The Succubus: A Lawson Vampire Novel (The Lawson Vampire Series)

by Jon F. Merz

  When I was done, Wirek looked at me. “And what haven’t you told me?”

  I sighed and brought my phone out and pulled up the video I’d shot over at the Luxe development. “Shot this earlier at another crime scene.”

  “There was a third killing?”

  I shook my head. “No. At least, we don’t think so. I think this was where she put all those organs to use, but for what purpose, I have no idea. Take a look.”

  Wirek took my phone and watched the video while I glanced around. I saw no photographs anywhere, but that wasn’t unusual for Wirek. He’d once told me that he never understood the attraction of keeping photos around. He had all of his memories locked away in his head and he had far too many people in there to consider putting photos of some and not the others. It wouldn’t be proper, he’d told me.

  Still, the place could use a few of them to give it a homier look.

  Wirek handed me back my phone. “And what are your thoughts?”

  I shrugged and pocketed the phone. “I would have said she was just some sort of complete psychopath.”

  “But?”

  “But those sigils on the walls - written as they were in blood. It’s magic, isn’t it?”

  Wired frowned but said nothing for a moment. “Well, it’s blood magic. That’s for certain. Which makes it already more formidable than I’d like to be able to tell you.”

  “Is it vampiric?”

  Wirek looked out of the window closest to him before answering. “I don’t think it is,” he said finally. “I’ve never come across it before if it is.”

  “How is that possible? I thought you knew everything.”

  Wirek laughed. “Hardly. I just know more than most. And most of the time, whatever you bring me is something I’ve seen before. After all, I’ve been around an awful long time.”

  “But this?”

  Wired shook his head. “Those sigils look terribly old. Granted they’re not exactly beautifully rendered, but more smeared than anything else. There’s a primality to them that concerns me.”

  “Concerns you how?”

  “All magic adheres to certain rules. Restrictions and protocols, as it were. Magic, after all, is a system like any other. You can’t simply just throw a few things together and expect it to work. That’d be like me tossing an onion and a bowl of spaghetti together and expecting it to be a steak dinner. It doesn’t work that way. You need specific components for magic to work. And as time has passed on this planet, those who wield it have formalized things a great deal.”

  “All right.”

  Wirek pointed at my pocket. “But this, what you just showed me, is not formal at all. It’s primitive. Primal, as I said.”

  “So it should be easier to deal with then, right?”

  Wirek shook his head. “Unfortunately, it’s exactly the opposite. It will be tougher to deal with because it’s more unknown to me than anything else. Think of it as the stuff that existed before any formalized protocols sprang up. In other words, this is root of magic you’re dealing with - when things were freer than they are now.”

  “How much freer?”

  “That I cannot say,” said Wirek. “But I would suggest that if this killer is using such magic, then they may be more capable of wielding it to their unique desires than someone else.”

  “But you’re not certain.”

  “No. I am not.”

  “Is there anyone else who would know how to wield such power?”

  “I have not heard of anyone existing who would know how for many, many years. The fact that this is on the wall of a condominium in Boston is deeply troubling. To wield such power would require years and years of training, and such power had not been seen in the magic we typically know about for a long time.”

  “How long?”

  “Thousands of years,” said Wirek.

  I leaned forward in the chair. “Are you telling me the woman using this magic is over a thousand years old?”

  Wirek shook his head. “No.”

  I leaned back. “Good.”

  “She is probably closer to two thousand years old. If not older than that even.”

  I took a moment to let that sink in. “I’ve never heard of any of our kind living longer than eight hundred years. And I’m looking at him.”

  Wirek smiled. “There are a few older than me. But you’re right: normally the Elders live the longest. There have always been rumors, though. Legends mostly, about those of our kind who have somehow found a way to distill the life force energy the majority of us utilize for our strength and vitality to do more. To prolong aging and, in some cases, mortality itself.”

  “They’re immortal?”

  “Well, all time has not yet passed, so one cannot truly say they are immortal until that happens. But let’s agree to say that they haven’t died yet, so…potentially immortal.”

  “You’ve heard of these legends before?”“Of course, but that is all they have ever been. Legends are inherent in any culture. Ours is no different. But where has the proof ever been? If such people existed then surely we would know about it.”

  “Not if they didn’t want word getting out that they’d unlocked the secrets of living forever. Why would they tell anyone? They’d probably keep it a secret until they finally died.”

  “If they died,” said Wirek.

  “Good point.” I looked out the window. It had started snowing since I’d arrived. “So how the hell do I fight someone who is potentially immortal?”

  Wirek smiled. “By first remembering that there’s a difference between being immortal and being invulnerable. Just because someone hasn’t died yet doesn’t mean they cannot die. And in this case, the fact that there are magical rituals being performed pretty much tells me that whoever this is, they are somehow beholden to performing such rituals. After all, if they weren’t, then why continue to do it at all? It just draws too much attention and the killer would know the Council would sanction them for it.”

  “So if she is killing then there’s more of a reason than just the kill itself. Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “There has to be,” said Wirek. “If I was this person, then I would do my best to avoid any sort of scrutiny whatsoever.”

