Chapter 15

“We call ourselves,”  Artemvian repeated for the hundredth time, his expression serious, “the Grimms.”

No one spoke for a moment.  Artemvian turned to the side, looking out the passenger seat window of the unmarked police car.  Buildings flew by as the car picked up speed, the people becoming indistinguishable from the background as if they were just strokes of paint.  His reflection slowly turned into a smirk.

“I swear, if you-”  Celine began.

“AHAHAHA! YOU WERE SO SERIOUS! AHAHAHAHA!”  He mimed wiping a tear from his eye, one hand on his stomach.  “Is that how all the organizations in Nero City introduce themselves?  The other day, I encountered a-”

Celine slammed on the breaks as the light turned red.

Artemvian’s torso was flung forward in a mess of limbs.  Luckily the seatbelt caught him but the backlask sent Artemvian’s head flying back into his headrest.

He looked at Celine, shocked.

She looked smug.  “We’ve arrived.”  Without another word, she stepped out of the car.

“Freaking…”  Artemvian scowled, following after her.

It was a quiet neighborhood that Celine had stopped in.  Immediately, Artemvian could see that this was different from the usual hustle and bustle of Nero City.  The Apartment complex had a loftier design about them, each floor coming with its own balcony.  Almost every complex had their own greenery, almost like a garden.  One of them even had a fountain with what looked suspiciously like a sculpture of Cupid peeing into the pond.

Artemvian wandered over to the fountain, looking for but not finding a lot of passersby.  The lights here were made of bright neon street signs, but the soft glow of a lamp give off warm orange rays.  The roads had been designed to look like cobblestone, encircling the entire place.  Yet, despite all its efforts, Artemvian couldn’t shake off the feeling that this place wasn’t real.

It tried too hard to give off an aura of home –something that should remind you of your grandmother’s soup or your childhood blanket.  But when Artemvian looked hard enough, he saw the signs of Nero City hidden beneath the glamor.  The eyes in the Cupids looked a little like lenses, and Artemvian had no illusions that they were cameras.  From what Riley told him, those ‘camera’ things could be anywhere.  What he had thought were cobblestones designed to give easy access to the apartments were actually a strategic placement, meant to prevent sieges.

“You coming?”  Celine said, walking towards one of the buildings.

Artemvian hurried, catching up to her.  He zipped up his leather jacket, feeling the brisk night air feel chillier than normal.  Probably because the buildings weren’t placed as close to each other.

“What’s this place called?”

Celine didn’t answer him, walking over to an intercom and tapping her phone to it.  The automatic doors slid open, granting them entry and she led him to the elevator.  It was only once they were inside that she began to answer him.

“This neighborhood is called Japandi Street.  A lot of people live here.”

“Different from the rest of Nero City.”

She shrugged.  “People here tend to be on the wealthier side, though I wouldn’t call them rich.  I’d say comfortably upper-middle class.”

“A lot of security for the upper-middle class.”  Artemvian commented.  “Wonder what they do for a living.”

Celine didn’t answer immediately, but when she did, her voice was measured.  “Let’s just say, it’s a place that’s meant to be comfortable without drawing too much attention to it.”

“Was that a not-so-subtle hint for me to drop this topic?”

“Yes.”  She replied immediately.

Artemvian smiled and she blanched at him.  “We both know that’s not possible.”

Celine took a deep breath and then slowly released it through her nostrils, like one does when trying not to explode.  “You… I’ve known you for less than two hours and you… are absolutely infuriating.”

“Believe it or not, that’s actually part of the contract.”  Artemvian quipped just as the elevator reached the top floor.  “Jokes cost extra.”

They left the elevator and began to walk down the hall.  Artemvian looked around, seeing only one door at the end.  He whistled.

“Wow, an upper-middle class person who wants to be comfortable enough to rent out an entire floor for themselves in this fancy Japandi Street.”  He rubbed his hands together, looking gleefully at Celine.  “Can’t wait to talk to them.”

Celine turned and put a palm on the wall, blocking Artemvian’s way.  The hallway was more than wide enough for him to go around her, but he just smiled and waited.

