by L.J. Hayward
Chapter 13
I woke up around noon. There were some niggles in my back, but that was probably just from sleeping sitting up. Otherwise, pain free, baby. Mercy had done it.
Speaking of the Mercinator…
She wasn’t in her room. I had a mild panic, then went back to my room and looked under the bed. There was a Mercy sized ball pressed up against the wall at the head of the bed, as far from any edges where light might squeeze in as she could get. I got a blanket all the same and covered her completely. She was zonked. The healing had taken it out of her. Crazy kid had obviously stayed to the very last minute and was trapped in my room.
There was a message on the phone from Roberts, asking if I was okay. The guy talked tough, but he was a softy. I called him back.
“Oh, you’re alive. Well, okay. Thanks. Bye.”
“Hang on, man. I want to thank you again. I really did appreciate it. I owe you one.”
“You owe me two suits and some dignity. Gale was not impressed. She really thinks I need better taste in friends.”
I wandered out onto the deck and threw myself onto a banana lounge. “How long you been seeing her? You haven’t mentioned her.”
My neighbour Charles was out on his deck, in similar position, reading. I waved and he sort of returned it and then concentrated on his book. My neighbours think I’m strange. That’s probably mostly my fault because, well, I am strange. Living a very nocturnal life, no discernible job, rooming with a hot girl who looked much younger than me and seemed a bit special needs (which she was, Charles just didn’t know what sort of special needs). But, part of it is Charles’ fault as well. He’s the sort of nosey neighbour who can justify any level of snooping with the words ‘community service’. What also doesn’t help is their proximity. It makes them unintentional targets when I’m practicing my psychic skills. I know things about my neighbours no one outside of their bedroom should know (Charles claims there is no problem, but his wife, Sue, keeps hinting about that nasal delivery technology) and in some back-brain, primitive instinctual way, Charles suspects that I know. It makes for a weird combination of offence and defence whenever we have the misfortune of meeting.
“For good reason, obviously.” Roberts sighed. “Been seeing her for a couple of weeks. She reps for some of the competition.”
“Way to get inside information. She seemed nice. Not your usual sort.”
There was a contemplative silence. “What do you mean by that?”
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Are you still drugged up?”
“Nope. Mercy did her witch doctory thing on me. I’m all good.”
“Then you’re in full mental capacity?”
“Heh, as much as usual.”
“Then you meant something by that. Not my usual sort? Because she’s nice?”
Crap. Roberts had got out of bed not only on the wrong side, but in the wrong post code, apparently. Then I remembered who had got him out of bed.
“Sorry, man. I didn’t really mean anything by it. We didn’t freak her out too much, did we?”
“Well, I don’t know about freak out, but you didn’t make a favourable impression. She wanted to know how such a pair of mental deficients as you and Mercy could afford the house, the car and the bike. And not have any milk in the fridge.”
I laughed so hard Charles looked up. He caught me catching him and ducked under his book again.
“She’s a keeper, Rob.”
“Look, man, about this morning. I’m sorry you came off as bad as you did, and I’m really glad you’re okay now…”
Every last shred of good humour fled at the tone of his voice. “But…”
“Jeez. Matt, this is getting intense. Those vampires at the Coast, then last night. Maybe you need to back down a bit. I mean, you’re only up now because Mercy put some sort of whammy on you. Remember what happened last time she did that?”
Sort of. When the compulsion wore off, I was so fucked from pain I spent the better part of two days passed out. Roberts didn’t really need me to answer that.
“Why are you doing this? Cool it for a while. Take a long break. Recover properly before you go hurling yourself head long at any more mobs. And while I think of it, why were you at the hospital last night?”
What did I tell him? That some smarmy British guy scared the living shit out of me by insinuating I was some sort of vampire leader? That I’d made myself and Mercy into a rival clan? That we were now supposedly at war with a gazillion vampires and their more-powerful-than-you-can-imagine great great great Grandpas?
Well, I probably could and he would understand and at least listen to me panic if he couldn’t add anything constructive.
Then I’d have to tell him about the deal the Reds wanted, as well. And he would come out personally, pack my bags and drive me somewhere a long way away. He might even take Mercy as well.
