by C. J. Pinard
“Attention, everyone! I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” the Chief said with a strong but shaky voice, “but I guess there is no easy way to say this. Detective Johnson has unfortunately succumbed to his injuries this morning and passed away at San Francisco General. The funeral is Friday at two p.m. at St. Francis Church.”
You could hear a pin drop in the room. Joseph dropped his head and crossed himself, saying a small prayer for the poor soul who was Detective Richard Johnson.
On Friday, as Joseph was leaving work after a long week and a sad funeral, he was again approached in the dark parking lot. This time, it was both Bianchi and Swift together leaning against his old Chevy.
“Hi, boys. I can guess what you two want.” He let out a sigh.
“Of course, Mr. O’Malley. Have you thought about our offer? The paperwork is ready to go. You can start Monday; you won’t even miss a paycheck. And we promise, that paycheck will be at least double what you’re making now. The government has given the BSI a very large budget and we need good, experienced men such as yourself.”
Joseph looked at them for a long minute. The pay was appealing. But then he shook himself out of that thought. “I’m sorry, boys. I am not leaving the SFPD. I have seen enough weirdness over the last year to last me a lifetime,” he smiled weakly at them.
Bianchi looked at Swift, and Swift nodded.
“Well, we had a feeling you would turn us down. We do, however, have another proposition for you,” Bianchi commented, pausing for effect.
“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” Joseph asked, fumbling with his car keys.
“Because of the untimely death of Detective Johnson, we have suddenly found ourselves in need of another Supernatural Liaison with the San Francisco Police Department,” Bianchi replied with a charming smile.
Joseph was stunned into silence. He sat staring at the two strange agents, memories of Johnson’s sometimes – no always – strange behavior. He thought of the photographs Johnson had showed him of the shifter in the alley. Where had he gotten those from? He thought of how he drank excessively and was constantly acting secretive. He thought of how he never had a wife around, never spoke of any children. He thought of how he ran, unafraid, out to those shapeshifters, guns drawn, losing his life to one of them.
He knew there was only one way to honor Johnson’s memory.
“I’ll do it,” was his reply. “Is there any pay?”
“Yes, you will get what we call contractor pay. You won’t be on our payroll, but will work as kind of a side contractor for the federal government. Trust me, it’s a win-win for you, Detective O’Malley,” Agent Swift said.
Joseph asked, “What is it I have to do?”
It was Tony who answered, “It’s a bit sensitive. Come down to the Hyde Street bank building in two weeks and we will discuss everything in detail.” He finished by handing Joseph a business card with the Hyde Street address.
“Do you know where the building is?” Swift asked.
Joseph smiled ironically and replied, “Oh, yes, I know exactly where that is.”
Chapter 11
∞∞∞
Portland, Oregon – Present Day
“Let’s go,” Jonathan said, getting up from the sofa.
“Where are we going?” asked Kathryn, also rising to stand. She was wearing black fatigues, just like the boys.
Jonathan eyed her up and down, then answered, “We’re heading to Night Crawlers. I doubt Pascal will be there, but I promise you he’ll have a few cronies hanging around. Lilly can ID them. Isn’t that right?” he asked, facing Lillian.
“Oh, yeah. Let’s go,” Lillian said.
“What about Malina and Serina?” Thomas asked.
Malina answered for him. “We’ll be fine, Tom. I’ve already got a protection spell around the house. It’s been glamoured from humans and, well, everyone. We came here in a portal; I doubt that disgusting vampire or his filthy girlfriend could find it again. They ran away so fast anyway,” she finished with a grin.
“I don’t like this, boss,” Thomas said, looking at Jonathan.
Jonathan looked over Thomas’s shoulder at Malina. She just shook her head at him.
Jonathan looked back at Thomas. “It’s okay, Tom, really. This isn’t the first time we’ve dealt with this. And I’ve seen what a protection glamour spell can do. Let’s go to the car. I’ll show you.”
