Read Online Roaring Blood (Demon-Hearted Book 2) by Ambrose Ibsen - Free Book Online
Authors: Ambrose Ibsen
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the sooner I could get back on the trail.
Because, believe me, I was going to settle the score.
The necromancer had gotten one over on me. He was good. I'm not too proud to give credit where it's due. But what I'd lacked in skill back there, I intended to make up for in persistence. I wouldn't sleep, wouldn't eat, till I had the necromancer's head on my mantle.
That was a lie. The minute this wound was healed I'd likely hit up Yao's for a platter of pork dumplings and a cold beer.
But after that, for sure. I'd be relentless.
There was a commotion in the hallway as the dead commando was hauled up into the medical wing. Medics carried the poor guy in on a gurney, his guts swinging around the sides and painting the floor with blood. It was a lost cause; he'd been dead since the second he'd been struck by the necromancer's blade, slit crotch to mouth. Most of his vitals were probably still scattered throughout the graveyard. If I hadn't interfered with the necromancer's assault, then that commando might've been brought back as one of the undead.
“Tattoos?” asked Kubo, finally pausing. “You're sure? He was very tall and had tattoos on his face? Small ones... magical symbols?” He crossed his arms and waited expectantly for my reply.
“Yup.”
Kubo grunted, turning to Amundsen. “I'll get him off to Mona's, but first we need to verify this. Let's take him to the file room.”
Amundsen nodded.
The Chief and Amundsen led Joe and I out of the medical wing. I was given a handful of thick gauze and a long, flexible bandage to stymy the bleeding, but I wasn't a few steps out of my room before they were soaked through. Joe and I followed the two of them into the elevator, and Kubo punched the button for the sub-basement.
The sub-basement was a place I'd never been before. I figured it was full of maintenance equipment, possibly home to a boiler room or something, but in reality it looked much like the rest of the joint. There was a long hallway lined in black doors, and Kubo led the charge towards one on the far left side. Stepping inside, I found it cluttered from floor to ceiling with file cabinets and shelves of books.
“What is this place?” I asked. “A library or something?”
Kubo replied distantly, hopping onto a step ladder and pulling open a couple of drawers. “Something like that. This is where we keep records of different cases and targets. Don't touch anything. I don't want you bleeding all over sensitive documents.”
I frowned. “I'm touched, chief. Thanks for your concern. Tell me, have you guys ever heard of computers? All of this info could be stored on a single machine, you know that? I love the low-tech thing you've got going on here, but it's inefficient.”
Amundsen stood by in silence.
“Shut up, Lucy,” mumbled Joe. “This is serious. No time to be giving the Chief shit.”
Kubo hopped down from the ladder with a file folder in hand. He pulled it open, scanned it with his narrowed eyes for a moment, and then threw it down on a table. “Have a look, Lucy. Is this the guy who attacked you?”
I ambled towards the table and had a seat. Leaning over the file, I glanced at the picture, only to find the necromancer staring back at me. It was a clear, black and white photo of the guy. His features were every bit as rough and slate-like as they'd been back at the cemetery, and the tattoos stood in prominent contrast to his pale flesh. I eyed his visage, studied the symbols written across his countenance and felt my stomach churn. “That's the guy. I'm positive.”
Kubo rubbed at his chin, his broad shoulders drooping. “I was afraid you'd say that.”
NINE
The guy's name was listed as “Agamemnon”.
“Is this his real name?” I asked, arching a brow. “Because if it is, his parents were assholes. Imagine sending your little tyke off to Necromancer School. No way that a Kindergartener's going to be able to remember how to spell that mess. And what kind of nickname can you come
Because, believe me, I was going to settle the score.
The necromancer had gotten one over on me. He was good. I'm not too proud to give credit where it's due. But what I'd lacked in skill back there, I intended to make up for in persistence. I wouldn't sleep, wouldn't eat, till I had the necromancer's head on my mantle.
That was a lie. The minute this wound was healed I'd likely hit up Yao's for a platter of pork dumplings and a cold beer.
But after that, for sure. I'd be relentless.
There was a commotion in the hallway as the dead commando was hauled up into the medical wing. Medics carried the poor guy in on a gurney, his guts swinging around the sides and painting the floor with blood. It was a lost cause; he'd been dead since the second he'd been struck by the necromancer's blade, slit crotch to mouth. Most of his vitals were probably still scattered throughout the graveyard. If I hadn't interfered with the necromancer's assault, then that commando might've been brought back as one of the undead.
“Tattoos?” asked Kubo, finally pausing. “You're sure? He was very tall and had tattoos on his face? Small ones... magical symbols?” He crossed his arms and waited expectantly for my reply.
“Yup.”
Kubo grunted, turning to Amundsen. “I'll get him off to Mona's, but first we need to verify this. Let's take him to the file room.”
Amundsen nodded.
The Chief and Amundsen led Joe and I out of the medical wing. I was given a handful of thick gauze and a long, flexible bandage to stymy the bleeding, but I wasn't a few steps out of my room before they were soaked through. Joe and I followed the two of them into the elevator, and Kubo punched the button for the sub-basement.
The sub-basement was a place I'd never been before. I figured it was full of maintenance equipment, possibly home to a boiler room or something, but in reality it looked much like the rest of the joint. There was a long hallway lined in black doors, and Kubo led the charge towards one on the far left side. Stepping inside, I found it cluttered from floor to ceiling with file cabinets and shelves of books.
“What is this place?” I asked. “A library or something?”
Kubo replied distantly, hopping onto a step ladder and pulling open a couple of drawers. “Something like that. This is where we keep records of different cases and targets. Don't touch anything. I don't want you bleeding all over sensitive documents.”
I frowned. “I'm touched, chief. Thanks for your concern. Tell me, have you guys ever heard of computers? All of this info could be stored on a single machine, you know that? I love the low-tech thing you've got going on here, but it's inefficient.”
Amundsen stood by in silence.
“Shut up, Lucy,” mumbled Joe. “This is serious. No time to be giving the Chief shit.”
Kubo hopped down from the ladder with a file folder in hand. He pulled it open, scanned it with his narrowed eyes for a moment, and then threw it down on a table. “Have a look, Lucy. Is this the guy who attacked you?”
I ambled towards the table and had a seat. Leaning over the file, I glanced at the picture, only to find the necromancer staring back at me. It was a clear, black and white photo of the guy. His features were every bit as rough and slate-like as they'd been back at the cemetery, and the tattoos stood in prominent contrast to his pale flesh. I eyed his visage, studied the symbols written across his countenance and felt my stomach churn. “That's the guy. I'm positive.”
Kubo rubbed at his chin, his broad shoulders drooping. “I was afraid you'd say that.”
NINE
The guy's name was listed as “Agamemnon”.
“Is this his real name?” I asked, arching a brow. “Because if it is, his parents were assholes. Imagine sending your little tyke off to Necromancer School. No way that a Kindergartener's going to be able to remember how to spell that mess. And what kind of nickname can you come
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