Jamaica Blue Magic: Chapter 12

The investigation continues... and takes a turn Dylan did not expect...

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Chapter 12.

Since two of the three politicians were in Kingston and Dobson was staying at a resort in Negril, it was decided to focus on David Leo and Nicolai’s business meeting and conservation hobbies. It was possible other European investors were involved, and they just didn’t have enough information to assume it was a territorial dispute (at least, according to the more rational members of their group). That left the Caribbean Sea Turtle Conservation Network hatchling turtle rescue project, and the meeting with the Jamaican Environmental Trust to be investigated.

They decided to split up and tackle the problem. Dylan and Tina went to meet with David Leo from Los Angeles, while Paula and Henry went to visit the Sea Turtle Conservation Network. Louis and John went to the Jamaican Environmental Trust office to see who would be attending the meeting.

It was a long shot, and Dylan wasn’t sure they weren’t barking up the wrong trees. Truth was, he just wanted to go after Dobson and shake the information out of him.

"Dylan, we need to talk. This isn’t just about Dobson."

Dylan bit back an immediate retort. Tina knew him better than almost anyone, and if she was taking this tack, she had a damn good reason. "Okay, so what is it about?"

"It’s about you, your revenant, and your family," Tina said bluntly.

"Wait, what? Okay, yeah, my mom’s spirit is in that bastard’s hands, but—"

Tina sighed. "You've told us the story more than once about how you ended up in that graveyard Anna rescued you from. How you might've started it, but how it really all went back to how your father shaped your whole family.

"I know you're angry at your dad, and you've got plenty of reasons for that. Sure, he was trying to protect you, but he was also a douchebag," Tina said as they approached Legends Beach Resort, where Leo was staying. They walked down a red brick path towards the hotel. It was colorful, a two-story aqua and coral edifice with gold-railed balconies and palm tree gardens. "But you need to break from it, Dyl. Your past is your past. Get over it. You have to take your father, and the past he made for you, off its pedestal, or at least off that dusty shelf in your head, and look at it, accept the truth and take responsibility for it. It’s the reason why you’re a revenant. If you don’t let it go, you’ll never think rationally with this Blackwell business, and that could get you killed for real."

"What truth? That my dad hated our kind because he was hiding from the fact he was a ma cà rồng? That he damn well knew paranormals were people, but couldn’t admit it because he couldn’t fight the real problem? Yeah, I know."

Dylan hunched his shoulders, biting back his disgust. It would be so much easier for him if he had followed the path of peace, like she had. He might even still be alive instead of a revenant. "I bang my head every day on how much more responsibility I need to take. I know I need to make up for what he did and I did. I also know I killed to please him. I could have walked away, but I didn’t. I’m just as much as a monster as he was." He took a breath. "I thought I was a hero, killing monsters in their graves or beds. I never questioned my victims. I never questioned him." He took a breath in an attempt to focus his thoughts. "It’s why I’m a revenant. I was tormented by everything we did and hated him for it."

Tina laughed and shook her head. "I didn’t say you need to forgive him," she said flatly. "I never forgave my daddy or the bastard who killed me. But you can move past it."

He had made his choices. It was easy for him to become a killer. How could he move past that? Dylan looked at her puzzled. "I can’t move past my own sins."

"You accept them, and you’re active in your resentment towards the people who set up the system behind your father’s blind hatred of the undead. But you have to stop hating yourself and focus on thinking clearly." Tina waved a hand. "It’s hard as hell, but it gets me through my days. I have a goal. Someday, I’ll rewrite the Constitution so every sentient being in our country is equal, regardless of color, race, species, sex or origin and it will be in language they can’t ignore or interpret out of existence. It may not be possible, but I’ll fight to the end of my days for it."

"John, Angie, Paula, Henry, and I will beat the living hell out of anyone that gets in your way," Dylan said with absolute conviction, recalling their promises when she first confronted the League about paranormal rights. It was never about one group of people then; paranormal civil rights were just Tina dipping her toe into the legal arena. "But you don’t have any sins, Tina. Your soul is clean."

