“What kind of tricks?”
Serena rolled her eyes and scoffed. “He makes chemical cocktails using Forever blood.”
“Serena,” I said, squinting my eyes at her. “The less people know about my cocktails, the better.”
“Oh, relax,” she said. She turned to Augie. “Solomon likes to keep his secrets, but he’s become a very good chemist over the years. He uses Forever blood to create cocktails that can heal.”
“That’s what you used on me,” Augie said. “At the house. Wasn’t it?”
“Sorry I didn’t have enough left to heal your chest. Sometimes wounds created by supernatural forces are harder to heal. Fiends included. If I had more at the time—”
“I’m just glad to be alive,” he said.
Serena grabbed the blue oxford shirt off the table and handed it to Augie. “Courtesy of Zac.”
Augie slipped his arms through and started to button up. Serena stopped him and buttoned him up herself, leaning her face in a little too close to his when buttoning the top button.
The kid practically had drool coming out the corner of his mouth. “Th-Thank you?”
The funny thing about Serena was she didn’t have a single nurturing bone in her body. Which meant, she was still trying to influence him. There was no possible way she actually cared for the kid.
Augie and Serena together?
That was a sick and twisted image I didn’t want to get stuck in my head.
Any time she did anything out of character, like pretending she cared about anything other than herself, she was up to something. Anytime she wasn’t stabbing you in the back, creating portals to Hell, or casting a spell you would undoubtedly regret, she had an ulterior motive.
Augie was about to button up the sleeves. He held up his arms. The sleeves were three inches too short. “Dude, really?”
Zac turned around from his computer desk. “Man, you’re lucky I’m giving you a shirt at all. I have exquisite taste in wardrobe,” he said, popping his collar. “I may be thin, but you’re gangly. It’s not my fault you’re built like a hairless chimpanzee.”
Augie scowled. “I am not gangly.”
“You’re a gangly ginger,” Zac said. “Gangly as fuck, bro.”
I got up and slapped Zac on the back of the head. “Be polite.”
After feeling the back of his head for knots, Zac pulled up an image on his monitor. “I got something,” he said, maximizing the size of the screen.
It was live news.
An Asian woman was on screen with a mic in her hand. Behind her was the house fire. “I’m standing here, where just moments ago, a typical family home in a quiet, local suburban neighborhood caught fire, trapping innocent victims inside. Police are pulling out dead bodies as we speak. It is still unclear how many casualties we have. The imagery is too graphic to show at this time.”
Zac turned to me. “Your handiwork, I assume?”
Serena crossed her arms and grinned. “If someone isn’t dying, on fire, or decapitated, Solomon Ivy wasn’t there.”
Zac and Augie laughed. Landon started to, but stopped when I glared at him.
“Shut up,” I said. “I never leave anyone dying. Loose ends.”
The reporter continued. “Oh my God. Oh my God,” she said, running to the back of the house as the camera followed. “The police have just reported they’ve found a survivor. I repeat, they have found a survivor.”
I narrowed my eyes. A low growl formed in the back of my throat.
“Yes, yes, it is confirmed,” she said. “Someone was trapped in the basement and is alive.”
They cut to live video feed of a fireman pulling out a survivor from the burnt rubble. It was a young blonde woman. Attractive and innocent-looking but with eyes that said she knew what was going on. The kind of girl from high school that had all the boys wrapped around her finger while proclaiming to be a virgin after sleeping with every member of the football team.
The fireman put a blanket over her shoulders. As he pulled her to safety, the reporter jumped in with the mic and asked, “What’s your name, young lady?”
She looked directly into the camera and whispered. “Maya.”
The video froze on her face.
Beautiful. Innocent. Marred with soot. The classic human interest photo that would normally be seen on the cover of National Geographic.
“Maya,” Augie said, jumping from his seat. “Holy crap. She’s hot.”
Zac blurted, “Dude, I saw her first.”
Serena leaned into me. “How did you miss a cellar full of people?”
