Crucible Steele (Daggers & Steele Book 5)

by Alex P. Berg

  Lazarus sat in a chair in the middle of the room, his hands cuffed and chained to a metal table that in turn had been bolted to the floor. The setup concerned me, but I was certain Shay and Cairny had signed off on the arrangement. A couple of cops stood guard inside the room, and they were still alive, so I supposed it must be safe enough.

  I took a seat across from Lazarus, who followed me with his right eye. Other than the scrape along his temple left from the blow of my mailed fist, he seemed no worse for wear, though his breathing did seem shallow. Perhaps I had broken a rib.

  The Captain stepped through the interrogation room’s open door. He nodded to the bluecoats. “Dismissed, men.”

  The two cops glanced at each other, but they knew better than to argue. They left and closed the door. The Captain took the only other seat available.

  Lazarus and the bulldog stared at each other. A moment stretched into twelve winks. The air crackled, but not with electricity—rather simple tension. I considered opening my mouth, but I didn’t. Let one of them break the ice.

  The Captain finally took the lead. “Been a long time, Lazarus.”

  Laz’s voice came across as pained, but whether from his rib or something more nebulous, who knew. “Likewise, Abe.”

  Another moment stretched into an eternity.

  “So…” asked the Captain. “What’ve you been up to over the years?”

  “Really?” said Lazarus with a raise of his brow. “That’s how you’re going to play this?”

  The Captain snorted and shook his head. He gazed at the wall. “All this time—over twenty years, now—I thought you’d acted as an informant for us. Turns out it was always the other way around, wasn’t it?”

  Lazarus scowled and leaned over the table. “What do you want me to say, Abe? That you’re wrong? That I don’t know what you’re talking about? That I’m sorry?”

  “That is wasn’t all a lie would be a start,” said the Captain.

  “What wasn’t a lie?” said Laz.

  Captain met the man’s eye. “Our friendship.”

  I blinked. I still hadn’t said a word, and I didn’t plan on changing that now. Things had taken a decidedly odd turn.

  Now it was Lazarus’s turn to snort. “If you think it was a lie, then you’re blinder than I am.”

  “And how do you figure that?” asked the Captain.

  Lazarus jerked his thumb at me the best be could, given his shackles. “This lackey of yours is still alive, for starters.”

  “And Griggs?” said the Captain.

  Lazarus averted his eyed. “Griggs was never a friend, and it wasn’t my fault he got the short end of the garrote. He was in too deep with the Wyverns.”

  The Captain slammed his fist into the table. “You killed him!”

  “I did what I had to!”

  Spittle flew. Lazarus matched the bulldog heat for heat. I could’ve cut the air with a knife.

  Red bloomed in the Captain’s jowls, but it was short lived. When again he spoke, it was in his usual, measured, mirthless tone. “What was he up to? What did he know? Did Griggs uncover your dragon plot? Is that why you murdered him?”

  Lazarus turned his head. “I think it’s time I get my lawyer.”

  The Captain stared at Laz. I don’t think I could ever recall such disappointment in his face. “So that’s how it ends? Played out in the courtroom? You don’t even have the balls to tell me the truth?”

  Lazarus snorted again. “As if the truth mattered.”

  “Doesn’t it?” asked the Captain.

  “What matters is the narrative,” said Lazarus. “And between you, me, Griggs, and the Wyverns? Trust me. I may not be police, but I know how this’ll play out. Exactly as you’ve outlined. Now get me my lawyer. You owe me that, if nothing else.”

  The Captain clenched his jaw. For a moment I thought he might speak, but instead he rose, opened the door, and stepped out.

  I turned my gaze back to Lazarus, still trying to process everything. What hadn’t the Captain told me? How well did he really know Lazarus? And what about Griggs?

  “Why didn’t you kill me?” I asked.

  Lazarus lifted his head, his one seeing eye cloudy. From pain, or guilt perhaps?

  “Why are you still here?” he said.

  “Seriously,” I said. “The first time. In the cistern. You could’ve struck me down like a gnat.”

