Demons are a Ghoul's Best Friend: Afterglow, Book 2 (22 page)

BOOK: Demons are a Ghoul's Best Friend: Afterglow, Book 2
3.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Pandora surprised them all with a spontaneous giggle. “You
shot
it?”

“Crude, but true. Right between its big googly eyes.” He winced. “It kinda fell apart on me. Very messy, but effective. If you look over there—” He lifted his chin toward several people in white overalls. “Those are forensic techs. I think they’re gathering up bits of what’s left.”

A medic came up, took a look at them all, shrugged when they waved him off, then passed Pandora a small plastic package before leaving. She gratefully slipped into the protective pants.

“Karl?” Cheney glanced at his partner.

Buck tapped his pocket. “Already got some samples for him.”

“Hell. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. We make a damn fine team, partner.” Cheney thumped Buck’s arm.

“No shit.” Buck thumped him back with a grin. He glanced at Pandora. “And for the record, Ms. Jackson, your arboreal skills are without equal.”

“Shoot, dude. You use big words like that and I’m gonna get a headache.” Cheney laughed, then looked at Pandora. “Mind you, he’s right. You saved my life, you know.”

She dismissed it. “Whatever. I’m just so grateful you two did what you do best. I wouldn’t be standing here if you guys hadn’t come galloping to the rescue.”

“We’re going to discuss that, you know. Running off and not telling me where you’re going…” Cheney’s brows drew together.

“Hey. Cut that out. Just because I love you doesn’t mean you get to call the shots about everything I do.”

Buck cleared his throat. “Guys, perhaps there’s a better place for this discussion?” It was a gentle but firm reminder that standing in the middle of total chaos wasn’t a good idea.

“He’s right. Let’s get out of here.” Cheney seconded the vote.

Outnumbered—and not really upset by it—Pandora permitted Cheney to lead her to the car without further protest. Something that pleased him enormously. Until he realized that she was probably saving it all up until later.

He sighed and hugged her. She was there beside him, her arm around his back. They’d probably fight like hell now and again, but it would all be worth it.

Yep, life was good.

Much later that night, they gathered around Cheney’s table. Buck, Lian, Cheney, Pandora and Karl, who they all felt needed to be included.

Pandora related everything she could remember, every detail, no matter how blurred. Sometime during her talk, her hand crept into Cheney’s, and she drew strength from the warmth of his clasp.

“So there it is. Victoria Larson was some kind of hybrid thing, a chimera, a mixture of ghoul, shape shifter, her grandfather’s brains—don’t ask me how that was done—and the woman who was outraged by the loss of so many scientists she considered brilliant.” She paused. “There was no conscience there at all. Not even a tiny bit of remorse for what they’d done. Just an overwhelming admiration for them.” She shuddered. “It was pretty foul. She was completely nuts.”

“That’s an understatement.” Cheney lifted an eyebrow. “I didn’t get a good look at what was in those jars, but from what I did see—well, no human being could have created those things. Not one with a soul, anyway.”

Karl sipped his beer. “Things like the Svengali Project take on a life of their own.” He sighed. “There will always be those who think it’s all about research for research’s sake and be damned to those who pay the price.”

They all absorbed the wisdom of that comment. Then Buck shrugged. “That sucks.”

“A surprisingly succinct comment, my friend.” Karl chuckled. “It does indeed suck.”

“So what happens now?” Lian leaned forward. “Can you establish a cross link to the basilisk killer based on what it told Pandora? Is there enough evidence left to tell us any more about the Larson creature?”

Buck blinked at his wife. “You want to know
more
?”

“Sure. It’s a fascinating case study. Something we’ve never run across before.” Lian met his look squarely. “Of course I’m interested.”

“You rock, babe.” Karl grinned at her. “How much evidence we’ll have, I don’t know. Your guys…” He waved his bottle at Buck and Cheney. “The forensics dudes…well, they’ll have plenty to play with for some time to come. I gotta thank you both for what you brought me, since I reckon I’ll have some playtime too. On a different level, of course.” He looked smug.

Pandora smiled at him. “And you’ll keep us informed of what you find, won’t you?”

“Sheesh. You have to ask?”

“I’m a lawyer, Karl. I know when someone’s lying.”

“I object.” Karl opened his eyes wide.

