by RJ Blain
“You asked someone for advice, didn’t you?” The amusement in Marian’s voice would’ve stung if I hadn’t cheerfully accepted my ineptitude years ago. “Who did you ask?”
“I asked my mother to pretend she was Dad, then gave her the model of the guns. She didn’t even think about it before informing me the correct response was marriage.”
Snickering, Larry drove us away from my apartment and into the depths of Lower Chicago. “Papa is going to be so amused to hear about this.”
“I’m expecting his assistance with the kidnapping. It can be partial payment for making off with my parents earlier.”
“Papa did find it rather humorous you ditched them so effectively. I’ve been asked to assure you he is taking good care of them. They’re sleeping off his feeding until you get in.”
“Still recovering from the earlier kneecapping?”
“A little.”
“And Marian’s shot today?”
“Healed. Werewolf blood is very potent. Would you like to handle the phone or the dress first?”
“Phone. It’s faster. Leave the meter running while I’m inside getting a new one.”
“That will cost Papa dearly.” Larry made a thoughtful sound in his throat. “If you shop at the canal, you can take care of both your errands at the same time in a rather public place. I’ll leave you my card, so when you need to call me on your new phone, you’ll have my direct number. I’ll run the meter the entire time and be at your service.”
“That will cost Ernesto dearly. I like it.” Chuckling, I settled into the seat and stared out the window at Chicago’s gloomy underworld. In a way, I appreciated the place’s harsh honesty. The dim lighting told the truth about the place and its nature, especially far from where the roads rose to the city above. The denizens of the shadows made no efforts to hide what they were and that they lived in darkness.
In Upper Chicago, looks deceived; I’d been on the force long enough to understand the truth of human nature. I liked to think I was one of the better humans, but in reality, I had survived in the city by making friends with unsavory people and consorting with demons.
Had I become as shady as those who lived beneath the streets while masquerading as a good person? I no longer knew with certainty I was one of the good guys.
“That’s a troubled expression if I ever saw one,” Marian murmured. “What’s bothering you?”
“What isn’t bothering me might be an easier question to answer.” The confession was easier than I expected.
“Walk me through it.”
“I’ll only tell Papa the juiciest bits,” Larry promised, his tone so playful he got a laugh out of me.
“Why would the captain send that many cops to my place with the bogus excuse of wanting my concealed carry permit number? He could pick up the phone, dial a number, and have it in less than five minutes. There’s no reason to send patrols to my apartment since he knew I wasn’t going to relinquish the number without a legitimate reason.”
Marian sighed. “Or why didn’t he have a cop ask for it while you were outside your apartment? Then he would’ve had legal grounds to check it. He set those visits up so you wouldn’t be forced to provide the number unless you wanted to. The whole thing stinks. I have two theories. How many can you come up with?”
“I could think of a few.”
“Humor me.”
I replied, “One. He caught wind of a death threat against me and decided one of his ex-cops being killed during a discrimination trial would look really bad for the CPD. Two. He’s looking for an excuse to nail me and thinks if he does a lot of visits, he might catch me in the act. Three. He wants to forge a copy of the permit and use it to frame me for something. Four. Someone tipped him off about Ernesto coming to my place, and he hoped to make an arrest. Five. He hates me. I could go on.”
The look Marian shot me worried me. “The first one was on my list. That last one should have been on my list. The others are viable, which disturbs me more than I care to think about. What type of hellhole town is this, Shane?”
“Yeah, things would have been different if I’d poked a little deeper into the discrimination issue before being hired by the CPD and moving here. I underestimated what it meant to be a quota filler.”
“With your education, grades, and academy performance, why did you pick Chicago, anyway?”
“I thought it’d be a challenge. I wanted to work with the dogs or one of the more active teams and thought if I had experience in a good force, that would simplify things for me.”
“On paper, you’d be right. Chicago does have a reputation for producing good cops.”
“Unfortunately, that reputation is founded on crap politics. Here’s how the CPD actually works. If your dad is a cop, your resume gets bumped up the list to be looked at. If both of your parents are cops, you get kicked to the front of the line. I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason my resume got looked at; it’s simple to check someone’s pedigree, and the first thing they look at here is who you’re related to. If your pedigree is good enough, then they look at your background and species. I had an instant flag as someone who’d been exposed to lycanthropy; it was part of the application. After that, they look at experience, magic rating, and education. I filled two quota boxes, so I got hired. When my stints in Lower Chicago didn’t wash me out, I got shit patrols, usually in the more dangerous parts of town—or places where run-ins with lycanthropes were more likely. And that’s how the story ends.”
“You were on patrol and got called to the traffic accident. Your insurance company and the CPD worked together to screw you out of your career.” Marian inhaled, and when she sighed, she shook her head. “I’m amazed the CDC is actually taking it this far.”
“Unlike the other victims they’ve had as potential trial fodder, I might actually get somewhere.” I tapped my fake eye. “From my understanding, the last guy lost a whole limb. Eyes can be replaced if you have the money.”
