Soul Sucker
End Game

Lonnie Dortmund’s POV

Manhattan, New York City

Wednesday, March 29, 2023

I watched the District Attorney’s announcement near the back of the protestors led by my bought-and-paid-for Reverend. I was more than a little disappointed. I thought fanning the flames of racial unrest would work, but Mr. Miller was going to walk. Only ten of the twenty-three jurors voted to indict, short of the twelve required to return it.

John Miller’s legal woes weren’t over. The radicals were already pushing for a Federal civil rights violation case, the fallback position when local officials couldn’t give the desired outcome. The family would file a wrongful death lawsuit. It wouldn’t matter, so I turned away and started walking.

My strategy to take John out had failed. I pulled out a burner phone and made a call to another burner. Mom picked up after two rings. “You heard?”

“I’m watching the coverage on the satellite,” she replied. “Our target will be free now. Our man could even decide to take a beach vacation. We can’t allow that.”

“What do you suggest?”

There was a short pause. “The time has come for direct action. Keep an eye on him, but let’s keep our arrival a surprise.”

I had to agree; John Miller was just too dangerous right now. “I’ll be waiting.”

It had been a week since John discovered the cameras and computer bug I’d put in his apartment. There was no way I was getting in again, so I changed tactics. I took a short-term lease on an apartment across the street from his, one floor higher. I set up a surveillance base inside. Behind the closed curtains, I had a table full of equipment. Two cameras, each zoomed in on a window, fed monitors and a recorder. My radio receiver captured all the cellular telephone calls nearby. And my laser surveillance device was on a tripod, focused on his deck door where I could listen in on the conversations.

The three of us were nervous about what John was putting together. He’d been calling police and health officials and asking about men dying of unknown natural causes during the timeframes corresponding to her port calls. Nobody was going to believe a succubus was cruising the open seas and feasting on men’s souls, but it only took one. One suspicious cop, surveillance photo, eyewitness, or DNA left behind? It could all crash down on her.

Mom would starve to death in an all-female prison.

When John left for court in the morning, he put his suitcase in the back of his lawyer’s SUV. I knew he was going to Mary’s condo in New Jersey after the hearing, so there was no point in following him. Instead, I waited for Ingrid and Lana to arrive. “What is our best chance to get him,” Lana asked as she settled onto the couch.

“Not today,” I said. “There’ll be a bunch of people celebrating with him tonight. We can’t get near him. We’d be better off staging a car accident or a mugging. Anything to divert attention away from you and what he was investigating.”

“I have to do this,” Mom said. “My Master is taking this personally. He wants to take John Miller’s soul, so I must get him alone.”

“Shit,” I said as I leaned back.

“What are his plans?”

I laid out what I knew. John was going to spend tonight at Mary’s home. Tomorrow night the three would be at Terry Callahan’s home. After that, I didn’t know. “Show me Terry’s home.”

I pulled it up on Google Maps. It was a big suburban home with a large patio, hot tub, and pool in the backyard. A shed near the fence and some privacy plantings kept neighbors from looking in. We kicked around ideas before Mom made the decision.

We’d split up. Mom would take John Miller’s soul at the Callahan house, notifying us just before she moves in. Mary would break into the East Orange townhouse, and I’d take the Manhattan apartment. “We only have one chance to stop this,” Mom told us. “John has to die, and we must recover the dagger.”

“What about the wife and kid,” Lana asked. “John’s taught them about demon hunting, and they’ve read the journal.”

“They aren’t of the right bloodline,” I replied. “Without the sight to see the demons, the dagger is useless. The stories in the journal are bad fiction. Only fans of supernatural fiction would believe that a shape-shifting succubus is running around the country, sucking the souls out of rich men.”

Lana snorted. “You’d be surprised. They might get a movie deal.”

Mom chuckled at that. “Get your rest. Nothing can happen until the guests leave and the kids go to bed tomorrow night. We’ll meet back here when done.” She reached out and took one of our hands in hers. “I’m so proud of you, and I love you.”

“We love you too, Mom,” Lana said back.

“And we will do anything to protect you,” I added.

I was inside the building early on Friday, taking advantage of the rush of residents returning from work to get past the guard. I hid in a service closet near the elevator for hours while waiting for the phone call on Friday night. A text message from Lana said she was in place. Mom’s skills would be tested with a target home filled with adults, kids, and a dog.

It was after midnight when I got the text. “Go in five minutes good luck,” it told me.

I put the phone in my pocket and set a timer. I checked my kit, put my mask and gloves on, and left the closet with twenty seconds left. My back was tight from sitting, but it loosened as I walked down the hallway. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find ɴøᴠel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Getting old sucked, but living forever was no picnic either.

Thank God the apartment didn’t allow tenants to change out the locks. I used my gun and was inside in seconds. I knew from the last time that it didn’t call the police. I had my clone of John’s phone out and called the security center. “This is Miller in 1987. Ignore the alarm notification you’re about to get. The stupid thing isn’t resetting.”

“Of course, sir.” He didn’t even ask for a code because the caller ID was right. It was human nature. It was easier to tell someone to ignore an alarm before you get it.

With no worries about being discovered, I took an hour to go through the place with a fine-tooth comb. I didn’t find the dagger, but I did find an old sheath that must have held it at some point.

I collected all the notes, books, and photos he had, plus the computer hard drive. When I was satisfied, I walked back across the street. I sat in the apartment, turning on the television to a news channel and drinking a beer while I waited for the girls to return.

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