Dead of Night: The Nephalem Files (Book 3)

by Douglas Wayne

  I stared at my phone for nearly twenty minutes before pressing the call button. It was nearly two in the morning here, so I knew it would be late wherever Max found himself. Thankfully he was generally a night person, a byproduct of his time spent with the Milwaukee vampire clans.

  The phone rang three times before he answered the phone. "Well, well. If it isn't the man intent on going against the council with every other breath."

  "Is it my fault they picked up the same case as me," I said. I spoke again before he had a chance to respond. "They put Cedric on the case."

  "You saw him?"

  "In the last place I expected to. Jail."

  "You're in jail? How'd you pull that one off?"

  "Long story, but I'm not there anymore."

  "Fill me in."

  I told him everything I knew about the night. I started with my conversation with Cedric right after telling him about getting arrested while leaving Cedar Valley. "There was something odd about the police station though. One of the officers came in shortly after Cedric left to question me. He was trying to get me to give him all the information I had about the case and why I'm here. Right after he threatened to throw the book at me, the lights flickered before going off. Then we heard a noise at the door."

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes before continuing. "The officer opened the door and a group of dead people walked through it. They ate him, Max. They devoured him right in front of me. I tried to help him, but I couldn't access my power. Something was blocking me."

  "Necromancer," he said calmly. "A powerful one if he was able to create a death aura around him."

  "It's a she," I corrected him. "That's what the ability is called though? A death aura?"

  "It is. That ability taints the life around the necromancer. They use the spell to some effect to call upon and control the dead. Usually the effect has to be channeled to be maintained. Powerful ones, however, can maintain it with barely a thought. Just like the way we can maintain a shield after it has been cast."

  "If she can maintain the spell indefinitely, how can I take her down?"

  "You can't."

  "Come on, Max. She can't be the first powerful necromancer to cause trouble. Surely there is a way to take them down."

  "There is," he said, pausing. "You just can't do it, even if you had access to your powers when she's around."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Teleportation."

  "There has to be another way." He was right. That was one ability I had absolutely no chance of using. I spent three months of constant practice trying to get a glimmer of the spell to work without any luck. It wasn't like the time I learned how to do an EMP blast where I was able to create the required spark. I wasn't even able to cast the simplest parts of the teleportation spell, let alone show any ability with the actual incantation.

  "There is. But unless you can fight like Jet Li, you will die long before you get close enough to see her face, let alone strike her with your sword. A necromancer who is able to maintain the death aura as powerful as hers will have dozens, if not hundreds, of undead with them. Even in small numbers, they can overwhelm the most prepared wizards." I opened my mouth to ask a question, but he spoke before I could spit them out. "How'd you get out of the prison? Behind bars you were safe unless she opened the cell herself. You aren't calling from your cell, meaning you are either back at the hotel or holed up somewhere in the police station. Either way, you had to deal with the undead that took down the officer."

  "There was a woman. French. She claimed to be a slayer."

  "Makes sense. She well armed?"

  "Very. And skilled. She told me she was here tracking down this necromancer from her homeland. Couldn't give me a name, but she seemed to know all about wizards."

  "A French slayer. Had to be one of the Pernets. If I had to guess, you met Rachel. Blond, a few years younger than you, handshake so rough it would make the biggest redneck jealous."

  "You know her?"

  "There are about twenty slayer families in the world and I know them all. The Pernets are one of the good ones. They only go after the particularly nasty targets. I've worked with Rachel's Father three different times. They are very skilled in hand to hand combat. They prefer to use bladed weapons, but are skilled with anything. Even bows. The only thing I don't get is why we didn't know one of the Pernets was on the move. I hadn't gotten any information about a threat to France in recent months to rile them up."

  "She said something about her killing hundreds of people to fuel her armies. Maybe it wasn't big enough to draw council attention."

  "If a necromancer does anything, it draws council attention. A wizard, or witch in her case, using their power to kill is another flag. We should've heard about it well before she could get to New Orleans. Either she is really good at hiding her tracks, or she has someone in the council covering them for her."

  The answer hit me like a light. "Cedric."

  "I doubt it, lad. I realize the two of you aren't the best of friends, but I doubt he would throw his career with the council away just to help a dark wizard. Especially a necromancer."

  "The undead attacked the station just a few hours after he left. If he was working with a her, wouldn't he want to be out of there before they attacked?"

  "He would."

  "Better question. The undead seemed to be directed to me. Would they have even attacked the station if I'd taken Cedric on his offer to leave?"

  "I doubt he made you the offer just to kill you. He was trying to keep you out of harms way. Few people can take down a skilled necromancer."

  "He's one of them?"

  "He's able to draw in essence through the death aura. If he is there, I promise he has an entourage of skilled fighters to back him up."

  "Yeah, but..."

  "No buts. Nothing you say will change my mind. Cedric is a well respected member of the council, and as such I trust him."

  "With your life?"

