Deicide

by M. K. Gibson

  “What’s the name of the company?” Freeman asked.

  “Dolmades Imports,” Grmdjack said.

  “Deek?”

  “On it,” Deek said as he scoured information on his own data tablet. “Seems like Dolmades is an import/export company. Nothing major about them.”

  “Dolmades?” Ito asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Damn it,” Ito swore. “When Messer and I went to see Whiskers down in the Rot, the lawyer was a guy from a law firm called Dolmades Legal Defense. We didn’t follow up on it at the time because Whiskers had killed himself. That’s when Messer suspected there might be hits and sent me to snoop around and to call up Tasha. And he was right. Damn it!”

  “It’s okay,” Cassy said, reaching out a hand and placing it on Kyle’s. Her ex-husband gave her a look that only people who once loved each other could. Nodding, he looked over at Deek. “What do you have on Dolmades Legal Defense?”

  “It doesn’t really exist,” Deek said. “There is a building in Hags Hollow with phone numbers and taxes paid, but there is no real payroll, no staff, nothing.”

  “The lawyer’s name was Gareth Vikander,” Ito added.

  “He doesn’t exist,” Deek said. “It’s a shell company that on paper owns Dolmades Imports.”

  “Then who paid Whiskers a visit in jail then?”

  “That’s a question for when we don’t have an army of elves threatening to raze the city,” Cassy said while Gabby smiled and nodded.

  Deek tapped at the tablet, scanning police and civil records. “Ah hah. It seems that Dolmades Legal Defense is secretly owned by The Draco Leges Partnership in New Dorado.”

  Jessie looked over at Freeman. The older woman took the information in, then looked at Gabby, then at Grmdjack. “Gabby, would you be so kind as to return Mr. Grmdjack to his confinement?”

  “Does this mean I’ll get a lighter sentence?” Grmdjack asked as he stood from his seat.

  Gabby smiled, then waved her wand. A portal appeared behind the goblin and she shoved him through, sealing the portal as he passed.

  “Thank you.”

  Gabby gave Freeman a thumbs-up.

  “So, should I even ask what you did to get him to talk?”

  Gabby’s smile widened. She took out her phone and scrolled through the pictures. Finding the right one, she showed everyone the selfie she had taken from atop the Spear of Lugh. From the picture’s angle, Gabby was holding Grmdjack by his ankle and was dangling him over the edge of the massive tree with a view of the city far, far below. Gabby flashed the same mischievous grin she had in the picture.

  “Thank the gods for your immunity,” Freeman said.

  “Okay, way I see it, we have two approaches,” Cassy said. “Arby and I know Kilkenny, so we’ll find him and see what we can learn about the relics and how they tie into this. Kyle, take Gabby and DeLeon and pay a visit to Draco Leges. Put pressure on them. If they know the identity of the Laughing Man, then find it.”

  “Right,” Freeman said, nodding. “Deek and I will remain here and run tactical. But I think it goes without saying there’s a good chance either of these is a trap.”

  “I know,” Cassy said. “Which is why I have a backup plan.”

  Freeman gave her a look of respect and nodded. “Okay folks, it’s almost eight a.m. Which means we have about sixteen hours to nail this guy before the city is doomed. Any questions?”

  Arby raised his hand.

  Freeman sighed. “Yes?”

  “Messer said that there were cool gadgets and toys for us to play with?”

  Freeman cracked a smile. “Heh, yeah. Deek?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Get ’em outfitted.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  15 May - 9:02 am

  43 E. Stoker Way, The Umbra Cove Region, District of Shadow Lake

  “Feck’n hurry ye pack of gobdaws,” Padraig Kilkenny yelled from the catwalk outside his office to his crew of workers as they packed up crates in the secluded warehouse. “If ye don’t finish loading all this up by noon, I’ll make sure the Lamb of God stirs his hoof through the roof of heaven and kicks you all in the arses down to hell. I swear, you all are as dense as week-old manure but half as useful.”

  Kilkenny noticed one of his enforcers, a stocky, broad-shouldered tikbalang in a leather coat and a scully cap, talking to someone through the peep door on the warehouse’s side entrance.

  “Hey Bayani,” Kilkenny called down to the werehorse. “What’s going on down there?”

