Dying Bites: The Bloodhound Files-1 (21 page)

The eyes are watching me.

My whisper is swallowed up by the motor’s noise, but Charlie hears me anyway. “It’s . .

.”

“Not dead,” Charlie says. “No. This is what happens when you mix napalm with silver fulminate. It sticks and it burns. For a long, long time.”

“What happened?”

The eyes are fully formed. They stare at me, unblinking. It has no eyelids.

“You know where lems come from?”

“Uh—a spell. Some Chinese sorcerer.”

Dying Bites – Bloodhound Files 01

Page 172 of 370

“He wasn’t Chinese. He was Jewish.” Charlie’s popped one of his silver ball bearings into his hand, and he plays with it idly as he talks. “China was where the spell was introduced, but the sorceror—Ahasuerus—was a Jew. Nobody knows exactly why he decided to spread that spell around the world, but that’s what he did. Pretty soon you could find lems almost anywhere: Asia, Europe, South America . . . and the Middle East.

“It’s funny how many human preconceptions and prejudices just won’t go away. Sometimes I wonder if the thropes took over the Catholic Church or if it was the other way around. . . . Anyway, in the Middle East it was Islam and vampires. Maybe in your world it’s different and all the big religions get along—but not here. Pires and thropes are one thing, but Catholic thropes and Muslim pires can work up a hatred for each other you wouldn’t believe.”

“I think I might.”

“Yeah? Well, the only thing a pire extremist hates more than a thrope fundamentalist is a Jew of any type. And since lems were created by one, we’re all considered Jewish by default.”

“I don’t know where you’re going with this—”

“Certain Islamic vampire sects like to use golems in an unusual way. They implant one with pressurized tanks of napalm, cut with silver to make sure any burns are permanent. Multiple nozzles hidden just below the surface of the skin, pointing in every direction. Then send it into a crowd of Catholic thropes in a church or on a bus and activate it with a remote—the napalm sprays and ignites at the same time.”

I shake my head. “We have those, too—we call them suicide bombers.”

“Yeah? We call them sandtraps.”

Dying Bites – Bloodhound Files 01

Page 173 of 370

“Why are you showing me this, Charlie?”

“Golems were created to be protectors, Jace. It’s in our basic nature. Yeah, we’re weapons, but we’re weapons that think and feel. Weapons that can choose. To create one of us and take away that choice, to give someone a life that lasts a day and ends in mindless slaughter? That’s evil, Jace.” He stares at the burned body hovering before us.

“That, right there, is evil.”

I realize that I’m not picking any emotions up from the burn victim, despite the Urthbone in my system. “Wait. This guy’s a pire, not a thrope.”

“I’m surprised you can tell. Yeah, see, making sandtraps is a tricky business. Silver fulminate and napalm is an unstable combination, can ignite prematurely. This guy here had one go up while he was still building it.”

My emotions do a somersault, and pity turns to anger. “Son of a—”

“Makes me wonder, you know? Pires are immortal. They take a few basic precautions, they can live forever. But clowns like this put their very long lives on the line, just for the chance to kill a few thropes who like to go to Sunday Mass.”

“There’s evil everywhere, Charlie.”

“Not my point. The doc said you were thinking about offing yourself.”

His bluntness almost makes me smile. “That’s not—”

“Don’t do it. Guys like this, they’re willing to die to kill other people. We want to stop them, we have to be willing to die, too. So, you want to die? At least go down fighting. Job like ours, you’ll get your chance soon enough.”

Dying Bites – Bloodhound Files 01

Page 174 of 370

He stops. “That’s it. End of sermon. You want to go back to your room?”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

Once we’re back in the hall I ask, “Charlie? I can’t believe that guy is still alive.”

“Pires are tough, but fire and silver are a nasty combination; his body’ll grow back, but it’ll take a long, long time. Years, maybe even decades. And it’ll hurt like hell, every second of every day.”

“Good. Let’s get out of here, okay? Hospitals depress me.”

Someone else is waiting for me when we get back to my room. Gretchen. She’s sitting on a chair beside my bed, reading a magazine. When Charlie wheels me in, she looks up, seeming entirely unconcerned.

