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Aug
20
Liu hunkered down and examined the carpet.
I just stared at the two little holes in the wall.
So this was where Lilly had been killed. Her own home.
Questions flooded my mind. A forced entry or a familiar face? A struggle or a swift surprise? An unannounced visit or a scheduled meeting? Where had the sword come from? How had the killer managed to get it into the house? An intruder could have brought it with him, but why? There were a thousand easier and less obtrusive weapons, why choose a rare sword? And if a familiar face then when they arrived with a weird looking sword ….
“This carpet has been cleaned recently.” Liu’s words broke in on my thoughts. ”I can smell the cleaner.”
Standing up and turning her back to the wall, she made an arc with her finger, tracing out a semi-circular area that was a slightly different color to the rest of the carpet.
“They tried to clean it up but it’s just not possible with that much blood. It will have soaked through to the padding beneath.”
She went over to a large case she had trundled in on wheels when we first arrived. Out of it she pull an evidence bag and a wicked looking knife.
She sliced out a good hefty chunk of the carpet and the padding under it from by the wall.
“Is that necessary?” I asked. It seemed somehow sacrilegious to be hacking up pieces of Lilly’s home.
“We need to confirm that this is where it happened. If we analyze the carpet and find the victim’s DNA them we know. Until them all we know is that it looks like it could be the place.”
It made sense but I still didn’t like it.
“Do we have to call her ‘the victim’?”
“Yes,” she looked up at me from putting the bagged carpet chunk into the case. ”It helps put distance between you and the crime. And that helps keep the emotion out and the logical thinking in.”
“You’re right,” I said. ”I could do with some distance right now.”
Evidence bagged and stashed, we stepped through the door and entered the office.
It was a large room decorated in a similar art deco style to the living room, but without the photographs.
I couldn’t help smiling at the huge oak desk that took up a good amount of real estate by the wall opposite the door. It was the same desk as the one we’d put Mr. Big Time Producer behind on the night Lilly and I met. When his star had been eclipsed and his fortunes crushed, he’d been forced to sell off his assets. Lilly had bought the desk and set it up in her own office. She said it was a reminder of how things had been and how they still were for others.
Lilly’s laptop sat in the center of the desk, its blank LCD panel facing the big executive chair that, as she put it, Lilly used to luxuriate in.
I pulled the chair out and motioned for Liu to sit. She gave me a questioning look.
“Technology is not my thing,” I explained.
“When were you born?”
“1371,” I replied. ”We still ran DOS in those days.”
She chuckled. ”I thought you weren’t technical.”
“I’m not. But I’m not stupid.”
“Were you born a Vampire or were you changed into one?”
“I was turned in 1401.”
She gave me a mock appraising look.
“You don’t look bad for 639.”
“I work out.”
She chuckled again and then gave her attention to the laptop.
It did its usual start up stuff and finally settled at the login screen. There was just one user: Lilly. It was time to guess the password.
“Any ideas?” asked Liu.
I thought for a moment.
“Try ‘Earl Henry’. Two words both capitalized.”
She did – no luck.
I thought some more.
“Vinland – capital ‘V’ and spelled …”
“I know how to spell it.”
She typed it in … nope.
I thought some more. I knew Lilly. I should be able to guess her password.
“Where did those guesses come from?” asked Liu.
“Lilly used to love the story of how I became a Vampire. I was guessing she’d use something from the parts she liked best.”
“So who was ‘Earl Henry’? A hero or a villain?”
“He was …,” I stopped. Of course. Lilly loved the underdog and Earl Henry was the leader of a group of underdogs. And there was a story about those underdogs, background to my story, but one that Lilly had me tell her many times.
“Try ‘The Knights Templar’,” I told Liu.
She did and … that was it.
“Hmm,” said Liu. ”I think I’d like to hear those stories myself some time.”
“Certainly,” I said. ”Maybe when all this is over we’ll make a date.”
“Sounds good,” she said. ”Can my fiance come too?”
“What a disappointment. Oh well, I guess so. Now …,” I waved at the screen.
After a careful look at the desktop and the task bar, Liu clicked on a yellowish-brown icon. ”Microsoft Office Outlook,” said the splash screen.
It opened at email but Liu clicked on “Calendar”.
There were several entries in the week of the murder but only one on the day and that was at 7:30 pm.
“That’s probably around the time of the murder,” said Liu.
“Meeting with S…,” was all that was displayed so she double-clicked and the appointment opened.
“Meeting with S to discuss the issue,” it said.
So who the hell was “S”?
Aug
14
Jeez it was creepy.
There I was, a Vampire at night in a graveyard. You’d think I’d be right at home. No friggin’ way. I was totally creeped out.
