The Silver Stag Page 12

  I looked around, blinking in the relatively bright light. We were in a parking lot, right next to the docks. Another hundred yards and we would have ended up in the water.

  “Why couldn’t we just drive down here in the first place?”

  He gave me a sour look. “Two reasons. Herne told us to take the long way, for all the good it did. As to the second reason, look around and answer your own question.”

  I glanced in the direction he had indicated. The streets were all blocked off, with heavy road work being done. In fact, I couldn’t see the end of the detour.

  “Where we parked at the market is about as close as you can get to this area without walking all the way. And if you look at the pavement here? At the panel we came through?”

  I glanced down and realized that I could no longer see it. “Illusion?”

  “I don’t know if it’s magic or whether it’s just damn good engineering, but it’s almost impossible to find the entrance from the outside unless you know exactly where it is. The vampires have managed to make it almost impossible to enter the catacombs unless you know their secret handshake, so to speak.”

  I folded my arms across my chest, turning away from the blowing rain. In Western Washington, it rained about nine months out of the year. Not every day, of course, but we had enough drizzle and sputter interspersed with the driving rain that our reputation for cloudy weather was well-deserved.

  Puget Sound extended deep into Western Washington, coming in off the Straits from the Pacific Ocean. The waves were choppy today, whipped by the wind into a frothy mix of water and foam. I noted that the dock we were standing on was on Pier 67C. There were no boats currently at the dock, though a reader board said that a barge from China was due in later in the evening. Dockworkers were scrambling, getting ready for the impending offload.

  “So where were the bodies found?”

  Vik nodded over his shoulder. “Follow me.” He led me to a place about three yards away, behind a series of dumpsters. “They were found here, sprawled on the ground.”

  I looked down. Although the rain had washed a great deal of the chalk away, I could still see the outlines of where the bodies had been. Apparently the police had started an investigation, even though the medical examiner had nixed the idea of homicide. There were dried stains on the pavement, and I knelt, placing my hand in a puddle next to one of the splatters. I tuned in to the water as it caressed my fingertips.

  Tell me, I thought, reaching out to touch the essence of the rain. Tell me what you taste.

  The wind picked up, gusting around me, as a large wave crashed over the side of the dock, spraying both Vik and me. I could feel the nature of the elemental behind it as it responded to my call. The ocean was a goddess, and Puget Sound a part of her. She surrounded the world, massive and huge, older than the land, older than humanity, older than most anything on the face of the planet. I slid into her cadence, feeling the way it rocked back and forth within me, within my veins, my tears, my soul.

  A moment later, the image of blood spread through my mind, and I caught a visual of the mangled bodies as they were dropped onto the pavement, the rain washing over them and onto the ground below. I tried to see what was holding them, but the rain hadn’t noticed their attacker, only the bodies as they fell into the puddles.

  “I think they were dead when they were dropped here. They weren’t killed here.” I glanced up at Vik, wishing I could have seen more.

  “How do you know?” He cocked his head, watching me.

  “I’m one of the Water Fae by blood—half, anyway. My mother was Water Fae. She was pledged to Morgana.”

  “So you’re a siren? One of the undines?”

  “No, the sirens and undines, along with the naiads, are actually elementals. The Water Fae are connected with the element of water, but we aren’t actually part of it. I can tune into rain and lakes and rivers and oceans—and I can use some of their inherent magic, but I’m not actually a part of them, like an elemental is. But if there are any water elementals nearby, I can usually contact them as well.”

  “Good to know,” he said. “So you think the bodies were just dumped here?”

  “I know so. They were dead when they hit the ground. If there had been a struggle, I would have sensed it through the moisture that’s still on the ground here. I’m not sure where they were killed, but it wasn’t right here.”

  “The dockworkers are leery. You can tell by the way they’re moving.” Vik pointed to a couple of the nearby men, who were working quickly, glancing over their shoulders at us. “They’re nervous.”

  “If I knew three bodies were found, mutilated, near where I worked, I’d be nervous too. Has the garbage been emptied since the bodies were found?” I was thinking we might find something in the dumpster.

  “Yeah. In fact, my notes say that the garbage men made a special run the next morning. Which tells me that there may have been something in there they were trying to cover up.”

  “Is there anything else we can learn? Should we question the workers over there?”

  Vik shook his head, staring at the men. “If they know anything, they aren’t going to tell us. Come on, I think we’ll have better luck at the park.”

  “Do we have to go back through the tunnels? I’d almost rather walk in the rain than do that.”

  “From your mouth to my legs. Let’s go. We’ve got a bit of a hike given the slope of the streets. But I’d rather walk too.”

  As we headed back to the car, hiking up the steep city streets, I thought about the catacombs. I had never known they were so extensive; it was simply a fact that had never crossed my radar. But now it made me nervous to think about the vampires roaming beneath the city streets. And if there was one entrance secreted out of sight, how many more were there, and how far did the network of catacombs run?

  RATHER THAN BOTHER with the freeway, we took Holgate Street over to Beacon Avenue, which we followed until we could turn left onto Orcas Street. From there it was a straight shot all the way to Lake Washington Boulevard, which led into Seward Park.

