Day of Execution

by Lily Luchesi

“Hello, gentlemen. I am sure you’re all on tight schedules, so I’ll make this quick and simple for you. In London, I provided a service to the city and Scotland Yard by helping them hunt down and execute paranormals who killed human beings. Thus keeping humans safer.

  “This is my first visit to America, and less than a day after my arrival, I find a feral vampiress feeding upon a small child right out in the open. There were no policemen nearby, no one to keep this vampiress in line. She was like an animal,” Angelica began. “Do you all want to know why I am even in the city?”

  They all glanced at each other, and DiMauro nodded.

  “I have followed one of the deadliest vampires to the city from London. He has so far murdered five young women, all of them from prominent families. I assume you’re investigating this, Chief?” She arched an eyebrow and the Chief paled.

  “We had no idea it was a vampire,” he said finally, wiping at his brow. “It’s been puzzling our detectives. No trace has been left of the killer, except the signature marks on each victim’s throat.”

  “Circular bites. And yet you claim to not know it was a vampire?” Angelica knew her voice was rising, but she couldn’t help herself. “Have you no tracking system? No force in place like Scotland Yard has with me?”

  “Let me guess, Miss Cross … you want to change that?” DiMauro asked. “You want us to risk life and limb to round up monsters like you?”

  Angelica knew he was trying to hurt her feelings, but he didn’t know that she didn’t have as thin skin as other young women of that age. “I want, Mr. DiMauro, for you men to wake up and smell the bloodshed. People are dying. And next it could be your wives, your daughters … or one of your mistresses.”

  He sat back in his chair, eyeing her warily.

  “What do you want, Miss Cross?” Dumond asked. “You know the Corps are always there to help humans.”

  “But your job is to help with security and combat. Your forte isn’t investigating murders,” Angelica replied. “What I want is permission to set up surveillance around the city, and possibly enlist some brave humans, vampires, and werewolves to assist me in keeping the city safe from whatever goes bump in the night.”

  “Sounds … selfless,” DiMauro said. “What do you get out of it?”

  She turned to face him completely. “What I get is a way to search for the murderer I followed here, and a way to hunt. I am a vampire, half-blood or not, and we all crave the chase, the hunt, the killing of our prey. This will ensure I don’t wind up like the woman I killed the other night, feral and bloodthirsty.”

  Again, the dealer backed away, as far as his chair would let him. Angelica saw McCoy smirk beneath his thick moustache.

  “This is going to be expensive, Miss Cross. How do you plan to reimburse the city for the expenses?” he asked.

  “You worry about carrying out my orders. I’ll worry about the financial side. What I need from the three of you is cooperation. No one will take a foreign woman of my age seriously. McCoy, I need you to carry out the legal matters for me. I will detail those momentarily.

  “Dumond, I’d like you to recruit employees for me. Assure them that they will be paid handsomely if they meet my standards. Any species will do.

  “And you,” she turned to DiMauro. “I need weapons. And you’re the best in the business. And yes, I am prepared to pay.”

  The men glanced at each other again. Aside from the mayor, they were the only “officials” in Chicago who knew that creatures like her existed. Like it or not, she needed them to be on board.

  “One more question, and it is important,” McCoy said. “How are you going to cover your tracks? What will you build to hide your … business?”

  She grinned. “I have an idea…”

  The first blood bank was said to have opened in a hospital in Chicago in 1937. Alas, that was untrue. The first one opened in 1881, fronting as a Cook County clinic, run by a woman called Nurse Angelica Cross. The bank treated vampires, shifters, ghouls, and other creatures, giving them blood, organs, and anything they required to feed safely and not kill humans.

  It was considered a success, and no one ever found out what she was doing behind the scenes. Until 1920.

  Chicago, Illinois

  October, 1920

  Being wealthy, otherworldly, and vaguely threatening worked for Angelica in Chicago. She received a new false identification regularly, to accommodate her unchanging appearance and lack of aging. Business licenses were renewed, and her relationship with the Chicago Police Department was rock solid. She was married to a wonderful man, Jonathan Price, and they had just celebrated their eighth anniversary.

