Chapter 14

“I think you’re being Haunted.”

Artemvian took a moment to get a better look.  This time, his intent wasn’t just to admire her figure.  No, Artemvian was very specific in what he scanned for.  He studied her as a Mage would, searching for potential signs of danger.  He looked for metallic-seams that might be invisible to the ordinary eye, listening for any sound of gears whirring as she shifted her stance, tilting her hip and putting one hand on the side.  

He looked into her brown eyes, trying to focus on what she was saying.

Those sweet, luxuriously decadent, chocolatey, dark brown-

“-explain.”  Celine finished.

“Huh?”  Artemvian, Master of Mind and Will, said right back.

Without hesitation, Celine’s hand grabbed onto his forearm with unbelievable speed.  The grip was an iron vice, hinting at some Cybernetic Enhancements at work here.  But it wasn’t the fact that she got a grip on him so easily that alarmed him.  It was the fact that he didn’t see it coming.

There had been zero choice for him in the matter.

Until now, Artemvian had been looking down on these Cybernetic Enhancements.  Until now that is.  Now he had to ask the question, was there a possibility that Cybernetics could overcome magic?  Better yet, could these Enhancements improve the human body to a point where it could overpower his own expertise with magic and the plethora of battle experience he had?

It was a sobering thought.

“I said I’m going to need you to explain.”

“Uh… shouldn’t your first order of business be checking to see if he’s still alive?”  Artemvian gestured towards the fallen man.

Celine cursed in a language unfamiliar to Artemvian.  It sounded strangely similar to latin.  She walked over to the man.  But even without getting closer, Artemvian knew the man had lived.  The possession had been relatively short and his chest was rising and falling in slow rhythm.  Still, Celine bent down to check the man’s pulse anyways, keeping an eye on Artemvian.

“Check his pupils.”  He said.

Celine puased, then swept her hands slowly, checking the man’s pupils.

“Blood-red, yes?”

Hesitantly, she nodded.

“Now check the back of his throat.  You might be able to see some kind of black rot at the back of his throat.  Don’t worry though, he won’t choke on it.”  Upon seeing her hesitate, Artemvian rolled his eyes.  Walking over, he kneeled next to her and held open the man’s windpipe for her to see.

True to his words, there was some kind of gooey black substance caught in the back of the man’s throat.  But even as they watched, it began to shrink away from Celine’s flashlight until it disappeared; almost like it had just been a figment of their imagination.

“You, stay here.”  Celine stood up, turning around and walked a few feet away from him.  One of her eyes relaxed, and Artemvian had the sense that she was contacting someone through ONN.

While she was away, Artemvian studied the man again.

He was bald and rather plain looking.  Artemvian put his palm a few inches above the man’s heart, trying to sense the Daemon’s trace.

Demons were really, really bad news.

Daemons, Demons.  Interchangeable words, but they really meant the same thing.  The tales about demons were as old as the tale of the Creator Gods, and as old as the tales about Good and Evil.  Often times, they were the manifestations of men’s evil desires.  Some religions touted them as fallen heavenly messengers.  Still others portrayed them as stand-alone beings, beings that walked the earth since time immemorial and played predator to man.

For Artemvian, he wasn’t sure about the religion part.  Oh sure, he had seen the gods.  But whenever they broached the topic of Daemons, he had been stonewalled.  Sometimes, quite literally.  In his personal view, Artemvian saw them as an offshoot of humanity or a predator that evolved alongside the humans.  Perhaps they were once hulking beasts, but as mankind evolved to become smarter, their predator counterparts –the Daemons– evolved to be more cunning.

To blend in among them.  Live with them.

Always hunting them.

Artemvian shuddered.

“You said your name was Artemvian?”  Celine said from behind him.

“Artemvian.  Yes.”  Artemvian stood up, sensing nothing from the man that could help him hunt the daemon.  By the fallen stars, Artemvian needed to find this demon.  It could wreak havoc in a place like Nero City.  A population so dense that the city seemed to live and breathe.  There would be no lack of prey in every square inch –an open buffet.

And this woman in front of him was his only chance of finding it.

“I know you don’t believe me, but if you could give me five minutes of your time-”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”  Artemvian said, confused.

