Seven Kinds of Hell (11 page)

I spilled all the details I’d gleaned—however I’d noticed them—from my conversation with Dmitri. He nodded and went through one database, entering all the key words. Then he typed some more and I saw an FBI database come up.

“Whoa! You’re not supposed to be in there!”

“Nope. But a Cousin of ours is. And it’s a great catalog of bad guys.” Gerry kept typing, searching. Pictures began to flash across the screen, some of them mug shots. “It’s also how we found you. Once we heard rumors of a…that you were in the area, we made a call to our Cousin in the Federal BI, and we were able to find your phone and track that by GPS. We only managed to home in on you a few days ago.”

I thought about someone stalking me via my phone. It gave me the creeps. “Above the law,” “vigilante,” and “gang” were words my mother had used more than once to describe my father’s people.
I wasn’t sure what to think; the Steubens were definitely dangerous. Clearly I was like them. I still couldn’t reconcile what I was learning about them with what I’d been raised to believe. And they didn’t seem the same as the other Fangborn following me.

The computer had paused in its flickering. “What do you have there?”

“List of possible ‘Dmitris.’ All have associations with antiquities theft or smuggling, all have the characteristics you described…Uh-oh. I don’t think this one is a coincidence. Dmitri Alexandrovich Parshin.”

Claudia made a small noise in her throat. Her eyes narrowed. “I thought he was in prison?”

“Not anymore.” Gerry turned to me. “He’s kind of obsessed with the Fangborn, werewolves, especially. He’s made a living—after dealing in antiquities and illegal arms—of hunting us down and torturing us. I know of at least three stories of him killing vampires, slowly, over days, depriving them of sunlight, injecting them with vile things like a distillation of black hellebore, which really weakens us Fangborn.”

I swallowed. “And now he thinks I’m one? Why take Danny, then?”

“I don’t think he’s hunting you because you’re Fangborn. If we only discovered you, chances are he doesn’t know, and if you’re lucky, he’ll never find out. I think it’s really the artifacts, just as he said.”

“But why? Why does he hate you—us—Fangborn so much?”

“It’s not that he hates us. He wants to
become
us. He still thinks we can turn him, but we’re born, not made.” Gerry ran his hand through his hair, frowning. “And I think he believes the artifacts you have will make him a werewolf.”

“Wait, you just said we were born.” So maybe I couldn’t have turned Sean by biting him. “If we’re born this way, how can these artifacts make him—?”

“They can’t,” Gerry said. “Reason’s not Dmitri’s strong point, if this is our guy. The files we have about him, his family history, tell us he’s obsessed with the mistaken idea he’s descended from werewolves—”

“We’ll discuss it in the car.” Claudia reappeared suddenly; I hadn’t even seen her leave the room. “Zoe, do you need anything else besides what I found in the guest room? Do you need to go somewhere to get the figurine?”

I hadn’t even had time to unpack since I’d arrived at Danny’s. I’d made sure the figurine was in the bottom of my bag, made sure my passport was where I put it when I left Salem. “No. I’m good.”

She threw a bag to Sean, who had dozed off. “We’re heading to the airport, Sean. I’m glad we had a chance to meet you. Time for you to go home.”

“I’m coming.”

“You got your passport on you?” I piped up.

“Go out partying in Boston on Friday night, wake up Tuesday in Cabo, you learn to take precautions,” he said.

“You can afford to leave your job?” I demanded. “I doubt it. And those guys who broke into your place in Boston, they won’t
bother you anymore.” I didn’t want to drag Sean into this. I didn’t want him to find out that I was a monster. I didn’t want to worry about him while I tried to save Danny’s life.

But the selfish part of me didn’t want to leave him behind. He was the last shred of normal I could call my own.

Besides, as long as Claudia was with me, she could keep rearranging Sean’s world to a reality where I wasn’t a werewolf. However imaginary or chemically induced that world was, I wanted to hang on to it.

In the car, however, nerves overtook me. I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d be better off without the Steubens. They were exactly what Ma had warned me about. They were clearly adept at manipulation, and I’d known them, under adverse circumstances, for less than a day. A day during which I’d been threatened and my cousin had been kidnapped, his blood spilled.

But they were helping me so far, and they weren’t telling me I was crazy.

