The Night Beat, From the Necropolis Enforcement Files (42 page)

Read The Night Beat, From the Necropolis Enforcement Files Online

Authors: Gini Koch

Tags: #romance, #vampire, #urban fantasy, #action, #demon, #humor, #paranormal romance, #gods, #angel, #zombie, #werewolf, #law enforcement, #ghost, #undead, #shifter, #succubus, #urban paranormal, #gini koch, #humorous urban fantasy, #humorous urban paranormal, #humorous paranormal romance, #necropolis enforcement files

“That was my thought, too. I don’t think they are.”

“Then someone else is helping with the hard work of thought processes. Vicki, darling, stop thrashing.”

“Trying, trying. So, any ideas of who came up with this plan, and why?” I had some, but I wanted to hear what these three thought first.

“Possibly the Prince himself,” Amanda suggested. “Though it seems too….”

“Detail-oriented for him,” Maurice finished. “I agree. It’s possible, but he’s reputed to like minions who can come up with havoc on their own.”

“But all the long term plans are the Prince’s,” Ken protested. “And this is certainly long-term.”

“There are other options. Hitler, some of the other major minions. Lucifer.” As I said it, I knew I was right. Which sucked in a variety of ways, not that I could mention any of them aloud.

The vampires nodded. “This is his style. Smart, sophisticated and very well hidden.” Ken grimaced. “But why execute it through the Adversary?”

I wondered that myself. I had a couple of ideas of why, but one reason stood out the clearest -- because, ultimately, it wouldn’t work. But I didn’t suggest this aloud. There were only a couple of beings I could talk to about this possibility, both of them hanging at the Salvation Center.

But there was another reason, and it was also just as likely. Probably both reasons were true -- Lucifer would have to have a cover reason that flew in the Depths, after all. “Because I’ve got a nifty title down in the Depths -- the Child of the Adversary.”

“Snazzy as that is, or rather, isn’t,” Maurice snipped, “what’s the point?”

“I think I’m the Adversary’s weakness, his Achilles’ Heel.”

Amanda and Maurice didn’t look convinced, but Ken was clearly thinking. “That makes sense,” he said slowly. “Every Adversary can be killed. We’ve killed every one but this one, after all. And we
will
kill him,” he added fiercely.

“I agree, but I think I’m going to have to be the one to do it.”

“Possibly,” Amanda said. “But I’d like to hear more of a reason why, other than blood ties.”

Maurice jerked. “But that’s it, isn’t it? Blood ties. Not necessarily for every Adversary, but certainly for this one. It’s all about bringing the family together for Vicki’s fab parental units. Why would they care unless there was a survival reason involved?”

“Considering my so-called family’s history, they wouldn’t. I think they’ve been after all the werewolves because that’s what I was turned into. Either they’re more affected by whatever breed of undead I am -- so if I’d become a vampire, they’d have spent the last couple of hundred years hunting vampires -- or because it was werewolves who saved me, or a combination thereof. Bottom line is I think that the undeads with the best chances of killing the Adversary are werewolves.”

“That’s great, but there’s a new wrinkle, then,” Amanda said. “You turned Jack into a werewolf, and he’s a part of the Adversary. Meaning that they now incorporate all the werewolf skills along with their standard minion abilities.”

“We’re so screwed,” Maurice muttered.

I considered this. “No, I don’t think so. At least, not yet. Jack sucked as a werewolf, that’s why I got clued in that something was wrong. So either they can’t handle the idea, or the additional skills, or, because of already being the Adversary, they aren’t really a werewolf. No matter what, it’s not taking like it took with me and everyone else.”

“Or they’re processing it more slowly,” Ken said. “And if that’s the case, we have to work fast, before they fully incorporate this new aspect into their overall being.”

“We have to work fast anyway, since there are other aspects of the overall plan working, active and in place. It’s easy to focus on Jack and that part of the plan, but really, we still have a bunch of doppelgängers wandering about, the major minions are still on the human plane, and Nero’s gone AWOL again. And that’s merely for starters.”

“Where do you want to start?” Ken asked as we finally reached the tops of some of the tallest Prosaic City buildings.

“The hospital. I need to talk to Ralph.”

There was a distinct, thudding silence. I waited it out.

“Ah, Vicki,” Maurice said finally. “Are you sure?”

“Is he dusted?” I made sure I had my cop-voice on. Just the facts, no emotional attachment, no guilt.

“No,” Amanda said quickly. “Magdalena was able to catch him. But….”

“But?” I had a horrible feeling what the “but” was going to be, but I didn’t want to guess aloud, just on the off-chance I was wrong.

“But he’s unconscious and in critical condition,” Ken supplied. Damn. I’d guessed right. “He’s about as close to dusted as you can get without actually
being
dust.”

“Wonderful.” I tried not to focus on the fact that I’d essentially put Ralph into harm’s way and kept him there. But it must have showed on my face.

“No.” Ken shook his head. “You didn’t do this to Ralph. Our enemies did, but you didn’t.”

“Really? I didn’t fall for their perfect man trick? I didn’t turn Jack into a werewolf, without asking anyone to verify if he could make the transition well? I didn’t help the Adversary set things up to take out Ralph and everyone else?”

Maurice coughed. “Okay, yeah, you did. But not on purpose.”

“I’ll bet that’ll heal Ralph right up.”

We hit the ground, and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. I had to figure it was going to be the only one I so sighed for a while.

Amanda put her arm around my shoulders. “He’ll forgive you,” she said quietly.

I pulled away. “Maybe he shouldn’t.”

Ken sighed. “Lord, what fools these undeads be.”

Amanda gave me a look I was familiar with -- her “you’re an ass but I love you” look. “Come on, idiot-girl.” She grabbed me again. “Let’s go to the hospital and see just how rotten things are in our personal Denmark.”

