Jamaica Blue Magic: Chapter 5

They say it never rains but it pours, and Dylan's about to find that out...

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Chapter 5.

"Christ on a pogo stick! I’m away for, what, a few days and the world goes to hell in a handbasket!"

Dylan paced restlessly across the parking lot of a Jamaican grocery store. It was better reception out here than his cabin and Louis had wanted to pick up some beer.

"Sorry to freak you out, dude," Filipe said apologetically. "But it’s better I told you now than wait for Qui to tell you. When things get too hot around here, we will call you; but for now, don’t worry. We’re fine. Angie and Qui have it in the bag. Now, about this thing you want me to look into?"

"Hold on, still trying to deal with what you just told me. The twins have been hunting in Central Park? Jesus."

He shook his head. The problem was that the twins didn't get it. Being a shape-changer and controlling it, especially in a hunt for monsters instead of just food out in the wild, that was not easy.

"You sure they’re ok? No trouble with the cops? They weren’t injured?"

"None of that, they are fine, dude. We’ll handle it. You and Lou, enjoy your vacation."

Filipe was being too quick to answer, too reassuring. Dylan frowned, but let it slide for now. He’d talk to Angelus later; Angie would have a lot harder time hiding anything from him.

"Now," Filipe continued, "you wanted me to look into something?"

"Yeah. I need you to run a background check on this guy, name of Dobson. He runs a school, Liberty Cross. See if he has any unusual students. Specifically, any that might fit this profile: white or very light hair, bichromia, one red eye, one gold, around the age of 14. It’s a long shot. John will email details. I also want you to check out a vampire from Italy named Antonio Niccoli."

"Ok. Other than that, how’s the vacation?"

The voice on the other end crackled. Dylan shook his phone and moved to the center of the parking lot.

"It was going great. I discovered that Angie set me up; the whole old gang’s here. Lou and I ran into John, Tina, Hen and Paula at Alfred’s the other night." He shook his head. "Damn shame I had to run into the demon who helped murder my parents, and then witnessed some kind of bat-bug-chick make antipasto out of Niccoli."

"You know, they have authorities to deal with that sort of thing," Filipe told him. The phone clicked and Dylan heard the voice of a woman on the other end

"Jeez, Filipe, you’re not entertaining, are you?"

He felt a rush of embarrassment. The Zombie had a better love life than most vampires he knew.

"Yes, but nothing naughty, just a little programming and research, Dylan. Susanna is here, you know, my model friend."

How could he not know Susanna? She was the Ghoulie Girls centerfold for August. She was a blonde, blue-tinted Zombie with the bloat in all the right spots. At least, that was how Filipe described her. She was the background on his laptop screen; Dylan had to admit that aside from the color, she didn't look dead at all. How Filipe managed to convince her to visit was a mystery. The mummified zombie was a lady magnet for some inexplicable reason.

"Are you planning on hunting this thing, whatever she is? Remember, brother, there is no protection for you in non-League territory. Free it may be, but the authorities are still hard on our kind. We’re secret, and they like to keep it that way."

"Yeah, I get it."

Dylan looked down abstractedly. After checking out the victim’s ID (without leaving prints), he and John hadn't stuck around to be questioned by the Jamaican paranormal police. Neither of them were comfortable with the idea of being the only supernatural witnesses to the crime, and the fact the assailant had up and flown away, leaving only ash behind, made it easy for the police to pin it on anyone capable of killing the vampire. The fact they were both vampire-made revenants didn’t help, either; vampire-revenants had even worse reputations than some others.

So, John had simply shadow-walked their way back to Alfred‘, neatly bypassing the long walk, and encouraged the others to depart back to the hotel John and the rest were staying in down the street. It was almost daylight by the time they finished, so Dylan was forced to crash at their place.

The revenant wasn’t sure if the murder was connected with Dobson. It had occurred a distance from Alfred’s, and the target sure wasn’t who he’d assumed it would be.

The only reason to think it was connected was gut instinct and the killer. She was a girl, fourteen at most. School age. When Dylan had been a boy, Beckmann had been collecting children: half-breeds and fae-blooded. What if he’d continued that charming hobby? Was it possible she was one of his projects?

The kid sure would fit the bill, though hiding her in a Christian school would be a little difficult. The wings and big eyes would stand out, unless she hid them with magic. That would certainly fit Beckmann’ sense of irony. An innocent child, in a Christian school, who appeared part demon. The funny thing was that Dylan’s senses didn't think she was a demon. In fact, her very presence had muddled his senses. Don't know that I've ever run into anything like that before.