I sat next to Detective Alvarez in a quiet little golf cart as we made our way through the Hollywood Forever Cemetery, heading for the place where they’d found Lilly’s body. I wished the cart was louder to scare away the ghosts of all those old actors but electric engines just don’t cut it in the scaring off ghouls department.
Alvarez didn’t seem bothered at all by the darkness and the large number of freaky statues that seemed to watch us with mocking eyes as we passed. Why would anyone want to put a statue on their grave? Maybe to creep out people like me?
In case you didn’t know, the Hollywood Forever Cemetery (what a name) is in the center of Hollywood (bet you already guessed that), bordered on its south side by none other than Paramount Pictures. Apparently it has more Hollywood big wigs from the old days than mammoths in the La Brea Tar Pits.
But despite its location and historic significance, to me it was just plain creepy.
I could see that Alvarez was aware of my goose flesh, because he had a suppressed smirk on his face.
“Don’t like graveyards at night?” he asked.
I shivered as we passed a statue of a weird looking cherub. ”I don’t like graveyards, period.”
“I hear that goths are really into them. The local cops regularly get calls about goth couples frolicking amongst the gravestones. Apparently it makes ‘em horny.”
“Yuck.”
“I tried it once with my girlfriend in college,” he said. ”But it didn’t have the desired effect. She just couldn’t relax.”
I was about to express my wholehearted agreement with his girlfriend’s sentiments when what he had said sunk in. ”Girlfriend?” But It thought you said ….”
“Oh no. I was telling you what those morons I work with call me. It’s just one of those denigrating nicknames that good-ole-boys come up with when trying to maintain a specious sense of superiority.”
“Oh. I see.” Now that was promising news. Suddenly the graveyard seemed a bit less creepy. Maybe the goths were onto something after all.
“I was in vice before homicide,” he explained. ”Sometimes you act as a john to catch female prostitutes and sometimes to catch gay male prostitutes. So after catching a few gay males, moron’s start making stupid jokes and coming up with stupid nicknames. Thus we end up with ‘Lucy and the Fag’.”
I decided I was feeling cold, so I shifted a tad closer on the seat and gave a little shiver, hoping to attract a warming arm.
“But Jen and I don’t mind,” he continued, an affectionate smile warming his face. ”We have each other and that’s what counts.”
Did I hear that right? Wasn’t Liu’s name ‘Jennifer’?
“You mean you and detective Liu?”
A slight look of alarm replaced the smile.
“I shouldn’t have mentioned that. It’s against departmental policy to have a relationship with your partner,” he said.
“Oh, don’t worry,” I said, moving back to my side of the seat, disappointment plain in my voice. “Your secret is safe with me.”
F&^%. Isn’t that always the way? The good looking guys are either already taken or gay.
I was trying to think of which deity to curse when we pulled up at the crime scene. We got out of the cart and walked into an area of open land. The yellow tape was gone, but Alvarez had been there an hour after the body was found, so he knew exactly where to take us.
“Douglas Fairbanks and Douglas Fairbanks Jr. are just over there,” he said, pointing to a small but fancy looking mausoleum with lots of columns. ”And the body was found here,” he was looking down at a patch of grass much like the rest of the grass in the area.
I looked around. There were no gravestones or statues anywhere near. Just grass. A weird place to dump a body.
“The victim was stripped naked and her arms and legs were akimbo.”
“Jeez,” I said. “Sounds like the dead guy at the beginning of the Da Vinci Code.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought at the time. I couldn’t figure out why the killer would dump the corpse in such an exposed place and in that position. I would have thought digging up an old grave and dumping it in would have worked better.”
“So would …,” I stopped. Well, if it were a human corpse I would have, but this was a Vampire corpse. What better place to put it than out in the open where the sun would have burned up the evidence in a matter of minutes.
“So would … what?” asked Alvarez.
How to say it without giving the game away?
“You know those genetic experiments we told you about?”
He nodded.
“Well the gene’s in earlier trials were imperfect and one issue they had was a strong sensitivity to sunlight.”
“You mean the sun would have burnt the corpse to a crisp?”
He caught on fast. Perhaps a little too fast?
“Yeah,” I said. “Something like that.”
“So the killer knew that the victim was a Vam… one of the genetic experiment subjects.”
“I guess so,” I answered, but I had not missed his slip. So he either knew or suspected and was maybe fishing.
“The body was discovered before the sun came up,” he continued. ”The call came in at 3:32 am from a public call box just outside the cemetery. The caller did not identify themselves but the voice was female. If not for that call only a pile of ashes would have been found at 8 am when the grounds people make their rounds.”