  Bayani took a couple steps away while thumbing over his shoulder. “You expecting visitors?”

  Kilkenny raised a bushy red eyebrow. “No. Why?”

  “Couple people outside saying they wanna talk to you.”

  “Who?”

  “Some dude and some chick in black clothes and white leather trench coats?”

  Kilkenny felt his heart sink. “Shite. Who are they?”

  “Dude’s a big brother with funny-colored hair. Says his name is Mr. Franklin. The chick has dark green hair, an amazing rack, and says her name is—”

  “Miranda Winters?” Kilkenny asked.

  “Yeah,” Bayani said. “So they cool?”

  “No, no they are not. Lock the door, stall them, and gimme time to—”

  The side door exploded inward, busting off its hinges, and skittered across the concrete floor into a stack of wooden crates. The explosion caused workers to drop their crates, while enforcers took cover and pulled their weapons.

  Kilkenny watched as Deacon and Cross walked in. Each of them carried wands. Cross’s still crackled with magical energy. Deacon paused to stand in the rubble from the small explosion. He lifted his sunglasses and looked down at Bayani, who had been knocked to the floor.

  “Hey there, pal. Why the long face?” Deacon asked the werehorse, overly pleased with himself.

  Kilkenny rolled his eyes.

  “Hey there Patty,” Cross called up from where she stood under the catwalk. “We should have a talk.”

  Ah, feck. “Fine. Okay, let ’em up, boys. But finish the packing. And you . . . you owe me a new feckin’ door!”

  *******

  15 May - 9:09 am

  43 E. Stoker Way, The Umbra Cove Region, District of Shadow Lake

  Cassy set the small crystal on Kilkenny’s small desk, then leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs. “So, why did you run?”

  Kilkenny eyed the crystal. “What’s that?”

  “A fun toy,” Arby said from where he stood in front of the door. “Keeps you from teleporting out of here. Now answer her question. Why’d you high-tail it out of there?”

  Kilkenny rolled his eyes. “Why the feck would I stay behind in jail?”

  “You agreed to be our CI,” Cassy said.

  “Use your brains,” Kilkenny spat. “What good is a CI in jail? Short answer: they ain’t. So I escaped with everyone else when the whole place went boom.”

  “Oh, Arby, did you hear that? He was helping us. Silly us.”

  Arby smiled. “That’s great. I guess he was going to call us any moment now to explain why he was packing up crates of magical artifacts. Although from a certain point of view, it might look like he was trying to skip town.”

  Kilkenny shook his head. “No, no, ye got it all wrong. I was—”

  “Trying to skip town,” Cassy finished.

  “Well, do ye blame me?” the leprechaun said, throwing his hands in the air. “Have ye been outside? It’s crazy out there. People are going nuts with the attack on the police station. Cops crackin’ down on everyone who even looks suspicious. Being an organized criminal, weird as it may be, relies on order. Chaos? Bah. No one makes money that way.”

  “We had a deal,” Cassy said. “And you’re breaking that deal.”

  “Duh . . . crook,” Kilkenny said, poking his chest with his thumb.

  “Well, while you’re here, go ahead and tell us about the relics and the Laughing Man,” Arby said.

&n
bsp; Kilkenny looked up at him. Cassy watched as the myth went to say something, then shook his head. Apparently dancing around the truth wasn’t worth the effort. He shook his head. “Feck.”

  Kilkenny reached into his drawer and pulled out three glass tumblers. With a clink, he set them on the desk. Next, he produced a large bottle of scotch. He poured a couple of fingers’ worth in each of the tumblers.

  “We’re on duty,” Cassy said.

  “Who said these were for you?” Kilkenny said, then proceeded to down each of the glasses back to back. “Ooh, yes, that’s the stuff.”

  “Kilkenny,” Cassy said.

  “Shh,” the leprechaun said as he grimaced at the volume of whiskey he had slammed back. “To be feckin’ frank, I’m leaving. I’m going back to Ireland.”

  “You know myths aren’t really welcome outside the city,” Arby said.

  “Like I feckin’ care. I’d rather hide under a cheap Galway glamour than stay here and live in fear of that madman.”

  “You mean the Laughing Man,” Cassy said.

