different species, literally and figuratively. That goes doubly for the older ones. The rationalization is that if you’re not one of us, you’re food and should be treated accordingly. Selena is using that old mindset to insult both of us. Sh
e’s saying that you are on her land and therefore you are her property. And me? I’m just an interloper who can’t protect his friends. I might as well not exist.”

  Sitting there looking at Simon, I tried to reconcile Clara’s kiss with what he was saying. It hadn’t felt like an insult. But the intricacies of vampire culture were hard to grasp. They were a mercurial race whose traditions were as old as time and not well understood by outsiders. Still, the memory of Clara’s warm tongue flicking over my jugular vein was an affront I could live with.

  Larry snorted. “What a bitch. Want a beer?” Simon and I both nodded vigorously.

  He came back with three beers, handed them out, and went back to the kitchen. As he was walking away, he called back to us, “You two crazy kids go ahead and do your secret handshakes or whatever you do that we normal folk aren’t allowed to see while I fix us some grub.”

  “He’ll hear us,” Simon grumbled. “There’s barely a wall separating the two rooms.”

  I held up a hand to stop any further protests. “He has human-level hearing until he drinks some of that shaman blood I brought over. Hell, it might even be worse than human for all I know. Besides, I trust him. Now tell me what you know about this necromancer.”

  “Okay, I’ll start at the beginning. That was about two months ago.”

  He told me in hushed tones what had happened in L.A. and it didn’t bode well for Oakland if it was the same necromancer. Of course it was the same necromancer. I would be kidding myself in the worst way if I allowed myself to hope otherwise. How many rogues had there been since the war? Two, maybe three? An average of one a decade if it was three, and none of them were as dangerous as this one.

  It had begun with four murdered magic users, two witches and two warlocks, killed in ritual fashion. Their eyes, tongues, and hearts had been removed and placed in a pot where they were boiled to mush. Simon had assumed that it was a dark summoner trying to raise a Demon. It was a mistake anyone would have made, but Simon had a pain on his face as he told it that spoke of a feeling of failure. Over the next two weeks ten corpses had gone missing from the morgue. At the sight of each missing body a raven’s feather had been found along with some leftovers of the paste made from the boiled organs. It was at that point Simon figured a necromancer was responsible. Only one who was completely dedicated to the dark arts could have found the rites necessary for such a spell.