Mismatched Pair

by J. L. Ray

  “Lookit, Dindle, I want things to work out between those two, but I know Tony. We are treading on shaky ground. We gotta be careful.”

  “No doubt, madam. With my employer as well.” Dindle paused then said, “I’ll suss out what I can about Mephistopheles’ connection to de Groot, and you see if you can put them in the same room long enough to have to talk to each other.”

  “Okay. That could work, especially if that room has other folks in it, like me and Cal. I’ll talk to Cal when he gets back.”

  She got her chance even sooner when Cal called her to come down to Bureau and pick up Newman so he could go on a short assignment—with Phil. She grinned when she ended the call. This could work, right?

  Tooley ran an eye over the second box, which was a little bigger than the first. He had more trouble getting it open, though that had less to do with the size and more to do with having Crystal impede his movement by trying to stroke his arms while he worked on removing the nails. The sensible, real part of him reached a level of annoyance that needed some outlet, and since the spelled part of him wouldn’t let him slap that crazy witch right off his arm, he expressed the annoyance in vehement presses on the crowbar. Unfortunately, those simply displayed the muscles he worked on to be a more versatile stage actor, making Crystal more excited.

  “Such lovely arms,” she murmured, stroking the triceps that stood out as he pushed down on the crowbar.

  Finally, the lid came off, and again he saw piles of packing straw.

  “Open it, open it!” She bounced, which did things to the front of the robe that compelled him through the spell to watch her, rather than what he was doing. He was grabbing up handfuls of straw, his eyes still glued to the gaping front of her robe, when she giggled and pointed at the box. He wanted to turn and look, but the spell held his eyes in place. She made a show of noticing, and then smiled a nasty smile and slowly pulled her robe shut. He knew that she had been aware of this all along and wondered why she played at the role of innocent tease. He shuddered as he was released from her hold and turned to look at his hands where they lay in the pile of straw.

  He couldn’t see his hands. He knew they were there. He could feel them, but he drew them back quickly when he realized that he couldn’t see them. As soon as he drew them out of the straw pile, they reappeared.

  “What is it?”

  “It is a very rare artifact! It is called The Cover of Darkness,” she told him. “It is a cloak that allows the wearer to use powerful spells that would normally attract the attention of the Super police or the Geas. The Cover of Darkness masks those spells as long as no one is aware it is being used. Once that awareness happens, it is nullified, so the user must be careful to keep The Cover of Darkness a secret.” She refrained from telling him that the spells it would cover didn’t include murder. He would find that out soon enough. She anticipated that having the cloak might make him bolder in following her instructions. She smiled at him. “It took decades to create this spell. You can replace that ridiculous billowing cloak with this.”

  Tooley looked down in the box. All he saw was straw. “Where is it?”

  Crystal suddenly looked less girlishly lusty and a hint of her actual age shone through in her impatience with him. “I chose you because I thought you were intelligent.” She leaned in to him, and the palpable menace in her face made him cringe. “I hope I have not chosen the wrong Being for this job.” Her meaning was quite clear. If he failed this particular job interview, he’d be dead.

  He shook his head and looked back in the crate. The straw was still all he saw, but having just pulled his hands out of the area, he put them back in and felt the lightest whisper of silk. He must have put his hands under it for them to have completely disappeared. He grasped it lightly and pulled it out of the crate, and instantly, the part of his body that it lay against disappeared from sight. The nebulous beginnings of an idea, a plan to escape, began to form in his head, and in fear that something of it might show in his face, he pushed those thoughts out of his head and turned back to her.

  “I am the right Being for the job, Lady,” he told her, inwardly wincing over the cringing tone in his voice. He was no coward. The need to please her was affecting him more and more. He only hoped it was temporary. To be permanently in lust with this dreadful creature would kill him.

  She smiled and pulled him to her for a long kiss. The Cover of Darkness draped across her, and he found the pull of her spell lessened. His spirits lifted at the idea that she might be providing him with a way to break her hold.