  “Yeah, but if she’s two thousand years old, then why is this the first we’ve heard of her? How come we haven’t come across this before? We ought to have stories of other crimes like this one in the archives.”

  “There could be any number of reasons why we don’t,” said Wirek. “It’s only been within the last hundred years that our own society has fully come together and embraced the Council and its laws. Before that, we were moving toward such a thing, but there were always holdouts. Your ancestor Wolfric knew that. And there were always places in the world that the Council couldn’t necessarily reach into with their authority, despite their best efforts.”

  The snow fall increased and I started wondering if I should get going. The drive back to my house would take nearly an hour at this time of day. Plus, I wanted to get a workout in.

  “So a two-thousand year old vampire is killing people and using their organs in some ancient magic ritual - possibly to prolong their life - that isn’t necessarily beholden to the rules of modern-day magic.” I looked at Wirek. “Is that pretty much it?”

  Wirek nodded. “Unfortunately so. Whoever the killer is, they are undoubtedly skilled and cunning. They have lived a long time and they would not have survived unless they were extremely adept at doing whatever it takes to hide themselves and take out any threat that has presented itself.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” I stood and shook his hand. “Thank you for the information.”

  Wirek shook his head as he stood. “I didn’t really give you any. Just made a few observations about what might possibly be the nature of the killer you seek. I wish I had more help to give you. But this is the best I can do for the moment.”

  “For the moment?”

  Wirek smiled. “I’ll look into
this sigils a bit more. I’ll see if there’s any record of them anywhere. I don’t think there is, but it doesn’t hurt to check around.”

  “Let me know if you find anything.”

  “Of course,” said Wirek. “And Lawson?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful.”

  17

  I found my way back to my gym and walked in with a lot on my mind. I’d hoped that Wirek would have all the information I needed to find and take out this killer. Instead, I got a whole lot of nothing aside from a warning and a bunch of nostalgic memories I might have preferred to experience at another time. Not that I hated my past, far from it. It’s just that when I work, all I want to concentrate on is that. And having my mind occupied with thoughts of my family isn’t always the best prescription for getting my job done.

  Whatever, I’d deal with it like I always did. By sweating my ass off and lifting some seriously heavy ass shit.

  The workout for the day was “Fran,” an awful couplet of exercises: 21-15-9 of thrusters and pull-ups. So, do 21 thrusters and then 21 pull-ups, 15 and 15, 9 and 9 and done. Sounds easy, right?

  It’s terrible.

  First of all, I happen to hate thrusters. Secondly, you are heaving at the end of this workout in ways that you’ve never experienced before. A good Fran time is under four minutes. Mine was around 3 and change, but even that was something I always tried to improve on. Despite the fact that I hated the workout.

  I loaded up the bar with my thruster weight and waited for the clock to count down. The class was full of other fitness-minded vampires and when the coach said, “3-2-1-GO!” we all grabbed the bar and started pumping out thrusters. I resolved each time I did Fran to not drop the bar, but it was easier to think that than actually do it. Thrusters suck your wind so bad that all you want to do is drop the bar and run far away.

  I didn’t. Finally, I finished twenty-one reps and moved to my pull-ups, which weren’t a problem to bang out unbroken. The problem was the faster you did the pull-ups, the sooner you had to go back and do more thrusters. Yuck.

  By the time I finished, the clock had just struck three minutes. I’d shaved a few seconds off my previous time, and when you’re talking about Fran, shaving seconds off is cause for celebration. I didn’t necessarily feel like celebrating, though - I felt like puking my guts out. Typical Fran experience.

  I collapsed on the other side of the room and sucked down some water, mopped my head, and generally tried to get my heaving lungs back under control. As more people finished and dropped in a pool of sweat and profanity, I gradually got my system back under control. The last of the folks finished right around eight minutes and then the only sound you could hear aside from the music, was the gasping for breath of everyone in the class.

  Fun times.

  We slowly got up and put our gear away: plates back on the weight stacks and barbells back in the gun racks. I looked around and decided that the best cure for my frustration with the identity of the killer might be to bang out some more reps. But what? The thrusters had taxed my legs and shoulders and the pull-ups had fried my arms. I’d just scored a new PR on my deadlift the other day, so my choices were pretty limited.

  I could bench, I decided.

  I moved to one of the squat stands at the back of the room and adjusted the J hooks until the height was right for my arm length. Then I grabbed a bench and slid it into position.

  “You mind if I bench with you?”

  I turned, all ready to tell whoever was talking to me to beat it because all I wanted to do was lose myself in the temple of iron.

  Lilith.

  She stood there with what was clearly a new haircut: shorter than it had been previously and more blonde than I remembered it. She was smiling and something about how she looked at me drew me in. She had amazing eyes. And I’m a sucker for eyes.

  Still, benching with her wasn’t going to be easy. We’d have to adjust the J hooks every time we swapped because she wasn’t anywhere near my height. When I mentioned this, she just shrugged.

