Chapter 15 Cord
DANTE’S MEN CHAIN the two rogues up on the wall of the basement, then leave and lock the door. A few hours alone in the dark should hopefully loosen their tongues.
I find my way up to Dante’s office and take a seat on the couch. I know he’s going to want details, and right now I’m still processing how to go about presenting my theory to him.
He watches me for a minute, puffing on his cigar, before asking, “Are these the guys?”
“No, but I found them in the same place. They were making a move toward a kitchen worker.”
“What brought them to your attention?”
Ah yes, there’s the question I’ve been dreading. “Like I said, one of the workers brought it up.”
“And why would he share this information with you?”
I guess honesty–at least partial, anyway–is the best way to approach this. “I helped him out a few years ago. He was attacked by a rogue and I happened to be in the neighborhood. I told him if he ever needed help again, to give me a call.”
He considers that for a moment. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you take an interest in a human?”
I’ve been asking myself the same question the last two days. Why did I tell Luca and his mother about the rogues? And why did I give him my number and promise to help him? I’m not a boy scout, and I’m certainly no hero. The only person I’ve ever looked out for other than myself is Asher.
Still, something about Luca stayed with me. “I guess he kind of reminded me of myself at that age.”
Dante knows about my troubled past. Hell, he was my mentor. And I’m sure he’s probably wondering right now why this kid and this time?
However, he seems satisfied with my response because he doesn’t pursue it any farther. “So what’s the deal with these guys?”
I run my hand back through my hair and sigh. “They don’t seem to know anything about the Clan. And they mentioned a boss, someone I should be scared of.”
Dante quirks a brow. “A boss, eh? They give you a name?”
“No, which is one of the things I want to get out of them.”
He stands up and walks over to the window overlooking the rest of the warehouse. “I can tell you’re bothered by something. What is your gut saying?”
I hate even mentioning the word. “I think they’re unsanctioned.”
He turns to me. “Outliers?” I nod. “Shit.”
“Like I said, I won’t know for sure until I talk to them, but just the time I spent with them in the alley gave me a bad vibe.”
He’s quiet for a few minutes, as though absorbing this latest bombshell. “I thought the serial killer was the worst of our problems.” He takes another puff of his cigar. “How did they get there?”
The question throws me for a second. “What do you mean?”
“Did they drive, walk, or were they dropped off?”
“Oh. They drove an old van.”
“Is it still there?”
“As far as I know.”
He nods. “I’ll send someone over to pick it up. Might be a clue inside.”
I hadn’t thought about that. We might at least learn something from the registration, unless it’s stolen.
“In the meantime,” Dante continues, “let them marinate for a while, then question them. Only you. Use whatever means necessary to get the truth. And Cord?”
I start to rise and look at him. “Yeah?”
“Don’t say a word to anyone else about this for now. At least, not till we’re certain.”
“I understand.”
The last thing we need is to cause a panic and bring the attention of the Black Guild down on us.
? ? ?
I spend the next few hours hanging out at the warehouse, drinking and shooting the shit with some of the guys.
When the van arrives, we tear it apart looking for clues, but all we find is some old clothes and a couple of lengths of bloody rope.
One of Dante’s contacts at the NYPD runs the plate and comes back with a name and address in Queens which I intend to check out later.
Around five a.m. I figure the two assholes have had sufficient time to think about their fate and head for the cell. Both are passed out but the shorter one jerks awake when I throw a bucket of water on him.
“Jesus, what the fuck?”
“Good morning, sunshine. Sleep okay?”
He yanks on the chains around his wrists, then seeing he’s not going anywhere, glares at me. “You’re going to be sor–”
“Yeah, yeah. Consider me suitably terrified. Now let’s talk about your boss.” He glances over at his partner on the opposite wall, who’s starting to stir awake. “He can’t help you.”
“I’m not a rat.”
“You sure about that? I know for a fact it gets mighty painful when you haven’t fed in a couple of days. Your veins start to collapse, your skin shrivels up and shrinks, and the hunger…” I lean closer and meet his eyes. “It’s like your body is eating itself from the inside out.”
He looks a little less confident now. Good. “He’ll find us.”
I’ll give this guy one thing; he sure inspires loyalty. “What is he, psychic? Do you know where we are?”
“Doesn’t matter. You’ll never get to him. He’s–”
“Jer,” his buddy warns from across the room. “Shut up.”
I turn to him. “Look who’s joined the party. The first one to tell me what I want to know gets a bag of blood.”
I pull the bag I grabbed from the emergency refrigerator in the warehouse out of my jacket pocket and toss it on the floor at his feet. “I know it’s not as good as live, but it’ll keep you from starving to death.” I shake my head. “Messy way to die, you know.”
Vampires can’t die from lack of blood. Oh we’ll suffer–horrendously–while still being alive through it all.
I’ve personally gone a week without blood as part of my training.
It’s not something I would want to repeat.
And while it took about a day to recover once I was feeding again, I did still recover.
That’s something I doubt these two know, and I plan to exploit it. I look between them. “No takers?” I shrug. “Suit yourself. We’ll see how you feel after another day here.”
And just to make things more interesting, I toe the bag of blood to the middle of the room then stomp on it, releasing the coppery aroma into the air. It even twangs my appetite, so I know it’s torturing them.
I take a step toward the door and the short guy calls me back. “Wait!”
I turn around. “Yes?”
“You can’t leave us here.”
I snort. “Watch me.” I reach for the door.
“We weren’t going to hurt them.”
“Hurt who?”
“The kids at the restaurant. We were recru–”
“Jerry!” the tall one snaps.
