Dead-Tective Box Set

  "What must you do to atone for your mistake?" Vince spoke up.

  Romero froze and slowly looked over his shoulder. His eyes were wide and he raised an eyebrow. "Why should you care?"

  "I do not, but we are in need of your dog," Vince insisted.

  "We do care, and it is kind of our fault you got into this mess," I admitted.

  Romero turned back to us and looked from one of us to the other. "You're not pulling my leg off with this? You really want to help?"

  "Yes," Vince confirmed.

  Romero rubbed his chin with his hand, and finally shrugged and dropped his arms to his side. "What do I have to lose?"

  "If we fail, your unlife," Vince quipped. I jabbed him in the arm, but he didn't notice.

  "What I need might cost you yours," Romero countered.

  I cringed. "What did you have in mind?" I asked him.

  "The stakeout at the Sea Slug was to find the manufacturing facility for the books. If you two were to find it for me then I could inform my bosses and avoid my permanent expulsion from the force and life," Romero explained.

  I tilted my head to one side and raised an eyebrow. "Wait, so you want us to find out where the books are being made and report back to you? That's it?"

  Romero's frown deepened. "We've searched for months to find those books and we don't have a single lead. Not even a number in an address."

  "When is your review hearing?" Vince asked him.

  "Tomorrow night."

  I sighed. "And let me guess, you need us to find the place before the hearing?"

  "Yes," Romero concurred.

  I turned to Vince. "Mitch?"

  "Mitch," he agreed.

  "Mitch? The guy at the Boo Bar? I wouldn't trust him with a dime," Romero spoke up.

  "He is trustworthy if one has enough money," Vince argued.

  "Yeah, real trustworthy," Romero quipped.

  "We will have your information for you before the night is finished, and you will provide us with your dog. Is that a deal?" Vince questioned him.

  Romero looked long and hard at Vince before he stuck out his hand for a shake. "It's a deal."

  Vince shook his hand and turned down the tunnel we came. I made to follow, but Romero spoke to me. "You must have a hell of an influence over him because he's changed a lot lately."

  I half-turned to him and shrugged. "I guess all it took was some badgering to get him to be nice," I commented.

  A small smile slipped onto his lips. "If the look in his eyes was of a badgered man then there'd be fewer divorces."

  My dam cheeks blushed and I stepped away from him toward the tunnel. "Yeah, well, maybe it's all this dim light. You know, affects the eyes and stuff. Anyway, see you later." I waved to him and fled down the tunnel after Vince.

  I caught up to Vince fifty yards down the tunnel and we walked silently for a few moments. I allowed my eyes to flicker up to Vince's stoic face as he stared straight ahead. Romero's comment was the second time I'd heard somebody tell me Vince had changed because of my doing, Vera being the first person. I leaned closer to the vampire and studied his features. He was always handsome, especially with those new gray streaks in his temple hairs, but I detected a hint of softening around the corners of his lips. There was also a certain playful glint in his eyes that hadn't been there before, but maybe that was some remnant from his brief time as a human.

  "What is it?" he questioned me.

  I squeaked and whipped my face away. "N-nothing," I stuttered.

  "You studied me. What were you looking for?" he persisted.

  "I was just-um, just thinking back to when we first met. Not at the apartment, but at the warehouse where I learned what you really were. I just wanted to see if you'd changed."

  "I do not age," he reminded me.

  I shook my head. "Not that way. Just in the way you move and stuff."

  He paused and raised an eyebrow. "And what have you found?"

  I shrugged. "I'm not sure. I guess you just look nicer, but that could just be me because I know underneath that cold skin you're just a big softy."

  Vince's eyebrow raised higher so it nearly brushed against his hairline. "'Softy?"

  "Yeah. A couple of people said they think you've changed, and I-well, I was just seeing if I could see it," I explained.

  Vince pursed his lips and turned away. "I see."

  I lightly grasped his arm. "That wasn't an insult or anything. It makes you look a lot cuter-um, handsomer-uh, nicer without all that scowling. You know, more approachable," I soothed him. Damn me and my stuttering over his good looks. I blushed and escaped his detection when I looked at my feet and lowered my voice to a whisper. "I think you look better."