"It doesn’t mean I’m not a walking ball of raging feminine fury when I need to be. I just know how to pinpoint and direct it. We condemn ourselves into becoming our own demons, and that can, and will, get the best of us. You have to walk on eggshells when you walk the path of the revenant. Walking the path of peace is different, but it’s not about forgiving as much as it is about letting go of animosity so we can function."

"Putting it in its place is easier said than done." Dylan said. Tina was always brilliant, passionate, or blunt at need, and he had been on the receiving end of her revenant’s rage in the past. When the occasion required, she took no shit from anyone, friends included, and Dylan appreciated it. "And you fuckin’ sound like Sacco. It’s human nature to cling to the things that shape us," Dylan said. "Especially to the things we want to blame for our shortcomings."

"And you sound like John."

"That’s because I’m quoting him."

She laughed and slapped his arm, hard. "Don’t get you anywhere, does it? Just back to the same old angry, self-pitying space? When you really need to think and act with the other people around you?"

"I can’t disagree." He admired Tina because of her idealism that was still, somehow, pragmatic—as a lawyer had to be. Her heart was in the right place, she knew how to use words, and she got to the point. It was how she had managed to win rights for revenants, ghouls, and the other undead in the League. She had learned from bitter experience in life and applied it to the world she was in now. For a moment, he wondered about her and John and why they still weren’t together.

They had finally arrived. Tina knocked on the door and waited.

A young, dark Latina dressed in flowing skirt and blue bikini top answered the door. "Yes?"

Dyl’s senses immediately told him she was half human and half vampire. A stop-and-drop, Dylan thought bitterly. When would vampire feedings stop targeting innocents?

"Is Mr. Leo in?" Tina asked.

"Are you Ms. Marty? I’m Rachael, his fiancée." She extended a hand and smiled warmly, then glanced over her shoulder. "David, it’s Tina Marty and Dylan O’Reily. They’re here to ask about Antonio."

David stepped into view and joined them at the door. He was a tall ghoul with dark, wavy hair, and deep brown skin. He was handsome and showed few signs of advancing ghoulism, save for the sharp teeth and almost too-slender build. "Of course. Thank you, Rachael." He gave her a quick hug and kiss; she waved and set off towards the pool, obviously to let them talk privately.

After watching her leave, David Leo turned back to them, smiled and extended a hand. "Ms. Marty, it is a pleasure to meet you! I understand you’re with PFM, from New Orleans and New York? I have been following your work for the last few years! Not an easy job, is it?"

Tina’s smile broadened as she took his hand. "That’s us. I understand you want to start a chapter in LA? Very brave of you, especially with all those culls they do."

His handshake with Dylan was less enthusiastic and Dylan could tell instantly that his presence made the man uncomfortable. However, Leo answered Tina without a pause.

"That’s exactly why we need to do it. I can’t express how much of an honor it is to meet you. Ms. Marty; I’ve read your essays on the Sato process, and viewed your presentation on racial and economic demographics in revenant, ghoul and zombie populations and how this has been terribly misrepresented by our own governments to encourage culling. I also read your book, Blood Bonding or Psychic Slavery: On the History of Blood Addiction, very enlightening. Blood exchange in our country is highly regulated, but I can see your point about how abused it is in business contacts, especially vulnerable employees and household staff."

She wrote all that kind of stuff? Tina was very busy, and obviously causing a stir. He noticed her blush, and Dylan found himself feeling, oddly, a little jealous. "Why, thank you, Mr. Leo! Yes, blood bonds can be abused in many ways and we need to re-think how they are used. The American League’s foundation is built on a bunch of old fossils surviving from before the Civil War. Someone has to point out the failings in their archaic colonial-logic so we can evolve as a nation."

"A logic that thrives on the idea that our society must have slave labor to exist, ranging from prison labor to conflict minerals. In our world, of course, we have different issues—blood bonding, blood banks, blood servants, hexing, curses, psychic and empathic influences, fae matching. Not to mention bribery, special interest groups, and dark money and lobbying like the mortals… I was never clear how we could confront the issue, because it is so engrained in our society and political system."

He’s a fucking fanboy. "Remove the people behind the corruption."

Tina stared at him with a furrowed brow.