"You know, Dylan, Qui sent you and Lou on vacation so you’d relax."

"I did relax, dude. I swam, had a drink, saw a murder, all’s good. Gave me a sense of purpose. Good thing I bought Stella, Ethel and the girls."

Using his nicknames for his weapons was probably silly. If someone was listening in, they would already have been hearing way too much. But it made him feel better not to explicitly mention he had firearms that he really shouldn't have in Jamaica.

"And what does Lou say about this?" Filipe sounded amused. In the background, Dylan heard him tapping.

"He’s getting a couple of six packs of beer. We’re meeting the gang at the cabin, and after you find out where Dobson is staying, we’re going to do a good old-fashioned stakeout. Hell if I’m up to it, just might just set up a duel. They still have dueling laws in Jamaica for our kind."

He paused, looking back at the store. Louis shouldered his way out, carrying a bag of groceries. "While you’re at it, check into flight records and tell me how many League highbloods are in the area. I want profiles on them, and anyone they’re scheduled to meet. Especially ones that stand out, just in case. You know how there’s bad blood between American highbloods and European. There might be a connection."

"Sure. Dueling and spying in a Free country? Boy, the League’s gonna love that."

"The League can go fuck itself. They know Blackwell and anyone to do with him is my business, and I made that damn clear to them," Dylan snapped, revenant rising momentarily before he wrestled it back down under control. "Oh, another thing: can a demon necromancer take the soul of someone who rejected them before death, without a ritual?"

"Did they mark the person beforehand?"

Dylan didn’t rightly know. Looking up, he saw that Louis had placed the bags in the back of the jeep and was now looking at him with his arms folded.

"Damned if I know. He didn’t kill her, though, Blackwell did."

"I’d say very unlikely then. He’d have to have done it. Why, Dyl?"

"She was enthralled by Beckmann, this Dobson now, for a couple of years. She even participated in his religious services."

As he spoke, Dylan felt his gut tighten. There was a pause.

"Dude, that changes things. She was definitely marked. He had all the time in the world to do it. Depends on if she made peace with herself. They can get souls like that through guilt. With that said, he just might actually have her. The only way to free her is to make her forgive herself."

That was what he feared. If I can't forgive myself, how can I convince Mother to forgive herself, when she did invite in the people that ended our family? Dylan frowned.

"Thanks, Filipe; just send John an email with all the data."

"Sure. And you tell the slacker I’m still waiting for issue 210. He left us at a fucking cliffhanger."

Filipe was an avid reader of John’s Revenant comic book.

"Okay, okay, I’ll tell him to send a signed copy. And Filipe, let me know what’s going on. I’ll be back in a heartbeat if things get bad. You guys are family."

Filipe’ voice was cheerful.

"We can take care of ourselves, dude. The twins are fine, the lovely Qui, Angie and Jason are dealing with the police, and whatever legal matters; but, we appreciate it. Same goes for you too, you know. There in a heartbeat, if I had a heart!"

The zombie gave a deliberately unearthly chuckle.

"Take care."

The line went dead.

He’d been too cheerful, too easy. There was something Filipe wasn't saying. The twins were in trouble.

Dylan switched off his phone and rubbed his eyes. Mother or not, he was just about ready to get on a plane and tend to the girls. The League would eat them alive if they had the chance. A cambion of all things. They mixed it up with a goddamn cambion. I haven't even seen one of those in years. What in God’s name were they doing chasing after a cambion in Central Park? Damnation, the old bear is gonna have my ass.

"Time to go back to the house, Dylan. At least we can try and enjoy a little of this vacation, Louis said, coming up behind him.

"Yeah, sounds like a great idea. But you might change your mind after I tell you what’s going on at home."

Louis frowned darkly. "Trouble? What happened? Who did not have the sense to keep their heads low while we were gone?"

It took everything Dylan had to keep his calm. His features became very serious.

"Long story short? The twins played super-bear in Central Park. They’re okay, but Jason is running an investigation. Filipe says everything is cool, and Angie and Qui are dealing with it. But me? I have one of those 'shit’s gonna hit the fan' feelings."

Louis rubbed his temples.

"I wish I could say I didn't know what you mean, but I do know exactly what you mean. By the Gods, what in the name of all that’s holy were those girls thinking?"

"I dunno, Louis, and I'm sure there’s more they aren't telling me. One of us will have to squeeze it out of Angie." He took a deep breath. "But they are asking me to trust them to handle it. And me?" He looked into the distance, as though he could somehow see Beckmann. "I've got someone else in my sights."