Ghosts of Atlantis (Immortal Montero Book 3) Page 10

  Seven bikes stood around the room amid the tools, benches, and machines: two Indians, a black Harley Davidson Softail, a Triumph Daytona in blue-and-white, two custom racers, and a fiery red Ducati. A key jutted from each ignition. I was thinking I might have to grab a Ducati when my phone vibrated again and played the two musical alerts. I checked the message.

  EMF Event Video Capture Ready. PRESS BLUE BUTTON FOR GPS TRIANGULATION

  The display switched to analysis mode. Preston’s app glowed as a colorful series of oscillating columns. I pressed the flashing blue button in the bottom corner. Half of the display became a detailed ranging indicator. The bar measuring proximity stretched across the phone, indicating the event was close. Range less than ten meters at two-three-six degrees.

  The technical data stream scrunched and the space below showed Preston’s direct number with a red “CALLING” message next to it. After two seconds, that info disappeared and the data expanded to fill the screen again. “SPEAKER ON” flashed briefly, immediately followed by the sound of an answered phone. I didn’t have to do a thing.

  “Yeah, boss?” Preston said.

  “Your app has detected one of these EMF events.”

  The sound of something falling came through the speaker. “Ha! What’d I tell you?”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Hold on.” I held on. “Yes, we’re receiving the data stream. Can you get a visual on it?”

  “Proceeding,” I told him, leaving the dining room, my shoes clicking on the hard floor, the sound of my steps deadened when I entered a carpeted hallway. “Any idea what we’re measuring?”

  “This is incredible,” Preston whispered, wonder in his voice. Then louder, “Where the hell are you?”

  “A Studio City residence. Talk to me, Mr. Preston.”

  “These readings indicate you are near a hyperdimensional intersection.”

  “You mean one of your doorways to another universe?” My pulse rose.

  “That’s right. You must be near a contact point between parallel realities.”

  “Is it safe to traverse?”

  “Unknown,” he said. “I wouldn’t try it. Sebastian, we need to get a team in there—”

  “We can’t. This is the home of a murder victim. Hamilton is getting a warrant to search the place right now. Have you received the evidence file on the burning murder in Van Nuys?”

  “Running a background check on Spellman now. I notice he has a Studio City address.”

  “Yes.”

  “I could have our guys there in fifteen minutes! We could—”

  “Shhh!” I hissed at him. Light spilled through a doorway at the end of the hall, raised voices from within clearly audible. I pricked my ears and held my breath.

  “No, Aliena, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marcus said.

  “Let her go!” Ron’s voice. “If she doesn’t come back, at least we won’t have to kill her!”

  Kill her?

  “We’re not killing anyone,” Rachella said.

  “She’s dangerous,” Ron shot back. “Darius warned us Morgan had found the ring and that she would come for it. She used Carmen to kill Theo and Mark. And now Darius is gone, too.”

  “Are you worried you may be next?” Rachella asked.

  “Yes, I am,” Ron told her.

  I crossed the remaining distance to the door in two strides and stepped into the room. The four vampires didn’t react to my appearance. They had been able to smell me as soon as I walked into the house, and could have listened to my entire conversation with Preston.

  The phone’s screen switched to a camera view. A flashing red dot in the corner warned me the device was recording visually. I turned to the left, following the arrow, which glowed solid green as soon as the lens faced the far wall.

  A section of that wall, seven feet wide and stretching from floor to ceiling, glowed with a soft metallic light. The surface resembled a sparkling blue gel, undulating with tide-like ripples.

  Marcus stood several paces away from the glowing mass, his hand on Aliena’s arm. Ron stood behind them. Rachella sat on the edge of a large oak executive desk, legs crossed. Preston could not see them.

  I watched the radiant anomaly. A tiny, bright flash occurred near the center of the phenomenon.

  “Look at that!” Preston enthused over the speaker. “Sebastian, as far as I know, no scientific team has ever studied an interdimensional event. We need to record this with our best equipment. Your device can only give us a fraction of the information we—”

  “The police will be here soon,” I interrupted. “We can’t afford to leave fingerprints or get caught in the house.”

  “They’ll never know we were there,” Preston fumed. “We can—”

  “No.”

  He cursed.

  Explanation was impossible, but I felt the man’s pain. Theoretical physics was one of his pet hobbies. This interdimensional access point offered an unprecedented opportunity for scientific observation. If not for the presence of the vampires, I would never have allowed the chance to pass.

  I could feel the disapproval radiating toward me, growing with each passing moment. I was sure Marcus and Ron would prevent any team of mine from gaining access to the phenomenon tonight. Since I wanted their cooperation—and did not want any of my technical people drained of blood—I had to deny Preston’s request.

  “Why the fuck not? Sebastian—”

  The phone was yanked from my hand. Ron ended the call and began pressing the display, presumably erasing my recording of the phenomenon.

  “If it was possible,” I told him, “I would take you to task for your lack of manners.”

  He laughed. “Yes, so many things one might do. If only they were possible.”

  Rachella sashayed over, plucked the phone out of his hands.

  “He’s right, your lack of manners is appalling,” she told him, handing the phone to me. “Sebastian was obviously ending the conversation.”

