by J. A. Saare
A smartass after my own heart. “Do you want to keep that fifty, old man?”
He grumbled something I didn’t understand. Then he properly answered my question. “He was a white guy, dark shoulder-length hair. I didn’t get a look at his face.”
Damn. That didn’t tell me much. “What kind of clothes did he have on?”
“What’ve his clothes got to do with it?”
“Listen, pops.” I leaned forward despite the rancid smell. “I don’t have a problem paying for your answering services, but I’m all about customer satisfaction.” Moving slowly, I pushed aside my coat and revealed the holster complete with a gun tucked under my arm. “Don’t force me to take my money back. I don’t think either of us wants to go there.”
“You said you weren’t a cop.” He thrust the money back at me. “Take it and go.”
“I’m not a cop.” I released the jacket and tugged it over my chest. “I’m just your average bartender.”
“Bartenders don’t carry guns.”
I smiled. If only he knew the half of it. “This one does.”
“Look, lady, I’m not—”
I knew panic when I saw it, and I’d almost forced the poor bastard out of his comfort zone. I shoved his hand into his chest and gave him a thin smile. “Keep the cash and answer the question. The sooner you do, the sooner I’ll leave.”
“He was dressed in black, I think. It was too dark to tell.” His forehead creased as he rubbed his hands together and took a moment to think. “He had on gloves. I noticed them when he pulled out the knife.”
Good man. “Were you the one who called the police?”
He shook his head. “As soon as the coast was clear, I ran. I spent time in a few other places before I came back.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
“Hell no. I was too busy trying not to piss myself.”
Ah, the humiliating, but always entertaining, golden shower of terror. I couldn’t fault him there, even though I didn’t understand his worry over such a thing as he’d obviously had an accident or two inside his box home.
“I take it you haven’t seen the guy again?”
“Are you kidding?” He laughed, revealing several missing and rotten teeth. “No one wants to come around here now. That’s why I came back. Aside from the garbage collector who comes through once a week, no one’s going to mess with me.”
“Is there anything else you’d care to tell me?”
“No.”
“You’re positive?”
“I’m positive.” He lowered his head, rubbed his thumb over the folded bill in his hand, and muttered under his breath, “Crazy ass bitch. I need a fucking drink.”
And that about summed it up.
Old man would get his drink on, and I’d have to start from square one. I stood and took another look at the area, focusing on the spot where Autumn had been killed. There was an arching spray of darkened brown across the bricks—probably where her throat had been cut—as well as a large, dried up circle of blood on the ground.
I walked over and took a look.
Shit.
Her blood had to have gotten on the murderer. Considering the width of the circle at my feet, she spurted a fountain and the rest dripped down her body. Which begged the question: how in the hell had her killer managed to keep his clothing clean? He couldn’t traipse around covered in blood splatter for the world to see. Did he travel to the location by car? There was no way he could have used public transportation. Bloody attire would have drawn attention.
Then I saw it.
To the human eye, the footprint would have gone unnoticed, but since I’d taken some of Paine’s blood my vision was much stronger. The marking was faint, stamped with blood on concrete. I squinted, turning my head to get the right angle. I could barely make out the label, but when I did it told me several things. The killer could have afforded personal transportation to flee the crime scene. He wouldn’t have an issue when it came to money and visiting as many strip clubs as he liked. Anyone who wore Prada had plenty of dinero to spare.
“What’re you looking for?”
“Not a thing.” I stepped back, glanced at the hobo, and started walking from the alley. The phone in my back pocket buzzed and I pulled it out. As soon as I knew the identity of the caller, I flipped it open. I’d been expecting to hear from him.
“Hey, Goose. What do you have for me?”
Goose had been helping me search for the resting place of Marigold Vesta. I had to find her remains in order to return her to life and end the debt I owed the fallen angel. So far we hadn’t found much—apparently the fallen were protected because their history wasn’t recorded—which meant we had to start with unrelated events and work our way toward our goal. Goose had retrieved what he could using his necromancer research hotline, calling on favors from close associates.
Thankfully one resource was obsessed with the fallen, to the point she’d spent years documenting stories about them. I tried not to snicker when I thought about Mary Agnes Winstead, a woman who was raised Catholic, started seeing dead people and, as a consequence, had become part of a vampire household. Although I’d never had the pleasure of meeting her face to face, Goose warned me she wasn’t completely right in the head. Considering her obsession, I wasn’t surprised.
Mary had sent us dozens of files, most of them dating back a hundred years or more. Thanks to her dedication, Goose and I learned fallen angels descended from Heaven to protect the innocent from the taint of evil. Due to their connection with the Almighty, most people didn’t fuck with them. Unfortunately, in Marigold’s case, she was baited into a trap, killed, and her soul was forced to Hell. She’d then been given to none other than the King of Hell himself. Although Marigold’s actual name hadn’t been used in the text, it had to be our girl. It was the only story we found with so many similarities.
Not a great way to live out a century.
“She’s on holy ground.”
I stopped walking, wanting to be sure it wasn’t the wind and I had heard him correctly.
“Holy ground?”