“I was too busy removing heads,” I said.
The cabin yesterday had a cellar full of people too. I assumed they were cannon fodder for the Forevers. That they used them as food. An energy resource. But these people weren’t just being trafficked for food. There was something else going on. Poe said he was up to something. I needed to find out what.
Augie had a stupid grin watching the pretty face on screen. This kid’s hard-on would seriously get him into trouble one day. And probably get me killed.
He turned to me and said, “That fire was out of control. How could anyone have survived?”
“They couldn’t,” I said.
“She did, dude,” Augie said. “Look at her.”
I shook my head. “Anyone trapped in a cellar would have died in that fire.”
“Are you blind?” Augie said. “She’s right there. Alive.”
My mind processed the possibilities. But all the paths diverged into one. There was only one way she could have survived that fire.
“She didn’t survive,” I said.
“But she’s—”
“She’s not real, August,” I said. “She’s Forever.”
Chapter 26
My Pal Blake
I headed down the hall of Zac’s studio to the last room on the right. Luckily, this building had a freight elevator that you can back a truck up to. Last thing I needed was for people to see me carrying a metal cage with a person inside, screaming his head off that he’s been abducted.
I opened the door and sat in a wooden chair. Glanced at the storage freezer in the far corner. Next to it lay a large metal barrel. Like the kind they haul toxic waste in. Or in my case, hydroflouric acid. It leaves the acid clean so there’s no evidence of what’s been melted.
I sat for a few minutes, staring at him. I leaned in, twiddling my thumbs. “Tell me about Poe and his associates.”
Blake sat in the center of the cage, afraid to touch the bars. He was already zapped a few times and the strength of the electric shock increased every time he touched them. The bars were warded, so it only affected his kind, which allowed me to drag his ass up here in the first place.
The cage magic kept him weak and the Ore built into the bars kept him from teleporting. I wish it held a truth serum for anyone trapped inside.
I’d have to work on that.
Blake flipped me off. “Fuck off, hunter.” He laughed a high-pitched cackle.
The kid was still a smug little asshole. I needed to rattle his cage. Pun intended. Lucky for him, I saved a few souvenirs from yesterday. One which Augie was very familiar. I meandered to the freezer, opened it, and pulled out the first frozen treat I set my hand on.
Kids, don’t try this at home.
I tossed it to Blake. Arnold’s frozen head rolled across the floor and settled in front of him, his open eyes staring at him.
I couldn’t have planned it better.
Blake yelped and jumped back. “What the fuck, man? What the fuck!”
“You know this guy, don’t you?”
“You’re a fucking psycho!”
“I raided their cabin yesterday. Took down a handful of them. He was one. I call him Arnold. Tell me what you know about Arnold.”
“His name isn’t Arnold. It’s Reno.”
Notice how he still referred to him in present tense, as if the head was still alive. Forevers are creepy, sick sons of bitches.
<
br /> “Tell me about him.”
“He came by the house quite a bit and talked with Poe and Quinn. He moved cargo from the big guy to Quinn. Handled most of the livestock.”
When he said words like cargo or livestock, he meant victims. He didn’t see them as people. He saw them as freight. Objects to be owned. Or cattle. Animals to be slaughtered.
“The big guy,” I said. “Poe’s boss?”
“Partner,” he said, scoffing. “Poe answers to no one, brah.”
“What’s this partner’s name?”
“We just call him Mr. B. I don’t know what the B stands for.” He stared at Arnold’s head. I kept my name. I liked it better. “Can you get his head out of my face? The fucker is lookin’ right at me, brah.”
I had one more head in the fridge. I reached in the freezer and grabbed the one with the tentacled teeth. Threw it down next to Arnold. Its appendages flopped across the floor and plopped near the cage. “What can you tell me about that?”
“What the fuck, man! That shit is real.”
“What is it?”
“How would I know? I never saw it before.”
“He was in the cabin. His energy signature was the same as the rest of them. But he’s obviously not Forever.”
