by Tim Marquitz
“I don’t know what your problem is—”
“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare.” The words came out in a slow seep, each one tasting of bile. Spittle peppered her face, but she didn’t move to wipe it away. Her big blue eyes stared at me, and I could have sworn I saw a glimmer of realization there.
“I—”
“Don’t,” I repeated, baring my teeth. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, and I don’t want to hear your lies.”
She squirmed, backing up and getting slowly to her feet. Her eyes never left mine.
“What do you want me to say, Frank?”
“You can start with telling me why you did it.”
Her breathing was shallow and fast, and there was nothing she could do to hide her guilt. As such, she didn’t bother. We’d been here a dozen times before. She was comfortable on the receiving end of my wrath.
“I knew you wanted me to keep Rala safe,” she said. “I did that.”
A chuckle slipped free of me, the sound insane even to my own ears. “Are you seriously going to claim you did it for me?”
She started to say something else but decided against it.
“These people you made a deal with, do you know who they are?” I asked, barely able to form words through my rage.
She nodded. “Government,” she answered. “DSI.”
I shook my head. “No, they’re murderers, that’s it.
Her eyes narrowed, unsure of where I was going with this, but determined to listen to every word so she could work an angle to get away from me. That’s what she did.
“They’re the same bastards who raided Hell to get to Rala.” I bit back the urge to hit her and went on. “They’ve meticulously destroyed every scrap of property connected to me. Three houses have been torched, laid to waste, everything inside them gone to ash. Every photo, every stick of furniture, every memory. Gone. Poof!”
Veronica swallowed as I talked, knowing how little I cared about material possessions. Lucifer had spoiled me when it came to shit like that. I’d the best of everything my entire life, Daddy’s effort at buying a minion he could manipulate one day. She knew all that, and I could see the concern growing in her eyes as she translated the fury of my expression.
“These same people are working for Shaw and her alphabet soup agency, the same people you bargained your life for against mine.”
“I didn’t think they’d be able to hurt—”
I raised a hand and cut her off. “Doesn’t matter what you thought, Veronica.” I pointed behind me. “I stood just a few rooms over while you traded my life for yours, sealing the deal with Thud right here in this building.”
Her shoulders slumped at hearing the demon’s name, and she didn’t bother trying to deny it. She knew she’d been caught.
“These people killed Karra.” I let the words hang in the air for a moment.
Veronica flinched at hearing that. A tremble crept into her hands, her fingers squirming to regain control. “I-I didn’t know, Frank. I’m—”
“You’re what, Veronica? Sorry?” I laughed. “Oh, I fucking doubt that. You’re not capable of being sorry. It’s just not in your DNA.”
“I wouldn’t have done it if I had known, Frank. You’ve got to believe me.”
“Do I? Do I have to believe you?” I asked. “You’ve done nothing but betray me at every turn, your knife in my back so often that I’ve begun to feel as though it belongs there; that it should be there. Shit, I’ve gotten so fucking comfortable with it there that I never seem to notice it anymore. I’ve forgotten or forgiven it every time. It’s like I have fucking Stockholm syndrome.” With a grunt, I swiped away the wild hair that had fallen in front of my eyes. “Fool that I am, I could have even forgiven you for joining up with the monsters that killed Karra because I truly believe you hadn’t known they’d done it.”
I closed on her so that we were just inches apart, her warm breath tickling my beard. “I could have forgiven almost anything you’d done, Veronica, because deep down, buried at the core of me, I still love you; I still care about you.”
She went rigid, and I could see her searching for the door that fit the key I’d just shown her. The tingle of her powers crept over me despite her knowing they wouldn’t work.
“I could have forgiven you had you done anything else but what you did.” I grabbed her by her throat and forced her against the wall. “That little demon stump made it clear Shaw didn’t want just me, Veronica. She wanted me and my daughter.”
A light went on behind Veronica’s eyes. It was right then she realized just how far she’d pushed me and that there was no way back from this point. I felt her throat bobble against my palm as I squeezed
“My daughter, Veronica,” I continued. “Her name is Abigail, not that you care. She has her mother’s eyes, her brains, and my temper, and she’s perfect. A tiny little bundle of helpless joy who never did anyone harm, and not once did you think of her when you tried to save your own ass. No, you simply rolled over and gave her up to Shaw, part of the deal to get you out of the crosshairs. You chose yourself over an innocent baby.”
I lifted her up by her throat, sliding her against the wall until her feet dangled a foot above the floor. She gasped, clawing at my hand but nothing in the world could pull me away right then.
“You would sacrifice my daughter just to survive.” Tears bubbled in the corners of her eyes, trails of silver running down her cheeks. “I could have forgiven you almost anything, Veronica, but not that.”
I pulled a pistol free of its holster and pressed it against her forehead. Veronica stopped squirming as the cold steel touched her skin. Unable to breathe, she couldn’t complain or plead or even whimper, and that was fine with me. Her eyes did all of the above for her, and I ignored them all.
“My child, Veronica. My baby. The only connection I have to her mother now that she’s been killed.” I drew a cleansing breath into my lungs and met her terrified stare. “Could this have ended any other way?” I asked but didn’t give her the opportunity to answer.