  “The conversation had gone on too long already, little lady.”

  A resounding SLAP-CRACK filled the room, accompanied by Ron’s Ray-Bans flying off his face and hitting the back wall. I hadn’t seen Rachella move, though it was obvious she had.

  “I am not your little lady, priest,” she said, facing Ron. “Understand?”

  He looked vulnerable without the glasses, his large blue eyes blinking. “Yes, I understand,” he said.

  “Goody.”

  This obviously wasn’t the first time Ron had called her little lady.

  Rachella returned to the desk and floated back to her sitting position, arms crossed over her chest. Ron walked to the back of the room and picked up his sunglasses. When he put them on, the Ray-Bans hung slightly askew, the left lens starred.

  “How old was Darius?” I asked Marcus.

  “I’m not certain.”

  I stared. He stared back. You can’t out-stare a vampire, so I broke the contact.

  “Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” I gestured at the wall. “How did that get there?” I asked, looking in Rachella’s general direction. No one answered. I directed my next question to Marcus.

  “Do you know who…controls this?” Ron had said someone named Morgan was after the Apollo Ring, which explained why Darius, one of the protectors of the ring, had been targeted.

  “That is difficult to explain.”

  “Try me,” I said, purposely not gritting my teeth. This continuous stonewalling filled me with an irritated impatience, exacerbated by Aliena’s continued lack of interest.

  “This is none of his business,” Ron said, giving Rachella an obstinate glance. “He shouldn’t even be here.”

  “I am offering my assistance as a highly interested party,” I told him.

  “We don’t need your help.”

  “I guess you didn’t hear me,” I said, furious, not trying to hide my anger any longer. “Highly interested.”

  “What were you doing with you
r phone?” Marcus asked.

  “One of my company’s experimental apps detected an Electromagnetic Field event and became a compass, pointing me toward this room.” I decided not to mention the app had also transmitted the session, and that Preston had the readings for analysis. I thought it might upset them to hear that. Besides, turnabout was fair play. “According to Mr. Preston, this is an interdimensional intersection.”

  No one commented.

  “Aliena?” I asked, perturbed by her mesmerized stillness. “What is it?”

  “A door,” she whispered, misunderstanding my question.

  “A door to where?”

  “A place...” Her voice rose. “It’s so hot there.”

  “It’s okay. Aliena?”

  “The priests want to burn me!” She began to shake. Marcus stood in front of her, blocking her view of the flowing gel. He took her elbows, forcing her to look up at him.

  “Aliena?” he said, his voice soft.

  She continued to tremble, her eyes focused on something we could not see.

  “Aliena,” he said again.

  She blinked, focused on Marcus’s face.

  “Are you back with us?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Would you like to go outside for a bit of fresh air?”

  After taking a shuddery breath, Aliena nodded. “Yes, please.”

  With a glance at me, Marcus led her out. That Aliena wanted Marcus with her at a time like this hurt deeply. He loved her, too, so I knew he would protect her, but watching over her was my privilege.

  I turned to Rachella. “Do you know if Aliena and Darius knew each other?” At the execution, Aliena had hardly glanced at Darius. I did not get the impression they were acquainted, or had met before.

  “I’ve never seen them together.”

  “They didn’t know each other,” Ron said. “Darius didn’t have many friends. None of the acolytes do.”

  The monks protecting the Apollo Ring had apparently become pariahs, untouchables, separated not only from humanity, but also their fellow vampires, because they guarded an executioner’s weapon.

  “Who is Morgan?” I asked him.

  He walked across the carpet. Before he passed me, he bumped my shoulder hard enough to make me stumble, and left the room. Moments later, the sound of the garage door opening preceded the deep throaty rumble of the Harley’s engine coming to life. A roar filled the house, ricocheting off the walls. The sound reached a crescendo as Ron accelerated the bike out of the room. The thunder faded slowly, the growl of the Harley’s exhaust audible from blocks away.

  Rachella had fallen to gazing at the phenomena with the same expression Aliena had—as if hypnotized by the churning blue gel.

  “Who is Morgan?” I asked her.

  Without looking at me, she said, “How did it feel to watch Aliena walk out of here with Marcus?”

  She could be vicious.

  When I didn’t answer, she turned to me. “Was it painful, Sebastian? Did it hurt?”

  I moved past her to the desk, sat in the high-backed leather chair. The computer displayed a screensaver. The taskbar showed no active programs. The desktop contained a single icon: a blue trident inside a triple circle. The image had become a familiar one.

  Little black bats fluttered around the perimeter. Before I touched the mouse, I glanced at the time in the bottom right corner. The computer had gone into suspense at 3:36.

  I opened the control panel and clicked the dialogue box for the display, checked the screensaver. The bats were scheduled to fly any time the mouse remained idle for fifteen minutes. That meant the last time someone had interacted with this system was 3:21—about ninety minutes ago. Our naked witness had called the station at 2:54 a.m., putting Darius’s TOD at about 2:50. That gave the murderer plenty of time to travel from the murder scene to here, if this was his destination.

