by Skye Knizley
The gunman stopped reaching for the shotgun and raised his hands, ignoring the blood dripping from his nose.
"It isn't brave, but it's probably the smartest thing you've ever done," Raven said. "You're under arrest for attempted robbery, attempted murder, messing up my hair and for screwing up my perfectly good lunch."
"Back up is on the way, as well as a meat wagon and paramedics," Levac said, entering through the back door. He hadn't even pulled his weapon.
"Thanks, Rupe," Raven said, pulling out her cuffs. She looked down at the thug by her feet and dropped the handcuffs on his chest. "You know what to do, bub."
Grudgingly the crook put the cuffs around his wrists and Raven holstered her pistol.
Nadia appeared at her elbow and offered her a cup of steaming black coffee.
"Thanks, Detective Storm," the girl said. "I was hoping you got the message, I didn't know what else to do."
"You did great, kid," Raven said, ruffling the girl's hair and taking the coffee. "You go check on your dad while we wait for backup. This guy isn't bleeding all over the Shelby."
Nadia smiled and walked into the office where her father was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands.
"These scumbags are getting bolder all the time," Raven said quietly.
Levac looked at his partner, his eyes meeting hers. "So are you. That was the third 211 you've handled alone in two weeks. You're taking a lot of chances, Ray."
Raven opened her mouth to say something sarcastic, but seeing the look in her partner's eyes, choked it back. "You're right," she said. "I'm just trying to keep you safe. I've lost too many good friends to bad luck."
Levac nodded, but didn't look any happier. "I know, Raven. But you're not the only one who cares about their partner."
Raven looked away and sipped at her coffee as the sound of sirens got closer. She didn't really know what else to say.
* * *
It was three hours later; the suspects had been processed and taken away, reports had been filed and Raven now sat in Lieutenant Frost's office, her legs stretched out in front of her. His office looked like a movie set, like he'd watched The Last Action Hero one too many times. Glass windows covered by blinds looked out into the squad room, a desk you could land a helicopter on dominated the room and the rest of the walls displayed Frost's and the unit's many commendations. Rumor was he dusted them personally before he went home each night.
The Lieutenant entered a few moments later, his grey suit looking impeccable over his lanky frame. He sat across from Raven and ran a hand through his silver hair. Raven smiled at the gesture; Frost always reminded her of Dick Van Dyke and his mannerisms were getting closer every day. It was almost uncanny.
Frost flipped open a folder and pulled out the first sheet of paper.
"Your report indicates you and Levac encountered a 211 in progress while stopping for lunch, is that correct?" he asked.
Raven straightened in her chair. "Yes, sir. We stopped at Wonderdawgs for the usual cop lunch and Nadia, the clerk, managed to alert us to the crime in progress."
Frost consulted his notes and glared at Raven. "By putting sugar in your coffee?"
"Well, she wrote a message on the cup as well," Raven said. "It was collected as evidence."
The lieutenant frowned. "You then proceeded into the restaurant without backup, killing four suspects in the process and doing two thousand dollars in damage?"
"No sir. The only damage I did was to the suspects," Raven replied, matching Frost's glare. "Those idiots shot up the restaurant. You know I hit what I aim at, Chris, what's with all this hassle?"
Frost glared at Raven a moment longer and then nodded. "The Chief will make us pay for the damage, regardless, you know that. I'm also going to put a reprimand in your file for going in without backup. I've told you about that shit before. You have a partner for a reason."
Raven's eyes glowed and she almost snarled at Frost. "You know that cops who back me up end up dead or in the hospital! I am not letting Rupert get blown away due to some dumbass regulation!"
"I know," Frost said with a sigh. "So maybe you could try working within regulations instead of being so trigger happy. You could try actually arresting someone for a change."
Raven did snarl this time, her vampire side struggling to come free. "Maybe you can tell that to my dead partners! If I'd been a little faster, maybe Cruze and Davis would be alive, Wilson wouldn't be a damn junkie and Owen wouldn't be in a wheelchair!"