“Prosthetics will never be equal to the real thing, especially in a field like law enforcement. We’ve had a few exceptions in the FBI, but the prosthetics cost a lot.”
Larry cleared his throat. “Tell the lady how much that eye of yours will cost.”
Since popping my eye out and tossing it at Ernesto’s vampire spawn child would probably cause a wreck, I settled for a grunt. I couldn’t remember if I’d told Marian the cost of the eye I couldn’t afford. “Two mil.”
“Ernesto could pay it without missing a beat. You should let that vampire actually be useful.”
“Doesn’t work that way, badge babe. The good guys don’t become indebted to the bad guys for a two million dollar eyeball. It would end my career as everyone would question why someone like Ernesto would help someone like me with something like that.”
“There’s nothing illegal about charitable donations to a good cause. Giving a cop an eyeball is a good cause. I bet he could legally write it off his taxes, too, if he established a charity fund to help those injured or crippled in the line of duty.”
“Where did you find this lady, Gibby? Think she’d come work for Papa?”
“FBI agent,” I reminded him.
“But she’s smart and pretty. Papa would love to have her batting for him.”
“No.”
“Gibby, don’t be so cruel. Papa would owe you more than two mil with a broad like her batting for our team.”
“No.”
“You are as Papa says, mean and cruel. What has he ever done to you to deserve such treatment from you?”
“He exists.”
“Evil!”
If I banged my head against the window hard enough, would I render myself unconscious for the remainder of the thirty-minute drive to the underground mall skirting the canal? “I think you’re confused. Vampires are evil. Cops are good. She’s the cop, I’m the ex-cop. You and Ernesto are vampires. What does that make you?”
“Misunderstood.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
&
nbsp; Deep beneath the heart of Chicago, the storm drains emptied into a canal, which cut across most of the city before disappearing into the depths of the third level. Magic darkened the water to hide what lurked beneath the surface, and that same magic hid the smell, something my nose appreciated. I’d been to Lower Chicago once when the magic had failed, and the experience had taught me one very important lesson.
If anyone dredged the canal, they’d find bodies—a lot of bodies. Not a week went by without a body turning up in the Chicago river, and I had no doubt corpses gave the underground water its distinctive stench. I still wasn’t sure who maintained the spells that kept the canal’s smell from driving everyone away, but I appreciated their work.
Most people had no idea what the dark water hid. While I got a card from Larry so he could come and pick us up later, Marian stared at the rippling surface with wide eyes. “Shane, the water’s black.”
Larry grinned and winked at me, flicked a salute, and drove off, leaving me alone with the FBI agent who’d turned my world upside down and made me like it. “Do yourself a favor. Don’t fall in.”
“Why not? It doesn’t look that bad, just weird. Why’s the water black?”
Capturing her wrist in my hand, I pulled her a safe distance from the canal. “Magic. It’s an illusion—a good one. It’s also hiding the smell.”
“Smell? What smell?”
“Do you want the pretty version or the truth?”
“Truth.”
I pointed at the canal. “Corpse stew.”
She blanched. “And no one has pulled them out?”
“Welcome to Chicago. The CPD looks the other way because it would cost more than they’re willing to spend to get the bodies out of there. They only interfere if a witness sees someone dumped in, and even then, they only check the grates for the body. All part of the whole ‘you mind your business, we mind our business’ mentality shared by Upper and Lower Chicago. Anyway, the current is pretty strong, so the CPD assumes if the body doesn’t wash up there, it’s gone.”
“My opinion of Chicago gets worse every time you open your mouth.”
I thought about it and shrugged. “It is what it is. I visited New York, and a corpse fell on the car I was standing next to. A few bodies in the canal doesn’t seem so bad after that.”
“That was gruesome. I was surprised by how nonchalant you were. You didn’t even grimace when you put the car in park. You were blinking rather like an owl, though—a bloody owl.”
“I was more concerned about preventing the vehicle from taking out some pedestrians than getting more blood on me. I’d already gotten splattered, so a little more didn’t matter. Not the first time I’ve seen someone killed because they decided to improvise on their windshield.”
“Is that what happened? I’d thought the windshield had buckled in a bit easy, but I wasn’t sure since the body had fallen so far. I wasn’t really in a position to get a good look.”
“Window glass shatters into large lethal shards, where safety glass, the kind used in cars, either pebbles or sticks together. When the vic hit the windshield, it broke into shards, which is pretty damning evidence someone had put the wrong type of glass in the windshield. You don’t deal with a lot of traffic incidents in the FBI?”
“Not in my division, though I’ll be transferring to violent crimes soon. That’s part of why I’m here; I get paid leave because of the botched operation plus they’re figuring out where I’ll best fit. When I go back, I’ll train for my new division.”
“You’re being pushed out?”
Marian snorted. “No. I volunteered for transfer. I may have done some additional research into lycanthropy and decided I didn’t want to find out if you had inherited a lycanthrope’s base tendency to slaughter threats to people close to them. There’s surprisingly little research on what happens when a shifter bites a lycanthrope.”
“Well, I’m not a lycanthrope.”
