The cleric knights sat around the long table. Each one a fighter. Each one a preacher. In the forty years since the death of the great king, Onrius Skiv, the Goblins had held the upper hand. Many of these thirty knights had seen the horrors of war with Havskel of the Deep and had looked into themselves, into the place where their soul ached to rejoin its Gnuph body in Mhalasia. Since the death of Onrius Skiv, the kingdom had divided. Skiv, ever the peace maker, had held it all together. Now it was a time of warlords, thieves and, of course, the Goblins.

 

            In the great, green hall of Elbum Cathedral, the High Cleric Adron’etz and the Warlord Pflezka took their places at the council table. Adron’etz raised his glass and blessed the cleric knights with the Rites of Olhm-Shuul. When the blessing was over they drained their ornate goblets. Adron’etz took a deep breath.

 

            “Zjon the Sword is dead. Struck down by Havskel of the Deep. Havskel is still in possession of the Skiv Killer but lacks the true stone.” All but Pflezka closed their eyes at the mention of The Stone. “The seed of Zjon have scattered to the corners of the world and have secreted the stone. Unlike my brethren in the High Council, I do not feel that hiding the Stone is sufficient. Until the Stone is returned to Elf lands, we are vulnerable to Havskel’s hoards. So you have a task. A task that may not end in your life time. A task that will one day deliver the Elves from the onslaught of The Tainted. A task that will reunite our people with our Gnuph bodies of old.”

 

            An unease spread through the cleric knights. The High Cleric’s words were frightening. It was strange that he would hand down a charge that went against the High Council of Orders. The High Cleric rose and held aloft a golden seal. “This is your crest! The Crest of Elbum. Your sole purpose is to find The Melk Stone, wherever it is in the world, and return it to the elves so that we may be victorious.  This is your mission, the mission of your children, and all your bloodline until the quest is complete.” He looked at one of the knights. “Mantah. I am placing you as leader. You are to recruit those you deem worthy and stand as high judge over those you deem guilty. As you decide, I will uphold.” He looked to the knights. “Mantah and all those whom he appoints are the law makers. They are The Mezo.”

 

            The Knights of Elbum rose and faced Mantah. They bowed. Their lives were his. His was the divine right. The driver of their souls. The keeper of the quest. He was now The Mezo.

 

- Big City -

APERTURE

by Eric Schwartz

           

            Charlie blinked. While he and the young lady had only met for a moment, the power of her eyes and the beauty of her face had stayed with him all these weeks. She had rushed out so suddenly at their last meeting, he wanted to grab her and make sure she didn’t bolt again.

 

            “Miss Danae?” Charlie said again. “What are you doing here.”

 

            Kalista was rushed. She stepped up to him and removed her ball cap. Her long hair fell around her face. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pickens.” She moved past him into his office. “The door was open.”

 

            “Miss Danae, I’m…”

 

            “My friends call me Kali, Mr. Pickens.”

 

            “Kali. I’m sorry but Smiles isn’t here.” Charlie shut the door to his office. He didn’t mean to but something inside of him made him want to be alone with her.

 

            “I know. I am here to see you, Charlie.” She stepped up to him again. “Please don’t think me forward.” She took his hand and stared up into his eyes. The moment seemed like forever to Charlie. The urge to lean forward and kiss her was strong. Her siren eyes beckoned him. Her body was close. He watched her breasts rise and fall as she breathed. In his mind, he knew that this was part of what a Siren was. He thought of Laura and broke through the spell a bit. An instant later Kali released his hand. She turned and sat gracefully in the chair. “It’s true,” she said.

 

            By this time Charlie was well aware of Kalista Danae’s gift. The young Siren could see images of person’s future through simple or, as Stack and Needless speculated, more complex touching. He felt a shiver in his spine. Something was wrong.

 

            “I read about the attacks in the paper,” she said. “At Serenity. I was as shocked as anybody. But it put some pieces together for me.”

 

            “Pieces?” Charlie sat in his chair, staring intensely at her.

 

            “Several weeks ago, when we met outside this office, just briefly, I saw things.”

 

            “Yeah. You said I wasn’t like the rest of them, I was different.”

 

            “Did I?” She chuckled. “Yours were some of the most intense images I have ever received. I understood very little. But some of those images made sense when I heard the news.”

 

            “The vampire attack?”

 

            “I knew I had to see you. I had to tell you.”

 

            “Tell me what?”

 

            “I believe you’re in danger. Or will be. Soon.”

 

*

            Needless stumbled backward, stunned. The brilliance of the flash had left him momentarily blind. He heard the shrieking of injured vampires and the sound of a thousand voices yelling. He heard fists and rocks and sticks colliding. He was sun-blind in the middle of a riot. He felt a sharp pain and was thrown to the ground. As the white-purple after-image began to fade he realized that several angry young men were bearing down on him. He pulled his shield up in time to hold them off. The half-elf rolled out from under them and gained his footing.

