Nimravid (The MacFade Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  NIMRAVID: BOOK ONE OF THE MACFADE CHRONICLES

  by

  D. L. Greeley

  Copyright © 2016 by D. L. Greeley

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Chapter 1

  I sometimes wonder why I left Japan to begin with…then again, there were groups of people trying to kill me there too. I’ve been marked for death by various groups since birth. At least in St. Louis, heavily tattooed and spiky haired Yakuza are a bit more conspicuous. It really helps a bloke stay alive, if you can see them coming like that. Generally, being noticeably half giant feline has some real disadvantages; standing out in a crowd is just one of them. Add being a towering Australian Aborigine and it’s nearly unmanageable.

  Over the last seven days, I’ve battled a horde of feral vampires, caught a serial killer and bitch slapped a couple of demons. It’s been a fairly slow week, for me. I’d like to say that all of this is out of the ordinary and I expect it to change soon. I’d like to, but who am I kidding?

  The contract was simple, a rescue mission. The 12 year old daughter of an influential local “business man”, Andre LeBlanc, had been snatched from her bed in the middle of the night. Through my contacts, I found out that Andre was connected to the local underworld, criminal underworld, that is. I make it a point not to take a job from any denizens of the TRUE underworld, if I can help it. I can’t always, but that’s a story for another time.

  The girl had been talking to some nut case online for months; had her convinced he was a 19 year old foreign college student who was having a hard time making friends. Don’t they always? Yeah...right. The cops figured it was mob retaliation so, they weren't working too hard on it. I'll be frank; they were barely doing a bloody thing. Despite the multiple warnings I gave them, they continued only to investigate LeBlanc’s “business associates” and were looking in all the wrong places. Idiots! I took the job on principle, but not for free. Let's not get crazy; a criminal's money accepted for a good cause still spends the same. I’m picky, not a ruddy moron.

  My name is Alexander MacFade Yoshida, Mack to my friends. I am the last of a line of evolutionary enigmas and the adopted son of a Japanese mob boss; a security consultant officially, a specialist in “odd” jobs, if you will. Actually I refer to myself as a fixer, call me a mercenary if you must, but I don’t like the term. Mercenaries use guns and explosives, working for the highest bidder. I use such things myself, but, prefer a sword, with a little elemental magic thrown about, here and there. I’m also much more selective with my clientele, who aren’t always human.

  Where mercenaries tend to leave a path of death and destruction in their wake; I tend to leave a place a little better than I found it. After the death and destruction part is over, that is. I’ll be honest; sometimes the people you deal with in this business only understand a good beat down. Whether they are human or a fifteen foot ogre, it never fails; Mack’s First Law always seems to apply. The corrupt and powerful tend to stay that way, until someone like me knocks them on their asses. I REALLY enjoy that part, but then again, I’m a combative jackass, ask anyone.

  I have never quite been what you would call normal. Oh sure, everyone likes to think they are special. Special is not the word I would use. I don’t know how old I really am. The best reckoning right now is around 39 but I’ve looked 22-23 for the last 14 years that I know of, unique right? OK, most people would call that just plain strange but allow me my delusion, if only to preserve my dignity. Now that we are done with that side track, back to the death and destruction…

  As it turned out, it wasn’t mob retaliation, imagine my shock. I examined little Arianna LeBlanc’s bedroom and a few things stuck out. The window had been opened from the inside, this was supposedly how the abductor got in and his scent was strong in the room. He had been there awhile which made using my “special” abilities much easier. “Mai, I’m getting a pretty strong hit off of the linens, let’s see it we can get anything from them.” I touched the sheet and it hit me all at once, sickening me to the core. “It’s horrible, Alex. He raped the girl in her own bed.” I saw the attack through Arianna’s eyes. This is one of the worst parts of being me. Mai boosts my telepathic ability exponentially and makes my memory infallible. It’s not easy for me to forget what I see like this and this bloke was a monster.