“Matt?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Anything wrong?”
“Nah. You’re right. I should back away, get lost.”
He was quiet for a while. “But you’re not going to.”
“If I ran now, I’d never stop. I tried that once. Not doing it again. Not good for the soul.”
“Neither is getting all your blood sucked out. Look—”
“Hey, don’t say it. This is my fight. I won’t ask you along.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
But he had been. The night at Surf Wars had been scary. And that had been a bunch of babies.
“Whatever. I’ll keep in touch. Let you know we’re all right.”
“Like I care,” he muttered.
“Screw you, too.” I hung up.
The sun was hot, for all that it was May and winter was knocking at the door. I liked it and lay back to soak it up. Maybe I could absorb some and use it against the coming horde of vampires. Because, make no mistake, they would come. I’d pretty much stuck my boot up the Reds collective arse last night, and they wouldn’t take that lightly. If Aurum was right about the psychic link, the other Reds would know what had happened.
There was no doubt as to what they wanted. I had nothing of value to them but Mercy. It hadn’t been hard to work out she wasn’t your average vampire. She took down eight babies Tuesday night and she would have made short order of the bunch last night. She’s very rarely come off second best, and she even took down a troll under the old Hornibrook Bridge last Christmas. I helped, of course. Someone had to keep a look out and make sure passing traffic didn’t see too much. When it came down to the dirty fighting, Mercy was the champ. It just surprised me it had taken the local vampires so long to figure it out.
As for what they wanted from me? I guessed my command over Mercy.
I went inside and found Aurum’s card, then dithered about for a while not calling him. Finally, I gave in.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Matt Hawkins.”
“Mr Hawkins. It’s good to hear from you. I had wondered if I would.”
I grimaced. “Yeah, well, I’ve done some thinking since we spoke.”
“And some damage to the local Reds, I understand.”
I fell into a chair at the kitchen table. “You know about that?”
“Enough to be surprised you’re calling now. I would have thought you not yet recovered sufficiently to be thinking about your next move.”
I glared at the phone. “How do you know?”
He laughed softly. “I have my ways. You impressed me. Four Reds. I am doubly intrigued about you now.”
“Are you spying on me? Can you see what I’m doing now?” I made a rude gesture.
“No, I’m not spying on you and I can’t see what you’re doing now, though I guess it to be rather rude.”
“You said four Reds. There were six.”
“Yes, but two fled during the fighting.”
How did he know all that? “All right. You have my attention. What’s going on?”
“I would
prefer to talk about this in person, if we can. Can I meet you at your house?”
This guy was either very naïve or he thought I was. “We’ll meet somewhere neutral. Somewhere public. I pick.”
“Fine.”
“The gazebo in the Botanical Gardens in the city, in one hour.”
“I’ll see you there.” And he hung up.
Crap. I hope this got me some answers.
I showered, re-dressed my wounds and then strapped on a knee brace. The blasted thing might not be hurting, but there was still damage there. If I could minimise the strain on it, I probably should.
It had been a busy couple of days and the wardrobe hadn’t been restocked yet by the washing faeries. I went with a pair of dark blue, heavy blend pants with nearly as many pockets as the cargos. They were police issue and I’d nicked them off my brother the last time I went to visit him. It was too hot to wear any sort of jacket so I went with a very dark grey shirt, all the better to hide any bulges.
Surveying my array of weapons I took a moment to mourn the loss of a life where getting ready to go out didn’t involve considering what sort of nasty I’d have to arm myself for. It was day time so no vampires, but they weren’t the only nasties in town. Some of your other garden varieties worked very well in the sunlight. On the other hand, I was meeting Aurum. I packed for human.
The SAS knife, nightstick and sexy Baretta Cougar. My brother Joe, when teaching me everything about guns, tried to force a Glock on me. They’re cool and all, but that whole no safety thing freaks me out. I have a criminal record, I can’t get a gun licence full stop, let alone one to carry concealed. Those restrictions mean I can’t really carry a gun in a proper holster that covers the trigger, like you’re supposed to with a Glock. So, if I’m stuffing something capable of blowing a hole through a wall down my pants, I want to know nothing’s going to accidentally set it off. Still, I always put the Cougar down the back of my waistband. I’d rather do without half an arse than, well, you know. Besides, the Cougar just felt like a real gun, all metal and hard, not like a plastic toy.
