Dying to Meet You

by S. C. Stokes

“This is no mere shard of silver. It is the very blade by which the Norse drove the beasts from their lands.” He spun the shard with a flourish, “It is Gungnir!”

  Kasey and Sarah stared dumbfounded at Ernesto.

  “Are you kidding me?” Ernesto answered, exasperated. “You have no idea what Gungnir is, do you? What do they even teach in school these days?”

  Kasey shook her head. “Sorry, I took Math and English. Never mentioned a Gungnir that I can remember.”

  Ernesto looked like he might burst a vein. “Maths and English…what? Did you not attend the Academy?”

  Kasey sighed. “Yes and no. I was there but not for long. I finished my schooling here in New York.”

  Ernesto nodded slowly. “Well, that explains a lot. A little odd for a Stonemoore but… as they say, it’s a new world.”

  “I went to the Academy, Ernesto, but I didn’t hear anything about Gungnir, either,” Sarah chimed in.

  “Well, then, let me make up for that educational oversight,” he answered. “Perhaps it’s because most believe Gungnir to be a myth, fabricated by the Norsemen to scare their enemies. The Werewolves of Scandinavia on the other hand, know it to be real. They felt its deadly bite as it scattered them before it.” He raised the silver shard above his head and cried out, “Af pvi at Odin!”

  The alien phrase echoed around the small chamber. Ernesto’s previous incantations has been in Old Latin. That much had been clear to Kasey from her time in the Academy. This was something else entirely. It differed from the Welsh she used in her own spells.

  As Kasey puzzled over the meaning of the words Ernesto had used, Gungnir shimmered. As the shard of silver expanded rapidly, it gave off a distinct ring. The sound mimicked the noise of a sword clearing its scabbard. The shard elongated to a wicked point. When it reached six feet, it stopped growing and a series of intricate raised lines appeared in its surface.

  “It’s a spear!” Kasey declared.

  “No, Kasey,” Ernesto whispered. “Not a spear—the spear. The Spear of Odin!”

  “Odin? Thor’s dad? The god from all those superhero movies?” Kasey asked, taking in the impressive weapon. “I thought they were fiction.”

  Ernesto laughed. “They are. I assure you. But like most of Hollywood’s better film forays, there is a kernel of truth at its core. Odin wasn’t a god, though he might as well have been.

  “He was a Norse wizard who forged weapons of power for the northmen. One day, he was working in his forge when a pack of Werewolves attacked his farm. He took up arms to defend his family, but they were all slain.

  “Odin himself was trapped, his back to a wall. In one hand he held his smith’s hammer, in the other a sword he had been forging for the King. It was not meant for battle; it was a gift to honor the success of his raids. The blade was forged from solid silver—silver stolen from my own homeland, England.

  “As the beasts advanced, Odin fought like a man possessed. The hammer may have annoyed the beasts, but the silver sword sowed death with every stroke.

  “When the villagers found him, Odin alone was still standing, surrounded on all sides by slain Werewolves. When his rage subsided, he realized he held in his hands the secret to stopping the beasts that plagued his homeland.

  “So, he melted down the sword and forged a spear. It was the finest weapon he had ever crafted. Concealing it with a shrinking spell, Odin hid its true nature so no other than him could wield it. Fueled by a desire for revenge for his family’s death, Odin went after the beasts. With each success, his fame grew. Vikings flocked to his banner. Soon, Odin the Smith was forgotten, and Odin the Warrior-God was born. He pursued the Werewolves from ocean to ocean, driving them from the north.

  “To the Vikings, he was a God among men, but like all men he eventually passed from this world. The secret of his craft and his legendary spear were lost for centuries, until my family found it. We could sense the magic that lay within, but it took us decades to unlock its mysteries. Now you can see it in all its glory.

  “When it comes to Werewolves, there is no finer weapon. To them, it is as deadly as it is terrifying. It may have been lost for centuries, but you better believe they have not forgotten it. The once indomitable beasts have been on the run ever since… at least until the Treaty of Thames.”

  “Sounds like just the thing I need,” Kasey said, reaching for the spear.

