Dead of Night: The Nephalem Files (Book 3)

by Douglas Wayne

  "What will you do with all of that?" she asked, taking a seat on the concrete curb.

  "My people will want to examine it. Try to find out how it was able to enhance her powers like that."

  "I always believed she was one of the masters. As a child, I heard stories about people who work hard to master their abilities. Over time, they gain access to things that other people would consider impossible."

  "In your line of work, I can see that being the case. For the magical community, that kind of mastery comes only with age," I said, dimly. "Or assistance."

  I crawled over to the curb next to Rachel, but before I could pull out my phone it rang. "Raymond."

  "The dead all dropped to the ground almost instantly," he said, sounding almost ecstatic. "Did you kill her?"

  "Not yet. Sitting here near the corner of Royal and St. Peter now, over her unconscious body. We could use some medical assistance and help detaining her if she wakes up. I'm not really in any condition to chase her down."

  "I'm still in the square," he said. "I'll be there shortly."

  A few short minutes later Cummings strolled around the corner with Ross in tow. Both of them were still clearly alert as they both had their weapons out and ready for any threat they'd come across. As Cummings got close and noticed Abby unconscious on the ground, he lowered his weapon and put it away. "Cut off her hand?" he asked, clearly confused.

  "It was loaded with jewelry. Took a guess that's what was fueling her powers." I patted the pocket with the jewelry. "I guessed right."

  "But if you guessed wrong..." Cummings said.

  I cut him off. "She would've still passed out from shock. It was worth a shot either way."

  "So what do we do now? Call in your people to come pick her up?"

  I nodded. "Until then, we need to keep her under guard." I handed him the severed hand. "Probably try to get this reattached too."

  "You realize the tax payers won't like spending their money to have a hospital reattach her hand."

  "They wouldn't have liked it if she killed everyone either."

  Cummings reached for his ear and said something I couldn't make out. "I have two ambulances on the way. One for the two of you," he glanced down at Abby still lifeless on the ground, "and one for her."

  "I'll call my people to get their reps on the way here too. They should be here by the sixth, maybe even late tomorrow."

  "Good," he said. "I'm not sure how long we can keep her down here without someone wanting to take her to prison."

  "Don't fight it. An armed guard is not a bad idea, even under the pretense she is being transferred to a federal prison once she is better. My people will still be able to get past them to bring her back to a proper wizard prison."

  "Mind control shit, eh?"

  "Something like that."

  Cummings nodded and Ross even let an inkling of a smile form from the corner of his mouth.

  "Has any of your people found my assistant?"

  Cummings shook his head. "With all the chaos, I doubt anyone noticed anything. Any agents not guarding Ms. Cartier here will be on the street looking for her as well as NOPD. If she alive, we will find her."

  I nodded, but it didn't make me feel any better to hear. She had to be alive. I don't think I could live with myself if she wasn't.

  My phone started ringing again, this time the ringtone from the office. I was confused. Who could be calling me from there. I answered anyway. "Raymond."

  "Think I have your necklace figured out."

  "Stacy?"

  "Um, yeah?"

  "I thought you were out here somewhere."

  "Why would I be down there? You know I hate being so close to that much water, remember?"

  "Yeah, but..." my mind struggled to come to terms with her being alive and back at home. I looked down to Abby and wondered what other tricks she was hiding if she was capable of mimicking someones voice. "Never mind. And about the necklace, you're a little late. Have the offender down in front of me."

  "Wow, nice," she said, sounding surprised. "What did it do?"

  "Teleport with a trigger word."

  "Interesting. I couldn't find much about it. Only that it once belonged to Hugo Renou. There hasn't been a sign of the necklace until the other day when you sent me the pictures."

  "We can talk about it more when I get home," I said over the sound of the approaching ambulances heading towards me. "I need to go get looked at."

  Stacy sighed. "I think we need to send you to an occupational safety class. This is becoming a habit."

  "I'll think about it. Talk to you tomorrow."