  “You think I lied to Abe?” he said. “You’re more clueless than I thought.”

  So the lightning mage turned smuggler did consider the Captain a friend? “I’m still a little fuzzy. In the end, was Griggs on our side, or yours?”

  This time the air crackled for real. “Get out.”

  I did.

  I found the Captain in the hallway outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a scowl firmly planted across his face.

  I struggled as I tried to collect my thoughts. Sleep deprivation wasn’t helping me any. “I, uh… Maybe I shouldn’t have been in there.”

  The Captain waved me off. “Don’t worry about it, Daggers. There aren’t any secrets between us. Not any more.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that.

  I stuffed my hands in my pockets. Now that we’d retreated to the hallway, I felt the chill more keenly. “Well, at least we got him, right? Griggs’ killer, and Barrett’s in all likelihood. This is a victory.”

  “Of sorts,” said the Captain. “Yes, we got him. But he wasn’t the Wyvern’s head. I may have been wrong about Lazarus—clearly I don’t know him as well as I thought I did—but I know the kind of man he is. You may have seen him shouting orders in that underground den, but there’s someone above him. Someone who’ll keep the Wyvern machine humming, even after the loss of their dragons—or at least those we managed to impound at the cistern exits. In some form and by whatever means necessary, they’ll live. And believe me when I tell you, they’ll remain powerful, though it might take them a while to rise from their ashes.”

  “So, you’re saying they’re more like phoenixes than wyverns?”

  “Please, Daggers. I’m not in the mood.”

  “Sorry.” I waited a moment before broaching the obvious question. “So…what about Griggs?”

  “Externally? He can be a hero. But internally?” The Captain shook his head. “People will hear snippets and tidbits, even before the trial, and for the most part folks around here have pretty good heads on their shoulders. There’s too much doubt, Daggers. That’s where Laz was right. The truth probably doesn’t matter. The narrative does.”

  I didn’t really want to ask, but I had to. “And how does the narrative portray you, Captain?”

  The old jarhead sighed. “I knew a major Wyvern player, Jake. Not as well as I thought, but I knew him. That’ll come out. No way around it.”

  I stared at the floor as a hole grew in the pit of my stomach.

  The bulldog clapped me on the shoulder. “Hey. Buck up. You did your job. Admirably, despite conflicting information and orders. Don’t worry about me. I’ll pull through. You on the other hand should go home. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

  “I napped yesterday late afternoon.”

  “That was longer ago than you realize.”

  He pointed in the direction of the stairs, and I started to move.

  “Daggers.”

  I stopped and turned.

  “Thanks,” said the Captain. “For everything. I owe you.”

  I just nodded.

  42

  Sunlight streamed through the windows and into the pit as I reached the top of the stairs. Based on the shadows, I figured it had to be at least ten o’clock. Probably closer to eleven. Surprisingly enough, the demon who lived inside me hadn’t gnawed a hole through my stomach yet. Chances are he was asleep, as I should be.

  I cast my gaze over to my desk and found Steele seated on the edge of hers, looking fresh and lovely and no worse for wear despite the la
ck of sleep and overnight imprisonment. Rodgers and Quinto stood to her side, chatting her up. I made my way over and joined the party.

  “You’re back,” I said.

  Rodgers gave me a tired nod, one that Quinto mirrored.

  “How’d it go?” I asked. “Good, I assume, if you’ve already returned.”

  Quinto nodded. “Yeah. Once Bonesaw came to understand the magnitude of the charges against him, he basically gave up. Thought he might get a little leniency if he stopped making our lives hell.”

  Following our takedown of Lazarus and the Wyverns, while Steele and I’d wrapped up the loose ends and pulled on the corners of the police net we’d set up, I’d sent an unenthusiastic Rodgers and Quinto to take care of some business that had nagged at me since my last encounter with the ogre. It sounded as if they’d gotten what they’d needed.

  “So,” I said. “Did you find her?”

  “Your elf friend, Kyra?” Rodgers nodded. “She was in Bonesaw’s apartment. In a back room, tied and gagged and generally frightened half to death.”

