Dark Dancer (Rosie O'Grady's Paranormal Bar and Grill Book 3)

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Dark Dancer (Rosie O'Grady's Paranormal Bar and Grill Book 3) Page 14

by BR Kingsolver


  So fast that she was a blur, Shawna stepped past me, grabbed the Hunter by the throat, and ripped out his windpipe. He staggered backward, horror in his eyes, vainly attempting to staunch the blood pouring from his throat. He fell, convulsed, and lay still.

  “Is that the same guy we saw at Willard’s Green?” I asked her as she licked the blood off her fingers. I knew her eyes were much better than mine, especially at night.

  “Nope, different asshole.” She craned her neck and looked around. “How much do you want to bet this is the guy who fried all those shifter kids?”

  “You know he’s a mage, right?”

  Shawna looked at her bloody hand, then at the Hunter. “Oh, yeah, shouldn’t do that.” She knelt down to wipe her hand on his cloak.

  I pulled out my phone and called Cindy, who was just getting home and hoping to go to bed. She told me to stay where I was, which I expected.

  A couple of trucks from the fire department roared up to the building about five minutes after the Hunter bit the dust, and Detective Sergeant Dan Bailey showed up about ten minutes later. The only people still on the scene were Shawna and I, the bar’s owner, and the bartender.

  Bailey looked Shawna and me up and down two or three times. “What’s the occasion? I didn’t know the Academy Awards were tonight.”

  “We went to the opera, Sergeant,” I said.

  He rolled his eyes. “And then afterward decided to have a drink at an unregistered vampire after-hours bar?”

  I grinned. “Since Shawna’s an unregistered vampire, it just seemed natural.”

  Shawna grinned at him, showing her fangs, and he turned away, shaking his head.

  He spoke with the owner and the bartender, and I heard the owner say, “Of course we called the police. I need your report for my insurance company.”

  “I’m constantly amazed at the purposeful blindness of humans to the Otherworld,” I said to Shawna.

  “Don’t be. They’re afraid enough of things that go bump in the night. Their only reassurance is the knowledge that we don’t really exist. They don’t want there to be beings who prey on them or are far more powerful than them. And I’m not the worst of it. Can you imagine if they knew about the Unseelie Fae wandering around?”

  I thought about Lizzy telling me that a couple of vamps attacked glamoured Fae, and then the cops telling me about some vamps they had found who were “shredded.”

  After speaking with the forensics guys inspecting the Hunter’s body, Bailey came back to Shawna and me.

  “So, which one of you killed him?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “We sort of tag-teamed him. He tried to decapitate me, and I took offense.”

  “You both tore out his throat?”

  “Well, no. I stabbed him, and then Shawna made sure he didn’t recover, but he might have already been dead. You see what I mean?”

  He looked around. “And what did you stab him with? I didn’t see any blood on that sword. That was his sword, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s his sword. I stabbed him with magic. Sorry I can’t give it to you for evidence.” The last thing I wanted to do was have my only weapon confiscated. Shawna had it hidden underneath her coat.

  Bailey looked back at the body, then walked over and squatted down next to it.

  “Where did you stab him?” he called.

  “Up under the ribcage. He’s taller than I am.”

  “There’s no blood or evidence of that. There’s only a small tear in his shirt.”

  I wandered over and looked down. “Wow. That’s odd. The blade must have cauterized the wound. I think the autopsy will find that his heart and other things are kinda messed up.”

  “Kinda messed up?”

  “Yeah. That’s a technical medical term for what happens when a magical sword gets shoved into your chest.” Bailey was a mage, so I didn’t understand why he was being so dense. “So, I think he was probably dead before Shawna touched him.”

  He stood up. “You know, Blair warned me that talking to you wouldn’t do my ulcer any good. Why are you trying to protect the vamp?”

  “Stop by Rosie’s. We have a potion that will help your ulcer. I can even give you the address of a shop where you can buy it in bulk. As to why I’m telling you the truth, Lieutenant Blair said the police could put me in jail if I lie to you.” I stepped closer to him and purred in my most seductive voice. “I always try to cooperate with the police.”