Thomas and Lillian gave Malina a quick hug goodbye and walked out to the car.
As soon as they got to the car, Jonathan said to them, “Turn around.”
All three of them turned around and saw absolutely nothing. Just miles of marsh and wetlands. You could barely make out a small shimmer in the air, but otherwise, they could not see the sylphs’ house at all. It was gone.
“Amazing,” Kathryn breathed.
The four of them made their way back to the Murphy Architecture building, heading down to the parking garage to exchange their sports car for an unmarked white cargo van.
Kathryn parked the van around the back of the club. The four Immortals walked up to the two human bouncers at the front door. The bouncers were in tight black T-shirts bearing the club logo, which was basically a large set of vampire teeth, with “Night Crawlers” written on the teeth. Both bouncers had their arms folded. One was chewing gum.
The one without the gum eyed Jonathan and Thomas speculatively in their SWAT gear and said, “I’m gonna have to pat you down if you want to get in here. This ain’t Halloween, unless you guys are real cops?” he finished with a laugh.
“No, we’re not cops. And no you’re not going to pat us down. We’re not here to party; we just need to see Pascal.”
Gum-chewer walked over to Jonathan and went nose-to-nose with him. Which wasn’t easy, since Jonathan stood about six-foot-four.
“Pascal ain’t here, Blondie. Now take you and your cop wannabe friend and your two bimbos and get the hell out of here before I call the real cops!” He spat a little as he spoke… gum and all.
Jonathan didn’t say a word. He grabbed gum-chewer and picked him up by the neck and slammed him against the brick wall, knocking him unconscious. A puff of brick powder rained down on him.
At the same time, Thomas had flashed over to the other bouncer and sucker-punched him in the face at supernatural speed. He too fell to the ground in a heap.
Lillian and Kathryn just looked at each other and laughed. The four of them stepped over the men and walked coolly into the club. The thudding bass was deafening.
Lillian yelled over the music to Jonathan. “Up there,” she pointed into the balcony, “that’s where Pascal and Angel were last time I was here.”
They all headed for the balcony and climbed the spiral staircase on up. They were immediately met by Mike the Meathead and Joshua.
“You guys can’t be up here, private party only…” Joshua started. Then he spied Lillian and said, “Oh hey, hottie! You came back. I tried calling you but the number didn’t work.” He made a fake pouting face. He then turned to Mike, “It’s cool, man. She was here before, remember?”
Mike just shook his head and walked back over to the chairs. This time, Darius was sitting where Pascal had sat before. He had a beautiful Hispanic human woman sitting on his lap, and he was feeding. He did not notice the Immortals.
Thomas couldn’t believe Joshua didn’t recognize him. He was sure Joshua was one of the vampires who he’d burned with the UV flashlight when they had come to the warehouse the night they were rescuing Serina. He really is dumber than he looks, he thought.
“Oh, that. Well some creep was stalking me and I had to change it,” Lillian lied with a smile on her lips, twirling her hair. “Can you get me a drink? A Cosmo?” She wanted him distracted and out of the way – which she knew wouldn’t be hard.
Joshua smiled. “Sure! You want something?” he asked Kathryn.
She just shook her head.
He then walked over to the edge of the balcony, leaned over, and yelled, “Yo, Jac
k… one Cosmo up here, a-sap!” He jabbed a finger at Lillian.
Classy, Kathryn thought.
Jack looked up, smiling, and gave a thumbs-up.
“And who’s your friend?” Joshua asked, eyeing Kathryn up and down in her fatigues. “That’s not really club wear, babe. You have nice boobs, you should show them off,” he finished, sipping his beer without taking his eyes off her.
“Really, Lilly?” Kathryn looked at her, then him, rolled her eyes, and walked to where Jonathan and Thomas were standing.
Thomas was tapping Darius on the shoulder as Kathryn walked over.
“What the f–” Darius started to say, but then looked up and saw who it was. He threw the woman off his lap and she landed on the floor with a woozy smile on her face, not bothering to try and get up. Two bloody dots could be seen oozing from her neck.