I was trying to think of what else to ask about when I heard a faint sound coming from some trees to our left. It was a sort of wet slurping accompanied by an ecstatic groaning.
I touched Alvarez on the arm and said quietly, “Something is going on over by those trees.”
We made our way quietly across the grass, around a boxy mausoleum and over a small road. Now we were close enough that Alvarez could hear it too.
The sound came from a grave on the other side of the trees and as we came around them I could see a group of people dressed in long dark capes and wearing white cloth masks. Two of them held the struggling arms of a skinny guy dressed in black with “Sirenia” on his t-shirt. Down on the ground lay a girl also in black, with black hair and fishnet tights, and sucking at her neck, mask pulled off, was another guy dressed in a long cape.
What? I thought to myself. Not another coven of illegal Vampires.
Aug
10
Detective Liu stared at the people in the photographs and the people in the photographs stared back.
Earlier, Brianna and I had arrived at Parker Center and asked Liu and Alvarez the Big Question. The answer was obvious to them: a) visit the scene of the crime and b) search the victim’s residence.
So Brianna and Alvarez headed off to where the body was found and Liu and I went to Lilly’s house.
Liu had wanted to get a search warrant but when I produced my key and told her I was executor of Lilly’s will she shrugged and off we went.
So now here we were standing in Lilly’s living room surrounded by art deco furniture and pictures of Lilly with famous people. Liu had come searching for suspects from Lilly’s life but all she found were movie stars.
“That’s Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire,” she said a little awed. ”I was a dancer as a kid and I watched every one of their movies. And next to Fred is Lilly and next to Ginger is you.”
I recalled that photograph well. I’d danced twice that night with Ginger and Lilly twice with Fred but, of course, I couldn’t tell that to Liu.
“Look alikes,” I lied. She didn’t seem convinced.
Her eyes shifted to another photograph, this time of Lilly with Errol Flynn, luckily I wasn’t in it.
“And I suppose that’s an Errol Flynn look alike and,” she moved to another, “that’s a young Elizabeth Taylor look alike and there’s a Spencer Tracy look alike and ….”
“Yup,” I broke in, “it’s amazing what you can do these days with a little make-up and Photoshop skills.”
She turned and gave me a withering stare.
“Like hell,” she said. ”Just what is going on here?”
I shrugged. What was I supposed to say?
“I am a detective,” she stated unnecessarily. “I observe, I deduce and I conclude.”
“Should I be calling you ‘Sherlock‘?” I asked in a pathetic attempt at distraction.
“And my conclusion is that this whole genetic engineering story is a crock.”
“Well that’s a fine conclusion. Now can we get on with the search?”
“In fact,” she continued, ignoring me, “my conclusions lead me to the impossible.”
“Then let’s stick with the probable. I think there’s a probable computer in the office, which is through that door.”
“Oh, look,” she said in mock surprise. ”There’s a photograph of you with Gary Cooper. Oopy, dooper.”
“Ah,” I said, “Young Frankenstein. One of my favorites. See if you can complete my favorite line: ‘What a filthy job … Could be worse … How? … Could be …‘ ?”
She ignored the bait.
“So genetic experiments in the 1930’s when they didn’t have the knowledge or the technology. Is that what I’m supposed to believe?”
“Maybe we time travelled,” I suggested.
“So, I have time travel with genetic experimentation or blood sucking Vampires to choose from. Eeeny, meeny, miney, mo … or should I just toss a coin?”
So I told her. Well what else was I supposed to do? She’d already figured out most of it. It seemed pointless to hedge anymore.
“Okay, so I’m a Vampire.”
She nodded slowly. ”As crazy as it sounds, I believe you.”
“Well, I hope that has satisfied your Holmesian instincts, Sherlock.”
“Not really,” she replied, “but it’s so unbelievable that it will take a while to sink in.”
“So while the sinking is occurring, can we get on with the search?”
“Sure,” she said, “but I’ll have more questions later.”
“I’m sure you will. But now …,” I swept my arm in the direction of the office. ”Shall we?”
She turned toward the office door, took a couple of steps and then stopped dead.
“What is it?” I asked extending my senses in an attempt to detect the danger she apparently saw.
She didn’t answer, but instead strode purposefully over to the wall to the left of the office door, where she stopped and frowned at the photographs which hung there.
“These aren’t right,” she declared with certainty. ”Over here are the 1930’s, next the 40’s, then the 50’s.” She was pointing at the groupings of photographs as she spoke and sure enough they progressed in a sort of counter-clockwise timeline. ”This area should be the 60’s but here we have a 1940’s Cary Grant right next to Jimi Hendrix.”
She reached out and removed Cary.
“Oh my God.”