  A wireless speaker shaped like a champagne flute sat on the desk, a blue light blinking on top.

  “Rachella? Can you hear anything from that speaker?”

  She glanced at it. “No.”

  I pulled a flash drive from my pocket, inserted it into a USB port on the computer. The pre-programmed device downloaded the hard drive’s files in seconds. Pocketing the drive, I wondered if it would merely duplicate the files Darius had already given me.

  The computer case shone silver, shaped like a cushion. For a moment, I wondered why it looked strange. Then I realized the machine had no cords leading to or from it.

  Marcus’s voice filtered into the room. “Are you sure you want to see it again?”

  “I apologize for my behavior earlier,” Aliena answered. “I was surprised, that’s all. Truly.”

  Moments later, the two of them were among those present. Aliena glanced at Rachella and me, turned to the oscillating liquid wall. Marcus stood several paces behind her.

  I watched Marcus. “Is there anything special about Darius of which you are aware?” I asked him.

  “It will be necessary to review this situation before I can disseminate information of a sensitive nature.”

  “That sounded like a big yes.”

  “This is not a police matter, Sebastian.”

  I was being told to mind my own business. And he was right that this situation did not fall under LAPD’s purview. After all, what crime had been committed? Perpetration of an illegal bonfire? You can’t murder a man who’s already dead.

  “If I can assist in any way…”

  “I appreciate the offer.”

  He knew I intended to continue the police investigation, and to look into the matter privately.

  “Any idea where this doorway leads?” I asked.

  “Yes. Your technology is impressive,” he said.

  “Are you going to answer my question?”

  “In time.”

  “Must we do it this way?”

  “Give me until tonight,” he said, unbending. “I need to speak to several people first. I would like your help, Sebastian.”

  He would certainly want to know what I discovered while he slept.

  The four of us regarded the shifting blue gel section of wall.

  Darius must have traveled through this doorway to whatever world lay beyond. What had he done there? Had he known people in the parallel reality? Someone had interacted with his computer after his death, presumably the last person to travel through the portal.

  Was Darius’s murderer standing on the other side?

  Chapter 18

  Saturday, February 14, 5:16 a.m.

  “Until this evening,” Marcus said. He nodded at Aliena and disappeared. Rachella also exited, giving me a hard look.

  “I should go too,” Aliena said.

  I glanced at my watch. The sun set at 5:36 today. Twenty minutes away.

  She held a small key on a fob.

  “Is that for the Ducati?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you plan to take it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you remember how to ride a motorcycle?”

  “Seeing these bikes gave me flashes of being on one, feeling the handle grips as I shifted gears. When I stood next to the Ducati, I realized I knew everything about the vehicle. How did you know I picked that one?”

  “That’s easy. You like your vehicles fast and flashy. You destroyed a yellow McLaren F1, flipping it at 187 miles per hour. I only had the car for three weeks.”

  She looked away, trying to hide a smile. We remained silent for a few awkward moments.

  “Aliena, I need to talk to you.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Where are you going to sleep today?”

  Surprised, she said, “That is none of your concern.”

  I couldn’t think of a thing to say. It was true that before she lived with me, she never told anyone where she spent the day. That was ancient history, though. She had spent the last month with me, in the room I had secretly fortified for her. Just when I thought we had decided to spend eve
ry night together, my fiancée had no intention of coming home at all.

  “Someone may have tried to kill you,” I said, going over the same argument—the theory no one seemed to take seriously. “Someone did kill a vampire tonight. You must be careful.”

  “Do you think these events are connected?”

  “No, not at all. And in my opinion, that makes the situation even more dangerous. There could be more than one person out there hunting your kind.”

  She watched me, her brown eyes thoughtful. “You do care for me, don’t you?”

  “My darl—sorry. I love you more than anything in the world. May I ask what you did with my ring?”

  She pulled it out of her jacket pocket. “It’s very beautiful.”

  I waited for her to hand it back to me. When she did not, I said, “Not as beautiful as the woman to whom it was given.”

  She glanced at me shyly, returned the bauble to her pocket. The significance of the gesture startled me.

  “How do you feel?” I asked. “Are you remembering more?”

  She stepped closer. Large brown eyes regarded me, the whites porcelain after her drink at 49, lips artfully curved.

  “There is something about you,” she said. “A feeling I didn’t notice before.” Her eyes wide, she asked, “Are we lovers?”

  “We have had sex once, but that hardly counts. We were both emotionally drained.”

  She lowered her gaze to my collar. “So you were…you were…”

  “Your first? Yes.”

  As incredible as that must have sounded to a girl who had been celibate for three centuries, she seemed to accept my statement.

  “Do you allow me to drink from you?”

  Her presence intoxicated me as always, the smell rising from her clothes and skin an irresistible perfume. “As much as you like.”

  Embers burned in her pupils, and her canines lengthened. She found my scent tantalizing as well, but the way a wolf enjoys a whiff of cooking meat, not a lover inhaling the bouquet of her partner. “You smell wonderful. I remember your blood is more delicious than anything I have ever tasted.”

  “Yes, you have mentioned that before.”

  She smiled and moved forward, her nose close to mine. “May I?”