I pulled the trigger.
#
I found Rala and Vol in a secured room on the opposite side of the building. The old man sat cross-legged on the floor, his blind eyes staring in the direction of the door when I entered.
“The man of shadows returns,” Vol said, spitting out his wisdom as he always did. The guy was fucking nuts. “Ruby stains your soul. The end has begun, the beginning ended—”
I groaned and waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. Blue is black, yellow is the new magenta. Up is only down when it’s wet. Yeah, I get it.”
He went silent with a huff.
“Frank!” Rala hopped up, surprise smeared across her face at seeing me.
Her black stripes were scrunched at her nose, standing out sharply against the orange of her fur, and she stared at me through wide eyes. She’d grown up a little since the last time I’d seen her. Her features were fuller, some of the sharp edges rounded off a bit. The kid was still whipcord thin but where there’s been nothing but skin and bone, she now had curves, her chest and hips filling out. I looked away as soon as I realized I was staring.
“What are you doing here?” she asked?
“I came to take you back to Hell.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it had been part of the plan.
She looked me over, seeing the burnt flesh and blood spattered across my face and chest. “What happened?”
“I’ve been busy hunting those guys who attacked you down in Hell.”
Her furry little eyebrow popped up. “What guys?”
I stared at her a moment, wondering if she was messing with me, but nothing in her expression told me she was. It hit me then. Veronica hadn’t even told her she was in danger. I sighed, unsure if that was a good thing or not. Finally, I decided it didn’t matter.
“Don’t worry about it. Just pack what you have and let’s go.”
She nodded and went over to help Vol to his feet. “Where’s Veronica? Will she meet
us there?”
I hesitated just an instant before answering. “Yeah, she’ll be around once she’s finished taking care of something.”
Vol sneered at me after Rala wandered into the adjoining room to collect their baggage.
“You bear the stench of a man who bathes in his sins.”
“You have no idea.” Rala came back into the room then, and I opened a gate for them down to my chambers in Hell. “Things have changed in the past day—had it been so little time?—so let the fiends know what you need and they’ll take care of you. And don’t worry about the Goth convention that’s taken up residence and moping in the hallways. They’re good people. People you can trust. Just don’t ask them how their day’s going.”
“You’re not coming now either?”
“Not yet,” I said, biting back my frustration at her questions. The kid had gotten awfully comfortable with Veronica in recent times. She wasn’t gonna appreciate hearing what happened, even if I lied about it. Putting it off was best for now. “One more errand to run, and I’ll be back after that. I’ll see you in a little bit.”
Rala took me at my word and helped Vol through the gate. The old man glared empty-eyed daggers at me until I tossed their bags through and shut the portal behind them. He and I could squabble over my deeds later. I still had shit to do.
A liar’s work is never done.
Fifteen
A short while later, I was back at the liquor store wearing a dark hoodie I’d taken from a clothesline.
I snatched up two bottles of Jack—one for Marcus and one for me—waved at Anjasa, and then headed back up the stairs to the apartment above the laundry. The stink met me halfway, the door cracked open. The place didn’t smell any better this time than it did the last.
“Ah, my favorite prick returns,” Marcus grumbled at me from the couch.
“Not to disparage your life choices, live and let live I always say, but the fact that you have a favorite prick makes me wonder whether all that aggression you have towards me isn’t a cover for feelings unrequited.”
“Just give me a bottle and shut the fuck up, Trigg.” He held his hand out, and I slapped the Jack into it. He had a third of it drank before I’d settled into the chair across the way and opened my own.
“Good day for a stiff one?”
He wiped his mouth and swallowed loudly before bothering to answer. “Still going to pretend we’re friends and you give a damn?” he asked, clearly missing the innuendo “Cut the shit. I did what you wanted me to, now take me to Poe.”
I leaned back in the chair and shook my head, pulling back the hood. “First, tell me what they said.”
He spit at me, the glob of phlegm splattering on the table and dripping off the edge.
“Well, that answers whether or not you swallow, but it really doesn’t tell me what I want to know.”
He took another swig, glaring the entire time. “They agreed and are moving forward like you expected them to.”
Finally things were moving the right direction. “When?” I hit the bottle, letting its warmth burn down my throat. Too bad the shit wouldn’t get me drunk.
“Do I look like I have their event calendar handy?”
“No, but you look like a jackass who’s going to miss out on an opportunity to see his recently-revived friend because he couldn’t keep a respectful tongue in his fucking mouth.” My anger, still floating just below the surface, clawed to get out. I drank some more hoping to head it off. The alcohol might not do much for me but maybe it would soften the edges. I had a sneaking suspicion spending the evening with Marcus would only push me further in the wrong direction.
Marcus must have decided it wasn’t worth testing me. He raised his hands in surrender. “All right, man. All right. They should follow through after dark tonight; probably closer to midnight. Least that’s what they told me.”
“Fair enough,” I told him, chugging down enough liquor so that our bottles were about even.
We both just sat there for a while, staring at each other and drinking, until it got too much for Marcus to bear.