  Ernesto lowered the spear but did not hand it over. “Miss Stonemoore, the Spear of Odin is a priceless artifact, one that has been in our family for hundreds of years. I could never sell it…”

  Kasey’s face fell, the hopes that had been building inside her dashed.

  Ernesto continued, “But I could lend it to you for safekeeping… at least until we find you something else. There is, however, a favour I would ask of you, after all The Emporium is not simply a library service for lethal weapons.”

  “Of course,” Kasey answered, relieved that she wouldn’t be leaving empty handed, “What can I do Ernesto?”

  Ernesto’s face remained impassive. “As I mentioned, the spear is a priceless heirloom, but there is something I have been after for many years. It just so happens that your father has in his possession a small jewelry box. I have been trying to purchase it from him for decades, but he is most determined. If you could put in a good word for me, I would be most grateful.”

  Kasey was disappointed. “Ernesto, I need that spear, and I will certainly put in a good word for you, but I can’t give any assurances that he will part with it.”

  Ernesto raised his hand. “I don’t need an assurance, Miss Stonemoore, just your word that you will relate to him the part my family and I have played in aiding you. My family has been in this business for generations, and we know that a little goodwill goes a long way. So, what do you say, Kasey? Can I count on you?”

  “Of course,” Kasey replied. “That much I can do.”

  “Very well, then. It is yours, Kasey, at least for a season. Ensure you bring it back to me safely.” He held out the spear.

  Kasey took the offered spear. As soon as Ernesto release the weapon, it shrunk back to its former size.

  “Wow!” Kasey exclaimed, “I guess I wasn’t quite ready for that.”

  Ernesto laughed. “I hope you weren’t expecting to walk the streets of New York carrying a spear. Don’t worry, you can activate its power anytime you wish. All you must do is summon its power as I did. Do you remember the incantation?”

  Kasey nodded as she raised the shard. “Af pvi at Odin!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kasey bid a hasty goodbye to Sarah and Simeon, and raced back to the Ninth Precinct.

  “You have one new voice message,” Kasey's cell phone declared. Kasey fingers raced across her phone as she dialed her voice mail.

  “Kasey where the hell have you gone?” Bishop's recorded voice shouted from her phone. “I've been trying you for hours. Just pick up your stinking phone. If it wasn't clear last night, you're not meant to leave the station without an escort.” Bishop’s voice paused. “It's not safe, Kasey. Call me back. I'm worried about you.”

  Oh, crap. Kasey flicked through her phone. 17 missed calls.

  Oh, boy, I'm in trouble.

  She hadn't realized just how much time had passed while she was with Sarah.

  In her heart, Kasey knew she should have asked Bishop before leaving. But she also knew what Bishop's answer would be, and Kasey couldn't bear to be cooped up in the station any longer.

  Besides, she wasn't going to find the killer by hiding and Arthur Ainsley had made it abundantly clear that failure was not an option. She had considered using herself as bait but that hadn’t seemed a particularly appealing scenario. Not before, anyway.

  Armed and dangerous, Kasey reconsidered her options as she fidgeted with the silver shard resting in her pocket. The Spear of Odin was an impressive weapon. She hoped it would be enough to level the playing field.

  Now she just had to find a way to draw the beast out of hiding with
out being observed by any non-magical beings.

  Kasey yanked open the door to the station and made a beeline for the morgue. She was barely across the foyer before Bishop caught up with her.

  “Kasey, where have you been? I have been worried sick. We thought the killer had you”

  Kasey rubbed her stomach as she walked. “Sorry, Bishop, I was famished. I stepped out to get a bite to eat with my sister. I didn't mean to worry you.”

  “Breakfast?” Bishop asked incredulously. “You risked your life to get some coffee?”

  “Well, not just a coffee,” Kasey answered. “I had some bagels too.”

  Bishop looked as though she might explode.

  “Are you okay, Bishop? You're looking a little…”

  “No, I'm not alright, Kasey! We have a serial killer terrorizing the city, three bodies in the morgue, and almost twenty others in protective custody across the city. If that wasn't bad enough, now we have the FBI looking over our shoulders and watching our every move.

