by AE Jones
Before Jean Luc could answer, Dalton’s voice called out. “Jean Luc, I could use some help in here.”
“Bring the head, Kyle.” Jean Luc flashed out of the room.
Come on! I was not getting paid enough money for this, really I wasn’t.
I snatched some newspaper out of another box, using it as a barrier between my hands and the head, then picked it up and wrapped the paper around it. Stuffing the head back into the box, I carried it in the direction of Dalton’s voice. I hurried down a hallway and found him and Jean Luc standing in front of a safe.
Before I could say a word, Jean Luc held up his hand to shush me. He leaned close to the safe, turning the dial and listening to the tumblers. I set down the cardboard box. It was amazing how heavy a head could be. A minute later the latch clicked and Jean Luc pushed down the handle, opening the safe.
A stack of papers and a small wooden box sat inside. “I think we have the key.” Jean Luc examined the box and frowned. “This box is solid. I thought Jason said Father Cowell had opened it.”
I thought back to the conversation with Jason. “No, he said that Cowell said it was empty. He didn’t say that he actually opened it.”
He handed it to me and reached back into the safe to pull out the papers. I examined the box as well. It had markings on it, but there was no seam along the box. “You’re right, I don’t see anything either.” I handed the box to Dalton. “Let’s get out of here, before someone comes back.”
I walked over to pick up Hampton’s head, but Dalton interrupted me. “Hey, this does come open, but there’s nothing in it.”
I looked back at him. He stood with two box halves in his hands. “How the hell did you do that?”
“I don’t know. It just came open.”
I caught the puzzled expression on Jean Luc’s face, but we really couldn’t take the time to ponder it now. “Bring it along so we can examine it later.”
Lifting Hampton’s head as we moved out of the room, my eyes were drawn upwards. That’s when I noticed the camera in the upper right-hand corner of the room. Not good.
Back in the car, Dalton drove and Jean Luc sat in the passenger seat paging through the documents.
“What have you got?” I asked.
“A list of names. I think they were participants from the dig in Turkey. The other pages are notes about where most of them live and work.”
I shuddered. “I wonder how many people he killed.”
“We will know more once I give this to Misha. We should go back to the office and switch cars before we go to the safe house.”
We finally arrived at the safe house an hour later. I guess I had been hanging around with Misha too long, since the Mission Impossible theme kept running through my head while we drove.
There was an unfamiliar car parked in the safe house driveway. Jean Luc flashed out of our car and we followed quickly.
As Dalton and I walked into the house, raised voices met us. In the living room, Misha and his father were having a face off. Boris’s bodyguards shifted warily while Jean Luc observed with a bemused expression.
“Father, keep it down. Jason is sleeping,” Misha hissed.
“You need to explain to me what is going on here. You are using the clan house to hide a human? Why would someone be after him?”
“He’s part of our investigation. Vampires are after him.”
“Vampires are too arrogant to even consider humans a threat. Why should they care so much?”
Misha rolled his eyes. “Now you’re insulting Jean Luc.”
Jean Luc shrugged. “I agree with his assessment. Normally most vampires are arrogant. But if a human threatens them, their arrogance will not tolerate it. Or if the human has information they may need, he does become a priority.”
Boris continued. “So, which is it?”
Jason’s voice answered from behind me. “Right now, they’re after me because I’m a thorn in their side. A gnat buzzing around them.”
Boris studied Jason as he walked further into the room. “And why are you buzzing around them? They will swat you down sooner or later.”
“I know, but they killed two friends of mine. Someone needs to make them pay.”
I wasn’t sure if I imagined it or not, but I could have sworn Boris’s face took on a look of respect. “A warrior’s code.”
“Yes.”
“And how did you meet Misha and his teammates?”
Misha stepped forward. “That’s not relevant. It’s part of an ongoing investigation.”
Jason shook his head. “Don’t, Misha. Your father deserves to know the truth. We met when I shot your son.”
Boris growled deep in his throat. The hairs on the back of my neck—hell, on every part of my body—stood at attention. In a blink of an eye, Boris’s veneer slipped. The polished leader and businessman morphed into a seething father, his eyes glowing right before they turned black as pitch. Everyone tensed. The bodyguards stepped forward to flank Jason as Boris stalked into his face. He towered over Jason a good five inches, but Jason stood his ground.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t eviscerate you right now.” Boris’s voice had dropped an octave, as if he hadn’t been scary enough already.
“If I were in your place, I would ask the same question. I have no excuse. The first demon and vampire I met tried to kill me. When I saw Misha use his powers, I struck first before he could get me. I was wrong. And on top of that, your son saved my life, knowing I was the one who almost killed him.”
After a second, Misha stepped next to Jason. Boris’s gaze moved to his son’s face. “I’ve forgiven him, Father. You cannot claim right of aggression here. That would be my choice to make, and I have chosen otherwise.”
Boris nodded tightly and stepped back. After a few seconds, his eyes returned to their usual blue. The entire group heaved a collective breath.