  “Meaning she was alive,” I said.

  “Yes,” said Quinto. “So we can’t add murder to the charges against Bonesaw. But between grand theft, aggravated assault, kidnapping, and attempted murder of a police officer, he’ll be going away for a long time—despite his eventual cooperation in the interrogation room.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “How’s Kyra?”

  “Now?” said Rodgers. “Surprisingly okay. She’s a tough cookie. Though she’s missing a finger. One of our medics patched her up, and she’s in the process of giving her statement.”

  Shay made herself known. “I wonder how much of your escapades with the Wyverns are going to make it into said statement…”

  I’d given Steele and the gang a rundown of my clandestine activities while we’d prepared to raid the Wyvern base, even if I hadn’t gone into much detail.

  “Given what she’s been through, I’m inclined to let it slide,” I said. “Besides, other than the theft of the hummingbird brooch, I don’t think she committed any crimes during our time together, and I don’t actually have any evidence that ties her to that particular theft. I assume it was her based on how the crucible games went.”

  “Games?” said Steele.

  “I’d say so, yes. To be honest, I’m still not sure if they made the whole thing up to keep me busy or if real Wyvern recruits are put through similar tests. And speaking of the crucible, any word on Cobb?”

  Shay shook her head. “As far as I know, none of the teams at the cistern exits found him.”

  “Which means he’s still out there.” I clenched my teeth. While Lazarus’s interrogation had firmed my suspicions about him and Griggs, that didn’t exonerate Cobb from wrongdoing. I was sure the pale-skinned Wyvern played a greater part in the tangled web than we knew. Perhaps he’d murdered Barrett? Either way, I hated knowing he still roamed the streets.

  Shay knew me too well. “We’ll find him.”

  Rodgers nodded. “We’ve got so many Wyverns in custody now that the ones who got away won’t be able to hide for long. Especially now that we’ve got their leader behind bars.”

  Given what the Captain had told me, I wasn’t sure either statement was true.

  “Speaking of which,” continued Rodgers, “there’s something I still don’t get. Lazarus is an electromancer, right? I’ll admit that’s pretty wild, but what about his skill set makes him a valuable asset to a gang of dragon smugglers?”

  I’d thought about that myself without any revelations. “I think any gang would be happy to have a guy like that on their side.”

  “Really?” said Shay. “Daggers, given the connection you made between Lazarus and Griggs’ means of death, I thought you’d already figured this out. A small electric shock hurts. A big one kills. One right in the middle—the perfect amount—can knock someone out.”

  A light flickered in my head. “Someone?”

  “Electric shocks are probably one of the only non-lethal ways to make dragons go down for the count,” said Shay. “Other than tranquilizers, but who knows how dragons respond to drugs.”

  Quinto didn’t seem interested by our current line of thought. “So, Daggers…Steele tells us you interrogated Lazarus.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I knew what he was getting at.

  I shook my head. “He didn’t have a whole lot to say, to be honest, and what he did say would go over better coming from the Captain, I think. Regardless, it’ll take time for me to digest it all.”

  “Meaning?” asked Quinto with a raised eyebrow.

  “Meaning we got our guy, but it’s far past time we all went home and got some shut eye,” I said. “My puzzler doesn’t work too well when it’s running on empty. I can only imagine how the rest of you feel. At least I got a nap yesterday.”

  Rodgers and Quinto both voiced their agreement, as well as Rodgers voicing a sentiment about Allison possibly killing him for not sending word that he wasn’t dead. Oh, the irony… After some hems and haws, they nodded their heads and waved their goodbyes and headed for the door.

  Shay hopped off the edge of her desk and donned her jacket, which she’d draped over the back of her chair.

  “You’re way too chipper given how long you’ve been up,” I said as we started for the exit.