  The vision caused a primal rage to boil up inside me. “Focus, Alex, Arianna needs you to have a clear head.” I shook my head to clear it of the ghastly spectacle and sketched out the ratbag’s face, showing it to Arianna’s parents.

  They recognized the subject immediately. He had somehow gotten himself on the construction crew that renovated the family home's kitchen. He was a child predator, Matthew Previtt, one who might not live through the night. I was going to be very pleased if he forced me to kill him. He had created a way into the house employing an old coal shoot and rigged it to be unlocked from the outside. Most people would have missed it, my Vision was the only thing that brought it to my attention. I left the house immediately to begin my hunt and remove myself from the psychic remnants of the attack.

  I would eventually track Previtt to his killing ground using a personal item I found in his apartment but in the meantime, a Beretta to the head of his former employer provided his address… It was a rundown walk up, above a store front and across the block from a public playground. “I should have known,” I muttered as I pulled my motorcycle up to the curb. Previtt being in construction as well as a full time metal worker had added a formidable steel door. It was substantial, but hardly a barrier… for me. “Mai, keep a sharp eye out, I need to get past these locks.”

  “Make is fast Alex; other people live here besides Previtt. Just Slip through it.”

  “Can’t, need to conserve my energy. Casey, take a look inside, let me know if there’s a shot gun rigged to the door or any other unexpected entertainments.”

  “Will do, Mack” The teenage boy floated through the door, poking his head out 30 seconds later. “All clear, just the bar and the dead bolts.” Good, the locks were only a minor irritation. Having my legs blown out from under me, would have been a MAJOR pain in the ass, if you’ll pardon the pun. I concentrated and sent a thin flat tendril of Spirit Stone from a gauntlet on my right wrist into the first lock. Linked with the gauntlet, I could feel my way around the inside of the lock and determine which tumblers needed to be moved and exactly how far. Both locks were keyed the same. I smiled to myself muttering as I worked. “I love a lazy criminal.” A twist of my “skeleton key” and I was in.

  I could Sense we had just missed him. He had been one step ahead of me and the police every step of the way. It was becoming obvious there was a leak in the police department and by crikey I was going to do some VERY unpleasant things when I caught up to them. The apartment was the usual serial killer roost. The place was dark and filthy, trash and liquor bottles everywhere and, oh yes, a shrine to Arianna in the form of a photo collage pasted to one wall. A must for the meticulous stalker, nothing out of the ordinary except something of particular menace lit up my second sight like a road flare, “Hello, what’s this?” I turned to the kitchen counter. Previtt had left so quickly he forgot one of the tools of his trade, a large hunting knife with a wicked looking skinning hook. I examined it closely alongside Casey, he shrugged. “I don’t even want to know what he uses that for.”


  “It’s not for peeling APPLES, Case.” As I reached for it Mai sounded the alarm in my head. "Don't touch it, Alex!"

  "Alright…may I ask why?

  "It's cursed. That much negative energy, is bound to transfer to any open receiver and in your emotional state right now, you’re wide open.” Mai supplies my second sight which allows me to see everything from the heat rising from the floor boards to the electricity moving through the wires in the wall. The blade was rippling with a sickly green and black energy, never a good sign.

  “It taints anything it touches with a residue from the killer’s rotting soul.” Casey was hovering over me, eyes intent on the knife. “So what do we do? You said we need something to track this scum bag.”

  “And this would definitely do the trick.” I crossed my right arm over my chest, supporting my left elbow as I stroked my chin. “Let me think, Case.” I could almost hear the wheels turning in Mai’s immense intellect when I had a burst of inspiration. “Mai, can the knife's energy be transferred to another object?”

  “I suppose it could. The simpler the object the more absorbent it might be.”

  “A simple object? Perfect. Casey, come here.” He scowled at me as he approached. “Not you, nitwit, this.” I handed him a bandana I use for a sling, tourniquet, signal flag and a dozen or more other emergency purposes. I always keep one on me. Get the idea I live a really interesting life? I do and don’t recommend it. It’s exhausting…and absolute shit for your love life. “Verdict, Mai?” She read my thoughts. “Yes Casey should be alright, he’s not a vessel only energy.”

