Deathly Temperance: A Piper & Payne Supernatural Thriller (Netherworld Paranormal Police Department Book 3)

by John P. Logsdon

  “Damn.”

  Chapter 16

  Reaper entered in the code precisely as given and the window opened. We glanced at each other with wide eyes.

  Who knew?

  “Hello?” Pecker said, breaking our mesmerized silence. “Did it work?”

  “It worked,” Reaper replied. “Give Agnes a hug for me, please.”

  I’d heard of choking-the-chicken, tugging-the-turkey, and smacking-the-snake, but hugging-the-turtle was a new one. The phrase didn’t even use alliteration. Still, something told me that people would probably start using that phrase on a Facebook group or something. You know how odd people can be.

  Without further delay, we jumped through the portal, ready for anything.

  There was no tingling sensation like when we used our portals, and the world didn’t fade out and then back in again. If anything, it felt as though we’d just hopped over a patch of grass.

  But it did sound different.

  “Do you hear that?” I whispered.

  “I don’t hear anything,” Reaper replied.

  “Exactly.”

  He nodded in understanding.

  This place was dead silent. There were no crickets or frogs or even rustling leaves. In fact, there wasn’t even a breeze.

  “We’re in a dimensional box,” I said.

  These were little pieces of space that were held together via magic. They didn’t technically exist, and the moment the magic died, so did everyone inside the box. Not a fun idea.

  “Yes,” Reaper agreed. “That means we can be tracked by whoever created it.”

  I felt my blood run cold at the thought.

  “Assuming someone is bothering to look,” I said, trying to calm myself down. “I would be constantly looking if this were my place, but I’m paranoid like that. People who build things like this are typically too arrogant to worry about them being broken into.”

  I started walking forward, heading toward an area that had lights all around it.

  “Besides,” I continued as we moved off the beaten path, just in case the guards headed back this way, “even if they do recognize two additional bodies, it wouldn’t mean they’d know it was us.”

  “No, but they could determine that we aren’t fae.”

  “Possibly,” I said with a shrug, “but I don’t think it’s likely. And it’s irrelevant at this point anyway. We’re here and we’ve got a job to do.” I then flipped over to the connector. “Can you hear me okay?”

  There was no response.

  “Well, that’s a problem,” I rasped.

  “What?”

  “Connectors aren’t working in here.”

  Reaper looked down for a moment. Then he squatted. And then really squatted, almost to the point where it looked like he was trying to determine the color of his asshole.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked.

  “I tried to reach you first,” he said. “It didn’t work. So then I got myself into a tighter shape, making for a boosted signal.”

  “That works?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Well, at least with the connector I’m outfitted with, which is admittedly different than yours.”

  “Ah.”

  “Well, I then attempted to reach a tower, but that failed, too. Finally, I worked my way into a very tight ball and tried to reach Pecker.”

  “That’s what it looked like you were doing, Reap,” I said, trying to contain my laughter. “You could break your neck going there, if you’re not careful.”

  He tilted his head at me.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Never mind. We’ll just have to keep our voices low.” I motioned him to follow me. “We need to get moving, and be ready with your stun stuff.”

  “Hopefully my other devices work,” he said. “I can’t track bodies, that’s for certain.”

  That gave me pause, but I had no idea how he planned to test his other abilities out, and I really didn’t want to see him attempt to pleasure himself again. Yes, I knew he wasn’t actually doing that, but goddamn.

  We reached the edge of the trees and found a set of small huts. They weren’t fancy, which was surprising. For fae to use such a utilitarian place as this was odd.

  That’s when I caught sight of a man who was unmistakable. It was the same mage who I’d witnessed kill my parents those many years ago. It was that same fucking face that had entered my room and gave me a death smile before his magical energy failed to take me out.

  It was the man I would give almost anything to kill.

  “Keller,” I whispered, almost breathless, as I pulled my gun up to aim it at him. “It’s Keller.”

  Reaper grabbed my wrist and pushed it down.

  “You’re right,” he said, “but if you miss or if he’s shielded or if that’s just a projection…we’ll be found out and killed before you’ve had a chance to exact your revenge.”

  I hated it when he was right, and he seemed to be right a lot.

  Keller was standing with a fae who looked familiar to me as well. She’d been on the news many times, in fact. Her name was Temperance, and she was the leader of the fae council.

  Though she was likely hundreds of years old, you’d never know it from looking at her. If anything, she looked like she couldn’t be more than twenty-five. Everything about her was perky: cheeks, shoulders, breasts, and ass. All of it firm and taut.

  Bitch.

  But what was she doing talking with Keller?

  I knew the moment I asked myself that question how stupid it sounded. Obviously, she was working with him to cause unrest in the city. The real question was why would she risk collaborating with him? Special treatment was the only promise he could make, assuming that he planned to take over the Netherworld. And seeing that he was an evil piece of power-hungry shit, that was clearly the plan.

  “We need to get closer to them,” I said, looking around for a way through. “We have to hear what they’re saying.”

  “How do you propose we do that?”

  “I don’t know, but…” I trailed off as the image of Keller faded away. So he had just been a projection. “So much for that.”

