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Lord, what have I gotten myself into? Rick found himself praying for probably the hundredth time since watching Dante get sniped twenty four hours ago. Resurrecting phoenix humans were bad enough, but somehow Dante being one of the good guys made it easier to take. Vampires, though? Dante was scared enough Rick was nearly convinced they were real himself. Did that mean that whole thing yesterday about the dogs meant actual werewolves as well? What other things he’d written off as fantasy were actually real? And, really, were any of them worse than vampires?
Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. A verse of Scripture came to mind, both applicable and encouraging in the face of all the uncertainty and weirdness. God was the one constant he could lean on regardless of what turned out to be real.
He followed Dante into the mall to an upscale department store. Not exactly the place he expected to find a nest – er – coven of vampires.
“Laysha is the Queen of the Vampires.” Dante stopped outside the store and lowered his voice. “She has no love for me, but as the Vampire representative of the Mythic Council has no choice but to cooperate. She is no threat to either of us here.”
“Vampires working the makeup counter at the mall? Not lawyers or politicians?” Rick teased. The mermaid at the wharf and the werewolf enforcers made more sense than this.
“Vampires are above all else manipulators who like to take advantage of their victims to get what they want. So they are well suited to sales. Plus, they are exceedingly vain.”
Rick snorted at the hypocrisy of Dante calling someone vain.
Dante gave him a withering look and went on. “The Vampire Guild is aligned with cosmetology, sales, and some... less savory occupations. We are fortunate Laysha prefers an easily accessible trade.”
They entered in front of the makeup counters and an impeccably dressed woman about Rick’s age crossed to them with a wide grin. A grin that faded when she saw Dante.
“Oh. What do you want?” Her perfectly made up face contorted in disdain.
“Official business, Laysha.” Dante showed her his PNI badge for emphasis. “One of yours took a sailor down by the wharf. I need to know if you've heard anything.”
“No. My people have been lying low since the last scandal.” She gave Rick a pitying look. “We have a bad enough reputation with the humans as it is.”
She stepped closer to Rick and traced a long, painted nail along his scruffy jawline. “Is this your new one? I must say, he’s better looking than your last one.”
“Don’t touch him, Laysha.” Dante’s volume didn’t change, but the threat contained in his tone was undeniable.
“Pah. Keep your human pet, Dante.” Laysha sniffed. “If owning just one of them soothes your conscience about selling yourself to the whole of humankind.”
“Wait just a minute. We’re partners.” Rick bristled. At least the werewolf enforcer played the coded game with Dante. Laysha didn’t seem to care if her disdain for humans was public knowledge. “No one owns anyone.”
“Really? You are human, right? I can smell it in your blood. That makes you a lesser creature. Don’t worry, it’s not an insult. Many mythics keep your kind like you keep dogs. Even vampires do it.” She smiled and bared her teeth at him. “As for Dante, what would you feel if a human played enforcer for a feral cat colony? Respect? Appreciation? Mythics can handle ourselves. We don’t need Dante or PNI.”
“Mythics need me and PNI if they wish to continue to live in harmony with the humans.” Dante moved slightly so that he was between Laysha and Rick. “Mythic crimes can be handled by the Guilds until they involve humans. PNI makes sure that we maintain peace between the races.”
“Maybe some of us think the price for harmony is too high,” Laysha snapped. She waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll ask around. It is in our best interest to make sure that a rogue isn’t going around murdering the pets of other mythics. Mermaids can be quite vindictive.”
“I’m sure the Council appreciates your enthusiastic cooperation.” Dante nodded sarcastically and turned to go.
“She was quite blunt, wasn’t she?” Rick scrambled after Dante. “Do all Mythics feel the same about humans?”
“No, most are quite happy to live as equals in harmony. Otherwise, we’d have had a devastating mythic-human war centuries ago.” Dante gestured back at the department store entrance. “Vampires have always seen humans as little more than cattle, and of course resent having to subject their natural desires for peace. The other Mythic Guilds tend to see their relationships with the humans as mutually beneficial, and appreciate my role in keeping violations of the peace in check.” He shrugged. “Until I come knocking on their door. It is the same way with human cops, no? Enforcement is appreciated until it touches them.”
“I suppose.” Rick frowned. He’d worked with officers who’d gone back to police the difficult neighborhoods they’d grown up in and had faced the same mixed response. Sell-out and traitor were some of the nicer things they’d been called as well. “Are there other Mythic officers in PNI?”
“A few, yes, mostly as liaisons to neighborhoods populated with their people. Intra-Guild crime is handled by the head of the guild – Laysha in this case. Inter-Guild crime is handled between the respective heads, or taken to the Council.” He paused to get in the car. “My department handles capital crimes perpetrated by mythics on humans. Essentially, the crimes that would threaten human-mythic relations if they became public.”
Rick thought about that for a moment as he started the car. “Is that why you insist your partner be human, to help broker human relations? I mean, you wouldn’t need to worry about losing an immortal partner.”
“Among other reasons.” Dante fingered the embroidery on the hem of his glove. “For over a century after I was cursed, I was rejected by both man and mythics, without a guild and clearly not human. A human named Leonardo De Vinci saw my potential and eventually helped me get a job as the paranormal investigator to the King of France. Both sides see me as a tool. Mythics who know my history are prone to see me as ‘just a bird’, while humans are more likely to eventually appreciate me as a friend.”
