"Is this the guy?" Felicia asked.
"Yeah, that's him. Where'd you find him?"
"Hartford," Oliver said. He had a very calm, quiet voice. "The convenience store where he works was robbed, and another clerk was stabbed. They took prints from all the store's employees so that they could sort out which belonged to the suspect. The prints were put on file and the company found them."
"You found them, Oliver," Felicia corrected.
He favored her with a small smile.
I nodded at the bruisers. "You been sweating him?"
"Just doing a lot of looming," Felicia said. "Apparently, he doesn't scare easy."
I snorted. "No. He wouldn't. Hi, Dex."
Now that I'd spoken to him by name, Dex let out his breath in a hiss. "I did what you told me to. I stayed away from New York."
"That's good," I said.
"Then what do you want?" he asked.
"I want you to talk to me about Morlun."
"He's dead," Dex said in a monotone, and closed his eyes. "What else is there to say?"
"I'm sure there must be something," I told him. "His sister and his two brothers seem to be really upset about the whole situation."
Dex looked up at me sharply, and for a second his expression became frightened, before congealing into that ratlike calculation again. He said nothing.
"Dex? Did you hear me?"
"Yes." He took a deep breath. "What makes you think I know anything?"
"You were with Morlun for a while. You ran his errands. Handled his books. Went out for coffee. You were his Renfield."
"No," Dex said, in that same flat monotone.
"Renfield got to die; Dracula killed him. Morlun kept promising, but he never would do it."
I wasn't sure which was creepier—the words Dex had said, or the way my instincts told me that the faint shades of longing in his eyes were entirely genuine.
"Dex," I said. "I know he was a monster. But I'm looking at three more just like him up here, and I need to know whatever you can tell me."
"Or what happens?" A faint sneer colored his voice. "You tell them about me?"
"No," I said. "They're blaming me for his death. I doubt they know or care who you are. You aren't in any danger."
"I wouldn't say that," Felicia said sweetly. "Dex, Spidey is a longtime associate of mine. I'd be very upset if something happened to him."
"Oh," Dex said. He paused for a moment, then asked, "What are you going to do to them?"
"Whatever I have to," I said.
And then something in the man's demeanor changed. In that instant, his weakness and fear abruptly vanished, and his eyes widened, gleaming.
"Kill them," he said, his voice suddenly hardedged, hot, eager. "You beat him. You beat him. You can do it again; you can beat them again. You can kill them. Kill them.
All of them. Promise me you will kill them, and I'll tell you everything you want to know."
He stared at me, panting as if he'd run up a long hill, fever-bright eyes locked on my face. I'm not a therapist, but I've been around it enough to know what crazy looks like, and Dex was it. Something told me that if I pushed him or put him under any pressure or strain, he might crack.
Violently.
After all, I'd seen him do it once before.
I had to give him what he wanted. Or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof.
"Talk to me," I said, gently, "and I promise you that I will send them to the next world."
Dex choked out a breath and his eyes sagged halfway shut. He let out a low, shuddering sigh, a disquietingly intimate sound, and closed his eyes. Then he said, "What do you want to know?"
"Tell me about Morlun's feeding habits," I said.
He paused for a moment, frowning in concentration, gathering his thoughts. "Morlun was never alone when he fed. Sometimes he would dismiss me for days. But always, when he fed or hunted, I was there. Always."
"I thought they only fed every few years," I said.
"From the source, yes," Dex said. "The pure, primal life energy. Like yours. But others have the same energy, though in lesser quantity, very diluted. It wasn't very satisfying to him, but it pleased him to snack on such folk from time to time."
"Like popcorn," I said.
Dex smiled at me. His teeth had been stained by cigarettes. Too much of the whites of his eyes showed. "Like popcorn. Normal humans with some kind of personal association with a totemic source.
Something about their personality brushed on the source, gave them a minuscule amount of the same energy."
"Someone like a lion tamer," I said quietly. "Or someone who worked with and rode and loved horses. Maybe Grizzly Adams."
"Yes," Dex said. "Those, he'd take every few months. And always he made sure I was there."
"Why?"
"To watch for intrusion," Dex said. "To notify him if anyone approached. He was very specific about it. Paranoid, really, even for him. He would repeat the instructions every single time, in full, every time."
"Do you remember them?" I asked.
Dex shuddered and licked his lips. "I remember everything." He folded his arms and shook his head several times. I gave him a minute to work himself up to it. Felicia leaned forward and began to speak, but I made a small, discouraging gesture with one hand. She saw it, and for a second I thought she'd go ahead anyway—but then she settled back into her seat and waited.
Dex looked up and spoke. His voice, when it came out, hardly sounded like his own—it had gained richness and depth and had taken on a faint, vaguely British accent. It sounded a lot like Morlun. "Pay attention, Dex."
Then Dex answered in his own voice, toneless and quiet. "Yes, Morlun."
His voice changed back to that echo of the An-cient's. "The usual arrangements are in place? A private suite?"
'Yes, Morton."
"Security has been notified that I wish privacy?"
"Yes, Morlun."
"You are armed?"
"Yes, Morlun."
"You have checked the locks?"
"Yes, Morlun."
"The windows?"
"Yes, Morlun."
"The outer cameras are in place?"
"Yes, Morlun."
"The new locks to my chamber door are installed?"
"Yes, Morlun."
"Give me the keys."
Dex held out his hand, his eyes focused on nothing, as if dropping something. "Yes, Morlun."
"You will remain on guard outside my door."
"Yes, Morlun."
"If the security measures are disturbed, by anything whatsoever, however small, you are to make me aware of it at once. If any unauthorized persons appear, you are to slay them."
"Yes, Morlun."
Silence fell. Oliver looked more than a little uncomfortable. The bruisers were creeped out. Heck, even Felicia had that narrow-eyed, casual stare she got when she put her poker face on.
Dex hadn't simply been sharing a memory. He'd been all but reliving it. For him, it had been almost as real in replay as in real life. God, what torture, to remember every twisted detail experienced under the thumb of a thing like Morlun.
"Eidetic memory," I said quietly. "And then some."
Dex opened his flat, lifeless eyes and shrugged a shoulder. "It's why he chose me. It made me more useful to him."
"I take it he would bring victims back to a prepared location," I said.
"Yes. It wasn't difficult for him. He was charming, when he needed to be."
"Must have been the cravat," I said. "Did he always use additional security forces?"
"Yes. Sometimes hired bodyguards. Sometimes hotel or resort security. Sometimes he would use underworld muscle."
I nodded. "Sounds like he shut even you away."
"Yes. Morlun never wanted to be disturbed while he fed."
While he fed… Blast it, the answer was there. It was in there somewhere, so close I could taste it. I had what I needed, but for the life of me, I couldn't piece it together. Literally. It was like working out a badly tangled cord—if I could just find one end and get it out of the first stubborn knot, I was sure the rest would be workable.