  Bailey’s eyes widened, and he took a step back.

  I motioned to the Hunter’s sword. “You should be happy, Sergeant. As far as I know, that’s the first intact sword you’ve recovered. Be careful, it’s sharp. And you can call me to apologize after the autopsy.”

  Bailey finally allowed us to leave, and I heaved a sigh of relief. For a while, I thought he was going to pull us into the police station for questioning. Blair had done that to me before we got to know each other, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience.

  I stopped by the hospital to see Blair the morning after the opera. I understood he would get lonely being stuck in there and unable to move, but as I stopped by a store to get some chocolate, I wondered if he was really serious about that part. How much chocolate can one person eat?

  My question was answered as I saw three candy boxes and two crumpled-up empty bags of chocolate in the rubbish bin in his room.

  “Don’t they ever empty that?” I asked.

  “Regularly. Why?” Blair answered.

  “Well, here’s your resupply,” I said, and handed him the box. “The opera was awesome!”

  He had me sit down and tell him all about it. He wanted to know about the set, the staging, and my opinion of the lead singers. He had seen a different production of Porgy and Bess and asked me about details I hadn’t even noticed.

  “Nice dresses,” he said when I finished. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Have you talked to Dan Bailey this morning?” I asked in return.

  Blair chuckled, then said, “Do Hunters normally carry pistols?”

  “Some of them do. The guy we dealt with a couple of months ago didn’t. Did you find one in the house where we rescued Sheila and Charity?”

  “No, but the perp you killed last night had a Glock on him. Same bullets as fired at me but from a different gun.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever weapon it takes to get the job done. The guy last night evidently thought that Molotov cocktails were appropriate. Did Baily get the autopsy results?”

  “Yeah. He said something about owing you an apology.”

  I spent almost an hour with Blair, talking mostly about what had been going on with the Hunters in Westport. When I left his room, I walked down the hall, waving to the nurse on duty sitting at her station. I punched the down button on the elevator and waited while it made its way up seven floors.

  The elevator door opened, and a man in surgical scrubs got out. As he passed me, I caught a whiff of magic about him. He was wearing a surgical mask, and something about that bothered me. I got on the elevator and turned to watch him walking down the hallway.

  It was a hospital. Lots of people were running around wearing scrubs, but I hadn’t noticed anyone else in the halls wearing a mask. There was also something about the guy’s walk. Smooth and graceful. Almost like he glided rather than walked.

  He was looking at room numbers on the doors as he went. I thought that was odd. Wouldn’t someone who worked there know the layout already?

  The cop stationed outside Blair’s door didn’t turn to look at the man in scrubs. The cop didn’t move at all, almost like he was frozen in place. The elevator door started to close, but I stuck out my arm and stopped it. The man in scrubs stopped next to the cop and pushed on Blair’s door. I took off running.

  By the time I got to Blair’s room, the cop still hadn’t moved. I hit the door with both hands, slamming it open.

  The scene inside seemed to be happening in slow motion. The man in the scrubs stood about four feet from the bed, raising his r
ight hand. Blair was reaching for the nurse’s call button.

  I plowed into the guy from behind, our shields merging. The gun fired.

  I slapped the edge of my hand down on the guy’s wrist, and he dropped the pistol. We landed on the floor with me on top. He was twice my size, but I fed ley energy into my arms and legs for more strength. He squirmed and rolled, tossing me aside, but was unable to shake my grasp. With one hand I held his wrist while the fingers of my other hand entwined in his hair below the surgical cap.

  He wasn’t a ley line mage and was unable to maintain his shield as mine absorbed it. I rolled, pulling him with me, and slammed him into the wall. It didn’t stun him enough, and he punched me with his free hand. My shield absorbed most of the force, but the blow still snapped my head back, and I let go of his hair.

  His free hand pulled a Hunter’s main gauche from his pants. I let go of his other hand and kicked out, trying to push myself away from him. He raised the knife, and I hit him with a burst of ley energy, driving him back against the wall as I rolled out of his reach.

