Holding Back the Night
"Now that's new," Thane da Silva commented, sliding the letter in its protective covering toward him for a second look. He studied the ornate calligraphy carefully. "People tend to receive death threats instead of undeath threats."
"Try to convince me that it's the same as threatening not to kill someone," Lieutenant Montgomery pleaded.
Thane simply looked at him. "Would that be less complicated?"
"Guess it was only a matter of time once the preternatural came out of the crypt," Montgomery said, lines of gloom deepening on his face. A few more years in The Department and he'd start to look like a bloodhound. Hell, Thane figured a few more months would do it, and then there'd be trouble with the lycanthropy crew.
Montgomery lined his pen up precisely parallel to the edge of his wife's photo. "Do what I want or I'll turn you into a vampire isn't much of a threat these days, what with all the Goth fanciers around."
"Doesn't specify vampire," Thane pointed out mildly. Vampire and undead were ambiguous definitions at best, considering the various species plus their hybrids and the evolutionaries.
"Damnation."
"Extremely likely."
The Lieutenant's gloom lightened a fraction. "It's all yours."
"I am so lucky," Thane said, accepting the file folder. He flipped through the pages and frowned. "What's going on?"
Cases passed to The Department usually arrived after much handing around and paper shuffling, them being so small and hidden away within a much bigger law enforcement system.
The Lieutenant leaned across the desk. "All yours. Completely. No preliminary investigations performed except for the lab work, partly because there was nothing for regular investigations to focus on. That communiqué was left in a box clearly labelled for our attention. Someone knows what The Department is. Or something."
That raised Thane's cynical brows. "Of course. The preternatural community has a lot at stake, and they've had decades to build up contacts."
"That was an unintentional pun, da Silva, right? Because if it wasn't, it's definitely time you used up some of that leave you've accumulated."
Thane ignored that and eyed the Lieutenant carefully. "What else?"
Montgomery scowled at his reflection in the blank surface of the desk. It was blank because the Lieutenant believed in electronic records management, which effectively meant, he believed in his long-suffering secretary who in turn believed in holidays to remote locales outside of phone range. "We don't have the original envelope, but under blue light there's a ghost of a postmark on the reverse bottom left corner."
Thane instantly went into alert mode. It didn't look any different from his normal relaxed sprawl but if he weren't totally human his ears would be pricked. "Postmark?"
"Pandora's Edge." The Lieutenant gritted out the syllables reluctantly.
Not good.
Really not good.
The isolated coastal town of Pandora's Edge was a safe zone for the bump-in-the-night crowd, protected by a handful of very powerful beings, a town-wide conspiracy, and the general reluctance to believe in the preternatural. That was the plus side. On the negative, anything originating in The Edge and impacting the rest of the world had the potential for extremely nasty ramifications.
So ... Code Yellow status.
Thane knew more about The Edge than most. It was his partner's hometown, and thanks to a twist of fate, his cousin Ariel was Captain of the Guards.
Lieutenant Montgomery's hunched shoulders became more pronounced. "What's the time difference between Paris and Pandora's?"
Thane checked his watch. "It's not too late."
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