Page 24 of Vampire Kings Box Set

“This is it,” Candy said somewhat unnecessarily, given the multiple cars, flashing lights, and cordons around the church which blended into the city street almost inconspicuously thanks to the scaffolding which hid most of the glory of the building behind green tarps. It had been undergoing renovation for quite some time, an attempt at keeping the historical relevant and restored. Maddox felt some sympathy for the big old building.

“Are you going to be able to enter, sir?”

Maddox cast a sidelong cast at Candy. “Yes,” he said simply.

The notion that vampires couldn’t enter hallowed spaces was actually technically correct. However, there were very few truly hallowed spaces left in the world. Simply being a church did not make a space hallowed. Many of them were more corrupt than your average brothel. This one, mere blocks from Times Square, was infiltrated regularly with all manner of pedestrian evil. It would have taken a tsunami of holy water and a phalanx of priests to drive out the demons flirting with the sculptures in this place.

“Do we really need this many officers? They can’t possibly all have clearance.”

“Traffic and pedestrian control. They don't know what’s happening inside. We’ve got the two rookies on tonight, and I called everyone else in. So you’ve got seven, total.”

“Good. This will be a learning experience.”

The doors swung open and one of the rookies rushed out at high speed to be sick in the gutter.

“One rookie,” Candy amended.

Maddox entered the church without further comment. It was a very beautiful piece of architecture in spite of the near pedestrian appearance of the exterior. He had always admired the creativity of such places. Not an inch of the walls, floor, ceiling, or pews was left plain. Every part of the building told a story and boasted fine craftsmanship. This was how previous generations of humans had approached making material things, with reverence and care. Now everything was slick, smooth, and most of all, disposable.

In stark contrast to all the efforts at holiness was the crime scene laid out on the high altar, an act of desecration so profound the church might never be sacred again.

“That’s a mess,” Candy said with her usual talent for understatement.

On this occasion, she was wrong. It was not a mess. It was a work of dark art. There were two bodies on display, wrapped around one another with an incestuous closeness. They were both naked, wrapped around one another in what might have been considered an embrace but for how it had been enforced with thin, long wood stakes. They weren’t so much hugging as they had been hammered together around what appeared to be, on closer inspection, a crucifix. It was desecration, cruelty, and humiliation, all wrapped up in a perverted scene.

Their faces were almost unrecognizable due to the rictus expressions of pain, but Maddox recognized them. He had spoken to them just yesterday. Bert and Ernie were slain, the twin vampire kings of New York turned to pained puppets.

“It looks like this must have gone on for hours,” Candy said grimly. “To have put all those stakes in them.”

“It is difficult to slay the undead,” Maddox observed. “Though not this difficult. A single stake in the right place would have done it, and the final one seems to have.”

“The final one, sir?”

“Vampire flesh does not hold together well after passing. For this many stakes to be driven into their flesh, they must have been alive.”

Candy’s face assumed a horrified expression.

Killing vampires was not illegal in human law, because vampires were already dead. However, technically there had to be some kind of law against what was laid out before the series of disgusted and confused law enforcement officers, all of whom shared the notion that they really should be doing something about this.

“Whoever did this enjoyed every moment of it.”

The observation was made by a new voice. One which immediately grated against Maddox’s ear.

Maddox glanced over at the detective who should not have been there. He was not wearing NYPD badging, and he was not horrified. He was short — about five foot four, so very short for a male — and compact. His features were symmetrical and yet unremarkable. He was the sort of person who could go unnoticed anywhere and had been entirely unnoticed by Maddox up until he spoke.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Maddox said, extending a hand.

“Skip Chauvelin, FBI,” the man replied. He did not take the proffered hand, instead opting to hold up his gloved fingers in a gesture which indicated he could not go about touching things in that moment.

“This only just happened, and has already attracted federal attention?”

“We were working with the twins on some unrelated matters,” Skip said. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr Maddox. Your reputation precedes you in so many ways.” Deep brown eyes narrowed just a fraction as he mentioned Mad’s reputation. Mads felt a tingle of something like concern, though it was closer to attention. Skip was a man who needed to be watched.

“Perhaps you might be able to assist us with our inquiries,” Maddox said.

“I was going to say the same thing,” Skip smiled blandly.

Maddox felt a rare chill. It was not often a human being embodied calm menace the way this one did, hiding an avalanche of malevolence behind a bland half-smile. Maddox memorized the face and the name, the milky brown eyes, the light smattering of acne at the jaw line, though he was not a young man. There was something of the weasel about his aspect, or perhaps the mongoose. Either way, Maddox did not like what he saw.