Shadow Born: A Joseph Hunter Novel: Book 1 (Joseph Hunter Series) Page 7

  “You send him on his way?”

  “We contacted his field supervisor and we’re working it out with her. The officer is still outside our taped perimeter.” He cleared his throat. “You notice anything?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Same as in the parking garage. We have Ravens traveling together. They feasted on Derek and Marie, but allowed Mel to live. Too many inconsistencies there. Ravens don’t work well together, first off. They would kill each other for the blood. Second, they wouldn’t have the control to kill twice, to taste blood, but let Mel—” I bit my lip, hesitant to speak the next part, “a virgin, live.” Virgin blood held purer life force than any other blood. That’s why vampires preferred to feed on children, when possible—that, and children were weak and vulnerable. “It only adds up to a Nephil—which doesn’t add up at all.”

  In my mind, it was simple. There were two types of vampires—those cursed and in service to a Nephil, and those just cursed by a Nephil. There was only one difference between the two beings. One of them was under complete control by the Nephil, while the other lived as a slave to the actual curse. If the raven vampires had the willpower and control to not kill Mel, to no kill me at first sight back in the garage, that meant they were controlled by something way more powerful than themselves.

  Xander glanced at his phone and spun it in a circle. “If you believe the words of the Raven”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “About them… taking Mel alive.” He glanced back up at me, frowning.

  “I believe it,” I said, smiling. Not a real smile, though. Never one of those. More of a nervous grin, because I needed to believe more than I actually did. “Why wouldn’t her body be here with the other two? She’s alive. I feel it.”

  “Okay,” Xander said. “I believe you.”

  “Either way, the Ravens worked together and they worked intelligently. They created a distraction for me and drew me away from here. That means they somehow knew my schedule and my routines. The Nephil knew how to manipulate me—so, the fucker also knows my past.” I chewed on a thumbnail. “Only Nephil I’ve ever known is Hephaestus and I’ve never even met that one in person.” I chewed on my cheek for a second. “But it’s not him doing this.”

  “Sorry, man,” Xander said, wearing that concerned look again. I think he feared my trigger, which I don’t blame him for. I was known to be a little… explosive and unpredictable. “But you’ve fallen into a predictable pattern lately.”

  “Yeah, I have,” I said, remaining calm for the moment.

  Xander cleared his throat, then grabbed his phone and pocketed it. “Four M.I.S. hunters that were stationed in front of the house are now dead,” he said. “Sucked clean.” He sighed. “My fifth and sixth hunters were hidden on the roof as snipers. They’re dead, too. When the check-in party arrived, they said a darkness had settled around the property that shrouded the area in an inky black. One man went in it, didn’t come back out. His body was also found on the property, dried.”

  “What did the survivors say? They get descriptions? A direction? Anything?”

  Xander shook his head. “No. They saw the darkness, too. Said it moved like a fog rolling out, then it just… dispersed.”

  “You ever hear of anything like that?” I asked, scratching behind my ear. “A fog like darkness?” I thought about the woman I had faced in the garage, how she had glitched around the shadows—how I had fired at her and the bullets had gone through her head as if she were no more than mist or fog.

  “I have,” Xander said, nodding. His face had fallen somber, his posture stiff. “Umbrakinesis, or shadow magic. Used only by the Nephil in the Underworld. Has your reputation extended beyond our world?”

  My reputation. Ha! Without getting into too much detail, I’ll just say that some kids are afraid of the bogeyman. Well, the bogeyman used to be afraid of me. I’ve always been good at one thing—destruction—and people used to pay me to kill monsters. Most Cursed knew my name, as did Acolytes. If a Nephil had bestowed power or curses to a follower, chances are that I’ve killed one of their people in my past.

  I ran through my list of enemies—mostly enemies acquired through my service to Hephaestus—and I couldn’t recall one name from the Underworld. But that made sense. Underworld Nephil were assigned to protect the gates of Hell and keep the Fallen—fallen angels or demons—from returning to this universe.