“The information is sketchy and doesn’t pertain to Marigold specifically. It mentions monks coming across an unholy battle between an angel and demons. After the angel was killed, the monks fought off the menace and took her body to hallowed ground.”
My heart was beating a fast staccato. “Does it say where?”
“No.” Goose sounded as dejected as I felt upon hearing the news. “But don’t worry, I’m going to keep digging.”
“Thanks.” I started walking again, making my legs move faster to get to The Black Panther Club before my boss arrived. Deena had offered to do inventory but I’d dumbly told her I would take care of it. I figured the work would keep me busy, taking my mind off of Disco, Paine, and everything else I couldn’t control.
“This is good news, you know,” Goose said.
“Without a precise location, it’s not.”
“We have two things going for us, if you’d take your head out of your ass.”
I smiled, knowing he said it to pull me out of my funk. Goose never cursed, not unless he burned himself, stubbed his toe, or got really pissed off. “My head is now out of my ass.” I walked onto a street and cranked my feet into speed walking mode. “Start talking.”
“The record was found in the States. The place we’re looking for is here.”
“That’s one thing, what’s the other?”
“I’m certain we’ll find her in an abbey. The document is signed by an abbot.”
“So we’re looking for an abbey in the good ’ole U.S. of A. That should be cake.”
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” I could clearly envision Goose pacing around his office, annoyed and grinding his teeth. “Ever the smartass.”
“Sorry, it’s been a bad couple of days.” I remembered how battered he was from our tussle and winced. “Speaking of bad days, how are you holding up?”
“My bruises are fading, but
you broke my nose. Paine had to break it again so it would mend straight.”
That had to hurt like a bitch. Time to kiss up. “Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”
“No apology is necessary. You did what you had to. I know things got messy, but you didn’t lose your cool. That’s what’s important. My injuries will heal.”
“That’s good to know.”
There was a rasp in the speaker, as if Goose had changed ears. “Did you and Gabriel have a chance to talk?”
My unladylike snort caused him to chuckle. “If you want to call it that,” I muttered.
“You know Marius is coming.” Not a question, indicating he knew the answer.
“I do. I also know I have to be on my best behavior.”
“It might...” He stopped and I could almost hear his mental gears grinding. “Maybe you should come by so we can talk about everything. Marius is nothing like Gabriel or Paine. He’s...”
“One scary son of a bitch?”
“You have such a way with words.” He sighed into the phone. “That’s one way of putting it. He won’t tolerate anything that could create discord among the family. Since you’ve already created problems, you’re going to have to prove you’re worth keeping.”
“Worth keeping? Am I pet?”
“I’ve told you that to vampires we’re less than pets, we’re belongings.”
Belongings that could be easily disposed of. “So you have.”
Goose hesitated. Then he said softly, “He knows about you and Paine.”
I wanted to hang up and pretend I didn’t hear him. “Knows what about me and Paine?”
“Everything.”
Oh Christ. It was bad enough Goose and the family knew. “Disco told him?”
“Probably, although he didn’t necessarily have to. Vampires can usually tell when a human is...uh...intimate with another of their kind.”
“Technically, I haven’t been intimate with anyone since I returned. The Paine of the future isn’t the Paine of the present.”
“No, you haven’t.” Poor Goose, it was obvious he was extremely uncomfortable with the conversation. “But you share a connection with Paine now. Once a familiar bond has been created, it can’t be broken.”
And wasn’t that the kicker? I did have a connection to him, a weird sense of calm when he was around. Of course, that was also partially due to him keeping our mark open, allowing me access to his emotions. So far it had been fine. Paine was a friend, nothing more. But with Disco’s recent behavior, and now with Marius coming home, things were only going to become more complicated.
I sighed. “Go ahead and say it. You’re trying to tell me something.”
“The next few days aren’t going to be fun for you, Gabriel, or Paine. All of you are going to have to put your differences aside and get along. Gabriel called me and asked that I make you aware of how it might be and what you should expect.”
“Go on,” I said, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“The three of you...well...the three of you will have to be close.” Goose coughed and cleared his throat. “Extremely close.”
“How close you are talking?” It was wrong to goad him, to make him continue, but his embarrassment amused me. “Will I have to get down and dirty in front of the family? Are you telling Marius wants some ménage action to keep him happy?”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” The embarrassment vanished, leaving me with an angry Goose—exactly how I wanted him. Mission accomplished. “Stop being difficult and start being serious,” he snapped. “This isn’t funny.”
“Do you hear me laughing?” I asked, suddenly tired. The past couple of days really had stressed me out. Just when I cleared one hurdle, another appeared to take its place. Admitting that to myself was oddly deflating. When Goose didn’t respond, I said, “I know it isn’t funny. I’m just trying to take the edge off.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have that luxury.”
Of course I didn’t have the luxury of blowing off steam. Getting into a proper head space and finding my balance would make things easy. Couldn’t have that.
Fuck my life.
“So I’m going to have to make Marius believe I’m fine about having marks from Disco and Paine? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you.”
“I’m pretty sure I can pull that off, so long as Disco and Paine behave. If they start acting like assholes, there isn’t much I can do about it.”
