Origins (A Demonkin Novel) (26 page)

I hit the apartment door without slowing. I'm sure the neighbors would be out to investigate the booming crash resonating through the halls. I needed to be gone before their curiosity outweighed their caution. I gathered my clothes from the dresser and shucked the scrubs. Shirt, pants, and shoes changed at supermodel speed. My gun remained at the hospital, and I only felt a momentary twinge as I raced out of the building far from unarmed.

Chapter 20

The streets of Chi-town filled early. People leaving work made their way to parking garages and train stations. Others had just arrived into the city for dinner and entertainment. Friday nights suck in Chicago. I never understood why somebody would stand in line to pay exorbitant amounts of money for tiny little plates of tiny little food. Maybe if I ate I would get it.

I knew my destination; I just didn't know the exact address. I wished I had paused at the apartment long enough to look it up on the internet. I didn't even have a cell phone to call information. I needed to slow down and start thinking. I spotted a middle aged woman walking down the sidewalk toward me talking on her cell and as she passed I reached out and placed my hand on her arm. She stopped her conversation and looked at me like I had leprosy. Apparently she had "personal space" issues.

"I'm sorry to bother you ma'am, but would you happen to know where Capone's Vault is? I'm meeting a friend there, but I lost my cell phone."

She gave me a thoughtful look like she had been expecting me to ask her for money. I guess she decided I dressed well enough to be answer worthy. She spouted out some directions and it sounded like I wasn't far. I nodded my thanks and walked at a normal human pace while I planned my next move. I needed to get to Cicero, and to get to him I needed to find Marazzo. To get to him, I needed to get to Capone's Vault. It sounded like a good plan to me.

I had my fill of getting my ass kicked, and I had my fill of these fuckers hurting people I cared about. I hated that I couldn't trust the people around me, but most of all I wanted to shove my hands in Capone's chest and rip his heart out. I didn't notice, but with every realization I made, I had pounded my fist against my hip. It didn't hurt, but it didn't do wonders for people thinking I might be a normal human out for a stroll.

I looked up at the street sign and realized I had reached my first turn. I made my way from Delaware Place to Rush Street and walked past the buildings. There it sat, nestled in the lap of one of the buildings, Capone's Vault. I don't know how, but they had gotten permission from the City to park a 1920's Ford up on the sidewalk right by the entrance. They must have called it art and made a donation to the city. You gotta love politicians.

What is it with vampire run establishments and lines to get in the places? The line at Fangloria's had been long. The Line at Mega Bites' had been even longer. The line going into Capone's Vault bordered on ridiculous. It stretched for at least the length of the block. I needed to get in, and I needed to get in now. I couldn't flash my badge since it probably sat in a lock box at the hospital. I couldn't just walk up to the door and say, "Hi, I'm with the FBI," without it either. And since this establishment wasn't a place vampires congregated, I'm sure there wasn't a separate line to let the undead in.

"Maybe I should walk in and ask for a job," I said to myself jokingly. Then I thought, "Why not?" I doubted it would work, but it looked like my best option for getting in the doors without just barging my way in. I got a few dirty looks from the line of people, but I walked past them all and made my way to the front doors. How the glass front of the restaurant supported the weight of the solid oak doors fell well beyond my feeble understanding of architectural design. Solid brass handles festooned them and sparkled from hanging gaslight chandeliers. Cicero had spared little on the décor of his flagship business.

I pulled the solid door open and stepped back in time. The dining area of the restaurant had to be one of the largest in the city. On top of that, the stage where I'm sure performers delighted diners with prohibition era themed entertainment took up another large area. I was amazed by the entire place. Paraphernalia and regalia from old Chicago adorned walls and columns and everywhere. Hardwood floors complete with sawdust shavings glittered under their dusty coverings and Italian plaster walls completed the visage of a 1920's speakeasy.

"Welcome to Capone's Vault, how many are in your party?" I looked at the young hostess behind the dark podium.

"I'm sorry; I'm looking for Vincent Marazzo about employment," I lied. When I said it, I made sure to expose my fangs at the young human woman, hoping to make it seem legitimate I would be looking for the Vampire.