  “Any theories?” I asked, my mind blank.

  “With consideration to your theory about control, and the evidence at hand, I have a few,” Xander said. “But before I voice them, I’d like to hear what our prisoner has to say. See if he can narrow my thoughts.”

  I didn’t press him. Why entertain every idea that popped into his head? If he had a hunch, and if our prisoner could confirm or deny that hunch, then we would do that.

  “You need to know something,” Xander said.

  “What’s that?”

  “The Raven shifted back to human form without blood. I’ve never heard of such a thing—for a vampire to switch between Raven and human without feeding, or going hungry.”

  I didn’t exactly know how to use that information, and with each passing second thundering in my head, I went a little crazier and wild. Stagnation didn’t help with my acute awareness of expiring time, which meant I had to do something. I had to move, to act.

  “Where’s that piece of shit at?” I asked.

  The Andersons’ garage was cramped with Christmas boxes and a large worktable, but the limited space worked fine for my needs. Four M.I.S. hunters stood guard around the detained vampire.

  He had shifted from Raven to vampire—appearing more human than most of your neighbors. He had curly, blonde hair and blue eyes and tanned skin. He looked like he should have been barefoot on a beach instead of in the gloomy Sacramento Valley. The vampire sat restrained in a plastic chair near a jolly Santa gnome. His hands were cuffed beneath the seat and his ankles were shackled to the chair legs.

  “What’s the ring about?” I asked, squatting before him and removing a necklace from his neck with a black ring attached to it. I held the piece of jewelry up, inspecting it like I knew what I was looking at. A white-painted symbol was etched into the thickness of the band. When he didn’t answer quick enough, I asked, “You know who I am?”

  He scoffed and grinned. “Do you know who you are?”

  That struck a humorous chord, and I couldn’t help but chuckle out the ominous bad guy response. “Eh, strike one,” I said. “Hopefully the rest of this quiz doesn’t go so poorly for you. A failing grade, and, well, you die.” I cleared my throat and stood, spreading out my arms to showcase myself. “I—you sexy, blonde buffoon—am your best friend. Think of me as Jesus Christ, your one and only savior. The only person who stands between you and eternal torment. Which reminds me. I’m also the devil.” I glanced over my shoulder to check on Xander. He stood a few feet behind me, Glock in hand. Refocusing on the vampire, I said, “Let’s start with something simple, something unimportant. Say,” I held out the ring, “this. What is it?”

  “It’s just a ring,” he said. “Bought it in a gift shop in Hawaii. Ever been?”

  I warmed my hand with a splash of flame and slapped the vampire across the face. The left side of his cheek crackled and burned and he hissed with pain.

  “Listen, let’s make this easy for both us. Yeah? I make the jokes around here. Understood? Now, what is the ring about? What’s the symbol stand for?”

  The vampire glared at me, doubling down on his insolence.

  In my experience—with humans as well as monsters—torture worked in two ways. One, the prisoner had information and refused to say anything, no matter what. Two, the prisoner knew nothing and confessed to everything, truthful or otherwise. My best bet was to keep the vampire off-balance, to shift the conversation from subject to subject, trying to rattle him into making a mistake.

  When he didn’t respond quickly enough, I did just that—jumped ship, changed the topic, and
tried to throw something out to gauge a reaction. “Why did the Nephil come for this house?” I asked. I didn’t really care about the ring, anyway. I cared about Mel and what had happened to her. If I could fluster him enough, he might make a mistake with a question that mattered.

  He held his smirk, showcasing his teeth—they weren’t fanged anymore.

  “Did your friends come here for the girl?” I asked.

  “For the girl,” he repeated. “For Melanie.”

  I squeezed his ring in my hand. The metal edges bit into my palm. The light pain kept me lucid enough to ignore the fact that the vampire had uttered my daughter’s name—her full first name. “Why?” I asked, my voice trembling as I struggled to control my emotions. I guess he had caught me off-guard. The interrogation wasn’t going as I had hoped.

