Storm (The Storm Chronicles Book 6)

by Skye Knizley

  Levac nodded in agreement. “I’ll call Bobbie and see if she knows anything, but in the meantime we’ve got work to do.”

  “We do?”

  “Yup. Sandoval is dead, our case has become a genuine locked-room mystery and King wants answers, ASAP,” Levac said.

  “Damn. How did he die?”

  Levac pulled out his notepad. “Unknown at this time. The only visible injury was to his neck, but Pocock confirmed it was post-mortem. I put the autopsy and evidence analysis on priority, we should have something soon.”

  “Fat chance. Pocock is a slow tub of lard who sweats on everything.”

  Levac rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Cut the guy some slack. Harvey’s big, but he knows his shit. The only tech I trust more is Aspen.”

  Sable made a face. “He always smells like old gym socks.”

  Levac flipped absently through his notepad. “Raven said the same thing a few years ago. His smell doesn’t change the quality of his work.”

  “Do you have anything we can work with right now?” Sable asked.

  “Would you believe we are looking for something with serrated claws? One that can get through closed doors without leaving any trace behind.”

  “There are a few creatures, too many to choose with just that information,” Valentina said.

  “Mom’s right, that description doesn’t narrow it down much,” Sable added. “It could be anything from an ancient mummy to a bonethief.”

  Levac pulled out his pencil and made a note. “Mummies are real. Good to know. What about something that is in the city? Does that narrow it down?”

  Valentina stood and moved to the door. “Not much, Rupert. Those of a magikal bent could summon most anything, if they desired. I leave you to your work, please let me know if you hear of Raven.”

  “I’m sure she is fine, Lady Tempeste. You know Raven, she doesn’t die easily,” Levac said.

  Valentina inclined her head. “I hope you are right, Rupert. I have a bad feeling.”

  She joined Dominique in the hallway and together they walked away, leaving Levac alone with Sable.

  “So, now what?”

  Levac’s answer was interrupted by the chirp of his cellphone. He slid a thumb across the screen and pressed the speaker button. “Whatcha got, Harvey?”

  “Not much, but I put the handprint you found through AFIS like you asked. Got a hit,” Harvey replied.

  “Who?”

  “His name is Sebastian Pace.”

  Levac handed the phone to Sable and began flipping through his notepad with enough force to tear pages. “Sebastian Pace, owns Nevermore Books on 57th?”

  “I don’t know, one second,” Pocock replied.

  Levac heard him typing and then “Yep, that’s the one. The print is definitely his. It looks like he’s on file because he’s got a pistol permit.”

  “So no police record,” Sable said.

  “’Fraid not, Ray,” Pocock said.

  “This is Agent Tempeste not Agent Storm,” Sable snapped.

  Levac could hear Pocock’s shrug. “My bad, Agent Tempeste, you two sound exactly alike. I’ll call you if anything else comes up, let me know if you find out how his print got onto the back of a mirror, I’m curious.”

  The call ended and Levac pocketed the phone. “Feel like going on a field trip?”

  Sable tossed the handkerchief into the wastebasket. “Why not? I haven’t killed anything all day.”

  Levac led the way out of the room and down the stairs. “I’m hoping we won’t have to kill anyone. If this pans out, maybe we can actually just arrest someone for a change.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it. Most badguys like the ones we go after don’t come quietly,” Sable said.

  Levac had to admit, she was right. And he had no idea where they would incarcerate them even if they did come quietly. How did you lock up someone who could bend the bars to any cell, kick off the doors and mesmerize people?

  He picked up his soggy scarf and looked at it ruefully. Sloan had made it over the course of several weeks and he loved it, but the heavy blue wool took forever to dry. He put it back on the rack for later and turned back to Sable.

  “I’ve noticed. But I can always hope. Ready?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but we aren’t taking your car out in that snow. I’ll grab an SUV from the garage,” Sable replied.