"Suspects have rights, Storm," Frost said, leaning away from Raven's angry glare.
"So do victims and I didn't hear any complaints from them!" Raven replied. "Are we through, Lieutenant or do you want to fire my ass?"
Frost looked up at her. "There's one more thing, Storm, and you're on the edge of another reprimand. The Shevlin case. Those Thirst vials had to come from somewhere and they look a lot like the ones we have in evidence. I want you to check with Wilson and see what you can come up with."
"Whatever," Raven replied.
She exited Frost's office, letting the door slam behind her, drawing the attention of every detective in the squad room. She ignored their surprised looks and walked toward the exit. She knocked on Levac's desk on her way out and said, "we're up, partner," before grabbing her purse and walking down the back stairs.
She was opening the door to the Shelby when Levac joined her.
"What happened back there?" he asked, opening the passenger door.
"I got dressed down by Frost, a new reprimand in my file and a possible lead," Raven replied, bringing the Shelby to life.
"A reprimand? What for?" Levac asked.
Raven shook her head and drove out into traffic. "Putting victim's rights ahead of those of the scumbags that call this city home. Don't worry about it. We're heading out to see Wilson."
Levac gave a half frown and looked over at Raven.
"Wilson? Out in The Dark?" he asked.
"Yep. Frost thinks he might have a lead and we haven't much else to go on."
Raven guided the Shelby through afternoon traffic, eventually leaving the other vehicles behind as they got closer to the noisome area of the city known appropriately as The Dark. Years ago a large section of the city had been rendered almost lifeless in an accident, the cause of which remained unknown. Wilson lived in a battered trailer near the very edge of The Dark, a place where almost no one would bother him.
Deciding to risk it, Raven drove down the lane toward Wilson's trailer. Steam billowed from old gutters and rattled manhole covers that had been locked down by the city's engineers. When the event first happened, teams were sent into both The Dark and the tunnels to try and figure out what happened. None were ever found and now only preternaturals ventured into the area. No one wanted to know what was down in the tunnels.
She guided the car around the manhole covers and got as close as she dared to The Dark before parking along the side of the street. From the car she could see that the trailer hadn't changed much in the last few months. The generator that ran Wilson's electricity had been replaced with a newer model, but otherwise things were the same. The white doublewide sagged on old leveling jacks that hadn't been touched in years, Wilson's bicycle was still lashed in place by chains usually used in restraining angry bears and all the windows were still blocked from the inside by sheets of newspaper.
"Wilson can be real nervous around new people," Raven said as she and Levac walked toward the trailer. "Try not to make any sudden moves and keep your hands away from your pockets."
"Is he violent?" Levac asked, looking at the abandoned buildings that surrounded Wilson's trailer. The crumbling brickwork and shattered windows were enough to give anyone the shakes.
"No, not usually. But he could clam up on us and if he knows where those Thirst vials came from, then we need him to talk."
"I'll follow your lead, Ray."
They reached the trailer and squeezed past the smoke-billowing generator and up the steps that led to the door. Th
e steps creaked and groaned under their feet and Levac grabbed the handrail as if it was a life-preserver.
"What's the matter Rupe?" Raven asked with a grin. "Afraid of some creaks and groans? Trust me, the steps are designed to make noise. Wilson knows we're here."
"He tunes the steps?" Levac asked in surprise.
"He's got nothing better to do in the dead of night," Raven replied.
They reached the door and Raven knocked politely, ignoring the gaunt face peering at her from a gap in one of the windows.
"Wilson? It's Raven. I have my partner Detective Levac with me."
"Go…go away," Wilson stammered. "I got nothing t…t…t…to tell you."
"Oh don't make me go through this, Wilson," Raven said. "I've got fifty bucks that says you can help me with a case."
The door opened a crack and she could see the gaunt blue-eyed stare in the gloom.
"Show me the c…cash!" he said.
Raven fished in her purse and pulled out a crisp fifty-dollar bill which she held up between two fingers.
"Fifty bucks, Wilson, I just need a name," Raven said.
"What kind of name?" Wilson asked.
