Viola blinked back tears as she thought about the recent past. “Do it,” she rasped to Dustin. She kept her vision focused on the street below.
Minutes later she heard a cough. Slowly she turned to see the naked form of the dead werewolf, Sebastian. She blinked away her tears. “Say nothing,” she hoarsely stated to Dustin as she moved towards her bedroom. She began shedding her clothes. “Just come,” she softly commanded.
The transformed shape-shifter nodded and followed her to the bedroom.
Things Develop
“Of all the godforsaken places he had to pick here to meet,” Thierry, Duc du le Englete grumbled as he gingerly walked among the scattered dirt and debris of the Sunset Park 68th Police Station in Brooklyn. When he first approached the Romanesque Revival building he had been slightly impressed. In the dim illumination of the full moon, the façade of the massive structure had a certain European charm with its mixture of Venetian and Byzantine elements. Even with all the scaffolding around it, the moonlight gave the red brick exterior a certain romantic quality. The abandoned place had seemed, at first, to be the perfect spot for him to meet his New York City contact.
Once Thierry had entered the station his view drastically changed. The interior was a shambles. Its entire second floor had collapsed. The first floor was in no better condition with warped wooden slats in certain areas and dangerous holes in others. The place was filthy with its relics of a bygone time. Thierry, as one of the spies who worked for Paris’s supernatural community, had been in many unique places but this one was by far the worse. The forty-eight year-old slightly gray haired, French warlock sniffed with displeasure as the scents of feces and urine wafted about in the damp air of the deserted rooms. “He or she had best come to meet me here very soon,” he grunted as he watched a trio of rats crawl out of a pile of refuse to inspect the new arrival. Suddenly he heard a noise come from the outside of the ruined station. He tensed as a dark figure appeared from a space where there had once been a wooden door.
“It is alright,” the figure gruffly said as he, for it clearly was a man’s voice, moved toward the Parisian agent. “I have come to give you the latest intelligence on New York’s City’s planned counter attacks.” The figure cackled with glee as he said these words. “This is going to fuck Jean-Claude,” the man vehemently muttered. “Yes, fuck him good,” he suddenly laughed.
Thierry gazed at the dark robed and masked figure standing a few feet from him. The Parisian agent suppressed an urge to shudder. He may be a spy but he never forgot the tawdriness of his work. He took no pleasure in betrayals even if such things were his profession’s raison d’être. “As usual I assume we will reward you at a later time for your services to our cause,” he stated as he took the papers from the man.
The disguised figure smirked. “I do what I do for no reward other than to help your side and to fuck that wolf,” the man said as he moved to exit the room. He swiftly went out the same way he had entered leaving Thierry alone in the deserted structure.
Thierry glanced over the writings and then placed them inside an inner pocket. The spy doubted the man was so altruistic. I wonder what his game is or even if he acts alone, the Parisian mused as he took a perfumed handkerchief from under his ruffled sleeve and sniffed it. Such a foul smelling place yet so obviously suitable for foul deeds, he pondered as he made his way towards an exit. He glanced about the ruin and shook his head. “Pitiful place,” he muttered. Suddenly over a dozen armed men in black jumpsuits invaded the room from everywhere.
“Halt you are under arrest,” one of the men yelled.
Thierry quickly evaluated the odds and raised his hands. His strong Gallic features betrayed no emotion.
The leader of the group stepped forward as another member of the group, a woman, bound the spy’s hands behind his back. Before the spy could react she gave him a hypo shot as well.
“What is that you just gave me?” he anxiously asked as his body tingled.
“Just a little something our local wizards developed, she said. “Eliminates your magical abilities for a month or more. Think of it as being castrated … magically of course,” she snorted with amusement.
The French warlock was decidedly not finding any of this to be funny. He had surrendered thinking he’d later use his abilities to escape. Instead, he realized, he was screwed but good.
“You are under arrest for spying. We are part of the security forces for our city,” the man who first spoke said to Thierry. “It will go easier if you tell us everything about that other man who you just met. He managed to slip through our lines but we do have you,” he said.