“Feeding from humans? There’s violation number one, Darius. Number two, I need to know where Pascal and Angel are right now, or your ass is coming with us. And I’m not playing, either.” Thomas placed his hand on his pistol.
Darius let out a sinister laugh and wiped away the blood from the corner of his mouth with his right knuckle. He then licked it. “Pascal said you idiot cops were going to come looking for him. And he told me to tell you this.” Darius turned his body toward Jonathan and simply lifted his middle finger right into Jonathan’s face.
Before anyone knew what was happening, Darius was flying over the balcony and onto the dance floor – but he never landed. Thomas had flashed down there and caught him by the neck and pinned him up against the wall. The dance floor cleared quickly as all the humans and young vampires began to shuffle out the door in an unorganized panic. Some were screaming.
Thomas let him go, but Jonathan quickly picked him back up and was holding him by the throat against the wall. Darius’s feet were dangling above the ground. He was panting and clawing at Jonathan’s hands.
Kathryn was standing next to him, staring at him. What she heard from Darius’s head was: I am so not dying tonight for Pascal! Screw his old English ass! He wouldn’t stick his neck out for me!
What Darius actually squeaked out was, “I don’t know where he is, man. He’s usually here every night and tonight he’s just not. He didn’t tell me where he was going. Angel either. They’re probably getting it on in his sports car somewhere or something, dude. Let me go, you freak! I can’t frickin’ breathe!”
“He’s lying,” Kathryn sneered, narrowing her eyes at Darius.
Suddenly, Mike rushed over and attempted to put hands on Jonathan. But Thomas was faster and he pushed Mike to the ground, where he went sliding on his back across the wood dance floor. Thomas flashed over to him and had a gun in his mouth before anyone could say “Twilight.”
“Stay down, or you’ll get a throatful of UV light. Is that what you want, Mike?”
Mike just shook his head, his hands laid out by his shoulders against the floor in surrender.
Upstairs, Lillian had her own gun focused on Joshua. She had pushed him to the ground and had a foot on his chest. While they were both about equal in strength, Lillian was much older. Plus, she had the gun. Joshua was screaming obscenities at her.
“You get one more chance to tell us where Pascal and Angel are, or I will start shooting you with UV bullets, starting here,” Jonathan said. He took his gun and jabbed it into Darius’s crotch while keeping his hand on his throat.
“All right, all right,” Darius wheezed. “He said something about heading to the vortex.”
∞∞∞
“You need to calm down, Angel!” Pascal had never been so panicked.
“Get it out, please!” Angel sobbed.
The UV bullet was lodged into her back. It had pierced her lung and she was coughing up blood.
They were in some strange old factory. Since they had arrived at the wetlands via portal, Pascal had no idea where they were. He didn’t even know if they were still in Oregon, but he didn’t have time to figure it out at the moment. After running for what seemed like miles while carrying Angel, he was spent. He had barely managed to call Darius and warn him about the Immortals that were most likely going to come to the club asking for him.
Pascal had managed to find an old dusty drafting table and had laid her face down on it. He gingerly set the towel full of vials on the floor next to it, then spied the damage to her back. It was shredded on the right side.
“A regular bullet should not be hurting you this bad. You should have already coughed it up and be on your way to healing by now,” Pascal said.
“It can’t be a regular bullet, baby,” she cried, wheezing up more blood. It splattered out in blackish-red dots all over the dusty table.
Pascal pulled his belt off and told her to bite on it. It was a good thing the factory was empty, and that it was the middle of the night, because the agonizing scream Angel let out when Pascal dug his fingers into her wound to fish out the bullet could probably be heard for miles. It was met with a dog’s howl somewhere outside.
“Bloody UV bullets!” he hissed as he tossed it away. “Thought they were just an urban legend.” He shook his hand as his fingers were smoking where he had touched the bullet.
Angel then passed out.
