The House Lost at Sea

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The House Lost at Sea Page 27

by R. J. Blain


  “To begin with, yes.”

  Hot damn. How had I been working in Oakland for so long without running into the spitfire detective? Now that he was on my radar, I’d enjoy creating excuses to tweak his nose and toy with him.

  Nothing spiced up a boring work day more than playing with the local police, especially when the detective was easy on the eyes and had enough spine to invade my office.

  I’d have to make certain my father didn’t find out I was toying with one of the local cops, or he’d find some way to ruin my fun.

  He had a bad habit of ruining my fun whenever I found one of the local cops entertaining. His status as the area’s police commissioner, formerly a police chief, had something to do with that.

  I needed to remind my old man he wasn’t a uniformed officer anymore.

  Knocking Detective Davis down a few pegs would buy me the time I needed to deal with my missing quad. I’d even apologize to him for being curt later. “Next time, perhaps base your investigations on something a little more solid than my race and magic rating. You’ll waste a lot less time that way.” I smiled at him. “And as for that blind date, sorry. I’ll try not to skip out next time. Give me a call if you think I’ll be late.”

  Detective Davis’s cheek twitched. “You’re one of those FBI agents who live to toy with the local police, aren’t you?”

  “It would be a shame to let such a nice opportunity go to waste, Detective. Can I call you Raymond? I guess it’s too early to start calling you Ray, especially after missing our date. Call me sometime.” I grabbed my phone from its cradle and dialed the security desk. “Detective Davis from the Oakland Police requires footage from the fifth floor common areas from last night. Make certain he fills out all the appropriate forms.”

  The guard chuckled. “Understood, Miss Abrams.”

  I hung up and held out my hand. “It’s been a pleasure, Detective Davis. Oh, just so you know. My name is Olivia Abrams to you American types.”

  If my mother heard the scorn in my voice, she’d be proud of me for putting an American man back in his place and giving him a taste of the prejudices we faced daily. To his credit he took my hand and maintained his base courtesy.

  He squeezed, a gentle enough challenge. “Next time, I recommend against dodging your dates, Miss Abrams. You might break a man’s heart.”

  Despite myself, I laughed. “Do you detective types even have hearts?”

  He lifted a finger to his lips. “That’s a secret.”

  With an entire quad missing, there was no way I was going to stay in my office and wait for news. Grumbling curses over my own damned rules, which I’d implemented when I’d discovered exhaustion had become a leading cause of death among supernatural law enforcement members, I couldn’t drive myself to join Luke’s team. Anyone who’d been on shift for longer than twelve hours lost their driving rights, and I’d even convinced the FBI to add an entire department of non-drafted employees, often former quad members, who had the sole job of driving quads around and serving as backup.

  I hated when I needed to call my boss to get a driver, but as I was the damned supervisor, I needed to play by my rules.

  “What’s on the wire, Olivia?” my boss answered.

  “I’ve got a missing quad and need a driver, sir.”

  As always whenever I called him asking for a ride, my boss sighed. “When was the last time you got any sleep? I’m going to be nice and let you count those five minute power naps you like to take as sleep. Maybe that way you won’t give me extra gray hairs today.”

  Damn it, damn it, damn it. “Saturday, sir.”

  His sigh promised I’d given him several more gray hairs, an accomplishment when he’d gone full silver before he’d turned fifty. “While being a water elementalist is convenient, even you need sleep.”

  With my wretched luck, he’d bar me from coming to work for a day or two, and I’d return to a complete and utter disaster. “I know. I was going to go home, but my quad disappeared.”

  “Rating on your quad?”

  “Soft hitters, sir. They’re investigators, and they always need to call in backup for the challenging stuff. They do good work as a general rule, but they’re drafters near the end of the line. I might be able to keep them with the right raise, though. They’re out in four months.”

  “And as only an idiot abandoned ship four months before being free and clear of their draft, something happened. Team makeup?”

  “A memento mori photographer, a medium, a minor air elementalist, and a thought sucker.”

  “Why can’t you call them empaths or drainers like everyone else, Olivia?”

  “That’d be too nice. They might get worried if I’m too nice to them.”

  My boss chuckled, and I relaxed at his good humor. “That would be a tragedy.”

  “Exactly. They might get even more uppity than they usually do if they think I’m nice. Can I get a lift?”

  “As you’ll call a cab and be a pest otherwise, yes. I’ll recruit Eddy. Expect her within ten. If you’re tired, you’ll need the backup if you run into any tough spots. Don’t take any chances, and I will be ordering Eddy to make sure you get home and stay home after your quad has been located. Where are you headed?”

  “I’ll track Luke’s quad and follow them. I told them they were to enable the trackers on their phones for this. Same with their backups if they call some in.”

  “Keep me in the loop,” he ordered before hanging up.

  I grabbed my purse, which contained my gun, wallet, and badge, and headed downstairs to discover Detective Davis at the security desk hard at work filling out forms. “You haven’t given up yet, Raymond?”

  He snorted. “Hardly, Miss Abrams. You should see the violence report forms. They’re worse.”

  When I got back into the office, I needed to suggest we add a few extra forms to annoy the local cops when they wanted our security footage.