Raven could hear him picking at the scabs that covered his arms and tried not to let it get to her. He'd been her friend. And a good cop, once.
"We need to know who is dealing Thirst in plain glass vials, no street name," Raven said.
"I d…don't do Thirst no more," Wilson said, his gaunt face becoming a mask of horror.
Levac stepped forward and smiled.
"Mr. Wilson, I'd sure appreciate it if you could help us out," he said in his best Columbo voice. "We've got a murder on our hands and well, sir, you're our only real lead."
"You must be Levac," Wilson said, looking the trench-coated man up and down. "I h…h…heard about you. First partner besides me to stick with Storm for more'n a week."
"That's me," Levac said, still smiling. "Can you help us out, sir?"
"Storm cleaned out most of the Thirst dealers around here," Wilson stuttered.
"There has to be one left, Wilson," Raven interjected. "I found unmarked Thirst at a crime scene. Two people are dead and the Thirst was somehow involved."
Wilson looked at Raven and Levac and Raven saw in him the good cop he had once been. "Try the warehouse district, six blocks toward the river from Club Purgatory," he said in a clear, strong voice. "You might find what you are looking for there."
"Thank you, Mr. Wilson," Levac said. "Thank you very much."
Raven smiled and pulled another fifty from her purse. She slipped both through the gap in the door. "Get something to eat, Wilson. I'll see you later," she said.
Wilson nodded once and closed the door, shooting the bolts as Raven and Levac trotted down the stairs and headed back toward the Shelby.
"Thanks, Rupe," Raven said.
"For what?" Levac asked.
Raven smiled and said, "For being a damn good detective. For being you."
Levac smiled back, "you're welcome, Ray. That's what partners are for."
The pair continued down the lane to where the Shelby waited. They slipped inside and, as Raven brought the engine to life, Levac asked, "So, we going to go shake some trees near Club Purgatory? It should be full dark by then."
“That's the plan," Raven replied. "Just hope some fruit falls out, so far we got nothing, not even a head."
* * *
CHAPTER THREE
A deep, cloudless night had fallen and the hovering, overcast clouds had sunk until the city's tallest buildings vanished into them. The gas lamps that ringed Old Town and the warehouses beyond were being lit by young men carrying torches on narrow poles and even in the chilly weather, party-going young people were entering Old Town for a night of excitement, many dressed in either Victorian style or, as was far too often the case with younger women wearing just enough to skirt the city's decency laws.
Several new businesses had opened in Old Town over the last few weeks. Club Purgatory, the Old Curiosity Shoppe and Marie's Curiosities were still there, as they'd always been, but they had been joined by a new magic shop called The Chamber of Secrets, a Victorian style tavern strangely named The Lost Room and a Scottish restaurant called Isle of Night. The Chamber of Secrets sold those things that tourists loved so much; fake wands, love potions that were mainly sports drink mixed with soda water and other such nonsense. The Lost Room, a well decorated and expensive eatery and bar, was a vampire-run business for those who had no interest in or more taste than the blood fest that was Club Purgatory. Last, but not least, the freshly opened Isle of Night was a reasonably priced restaurant that served everything Scottish, including Cullen Skink, a thick fish soup, clootie dumplings and of course haggis, which they insisted was a beautiful dish.
Raven left the Shelby outside Isle of Night and handed the valet a folded bill.
"Just leave it there," she said. "It's fine with MacLeod."
She and Levac walked down the cobbled sidewalk, both huddling in their coats as they made their way down the lane toward Club Purgatory. Raven stared angrily at the converted warehouse. Vampires and lycans both used it as a hangout and a way to, against Valentina's laws, turn innocents. It had also been one of the main sources of Thirst back when she'd been in narc and she had beaten the door down on more than one occasion. The large neon sign sparked and crackled in the night, an effect that never failed to shock and amuse tourists. Raven just thought it was stupid, but had to admit the blood-red sign against the black background made the place noticeable. It was still early, but a line was already forming outside, waiting until the doors opened at 9:00p.m. Club Purgatory, no matter how much Raven hated it, was still the place to be for a supernatural thrill.