“Well. How’s the invalid?”

“Grumpy.”

“Not surprising. Your physician tells me you’re lucky not to be in a coma.” Her tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent of concern in her voice. In my present sensitive state, it almost makes me tear up again.

“Dammit, cut that out,” I blurt. “This stuff turns me into a leaky emotional sponge.”

“I thought you couldn’t read pires.”

“I can’t,” I sniff. “So shut up.”

Dying Bites – Bloodhound Files 01

Page 175 of 370

She smiles at me gently, and I abruptly realize she’s probably old enough to be my grandmother, at the very least. She reminds me a bit of her, too, what I can remember; she died when I was nine. A very sweet little old lady who liked to sneak cigarettes and coffee no matter what her doctor said. She could curse a blue streak, too.

“Perhaps this will cheer you up,” Gretchen says. “They have a pool going down at the office.”

“How long before Cassius fires me?”

“No, method of suicide. It’s leaning heavily toward jumping off a bridge, but deliberately getting yourself killed in the line of duty is gaining ground quickly. People see you as self-destructive, but with a strong work ethic. And a sense of drama, I suppose.”

I glare at her. “Okay, three things. First, I’m getting out of this chair, marching down to the office and setting fire to it. Second, you totally made that up, and third, thank you. Now go get me a damn coffee, please.”

“Your wish is my command, O serene one.” She gets to her feet and glides out of the room.

Okay, she could teach Granny a thing or two.

Dr. Pete agrees to release me on one condition: that I start taking my Urthbone again. He says that since the tea was obviously too strong, he’s giving me a weaker, powdered form that I can just add to a liquid.

Dying Bites – Bloodhound Files 01

Page 176 of 370

Gretchen leaves after a short visit, citing work concerns. Charlie wants to take me home, but it’s the middle of the day and I insist on going back to the office. “I’m fine,” I say. “What am I going to do at home—watch thrope operas and play solitaire?”

“Being alone might not be such a bad thing. Let you get used to that stuff you’re taking again.”

“Ah, I’ll be okay as long as I avoid overhormonal thropes—lems and pires don’t seem to register. Anyway, I want to talk to our suspect as soon as I can.”

“Good luck. The woman we snagged is named Brigitte Sullivan—she was using a disguise spell called a glamour to pose as Selkie.”

“Damn. I was really hoping that was just a hallucination.” Like Roger, I add silently. Who is apparently trying to make up for being a lying scumbag in real life by becoming a spokesperson for the Truth in my head. But is he right? Am I on the wrong side?

“Aristotle Stoker,” I say. “Descendant of Bram. Tell me about him.”

“One of the big movers and shakers of the FHR. Raised and educated in secrecy, brought up to hate all thropes and pires. Supposedly a genius. Also supposedly dead, killed in a suspicious fire fifteen years ago. The Impaler showed up about five years after that.”

“So maybe he faked his own death, went even deeper underground.”

“Why?”

“To train. To take his campaign to the next level.” It was starting to make a kind of sense to me. “He’s a human being living in a supernatural world. To compete, he had to turn himself into something mythic. Something the monsters would fear.”

Dying Bites – Bloodhound Files 01

Page 177 of 370

“The Impaler’s got an impressive rep, sure. But why not use that off the bat?”

“In show business, timing is everything. That’s what the killings are about—he’s building an audience. The revelation that the Impaler is behind them will drive the numbers even higher.”

“But why tell the person hunting him his real name?”

“He wants to create a connection between us. I don’t know how he knows about me—

magic, maybe—but I’ve seen this before. Serials often view their crimes as a game, and a game is always more enjoyable with a good opponent.”

“Same kind of thing his great-great-granddaddy did.”

“Bram, yeah. Tell me about him.”

“Victorian London. Pire hookers started getting killed in the Whitechapel district. Decapitated, mainly, but a few of the younger ones that didn’t turn to dust were cut up with a silver blade. Letters were sent to the newspapers, the killer claiming he was going to murder a vampire prostitute every week until they were all gone. Police finally caught him when he bragged about what he’d done while drinking in a humans-only pub. One of his own turned him in.”