  Levac frowned as he remembered his Nash was still stuck at the end of the driveway. “Yeah…that’s probably best. I’ll meet you out front.”

  Sable hurried away and Levac stepped out into the snow. The storm was slowing, but still managing to dump a mix of snow and ice on the city. On the one hand, it was going to be a white Christmas. On the other, snow brought out psychopaths just as easily as the full moon.

  While he waited, he dialed King’s number. It was answered on the third ring.

  “Agent Daniels.”

  Levac didn’t recognize the voice, it was feminine and somewhat husky. “This is Agent Levac, is King available?”

  “Hi, Rupert. No, I’m sorry, I’ve made him take a few hours’ rest. Can I take a message?” Daniels asked.

  “Let him know we’ve got a lead in the Sandoval case. I also have news on Raven, when he’s available. He might be able to shed some light on her situation,” Levac replied.

  “I certainly will. Is that all, Rupert?” Daniels asked.

  Levac hesitated, then asked, “Have we met?”

  “Yes, and then no. You met me during an investigation about a year ago, now.”

  Levac thought for a moment. “Silver Daniels?”

  Daniels’ laugh had a musical quality to it. “Indeed, the one and the same. You could say I am Abraham’s caretaker.”

  “That explains a lot. That’s all, I will be in touch if this plays out,” Levac said.

  “Very good, Rupert. Stay warm.”

  The call ended and a black Land Rover SUV rounded the driveway from the direction of the garage. It was a sleek vehicle that screamed speed, with its wide, low-profile tires, throaty exhaust sound and side-pipes. It slid to a halt a few feet away and Sable leaned out the driver’s window.

  “The meter’s running, let’s go, partner.”

  Levac looked at the Land Rover then back at Sable. “Couldn’t we take something a little less Fast and Furious? What about your dad’s Ford?”

  “No. Get in or stay here.”

  Levac raised his hands in surrender and walked around the vehicle. He climbed in on the passenger side and the Land Rover took off like it had been shot from a cannon. He tried to hold onto the safety bar and buckle his seatbelt at the same time, which resulted in tethering himself, however momentarily, to the dashboard.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Levac pulled the seatbelt free and tried again. “Trying to keep from dying, could you slow down a little?”

  “Not even a little, just sit back and tell me where we’re going,” Sable replied.

  “57th, about halfway down. You’re looking for Nevermore Books.”

  “Bookstores are closed, Rupert.”

  Levac shoved the seatbelt closed and leaned back, feeling sick. “Probably. But this is one of those weird bookstores like the Curiosity Shoppe in Old Town. He keeps odd hours, is a millionaire and lives above the store in the penthouse suite. Rumor has it, he even has his own private security guards to protect his book collection.”

  Sable shifted gears and rounded Levac’s stalled Nash without slowing. Snow swirled around them and made that peculiar hushing noise that only fresh snow makes. “Sounds insane. I wouldn’t pay to protect a pile of paper.”

  Levac held the safety bar like it was his lifeline, which, considering how Sable drove, it very well might have been. “What would you pay to protect?”

  The Land Rover slid sideways through
the next intersection and accelerated toward the not so distant city. “There isn’t much I can’t protect on my own. If I needed it I guess I would protect my place on Block Island. It’s about the only thing I own, besides the Jag.”

  Levac was impressed. “You have a house out on Block Island?”

  Sable gave him side-eye. “Why so surprised?”

  “You just don’t seem the beach type. Raven only goes once a year and ends up wearing SPF1000 the whole time.”

  “I guess that is one more difference. I love the beach. I burn, probably just as bad as she does, but it is worth it to feel the sand between my toes and not have to carry a weapon,” Sable said.

  She changed lanes again and accelerated around a slower-moving vehicle that was having trouble with the snow. Levac watched the little Honda go by and looked back at Sable.

  “It’s a difference, but also something the same. Raven craves an opportunity to hang up her pistol, even for a little while. Every time she tries, she gets called back out again.”