 

            Needless thrust forward with his shield and knocked one of the young men back. With his free hand he grabbed another and forced him to the ground, shouting “Don’t move!” He turned in time to see his fellow officers fire gas canisters into the crowd. What had happened? It had all gone to hell. As if second nature, he slipped one of several, plastic strips out of his belt, the ones they use because it’s impractical to have thirteen pairs of handcuffs, and cuffed the man on the ground. The other two had scattered into the crowd.

 

            There was no order, no battle lines. Everybody fought everybody else. The suddenness  of the violence had taken the riot squad by surprise and they had broken ranks. It was a free for all.

 

Needless looked around and saw two vampire youths on the ground, their faces splotched with severe burns. The sunshine grenade had been diffused by all the people, but where it had hit them, their skin had browned and bubbled. He rushed to them. They were both shivering from the cold and slipping into shock.

 

            Needless knelt beside them and bellowed into his radio. “This is Sgt. D’yen!” Before he could speak again, dozens of voices screaming for ambulances blasted from his radio. There was no point. He looked down at the oldest of the two.

 

            “Can you walk?” he asked. The vampire nodded. Needless looked at the other, who wasn’t doing as well. He took a deep breath.

 

            A moment later, Needless, with one of the injured vampires thrown over his shoulder, the other running beside him, fought his way through the chaos, to the street where the ambulances would arrive.

 

*

             

            Wood splintered, glass shattered and the doorframe was ripped from the wall as the Ironton police rammed through the door into the kitchen. Only a few dozen feet away, in the garage, Stack Fury and his temporary partner Callisto had discovered a fertilizer tank filled with what Stack was sure to be discovered as the blood of the Serenity victims. As the last slivers of the door jam fell, police began to roll through the kitchen door and spread into the house. 

 

            Stack and Callisto soon followed.

 

            It wasn’t a vampire home. The occupant was an elderly human, Warren Blevins. Stack feared the worst. Something in his gut told him that the owner had no idea of what was stored in his garage, or that the police were there. Callisto turned on his flashlight and the two eased down the stairs to the basement, guns at the ready for whatever they might find.

 

            The musty smell of the dank, unfinished basement hit them with a drop in temperature as they descended the stairs. Their feet finally came to rest on the cement floor and they began to look around the room. Unfinished wooden shelves lined several walls, containing the bric-a-brac of a lifetime. Winter Season decorations, old books, dust-covered board games and boxes were crammed onto shelves.  Above them, the wooden beams creaked as the Ironton police moved with all the stealth of a drunken fat man.

 

            An old workbench adorned another wall of the basement. A few tinkering projects laid unfinished on the bench. Tools ranging in age from shiny new to decades old hung in their proper place on a peg board mounted to the wall. While Stack had never been here, he knew the place. It reminded him of the basement of his father’s house, his grandfather’s house. His sense of dread grew.

 

            Light trickled through the grime and weeds covering the windows that sparsely lined the wall near the ceiling. Callisto dragged his light along the wall near the floor.

 

            “You think we’re looking for Blevins?” Callisto whispered. Stack nodded and moved his light along the opposite wall. Finally the two lights converged on a freezer in the corner. It was a large unit that opened at the top like a casket, the best friend of hunters and fishermen. Stack and Callisto looked at each other and moved toward the freezer. Stack sighed. It wasn’t large enough to hold a man. Unless…

 

            Stack’s light fell on the old man’s frozen stare. Callisto surveyed the body and jumped back with a gasp. Blevin’s frail, naked form had been snapped in half and stuffed into the freezer. His throat had been slit. As Stack leaned in an ran his gloved hand along the slit on the throat, his eyes came to rest on something else. An emblem, about the size of a foam coffee cup bottom, burned into the old man’s chest.

 

*

            Charlie stared into the girl’s eyes. Fearful and sultry. Deep, swirling pools that seemed to want and warn him. He nodded.

 

            “Kalista, what exactly did you see?” he asked.

 

            She smiled gently. “It’s not something I can put into words easily. The images started out slow but quickly grew faster.” She closed her eyes. “You are on the phone. You are seeing newspaper pictures of The Serenity and blueprints. That was the part that started making sense. You are very afraid. Mmmm,  ‘Both, please’? Then things are a little disjointed. You are cold and in the dark. Needless is there. There is a scuffle and then burning.”

 

            Charlie swallowed. “Somebody burns me?”

 

            “No. Burning. A hot green flash. Nothing you have ever known. This is where I don’t understand what follows.” She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. The images were too difficult to explain. Things she understood but couldn’t comprehend. Words. Numbers. Movement. She opened her eyes and looked at Charlie and shrugged. “All I can feel in the moment is Mathtalker. Does that mean anything to you?”

 

            Charlie looked at her quizzically. He shook his head. “What happens next?”

 

            Kalista looked into him. “Black. Just blackness.”

 

            “Like…”

 

            “Death.” Kalista murmured.