  “We are only told what to do, not why we do it. Taking you and the girl alive was the assignment,” he said. “The only instruction.” He showed his perfect teeth again. They made me want to floss, which made me hate him even more. If there’s one thing I can’t stand about dental hygiene, it’s flossing.

  “So, who sent you? Who do you answer to?”

  Without allowing the corners of his lips to drop, he said, “You’ll never see her again—Melanie. Not unless you surrender.”

  That did it. That simple statement rattled me beyond hope.

  I shot forward and grabbed the back of his head in both my hands, then threw his face to the ground. His nose cracked and blood spread around him. He coughed and moaned, still restrained to the chair. I lifted him back up by his hair, setting the chair on all four legs. He no longer appeared so attractive.

  “Did I wipe that fucking smile from your face?” I asked. “Because if I see it again, I’ll have my friend back here—” I turned and gestured to Xander, “cut your lips off.” I patted the vampire’s mopped head and grinned. “We clear?” Turning a circle, I scanned the cluttered garage for water. “Someone get this man a cup of water so he can wash the blood off his face.”

  One of the M.I.S. hunters hustled into the house.

  The vampire wheezed for breath. After a second, he held up his head and faced me. “We’ll get to you,” he muttered through his wrecked face. “If it means killing your daughter like we killed your pretty wife.” He coughed, spraying a mist of blood onto the floor.

  “What did you say?”

  He didn’t smile, apparently taking my threat to heart, but I saw his lips strain as he fought against a smirk. He rubbed his bloodied face across his shoulder. “Before Callie died, we enthralled her, though it didn’t take too much convincing.” He licked his lips.

  “Joey,” Xander said from behind me. “Careful, now. He’s getting to you.”

  I scratched the side of my head. He mentioned Callie and that night. What did he know about her? Had he killed my wife? Did he know who had?

  The vampire chuckled, then coughed up more blood. “You want to know how big this is—this night? Come here then.” He grinned, testing my threat. “You can’t hide from us any longer. You’ve used your magic again. We have your aura, now.”

  “Joey,” Xander said again.

  I ignored him and stepped toward the vampire. “What?” I asked, leaning toward him.

  “Inside the band,” He whispered, “was an inscription of your initials, along with the Nephilim word for love.”

  “Joey,” Xander said, his voice lost to me as the vampire’s words cascaded over my comprehension.The garage dizzied around me, and I had to drop to a knee for balance. A second later, hands touched upon my shoulder as if to hold me up. Maybe they were. I know I didn’t have the strength to hold myself up.

  “Where… where did you hear that?” I asked, my voice barely audible. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the monster.

  “From her,” he said, grinning.

  Though I shivered, heat welled inside my body and threatened to burst from my skin and devour the entire garage.

  Xander held my shoulders, not allowing me to move. “Joseph, breathe. Don’t do anything rash.”

  The vampire had recited the scribblings that I had etched into the metal of Callie’s wedding band. I swallowed, trying to keep my thoughts on Mel, trying to convince myself to keep the vampire alive.

  “From who?” I asked, not daring to look at him. If he wore a smile, I would lose my mind, and Xander—or anyone else, for that matter—wouldn’t have the strength to hold me back.

  A door closed in the garage. I glanced over and saw that the M.I.S. agent had returned with a red cup. He handed it to me. I stuck my finger in it and allowed the pressing heat to escape my body. I boiled the water, melting some of the plastic. “Let go of me,” I said to Xander. Breathing heavy, I stood, shrugging his hands free of my shoulders. “Thought I told you not to smile again,” I said, staring at the vampire. I poured a small stream of the scalding liquid over his brow.

  His skin reddened and blistered and he screamed.

  Xander grabbed me again. “Joey.”

  I wheeled on him. “Not a good time, Xander.” My face twisted into a grimace. “He knows about Callie and Mel. So, just back away.”

  Without question or comment, he stepped away from me. We had served three tours together, and he knew when I had fallen beyond reason. For me to stop at that point, he would have had to fight me.

