Infinity Page 24


Nick could hear the tone of a deep voice on the line, but he couldn't make out the words.


"Hey, Virg. Long time." Caleb laughed at something Virgil must have said. "No, it's nothing like that. We rather have a situation where we need to get into jail, not have you get us out."


He paused again to listen. "Yeah, I agree. Stupid is my middle name, you know that. I'm pretty sure you're the one who gave it to me. So can you help a brother out?" He rolled his eyes. "No, you can't have my soul for it. / don't even have my soul. Yeah, I know you're a bloodsucking attorney, but you're going to have to placate yourself with money like the rest of the mundanes."


Nick passed a scowl to Mark, Bubba, and Madaug, who looked as puzzled as he felt. Caleb was definitely an odd duck.


"Is that really what you want as payment?" he flashed another grin at them. "Done. Can you meet us outside the jail in about twenty minutes? Yeah, we'll see you then. Thanks, bud, and yes, I'm well aware of the fact that I owe you." Hanging up the phone, he winked at them. "Let's go stun us a zombie."


Nick couldn't believe Caleb had accomplished it so fast. "I'm impressed."


"Don't be. One of you guys is going to have to feed the vampiric lawyer some blood and it can't be me."


Nick rolled his eyes at Caleb's bizarre humor. "Why? You afraid of a little bite?"


Caleb laughed. "I'm anemic."


"And I'm Catholic. Doesn't that knock me out of the running? Caleb shook his head at Nick.


"The Simi gots some barbecue sauce in her bag. It kind of looks like blood if you squint at it the right way. And it don't coagulate between your teeth like blood or give you them funky burps, not to mention it tastes a lot better too. Especially over that type A stuff. Bleh! I'd rather eat my shoes. But that O-flavored blood ... yum!" She straightened and held one finger up in a gesture that strangely reminded him of Smokeythe Bear. "And just remember, kids, three out of four demons all prefer barbecue sauce over hemoglobin."


"Oookay." Bubba stepped away from her, which said something. When Bubba repudiated you, you knew you were the poster child for weird. "On that note ... I guess we need to get into the truck."


Grabbing his keys and the cattle prod, Bubba led them outside to his giant dark green Armada, which he said he'd bought because it was one of the few things large enough to haul all of his zombie-killing gear.


And it was great for tailgate parties.


Nick cast a doubtful glance at the cattle prod before he got into the back of the truck while the others piled in. "So, out of curiosity... any ideas on how we're going to get a three-foot cattle prod smuggled into jail?"


Caleb buckled himself in. "That's why we need Virgil. He can smuggle in anything."


"You think a lot of him, don't you?"


Caleb shrugged. "I've known him a long time and have seen him do things that would put hair on your chest." "Yeah, like what?" Caleb refused to elaborate.


Bubba got in and drove over to the Orleans Parish intake and lockup. Nick fell quiet as old memories surged of the handful of times he'd visited his dad—not here, but prison, which was basically the same thing.


'You keep that brat away from me, Cheiise. I dont even want to look at his ugly face. Don t bring him up here anymore to see me."


Love you, too, Dad.


Nick still had no idea how his beautiful, kind mother had hooked up with such a monster. It didn't make any sense. She'd told him once that she liked bad boys. But there was a difference between a guy like him who had attitude and a guy like his dad who had mental damage.


Why did women and girls find psychos so desirable? Even at his school, it was the vicious loons like Stone who got all the girls while nice guys like him only got the finger when he asked them out. He'd never understand it.


Of course, in his case, his mother's insistence on him wearing these foully ugly shirts didn't help.


Whatever.


He just hoped that with his DNA linking him to the psycho killer that he never ended up inside something like this. That was the one promise he'd made to his mother he never wanted to break.


Bubba pulled around back and parked under a streetlight. "What now?" he asked Caleb. "We wait on Virgil."


"How will he know which car's ours?" Mark asked.


Before Caleb could answer, someone knocked on the window next to Bubba. Bubba jumped a foot in panic. "What the hell?"


Caleb inclined his head to the ...


Nick scowled as his gaze focused on his friend.


Virgil looked nothing like what he'd expected. A little over six feet tall, he couldn't be any older than sixteen or seventeen. Even though he was in a suit and dressed like an attorney, he looked like a teenager going to a funeral.


Surely he wasn't a real lawyer....


Was he?


And as Nick watched him, something odd happened. Virgil suddenly looked older. Like he was in his late twenties. Nick looked around the truck, but no one else seemed to notice.


Caleb opened his door and got out to talk to him. "Hey, Virg."


Virgil eyeballed them while they stayed in the car. There was an insidious air about him ... but that could just be the evil lawyer funk. "What exactly do you need me to do?"


Caleb glanced at Nick before he answered. "You know the kid who tried to eat his classmate this morning at St. Richard's?"


"Yeah?"


"We need you to shock him with a cattle prod and tell us what happens."


Keeping his lips closed, Virgil laughed—until he realized Caleb wasn't joking. He sobered instantly. "Why?"


"We think we have a cure for his zombie programming."


Virgil's face went through a myriad of emotions. Astonishment, puzzlement, and finally an expression that said he thought they were all short a few monkeys in their cage. "You're out of your mind, aren't you?"


"No, seriously. The kid who programmed the game that turned him into a zombie is in the car." Caleb pointed at Madaug, who waved at Virgil.


Virgil frowned at Caleb. "It's a program that turned him? Not magick?"


"Nope, not magick."


