Imperium (Caulborn) (7 page)

Megan waved a dismissive hand. “Galahad XI has asked us to speak with you on a matter of some importance. Shall we speak here, or is there somewhere else you would rather discuss this?”

“My people are loyal, Caulborn Hayes. Here will be fine.” He gestured to a pair of leather recliners that sat facing the couch. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

Megan and I each took a chair. Bruli’s red gaze stayed fixed on Megan. For her part, Megan sat there calmly, her legs crossed, her hands resting in her lap. If she was nervous, she sure didn’t show it. Bruli wasn’t even looking at me and he made me uneasy. I had to give Megan credit, she was good.

Bruli smiled. “To business, then.”

“Oh, you and your business,” said one of the women seated next to Bruli, who detached herself from the couch and moved toward me. Now, I was certain that had I been seeing her disguised, I would’ve been enthralled, but a walking corpse moving toward you while swaying its hips is unsettling, to say the least. “Let’s have some fun, first. What do you say?”

“I’m spoken for and she’s the jealous type,” I responded.

“Tut, tut,” she said, seating herself on the arm of my chair and brushing my ear with a pale, dead hand. “I don’t mind sharing. She could play too, if you’d like.” An unwelcome image of me, Petra and a corpse in a threesome sprang up in my mind. This was going beyond disturbing. I gently removed her hand. Her flesh was cold and clammy, and touching it made my skin crawl. She pouted, then turned her attention to Megan. “How about you? I could teach you things that would drive any man or woman wild.”

“Tempting,” Megan said in that same cool tone, “but I’ll pass.” The vampire pouted again. Then she squinted at Megan and froze.

“Strigoi Viu,” she whispered.

Oh shit. I glanced at Megan. If she knew what that meant, she gave no reaction. Her face remained that perfect mask of composure.

“I do believe you are correct about that, Marla,” Tom said with a smile, which he turned on Megan. “Let us discuss our business, Caulborn Hayes. Then perhaps we may get to know one another better.” He turned to me as if I were an afterthought, “And you as well, of course, Caulborn Corinthos.”

Marla reseated herself next to Bruli, but didn’t take her eyes off Megan.

Over the next ten minutes, Megan and I gave them a quick rundown of the people that had disappeared. Bruli shook his head. “Aside from my own people, I have not heard of any of the community going missing. I will make some inquiries, though, and will send a message to the Galahad if I learn anything. Will that be sufficient?”

“Quite sufficient, Mr. Bruli,” Megan said, rising. “Caulborn Corinthos and I thank you for your time this evening.”

Bruli stood opposite to her and gave a short bow. “It was truly an honor, Caulborn Hayes.” He held up a hand. “While I wish for Caulborn Gomez's safe return, I would ask if we might have the pleasure of your company again some evening. It’s been some time since a woman of your particular caliber has graced this building.” The women on the couch tensed at this remark, and their eyes narrowed at Megan. I held the Urisk’s faith ready, just in case.

“Perhaps,” Megan said. “You must understand that my duties are my first priority, Mr. Bruli. Finding these missing individuals is my one and only goal at the moment.”

“My dear,” Tom said, “if you only focus on your duties, you will find that life will pass you by. You have many, many years ahead of you, and the weight of duty only gets heavier as the decades pass. Do remember to enjoy yourself from time to time. Pay an occasional visit to us, that’s all I ask. I’m sure we could learn much from one another.”

“That is a gracious offer, Mr. Bruli. I shall consider it. Thank you again for your time this evening.”

Tom nodded to us and showed us out of the office. Lucille took us down to the lobby where our weapons were returned to us. That done, Lucille walked us out of the building and back to the alleyway where we’d first met her. “Any idea what might have happened to your people?” I asked. “The ones who vanished?”

Lucille shook her head. “None. The Blood Runners have always been reckless, we figured they had something to do with it. Now that we know otherwise, though...” She sighed as she trailed off. I noticed she kept me between herself and Megan. It was like she was afraid of the other woman. That bothered me. Could it be possible that Megan really was Strigoi Viu? Lucille turned to me. “I trust you can make it back from here?”

“Yes, thank you for the escort, Lucille.”

She nodded to us and disappeared into the night. Megan and I strode to the Tercel. I was amazed at how poised Megan was as she moved. We got back into the car and shut the doors.

