Jamaica Blue Magic: Chapter 14

Dylan learns a bit more, but all they know is, things are bad...

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Chapter 14.

Word from Filipe confirmed Dylan’s suspicions. Roberts had graduated from Dobson’s school and was indeed being funded by the "Healthy Undead" special interest group. The organization had been created in the eighties, after the League accepted more diverse groups of undead and paranormals into their ranks. Cornelius Aston had founded it… and Aston was a close friend of Wilfred Blackwell. Tying it all even closer together, Dobson had recently adopted a 13-year-old niece of startlingly vague background from England. There were no pictures, and her papers were glaringly obviously those of a supernatural being hiding from the mortal world. Found you.

"You can still go and see your band, T." Dylan said as he cleaned his gun on the kitchen table. "No one is saying you guys can’t take a break."

"Who wants to take a break?" John demanded from the couch. "I’m in. Hell, I want nothing more than put a crimp in this fuckhead’s election plans. If it also means stopping his little murder plot, sign me up."

"Henry and I could go to Sandals, and see if Dobson is with the girl. We haven’t been seen by the cops yet," Paula volunteered. She hadn’t mentioned using magic since the other night. Though after David, Dylan half-hoped she would. They needed someone who understood fae magic, and that someone sure as hell wasn't him.

Next to her, Henry looked up from a brochure he had picked up from the turtle conservation place. "I’m in. Are we going to touch base about what we dug up? Or did we rescue turtles last night for nothing? I mean, not for nothing, little guys were cute and all."

"I don’t think we have time for an exchange. And Dobson knows you guys. He’s too dangerous. He’d kill both of you, easy. No, I need to deal with him," Dylan said, pacing. He noticed Tina look up from a folder on John’s investigation and frown, but she said nothing. She knew he was right; if it came down to the ugly, all of them put together weren't half as threatening as he was.

"Do we have any other names?" she asked instead. "I think our priority should be protecting targets."

"I could take them into the shadows, then back to New Orleans and the Sports Bar Center." John said. "Takes me no time now."

He was that skilled with his power? Dylan stopped pacing to look at John. "You can teleport long distances now? Why didn’t you tell me?"

"You never asked. I’ve been training," John said matter-of-factly. "But I think Dylan’s right, we don’t know enough about this case to decide exactly what or who his targets are. He killed one black-money investor and one candidate." He paused. "We know the candidate was with the FPM, but the investor was a European, which means any black-money investor from Europe can be a target. I do think we need someone watching Aphrodite. I don’t think she’s safe."

"She hasn’t left yet?" Dylan asked.

The door to the cottage opened and Louis walked in with a bag of groceries. "Good evening." He smelled of sea salt, and sprinkles of sand clung to his hair.

"Get much surfing done today?" Henry asked.

"Quite a bit, actually. I went to Alfred’, took in a few waves, listened to some music, had lunch and dinner. It was a good day." Louis placed the bag on the counter. "I trust you all slept well?"

"I did the spa." Paula said with a smile. "And the beach, and lunch while Hen slept. Glad to hear you had fun, Louis! Someone has to party down while we're here!"

"I don’t share in the luxury that you people call sleep." John remarked. "I was a corpse all day, I didn’t rot, and no one tried to clean my room, so I didn't go up in smoke."

"That’s a yes, then." Louis removed several packages from the bag and put them into the refrigerator.

"If you mean my day as an unmoving, unsleeping dead thing didn’t entirely suck, then fucking right."

"It was lovely, Lou, thanks for asking." Tina replied politely.

Dylan nodded a greeting. He sort-of saw rest periods the same way John did. "Thanks, Lou."

"So what have I missed?"