Chapter 29 Cord
THE HEADACHE I had last night is back with a vengeance, but that’s what happens when you’re stuck in a closed cell with two screaming vamps and buckets of blood.
Yeah, I’m getting paid for it, and I love torture as much as the next maladjusted sociopath, but some things go above and beyond my patience.
I’m about to tuck my phone away in my pocket when I notice the message light blinking. I click on my voice mail.
“Hey Cord, give me a call when you get this. Elaine has come up with some new information about the Python. You’re going to want to see this.”
I punch in Asher’s number and wait for him to answer.
“Cord?”
“So what’s this new information?” I ask.
“We may have his identity and a picture.”
“You say you may have?”
“We’re about ninety-nine percent sure. I’m on my way home right now. If you want to meet me there, I can show you the file.”
I glance back at my two victims. What I wouldn’t give just to be able to put them out of my misery, but I don’t know if what Asher has will trump what I can get here. “I’m kind of tied up right now. You say this is good?”
“Yeah. It’s good.”
If it’ll give us the identity of the Python, it might be good enough to get me out of torture duty. “I hate to ask this, but do you think you could bring it by Dante’s warehouse? If it’s as good as you say, he’s going to want to hear it, and I’d rather it be firsthand.”
He hesitates for a minute, then sighs heavily. “Sure. Give me the address.”
I ignore the reluctance in his voice and give him the information he needs to get here.
I really don’t like getting Asher involved in this part of my life, and I know what a volatile combination he and Dante can be, but this goes beyond personal feelings.
We’ve got to catch this guy, and any leg up we can get is worth the trouble.
After I hang up, I grab a towel and wipe myself off then head upstairs to tell Dante about this latest development. Hopefully it’ll soften the blow from my failure with the prisoners.
Dante is out on the floor with Gio huddled over something Uno is showing them. When I walk up to them, Uno turns to me.
“You use it?”
“Yeah.”
He looks like he’s ready to explode. “So, tell me. I need details.”
You’d think he’d never used the stuff before, though according to Zeke, he came from a death squad in Japan.
“It was loud and messy,” I reply. “His skin turned first red then black and smelled like he was burning from the inside out. Took him about ten minutes to die. I might add he was screaming the whole time.”
I don’t miss the sadistic gleam in Uno’s eyes. “So he suffered?”
“We all did, having to smell and listen to it. But as far as it being an effective weapon, I’d say yes. A few bolts of that could wipe out anything the Python could throw at us. Plus it scared the hell out of the other two vamps.”
“See, I told you,” Uno says to Dante, who turns back to me.
“What did you learn from them?”
“Not much, unfortunately. They aren’t Outliers; make of that what you will. And whatever hold the Python has on them, it’s strong. I’ve never seen that kind of loyalty before.”
“You were convincing?”
“I used my best tools on them,” I snap, biting back my temper. “You can go look at their bodies yourself.”
“That won’t be necessary. Where do we go from here?”
“Funny you should ask. I got a call from Asher a few minutes ago. He’s on his way over here with what might be the identity of the Python.”
Dante looks surprised. “He’s coming here?”
“Yeah. I told him if it was as important as he says, I’d rather he give you the information firsthand. You guys can play nice, right?”
“I have no problem with Asher.”
I can hear the lie in his voice, but I’m pretty sure Asher can handle himself. He’s not that shy kid I used to stick up for anymore. And I don’t think Dante would be stupid enough to pull something on him with me here. They may not like each other, but hopefully they can work together.
We’re heading back to Dante’s office when Roland approaches. “Boss, there’s a guy here wants to see you. Says he’s a friend of Cord’s.”
Dante glances at me. “Bring him to my office.”
If Asher is uncomfortable when he enters Dante’s office, he doesn’t act like it. He looks around, nods to me, then approaches Dante’s desk.
“Dante.”
“Asher. Cord tells me you found out something about the Python.”
He sets a folder down on the desk and opens it, pulling out several pages. “Once we had the name of the bar, we were able to follow the money back to its ultimate owner. That’s his picture.”
Dante picks up the page and looks it over. “Who is he?”