I cleared my throat and jumped into the fray, speaking directly to Boris. “If you have time, we could sure use your help.”
* * *
We sat at the kitchen table, passing around the two halves of the small wooden box and the safe papers so that everyone could examine them. Now that Dalton had opened the box, anyone could open and close it. Hampton’s head remained on the floor in its cardboard container. I refused to let it join us at the table.
Boris picked up the small box pieces and turned them over in his hand. “I have not heard of this key before. The writings on the box are not familiar to me either.”
“Well, Hampton, and now Sebastian, found it important enough to systematically locate and murder everyone associated with the dig where this box was discovered,” Dalton explained.
Misha chimed in, “And there was nothing else at the warehouse besides the papers, this box, and Hampton’s head?”
I shook my head. “No. Maybe they cleaned out the place after Hampton died. But there were security cameras.”
Misha’s eyes lit up. “If the cameras are wireless, we may have gotten lucky.”
“How?” I asked.
“I can hack into the system and we can watch any recorded feeds. Give me a few minutes.”
True to his word, Misha called us back into the room in twenty minutes. “I think we got something. There is no sound, but we have picture. Let me hook it up to the TV so we can all watch.”
We waited another minute until the TV screen filled with an image of the warehouse. Misha rewound the film. “The nice thing about these cameras is they are motion-sensitive, so we don’t have to wade through hours of footage with no one in the room. There are several cameras, so let me figure out which one has something interesting to watch.”
“Here’s something.” We watched the screen and saw Dalton, Jean Luc and me go through the offices and end up in the room with the safe. I watched as Jean Luc and I tried to open the box, and then Dalton opened it with ease.
Misha went through a few more minutes of footage until he came to a demon standing in one of the rooms, bent over something
on a desk. He was blue with black stripes. Sebastian stood in the corner watching the demon with fascination.
“What kind of demon is that?” I asked.
Misha grimaced. “It is similar to one of the pictures in Cowell’s journal we didn’t recognize.”
Boris leaned forward. “One of our ancients recognized that picture from her childhood. She heard stories of a powerful demon banned from earth called the Majock.”
The demon continued to block the camera’s view.
“What the hell is he doing?” I blurted.
As if in answer to my question, he backed up, and we could see Hampton’s head propped up on the table. Electrodes were attached to his face and the other ends to a machine. The demon flipped a switch and the head actually shimmied across the table.
The demon on the screen closed his eyes and concentrated. After a few minutes, he opened them and shook his head.
Sebastian stepped forward and started talking agitatedly. The demon responded, at which point Sebastian backhanded him and left the room. The demon flicked the switch again and closed his eyes. After a few minutes, he shut off the machine, and walked out of the room. Misha stopped the replay.
Jason spoke up. “What was that about?”
Boris answered him, “I think in order for the demon to attempt reading Hampton’s memory, he needed electrical impulses. Since Hampton is dead, they had to provide the impulses to bring him back to life.”
I gasped. “Good Lord, he’s trying to create a Vampenstein.”
Jason chuckled. “Or a Frankenpire.”
Misha’s eyes twinkled. “But it didn’t work.”
“Or it worked and Hampton didn’t have the information they wanted,” Dalton said. “Either way, Sebastian has to be stopped.”
Chapter 39
What a change of pace, waking up in a man’s arms. After we left the safe house, Dalton took me home and we ended up in bed again. I guess my handcuff and role-playing comments had inspired him.
I rolled over to face him. He was frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I had some really weird dreams last night, and then I woke up with a headache.”
I sat up. “Let me try something.” I placed my hands on his temples and rubbed my fingers in tiny circles. “I can probably stop those pain receptors from firing by planting a suggestion in your head if you want.”
He hesitated for a second.
“Trust me. I won’t make you cluck like a chicken or anything like that.”
“Okay.”
I concentrated and pushed a feeling of warmth and calm into his brain and he relaxed in a matter of seconds. “Thanks, I feel much better.”
I snuggled up against him. “You’re welcome.”
“How did I get so lucky?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been asking myself the same question about you.”
He watched me skeptically as if waiting for the punch line but his features changed to surprise when he realized I was serious. “And when exactly did you start feeling lucky about me?”
I thought for a moment. “In the office, the day I erased Trina’s memory.”
His mouth dropped open. “You almost took my head off that day.”
“You pissed me off because you were trying to tell me what to do, but you told me to stop using my power if it hurt me. You’re one of the only people who sees me, not my power.” I twined my fingers with his and kissed him lightly on the lips.
An hour later, Dalton went home to clean up and change before going into the office and I was on my way to work. As I drove up Murray Hill, my phone rang. It was Father Brown.
“Hello, Father.”
“Ms. Smith.”
I cringed slightly. I needed to tell him the truth about my name sooner rather than later. “Have you had any luck with the translation?”
“A little bit. I was wondering if we could get together to discuss it?”