  “That being said, can you imagine how it looks when my partner, a possible victim, goes AWOL in the middle of the investigation? Doesn't particularly send a message that inspires confidence.”

  Kasey stopped dead. “Wait, the FBI?”

  “Yeah, one of their case officers showed up this morning. It seems word has gotten out about our little case and the mayor wants it wrapped up as soon as humanly possible.

  “Now we have to do it while being scrutinized by the mayor, the media, and the FBI. As if doing our job wasn't hard enough already.” Bishop swept a stray hair out of her face as she spoke.

  Kasey could see that Bishop was having a rough time and her vanishing act clearly hadn't helped the cause. “I'm sorry, Bishop, I didn't mean to worry you, or make you look bad. It's been an awful week and I just needed something to eat. I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone and see my sister while I was at it. I won't do it again.”

  “Damn right you won't,” Bishop answered, shaking her finger at Kasey. “You're not to leave the station without an escort.”

  “Understood,” Kasey answered and held both hands up in a sign of surrender. She had nothing to argue. “Any new leads on the case?”

  “Not yet. We've been busy dealing with the logistics of trying to guard all the potential victims. Our resources are being stretched to the limit. Between protecting these women and our usual workload, we are pretty thin on the ground right now.

  “We've transferred a number of the victims to other precincts to try to spread the workload but it's a slow process. Not a lot of enthusiasm for babysitting duty. Vida is downstairs working on the victims’ profiles. We are still trying to work out what the link between them is,” Bishop answered.

  “What, apart from the fact they all look like me?” Kasey used her fingers to frame her face.

  “Yeah, I keep raising that with Vida,” Bishop answered, “but he keeps insisting there is more to it than that. Keeps muttering that if that was the only criteria there would be far more women on the list. The victims while seemingly a broad spectrum, they appear to have been painstakingly chosen. We just don't know why yet.”

  “We need to speak to the other girls,” Kasey suggested. “The more information we have, the sooner we can piece all of this together.”

  “The FBI have been helping on that front. Agent Collins and I have been questioning them all morning.”

  “Agent Collins, huh? Seems a little formal.”

  “Formal is an understatement. I have seen more talkative suspects than this guy.”

  “Oh, sounds like a match made in heaven,” Kasey teased. “Strong silent type. Just like you.”

  Bishop fixed her with a stare. “If you don't knock it off, I'm going to stick you in a cell. For your protection, of course.”

  Kasey laughed. “Where is he now?”

  “He is across town interviewing one of our potential victims. She has a police detail from the Eighth Precinct.

  “Collins wanted to finish his interviews today so he's on his way to her apartment to conduct it now. Sooner or later, we'll find the common thread that links them all, and the sooner the better…”

  A cell phone ringing cut Bishop off. She looked annoyed until she realized the ringing was coming from her belt.

  Bishop pulled out her phone, glanced at the number and waved for Kasey to follow her into a nearby office. Shutting the door behind them, Bishop answered the call by putting it on speaker. “What’s up, Collins?”

  There was no response, but in the background a door slammed, followed by a series of what sounded like gunshots.

  Bishop frowned at the phone. “Collins, what the hell is going on?”

  Through the speaker, heavy breathing could be heard, followed by more gunshots.

  “Collins?” Bishop was almost shouting.

  “Bishop, it’s me.” The voice was deep but panicky. “We’re under fire. I need backup.”

  “On our way, Collins! Where are you?”

  “We’re at the woman’s apartment in Williamsburg, corner of Berry and 4th Street. We were helping her grab some clothes but the killer was already here…”

  Another series of gunshots drowned out Collin’s voice.

  “Hurry, Bishop. I’m pinned down, and I’ve been cut off from the others. We need help.”

  “We’re on our way, hang tight.”

  “Careful, Bishop, he’s heavily armed. Bring the troops!”

  “Roger that, Collins, we’re on our way.”

  Bishop hung up the call and opened the office door.

