Dead-Tective Box Set

  He raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

  "'Where it began' could mean where he met one of us, or Bat. Where'd he meet you guys?" I questioned him.

  "Venice."

  I cringed. "Well, since I don't think Tim had time to hop on a plane and do something over there, let's assume it's where he met me. That'd be the park downtown."

  Vince snatched my hand and pulled me towards the car. "We must hurry before the day comes."

  I looked behind us at the roaring fire. "Uh, what about Bat?" I reminded him.

  "He will not be bothered by our leaving."

  "You're such a romantic," I quipped as he dragged me into the car.

  Vince pressed his foot to the gas pedal and never let it leave the floor as we careened down the country roads and back into the dark city. The clock was ticking. The sun would rise in a few hours, and we'd have to go underground, or at least take a long nap. Vince drove through the less busy side streets and we ended up on the far side of the park near one of the parking lots. He finally pressed the brake and we skidded into one of the many empty spots in the lot.

  I opened the door and stumbled out. "I wish you wouldn't be trying to do Ruthven's work by killing us," I scolded him.

  "Where exactly did you meet Tim?" Vince questioned me.

  I nodded at the far side of the park. The place was a menagerie of bike and walking trails that wound around a large pond made in the likeness of the number eight. The center was thinner than the two ends, and over the center was a stone bridge. Trees grew around the water and spotted the green grass that bordered the walking paths. Hills rolled through the park and assisted the various hedges of bushes in obscuring a clear view of the entire area in any one spot.

  "Over here," I told him.

  I led Vince along the deserted walking path and over the hills to the stone bridge over the clear, serene water. We crossed the bridge and I paused to glance at the water beneath us. The still surface reflected my face, and I saw it was ghastly pale. I reached up and touched my sallow cheek. Vince came up beside me and set a hand on my shoulder.

  "We don't have time for this," he insisted.

  I shook myself and nodded at the bushes that sat at the end of the opposite side of the bridge. "I found him in those bushes."

  Vince strode over the brush and waded into the mess. He knelt down and disappeared beneath the scrawny branches. "There is something here."

  "What is it?" I asked as I hurried forward. I reached the brush as Vince stood. In his hands was a dirt-covered metal box. There was a lock on the front in the form of a man's wizened old face with an open mouth. My eyes widened at the familiarity of the lock and box. "That's just like the box Tim hid under his bed, and isn't that the same lock like you have on the money box?" I pointed out.

  Vince freed himself from the brush and led me over to a nearby stone bench. He set the box on the bench and inserted his finger into the mouth of the lock. The mouth bit down hard enough to draw blood, and the mechanism sprang open. Vince lifted the lid and revealed a-book?

  My mouth dropped open. It was a book with a bumpy, plain brownish cover with faded gold inlay. There wasn't any writing anywhere I could see. "That's it? That's why Tim was killed?" I asked Vince.

  Vince pulled the book out and flipped through the pages. I could see a gibberish language on the sheets and a few pictures. The farther he flipped the deeper Vince frowned. "This book is the master spell book, the one on which the others have been based."

  "So we found the template for those others? What's so important about that?" I wondered.

  "There are a great deal of spells in here that aren't contained in the mass-produced books. They are powerful spells, spells even Vera would have difficulty casting, and Bat would have had trouble concocting," Vince explained to me. He paused at the last page and his mouth was slightly ajar.

  "What? What is it?" I asked him. I slid beside him and glanced at the page. It was handwritten like the other pages, but the ink was fresh and vibrant. There was an illustration of a ring—our rings-and notes in English that included the ring specifications and ratio of human blood to vampire blood. "Our rings? How'd he find out this stuff?"

  "Through trial and error," a voice spoke up. We whipped our heads up and saw Ron Field standing ten yards from us. His usual thin smile was on his tight lips and he bowed to us. "But Lord Ruthven would be better at explaining the intricacies than I. If you would come with us, he awaits your presence at his home." He paused and held out his hand. "But first, the book, if you will."

  Vince shoved the book into my hands and the ring on his finger glowed. "We have dealt with you before," Vince warned Field.