Claudia drove her BMW like someone used to getting where she needed to go, fast and without getting caught. Gerry sat with a notebook computer, working on the files he’d acquired at Danny’s place. Sean sat up front, asleep, at Claudia’s suggestion. He’d always called shotgun for as long as I’d known him. Didn’t matter that he was almost thirty.

“So, how could Dmitri kill Fangborn? Aren’t you guys pretty much impervious?” It was only then it clicked for me: Claudia hadn’t been affected by daylight. If anything, her color had improved since we left the apartment. And didn’t she say Dmitri tortured vampires by keeping them in the dark? Not even what I knew from fiction was accurate.

“We’re not immortal, just long lived. Hard to kill and quick to heal,” Claudia said. “Forget what you know about a stake through the heart—it
would
kill me, but the same as any massive trauma. But holy water, crucifixes—” She touched the little gold cross at
her throat. “Not a problem. Plus, it would make going to Mass awkward. But with the call to Change, we know there’s trouble brewing and we are compelled to help prevent it, if we possibly can. We’re strong in human form, but much more powerful half-Changed, or in fur- or scaleself.”

“Yeah, but you kill people.” I’d blurted it out before thinking, then decided it needed to be said. “I know you said, and the other guys said, you’re trying to protect humans, fighting evil. But…there is such a thing as due process. How do you know it’s justified? You guys are never wrong?”

“Never,” Gerry said firmly. “We’ve never been mistaken in identifying predators. Fangborn aren’t capable of true evil. And no Fangborn has ever killed another Fangborn.”

Logic and suspicion made me wonder how that could possibly be true. His statement certainly told me a lot about Gerry, though. “How do you know?” I asked carefully.

“Our history.”

“History isn’t a perfect record,” I said. “I can tell you that, as an almost-professional.”

Claudia stepped in. “I had similar questions when I was younger. I finally decided the world was better because of us, because of our actions.”

I felt as if I was treading in the dangerous territory of faith or religion; time to change the subject. “How was it Dmitri was able to kill so many Fangborn?”

“From the autopsies we performed, we learned he’s aware of some of the chemicals that will weaken or disable us, like the black hellebore we mentioned. It worries me, because he seems to know so much about us. That’s one of our most carefully guarded secrets.” She clutched the wheel. “I hate to think how he got that information.”

“When we get to the airport,” Gerry said, shutting down his computer, “I’ll send this to your phone, not the one Dmitri left for you.”

“What are the numbers for your phones?” Claudia asked.

I recited my number, then read off the new one to Gerry, who entered them. “How about yours?” I wasn’t about to let them off the hook for their contact information. “Quid pro quo, Dr. Steuben.”

Gerry snorted a laugh—Claudia wasn’t much like Hannibal Lecter—then rattled off the numbers for his phone and Claudia’s. OK, so I didn’t trust him, not entirely, but he seemed…OK. Hard not to start liking a guy who laughed at your lame jokes.

The next few moments were filled with plans for how we’d travel. Somehow there had been no question they would try to go with me, and I was steadily more impressed with the idea that there was more going on than just me and Danny. I already had my ticket and I was going to use it. I stopped by the ATM to get as much cash as I could, this last time; maybe, if Dmitri was capable of tracking me, having even a little currency might help if I needed to get off the radar for any reason.

Claudia and Gerry would buy their own tickets. Dmitri didn’t know them, and as long as they were helping, I was resigned. Sean, determined to follow me, would buy one, too.

“It’s probably OK for him to come with me,” I said. “If they know so much about me, they know he’s with me, that he’d come even if I asked him not to.” I looked hopeful at that last comment, but Sean shook his head.

“I’m coming. You can’t stop me.”

But the ticket counter could.

The flight to London was sold out; even Claudia’s persuasive inquiries couldn’t get seats on a plane that was full. Not even first class, where, I was surprised to find, I was seated.

“Probably the better to observe you, if he has someone following you,” Gerry said, handing his sister his passport. “I’ll be over at the coffee shop over there, the table out front—next to the bar? Claudia will get the tickets. There’s Wi-Fi, and I’ll send the rest of the files to you.”