“These apartments are places for the children of influential people to live in comfort and anonymity.  Is that enough?”

“They can’t be that rich, the really rich people live in skyscrapers.  Riley told me so.”  Artemvian drawled.  “So these apartments are for the children of the moderately rich and moderately influential… say for example… a minor politician or a gang branch head-”

“Stop talking.  Now.”  Celine said through gritted teeth.

Artemvian tried his best to look innocent.

“We’re investigating this case because supposedly, starting about a month ago, the son of an influential politician –who shall not be named, I might add– and his wife began to experience… strange phenomena.  That’s when we were called in.”  Celine explained.  “As you are probably aware, the existence of the Fringe Supernatural that does not align with mainstream beliefs of magic are kept under wraps.  The politician themselves have no idea what it is that they’re dealing with, they were simply pointed towards us.  Now, that’s all the information that I can tell you.  Happy?”

“More than happy.”  Artemvian pointed at his smile.  “See?  So happy.”

Celine turned around, muttering something suspiciously like ‘smartass’.  They walked to the door together and Celine pressed the bell.  From what Artemvian could tell, there had been no sound but there footsteps approached from the other end of the door soon after.

“Lieutenant?  That you?”  A rough voice said from the other side.

“It is.”

The door opened to reveal a skinny man wearing a black and white suit.  He had sunken eyes and sunken cheeks, telling Artemvian that he wasn’t a heavy eater.  His red hair was shaved close to his head.  The man’s green eyes glittered with suspicion when they landed on Artemvian.

And… was that a hint of Talent in the man?

“You know the rules, Lieutenant.”  He didn’t address Artemvian yet.

Celine walked through the doors and then turned, waiting for Artemvian.

Artemvian scoffed and walked through.  “Really?  Now you’re checking to see if I know about Threshold Laws?”

The man stiffened and then turned to Celine.  “Lieutenant, who is this?”

“Artemvian, meet Sergeant Turner.  Sergeant Turner, meet Artemvian.  I’m bringing him in as a Consultant on this case.”

Artemvian held out a hand but Sgt. Turner didn’t reciprocate.

“A Consultant?”  The Sergeant spoke low.  “Does the Captain know about this?”

“If he’s here, then he will.”

“We both know he’s not.”  He said, heatedly.

“Then I presume he won’t until he drags his ass down here, along with the rest of us.  Do you have a problem with my decision, Gary?”  Celine glared at Gary for a hot second and the two just seethed at each other.

Artemvian still had his hand out.  “Uh… Hello?”

They both looked at each other and Celine shook her head.  “I was attacked on the way here.  Again.  By that damned thing.”

Gary’s eyes widened in alarm.  “I told you not to go alone.”  He hissed.

“Yeah, well, Mr. Moneti here was able to chase off the damned thing.  A lot better than we could to.”  She nodded with her chin towards Artemvian.  “That was the last of the test.  He knows about Darklings, he knows about Threshold laws.  I think he could help.”

“Jesus…”  Gary ran a hand through his bristly hair, finally acknowledging Artemvian.  “You chased off a Darkling?  By yourself?”

“Your Lieutenant helped.  Mostly by staying out of the way.”

Celine glared at Artemvian then dropped it, waving a hand dismissively.  “You should know about him, he’s the Mage we’ve been keeping an eye on.”

Gary still looked suspicious but finally reached out to shake Artemvian’s hand.

“Too slow!”  Artemvian raised his hand into the air, laughing to himself.

Gary did not look amused.  Neither did Celine for that matter.

“Man, tough crowd.”  Artemvian muttered.

Gary rolled his eyes.  “C’mon, follow me.  The gang’s all here.”

Artemvian look at the surroundings.  It was all neat and tidy, with some expensive looking paintings thrown in.  Artemvian had thought that he had become relatively rich with his last payout, but this redefined his definition of rich.  Vases, statues and other decor that could only be afforded by people who didn’t care about things like price lay strewn about the halls, most of them locked away behind a display glass.  