The exclamation came out and I heard it, but I was barely aware that it came from my own lips. For there, exposed by the removal of the photograph, were two small holes. Insignificant in size but full of import in shape.
“Is that …?” asked Liu.
I stepped closer to make sure but it was unnecessary because in that first view I saw, without any doubt, that the holes had been made by the forked tip of the Sword of the Assassins.
Jul
26
I sat in Brianna’s kitchen, sipping at my evening glass of blood and contemplating the joys of eating.
When you’re human, you don’t really appreciate food. You can eat everything from the most cholesterol inducing steak to the healthiest leafy greens yet you don’t really truly appreciate it until all you have to eat is blood.
Fancy an ice cream? Sorry, here’s your glass of blood.
How about a nice hot curry? Sorry, here’s your glass of blood.
I wonder how many of the humans in the world who dream of becoming a Vampire consider that? Several thousand years of nothing but blood.
I stared into my glass.
I had gotten my ration from Brianna’s well stocked fridge and had warmed it gently with a little device an acquaintance of mine invented many years ago when we first started to refrigerate blood. It was the size of a fountain pen and had a heating element in one end. Just put it into your glass, press the button at the top and voila! Blood warmed to the precise temperature of fresh human blood – the temperature at which it tasted the best.
I took another sip, savoring the flavor.
I did miss real food now and then, but for all the lack of variation, I never seemed to tire of perfectly warmed blood.
“Hey,” said a sleep thickened voice as Brianna stumbled into the room.
She acquired her evening glass and joined me at the small table.
“Cheers,” she mumbled and, without warming it, glugged down the entire glass in three noisy gulps.
I frowned. ”And are you going to burp after wiping your mouth on the back of your sleeve?” I enquired.
“I was hungry,” she said defensively.
Pointedly, I took another restrained sip.
“So wazup?” She asked.
I put down my glass and steepled my fingers under my chin.
“We have gotten precisely nowhere on this case,” I said. ”We have been distracted and dragged hither and thither and it is time we took control.”
“Sounds good,” she said. ”But how?”
I unsteepled and took another sip.
“Precisely what I was pondering,” I replied.
“And did your ponder come to any conclusion?”
“Yes.”
She raised her eyebrows in enquiry.
“We need,” I said, “to ask the real detectives what we should do.”
“Hmm,” she said and yawned broadly. ”Shounds gud,” she said, mid-yawn.
She rubbed her eyes, blinked a couple of times to get out the sleep, glanced up at the clock on the wall and said, “Sun’ll be down soon. So let’s go.”
Jul
10
I sat on the steps, staring at nothing in particular, as activity raged all around me.
The live food Humans were taken away by a team of Nightwatch/Daywatch personnel who were trained in such work. Now would begin the work of helping them recover and return to normal life. Recalling the eyes of those poor souls I didn’t envy the task.
Brianna handled Liu and Alvarez. She gave them the line about the genetic experiments. I don’t know if they were convinced, but they headed off back to Parker Center and Brianna arranged to hook up with them next night.
The thug I had handcuffed around the pillar was arrested by the Nightwatch and Brianna made arrangements to interrogate him when he had recovered from the Conflict.
Then she sent Sugar home, telling her we would want to talk with her more about Wesley.
Finally she came back for me.
Like a good little boy, I walked docilely out to the car. It was nearing dawn, but this time we had a car with actual Sun-Safe polarized glass in it.
Brianna drove and I stared out the window at … nothing in particular.
After a few minutes, my thoughts drifted to memories of Lilly.
—
It was about four weeks after we met. I had arranged to take her out dancing. I was dressed in a fashionable suit with a smart shirt, bolo tie and my favorite homburg hat. Boy, did I look good.
I knocked on her door but there was no reply. I put an ear to the wood and I thought I could make our muffled sobbing. Something was wrong.
I didn’t want to break down the door so I went quickly downstairs and out to the back of the apartment building. I looked round to make sure no one was observing me, then I looked up to make sure I knew which window was hers, then I jumped.
The window sill wasn’t very wide, so I only got my toes onto it and had to hang onto the frame with my finger tips.
With great care, I tapped on the glass with the toe of one shoe and after a few seconds Lilly’s tear streaked face appeared, looking up at me through the dirty pane.
“Go away,” she said.
It wasn’t quite the welcome I had been expecting but I made the most of it.
“And a very good evening to you too,” I said. ”Now let me in so I can take you dancing.”
“No,” and she turned away.
“Well at least tell me what’s wrong.”
She just stood there with her back to me.
“And tell me quickly before I fall off your window sill.”
She turned at this and I could see a smile trying to make its way through the tears.
“I think I’ll push you off,” she threatened but instead she opened the window and I ducked inside.