“I didn’t know that then.”
“So what does happen when a shifter bites another shifter? I can tell you exactly what happens when a lycanthrope gets someone in their sights.” Sliding my hand along her back, I propelled her towards the underground mall.
Marian’s cheeks turned pink. “I should have asked before biting you.”
“I didn’t ask before I bit you, so I think that makes us even.”
“But I knew what biting does!”
When an opportunity presented itself, a wise man took advantage of it. “And you had a double dose of sex demon. So what? I’m assuming you laid some sort of claim on me, which means I get watch you model white dresses and openly indulge in admiring a woman I find very pretty. Since I’m a lycanthrope’s son, I’m well aware of what happens when a boy lycanthrope meets a girl human and is a pushy bastard until she says yes and is stuck with him until the day they die. Now, if I wanted to be a pushy bastard about it, I’d just tell my mother you were the one who gave me the guns and the permit and let her worry about the details. She’d have us married within a day, and knowing her, she would resort to cruel and unusual methods to accomplish her goals. As I’m a gentleman, I gave you sufficient chances to escape. I’m afraid you failed to escape, so now I’m going to enjoy hunting you.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Grinning, I nudged her in the direction of the nearest mobility store. “Immensely. First, you gave me a pair of guns, then you tricked your way into my apartment. I think I’ll just have to keep you, since you warm my bed and make it more comfortable. Your sales pitch was successful. You’ll just have to deal with it. I’m not sure I bit you hard enough, so I’ll have to do a very thorough investigation of your person later. But first, you’ll have to model white dresses for me. It seems fair, because you’ve seen me in a suit before the completion of the bet.”
“Most of the time you’re shy, but then you make it clear you’re not nearly as dense or oblivious as you appear to be.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m dense, but your hands-on approach makes it pretty clear what I’m supposed to be doing. It doesn’t hurt my parents and the rest of society are very vocal about what I should be doing. You didn’t have to work very hard to convince me, and my only problem with you biting me is how long it’s taking to heal. It’s still sore.”
“Well, it’s my turn to deal with it for a few weeks, so you’ve gotten your revenge. Magic works in mysterious ways.”
“Excellent. I’m pretty sure you owe me an apology for biting. You can apologize the same way you thanked me. I enjoyed that.”
Marian laughed and elbowed me in the ribs. “You don’t need to catch up for lost time.”
“What sort of nonsense is that? Of course I need to catch up for lost time. Right now, however, I need to buy a phone and get you to model some dresses for me. Once I’m certain I’ve run the cab bill to horrific levels, we’ll go rescue my parents, and since I’m a considerate gentleman, I won’t tell them your biting has more significance than rough foreplay.”
“You sneaky, manipulative bastard.”
I laughed.
The easiest way to get rid of unwanted tracked cell phones was to toss them into the canal, which I did with a certain amount of glee. Marian watched me, her arms crossed over her chest. “Is there any reason you didn’t toss them before we hiked to other side the mall and back?”
“More time on Larry’s meter.”
“Do you like or hate Ernesto? I’m really not sure.”
“Neither is he, and it drives him insane.” Smirking, I linked my arm with hers and pulled her back towards the mall. “I believe it’s time to find a clothing store. You don’t have to model wedding dresses. The dresses just have to be white. I can also live with skirts, if you find a white one you like. But I think showing off your legs should be mandatory.”
“I should be complaining, you know.”
“You’ve pinched my ass at least five times since we arrived at the mall.”
“It’s not my fault it’s so
tempting and those pants fit you so well. It’s begging to be touched.”
“So we’re even. You can keep stealing pinches as long as I can openly admire your legs. We’re sexist pigs in equal proportions. It works out for everyone. You can even upgrade from pinching to gentle caresses if you like.”
“How about a solid slap?”
“Two-way street. If you slap, I slap. If we start slapping, I might have to leave my parents with Ernesto and take you home.” I paused. “I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”
“We should rescue your parents.”
“I suppose we should, shouldn’t we? I’ll be happy if you try on one white dress before our daring rescue of my parents from a vampire’s clutches.”
“And what if I want to try on a black dress?”
“You can try on as many dresses as you like. I’m a patient man. All I ask is that I get to see you in them.”
“You just want to see what I look like in a dress so you know how much effort to put into winning the bet.”
“Either way, I win the bet. If you can’t keep your hands off me when I’m wearing a suit, I win. Since I have no doubt you’re gorgeous in a dress, I win. No matter the outcome, I’m a winner.”
Marian stared at me, her mouth ajar and her eyes wide. “I’m pretty sure that’s cheating.”
“How is it cheating?”
“I’m supposed to enjoy you wearing suits.”
“You do, don’t you? Just because you can’t keep your hands off me when I’m wearing one doesn’t invalidate the bet. If my goal is to have you eager to come home with me, then it works in my favor to dress appropriately.”
“I see. You’re willing to make sacrifices for sex.”
“You only have yourself to blame for this one. I have a sample size of one.” I gestured to the mall. “Pick your poison.”