  The security guards grinned at me, and I was so tired I couldn’t remember their names. Both were young, and whoever hired them must have taken their appearances into consideration, because they were fit for a magazine rather than the ground floor of an FBI resident agency.

  “Why would you steal a fish?” one of the guards asked.

  When I asked about adding forms for the local police to fill out, I needed to ask that our guards wear name tags. “Paperweight?’

  “Your desk is too tidy for one, ma’am.”

  “Unexpected weapon?”

  “You’re more of the Ming vase type,” he countered.

  Whoever he was, I obviously liked him enough he wasn’t frightened of incurring my wrath like half the security people. “Really?” I hummed. “Maybe. Have fun with those papers, Raymond.”

  Before the detective had a chance to add any commentary, I escaped the building. An FBI-marked SUV pulled up to the curb and turned on its hazards. Taking the hint my ride had arrived, I slid into the back.

  Eddy didn’t need me clutching the dashboard whenever I thought she’d hit something, which was whenever she got behind the wheel of a vehicle. It still amazed me she’d never been in a single accident.

  “You look like shit,” my boss’s sister announced.

  “You look like you need a bath.”

  “Not in an official car unless necessary. Please. If you really think I need a bath, you can take your temper out on me when I get you home. Wouldn’t be the first time. A little water isn’t going to hurt me.”

  Little hurt a woman who could shapeshift into a dragon. I chuckled and checked my phone, selecting Luke as my tracking target. “It looks like we’re going to Oakland City Center, Eddy.”

  “Buckle up then, missy,” Eddy replied. “You got lucky today; I was just down the street. What’s going on?”

  “Adrianna’s squad didn’t check in, and they’re not answering their phones.”

  “That’s not like her. Sure, she’ll skip the last hour of her shift if she’s not rostered to go to the spa with her quad, but
she always checks in.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Dumbass said you’re running on empty, and you look like it. When was the last time you had something to eat? He screamed something about you not having slept since Saturday.”

  “Calling your boss a dumbass isn’t all that professional, Eddy.”

  Dragons cared little about professionalism, but if I did get into trouble, I had a dragon. Some sacrifices were worth making.

  “He deserves it for not getting off his lazy ass and coming with us. Two dragons are better than one dragon. Stay out of trouble while we look for your quad, and I’ll take you out for a bite before dropping you off at home. I could use a nibble, too.”

  In Eddy language, a nibble meant she’d be eating enough for five to help fuel her magic. I’d ignore the implication she’d shifted recently and be grateful I wouldn’t have to fend for myself. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “I try. What’s the deal with the ping on your record? The cops are sniffing at you like you’re a powdered donut no one has claimed.”

  Damn it. I bet Eddy had been on her way to the office on my boss’s order because of the record ping. “Detective Hunk barged into my office demanding to know where I was last night. I asked if I’d missed a blind date again.”

  “Olivia, you didn’t.”

  “I did, then I introduced myself with my Chinese name to make him uncomfortable. Turns out he’d done a check into Chinese people with a high magic rating. What would I do with a fish paperweight?”

  “Hell if I know. You’re not the paperweight kind. Who are we meeting at the mall?”

  “Luke and his quad. I also told him to call in backup if he felt it was needed, and they’re all to be tracked.”

  “This is going to be fun. Not.” Eddy drummed her hands against the steering wheel before sighing and easing into traffic. “You armed?”

  I eyed my purse, which did have my gun. “It’s in my purse. I’m too tired to carry, so you can carry it for me when we get to the mall.”

  “Stick with me, then. My brother will kill me if I let you get hurt in the field. I’m fresh and fully loaded.”

  I disliked having a bodyguard, but until I got some sleep, a kid with a popsicle stick could take me out. “Roger.”

  “Wow. You really are tired. I wouldn’t worry too much. Those dimwits probably went to have their nails done and got drunk on mimosas and forgot to call in. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  If Oakland’s residents learned the FBI’s supernatural enforcers and investigators were all cracked pots with alcoholic tendencies, our department would be screwed. The rare non-drinkers with better-than-normal stability levels would have to do the job of four, and it just wouldn’t work.

  “I can’t stop them from drinking once they’re off duty, Eddy. I can’t even stop them from skipping off an hour early as long as they’re ready to roll if I call them in. Damn it, most of them were drafted. It’s a miracle they show up for work at all.”

  “Two years in a quad or ten years behind bars. Plus good pay. It’s not all bad. You have five career quads. In our business? That’s legendary.”

  I grunted. “I do remind them the salary and benefits are hard to beat.”

  “Sure, the benefits are just great—as long as you don’t mind psychotic survivors trying to kill you with powers they can’t control because they’re too stupid or stubborn to get help. There’s no excuse for that.”

  “Draft dodgers aren’t necessarily bad people or psychotic. Some just want to be human again. It’s not their fault they were in a bomb’s radius.”

  It had taken me years to get to that point of acceptance.

  “Stop being so nice, Olivia. It’s creepy.”

  Despite everything, I laughed. “I already met my quota of evil today. Just ask Detective Hunk.”

  “You better watch yourself, woman. I just might.”

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