Shadows of Deceit (A Series of Shadows) (21 page)

Over the years, and with the evolution of technology, they tried to study themselves to pin down what happened. Even with the most cutting edge science, Sanguinostri blood remains a mystery. Once the blood leaves the body it has some sort of self-destruct mechanism that renders it impossible to analyze in any way. This is both a blessing and a curse. It makes it extremely difficult for a normal person to be infected or turned, but it also prevents them from finding a way to reverse the process.

The initial word that would come to mind was “
vampire”
but that was, and is, not accurate. The word and folklore surrounding it was created by frightened, ignorant people. All the books and movies are pretty much crap. Sanguinostri do, in fact, need to ingest blood to survive but they also eat and drink like everyone else. They have no aversion to sunlight and sleep in beds like normal people. They are not, strictly speaking, immortal and can be killed. Severing a Sanguinostri head and keeping it away from the rest of the body being the most effective method. Sanguinostri metabolisms are very different. There is rapid cellular regeneration which enables severed limbs, fingers and the like to be reattached if held in place long enough for the tissue to re-root, so to speak. While regeneration is extremely rapid, conversely, there is ultra-slow aging. It had been explained to Lou as being like dog age, but in reverse and to a greater extent. It would take roughly two hundred human years to age a single Sanguinostri year. Thus the reason for Max looking like he is only in his late thirties, early forties at best. Max had been turned just before his twenty-first birthday, nearly three thousand years ago.

Over the millennia, Stewards have been recruited to assist the Sanguinostri. In many cases it is a long standing family tradition to become a Steward, as in Joe McAllister’s case. Being a Steward does not necessarily mean that you are automatically turned. That is a very prestigious and coveted gift to be bestowed. It is also excruciatingly painful and in many cases, deadly. The process of turning takes what is called a Lunation. There are very precise and exacting measures that must be taken and the process itself lasts twenty-eight days. There are no guarantees that a person will survive the process. Since the discovery of DNA in the late 1800’s, early 1900’s, Sanguinostri scientists have been able to devise a test to perform on an individual who faces turning. The blood is tested and a percentage can be given with relative accuracy as to whether or not they will survive. However, there is no getting around the length of the process or the pain that must be endured.

While the Sanguinostri are highly evolved, enlightened and gifted people, as with all things there are bad apples in the bunch. In the earliest days a system was created. Blood was offered by a willing gifter and in return the Sanguinostri provided protection, safety and very often wealth and comfort. This has become the requisite course of practice and is an honored tradition. Sadly, honor is not a concept shared by all. In the beginning it was not the original elders but a few of their offspring that grew with a sense of entitlement. These few bad apples viewed humankind as inferior and no more than a commodity to be used. When the elders discovered that these individuals were abusing their gifts, keeping humans as blood slaves or recklessly stealing blood from unwilling sources, often for the sport of it, they were executed summarily. This holds true to this day. Disregard for human life is a sin for which there is no absolution.

Over the years a record of sort has been kept of gifters. Small offertory vials are kept sealed and protected as remembrance of the honor they bestow upon Sanguinostri kind by sharing their life for the preservation of the race. The Sanguinostri never forget their allies or those that protect their secrets. With the advancement of technology, many of those blood lines have been sampled and made into digitized records while the actual vials are stored in the old tradition. Not many know this, it is a well guarded secret for a myriad of reasons. Similarly, there is a record kept of those who have exploited and debased the gift. Frank was well aware of both records and this was what he had alluded to during his conversation with Caroline. Max was one of the select few permitted to access this information given his being a Dominor and member of the Senatus.

Frank needed the Angela Boone data from Caroline in order to have Max check it against the Sanguinostri records. It was unlikely, but something was nagging at the back of his mind that had him thinking the woman might be tied to the Sanguinostri on a bad level. Perhaps it was her family, a distant cousin, whatever, but if her DNA had a thread linked to someone in the gifter database or worse, the illicit one, it was going to mean trouble.

“You don’t look happy.” Abby announced as soon as she saw him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Frank answered.

“Cow pies.” She plopped down next to him. “Why do you insist on going this route? You know damn well I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I’m telling you the truth. Nothing is wrong.” He grumbled. “Not yet at least.”

