by TR Cameron
The other man didn’t respond to his taunt. “Second, you’ll collect information on your city’s council of idiots—where they live, where they work, and who they love. Your connection to the dwarf should make that easy for you.”
The hell I will. He shook his head. “That’s asking too much.”
“Like most things in this partnership we have going on here, such decisions aren’t your call. You’ll do it or you’ll face the consequences of not doing it. And we haven’t reached the best part yet.”
He could see in the way the woman tensed that the moment Nylotte had warned him about wasn’t far away. The Drow had said that the caster would probably try to use the spell while he was in front of them to ensure it was still working. They’d determined together that it would likely be some form of discomfort and that the only way to deal with it was to fake it when it happened. The back of his mind began to chart angles and distances for the battle that would follow if he failed.
The man grinned broadly and seemed almost gleeful. “Finally, you’ll go down off the bat when the Leblanc girl calls upon you to fight our house. Our relatives will know not to kill you, and you’ll simply let them hit you and take you out of the combat.”
Tanyith laughed. He couldn’t help it. As he started to reply, he felt the surge from the woman. Stiffening, he twisted like his back—which had been the most frequent source of pain while he was under the influence of her magic—had cramped. He mimed holding in a shout before he slowly returned to normal. When he thought enough time had passed to sell the act, he said, “How do I know your people will keep your word?”
“You don’t.” The man shrugged. “But why would we throw such a useful tool away? You’ve given us everything we’ve wanted from you so far and that’s led to some very interesting discoveries about chemicals that affect magicals. We can put that into use in oh so many ways. So, no, we don’t intend to lose your services yet.”
Deliberately, he scowled, although the sentiment behind the pretense was real enough that he could react the way they most likely expected him to. “When I get out from under this, you’re dead.”
His contact laughed. “The only way you’ll get out from under anything is if you’re dead. I’m not worried. But by all means, fight and see what it gets you. Hell, to be honest, I kind of want you to.”
He pushed to his feet and threw his chair aside to clatter on the floor. Neither of his blackmailers rose to the provocation, and he stalked through the door and slammed it shut behind him. People in the restaurant area turned to stare at him, but he ignored them and hurried out of the bar. The fresh air helped to calm him, as only part of his actions and reactions had been false.
I can’t wait until I can beat the arrogance off their faces.
He had cooled off completely by the time he reached the Leblanc grounds and Invel opened the front door to let him in. “Caliste is sleeping,” the Drow explained, “and Emalia and Scoppic are translating. That left Jenkins and I, and he’s not the best at physical tasks, from what I understand.”
The disembodied caretaker of the house replied calmly, “Indeed so. Fortunately, there are so many around to help now.” He sounded pleased and Tanyith imagined that if he’d been stuck alone in an abandoned home for as long as the retainer had, he would feel the same way.
Invel gestured toward the kitchen. “There’s coffee if you like or hot water for tea. Plus various snacks. We’ll have an afternoon break in an hour or so if you’ll join us.” He nodded and followed him into the kitchen. They chatted amiably and were eventually joined by Emalia, who bustled around organizing sandwiches and snack cakes while the Dark Elf made several pots of tea.
By the time it was all ready, Scoppic, Cali, and Fyre had also arrived. She looked a little worn but had an air of resolve about her that hadn’t been there when they’d last been together. “What’s going on?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Emalia, Scoppic, and Invel found the next shard.”
“And?”
“It’ll be a little hard to get.” The others laughed with varying degrees of disbelief. “Okay, it’ll be very hard to get.”
Tanyith grinned. “Being your friend is never boring.”
“Just wait.” She shook her head. “You don’t know the half of it. But at least it comes with fringe benefits like the constant risk of death.”
He nodded. “Well, who could ask for anything more?”
Chapter Eleven
Cali had sent Tanyith to the tavern and he had portaled from there to his apartment to get ready. He and Kendra had been unable to find much time to spend together of late since the situation with the Atlanteans and the Zatoras had landed squarely in the lap of her inter-agency task force.
But tonight, they’d both agreed to set aside whatever they had going on to go out on a date. He had made a reservation at one of New Orleans’ trendiest restaurants and had plans to see a blues band at a dive bar thereafter. In his opinion, fancy meals and local bands were the best things the city had to offer.
On the side of the Quarter that was closest to the Drunken Dragons, Effervescence was small, beautiful, and difficult to get into. He’d had to put down a hefty deposit simply to reserve two seats at the bar as their tables were booked months in advance. They’d be expected to have drinks, the obligatory bottle of champagne, and a tasting menu chosen by the chef.
It was one of his favorite ways to spend an evening. They would face no decisions other than what to drink and he had the opportunity to focus all his attention on his companion. He finished dressing, put cufflinks in his shirt, and pulled his suit jacket on before he portaled to an alley near the restaurant.
After the short walk to his destination, he realized he’d arrived before Kendra and stood outside the clean white building with its black shutters and ornate ebony doors to wait. He watched the passersby warily, alert for trouble, but the people on the street were merely normal folks living normal lives as far as he could tell.