  She pulled back from his lips and breathed, “Later, pet. One more surprise for you.” She giggled, one hand over her mouth in a gesture far too young even for the age she presented. “I’ve saved the best for last!”

  Old Mother Hubbard sent Berthell on through to the detectives’ offices. She walked in and frowned at the scene in front of her. Tony and Baz were off to one side, with Tony practically draped over the big Changeling in an attempt to see his view screen, and the picture it made looked a little too cozy to Berthell. She had nothing against Changelings, but from what Cal had told her about Baz over breakfast, he sounded like damaged goods to her. Her friend Tony deserved better than a broken-hearted, vengeful, grumpy old Bear. Then she looked over at Phil, standing by Cal and her little Mannie. She’d looked up his profile on the staff page at Monster-Mate after the first time she saw him at the hospital with Tony. He might be a little old for their girl, but that demon had class. Phil and Cal were looking over a list that Phil was projecting while Cal copied it to his f-light. At that moment, Newman woke up and made some noise, and the two leaned over to see what he wanted. And just like that Berthell decided that come hells, high water, or Geas, she was gonna make sure that the path of true love for Tony and Phil ran a little smoother. That little demon had some serious spouse potential, even if he had been a bachelor for three thousand years.

  Cal picked Newman up and started bouncing him. Then he saw Berthell walking over. “Babe! You got here fast.”

  “I was awake and dressed. I had to go to school with Angel this morning.” She frowned. “There was some kind of award assembly that she didn’t tell us about and Norah let it slip at breakfast.”

  “What?” Cal looked surprised. Angel loved getting awards, got lots of them, and usually made sure her parents knew to attend if they could, preferring that both come whenever possible. That she had kept it a secret from everyone but her sister was odd enough to make them both frown.

  Berthell shook her head. “Teenagers. Hmph. Something’s up with that little spawn of ours. We’re going to have to talk to her.” She looked at Cal. “I’ll talk to her. You go do what y’gotta do, big man.”

  Cal leaned over to give her a big kiss and then handed Newman off to her.

  Berthell turned to Phil, who had been a silent witness to their domestic bliss. He was surprised at how envious he felt, watching them sort out the day and the labor that came with raising four spawn. He snapped out of it when Berthell turned her big green eyes his way.

  “So, you’re traveling with Cal to Fairie, huh?”

  “Yes?” he said, the word ending in a rising inflection that made it a question.

  “You’re gonna make sure you make it back with both of youse in one piece, right?”

  “Yes.” And this time he made the word decisive and firm.

  “You got any other words?” she asked, laughing.

  “Yes,” he said, “but I am too intimated by the legendary Berthell Kelly to use them.”

  “Hmph,” she huffed and turned to Cal, shuffling Newman to one arm. “Smart demon.” She put the baby in the carriage and said, “Gimme a minute. I need to ask Tony something.” Then she turned to Phil. “When you get back, you come eat dinner with us.” It was clear from her voice that the invitation had only one possible response.

  Phil gave Berthell that response. Bowing ever so slightly from the waste he said, “Yes.” Then he grinned. “I’d be honored.”

&nb
sp; She strode over to Baz’s desk and pulled Tony to one side. “Hiya, Tony. How’s it goin”?”

  Tony shrugged. “Lots of drama, even without the Geas in this case. Sorry about Cal getting dragged into it.” She frowned. “I told the Lieutenant that I should go, but he wants me here.”

  “Don’t sweat it, girl. Cal’ll be fine. Just watch your back with that one,” she lowered her voice as she made a gesture at Baz, who was absorbed in the notes he was taking. “I don’t trust him.”

  “Really?” Tony looked back at Baz. “I don’t think he’s malicious.”

  “No,” Berthell agreed. “It’s not that. He’s self-righteous. And that’s way more dangerous, trust me.”

  “So Cal told you everything?” Tony sighed.

