The Blood Eagle in the Big Easy (14 page)

Galvez nodded. “All per your instructions. Nothing has been overlooked.”

She eyed him closely. “You had better be right or I will make you suffer.”

Galvez shook uncontrollably with fear. “I am but a servant my mistress. I live and die by your command.”

She smiled once more. “I am out of time. Lift the child to my mouth and hold her till it is done.”

Galvez stood and carried the screaming child to her doom. As Gullveig opened her mouth a darkness escaped her lips. The black spirit circled the room and howled as it dove for the child and then silence ensued. The little girls blue eyes turned black and her screaming and tears just stopped. There was no more of the little girl left within her, only Gullveig survived. Galvez shuddered before carrying the child out to the others.

I felt sick as the memory faded only to have a new one take its place. In this memory Galvez was looking in a mirror as he drew the scalpel across his lower abdominal muscles. He winced as the local anesthetic hadn’t yet taken total effect. Once done he put the scalpel aside and retrieved a set of forceps and much to my displeasure prodded around in the wound for something. I heard a click of metal against metal and he pulled slowly the forceps out as blood and tissue came out along with a small rod of silver. After dropping the metal into a waiting dish he turned his attention to the open wound, carefully sewing it closed before standing up. He picked up the dish containing the metal rod and carried it across the room where he thoroughly cleaned both. Upon closer inspection it wasn’t a silver rod at all but what appeared to be a human knuckle, possibly from an index finger, plated in silver. I was beginning to understand.

‘Now you’re getting it.’ Galvez laughed.

‘That’s part of her cane?’ I asked.

‘Yes it is. We all had a piece of it sewn into our flesh. It was what gave us our extraordinary abilities. It’s those missing pieces that she is searching for now.’ He laughed again. ‘If she completes the set, everyone dies. I implanted my son with the piece she gave me.’

‘Why would she give them to you in the first place if she needed them?’ I asked.

‘To make her the glorious vessel that you nearly destroyed.’ He spat. ‘Enough!’

I still didn’t understand, but before I could ask any questions a new memory came in focus of a young dark haired boy with bright eyes. Galvez stroked the boy's head gently and lovingly.

‘He is my son. The best of me and you must save him! His name is Owen Boudreaux. He was never a part of this. If you can save him and remove the silver digit from his body you just might survive this. Today I will die a conflicted man but it is a small price to pay if you save my son.”

“Galvez I would have to guess that this is probably the only good thing you have done in your entire life. You can die knowing that your son might make it through this alive, our differences be damned.” Suddenly I was jolted back to reality as Galvez released his hold on me, and I saw him fall back to earth with a thud. The others hadn’t even had time to move. I now understand where the saying “Just before you die your life flashes before your eyes” comes from.

As I stood up Gregory was the first to reach us. He knelt down and grabbed Galvez’s wrist, looking for a pulse. “Did he say anything important?”

“Many things actually.” As hard as it was for me to admit, sadness for the man crept into my heart, for even a monster such as this could feel love for a child. “For starters he told me there is another man here in town that Gullveig is trying to find.”

Gregory looked at me questioningly. “No chance for a name is there? I mean I wasn’t that far away. He couldn’t have said that much.”

“The one other thing he told me was that from the beginning Helena had been a part of the whole thing. She was one of the five cult members we missed that day twenty years ago.” I seethed as the anger replaced the sadness. “We were duped! We were so very wrong.” I growled. “The sickest part of this whole thing is that Gullveig is Helena’s daughter and Nicholas’s fraternal triplet.”

Gregory staggered back as if he had been punched in the face. “Are you sure?” He stammered. “He could have been lying.”I turned and walked away as the SOG and their forensics team took over the crime scene. Gregory was quick to follow. “You can’t be serious about this can you?” Gregory asked.

“I wish I weren’t.” I whispered.

Gregory studied me. “Viktor are you alright?”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

As I was explaining everything to Gregory I thought it best to leave out the whole otherworldly possession part of the scenario. He was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around the entirety of the situation. Gullveig could jump from body to body, and if she assembled her magic disco stick she would have enough power to split the world in two. As a side note and one I barely find worth mentioning, she was brutally murdering her old followers.

“We need to clean this up and quickly.” Gregory stated, finally breaking the silence as he started pacing.

“Agreed.” I replied.

“Do we have any idea’s where to start?” Gregory asked.

I nodded slowly. “Actually, I believe I do but I need to run down a few leads before I can be sure.” I paused for a moment as I thought of something that would keep Gregory occupied while I took care of an errand. “I need you to piece together Helena’s movements in the months before she left Alabama. I got a feeling we won’t like what we find.”

Gregory nodded. “I will have the SOG ready to go as soon as we come up with a new lead. I still can’t believe that Helena was a part of that whole mess. She seemed so innocent and I just can’t get my head around it.”

“We were both played for the fool, though it would seem that her past caught up to her. I believe that there is a reason that all of this is happening now. It just doesn’t make any sense that Gullveig would wait all this time without a damn good reason.”

Gregory shook his head. “You got me. Look, I got to handle this immediate situation here and try to keep it out of the papers. Go home take a shower maybe get an hour or two of sleep and let’s meet up this afternoon and compare notes.”

“Thanks. You should try and get some sleep as well.” My stomach growled. “I suppose a bit of food wouldn’t hurt either one of us.”

Gregory laughed. “You are always worried about that stomach of yours.”

I shrugged. “I’m a growing boy.”

Gregory chuckled as he walked back to the CSI unit. I motioned for Kira and the others to follow me, and it wasn’t long before she fell in step beside me. “Something's afoot isn’t it?”

“We will talk about it when we get back to the office. I have an important package for you to pick up for me.”

