The Light Who Shines Read online

  Chapter 14

  The Hunt

  Jack Tanner: May 27, 2022, Red Ages

  After getting the latest report about the Rowan Park area murders, I flip open my chimerator and chime Ernesto.

  His face appears on my polished onyx stone. “Good evening, Jack.”

  “I just got the report on the murders. I’ll meet you at the water tower in ten. We’re hunting together tonight.”

  Snapping the chimerator lid closed, I gaze out the windshield, trying to calm my rapidly increasing pulse. My fangs are already fully elongated. A rage fills me and quickly escalates to the boiling point at just the thought of the threat of the Dark Vampires who dare to move into Blue’s neighborhood. A deep, undeniable primal instinct to protect her pervades me.

  There is no question. They will be eliminated tonight.

  Ernesto arrives just after I do, wearing a loose-fitting black linen tunic pant set. During the day, he looks like a gentleman of leisure in his white linen pant sets, but at night he wears black and looks the picture of lethality.

  We’ve hunted together so many times during the last hundred years that we know each other’s minds. Ernesto knows I have a special interest in protecting this vicinity. He’s never indicated that he understands why, but he’s no fool.

  I’ve already started climbing the water tower, and Ernesto follows closely behind. Pulling myself up the pole on the side of the ladder hand over hand, ignoring the rungs, I quickly attain the lookout position. Circling the tower, surveying the neighborhood with my eagle sharp eyes and sniffing the air, I search for the smallest hint of Dark Vampire presence. My gaze is so precise that I can see a mouse from miles away. The joy of the hunt is on me.

  Ernesto does the same, moving in the opposite direction.

  “Nothing,” I say. We climb down and run to the schoolyard on Washington Street. At our fastest speeds, our movements appear as blurs to the human eye. I ascend the school building via the ridges in the bricks. My nostrils flare and my eyes scan, watching, listening, scenting. We circle the building but are disappointed once again as only the smell of children lingers here. With silent leaps, we drop off the edge of the school to the playground below.

  Ernesto and I know that Dark Vampires hide in locations close to humans. We know all the tall structures in each neighborhood, and we have memorized our route. We meet at our third rendezvous point, St. Michael’s Church. We scale the building silently and climb the steeple. The smell of something foul, rotting blood and flesh, comes from the northeast. I indicate my discovery to Ernesto by a whisper that is so soft it is less than the fluttering wings of a gnat.

  Ernesto nods almost imperceptibly. He moves closer to my position, and his nostrils flare as he catches the same scent. We scan the area but see nothing.

  I descend the building to follow the scent and close in on my prey, my senses sharpening all the while. The world is a glitter of brilliant light to my eyes even in depths of the night. The disgusting aroma of rot assails my nostrils. From the scent I can tell that there are at least two Dark Vampires, and they turned at least three days ago.

  I shift from shadow to shadow, tenaciously stalking them, interminably closing the distance. With a motion for Ernesto to take position and guard the escape route, I circle around them.

  We are just five blocks from Blue’s building.

  I am aware of the slightest breezes and circumnavigate around them, keeping the Night-Crawlers upwind. This means I have to travel further away from Blue’s place. My fury fuels my blood to a hot rush, and my blood vessels strain against the confines of my skin, but I keep in rigid control.

  I can smell three of them now.

  A dog barks, filling the night air with his unheeded warning. Still the Night-Crawlers move a block south, closer to Ernesto and closer to Blue.

  I am two blocks away from them now, coming from the north like an iron machine. Operating at warp speed, I cover that distance in a second and stand still under a large oak. Scenting the air, I know I am right on them now, and I smell a human in their vicinity. I hear them stalking their prey just as I stalk them, but their mindless evil knows little caution.

  I whip around the corner of a three-flat building. A woman sits under a porch light on her balcony on the top floor, oblivious to the danger of the Dark Vampire climbing the post just below her deck. A second Dark Vampire, a female, hangs upside down from the beams that support the deck. Her long, greasy, blond hair that was surely beautiful just days ago hangs down in clumps, and saliva drips from her desperate mouth as she relishes her future meal. The third Dark Vampire’s position is unknown.