  “Honey, that’s when you marry a guy, when he tells you everything.”

  Tony’s lips tightened and she looked over at Phil. “Uh huh.”

  Berthell mentally head-smacked herself. Badly played. She was trying to foster Tony and Phil’s relationship, not give Tony more reasons to cut Phil off. She went ahead with her clandestine plans.

  “Hey, you need to come over for dinner some time soon. We got a real issue with Angel, and she might listen to you instead of me or Calvin.”

  “Sure, Berthell. My pleasure.” Tony loved the kids. “When?”

  “How about when Cal gets back?”

  “Sure,” she agreed, and then added, “Well, unless I get a call from the contact and have to go to a meeting.”

  “Yeah, yeah. We’ll work around that.” Berthell walked back over to Cal and the carriage. “Okay, love, I’m off.” She leaned over Newman. “Tell Da bye-bye!”

  Everyone was startled when Newman, who shouldn’t be talking for a few more months, answered, “Bye-bye!”

  “Holy shit!” Calvin said. “This spawn is gonna be a talker!” Just then he got a punch in the arm that knocked him to one side, mainly because it came from his beloved wife and not some smaller Being.

  “You’re gonna have to clean that mouth up around little Mannie, or his next new words are gonna make your mama blush when she comes to visit, big man!”

  “Sorry, B! Shit! I mean shoot. What I mean is that I’ll work on it!”

  She shook her head and added to the room at large. “I had to buy a little language spell for him with Angel, just to make sure she didn’t pick up anything that would get her sent home from kindergarten. She was an early talker, too.” She sighed, and as she and Newman left she said to the room in general, “Be careful, all of you.”

  Tony walked over to Cal. “You know what you’re doing in there?”

  Cal nodded and held up his f-light. “I got the list from Phil, so I’m set.”

  Tony frowned. “How many people do you have to question?”

  “Oh.” Cal pulled the list up. “Fifteen or so? Luckily, several of them hang out at the same dive dryad bar, so that’ll cut down on the travel time, as long as they show up there to drink.”

  Tony reached over and gestured, increasing magnification so she could see the names. “Sammeal? Seriously?”

  Phil turned to her. “Now you must be glad to stay here rather than go with me, as you wanted to do.”

  Tony turned back to him. “I didn’t want to go with you. I wanted to go with Cal and do some of the questioning. There’s a big difference.”

  “Ah,” Phil replied, a wealth of meaning in his reaction to her contempt. “Well, Sammeal is easier handled by those who are not his type, and ogres are one of the few Beings he does not try to bed, so it will be better for Calvin to question him.” Phil looked over at the list. “Actually, there are several Beings here that will be easier to question with Calvin by my side. You will have to trust your partner to do as good a job as you would do.”

  Tony opened her mouth, angry that he would suggest that she didn’t trust Calvin. Before she could say anything, Phil continued.

  “Of course, with your trust issues, that will be difficult.” He turned to Cal. “I have every faith in you, detective.”

  Tony made a strangled noise in her throat before turning to Cal. “Dude, you know I trust you, right?”

  “Of course,” Cal said hesitantly, feeling his way through the sentence and the subtext he heard in the conversation between Phil and Tony. “You just got control issues is all. Am I right?” When she glared, he looked at Phil and made a face. “Uhm…I mean…”

  She pointed at the list. “I only want to know that you’ll be okay and get back here. I think you should still be on leave.”

  “Oh, oh yeah,” Cal nodded. “I get it. But hey, duty calls and all. Don’t sweat it. I’ll see you on the other side of this.” When she still looked worried, he told her in his best Terminator voice, “I’ll be back.”

  “You goofball.” Tony punched him as high as she could on his arm. Then she turned and gave Phil a pointed look.

  He put out his hands and shrugged. “I will keep him safe.”

  She glared at him and said, “I’ll hold you to that, demon.”