  Field bowed his head. "You have, but not with those I have brought." He snapped his fingers and from the darkness emerged doppelgangers and werewolves. The dogs snarled at us, and the doppelgangers gnashed their long, sharp teeth. "You may be able to destroy the doppelgangers with your light, but the werewolves will certainly destroy you while you're distracted, so what will it be? Will you come?" Vince snarled, but straightened and his stance relaxed. Field's smile broadened. "A good choice."

  Field snapped his fingers again and a pair of werewolves came up behind us. One grabbed Vince's hands and clamped silver manacles with steel inner lining over his wrists. The other werewolf tried to snatch the book away from me, but the moment his clawed hand touched the cover a burning light shot from the fabric. The light soaked into his body and raced up the veins in his arms. He had enough time to howl in pain before his body was engulfed in the light and he exploded into a million falling pieces of glitter.

  "Holy shit!" I yelped as I stumbled back from the exploded werewolf.

  Field's mood darkened. "Give the book over to me," he demanded.

  Vince stiffened. "Do not give the book to anyone," my partner ordered me.

  "What? Why? What the hell's wrong with this thing?" I asked him.

  "The book cannot be taken from you," Vince explained.

  "How the hell is that going to help me if they kill me?" I argued. One of the werewolves snuck behind me, and I swung around and pressed the book against him. The light engulfed him like his companion, and in a few seconds there was another shower of glitter. "Oh, that's how it's going to help," I quipped.

  "So long as you hold it you will not be harmed, but you can't say the same for your partner," Field spoke up. He held up one of his hands with his fingers splayed outward and his palm facing towards me. His fingers glowed with magic, and I saw a glow beside me.

  The bands around Vince's wrists glowed with a similar light. The top half of the inch-thick silver melted and morphed into thin tendrils. The tendrils rose up like attacking snakes and snapped their bodies against Vince. He cried out and stumbled forward as their points of attack sizzled from the contact of vampire skin against silver.

  "Vince!" I yelled. I spun around and held the book towards Field. "Let him go or everyone gets a taste of the book!"

  Field closed his fingers towards his palm and the tendrils latched onto Vince's arms. They sank through his clothes and smell of burning flesh permeated the air. Smoke rose from Vince's body and he stumbled forward and fell on one knee.

  "There are several ways to kill you both at the same time. My fingers might slip and your partner will die," Field threatened me.

  I clenched my teeth and glared at him. "Fine! We'll go with you!" I held out the book.

  Field's eyes flitted to one of the doppelgangers. The shadow creature flew over to me and snatched the book from my hand. Field lowered his hand and it ceased to glow, releasing Vince from the bindings of the silver tendrils. A werewolf clamped silver manacles on my wrists and pushed me forward. Another pulled Vince to his feet and shoved him beside me.

  "That was not wise," he hoarsely whispered to me.

  "You got a better plan?" I hissed.

  "There will be enough talk when you speak with Lord Ruthven," Field told us.

  The henchman led our large group of supernaturals throu
gh the park to the parking lot where sat our car. A doppelganger slithered out from beneath the car and grinned at us. That explained how they followed us. I spat on the creature, and it recoiled and hissed at me.

  Besides our car, there was a large, steel-looking van and several small black cars. The rear doors of the van opened and the werewolves piled inside. Field led us to one of the sleek black cars and opened the door. He turned to us with that sick smile on his face. "Step faster. The lord awaits us."

  Chapter 9

  We slipped into the car and found it had a back with opposing seats that stretched across the entire width of the vehicle. There was a dividing wall between the rear and the front, and a closed window that could slide down. We took the rear seats, and Field slid in after us and took the seat opposite where we sat. The car pulled out of the parking lot and bumped along the roads towards our unknown destination. The windows were too darkly tinted to see out them. I could tell we moved at a fast clip because of all the bumps we rode over.

  Field held the book in his lap, and his hand brushed against the cover. "Quite an exquisite piece of work. Real human flesh for the cover, though you can't tell," he mused.

  I cringed and leaned toward my partner. "Remind me to wash my hands when we get out of this," I whispered to Vince. Field chuckled, and I whipped my head to our captor. "What are you laughing at, Chuckles? We're going to kick your guys' asses when we get to your boss' place."