Apparently feeling he had to say something to the other visitor, David Leo glanced at Dylan. "Mr. O’Reily. I’ve heard about your duels. You managed to make quite a… mark, I suppose. I’m not sure if a territory battle was the best way to get our people noticed, but it was… effective."

            Well, I hadn’t meant it that way, but he did bring it up.

A flash of resentment forced Dylan to look down; meeting a man’s eyes was a challenge, and the revenant in him would just make it harder to back down. Besides, this wasn’t the first time he’d faced a cold reception due to his territory battles, or his old hunting days; hell, it wasn't even the hundredth. He was proud of his duels. Sure, they were controversial, and so was his previous life as a hunter, and he was still paying penance for the lives he took, but… "Thanks," he said, deciding to take it as a compliment. "And it worked out in more ways than one. Duels are illegal now in the League because of them."

David blinked; he obviously hadn't thought of that. "Well, then," he said, with a tone oddly between conciliation and confrontation, "Good riddance to an archaic law." Silence fell; David Leo looked slightly embarrassed, and Tina’s narrowed gaze did not escape either his or Dylan’s notice. She didn't like his bringing that up.

He seemed to realize he was the one who had caused the faux pas. "Won’t you both please come in?" He opened the door wider and let them enter, then gestured for the two of them to sit. Dylan made sure Tina was seated first before choosing his own chair; only when both of them were comfortable did David speak again. "So, what brings you here?" he asked with a deliberately friendly smile.

"You already know. Antonio Nicolai," Dylan said. The smile vanished and David Leo became solemn. "He was murdered three days ago."

"I heard on the news, yes. There was a story on the League Network. His death is a great loss for the undead world. It is rare to find a highblood willing to think out-of-the-box the way he did."

"Do you have any idea of who might have wanted him dead?" He regretted the obvious question as soon as he asked it.

Leo didn't seem bothered, however. "Oh, it’s more a question of who wouldn’t? Hell, even in Europe there was a list a mile long. The only thing that kept him alive was his connection with Claudius Vassilius. That got him into the American political scene, with the help of Claudius’ wife Pandora."

They exchanged glances. "Did they have access to fae?" Tina asked.

Dylan wondered if the Europeans were making their own territory grab, rather than carrying out some noble attempt to save the ‘Mother’. Then again, this Claudius… Dyl recognized the name. He was a known witch hunter, so was he investigating the demons, and Antonio’s activities were completely unrelated?

So much he didn’t know. It was just making his head ache.

"I don’t know. Fae never came up in our discussions. Given the delicacy of that subject, you would hardly expect it to. I was more interested in having his organization donate to my campaign. He researched the Sato process, and invited a few of us involved in FPM to Jamaica for a conference on pollution and it effects on the undead. It was an enlightening conference. I was an environmental biologist before I was ghouled, so I understood most of what he was trying to explain."

He shook his head and laughed. "Just with a bit of a different twist; undead science is still new to me. It’s part metaphysical, part biological, with a huge truckload of what should be utter bullshit, but isn't. Nicolai presented a lot of material; if you're interested, Tina, I can give you some pamphlets." David stretched his legs and looked across the grounds.

"How many of your group attended? And yes, that would be applesauce heaped on a blood-kidney pie, thanks," Tina replied politely. She leaned her arms on her knees.

David’s face brightened at the reference. I had no clue she liked applesauce on blood kidney pie, maybe I should make her one? John must make them all the fucking time. Or is this some weird saying I've never heard before?

"There were eight of us there in total. I’m not sure how many remained in Jamaica after. Rachael and I just needed some private time, so I didn’t ask."

"Who are you running against?" Dylan relaxed against the wooden back of his chair and watched the trickle of hotel attendees walk up and down the path. It was a lovely night. He wondered what it would have been like to be alone with Anna on a trip to a place like Jamaica.

"Charles Roberts. He’s very much into culling paranormal numbers, and believes in an age-based cut-off on rehab. And before you ask, I have no idea who backs him. It’s all black money and special interest groups, mostly associated with species disease control."

