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A Woman of the Swamp
Stopping for Pizza

Stopping for Pizza

4. Stopping for Pizza

“I’m just saying, I think siccing the terminally bored spirits of a hotel on a cadre of underpaid guards was cruel. That’s going to cause some serious psychological trauma.” James briefly took his eyes off the road to pierce Nick with a knowing glare and emphasize the point. As a result, he nearly ran a red light, but it was clear James felt it was worth the risk.

Nick was trying his best not to giggle in the back seat. He had always wanted to perform a mass séance, but the degree of success they achieved was beyond his wildest imagination. “I can’t believe the amplification worked. Think about it this way, James, that hotel will have a serious uptick in paranormal tourists in the next few years.” He laughed. “I’ve never seen that many ghosts so angry in one place.”

“Pretty sure one of the guards pissed himself,” added Lopsang. He was also in the back seat, nursing an unmarked bottle of something strong.

“I just don’t think we should be so cavalier with people’s mental health.” James let out an exasperated sigh.

“Alright, fine, maybe you’re right, but come on… You have to admit it was a little impressive.” It had been more than a little impressive. Using an old gramophone the hotel owners had left in the suite as an aesthetic flourish, Nick amplified a simple summoning spell. What he hadn’t counted on was the hotel being the site of several grisly murders, making the dead primed for action and supremely dissatisfied.

“Fine, it was impressive,” admitted James.

“And no one was mortally injured,” pointed out Nick.

“And that.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Lopsang raised the bottle to his lips and drank, spilling rivulets of paint-peeling liquid down his front.

“What won’t you drink to these days?” asked Nick.

Lopsang’s watery eyes focused. “Calling the kettle, a bit, aren’t you?”

“At least when I’m drinking, I get shit done.” Nick saw the pain in Lopsang’s eyes and didn’t like how much it felt like a mirror. In three years, they had seen enough horrors to last a lifetime.

“Are you trying to say I—"

Before the two of them could bicker further, James cut in. “Seriously, Nick? This is your ‘old friend’ we had to break out to see?”

James pulled the car to a stop in front of Perry’s Pizza. It was a squat, decrepit old building in a line of shops in equal states of disrepair. A neon sign hung on the side of the building showing a grinning, mustachioed chef holding out a pizza. The neon tubes flickered and sputtered, creating an unsettling effect of movement and a potential seizure hazard. Rats scurried across the pavement, clearly not used to hiding.

“I might have been using the term friend loosely.” Nick cocked a pistol and put it in a side holster.

“When are you not?” asked Lopsang.

James cut the engine. “Tell me this isn’t some conspiracy about a cult in the basement.”

“Please, James, I’m not an asshole. You need to get off those internet forums…” He opened the passenger door.

“I’m not saying I believe—”

Nick got out and slammed the door, ending the argument. He took in a lungful of damp city air. The scent of Perry’s Pizza and the neighboring crematorium mixed into something truly terrible. Despite it all, Nick’s stomach rumbled. When was the last time he had eaten something? Days likely. Certainly not since he had woken up.

Lopsang stumbled out of the car and tried to stealthily pocket a few daggers he held in a clenched fist. He spun in a tight circle and kicked the car door shut. “Don’t get shit done,” he muttered. “Probably get rid of more demons without you.” He stumbled to the curb and finished whatever was in the bottle.

Nick felt sympathy, wishing he could do something to ease Lopsang’s pain. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked, trying his best not to be patronizing. Genuine concern wasn’t an emotion he conveyed often, and it didn’t come out well. “We’re just going to talk to Perry, probably don’t need all three of us anyway.”

Lopsang finished concealing his knives and gave Nick the finger.

“Perfect.”

James stepped out of the car. “Now you know what it’s like to work with you. I’m really hoping this pizza shop isn’t next to a crematorium and a cemetery on purpose.”

Nick looked past the car to the cemetery for the first time. Not great. “Grieving people need to eat too. Perry is an old friend, but she hasn’t seen me in a while, so things might get a little tense.” Nick patted the pistol on his side. “Just remember, we go way back.”

“Historically, that means she’s going to try to kill us,” pointed out James, shifting from side to side.