Tanyith couldn’t remember having lived a normal life. The events since his imprisonment had banished all of that from his memory and he didn’t see any likely change in that situation anytime soon. He was determined to enjoy each moment for what it was, to flow like a river from one set of rapids to the next, and to seek calm when not among the rocks.
The sight of his date made him smile. Kendra Barton wore a dress, which was as unusual as anything else in his life. It was black and thin straps over her shoulders supported a form-fitting sheath that ended above her knees. She carried a clutch purse that he was sure would be adequate to hold a pistol and probably a set of handcuffs. Her hair held more of a wave than usual, and her makeup was more pronounced. He strode forward to intercept her and kissed her cheek in greeting. “Hello, gorgeous.”
She stepped back and made a show of studying him carefully. “Hello yourself. Not bad, Shale. If you don’t ruin things with your mouth, I might invite you home later.”
“It’s always my mouth that betrays me,” he said with a laugh.
“That’s the case with most criminals.”
“We’re back to that, are we?” He raised an eyebrow.
The detective broke into a grin. “Nah, I’m only screwing with you. So, this is the place, huh?”
He nodded, opened the door for her, and gazed appreciatively at the view as she preceded him into the restaurant. “We’re at the bar,” he said, and she moved to the nearest seats with reserved placards on them. He slid onto the chair next to hers, and the bartender appeared a moment later.
She was a thin woman, blonde and probably in her mid-forties, wearing an immaculate black dress that covered her from neck to wrists and disappeared behind the bar. Her metal bangle bracelets chimed against one another as she smiled and asked, “What can I get you two?” She slid wooden coasters in front of them.
Kendra said, “Manhattan,” and Tanyith held up two fingers. The bartender bustled away and he grinned at his date.
“So. How ya been?”
/> “Fine, except for the storm of garbage that came from what went down at the Zatora place.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I can see how that would be a challenge for y’all. Did you find out anything interesting?”
She accepted her drink from the bartender’s hands and took a sip before she set it down carefully and looked at him with what he thought of as her cop eyes—sharp, inquisitive, and suspicious. “Signs of a fight that included magic. You wouldn’t know about that, would you?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” He shrugged. “It’ll cost you to find out.” One of the difficult parts of their relationship was that they often had to keep secrets from each other for personal or professional reasons. The only thing they could agree to commit to as an absolute was sharing if safety was an issue. As the action at the mansion didn’t qualify as that, he wouldn’t betray Cali’s confidence without a significant quid pro quo.
She laughed, unoffended. “Nah, it’s not worth the price right now, whatever it is. I don’t have anything to offer.”
His entendre-laden reply was forestalled by the arrival of their first dish. Oysters, of course, one of the key gastronomic elements of New Orleans Cuisine. These had been grilled and were dotted with brown gravy. He used the tiny fork provided to spear one from its shell and eat it. He wouldn’t have expected a chipotle sauce with the seafood but it worked well. Kendra lifted the shell to her mouth and ate the meat that way, and he momentarily lost his train of thought. She noticed and laughed at him again.
“Ah, Shale, you’re so easy sometimes.” She offered him the third but he declined, and she snagged that one with the fork. “Delicious. So, what’s going on that you are willing to talk about, then?”
“Oh, the usual. Upcoming battles, the threat of you and Sienna getting killed, and damn Aiden Walsh is out there somewhere causing trouble.” He’d shared the knowledge that Walsh was part of the Zatoras but nothing else from the battle.
“Convince those blackmailing bastards to visit the city. I’ll lock ʼem up.”
He chuckled. “Did you get an AET team while I wasn’t looking?” The anti-magic version of SWAT wasn’t a resource available to the NOPD as far as he knew.
She shook her head. “No such luck. But I’m confident we can take them.” She lowered her voice. “We found a cache of anti-magic bullets in the mansion. Each member of the task force has a magazine full. It’s not nearly enough but it’s a step in the right direction, for sure.”
The next course arrived, some kind of dumpling with a soy sauce and he bit into it carefully to discover that it was filled with sausage—hot, spicy, and delicious. He yanked the napkin from his lap to his mouth to avoid dribbling juice onto his suit. Kendra managed her portion with far more elegance.
Suddenly, an internal pressure he hadn’t noticed suddenly gained impetus and he had to speak. “Hey. Can I be serious with you for a minute?”
She dabbed her red-painted lips and nodded. “Sure. Shoot.”
“I need more.”
His companion chuckled, low and sultry. “Is that an invitation? Or are you referring to the food?”
He shook his head and tried to calm the hammering of his heart. “No. I mean that I want to…uh, move our relationship forward, I suppose.”
She laughed again, this time a little more playfully. “Are you asking me to go steady?”
That inspired a reciprocal laugh from him. “Yeah. I guess I kind of am. Or we could always do the grown-up version and move in together.”
Her expression morphed slowly into something entirely more serious. “You’re not joking, right?”
“No. Not even slightly.”
“You actually want to live with me.”
Tanyith nodded. “Look, I don’t know what the future holds but spending what few uncommitted minutes we have apart from one another doesn’t make sense to me. On my part, at least.” He didn’t add the words but his mind supplied them. Unless you don’t feel the same way, that is, in which case, I’ll find a hole to hide in for a decade or so.