  “Go ahead Case, rub this along the blade and then hold it up. I want to see if we can get a sample. Gently now, don’t want to remove any evidence, Claire may need it later.” Casey looked uncertain like he was afraid to touch the knife. “Man up, Casey. We don’t have time for this.” He held the edges of the cloth and kind of draped it over the blade, just standing there…waiting for something to happen. I cleared my throat. “Uh, Casey?”

  “Just chill Mack, I’m letting it marinate. If this doesn’t work the first time it’ll be twice as long before we get moving again. Duh!” I just couldn’t argue that logic…wanted to smack him upside the head with something solid, but he had a point. “Alright, Chef Casey, how long does it need to marinate?”

  “I don’t know! It’s starting to bleed through the other side of the cloth, I think it’s done.”

  “Great, so how do we serve it? Hot and sliced across the grain, or chilled with nice balsamic vinaigrette?”

  “Knock it off, Mack. This is serious.”

  “Do tell? It’s almost like we’re hunting a pedophilic serial killer. Bring it over here so we can set up the scrying crystal.” Mai had taught me how to scry. You simply take something personal that belonged to the person you’re looking for, preferably hair, blood or anything that was important to them, boil it up in a specific potion, add crystal and voila, instant tracking device. Mai had found a way to shortcut the process by bringing the energy of the target in contact with a pre-prepared crystal. She’s a real time saver like that. “Mai, is he in the area?”

  “He’s close but moving away rapidly. Too rapidly for me to get a direct telepathic fix on him, he’s in a car. The child is with him though, still alive but her life force is very weak. We don’t have much time, before he’s out of range.” I touched the crystal to the bandana as Casey held it out. There was a bright flash and the crystal began to quietly hum with the transferred energy. It swung around on its string and solidly pointed North East. “Got him!” I raced down the stairs three at a time skipping the last twelve with a single jump to the small foyer below. Leaping onto my Kawasaki and tossing the crystal to Casey, we took off down the street at top speed.

  “What’s the plan, Alex?”

  “The usual…catch ratbag, retrieve objective, beat ratbag within an inch of his life, drop kick onto police station steps with a note pointing to the evidence needed to put a needle in his arm.” I could feel Mai become concerned. “Riiight—are you sure you’re going to be able to RESTRAIN yourself THAT MUCH, seeing as a child is the victim?”

  “The odds are not favorable.” I said in a quiet voice that belied the rage building inside me. “Doesn’t that concern you?”

  “Can’t say that it does.”

  “Excellent, you have a plan. For a minute there I thought you were going to lose your temper.” I ignored Mai’s jab. I struggled to follow Casey as he zipped through the city streets weaving in and out of traffic. “Mai keep scanning ahead, the second you can make contact, push into Previtt’s mind; I don’t care how hard you have to do it. I want to get a bead on him as soon as possible.”

  “Will do.” I could feel Mai take control of the telepathic part of my brain. Mai started probing so intently and I could literally hear what the alley cats were thinking. “Keep it confined to humans Mai this is a little too much sensory input. I know yer anxious but let’s keep our heads.”

  “Sorry Alex, scaling back… I’m in!” I felt Mai mentally shiver. “It’s pretty ugly in here.”

  “Not a surprise, I can take it, plug me in.” All of it hit me in less than a second. Previtt was good at what he did, almost an artist. He would stalk the children of people with shady dealings with the law so the abductions were never seriously investigated. He spent weeks raping and torturing little girls until he got bored with them. Then he would take them to a nearby steel mill, where he worked and dump them in the crucible, most of the time while they were still alive. The primal desire to kill this monster surged to new heights and began to cloud my thinking. “Calm down, Alex! I can’t concentrate amongst all these homicidal thoughts.”