“Don’t worry about that; they know what we’re dealing with.” His tone changed, becoming somber. He cleared his throat—the way he did when he was about to deliver bad news. I braced myself, waiting for his impending prophecy of doom. “It’s not Marius they’re really concerned about.”
I crossed the street, almost halfway to The Black Panther. “Care to enlighten me?”
“Marius is dangerous, but he’ll listen to Gabriel. They have a strong connection, one Marius doesn’t want broken. Even if he doesn’t believe the three of you, he’ll let it slide.”
I didn’t see the harm in that. “So what’s the problem?”
“Revenald.”
My pace slowed considerably. “What does Revenald have to do with any of this?”
Revenald was Marius’s sire—a half-demon—and someone I never wanted to meet. If I learned anything from my trip into the future—when I met Victoria Delcroix, a half-demon bitch I’d been forced to destroy—it was half-demons had zero regard for human life. They had no remorse, no regret. They took what they wanted and lived how they pleased. Humans meant nothing to them aside from a source of food and entertainment, easily replaced.
“Marius returned to visit the family once, when Sienna got into trouble.” Sienna. Disco’s former lover turned demon conjurer. “Within a couple of days, when Marius couldn’t resolve the problem on his own, Revenald arrived. The two share a mental link that can’t be broken, one so powerful I don’t even fully understand it. If Marius thinks you’re a threat, Revenald will know and he’ll come here. I don’t think that would end well.”
I’ll take under-fucking-statement of the year for five-hundred, Alex.
“Marius wants Sucker.”
“Give it to him.” Goose didn’t pause or take a breath as he snapped at me, something he rarely did. “Don’t risk your life over something as petty as slaying a half-demon. Let it go and move on. You’re not responsible for the fate of man.”
Wasn’t I? I had changed so much by returning to the present. Disco was alive and not dead. His family remained the most powerful in New York. I had killed a half-demon, erased the existence of a daughter Goose would never have, and I was getting deeper and deeper in the shit. Without Sucker, I was a dead necromancer walking. It was the only weapon in my arsenal that would kill a half-demon, the only thing capable of saving my ass if I found myself face to face with one.
“I’m not giving the blade up. That’s not open for discussion.”
“Rhiannon...” There was an underlying warning in his tone, an anger that didn’t normally come from Goose.
“I’ve already taken it to a safe place. Marius can get as pissed as he wants, but he can’t have it.”
“You could regret your actions more than you know. Revenald will hurt you. You have no idea how far he’ll go.”
“Then it’s a good thing he doesn’t know how far I’ll go.” I saw The Black Panther sign just as I strolled past Ruby’s Diner. I hoped it would be an easy afternoon doing inventory. I really needed a distraction from all things angel, half-demon, and vampire.
“Since you’re in one of your...moods,” Goose said and I just knew he wanted to add bitchy, “I’m going to redirect the conversation.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Are you moving your things to Gabriel’s tonight? The sooner you get situated, the better.”
“More than likely I’ll be there this afternoon. I have to stock the bar, go to my apartment and run som
e errands. When I finish, I’ll pack some things and go. Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m coming for a visit. There’s plenty of space.”
Ah, Ethan McDaniel. God love him. Ever the friend and protector. “What do you plan to do if the shit hits the fan?”
“I’m not sure. Hopefully I’ll be able to think of something. Why don’t I call a cab and pick you up around five o’clock? If we get there early we can talk to the family and sort things out before Marius arrives. We have a lot to discuss.”
That would give me several hours, which was more than enough time to take care of the bar and get all my eggs in a basket before I stepped willingly into a death trap.
“Five o’clock works. I’ll see you then.”
I snapped the phone closed and hurried to the club. It looked so normal during the day, like any other building aside from the sign with the silhouette of a naked woman in a martini glass. When I opened the door and stepped inside, the cleaning crew was hard at work. There was vacuuming to be done, tables and chairs to be sanitized, and a dancing stage to be polished to a glossy shine.
Strolling behind the bar, I took a look around. Deena dealt with the big stuff, like ordering and stocking the bar. It was my job to sort through the inventory and make sure everything was where it needed to be before we opened for business.
I’d just gotten started when my cell buzzed against my ass again. I rolled my eyes and pulled the phone out of my pocket. Once upon a time I didn’t own a cellular device. I preferred the old method of communication—the landline. It was nice when people couldn’t track me down with a push of a button. This time, there was no smile when I saw the screen.
Private Number.
Shit.
I was pretty sure this was another call I’d been expecting, although the timing was crap. So much for distracting myself with work. I popped the phone open and pressed it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“You inquired about an unmarked Browning?”
Yes, sir. The call I’d been waiting over a week for.
I’d only met Bane once—after I’d asked a few regulars at the shooting range about buying guns under the table. He hadn’t been friendly when he’d walked up, introduced himself and had gotten a smartass comment from me about his name. Nope, Bane was all business. And his name did suit him—as in the bane of someone’s existence. Not only was he big, he was friends with several thugs who practiced shooting at West Side. Thugs who happened to be gang members who pointed him in my direction. Dangerous, deadly, and likely to chew you up and spit you out. Bane in a nutshell.