  The surgical mask had come off and hung from one of his ears, giving me a clear view of his face. He leaped to his feet, throwing the knife at me in the same motion. I dodged but felt a burning pain in my right thigh. Ignoring it, I scrambled to my feet.

  Before I could stop him, he leaped for the door, opened it, and stumbled out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him. I followed, but by the time I got out into the hall, I saw him go through a door to the stairs twenty feet away. Pain shot from my wounded thigh with every step, and when I looked down, I saw a long slash pouring blood. No way was I going to catch him. I pulled on the ley line and put pressure on the wound. It stopped bleeding, but it didn’t hurt any less.

  I turned toward the nurse’s station and shouted, “Call security. Call the police. That man just tried to kill Lieutenant Blair.”

  The cop in the chair lurched to his feet, hand going to his gun. The spell that had frozen him in place was broken, but it was too late.

  Limping back into Blair’s room to check on him, I saw the trail of blood I’d left. Blair didn’t look any different, but I did notice his call light was lit.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “Yeah. Are you okay?”

  “The bullet went into the ceiling,” he said. “Did you get him?”

  I shook my head. “Maybe security can cut him off, but I doubt it. If anyone can trail him, we may have a chance of cornering him. It’s going to take some magic users to take him down, though.”

  “I saw his face,” Blair said.

  “Yeah. Gavin Edmundson.”

  And that was a problem. The Hunters, and particularly Fritz ‘The Bear’ Schottner, were now aware of me. Whether they knew who I was, that I had been a member of their Guild, didn’t really matter. I had thwarted an assassination, and that probably made me a target.

  The cut on the outside of my right thigh was about an inch deep and four inches long. The doctor sutured the muscle and then used sixteen stitches to close the wound. He told me to come back in two or three days so he could check it, gave me a prescription for antibiotics and pain pills, and said to stay off it as much as possible for a couple of weeks. I didn’t bother to tell him I was a bartender. Not working for two weeks would bankrupt me.

  As I suspected, Edmundson gave everyone the slip. I figured he had a getaway car, and probably a driver, waiting for him outside the hospital.

  Frankie gave me a ride to Rosie’s so I could tell Sam I couldn’t work that evening. I could have called him, but then I would be stuck at home with hardly any food in the house. Sam fixed me up with food for a couple of days and some potions to take with me, and then Frankie drove me home. She carried the food up to my apartment, for which I was grateful. The leg hurt like crazy by the time I finished climbing three flights of stairs.

  “I wonder how many Hunters we have in Westport,” Frankie said as she put the food in my refrigerator.

  “Too damned many,” I replied. “If they were rats, I’d call it an infestation.”

  She sighed. “This is beyond the capabilities of the Paranormal Crime Unit to contain.”

  I had thought that for months, but I didn’t tell her so.

  “How much money do you have?” I asked. “You need to start recruiting. Mages, witches, healers, a necromancer. If it was me, I’d make sure to hire some vampires and shifters as well. And then you need to train them. That human cop didn’t have a chance of stopping Edmundson. He’s lucky the bastard didn’t kill him.”

  Frankie nodded. “You’re right. I’m just not sure where to start.”

  “Start with the money to pay them, and expect that they’re going to want a lot more than a beat cop. Then talk to Sam, the alphas of the werewolf packs, and the leaders of the local covens.”

  “We’ve tried to hire people before.”

  “What was the first thing I said?”

  Most magic users could make pretty good money using their talents. They also understood how violent and dangerous the Otherworld could be. They weren’t going to take up police work for a minimal paycheck.

  Chapter 19

  Lizzy and Jolene showed up in the morning. Thankfully, they waited until after the crack of dawn, which I usually defined as ten o’clock. They brought food, a six-pack of beer, and more potions.

  “What’s wrong?” Jo asked when I opened the door and stood there staring at them. “Is the leg really hurting? I brought something for that.”