The two detectives continued past the old warehouse and deeper into the back-alleys of Old Town, pushing through iron gates that creaked like something out of a Vincent Price movie and skirting the steam-belching drains that dotted the lane. Here, the buildings were even older and less restored than the businesses that framed the courtyard. Many of the Victorian houses still served as residences for those who owned residences or worked in the area. Gas lights flickered in windows, casting a warm yellow glow out into the street that seemed to push back not only the darkness, but also the evening's bone-numbing chill. The flame made Raven smile and she instinctively reached for Levac's hand. He didn't resist, but held it gently, not saying anything as they continued deeper into the maze of ancient sidewalks.
"Yo mama, you don't want to be going no further!"
The voice so surprised Raven she had drawn her Automag and spun before she even realized she'd done it. In the shadows of one of the alleyways stood a short, thin man wearing a yellow hoodie, black jeans, hiking boots and a do' rag that held his black hair back from his face. The hoodie read "Love Machine" in big pink letters and Raven smiled in spite of herself.
"What did you say, sir?" Levac asked, gently pushing Raven's pistol down.
The short man inhaled on the blunt he'd been clutching and stepped into the light, flicking the ember into a nearby drain with practiced ease.
"I said, you don't want to go no further," he repeated. "You're heading into Black Widow territory and them cats ain't right; they're peddling nothing, but that red death shit."
"You mean Thirst?" Raven asked.
"I ain't talking about pixie dust, lady," the man replied.
"How do you know that?" Levac asked.
The kid frowned and folded his arms over his chest, "Why you asking, Codumbo?"
Raven flipped out her badge and fought back a smile. The kid had gotten Levac's precinct nickname in one go.
"Detectives Storm and Levac, Chicago police. That's why we're asking," she said. "Now tell us about Thirst."
"Shit! Yo, I always help out our boys and girls in blue," he said, grinning at Raven. "Especially the girls. I'm Paco, by the way, but you can call me Love Machine."
"We'll stick with Paco, thanks," Levac said.
“Whatevs, ma
n." Paco said with another leer at Raven. "Look, these Black Widow chicks came in about five weeks ago. Knives, guns, probably even grenades, who the heck knows? They took over this whole section of Old Town and run the show from the old meat packing plant."
"Black Widows? That's a weird name. What are they, a clique or something?" Raven asked.
"Yeah, that’s what they call themselves, like some crazy all-girl biker gang or some shit. Bad-ass women if you ask me."
"How do you know they are pushing Thirst?" Levac asked, writing in his notepad.
Paco bristled and stepped forward. "Cause I seen it, Holmes! Two of my crew tried that red shit. One ended up dumb and blind down at the Sisters of Mercy by St. Jude's, the other got shot down by cops when he tried to bite his girl. I ain't sitting out here warning folks out of the goodness of my heart!"
"Are they selling Thirst out of the plant too?" Raven interjected, one hand on Levac's elbow.
"Yeah, mama. They make it and sell it out of the plant," Paco replied. "Far as me and the boys can tell, all the other buildings are empty, for now."
"Look, Paco," Raven said. "Don't call me mama, mamacita, or anything other than Detective Storm, are we clear?"
Paco smiled again. "Whatever you say, Detective."
"Is there anything else you can tell us?" Levac asked.
"Yeah, you two are going to need more firepower if you plan to take them down. Like maybe another dozen people armed with rocket launchers or some Halo shit," Paco said.
"I think we've got things under control, Paco," Raven said. "Thank you for the tip."
"You got it ma…Detective Storm."
Raven shook her head and led the way toward the old meat-packing plant. Back in the early days of Chicago, the city was known for its slaughterhouses and meats. The packing plant was a throwback to those days, left undamaged by the fire and largely unaffected by age. Until recently it had been a home for runaways; confused pureblood lycans and vampires found the smell of old blood and meat comforting. It would have taken some doing to get them to move. Even young preternaturals were more than a match for most humans. That meant these Black Widows were probably something more.