  Sable didn’t comment, she just kept driving and Levac let the silence grow even as the city followed suit. Soon they were downtown dodging snow-plows and the psychotic few braving the weather. The city looked as if it had been covered in cotton and glitter, dotted here and there with dirty snowbanks pushed aside by the plows. It shone and glittered beneath the street lights and looked fresh, clean. Levac always liked the city after a good snow. Even the most hardened of criminals were softened and driven indoors by the bitter cold and deep, pristine white. That would change once the storm was over and the sun had risen, but for now the city was peaceful.

  “We’ve picked up a tail,” Sable said.

  Her voice was like lead, cold and heavy. Levac looked over his shoulder and saw nothing but one of the city plows, big, blue and lit up with orange high-visibility lights. “I don’t see anything.”

  “How can you miss it? It’s huge!”

  Levac looked at her. “The plow?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, the plow. It has turned each time I have, and in case you hadn’t noticed, the plow isn’t actually touching the street.”

  Levac looked back and saw she was right, the plow was up instead of down and there was only one person in the cab instead of the usual two.

  “Why would a plow be following us?”

  Sable drifted the Land Rover down an alley and accelerated. Snow-filled garbage cans crumpled against the big vehicle’s push bar and fell away as it passed. “How should I know? I’m usually the one doing the following.”

  The snowplow slid past the mouth of the alley and Levac smiled, certain that Sable had been mistaken. Then it backed up and started down the alley, its sides sending showers of sparks behind as the dump-body ripped chunks out of the buildings to either side.

  “I think you’re right, its following us.”

  “You think?” Sable snarled. “You know the city better than I do, we need to get somewhere it can’t go before it runs us over.”

  Levac turned back forward and ducked as another garbage can bounced off the pushbar and flew over the Land River’s roof.

  “Jesus! Okay, sure, why don’t you let me drive?”

  “You want me to stop with that thing behind us?” Sable asked.

  Levac glanced at the rearview mirror. If objects in the mirror were closer than they appeared, the plow was almost on top of them.

  “Maybe not. Take a right at the next street, then left.”

  Sable pulled the handbrake and sent the Land Rover into a slide the moment they entered the next intersection. The engine screamed in protest and the SV lurched forward the minute she let go. Levac fought to keep his stomach in place when they rounded the next curve and headed down a shallow incline at breakneck speed. Even Raven wasn’t this insane in the snow. But they were gaining distance on the plow, which was more lumbering beast than speed demon.

  “Turn right at the light,” he said.

  “That’s back toward home,” Sable protested.

  “It’s also toward the only place I can think of where we can get some cover, unless you have a better idea!” Levac yelled back.

  Sable didn’t answer, she was too busy keeping the Land Rover from sliding out of control. Levac had to admit, whatever her faults, she was an excellent driver. Insane. But excellent nonetheless.

  The snowplow appeared in the mirror again, gaining speed as it followed them down the hill. It seemed far faster than an ordinary plow. More agile, as well. He was interested in finding out how that was possible, if they survived this.

  “Which way?” Sable asked.

  “Just keep going, I will tell you when I see it.”

  “Marvelous,” Sable muttered.

  The crossed beneath a yellow flashing light at the next intersection and Levac was surprised to see two police cars pull out behind them. At first he thought they were going to give chase, but instead they blocked the snowplow’s path.

  “Did you call for backup?” he asked.

  Sable glanced at him. “What am I, psychic, now?”

  Levac grinned at her. “Well, you were in Raven’s head, maybe you developed some new abilities you hadn’t shared yet. You Storms are always surprising me.”

  Sable looked exasperated. “No, Rupert, I didn’t call for backup. Someone must have noticed they had an out of control plow and called Metro.”

  “I like the whole psychic theory better, but you’re probably right.”

  Behind them, the snowplow had crashed through the roadblock, leaving one police car on its side in a snowbank and the other severely damaged. As Levac watched, it exploded in a cloud of steel and glass that broke windows on both sides of the street.

