“Lieutenant Kelley?” I asked a man in a suit. He appeared to be around my age, not bad-looking, with a harried expression on his face.
“Yeah?” He looked up from the headless body at his feet. “Ah, shit. This is a crime scene, lady. Police only. Glass?” he called to another detective. “Get her out of here.”
“Detective Sergeant James,” I said, holding up my ID, “Arcane Division.”
“Huh? Oh, sorry.” He waved Glass away and looked back down at the body. Usually, a headless body belonged to either a vampire or a demon, decapitation being a sure-fire method of ensuring death for those species of Rifters. That particular body, though, was covered in bright red human blood. It also wore a cutoff jean jacket and had a beer belly such that I’d never seen on a vampire.
“Looks like you’ve got a mess on your hands,” I said.
“That’s an understatement. Seven dead so far, but we’re not sure we’ve found them all. More than twenty transported to hospitals.”
The bar-restaurant had glass doors that opened out onto the deck. They were smashed, and I could see the inside of the place was a wreck. Broken tables, chairs, and glass littered the floor. A vampire hung from one of the pilings out on the dock by a motorcycle chain around its neck. A wooden stake protruded from his chest.
An unfortunate blend of musical tastes had brought the two groups together. The bikers were fans of a heavy-metal group, and the vamps were there to see a vamp-goth band. Add some alcohol and meth to the blend, and it ignited.
I wandered around, checking things out. Another vampire sat against one of the piles with a Bowie knife lodged in her chest. Contrary to the old myth, vampires could be killed in a lot of different ways. As with all biological beings, cutting off their heads or driving a spike through their hearts would do the trick. But a bullet through the brain or blowing off a leg with a shotgun also worked fairly well. Both of those methods had been employed at the Middle River Boat House that day.
So, I had found four dead vamps and a dead biker, but Kelley’s count was seven. I looked around some more. Inside the bar, a biker chick was impaled with a table leg, proving that humans also died when staked.
“James?”
I looked up and saw Mychal Novak, gesturing to me from one of the side doors. The seventh body turned out to be a devil. Novak had found him outside, on the opposite side of the building from where the brawl took place.
“Did you find a weapon?” I asked.
“No, but it looks like a stiletto was shoved into his brain from behind. Either magikal, or magik-enhanced.” He rolled the body slightly so I could see the wound.
“Fire lance,” I said.
“That’s what it looks like to me,” he answered. “Doesn’t look like this had anything to do with the rumble between the bikers and the vamps.” Novak held up a plastic bag with a dozen small vials, each full of a yellowish liquid. “Although this might have tossed some gas on the fire.”
“Astropene?” I asked, and wasn’t happy when he nodded. “So, if someone killed him because of the drug, why does he still have it?”
Novak shook his head. “Two reasons come to mind—either the murderer missed a bag, which means our friend here was carrying a helluva lot of the stuff, or they had a dim view of drug dealers and killed him because he was dealing it.”
“Makes sense,” I said. Novak’s logic was sound. “Maybe they planned to rip him off and got interrupted. But it does clear up one thing. I was thinking meth and alcohol might have fueled the brawl, but I think you’ve nailed it. This is a lot better explanation for the carnage inside.” Astropene came across the Rift, and it only took a drop or two to make a human think he or she was a god. Usually, the godlike properties astropene users exhibited weren’t the sweet, kind ones.
“What would happen if a vamp bit someone on astropene?” I asked.
Novak’s eyes widened, and then he shook his head and laughed. “I have no idea, but I doubt the effects would be favorable.”
I went back to the deck and checked the arms of the headless body, then found Kelley.
“Check the people you arrested, and those who went to the hospital. We found a dead devil out front, and he was carrying enough astropene to inspire a small army. Your headless horseman has a recent needle mark on his arm.”
Kelley swore. “That would explain it.”
“Yeah, it would. I’m going to call in someone from Arcane Vice and turn this over to them. As far as the dead drug dealer, I’m willing to chalk that one up to a public-spirited citizen. I think what went on here is pretty straightforward, unless you need me for something else. It’s supposed to be my day off.”
“Naw, astropene is a good enough explanation for me. And hell, if your drug boys can track down the dealer’s killer, I’m more than happy to let them do it.”
Chapter 18
I really didn’t want to go into work that Monday morning. Novak had performed acceptably at the scene of the biker-vampire brawl the day before, but he still bugged me. So, I smoked a joint before hopping on my bike and heading down to the station. I figured if I was a little mellower than normal, I might get along better with my new partner.
Of course, no sooner had I walked through the door than the desk sergeant said, “James! The deputy commissioner wants to see you.”
Sticking my head into Whittaker’s office, I said, “You wanted to see me?”
Novak was already there. I needed to talk to him about that. I wasn’t late, but him coming to work early made me look bad.
“Yeah, come on in.”
I approached his desk, and he turned