“OK so what do you think is going to be wrong?” Abby persisted.

“I have a bad feeling is all.” He wasn’t sure why or what prompted it so it was ridiculous to get into.

“A bad feeling like in the pit of your stomach or a bad feeling like you got a massive wedgie?” She smiled sweetly when he looked at her like she was insane.

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” Frank asked and stared at the pixie with her her impish grin and flame red hair swept up into pigtails. She was a little sister to him and he adored her.

“It’s a gift.” She shrugged. “Now answer my question.”

“I don’t know.” He grumbled again. “I am not sure if Lou’s case has Sanguinostri hands on it directly, but I think there might be something. I think this Boone woman is the key.”

“I hear ya.” Abby propped her feet up on the coffee table and sighed. “I have the same feeling.”

“You do?” Frank seemed surprised.

“Yeah. Can’t put my finger on it either.” She wiggled her toes. “I’ve been digging but I’m not finding anything. I need more data.”

“Me too.” He was suddenly mesmerized by Abby’s socks. They appeared to be gloves with individual fingers but for the feet as opposed hands. The blindingly bright stripes made her feet look freakishly wide. “What the hell are you wearing?”

“My happy toe socks.” She grinned. “How can you be in a bad mood when you’re wearing happy toe socks?”

“Hard to argue with that.” He couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks.”

“What for?” She rested her head against his shoulder.

“For being you.” He chuckled at her toes.

“Ah. No need to thank me for that.” She poked him in the rib. “Not like I can help it or anything.”

“Once again, hard to argue with that.” He watched her wiggle her toes some more but the spell was broken when his cell phone alerted him to a text message. “Caroline has the DNA.” He leaned forward abruptly, sending Abby crashing behind him.

“Hey!” She protested as she righted herself.

“Sorry. She emailed me the report and I have to get it to Max.” He began clicking away at one of the numerous laptops sitting on the coffee table.

“Get what to me?” Max asked as he walked in and removed his soaking overcoat.

“The DNA for the female victim. The bogus Angela Boone.” Frank’s fingers were going as fast as he could muster.

“Why would you need to give that to me?” He asked as he loosened his tie. “You do the work, I give the orders, remember?” He grinned and winked at Abby.

“Usually, but this is different.” Frank gave the touchpad one last click. “There, I sent a copy to your secure system. I need you to run it. You know what I mean.” He looked Max dead in the eye.

“Really?” Max’s face turned stoic as soon as he realized what Frank was getting at.

“Really. I may be way off base but I have a bad feeling.” Frank sighed heavily.

“What’s going on?” Abby was a little lost.

“Frank will explain while I take care of this.” Max told her as he headed for his bedroom. “Let me get out of these wet clothes first.”

While Max changed, Frank explained his hunch to Abby. The fact that she was Max’s right hand, Frank being everything left, as she often put it, Abby was aware of the existence of the records. The Aegis Council, Frank and Abby were all privy to top level things but that didn’t mean they had access to them. There were very strict rules in place to preserve the integrity of the Sanguinostri at the highest level.

When Max returned wearing jeans and a Los Angeles Kings hockey jersey, Abby and Frank gaped at him. Abby could count on one hand the times she had seen Max wearing a pair of jeans but never had either of them seen him wear any sort of sports apparel.

“What?” He just stood there. “What are you two gawking at?”

“A Kings jersey?” Abby asked him. “Really?”

“Why not? They made it to the playoffs didn’t they?” He sat down at the desk and booted up his computer.

“Since when are you a hockey fan?” Frank asked in astonishment.

“Niko got me interested.” He tried to appear casual. “It’s an excellent sport. Why shouldn’t I show a little team spirit?”

“Niko is into it because Lou is into it and got him hooked!” Frank laughed.

“Which means you’re into it because Lou is!” Abby giggled.

“That’s so juvenile.” Max pretended to ignore them.

“Yeah it is! It’s hilarious too!” Frank couldn’t stop laughing

“Aww! I think it’s cute!” Abby grinned. “You should take her to a game! Oh! We can get season tickets! Or one of those sky boxes! Lou would love that.”

“Look into it for me.” Was all Max said but he knew Abby was right. “But don’t say anything to Lou about it yet. Please.”