  Turning back to the vampire, I held the cup near my waist, finger in the water the entire time, keeping it nice and steamy. “Let’s start from the beginning,” I said. “What’s the symbol on the ring stand for?”

  Vampires, in their human form, felt pain as much as anyone else. By the way this one looked at me—no smile, wide eyes, trembling lips, and half his face bubbled with burns—I figured he had had about enough of the water. “It’s her sign,” he said. “That’s all I know. I swear.”

  “Who is ‘her?’” I asked.

  His eyes were glued to the red cup, shedding a little warm water of their own. “The Mother. We only know her as that. I swear.”

  I held the cup to his lips and tipped it slightly—not enough for the water to spill, but enough for him to feel the steam pouring off the surface. “And that’s who stole my daughter? This Mother?”

  He held his face as still as stone, not wanting to accidentally bump the cup and spill water on himself. “No… she had her Cursed take Melanie.”

  That was it. The Mother was a Nephil and she controlled the Ravens. But who was she? I brought the cup closer to him, letting him sweat. “Where do I find her? This Mother?”

  The vampire gasped. “I don’t know. I’ve only ever seen her in shadows… like earlier. In the garage.”

  “That was her?” I asked, pulling the cup away from his mouth. Maybe torture worked a little better than I had given it credit for earlier. I’d have to revisit the subject sometime.

  The vampire nodded his confirmation.

  “Does she control you and your actions and all of the others when you’re all Ravens?”

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  I glanced back at Xander. He didn’t show surprise, but I knew his heart rate had spiked as much as mine. Now that I had accessed my magic again, I sensed the world through an enhanced perception. I heard Xander’s pulse quicken with the information.

  I rolled my shoulders and cleared my throat. “Who else can I talk to? Someone who knows more about this Mother, and where I can find her.”

  The vampire closed his eyes. “Maybe the Priestess.”

  “Who?”

  “Elizabeth,” he explained. “I don’t know where she lives or what she looks like, but I hear she finds most of… of her victims at the Snake Head Lounge. Goes home with them around closing time. That’s all I know. That’s it.”

  I bit my lip and faced Xander. He scowled at me, eyes narrowed. I didn’t believe the vampire was lying, nor did I believe he knew anything more. We had driven that road to a dead end and now we needed to explore another path.

  “I have one more question,” I said, returning my
attention to the vampire. “This Mother lady, she’s connected to both Callie and Mel?”

  The vampire nodded. “Yes.”

  “Why? Because of me? Because of who I was and what I did?”

  “I… don’t know. But I was there with Callie. I saw her… saw her taken.” Did he choose his words carefully to not remind me she had been murdered?

  “And you were also a part of tonight, a part of Mel’s disappearance.”

  “Yes,” he agreed.

  For a moment, I pondered the information he had provided. Without taking my eyes from the vampire, I said, “Xander, I’m going home to get my weapons.”

  “You’re sure?” Xander asked. His lips twitched upward as he struggled not to smile.

  “I suspect I’ll have some company waiting for me at the house. Some more of his kind.” I nodded at the vampire. “Once they’re gone, though, I’ll get showered and ready to hit the club. It’s barely past ten, now. Night’s still young. You care to accompany me?”

  “You’re inviting me out?” he asked.

  “I mean, it’s been five years since I’ve seen you and all. It’s going to be fun. I’d hate for you to miss out on a good time.”

  He stepped toward me and patted me on the back. “Pregame at your house?”

  “Like old times.” I motioned to make my exit. “Oh, wait.” Turning to face the vampire and the M.I.S. agents, I said, “Sorry, ladies, but we’re going against protocol on this one. No chance for this vampire to find Jesus and turn his life around.”

  I threw the steaming red cup at the vampire, creating a quick distraction, then I reached for Xander’s hip and drew one of his celestial sidearms—the one he’d used to kill the Ravens back in the garage.

  Before anyone had a chance to protest, I popped the champagne and started the party off right.