[Interlude] The Search for Vanessa Hawthorne: Backroom Negotiations

An old soldier had once told her that the best lies had two elements to them: a hint of truth and a good reason for the deception. She hadn’t fully lied to him about the music… but she hadn’t been honest either.

“Of course, I’d be happy to help a former champion. Especially one as dedicated as you, although I find it very curious that you’ve taken on the boy. He’s hardly special. Certainly not worth the cost of my assistance. So, why would you put so much investment into him? Hmm?”

Erica glared at the person sitting across the card table. He defied description as much as was inhumanly possible, seeming to have absolutely no notable features at all. His skin tone was too dark to be caucasian but too light to be clearly defined as a member of any specific ethnicity. From one angle, his eyes seemed blue, but from another they were green, or grey, or even tinted towards brown. A simple generic ‘masculine’ haircut framed a boring face. The man standing beside his chair was far more distinctive: a tall blond with a prominent scar across his face holding a tablet computer under one arm.

Aside from the three of them, the private room was empty.

“That’s between us and none of your business, Dante, and I’m here on behalf of the Order.” She met his unwavering gaze with as firm of one as she could manage. Again, technically it wasn’t a lie. “Someone has been ‘disappearing’ young women in our city. I want to know how you’re involved.”

“Erica! I’m hurt!” The man addressed as Dante feigned insult with dripping sarcasm, “How could you possibly dare accuse me of such a thing? I’m an upstanding businessman and would never involve myself in such a sordid affair. You’re throwing around serious allegations…” A smile lingered on his lips, daring her to prove her claims.

So she did, “Linda Rodriguez, two weeks ago. Jessica Helms, one and a half weeks prior. Holly Stillford, one week ago. Tania Trelling, three days ago. Lydia Mortimer, yesterday. Vanessa Hawthorne, today.” The man’s face was nearly unreadable, but she caught a hint of a reaction at Vanessa’s name. “At first, we thought the killer was just another compulsive sociopath with enough talent to cover his tracks, but then other things started to break that mold.”

Dante leaned back, gesturing for her to go on.

“Overturned graves, a notable increase in Illusion Barrier density, and lastly… this.” Erica placed her phone on the table, showing an image of a disturbingly twisted object that finally broke Dante’s dismissing facade. It was an eye, shoddily created out of barbed wire and animal bones, stained in a dark reddish-brown that was not rust. “The Cabal’s backing them.”

“Asphodel’s vineyards, we thought he was just an aspiring necromancer!” Dante exclaimed as the blond man beside him leaned in to turn Erica’s phone face down. Even an image of an Eye of the Beholder could have some power.

Erica stared at them both, then said flatly, “No, you didn’t. An ‘aspiring’ anything wouldn’t be able to afford your services.”

A hint of Dante’s earlier amusement returned, “Clever girl. Mortimer might be an inept buffoon at his chosen field of study, but he is surprisingly adept at covering his trail. He claimed to be a student of the infamous Reanimator, Professor Hubert Westford. We had no reason not to believe him at the time, I assure you.”

His expression darkened, and for the first time since he’d welcomed her to speak with him, Erica saw Dante’s true emotions show, “If we had known that he had sworn allegiance to that… filth, we would not be speaking and your ‘problem’ would be six feet under with his precious abominations.”

Erica sighed internally. She’d been worried that she’d misjudged the amoral man, but even Dante had some sense of morality… though his was largely driven by control. The Cabal were too chaotic of a group to do business with.

“As a show of good faith, we would be happy to provide the Order with any information that would lead to his capture provided…”

Here it comes.

“That you hold neither the Inferno nor any of my employees accountable for his actions, no matter what role we might have had in them. You know how this works, Erica. Total immunity, total cooperation. And-”

“He’s been killing people, Dante,” the berserker cut him off, “that should be reason enough help us. We’re not paying you a cent.”

The man laughed.

For a couple seconds, Dante’s chuckles were the only noise in the otherwise total silence.

“Is it? He’s hardly the only person in your little town with that sin on their conscience, isn’t that right, Snow?”

Erica froze up, her skin feeling like the temperature of the room had dropped several degrees. Panic washed over her, and only years of training kept it from showing… though the same could not be said for the rage that twisted her expression. Dante, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the change in attitude.

“There’s the champion I remember,” he said excitedly. “You know, if you asked nicely, the Inferno would be more than happy to settle your account. ‘Wrath’ would love to have you back for a few more seasons…”

The berserker’s fingers twitched, but she restrained herself from lunging at Dante’s stupid, antagonizing face. This was all a part of his game, a negotiating tactic she’d played into far too often before.