“Really? Errands at this hour and with all this going on?” Kira said flustered.

“Does it help that I am giving you two strike teams to pick up the package for me?” I asked, amused at her annoyance but also a little pissed at her tone.

That brought a smile to her face. “Oh really? Two strike teams does sound interesting.”

I stopped and turned as I gave her a hard look. “You are to use any means necessary to acquire this package for me and if anything gets in your way during your retrieval kill it. Don’t hesitate, just get me that package! Am I clear?”

I had not meant to be so forceful and it wiped the smile off her face. “I understand. Should I call mother in to assist?”

“Not yet but if it comes down to it then call her and do whatever it takes, but get the package to me as fast as possible.”

Kira responded “Of course.”

Once we got back to work we went up to my office where I wrote down the information she needed. I had given her Owen’s name and general location, reminding her how dangerous this was and suggested she could call her mother to join her if felt like she needed the company. Any fallout over this I would handle at a later time. For now I knew that our very lives hung in the balance with the recovery a single twenty nine year old manling. God what a nightmare!

In the solace of my office I took the time to sift through the memories Galvez had shared with me. As I paced the length of my office my boots kept cadence with some long forgotten tune. The third man with the scar across his left cheek looked familiar yet I was having trouble placing him. I don’t know about you but I eat when I’m stressed. Opening the fridge I nearly dropped my water when I finally realized where I knew the slimeball. The third man in Galvez’s memory was someone I’d met in passing. The scar had muted with age but his other features remained much the same.

He was an antiques dealer on Royal in the French Quarter. A few months back I was shopping for an antique secretary desk when I stumbled across a particularly odd little shop. It stuck out in my memory because the proprietor gave off an odd vibe, even for the eclectic group of shop owners who reside in the Quarter.

Something about the place sent shivers up my spine and with my years of experience that reaction in me takes a special kind of deranged psychopath. Pulling my phone out I opened the notepad where I kept track of things that while not immediately important might be worth checking on in the future. The first few pages were full of rumors of dark magic on the outskirts of the Quarter and a couple of missing persons alerts. On page three hit pay dirt ‘Curious George’s Antiques and Unusual Memorabilia’ Royal Street and I marked it with three stars.

I know what you’re thinking. Men are supposed to have a little black book filled with women's names with a rating system and not some list of strange places and missing people. I suppose this could look odd in a very bad way for me if it fell into the wrong hands. The store owner came off as aggressive and rude which didn’t surprise me given its location, but it was something about his demeanor that sent up red flags. I remember receiving a call on my cellphone and leaving the store, relegating him to the back burner. Today was a good day to revisit that situation, and it was well past time that we had a talk about his activities both past and present. I kind of doubt he will have a future.

Calmness finally set in. I stopped pacing and sat down in my overstuffed leather chair, allowing myself to get comfortable. A little too comfortable actually. It was already two thirty in the morning and if I hurried I could clean up and pay Creepy George a visit before dawn. For a moment the thought of getting some much needed rest was tempting, but the clock was ticking and the longer I waited the more likely Mr. Creepy would vanish, leaving me completely in the dark. He and I were long overdue for an in depth conversation, and by conversation I meant putting a bullet in his skull, after I got the information I needed of course.

Pushing myself out of the chair I quickly crossed the room to the solid oak door leading into my private oversized bath. I normally don’t indulge myself, but this was an exception. The far corner of the bathroom was tiled floor to ceiling and enclosed by two huge sections of tempered safety glass. It was more of a sauna than a shower, with jets all around the ceiling and walls. Long tiled benches ran the length of each wall. On most days I would sit as the hot water poured over me, mentally reviewing my day but today I didn’t have that type of time. As the shower warmed up I grabbed a change of clothes.

As I showered as I stood there letting the water cascade over me as it washed away the harsh reality of the day. It was hardly the first time I had seen a dead body, and honestly I had created more than few over the years. But something about this case haunted me. Something told me I should recognize Gullveig’s handiwork, I just couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was that bothered me.

Faded memories drifted through the furthest edges of my mind, dark highlighted by different shades of gray like a sound muffled through a windtunnel. There were intense memories there if only I could remember them. I could only hope that the shadows that haunted the dark recesses of my mind would eventually make themselves known.

Gullveig clearly enjoyed torturing her victims before they died. She relished in the art of delivering pain, suffering and finally death to her victims. While Helena and Galvez were far from decent people I wouldn’t have wished either of their deaths upon them. Both of them tried to escape who they’d become for the betterment and survival of their children. That thought brought me comfort as it reassured me I hadn’t lost my mind or my humanity. They hadn’t deserved to die such cruel deaths, no one did. It was who she was though! If history has taught me nothing else, it’s that man as a species has made brutality an artform, and Gullveig was the Michelangelo and the Leonardo da Vinci of death.

Thoughts rolled over me as the warmth of the water sank into my flesh as I kept an eye on the clock. Five of the fifteen minutes that I allowed myself to shower had passed already. I thought about how Gullveig was a body jumper and, if Galvez’s memory was true an ancient one. Since she was a being of spirit she could jump from one body to the next without hesitation. It made me wonder why she needed the body of a newborn, and what was her motivation? What was the purpose of inhabiting an infant? She would be at the mercy of others until she was old enough to tend to her own needs. I couldn’t believe she would risk such a thing unless she gained some special benefit from the process, and in all my years I’d never heard of such a boon. Even among her own kind inhabiting a child was always a last resort to ensure their survival as their bodies were ill equipped to handle their spirit form for long. Since jumpers were unable to live more than a few hours without a host I was truly perplexed that she’d chosen an infant and even more surprised that the child had survived so long.