  We were less than a mile behind Previtt and closing fast. Just as we were coming off the bridge into Illinois, exiting at Granite City, Casey gave me the run silent signal. I touched the Spirit Stone rod secured to the side of my bike and muttered “Seishin Onkyou”. The rod flashed once with a dim orange light and then the big motor cycle went silent. Not even the crunch of gravel under the tires made any sound. The plant itself was half closed down due to high demand for Japanese steel. We pulled up behind some empty railcars. “Mai, where is he?” I felt power leave me as she ramped up the scan. “He’s already inside. He entered over there.” I looked to my left and a trail of that same sickly green energy led up to a large dormant exhaust fan. I raced across the open area of the shipping yard, on foot. Slipping is ideal for quick and stealthy movement but it takes energy and I needed everything I had left. I had been running this ratbag down non-stop for the better part of the weekend and sleep is required to replenish most of what I use.

  Slipping is something I have always been able to do. As Mai explains it, I slip out of phase with the current reality and into The Void between dimensions where time does not exist. During which I can enter and exit at will out of sync with reality itself, appearing to move in the blink of an eye.

  I followed the energy trail through a winding maze of catwalks and electrical panels into the melting room. “Alex…” I nodded silently, I’d noticed it too. The sickly green energy was getting stronger and had saturated the place. This was Previtt’s killing ground. “Alex, I’m sensing a third presence in that room.”

  “Casey? You out there?”

  “Right here.” His face popped right out of the middle of the electrical panel I was crouched behind. Rocking back on my heals, I sputtered, “Bloody hell, Case! You scared the piss out of me!”

  “Sorry Mack, I keep forgetting what a fragile blossom you are. What’s the plan?”

  “I need you to scout the room and see who’s in there. Stay out of sight. There’s a lot of power flying around this place and we don’t know what he’s tapped into.”

  “Right, be back in a minute.”

  “Be back in 30 seconds. The kid’s outta time, Case.” He disappeared into the interior of the electrical panel. I extended my Senses to get the lay of the land picking up two humans, one ghost and one “other”
. Mai may have been right. Casey returned looking a little freaked. “You’d better see this for yourselves. Mai we’re going to need your expertise on this one.”

  “That’s doesn’t sound good.” I grunted my agreement and loosened my Berretta in its shoulder holster. I raised my head above the panel to get a look at the situation and immediately wished I hadn’t. Previtt was on a small platform secured to the wall. There was only one point of entry, a cat walk that extended over the conveyor system which moved the steel to the pouring floor once it reached 2400°.

  Arianna was suspended above a crucible on a winch tied in place with some sort of rough rope. Not so bad, I could handle that. Psycho boy on the other hand, was a whole different matter. He was holding a bright yellow control box attached to a cable that hung from the winch.

  As I Focused on him, I couldn’t help but notice he was having a rather animated conversation with himself. Beauty! Paranoid Schizophrenics, they are next to impossible to talk down. “Better take a closer look, Alex.” I concentrated and activated my Sight. Previtt was talking to one of the biggest, ugliest demons, I had ever laid eyes on and that’s saying something. Its features were so misshapen; I could hardly tell that it was humanoid. “Bloody marvelous, this has just gotten a whole lot more complicated.”

  Arianna quietly moaned and whimpered, too weak to even open her eyes. She was clearly in a lot of pain. I could Sense it and it was tearing at my psyche. I could feel my self-control slipping and cocked the slide on my Berretta, preparing to stand up. “Keep your head down, Alex! You’ll give away our position!” When I’m upset or excited, my eyes tend to glow, something to do with the feline half of my genetics. It can be seen for quite a distance.

  “This guy is not going to see the inside of a courtroom.”

  “ALEX! GET CONTROL OF YOURSELF!” Mai boomed inside my head so loudly it knocked me out of my berserker haze. “You need to calm down and we need a plan.” I absently nodded my head. “Casey, how are you feeling?” Casey looked at me darkly. “If I could kill him myself, I would Mack. What do you need?” That’s my boy! Casey is a ghost, a big mouth, very little physical presence and all the anger and passion of the 14 year old boy he died as. Casey was the ultimate poltergeist and loved his job. “I’m going to try to get him away from the controls. Once I have, I will start lowering Arianna.”