“You two know each other?” I asked, casually.
“Knew.” Amy said quickly. “Back quite some time ago.”
“Oh, it seems like it was just yesterday, Amy.” Finnegan said, his voice jovial. “Now, I just have to wonder why you’re running around with the first witch to show up in public in centuries.”
“None of your business.” Amy’s voice went low, almost to a hiss. “Keep the past in the past, Connor. We are talking about the present now.”
Finnegan looked like he was ready to devour Amy. I’d seen the look before, though it was usually in drunken lechers. There was something, though, about Finnegan. He had the animal nature right behind his skin. He was ready to go from one to the other in a moment.
“Amy,” I said, breaking the silence that had started in the room. “Could you please wait outside?”
“Eric, I-“
“I can handle this.” I cut in. God, I didn’t want her to have to go through this any further. This was just awkward. Somewhere in there was the supposed southern gentleman my grandma had raised who didn’t like to see women in danger. Hey, hubris, what's up?
“Fine.” She stood, and moved so quickly that she almost seemed like she was stamping out of the room. Gone was the perfect composure that seemed to be just part of her nature. She slammed the door on the way out.
“Well, I can see who wears the pants there.” Finnegan grinned. “Though she’s not your mate. You haven’t hit that yet? Pity, boyo.”
“Drop it.” I snapped at him. “Right now. We’re not here to talk about Amy. I’d prefer to talk about Sam and those two weres who were tailing us.”
He nodded, and relaxed back in his chair. I decided, in that moment, that out of the two big shots I had met so far, Ishmael was a lot more agreeable. Finnegan seemed, put plainly, like a slime ball.
“Well, Mister Carpenter, I can take a look into it. Of course, there’s no assurances we’ll find anything.”
“Bullshit.” I said. “There’s a were who attacked me, broke into my home, and they’re hampering me from trying to find one of your own.”
“Consider the fact that I never asked for your help, boyo.” He remarked. We stared at each other for a long moment. Either he was trying to stare me down, or do some sort of mystical ‘see into your soul’ business. Finally, he said. “I’ll ask around. Really. They won’t be able to hide it. If it’s one of mine, they’ll answer for it, and you’ll get them.”
I nodded. “Thank you.” I said, and then stood. “Thank you for your time, Mister Finnegan. I can only hope that this is the beginning of a fruitful relationship.”
“There’s only one thing I want from you, Mister Carpenter, and that’s Amy.” He growled. “The bitch is mine.”
I froze, and just looked at him. He talked about her as if she was a possession, something to have. “Listen here.” I said, my voice reaching a hiss with how low I got it. “Amy is not yours. And I am going to forget that you called her that, because I got raised to respect a woman even if she didn’t want to be with my sorry, fur ball ass. So, you’re going to just drop the Amy subject, stay out of her life unless she says otherwise, and we’ll all be happier.”
He nodded. “You’ve got balls, runt. I’ll forget it, for now. Here’s to a beneficial relationship.” He was lying, for our mutual benefit on this one. I wasn't going to trust him, I knew that much.
We shook hands again, and I walked out of the conference room. Amy was back in the lobby. “Come on, we’re going.” I said.
“What happened?”
“Well, they’re going to look into it. Hopefully one of the pack here will fess up. Come on, I need to get to work.”
We had left the building and were back to the Jeep when we heard Jackson call to us. “Mister Carpenter, Amy?”
I turned around, seeing Jackson approach us. “Uh, hi, Jackson,” I said. I shoved my hands into my pockets, thinking about the bad feeling I had gotten from Finnegan when we left. Was he here as an enforcer? “What can we do for you?”
“Can we discuss this in your car?”
I nodded to Amy. “Let’s.”
“Very well.” Amy sighed and unlocked the Jeep. I sat in the back seat with Jackson, while Amy sat down in the driver’s seat. “Talk, Mister Miller.” She instructed him.
“Finnegan’s lying. He isn't going to investigate this at all.”
“And how do you know that?” I asked him.