“Everyone’s quoting Shakespeare,” I muttered. “What, did H.P. do some weekend course I missed? Just in case, I have one, too. Hey, nonnie, nonnie.”

Amanda laughed. “Glad to see your sense of humor’s back.”

“Such as it is,” Maurice said with a snort.

“Yeah? Let’s hear your Bard quote, then.”

Maurice gave me a long, slow smile. “Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps. Let’s go see which it’ll be for you, shall we?”

“Um, I fell for the trap, remember?”

Maurice still had that wide, sly smile on his face. “We shall see, Vicki darling. We shall see.”

Chapter 60

 

We reached the hospital, but getting to Ralph’s room proved to be a challenge. Due to all the activities we’d been indulging in, admittance rate was still at an all-time high, and we had a lot of beings, both sick and well, to get through.

Monty was just being released as we arrived. He hugged me. “So sorry to hear about what happened.”

“Yeah, I suck at the romance.”

Rover curled up around me and gave me white worm lovies. I scratched his head and felt a tiny bit better. White worms were great because it was exceedingly rare when they made you feel guilty. Usually they just made you feel needed and appreciated.

“So, Jack had us pretty well infiltrated,” Monty said, back to all business. “But it brings up a good point -- how do we know we don’t have more double-agents among us?”

I groaned. “I can’t handle it. Maybe we do. I think I don’t care. I can’t spend all my time trying to discover which unlifelong friend of mine is really working for the Prince. Unlife’s too short, okay?”

Monty shook his head. “Maybe, but we want to extend it as long as possible.” He sighed. “I’ll work on it. You just take care of the here and now.”

“You were suspect number one, if that helps with your search.”

He looked startled, to the point where I thought an arm might fall off, but then he laughed. “You know, that makes sense.”

“You saying we should dust you?” Maurice asked.

“No. But it’s the right kind of thinking. Position of authority, person you’d least suspect, and all that.”

“Ah, that was Jack, and I least suspected us right into almost losing the War.” Something Jack had asked occurred to me. “You know, for sure the Prince’s side suspect we have double-agents.”

“How so?” Monty shrugged. “I mean, it makes sense, especially since they had an active double-agent within our midst. So, really, why wouldn’t they suspect?”

“Why haven’t we suspected? Maybe because the agents, whomever they are, are so good. I mean, Jack was excellent. If he hadn’t lost it tonight, werewolf-wise, I might never have guessed until it was too late.” That it was almost too late for Ralph I did my best to ignore for right now.

Monty looked off into space. “Why do you think they’re searching for an agent? If that’s what you mean.”

“It is. And it’s from the questions Jack asked me. He was trying to figure out if our spies were placed like we were. You know, were the spies equal to your rank, the Count’s rank, and so on.”

Monty and Ken exchanged worried looks. Maurice and Amanda looked blank. “Why would rank matter?” Amanda asked.

“They’re trying to determine how deep our mole might be,” Monty said.

“Or moles. Jack sure seemed to think we had plenty.”

“Which could mean they do, too, or could simply mean they aren’t sure about us,” Ken said. “But, Vic, you said something just now -- Jack lost it? How do you mean?”

“He acted unlike any werewolf I’ve ever known after transition.”

“The walking thing?”

“Yeah, but more than that. He was acting…you know, like someone who didn’t know how werewolves really were might act.”

“Like he’d seen a lot of bad movies?” Amanda asked.

“Yeah, exactly.” I considered this. “Which makes no sense, because they have turned werewolves on the Prince’s side. All he’d need to do was ask them what their transitions had been like and how to act.”

“So either he did that, and ignored it, or he didn’t.” Now it was Ken’s turn to stare off into space. “Speaking as a cop, and not a jilted lover, how smart is Jack?”

“Speaking as myself, who, all things being equal, just did the jilting, smart. He’s a good cop. One of the best, many times
the
best. Oh, damn. I have to call the Chief. He has no idea, and that means Jack could be doing Gods and Monsters knows what to the Prosaic City P.D.”

Maurice cleared his throat. “The Count may have been down, but he was hardly out. Your human police chief’s been warned. He was quite angry -- with Mister Yummy, not you, by the way.”

“Well, that’s something.” Another thought occurred. I was so proud. “Susan.”

“What?” Monty was apparently asking for everyone.

“Susan, the day dispatcher. Jack was sleeping with her. And if my family’s history is any indication --”

“He’s gone off to grab Bride Number Two,” Amanda finished for me. “I don’t want you to go,” she added quickly. “You need to regroup. Maurice and I will take a full squad and see if we can track her down before Jack does.”

“Call him the Adversary,” Ken said.

“No.” I put my hand on his arm. “You really are the best guy anyone could be exes with. But, no. Call him Jack. I need to fight Jack, not the Adversary.”

“You sure?” Ken asked. “Because that seems so…harsh.”

“But it’s reality. My reality’s always been harsh.” I had to remind myself, Ken was the Undead Ideal, but he was from an era so far removed from mine that sometimes it was like we weren’t even talking the same language. “Don’t worry. I’ll be stronger this way.”

“Hell hath no fury like a weregirl scorned,” Maurice suggested.

“Canines don’t lie much and we don’t like those who do. We really hate it when someone close to us has lied, particularly when it’s us they’ve lied to.”

“As I said.” Maurice rolled his eyes. “So, Amanda and I are off to the races. What are the rest of you going to be doing?”

“Hunting moles,” Monty said. “Ken, I’d like your help.”

“He was suspect number two.”

They both gave me a dirty look. “Anyone else called out as the potential betrayer of the ages?” Monty asked rather more snidely than I felt necessary.

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