The Vampire in the Iron Mask by J.R. Rain

Author:J.R. Rain
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery, Fantasy, Vampires
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, Inc.
Published: 2012-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I stepped into AJ’s gun shop.

The shop is located in a not-so-nice area of Hollywood. Hookers, dealers, crazy people with big signs warning of the end of the world. It was late afternoon, and another customer was buying supplies. AJ nodded a greeting to me. I nodded back and waited until the customer left.

“What can I do you for?” There were hundreds, hell, probably thousands of gun and ammo dealers in Los Angeles, but AJ was one of those who respected privacy. And confidentiality. Two virtues that I considered essential. At least in a gun dealer.

“Lock the door,” I said softly. “Turn off your cameras.”

AJ was a tough guy. In his business, you had to be tough. He looked like a muscle-head bouncer, but was far more shrewd. He was six-foot-four and none of his two hundred and forty pounds were fat. His head was shaved, and he had tattoos up and down his massive body, including an unlikely pair of red lips on his scalp.

We’d known each other for a few years, and he respected my work. Hopefully, he still would after my purchases today. He flipped a switch under the counter, turning off the cameras, and crossed the room in two long strides to bolt the door. He also turned his door sign around to: “Closed.”

AJ knew I was in the business of finding lost kids, but he never asked me questions. Smart. The less you know and all that. But he wasn’t quite prepared for this request.

“I need two semi-automatics that can hold silver bullets,” I said, as if I were ordering coffee. Or maybe a Bloody Mary. Pun intended.

AJ regarded me a moment with a stone-faced expression, then went into the back. I listened as he shuffled around a few things, and soon he returned with a long, polished wooden box and a few boxes of ammo. He watched me expectantly, arms crossed over his chest.

“May I?” I asked.

He grinned and opened the box. The inside was lined with red velvet that surrounded the finely made but very lethal rifle. The piece itself was hard, smooth silver. The handle was crafted out of obsidian. It was beautiful, a work of art. If an assault rifle could be considered as such.

“This here’s a Colt M4 Carbine,” he said. “Silver plated. Carries ninety-rounds per clip, and has a custom extended extra clip for easy…ah…access.”

I drew it out of the casing. It felt heavy but comfortable in my hands. I could see the red-aim dot at the top.

“Nice,” I commented. I held the weapon’s butt to my right shoulder and took aim at the mirror. It wasn’t loaded, but I still felt a chill, and a perverse sense of power holding it.

I set the Colt back into its velvet case. “What about the bullets?”

AJ pulled a carrying case out of one of the boxes. “These are lead, but silver chrome plated. They’re hollow points, and the BBs inside are also silver.”

A hollow-point meant the bullet would explode upon impact.

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