 

            Charlie felt his knees shudder. He had just heard the circumstances of his own death. He looked at her. “Why are you telling me this? You don’t even know me.”

 

            “I felt I owed it to you. You…” She swallowed hard. “You confirmed some of my suspicions.”

 

            “About Manzetti?” Charlie said, regaining his footing.

 

            She nodded. “Yeah. I probably have said too much already.” She caught her breath for a moment and headed toward the door. She moved out into the main waiting area. Charlie rushed after her.

 

            “Wait. Is he after you? Does he have something on you?” He yelled after her.

 

            “I don’t…I don’t know.” She stopped and turned. “I don’t even know who he is or how he fits into my life. All I know is that I feel him around me. I know he’s looking for me. I need to get out of the city for a while.”

 

            “Smiles…Stack…they can protect you. You can help them find Manzetti.”

 

            Kali shoveled her hair back into her ball cap and slipped some sunglasses over her eyes. She chuckled slightly. “They can’t even protect themselves from him right now.” She opened the door. “Please don’t look for me.” She sighed. “And watch yourself.”

 

            When the door closed Charlie could feel the quiet of the room surround him. He shuddered slightly.

 

*

            Mayor Denizen looked out of his window at the riot as it spilled out on to the streets around center park. Behind him Smiles and Venect watched also. The Mayor’s aides and staff seemed much more content to watch it all unfold on a bank of televisions. They all groaned as one of the national cable news networks began running a feed from the local affiliate. Things were not going well. Except for the constant din of the overlapping newscasts, nobody spoke.

 

            The Mayor put his hand up on the glass. He had already been told that it would be pointless and dangerous for him to venture down into the fray. His mind raced. His city was falling apart and he felt helpless to stop it.

 

            The phone rang. One of the aides pulled himself away from the televisions and answered.

 

            “Mayor Denizen’s office. Yes sir. Yes. I understand. Thank you.” The aide hung up. Wordless, the Mayor turned. The aide sighed. “That was the Governor. He’s mobilizing the Militia.”

 

            The Mayor’s eyes lowered. Smiles and Venect looked at each other. The Mayor braced himself. “I’m going down.” Aides stood, terrified. All shouting that it was too dangerous, pleading with him not to go. “Enough! I am going down there. Tell the media that I will meet them outside the main door.” He looked at Smiles. The Mayor could feel that this man didn’t have a political bone in his body. He searched Smiles face for justification. Smiles nodded. That was all he needed. “And somebody get me a bullhorn.”

 

*

            Phendra Ilken sat in front of his television, watching the devastation unfold in the heart of the city. He frowned that so many elves were being hurt. But it was for the greater good. Everything was going according to plan. It was only a matter of time before they would find the second marker.

 

            Everything had been prepared for. It had been so long since their name had surfaced. Soon the police would find the symbol and their name would once again begin to strike terror. An announcement that they were still alive, still strong, still looking.

 

            After decades they had found the location of the first marker. The marker laid a thousand years ago. It was the first step in the path to the ultimate goal.  He just waited for the news that would mean they could begin their move. He looked down at the ring. A ring older than the city, older than nearly anything. The ring that declared him Mezo.

 

*

            Throughout the city, smaller riots were breaking out. Shop windows were being smashed and stores being looted. The television was over and over again reiterating that the free-for-all had begun and Big City was up for grabs. Racial dislike and tension began to bubble up and spill over. Bars emptied as drunken patrons began to join the fighting.

 

            In the heart of it all, Needless Action was trying to save lives. He placed the Vampire youth into the arms of a waiting EMT who quickly worked to help the boy. Needless watched for a moment, making sure that the boy was going to be all right.

 

            “Is he going to be okay?” Needless yelled over the noise of the riot.

 

            “He’s in shock. I need to get him to the hospital.”

 

            Their conversation was cut short by shattering glass. Needless’ head whipped around to see a group or rioters approaching. They were pitching rocks at the ambulance. They saw the two Vampires that Needless had helped and they began to charge. The EMTs looked up, horrified. Needless turned back to them.

 

            “Get them out of here!” Needless helped the more-mobile Vampire into the ambulance. The two EMTs pulled the other in and shut the door. Needless heard the engine roar to life.  He turned back  to see the group charging, pipes and bottles in hand. ‘Shit’ was his only thought.

 

            The rioters descended on the ambulance and Needless.

 

            Feeling his human blood erupt inside him, Needless pitched his shield into one and kicked another one back. He felt himself gripped from behind and he used his attacker as a wedge. He rolled back and brought his police issue boot up into the jaw of another rioter. He then completed the flip and found himself behind the guy who had tried to restrain him. As the surprised attacker turned, Needless drove his helmeted head into the unsuspecting face of the attacker. The thug fell to the ground. As Needless broke free of the group, he realized that the ambulance couldn’t move because of the crowd that had gathered.

 

            Without a thought, Needless clambered to the top of the ambulance. Reaching the top he found a young elf had scaled the ambulance as well and was kicking out the flashers on top. Needless grabbed him by the nape of the neck and flung him back down on to the street.