  “Damn. We have to stop this thing!”

  Sable blew hair out of her eyes and fought with the Land Rover’s steering. “One thing at a time, Rupe. Where the hell am I going?”

  “At the bottom of this hill, turn left again. It will take us into the parking garage, it has low ceilings where that thing can’t go,” he said.

  Sable acknowledged him with a nod and Levac saw the hint of a smile on her face. He held on as she sent the SUV into another wild turn and accelerated through the parking garage entrance and up the ramp. For once there was no need to get a ticket, most garages were open to the public during snowstorms to keep vehicles off the street. Sable pulled into a spot at the top of the ramp and Levac climbed out, weapon in hand. The plow, apparently undamaged by its collision with the two police cars, slowed and stopped at the bottom of the ramp. Levac could see the driver inside, looking at them with the eyes of a dead man. The plow lurched forward and collided with the structure, making it shake.

  Sable stopped next to him and drew her revolver. “You don’t think he’ll—”

  The truck lurched again and the parking garage shook with the impact. Then the truck started to force its way into the ramp with a sound like the angels of hell screaming in anger. Metal tore, concrete crumbled and the truck moved toward them, inch by inch. Sable raised her revolver and fired two shots into the driver’s head. And still the truck kept coming.

  “I thought you knew how to use that thing!” Levac yelled.

  He raised his own ten-millimeter pistol and fired four perfectly-aimed rounds that each punched through the driver’s skull. The driver’s head lolled uselessly, held in place only by a few threads of sinew and spine. But the truck didn’t stop. The powerful diesel engine roared and the dump-body tore, taking chunks of concrete with it.

  “Fuck this!”

  Sable ran toward the truck and Levac felt her call on her vampire. One moment she was as human as anyone, the next she was a master vampire in full fury. He watched as she tore off the truck’s door and pulled the driver out like he was nothing more than an oversized doll. She threw him into the wall where he left a bloody imprint then reached back inside the truck. There we
re horrible tearing noises from inside and the truck’s engine died with one final rattle and a plume of diesel exhaust. Levac holstered his pistol and arrived at Sable’s side just in time to catch her and lower her to the concrete.

  “Let me guess. You haven’t fed,” he said.

  Sable shook her head. “Blood is gross, I don’t feed.”

  Levac sat beside her. “You do know your powers are fueled by—”

  The look she gave him made him stop talking. “Right, of course you know. So, do you carry any?”

  Sable shook her head. She was pale and looked weaker even than Raven after using her abilities. Levac helped her up and half carried her back to the SUV.

  “Lucky for you, the family vehicles usually have a stash.”

  He set her in the passenger seat and rummaged in the back, where he found a dry-ice cooler with a bottle of Claret and four glasses. He ignored the glasses and handed the bottle to Sable, who looked at it with disgust.

  “I don’t want this shit!”

  Levac shrugged. “You can feed or you can sit here the rest of the night. It’s your decision, I’m going to go call this in.”

  He left her there and walked back down the ramp to where the driver lay. There wasn’t much left of his head, just a mass of torn flesh and crushed bone, somehow still attached to the spine. The name on his shirt was ‘Smitty.’ He looked like a perfectly normal city works driver. But normal people didn’t run over police or chase people into parking structures.

  He pulled out his phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. Lieutenant Mauser wasn’t going to be happy, but weird cases were weird cases and this was shaping up in the top ten. They needed answers and the night wasn’t getting any younger.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  North Atlantic, Crescent Star: Unknown

  Raven and the rest of the team had gathered the remains of their gear and salvaged what they could from the wreck of the Osprey, which hadn’t amounted to more than a few boxes of ammunition and a pair of somehow undamaged grenades, then moved back into the portside corridor. By Aspen’s reckoning, they had less than five hours to reach the engine room and shut them down before the strike force sank the ship with them onboard.