Nick nodded. “I know, but look, if we’re dealing with a vampire coven, we’ll need more than a couple of holy-water-laced bullets. Jackie is smart and isn’t going to let us get close again. When he sees us coming, he’ll know it’s not for a friendly chat.” Nick made a mental note to add Jackie to the long list of friends who wanted him dead or harmed in some way. Were they even friends anymore at that point?

“Well, I’m hungry, and this is a pizza place,” burbled Lopsang, sounding more and more like he belonged in a dive bar with each passing moment.

“No, Lopsang, I really wouldn’t recommend eating here.”

It was too late. Lopsang walked through the grimy door covered in temporary decals detailing daily specials that hadn’t changed in years.

Nick sighed. “He really doesn’t want to eat that.”

“Is it as bad as I think it is?” James looked again at the adjacent crematorium.

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“Let’s just say Perry is cheap and didn’t want to buy her own oven.”

“Christ.” James gagged. “And you think she’s going to solve our problems?”

“Her usual clientele are exactly the type of people we’re looking to get rid of. Now, let’s get inside before Lopsang does something he regrets.” Nick hurried to the door and pulled it open, trying not to smell the delicious aroma of cooked meat. He didn’t want to know which side of the building it was coming from.

“Get me a combo with extra olives, and I mean a lot of olives. All the olives!” Lopsang was stooped over the ordering counter like it was the only thing supporting him.

Behind the counter, a slender woman with long, greasy hair looked down at Lopsang with a mix of disdain and interest. Her eyes flicked up as Nick entered and her hands immediately dropped beneath the counter.

“Perry, wait.”

She pulled a shotgun from beneath the counter and leveled it in two seconds flat. “I said I would kill you if I saw you again. What part of that didn’t you understand?”

Nick raised his hands in surrender, wishing he had thought to conceal the pistol a little higher on his body. Die Hard is always trying to teach me that lesson.

“Well, this is already going well.” James followed suit and raised his hands.

“Do you want to see a magic trick?” asked Lopsang, still tilted at a forty-five-degree angle.

Perry looked down at him with disgust. “I’m sorry, we’re closed. Going to have to get your fix somewhere else.”

Lopsang snorted. “Presto.” In a swift motion, he brought his elbow up, sweeping the shotgun to the ceiling. The weapon barked, shattering the delicate patchwork of no doubt asbestos-ridden tiles. Insulation fell in a soft rain. Before Perry could recover, Lopsang grabbed the barrel and yanked down, freeing it from her grip. He slammed the gun on the edge of the counter and tossed it away.

“You drunken, piece of shit,” hissed Perry.

“My friend wants to talk and says you used to be friends. Based on experience, I figured you’d try to kill him, but we’ve had a long few days. Can we please not do the whole gunfight thing anymore?” Lopsang brought a hand up to massage one of his temples.

Perry’s eyes darted between the three of them. “Fine, but someone’s going to have to pay for my ceiling.”

“Fair is fair,” admitted Nick. “This time, I’ve got the money to do that.”

Perry snorted. “A likely story.” She pulled a chain behind the counter and the neon sign outside went dark. “Do me a favor and lock the door. If we’re going to do business, best we do it in the back.”

Nick walked to the door and turned the deadbolt. “After you.”

Perry led them back through a cramped hallway, flanked on either side by large refrigerators and freezers. Through the frosted glass, Nick was surprised to find ordinary pizza ingredients. “Have you gone legit on me?” he asked, looking at the neatly stacked rows of pepperonis and buckets of chopped vegetables.

“It’s better to have something back here when the health inspector comes, otherwise they get nervous. I’ve had an A for ten years running.” Perry took a quick right turn and stepped through a metal door. Cold air rushed through the hallway, followed quickly by the strong scent of formaldehyde and other embalming fluids.

“This smells familiar,” commented Lopsang.

“I told you not to eat what they serve here.”

Perry ignored the jibe and led them into a long cold room where cadavers lay on benches covered with white sheets. Cabinets covered the walls, concealing more people waiting for their final rest. “The coroner has gone home for the night, so we should be able to talk here uninterrupted, but make it quick. If you were willing to risk coming here, something big is happening.” Perry worked her hands back and forth in nervous excitement.