 

            Inside the ambulance the terrified driver jumped as a pair of black boots appeared out of nowhere and landed on the hood in front of him. Needless Action pulled his beloved Really Big Gun, Penny, out of its holster and slid down the hood into the crowd of people attacking the ambulance.

 

            He rocketed feet first into a pumped up guy, lost in the moment, as he was smashing the headlights. As the guy sprawled backward he jerked back, ready to smash a skull. He found himself on the business end of the Really Big Gun.

 

            “Penny for your thoughts,” Needless blurted, staring into the guy. The guy scrambled to his feet and moved back. The surrounding crowd also fell back as the crazed cop began making wide, sweeping motions with the gun.

 

            “Mother fuck! I have been dying to use this all day! Please, one of you, give me an excuse. And believe me, these ain’t rubber fuckin’ bullets! So, unless some of you want to star in a closed casket funeral, you all best go home and let this ambulance pass.” He turned to the driver. “GO!” He bellowed.

 

            The crowd gave the ambulance wide berth as it pulled forward, siren wailing, and headed off to the nearest hospital.

 

            Needless wanted to arrest all of them. They all stared at him for a moment. He knew that he couldn’t take them all out. He was a cop. He couldn’t take any of them out. He would have had longer to worry, but that was when the armored military personnel carrier hove into view.

 

            A few moments later the Governor’s Militia joined the battle.

 

*

           

            Tim Carnaby hadn’t left the lab all day. He sat eating goblin take-out with the traditional slit bottom bowl. He had learned the method from a culturally aware friend at college. Purists claimed it was the only way to eat Hot Kzeek Stew. Of course the purists had their own slit bottom bowl, a Nok bowl. Carnaby, being only a passing purist, used the cardboard one provided by the restaurant.

 

Hot Kzeek Stew was a two phase meal. The spicy stew would be poured, steaming, into the Nok bowl. The bowl would then be hoisted above the face, the head tilted back. The diner then squeezed the malleable bowl (traditionally made soft wood with a lining of a cave hog stomach) until the broth began to seep from the slit into their open mouth. The person would then slowly enjoy the broth. When the broth was done, the meats, fish and vegetables that had been steeped in the broth and strained could then be eaten from the bowl in the second phase.

 

Carnaby knew that the process wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Many a novice would squeeze too hard and get scalded by broth, or at the very least ruin their shirt. Most people gave up. Too much effort for soup. Carnaby, ever the perfectionist, made certain he was a pro. It was great soup. If nothing else, it impressed dates and gave him a reason to show off. If he ever had dates, that was.

 

He hadn’t eaten all day. He had spent the entire day analyzing evidence from Serenity, and more was due any minute. He was going to eat, dammit. He had been gorging himself on Kzeek Stew, Highland Grass noodles and Underworld Dumplings (admittedly a human concoction of blind cave fish and cabbage, but good all the same). It was the first moment’s peace he’d had in what felt like days.

 

He had just lowered the nok bowl to begin eating the stew’s fixings when his printer roared to life. He rolled his eyes. A fax. Slowly a black and white image began to emerge from the machine. The image was a close up of skin with some kind of symbol apparently burned into it.

 

He put down his food and gently lifted the picture from the tray. The phone rang.

 

“Carnaby,” he said, lifting the receiver to his mouth.

 

“Tim! It’s Stack. I’m out here in Ironton. We’ve got the truck you scoped. You were right, my man. It’s stashed at an old guy’s house here. We found the home owner folded like a wallet in a freezer with this burned into his chest. Can you find out what it is?”

 

Carnaby stared at the picture and nodded. He then realized that Stack couldn’t hear him nodding. “I’ll see what I can turn up.”

 

“I’m sure you will.” The line clicked and Tim listened to the dial tone for a moment before he hung up.

 

He reached into the bowl and popped a chunk of meat into his mouth. He sighed through bites and turned to his computer.

 

*

“It is a scene you would think came from one of the oppressive dictatorships elsewhere in the world. Tanks and soldiers patrolling the streets. Angry citizens turning on police, firemen and emergency medical workers. Innocent people being beaten, buildings burning. The frightening truth is …this is our home.

 

Early yesterday morning, an alleged vampire attack at the Serenity Club in the heart of Big City’s trendiest area claimed the lives of 178 souls and left dozens more struggling for life in area hospitals. Tonight unanswered questions, racial tension and general anger boiled over into a full blown riot which left 14 dead, hundreds wounded and a city in shock.

 

What started as a protest march from Center Park to City Hall, prompted by EVUN spokesperson, The Elfnigma, turned deadly when a live sunshine grenade was thrown into the gathering protesters. The riot began so quickly that the riot police standing by were completely unprepared and soon overwhelmed. In an unprecedented move by Governor Haljis, the Militia was soon called in to put an end to the violence.