  Thankfully the ambulances turned off the sirens before they got close since my ears were still ringing from the flash grenade. The paramedics stepped out of the back and immediately rushed over, wanting to put me on a stretcher. I shook my head and pointed to Abby. He nodded and they got to work getting her off the ground and into the back of the ambulance. Cummings, still holding the severed hand, and Ross jumped in the back with her. Both nodded before pulling the doors shut, and the ambulance sped around the corner and down the street.

  Our ambulance showed up a few minutes later. The paramedics loaded me on the stretcher, even going so far as to strap my neck into one of those annoying braces to hold it in place. Rachel laughed during the entire fiasco, even cheering them on when they threatened to restrain my hands. Eventually they loaded me into the ambulance before helping Rachel inside. Then took off down the street behind the other.

  "Well, there's good news and bad news," the doctor said, removing his glasses as he placed his clipboard on the bed next to me. "Your hip isn't shattered, but the joint was dislocated. The damage was fairly extensive, but we believe it may heal on its own with rest. Something, given your occupation, you probably won't get a lot of."

  "Hard to investigate anything while in a bed."

  "That is why I took the liberty of calling your office. Just to ensure your hip has a chance to heal properly."

  I sighed. "You called Stacy?"

  The doctor nodded and allowed a smile to form from the corners of his lips. "She said she would take care of it."

  "I'm not exactly sure how she plans to keep me from moving."

  The door opened with a creak and Max walked in, wearing his Harley Davidson leather jacket, black leather pants, both complete with metal studs as decorations. "That's where I come in, Junior. If the doc says you need to rest, you are going to rest."

  "Who's going to pay my bills while I can't work?"

  "That's been taken care of too. Between the money you were set to make on this case, and the funding I secured from the council, everything should be taken care of for at least six months."

  "Which is more than enough time," the doctor added. "I'm prescribing four weeks of complete rest. Week five you will start the first of twelve weeks of physical therapy to get your hip back into shape. If all is well, you will be back to full speed in about five months."

  "Great. What will I do while I'm out."

  "You can start by writing a detailed report of your time in the city. The council wants to know everything that happened while you were there."

  "Why don't they ask Cedric? Wasn't he the one in charge?"

  "He's been missing. They haven't heard from him in about a week."

  "Where'd he go?"

  "There's a chance one of Abby's creatures bit him. There were so many corpses all over the French Quarter that it will take weeks to identify them all."

  "You really think he's dead?"

  "Hard to say. Even the best of us get overwhelmed occasionally."

  Even though he hadn't contacted the council in a while, I wasn't so sure he was actually missing more than hiding. I didn't wish for him to be dead, but this did nothing to help my suspicions, which I kept to my self since I didn't want to hear it from Max again.

  "What's the word on Abby?" I asked the doctor.

  "We were able to reattach the hand, but it is too early to tell how functional i
t will be. She is going to be here for a few days at least before she gets transferred to prison."

  "And the woman I rode in with?"

  The door opened again and Rachel walked inside. She was wearing a hospital gown which was a stark contrast to the black I'd always seen her in before. Her hair was clean and combed out though it was still doing its own thing. She held her IV cart with her right arm while her left was held against her body by a sling in a pink cast. Most importantly there was a smile on her face. Something I'd never seen on her before.

  "I'll survive," she said in her familiar French accent. "What about you? Going to walk again?"

  "Not if Max here has a say about it," I said with a smile. I took in a deep breath and scooted over, offering a spot on my bed for here to sit. "What's next for you?"

  "I finally get to go home. Since I was young, I was groomed to track down Abby Cartier. Now that she is in custody, I suppose it's finally time to enjoy my life."

  "You didn't enjoy hunting and killing the undead?"

  She chuckled. "I enjoyed it greatly. But it is time to move on from that life."

  "You know. Our people could use the service of someone like you. To handle things our abilities cannot."

  "Thanks, but no thanks. Since I was but a little girl, I've dreamed of being a chef. Once I get back home, I'm going back to school. Maybe one day I'll open a little cafe in Paris."

  "Send me a line when you do. I want to be your first customer," I said.

  She offered her good hand, which I took. "It was a pleasure working for you. Even though you like to get yourself into trouble."