  “I can drag over another stand and use that. All I need is a good spotter to grab the wight in case I fail.”

  I smiled. “And you’re going to grab the weight if I happen to fail as well?”

  “I’m stronger than you think, Lawson.”

  I didn’t know about that, but I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t check out Lilith’s butt as she walked off to get another squat rack. And when she carried it over, I had to admit that I was impressed with her strength.

  And the styling of her workout apparel.

  Lilith dropped her rack next to mine, far enough away that we could load weight plates easily without getting in the way of the other rack. Then she grabbed a bench and carefully positioned it just so, laying down on the bench and testing the height of the bar to where her hands should have been.

  “Does this look right?”

  I eyed her. “You’re the professional. What do you think?”

  She smiled. “What are you warming up with?”

  “Probably body weight,” I said. “That just gets the blood moving. Grease the groove, so to speak.”

  Lilith nodded. “I’ll do the same, but you can’t look because I don’t want you knowing how much I weigh.”

  I chuckled. “Oh please, you’re in great shape. There’s no need to be ashamed of something like that. Besides, since when do we pay attention to the scale? What counts is how your clothes look and feel on you, right?”

  “And how we look naked,” said Lilith.

  I laughed. “Yeah, I’d forgotten about that one.”

  “I think it’s a good thing to keep in mind,” she said. “Motivation and whatnot.”

  “Whatever works for you,” I said. “I tend to focus on just getting better than I was yesterday.”

  Lilith sat up so she was facing me on the bench. “Are you always so intense?”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled. “You’re a Scorpio, aren’t you?”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “You pay attention to that stuff? The zodiac and all that jazz?”

  Lilith got up and grabbed a few plates, dropping them next to her rack. “Depends. I mean, I don’t live by it, certainly, but there’s something there that I think helps people understand themselves better. And if they’re able to do that, then it can’t be a bad thing, can it?”

  “I suppose not. I just never want to live my life obsessed with what’s written about me in a newspaper.”

  “Now you’re dating yourself,” said Lilith. “Everyone knows the best horoscopes aren’t in the papers anymore, they’re online.”

  “And you? What’s your sign?” I blanched. “God, that sounded so utterly tacky.”

  Lilith laughed again. “Aries. The first sign of the zodiac. We’re energetic and explosive.”

  I tucked a pair of forty-five plates onto either end of my barbell and then a pair of twenty-fives to bring the total up to my bodyweight: one hundred eighty five pounds. I leaned back and banged out a quick set of ten, rested for a minute and then did another set of ten. That would be enough to get the blood flowing. Now it was time to start building.

  Lilith had about a buck twenty on her bar, which I figured was fairly accurate. She wasn’t rail thin, thankfully. And the weight she carried fit her frame well, giving her plenty of curves packed with muscle. I liked the way it looked on her.

  She was nothing like Talya. But there was something there. It probably stemmed from the time I realized that older women were more attracted to me than younger ones. I remember walking home one time and passing an older woman who told me how attractive I was. At this point, I couldn’t even get a girl my own age to go out with me and to all of sudden realize I was attractive to an older, experienced woman gave me a shot of confidence that has never faltered.

  Lilith reracked her weight and sat up. “You going to spot me on my next set?”

  “Sure. What do you want?”

  She eyed the stack of plates. “May
be a pair of fifteens.”

  I nodded and slid them on either end before slapping the collars on. I stood behind the bar and over Lilith’s head slightly. If we were anywhere else but a gym, my positioning would have looked like I was about to sixty-nine her. As it was, Lilith had a playful grin on her face.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded and took the bar out of the rack. She lowered it under control and then banged out a set of six reps before reracking it.

  “Nice work.”

  “What about you, Lawson?”

  I moved over to my own stack and chose a pair of forty-fives. After putting them on, I laid on the bench and looked up. Lilith was standing over me in the same way I’d been over her, except just a little bit closer because she wasn’t as tall.

  I need to focus on the task at hand, not what was staring me in the eyes. I grabbed the bar and took it out of the rack, lowered it, and then pressed it up for six reps before reracking it.

  “Oh yeah, you’re definitely a Scorpio,” said Lilith. “The intensity in your eyes in utterly amazing. I’ve known Scorpios before who were intense, but you’re like, James Bond intense.”

  I sat up. “You don’t say.”

  Lilith smacked me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

  “I’ve never had any complaints,” I said.

  She grinned. “I’ll bet.” Then she moved back to her bench, sat down and got ready to do another set.

  “Same weight?”

  “Two more tens, please.”

  I slid the plates on and resumed my position to spot her in case the lift went bad. She reached her hands up and grabbed the bar. On the next breath, she took it out and banged out her set.

  “Good job,” I said as I guided the barbell back into the rack.

  “Do you come here a lot?” asked Lilith as she took a sip of water from her bottle.

  I shrugged. “Depends. My work keeps me busy, so I get here when I can. But sometimes, I’m gone for a while.”

  “What do you do exactly?”

  “International law. I’m overseas quite a bit.”

  She lit up. “Like Paris?”