 

The riot lasted nearly four hours before police and military were able to break up the rioters. During the four hours, Mayor Denzien and the team he has assembled to help the community in the wake of the Serenity Massacre took to the streets to help comfort the wounded and plead with ordinary citizens to stop the violence.”

 

The scene cut to Mayor Denzien standing atop a car yelling into a bullhorn.

 

“I promise you. Justice will be done. It will be swift and fair and no race will be targeted. But this fighting has to stop now!”

 

The mayor’s comments were cut off mid-sentence as the scene returned to the anchor.

 

“The Militia, local law enforcement and the mayor’s office have issued a curfew for the next 36 hours. For now Big City remains in a state of forced quiet. Fire fighters are still battling some blazes in the center of the city, but estimations of property damage during the four hours is still forthcoming. We here at BKKY will keep you up to date as…”

 

Smiles switched off the television. He leaned back against the headboard and took a long drink of whiskey. He had been put up in a hotel room for the duration of the crisis, sequestered and on call to the Mayor’s office. Outside his window, the lights of the military, police and the fires created a second daylight. He tried hard to put the events of the day out of his mind. He hadn’t slept fully in almost two days. The three or four hours of alcohol induced sleep the night before hadn’t provided any rest.

 

He stubbed out his cigarette and kicked off his shoes. He glanced at the clock. Quarter past one. He shifted and re-shifted his body until he was prone on the queen size bed. He stared at the smoke alarm light on the ceiling as it throbbed gently. He closed his eyes.

 

He thought again of his father and of Gina. He hadn’t thought about the pictures in hours. Possible proof that his sister was still alive. It raised a hope in him that didn’t sit well. He was used to being alone. His father. His mother. Gina. All gone.

 

As he exhaustion took him he thought of how proud Gina would have been of what he had done that day.  It was the sweetest thought he’d had in a very long time. An instant later, the middle-aged gumshoe let loose a snore that gave the vampire Venect, sitting in bed in the next room, reason to chuckle.

*

Stack awoke with a jolt. Callisto flashed his badge to the checkpoint guard who waved them through. The car accelerated. Stack was slumped back, nearly wedged between the door and the seat, his arms folded against his chest, sore and numb. Callisto looked over and chuckled.

 

Sunlight was beginning to stream out from the behind the mountains to the east. A wave of pain ran through Stack’s neck as he sat up in the seat.

 

“Good morning.” The pudgy detective laughed.

 

Stack peeled his tongue from the roof of his mouth and nodded slowly. “How long was I out?” He looked at his watch, which told him nothing.

 

“You went back out to the car about four to get something and I found you passed out there. You’ve been out for a couple of hours.”

 

Stack smiled. “Thanks.”

 

“No problem. I got kids. I know it’s best to let them sleep. We wrapped everything up in Ironton. They’ll be transporting the fertilizer truck to Big City in a couple of hours. Blevins’ body is already in the hands of the Ironton M.E.”

 

Stack nodded. The streets were strangely quiet. It was the weekend now, but traffic still seemed to start up about now. Then Stack began to vaguely remember getting news of the curfew. He felt hung over.  He wanted a Java Jalopy Double Shot in the worst way. He prayed she’d be out tooling the empty streets, looking for him.

 

He ran his fingers through his matted mess of hair. He needed a shower, badly. “Any word from Carnaby yet? On the symbol?”

 

Callisto shook his head. “Nothing yet.”

 

Stack could feel his gut again. That nagging itch that told him that this wasn’t a vampire attack. Something else was at work. But what? Why make it look like vampire? He knew the symbol was the key. He half closed his eyes from the glare and tried to send all his thought energies to Carnaby.

 

*

 Laura sat propped up against her headboard. Something wasn’t right, she could feel it. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was in the air. An unease was floating in this nearly perfect moment. Outside, the Big City dawn held the promise of a new day. She could smell the coffee brewing in the automatic coffee maker two rooms away. Charlie breathed gently, his head resting on her stomach. She ran her fingers through his hair and watched his head gently rise and fall with every breath she took. 

 

It was a perfect morning but there was a smudge. In the back of her mind she was uncertain. Like one of Stack’s absent-minded sculptures, on the verge of collapse for no known reason. She knew it wasn’t the Serenity Massacre. While horrible, she was fairly immune to that type of news. She had to be, it was her job.  No, there was a second shoe hanging in the air and waiting to drop.

 

She and Charlie were quickly approaching their second anniversary. Charlie had fit into all the spaces in her life that she had been unable to fill. The excitement that he and all the people this relationship had brought to her seemed to fulfill her. Her life before Charlie and Smiles and Stack and Needless had been fairly uneventful. He brought with him an energy that seemed to overtake the jaded righteousness that seemed to fill her days before. She was now a woman of action. A strikingly un-journalistic thing for a journalist to be.

 

It had almost cost her her life on several occasions. The car accident while chasing down the lake monster. The crooked cop who almost killed her and T’lea. Countless other dangers she’d started facing. She had almost lost him, too. But she found, in her heart, that she wouldn’t trade it for anything. She had a new found zest for life. All because of Charlie.