  I jumped when he wrapped his hand atop mine, and my head whipped up. Vince still faced away from me, but his tense face had relaxed. For the first time I saw what the others had seen: a man who lay just beneath the cold surface of that undead exterior.

  "I accept your compliment," Vince whispered in return. He shook myself and let his hand that held mine fall. "But this is no time for such sentimentalities. We have been hired to complete several tasks, and none of them are easy."

  He pulled from my grasp and strode down the tunnel. I was left not without guilt or confusion, but with the idea that, as Vince walked away from me, I was seeing a man in the last throes of denial. He was even cuter when he fought against the impossible.

  Chapter 7

  I hurried to catch up to his long strides, but halfway to my partner something slithered from a side passage and grabbed me.

  "Vince!" I barely had time to yell before a cold, three-fingered hand gagged my mouth.

  Vince lay twenty yards ahead of me, and I saw him swing around before a dozen shadowy forms emerged from the darkness between us. They appeared to peel themselves off the very walls and nooks of the tunnel, and I could see their skin that wasn't covered in short shirts and pants was a dark red like the color of old blood. Horns protruded from their heads, and from the backs of their pants swung a thin tail that ended in a point. They all had three fingers on their hands, and three toes on their bare feet. Their eyes glowed a bright yellow that illuminated the ground in front of them. Etched deeply into their skin like tattoos was the mark of the Supernatural Syndicate. They scurried across the ground toward Vince as quiet as church mice but for the wisp of wind that emanated from their quick movements.

  Vince ran forward and met his opponents halfway. He ducked down to avoid a swinging fist by the lead creature, and when he stood he lifted the thing by the chest and tossed it into its fellow creatures. The others climbed over and dodged their dazed companions, and dove at Vince. He disappeared beneath a doggy-pile of red skin and cracking tails.

  I struggled in the grasp of my captor, but their hold was surprisingly strong. Still, I noticed they all appeared to be male. I lifted one leg and jammed it backward into the creature's crotch. The thing let out a high-pitched howl and its hold loosened. I jumped forward, swung around, and punched him in the side of the face while he was down. The thing crumpled to the ground, but he was still conscious.

  I heard a howl of rage and turned in time to see Vince burst from the pile of creatures. Our opponents flew in all directions, but each one landed on all fours even on the walls. They pushed off from where they landed and dove at Vince. He socked, kicked, and ducked the creatures, and made his escape to where I stood. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into a side tunnel with the creatures in hot pursuit.

  "What are those things?" I yelled.

  "Devils," he replied. That explained the tails.

  "Great. Got any holy water on you?" I quipped.

  "No, nor lamb's blood," he returned.

  "So how do we deal with these things?"

  "Decapitation." I stuck out my tongue, but our running meant I bit down a little hard when Vince yanked me into a small brick alcove that held a maintenance ladder. At the top was a covered manhole, but the dim, artificial light told me it didn't lead to the freedom
of the streets. "Climb!" he ordered me.

  I hurried up the rungs, but paused halfway and glanced over my shoulder. Beneath us the devils forsook the ladder and instead used their nimble fingers to catch the tiny crevices between the bricks and climb up the walls after us. I yelped and climbed faster with Vince at my tail. At the top I shoved the manhole upward and over with my shoulder and stuck my head out.

  A train barreled toward me and I ducked down in time to avoid my own decapitation. The short train passed in a split second and Vince shoved me onto the tracks. He followed and jammed the manhole back into place. His strength caused the manhole to bend and warp in its hole, biding us some time. The creatures scratched and clawed at the manhole. Apparently we didn't have that much time.

  I took a step forward to escape, but Vince grasped my shoulder and pulled me back. "Don't touch the tracks. The voltage may kill you," he advised.

  "What?" I yelped.

  He pursed his lips and swept me into his arms just as the manhole flew upward from its resting place. Vince took off down the tracks, and I glanced over his shoulder in time to watch the devils scramble out on all fours like slithering snakes. They rushed after us and the distance between us shortened.