  "False bravado will accomplish nothing," he countered.

  "Who said anything about false? If I'm going to die I might as well take you guys with me," I quipped. I leaned forward towards Field and studied him. "I was wondering, do you wear the same suit every day? I mean, that's the only outfit I've ever seen you in. How did you get the sewer stains off after the last time I kicked your ass?"

  The smile slipped from Field's lips. "If you-"

  "Bleh bleh bleh. That's all you bad guys do is talk this, threaten that. Get over yourselves. We're not afraid of you, are we, Vince?" I turned to my partner and winked at him. "Come on, you know you're not afraid of a little itty biddy wizard man here."

  "Sorcerer," Field corrected me.

  "Suck-up, more like it. How do you manage to talk when your lips are permanently sealed to Ruthven's ass?" I asked him.

  Field's hands tightly gripped the cover and if it hadn't been magical I imagined he would have torn the tome in two. "You are irritating me. Shut up," he demanded.

  I snorted. "Uh-huh. Vince, care to tell him how likely it is I'm going to shut up?" I requested of my partner.

  "Not likely," he assured Field.

  Field raised his hand and his fingers glowed with that dark wizard light of his. I felt my lips press together against my bidding, and Field's sly smile slipped onto his pale lips. "That will do until we reach Lord Ruthven's home."

  I tried to open my mouth, but my lips wouldn't budge. He'd glued them shut with magic. I scowled at our captor, but he only continued to smile. Oh hell no. If I was going to get driven to an evil guy's home with his main henchman staring at us the whole way, I wasn't going to go quietly. I lifted my feet and slammed my heels on the controls that covered the door to my left. They were locked, but the force of the blow meant my feet sank deep into the controls. Sparks flew from the panel and the window inched down a few inches.

  "Stop that!" Field ordered me.

  Field stood, but so did Vince. Vince pushed off our seat and rammed his shoulder into Field's chest. The lackey was shoved into the back of his seat and pinned there by Vince's body. The book clattered to the floor and I felt my lips freed of their incantation. "Dibs!" I yelled as I dove for the book.

  Field managed to get a hand between himself and Vince, and a pulsing light erupted from his palm. Vince flew back and collided with me as I lunged for the book. The pair of us toppled into our seat in a mess of flailing limbs and complaints. "You need less pointy shoes!" I scolded my partner as he jabbed me in the gut with his footwear.

  "That is quite enough!" Field commanded. He snatched the book from the floor and stood over us. If he'd been a demon fire would have shot out of his ears and nostrils. Instead he was a sorcerer, and the mad sorcerer's hands blazed with his dark power. He pointed his free palm at us and his eyes blazed with fury. "You-"

  "They will not be harmed," a voice spoke up.

  Field winced and dropped his hand to his side. I looked around the small space, and my eyes fell on the window to my left. There was a dark void instead of the reflection of the interior, and inside the void was the image of Ruthven. He smiled at us and bowed his head. "A pleasure to see you again, and we will meet soon. Field, restrain them and no more." Ruthven's face disappeared.

  Field pursed his lips, but raised his free hand and waved it in the air. I felt myself float off the floor and land comfortably on the seat. Vince's body did the same. Tight ropes of magic appeared out of thin air and wrapped themselves around our torsos, pinning our manacles arms to our sides. The bands also wound around our mouths, cutting me off from my fun. Field smiled, seated himself on his seat, and sat quietly with the book safely in his lap.

  The rest of the car ride was uneventful and took only a few minutes. The car coasted to a stop and the door to my left opened to reveal a zombie manservant complete with monkey suit. He stepped back and Field exited. Field's hand trailed behind him, and I felt the bonds around me lift me from my seat. I was turned upside down, and the same was done to Vince. We floated through the open door and caught our first glimpse of Lair Ruthven.

