Shrouds of Darkness (23 page)

I find the door I am looking for and give it a quick, soft rapping with my knuckles while standing to the side of the peephole.

“T-dog, that you?” a muffled voice inquires from inside.

I hit dial on my phone and hear the corresponding ring from just on the other side of the door. That is all the confirmation I need. A quick sidestep and kick sends the door, a good portion of its frame, and Mikey tumbling into the center of the tiny, filthy apartment.

I leap through the ruined portal, sword in hand, and thrust it through the young man’s chest and spine, pinning him to the floor like a bug in a collector’s display case. Mikey looks up at me, his eyes wide, filled with terror, and begins crying out.

“Oh God, who are you? I can’t feel my legs!”

“That’s because I severed your spinal cord between the T2 and T3 vertebrae. If you were human, you would probably have a hard time just breathing right now. If you answer my questions, you will probably get better. If you don’t, you will definitely get a whole lot worse.”

“Who are you, what do you want?” Mikey wails.

I pick the door up off the floor and set it back into place as best I can while I answer the question. “I’m the guy that gets called when vampires get out of line. You and your friends have been getting out of line. Didn’t anyone explain the rules to you?”

“Wait, you’re a Sheriff? Andre told us the Sheriffs wouldn’t bother us as long as we did what we were told! You’re not supposed to touch us!”

“Oh I’m not a Sheriff—not anymore,” I reply as I cross the room and stand over him. “They fired me years ago. Seems they found me too violent, my tactics too heavy-handed. Can you believe that, me, violent and heavy-handed? Do I seem violent or heavy-handed to you, Mikey?” I ask as I pull my blade free, plunge it back into his chest but intentionally missing the spine, then giving it a twist for good measure.

Mikey lets out a scream, his spinal cord already healing enough to return the sense of pain thanks to what I assume to be some gluttonous eating habits.

“Please, please tell me what you want to know, just stop stabbing me!”

“Who told you the Sheriffs are supposed to leave you alone and why?”

He shook his head rapidly. “Andre told all of us. He said we could feed all we want as long as we don’t draw too much attention to the humans and stayed near Brooklyn.”

“Who’s Andre?” I ask but I already have a sneaking suspicion.

“He’s in charge. He got orders from someone else; I don’t know who, I swear.”

“Was Andre a black guy with dreadlocks, from the islands?”

Mikey nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, that’s him! He knows more than me. I don’t know nothing but what he tells me.”

“No good. I killed Andre last night along with T-dog and some other stupid-looking white kid. Who turned you?”

“Andre’s dead? Oh man, oh man.”

I give my sword a gentle twist to get Mikey’s attention again. “Let’s focus on what’s important here, Mikey. Who turned you and where was Andre getting his orders?”

My gentle prodding elicits another suppressed scream from the kid. “I don’t know, I don’t know!”

“You don’t know what, who turned you or where the orders come from?”

“Neither, you fucker! I don’t know who turned me; none us do. It was the same with all of us. I was at a club talking to some smoking-hot Asian chick. She was asking me what I thought about stuff like power and money. Then she started asking me about weird shit like wanting to live forever and what I would do to get all that. I woke up in a room. Andre was there and T-dog and Street but I didn’t know them then. I got really sick for a couple days and they had me drink blood and that helped. Then they brought in this homeless guy or something and told me I had to kill him and drink his blood. They told me I was a vampire now and told me to follow Andre and do what he said.”

“Did they ever tell you who the woman was or who brought you in?”

“No, just that it was largely the same with them; hooking up with someone, getting asked weird questions, and being brought in unconscious by a couple dudes in long coats and masks.”

As strange as all this sounded, it is starting to make some sense to me now, but I am still lost on the motive. Someone is obviously creating their own little gang but why, and more importantly, how? The odds of creating a vampire are really low. Our condition simply isn’t easily transferrable. It’s not like a damn cold. It’s more like post-vaccine polio, but here I have four that appear to have been created specifically to create a powerbase. Does this mean there are hundreds or even thousands of failed attempts sunk in the bay or has someone found a way to increase the likelihood of transmission? Call me dark, but I’m really hoping for the former.

“How many more little gangs are out there like yours?” I ask, really hoping for none but knowing better.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure there’s at least one in every borough but there could be more. I don’t know, I swear.”

“Do you have contact with any of the other groups?”

Mikey shakes his head. “No, we aren’t allowed to communicate even if we cross paths.”

“What about Andre? He must have talked to someone outside the group, gotten his orders from a higher up.”

“No. He had a phone but the incoming number was always blocked when they called. Most of his orders came from a drop location on paper and we didn’t have many of those. Just to stay put for now and hunt only in Brooklyn.”

“Mikey, you have caught me in a rare moment of compassion. You have been helpful and cooperative so I’m going to let you live. If you happen to come across any more of your little gang members, you tell them Leo is coming for them.”

