The Tenth Legion (Book 6, Progeny of Evolution) (3 page)

Marta Brown
met them at the door. Dressed in a tight medical jumpsuit, she
caught Mike’s lascivious, roving eye—the probable reason why he’d
been married and divorced three times.

Marta stopped
about halfway down a steel wall of slide trays. “They’re here,” she
said, pulling out the first one out to reveal a sheet-covered
bundle. Lorna shivered in the cold room, and pulled the cover
back.

Death and
mutilation never affect The Others, but even hard-boiled old
shamuses such as Mike need a moment when confronted by what is
spread before them. According to the photographs sitting on Lorna’s
desk, the remains looked a lot better now than at the crime scene.
It never ceased to amaze what a thorough wash down could do. Still,
showing a tint of green, Mike swallowed hard.

Morgue
personnel aren’t naturally impervious to gory death scenes, but
those who don’t acclimate meet quick career ends. “This is the
mother,” Marta explained with the tone of a library tour guide.
“See here.” She placed a gloved finger at a nasty, jagged wound.
“These are teeth marks. Old lycans and vampires have a word for
this kind of kill, a Blooding. It’s how they killed before the
drugs and Kutzu.”

Lorna’s brow
knitted. “Isn’t there a missing child?”

“That’s right.
A boy, about fifteen. The rest were butchered, but he simply
disappeared.”

“Fifteen, did
you say?” Lorna wondered aloud. “Is there anything to suggest they
might be one of The Others? Or the boy, at least?”

“The quickest
way to find out is to get records from Coven International. They
have what we need, even on most of the ferals. Otherwise, we’ll
have to wait until DNA comes back. It might take a month,” Mike
said. Then he asked, “Detective Winters, do you have any pull with
CI?”

Since the
demonstration with the gaphead, Lorna figured there was no value in
keeping her secret. “What Mike is trying to say is I’m a lycan.”
She waited for Marta’s surprise to subside. “But in answer to his
suggestion, I won’t be much help. My grandparents cashed in their
shares just in time to lose it all in the Panic of 2045. The
Winters clan has been on the outside ever since. It’s going to be
up to a sympathetic judge to subpoena the records we need.” Then
she remembered friend with benefits Jerry Pease. His law firm,
Brown and Willis, did a lot of work for the corporation. “Wait,
there is someone. He might be able to help cut through some of the
red tape.”

“This is the
second family attacked in a month,” Mike said on the way back to
the squad room. Lorna’s heels made clear, authoritative clicks on
the terrazzo, while Mike’s slow, arthritic slide just cleared the
floor. “They took someone from that one, too, right?”

“Yes, the
mother. She turned up a few days later in a field. They drained her
and ate the liver and kidneys.” After a pause, she added, “They ate
the lungs and uterus, too. There’s not much appetite for
those.”

After a few
seconds accompanied by twenty yards of silence, Mike turned his
head to Lorna. “Marta mentioned something called Kutzu. I never
heard of it. What is it?”

Lorna stopped,
turning to face him. “Really? Where’ve you been for the past two
hundred years?”

Mike’s
jowls tightened, his voice taking on an edge. “Well, excuse the
hell out of me, but I let my subscription to
The Others Newsletter
lapse.”

Lorna decided
she had it coming. “You’re right,” she said. “It’s a fair question.
Early in the twentieth century, a vampire named Anton Kutzu
invented the Kutzu Method. It seems they, meaning vampires, produce
small amounts of it in their saliva. It’s a powerful sedative. He
developed compounds that stimulated production in useful
quantities. It kept prey in a deep coma. Each feeding reinforces
the Kutzu, maintaining the coma. A single prey lasted almost a
year. The need to hunt, as well as the chances of discovery,
dropped by ninety percent. The Kutzu Method became the preferred
method, until the invention of supplements in the twenty-first
century offered us a chance to abandon humans altogether, opening
the way for the Coming Out.

“So Kutzu was
the vampire equivalent to the drugs lycans used to immobilize
prey?”