The center of the living room was taken by a couch made of blue leather, and seated on the couch was a woman who was cleaning her gun.  In the corner of the room was a rather overweight man –a young man.  They were all dressed the same –a suit.

“Who’s the newbie?”  The woman sitting on the couch said.  In front of her, she had laid out different parts of her gun and was examining and cleaning each piece.

“Artemvian Delaceau Moneti.  Temporary Consultant at your service.”  Artemvian did a bow.

The woman slowly looked up.  She had pink hair that ended at the back of her neck, tied in a neat ponytail.  Her eyes were the same shade of soft pink.  Whether through genetics or some superficial modifications, her lips were the same color as well.  “This is the guy that the Bureau told us to keep an eye on.  The Mercenary in town.”

“I’ve hired him to help us with this case.”  Celine answered on his behalf, walking over to the couch and plopping donw on it.  Her tanned skin was a stark contrast to the woman with pink hair.  Where Celine was built like a sprinter, the other woman was lean and lithe.

Still, the woman’s eyes were no less dangerous.

“Ashley Layman.”  The woman introduced herself and promptly dismissed Artemvian from her awareness, returning to the gun.

The overweight young man by the corner drifted over, offering a hand.  He was sweating and dabbed at it with a handkerchief with his other hand.  “Cotner Gurns.”

“Interesting name.”  Artemvian noted.

“Most people just call me Cots.”

Artemvian smiled.

Every single of them, except Celine, had a hint of talent.  Artemvian imagined it as a ‘hint of talent’ because in his senses, they registered as specks.  Something minor, perhaps one could see one-second into the future or be able to move faster than the average person.

Or it could be that they were actually able to hide their auras from him, which hinted at a Talent which made them much more formidable than he believed.

He hoped it was the latter.

“I have a question.”  Artemvian said while the others were measuring him up.

“Ask away.”  Celine said.

“You told me this Daemon came into town a week ago, but the Clients–”

“Ugh.  He said Clients.  Mercenaries.”  Gary whispered.

Ignoring him, Artemvian continued.  “–but the Clients have been experiencing Supernatural Phenomena for a month.  How is that possible?”

“The couple lived at a different place and moved into this place last week.  Right around then, the killings began.”  Celine answered.

“That makes no sense.”  Artemvian said.

The four of them looked at each other.

“Explain.”  Ashley put down the gun piece.

“Well, before I do, let me ask you a question.  Before the couple moved, were there similar occurrences at their previous residences?  Families being murdered?  And if there were, why isn’t this couple being murdered?”

Gary answered him.  “We already checked, but this is Nero City.  People die everyday.  It’s hard to pin down some killings to a Darkling.  For all we know, it could’ve been killing homeless people, people that we can’t account for.”

“Then if this Daemon is a killer, why didn’t it kill this couple yet?”

“Because…”  Cotner began, then looked at the others for advice.  None came forward.  It was painfully obvious that not only was Cotner the youngest one in the group, but was out of his depth.

Ashley answered him.  “Because it doesn’t want to.”  She said it with a straight face.

“Or we’re dealing with two Daemons.”  Gary muttered darkly.  “Shit, why didn’t we think of that before?”

“Because we were too busy trying to hunt it down and subdue it, while playing protection duty to the couple.”  Celine swore in spanish.  “But we should’ve realized, if it meant to hurt the couple, the Darkling would’ve done so already.  Damn, how did we not catch that.”

“Because it didn’t want you to.”  Artemvian said simply.

All four eyes were on him.

“I don’t know how extensive your experience with Daemons are, but from how Celine handled the situation, you’re not too well-versed with them.”

Celine narrowed her eyes.  “Continue.”

“First thing you need to get through to your head, is that they’re smart.  Sinister and cruel, predatory, yes.  But they’re not dumb.  They don’t run on instinct like a Werewolf or a Ghoul, and they definitely don’t have the limitations of a Vampire.  It seems like you guys have some idea of how to deal with it, using Threshold Laws as your first defense.”  Artemvian paused, then continued, “But this thing is already haunting the couple… which means that it was already invited a month ago when the first Haunting started.  Perhaps even longer than that.”

“It’s already here."