"Who in the hell do they think they are? They’re still using that ‘disease control' bullshit with us? Have they even looked in the mirror and taken a good look at their fangs and asked why in hell half of us revenants are walking? They’re just as 'diseased!' It’s a case of the pot calling the kettle black, if you ask me!" Tina folded her arms, brow wrinkled in anger. She sideglanced Dylan. "Might be a good idea we check into some of these groups associated with Mr. Robert’s campaign."

"I’d send Filipe a text, but my phone, according to John’s scientific opinion, is crap." Dylan told her. He fished into his pocket and pulled out his cell. He flipped it open to find no bars on it. "Aaaand he’s right. Damn, I really hate it when he’s right. I need your iPhone."

"I’ll text it," Tina said; she touched his hand. "We’ll pick you up a new one when we get back to New York. It will be like old times."

"I’d like that." He shoved his phone into his pocket. He really hadn’t had any private time with Tina, and he damn well knew they’d never get any in on this so-called vacation. "David, you run across any demons in L.A.?"

"We have a few trying to carve out a territory. Superchurches are cropping up, teaching that fire-and-brimstone crap. Heck, I even heard the guy who took over the local chapter of PETA was a demon. I dated one once, she was fucking intense, but I just couldn’t get into the S&M lifestyle she needed to feed with."

"Feeding off groups is a lot safer for negative energy consumers," Dylan told him. Most demons weren't that much different from regular folks, they just needed negative energies; still, a part of him always feared they were out for souls, like Dobson. He forced himself to think of Alice; most demons were like her.

"Everyone’s gotta make a living. But with that, I guess it’s no wonder there are so many demonbloods into politics; negative energies are pretty much everywhere there." David checked his watch and got to his feet. "I don’t mean to cut this short, but I promised Rachael we’d meet at the pool."

"It’s okay. One more thing before you go, David." Dylan asked, standing. He offered his hand. "Are you still planning on running? If you are, one of us should stay."

"Yes, I’m not tossing in the towel yet, and thanks, I have Ms. Marty’s number on speed-dial. I’ll be fine. I don’t need a babysitter." He took Dylan’s hand and shook it again—this time with more sincerity. What do you know; maybe a little diplomacy does go a long way.

He waited for Tina to finish her text and took her hand. "Ms. Marty, I think you should run for Magistrate. We need people like you."

"Why, thank you." Tina squeezed his hand back. "Take care, David." She gave him a swift nod and joined Dylan as the two of them exited the cabin ahead of their host. They watched David walk up the path toward the beach. "I am completely at a loss about this case."

"I’m not. It’s Dobson. Gotta be." It was all he could think of now. He didn’t want to leave; he had a feeling there was still something that David Leo knew that could help them, but chasing him down and forcing themselves into the middle of what was obviously a private vacation wasn't going to get them anywhere.

Tina fixed him with one of her "be patient" looks when there was a screech from the pool area. Both of them spun, but this time, Dylan was ready.

Don’t want to be seen. He directed his thoughts to invisibility; this way the mortals wouldn’t know he was there. Then he sidestepped into Tina’s shadow.

The world around him stretched into a cold, sharp-edged realm of stark buildings and brilliant green plants and large, buzzing, insect-like beings with multiple wings and bodies like wood. It was a startling change, and it took a moment for him to take it all in; the grounds of the hotel were lush, and filled with flowering plants, and four-legged creatures he had never seen before in the shadow realm. But he had no time to try and understand what he was looking at; instead he sprinted up the pale, translucent path of Legends Hotel and leapt into the next shadow and out—just in time to see a blazing blue-white fire engulf David Leo, transforming him into a perfect statue of ice before he shattered into a billion shards of dust.

"God-dammit!" More curses on his lips, Dylan found another shadow, leapt through the shade of one tree and out another, just in time to bound skywards with his pistol drawn in time to face Leo’s startled assailant an instant before she could fly off.

The indigo-haired child fluttered in front of him, her icy pale-blue flesh glittering in the moonlight. He fired point blank.

And a storm of blue white snow and ice battered into him, sending him and the bullet down into the pool below. The last thing he heard was her giggle, the high-pitched, joyous sound of a delighted child, before he plunged below the surface of the now-freezing water.