I let the shirt hang out over it, did a little twirl before the mirror to make sure nothing was showing and whacko, I was ready to go.
I checked on Mercy. She was dead to the world and immobile. I would have to make sure I was back before sunset. While I trusted Mercy out and about when she was fed and happy and in my presence, I wasn’t yet ready to let her out alone. On any other day, if I wasn’t going to make it home, I would have asked Roberts to check in on her. On any other day…
I made it into the city with fifteen minutes to spare, grudgingly paid eight bucks into the parking dohicky and then went to see Jacob. Wasn’t even halfway to the counter when he called out.
“Still not here.”
“Yeah, I know, you’ll call. But that’s not why I’m here.”
He closed the paperback he was reading and straightened up. Jacob spent so much time hunched over the desk it’s a wonder he wasn’t off in Paris ringing bells.
“Another social call? I’m flattered.”
“You should be. No one else is getting my attention these days. Except for a mob of Reds last night.”
“Holy ventilated vampires, Batman. Another lot? What are you doing? Declaring war on them all of a sudden?”
“Yeah, funny you should say that.” I gave him a quick rundown on all Aurum had already told me.
The black ledger came out and he began writing furiously. “This is gold, man. Where did you learn this?”
“You know the old guy that came in here looking for me? He found me.”
Jacob snapped a worried look at me. “You don’t think I told him, do you?”
“Hell, no. The guy probably just came asking here out of politeness or something. British, you know. I think he can find me whenever he wants.”
“Freaky. So who is he?”
“Not exactly sure. His name is Theodore Aurum. See what you can find out. He claimed to be part of a ‘loose circle’ of supernatural enthusiasts from all around the world.”
“Right. We always theorised they were out there. Did he give you any contact details?”
“Nope. I’ll see what I can get from him now.” I checked my watch. “I’m supposed to meet him in five. Let you know how it goes.”
He waved me away, concentrating on writing. Outside, I flipped on my sunglasses and went to meet the old fart.
The gazebo was full to bursting with professional types having a networking lunch or something, so I ambled into the shade of a big tree and leaned on the trunk, giving my leg a rest. Aurum wandered in right on the hour and came straight over. He’d given up the tweed for straight grey pinstripe; but still, a suit.
“Good afternoon, Mr Hawkins.” He looked me over from behind his own sunnies. “A bit worse for wear, but upright at least. I hope you will tell me how you took down the Reds. I understand their leader was an elder of some strength, possibly a colonel in their ranks.”
“They have ranks now?”
“Always have, my dear boy. Shall we walk?”
I hadn’t wanted to but he wasn’t going to know that. We trundled off down a walkway, heading into the lush greenery.
“So, how did you win against the Reds?”
“Careful application of planning, logic and judo.”
A grey eyebrow rose above the dark plane of his glasses.
I sighed. Why did he make me feel about twelve years old and in trouble? “Holy water paint from a paintball gun, a nightstick blessed by a priest and judo.”
The other eyebrow rose to join the first one.
“Okay, and I got mad. I don’t remember the details but the result was me on top and them goop. Isn’t that all that matters?”
“Oh my. A berserker. I haven’t encountered a true warrior of that class in, well, a very long time.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets, hunched my shoulders. “It’s not something to be proud of. It’s made me do some pretty rotten things.”
“I can well understand. A berserker capability in today’s world is a dangerous thing. Are you able to control the impulse?”
“Does seeing a therapist for anger management issues count?”
He smiled tightly. “Probably not. Did you always have this ability? Or only since you became acquainted with the world of vampires through Mercy?”
“I had it before Mercy came along.”
And that night at Kirby’s rammed through my brain like a pole axe. I nearly fell over with the force of the memory. God. I’d been such a maniac. But I could still feel it, taste it. The red hot rush of anger through my body at the sight of Jessica Harrington. So young and innocent and yet capable of such horrific, monumental damage. Little Eloisa, tiny under my hands, her chest horribly still, but I worked and worked until she coughed and choked on her own. Only to die seconds later.