“Because Finnegan wouldn’t know. We’ve had a lot of people from out of town show up in the last year, and Finnegan can’t control all the weres. It’s not like the vampires, who can control their numbers. We breed, Eric, and we’re an ever-changing people.”
I sat back into the seat. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I want to be honest with you, Eric.” He said. “You seem like a good man, one I can trust.”
“And here it comes.” Amy muttered.
Jackson shot her a glare. “It’s not like that. Amy, I’m not like Finnegan. I just have the interests of the weres of San Francisco at heart.”
“And what’s in the interests of the weres?” I inquired. Finnegan had been territorial, aggressive. I sensed that Jackson wasn’t like that, at least, not in a sense that he was malevolent. He was an honest man, more protector than aggressor.
“I want them to be protected. I want them to be safe, and cared for. You remember Tyler Young, the minor pack leader you encountered on Ocean Beach?”
“Yea, sure,” I nodded. “Seemed a decent guy. How did you know that??”
“Tyler recounted that to me. He told me about you, about how well you seemed to handle the situation. Listen, Tyler’s got a sister, Rebbecca. Becca’s a good girl, but she’s ran into some trouble recently.”
“Define…trouble.” Amy said.
“She’s gotten hooked on Bliss.”
“Bliss?” I’d attended a class on it a few years ago, Terry's request..
“It’s a narcotic that has popped up in the last few years. It’s an aphrodisiac. Not just one of those placebos. It really gets a person going. It’s also a hallucinogenic, and very addictive.”
“She’s an addict.” I said. “Listen, I know a therapist. He can put you in touch with the right people to get Becca into therapy.”
“It’s not therapy she needs, not yet.” Jackson said. “She’s taken up living with a couple of Arcanes, dealers. I can’t prove they’re dealers, so I can’t reach out to the cops. And besides, it would probably start off a minor war.”
“A war, how so?” My lack of knowledge about the seedy side of San Francisco showed. I wasn’t exactly the underworld connoisseur.
“If a man of Finnegan’s is seen ratting out Bliss dealers, it means whoever controls the Bliss will see this as a cassus bellis.” Jackson explained. “And war is bad.”
“So, how does this involve me?”
“I want to pull her out, without any political bullshit. And I’d like to ask your help.”
“Help? With drug dealers?” I thought for a moment.
Amy spoke before I could think of anything to say. “No, absolutely not. We are not involving ourselves in the affairs of a drug war.”
“I’m not trying to make this political.” Jackson insisted. “I just want to help a friend. I can’t ask any of my kind because it would be seen as an act of weakness on Tyler’s part.”
“But Amy and I are outsiders.”
“Why am I being brought into this?” Amy protested. “I want nothing to do with this, and Eric certainly cannot get himself involved.”
“Why the hell not?” I asked. “She needs help. I want to make sure she gets that help.” I had a thing about abandonment. Even if I'd had two grandparents growing up, my parents were both dead before I could walk. It drilled into me early on that I didn'e want to see people abandoned, helpless.
Jackson nodded. “I’d hoped that you would see it that way. Not as me asking for your use as a soldier, but as support. I’ll just want yo
u to help you carry Becca out of there. You won’t have to fight. It gets too hot, I won’t blame you if you bug out.”
I nodded. “No fighting on my part?”
“Eric, you cannot be serious.” Amy protested.
“Damn straight I am.” I looked to her with as serious of a look as I could muster. “This is what I what to do. I want to help people. And if you want to be my guardian, you’re coming with me.”
She flat-out glared at me. “I do this under serious protest.” She growled.
“You two are certainly strange.” Jackson said. “So, what’s your deal? Are you his?”
Amy shouted, “I am not his lover!” at the exact same moment I yelled. “She is not my girlfriend!”
Jackson broke out laughing, holding his stomach in delight. “Oh, you two could take that on the road. That’s freaking gold.”
“Oh, don’t even start.” I turned my glare to Jackson. “We’ll do this. But I’m not going to be your thug. I’m just going to be there to help Becca.”
Jackson nodded. “I’m in your debt, both of you.”