  "Must go faster! Must go faster!" I shouted. Vince didn't increase his speed, though I knew from previous experience that he could've gone faster. "They're catching!" I rephrased.

  A sound in front of us caught my attention, and I looked ahead to see an oncoming subway train. We sprinted along the same tracks. Another blaring horn behind us told me the other track was occupied by another train. We were trapped between a fast rock and a speeding hard place.

  "Any ideas?" I shouted at my partner.

  "Hold onto me," he ordered me.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and he released me so that my legs swung down in front of him. Vince knelt and snatched two pieces of rusted metal from between the tracks. I watched the rear train and the devils race toward us. They weren't as fast as the train so the machine barreled toward them and us. Vince stepped calmly between the tracks as the first train swept past us. We were blocked on one side, and the second train passed our enemies and flew past us. The wind from the long rows of passenger cars tried to blow us over, but Vince pressed his feet into the hard ground. My hair whipped to and fro as the trains fought to see which would toss us into the other.

  The devils didn't dare jump onto the walls of the trains and the small space between them meant they slithered in single-file toward us. The lead devil slid his lips back and showed off a row of sharp, pointy teeth, and he flexed his claws. They were ten yards and closing. I turned away and buried my face into Vince's coat.

  "This is not how I imagined dying," I muttered.

  "Do not lose faith in me," Vince whispered.

  I whipped my head up to look into his face. His eyes stared unblinkingly at our oncoming opponents and his lips were pressed into a thin line. There was such determination and cunning in those bright red eyes that my doubt was swept away. My eyes roamed down to his hands which tightly grasped the dagger-like pieces of metal.

  I heard a cruel, deep chuckle and turned my head The devils closed the gap between us to five yards, and the lead paused. "Nowhere to run, vampire!" it crowed.

  A sly grin slipped onto Vince's lips. "We had no intention of running."

  Vince slammed one of the pieces of metal into the side of the right-hand train that traveled from us to our enemies. The metal stuck fast and was propelled toward the devils. The lead one had time to widen his eyes before the metal sliced into his neck. It cut his head clean off along with the heads of half the others who were just as unprepared for the attack. The other half at the back ducked beneath the impromptu sword, but Vince anticipated their movements in the confined space and slammed the second piece of metal lower so it sat at their new neck height. The metal divorced the remaining devils from their heads, and body and head collapsed to the ground.

  The dead flesh touched the electrified tracks and brilliant flashes of light jolted through their corpses. They hopped and jumped until the charred remains jumped off the tracks and onto the narrow gap between the trains. The end of the trains swept by us and all was quiet and calm.

  "You can release me," Vince spoke up.

  I turned to him and noticed my arms had a death-grip around his neck. "Heh, sorry," I replied as I sheepishly grinned and slid to the ground.

  Vince stepped past me and over to the smoking remains. Head and body were barely recognizable as a humanoid thing, and the smell that wafted from them smelled like rotten eggs. I followed Vince and pinched my nose shut. "You know, we never did find out why they wanted to kill us," I mused.

  Vince knelt down beside one of the corpses. "No, but they made a grave mistake by attacking us," Vince commented.

  "You mean besides us sending them to their graves?" I returned.

  "Yes. They showed us we are on the correct path."

  "Path? Path to where?"

  He brushed his hand over one of the tattoos. "To the leader of the Syndicate."

  I sighed. "But we're not after the Syndicate," I pointed out.

  Vince stood and brushed his hand on his coat. "Have you forgotten the insignia left in the dirt in the Morley basement?"

  I furrowed my brow and recalled of what he spoke. "So you think what? That they might have hid Harriet's body?"

  "Perhaps, but we can now be certain they have a hand in this affair," he mused.

  I ran a hand through my hair and shook my head. "Just great. Devils and ghosts and zombie dogs. What next?"

  "Mitch."

