Read The Nekropolis Archives Online

Authors: Tim Waggoner

Tags: #detective, #Matt Richter P.I., #Nekropolis Archives, #undead, #omnibus, #paranormal, #crime, #zombie, #3-in-1, #urban fantasy

The Nekropolis Archives (109 page)

BOOK: The Nekropolis Archives
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  "They do have something in common," I said after a moment's thought. "They're all powerful and highly skilled in their particular specialty, but not necessarily well known to the public at large."

  Varney had only listened up to this point, but now he said, "Why is that important?"

  "Because their disappearances would go unnoticed, at least for a while," I answered. "If any of the town's famous Arcane vanished, it would be big news, and Talaith and the Adjudicators would immediately begin scouring the city for them. But if lowerprofile magic-users vanished, the disappearances would have to mount up and a pattern would have to emerge before someone noticed and decided to do something about it."

  Devona picked up on my train of thought. "And that would give the kidnapper – or kidnappers – time."

  "Time to do what?" Bogdan asked.

  "Maybe time to falsify evidence implicating Varvara in the disappearances," I said. "Time enough to start a war between two Darklords."

  "Varvara could still be behind the disappearances," Bogdan said, but he sounded unsure.

  I shook my head. "Since when does Varvara do anything halfway? If she wanted to kidnap Arcane she'd select the most famous and powerful of them. If for no other reason than as a personal affront to Talaith."

  "You have a point," Bogdan conceded.

  "Did you learn anything else at
Overhexed
?" I asked.

  "No. After a while, Dr Bombay started telling some truly awful jokes, and I made my excuses and got the hell out of there. I stopped in at Nosferatomes and asked Orlock if he'd heard anything related to the disappearances. He's Bloodborn, but he carries a lot of magic books in his store, and he's pretty plugged in to what goes on the Arcane community. But he wasn't able to tell me anything."

  Devona and I exchanged looks. We knew from firsthand experience that Orlock was more than he seemed, though we'd never shared this knowledge with anyone else. Orlock knew that Bogdan worked with us, and if he'd had any information about the disappearances, he'd have given it to the warlock to pass along to us – for a price to be named later, of course. I was more than a bit glad Orlock hadn't known anything, though. Devona and I had owed him a favor, and repaying him had nearly caused us to miss our only opportunity to conceive our child… make that our children. Because of this, I wasn't eager to get mixed up with the ancient vampire again.

  "I decided to try
Magewrights' Manor
next," Bogdan said. "The club's quite exclusive, and I don't have a membership – though I've been on the waiting list for years," he hastened to add. "You know how much Talaith hates that some Arcane prefer the urban lifestyle of the Sprawl to the pastoral life in Glamere. Well,
Magewrights' Manor
is the most prominent symbol of that preference, and the magic-users that frequent the club have little love for Talaith. In order to belong, you have to be both powerful and well-connected socially, and having a certain amount of fame doesn't hurt either."

  A metaphorical light bulb went off over my Reptilikan-vomitscarred head. "Is that what attracted you to working for the Midnight Watch in the first place? Devona and I had just saved the city from being destroyed during the Renewal Ceremony, and if the Midnight Watch was successful, you hoped that some of our fame might rub off onto you."

  I could feel Devona's anger through our link, but Bogdan didn't seem upset in the slightest by my words.

  "That was one of the considerations," he admitted. "But there have been other benefits to working here." Bogdan pointedly avoided looking at Devona. He thought for a moment, then lowered his gaze to the floor and then gave what I thought was an almost embarrassed smile. "To be honest, it's nice to use my talents for something productive. It's funny. My specialty is conjuring useful objects, but before I started working here, I myself wasn't very useful. I hired myself out to wealthy, prominent people when I needed money, but the rest of the time I frittered away my life, moving from club to club, trying to make connections and ingratiate myself with the 'right' people, whoever they happened to be at any given moment, all to increase my own status. It was a very empty way to live, and I didn't even know it until I came here."

  I hate it when Bogdan gets sincere. It means I have to work twice as hard to dislike him.

  "So did you manage to get in?" I asked.