“Correcto,
Mikey, me boy. The drugs, along with freezers, gave us a similar
shelf life for prey. I remember Grandma’s stories about how they
lured prey to the house and gave the drug in a cup of tea. Lycans
recognized engaging them in sex as the quickest way to make it
work. After a good screwing, the prey went to sleep and never woke
up. An hour later, they had the victim cut up and in the freezer.
This all happened before my time. I’ve never eaten human
prey—nothing but treated mutton or beef.”

“Are your
grandparents still alive?”

“Gran is. She
has at least a century left. My parents are a different story. They
were hybrids. They lived only human life spans.”

“In the
thirty-odd years we’ve known each other, you’ve never spoken about
your family.”

“I have my
reasons.” She bit off each word and retreated inward. The abrupt
change in her demeanor made both of them uneasy. They continued
back to the squad room in silence. After a bit, she decided the
checkered relationship with her mom and dad shouldn’t be put on
Mike. He’d asked an innocent question, not knowing it would place
him in the middle of her personal minefield. She gave him the
shortest answer she could.

“My parents
are gone. Gran lives on one of the Martian colonies.”

CHAPTER TWO

“
T
hat’s right.
Pease—Jerry Pease.” Lorna spoke into the telephone receiver,
enunciating each syllable for the benefit of the lard head on the
other end. “He should be at Center Court. I must speak with him.
It’s a police matter.”

At this time
of the morning on a day off, if they weren’t together, it meant
tennis at the recreation center in his development. After a pause,
the receiver made a sound like someone breathing across it. Then a
voice came on the line. “Jerry Pease.”

“Hi, Jerry,
it’s Lorna. I need to see you right away.”

“Mmm, it’s the
best offer I’ve had all day. Your place or mine?”

His apartment,
larger than hers, occupied a better part of town. It also rated
better Utility Allowances. “I’m serious. It’s police work. Can you
come to my office?”

“Give me an
hour.”

Almost exactly
one hour later, the elevator door opened, and Jerry, escorted by a
volunteer auxiliary, presented himself to the squad room. The two
of them walked between the rows of desks under the appraising
stares of every stripe of cop. When it became apparent they were
headed to Lorna’s office, Mike rendered his opinion of the natty
guest. From his place near the elevator, he sat erect so she
couldn’t miss him sticking a finger down his throat, adding with
appropriate melodramatic touches a cross-eyed impression of
inducing a vomit. Lorna scowled, discreetly flipping him the
finger.

No one ignored
Jerry’s arrival. The men frowned while the women admired. At a
well-constructed five-ten, he glided between the desk rows with an
easy, confident stride. Corporate law paid well enough for him to
afford a tailored suit let out and drawn in at all the right
places. Wide shoulders, narrow waist, round, malleable butt. She
alone possessed firsthand knowledge about the malleable part.

When the
volunteer escorted him down the aisle, she wore the rapt expression
of a bride who’s just said, “I do,” poised in anticipation of the
fun part of the marriage business. A couple of female detectives
cocked their heads into the aisle to get a better view, jerking
back when Lorna’s baleful countenance stared back.

“Thank you,”
she said, dismissing the escort and offering Jerry a seat.

Across the
room, Mike fidgeted in his chair, as if itching to be invited to
the meeting. Lorna decided putting together a current with a former
lover would create too much distraction from the task at hand. Add
Mike’s predilection for making what could charitably be called
inappropriate remarks, and the situation elevated to the volatility
of mixing sulphuric acid and gunpowder. No. For now, Mike stayed
out. She closed the door, flashing him a sweet smile.

Now the
sandy-haired Jerry sat in her office, under her pleasant, level
gaze, presenting a face of sculpted features, as if for her
inspection. From his personal aromas, she sensed a moderate state
of sexual arousal. The gray suit made his eyes seem as dark-blue as
deep ocean water. Lorna’s breath came in quick pulls of air, and
her nipples hardened. For an insane moment, she debated drawing the
blinds so she could have him on the desk top.

“So, Lorna,
you called the meeting. What’s up,” he asked, breaking the
spell.