She made herself coffee, poured me a glass of water and we sat sipping our drinks around her tiny kitchen table.
“I didn’t get the part,” she said, staring into her cup and spinning the spoon in her fingers, clockwise, anti-clockwise, clockwise, anti-clockwise. ”A white blonde got it. She’s a lousy actress. Doesn’t know Shakespeare from a hole in the ground and can’t articulate a convincing line if her life depended on it, but she has the right skin color and big boobs, so she gets the job.”
Suddenly she grabbed up her cup and threw it at the wall. Coffee spread itself in a random pattern across the paintwork and bits of broken crockery pitter-pattered to the floor.
“If I wanted to play a servant or a singer in a black swing band then no problem. Those are nigger parts. But anything that starts with ‘leading’? Forget it.” Her voice was angry now. An improvement over tears.
I’d been thinking about her predicament for a couple of weeks. Here she was, beautiful, talented and black in an industry were the stars were all white. It seemed a hopeless situation but there had to be some way out.
“I had an idea,” I said. ”It’s probably dumb and not something you will want to do, but it might get you work and keep you in fur coats.”
“Amaze me,” she said.
“I’ve watched several swashbuckler movies recently and I’ve been horrified at the pathetic swordsmanship in them.”
She scrunched up her eyes suspiciously. “I wonder where this is leading?”
“I can teach you to be the best fencing instructor in Hollywood. I can show you how to make these klutzes look like real swashbucklers or real musketeers or real knights. I can make you so good that they’ll be flocking to your door.”
She looked doubtful.
“It’s very sweet of you, Alistair,” she said, “but I don’t think it’ll work.”
“Sure it will.”
“First is my skin color and second is my gender. A black woman teaching Erol Flynn how to sword fight? Not a chance in Hades.”
“First of all,” I replied, “Erol is already a good swordsman, one of the few who doesn’t need lessons, and knowing his reputation I think he’d love to thrust and parry with you.” And I gave her a knowing wink. ”Second, you could hire some hunky white guy as a front and give the lessons in private. No one other than your clients will know the truth.”
She shook her head.
I wasn’t going to give up that easily. ”It’s something you can do to keep you connected to the industry while you work to change these ridiculous racial attitudes. And once the change comes about you can be an actress again.”
“And how long will that take?” She asked. ”By the time they are making movies where the lead is a black man or woman, I’ll be too old to get the parts.”
“Well at least you’ll have made it possible for someone else to get the part,” I said.
I could see I was getting through, but she still didn’t look convinced.
I jumped up from the table, picked up my chair and pulled off two legs. I handed her one.
“En garde,” I said in my best French accent and I jabbed at her with the chair leg.
She parried quite well and jabbed back at me.
“That’s better,” I said. ”There is nothing that you can’t do when you put your mind to it, Lilly. Never forget that and never give up.”
—
The car coming to a halt pulled me out of my reverie.
Brianna turned off the engine and pulled on the handbrake.
“So, are you going to call Seneca now or after we sleep?”
Those last words I’d said to Lilly echoed in my mind. So I was going to give up, was I? Not likely.
“Neither,” I answered. ”This case is not over. We’ve got a killer to catch.”
Jul
3
Al sighed again, looked down at the dirty concrete of the floor, shook his head in a sad despairing way, like an English soccer fan, and then … he walked out.
“Alistair?” I called after him in surprise. I even used his full name, but there was no response.
What was up with him?
I wasn’t sure what to do, but Sugar was still crying so I thought I’d better start with her.
I went over to where she had slumped to the floor, trying to decide if I should be tough to a traitor or understanding to a grieving mother. I tossed a mental coin until it came up the way I wanted: grieving mother.
I knelt down beside her and put an arm around her heaving shoulders. I didn’t say anything – I couldn’t really think of anything to say – and after a few minutes her sobs subsided and she wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse.
“I’m sorry,” she said. ”I let your prime suspect get away.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” I said. “We’ve got plenty of others.”
She managed a weak smile.
“Tell me,” I said, “how did you find us?”
“I was watching your phone’s GPS and when I saw where it was going I thought you might be after Wesley.”
I wanted to ask why she had named her kid after Wesley Snipes but it was a bit off topic, so instead I asked, “So you knew he was a Vampire and what he was up to?”
“He hated it when I was turned,” she said, not really answering my questions, her eyes far away. ”He was mad at me. Said it was an abomination and the work of the devil.”
“So why did he become one?”
“It was about three months ago that he disappeared,” she still wasn’t answering me, but it was close enough. ”I searched for him but found nothing. I was so worried. Then three weeks ago I got a text message from him that said, ‘been kidnapped.’ I texted him back but there was nothing for days. Then he said, ‘been turned.’ I didn’t know what to think. I managed to trace where it was coming from: an Internet cafe, not far from here. I’ve been driving around the area every spare minute since, hoping to find him.”