  He looked up and nodded. "On my way there, that strange reality distortion hit, where Nekropolis seemed to overlap with Earth for a short time. It was extremely disconcerting, more so for us Arcane I imagine, because we feel mystic energy in a way that most others do not. And that distortion felt deeply, profoundly wrong in a way I can't easily describe." He shuddered at the memory. "Anyway, when I arrived at the
Manor
and told the doorman why I'd come, I was immediately ushered in. The members had already been discussing the dispute between Talaith and Varvara when the reality distortion hit, and now they were furiously debating what and who had caused it and why. When they learned I was assisting you in investigating the disappearances of our people, they invited me to take part in their discussion."

  It was weird to think that my name had paved the way for Bogdan gaining admittance into a club he'd tried for so long to join. I know I've acquired a certain amount of fame over the years, but I don't take it seriously and try to ignore it. But I guess it can be a useful tool sometimes. If Bogdan resented the fact that it was my name that got him inside the
Manor
, he didn't show it.

  "Some of the most well-known Arcane in the city were there: Dr Faustus, Circe, Baron Samedi, Baba Yaga, Chandu, Marie Leveau, Cagliostro, Rasputin, Calypso, the Blair Witch… A veritable who's who! I learned that they'd all performed their own investigations into the disappearances, and not one of them had been able to find so much as a trace of the missing Arcane. It was as if they'd vanished completely from Nekropolis."

  Shamika had been silent since we'd returned to the Midnight Watch, but she now drew in a surprised breath. "I thought so!" she said.

  We all looked at her.

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  She looked extremely uncomfortable. "Just that since I couldn't find any trace of my uncle, I didn't think anyone else would either. That's all."

  Her words didn't quite ring true, but as with Varney, I decided now wasn't the time to push it. Shamika didn't say anything more, and after a moment, Devona spoke.

  "Tavi picked up Papa Chatha's scent trail and followed it, though. Surely magic-users as powerful as those in
Magewrights' Manor
wouldn't have failed to detect such a trace."

  "It does seem highly unlikely," Bogdan said, "but none of them said anything about scent trails while I was there."

  "Maybe the scent trail isn't important," Devona said. "It's possible Papa just happened to be visiting the Grotesquerie when he was abducted."

  "And then Titanus just happened to escape when Tavi followed Papa's trail there?" I said. "And on top of that, when we arrived to save Tavi, all the creatures in the Grotesquerie just happened to escape as well?"

  Devona smiled ruefully. "When you put it like that, it sounds like a trap."

  "Talaith saw you in Demons' Roost," Varney said. "And she's not exactly your biggest fan. Maybe she set the trap to get rid of you and strike a blow at Varvara in the process."

  "Maybe," I allowed. But that didn't feel right somehow. Talaith is more than devious enough to devise any number of traps, but somehow this just didn't seem like her style.

  Bogdan spoke then. "If Varvara didn't
abduct
the Arcane, then who did? Talaith herself?"

  "I doubt it," I said. "Like Varvara, she'd have struck a stronger opening blow if she wanted to start a war – a blow more fitting a Darklord."

  "Maybe war wasn't the point," Devona said. "Maybe abducting the magic-users was, and war was just a side-effect. Or–"

  "A distraction!" I finished.

  "From what?" Bogdan asked.

  "From whatever the kidnappers
really
want to do," I said. "And whatever it is, they need magic-users to do it."

  "Magic-users that for some reason they can't simply hire," Devona said, "and so they're forced to abduct them. I wonder…" She trailed off then, and her expression went blank. "I need to step outside for a moment."

  She rose from the couch, her movements somewhat stiff, and started walking out of the great room. The rest of us exchanged puzzled glances, except Shamika. She looked worried.

  "This isn't good," she whispered. Shamika sounded more than worried now; she sounded scared, and her tone prompted me to action.

  "Devona, wait!" I followed after her, but Varney was already ahead of me, and he trailed Devona down the hall toward the front door.

  "What's wrong?" he asked. "You're acting–"

  That's as far as Varney got before Devona spun around and shoved her hand toward him. She didn't connect with him physically, but I could feel the psychic force pouring off her in waves. Telekinetic energy slammed into Varney and threw him back against the wall. The Midnight Watch building is old and made almost entirely from stone, and Varney's skull made a sickening scrunch as it connected with the wall. His eye went wide as he hit, and he fell face-first when he rebounded, leaving a bloody smear where his head had struck the stone. I wasn't worried about Varney. He'd recover, but it would take him a few moments. In the meantime, I had to stop Devona.

