by N. P. Martin
"Hey," Leona Lawson said back, her voice as restrained as mine was. Despite it only being a phone call, I could still feel the tension between us.
A brief silence ensued, though it felt longer. I hardly knew what to say to her. She had made her position very clear the last time we spoke, leaving me with the lasting impression that there wasn't much more to say on the matter. It's not that I didn't want to discuss things with her--I did--but I knew there'd be no point. "What's up?" I tried not to sound angry or bitter, even though I felt it.
"Nothing." She paused for a second. "I just needed to talk to someone."
"What about your new friends in DC?"
"Forget it. I shouldn't have called."
"Wait." I sat forward in my seat. "I didn't mean--"
"Yes, you did, Creed."
"You're right. I'm sorry. I just...don't like how things have ended up between us."
"And whose fault is that?"
Who's the bitter one now?
I said nothing.
Leona sighed. "I'm sorry," she said. "This isn't all your fault."
"Yes, it is," I said. "If I hadn't of...you know..." It pulled at my guts even to mention what I now thought of as the "dirty deed", which only made me hate myself even more because I didn't really believe the night I spent with Margot was dirty at all, at least not in the worst sense.
"You think this is all about you sleeping with that witch?"
"Well, yeah. I do. Mostly."
"I can live with what you did, Creed. I know you were pressured into it."
Pressured? Be honest now, Creed. Were you pressured into sleeping with Margot? Could you have stopped her?
I'll take the fifth on that one.
"It still shouldn't have happened," I said. "And I'm sorry."
"As I said, that's not why I'm in Washington. I just had to get away from Blackham and all the madness there."
"You've been through a lot, Leona. I can't even begin to imagine how you felt or what you went through in the Underworld."
"No, you can't."
Shit. That meant it was bad. Really bad. But what the hell did I expect anyway? That she sat down there having tea and biscuits and playing backgammon with Margot and Baal while she waited on me rescuing her?
"You should've stayed, Leona," I told her. "I could've helped you get through this. Division probably have people as well--"
"A bunch of shrinks? No thanks."
Can't say I blamed her there. "I still could have helped you deal."
"How?" she asked bluntly.
I was on the spot now. "Well, I..."
"You don't even know, do you? That's because you don't deal with anything, Creed. You just move onto the next case."
"It's not like you're any better. You just apply military grit to everything. You moved to Washington and a different job. How's that any different?"
"I'm not saying it is. But at least here, I don't have to deal with the supernatural bullshit as well."
"You could've just took a break for a while. You didn't have to run."
"I'm not running."
We both knew that wasn't true. "Whatever you're doing, it doesn't matter. I just know that I love you, Leona. And I know that you love me. I want us to be together. We were made for each other. Who else would put up with our shit?"
She laughed softly. "No one."
"Exactly." A wave of hope washed over me and it felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest.
Then she said, "That still doesn't change anything. I can't go back there, Creed, to that city, to the madness. I'm sorry."
I sank back into the chair, most of my hope now dashed. "Are you saying you never want to come back here?"
She didn't answer for a long time, and when she did, I wished she didn't. "Yes."
I thought about telling her I would move to Washington, but Blackham had been my home for the last thirty odd years. It was the only place in the world where I felt truly comfortable. My life is here. To make myself feel better and prevent an emotional freefall, I told myself that she would change her mind eventually, once things had settled down a bit and she had got her head on straight again. Whether or not she would, remained to be seen. "You just need some time, that's all," I said eventually, hating how weak and pathetic I felt.
Leona sighed. "You're wrong, Creed. My mind is made up."
I listened hard, trying to detect the faintest hint of doubt in her voice. I wasn't all that convinced. Leona could be stubborn about things, but she had been known to change her mind down the line.
She did about me, didn't she?
I thought about telling her that, but she would only say it wasn't the same thing, so I said nothing about it. "Alright," I said. "Let's just leave it at that for the time being anyway. We can still talk though, right? About other stuff."
"Of course."
"Good. I'll call you then. You going to be alright?"
"Don't worry about me, Creed. I know you're working a case for Brentwood."
"I am."
"Then go do what you do best."
As I sat in the Op Room, I was happy to have retained some of the lightness of being that returned to me while I spoke with Leona. The phone call had made me realize how much I was missing her. Pushing aside my feelings like I always do only served to weigh me down, a feeling I always found myself getting used to all too quickly. Before you know it, dragging your feet through mud becomes your normal state of being, and life is hard enough without that.
So feeling like I could give most if not all of my attention to the SciCane case now, I opened the MacBook and logged into the SciCane site. I had already done this back at Division with Bethany, but I left no reply to the posted invitation then, preferring to do so at the Sanctum before committing to anything. The invitation came with a few conditions attached, some of which were expected, others were not.