  His home was a large Victorian mansion on one of the taller crests of hills that surrounded the city. Its tall, peaked gables cut through the sky and, rather than wood, the siding was made of sturdy rocks scavenged from the local area. Paned-glass windows glared down at us as we walked the cement path to the double-doors hewn from oak. The home was surrounded on all sides by large, ancient oak trees, and a green, lush yard lay at their roots. Bushes leaned against the side of the house beneath the lowest of the paned-glass windows. The entire perimeter was surrounded by a ten-foot tall fence made from the same rocks as the house. In the shadows of the bushes and trees dozens of werewolves and doppelgangers lay in wait for intruders to snack on.

  Vince and I floated up the path and through the front doors. The inside was lavishly decorated in early-medieval torture chamber. Weapons hung from the walls, everything from axes to ninja stars, and suits of armor and iron maidens lined the walls between lavish wooden, Renaissance-era tables. I thought perhaps he was compensating for something.

  Field guided us across the carpeted wood floor and to the rear-left part of the house. A door opened on our left and we entered a double-floor study. The room reached into the second floor, and the balcony up there was lined with bookcases. The lower floor was much the same except the bookcases were interrupted by a large stone fireplace and the entrance. A desk sat at the back of the room, and behind the desk was a window that stretched nearly to the ceiling. Seated at the desk was our host and prime captor, Lord Ruthven.

  He smiled and stood as we entered, but a look at our floating and his eyes flickered to Field. "Release them. They are our guests," he snapped at his servant. Field bowed his head, and with his fingers he righted us and released us from his hold. The lackey moved over to his master and handed him the book. Ruthven's smile returned as he swept a hand over the cover. "What an interesting adventure this has been, and such a nuisance. Tim had a great deal of courage and stupidity to steal this tome from me."

  "I'd say the first one," I spoke up.

  Ruthven looked up from his book and at me. "You, in particular, have surprised me, Miss Stokes. I would never have fathomed a novice such as yourself would be such a nuisance, but you managed my manservant quite well." Field, who stood off to one side, frowned, but said nothing.

  I shrugged. "I have a gift for being a nuisance. Just ask Vince."

  Ruthven chuckled. "'Vince?' Have you become as cozy as that so quickly?"

  "It's either that or d
o a murder-suicide," I quipped.

  Ruthven opened the book to the final page. "As amusing as this conversation is, I'm afraid we must get down to business. You see, I've been working on my own set of rings like those you wear. It's taken me quite a few centuries to figure out how Batholomew achieved the success that he did, and I'm afraid I've utterly failed to duplicate the process. My blood is not as energized with magic as was Batholomew's."

  "Have you tried draining it all?" I asked him.

  He slammed the book shut, tossed the tome onto the desk and turned his attention to us. "No, but on the subject, I'd been meaning to have a personal interview with the gentleman, but my doppelganger who followed you tells me he's dead. Is this true?"

  "'fraid so," I told him.

  "You wouldn't be lying to me, would you?" he mused.

  "We're the good guys, remember? We don't lie," I reminded him.

  He chuckled. "I see. Well, no matter. I have a pair of rings here which I can use to achieve the power and longevity I seek. The only problem remains on how to convince you to grant me custody of 'Vince.'"

  I glared at him. "You're babbling. What the hell do you want from us, and can we get it over with?" I questioned him.

  Ruthven smiled and bowed his head to me. "You're quite right. I'll be frank. What I'm proposing is that you pass your ring to me and grant me full custody over Vincent. I'm sure it can't be comfortable for you to be chained to someone of such a temperament. He is rather old and, from what Field tells me, rather unfriendly. Then I will have the power I seek, and you can go on with your life." He held his palm out to me. "What do you say? Will you reclaim your life?"

  Chapter 10

  I had to admit the idea was tempting, but there was one problem. "Nice try, but I can't get it off," I told him.

  Ruthven raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, I'm sorry I asked for your permission. It seems we'll have to remove it the old-fashioned way. This will be messy, but won't kill you to ensure Vincent survives." He snapped his fingers and Field stepped forward.

  The sorcerer waved his hand, and from the hall flew one of the axes that graced the walls along with a chopping block. Ruthven stepped back, and the block was set down between him and us. My manacles were loosed and fell to the floor with a clank, but Field's power wrapped around my left wrist and yanked me forward. My hand was slapped palm-down onto the block and my fingers were splayed out. The ax hovered over me and my eyes widened as it tilted back for a downward swing.