 

She wondered for a moment if she was in love with Charlie…or the life she now found herself in.

 

Laura had arrived late home. The rioters were starting to disperse. Nothing more seemed to be coming from City Hall. She called the night editor and said she was going to get some sleep. Her hands hurt from the writing she had done all day. When she had arrived home, Charlie was already there. He’d been drinking, didn’t seem to want to talk. He just wanted to be with her, to hold and kiss her. To make love. Maybe, she wondered, that was what was making her uneasy. Something was bothering Charlie and he didn’t want to tell her.

 

Charlie quivered in his sleep. Laura looked down and smiled. Then she let her head roll back onto the headboard. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the morning. She drifted back to sleep.

 

*

Needless sat alone in the booth at the Gobblin’ Goblin, watching as the Big City streets began to come to life. Life goes on, he told himself.  His coffee seemed to help maintain the adrenaline buzz from the past 24 hours. The club, the riot. He swallowed hard. Even without the riot, sleeping was not on his agenda. His gut hurt too much. He had lost the first woman he’d ever loved.

 

He looked into the gently swirling black of his coffee and thought of Sioux.

 

He had been taken off of riot duty sometime after midnight. His thoughts were filled with nothing but Sioux and the desire to make it right with her. He returned to the station, showered and rushed to Sioux’s apartment. After several knocks he had used the key she gave him.

 

The furniture was still there, but all her personal stuff was gone. Clothes, pictures, toiletries, all gone. He found a letter to him on the counter.

 

“John,  I am leaving. I know you didn’t mean for the things you said this afternoon to affect me as deeply as they did. I know you would never hurt me intentionally. The problem is, John, I have been denying who and what I am for a very long time. I didn’t want to face the fact that I am a vampire. I have struggled for a very long time to assimilate myself. To sleep in a bed rather than a box. To deny my heritage. The events of the past day have thrown that all back in my face.

 

So I am leaving. I am going to stay with family in my ancestral home. Please don’t come after me. I know you and I know your passion. I need this. I need to find who I am. Thank you for your love. “

 

Needless looked up from his coffee. His head spun from the swiftness of the end. A clean break. No chance to defend himself. No real goodbye. He thought of her tenderness after the ordeal at the clinic. The two weeks they’d spent at sea. The love they’d made. His gut twisted again. He shook it off and realized that he had bent the spoon absent-mindedly.

 

It was going to be a long day. He finished up his cup of coffee.

 

He had to find Stack.

 

*

Stack pulled the towel around his waist as he stepped from the shower. He never favored bathing at the station, but there wasn’t much else to be done. There was too much to do for him to go home. He thought of Arrow and realized that he hadn’t fed him in two days. He tried to remind himself to run home later and feed him. He stepped to his locker and began extracting a fresh set of clothes. As he slipped into his spare jeans, Breen entered and sat on the bench near him.

 

“Hey Cap,” Stack said, toweling his head again.

 

“Long couple of days?”

 

Stack chuckled. “Yeah.”

 

“So what’d you find out in Ironton?”

 

Stack sat on the bench and buttoned his shirt. “It’s a mess. If it was a vampire sect, why would they drain the blood and truck it down to Ironton? Why would they slit Blevins’ throat? And the sheer size of the attack. It’s not adding up. “

 

Breen sighed. “Well, it’s about to get a whole lot more confusing.” He held out a manila folder. Stack opened it to find crime scene photos. “These are the vamps you took a look at in the warehouse yesterday. Riddled with bullets and blasted with a sunshine grenade. We thought it was a retaliation killing for the Serenity but the M.E. said it happened before the news really started to break.”

 

Stack looked confused at the twisted bodies in the picture. “So? Drug deal? Purist blood market?”

 

Breen shook his head. “Their teeth match bites on the Serenity victims.”

 

“What?!”

 

“I had the lab boys run them just to be sure.” Breen leaned in. “But check this out.” He pulled out a close up of a tattoo. “Each one of them had this.” Stack recognized the body art.

 

“They were Viss Kvazan?”

 

“What do you know about them?”

 

“Purists, blood market hoods. We pick them up for hate crimes, vamp supremacy stuff. But it’s all penny ante shit. Vandalism. Assault. They’re on the watch list but…nothing like I saw yesterday. It’s too big. They’re small time hoods, really. Last night took planning, took money. Viss don’t have the resources.” Stack sucked a mouthful of air. “Oh…man.”

 

Breen knew the brain was on it. “What?”

 

“What if the Viss were brought in as goons?” Stack was shuffling the photos.

 

“By a larger group?”

 

“Even non-vamps. Opposite but equal motives. Another group.”

 

Breen wanted to stick his hands into Stack’s skull and massage the brain. “How would that benefit them?”

 

“Driving a wedge between vamps and everybody else always suits the Viss. They’re anarchists. Anti-vampire retaliation would feed their cause. Make them the heroes.”