  I quickly scale the post behind the first male. He sees me and jumps to the second story balcony. His eyes glow red, and his fangs further extend as he hisses, frustrated at being deterred from his quarry.

  The woman screams, and I hear the opening and closing of a sliding glass door. It’s little protection from the terror that awaits her just outside.

  I pay no attention to my prey’s warning, and with lightning speed, circle him, reaching for a stake in my ammunition belt at the same time. He twists to the side, trying to escape, but I grab his shoulder with my left arm in an unrelenting grip. Bringing my right arm down in an arc, I impale his heart through the muscle and bone of his back.

  As my first prey falls to the deck floor in a shower of ash, I turn to the second without pause. Instead of fleeing, she’s leaping over the balcony toward the woman’s sliding glass door. Her savage mind has apparently obscured her ability to recognize the threat of imminent death. Her foot dangles for a diminutive space of time as she goes over the balcony, intent on her victim.

  I reach up to grasp the bottom beam of the balcony and leap for the top railing with my other hand. Glass crashes. It must be the door to the apartment. With a push of my arm, I propel myself up and over the balcony. Kicking off the railing, I leap onto my prey as she moves through the entrance. I straddle her back and crush her against the shards of glass that are still attached to the door frame. The woman’s scream carries from somewhere in the back of the apartment. With my hands wrapped around the female’s head, I twist until the satisfying crunch of fragmenting bones rewards me. With one more swivel and wrench at her head, muscle, sinew, and flesh shred, until it separates from her body.

  I stand above her with my foot on her back as her body continues to writhe. With a flick of my wrist, her head sails backwards over the balcony. Then in one continuous movement I bring my arm back, grab another stake, and bring it down between her shoulder blades and into her heart.

  The smell of the woman’s fear wafting from the depths of the apartment commingles with the scent of burning flesh from where the stake entered the malevolent being. The body of the Dark Vampiress has disintegrated into another pile of ash, and only a remnant of scent hangs in the air marking her previous existence.

  Just as I stand and scan my surroundings for the third Dark Vampire, I sense him too late. He jumps from the roof onto my back, and we both sail over the balcony. I land on my feet, with evil still attached to my back and clawing at my neck. His nails puncture my neck, and his putrid scent fills my nostrils. With a mighty push of my thighs, I leap fifteen feet in the air as my enemy rips a hole in the side of my neck. The pain is incredible, but it’s of little consequence in the moment. With a twist backwards in midair, I position my prey so that as we land he is crushed beneath me, and then I immediately rock my body forward. The impact loosens his grip somewhat, but he maintains his clasp on my neck. This Dark Vampire is strong, but he’s not strong enough.

  I wedge my hand under one of his and using both hands, I snap his left wrist, making it useless for the moment. At the same time, I hear a whirring of wind behind me as a blade slices through air, then flesh. I roll forward, and the Dark Vampire’s remaining hand loosens as his head rolls off his neck and onto the grass below. I jump up and turn in one movement. Ernesto is calmly wiping his blade on the grass.

  With a swift kick to the h
ead, I send it far from the body, which is still squirming and grasping uselessly where it lies. I rip the bottom of my shirt and tie a hasty tourniquet around my neck, though the wound is already healing. Turning to Ernesto, I smile. “Mi amigo, thank you for watching my back.”

  Ernesto smiles in return as he reaches over his shoulder and slides his sword into his scabbard. “No hay problema. That one was like a leech, stuck to you and trying to suck your blood.”

  I chuckle and then restlessly look up to the night sky. The moon is obscured by a cloud, and the stars shine brilliantly. “Do you have holy water on you?”

  “Sí, señor, claro. You have places to go?”

  My rage toward the Dark Vampires and my fear for Blue have subsided into a restlessness that I know will not ease until I check on her. With a sigh I turn to Ernesto. “The woman will need to be calmed down, and the body needs to be eliminated. Can you stay to finish this up?”

  Ernesto smiles gently. “Of course. Go do what you must.”

