Blood Work (18 page)

He picked up a
twig and began picking yellow-grey… well, I didn’t want to think
too hard on what it was, but it came out from between his teeth in
stringy little clumps that he then sucked off the end of the stick
with a happy little smile. Ghouls. Yeesh.

“That freakin’
ghost tour came through. Here half the night they were. All
pretending to be jumpy and scared and squealing and stuff. Gave me
the worst headache. I’ve hardly slept all day.” He narrowed his
gungy, vertically slit eyes at me. “And then you come along. What’s
your issue, Night Caller? Can’t you let a fella get some peace and
quiet, huh?”

“The modern
world is tough on Old World creatures, isn’t it,” I said without a
trace of sympathy. “Maybe you should move to a less popular
cemetery.”

“And leave all
this good eating?” He patted the ground next to him fondly. “The
older it is, the more tender it is. The eviler it is, the more
flavour.”

I smiled,
though I’m sure it was a pale, sick one. “Then learn to deal,
Kermit. Or go see a therapist.”

“Heh. How’s
that workin’ out for you? Got that temper under control yet?”

I had to stand
and relieve the strain on my strapped knee. “I’m not here to talk
about me.” Pausing, I reconsidered. “Well, actually, I am. I got
jumped by six Reds last night.”

Kermit’s bones
rattled as he stood as well. He was a foot taller than me, when he
was all unfolded, but about half the mass. I guess you don’t
actually get many carbs off rotting corpses.

“Six, hey? The
little vampire take them out?”

“She wasn’t
with me. I did for four and the others scarpered. One of them was
apparently a big wig in their circles. Possibly a colonel. Know
anything about it?”

The ghoul
tilted his head back and looked at me down the plane of his wide
nose. “You’ve come into some knowledge.”

“Yeah. Though
it would have been nice, considerate like, to get it from my
friends, instead of a stranger.”

Kermit
slouched across the grove and hunkered down in the heavy shade of a
scrubby wattle. “We aren’t friends, little man.”

“You got me
there, but damn it, Kermy, you’ve been snitching for me for the
better part of a year. Some heads up about this would have been
appreciated.”

“I might pass
on the odd bit of information, when it suits my needs,” Kermit
snarled. “But don’t mistake it for anything like social courtesy.
You’ve made your position on those of the Old World very clear. You
and your tame vampire slicing and dicing wherever you go. No regard
for who you cut down, or why. If they ain’t
human
,” he spat
the word, “then they’re only worthy of dying. Isn’t that right?
It’s a wonder I’m still alive. With an attitude like that, you
expect us to take you in, serve you tea and reveal all our ins and
outs? You’re mad, if you think that. Mad.”

I gaped at
him. “Wow. I mean, that’s brutal, man. You’ve really opened my
eyes. I’ve been so wrong. Put in my place by a sod-sucking freak
who sells information to the highest bidder. I don’t know what to
say, except maybe, bullshit.”

Kermit lurched
out of the shadows, on his feet in an instant. I stood my ground,
hand ready to whip out the Cougar if my instincts proved wrong.
They didn’t.

The ghoul
staggered to a stop a couple of meters back from me, bending over,
hands on knees, wheezing. He was laughing.

“You’re a
freak, Kermit.”

“Ah, gotta
try.” He straightened and cracked his spine with a series of teeth
aching snaps. “But still, your rep isn’t too popular among the
crowd. You took out Hayfa a couple months back. She wasn’t doing no
harm.”

I shuddered at
the memory. Ghouleh (the feminine of ghoul) were, if possible,
uglier than their male counterparts. Think Kermit but with two rows
of sagging breasts that oozed vile, brownish milk, and more teeth.
I’d chased Hayfa down the Queen Street Mall and in the ensuing
scuffle, she’d developed the impression I was after something more
than an old fashion fisticuffs. I’d lost my pants and she’d lost
her head. Three in the morning, mind you, and still someone managed
to see me and call the cops.

“She was
raiding veterinaries, Kermit. Taking the animals.”

He scoffed.
“You bring me dead animals all the time. Hey, got any more
Pomeranians? That sure was tasty. And tender, after three weeks
buried in the bank of the river. Nothing like pampered pooch
to—”

“They weren’t
dead when she took them. She was taking the ones from the cages.
People’s pets, Kermit, that were alive and about to go home to
little kids who missed their cat or dog. And now they don’t have
their pets anymore. All those sad little kids, Kermit. Hayfa
crossed a line. She paid for it.”