Megan started the car, placed her hands at a perfect ten and two position on the wheel, and drove for about two blocks before she pulled over again. Her knuckles were pure white. “Megan?” I asked.

“They scared me,” she whispered. “They’re so...wrong.” She turned to me, stark horror shining in those brilliant blue eyes. “They called me Strigoi Viu. What does that mean?”

Crap. “Well,” I began, “In Romania, they believed that someone born with a caul would rise as a vampire lord after they died, and would command armies of undead. Until you die, you are called Strigoi Viu, or living vampire.” Megan’s face paled even further and she brought a hand up to her mouth. “I wouldn’t worry about that, though,” I added. “As far as I know, none of the Caulborn have ever reanimated after they died.”

I could see that she was fighting to keep her composure. Way to put her mind at ease, Corinthos. “Don’t worry, Meg,” I said, taking one of her hands. “I was scared too when I learned about that particular legend. Then I did some research, talked to Galahad and a few other people, and found out that’s all it was—a legend. Caulborn have been active here in America for over four hundred years and there’s never been a single account of Strigoi Viu. It’s the same in all the other countries we have offices in. If you’d like, tomorrow I can point you at the places I learned from.” I’d mention this to Galahad in the morning. Better safe than sorry.

She nodded, a quick, jerky motion, and gave a nervous laugh. “I suppose it is pretty silly. Everyone knows vampires are made, not born.” She was trying to convince herself, I could tell. She took a deep breath and when she let it out, some of her composure returned. “Besides, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard of this legend. If it were true, it would be present in other forms in other cultures.” She nodded to herself again, the motion more natural this time.

“We’ve had a busy evening,” I said. “You up for a pint?”

She leaned her head against the headrest and let out a short laugh. “More than you can know.”

“Great. There’s a bar I know called the Seanake that’ll take care of us. And there’s a guy there who might know some things about the missing people.”

As Megan drove to the bar, we talked about what we’d learned. Bruli might not know what had happened to the abducted, but the vampires were losing their own and were on edge. That could turn into a clan war if left unchecked. We’d have to keep Galahad apprised of that. After about fifteen minutes, plus an extra ten circling the parking lot for a space, we walked into the Seanake.

The Seanake's a really old school Irish pub. They served Guinness just right, and there was live music every night. The great thing was the music was always traditional Irish drinking songs; no up and coming bands here, only guys who can sing Whiskey in the Jar and Seven Drunken Nights. I smiled as we entered the bar, which was about three quarters full. Three waitresses were scooting back and forth from the bar to the tables, trays loaded with beer and pub grub.

There was an empty table near the corner, about ten feet from both the bar and the band. That table was always empty, and even if the place was packed, no one would sit there. I took Megan over to the table and then walked up to the band, which had just finished one of the more off-color renditions of Wild Rover. I handed the band leader a twenty.

“Finnegan’s Wake,” I said. He nodded his thanks, pocketed the cash and I sat down at the table. A waitress came over and I ordered four pints of Guinness and a shot of Bushmills.

Megan cocked her head at me. “So where is this contact of yours?”

“He’ll be here shortly. Relax, enjoy the song.”

We listened to the band play. I sang along, as did most of the patrons and the staff. The song was about one Tim Finnegan, an Irish bricklayer who fell off a ladder and was presumed dead. The mourners at his wake gradually became rowdy and spilled whiskey on his corpse. This brought Tim back to life and he was most indignant that they thought he was dead and that they were spilling his whiskey.

Our waitress returned with the drinks as the band finished to a booming round of applause. I turned to the third chair at the table and found a pale, dark-haired man sitting with us. He whistled and hooted his appreciation of the music, then knocked back the shot of whiskey.

“Now, these lads know how to send a man off proper,” the newcomer said with a smile as he took one of the pints in front of him.

Megan jumped in her seat and I saw her reach under her coat.

“Easy, Megan. This is Tim Finnegan. He’s my contact here.”

She squinted at him. “He’s a ghost,” she said. There was both wonder and horror in her expression. I winced. Tim was pretty laid back as far as spirits go, but they typically didn’t like being reminded that they were dead.