“You may as well buy a suite. Both the law firm and security can use it for entertaining clients and stuff like that.” Frank suggested.

“A suite at Staples Center for like everything?” Abby thought about it for a minute. “That would be quite brilliant. All the sporting events, concerts. Something for everyone and it wouldn’t look like you got it just for Lou and hockey!” She bounced up and down.

“Make it happen.” Was all Max said.

“The level A suite that’s above section 111.” Niko said as he walked in the door looking like a drowned rat.

“That good?” Max looked up and asked him.

“Well, Lou loves center ice.” Niko spoke loudly as he walked into his room. “She has ticket stubs all from section 111. The A Suite looks like the lowest level so, that would be my pick.” He came back out toweling himself off.

“You heard the man.” Max winked at Abby and she got straight to work. “Still raining out there I see.”

“Just a bit.” Niko grinned at him. “It’s going to make tonight fun.”

“You mean tomorrow morning.” Frank corrected him.

“Whatever.” Niko balled up the towel and threw it at him. “When is this weather supposed to let up?”

“Weather report says it should be moving out later tonight.” Abby informed them. “Looking at the radar it looks like things are already breaking up around Santa Barbara so I’d say a few more hours of this then you should be good to go.”

“Good. It’s depressing me.” Niko said as he plopped down in an arm chair and kicked his feet up. “I can hardly wait for summer. Do a little surfing, a little water skiing. It’s going to be nice.”

“When was the last time you surfed?” Frank scoffed.

“1962, in Fiji.” Niko grinned. “That was one wicked summer.”

“Alright little surfer girl. We have some work to do before we head out.” Max snickered. “Take a nap if you want.”

“A nap? Are you implying I am an old fart and need to nap between assignments?” Niko feigned a look of insult.

“I’m not implying anything.” Max barely glanced his way. “I know you’ve been going non-stop for over twenty-four hours and if you are planning on flying one of our most expensive aircraft in the rain, I want you sharp.”

“Point taken.” He got up out of the chair and stretched his arms to the ceiling, almost touching it. “I’ll go grab a few winks. Yell if you need me.”

“Sweet dreams!” Abby shouted after.

A few moments later a frown spread across Max’s face as he looked at his screen. “I want to know everything there is to know on the descendants of Salvatore Rojas. I am sending you his data now.”

“There is a link?” Frank was watching him carefully.

“A familial match. Nail it down.” Max shut down his computer and walked in to his room, slamming the door behind him.

“That can’t be good.” Abby spoke only after he was gone.

“Nope. But we both had a feeling.” Frank looked over his shoulder at her. “I’ll take care of this. You keep working on getting us that suite at Staples.” He grinned at her.

“Consider it done.” She grinned back and they both resumed typing away.

Behind his closed door, Max paced. He was not happy with what he pulled up from illicit database. The woman that called herself Angela Boone was a familial match to Salvatore Rojas who had been put to death in 1962 in Colombia for running an extensive blood slave operation. He was a Steward to the South American Dominor, Max’s long time colleague, Victor Marcos. Max knew this was in no way a coincidence and somehow or another this case was connected to the Sanguinostri. How the hell was he going to explain this to Lou? Caroline, Joe and Max had sold Lou on becoming a part of their world based on the fact that the Sanguinostri were a people of honor and justice, unfettered by bureaucracy and politics. Only weeks ago a former Aegis Council member, someone Max once considered a friend, had been running across the planet murdering women then kidnapped and tried to kill Lou. Now a second killing spree was upon them and somehow the Sanguinostri was involved. He had no idea how he was going to explain this to her. His only shot was figuring out who and why, then serving them up to her on a silver platter.

Captain Davidson’s approval
for overtime was contingent on Lou, Vinny and Dillon taking a few hours down time beforehand. Vinny and Dillon had been going non-stop since the headless bodies were found and Lou needed to pace herself whether she liked it or not. Despite the moans and groans, none of them were too upset about taking off after they finished the Peter Taylor interview. They had rookies running down the addresses Taylor had given them and nothing else required immediate attention. Everything could wait until tomorrow. A few showers and a few winks were just the ticket to get the trio refreshed and sharp for their midnight helicopter ride.