  "And yours. He is not some ruthless killer, hell bent on taking you down. His investigation, and your trial, was done by the books. While I may not agree with the punishment they handed down, I do believe they were acting in the best interests of the council by bringing you to trial."

  "Way to take their side," I said, frustrated.

  "I'm not taking their side." We both remained silent for a few moments before he finally spoke again. "You've become brash, even reckless at times. I've been sent to kill wizards who have done half of the stuff you did in Boulder. The only reason someone wasn't sent there to begin with was that you were acting with good intentions."

  "You said something to them, didn't you?"

  "I had to. Was I supposed to let them send someone to hunt you down?"

  "No, but you could've told me I was crossing the line."

  "You're a grown man, Ray. You have been for some time. I may have only raised you for a few short years, but I'd hoped it was long enough for you to know the difference between right and wrong. Besides, Cedric was sent to give you that warning. Your actions at the hospital that day led him to believe that you could be trusted to appear at the meeting on your own. You may not like it, but I got their side of the story while you were busy in Cincinnati."

  "And what was their side of the story?"

  "Look, kid. I know you were acting in good intentions, but you have to be careful about how you handle things. We have treaties enacted with local, state, and even national governments. Those treaties are already on eggshells. All it takes is one event to change that. Cedric, and the council, believed your downing of that Delta flight was grounds enough to bring it crashing to the ground. If that happens, shit will truly hit the fan."

  "We have the upper hand," I said, not understanding what we gain by signing the treaty to begin with. "We have access to power they can't even begin to comprehend."

  "And they have access to vast numbers of people who would stop at nothing to wipe us all out or enslave us just because we are different. I know you ar
e a movie buff, so I'll tell you to watch the X-Men series again. The fear, and outrage, the government sees in the mutants is much the same fear they see in us. They want us to register with them so they know where to find us. If it were up to them, all of us would be microchipped so they could track us all day long. That tracking hasn't been forced on us because we have agreed to police ourselves using their recommended punishments."

  "So it was the government's idea to send me to Cincinnati to take down an ancient vampire?"

  "It was the council's recommendation, to counter the amount of missing people in the area. It just so happened that there was an ancient vampire stirring up trouble. To be fair, the council wasn't aware of him, only that other vampires were involved."

  "I guess that makes it OK, then," I said, sarcastically. I was starting to question Max's loyalties and where he and I really stood. He was supposed to be a father figure to me, even a mentor. Not the man who took the side of the people who seemed to want to take me down.

  "It doesn't make it OK. If it was up to me, I would've been the one to handle the vampire in Cincinnati, not you. I thought they were foolish to send someone so young into that mess."

  "Afraid I couldn't handle it?"

  "No. I was afraid you'd overstep again. They had you on watch, Raymond. There were twenty wizards in the city just waiting for you to slip. Until you took down the gentleman's club, you played it by the books. Even then, the only lives you endangered were yours and the vampire's."

  "So now the truth comes out. Look, I'm sorry I called you about this. Next time I'll just find things out on my own."

  "Raymond, don't..."

  "Don't what? Guilt trip you? Did you expect me to sit here and take your lectures? I'm on their team," I said. "Your team. If they can't see that, maybe it's time for me to cut my ties."

  "Then you guarantee they hunt you down the next time you even skirt the line. You need to give things time, Ray. Let it blow over. Instead, you seem intent on butting heads with the guy who is in charge of the inquisition. I have no love for Cedric either, but I promise he will make your life hell if you don't pay attention to what he has to say."

  I'd had enough. If he wasn't going to help me, it was time to cut my losses and find a way for me to take the necromancer down on my own. "Look. I'm sorry I bothered you."

  "You never bother me, kid. I just wish you weren't so stubborn." I sat there silent, trying to come up with a comeback, but instead I found myself fighting off the tears. My stomach was in knots. I wanted to yell. Scream. Before I could, he spoke again. "Just do me a favor. I know you hate risking your business, but you are in over your head. You need to cut your losses and get out of there. I can call Cedric and see if he'll put his offer back on the table."

  "I don't want his money. I want to finish this."

  "And I don't want to go to a funeral, but it seems one of us will be disappointed. If you need any real help, don't hesitate to call. But I'll be damned if I'm going to play a part in your suicide."

  He hung up the phone, leaving me brooding on the other end of the line. I held the phone to my ears for ten minutes when the tears finally came and I cried myself to sleep.

  - 15 -

  I awoke to the sound of the hotel alarm buzzing close to my ear. Without a look, I reached up and pressed the snooze button and rolled over. Before I could get back to sleep, my mind relives the conversation I had with Max the night before. It tried to come up with something I could've said that would've led us down a different path. One that didn't end with him slamming the phone on me, making me wish I had done something different.

  He'd tried to raise me right. Considering he'd never had any kids of his own, I think he did a darn good job. He just had his work cut out for him and didn't realize it. As a child, my mother said I had my father's stubbornness. I couldn't remember any specific situation of him from my childhood, but as an adult I'd always assumed she was talking about their relationship problems.