The video I posted had managed to attract dozens of comments and reactions. Comments like, "Yeah! Stick it to that bloodsucking bitch!!!", and, "Glad someone is standing up to that power mad vamp!!" There were many other comments, most along the same lines, congratulating me for standing up against the "tyranny of our oppressors". One guy from Poland said he wished the man in the park had burned to death so his charred body could make a bigger statement. Someone else from Ireland of all places said I should have fireballed the entire crowd. That would have shown the bastards apparently. I shook my head as I read over the comments, most written by no more than keyboard sorcerers and wannabe anarchists who would probably shit their pants if they came into contact with a supernatural creature of any kind, never mind a vampire, nevermind the fucking Crimson Crow herself.
In my forum inbox, Crowley666 had left me a message:
Hello there Creed000. Thank you for posting that very entertaining video. We are impressed by your, albeit rather unfortunate, use of magick, as well as your commitment to your beliefs. You are the first person we have ever seen publicly speak out against the tyrant Crow. For that alone, you deserve entry into our family, but only if you can meet the following conditions:
1. You must meet us at a time and place of our choosing, which you will only be notified of a very short time in advance via this private message board.
2. You will come to the meeting alone. If we suspect anyone else is with you, things will end badly for both you and the people you are with. Please do us all a favor and bear this in mind before our meeting.
3. At our initial meeting, you must be prepared to be as open and as honest with us as possible. You must also be prepared for a very probing line of questioning. If for any reason we feel you are dishonest in your answers to our questions, or that you are lying about your motivations for being there, our response will be less than forgiving. If you are as smart as you no doubt think you are, you will know exactly what we mean by this.
4. You must also know that if you are accepted into the group that there will be no turning back for you. Once in, you cannot leave. The reasons for this ar
e obvious, we would imagine, so no explanation is necessary. If you are not prepared to commit fully, don't show up at all.
If you are willing to adhere to these conditions, Creed000 then you need do nothing else but wait on our contacting you on here again. If not, reply to this message immediately, and we won't contact you again.
Good day to you, Creed000. We await your decision.
Crowley666
I sat back in my chair and thought about what I'd just read. I still wasn't sure if whoever wrote the message had a flair for the dramatic, or whether they were deadly serious with their conditions. I guess I'd know soon enough when I met up with them.
Speaking of "them", it appeared that Crowley666 was not an individual, but a collective. Either that or someone just liked to use the royal we when they spoke, perhaps to make themselves sound more serious, as people online had a habit of doing. Whatever the case, nothing I'd read so far gave me any less cause for concern. The bottom line was that SciCane were up to serious shit, and had some serious firepower in their hands in the form of the Dark Codex, which at the end of the day, had the potential to be many times more powerful than the most destructive of bombs out there. That alone made SciCane a serious fucking threat, even if they did turn out to be a bunch of disorganized, deluded fools who reveled in the melodrama of being in a secret organization.
I'd had dealings with many cults over the years. Blackham was still full of them. Most of them were small and deceptively unthreatening, passing themselves off as outcasts or loonies who believed crazy shit and lived a crazy lifestyle. But the one thing they all had in common was their potential for causing great harm in the long run. Such harm wasn't always the physical kind like murder--though there was much potential for that as well. More often the harm came to the many lives ruined by the cult and their brainwashing ways. Hundreds, thousands of lives claimed through mental cruelty and abuse. Thousands of families torn apart in the process, their sons and daughters lost to the madness spread by the cult leaders.
SciCane was potentially worse than all of the Blackham cults put together. SciCane was taking power and putting it into the hands of those who couldn't handle it. It was bad enough they were preaching magick to Sleepwalkers, awakening those who probably shouldn't be awakened. It was worse that SciCane themselves were reaping information and knowledge from a source that was much too dangerous for anyone to handle. Period.
Did I say all cults have one thing in common? I meant they have two things in common, the last of which is this:
They all need taking down.
And the sooner, the better.
9
First Contact
A few hours later, I got another private message from Crowley666:
Hello, Creed000. As you never responded to our last message, we are now assuming that you want to go ahead with our meeting. In that case, please proceed immediately to the park where you made your audition tape. Sit on the same bench you stood on. Someone will make contact once you do. Please make your way there now. We look forward to meeting you Creed000.
Crowley666
The park? I thought after reading the message. Were they intending to give me the run around first before making contact like out of some thriller movie? Was I to be shuffled around half the city before meeting anyone? I hoped not. I could understand their paranoia and need for secrecy, but a simple address would have done. What did they think I was going to do? Bring half the city's law enforcement with me?
"Alright," I said as I stood up. "I'll play your little game, Crowley666."
I stood for a moment in the Op Room as I drained the last of the whiskey bottle and thought about what I should take with me to the meeting. No point in taking weapons, as whatever I had on me would likely be confiscated at the meeting. So my trusty six-shooter was out. I left the Killing Knife on the table as well, just in case I never saw it again if it became confiscated by SciCane. No point in bringing anything to the meeting but myself and my magick. That would have to suffice as far as protection went, but hopefully, I wouldn't need any.