  Adjacent to Lake Washington, like a mini peninsula, the park housed three hundred acres of forest. Sheltering wildlife and waterfowl, it offered easy access to the shoreline. Directly across from the park, attached to the Eastside by a bridge, Mercer Island loomed in the middle of the lake. An exclusive neighborhood, the population was mostly human—nouveau rich. The I-90 freeway ran through Seattle, over a floating bridge to Mercer Island, and then over another bridge to the Eastside.

  I had been to Seward Park a number of times. It was soothing to walk among the trees, out of the city grit.

  “How many bodies were found here?” I asked, hating to think that violence had spread into a place that I loved.

  “Six. Half of the victims. According to Herne’s notes, they were found after the other six, which tells me that whoever killed them decided he needed a safer dumping ground.”

  “Yeah, because by then, the other dump site was being watched.”

  “All the bodies here were found down near Seward Park Road, on the Cutlass Trail. It’s one of the lesser-used hiking trails—”

  “I know it. I’ve walked it many times. I come here a lot, Vik. I can think here.”

  We took Seward Park Road, parking in the lot near the center of the park. The rain had eased off by the time we arrived and I was grateful that we wouldn’t be bombarded by the weather.

  “We’ll have to walk a little bit. I hope you don’t mind.” Vik locked the car and motioned for me to follow.

  “I’m used to it.” I jammed my hands in my pockets, following him across the trail into the forest. We passed the Broken Tree Trail, finally coming to the Cutlass Trail. It was steeper than the others, and it wasn’t kept up. Well, compared to the rest of the park.

  Once we were on the trail, I realized that my size was a definite benefit. While Vik was strong and muscled, he was definitely not light on his feet. I scr
ambled up the steep trail well ahead of him, not realizing I had left him behind till I got near the top. I turned around, and saw him struggling up between the trees. By the time he reached me, he was panting.

  “Ogres don’t make good climbers,” he said.

  “I thought ogres mainly lived in the mountains and that’s what they do—climb with the goats.”

  “You’re thinking about giants. Ogres are not the same. People mix us up all the time and it annoys the fuck out of me.”

  “All right, you’re not a giant. But don’t ogres live in the mountains?”

  “Ogres tend to live underground. Or in caves. My father’s family happens to live near Mount Rainier, but not way up the mountain. There’s a trail up to the cave system they live in.”

  He seemed rather touchy about the subject, so I decided to leave it alone. I wasn’t sure what the difference between ogres and giants were, but it might be a good idea to find out so I didn’t make the same mistake twice.

  I looked around. We were near the trailhead, and like most of the woods around Western Washington, the ground was a mass of forest detritus: fallen leaves, fir and cedar needles, old pinecones, mushrooms, sodden bark, as well as the burgeoning plants of the spring. All in all, our forests were a tangle to get through and it was easy to sprain an ankle if you weren’t watching where you are going.

  “So, you said there’s an entrance to the catacombs near here?” I was doing my best to look for anything that could be construed as an entrance, but I had no clue what to look for.

  “This way.”

  Vik led me across the trail to where a small stream burbled along through the forest, curving to flow parallel to the trail and down to the lake. Before the stream turned, it was buttressed by a narrow walkway that led to an outcropping of boulders.

  Vik scrambled across them, doing his best to avoid falling in the water.

  I followed. Just beyond the boulders, I saw what looked to be a lightning-scarred tree trunk. It was a good five feet wide.

  Vik stopped beside it. He reached into one knothole that was as big as his fist, and I heard a small click. The front of the tree trunk split open as a small door on hinges slowly swung back. He nodded for me to look inside. Hesitantly, I crept forward and peeked down into the tree trunk. A ladder led down, on a slant, in a narrow metal shaft.

  “Wow. They really go out of their way to make these things invisible. So this shaft leads… Where?”

  “It leads to a tunnel that goes beneath the stream, and that tunnel leads to a passageway that goes all the way back to the catacombs. It stretches under South Seattle, with a number of offshoots leading into other areas that the vampires have mined out over the years.”

  “Just how many vampires are in Seattle?” The amount of work gone into creating the catacombs seemed monumental.

  “Probably not more than five or six hundred. However, you have to remember that vampires are extremely strong, their stamina is amazing, they don’t need to breathe so they don’t have to come up for air, and they have a lot of time on their hands when they’re underground. Think about it. They have the entire day to work belowground. Just because they can only come out at night doesn’t mean that they sit around playing poker all day.”

  “I can’t imagine that the city officials approve.”

  “The city officials don’t have much to say about it. I’m sure the vampires use their financial connections as leverage. The mayor’s not going to argue with the people who pay for his campaign.”

  I was beginning to realize just how little control humans had in this world. It seemed like everybody had their fingers in the pie. Pull on one end and you’d find another.

  “So where were the bodies found?”

  “Just below the trailhead, over beneath that cedar.” He pointed over to a large cedar near the stream. “They were found over a period of twelve days, one every two days. Before that, the other six bodies were found one every three days.”