Kidnapped and turned against his will? That was news.
“Do you know who kidnapped him?”
“Oh, Wesley, Wesley.” She began crying again. ”What have you done?”
I couldn’t stand another bout of weeping and I wanted to tell Al what I’d just found out, so I patted her shoulder in what I hoped was an understanding and comforting way and said, “He’ll be okay.” Then I got up and went after Al.
I suppose I should have had Sugar arrested by the Nightwatch, but it seemed pointless, so I didn’t bother.
I found Al sitting on the steps leading down to the parking garage. He wasn’t weeping, but he had a similar far-off look in his eyes.
I thought that maybe using his full name might work best, so I said, “Alistair.”
Nothing.
“Alistair.” A bit louder.
“ALISTAIR!” Much louder.
His head came up slowly and for a second or two he focused on me and then … back to “far-far-away.”
“What the f#$% has gotten into you?” If I hoped that swearing would upset his aristocratic sensibilities and cause a more Alistair-like response, I was sadly disappointed. But at least it got a reply.
“I lost control,” he said to the floor, “I was going to torture that kid to death.”
“No you weren’t,” I said, but without much conviction because it was true. I’d seen it myself.
He focused on me again and his eyes were the most serious I’d ever seen them.
“I’ve let this case get too personal,” he said. ”I thought I’d gotten through the pain and loss, but I haven’t, and I almost killed a kid who probably has nothing to do with Lilly’s death.”
“I wouldn’t have let you,” I said, but again, it was more to comfort him than anything because I wasn’t sure I could have stopped him.
“I can’t go on with this,” he said with more certainty in his voice. ”I have to call Seneca. He has to take me off this case.”
Jun
12
Sugar’s revelation was like a slap in the face to me, but it looked more like a baseball bat across the side of the head to Alistair.
Sugar made the most of it.
“Get back over by Brianna and don’t take a step in this direction or I swear I’ll blow your head off.”
Alistair just turned and walked meekly over to me.
I caught his eye and gave him a “WTF?” look. He shrugged, “Never get between a mother lion and her cub,” he said.
As soon as he was a safe distance away, Sugar stuck the gun into the waist band of her jeans and gave half her attention to getting her boy down off the wall.
She grabbed the impaling sword and pulled it out of both the wall and Blade Clone.
The latter slumped to the concrete floor with his hands over his eyes and I could hear him sobbing.
I wanted to yell, “Now you know how it feels!” But his weeping made me feel a weird sort of pity for him, so I kept quiet.
“Wesley,” said Sugar, hunkering down beside him. ”You have to leave. Take these.”
He looked up, his eyes red and his cheeks wet with tears. She held out a set of car keys. He took them.
“And this.”
She handed him a wad of cash.
“You know the car. It’s on the opposite side of the building to the gate.”
He shoved keys and cash into his pocket then they stood and embraced. Sugar had her back to us and Blade Clone had his eyes closed. It would have been the perfect time for an attack, but Alistair just stood there watching.
“Shouldn’t we do something?” I asked.
Alistair let out a sigh. It contained a large helping of frustration, a tablespoon of sadness and just a dash of empathy. Then he shook his head. I couldn’t figure him out. One minute he was a in the grip of a psychotic vendetta and the next he was like me watching a romantic movie.
Finally Sugar and Wesley (honestly, “Wesley”? I guess the kid wasn’t the only Blade fan in the family.) broke apart.
“Now go, quickly,” said Sugar.
“I’m sorry, ma,” said Wesley. ”I never wanted this. You know how much I didn’t.”
“I know,” said Sugar and hugged him again, hard enough to break ribs.
At last she let him go. He quickly retrieved his sword, keeping a wary eye on Alistair, and slid it into its scabbard across his back. Then he scurried out the door.
“So now what Sugar?” asked Alistair.
She pulled out the gun again.
“You just stay there, Alistair,” she said. ”Stay there and keep quiet.”
For five long minutes we stood, twiddling out thumbs and whistling yankee-doodle-dandy, or at least that’s what Alistair did. I just stood there tapping my foot impatiently. Then outside I heard a horn honk twice. I guessed it was Wesley signaling that he was on his way.
Sugar kept us standing for another ten minutes or so and then, abruptly, her face contorted with grief, she slumped to her knees and the gun clattered to the floor.
Beside me, Alistair let out his breath in a long exhalation as if he’d been holding it for a long while.
“What?” I asked.
“Oh, just lamenting the fact that without making any real progress in this case we have just acquired two more suspects.”
