by M. D. Massey
“No—Bells, that doesn’t matter to me. At all. You’ve stood by me through some of the toughest times of my life. Hell, you’ve practically sacrificed your career for me. So, no—I don’t want to know.”
Silence. Then, “Two.”
I sat up in bed, pulling a sheet over me. Shrinkage, and all that. “Huh? Did you say, ‘two’?”
She looked slightly hurt at my response, and pressed her lips together as she nodded her reply.
“So. Crowley and—me?”
She nodded again.
“But I thought—you always—you mean that’s all just an act?”
She nodded again.
“But—why?”
It was dark, but I could see her eyes were tearing up so I grabbed her hand. “After I slept with Crowley, he boasted about it at work. Word got around, and pretty soon people started to talk. Saying I was easy, saying I was fast—the usual crap. I work in a male-dominated career field, so you can imagine how bad it soon got.”
I took a sharp intake of breath. “Shit. That’s why you and Crowley split up.”
“Yup. Anyway, after a while I decided, ‘Fuck it, I am going to own this shit.’ So I did. And you know what?”
“Um, you look hella sexy in tight leather pants?”
She giggled and wiped an eye. “Well, that—but I also found out that sexually aggressive women intimidate a lot of guys. Most guys, in fact. Oh, you all talk a good game, but when it comes down to it you are scared to death of pussy. Pardon my French.”
I raised my hand. “Guilty.”
“Don’t I know it. And when I found out it backfired on me with the one guy I really liked, I was all, ‘Ha ha, the joke’s on you, Belladonna.’”
I screwed my face up into a lopsided grin and pulled her close. She resisted at first, but only for a moment. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be such an ass just now.”
“Meh, what were you supposed to think? I play this shit to the hilt.”
I kissed her on top of the head. Her hair smelled like vanilla and lilac. “Bells, you said you intimidate most guys. So what do you do when a guy likes the bold, brassy you?”
“Duh. I shoot them down.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
She pulled away slightly and looked me in the eye. Her eyes narrowed. “Then I kick them in the junk. Hard.”
I laughed and tweaked her nose. “Did you know you’re sexy when you talk tough?”
“Yup. Did you know your eyes cross slightly when you—”
I cut her off with a kiss, and after that we didn’t talk much at all.
The second round was better than the first, and after Bells snuck out to the bathroom I grabbed a towel and headed to the outdoor shower. It was going to be cold as hell, but I was used to it.
I was lathering up my hair and had shampoo in my eyes when I heard the old man’s voice.
“So, you finally nutted up and gave that girl what she’s been wanting for—oh, the last eighteen months or so. Good for you.”
I rinsed the soap from my eyes and looked over the scrap of corrugated metal roof that currently served as my shower door. “I certainly hope you weren’t listening in, Finn.”
He scowled. “Not on purpose, no—but by Nuada’s fiery sword, that girl can scream.” He fixed me with a sly grin and a wink. “Like I said, good for you.”
I groaned. “Can we not talk about my sex life—at all? There are certain things I’d like to keep private, and that’s definitely one of them. Besides, a gentleman never kisses and tells.”
His face grew serious. “So, you really like this one, eh? I’d have thought that the glaistig had it wrapped up, but I suppose it’s no surprise you fell into the sheets with that hunter. What, with her giving you the full court press and all.”
“This is me not talking about my sex life with you, old man,” I said as I toweled off inside the shower.
He continued without missing a beat. “I wonder what that troll maiden is going to think. She did musk-mark you as her own.” He stroked his beard and knuckled his chin. “Although, I wouldn’t mind watching that wildcat girlfriend of yours in a tussle with a female troll. Now that’s a cat fight I’d pay to see.”
“You’re incorrigible, you know that? Also, that’s gross.”
“Let’s see you live for two thousand years, and not pick up a few exotic tastes.” He rolled a cigarette as he spoke, licking it and sealing the paper between sentences. “Now, tell me where things sit with this necromancer problem you’ve been dealing with.”