Inquiries at the counter and we had a last minute plan: the flight for Berlin via Munich left shortly after mine. There were seats and they booked three tickets. We’d arrange to meet up in central London as soon as everyone landed, and pray it wasn’t too late to find some kind of plan that would give us an edge over Dmitri.

I glanced at my watch. About a half hour before the flight boarded. We joined Gerry, sitting at one of the tables just outside the coffee shop. He held up a finger: he was almost done.

Sean glanced out toward the concourse. His face froze. I saw something go dead behind his eyes, then light up again, as if he’d been rebooted. “Zoe, the muggers! From the construction site!”

“Get to the gate,” Claudia said as she rose. She looked for all the world like someone whose flight had been called, purposeful but unhurried. “We’ll deal with this.”

“The Wi-Fi cut out, damn it,” Gerry said. “Don’t wait; I’ll e-mail you the rest of the files, what we have on Parshin. You’ll have them by the time you land.”

Nothing else mattered but getting on that plane and saving Danny.

The sight of the team of other Fangborn coming toward us decided it. I turned and legged it for the security line.

And stopped dead. A moment before, the line had been nonexistent. Now several groups converged on it. They were moving, but far too slowly for me to avoid the other Fangborn.

I didn’t think the Fangborn wanted to draw attention to themselves—not with their secrets—but neither could I afford the attention, not with what was in the bottom of my bag. I didn’t want them to get too close; I remembered the snake-man at the construction site uncomfortably. And now there were enough of them to “suggest” I get out of line and go with them.

I glanced around, as casually as I could, and saw Claudia approach them. Gerry was still in the coffee shop, trying to get the files sent to me.

The group of six Fangborn split up. Three stayed with Claudia and three came toward me.

I turned, trying not to think about what would happen when they caught up with me. If I stepped out of line, they’d catch me. If I didn’t, and a ruckus ensued within sight of security, chances were almost nil I’d be allowed on the plane. I had to make that flight; Danny’s life depended on it, it seemed.

I closed the minuscule gap between me and the family of six ahead, four little girls with their pink Hannah Montana backpacks. I checked my watch. Twenty minutes till the flight boarded.

The line stalled as the little girls struggled to get out of their backpacks. The other line was no better, a group of traveling seniors who weren’t up to speed on their liquids allowance, every other one of whom had a pacemaker or a metal prosthetic. The third line was looking likely until a sizable flight crew, wearing uniforms identical to the woman who’d checked me in, cut ahead of the two business travelers. I realized with a start that they were probably staffing my flight, now just minutes from boarding.

A gasp behind me, followed by a shout.

Don’t turn around, Zoe,
I told myself.
It doesn’t have anything to do with you.

A shove, and I swung around, ready to demand to know what was going on.

The guy behind me held up his hands. “Sorry—there’s some maniac back there.”

Maniac
sounded oddly familiar.

I nodded and glanced around with an awful feeling that I knew what I’d see.

The coffee shop had seating adjacent to the bar on the concourse floor, separated by only a railing. Sean had reached over the railing and grabbed a beer from someone sitting there; the owner objected. The Fangborn following me also objected as Sean careened right into them. The beer he was holding crashed to the
floor, foam and glass splashing them all. He slammed into one of them and grabbed at the ones on either side of him.

The Fangborn tried to shove past Sean, the most inconvenient human speed bump ever. He staggered into them, clutching their clothing to hold himself up.

True to Claudia’s suggestion, Sean was helping me make my flight.

TSA guards emerged, then the state police. I saw Gerry join the fray, acting as if he was trying to separate the struggling parties, but in actuality, he was slowing the other Fangborn down even more. At the sight of the cops, all but two of the Fangborn melted away as fast as they could.

No one was going to be bothered with me when they had angry cops asking questions. I turned; the Hannah Montanans finally collected their belongings, tied their shoes, and moved on. They left, a pink comet tail vanishing, the security gate suddenly duller.

I dumped my bag onto the conveyor belt, took off my shoes, and handed my ticket and passport to the TSA guy. “I’m tired just watching them,” I said, gesturing to the pink posse as they headed for their gate.

“It’s gonna be a long flight for Mom and Dad,” he agreed. He nodded me through, and I waited on the other side of the body scan. My bag rode out of the scanner, then paused.