“Overruled.” She flashed back. “You promise to let us know what you find, okay?”

“Inasmuch as I think you’ll be able to understand, yeah.” He smirked. “Not that I want to imply you’re all dumb, but when it comes to recombinant genetic models, DNA mutation characteristics as referenced by single strand manipulations…well, hands up all those who’d know one if they found it in their breakfast cereal?”

There was laughter and not a single raised hand.

“Okay, dude. You made your point.” Cheney’s chuckle spoke for all of them.

Pandora yawned. “It’s hard to believe it’s done. And that it links back to a previous case involving the two of you. Odd kind of karmic circle.”

Lian nudged Buck and looked pointedly at Karl. “Time we got out of here, guys. These folks need some serious down time. And I want a word or two with you…” she nudged Buck, “…about this bad habit of yours. The one where I don’t get filled in on all the pertinent details.”

Buck stood and slipped on his jacket. “Yes, dear.”

Pandora wondered why Cheney made a whip-like noise and Buck flipped him the finger. Men. Strange creatures.

But at least Cheney was
her
strange creature. As he proved when the door closed behind their guests.

“Come here. There’s something I really need to do.”

She walked to him, only to find herself grabbed and pulled hard against his chest. She lifted her face, seeing his serious expression staring down at her. “I meant it, you know. I love you.”

He kissed her then, a long slow meeting of their lips and their tongues. She lifted her arms to tangle them around his neck, tugging him closer, moaning a little in the back of her throat as he sucked the breath from her body. Finally she peeled their mouths apart.

“I meant it too. I love you, Cheney Fisher.” She rested her head on his chest, listening to the regular thud of his heartbeat. “You heard me, didn’t you? Heard me scream in that place?”

“Yes.” He nodded, brushing the top of her head with his chin. “It wasn’t like hearing a noise. More like feeling the terror inside me. Inside that special AG spot, you know?”

“Strange stuff.” She snuggled closer.

“No kidding.” He sighed. “Come to bed with me, Pandora. I’m not sure if either of us are up to anything athletic, but I know I won’t get a wink of sleep unless you’re there beside me.” He switched out the lights as he pulled her toward the stairs. “Besides, I might have nightmares.”

She laughed. “More likely me when it comes to nightmares.” It was a casual comment, but Pandora had a sneaking feeling that she wouldn’t have too many nightmares if Cheney’s arms were around her, or his warm body comforting her as it spooned against her spine.

In no time at all they were naked and snuggled beneath the covers. In the darkness and comfortable silence, Pandora spoke.

“I nearly lost myself, Cheney.”

He was quiet for a moment, stroking his fingertips over her arm where it lay across his chest. “You scared me. Not just growing into that massive tree, but I could feel your—joy. Your pleasure in it. I was so afraid you wouldn’t come back to me.”

“It was hard. An experience like that…well, it defies description. Maybe it was because I’d held it all back for so long. Ignored it, suppressed it, whatever you want to call it. I’d turned my back on half of myself. If you hadn’t called me when you did, well who knows what might have happened. But I do know one thing.” She tapped his chest. “You helped me take the first steps toward understanding what I am, Cheney. If not for that, for you, I might not have been able to let go and become the one thing that saved us.”

“We’re both going to have to work on that.” Cheney’s voice was sober and thoughtful. “I’ve done the same thing, Pandora. I haven’t turned away from my gift, but I rarely use it in a way that could give me the kind of joy I felt from you.”

“I guess it’s all about coming to terms with who we are. Accepting it. Using our abilities to improve our lives, rather than sticking them in a box in the back of our closets.”

“Think we can do that?” He rested his cheek against her head.

“I think—I think that
together
we can do anything.” She smiled contentedly.

“I think you’re right.” He moved down a little, his arms sliding over her skin in a gentle sensuous caress. “Counselor?”

“Hmm?”

“I’d like to make a motion.” His hands wandered to deliciously sensitive places.

She moaned with delight. “Motion granted.”

Epilogue

The moon shyly peeked from behind its veil of clouds, illuminating a small figure who mounted the steps at the rear of an unobtrusive building in Chinatown. It patted the head of one of the two small Foo dog statues bracketing the entrance.

“Hey, Wilfred. Did I miss anything?”