  “She’s coming this way,” Reaper said, pulling me back from the edge of the trees.

  Temperance stopped beside another tent as a young man stepped out. He was grinning from ear to ear, and he had specks of blood on his white coat. Whatever he was up to couldn’t have been pleasant.

  “I hope you’re not doing too much damage, Mr. Cleary,” Temperance warned in that same voice that made male news reporters weak in the knees. “We may need those two as bargaining chips at some point.”

  “No, ma’am,” Mr. Cleary replied. “They’re not happy, but they’re alive.”

  “Good.” She flicked her wrist at one of the other tents. “There is a wizard in that one. I don’t care about his life, so you may feel free to extract any information you can from him until he breathes his last.”

  Mr. Cleary looked like a man who had just won the lottery.

  “Do try to keep his screams under control, Mr. Cleary,” Temperance stated. “While I’m sure you rather enjoy your work, there are fae among us who do not have your iron constitution for such matters.”

  With that, Temperance turned away and sauntered back to the main tent. Mr. Cleary rushed into the hut he’d been occupying and then zoomed back out, carrying a box of what I assumed were instruments of torture.

  “He’s going to kill Mr. Methkins,” Reaper said in a voice so cold that I shivered. “I cannot allow that.”

  “I know,” I agreed, fighting to keep him as steady as he did with me when I wanted to fire a Death Nail at Keller. “But he’s going to prolong it, Reap. Just killing Meth isn’t going to make him happy enough. Let’s get Brazen and Kix out of there, you heal them up as best you can, and then we’ll go after Meth.”

  Reaper’s glare on the tent that Mr. Cleary had just entered was deadly.

  Something told me if the fae was holdin
g pliers when we finally got in there, Reaper was going to shove them up the guy’s ass.

  Chapter 17

  Brazen and Kix looked pretty rough when we got into the hut. They were scarred and bloody, and there were multiple bruises on their faces. If I were being honest, I’d say it improved Brazen’s looks somewhat.

  Reaper and I set about unfastening their bindings.

  They both slid from their chairs and onto the floor, groaning.

  “Do what you can, Reap,” I said, hoping that his particular skills would be effective in this place. “I’ll look around for potions or whatever I can find.”

  I caught sight of his hands glowing lightly, which signaled that he wasn’t powerless here. Whether he had the same level of power as he did outside of this place was anyone’s guess, though.

  Keller would have the answer to that, but there wasn’t time to dwell on that asshole at the moment. I needed to focus on hunting for something we could use.

  Potions.

  Keys.

  Weapons.

  Whatever the hell I could get my hands on to get us through this and back out of here. The place we were in was so bad that I wanted to get back to Faeland. To be fair, Faeland was gorgeous, and if there weren’t such strict rules about who was allowed to walk the area, I’d be the first person to book a spa day there.

  A small desk sat near the back wall. It had a hutch on top that was filled with tiny drawers. It brought back a memory from my childhood. My father had a desk just like this. He kept screws, nails, wires, and various other gadgets and tidbits in it.

  I shook myself and got back to searching.

  Most of the drawers contained nothing, or little slips of paper with some type of odd writing on them. Even though I couldn’t read the scribble, I realized it was magical, so I pocketed them. One of our wizards might be able to decipher what they were.

  That, along with a shriek from the hut next door, made me think of Methkins.

  Reaper glanced over at me.

  “I know, I know,” I said. “Keep working. The faster we’re out of here, the faster we can get Meth.”

  I realized that sounded wrong, but I knew what I meant.

  After stashing a good fifteen slips of paper, I finally hit pay dirt. The next few drawers contained vials, and they all had readable text on them.

  Healing.

  Rupture.

  Blinding.

  Energy.

  Crippling.

  It was abundantly clear that Mr. Cleary enjoyed his job. Bringing a person to the edge of death and then giving them healing and energy just so he could repeat the process was seriously fucked up. Worse, using potions to rupture tendons, blind people, and cripple them was warped. But that’s what you got with psychopathic sadists. Fortunately for us, there were a lot of healing and energy potions.

  I handed one over to Reaper and he looked relieved.

  But just as he was about to use it on Kix, he stopped and stared up at me.

  “What if these names don’t really represent what these do?” he asked.

  “You’re right,” I said thoughtfully as I let out a slow breath. “Use it on Brazen first.”

  “What?”

  I’d been joking, but Brazen reached out and took the vial from Reaper’s hand. He was shaking and barely able to function. Still, he opened the vial and drained it.

  He collapsed.

  But soon his coloring was coming back.

  His eyes snapped open and he choked out, “I guess it was a healing potion.”

  I handed another one to Reaper to give to Kix.

  “But if you didn’t know it was healing, why…” I stopped and gave him an appraising look.

  Every time I jumped to the default reaction of just thinking that Brazen was a douche, he did something to surprise me. He’d taken the elixir because he was protecting his partner. Kix had been too out of it to protest or accept the vial, but Brazen had just enough mental acuity to make the decision to go for it or not.

  I gave him an impressed nod.

  Then I handed him an energy vial.

  “Don’t drink it all,” I warned. “It’ll blow your socks off. Just take a sip.”