  The only problem was, she still hadn't caught Vincent. It was a blot on the surface of her legacy. Every criminal she caught and executed meant nothing to her if he was still on the loose.

  One autumn afternoon she was in her office when there was a knock at the door.

  “Enter,” she called.

  Two men in sharp, bespoke suits walked in, wearing tinted glasses to guard against the glare of the sun.

  “Hello, may I help you?” she asked, assuring that her Chicago accent was in place and they never suspected that she was born in England.

  “Mrs. Angelica Price?” one man asked.

  “Yes. I repeat, how can I help you?” she asked, not liking the way they were glaring at her from behind those silly glasses.

  “My name is Agent Edwin Shanahan, and this is my partner, Agent James Rooney.”

  Partner my British arse, Angelica thought. Whoever this Rooney was, he was definitely in charge and Shanahan was just performing an inept misdirection.

  “We were given this address from Chief Santorini,” Rooney continued.

  Shit. Santorini was the new police Chief, after McCoy retired. And he didn't like Angelica, or any vampires, for that matter.

  “We’re from the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” Shanahan explained. “Our Chicago chapter just opened today, on Roosevelt.”

  “How lovely for you,” Angelica said. “And what have I done to warrant a visit from you on this … momentous day?” She twirled a pen in her hand, wishing it was a knife.

  Shanahan grimaced. “I’d advise you to curb the attitude, Mrs. Price.”

  Rooney held his hand out. “Now, be nice, Edwin.” He turned to Angelica and said, “We are aware that you have had an agreement with local law enforcement regarding the apprehension and execution of … non-human perpetrators since 1881, is that correct?”

  Angelica nodded. “Yes, that’s true. And aside from my using former Chief McCoy to assist in getting permits in my stead, I assure you everything is being done by the books. Why is the FBI interested in a few errant vampires and werewolves?”

  “Would you be willing to answer a few questions, Mrs. Price?” Rooney asked. “We have an offer we’d like to make, but cannot clear it just yet. We need a chance to have a tête-à-tête.”

  “Our offices aren’t far,” Shanahan added.

  “And my offices are right here. So if you please, I’ll have my husband get you some refreshments and we can speak freely here,” Angelica said. No way in Hell would she be going anywhere with these two. She gestured to the guest chairs and said, “Please have a seat.”

  They did so, but Angelica could tell they weren’t happy about it. She was sure that neither man had ever been upstaged and ordered about by a woman, and one who looked so young at that.

  “You have your husband bringing refreshments?” Shanahan said, clearly aghast.

  “When he’s not manning the front desk, yes. I assume you met him when you came in,” Angelica said. She knew what they were thinking, that it was unorthodox for a man to be a secretary and the woman to be working in the office adjacent. But Jonathan wasn’t a secretary, he was also an accomplished hunter. It paid to look unassuming for others to see.

  “Mrs. Price, running an independent law enforcement division, no matter how … strange the criminals you apprehend are … is illegal,” Rooney sa
id. “But we aren’t here to punish you just yet.”

  ‘Yet’ being the operative word, Angelica thought.

  “This blood bank … it helps feed creatures to keep humans safe, correct?”

  She nodded. “Fed monsters equal safe humans. It’s simple arithmetic.”

  “We agree. In fact, we’d like to set up more offices like yours all across the country. But until we clear up a few formalities, we cannot hope to move forward with that,” Rooney explained.

  “Why did you make McCoy get the permits and not you?” Shanahan asked.

  She cocked her head and said, “Because the patriarchy doesn’t look kindly on anyone with a vagina making a living for themselves.”

  In all her years on Earth, she had never seen two men blush and stutter so much after she uttered that sentence. What was it about the V-word that frightened them so much? It was amusing.