 

“So what happened? Why’d they get whacked?”

 

“Double cross? They’d served their purpose and were cut loose.” He looked at Breen. “We’re dealing with some ruthless people. They’ll kill anybody. They have no regard for any kind of life. But what do they want? A political statement? Revenge? What? This was a planned, strategic attack. This wasn’t a random act of violence. This was stealthy and deliberate.”

 

Breen stood. “I need you to find out who this group is and what they want. I got a call from Bledsoe an hour ago. If we don’t have some answers in the next few hours…the Bureau is taking over.”

 

“Oh shit.”

 

“Exactly. I need some more answers by noon.” He patted Stack on the arm.

 

Stack breathed deep.

 

*

Carnaby looked at his watch. Too early. All of this…too early. His coffee steamed gently in the morning breeze. He looked again at the address. He refolded the paper and shoved it into his pocket. He bounded up the steps to the brownstone and turned the antique doorbell knob. He waited a moment, looked at his watch, reaffirmed the address and rang the bell again.

 

A moment later he was shocked by the sound of a window above him slamming violently open.

 

“What the bloody hell do you want?!?!” Came the haughty, foreign voice. Tim backed out from under the porch roof and looked up. Three stories above him a man of late middle age, salt and pepper hair tossed about on top of his head, and hand-holding a ratty terry cloth bathrobe around himself, was sticking his head out the window. He was comical looking, but furious. “So?! What do you want?”

 

“Dr. Elrich Chandler? I’m…uh…here about your web site.”

 

“Oh shit. Another role-playing idiot. Go away!”

 

“Actually. I’m a sci-fi dork. But I know a lot of gamers. My name is Tim Carnaby. I’m a forensic detective with the Police Department. I discovered your web site while investigating a piece of evidence.” The old man seemed unconvinced, but more open. Tim reached into his bag and extracted the photo that Stack had sent him. “It seems to be a brand of some sort. We discovered it burned into the chest of a murder victim. One connected with the Serenity Massacre. I found the same symbol on your web site.” He extended the picture above his head.

 

Dr. Chandler adjusted his glasses and seemed to stop breathing for a moment. He ducked back inside and the window slammed shut. Carnaby sighed. A moment later the front door opened and Tim Carnaby was invited into the first solid lead in the case so far.

 

*

Smiles took a long drag and leaned back against the marble column. Here he was, helping to save some lives at the behest of politicians, and they wouldn’t even let him smoke inside the building. Over the last few hours the militia guards had gotten to know Smiles rather well. The first couple of smokes he came down for, he was frisked and his ID checked. Now he just made the international symbol for cigarette, a two fingered “V” moved back and forth in front of pursed lips. The guards just chuckled and waved him through now.

 

“Do you have a light?” Smiles was surprised by the female voice that seemed to come out of no where. He turned. His eyes met a pair of pale green elf eyes. They twinkled. She smiled. “Sorry. I gave this up a week ago.” She chuckled. Her black hair, flecked with the blue, was cut into a bob that swayed with a fluidity as she stepped toward him. Her pant suit gave nothing away but still teased Smiles into imagining, if only for a moment.  She stopped close to him. “So, sorry, I don’t have a lighter.”

 

“Not a good week to quit.” He lit his lighter. The woman rested her wrist on his and cupped her hand to protect the flame. As she pulled gently on the cigarette with her lips, and the cherry flared, her eyes rose to meet Smiles’. His face suddenly felt to him like weather beaten leather. Like he should apologize; ‘sorry, my good face is at the cleaners, I had to throw this on.’ The woman stood up and joined him in leaning against the column. After her first drag, the woman pinched a tobacco leaf off her tongue with her thumb and pinky and flung it to the brickwork walkway. Smiles could only think one thing…’Holy shit! She’s smoking straights.’

 

“What a horrible couple of days.” She said, looking at him. He nodded. “I have barely been home in 18 hours.” She looked over and extended a hand. “Sue Bley’na. I work for the Department of Diversity.” She looked over and smiled at a passing militia guard.

 

“Robert Johnson. My friends call me Smiles.”

 

“I know who you are. Your father nearly built our department from the ground up.” She looked at him with a wry smile. “We have a conference room named after him.”

 

“He would have been proud,” Smiles chuckled.

 

“You smoke filtered?”

 

Smiles looked down at his smoke. “Yeah. I haven’t smoked straights since…I was at the academy.”

 

She turned and held out her pack. “Here take one.”

 

Smiles chuckled. “Oh! No thanks. I’m good.”

 

Her reply was slightly more emphatic than Smiles expected. “I really think you should take one. It’s going to be a long day.” The twinkle left her eye for just a moment. Smiles glanced down at the pack. There, sticking out of the pack like an offered cigarette, was a note.

 

Another guard moved past them both. Sue winked at the guard, who smiled.