  “And why wouldn’t I be?” she said with a smile. “I mean, I suppose I could fixate on the fact that I’ve been up and working for over twenty-four hours, and in that period I was kidnapped and imprisoned in an underground dungeon. However, I choose to think of the positives. That I was rescued from said dungeon by a handsome if somewhat self-centered knight with childlike sensibilities. That we solved our murders, taking down a powerful smuggling ring at the same time. And that it’s morning. As you know, I’m a morning person. Apparently that doesn’t change even when you’ve been up for as long as I have.”

  “Speaking of the first point,” I said, “be on the lookout for the Captain’s watchful eye. He suspended me for having an old friend get murdered. He might do the same to you after your kidnapping. You know—to protect your fragile female psyche.”

  “Same as yours?”

  “Touché,” I said.

  I pushed against the station’s front doors, holding them open for Shay before stepping on through. As they swung closed behind me I heard a trickle of a shout.

  “Baggers! I mean, Daggers!”

  I paused on the 5th Street Precinct’s front steps and turned. A moment later, the double doors burst open. In their wake came Kyra, dressed in a brown leather jacket and slim chinos, both of which had been marred by scrapes and scuffs and spattered blood. A bandage, partially stained red, covered her left hand.

  Before I knew it, she’d enveloped me in a hug.

  “Thank you!” she said. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you. If you hadn’t stopped Bonesaw and figured out what he’d done with me, I swear that lug would’ve split me into quarters and turned me into elf jerky. Even under the best of circumstances, he would’ve left me to rot and sold my bones for glue. I mean, I’d heard the stories about him going in, but I’d never guessed he was that bad. I thought his act was largely just that. Goes to show what I know…”

  Kyra pulled away, possibly noticing my wooden stance or the unsure look on my face or perhaps even Shay’s close presence.

  “Oh…sorry,” said Kyra. “I’m interrupting.”

  “No, it’s alright,” I said. “I’m glad to see that other than your finger, you’re safe and sound—and apparently okay with the fact that I’m a little more righteous than you originally thought.”

  Kyra waved a hand. “Water under the bridge. Besides, I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

  I glanced at her wrists, which obviously weren’t cuffed. “So I assume your deposition went well.”

  “Wasn’t my first, and it won’t be my last,” she said. “But that’s besides the poi
nt. I just wanted to thank you for saving my life, and I don’t mean that lightly. I owe you one…Baggers.”

  She leaned in and planted a kiss on my cheek. I felt it redden as she pulled back. She gave me a teensy finger wave as she left before blending into the traffic on 5th Street.

  I turned to Steele, who stood there with a smile on her face. I felt my second cheek grow warm. “She wasn’t that goofy or friendly during our Wyvern encounters, if you’re wondering. I’m thinking the medic gave her some painkillers and they’re starting to take effect.”

  “So, how does it feel to have saved two pretty elf girls in one day?” asked Steele. “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that’s a first.”

  I blinked. “You’re…not jealous?”

  “Of what?”

  My brain wasn’t working right thanks to the sleep deprivation. Either that, or Steele’s wasn’t. “The kiss.”

  “Why would I be?” said Steele. “She pecked you on the cheek. After what you did for her, I’d say it was deserved. I would be jealous, on the other hand, if she’d done this.”

  Shay closed and kissed me. Her lilac perfume filled my nostrils. Her hair brushed against my face, and her slim nose pressed against the side of my own. But it was her lips—soft, warm, and coursing with everything I loved about her—that consumed me. I felt them on my own, wet and welcoming and ever so expressive. Tender. Loving. And along with their embrace, they imparted knowledge that our moment in the dark was neither an illusion nor a mistake.

  After a few seconds or perhaps a lifetime, she stepped back. She pulled away the hand she’d cupped the side of my face with, which I hadn’t even noticed until now.

  “So,” she said. “How about breakfast before we head home?”

  I blinked again. “Huh?”

  “Or lunch, depending on how you want to define it. We could meet somewhere in the middle and call it brunch, even if we don’t spring for waffles and eggs and smoked fish.”

  I tried to collect my thoughts through the blinding wave of kiss-induced emotions. “I…uh…”

  “What is it?” asked Shay. “Are you really so against the concept of brunch?”