  I pat Ernesto’s shoulder in thanks. Thanks for his help, his understanding, and his silence. Then I give into my burning urge and run toward Blue’s apartment. As I leave, the sizzle of holy water meeting Dark Vampire flesh and a soft poof fill the air, telling me the body has disintegrated into the final pile of ash.

  In no time, I arrive at Blue’s apartment and do a patrol around the building. The man I’ve placed to watch her apartment sits quietly in his car across the street. I scale the stonework on my way to inspect the roof. As I hang from the small ridges in the stonework, the wolf smells me, and I smell him through the wall. He growls warning at the scent of a fellow predator. I chuckle softly. Perhaps this wolf will be useful after all.

  Blue’s even, slow breathing from her bed warms me, and I am satisfied that her slumber is undisturbed. Feeling much better, I head for home and the lonely meal of bagged blood that will sustain me.

  Chapter 15

  A None Too Gentle Reminder

  Bluebell Kildare: May 28, 2022, Red Ages

  I’m awoken suddenly by my phone’s blaring ringggg, ringggg! I extend my arm and thump along the nightstand, searching blindly for the blasted thing. After encountering what feels like my keys, a glass of water, and a candle, I admit the necessity to open at least one eye. Squinting, I flip the phone open and mumble, “Hola.”

  “Blue?” Gambino says.

  “What do you want?” I ask, not even attempting to hide my irritation about the early morning phone call.

  “Someone broke into the evidence locker, and the only evidence box opened was the one for our case.”

  This not only requires that both eyes be open but also that I remove myself from my inclined position. Irritated at the necessity, I sit up.

  Gambino continues. “What is strange is that nothing was taken.”

  “They want the amulet,” I say unnecessarily. Of course we both know that.

  “Do you still have it?”

  I weigh my answer and settle on, “Yes. It’s well hidden.”

  “Good. Now listen, there was no sign of forced entry.”

  “Hmm.” My interest is piqued. “Did you catch anything on camera?”

  My mind starts spinning through the magical capabilities that would allow someone to steal something in a protected room without breaking and entering. There are a number. Someone could locate the object and dematerialize it. But nothing was missing. Someone could hypnotize the guard and just enter. Someone could simply break in with skill and stop the cameras like my coworker Xavier Ramsey does. Someone could also portal in and portal out. That would fit with the rapid disappearance of the man under the truck and in my alley.

  “Negative. The cameras are located on the outside entrance of the room. No one came in that way,” says Gambino, “and the exterior walls are well warded. We don’t know what this is. It could be an inside job or someone working some magic. Given the situation, if you’re sure your hiding place is safe, it is probably best for you to hold on to it.”

  “Wait, Gambino. How did you know someone had broken in?”

  Gambino’s gruff voice answers, “The heat censors inside set off an alarm. We know someone was in there, we just don’t know how they got there or how they got out.”

  “Well, at least we know it wasn’t a phantom. I’ll ask Jack to file the paperwork to keep the evidence in our possession.” I breathe a sigh of relief because I wouldn’t be able to give him the amulet anyway, given its capabilities. Feeling somehow accomplished at avoiding that discussion, I move on to the next topic of the day.

  “By the way, I’m going to question the O’Connells this morning.”

  Gambino says, “Let me know if you find anything interesting, and I’ll let you know if we get anything on the vehicle. Sorry to wake you so early.”

  “No problem,” I lie. “Thanks for calling,” I lie again.

  I flip the phone closed and slide back down under the covers, rolling over in their cozy warmth. Then I feel a weight dip the mattress down toward the floor. I roll back over and glare at Varg, who is looking at me hopefully.

  “Okay, okay,” I say. “I’ll take you out.”

  Reluctantly, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed to start my day.

  At seven o’clock sharp, I pull up to a curb in the neighborhood of Talon’s Grasp in front of Jason’s father’s residence. Squinting through the morning sun, I see a mundane, brick row house that looks about right for a middle-aged, middle-income man who is still supporting a family in another house. I imagine he’s no longer required to pay child support, but Jason was almost eighteen, so that’s probably irrelevant.