  As the two walked away, she was angry to realize that while she worried about Cal coming to harm, she also worried that they might get delayed and that Phil might pay the price for that. She sent Calvin a burble via the f-light, saying, “Make sure you both get back in one piece.” Her brief message transferred to Cal’s light and then to his head in silent communication. She wasn’t a big burbler, though she knew some folks would rather do that than have a face-to-face conversation. She found it disconcerting to be at the beck and call of other folks’ f-lights, so she didn’t encourage others to burble at her, and she rarely burbled herself. She only did it this time to keep the message between her and Cal. She wasn’t about to let that stupid demon know that she couldn’t stand the thought that helping them might get him killed. No—if Phil knew something like that, he’d be relentless in trying to start things up again. And there was no way she was getting involved with someone who wouldn’t tell her everything. Berthell was right. Someone who would tell his partner everything, that was the kind of Being to marry—or at least date seriously.

  The last crate was the largest and had the longest nails. Tooley grabbed the crowbar and started on the nails, but they were so hard to get at that he went over to the tools lying around the room and picked up a large hammer.

  “What are you doing?” Crystal shrieked as he started to whack crowbar jammed in the top of the box with the hammer.

  “I’m trying to get this open,” he told her.

  “Don’t do that,” she hissed. “The contents are quite delicate!”

  He nodded and went back to just using the crowbar. It took him forever to pry any of the nails loose, but finally the box lid shifted and came free. Before he could lift the lid off, as he had done with the other two, she stopped him. “Stand back. I shall do this one.”

  He obeyed, in part because he had no choice under her spell and in part because he assumed that this box might actually contain something that could kill him. In a way he was correct, though not in the way he assumed.

  Crystal lifted the lid off carefully. From a few feet away, he saw another box inside, nestled in straw. It was an elaborately carved stone sarcophagus. That explained why that box had been so heavy, he realized. The material looked to be marble, and the shapes carved into it looked very much in the same style, if not the same shape, as those on the box and pendant which Crystal had called An Ounce of Prevention. He watched as his captor ran her hands over the top of the box, a ripple of magic passing over it as it oozed from her hands. When she lifted her hands from the box, the lid popped, as if it had a vacuum seal. She carefully pushed the lid up.

  “I believe it is safe for you to come to me,” she whispered to Tooley. When he didn’t move, she turned to him furiously. “Come here!” Her first words had not been a command, and so he had not been compelled. When she ordered him, he moved so quickly he almost knocked her into the box and onto the contents. “Clumsy oaf,” she muttered, her voice less treacly s
weet than it had been only moments before. In fact, she had the screeching undertone of the lowest witch. The part of him free to question wondered how he had missed that. The part of him responding to her needs knew only that she called him and he had to obey.

  Regaining her balance, Crystal turned to Tooley. “This is the most important gift of all!” she told him.

  Tooley looked into the box, curious to see what this mad witch could mean.

  Inside the stone sarcophagus lay a woman, not a girl but not a very old-looking Being either. She was closer to six feet tall than five, but well proportioned. Her short hair, cut in a Mundane style called a pixie cut, though no self-respecting pixie would tolerate such short hair, was strawberry pink. Scars on the right cheek and chin added character to what was otherwise simply a pretty and even familiar-looking face, though he could not place where he could have seen her before today. She probably resembled some actress with whom he had worked. Without those scars, she would look like a doll on a shelf, waiting to be bought. With the scars, she looked like she had done things in her life. Her clothing was pure Fairie—vaguely Medieval-looking to the average Mundane, a white velvet gown, its bodice a contrast in royal blue and its sleeves beribboned with the same material. The full sleeves gathered in a wide cuff that kept the woman’s hands free. The long skirt had a slit on each side, and one leg was visible, encased in brown leather leggings. She wore leather half boots as well. It was then that he noticed a sword hilt peeking out from the slit on the other side of the dress and on the side closest to him, a dagger handle in the top of her boot. Whoever she was, this creature was dressed both to please the eye and to kill.