“What happened to him?”

“Hanged. But before that—when it got out that he wasn’t a pire or a thrope—there were riots. Two hundred and sixty-two humans were torn apart by mobs.”

“Christ.” I stare out the window. “So Junior’s got a legacy to live up to. Probably sees himself as some kind of savior.”

Dying Bites – Bloodhound Files 01

Page 178 of 370

“Yeah. Except he’s more into getting other people nailed to pieces of wood.”

“He hasn’t used that one yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised. . . .”

I pretty much expect to get hauled on the carpet by Cassius, so I’m not really surprised to have the receptionist tell me he wants to see me. I consider blowing him off—I was serious when I laid down my attitude toward rules and regs—but decide I may as well get it over with.

I march in without knocking. “So I had a little episode. Big, hairy—”

Tanaka’s standing there, in front of Cassius’ desk. He stares at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

“—deal,” I finish. Now would be a good time to have another fit, fall down, and pass out.

Or maybe just have the earth swallow me up.

“Mr. Tanaka,” Cassius says, “has uncovered some intriguing information about your suspect. This information was important enough that he felt he had to deliver it in person.”

“Ah,” I say. “Good. Okay. Right.” I stay where I am and hope I’m far enough away.

“Agent Valchek,” Tanaka says formally, inclining his head. “I fear that my information is not as vital as Director Cassius makes it sound. Rather, my superiors felt that I could do more good here than in Japan.”

Dying Bites – Bloodhound Files 01

Page 179 of 370

“International treaties work both ways,” Cassius says. “One of the crimes happened in their country, after all. If the suspect is on U.S. soil, they have every right to search for him here.” He keeps it out of his voice, but I can tell he’s not happy. Maybe the Urthbone works better on pires than I thought.

“I’ll debrief you,” I tell Tanaka. A microsecond later, when my brain informs me what it’s just tricked me into saying, every ounce of blood in my body surges into my face. I’m hoping it kills me quickly.

“Yes, good idea,” Cassius says flatly. “Bring him up to speed. You and I will talk later.”

“Come on,” I tell Tanaka. “Let’s get a drink. Of coffee, I mean.”

He nods and follows me out of the office. I try to stay ahead of him on the way to the elevator—

Oh, God. The elevator.

He doesn’t question my decision to take the stairs. I lead him down to the cafeteria, put him in a chair, grab two cups of tea from the counter, and sit down across from him. So far, so good.

“I must confess my motives are more personal than I admitted,” Tanaka begins. Not so good.

“Look, Tanaka—what happened between us shouldn’t have.”

“I know. You were in a vulnerable position, which I took advantage of. I am deeply sorry.”

Huh. While that’s technically correct, nobody likes to hear that someone’s sorry they slept with them. I don’t, anyway. “Apology accepted. I guess. So what’s the news?”

Dying Bites – Bloodhound Files 01

Page 180 of 370

“I believe the Impaler knows that you are hunting him.”

“That would have been useful to know a few hours ago.” I tell him about the fake Maureen Selkie and what she told me. “The question is, how?”

“Ironically, I believe through Isamu himself. The Impaler has numerous resources in the criminal world, as I’m sure you’ve discovered. Isamu’s anger at the death of his best assassin has reached the ears of many, both allies and rivals.”

“That wouldn’t tell him who I am.”

“Perhaps not, but he knows all the same. That is the true reason I came: to warn you to be careful. Someone close to you may not be who they seem.”

I groan. “Great. I can throw paranoia in with all my other mental health issues. Got any news that won’t make me crazier?”

He hesitates. “No. However, I did bring something of a more practical nature.”

“Practical, great. I’m all about the practical.”

“I will have to retrieve it from my hotel room. This facility has a gymnasium, correct?”

“Yeah, Gretchen showed me where it was. Worked out there a few times.”

“Can you meet me there in an hour?”

I can’t see any reason to say no, so I don’t. He nods good-bye and leaves. I completely and totally forget to give him one very vital piece of information—and no, it isn’t where the gym is.

Dying Bites – Bloodhound Files 01