  “So whatever it is, it’s escalating. When was the last body found?”

  “Last night. That’s when the informant talked to Herne and we got called in. Didn’t you read the dossier?” Vik gave me a look like I had farted or something.

  “I looked it over, but I was kind of busy figuring out what the hell I’m supposed to be doing.” I glanced around. “Why haven’t they closed off the trailhead? If the last six bodies were found here, you’d think they would steer people away from the area.” I paused, suddenly aware of a faint scent that seemed out of place. “Hold on, I smell something.”

  I closed my eyes, raising my nose to the wind. There was a scent of something boggy, almost fetid, like vegetables left too long in the refrigerator. It made me nervous, and I realized that I had goose bumps all over my arms, even though I had my jacket on.

  “There is something here that makes me uneasy. I’m not sure what it is, but alarm bells are going off really loud right now.”

  “Is it near here now? Are we in danger?” Vik glanced around, his hand on his dagger.

  I tried to tune in as best as I could. The scent was cloying, but it was fading rather than growing stronger. I realize that the wind had blown a gust past me from the south, beyond the stream. I shut the door on the trunk and scrambled over the top of the blasted tree.

  Once on the other side, going was more difficult. My footing was precarious, the rocks covered in slippery moss. I was holding on to the side of the embankment as I jumped from stone to stone, trying to keep from falling into the stream. The slope was getting steeper, and the rocks fewer and farther between. I would either have to follow from the cliff above, or jump down into the water and wade upstream. I glanced back at Vik, who was watching me carefully.

  Turning back to the water, I tuned in, listened to it as it cascaded along.

  It whispered to me, asking me if I would follow it upstream a ways. There was a sadness to it, a melancholy feeling that made me want to cry.

  Finally, I eased my way down into the water and, knee-deep, pushed against the current, slogging over the slippery rocks in the streambed. I had only gone a few feet when I noticed something ahead, lodged against the side of the embankment. Whatever it was, it sparkled in a sudden spate of sunlight that burst through the forest, slicing through the clouds.

  Taking a good look around to make certain nothing was waiting to pounce on me, I followed the water over to the sparkling item. I found myself staring at a necklace, the chain of which had been broken. I slowly reached for the pendant, and as my hand met the water to scoop up the necklace, a shriek ran through me as sure as if I had heard it aloud. I let out a shout and stumbled back, surprised by the sudden pain that accompanied the cry.

  “Are you all right?” Vik called.

  I glanced up. He had followed me along the top of the embankment, and was leaning over to look down. About eight feet above me, he looked ready to jump over the edge if I needed help.

  “I’m okay. I found something and I think it belonged to one of the victims.” I pocketed the necklace, then looked around to see if I could see anything else. There was nothing in sight, and the odor I had smelled earlier had vanished.

  I looked upstream, wondering how far the creek actually went. Twenty yards ahead, it seemed to disappear into the side of the slope. I closed my eyes picturing where we were in the park and figured that the stream must feed into the park from one end of Lake Washington and then trickle down back into another part of the lake. Wondering what we were getting involved with, I turned around and headed back toward the trail, motioning for Vik to meet me there.

  Chapter 8

  BY THE TIME we got back to the Wild Hunt, it was nearing six. Angel had settled into her station. She had bought a bouquet of flowers for the end table, the magazines were all new and up to date, neatly stacked on the end table. And her desk looked like somebody was actually working there. She was poring through a file when Vik and I trailed into the room. When she saw us, she l
ooked relieved.

  “Herne and Yutani got back about ten minutes ago. Herne asked me to tell you to go back to the break room when you got here. I’ll be there in a minute.” For the first time in a while, she seemed relaxed.

  “Getting familiar with your job?” I asked, heading down the hallway.

  “Actually, I am. And I think going to enjoy it, sans the part where we look at pictures of dead bodies.” She picked up her tablet and a notebook and put out the sign that said, please ring for service.

  Viktor motioned for us to go in without him. “I’m going to stop at the bathroom first.”

  Angel and I headed into the break room where Herne and Yutani were discussing something. Talia was tapping away on a laptop. They all looked up as we entered the room.

  “Viktor will be here in a moment. He stopped at the restroom.” I realized suddenly how I looked, soaked up to my thighs from the stream and grunged up with mud, dirt, and dust. But there was no time to change.

  Herne stared at me, his lips crooked into a smile. “You look like you’ve seen some action today,” he said, arching his eyebrows. There was something sensuous about the way he spoke, and the way he looked at me. Either that or it had just been way too long since I’d had sex.

  “I decided to go swimming. The water’s nice and cold, if anybody wants to know.” I pulled out a chair and slid into it, shivering. I’d kept warm while I was on the move, and in the car the heater had dried me out some, but now I felt chilled. “Any way to turn up the heat in this joint?”

  Herne shook his head. “I got the rent so low on this building because I agreed to keep utilities within a certain range. But if you’re cold, we do have a shower and you can heat up that way. I don’t think we have any spare clothes that will fit you, though.”