The stone eyes lit up with a cheerful green glow as a hand rested, palm down, between the ears.

“Good to know. Keep up the good work.” Karl passed through the door, which had opened in response to his palm identification system. No need to jangle keys and wake anyone. He liked his privacy and wasn’t shy about using technology to serve his own needs as much as anyone else’s.

Making his way to the lab, his mind dwelt on the questions of the hour. How that monster had created a chimera that had survived for longer than five minutes. Then there was the question of how it had been controlled—how a mind-link could be established with a thing like that.

Karl was no Svengali. He asked for and received volunteers willing to spend an hour or so being poked and prodded or filling out surveys. Some were even hooked up to various calibration devices.

But no one was ever hurt, Karl paid them by the hour, and the results were always kept confidential.

It wasn’t so much the genetic component that fascinated him. Genetics seemed little more than elaborate mechanics and he had no desire to crossbreed a vampire with a unicorn or do anything else uselessly outrageous.

But the idea of telepathy, true telepathy between AGs? Well, now
that
was fascinating. Tracing the source of the ability, identifying which AG mutation possessed it, and figuring out how to make use out of it—all these things were of interest to Karl.

He was turning concepts over in his mind as he walked to some of his equipment and took a quick look at the data they were generating. Nothing there really surprised him. The numbers simply confirmed that Victoria Larson was part human female and part ghoul. Physically. There was a third source of DNA in what was left of its brain that shared enough genetic markers to be positively identified as blood kin—probably her grandfather.

Of course there were irregularities, but these would be followed up on by his equipment, not Karl himself. Once again he blessed his great-grandparents for amassing a fortune and his grandparents for enlarging it.

And once again he permitted himself a moment of self-disgust. For it was unknown to everyone except Karl that in his family tree was one relative who had worked for Prendergast Industries. A great-uncle who had seen the writing on the wall and managed to get out before the shit hit the proverbial fan. None of which was terrible.

But it was what he’d done afterward that made Karl sick. This man had sold some of the Prendergast experimental techniques for a considerably huge sum of money. Then vanished off the face of the earth without revealing the name of the buyer.

At the back of Karl’s mind was always the possibility that when
irregularities
occurred, like the basilisk killer and the ghoul-chimera, one of
his
relatives was to blame. That such an event signaled the use of that stolen Prendergast information. And that perhaps this would be his chance to trace the source and uncover the name of the buyer, which would lead him to whoever might be using it today.

He sighed. Didn’t look like it was going to happen this time around. But there was always tomorrow.

He glanced at the clock. He was restless, hungry, ready for company. And the night was young.

There was a neat apartment at the rear of the lab and as Karl reached his bedroom, he heaved a sigh and slipped from his small clothes. It wasn’t bad being a little person. Women were fascinated and men amused, but not threatened. All of which worked well for Karl in his professional life.

His personal life? Well that was something else. Like him, it was very private.

Nude, he stood before his mirror and closed his eyes, relieved that he could at last let go of this current body and shift back to his original shape.

The warmth of the change flooded his veins and he grunted as muscles stretched, connective tissue re-linked with itself and bones strengthened.

Mere moments passed before he opened his eyes—and looked at himself.

“Better.” He grinned.

The tall handsome man in the mirror grinned back. There was much to be said in favor of shape shifting. The biggest advantage? None of the women he slept with would ever find him the next day—unless he wanted them to.

Slipping into his jeans and black shirt, Karl left the trappings of science behind him and headed cheerfully out for his favorite club, secure in the knowledge that even his oldest friend Lian wouldn’t know him if she met him now.

His little alter ego was partly a joke Karl played on the world, partly a psychological experiment and partly a desire to keep his real identity close to his vest. He could get laid and produce elegant scientific data without any overlap between the two. It was just about perfect.

With a whistle on his lips and a carefree attitude, Karl strolled in to the Den of Iniquity, fielding greetings from friends, warm smiles from more than a few women and heading for the bar.

Other books

My Jim by Nancy Rawles
The Dawn of a Dream by Ann Shorey
Blood Storm by Colin Forbes
Absolute Pressure by Sigmund Brouwer
Shadow of Doom by John Creasey
Tressed to Kill by Lila Dare
Satisfaction by Marie Rochelle