“You fuckin’ think?” He gawked at the Cthulhu-looking head. “It kind of looks like Gary but his face is all fucked up. Jesus, look at that thing, it’s fucking brutal.”
“Where did Gary come from, Blake?”
“Man, how am I supposed to know? People walk in and out of that house like they own the place. I can’t keep up with what goes on there and where they all came from. I’m just a grunt.”
“You’re not being very helpful.”
“Give him a couple minutes, brah. You can ask him yourself.”
The heads were already beginning to thaw. There was a feeling in the air when they regenerated a new body. A certain smell, like ozone, only unnatural. Or the scent of morning dew but instead of fresh it was stale. The hairs in my nose twitched. It was the stench. The room was thick with it.
I opened the lid to the metal barrel. Lowered in the Cthulhu head. It sizzled as it evaporated in the acid. I took Arnold and dropped him in after.
Blake glared at me something awful. “You’re a fucking monster.”
“That’s the pot calling the kettle black. Don’t you think?”
My mind cut to the news reel. My instinct didn’t sit well with the lone survivor from the fire. It didn’t make sense she was Forever if she was trapped in the basement.
Only humans were kept in cellars for their life force. Forevers wouldn’t cannibalize their own kind for a cheap hit of life current. Not that they cared about each other, but when they drain a person’s life force, it goes through a siphoning process. Their body transmutes human energy into usable energy for itself. They might have two, three, or dozens of different people’s life force inside them at any given time. They prefer to steal it from humans. Keeps the energy pure. Undiluted. And much stronger than if they were to steal it from other Forevers.
If she wasn’t locked in the cellar as an energy resource, why would a Forever be held prisoner?
I had Zac print out the image of the young woman who survived. I held it up to Blake. “Who is she?”
He slowly tilted his head. “My ribs are killing me. What the hell did you pump into me?”
“A toxin that your body is allergic to,” I said. “Answer the question.”
“Never saw her. I don’t know who the hell she is.”
“Don’t lie to me, boy.”
“I’m not lying.”
“She was in your cellar.”
“Oh, she was one of those.”
“Is she Forever?”
“I told you,” he said, turning away from me. “I never saw her before. I don’t know. I didn’t have anything to do with the people in the basement. That was all Poe and Quinn. I wasn’t allowed to go down there.”
“Who are they trafficking?”
“Everybody.”
“Are you one of the body snatchers?”
“I might be,” he said, grinning. “I just do what he tells me.”
“What are the specifications for the targets? Who is he looking for?”
“Why should I tell you?”
I waved my hand over the table in the corner. It held a Glock, machete, several knives, a hammer, and a gasoline tank with a handy funnel attached. “Because you don’t want to die an agonizingly slow death.”
“Poe just gives me specifics when he needs them. I go find the person who fits the specs. I bring them to him and he traffics them. I don’t know what he does with them or where they go after. And I don’t care.”
“Poe said he was up to big things.”
“You could say that,” he said, chuckling under his breath.
“What is he up to?”
“He’s gonna change the world, man.”
“Change the world how?”
Behind me, Augie flew into the room. His sleeves were rolled up.
Blake went ballistic with excitement. “Hey, Augie. Want to let me out of here, bud? We can go play video games. We have to finish our Warcraft—”
“Shut your mouth,” Augie said. “You’re not my buddy.”
“But we’re pals, man. Friends to the end, remember?”
“Don’t call me your friend,” Augie said, standing next to me. “You killed my mom.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, with a fake smirk of regret, like he ate Augie’s leftovers without permission.
I stepped closer to Blake. “Who drained her?” I asked. “Was it you?” I knew it wasn’t, but I needed him to answer.
“It was all me, man.” I cast him a look of doubt. “What? Think I don’t have that kind of juice? Think I can’t get it up? I ain’t no limp biscuit, brah.”
I grabbed the machete off the table and clanged it on the bars. “Tell me the truth. Was it really you?”