Celine nodded.  “But I’m going to need more of an explanation than that.”  

She wrote something down on a memo pad, ripped it out and passed it over to him.  Artemvian took the paper, seeing an address written on the cover.

“Wait there for me.  Once I’m done with this,”  She gestured vaguely at the unconscious man.  “I’ll meet you there, Artemvian.”

Even as she was talking, Artemvian heard sirens in the distance, coming closer.  Celine cursed something underneath her breath in the same language as before.  “Get a move on.”  Then she turned, her face going lax as she used her ONN again.

Artemvian walked out of the alley, his shoulders hunched and  trying to look nondescript.  But there was no need.  The noise had attracted a crowd and more people were beginning to filter out of the buildings.  Celine blocked the entrance to the alleyway and was joined by more police officers minutes later.  The people parted as an ambulance came through.

Walking quickly, Artemvian navigated the Nero City Streets using his phone.  The address on the memo wasn’t too far from where they had been, and it took him only a few blocks away from the incident.

It was a quaint little bar with purplish lights in the background.  It wasn’t like Riley’s Joint, which served clientele that preferred wine to beer and classical music to swing-jazz.  The place was called Moe’s and when Artemvian walked in, he was hit with the smell of smoked meats and the overwhelming sense of drunk people.  There were people dancing in place, arms raised and eyes closed –hips swaying suggestively.  He took a moment to adjust himself, finding a quiet little spot in the corner.

The music had a lot of blaring horns, strings and drum beats with people yelling out in the background.  Artemvian bobbed his head to and fro, trying not to look out of place.  But even then, he knew he was out of place.  For one thing, he was the palest one there.  Secondly, his outfit stuck out like a sore thumb.  A lot of the women wore skimpy clothing, long dresses with slits at the side that hinted at full and round hips.  The men were working men, smelling like cigar and beer.  Regardless of whether they were men or women, however, their outfits were flowery –yellow, red, bright blue and orange filled the bar.

He could sense them looking at him, stealing glances when they thought he wouldn’t notice.

It wasn’t long before he was approached by a server.

She was young, and though Artemvian wasn’t actually from this world he knew that she was too young to be working here.  She was pretty, in a girl next door sort of way with great dimples.  She flashed a smile at him, tucked her hair behind her ear, accentuating the large yellow flower tucked into it and approached him.

“Hello, can I help you?”

“I’m waiting for someone.”  Artemvian answered.

“Would you like to order something while you wait?”

Armtemvian had the sense that she wouldn’t leave him alone until he did.

He reached into his pockets, bringing out a couple of Doily Cards.  He handed it to her.  It was worth roughly 200 doilies.  “Open a tab for me, please.”  He flashed her a smile, trying his best to be polite.  “Two beers.”

She took the card, smiled at him and left.

And Artemvian groaned as two men from the bar began to walk towards him.

He quickly unslung his staff –which was still in the bag– and leaned it against the wall behind him, easily within arm’s reach.  Artemvian didn’t want to use magic if he could help it.

But he needn’t have worried because Celine walked through the door.  Recognizing Artemvian immediately, she walked over just in time for their beers to arrive.

“None for me, I’m still working.”  She set the cup aside.

Artemvian took a sip, wincing at the strong taste.

“Nice fancy place.”  Artemvian said.

She stared at Artemvian with an even look then shook her head.  She reached into her jacket and brought out her badge, placing it on the table.

“Let me introduce myself again, Lieutenant Celine Alvarez.”

“Artemvian Delacreau-”

“Artemvian Delacreau Moneti.  Mercenary for hire, starting taking jobs roughly a month ago.  You’re the one who filled the bounty on the Full Moon Killer.”

Artemvian stayed silent.

“You’ve also been implicated with the Hammerhead Gang’s internal feud.  Rumor is that you fought off a member of the Eldritch, as well as some of the Hammerhead’s muscle.”  She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You know who I am? I’m honored.”

“We don’t keep tabs on every single mercenary for hire that pops up in the city.  But when someone starts gathering a reputation for himself, we do tend to keep an eye on him.”  She drummed her fingers on the table.  “And you, Artemvian Delacreau Moneti, are getting a reputation.”

“Didn’t know two jobs were enough to get a reputation.”  Artemvian grumbled.