"Oh, he's in his office. I'll see if he's available. Is he expecting you Miss…." She trailed off asking me to fill in my name.

"Ashlyn," I said without thinking.

I watched as the hostess left her post and made her way into the bowels of the restaurant. I only had to wait a few minutes before she made her way back up to where I waited. She gave me a smile and told me someone would be right with me. I put my back to the wall and waited. Apparently the hostess wasn't lying because only after a few minutes I watched a vampire dressed like a 1920's gangster march his way from the back of the restaurant, through the patrons, and up to the hostess station. He whispered something I couldn't quite catch because of the din coming from the dining area, and the hostess nodded her head. He looked up at me and gave an icy smile and stepped away from the hostess. He made his way over to where I waited and gave me a once over.

"Ashlyn?"

"Yes," I said nonchalantly.

"We're not hiring at the moment, but Mr. Marazzo would like to meet you for possible work at another location. Please follow me," he said smugly.

He turned to lead the way and I followed. Walking in his wake made it easy for me to catch his scent. I don't know why, but I half expected the vamp to be Marazzo pretending to be an underling, it's what always happened in the movies maybe, but his scent of cinnamon and cloves told me it wasn't the case now.

We wound our way through the diners and into the kitchen. Normal humans yelled out orders, cooked meats, whipped up side dishes, cleaned, and a multitude of various other duties to make the restaurant run. The noise coming from the kitchen almost hurt my ears, but the smells made my mouth water. For the millionth time I found myself whimsically wishing I could try just a small bite.

Thankfully we weren't in the kitchen long. The vampire I followed led the way out of the kitchen and into a small hallway leading to various storage rooms and what I assumed dressing rooms for the performers. The hall ended at an ornate wooden door. He stopped short and didn't put his hand on the knob, but knocked a series of taps on one of the panels. If somebody opened a tiny portion of the door and asked for a password, I would to start killing people, so help me gods.

I heard a muffled, "Come in," and Mr. Vampire reached down and turned the knob. As expected he opened the door and motioned me to enter first. I did, and as soon as I entered the room I smelled him. Lemon and vanilla wafted over to me from a man I hadn't even seen yet. I growled and raised my eyes and saw him sitting behind the gigantic wooden desk. He sat reading a document and hadn't shifted his attention to me yet either. I gave a quick glance around the room and I gave silent thanks to the gods. Other than the vampire standing behind me and Marazzo, there wasn't another vampire in the room.

"Mr. Marazzo?"

"Yes", he said as I swung around and grabbed the vampire behind me by the throat. I could feel my claws pierce the skin of his tender throat and I sank them in farther. With as much strength as I could muster I swung closed fisted at the side of his head. No blunt instrument on earth could kill a vampire, but I could definitely knock his ass out, and it is exactly what I did. I wanted him incapacitated, not dead. Marazzo on the other hand I wasn't so sure about.

I turned around and he stood behind the desk, unsure whether to attack or flee. Fleeing wasn't much of an option since I stood between him and the only way out. I glanced at the unconscious vampire in my claws, and I let him drop to the floor with a sickening thud. "Sorry," I muttered out of the corner of my mouth, but I knew it fell on deaf ears.

"Who are you?" Marazzo’s accent was thick New York. Apparently he wasn't a local boy.

"Agent Ashlyn of the FBI, maybe you've heard of me?"

"You're the Verminator? To what do I owe the honor of your acquaintance?" He sat back down on his padded leather chair and plucked a fat cigar out of deeply stained wooden box on his desk. He bit the end off and spit it on the floor as he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out an antique brass lighter. He lit the end and puffed on the cigar. It was nice not to have to worry about second hand smoke when he expelled what seemed to me an extraordinary amount of smoke over his head.

"I'm looking for Cicero," I said flatly.

"I don't know who you're talking about," he lied with what looked like practiced ease. He even smiled as he said it.

"Mr. Marazzo, you are under arrest for the murder of several police officers, and one vampire named Mathew Aames. Are you going to come peacefully?" I retuned the fake smile.