Kermit
shrugged. “Whatever. Still, you’ve drawn a hard line. Don’t expect
those of us on this side of it to like it. Why should we make your
job easier for you? Any one of us could be next.”

“Don’t do
anything to piss me off, then. It’s that simple.”

“For you
maybe.” He returned to his place in the shade. Pale skin and all.
He didn’t want to catch a bad case of melanoma. It was hard to get
a doctor to do a house call to a cemetery. “This isn’t our world
anymore. We’ve passed from the collective memory into myth and
nightmare. It’s hard to adjust, you know.”

I crossed my
arms. “The vampires seem to have done better than I’d thought.
Military ranks, Primals, wars.”

“Lots of
information come your way, huh? I guess it was all a matter of
time. You were bound to find out at some stage. Just a little
shocked you lived long enough to get here. I’m still in the pool,
though. I’ve got you pegged for a three year and seven month
career. So, keep it up for a bit longer, eh? I get a week in an
abattoir if I win.”

Kermit and all
his grubby little Old World friends were taking bets on how long
I’d survive? Have to admit, it didn’t really inspire much
confidence. I mean, it meant they all pretty much thought I was
done for one way or another. But still, I didn’t, and never would,
look for validation amongst the freaks. Kermit was still alive
because he kept mostly to himself and, upon occasion, was a useful
source of information. And he hadn’t seriously pissed me off.
Yet.

“Good luck.
Now, can we get down to business. I don’t have all day. What have
you heard about this Red colonel? When did he hit town? Why is he
here? Where’s he holing up during the day?”

“Whoa.
Business you said. That implies supply and demand. You’re demanding
some pretty hefty stuff there. What are you going to supply in
return?”

“My best to
survive another two and a half years.”

Kermit waved
it aside. “Not good enough. I want guarantees, little man. You
could die in a drive-by shooting tomorrow.”

“Well, I’m
fresh out of Pomeranians. I don’t exactly carry dead animals around
with me. Anything else you want? Some pants, maybe.”

“Why?”

And the sad
thing? He was totally innocent as to why.

The ghoul
scratched his bald head between the tops of his ears. “Well, there
is something I would like.”

“Being?”

He eyed me
carefully. “A pint of her blood.”

That took some
wind from my sails. “Mercy’s blood?”

A black tongue
darted out to lick the rim of his mouth. Did I mention earlier that
ghouls don’t have lips? “Mmm, vampire blood. It’s like mulled wine.
Great for a chilly winter’s night.”

I resisted the
urge to grab the gun. Ghouls could swallow bullets like we could
pop multivitamins. Took a lot of them to do any damage, more than I
had in the clip. And it wasn’t like he actually asked for her whole
body. A pint of blood. She could lose that with no issues, and I
could top her up no worries. Still, it was a big ask. Mercy would
do whatever I told her to do, but I had a responsibility to
her.

“No. Pick
something else.”

Kermit didn’t
protest my refusal, which made me wonder if he’d asked just to see
how I’d react. Lucky I’d kept my cool. Instead, he stalked toward
me again, at a slow, deliberate pace, not meant to intimidate or
scare. He circled me, flat nostrils flaring as he sucked in my
scent. All the creepiness from my walk through the cemetery came
right back. Not to mention his eau de Ghoul.

“Your watch,”
he finally hissed.

My watch. Did
he not know how long I spent in Myer trying to choose which watch I
was going to spend my hard earned cash on? How I had battled the
hordes of shop assistants? The very difficult decision between
classic and new whiz bang? I nearly offered him Mercy’s blood.

“Are you sure
about the pants? Real police issue. I’ve already given one pair up
to the good cause that is human-ghoul relations. No problem with
offering another pair. They’re yours. Think of all the little
snacks you can fit in the pockets, eh? Very handy.”

Kermit looked
them over, but shook his head. “I don’t need pants.”

“But you need
a watch?”

“Got to keep a
track of the time, especially with those pesky ghost tours coming
through here all the time. Nearly got caught with my mouth full
last night.”

I groaned.
“Anything else at all?”

“The watch,
little man.”

Grumbling all
the while, I unfastened it and… I couldn’t witness this. Eyes
tightly closed, I let the Rolex drop into his waiting hand.

“Thank you.”
Kermit crouched down and slipped it around his bony wrist. “Now,
what was it you wanted to know?”

“The Red
colonel. Who, when, why, where.”