Jun
5
Blade Clone’s neck twisted this way and that as he searched desperately for a way out.
“Did she have a sword or was she unarmed?”
The anger seethed within me. I wanted to let it out, let the volcano erupt and to hell with Pompeii, but more than that I wanted answers. I wanted to know why Lilly died and killing him now wouldn’t give me that.
“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Blade Clone.
His retreat was taking him around a pile of old pallets that leaned at a precarious angle because those at the bottom had rotted and given way.
I advanced, not letting the distance between us diminish.
“You stabbed her through the heart with that Hashashin sword. She was a good swordsman, I taught her myself, so I wondered if she had the chance to fight back.”
I took two fast steps forward.
He shoved at the pallets and they avalanched toward me.
With hardly a break in step, I jumped over them.
He almost fell over trying to get further away from me. His sword flapped about like laundry in a strong wind. No, he could never have defeated Lilly in a fair fight. This kid was an amateur.
“I’ve never seen this sword before,” he said. ”I found it tonight, lying on a pallet out here.”
“Is that the best you can do?” I asked. “I’ve never seen this sword before,” I mimicked. ”You seriously expect me to believe that? If you just tell me how and why you killed her, I promise you a quick death.”
“You’re f***ing crazy.”
He turned and ran past a pile of old boxes, slashing at them with his sword in the hopes of bringing them down and blocking his retreat.
But he was still thinking in Human terms when it came to combat and I had six hundred years of Vampire battle behind me.
The boxes tumbled down, so I simply ran, jumped high and landed ahead of him so that now his wild dash for freedom had become a mad rush toward imprisonment on the point of my sword.
Only at the last instant did he manage to modify his headlong plunge so that I missed his heart and instead pierced his sternum and penetrated deep into his lungs.
He stared down at where the sword entered his body with a look of stunned disbelief and the Hashashin sword dropped from his hand with a loud clang.
I grabbed him by the throat and pulled his face to mine. His eyes were large and frightened and it gave me a perverse pleasure to see the pain that contorted his face.
I twisted the sword and he screamed.
“Tell me why you killed her.”
His mouth worked but nothing came out for several seconds.
“Tell me,” I yelled into his face and twisted some more.
After more screaming, he managed to get out, “I didn’t kill anybody.”
I pulled his face closer to mine.
“I’ll give you one last chance to tell me and then I will use the sword with which you killed her to chop you into little pieces in such a way that you will live for a long, long time while I do it.”
“I didn’t kill anybody,” he repeated.
A wave of blind rage swept over me. With a howl of fury, I ran at the nearest wall and skewered him to it. He hung there like a limp voodoo doll.
I went back and picked up the Hashashin sword.
“Let me see. I think I’ll cut off a hand first. Yes, the very hand that you used to wield the killing blow.”
I raised the sword and took a step toward him.
“Alistair. Stop!”
The words had no effect on me. I was too far gone for mere sound to impinge. But the explosion, as the bullet hit the floor ahead of me, got through.
I spun round to see where it had come from.
“Drop the sword and get away from him.”
I stared in astonishment at Sugar, advancing from my left down an aisle formed by pallets, old boxes and other large piles of junk.
The gun in her hand was steady as Dirty Harry’s 44 Magnum, though her face was a swirling cloud of conflicting emotions.
“What the hell are you doing, Sugar? This is the bastard that killed Lilly,” I said, and raised the sword again.
Shards of concrete embedded themselves in my legs as another bullet exploded at my feet.
“Drop the sword and step back or the next shot takes your leg off.”
Her conflict seemed to have resolved, for there was no doubt in her voice.
I stood unmoving, the sword poised, but now it was my turn for the conflicting emotions.
“But Lilly was your friend,” I said.
“Yes,” she replied, “but this is my son.”
Jun
1
“You’re not taking me for trial,” said Blade Clone. He sounded desperate, which made me feel a little bolder than when I first stepped into the room.
“Trial?” I said. “What are you talking about?”
He lunged at me with his big sword. “I know what they do to Vampires who were turned without permission.”
I grunted as I paried the blow. There was something familiar about his sword but in the midst of fighting for my life I didn’t have the time to try and figure out where I’d seen it before.
“They’ll execute me,” he said and slashed at my head.
I jerked myself backwards so he missed but I tripped over my own feet and landed on my butt. I was so surprised that I let out a loud scream.
Lucky for me the momentum of his swing had thrown him off balance too, so I got back up before he could do anything about it.
“I was Turned without approval,” I said quickly, hoping it might distract him.
He paused for a second but then came at me again.
“You’re lying,” he said.
I stepped back and circled clockwise. Sword ready to defend myself.
