“Sir, put the stick down right now!”
The lights from the police cruiser washed over the accident, painting the scene as well as everyone present in bright primary colors.
Sirens from the cop’s backup were now approaching from different parts of town.
The disintegrated remains of a vampire lay on the hood of his car, and blood from another creature was splattered across the street.
“Oh my Lord,” the bus driver sighed.
“Yeah,” Cole groaned as he dropped his spear and raised his hands. “You got that right.”
Chapter 10
“So,” Daniels said as he stepped into the two-story house on Kensington Avenue, “not all Skinners live like squatters?”
Ned’s house was covered in faded siding and a new roof. The lawn surrounding it was due for a mow, but wasn’t long enough to hide the old rainbow-shaped sprinkler connected to a vinyl hose. Inside, it smelled like dusty books and coffee. Some nice hardwood covered the floor, but was partially obscured by a collection of rugs that may very well have been collected from yard sales spanning the last several decades. The only place Daniels could look without seeing a bookshelf was straight up, but he couldn’t do that because of his chronic bouts of mild dizziness. He dragged several cases inside while perusing the shelves set up in the entryway.
“You don’t like my house?” Ned snapped.
Daniels shook his head and bent down to look at a complete series of demonic encyclopedias. “On the contrary! It beats the daylights out of an abandoned restaurant in Chicago.”
By the time Ned turned to look at Paige, she was already waiting for the inevitable. And, like a good piece of clockwork, Ned asked, “You’re still living in that restaurant?”
“Yes, Ned.”
“Don’t you know that Gerald only picked that spot as a place for an emergency? It was supposed to be a weapons store, nothing more than that.”
“I know,” Paige said. “But it’s got so much closet space and my very own industrial fridge. Do you know how many pizza boxes I can fit in there?”
The old man shook his head and shuffled through the living room to a staircase. “You got chemicals to work on?”
“Yes,” Daniels replied. “And a body to dissect. It’s in the car.”
Eager to get away for a moment, Paige chimed in with, “I’ll get it.”
“What are these?” Daniels asked as he pointed toward a set of symbols etched into the door frame. While examining one set of symbols, he found even more that were angular and precisely drawn around the door, with only the occasional break between them. “Is it some sort of language?”
“No,” Ned replied. “Don’t worry about those. And don’t mess with those jars. Just don’t open anything unless I say it’s all right. That goes for everyone!”
But Daniels couldn’t help following the symbols all the way around the door, along the ceiling, and eventually around a window frame.
Standing at the base of the stairs, Ned said, “I’m not working on your schedule, Nymar.”
Responding to the tone in the old man’s voice like a kid who’d just been called by his first, middle, and last name, Daniels hustled to follow Ned upstairs. He was taken to a small bedroom on the second floor that was at the opposite end of the hall from two larger rooms. Even though most of the room was taken up by several minifridges and narrow tables of equipment ranging from paint mixers to heat lamps, there was still a set of bookshelves wedged in on the wall adjacent to the door.
“There’s some plastic tarp in the closet,” Ned explained. “Throw that down before you drag any body in here. You’re not bringing anything toxic in here are you?”
“If there is anything contagious to be found, it’s way too late to worry about infection now,” Daniels said. “Are you equipped to run tests on biological material?”
“I’ve done plenty of work for Barnes-Jewish Hospital, so if there’s anything you need that I don’t have, just let me know and I’ll make some calls.”
“How about access to a portable CT scanner?”
“Do you really need that?”
“No,” Daniels chuckled as he displayed a droopy fang in a wide grin. “I was just pulling your leg.”
“Hilarious,” Ned grumbled.
The front door squeaked open and slammed shut. Those noises were followed by the thump of heavy footsteps and the groan of old stairs. Before long Paige stepped past the old man with the body of Peter Walsh wrapped in plastic draped over both shoulders in a fireman’s carry.
“Where do you want this?” she asked.
“On the plastic,” Ned replied. When nobody moved, he turned toward Daniels and raised both eyebrows expectantly.
Lurching toward the closet, Daniels scanned the shelves until he found a pile of neatly folded tarps. “I’ll lay these out. Also, I could use another sample from you, Paige.”
“I’ve had a long day and I don’t want to get cut up right now. Didn’t you contact those other Nymar?”
“Yes, but they didn’t tell me much. That gives us some time to—”
“Gives me some time to rest,” Paige cut in. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there was a rocking chair downstairs with my name on it.”
After Paige left, Ned asked, “What sample were you talking about?”
“A sample from her arm,” Daniels replied. “I’m trying to put together a treatment.”
“Skin sample?”
“And tissue,” the Nymar said with a wince. “From as deep as you can get.”
The old man nodded and left the room. He headed downstairs, where he found Paige settling into an old rocker situated next to an older couch in front of a surprisingly new television. She acknowledged his entrance with, “Finally got rid of the set with the bunny ears, huh?”
“Had to, with the switch to digital.”
“Oh, right.”
Ned went over to one of the many bookshelves in that room. Not only were there more shelves than in the rest of the house, but they were decorated with knickknacks of all shapes and sizes. Pennywhistles and antique Howdy Doody figurines were scattered among volumes of mythology and folklore texts. An African thumb harp sat on top of a row of white witchcraft cookbooks propped against a chipped cement frog that sat with its crossed legs dangling over the edge of the shelf. Ned reached below the frog’s feet to a stack of flat leather cases arranged in front of some medical texts. After patting the frog on the head, he unzipped the case to fish out a small scalpel.
“Why don’t you tell me how you messed up your arm?”
Paige flinched as if the words had snuck up and smacked her on the back of the head. Since she was too comfortable to escape, she sighed. “The idea was to bond shapeshifter blood to human tissue so we could borrow some of their powers for a little while. The only thing I know that can bond to a shapeshifter other than a person is a Blood Blade. When I got my hands on one, I gave Daniels a piece of it and he came up with a substance that acted as a bonding agent.”
“You mean a colloid.”
“Right. I couldn’t inject the mixture directly into my veins without the chance of being turned, but I thought it could be attached to a buffer and pumped directly into the muscle groups I wanted to enhance.”
“That’s how you came up with the idea of using the mixture as tattoo ink?”
“Pretty much.”