“So, you going to do what you said or…” He let the other possibilities hang in the ether. There was the expectation of disappointment in his voice.
“I have to tell you something first.”
He groaned and downed more of the bottle before coming up for air. “What a fucking surprise.”
“I’m not sure exactly where Poe is right now.”
He didn’t bother to say anything, letting his drinking say everything that needed to be said.
“I’m not a total shit, though.”
“Coulda fooled me.”
“Get your shoes on.”
“Why?” he asked. “You taking me out to dinner for bullshitting me, cupcake?”
“Nah,” I said, drinking a bit more and tossing the bottle aside. It crashed somewhere behind me, shattering with a wet pop. “Today seems to be a good day to kiss the ass of karma. Let’s go find us find us a mentalist before I change my mind.”
#
While I’d told Marcus I wasn’t sure where Poe was, I had a reasonably good idea where to start looking, the options narrowed down to a dozen locations, give or take a couple. What I hadn’t told him—at least not until we started our hunt, because why shouldn’t I aggravate him?—was that I was using him as bait. Of course, I also hadn’t told him I needed to talk to Poe again, which was the main reason I’d been willing to put up with Marcus at all. DRAC and I had lost the element of surprise taking out the kid. Though I’d corralled everyone back in Hell where they couldn’t be reached just yet, we’d moved into a forced détente with Trinity and company. I couldn’t see us coming out on top if we had to wait, lingering in Hell.
The first place we went to look for Poe was the compound where Shaw had introduced herself and the DSI to me. Of course, that was after she had me shot in the fucking head by one of her team’s snipers. That was a hell of a meet and greet. Boom! Nice to meet your acquaintance, we’re the government. Fuck you and don’t forget to pay your taxes.
Shit hadn’t gone as she’d planned that day, but she’d mistakenly revealed an otherwise unknown location they’d been using to conduct business. Sadly, today was not the day they were using it. Marcus strutted his stuff up and down the block for a good half hour before I gave up on the place. A couple of cruisers tried to pick his drunk ass up, but Poe wasn’t there.
The next three locations were as much duds as the first. I’d flown us between each one, dropping Marcus off far enough away so as not to arouse the suspicion of the DSI lackeys who might be lurking about, but we’d still hadn’t hit on anything solid. Two locations after those were a bust, as well, and I was starting to get frustrated.
“You getting paid by the mile, motherfucker?” Marcus asked. He was too, apparently.
“Better than by the inch,” I answered, really, really, really tired of camping out with Mr. Personality. “Just a few more locations to go.” He shook his head without saying a word, for which I was glad. His voice was grating on my nerves big time.
At another location, this one smack dab in the center of downtown, the evening traffic still chugging its way through the streets damn near bumper to bumper, I dropped him off behind the Chase Bank building and casually followed him part of the three blocks to the actual site of the DSI office. Of all the properties we’d been to, this one was the least likely. It was the agency’s public face for the department here locally, its name actually on the registry and posted in the lobby all official-like.
I held back, picking a distant corner where I could watch Marcus make his rounds without me being seen in return, but I was losing hope. Maybe I’d misjudged Poe’s character. And since my power was locked down, which only served to annoy me more, I couldn’t reach out and see if he or any other supernaturals were around, which would have made it so much easier. But if I could feel them, they could feel me so it was best not to play that game. Hard to plan a surprise party when they know
it’s coming. The fact that their entire organization, and probably every reporter in the country, was looking for me already wasn’t making shit any easier. I pulled my hoodie up tighter around my face, a common style trend here in the southwest even with the damn 100-degree heat, and slumped on the sidewalk like I lived there. If Trinity kept torching my shit, I just might have to.
Marcus loped around a short distance away, looking like he was lost but it wasn’t as if anyone would approach the guy to direct him. While he’d lost a ton of weight, he still cut an imposing figure. The perpetual frown on his face probably helped keep his interactions to a minimum, not to mention the way he smelled; like booze and camel ass all rolled into an old sock.
After about twenty minutes of him stumbling back and forth down the sidewalk, I started to lose interest in his desperate dance. We’d been doing it too damn long already, and I was exhausted. I stared blankly as the traffic crept by and found myself people watching. There is nothing more entertaining than viewing the happenings inside of people’s vehicles. It’s like they lose sight of the outside world and do shit no one above the age of five would normally do in public.
Between the nose pickings and texture tastings and ear wax examinations and all the porn playing across portable DVD players, I’d damn near forgotten about Marcus. I pulled my eyes from a fat guy who’d shown his mettle by deep-throating half of a foot long hot dog only to see Marcus disappear around the corner a block down.
I jumped up and bolted around the back of the building, bitching at myself for having lost track of him. My pulse raced. No clue if he just got tired and bailed on me or if someone had lured him in, I needed to get to him. For all the traffic still clogging the roads, the sidewalks were mostly clear. A guy in a rumpled suit raised an eyebrow at me as I ran past, but he couldn’t be bothered to pull his focus from the smartphone in his hands. The only person who really paid any attention was a homeless woman who held her hand out as I flew past. She muttered something I didn’t think was entirely polite, but there wasn’t time to debate her.