  As I exit my car, I close the door on Varg, who looks at me unhappily as I leave him behind. The cool mountain air still hugs the earth from the night before, so I know he won’t overheat in the small space of time I’ll be away. As I walk up to Ian O’Connell’s townhome, I prime my sixth sense to get a candid look at his feelings.

  A man quickly answers the door wearing a pair of tan tweed pants, loafers, and a light sweater. His face is unshaven, and his dark, thick hair is rumpled. Bloodshot eyes framed in dark circles stare back at me. I glance inside, but it is difficult to see beyond the wide shoulders blocking my way. I deduce this is Mr. O’Connell because I feel huge gray waves of grief flowing from the man.

  “Mr. O’Connell?” I ask.

  “Can I help you?”

  I show him my ID. “I’m Inspector Kildare with the Supernatural Homicide Investigation Unit. I know you’ve already answered some questions from the Crimson Hollow Detectives, but do you mind if I ask you some questions as well?”

  Mr. O’Connell glances at my ID and twists his lips in a bitter parody of a smile. “Yes, of course. It’s ironic how you police people are all very interested in my boy now that he’s dead.” His voice is heavy with anger and pain.

  He waves me into a living room that is just beyond the entryway and says in a resigned voice, “Well, come on in. I’ll tell you what I can.”

  I step over the tile entry and into the sad living room. It’s furnished bare bones with a blue plaid sofa that has seen some wear and a cheap glass coffee table. A small, outdated television sits in the corner on a spindle leg bookcase. It looks like he did his shopping at a resale store, which is not unexpected given his situation. Aside from the eclectic décor, the place is comfortably lived in and not overly messy.

  We sit at opposite ends of the sofa, and I dive right in so he doesn’t have a chance to prepare himself. Making sure that both my face and my voice are laced with all the empathy I would feel toward a totally innocent man, which he very well may be, I slowly and softly say, “Mr. O’Connell, first of all, let me tell you how very sorry I am for the tragic circumstances under which you lost your son.”

  I see tears spring to Mr. O’Connell’s eyes before he turns his face to swipe them away. The emotions I feel from him are still coming in very loud waves. The strongest feeling is of huge loss and very deep grief. Tinges of anger, guilt
, and fear lace through the grief, and my job is to figure out why.

  Mr. O’Connell says, “Thank you, Inspector. You can call me Ian.”

  I look at him gently and ask, “Ian, do you know anything about where your son was on April 28?”

  By the way Ian is looking down at the carpet and furrowing his brow, I can see he struggles with how to answer this. Guilt floats in the air around him in accord with his averted eyes as he answers. “I’m sure you heard that I’m separated from my wife.”

  I say, “Yes, I’d heard that,” keeping my voice free from judgment. I hope he is about to reveal the reason for his guilt.

  He continues quietly with a faraway look in his sad eyes. “Unfortunately, because I moved out, I wasn’t up to date with what Jason was doing on a day-to-day basis. I was out of touch. The detectives have already confirmed he was at school that day, and he just didn’t come home. They thought he had run away, but Sandy and me, we didn’t believe it. I can’t say more than that.” His voice falls off at the end of his answer, and he takes a deep breath.

  I wonder if this is the source of his guilt: that he had been out of touch with his son. It could be. In his eyes, he may have failed Jason in his hour of need.

  I ask, “Can you tell me what he usually did? Who his friends were? Where he usually hung out?”

  Ian sighs and focuses his gaze on the blank TV with another blast of guilt permeating the air. The corners of his mouth turn down in a frown. “Jason was a very serious boy. He kept to himself most of the time. Maybe it was because of the magic stuff.” When Ian says the last, I feel a spike of fear coming from him.

  He continues. “He had a hard time making friends. The only person he really hung out with was a boy named Tim Pulgowski. They would hang out after school. I don’t know where they went. My wife always kept up with that stuff.”

  “Do you know Tim’s address?”

  Ian looks at me directly now and says, “Sandy will have it. Have you talked to her yet?” I feel suspicion coming from him now. I think he’s fishing to see if he’s the only one being questioned.