Thierry’s face took on an amused look. He shook his head as if he was finding the whole incident to be rather amusing. He coolly focused his brown eyes on the man in front of him. “I am descended from nobility young man,” he snickered. “Do you think one of my kind would yield to you anything of worth? My boy you should know blue bloods never succumb to threats,” he chuckled as he gazed at the man and then at his forces.
A curious smile came over the force’s leader he glanced around at the members of his security team. “Well everyone we have a real blue-blood here. I don’t know about you but I’m curious if they taste different than your average red-blooded humans.” The other members of the squad laughed in a chilling manner. “Since he refuses to help us, I guess there is no sense in having to bother with the hassles of taking care of him as our prisoner. Anyone else in the mood for some fine French cuisine tonight?”
To Thierry’s shock everyone around him suddenly moved closer towards him. Their eyes went dark and fangs extended. To his horror he realized he had foolishly taunted a squad of vampires. As they moved closer he yelled. The nearby rats heard the noises and quickly scurried back into the piles of feces and other garbage.
****
In Paris, Henri Roué nervously paced about in his townhouse. “Word has reached me our agent was arrested yesterday. If Thierry talks we will lose our connection there,” he angrily said to his wife. “Even if he only reveals what he might have seen here and it gets back to our allies, we are finished.”
Hélène Roué shrugged. “He knows nothing we need be concerned about mon cherie. Nothing about the person he was sent to meet and,” she stated in a sharper tone, “he knows nothing about our family either. If you will feel better I will send out an assassin to kill him assuming that he is not dead already.” She walked to an ornate serving cart and picked up a glass. “Oh this is upsetting. We have run out of champagne,” she sighed as she pulled out an empty bottle from its ice bucket.
Henri gazed at her cold beauty. She is truly bloodless, he thought as he sat down in a chair near the fireplace in their ornately furnished parlor. Thierry had been a guest in their home on numerous occasions yet his wife talked about terminating him with no hint of concern about doing it. It was as if their old friend was an annoying fly she would casually swat out of their existence. “No there is no need for such a drastic act,” he replied. His wife smiled at him. Dear goddess she will kill him anyway if she can get away with it, he realized. He wanted to say more but he found himself helpless to fight with her.
Hélène gazed at her husband and wondered why she had mated with such a pathetic man. I will talk to Sebastian about poor Thierry. First I have to put up with Thierry’s capture and now no champagne to drink. This is truly an irritating day.
****
Over in New York City two other men were having a similar conversation about the captured French agent.
“Are you sure he did not see your face?” The taller of the two anxiously inquired.
The diminutive robed figure nodded. “He knows nothing about me. We are safe sir.”
The first speaker’s face grew somber. “He had the plans you gave him, you idiot,” he yelled. “Now they have them. Do you not realize they can be traced back to a small group?”
The smaller figure said nothing in reply. Long experience had taught him that being quiet with his emplo
yer was the best course of action.
The other person finally sighed with impatience. “We must lie low for now,” he grumbled. He glared at the man who worked for him. “I do not blame you for this debacle. Just go.”
The underling bowed and swiftly exited leaving the taller one to sit and fume about the changed circumstances.
****
“You mean that idiot actually believed you were going to drain him of his blood?” a grinning Julio said to the squad leader whose team had brought in a badly shaken Thierry. The security chief sat at his office desk holding the papers he had been given by the youthful officer who had lead the arresting force.
The young vampire laughed. “Well we all got pretty close to him but yeah,” he smiled. “The idiot really thought we were going to drain him because he quickly broke. He was so petrified he gave up the papers and told us whatever we asked. Unfortunately his information is not very helpful. He never met his contact before tonight and only saw the guy in shadows. His description about this second guy could fit anyone.”