Rick considered commenting on the sadness of that observation, but was interrupted by the sound of classical music coming from Dante’s pocket.
Dante pulled out his phone and answered, “Charles.” He listened for a moment, tapped the speaker on, and turned the phone so they could both listen.
“We’re still tracing the sniper Rick took out. He’s someone’s werewolf enforcer, but no one’s claiming him at the moment, and he’s not in our files.”
The lack of progress in the investigation into an attempt on a federal agent’s life – his partner’s life – irked Rick to no end. He flashed Dante a look, but Dante was focused on the phone screen and showed no indication he was as irritated.
“That’s not really why I called, though. Have you seen Lynch’s most recent post?”
“More recent than the ones I reported after our run-in with him?” Rick snorted.
“Probably. It went viral an hour ago.”
Rick called up the channel on his phone and saw the latest upload titled, “Mythic Murders Sweep DC.”
“Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One,” Dante breathed under his breath. He snatched the phone from Rick’s hands and pressed play. “Have mercy upon us and on the whole world.”
“Amen,” Rick added. Even with his limited knowledge, he knew this was like striking a match near a gas leak.
“That’s right, Cryptid Conspiracies fans, VampirePhoenix has conclusive proof that a wave of murders are sweeping the city. Werewolves, Vampires, and other Mythics are rising up against humans in a bold way we’ve never seen before.”
Pictures and video clips followed of the last two cases, narrated by Lynch’s bombastic commentary declaring that the mythics were after every man and woman in the DC area.
“Vikas called,” the director informed them grimly. “The Council is understandably concerned. They want our assurances that we’re handling the PR on this. Obviously, we’re trying, but it would be easier if we solved these cases.”
“Do you think they’re connected?” Rick asked skeptically. There had been zero similarity between the cases, at least on the surface. But what did he know? He hadn’t even believed in vampires fifteen minutes ago.
“Honestly, no.” Director Leon sighed. “But now that Lynch has opened that Pandora’s Box, it’s our responsibility to close it. We’ve got our research specialists working on tracking any overlaps the victims might have. I need you two to go back and interview the families and keep an eye out for anything that sounds similar.”
“We will interview Ms. Zanotti’s family immediately.” Dante handed Rick back his phone. “I will eventually have to speak to Vikas myself as well.”
“Do that. He tends to respond better to you than me.” The director scoffed. "Remember the time we managed to get him a meeting with the President. That went well."
"I will speak to him," Dante assured the director softly. "Keep us informed if anything changes."
"You do the same. And, Rick, sorry about your baptism by fire." The director chuckled. "No pun intended, but it's not usually this intense the first week. Just remember you can call me at any time, for literally any reason."
"I'll remember." Honestly, though, everything was happening so fast Rick wasn't sure what to ask.
Dante tapped the screen and went back to a private conversation. He listened for a moment, frowned at Rick, started to protest, listened a bit more, said, "If you think that's necessary, Charles," then hung up.
“Yeah, that didn’t sound ominous at all.” Rick laughed a bit nervously.
“Nothing all that bad,” Dante chuckled. “Charles has agreed to pick up the tab for our friendly wager. Text him the name of the restaurant of your choice and we’ll go tonight.”
“Since I clearly lost that ‘friendly wager,’ your concession doesn’t make me feel much better.” Rick folded his arms over his chest. “And certainly wouldn’t elicit an ‘if you think that’s necessary’ response.”
“Charles is concerned that this might be too much for your first case. Werewolves, vampires, and two resurrections – not to mention the prospect of rising mythic-human tensions – all in your first week?” Dante shrugged, but looked at Rick sharply. “Traditionally, the current director, I, and my new partner meet for an evaluation after a month. Charles wants it tonight.”
“And if I fail, what happens?” Rick narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t possibly figure out how he could pass a monthly evaluation after two days.
“Charles would give you reduced responsibilities until the case is closed.” Dante lowered his voice, “If you were still interested in the position after the evaluation, that is.”
“That bad?”
“Usually the conversation is geared toward addressing concerns about difficulties adjusting to the rather... unexpected requirements of the job. You’ve not had time to adjust to the fundamental basics of the job, much less the discussions of the more complicated scenarios.”
“Like shooting you myself?”
“Like that, yes. Among other things,” Dante replied dryly. “Charles wants to make certain you’re ready to face what may well be the most difficult case of the last fifty years.”
“And if he sidelines me, who has your back in this ‘most difficult case’?” Rick also wondered what kind of case fifty years ago might have been more difficult than the threat of paranormal warfare, but decided to focus on the problem at hand.
Dante didn’t answer.
“Dante?” Would they truly rather sideline him and leave Dante without backup?
“I’m certain Charles would figure something out.” He grinned at Rick. “You will simply have to pass the evaluation, no?”
Not happening. Rick glared at the steering wheel. He wasn’t going to lie, and there was no way either Dante or Director Leon would take his honest answers for anything other than exactly what they were: an indication that he was in way over his head. “Where does Amara Zanotti’s family live? This case isn’t going to solve itself.”
Dante accepted his change of subject with a nod and gave him an address.
Rick threw the car into gear and drove in uncomfortable silence to the home. As many times as he had considered quitting, the idea of being sidelined or fired didn’t sit well with him. He mentally rehearsed his answers to the questions he knew were coming. If this was going to be his last opportunity to make a good impression for a while, he wanted it to be a good one. He wanted to make sure he ended his pending hiatus on his own terms.