∞∞∞
San Francisco – 1947
“The movers are here,” Adam Swift said, yanking his suit jacket off the back of chair and heading out to the front of their small Bush Street building. He replaced the derby he had been wearing earlier back onto his head. He plucked a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket as he walked.
Tony Bianchi followed him out.
A large white moving truck was backing up noisily to their front door, ready to load what little furniture they had and move it into the new building.
Bianchi chatted briefly with the movers, handed one of them a business card with the new address, and then he and Swift got into their government-issued car and drove away.
“Hello, how can I help you?” Kathryn asked before fully looking up from her magazine at the reception desk.
Tony Bianchi was momentarily speechless. He had never seen such beautiful blue eyes before. Kathryn’s hair was pinned up neatly, as always, and she had on a pink suit and pink high heels. Her lip gloss was subtle but made her lips shine.
Kathryn couldn’t speak. Her pretty mouth parted halfway open. Tony Bianchi took her breath away. The man was a poster boy for tall, dark, and handsome.
The eye-lock between them seemed to last an eternity, but in reality, it wasn’t more than five seconds before Adam Swift cleared his throat and looked sideways at Tony, then back at Kathryn.
“Hello, miss. We are the new tenants of the sixth floor.” He pulled out his billfold and produced I.D. “U.S. Department of Justice. We’ll be leasing the whole floor.”
Kathryn got up, eyed Tony briefly, then said to Adam, “Sure, we’ve been expecting you. Let me show you the way.” She went to the elevator and pushed the call button and it responded with a steely shrill. She couldn’t ignore the electric thrill she felt standing so close to Tony.
They waited in silence for the elevator to show. As the two men got in, she reached inside the elevator car and around Tony to push the sixth floor button, and then informed them she couldn’t leave the reception desk.
“But I’ll be here when you boys get done looking around up there.” She winked at Tony as she forcefully closed the grate to the elevator. She then stood and watched it disappear on up.
Shaking herself back into reality, she walked back to her desk, picked up the clunky black phone, and dialed Jonathan. “They’re here,” was all she needed to say.
“I’ll be right down.”
Jonathan took the elevator down to the sixth floor and exited. He saw two men standing in the hallway, talking at the entrance of one of the offices. Both men whirled around when they heard the elevator bell.
He walked confidently and purposefully over to the two men, putting out his hand. “Hello, gentlemen. I’m
Jonathan Murphy, I own and manage the building.”
“Agent Anthony Bianchi.” He shook Jonathan’s hand, suppressing a grin.
“Agent Adam Swift,” he said, switching his hat to his left hand so he could use his right to shake.
“It’s nice to meet you both. I was happy to hear the government was interested in leasing a floor here in my building. Is there anything special you’ll need outfitted into the offices?” Jonathan asked. He was trying to be cordial but he was really more curious about what the government – specifically, the Justice Department – needed with such a large space.
“No, this is perfect, thank you,” Adam replied. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head over to the balcony.” He indicated the pack of cigarettes in his hand.
Both men watched Special Agent Swift disappear down the hall and into the last office at the end of the hall.
When he was out of sight, Tony pulled Jonathan into a huge bear hug. “How you been, old friend? It’s been, what, fifty years?”
“At least!” Jonathan said, laughing. “I had no idea you were in San Francisco, man. Do you really work for the government?”
“Yes. And get this. The Feds have an entire agency devoted to the supernatural.” He pulled out his I.D. and handed it to Jonathan.
Jonathan eyed it curiously and looked up at Tony. “The Bureau of Supernatural Investigation? You’re joking.”
“No way, man. Dead serious. The government knows lots about vamps and shifters. I was a part of the Seattle coven up until a year ago, when J.D., the new coven leader, got wind of a new government project. He sent me to go apply for a job there so we could know what they know, help us do our job, or at least keep the Feds from finding out everything – if you know what I mean,” Tony finished.
This was very interesting indeed, Jonathan thought. There was no way the government could get wind of the Immortals. They had to remain secret.