  By now, Kix was rousing and looking decent. Both of their bruises were fading, too.

  “Give him some of the energy,” I said to Reaper. “I’ve got enough of these to last us a couple of weeks, but there are more left.” My mind went naughty. “Let’s fuck with the labels.”

  Brazen was up now, helping me to switch up the bottles. If any of the bad fae went for any of the healing potions, they’d be suffering something fierce. I couldn’t help but grin a bit.

  Yeah, I knew I had an evil streak when it came to dealing with bad guys.

  But…well…fuck them.

  “Couldn’t that cause a problem if another torture victim is given one of those potions?” asked Reaper.

  “Not if we kill the torturer,” answered Kix.

  “There are bound to be others,” Reaper stated.

  “Highly doubtful,” I replied, “but we’ll ask when we get to him. They don’t like to share. But, hey, if there is another one, then we’ll come back here and destroy all of this.”

  Reaper nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t happy with this plan.

  Satisfied that everything was set, I peeked out of the hut and waved everyone to follow me. We slipped back to the trees, jumping as one when an earsplitting scream sounded from the tent where Methkins was housed. The scream was followed by a sinister laugh.

  Mr. Cleary was in serious need of dying.

  The look on Reaper’s face told me that he agreed with that sentiment.

  “Who’s in there?” Kix croaked, his throat clearly still dry. “Anyone we know?”

  “Timothy Methkins,” answered Reaper, keeping his eyes on that tent.

  “Meth?” asked Brazen. “What the hell is he doing here? The guy’s useless.”

  Reaper took exception to that comment, spinning on Brazen hotly.

  “Were it not for him, we would never have found you.”

  Brazen held up his hands. “Okay, okay. Sorry I said anything.”

  “It was pure luck, actually,” I pointed out, pushing Reaper back before I explained everything that had happened. A couple minutes later, I said, “So, in a roundabout way, Reap’s right. Meth did make it possible for us to find you two, but it was more due to his stupidity than anything else.”

  Reaper shot me a look that included a sneer.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Reap,” I said, giving him my best duck face. “You know I’m right. Meth’s a shitty stoner who fucked up just enough to help us out. We are going to save him, but don’t defend that moron just because you feel we screwed up.”

  “The man is an innocent,” Reaper hissed in response.

  “Fair enough,” I acquiesced, “but he’s still an idiot.” Before Reaper could argue, I turned to my other officers and asked, “Now, who wants to kill a fae torture expert?”

  I didn’t even bother to wait for their hands to go up.

  Chapter 18

  The scream that radiated from the tent where Methkins was being tortured sent a chill up my spine. I couldn’t stand that little prick, but I was feeling really sorry for him right about now.

  “I’m getting him out of there,” growled Reaper.

  He started to walk toward the edge of the forest, when I saw Temperance heading our way. Brazen clearly saw her, too, because he helped me grab Reaper and pull him back.

  We all got down and waited to see what she was going to do.

  She walked straight toward us, cut a bit to her right, and then headed down the path that led to the obelisk on this side of reality. That she didn’t spot us was a testament to how self-involved she was. Well, that and the fact that we were doing our damndest to remain perfectly still.

  “Wait here,” I commanded to the three of them.

  I followed her just far enough to allow me to spot the obelisk. Then, I waited. I
f she was going through, we’d make our move to rescue Methkins and teach Cleary a lesson he’d not soon forget. But I wanted to be sure that she was gone before we did anything.

  A blink later and she was gone.

  When I got back, the other three were up and ready to move.

  “I’m taking Reap with me to break out Methkins,” I said, setting our strategy. “You two go back to the tent you were having your fun in and build a nice bottle of fun for Mr. Cleary. Make sure you only use ones that already say ‘healing’ on them, since we messed them about earlier.”

  My two officers had grins of vengeance on their faces. I couldn’t blame them. Cleary had it coming.

  “Move,” I stated.

  Brazen and Kix scurried off, straight ahead of our position. Reaper and I took off to the left and burst through the tent.

  The visual was not something I wanted to see.

  Methkins was seriously fucked up. He had cuts, bruises, teeth missing, and there was blood everywhere. The moment we walked in, Cleary was dropping a hammer on the little wizard’s index finger, crushing it. Methkins’ agonizing cry was enough to make me want to kill Cleary.

  But Reaper got there first.

  With a level of anger I’d never seen from my partner, or anyone for that matter, Reaper grabbed Cleary by the throat and picked him straight off the ground.

  I don’t know if this was some kind of reaper-level strength, or if he was just channeling enough rage to win a head-butting contest with a charging rhino, but holy fuck.

  Cleary’s feet were dangling as he fought to break Reaper’s kung-fu grip away from his neck.

  I couldn’t see that happening.

  “Remember that we need him in order to get out of here, Reap,” I coaxed my partner as I fumbled for a bottle of healing potion. “Do what you want to him, but don’t kill him.”

  I poured the elixir down Methkins’ throat and his eyes slowly opened.

  He was still whimpering, though.

  Dipshit or not, the guy was messed up really bad. I pushed the hair out of his eyes and gave him more elixir, along with a bit of energy.