“What? I don’t want to starve to death.”
He’s not making it out of this cell alive, but I don’t want to tell him that.
Let the guy cling to his hope…for now. I have a feeling he’s ready to talk, if his conscience on the other side of the room would just shut up.
Luckily I have a cure for that in my other pocket.
I pull out the syringe and hold it up to the meager lightbulb hanging from the ceiling so they both can see it.
It’s a mega dose of xylazine, better known as horse tranquilizer, one of the many little goodies from Dante’s toolchest. This one is loaded up for just this situation, with enough juice to take down an elephant.
Even so, it will only knock your average vamp out for an hour or two, but that’s usually all the time we need.
I approach the tall one and his eyes widen at the sight of the needle.
“What the hell is that?”
“A little something to make you more tolerable.”
Before he can protest, I jam the needle into his neck and push the plunger. Nighty night, asshole. His head slumps over, silencing his protests. I step back to admire my work. Yep, out cold.
“Is he…dead?” Jerry asks.
I shrug. “Hard to say. I might’ve gotten the dosage wrong. Look on the bright side. At least he won’t starve to death.”
Jerry struggles against his bindings. “You son of a bitch.”
I walk over to him. “Now, where were we? Oh yeah, you were telling me about the kids at the restaurant.”
“I’m not telling you nothing.”
“Suit yourself. I got another needle in my pocket…unless you’d rather die of starvation. Doesn’t matter either way to me.”
I don’t have another syringe, but he doesn’t need to know that. I figured I’d need to silence one to get the other one to talk. When he doesn’t say anything, I turn and head back toward the door.
“All righty then, guess I’ll see you tomorrow. He should probably start stinking by then.”
“No, wait.”
“Yes?”
“Will you let me go if I tell you?”
One thing you can always count on with these guys; self-preservation. “Tell me about your boss and I’ll put in a good word with mine. That’s the best I can do.”
He seems to think about it for a minute, then finally nods. “You can’t get to him, you know? He’s too powerful.”
Is he trying to convince me or himself? “Just tell me the name and I’ll let my boss handle it.”
He hesitates for several minutes. I don’t push, letting him come to it on his own. Finally he sighs and says something under his breath.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” I reply.
“Python,” he says, louder this time. “He’s known as the Python.”
“Sounds ominous,” I say, swallowing a laugh. Seriously? “Do you know his real name?”
“No. That’s the only name we have.”
“And how many of you are there?”
“You said you just needed his name.”
“My boss will want more…unless you like it here.”
“Fine.” He stalls, pouting.
“Well?”
“I’m thinking, okay?”
“Well, think faster. Time’s a wasting.”
“Maybe twenty, twenty-five. We’re not all there at the same time.”
“And you say he’s recruiting these kids he snatches from the restaurants?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes he just lets us feed on them until…”
“Until what?” I ask, knowing the answer.
“They die.”
Jesus, fuck, though I guess it’s no worse than being forced into an illegal blood den.
“How long has it been since you were transitioned?”
“Transitioned?”
“Turned into a vampire.” God, the ignorance. Did this Python character not tell them anything?
“Oh. Let’s see. It was springtime, so about six months.”
“And were there a lot of them when you came aboard?”
“They come and go. Some didn’t do so well at first, and, well, the Python said they had to go.”
Yeah, I can imagine what that entailed.
“So does he have a headquarters, like a house or a building of some sort?”
“I’m not telling you that.”
No, I didn’t think he would, though it was worth a shot.
“Will you let me go now?”
“Let me take this information to my boss and see what he says.”
I start toward the door and Jerry cries out, panicked. “Wait. I can’t…the smell. I can’t stay here.”
“It’ll only be for a little while. I should be back within the hour.”
I flip off the light on my way out, ignoring his protests as I lock the door.
? ? ?
“The Python? What kind of fucked up name is that?” Dante growls.
We’re sitting in his office sharing a drink; him, Gio, and me. Other than his personal guards outside the room, most of the guys have either gone home or are out on runs, so we’ve got the place to ourselves. I’m actually surprised Dante stuck around. Guess this whole Outlier thing has him spooked.
“I tried to get the guy’s real name out of him, but he said that’s all they knew him by.”
“And you say there’s a couple dozen of them?”
I shrug. “Give or take. It’s fluid.”
“Fuck. I do not need this.”
I’m sure he’s wondering what the odds are for nipping this in the bud without attracting Guild attention.
I’m not an expert in how the Black Guild works, but it’s been my experience that they find out anyway, so it’s probably better just to come clean and take their assistance.
Since I’m sure Dante doesn’t want to hear that right now, I wisely keep that opinion to myself.
“Did you get anything off the van?”
“Name and address of the owner. I’m going to check it out later.”
“Take a couple of guys with you. We don’t know what you’ll be walking into.”
“You sure you want them to know?”
“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter at this point. You’ve confirmed we have a situation.”
That’s true.
“What do you want to do about the two clowns in my basement?” he asks.
“That’s up to you. If it was me, I’d let ‘em rot in there.”
“I might need it again before that happens.”
I think about it for a minute. Now that I’ve gotten the information I wanted out of them, I’ve lost interest. “Donnie and Jenkins like to play with their food. Maybe give it to them as a reward.”
He nods. “Good morale is important.”
When he doesn’t say anything else for a while, I figure he’s done with me, and frankly, I’m ready to head home and grab some sleep. The sun’s been up for an hour already, meaning I haven’t slept in two days. I drain my glass and set it on the table then stand up.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
“Cord?” he says as I reach for the door.
“Yeah?”
“Be careful out there.”
“I always am.”