  “I’ve since turned the papers over in my husband’s name,” she added. “Which is my legal right to do so.”

  “Right, then. Um … okay.” Rooney seemed to collect himself quickly enough. “There were two instances where your operatives questioned and killed humans. Can you explain that?”

  “Certainly.” You horse-faced jackass. “Those humans were hunters who killed law-abiding creatures. Regardless of what species the victim is, murder is murder. I will not stand there and let my kin be hunted like animals by uneducated humans with religious delusions. I have never murdered an innocent. Unlike them.”

  Rooney nodded. “I will need proof.”

  “I keep meticulous records,” she replied.

  “And last … why did you ever come to Chicago from London? What did you hope to do here that you can’t in England?” Shanahan asked.

  At that, Angelica gave her first non-sarcastic or defensive response, explaining about her father’s murder spree and tracking him here before the trail went cold.

  Both men’s eyes widened and they were silenced. Rooney spoke first after she was done explaining.

  “We’re very sorry to hear about your mother, Mrs. Price. Vincent sounds like, well, if you’ll excuse the word, a real monster. And we’d like to help you find him.”

  Angelica remembered what DiMauro had told her and repeated his words to the agents. “Why do you want to help me? What will the FBI get out of it?”

  “Truth?” Shanahan said, looking glum. “Creatures are a problem all over the country. And you are the only person who has made any progress with helping the decent ones and apprehending the evil ones. We want to incorporate what you’ve created here as a division of the FBI all over America. With you as the director. We need you, as much as I hate to admit it.”

  “As long as you have a goal — finding Vincent — we can keep you on our payroll,” Rooney added.

  At that, Angelica bristled. “I don’t need your money, Mr. Rooney. I’ve got my own. You can pay for weaponry, office space, and permits. I will handle the rest, just as I’ve been for nearly forty years now.”

  What she didn’t say was that she’d wanted to expand her business for a while, but had seen no way to move forward without many roadblocks. Now they came in and gave her exactly what she was looking for.

  She agreed that she and Jonathan would meet with them the next day, and they left. Angelica looked at the miniaturized portrait she kept in a frame on her desk, of her beautiful mother.

  “Soon, Mother,” she whispered. “I’ll get your revenge.”

  PID HQ

  February, 2111

  Chicago, Illinois

  Angelica ejected Danny from her memories then, feeling drained and sleepy. Talking a literal walk down memory lane was always a little too much for her.

  “I’m not quite sure what’s cooler: you being a badass way back then, or seeing you fight literal zombies,” Sean said with a wide smile.

  She smiled back and then turned to Daniel. “Well? Was it everything you hoped?”

  He nodded. “It’s amazing to be a part of this. I mean, back then sounds like Hell for women, and you built all of this by yourself. No wonder everyone wants to defeat you: they’re jealous.”

  She laughed as Danny put his arms around her shoulders from behind.

  “I remember that day now. You were so tough when we went to see them the next day. I think you scared the living daylights out of Rooney. I was so proud of you, proud to say that I was your husband.”

  “Are you still proud to say that?” she asked quietly.

  “More than ever.”

  In that moment, all was right in her little world. She had her best friend, she had her husband, and she had Daniel, who was, by all rights, her great-grandson. She wished she could bottle up a moment and relive it over and over, taking little sips and bits whenever things got tough, to remind her that there was good all around her, and within her. Even when she couldn’t see or feel it.

  There was a pinging sound and she said, “Sean, there’s a message for you.”

  “Not me. I put the computer on sleep mode,” he said, but went to check it anyway. “It turned itself on.”

  Angelica glanced at Danny and then back at Sean. “Is it okay? Not gonna explode, right?”

  “I guess it’s okay. That’s weird,” he said, clicking a few keys.

  There was another electronic sound, this time coming from Danny’s pocket.

  “That a smartphone in your pocket or are you happy to see me?” Angelica joked. But beneath the jovial outside, she was worried. Her subconscious knew there was something bad happening.