Her reply was delayed by the arrival of the next course. She filled her mouth with the miniature quiche and chewed slowly while he did the same and wondered how long she’d make him wait for her answer. Finally, she finished the mouthful, drained her drink, and turned to him with a smile on her face. “Okay.”
Relief coursed through him. “Really?”
“Really really. However, we’ll need to set some ground rules.”
“That seems fair. You go first.”
“No criminal activity of any kind in my apartment. No contraband, no illegal weapons, and nothing that could cause me to lose my job.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it’ll be your apartment, will it?”
Kendra laughed. “We both know your apartment is a hole compared to mine.”
“Okay. Fair enough. Now I have one. No peeking at one another’s phones.”
She imitated his eyebrow-raise. “Already planning to step out on me, are you?”
He shook his head. “No. But we both need to protect confidential information and I can’t see any other way to ensure that.”
“Agreed.”
The bartender interrupted to uncork a bottle of pink champagne and pour them each a glass, which signaled that the more substantial courses of their meal would soon arrive. Kendra added, “No extra expectations. We live together but we still do our own things. When we’re in the same place at the same time, it’s all good, but no demands. I can’t deal with that right now.”
Tanyith lifted his glass in a toast. “Me neither. So, to togetherness.”
She tapped hers against his with a small clink. “Togetherness.”
They spent the rest of the meal in happy conversation and added one or two details to the arrangement as they occurred to them. When it was over, they strolled down the street to where the car she had called would pick them up. Even at night and even this far on the fringes of the Quarter, a fair number of folks wandered around. He nodded at a man who strolled past them. “Do you think they know what’s going on? Do they realize there’s a gang war happening right under their noses?”
The detective shook her head. “I doubt it. And that’s probably for the best. Most people can’t face that kind of stress day in and day out and they shouldn’t have to. That’s where those like us come in.”
He laughed. “Idiots, you mean.”
“You said it, not me. But what I meant was the fighters. Most people are maxed-out fighting their own battles. Some of us can give more, though, and we’re called to do it. It’s in our nature.”
“That’s an awful nice dress for a fighter, by the way.” He grinned.
She responded with a smirk. “You should see what’s under it.”
“I’d like that. I’d like that very much.”
A Honda Accord pulled up, the one the ride app on her phone had promised. “Well then, get in and do something about that at our apartment.”
Chapter Twelve
The day had arrived. Rion Grisham hadn’t slept at all the night before and spent it instead in the company of a bottle of Jack Daniels and his memories—not only of Colin Todd, although those were not far from his mind, but of the path that had brought him to this place. From the early days as a leg-breaker for organized crime in the north to his current position, it had been a fairly straight diagonal and he’d always traveled upward toward more wealth and power.
Lately, though, that arrow had become a flat line because of the actions of the magicals in his city. He didn’t consider himself a xenophobe and would happily work with or take from any race, color, creed, or species if it moved him closer to the things he wanted. The Atlantean gang was another matter entirely, however. It had been foolish to think that keeping them around would spread the heat from the authorities enough to make that strategy worthwhile. It wasn’t often he did something so ultimately wrong-headed, and he couldn’t imagine why he’d done it on this occasion. But after they’d seen his former lieutenant off with t
he proper pomp and circumstance, it would be time to set that error to rights.
With a groan, he levered himself up from the table, ran a hand through his rumpled hair, and padded toward the shower to scald the sleep away. Only a half-hour remained before the start of the day’s events and he owed it to Colin to be at his best.
When Strang and Ozahl arrived, he was suitably prepared to face the day. He’d shaved, tamed the tangle atop his head, and dressed all in black—shoes, suit, shirt, and tie. The clothes were cut to obscure the presence of the guns under each armpit and the one at his lower back. Each was filled with anti-magic rounds, and he carried a spare mag for all three in his pockets. When the enemy came—and he had no doubt they would—he’d be ready.
The point of this meeting was to make sure the rest of his people would be ready as well. He gestured at the table and his lieutenants took their places while he rang the bottom floor to demand coffee and breakfast. Assured that it was on its way, he sat and looked at his two companions. “So. Today’s the day.”
Strang nodded. “It’s gonna be a perfect one with a good temperature, and it’s sunny. We’ll have the right kind of sendoff.”
The mage showed signs of agitation, shifted in his seat, and drummed his fingers. That’s not much of a surprise. When things get tough, you start to fray around the edges. Some fierce magical you are. Grisham stared at him and asked, “Is there a problem?”
In response, the man sighed and straightened. “You know this is a bad idea. Why are you going through with it? The dead don’t care. They’re already gone.”
He shook his head. “We’ve been through this. It’s not about Colin. It’s about the rest of my people. We have to show them we’re not afraid.”
The magical looked as average as he always did, with mousy-brown unstyled hair, khakis, and a button-down shirt. No one would ever imagine that he could be a threat, which was probably exactly what he wanted. Ozahl leaned forward and spoke in a low, sharp tone. “But we should be afraid. This is a security nightmare. Hell, for all we know, the entire church is already wired to explode.”