He laughed at me, and threw the desk at me. I expected a lot of responses from him; a desk wasn't one of them. If the room had been bigger I might have been able to side step the gigantic missile. I quickly held up my arms to try to deflect the gigantic mass of wood. I'm strong, very strong, but inertia sucks. I have a small mass, a very small mass compared to a solid wood desk traveling at a high velocity. My hands stopped the desk from actually striking me, but it did pick me up off the floor and push me through the back wall. The wall itself stopped the desk, but I found myself in another room full of human women changing into flapper outfits for their performance.

I looked at the desk through the Ashlyn sized hole in the wall. I picked myself up off the floor and ran at the desk and kicked it back into Marazzo's office. I followed through the hole and looked around. We base our reactions on expected behaviors. I entered the office expecting Marazzo to have taken off running, and because of my expectations I wasn't expecting him to be standing right next to me. I didn't even notice him until I felt his hands around my throat.

Vampires don't need to breathe, so he wasn't choking me, but he could crush my spine. I grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms away from me. I could tell he wasn't expecting my strength, and to tell you the truth it shocked me a little. He jumped back out of reach and flung a large chunk of desk at my head. Time slowed again like it had in Cicero's office. I leaned back and watched the missile as it sailed past me and buried itself in the wall behind me. His renovation bill, if he lived through this, would be in the five digit range if he kept this up.

I made a mistake, as I watched the missile flying by me; I took my eyes off Marazzo. I realized my error as soon as I felt his fist connect with the side of my head. For the second time that day I flew across a room. Who said vampires couldn’t fly? This time at least I didn't go through the wall, but Marazzo landed on top of me as soon as I landed. He had his fangs bared and had moved in to strike when I shoved my hand through his chest.

He stopped and looked down in morbid curiosity. Apparently he, unlike me, had never seen his internal organs. I tried to avoid looking; it wasn't something I wanted to see again, ever. I did however feel his heart. I wrapped my hand around it and placed the tips of my claws against the pulsing thing. It wasn't beating, but I could feel it squeezing his miraculous vampiric blood throughout his body ever so slowly. It's what made us seem dead. No rhythmic pumping for us. Apparently everything about vampires is fluid, even our hearts.

"If you move, I will rip your heart out you son of a bitch," I said slowly.

He made no movement, so he must have believed my threat. I would have done it, so maybe it wasn't a threat. I looked over at the open door and saw several vampires staring at us in disbelief. Marazzo noticed them too because he managed to croak out a whimpering, "Don't," keeping them at bay.

"Where is Cicero?" This time I could be the smug one.

"I swear to you I don't know, if I did I would tell you, believe me."

I didn't believe him, not even a little. I looked up into his eyes from my prone position and caught his gaze. I felt the room drift away until we floated in the place where the ocean of my power met his. Our illuminating bodes stood in front of each other whole and un-bloodied. I gazed upon his turbulent waters and knew he had been around for a long, long time.

"Tell me where Cicero is," I said to him, but this time my voice took on the resonating quality I had heard Gloria use. I didn't know if I could do it outside of my mind, but one day I needed to try. If I could capture vamps with my voice instead of first doing it with my mind, I could save myself a lot of work.

"He's hiding, hiding from everyone, even me. He only calls when he needs something and then he always meets me at one of his warehouses. Maybe he's hiding there. I don't know. He is completely paranoid."

I thought about arguing about the logistics of being paranoid when everybody really is out to get you, but it would have been a waste. Marazzo wasn't himself right now. I had completely trapped him in my mind leaving him almost zombie like.

"What about the agent he had his vampires capture?" I felt my life end when I heard the answer I had already known. I knew as soon as I captured his mind. I saw it all. I just wanted him to say it.

"When we heard you had bought the farm, Cicero had him killed".

"
How
?"

"I drained him dry and had his corpse incinerated," he answered. He didn't say the words to be malicious. He still sat in a trancelike state. He simply reiterated a chain of events as they had occurred.

My thoughts drifted to Michaels. I had only known him for a short time, but he meant the world to me, a world which would be a lot darker without him in it. My heart sank and my hope died.