Amy rolled her eyes. “I am sure. When do you wish to confront these Bliss dealers?”
“Tomorrow night, call me at five-thirty.” He pulled a card from his jacket, and handed it to me. “Here, I’ll tell you if we’re on tomorrow for it. Again, thanks. Tyler and I are going to be deeply in your debt.”
“And just what's a were's debt worth?” I asked.
“A were's debt means that we'd owe you a favor. A big one.” He said. “You're familiar with the concept of arcane debt?”
I nodded. “Yea, just remember that when Christmas cards roll around.” I mumbled. “We’ll call tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” Jackson said. “And, while I don’t expect you guys to fight, best to prepare for the worst, all right?”
“Yea, of course.” I replied. “I’ll keep that in mind. We just want to help.”
“You do.” Amy corrected.
“We want to help.” I repeated. “She just doesn’t want it to show.”
Jackson opened the car door. “Yea, well, thanks anyways.” He said. “I’ll hear from you guys tomorrow, then.”
I wondered what I had gotten myself into, but I forced myself not to regret it until after work. I was doing the right thing. Hopefully, I wouldn’t get dragged into a drug war.
Chapter 13
I know it’s not my place to complain, but after getting bit by a vampire, finding out you’re a witch, meeting two of the most powerful people in San Francisco, and learning how to use magic, working a shift at the bar seems way too boring.
The first thing I did when I went in was ask Terry a simple question. “Is Jenny working tonight?”
“Yea, she just got in a few minutes ago. Why?”
I stormed towards the back. “Oh, I just need to have words with her.”
The employee lockers at McLellan’s weren’t really lockers. They were more like cubby holes in a closet. Jenny had been putting her purse in hers when I saw her.
“Jenny, hey, how’s it going?” I asked, barely masking my anger behind a smile. Oh, I wanted her to know I was pissed.
“Eric?” She looked up to me. “Hey, uh, what’s up?”
“Oh, not a ton. Keeping busy, staying out of trouble, getting bit by your sweetheart.”
She did a double take. “What?”
“Darius, that vamp you’re sweet on, fucking attacked me two nights ago. He left me these.” I pulled down my collar to show the scars on my neck.
“What? No, Darius wouldn’t. He’s a nice guy.”
“Yea, your nice guy tried to kill me. Where’s he live?”
“What?” Jenny asked.
“Where. Does. Darius. Live.” I snapped. “It’s an easy question, but if your vapid tequila-fried noggin can’t understand that, I’ll just take your phone and root through that.”
She stared at me in shock for a moment “Eric. That…what he did to you, that’s not the Darius I know.”
“Well, then, maybe you don’t know him.” I had to stop myself. This wasn't me. I was being crazy. Then again, this was a guy who nearly killed me I was hunting. “I…I’m sorry. I only know what I know. The guy was named Darius. And I have to get to the bottom of this. He’s running around with something that’s mighty dangerous.”
“Like what?”
“Like, something I can’t tell you about.” I sighed. “Please, for a guy who doesn’t ask anything from anyone...I need help on this one.”
“I don’t know where he lives. He’s a bit of a vagabond. He’ll call me up, and we’ll meet somewhere.”
I nodded. “Then call him up, please.”
She opened the closet door, and pulled her cell phone from her bag. “Eric, something’s changed in you.”
“Yea, must be something I’m eating.” I murmured.
Jenny dialed Darius’s number, but she got his voice mail. She left him a message, then hung up. “That’s usual for him. He’ll call me back sometime in the next day.”
“Not exactly reliable, is he?”
“No, but he was sweet, and he was always a gentleman.” She shook her head. “There must be something wrong.”
“I hope this is all a mix up or something. Maybe there's two Dariuses...Darii, in the City.” I said. “Let’s get back to work. I’m sorry I came at you like that, Jenny.”
“Are you kidding?” She laughed. “You’re usually the picture of tranquility. And, I mean, I know how hard it is for that first bite. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like if it was forced.”