  As soon as she saw Varney was no longer a problem, she turned around and headed for the front door again, not running, just walking with a slightly stiff-legged gait, as if she weren't entirely in control of her actions.

  Devona's psychic abilities had continued to grow in strength since we met, but I'd never seen her wield telekinesis to that degree. Whatever was happening with her, it had given her a power boost, and I knew I had to approach her cautiously. In my current condition, if she hit me with a blast of telekinesis as strong as the one she'd directed at Varney, I'd fly apart and this time I might not be able to put myself back together.

  I was tempted to try and reach out to Devona through our link. If she was trying to fight whatever was happening to her, she might still be herself inside her mind, and we might be able to connect psychically. On the other hand, if she
wasn't
still herself, she could send a flood of mental energy through our link and stun me – or worse, reduce my brain to tapioca. I decided to try another approach.

  "Whatever's happening, my love, you have to fight it – for the babies, if nothing else!"

  She didn't say anything, didn't turn around, didn't attack, but she didn't stop walking, either. I thought she might have hesitated for a second or two, but it might've been my imagination.

  We were almost to the door now, and while I had no idea what would happen when she went outside, I didn't think it was going to be good. I hated to do this, but I didn't see that I had any other choice.

  "Rover!" I called.

  An instant later a torrent of wind came rushing down the hallway toward us. Devona ignored it and reached out to take hold of the door knob.

  "Something's wrong with Devona, Rover! You have to stop her from leaving!"

  Rover is a living, sentient wardspell, but I wasn't sure exactly how intelligent he (or more accurately it) was. In the time since Devona had purchased the Midnight Watch building, we'd gotten to know Rover, and while I was certain he understood simple commands, I was afraid the complexity of the current situation would be beyond him. His mistress was simply trying to leave the building, and her partner was ordering Rover to prevent her from doing so. I wouldn't blame Rover for being confused – hell,
I
was confused, and I was right in the middle of the situation – and if it came down to a case of conflicting loyalties in Rover's mind, Devona versus Matt, I had no doubt who would win.

  But Rover must've understood the situation, or perhaps being a creature composed entirely of magic he was able to detect that something was wrong with Devona, for either way, he blew past me, surrounded Devona with a mini cyclone, and pulled her away from the door.

  For a moment I thought that would do it, and I began trying to think of a way to snap Devona out of the spell that was affecting her. But before I could come up with anything, she reached into one of her pockets and brought out a small metal charm. It was a simple thing, a coin-sized disk with a yin-yang symbol painted on it, but I'd seen her use it in her work, and I knew how potent it could be. A reverser is aptly named, for it reverses the effect of any magic it comes in contact with. A freeze spell can become a fire spell, a stasis spell can become a fast-motion spell,
et ceter
a.

  Devona flipped the reverser into the air, where Rover's cyclonic wind currents snatched it up and began spinning it around. It orbited Devona twice before it began to take effect. Rover's wind started to blow slower and with less force, and within seconds it dissipated to little more than a light breeze. Another second after that, and it was gone. The reverser plunked to the floor, and Devona left it where it lay, walking to the door once more, gripped the knob, turned it, pushed the door open, and stepped outside.

  I didn't know if the reverser had merely negated Rover's wind or if it had nullified the creature entirely, essentially killing him, but I didn't have time to worry about that right then. I still had to try and stop Devona.

  I followed her outside. She'd walked down the front steps and was standing motionless on the sidewalk, staring out into the street. I hurried down the steps toward her, doing my best not to lose control of my barely held together scarecrow body, when I saw something small and black scuttle out of the gutter and head toward her feet. It looked something like an oversized roach – thick carapace, six segmented legs, wiggling antennae – but I knew it was no Earthly insect. I'd seen it before, or rather, ones like it, but I thought I'd never see one again. But I had, hadn't I? And not that long ago. I'd seen one in Devona's room at the Fever House, and I'd seen others at the Grotesquerie, moving so swiftly that I'd hadn't been certain I'd seen anything at all. Those bugs belonged to only one being I knew of – actually
were
that being, in fact, for each insect was nothing but a tiny component of a single gigantic group mind.

BOOK: The Nekropolis Archives
10.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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