“Sure. Let me get in touch with Dalton and we’ll meet you later.”
“Actually I called Lieutenant Dalton first but got his voice mail, so I tried you. I’m downtown. I just finished a breakfast meeting and wondered if we could meet now.”
“Sure. Where are you?”
“I’m at the Hyatt Regency.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
I hung up and tried to call Dalton, but got his voice mail as well. I left him a message to meet us at the hotel, or call me if he couldn’t get there in time. When I arrived at the hotel, I was lucky enough to find a spot on the street. I shoved a couple of quarters in the meter and entered through the door. Father Brown stood in the lobby.
“Thank you for meeting me.”
“No problem.” I looked around the busy lobby, trying to find a spot for us to sit.
“Don’t worry, there’s a small conference room that’s unoccupied at the moment. We can talk in there.” Once in the room, Father Brown sat at the head of the table and I sat beside him. He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and opened it, placing it in front of me.
“I see you’ve made some progress.”
“A few lines yes, but not all of it yet.”
I read the first stanza.
Evil thrives amongst us
Angels descend, preparing for battle
Weapon of knowledge in hand
With it the tides turn
And light will triumph
Father interjected. “I have started on the second stanza, but am not having much luck.”
“Is there any reference to a key in the stanzas? If so, does it say what it is?” I asked.
“It’s interesting you brought that up. In the third line, I struggled with the word weapon. I wasn’t sure if it was right. The other word I thought it might be was key.”
“So the key of knowledge can defeat evil?”
“If you interpret it that way, yes.”
“Then what is the key?”
“I don’t believe it is a what. I think it is a who.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The key isn’t a tangible object. It is the knowledge imparted to a person. A protector of secrets, if you will.”
My stomach twisted. “How would this be given to the person? Could it be held in some type of container, like a box?”
Father hesitated for a second before answering. “If I thought this was an actual prophesy and not one of David’s delusions, I would say this knowledge would need to be delivered by some type of holy receptacle.”
I pulled out my phone and opened a picture of the small engraved box. “Like this?”
Father’s eyes focused on the box and then up at me. “Yes. Those markings are warnings against evil.”
“So how would this box deliver the knowledge?”
“I don’t know exactly. But if it really contained the knowledge that is referenced in the prophecy, it would be protected so only the right person could access it.”
“Thanks, Father. I’ve got to go.” I stood.
“Aren’t you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you everything when I can,” I promised.
“Including your real name?”
I nodded. “Including my real name.”
I ran toward my car, goose bumps shooting down my arms. I tried Dalton’s number again, and when he didn’t pick up, I left him an urgent voicemail, praying there was some stupid, everyday reason he wasn’t answering, and not what I feared. I called the police station and left a message there as well.
I called Jean Luc and had him conference Misha and Jason into the call, filling them in on my conversation with Father Brown.
“I don’t want to sound like an emotional female, but I think something’s wrong. If Dalton has somehow absorbed this key, Sebastian will be after him.”
Misha spoke up. “I’ll see if I can triangulate Dalton’s cell phone.”
“Jean Luc, where do you think Sebastian might take him?”
“He will not take him back to the warehouse or Hampton’s loft, since he is aware that we know about both places. Let me talk to a few people and see if they have some ideas. Where are you now?”
“I’m getting on the highway to go check Dalton’s house.”
“Call again once you arrive. Misha and I will work on finding him in the meantime.”
As I drove toward his house I prayed to Dalton’s grandmother, the angels, God, anyone who chose to listen, but got squat. I drove faster.
After twenty minutes, I pulled into Dalton’s driveway. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but something wrong and heavy hung in the air. I yanked the baseball bat from under my front seat and walked around to the back of the house. The door to the kitchen was ajar. I held the bat tighter and pushed the door open slowly.
I took one step into the house and a voice called out to me, “I’m glad you were able to join us, Kyle.”
I would know Sebastian’s slimy voice anywhere. I walked into the living room. Sebastian sat in an armchair next to the fireplace. One of his vamp flunkies stepped toward me and I took a swing at him with the bat. He grabbed it out of my hands and pushed me roughly in front of Sebastian.
I turned my head and barely stopped myself from screaming. Dalton sat slumped and handcuffed to a chair. Blood ran down the side of his neck onto his chest. I rushed to him. There were no bite marks, though. The blood was coming from straends attached to the back of his neck.
“What the hell are you doing to him?”
“Trying to get answers.”
“To what?”
“I want the key. I saw the security feed. He was able to open the box.”
“And you couldn’t?”
He frowned. “No, we had given up on the box. We assumed it was some sort of talisman. It appeared to be made of solid wood.”
“What is so important about this damn key?”
“With it I can defeat the angels.”
“Really? And who told you that? Hampton?”
“When Charles first spoke of it, I dismissed it as a myth. Then one day an angel came down from heaven and lopped off his head. That’s when I decided he might be on to something. So I enlisted my own help.”