I silently thanked everything that was good and holy that he’d changed the subject, and filled him in on our progress.
“Hmm, a crooked cop you say? And a detective? I don’t get it—cops turn crooked for wealth and power, but I fail to see how this detective could possibly profit from loosing ghouls on the city.”
I wrapped the towel around my waist and stepped out of the shower. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s setting himself up to be the hero, by solving the murders and pinning it on someone else. For a homicide detective, cracking a serial murder case could mean a promotion—or a book deal. Heck, maybe even a move up to the big leagues, working at the federal level.”
Finn puffed his cigarette and shook his head vigorously. “Nope, I don’t buy it. There’s something else at play here, something we’re not seeing. Watch yourself.”
“I always do.”
“The hell you say.”
Bells walked around the corner of the warehouse at that moment, saving me from having to deflect Finn’s apprehensions. In my eyes, he still hadn’t earned the right to be concerned about my well-being, and it made me uncomfortable when he expressed such feelings.
Was it petty of me? Sure, but I had good reason.
“Ah, here you are. And the old pervert too. Did you get a good listen, grandpa?”
Finn nodded and somehow blew smoke from his ears—I laughed in spite of myself. “Did I? I believe the screams I heard filled the old spank-bank for a good long while.”
“And then you had to go and ruin the moment. Thanks, Finn,” I said.
“Don’t mention it. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone now.” He paused as he passed Belladonna, resting a hand lightly on her arm. “Keep an eye on him for me—he doesn’t know how much danger he’s in right now.”
He turned to me then, his eyes hard and glimmering in the pale light reflected from the yard lights overhead. “And you do the same for her, boy. She’s a keeper.”
As he walked away, my forehead crinkled and I exhaled long and slow.
“I swear, you never know what to expect from him. Sorry about that.”
“Oh, I can handle a little locker room talk, believe me. Besides, I think it’s kind of cute how he worries about you.” She tsked as she closed the gap between us. “You’re too hard on him, you know.”
“Maybe.” Time to change the subject. “Now, what are we going to do about Erskine?”
She leaned in and placed a hand on my bare chest, snuggling close to me. I liked it. “Well, I think we need to take him out, and make it look like a murder. Maybe a break-in gone wrong or something.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Evidence is hard to fake.”
“Meh, our clean-up team can handle it. They’re very good at what they do.”
“I still have my reservations about this. What if we have the wrong guy? Or, what if he’s too powerful for us to handle on our own?”
She stepped back slightly, allowing her hand to linger on my skin before dropping it to her side. “I get that you’re not absolutely sure about killing the guy. But look at the evidence. He was at two of the ghoul murder scenes: the one at the park, and the one behind the club. You also found evidence that links him to the abandoned house, and you found a spell book at his warehouse—where we were jumped by two dozen ghouls. What further evidence do you need?”
I sighed. “I suppose you’re right. And I don’t want anyone else to die. If we’re going to do this we n
eed to get to him ASAP, take him out, and destroy his focus. That should deanimate any of the ghouls he’s created, and allow us to put this case to bed for good.”
She growled pleasantly. “And then maybe we can spend a little more time in bed ourselves—at my place, where I have indoor plumbing.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic.
We hid in the dark outside Detective Erskine’s home, waiting for him to show. The plan was simple. First I’d release a magical signature cantrip to make sure he was our necromancer. Once we were absolutely certain he was our guy we’d take him out, and then let the Circle’s clean-up crew handle it from there.
And if he didn’t show we’d break in anyway, to look for evidence that would implicate him in the murders. Later we’d point the cops to that evidence before we made him “disappear,” so it would look like he got nervous and skipped town. No good cop ever avenged a dirty cop’s death, and no one would keep a missing persons case open on a serial killer.