“I’d sooner die. Just give me the information, starting with why you allowed someone to walk off with one of your customers. Last time I checked, you kept the killing to the pits and the slaves to the auction.” She violently wrestled down the feelings welling up and dug her fingernails into her palms to keep her rage from overflowing. “Tell me what happened to the Hawthorne bitch, or I’ll make sure that the Warden knows everything about your filthy ‘paradise’. I’m sure she won’t overreact.” Her body shivered, and smoke twirled around her fingers, but truthfully it was an empty threat. It’d cost the Order far too much to make that kind of move, even if they came out victorious. That’s why her boss had signed the Pact that allowed the Inferno’s connection to Springfield.

“My dear delightfully hateful Snow, you’ve already given me what I wanted to know.” Dante turned to his associate, purposefully ignoring the way the berserker blinked in worried confusion, “Send everything we have on file to Brighton Manor. Oh, and include the invoices for all the materials he purchased. Just to validate our claim that we were never directly involved in any breach of our,” he paused and savored the word, “obligations.”

He turned back to her and continued, “You’ll find Mortimer’s workshop located within a personal barrier beneath the Marlowe Mortuary. As of his last purchase, the project he was attempting was unfinished, but he may have reached a breakthrough with his latest victim.” Dante casually dismissed the act of **** as if it were a trivial occurrence. “Do take care, I rather enjoy these little chats. It’d be a shame to lose them to a… well, you’ll see.”

Erica’s turbulent emotions roiled inside her. He’d played her again, even when she’d been ready for it. Whatever Dante was after, he had it, and she was none the wiser. With no outlet for her rage, it turned inwards. How could she have been so stupid? She’d been baited like an amateur, and all it’d taken was a nickname.

“Sir, I think you may want to take a look at this.”

Dante’s victorious grin and Erica’s self-loathing scowl both vanished as the blond man placed the tablet in front of his boss. She couldn’t see what was on it, but the voice coming from it was all too familiar.

“Uh… Just… go clean yourself up. Your makeup’s a mess.”

What was John talking about? No, who was he talking to? It couldn’t be… Vanessa?

Dante looked over the edge of the device at her as any further conversation was cut off by the sound of running water. Erica burned with a drive to snatch the thing out of his fingers but held back on the knowledge that doing so would be an even dumber idea than the threats she’d made earlier. The Inferno was Dante’s castle, and without the backup of the Order’s knights and the Warden, she was just a single pawn on a chess board with fifty enemy queens.

The audio crackled with static, and a voice she couldn’t place screamed, “Master, no!” Erica was momentarily taken aback, but then a loud rushing noise filled the room for a second, before cutting off just as quickly as it had come. At the very end all they could hear was feminine sobbing and the sound of water dripping.

“What was that…” she asked without thinking. Her mind was too busy with all the terrifying possibilities to function properly. Frantically, Erica dug her phone out of her pocket and dialed John’s number. Every second that passed as it rang deepened her growing anxiety. When it switched over to voicemail, her horror was verified, and she could do nothing but stare at the screen as an automated voice played out a standard message.

She’d brought John here. He was her responsibility. She should never have taken her eyes off him, never. Whatever happened to him was her fault.

“It appears your friend has run afoul of a rather powerful enemy, a shame,” Dante’s words were the final straw.

“Tell. Me. What. Happened,” Erica snarled each word. The axe was in her hands now, to hell with the bastard’s rules. Her breath felt burning hot against her lips, and the only thing keeping her from lunging across the table to bury her weapon in the skull of the imbecilic asshole toying with her was the painfully raw knowledge it wouldn’t help John if she did. That and only that.

“No.”

Restraint snapped. The blade of her weapon swung through the air… and passed harmlessly through Dante, returning to smoke an instant before it could hit him. Erica closed her eyes and let her arms drop, trying to ignore the feeling of the knife against her throat.

Dante stood up and brushed himself off, “This meeting is over, Lady Carpenter. I will forgive your breach of my rules only because I respect your unique situation. Whether you believe me or not, I would like to help, but I cannot show blatant favoritism, no matter who it might be towards. Our deal stands, but nothing more. Keep that in mind.” He walked to the door as she remained carefully in place, and only as he left it did he signal to the blond man to release her. “As for your partner, his fate is in his own hands, but if you want to **** yourself further, then I won’t stop you. See it for yourself.”

The sense of pressure against her trachea vanished as Dante’s associate walked past her and exited after his boss, leaving Erica alone in the room. The tablet remained carefully placed on the desk facing away from her, one final temptation left by the infernal bastard.

She reached for it hesitantly. Even if it meant giving Dante one last victory, she had to know.