“Narsico
Martínez Pérez. He was some head honcho of the Spanish Inquisition
in the early 1700s. Pretty vicious by all accounts, though I reckon
he called it a strong work ethic. Now this is just a rumour, so
don’t go thinking it’s gospel. But word is that he was terrorising
this little village in the who-knows-where wilds of Spain when he
decided to take his leisure with a girl of the village. Thing was,
she was very recently deceased.”

I swallowed.
“But she wasn’t, was she.”

“Nope. He
thought so though. Bit of a shock for him.”

“Ugh. That’s
wrong on so many levels.”

Even Kermit
shuddered. “Tell me about it. That’s like boning your
breakfast.”

Another image
I didn’t particularly need. I could do with a mental scouring. “And
now he’s a mega-strong vampire soldier. When did he hit town?”

“’Bout a week
ago. Rallied up the local troops and has been sniffing around ever
since. Sent them all out looking for something, don’t know
what.”

Grimacing, I
muttered, “I think I know what he’s been sniffing around for. So,
where’s he hanging his fangs while he’s in town?”

“Um, well, I
don’t know. Somewhere.”

“Gosh, we hit
the bottom of that well pretty quick. I don’t believe you don’t
know. Or if you don’t, that you can’t find out.”

Kermit held up
his hands, my watch glinting on his wrist. “Honest, man, I don’t
know. Don’t know anyone who does either.”

I circled the
outer edge of the grove, keeping one eye on Kermit while scanning
the surrounding plant life.

“Now, see,
Kermy, I don’t believe you. You’ve been trying to play me the
entire time I’ve been here.”

He shook his
head, but I didn’t let him speak.

“You’re
keeping me here, aren’t you. Distracting me with small talk. You
probably didn’t realise you did it, but when I first arrived, you
called me ‘Night Caller’. As far as I knew, that was a new name
given to me by Martínez. None other than Big Red himself. Who’s
coming up behind me, Afzal?” I spat the name and he knew I was
serious then.

The ghoul
hissed and lunged at me. I pulled the Cougar and put a couple of
rounds into his chest. He jerked with every impact, squealed with
pain, but he didn’t go down. Kermit staggered for me, long arms
outstretched. I jumped out of his way and retreated.

Right into the
trap.

Two hands
wrapped around my ankles. I looked down. The arms grew out of the
ground, fresh dirt clinging to the pasty grey skin. Uh oh. Kermit
had a friend. I hoped it wasn’t Miss Piggy.

Wiry muscles
like steel cord tensed. I fired into the ground, but the hands
tightened and jerked me down into the graveyard.

Erin sat in the back of an
ambulance, wearing nothing on top other than her bra. She was
grateful she’d gone with a nice, cream lace full-cup. Not too much
showed, not that anyone cared. Even the camera guy from the local
news kept his camera pointed elsewhere.

Two ambulances
had already screamed off down the hill, taking the two injured
children to hospital. No fatalities, thank God. Just panicked,
angry civilians and frustrated police. Miss Browne had an ‘attack’,
asthma only, though to hear her go on you would think she’d had a
heart attack and stroke all in one. Erin had been doing her best to
console the witnesses to the drive-by until Ivan had directed a
paramedic to her.

Ivan sat
beside her, his hands bandaged. He’d dropped as soon as she’d
shouted and hauled himself under the car. His palms were a little
torn up but otherwise, he was okay. Except that he couldn’t stop
shaking.

“It’ll be
okay, Ivan,” she said gently. “The kids will be fine. I’ll be fine.
You’ll be fine. Okay?”

He nodded but
it was small and pathetic.

“Ma’am?” The
paramedic working on her shoulder lifted her arm up. “Does this
hurt?”

“No. It’s all
right. Just a scratch.”

He looked
pointedly at the gash on her shoulder. “It will need stitches. The
bullet tore through some outer muscle as well.”

“Can you do
that here?”

“No. You need
a doctor. We’ll get you to the hospital shortly.”

A plain
clothes policeman swaggered over. “Not before she answers some
questions. Can you slap a bandage on that so she doesn’t bleed out
while we’re talking?” He was heading toward retirement age but had
retained a full head of thick hair more salt than pepper, the face
beneath it lined and tanned with sharp eyes and a mouth suited to
the dour seriousness of his profession. He’d kept himself in
fighting condition, his T-shirt and jeans wouldn’t have looked out
of place on a guy half his age. “I’m Detective Sergeant Miles
Courey.”