Dead Waters - Anton Strout [115]
“Aidan?” I asked, running over to him.
The Inspectre turned to him. “Are you all right?”
Aidan nodded, his face returning to its more human state. “Fine,” he said. “Just a little too wet out tonight for my liking.”
“Thank you,” the Inspectre said. “For the ride. It was quite. . . invigorating.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
Connor walked over to us. “I called him, kid,” he said. “Thought the vamps might be helpful in all this.”
“Actually,” Aidan said, “not so much. We don’t really function well around water, remember? It’s why I skipped your boat ride and had a little trouble sticking my landing just now. But I’ll do what I can. I owe you guys for helping me get rid of that ghost.”
“Well, nice Superman entrance anyway,” I said. “Let’s just hope the water woman doesn’t get her green coloring from a Kryptonite infusion.”
“Funny,” Aidan said. “So glad I came out for this.”
“Thank you for joining us,” the Inspectre said. “Sincerely.”
Aidan smiled, baring his fangs.
“All right,” Connor said. “Enough. My brother’s going to get an even bigger head on his shoulders.”
“Is that possible?” I said.
“Gentlemen, concentrate,” the Inspectre snapped. The rest of us fell silent. “Now, then, we have to make sure Mason Redfield doesn’t escape. We need to surround him.”
Aidan stepped forward. “I’m on it,” he said. “I’ll block the other side of the bridge.” His features stretched back to his vampiric form once again. “Up, up, and away.”
Aidan leapt into the air like he was the Hulk bounding away.
“Let’s move in,” the Inspectre said.
“And quickly,” Connor added, heading out onto the bridge. “There’s no telling what my brother may or may not do.”
I grabbed Jane’s hand and headed after him and the Inspectre, who was already setting a brisk pace.
“Hey, if your brother brings down this woman in green and gets this mark off of Jane, I’ll bring him on a Hot Topic shopping spree myself,” I said.
“Quiet,” the Inspectre said, his mood darkening. Connor and I used foolishness as it had been described in the Departmental pamphlet entitled “Witty Banter to Ease Any Paranormal Situation.” I knew that personally it was what kept me from losing my mind and running off screaming on an hourly basis sometimes. Before I could say anything, the Inspectre had picked up his pace and moved ahead, closing in on his old friend. The sea of long-dead spirits parted out of the way as we went, drifting to and fro in their constant wait for a ship that would never come.
Mason Redfield stood at the edge of the bridge, staring down at the chopping waves far below. His hands held him in place as he leaned out over the side, rocking back and forth, totally unaware of our approach. Pushing him off would be so easy if I just took a running start from here. I let go of Jane’s hand and reached for my bat in its holster.
I worried that the click of extending it out might draw his attention, but I doubted he would be able to hear it over the whip of the wind and rain out at the center of the bridge. I needn’t have worried. Another sound caught his attention instead.
Aidan landed just on the other side of Mason, slamming down into the bridge, cracking a few of the slats. He came down hard, too hard, and looked a little stunned by the trouble he was having being exposed to so much water.
Mason spun around, and then noticed the rest of us crowding in on him. Faster than I expected, he reacted, pulling something out of his jacket.
“Crap,” I heard Connor say. “Gun!”
Fewer words inspired more panic in the Department than hearing someone was packing heat. Dealing with pedestrian weapons wasn’t really our area. Vampires and witches didn’t use them, and