We waited in the tree line behind Erskine’s house, which was a lot more swank than I’d expected based on the location. His backyard was nicely landscaped, with a pool, a built-in hot tub, and an outdoor kitchen and living area complete with a large screen TV viewable from anywhere that mattered.
No doubt about it: Erskine had nice things. Things that were a heck of a lot nicer than someone living on a cop’s salary should have been able to afford. I figured he must’ve paid cash for everything, and paid the contractors who’d done the work under the table. Texas was rife with undocumented workers who were more than willing to take cash and tell no one. How he’d gotten around the city inspectors was anyone’s guess, but a little cash payment on the buddy system could have easily kept him out of hot water there as well. Unless he planned to offload the house at some point, any unpermitted work wouldn’t be an issue.
Just looking around the place got me pissed. This guy was profiting from the misery of others, killing people to get what he wanted. After a half-hour of watching his house, I wanted to throttle him.
“This is getting us nowhere,” Bells whispered under her breath, rubbing her arms to fight off the cold. “I say we head inside and see what we can find.”
“Alright, but be careful. For all we know he could be asleep inside.”
“Naw, his patrol car’s gone. He’s either working, handling some illicit deal, or he’s making more ghouls.”
“Your optimism just fills me with confidence, Belladonna.”
She winked. “It’s what I’m here for—to boost your flagging confidence. Someone has to do it.”
I wondered whether she was joking or serious. Was I that pathetic? I’d just slept with the girl and already I was second-guessing myself. I resolved to stop over-thinking things, to just enjoy whatever burgeoning romance Bells and I might have.
Right, good luck with that.
I followed her as she snuck along the fence line to the back door. All was quiet, both inside Erskine’s place and at his neighbors’ homes to either side. Lucky for us, he lived in an older area where the homes weren’t right on top of each other.
I gave the door the magical once over and signaled it was safe. Bells knelt down and pulled out a set of lock picks. They were unnecessary, since I could’ve used a cantrip to open the lock. But any use of magic might tip him off if he was home, so I let her do things the old-fashioned way. Just as she began to insert a pick into the lock, the door swung inward slightly.
She looked up at me with concern on her face, and pointed at the door jamb. I leaned in and saw that it had been forced open. The door frame was splintered and the striker plate was missing. It surprised me that a cop wouldn’t feel the need to install longer screws on his striker plates—or for that matter a security system—but then again maybe he felt like he didn’t need it. Wouldn’t have been the first cop I’d known to get burglarized.
I pulled my short sword from my bag, and Belladonna drew a blued-steel automatic pistol from the small of her back, to which she attached a noise suppressor. Damn, this girl is hot. I got my mind back on task, and listened for the slightest indication of movement from within the house as she pushed open the door.
We ghosted through the place, clearing it room by room as we went. We found lots more nice stuff, including a lot of electronics and kitchen appliances that were high end and most definitely stolen. But besides that, not much else. Despite the back door being busted open, nothing in the house was disturbed. Then, I caught a whiff of something coming from a door near the kitchen.
Blood.
I tapped Belladonna on the shoulder and motioned for her to follow. The iron-rich smell got stronger as we approached the door. I opened it using the tail of my shirt to avoid leaving prints. The door swung open into darkness. The scents of fresh blood, paint, gas, and motor oil wafted from within. I reached inside the door for a light switch and flipped it on.
There, in the middle of the garage floor, next to a very nicely restored early-seventies Corvette, was Detective Erskine. He was lying on his back, spread eagle in the middle of a necromantic circle that had been painted with his own blood. His eyes were missing, and possibly several of his internal organs as well. The markings on the walls and floor matched those at the abandoned house near the cemetery, as well as the spell book we’d found at the warehouse.
Which I currently still had in my possession.
“Son of a bitch,” I said.
“I second that assertion,” Belladonna stated matter of factly.
That’s when we heard the sirens. We beat feet to the back door, where we could already see flashlight beams dancing across the yard and entrance.
“Shit! We are so fucked right now, Colin.”