“No I’m not. I was Turned without my knowledge. There was an inquiry and they let me live.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said and he slashed back and forth with wild abandon.
I had only ever used a sword in lessons and I sure was no expert, but this wild attack was so inept that I was able to sink my blade a couple of inches into his upper left arm.
He yelled out in pain and backed off a few steps. I didn’t follow up. I wasn’t that good.
“There are protections for people who were Turned without their consent,” I said. “The Vampire Councils are not barbarians you know.”
He gave me a penetrating look. “Why should I believe you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t care if you believe me or not. I just want to get this ridiculous fight over with.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” said the voice of Alistair from over by the door.
I breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“Would you like to take over?” I asked, keeping my eyes on Blade Clone.
“Certainly.”
Both he and Blade Clone dashed across the floor towards me. I threw the sword to Al, blade pointing to the ceiling so he could catch it by the hilt. Like the practiced swordsman he was, he caught it and spun round, blocking a crazy wild blow from Blade Clone.
Blade Clone must have gotten an idea that Al knew what he was doing, because he backed away, trying to get to the door, but Al was onto him before he got more than a couple of steps towards escape.
Al hacked at Blade Clone who desperately blocked the blows.
“Is that the sword you killed Lilly with?” Al’s voice was heavy with suppressed anger and I realized that the big ass sword Blade Clone held was the one Al had drawn on the white board.
It was the sword that had killed Lilly.
The Sword of the Assassins.
May
28
The eyes of the Humans in the room brought back unpleasant memories of times I’d had to force people to share their blood with me.
We didn’t always have the Network to supply us with our daily blood and although we don’t need a lot of blood each day, we still need some.
You can go a few days without blood but, like a Human on a water-only fast, you get very tired and light headed. However, unlike a Human, you also get an uncontrollable urge to bite someone in the neck and gorge on their blood.
It’s only happened to me a few times but, because I have a conscience, I felt terrible about it and did all I could to make up to the person I’d abused. Not all Vampires are like that and judging by the look in the eyes that greeted me from the darkness of that squalid little room, the owners of this building were sure as hell not like that.
The live food Humans cringed away from me and a couple fell to their knees, hands clasped together, clearly begging to be left alone.
“Homeland Security,” I said. “I’m here to help you.”
It didn’t seem to sink in so I pulled out my Id and flashed it at them.
“Homeland Security,” I repeated and this time there was a reaction: loud sobs.
“Alistair?”
The voice of detective Liu came from behind me.
“Take this,” I handed her my gun and pulled out my phone.
“I won’t ask what the hell is going on,” she said, “I’m sure you’ll tell me later.” It was heavy with sarcasm, but I just nodded.
I stepped out of the room and dialed the Nightwatch emergency number.
“This is Alistair Caithness. I don’t have much time, so get this down and don’t ask unnecessary questions.”
The woman at the other end was clearly a smart cookie because all she said was, “Okay.”
I gave her the address then said, “We have a live food situation. Several Humans, all traumatized. Get a crew over here fast. I’m giving the phone to an LAPD detective who is working with me. She’ll tell you how to get in and where the victims are.”
Liu was clearly biting her lip to keep from flooding me with questions but her expression said “WTF?”
“Tell the nice lady at the other end how to get in and where you are taking these people. I’d suggest getting them down to the parking area and opening the gate, but don’t let them go anywhere. They need the help my people can give them.
“Okay,” she said. I thought she’d get along well with the woman at Nightwatch.
“If any of those creeps who did this come back, that gun will handle them. Just be quick with it.”
“Yup,” she said. “Been there, done that. Does this one have exploding bullets like Brianna’s?”
That explained the headless corpse.
“Yup,” I replied. “Now where is Brianna?”
“She went into the main warehouse area after the last … whatever he is. She was waving a sword.”
That sounded promising. I turned to give chase.
“There is one other still alive,” said Liu. “He’s twitching about on the floor of a room downstairs. Alvarez is keeping an eye on him.”
More delays. I rushed down the stairs and found Alvarez at the door watching a skinny guy convulsing on the floor.
“Careful,” he said when he saw me. “Don’t get too close. He is incredibly strong.”
“Thanks for the warning but it’s not a problem.”
I stepped in and grabbed hold of the twitcher by the back of his t-shirt. I pulled him over to a thick column in the center of the room that supported the roof. I pulled his left leg and right arm around the column and clamped his ankle to his wrist using my handcuffs. (Vampire ready, of course.)
“That will hold him,” I said. “When my people get here tell them who he is and what happened. I have to go help Brianna.”
“She looked to be doing okay when she rushed off with the sword,” he said. “She’s probably …”
The scream that came from the door at the end of the corridor told a different story. It was Brianna and she sounded in trouble.
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