James looked around the room and stifled a gag. “If it’s alright with you, Nick, I’m going to wait outside.”

“A little too close to home?” asked Nick.

“Something like that. You’re not going to shoot me in the back if I leave, are you?” asked James to Perry.

She shrugged. “Just don’t touch anything on your way out and be careful of the gutter trash that wanders by, they bite.”

“Rigght.”

Lopsang turned. “I’m going with him, the smell of this place is making me sick.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what’s doing it,” commented Nick under his breath.

Lopsang made a rude gesture, and together they filed out.

“Weak stomachs for traveling with a famed monster hunter.” Perry looked genuinely surprised.

“It’s been a long week, and I think we’ve seen enough undead to make a mortuary feel like a threat.”

“Hrm.” Perry looked around at the slabs.

“Perry, we’re short on time, and I wouldn’t come here if I didn’t think it was important.”

“Repeating my words back to me does not make them original. Get to your point, Nick.”

“You still keeping tabs on vamps in the city?”

Perry’s eyebrows raised. “You know I like to keep a safe distance, so yeah, I’ve got a list.”

“What if I told you someone was trying to form a coven?”

“I’d say you were bullshitting to get out of a bullet.”

“Ordinarily, you’d be right, but I recently had a run-in with another old friend and a particularly adept necromancer. Tell me, when was the last time Baron Samedi took an interest in freeing vampires?”

“You talking about the convent job? Heard that was just a mad woman who wanted to see what was behind the nails.”

Anger stirred in Nick at the implication about Marie but he kept it down. “More than just a mad woman. She was acting at the behest of Baron Samedi, fulfilling her end of a very raw deal.”

“Alright, so The Baron broke out one vampire. Last I checked, one doesn’t make a coven.”

“I think Jackie is covering his tracks and trying to get power back.”

“Always knew I should have put a stake in him while I had the chance.”

“You had a chance?”

Perry flinched. “Not exactly, but I came closer than most. In that experience, I learned that no one goes for Jackie without coming back in pieces. Part of my compromise to get out of was opening this shop.” Perry waved her arms around at the various cadavers on slabs. “Do you think I want to be here?”

“I don’t know, I just assumed you were a little weird.”

Perry laughed. “A little weird, sure, but serving pizza next to a crematorium is not a good business model. The only reason I’m here is for access to fresh cadavers. Vampires come in here to feed so they don’t have to kill in the streets.”

Nick’s eyes widened.

“I know, I know. It doesn’t mean I like them, but it’s kept the city in check. Do you know how long it’s been since there was a credited vampire attack in the city?”

Nick shrugged. The idea of Perry helping vampires was throwing his head into a spin. Her entire family had been brutally murdered at the hands of one of the last great European covens. From the photos and stories Nick had heard, it was not something someone would easily forget.

“Well, it’s been a long time. I can see your confusion, and make no mistake, I hate working with these creatures, but I don’t see another choice. If I stop, I’ll be dead before the sun rises, and they’ll be back to their old habits. As it stands, they’re not hurting anything other than the dignity of the deceased.”

“Well, trust me, the dead will give you an earful when they get the chance.” One thing Nick knew to a certainty was that the dead were often bored and loved to talk.

Perry grimaced and ran a hand through her greasy hair. “Look, what the hell do you want Nick? You walk into my shop with two monster hunters, one who smells worse than you do, and the other one fresh out of the grave.”

Nick started to protest, but Perry cut him off.

“Yes, just about everyone knows about young James’s journey. You can’t tell a story in The Haven and expect it not to make the rounds. I expect you’ll deal with the Tribunal of Death at some point, but you’re still standing, so they must be busy.”

“The Tribunal is a myth.”

Perry chuckled. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night. What do you want? Even if there is a coven forming, there’s not much I can do about it from here.”

“Do you still have the old arsenal?”

“You try getting rid of that much weaponry without drawing some attention.”

“And the map?”

“My life’s work, I’m not going to throw that away either.”

“Both of those would be a start.”

A smile crept across Perry’s face. “Why don’t we step into my real office?”