I had to think fast, because if I didn’t we were both going to end up in jail. My ability to cast stealth spells was more or less limited to myself and one other person, but only if I was wearing an item of clothing that I’d previously spelled with runes. That meant one of us was going to get caught. I made a snap decision and cast the see-me-not spell on Bells.
“Colin, what are you doing?”
I grabbed her by the shoulders. “Look, if you get caught with all that hardware you carry we’re both screwed. You’ve got about five minutes before that spell wears off. Stay hidden, and just as soon as those cops come through that door, you haul ass out the back and over the fence. Go!”
I shoved her gently toward the back door and ran to the front, heading for one of the bedrooms that faced the side of the house away from the driveway. I stopped long enough to pull the spell book out of my pocket and drop it inside my Craneskin Bag, where no one would ever find it but me. I opened a window, removed the screen, and slipped out, sneaking my way to the street without being seen. Reaching the sidewalk, I pulled Borovitz’s card out of my wallet and tore it in two, then shoved it into my front pocket. I began walking at a normal pace up the street and away from Erskine’s place, hoping like hell that Belladonna hadn’t been caught.
I knew I’d be arrested within minutes. That would focus the cops’ attentions on me and away from the house, allowing Bells a window for her to escape. Within seconds, a patrol car spotted me. Shortly thereafter, I was cuffed and in the back of a squad car.
My mom was going to be so pissed when she found out I’d gotten arrested in connection to a murder.
Chapter Fifteen
I was in an interrogation room at central booking, my hands cuffed to a metal table in front of me. A female detective with a short haircut and a serious expression sat across from me. She was in her early thirties, petite but not necessarily athletic-looking, and wore a tan long-sleeved shirt tucked into a pair of broken-in Levi’s, scuffed black tactical boots, and a thick leather belt that secured a Crossbreed supertuck holster, currently empty.
She was not a happy camper at the moment.
“You know, if you don’t cooperate you’re only going to make it harder on yourself. We have you at the scene, we found your footprints and those of your ac
complice behind the house, and I’m sure we’ll find your prints inside the house as well. Why don’t you just fess up, and maybe I can convince the judge to lighten your sentence? I’m sure the DA will be willing to talk a deal, once you start telling us what happened.”
“I’ll be happy to cooperate, just as soon as I speak with my attorney.”
Detective Klein leaned back in her chair and inhaled through her nose, letting it out again slowly. “Look, Colin, your record is squeaky clean, except for that incident a few years back with your girlfriend.”
I tried to keep my face neutral, but I must’ve let something slip. She smiled like a wolf on its way to grandma’s house.
“Oh, you think I didn’t know about that?”
She opened up a file folder, flipping through it and then slamming it down in front of me. She arranged several photos on the table, laying them out carefully, one by one.
“Take a look. This is what was left of your girlfriend’s body, after that ‘bear’ was done with her. Now, I’m no expert on animal attacks, but this sure in hell doesn’t look like it was done by a bear. And as far as I know, the last time a bear was seen in those parts was decades ago.”
I didn’t need to look at the photos; I’d seen it all firsthand.
For a brief moment I wanted to strangle her. Then I reminded myself that she was just doing her job. And if I were her, I’d think the strangely calm college-aged kid sitting in front of her had murdered Erskine, too.
I kept my eyes fixed on hers, and replied through gritted teeth. “Attorney. Lawyer. Phone call.”
At that moment, Borovitz burst into the room in a flurry of motion. “Say nothing more, Colin. Detective, you have nothing to hold my client on other than circumstantial evidence. If you’re not going to charge him with a crime, then we’ll be leaving immediately.”
All expression dropped from Klein’s square, rugged face like a guillotine, and her voice showed no emotion as she responded.
“I don’t think so. I get to hold your client for twenty-four hours, which is plenty of time to get the DA to file charges in the murder of Sergeant Erskine. But hey, I’ll be happy to leave you two alone to figure out your story while I get the DA out of bed.”
