Dark Harvest (#Wattys2018)

Chapter 23

I did the usual adult behaviors that were required of me: opened the mail, glared at bills, wrote a few checks before returning to the couch to lounge and binge watch a few episodes of Jessica Jones.

A faint buzzing noise brought me to consciousness again. The sun was low, less blinding, coloring the sky in deep orange and pink hues. I blinked, pulling myself up from the slouched position I had settled into, nearly knocking the empty coffee cup off the back of the couch. The buzzing was still going off, a low vibration that I could almost feel. Which was impossible, since my phone was charging in the kitchen. I hit the light at the base of the stairs as I walked into the kitchen, and picked up the phone.

Local Boston number showed under a notification of four missed calls.

"Vincent."

A low country drawl came over the line. Valenti. "Hey, heard you guys had a rough night last night."

It was less of a question and more of a statement. I clicked the Keurig back on, pinching the phone between my ear and shoulder as I filled up the water reservoir.

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Avery said you had a possible concussion. Did you get that checked?"

Yeah, I totally decided to go waste eight hours in the ER just to be told to go home and rest.

I gave a noncommittal grunt. "Just calling to check on me? Cause I'm fine."

The sound of Valenti picking up the receiver told me I was suddenly off speaker phone.

"You asked for me to let you know if we had any weird murders. Got a dead body at The Willows. Sounded like the qualifications you mentioned. I can get you a pass to go check it out."

And so it begins. I felt my stomach twist as guilt hit me. A murder that matched Malak's signature.

I took down the location on a pad of paper next to the microwave as I popped in a K-cup and dropped the top down. I switched out the coffee mug for a travel mug.

"I'm leaving now," I told him as the machine began brewing, pouring the steaming brown liquid of heaven into the cup.

Valenti hung up without any other confirmation, which was typical for most law enforcement. Give the order and the information, then move on. They didn't care for the niceties and honestly, neither did I.

The history that most people know is the idealized narrative of what a country wants it's people to believe. In other words, it's bullshit. Nothing more than a trashy novel being swapped around at campgrounds. The supernatural community was hailed as heroes and effectively ended a potential World War III. Monsters were people to and cared just as much about the world as the all living things that thrived on it did. And that sentiment wasn't wrong for some of the supernatural community. Weres didn't eat people. The Fey didn't eat people. Witches didn't eat people. But there are a lot of monsters out there who saw their food source destroying each other, and THAT would mean those monsters would be on a downward spiral towards extinction.

Doesn't sound all that noble now to save the world, huh?

Most people had accepted the idea of the supernaturals as heroes easily enough. The world had gone from living in constant fear of a nuclear war to that panic and anxiety pretty much vanishing. And the US government had showered the supernatural community with all the credit. Society was and always will be sheep.

No one knows what those politicians completely agreed to other than the leaders of the different supernatural councils, most of which were probably still kicking around somewhere, pulling little strings on society like a marionette. But things like murders caused by the supernatural community, big events like the Vampiric Masquerade, were kept hush hush. Memories were charmed, scenes were cleaned up, and body counts were kept quiet.