Julio shook his head. “Damn,” he grunted. Things had not gone as well as Julio hoped. Thanks to Dexter ‘s surreptitiously ability to tap into the American Homeland Security’s database they had been alerted to Thierry’s visit from the second he boarded a plane in Paris. Following him had been easy once the Parisian agent had arrived. They had hoped the Frenchman would contact the source of their leak. He had done so but it all went awry. They had closed their net too late and Thierry’s contact had slipped out of their grasp.
“Well at least we stopped one leaked report” Julio said. He opened the papers and read them. His features grew grim. “Son-of-a-bitch!” he yelled as he threw them down upon the table. His eyes went dark and parts of his fangs showed from his upper mouth.
The squad leader stayed perfectly silent. He could tell his chief was mad. He knew his best strategy right now was not to draw any further attention to his presence.
Julio looked up at the man. He noticed the young man’s concerned look. The security chief let his vampire nature relax. “You did well,” he briskly stated. “Hold him in isolation. You may go now.”
The squad officer saluted and happily left the room.
Julio stared over at a medieval painting of his wife and son that hung on the wall by his desk. He sighed. “These papers are … the plans they relate,” he mumbled out to the silent images. “Only Jean-Claude and a few others knew about them.” He let out a deep breath. “The traitor is high up in our executive ranks,” he growled as he slammed his fist onto his desktop. This fact was a serious threat. Julio realized that, thanks to Louie Gee leading the efforts among the city’s magical residents, New York was currently deflecting any new-enchanted attacks. But that situation could change in a flash if Paris’s mystical community figured out the precise spells being used by Louie Gee and his fellow magicians and countered them. More troubling, Louie had told both Julio and Jean-Claude that the city’s defensive incantations would not hold in place for much longer.
“Keeping such a supernatural shield beyond a few more days is impossible.” Louie explained to them. “The mystical energy sources being tapped to cover an area the size of this city are finite.”
Julio realized that they needed to mount an effective offensive to end this war or at least force a truce. To be successful, the element of surprise on any counterattack was critical. Julio understood that he had to immediately ferret out the source of the leaking before the damage it was doing was fatal to their war efforts. In light of what was uncovered by that French agent’s arrest, Julio also realized that he had to get help from outside of his forces. “Too many possibilities of this spy knowing things if I use my own people,” he said to the painting. He stared at the mute figures on the canvas. Their faces reflected no emotion. Julio felt tired. In the past he had always used his wife’s image as a sounding board but this time he knew he needed to talk out his worries and fears with someone human. He suddenly remembered that he now had a son who cared very much for him. He did have a family to turn too for comfort or to just listen; he was no longer forced to pass through life alone. He pressed a buzzer on his desk. “Dexter can you get up here,” he said when he heard his son’s voice answering at the other end. As he waited for Dexter to arrive, Julio sat back in his chair. In that instant he felt more at ease about his course of action. He quickly picked up his private secure phone to place another call. As he waited for Mark Julian to answer he glanced at the painting once more. He saw his son come in and he smiled.
****
Later that afternoon Julio and Mark met in a secure room in security headquarters. The private eye read the papers as Julio explained about the arrest of the spy.
“Sweet Minerva if these papers had gotten to Paris!” Mark mumbled as he glanced up at the security chief.
“I know,” Julio agreed. “But this time we were lucky. The real issue is finding that leak and stopping it. The war is going badly for us because of this traitor. We must find him or her and arrest them!”
Mark saw the exhaustion on his friend’s face. Julio was under fire over the conduct of the war. So was Jean-Claude. Both their current positions were now on the line. Mark knew they had to find this fifth columnist and end it. “I’ll do what I can,” he said as he got up from his chair. “Give me a list of everyone who knew of these plans.” Mark read the names then laughed as he glanced up at Julio. “I see you put Vinnie on this list huh,” he said.
“I put myself on it too if you notice,” Julio replied.
“Yeah I saw that fact,” Mark responded. “Taking you and Vinnie off it,” he smirked. “It is a short list. If you pull off Jean-Claude’s name that leaves three left to investigate.”
“I agree with your de-selections of those names,” Julio stated. “No real motive for treason. But you did ask for everyone so I put everyone down.”