  Chapter 8

  A few minutes later we returned to the underground city where Vince led us to the Boo Bar. The place was hopping tonight, and not just because I spotted some frog people at the far back. Most of the tables were full, even those around Mitch's usual seat. He himself sat at his table with a drink in front of him and his notepad open in his hand. We stopped at his table and stood by his side. Even if Vince wanted to break with tradition and sit down, all the chairs around Mitch's table were taken.

  Mitch glanced up from his notepad, smiled, and shut the front cardboard cover. He leaned against his chair and glanced between our faces. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite two customers. What can I do for you today?"

  "Not in costume?" I asked him.

  He shrugged. "They're all at the cleaners and the new ones are on order. Besides, going incognito as myself is a pretty nice change, but let's get down to business. What were you wanting? Where the best meal can be found in the Underground? Info on where Ruthven takes his laundry?"

  "We require information on the location of the book production facility," Vince told him.

  Mitch's joking demeanor slid off his face and he sat up. "You're joking, right?" Vince just stared at him, and Mitch sighed. "All right, you're not joking, but even if I knew where it was, and I'm not saying if I do or don't, that wouldn't be something I'd sell to you no matter how much money you offered me."

  "Why not?" I asked him.

  "Because I'd be dead before I'd get to enjoy the loot. I heard one of the larger syndicates is managing that place, and I don't want to end up running out of life before I run out of costumes," he quipped.

  "This wouldn't happen to be the Supernatural Syndicate, would it?" I wondered.

  He raised an eyebrow. "What if it is?"

  "Well, we just kicked some of their-"

  "What if we provided you with protection?" Vince spoke up.

  Mitch snorted and pulled out a small spray bottle from inside his coat. Inside was a thick red liquid. "I've got my own protection, at least for a couple of the little guys."

  "A bottle of sludge is going to protect you?" I quipped.

  He rolled his eyes. "This isn't sludge, it's lamb's blood. Guaranteed to cure a bad case of the devil." He leaned back, clasped the sides of his coat, and grinned at us. "And it helps that I can smell those devils a mile away."

  Vince nodded at the bo
ttle. "May I see that?" he requested.

  Mitch raised an eyebrow, but handed over the spray bottle. "Sure, but even you'd better be careful with that-"

  Vince turned to a neighboring table that held four human-looking men talking among themselves. He turned the spray bottle on their table and sprayed a healthy dose over the group. I expected protestations, but instead the men jumped up and screamed in agony. Their flesh, along with the spell that created the human features over their real bodies, melted away to reveal four devils. They clawed at the blood that covered their bare flesh, but that only spread the liquid to their hands.

  The whole Boo Bar jumped from their seats and scurried away from the frantic four and the splatters of blood they flung. The ever-watchful eye glared at the disturbance, but the wild dance of death didn't last long. The blood consumed their flesh in less than ten seconds, and the devils dropped to the floor as piles of bones mixed with clothes.

  Vince turned to Mitch who sat in his chair with his mouth agape. "You were saying?"

  Mitch straightened and cleared his throat. "I was saying that I might need your protection, just until I figure out what these guys wanted."

  "They wished our death," Vince explained.

  "But how did they know we were going to be here and get here before us?" I pointed out.

  "They must have overheard our conversation with Romero," Vince guessed.

  A grin slipped onto Mitch's face. "If they were after you then I guess they've got nothing on me and I don't need your-" Vince slammed the spray bottle on the table in front of Mitch.

  "Your blood killed men of the Syndicate. They will want revenge on you as well as us unless you help us find the factory and distract them with greater problems," Vince commented.

  Mitch's mouth dropped open. "You're seriously blackmailing me?"

  "Very seriously," Vince confirmed.

  Mitch pursed his lips and snatched his spray bottle. He stuffed it into his coat and stood. "Fine, but I'm not going to forget-" Vince held out a roll of hundred dollar bills. Mitch automatically snatched the roll and stuffed it into his coat. "Already forgotten. Now let's step into my office." We moved our conversation to the quieter quarters behind the rear door of the Boo Bar. Mitch spun on his heels and faced us. "All right, what did you need to know?"