“Howard Thalium, owner and CEO of Python Industries.”
Dante looks more closely now. “Python Industries, you say?”
“Yeah. According to our math, Thalium is in his late sixties. That picture is a year old.”
I lean over the desk and peer at the picture. The quality is poor, but it’s obvious the subject appears too young to be that age.
“So he’s a vamp?” Dante asks.
“That would be my assumption,” Asher replies.
“This the best picture you’ve got?”
“That’s the only picture we’ve got. Thalium is kind of paranoid about his privacy.”
“Howard Thalium, huh?” Dante scans the article in front of him. “You know anything about where he lives?”
“We’re still working on an exact address,” Asher tells him. “We do know it’s somewhere in the city.”
Dante looks up at me. “You think you could use this information to break our friends?”
I shrug. “It’s worth a shot.”
To be honest, I was hoping this would make them irrelevant. The last thing I want to do is go back in that cell right now.
“I don’t want to tell you your business,” Asher ventures, “but do you really believe someone as meticulous about his identity as Thalium is going to entrust any worthwhile information to his subordinates?”
Dante’s jaw ticks and I can hear him grinding his teeth. It’s obvious he’s fighting to control his temper. “Probably not,” he answers tersely. “But you never know when someone might let something slip.”
Asher shrugs like he didn’t just piss off the head of the Crimson Guild. “Suit yourself. I’ll let Cord know when we get an address.”
“Or you could just call me,” Dante says.
Asher pauses for a minute, a sly smile playing at his lips. “If it’s all the same to you, I prefer dealing with Cord.” He looks around the room. “If there’s nothing else, my work here is done. Gentlemen.”
He turns and heads for the door like he just dismissed a board meeting. I knew Asher could be cold, I’d just never witnessed it in action before. Considering where he is, the man has ice in his veins.
I hesitate for a moment then follow him out, catching up with him as he’s getting into his car.
“That was…reckless.”
He turns to me and grins. “Was it? I was in hostile territory where Dante is used to getting his way. I brought him the information like you asked, which by the way he showed zero gratitude for, so don’t expect me to play by his rules. I didn’t get where I am by bowing to bullies.”
I open my mouth to say Dante isn’t a bully–not really–but stop myself. Defending Dante to Asher would just lead to another fight, and I might lose all of Asher’s cooperation.
“I’m sorry. This was a bad idea.”
“I agree, but I did it because you asked.” He steps closer and closes his hand around mine.
“I respect your decisions, Cord, but just know they’re not always going to agree with mine.
Catching the Python is important for all of us, so I’ll do whatever it takes to help you in that regard.
But I don’t work for Dante, nor do any of my people. ”
He leans forward and brushes his lips across mine. “That has nothing to do with you and me.”
He gets into his car, but before shutting the door, he adds, “I’ll be up late, if you want to stop by.”
I watch as his SUV pulls away, torn between admiration for him and disappointment in myself. Asher was right; Dante had shown no gratitude for the information. And now I can’t help feeling embarrassed by my choice of allegiance.
Damn it.
He did it to me again.
I turn and storm back inside, ignoring Dante’s calls to me as I cross to the break area where the liquor cabinet and oversized refrigerator are located. I yank open the door of the fridge and grab two bags of blood, then head downstairs to the basement.
Vamp 1 is awake again, his one eye tracking my movements as I shrug out of my jacket and toss it aside.
I tear open one bag of blood and guzzle it in front of him before pulling out my switchblade and stalking over to him with the second bag.
I lean close, dangling it before him. His veins should be eating him alive by now.
“Want this?”
His eye widens as he licks his parched lips. “Y-yes.”
“Tell me about Howard Thalium.”
“Who?”
I flick the blade open and jam it into his shoulder. “Howard fucking Thalium. Know him?”
He screams as I yank the blade out and run it down his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“No?” I puncture the bag with the tip of the blade and hold it under his nose. “That’s funny, since you work for him.”
His body shivers, his face slack with hunger, but he doesn’t answer me. I dip the blade into the bag and run it over his lips. His tongue snakes out, licking at the blood, and a moan escapes his mouth as he lunges forward for more.