He chuckled. “Naaaah, it was Poe. He drained her good, eh?”
Augie kicked the bars. “You don’t get to talk about my mom!”
Blake’s eyes drilled into Augie. “We followed you for awhile. Been to your house a few times in the middle of the night. Brah, you never even knew we were there. We would teleport into your room and watch you sleep. Hell, we’d watch your mom sleep. What a MILF. She was pretty hot for an older chick. You were such easy prey, brah. Pathetic.”
Augie kicked the cage hard. “Shut up! You’re an asshole, Blake. I thought you were my friend. You’re not even human.”
“I was never your friend, bud,” he said. “How could I be? You’re a Grade A loser.” Augie was about to kick the cage again.
I threw up my arm and held him back. “Enough,” I said.
“We need to hurt him, Ivy,” Augie said, his eyes wet with tears. “We need to hurt him real bad.”
Blake laughed. “Is little Augie McKenzie finally getting a backbone? You little dorkus, you wouldn’t know your own spine if I pulled it out and beat you with it.”
I held Augie back as he thrashed, trying to get to Blake.
Augie’s face was red. His veins bulged. “You fucking asshole,” Augie said. “I just killed ten of you fucking pricks today, you little shit!”
It was actually only five. I killed twelve on my own. But if it helped Augie’s self-esteem, I’d let him have the win.
Blake was rolling with laughter.
He knew how to push Augie’s buttons. Blake leaned forward in the cage. “Dude, you can’t even talk to the chick in your own band,” he said. “You’re scared shitless. If I was there, I would’ve had her already. She’d be mine because you’re a fucking pussy. I would’ve banged her in front of you just to piss you off. To be honest, she’s not even my type. She ain’t even that hot. More of a loser dork like you. But take off those glasses and let her hair down? She could almost be fuckable. Almost. With a paper bag over her head.”
Augie exploded. Spit flew f
rom his lips as he cursed at him like I’ve never seen him curse before. I could have stopped it before Blake carried on, but I wanted to see how it played out. If Augie could control himself.
He couldn’t.
Augie was wily and slipped from my grip. He snatched the Glock from the table and got close to Blake. Before he could fire, Blake lunged from inside the cage, ripping the gun from Augie’s hand.
I swiped the machete down on Blake’s forearm, severing it from his body.
He screamed. And recoiled back in the cage.
Lying at Augie’s feet, the Glock was still in the severed hand. I grabbed the pistol and kicked the severed arm to the door, away from its owner.
Blake screamed in the cage as his stump spurted blood. Fingers pushed through the stump, writhing from the mangled flesh. A bloody hand emerged, grasping at the air.
In less than fifteen seconds, Blake’s hand and arm were back. Bloody but whole.
I shoved Augie from the room, thrusting him against the hallway wall. “You’re acting like a child,” I said. “Just because you got lucky in that house doesn’t mean you can lose control with even one of them. You hear? Come back when you’ve calmed your ass down,” I said.
“Did you hear what he said?”
“I heard. Remember the rules. Don’t let anger be your steering wheel. Let it be your fuel.”
“But he—”
“Come back when you’re in control, August. We’re done.”
I went back in the room, closed the door, and locked it.
I wasn’t sure how long it would take Augie to learn to control himself. He was just a kid. Most fifty year olds couldn’t even control themselves, how could I expect a millennial to? Especially in the presence of his mother’s killer?
Maybe I was asking too much from him too fast.
Probably.
Definitely.
But the world we live in doesn’t show mercy. Here, mercy gets you killed. Hesitation gets someone else killed. And losing control let’s the bad guys win.
I needed to discover Poe’s location. I needed to know what he was doing with his prisoners. And I needed answers fast.
Grace was running out of time.
I passed my hand over the corner table. The tools of torture. The good thing about Forevers is that, with their healing factor, if you learn to enjoy yourself, you can go at it for hours.
Memoirs of a Monster Killer: Killing Forever Book 1 Page 15
