it happen again.” I pulled my arm free and left the three men in my wake.
Martyr? He thought I was trying to play the hero. Well, I could assure him I wasn’t. It has never been about saving the day it has always been about a promise. Ten years ago I had made my last visit to my grandfather’s graveside. I knew he was no longer there; that to be absent with the body was to be present with the Lord. I had heard enough of his sermons to know that, but I had still needed to see where he was laid to rest one last time. On that day I made a vow, a promise that I wouldn’t rest until I rid the world of scum like Kristoff the Cruel. It was a promise I intended to keep even if it signed my death warrant.
Chapter 7:
I marched down the halls intent on getting to the bottom of whatever they were hiding from me. If they wouldn’t tell me what I wanted to know I’d find someone who would. I had an ace up my sleeve that the Council didn’t know about. All it would take was a phone call to the states and then we’d see just how deeply in the dark they could keep me.
Back in the safety of my rooms I pulled out my cell phone. I wasn’t sure if the Council tapped their phones as a safety measure, even if they didn’t, it was better to be safe than sorry. I didn’t want Josef or the Quiet Man putting me on lock down because I didn’t want to be left out of the loop.
Two rings. Three rings. Oh where the hell was my informant when I needed him? He was a stool pigeon, he didn’t get days off. Fink was in high demand, just one of the hazards of his trade. Besides, he was always poking around when I was trying to keep a low profile. Now, when I needed some info he wasn’t picking up his damn phone.
I was so frustrated right about now that I wanted to hit something. Between an overbearing werewolf, a prophecy no one wants tell me about and the Nocturns getting the upper hand, I was seriously pissed off. If that lowlife, Priest, was here right now I’d slap him silly. Or at least I’d try. Oh who the hell was I kidding? He would take one swing at me and I’d be down for the count.
“Hello.” Fink answered, breathless.
He sounded like he had just finished a ten K. Or could I have interrupted him in the middle of… eww gross don’t go there mind. Please, just don’t go there. I had enough crap I was dealing with; I didn’t need to picture my troll informant taking a roll in the hay.
“What have you been up to?”
His breathing evened out just enough for me to hear the humming of a lawnmower in the background. “Dara, that you?”
I rolled my eyes. I guess he was too busy to check the caller ID. I hoped he would be able to catch his breath after doing whatever yardwork his mother was forcing on him.
“Listen, Fink I need some info. My regular fee applies.”
In informant speak that meant depending on what he knew, he would get paid. There were no freebies between us. I didn’t want to owe Fink anything. If there’s one thing this business teaches you, it’s never owe a troll a favor. Because they just might ask you for your firstborn.
“What’ch need?” He was still huffing and puffing. Damn, he was out of shape.
“The Son of Perdition, who or what is it?”
There was a long pause on his end of the phone. The motor shut off and I could hear Fink entering his house. He mumbled something to his mother about her being the best. Then I heard the closing and locking of another door and knew that whatever he was about to tell me wasn’t going to be good.
“That’s some nasty shit you’re dealing with.”
I wanted to ask him to tell me something I didn’t already know. You see, if Kristoff and his goons were involved in this prophecy then it was going to be some dark business. I knew better than to underestimate anything the beings of the Mythos could dish out. Especially when that being was a vampire bent on death and destruction.
“Do tell?” I tried to keep the bite out of my voice.
“Now is not
Learning to Kill: Stories