 

The twinkle returned to Sue’s eyes. Smiles slipped the note out and dropped it into his own pack. “Ah! What the hell. It’s like riding a bike.” They both chuckled.

 

“Well, catch ya later.” Sue said, dropping her cigarette to the ground and crushing it under foot. Smiles watched her walk away. She was still beautiful, but now there was something else. Something dangerous. Smiles hated the fact that a hint of danger made him want her even more.

 

A couple of minutes later, Smiles stepped into the elevator, the door slid shut. He quickly unrolled the note:

 

“4^th floor ladies room. 10 minutes.”

 

Smiles returned the note to his cigarette pack.

 

*

             Charlie pulled up into the 15 minute parking outside The Herald. Laura rifled through a few things in her bag. She stopped and looked over at him.

 

            “Thanks for the ride. Will I see you tonight?” She smiled.

 

            Charlie nodded. He took a deep breath. “Kalista Danae came to see me last night.” Laura looked at him, stunned. “It shook me up a bit. That’s why I haven’t been…myself.”

 

            Laura felt a lump in her throat. “What…happened?” She feared the worst.

 

            Charlie smiled weakly. “No…I didn’t sleep with her.” Laura’s shoulders visibly eased. “She told me that she had visions that I was in danger and might…die.”

 

            The pit of Laura’s stomach dropped. It was worse than worse. “How did she…”

 

            “It has something to do with Serenity. She didn’t know what.”

 

            A panic gripped the journalist. “You have to leave town. Go get away until the whole thing blows over. That’s the deal right? She tells you because you can change things.” She caught herself. “Did you believe her?”

 

            “She believed herself. Which was enough to convince me. I just…”

 

            “Just what?”

 

            “Look I can’t hide out. Smiles needs me. Stack and Needless might need me. If I can help solve these murders…I have to try. I’ve been in danger before. I just have to be extra careful.”

 

            Laura nodded. She wished he would get out of town. Go up to the Skion valley for a week. But she knew that he was right. She felt the responsibility too. She leaned in and kissed him, hard. She wanted the kiss to go on forever. When it ended, her eyes fluttered open and Charlie’s face was out of focus through tears.

 

            “Please,” She said. “Go home and just try to stay out of trouble as best you can.”

            Charlie nodded and smiled. “I will.”

 

            Laura stepped from the car. The pit of her stomach never rose again. That was never a good sign.

 

*

            Smiles eased into the ladies room. As he stepped through the door the only sound he could hear was the echo of the hinges. He scanned for signs of life, nothing. He stepped into the room.

 

            “There’s nobody on this floor today.” Came her voice. She stepped out of the stall at the far end of the room.

 

            “No?”

 

            Sue ran her fingers through her hair and looked in the mirror. “No. This is a public floor. Marriage licenses, stuff like that. With the building shut down, this is a dead floor. “

 

            “I assume this isn’t a romantic rendezvous.” Smiles smirked.

 

            Sue looked away from her reflection, to him. She smiled wryly. “No. You seem to be the only person in this entire building that I can trust. And if not trust, at the very least, rely on.” She moved to him.

 

            Smiles’ brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

 

            “I am privy to a lot of information from a lot of sources. Something is about to happen and I can’t let it go on. “

 

            “How do I know I can believe you?”

 

            Sue held up a small shoebox. “Open it. I think this will let you know that I’m not full of shit.”

 

            Smiles put the box down on the edge of the sink. He looked back at her and then down at the box. He lifted the lid. His breath caught in his throat.

 

*

            Needless crashed into the seat across from Stack. Stack looked up from photos of Serenity. The two looked at each other for a moment.

 

            “Any headway?” Needless monotoned?

 

            “No. I’m waiting to hear from Carnaby. He’s out on something and his phone is turned off. Any sleep?”

 

            “No. Where’s Callisto?”

 

“Gone home for a bit. Checking on his kids. This is all hitting him kind of hard.”

 

There was a pause. Needless looked at his hands. “Sioux is gone.”

 

            “Gone…like…”

 

            “Gone, gone. Left town. She packed up her stuff and left. I didn’t even get a chance to say good bye.”

 

            A quiet settled over the two desks. Both men deep in thought. The moment was shattered by Stack’s phone. The detective’s hand rocketed out and snatched the receiver from the hook.

 

            “Forray.”

 

            “Stack! It’s Tim. I’ve got something. It’s huge and you’re not going to believe it. I have Dr. Elrich Chandler with me. He’s an iconologist and historian from BCU. He knows what the symbol is.”

 

            “Bring him in. We need to talk to him. Time is wasting. If we don’t have something to the commissioner in the next hour, the Bureau is taking over the case.”

 

            “Well that’s the problem. He doesn’t want to come in. Once he saw the symbol he freaked out. You have to meet us.”

 

            “Dammit!” Stack looked at his watch. “Okay. Downtown. Near City Hall. Clarence’s! That pub at the corner of Whedon and Carter. That way, if this is the information we need we can take it straight to Bledsoe.”  The two hun