  “Yeah,” Killkenny said. “He’s bad news. Runs all kinds of drug operations, Vitae, as I’m sure you know. A while back, he put a call onto the streets. Top dollar for relics and artifacts of power. I already had a nice collection, as I’m sure you remember, Ms. Winters. So it was a good fit, right?”

  “Something happened?”

  “Feck yes!” Kilkenny spat. “Crazy bollocks is killin’ off anything and anyone that could lead back ta him the moment he even suspects something is up. So here I am, a known supplier of relics cornered by the feckin’ APD. You two eejits put the last nail in my tiny coffin. So while I still have air in me lungs, I’m taking what I got left and making a run for it.”

  Cassy and Arby exchanged glances. “What does he want with them?”

  “Don’t know,” Kilkenny said. “Don’t care.”

  “Bullshit,” Cassy said. “You’re smart, you have to know something.”

  Kilkenny sighed. “I hear things.”

  “Like what?” Arby asked.

  “That he’s using them to somehow step up production of his drugs. Something to do with some kind of machinery. But that’s all I know. People who poke their noses too far tend to get go missing.”

  “Who is he?” Arby asked.

  “No one knows. But I hear he operates out of every district. I don’t know how he does it, but the bastard is everywhere.”

  “We can protect you,” Cassy said.

  “Can ye now?”

  “Yes.”

  The leprechaun arched an eyebrow. “And make me rich? No? Didn’t think so. Big shite’s brewing in the city, my law enforcement friends. Big shite. And I don’t plan on being here when it all goes down.”

  “When what goes down?” Arby asked.

  “Heh, so much for our boys in blue knowing what’s really going on in the city. You think the Laughing Man is a problem? Heh. You don’t know anything. No, I think I’ll take my chances out there.”

  Kilkenny poured the last few drops of the bottle into one of the glasses, cursed, and went back to the drawer of his desk, apparently rummaging for a second bottle.

  “We can’t let you leave,” Cassy said. “You know that. We need you to set up a meet with the Laughing Man.”

  “You’re feckin crazy.”

  “Can you do it, or not?” Arby asked.

  “And why should I?” Kilkenny asked, pausing his search for more alcohol.

  “As a favor to us,” Arby said with a smile.

  “What would I tell him? Hmm? That my cop friends want a meet?”

  “No, of course not,” Cassy said. “But you said it yourself. You sold him relics. Call him up and tell him you have another shipment you wanna unload before you leave town.”

  “You don’t know what you’re asking,” Kilkenny said as he resumed his search. “I do that, and I’m marked as a narc. You take him down thanks to me, and I’ll be dead no matter where I go.”

  “You’re a CI,” Arby said. “A confidential informant. Emphasis on the confidential. You set up the meet and we’ll make it look like we’re busting you both. If you somehow escape in the kerfuffle?”

  “I can live with that,” Cassy said.

  “Sure I can’t tempt you two with a drink? Because I damn sure wanna be more than a little buzzed if I agree to this.”

  “Sorry,” Cassy said. “Like I already said, we’re on duty.”

  “Shoulda taken the drink. Woulda made this all go a lot smoother,” Kilkenny sighed as he pulled his hand from the drawer. Instead of a bottle of booze, the leprechaun was holding a vial of Vitae. With a smooth motion, Kilkenny popped the top and ingested the contents of the vial.

  “Shit!” Arby said, reaching for his wand.

  “Oh, yes. Now that’s the stuff!”

  “Move!” Cassy yelled as she jumped up from her chair.

  Kilkenny’s suit ripped and fell away as the leprechaun doubled in size. At just over six feet tall, he was still shorter than Arby, but heavy with muscle. Kilkenny’s eyes, glowing with an orange light, scanned the agents. “Yer fucked.”

  Cassy watched as Kilkenny gripped the edge of his desk with one hand and flipped it towards her. She dove out of the way just as the cheap sheet metal desk slammed against the small office’s far wall.

  Arby pointed his wand and spoke a word of command, but nothing happened.

  “What the shit?!”

  “Safety’s on!” Cassy yelled.

  “There’s a safety?”

  “Your thumb, numbnuts! It has to be on the, oof—!” Cassy grunted as Kilkenny’s leg caught her in the stomach and lifted her off the ground.