Night had fallen as I stepped out of the Sanctum and headed for the Lincoln parked on the street. There was also a chill in the air, and I pulled the collar of my trench coat up, so it covered my neck.
When I hit the street, I suddenly saw a dark figure emerge from behind a black van. It was too dark to see the person's face, but I saw clearly enough that they were pointing something at me. Too late, I realized it was a gun. Before I could think about employing any defensive magick, I felt the impact of something hitting me in the chest, and I looked down to see a dart sticking in me.
Then the world went funny, and I fell into a black hole of oblivion.
I awoke to find myself sitting in a chair inside a darkened room. The only light source was an annoyingly bright spotlight on the ceiling somewhere in front of me, the near-blinding beam of light shining right on me.
What the fuck is this? I thought, half panicked by the fact that I had no idea where I was, or how I ended up there.
Then I remembered getting ambushed outside the Sanctum. Instinctively, I put a hand on my chest where the tranq dart had hit me. So much for being given the runaround. Obviously, when Crowley666 told me to go to the park, it was only to get me to leave the Sanctum. Abduction had been their plan all along it seemed.
I put a hand out to kill the glare of the spotlight shining on me. "Hello?" I called out. "Anyone there?"
Seemingly not, for no one answered my call. Surprised that I wasn't strapped to the chair, I got up and walked around the room, which is when I realized that there was no need to strap me into the chair because the room had no doors or windows from which I could escape. The matt black walls were all smooth with no sign of anything that resembled a doorway.
Fuck's sake, I thought. Was there any need for this? I was beginning to feel like a prisoner at a CIA black site. "Hello?" I called out again as I walked around the room. "I didn't come here to be held like a damn prisoner. Frankly, given the anti-oppressive philosophy we share, I'm surprised at your level of...paranoia here."
I kept looking around as if searching for a face while I waited for a response that never came. Shaking my head, I sighed sharply in annoyance. I didn't appreciate being held prisoner by anyone, nor blatantly ignored. Fuck them, if that's the way they wanted to play it. I'd get out of this room myself, using my magick.
Only when I went to tap into my magick source, I realized that I couldn't. Something was blocking my access, and I didn't know what it was. It could have been magick, but it felt more like some sort of technology that was in effect.
I shook my head again, anger replacing my annoyance. "Seriously? Are you guy's sure you aren't government because it's sure beginning to fucking feel like it."
"Hello, Mr Creed."
The male voice was loud, and it startled me slightly when it sounded in the room, seeming to come from everywhere at once like the voice of some omnipotent deity. I stood for a second before answering back. "What is this?" I asked the voice. "The abduction thingy I can understand. You didn't want me to know your location yet. Although to be honest, a blindfold would have done just fine. But holding me prisoner? A notch too far, I think."
"Apologies if you feel uncomfortable," the voice said. "A security measure, that's all. We don't know if we can trust you yet. I'm sure you can understand...August Creed."
I smiled slightly at the mention of my name. It was no great surprise that they had done their homework on me. Not that I was worried. There wasn't much to be found on me outside of the Blackham City Online Grimoire. Officially, I was a ghost and had no legitimate records of any kind. Which just left my reputation around the city. Depending on how connected SciCane was, they could have gotten a pretty good representation of me by asking around. "So you know who I am?"
"Of course. Your reputation precedes you."
"Then you know I'm the real deal."
"Yes. The question we want to know, however, is why you are here
when your dealings with the supernatural elite are well known?"
"Yes," I said, more relaxed now that I knew this was just an initial interview. All I had to do was tell them what they wanted to hear and I would be released from the room soon enough. I hoped so anyway. "I've dealt with the supernatural elite, as you call them. I've also dealt with the government, with Division. That's why I'm here. I'm sick of their oppression and controlling ways, and the fact that they all think they have the right to do whatever they want, no matter who they hurt in the process." I didn't have to try very hard to get the right amount of conviction in my voice. My outrage at the powers that be was never far below the surface at the best of times. But my philosophy had always been that's it's better to work with the people at the top instead of trying to overthrow them. It was better to play smart and subvert from within when the opportunity arose.
The voice went silent for a moment before booming into the room again. "Why should we believe you? How do we know you aren't here on the elite's behalf? Division perhaps?"
I snorted as if the very idea appalled me, which it did anyway. To be clear, I wasn't there on anyone's behalf but my own. "Undercover? Seriously? Do I look like 00Creed to you?" I laughed at my own joke. The voice didn't respond. "Seriously though. I'm here because I saw an opportunity when I came across your organization."
"To do what?"
"To finally make a difference and change the power balance. The people of the world have been enslaved for too long, and I'm not just talking about the supernatural oppressors. I'm talking about all of them--the corporations, the churches, the governments. The whole damn system of oppression. We need to wipe it all out and start again, only this time, the people are in charge of themselves, with no one looking down on them or squashing them into the ground with a jackboot when they don't play by the rules. I'm blessed with abilities and knowledge, and as I said, I'm sick of using those to help the elite with their problems. I want to use the power I have to help the people."