  He took his phone out and said, “Is this a scam number?”

  The number read: 846-2368. No area code.

  “It’s a text. Who scams through text?” Daniel asked.

  “What’s it say?” Sean asked.

  Danny opened it and said, “Nothing. Just a bunch of gibberish, like a baby got ahold of a phone and sent a text by mistake.”

  “Ignore it,” Daniel said. And then his phone beeped. He checked it and said, “Same number.” He opened it and his face paled. “But I can read this.”

  He showed everyone the screen, which read one word: “4NG3L1C4”.

  “Angelica,” Danny whispered. “But why the numbers in place of letters?”

  Angelica felt gooseflesh break out on her skin. “Because spirits sometimes get things crossed when they try to contact us. Including demons.”

  “You think this is from Hell?” Daniel asked, looking at his phone like it was going to bite him.

  Before she could reply, her phone beeped. Pulling it out, she saw the same number and then opened it. This message was clear, but still jumbled with numbers. “G0 2 H3LL.”

  “Is it just me or is the early twentieth century text speak making these just a little less effective?” Danny asked, peering over her shoulder.

  “They just can’t get through properly yet,” Angelica said. “Sean, send the Coven members to the portal and have tech reset our Wi-Fi and satellite. Hopefully we can force whatever this is out.”

  Sean nodded and made the calls. As he was about to hang up the phone’s buttons began clicking and he dropped the receiver from his hand like it was hot. Another button clicked and it went on speakerphone. The caller ID also read “846-2368” without an area code.

  The voice wasn’t a voice, per se. It sounded like a cross between an old man’s whisper and an electronic recording. It was talking over itself, or there were more than one in their airwaves.

  “Go on, Angelica.”

  “He’s waiting!”

  “Open the door, it’s right there.”

  “Go down below.”

  “Come visit, he’s been waiting so long.”

  “Go to Hell, Angelica.”

  Sean kept trying to hit the receiver button, but it wasn’t working. The voices kept coming, repeating the same thing over and over again on the speaker. They kept talking faster, over and over, going over each other until it was just gibberish interspersed with her name being called.

  Fina
lly Danny had had enough. He tugged on the cord leading into the wall and yanked, pulling it out and breaking some of the plaster as well. The voices died out, and Angelica only then realized that her knees were trembling.

  She leaned over the guest chair and gripped it so tightly that her nails shredded the padded backing.

  “Does that mean they’re in here, now?” Daniel asked, face ashen.

  “No,” Angelica said. “They’re in the Wi-Fi, the phone lines, the satellites. God knows where else. But they want me, that’s evident.”

  Danny, still holding the phone cord, said, “What do we do to get them out?”

  “Hopefully resetting everything pushed them out,” Sean said. “It all went back online just a second ago.”

  “The message is gone from my phone,” Daniel said.

  Angelica went to reply when the lights started flickering above them. The phone began to emit a high pitched squealing sound. The noise was grating on the vampires’ sensitive hearing, as well as the flickering was damaging their eyesight,

  “Oh Hell, guys, look outside,” Sean said.

  They did, seeing that the buildings around them were all flickering on and off, the square windows like some insane light show. Eventually only the building directly across from their window kept flickering, the windows lighting up to read one word: “HELL”.

  Angelica felt as though she couldn’t breathe. What did they want from her? What did they want with vampires again? In her career, she had never thought that demons were in the top five of the creatures she had to worry about rising up, but ever since Leander had shown her the prophecy regarding her royal status, they had been dogging her.

  Where are the angels, anyway? she wondered. Isn’t this their job, not mine?

  Sean’s shut computer screen turned on the black reboot screen, and a white cursor could be seen flashing. It began to type on its own, reading, “SEE YOU SOON.” No more numbers. They had gotten their message across. And Angelica knew that there was only one way to stop them from possibly creating an electrical charge so great, the city would explode.

  “Looks like I need to take a little trip downstairs … again.”