  “On the what?” Arby said as he waved and slashed the wand in the air. “Work, you stupid thing! Expecto explodo! Swish and flick? What the fuck?!”

  “First wand, boyo?” Kilkenny said as he turned on Arby with a smile.

  “Does it show?” Arby asked with a sigh. He put the wand away and held up his fists. “Come on, ya overgrown lucky charm. I always preferred Captain Crunch anyway.”

  “If I had my shillelagh, I’d show you what a magic piece of wood could do.”

  “Look like you already have it,” Arby said, looking the naked myth up and down. “Too bad that even at double your size . . . it’s still a twig.”

  Cassy groaned.

  The enraged and drug-fueled Kilkenny charged Arby and drove him into the drywall. Arby grunted in pain as his back hit one of the studs in the wall. Kilkenny’s forearm was under his throat, and he wheezed and gasped for air. Getting to her feet, Cassy jumped on the leprechaun’s back and wrapped an arm around his neck, attempting a chokehold.

  “Why didn’t you pull your gun?!”

  “Did—didn’t . . . think . . . of it,” Arby rasped. “P-please don’t let me d-die by at the h-hands of a n-naked . . . giant . . . leprechaun. Oh god . . . I can feel it against my leg. Bad touch. Need an adult.”

  Cassy pulled hard, but the enhanced myth didn’t budge. Arby fought back, throwing several hard uppercuts to the leprechaun’s ribs, but Kilkenny ignored the attacks and continued pressing his arm into Arby’s throat. In moments, the big man went slack from the lack of air. Kilkenny took a step back and Arby collapsed to the floor.

  “Arby!” Cassy yelled.

  She loosened her grip and went for her gun, but Kilkenny flipped her over and slammed her on the office floor. Kilkenny brought his foot up and then stomped her hard in the stomach. The air exploded from her lungs and her head slammed back hard to the ground. Kilkenny dropped a knee into her chest and squeezed her throat with a large, gnarled hand.

  “That’s it . . . go to sleep.”

  She punched at him as best she could, but with each passing second, she felt herself get weaker and weaker, as her brain shut down from the lack of air. Finally, she lost all strength. Her hands fell limply to the ground.

  “Good girl. You just rest,” Kilkenny said.

  Cassy choked and watched Kilkenny thro
ugh half-closed eyes. Walking back to where his desk was, he rooted though the mess until he found a burner phone. Picking it up, he dialed a single number.

  “Hey, it’s me. Yes sir, I have the final shipment ready. But I have something else for you. Call it my final gift. What is it? I’m sending you a picture now.”

  Kilkenny turned the phone around and took a picture.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  15 May - 10:18 am

  Draco Leges Partnership, Legal Practice, District of New Dorado

  Jessie pulled on the lapels of her white leather trench coat, still in awe that she was wearing it. From beside her, Ito chuckled.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he said with a grin.

  “You’re reading my mind, aren’t you?”

  “No, not really. Well, I mean, yeah, I’m picking up a little of your joy. But I also remember the first time I put it on,” Ito said, tapping her coat with his tail. “I felt the same way. Although I don’t think I looked nearly as doofy.”

  Gabby flicked Ito on the ear with a long finger. Ito looked back and Gabby shook her head.

  “What?”

  Gabby crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out.

  “Okay, so I may have looked just as doofy.”

  Gabby took out her phone and scrolled through her pictures until she found the right one and put it in front of Jessie. Jessie began to laugh. “Wow. Yeah. Nice fauxhawk.”

  “Shut up,” Ito laughed as he rubbed at his fur-like hair. “You try doing something with this.”

  They continued to walk up the path from where they had parked. The district of New Dorado was an oasis of opulence. A place for the obscenely wealthy and powerful. Thanks to the natural beauty of the Alaskan landscape, each business park or row of mansions was hidden from sight by copses of trees or mountain rises.

  Ahead of them, Jessie saw the tall, sleek, stylized building of the Draco Leges Partnership. Dark glass obscured prying eyes from looking in, and expensive luxury cars filled the parking lot.

  As they approached, the glass doors whisked open. Inside the cavernous marble lobby, high-powered people in overpriced suits moved and chattered with incredible energy.