  It took me a moment to swallow the lump in my throat. “No, I’m fine. Come on in.”

  The problem was with my eyes. They kept blurring. I couldn’t believe how incredibly lucky I was to have friends. I had lived in comparative luxury with the Illuminati, but my life in Westport was so much richer.

  I had already eaten some yogurt and a piece of banana bread, but they had brought me a hot breakfast from Rosie’s, so I ate again. Jo insisted on examining my wound, then she cleaned it and added a magical cream to it before putting a fresh bandage on it. She gave me another jar of cream and told me it would keep the wound dry when I showered.

  While Jo was doing that, Lizzy wandered around and cleaned my apartment. Of course, she never picked up a mop or a broom. In the kitchen, she just waved her hand at the dishes, then put them away, then waved her hand again, and the whole room sparkled. Talk about useful magic.

  After they left, I called Blair.

  “I can’t make it down there for a couple of days,” I told him, “but I figured a couple of cripples can probably entertain each other for a while.”

  “Glad you called. Remember the conversation we had about Hunters and pistols? Ballistics says the Glock that Edmundson dropped yesterday was the one that landed me here. And by the way, thanks for saving my life again.”

  “You need to learn to dodge better,” I said. “Too bad he got away.”

  “Yeah, but we’re onto him now, and we have several pictures of his face from the hospital security cameras. Frankie and Mackle questioned Feldman at his lab yesterday, and Bailey served a search warrant on his house at the same time. Looks like someone is using the guest bedroom, but we didn’t find anything to tell us who.”

  “Can you hold Feldman on anything?” I asked.

  “Not yet, but Frankie delivered a message.”

  “Yeah. The Hunters have been delivering messages all over town. Jordan, I hope that your people are keeping Feldman under tight surveillance, or he won’t live out the week. The Hunters will see him as a weak link.”

  “Yeah, we’re watching him and James Winter, the other professor in Harland Hall, but I’ll pass along your warning. I haven’t considered that the Hunters might want to take out their sponsors to cover their tracks.”

  “Mercenaries aren’t very loyal, and they’re already spooked a bit. They obviously think that you’re a kink in their plans. Any bright ideas about how to protect you from another try?”

  “Frankie hired Josh Carpenter and a c
ouple of other mages on a temporary basis this morning to guard my room. I’ve also been moved, and my location is secret. So if you had come today, you wouldn’t have found me.”

  That was good. Since Edmundson had screwed up the assassination twice, I assumed the Hunters would send someone more competent the third time.

  After talking with Blair, I sat around and read all day, warmed up one of the dinners I’d brought home from Rosie’s, and took a shower. I finished my book around ten o’clock and got ready for bed, although I wasn’t particularly sleepy. Working at night meant I was more comfortable with vampire hours.

  I turned out the lights and was crawling into bed when I heard noises outside. Noises that I shouldn’t have been hearing in a third-floor apartment.

  Peeking out the window, I saw a Hunter clinging to the outside of my balcony. He was obviously trying to get in, but my ward included the balcony, and he couldn’t get over the railing. Grabbing my phone, I snuck into the living room.

  I inched the phone through the curtains and snapped a picture. The flash startled him, and he let go, dropping out of sight. I figured he hadn’t fallen all the way to the ground. He probably grabbed the balcony railing below. That would still give his shoulders a good jerk.

  I watched for a while, and about ten minutes later, I saw a dark shadow move on the ground below my apartment and disappear around the corner of the building.

  The photo I took showed the man’s face clearly, but I didn’t know him. It wasn’t Edmundson or Schottner, so we now knew what three of the Hunters looked like.

  The thought occurred to me that maybe I shouldn’t have discouraged David Cunningham from stalking me. He was a lot less dangerous and less intimidating than a Hunter, and having someone who didn’t want to kill me watch my place might help against those who did want to kill me.

  I called Shawna, got her voice mail, and asked her to call me back. I hadn’t gotten a clear look at the Hunter at Willard’s Green, but I didn’t think it was Edmundson. Maybe she would recognize my intruder.

 

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