  She called the officer manning the station’s front counter. “Georgiano, we have officers under fire and an active shooter,” she shouted. “Corner of Berry and 4th Street Williamsburg. He’s heavily armed. We’ll need Tac. Support, and the paramedics. Make sure we have them ASAP.”

  “You got it, detective.” Geogiano replied.

  “Kasey let’s go!” Bishop shouted, breaking into a run.

  Kasey followed her across the building and out the double doors.

  Reaching the car park, Bishop popped the trunk of her car and pulled out a bulletproof vest. She shoved one at Kasey. “Put this on.”

  Bishop opened a duffle bag in the trunk and pulled out a Glock 19. She checked the weapon, loaded a magazine, and handed it to Kasey.

  “Whoa,” Kasey answered.

  “You’ve used a gun before, right?” Bishop asked.

  “Yeah, the department tested me before they would let me go into the field.”

  “Excellent. It has a safety trigger, won’t fire unless you put decent rearward pressure on it. Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine.”

  Bishop grabbed a second vest from the trunk and swapped it for her jacket. Slamming the trunk, she nodded toward Kasey and then sprinted around to jump into the car. Kasey scrambled to keep up.

  In seconds, Bishop had the car in gear and was tearing out of the car park.

  Bishop covered the trip to Williamsburg in record time, sirens blared as she ducked and weaved her way through the busy streets. Reaching the corner of Berry and East 4th Streets, Kasey spotted the squad car out front and Bishop pulled in behind it.

  Bishop jumped out of the car and drew her weapon. Kasey followed, keeping one hand resting on the shard of Odin’s spear in her jeans pocket.

  The street was deserted. Anyone who had heard the shots would have run a mile. Strangely, there was no sound coming from the building itself. Only minutes earlier, there had been dozens of shots echoing down the phone line. It didn’t feel right.

  Bishop clearly felt the same. “It’s too quiet, Kasey. We can’t wait.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise, Bishop? Support shouldn’t be far away.”

  “We can’t afford to wait, Kasey. They could be injured or worse.”

  Kasey wasn’t sure what to do, but Bishop made the choice for her. Gun in hand, she entered the building. Skipping the elevators, Bishop made for the stairs and Kasey followed.

  “It’s
only the second floor. The elevator will take too long,” Bishop explained.

  Kasey nodded and followed her through the door and onto the stairs. She didn’t relish the thought of coming face to face with the killer in such a confined space. With a gun, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel.

  Bishop took the stairs two at a time.

  Reaching the second floor, Bishop stepped out into the hallway. “There’s an open door down there, Kasey. That must be it.”

  Kasey came up behind her and peered into the distance. There were no signs of a struggle. She stalked Bishop down the corridor, moving swiftly but quietly, searching for any sign of the shooter.

  Reaching the open door, Bishop paused. Turning to Kasey she held up three fingers and quickly counted down to signal her intent. The gun felt strange in her hand, but it gave her some comfort.

  Her magic was a potent tool for both offense and defense, but she couldn’t summon her power in front of Bishop, so she was stuck relying on the weapon.

  Her thoughts turned to the beast from Hudson Road and her pulse raced. She had known this moment was coming but still didn’t feel ready for it.

  Bishop reached the open door and swept into the room. Kasey held her breath as she rounded the corner.

  They were too late. There were three bodies lying on the floor: Kelly Sachs, the killer’s target, flanked by her police escort. They had been taken by surprise; neither of the officers had managed to draw a weapon. All three of them had been hit multiple times. While Bishop searched the room, Kasey hurried over to the bodies, and checked their vitals. No pulse. She turned to Bishop and shook her head, then scanned the room. There was no sign of the FBI agent, Collins.

  “Collins!” Bishop called, as she made her way toward the bedroom.

  “I’m in here,” came the muffled response.

  Kasey pointed to the bathroom. “It’s coming from in there.”

  With Bishop in the lead, they made their way over to the bathroom door. There were three bullet holes, pock-marked across it. Bishop tried to peek through them before testing the lock. It was open. With her left hand on the handle and her right holding her gun, she eased open the door.