I free my sword from the young vamp’s chest and use the fire escape to make my exit. The kid is probably stupid enough to think that I had acted with mercy, but the fact is that it is a tactical decision, not one of involving any sort of emotion. The only thing his information revealed is that whoever is behind all this is damn smart. These gangs he or she is setting up are built into small cells much like the more advanced terrorist cells are. No one cell knows the identity or locations of another until you got to the top, or real close to it.

By far, the most disturbing thing the kid said is confirming that the Sheriffs were involved. The question now is how deep did go and how high? Did Wyatt have a rogue operative or two inside his squad or is the entire thing rotten with him part of it? My first inclination is to kick down Wyatt’s door along with several of his teeth and find out but I dismiss it as logic insists on being heard. If the whole of the Sheriff’s organization is corrupt, I really do not want to go in guns blazing. That is a bit more than even my inflated ego and I are ready to take head on.

No, better to let Mikey go and hope he leads me to more of his gang. I don’t know if Mikey is completely honest about not knowing anyone else outside his cell. T-dog’s phone records hint that there is more communication than he let on, but I am willing to bet after I took out Andre and his cronies last night, someone has these guys being watched and they would certainly talk to Mikey and some of the others.

I don’t have Andre’s phone but it isn’t hard for Marvin to get his call logs from the provider’s database now that he has the information from the phone I gave him, and that definitely has some numbers and addresses I need to check out tonight. In fact, I am willing to bet there will be a lot these guys were going to want to discuss once Mikey passes along my little message.

Another cab ride and I am home again. I grab a bag of blood from my refrigerator and sit down to call Marvin. If I keep getting into fights I will need to hunt and take a life soon, but right now, I need to keep the inertia going on my case.

“Marvin, I need you to look at the guy named Andre’s phone logs. Cross reference them with the phone I gave you along with Mikey’s and see if any calls show up more often than the others. I also need you to watch Mikey’s phone and track who he calls and see if those numbers correspond with the other most called numbers. Can you do that?”

“Marvin does not have that kind of mad skill but Mo’ Money can do it no problem. Maybe if you asked him real nice he would be happy to look into it.”

It takes significant effort on my part not crush my own phone and hope that it somehow reaches Marvin’s skinny neck on the other end. “Marvin, do not toy with me. If I have to replace you, I will, and when I replace someone, I replace them permanently. Do not make me downsize our business. Do you understand me?”

“You know, you create a very hostile work environment that is not conducive to maximum performance,” Marvin replies, sulking from his easily bruised ego.

“How about broken legs, would that add or take away from your overall performance? For me, motivation through fear of impending pain is an excellent method in achieving maximum productivity from my employees.”

“All right, don’t get your BVD’s in a bunch. Yeah, I can do that, no problem. I already have access to their accounts so I can track the calls.”

“Good. I have one more thing that may be a little harder. Can you triangulate the exact, current position of those cell phones?”

Marvin pauses to think then replies excitedly, “Yeah! I can track the time differential of the signal as it reaches different cell towers. Then I can reverse plot that onto a satellite map from the towers back to the source of the signal. Where the lines intersect is where that phone is. Oh man, this is some straight up James Bond, CIA shit here! Damn I love being a genius!”

“I’m glad you’re a genius too just don’t think so much of yourself that you start thinking you can’t be replaced. There’s seven billion people on this planet; there’s bound to be a few more geniuses amongst them.”

“Yeah, but do you speak Chinese?” Marvin fires back, “because there’s like a ninety percent chance that’s who they’ll be.”

 “Actually I do speak passable Chinese.”

“Oh. Well don’t you worry, I got this.”

“Good work, Marvin. I never doubted you,” I tell him, figuring it is always good policy to provide a little positive reinforcement as long as they remember that negative reinforcement is very near at hand.

“By the way,” Marvin says just as I’m about to hang up, “Mo’ Money is no employee. Mo’ Money is at least a valued partner.”

“Yeah, but Marvin is my bitch so you average that out any way you want so long as you do your job.”

“You’re a real asshole, Malone.”

“That’s what people keep telling me. I’ll call you tonight when I need the locations of those phones.”

A knock at my door sounds as I hang up on Marvin. It’s safe to assume anyone meaning me harm would not bother to knock so I don’t bother checking to see who it is, but I do keep a firm hold on Shalonda’s grip inside my pocket as I open the door.

Katherine is standing in the doorway, illuminated in the golden aura of the sun like an angel sent down to save my soul—assuming I still have one. I almost let slip my façade and return the bright smile that is on her perfect lips. Fortunately, I am instantly aware of the poetic crap my brain is currently processing and that sufficiently sours my mood enough to prevent it.

“May I come in?”

I pause to respond so she simply shoulders past me and takes a seat on the only other piece of furniture I own.

“How did that lead turn out?” she asks me.

“I’m still seeing where it goes. I should have more information tonight. I did confirm that vampires are behind most of this.”

“Hm, that’s not good.”

“It gets worse. It looks like at least one or more Sheriffs are involved which means someone fairly high up the chain is also involved. I’ve never known any Sheriffs to have the imagination to attempt a power grab on their own.”

“Do you have any idea who might be at the top of this and why they would involve my father?”