"Too bad. There are a lot of people out there who would've killed for a potion. I could have made you rich."


Caleb shrugged. "They'll have to find another way to make living zombies. In the meantime, we want to make sure that the ones we've turned back to human actually had direct contact with the game. The only one the kid knows played it for sure is the one sitting in jail right now. We gotta make sure this works." He passed the cattle prod to Virgil. "Warning, don't touch yourself with it. It's not low voltage like it's supposed to be. Bubba rigged it so that it actually lets loose over a million volts."


"All right," Virgil said slowly. "Let me make sure I have this straight.... The award-winning plan of intelligence that all ye brainiacs came up with is that I take an illegal, modified cattle prod into parish lockup, past the people armed with guns who are trained to kill, find a kid who's waiting to be arraigned for an attempted murder trial, and shock him until he turns normal again. Anything else?"


"Nope. That'll do it."


Virgil let out a slow breath as he eyed the cattle prod with a doubtful stare. "You seriously owe me." "I know."


Without another word, Virgil headed for the front of the building.


Nick was dying to see this miracle up close and personal. "Hey, Bubba? Can you unlock the door? I need a rest stop." "Sure."


Nick slid out of the SUV and made his way to the building to scope things out. Inside it, there were cops everywhere. No duh. Right? But what stood out most was the metal detectors. There was no way Virgil was going to get through all that without getting shot.


This ought to be entertaining.


Nick had just got into position when Virgil waltzed in like he owned the place. Several officers greeted him and acted as if they didn't see the cattle prod at all. In fact, Virgil fed it through the belt scanner before he walked through the upright one—all the while talking to the officers.


He was putting his shoes on when the cattle prod came out. One of the officers picked it up and held it out to Virgil.


"Don't forget your umbrella, Mr. Ward."


"Thanks, Cabal. I know it's not supposed to rain, but I believe in always being prepared."


"I hear you. Especially here in N'awlins. You never know when a downpour's going to hit. As I always say, you don't like the weather? Wait a minute."


Laughing, Virgil took the cattle prod and headed for the hallway.


Nick was aghast as Virgil disappeared from his sight without anyone saying anything about his weapon.


You know if I did that, they'd body slam me down and shoot me in the head for good measure.


Stunned by what he'd seen, Nick made his way back to the SUV where the others were waiting.


Bubba arched a brow at him. "That was quick." Nick buckled himself into his seat. "I mostly wanted to see if Virgil made it past security." Caleb looked smug, but didn't say anything. "And?" Mark asked.


"Don't ask me how, but he did. They didn't even see it. It was like the cattle prod was invisible or something." Bubba frowned. "How?"


Simi let out a peeved huff. "He's a vampire, demon, human people. Jeez, didn't any of you notice?"


Mark scoffed, "Most lawyers are. Ain't never met one yet what wasn't a bloodsucker or a soulsucker. Of course, in my case, they're all money suckers."


Caleb's phone started ringing. He picked it up and answered it. "Yeah?" He listened for a second, then said, "Wait. I'm putting you on speaker." He switched it on. "Now repeat what you just told me."


"What the hell's in this cattle prod? I about launched the kid through the wall."


Caleb snorted. "Not that part, Virgil. Move on."


"Okay, I shocked him and now's he's squalling like a girl, wanting his mommy. He says he has no idea of how he got here. I asked him about biting the kid and he has no idea what I'm talking about. Best of all, he's no longer trying to eat my brains, which have to be missing for me to agree to this. So to answer your experiment, I think it works."


Bubba looked skeptical. "Can we trust his report?"


"You do know I can hear you, right?" Virgil's tone was irritated.


"Yeah," Bubba drawled, "and I repeat, can we trust you?" "Well, since I don't have a dog in this fight, yeah. Why would I lie? Not that I'm not beyond those ethics. I fully believe in whatever lie will set me free. But in this case, I'm being honest. The kid's now clean. Listen for yourself...."


"I want to go home. Why am I here? I don't understand what happened...."


Caleb turned the speaker off. "Thanks, Virgil. I'll get the payment to you later." He paused, then looked at Mark and Bubba. "You guys need your cattle prod back?"


"Absolutely," Mark said. "We got some people to shock."


Caleb nodded, then spoke into the phone. "If you don't mind, please bring it back to us."


Virgil appeared before he could hang up the phone.


This time, Nick was the one who jumped as Bubba got out to return the cattle prod to the back of the SUV.


Virgil eyed Nick closely as he studied him through the truck window. "Don't I know you?"


Nick shook his head as a strange chill went over his body that made his skin crawl. Virgil definitely wasn't what he seemed. "I don't think so."


Caleb cleared his throat.


Virgil glanced over at him and something strange passed between them. When he turned his attention back to Nick, his look was guarded and cold. "Nice to meet you, Nick."


"How do you know my name?"


Virgil didn't answer. "I better get back. I have night court in an hour and don't want to miss it. My first case is a doozie: Some guy beat up another on Bourbon with a hot dog before he tried to kill his victim by drowning him in a puddle." He literally vanished.


Bubba turned around in the seat to stare at Caleb. "Interesting friend you got there."


"You have no idea."


Mark scratched at his ear. "We need to let Tabitha and crew know how to fight them."


Madaug fished his phone out and pressed the auto dial for his brother. "I'm on it."


Bubba pulled out of the parking space and headed back to the store. "All right, we have half the equation. We know we can turn them human again. But the question is, how are so many getting their hands on the game?"


Mark shook his head. "Someone else has to be disseminating it."

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