Relaxing, she
returned full weight to the chair, feeling uncomfortable moisture
down below. Taking a breath, she asked, “How much work does your
firm do with Coven International?”

“CI is one of
our largest clients. We help them with damage suits, property
recovery, tracking members. That sort of thing. Why?”

“Do you know
anyone important there?”

“Because their
corporate headquarters are located in Orlando, I’ve had the honor
of meeting several of the board members.”

“Are you on
familiar enough terms to get me and in to speak with one of
them?”

“Lorna, I
trust and love you, but there are issues of confidentiality
involved. I can’t give you a blanket answer without knowing
something about what you’re after.”

To buy time,
she fiddled with the case file on her desk top while deciding what
she could share with him. After a moment, she asked, “Are you
familiar with the term ferals?”

“Yes, they’re
vampires and lycans who still hunt humans. They were common fifty
years ago, but they’re practically nonexistent now. A few hang on
in remote places. You know, like the Upper Amazon or Tibet.”

“What does the
corporation do when one’s found?”

Jerry took a
breath, taking his turn to organize an answer. “Well, keeping in
mind they’re outlawed, when one pops up, we work with local
authorities, providing information about the individual to
facilitate capture. Coven International is as interested in
removing ferals from society as humanity is.”

“Are you
telling me the corporation involves itself only indirectly? The
stories about an elite kidnapping force are false?”

“That’s
correct. To the best of my knowledge, the corporation has no direct
participation.”

“Will they
give help in the form of information, identities, and such?”

Jerry’s face
became guarded. Lawyer- not lover and friend- answered. “It depends
on what’s requested.”

“Based on what
you just told me, I need to speak with someone who has access to
identities, as well as locations of the community members.”

“Are you
talking about the city? The state? The region? The world?
What?”

Lorna laughed.
“Don’t be silly. My authority ends at the city line. All I worry
about is what goes on in this town.”

“I can tell
you the area has a high concentration of The Others. As many as
three hundred live within fifteen miles of where we’re sitting.
They cherish their privacy, and the corporation respects that.”

Lorna
understood the desire for privacy, recalling stories her Gran had
told about lynch mobs in the years following The Outing. A large
minority of humans believed The Others should not get a pass for
their history of hunting humans, although little direct evidence
linking individuals to particular crimes existed. In the United
States, fundamentalist religious groups led the attack, spurred by
several television evangelists. Over time, the violence faded, with
occasional outbursts, centered on rural areas of the Southeast or
Midwest.

“Look, Jerry,
I have six dead bodies on my hands. We’re pretty sure a lycan did
it. I need help from the corporation to make DNA identification.”
She slammed to a stop, not having meant to tell him so much.

Jerry took the
information aboard. His mouth formed an “O” as all of the
implications revealed themselves. “For sure you need to speak to
someone important.”

“Why not cut
through the crap? We can start at the top.”

Jerry made a
little frown. “Good luck with that. Ed White’s schedule is so
tight, even the head of my law firm, Mrs. Willis, has to set
appointments a month in advance.” Lorna suspected Jerry referred to
Edward White in the more casual form of address to imply a
nonexistent familiarity. Name dropping was one of the few things
she did not like about her lover.

“We’re on
police business. We don’t need an appointment.”

“That dog
doesn’t hunt, love. These aren’t the good old days when governments
were the most powerful organizations. Our client has offices in
over two hundred regions, municipalities, and countries. They’re
probably the largest corporation in the world, with a possible
genuflection to General Electronics, the military contractor. If
you try to bull your way in, I promise they’ll have you, along with
your police department, tied up in knots before you pass the
security desk while Ed will be out the back, on his way to another
country.”

Raising her
eyebrows, Lorna turned on her warmest, most seductive expression.
“Whatever you can do will help me a great deal.” Winking
provocatively, she added, “And you, too. Now tell me something
about this Ed White.”

“There’s not
much to tell. He’s a vampire. His grandparents are The First
Parents, Samantha and Jim White. His father, also named Ed, was in
the litter of The First Children. Ed is Chairman and CEO. It
doesn’t get any bigger than him.”