Tim smiled. “This one’s as sharp as a pin, Vinnie,” he said to me. Then he paused. “You didn’t break up with Petra, did ya?”

“No, Tim, Megan is a business associate.”

His eyes twinkled as he looked at her. “If I’d had business associates with figures like that when I was carryin’ me hod, I’d never have gotten any work done.” Megan shifted in her seat and blushed.

“According to that song, you spent most of your time drunk, anyway,” she said.

He gave her an indignant look. “I do me best work when I’m drunk, thank you very much.” He turned back to me and spread his hands. “Now, what brings you to me tonight?”

I told him about the people who had gone missing. “It’s only paranormals, Tim. I was wondering if you’d heard anything from the spirit world.”

Tim rubbed his chin and stared into his Guinness for a few moments before he shook his head. “Nothing springs to mind.” He drained the rest of his pint and I passed him a second glass. “But I’ll keep me ears open.” He looked at me and the joviality left his face. “But Vinnie, vampires, werewolves and gremlins are all strong and resourceful. They’re the predators, not the prey. Whatever’s taking them is going to be bad. It might be dangerous even for someone like you. So be careful, lad.” His eyes sparkled again. “After all, not many people come in here and buy me pints anymore.”

“Can I get you anything else?” Our server, a perky young woman of about twenty-three, had materialized next to our table in that way only a waitress can and smiled at us.

“Thank you, we’re all set,” Megan said. Our waitress smiled again and left the bill. When we turned back to the table Tim was gone. When you’re a ghost, entrances and exits are always dramatic. I imagined the director’s notations for Tim’s comings and goings as, “Exit - Stage Immediately In Front of You.” Megan looked at the spot where he’d been sitting and then at me. I just shrugged.

“Is he reliable?” she asked.

I nodded. “If any one of the missing people dies, Tim will hear about it, and he’ll pass it on to us.”

She sipped her Guinness, then leaned back from the table, closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. “Today I found a woman whose brain was stolen, met a gremlin, several vampires, and a ghost.” She tipped her head to one side and opened her eyes. “And my new partner is a god.” Her dimple appeared. I started to say something when a crash, followed by a shattering of glass and a yelp of pain from our left took our attention. One of our fellow patrons had decided to do a jig on the table and had fallen off and broken his leg. Our waitress hollered for the bartender to call for an ambulance, and hastily set about making the man comfortable until the EMTs arrived.

Megan looked at me. “Could you heal him?”

I shook my head. “I can only do stuff like that for my followers.” Even if that guy decided to worship me, I wouldn't be able to do anything for him. That was the catch of being a half-deity; there was some rule out there that said you couldn’t have members of your own species as followers. That was why even though Hercules, Perseus and Achilles were half-gods, they were never able to tap their followers' faith to do anything miraculous.

“So are the Urisk your only followers?” Megan asked.

“Yes, and keeping them safe is tricky enough.”

“What about other creatures? Other fae, vampires, aliens? Would you be able to have them as worshippers?”

I shrugged. “I’ve never sought out other followers, but yeah, I guess that would work.”

“So you’re a god who runs on inhuman faith. And that faith lets you do whatever your followers can, as much and as often as you want?”

“Something like that,” I said. “Gods are like machines that run on faith instead of electricity. Each day when I listen to my followers’ prayers, it’s like recharging my batteries. The more I tap my followers’ faith for power, the faster those batteries drain.”

We chatted for a few minutes more while we finished our drinks, then we left the Seanake and she gave me a lift back to my apartment. “See you tomorrow, partner,” she said with a smile. She drove off and I headed inside. My apartment was number 314, and the previous tenant put a “.” between the 3 and the 1. So when I got home, I always thought of pi, and then of pie, which made me hungry.

I grabbed a quick snack, cleaned up, brushed my teeth and headed for the bedroom. My apartment isn’t huge, but it’s got enough room for Petra and me. I looked at the pictures of the two of us on the wall, and then at the calendar, which had the day after tomorrow circled in red. Inside the circle, the word ‘Home!’ was printed in Petra’s girly handwriting. The ‘o’ in ‘Home!’ was a happy face. God, I missed her.

I stretched out on the bed and closed my eyes. Fae wars, a de-brained woman, kidnapped paranormals and vampire attacks would be enough to give anyone nightmares.