  The one thing I always wanted to take from my father was his sense of resolve. If he stepped up and said he was going to do something, he was going to do it come hell or high water. He was never quick to take on things that might put him in a bad spot, but even if he did, he was there to see it through to the end. That's the reason I took to Max. He had the same trait.

  My parents, god rest their souls, got me during my early childhood, when the going was easy compared to where I was headed. I have no doubt they would've preferred to be around for a while longer, but from their front row view I'm sure even they would admit that I was a rambunctious teen. Max had endured those years and even still treated them like they were some of the best of his life. And yet I was willing to throw it all away just to keep my word to a man who had tried to treat me like I was no better than the very bodies he buried in his lands. Just an ends to a means.

  I forced myself out of bed and to the small table next to the door with the single serve coffee maker on top of it. I put in a cup of water and a package of dark roast then stepped into the bathroom to take a shower.

  As the hot water poured down my body, I thought about what I was really doing here. Was I actually here to help Nicholas Bates find out who destroyed his cemetery, or was I staying around just to fuel my ego. Being in the shower made it impossible to create one of those nifty charts where you come up with things to describe both sides. The winner, or loser in this case, was the one with the most entries underneath it. I didn't have to make a list to know which one was true.

  It was my overwhelming sense of pride that made me stick around Boulder even after I had vowed to step away. Sure, Trevor's death had been the point that kept me there regardless of the risk, but I was more than willing to see the case through, even as the Boulder police threatened to have me arrested. It was that same sense of pride that made me want to finish this case.

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized. The job isn't about the money or even the people. I could've taken a well paying position on the council where all my earthly needs were taken care of, yet I opted to go it alone. To do the one thing everyone had assured me I'd never be able to do.

  You aren't the best wizard, they'd say to my face. When I wasn't there, they would be laughing at my plans. The more people told me no, the more I wanted to show them yes. For the first time in my life I had seen that this wasn't always an asset. There are times when the stakes get too high, when reality steps in to take a huge chunk out of your hide and tells you to slow it down. I was just thankful that I learned it the easy way. It was not too late to mend my relationship with Max. I had said some stupid things, but nothing worse than I had ever said to him before.

  I turned off the water, toweled off, shaved, and got dressed before grabbing the cup of coffee off the table. It was lukewarm after my long shower, but I didn't mind as it was more about the caffeine than the warm drink.

  Drink in hand, I plopped down on the padded chair and grabbed my phone. I sat there for a long moment contemplating what I was going to say. Talking to Max would be the easy part. Sure, the conversation would start with a verbal tongue lashing I would endure for the sake of my friendship. Afterwords I would tell him that he is right. That I was being foolish and was willing to step away. There would be a moment where he would ask me if it was a joke and he would wait patiently for me to deliver a punchline that wouldn't come. The rest would be vintage Max, who would offer to do everything in his power to make it right to the people here.

  The conversation with Nicholas Bates would be the hard part. How did you tell someone you aren't going to deliver on what you had promised. Someone who had already paid you a fairly large deposit, mind you. It was something I'd never done before, and even now, never planned on doing again.

  I finished my coffee and steeled my nerves to handle the hard phone call first knowing Max would call Nicholas afterwords just to make sure I wasn't pulling his chain... and probably to get an address to send a check to cover the cost of everything I'd used of his while here.r />
  I picked up the phone and had the number half dialed when I heard a knock on my hotel door that nearly had me jumping out of my seat. Who was here knocking on my door this early in the morning?

  I did know one thing. If this was one of Nicholas' employees, my conversation was about to get a whole lot easier.

  Without hesitation, I pulled back the chain and unlocked the door.

  "Good morning, Mr. Gilmore. I hear you had an interesting night," Agent Cummings said as he peered into the room.

  "Didn't realize you guys took house calls. If you don't mind, I'm a bit busy." I tried to shut the door, but Agent Cummings slipped his shiny black shoe between the door and frame before I could.

  "We're here to ask you a few questions."

  "I don't talk without my lawyer," I said, pushing against the hardened wooden door as Cummings pushed the door back at me. I went to kick his foot out of the door jamb when I noticed the glistening steel of a pistol just outside the door.

  "I assumed you'd say that. In that case, you are under arrest."

  "What charge?" I demanded.

  "Murder in the first, armed criminal action, escaping your prison cell, need me to continue?"

  I relaxed my grip and let him open the door. "I had nothing to do with any of that. If you are watching me even half as close as you said you would, you would know that."

  "What I know is that last night you were arrested by New Orleans PD. We talked to the officials at the precinct and learned they had planned on holding you as long as they could before releasing you to the public. The fact that we are finding you here tells us either they had a change of heart, or you found a way out."

  I walked back into my room and took a seat on the bed. Agent Cummings and Agent Ross followed me, Ross sitting on the chair and Cummings the couch. Cummings pulled out his small notebook from his pocket while Ross continued to hold his gun, still trained on me. "I had nothing to do with what happened to the prison."