  "Thanks for the save. I couldn't have taken her down if you didn't help me out of the jail."

  "We will call it even for not letting her... pets, feed on me after her energy blast." She got up from the bed and grabbed her cart again. "Until we meet again."

  "I look forward to it."

  Rachel then turned and walked out of the room. I couldn't help but feeling a sense of loss as the door shut behind her. Being in the trenches with someone, with your lives on the line, brings people together in ways that wouldn't be possible otherwise. Before I'd come down here, she and I would've never recognized each other if we'd crossed paths. Now, I don't think I'd ever forget her face.

  I spent the next week in the hospital, only being allowed out of my bed to walk to the bathroom, and even that I had to fight for. If I was going to be confined to bed rest for the next few months, they were going to have to strap me to the bed to keep from moving. Which, I suspected Max was willing to do.

  In the following weeks, Max nursed me back to health and even managed some of the calls that came in, as he didn't want my business to suffer. That really shocked me considering he'd always wanted me to close up shop. I suppose that's one of the reasons he would've made a good father. He was more than willing to support me even when his gut told him not to.

  With me constantly at the office, even if I was confined to my upstairs bedroom, Stacy got to take a little extra time off. Of course, I paid her for the time, knowing that she'd end up making up for it later on.

  Abby ended up at council headquarters without much of an incident. To this day, Cummings and Ross are still there with her, trying to get the whole story. While they wanted to be there to question her themselves, what they didn't know was the length the council was going to go to bring them into the fold. Apparently just knowing about the magical realm is enough reason to keep people around these days. It made me wonder what was going on in the world to make that the case.

  Speaking of the council, I've talked to them a lot recently. They did some research on the rings I pulled from Abby's severed hand and figured out they were the source of all her power. Without them, she wasn't even a threat. But with them, she had the ability to challenge anyone in the world. The rings are now under constant guard to keep them from getting into the wrong hands. Even then, I can't help but believe that it will just make the council a target of future attacks. Why wouldn't they? If they could turn a weak death witch into a powerhouse, what would they do to someone already powerful. I hope the world never has to learn that answer.

  Mostly the council just calls to talk about the case though I learned that I was the last person to talk to Cedric. His body was never found in the carnage which led them to believe he had died somewhere more remote. I suggested that he might just be in hiding, but they couldn't figure out why he would. Still, it seemed odd that he would just up and disappear. I'm sure there was a reasonable explanation behind it all, it was just going to take some time to figure out.

  Most importantly, since New Orleans, I was able to just kick back and relax. Amazingly, I'd come to enjoy the time off after a few days. After the first month I started to wonder if I'd ever want to return to work ever again. Every time the thought crossed my head the dream would be shattered shortly later by the reality of that call I couldn't turn down. Even laid up as I was, I'm a sucker for the publicity piece.

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  Other Books in the Nephalem Files Universe

  Sparked

  Vampire for Hire

  Dead of Night

  Thank you again for reading my book. I spent countless hours writing and editing my book to
make it the best I could. I then sent the book to an editor in order to catch the things that I may have missed.

  No matter how much time we spent making sure things were perfect, no doubt some errors have made it through. If you happen to catch any, feel free to email me at douglas@douglaswayne.com so I can get it fixed ASAP.

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  AUTHOR'S NOTE

  I can remember the first fantasy book I read as a kid. It was Dragons of Autumn Twilight and the rest of the Dragonlance Chronicles. Raistlin, Tas, Tanis, and the rest of the cast had me putting my name on the list to borrow the book at least once a year at my school library. From the first read I fell in love.

  From there my love of fantasy turned into a love of gaming. Dungeons and Dragons, Rift, and Shadowrun firmly had my attention throughout my teenage years. There was hardly a week... a day when my friends and I didn't sit down to play something. Even when we weren't playing, we had a blast just creating characters or talking about the settings.

  Eventually, I taught myself how to be a dungeon master of the games. This allowed me to come up with scenarios and stories for my friends to play through. I didn't need any preparation beforehand, everything I needed came from my head.