“Well, yea.” I smiled a little, and found myself blushing. “It’s been a crazy three days. Thanks for understanding, at least in some part.”
We hugged it out, and we went to work. Like most nights, it just flew by me. I made drinks, cleaned up a few messes, and helped Terry toss a rowdy drunk out. All in a night’s work. At about midnight, I ordered up my dinner from the kitchen. Two burgers and a basket of fries, with a big salad to go with it. The waitresses all laughed a little, and were maybe a little surprised when I devoured it in the span of my break. Great, I was a lean, mean eating machine now.
“Well, you certainly eat like a monster.” Matt said as he slipped into the seat across from me. I always ate at a table on the slower nights, and tonight wasn’t an exception.
“Apparently, because of my new…condition, I’m burning more calories than the average person. So, I’m really. really hungry.”
“Fantastic, so, how’s your day been?”
“Oh, found our missing gal’s hair, with a note taunting us. Oh, and I met the head of the Irish mob.”
“You’re kidding,” he said.
“Oh, I would never kid about mobsters,” I shot back. “He’s a werewolf, and so I got to meet him, and he lied through his teeth about helping us.”
“Jeez, compared to my clients, I’m not sure which is more crazy.”
“I think I’d go with the werewolves.” I said. “But, yea, I promised I’d tell you whatever you wanted to know. So, what do you want to know?”
“Seriously, who is Amy?”
“Amy is…I don’t know what she really is. She’s…Amy.” I said. “She’s got this thing she does with her voice. She can cause fear in people, or make suggestions with it. It’s weird. She can also help healing. And did you notice that she doesn’t use contractions?”
“Yea, what’s up with that?”
“I don’t know, it’s very odd.” I said. “She's old, even for an Arcane.”
“Like, how old are we talking here?”
I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “Okay, so, you’ll keep this between just the two of us?”
“Of course, man.” Matt nodded.
“I met someone like Amy. His name is Nick. He’s…he runs some sort of government monster-hunting program in the Federal Marshals. He’s like her, and I don’t know. They might be…something else.”
“Well, that’s heavy.”
I laughe
d a little. “Yea, no kidding. I mean, what if they are angels? They certainly don’t have halos and wings.”
Matt shrugged. “I’m no Arcane scholar. Maybe you should ask someone else,” he said. “But, uh, Amy…is she single?”
I fought the urge to slug him in the arm. “Seriously? I tell you all this, and you want to hit on a guardian angel?”
“She’s beautiful, man.” He said. “Like, crazy beautiful.”
I rolled my eyes. “Swear to God, that one-track mind’s going to get you in trouble.”
“I’ll reserve any jokes I might make about it.” Matt said.
“Yea, yea,” I sighed, and popped a fry into my mouth. “Just, give us a few days, to adjust to the crazy. This is all pretty new to me, last thing I need is you screwing this all up with your lecherous ways.”
“Lecherous ways?”
“You’re not exactly the most innocent guy. You’re not allowed to play that game.”
“Compared to you, Saint Eric,” he teased.
I sighed, ducking my head. I didn’t think to mention Teresa. The last thing I needed was Matt shrink-wrapping me over dating a vampire. “Yea, well, I have my reasons.”
“Are you really still screwed up over Rhi?”
“Don’t mention that name, please.” I didn’t want that skeleton to pop out of the closet, not tonight at least. “Matt, listen, I got to get back to work. I’ll catch you later, all right?”
“Yea, sure thing, man. Just, you know, stay safe.”
“You bet, I’ll see you.”
I brought my knife with me when I took out the trash that night. Thankfully, I didn’t get mauled, attacked, and no corpses were in our bins. No, it was what was back at the bar that surprised me tonight. I washed my hands, got back behind the bar, and walked to the first person I saw who hadn’t been served yet.
“What can I get you?”
“I have to say, Eric,” Teresa had a big grin as she looked up from underneath her dark lashes. “You just don’t seem the type.”
I was frozen there for a moment. How did Teresa know I worked here? Granted, there could only be so many bartenders named Eric Carpenter in San Francisco, but seriously?
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