I will check them out.” He went to Julio and gave him a pat on the back. “I’ll start today.” He left Julio and thought about how to accomplish this investigation in the fastest way possible.
****
After Mark left his meeting with Julio he decided to go to the council headquarters to scout out things on his own. While he was there he drifted by Jean-Claude’s offices. He wanted to chat with people there. The private eye hoped he might learn something about the source of the leak from office gossips. The vampire had found that water cooler conversations revealed a lot if one knew how to listen. If someone on that list was acting strangely his or her coworkers usually were among the first to notice that detail. In fact he did discover something of value, just not the something for which he had been searching. Mark watched as Tortego’s aide hurried into Jean-Claude’s office. The man was carrying a small bottle filled with a slightly yellow liquid inside of it. Yet it was not the bottle that bothered Mark. There was something about how the aide was smirking that chilled the vampire. He was tempted to just barge into the office but, considering his current relationship with Jean-Claude, he did not expect to get a welcoming reception.
He turned to go still unsettled by the aide’s demeanor. Having done as much reconnaissance as possible Mark reluctantly left the headquarters still bothered by that bottle he had seen. As he walked out, his mind repeated what Vinnie had told him. What harm can happen to Jean-Claude on his own offices. He resolved to call and set up a meeting with Jaime as quickly as possible! Something told him this should be a priority.
Private Agendas Unfold
“You fool you put too much of the drug in the communion wine that I gave to him,” Tortego yelled at his quivering vampire aide as he paced back and forth in Jean-Claude’s office. “Just look at him,” he ranted as he directed his vision at the werewolf. “He is as high as a kite. How can we send him home like this?” He gazed over at the drugged werewolf.
Jean-Claude was slumped in his desk chair. His handsome face was totally vacant. His green eyes were glazed over and his pupils had contracted into mere pinpricks.
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“It isn’t that bad,’ the terrified aide muttered.
“He’s completely stoned.” Tortego yelled to his middle-aged corpulent aide.
“I can bring him down if given a private half hour or so with him,” the aide softly said.
“Do it,” the vampire growled angrily. “I’ll make sure no one is allowed into his office for the next hour. That should ensure that you are not interrupted.” The Spaniard muttered with annoyance as he left the two men and stomped out.
The aide grinned. Well that plan worked, he gleefully thought. He walked over to the drugged up young werewolf. Slowly let his pudgy hands reached downward to lightly fondle Jean-Claude’s genital area. A part of Jean-Claude’s mind registered strong memories of similar undesirable physical intimacy conducted long ago by a Strega. A strong sense of disgust and anger over this intimate physical violation arose in his consciousness. His drugged brain began to fight its way past the overwhelming drug induced exhilarations and reassert his control of his body so he could repel the assault.
“I’m not such an idiot as you believe, Tortego ,” the British born aide laughingly said to Jean-Claude as he eagerly let his other hand freely touch and roam about the strong muscled body of his helpless victim. “I wanted to do this for so long. I figured slipping a triple dose into the communion wine would really send you over the edge. With luck I’d have an opening to get you alone,” he rasped as he slipped a hand down under Jean-Claude belt to begin massaging the werewolf’s manhood. “You must be flying so high huh Jean-Claude. I bet you are even turned on right?” The vampire chuckled as he experienced his own erotic stimulations from his actions with the werewolf. Quickly he removed his hand from inside Jean-Claude’s pants. He unbuttoned the werewolf’s shirt and pulled it open to reveal Jean-Claude’s well-defined muscular upper body. “Not so skittish about my touch now are you. You always move off when I get close. Guess that won’t happen today. Come on you want it right?” He groaned as one of his hands tweak first one of Jean-Claude’s nipples then the other until they had become hard and firm to his touch. From the further glazing of the werewolf’s eyes coupled with his deeper breathing the aide knew he had tapped an erogenous zone on his stoned prey.
The Case of the Parisian Vendetta: A Mark Julian Vampire PI Mystery #10 (Mark Julian Vampire PI Mysteries) Page 4