“It is, if your first job is completing a bounty that no one else has been taking, especially if it’s by one of the Big Pharmas.  There are also rumors that you’re registered on the deepweb.”  She waved her hand dismissively.  “But there’s nothing you need to fear from me, I’m not here to bust you.”  Her eyes narrowed on him.  “I’m here to hire you.”

Now that wasn’t what Artemvian had been expecting.

“Let me explain from the beginning.”  She flipped her badge, so that Artemvian could look at the emblem.  “I’m the Lieutenant and Head of a special investigative branch of Nero City’s Law Enforcement.”

The emblem was a design that seemed familiar to Artemvian.  It was a picture of an old cane, crossed over a hat –a stetson.

“We look at cases that are dead ends.  That we have reason to believe may be foul play, but there's no foul play.  We look at-”

“The Supernatural.”  Artemvian whispered, his eyes widening.

This was it.  This was what he had been searching for.

“So you are in the Know.”  Celine nodded approvingly, taking the badge and stowing it back in her jacket.  “I had an inkling, since you managed to chase away the Darkling.”

“You mean the Daemon?”

“Demon, Darkling, Evil Spirit.  Different people call them different things.”  She shrugged and locked eyes with him again.  “Either way, you’re in the Know.  You’re familiar with the Supernatural?”

Artemvian bit back a sarcastic reply.  “Just enough to chase away a Darkling.”  He said instead.

She gave him half a smile but it was gone.  “Good.  That cuts out a lot of the crap then.”  She sat up a bit straighter.  “I’d like to hire you, as a Consultant.  Full disclosure, we’ve been keeping an eye on your ever since you subjugated the werewolf.  Talent like that is rare, especially if you’re a mage as half as skilled the rumors make you out to be.”

Artemvian stopped himself from saying yes immediately.  This was exactly what he had been looking for, wasn’t it?  An organized fighting force that had information about the supernatural world.  Having an organization like this meant that their information network was nothing to sneeze at either.  It would be neat, easily accessible and he wouldn’t have to do all the legwork.  Half of the benefit of belonging to an organization came from its manpower and history –the work of all its parts yielded a result greater than the sum.

“But I’m a mercenary.”  Artemvian replied instead.

“Big Pharma and Zaibatsus aren’t the only ones who can hire Mercenaries.”

“I’m expensive.”

“I’m sure we can reach an agreement.”

“Will I get to wear a uniform?”

“No.”

“What about some other goodies?”

“No.”

“I’m-”

Celine slammed her hand on the table.  Not too hard, but definitely enough to jolt Artemvian out of his joking manner.

“This Darkling came into town last week.  It’s already murdered two women, made a family of five disappear ands left eviscerated pieces of children and their pets which I had to personally piece back together.”  She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and Artemvian saw steel.  “I know I’m skipping a lot of details and information, but that doesn’t mean I’m making this offer lightly.  If anything, it should hint to you how desperate I am, that a Police Officer, an Agent of the State, is asking you, a Mercenary that I saw for the first time tonight by chance, for help in this case.  Do not make jokes.”

Artemvian met her gaze squarely.  “I’m sorry.”

Celine took a deep breath and let it out.  “No.  That was unprofessional of me.”  She got up to leave, taking out a business card.  “Listen, I know that-”

“I’ll do it.”  

“-you’re rates are probably high, but if you give it some- huh?”

“I said I’ll do it.”  Artemvian stood up.  Celine wasn’t a tall woman but with heels, she was almost his height.  “I’ll help you with this Darkling.  You can waive the fee too.”

Celine was desperate, not stupid.  “What do you want?”

Artemvian thought back to the information that Riley couldn’t get for him.  He thought about Eldritch.  He thought of the Big Pharma corporations wanting information about Werewolves.  Most of all, he thought about the inescapable sense that he was just touching threads here, that there was a bigger story to all this.  And that until he figured it out, he’d just be stuck as another face in the crowd –his power going to waste when he could be making a difference in the world.

And as entertaining as the Cat Videos were, Artemvian didn’t want to spend all his time looking at it.

At the end of the day, what he needed were connections.

“Hm… first off, how about the name of this investigative division of yours?  Do they have a name?”

“We call ourselves,”  She answered, “the Grimms.”