I pull the bag away and shake my head. “Uh uh. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll give it to you. Surely you’ve heard that name before. Maybe he told you, maybe you overheard a conversation.” I bring the blade close to his remaining eye. “Maybe you saw something.”
He shakes his head, his eye fixed on the bag. “I don’t…I mean, I’ve never seen him.”
“Never seen who?”
He hesitates, and I stick my finger in the bag and rub it across his lips. “Never seen who?”
His body is shaking with need now as he licks his lips clean. “Please.”
“Answer the question and I’ll give you more.”
“The Python.”
“You’ve never seen the man you work for?”
“No. No one has. At least, no one I know.”
Interesting.
“So who do you take your orders from?”
When he doesn’t answer, I tip the bag up and pour a few drops into his mouth. He laps at it like a starving dog, his moans filling the air. I pull the bag away and shake my head.
“No more till you answer the question.”
He whimpers and drags his tongue over his lips. “More please.”
“Listen carefully.” I smack him on the head with the knife to get his attention. “Who. Do. You. Take. Orders. From?”
“Please,” he whines. “I need more.”
My patience is starting to run thin. “Then answer the fucking question.”
“R7.”
“R7? What’s that?”
“He calls himself R7.”
“What kind of name is that?”
When he doesn’t answer I give him a few more drops of blood. It’s not enough to heal; only to tease. “What kind of name is R7?”
“We all have them. That’s how he recruits us.”
“So you’re like soldiers?”
He nods.
“And how many of you are there?”
He lunges forward again, trying to get at the bag, but I jam the knife into his other shoulder and push him back against the wall. His head slumps as his body wracks with sobs.
“P-please.”
“Do that again and I’ll pour it on the floor.”
“No, please. I need it.”
“Answer the question and I’ll give you more blood.”
“I don’t know,” he wails “I swear.”
“Okay, how many have you seen?”
When he continues to cry, I pour a few more drops of blood on his lips. “You’ll get more when you answer the question.”
“Maybe a couple of dozen. Maybe more. We’re not all together.”
Another interesting tidbit. So he has more than one hideout. Which means he could have dozens, if not hundreds, of soldiers. This just keeps getting better.
“How long have you been with him?”
He stares at the bag expectedly, and I pour a couple of drops on his outstretched tongue then pull it away. “Answer the question.”
“About a year.”
“Where are you from?”
He starts whining again as his body shudders with need. “Please, more.”
“It’s a simple question. Where are you from?”
“P-please!”
“Answer the question.”
“Albany. I’m from Albany,” he murmurs, sagging against the chains, his one eye fluttering shut.
“See, that wasn’t so hard.”
So the Python has been recruiting soldiers for at least a year, and not all of them are from the city.
Makes me wonder how far his reach stretches.
I doubt I’m going to get much more from this one, since he doesn’t seem to know anything about the Python himself.
I wonder if this R7 was in the warehouse.
Maybe he was the one who escaped to the bar.
It sounds like he’s the only one who knows the Python–or Thalium–personally.
Which means we need to find R7, and the sooner, the better.
It looks like Vamp 1 has passed out again. I grab him by the hair and shake his head to wake him up. “One more question and you can have the bag.”
He opens his eye and stares at me groggily. “More blood.”
“One more question. Was R7 at O’Hara’s?”
“O’Hara’s?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. We followed your guys to it.”
“I’ve never been there.”
Are you fucking kidding me? How the hell are we supposed to find this asshole if he’s got his men scattered all over the city?
I stare at the piece of shit hanging there and have to stop myself from pummeling him into paste.
Instead I tip the bag of blood over his face and squeeze, letting it run over his lips and down his chin.
He struggles against the chains, his outstretched tongue lapping at it, but most of it ends up dripping down his chest.
“W-why did you do that?” he wails.
I toss the empty bag aside and offer him a sadistic grin. “Because I could.”
And because I can’t stomach another minute of this asshole’s bullshit, I walk over to the table and pick up the crossbow and shoot him.
I don’t stick around to watch him die.