Or at least I did.
Because I’m getting out of the assassination racket. In fact, I can’t work assassinating even if I wanted to. I’m short-term recognizable. I’ve been interviewed by all the major networks, asking me why Raj came after me and Margarite. (I don’t know! I claimed in my best damsel in distress voice.)
Then I got an idea.
The western writer called her agent because she wants to write the true crime version of what happened.
I can’t write the true crime version because it would be too true and too unbelievable.
But I can write the fictionalized version.
If I play this right, I can become the new Margarite Lawson. I know of enough mysterious and unsolved crime scenes (not all of them my own) to keep me in novels for decades. I don’t have to go around magicking graduate assistants into forced homicides.
So even with the damaged breastbone and the broken wrist, I’m pecking away at the keyboard. I’m going to learn as much as possible these remaining three weeks.
And then I’m taking the publishing world by storm.
HEART OF ASH
Jim C. Hines
Lena Greenwood poked the vampire with the broken remains of her white ash staff. “She’s dead. Deader, I guess. Help me drag the body upstairs. Come sunrise, she should be nothing but a smear on the library roof.”
Janice didn’t move. “She’s been so strange ever since Thanksgiving break. I thought she was sick. Like mono or something.” She stared at the creature who had been her roommate, then turned to Lena. “You’re hurt!”
Lena grimaced and checked her side. “I’ll be fine so long as I don’t inhale too deeply. A night in my tree and those ribs will be good as new.”
Janice clenched her hands together, clearly trying to stop them from trembling. “I thought dryads were supposed to be flighty and weak. You know, the sex fantasies of Greek mythology.”
Lena smiled and ran her fingers through Janice’s short hair. “I’m a nymph. I’m whatever you want me to be.”
Nine years later, Lena twirled a wooden baseball bat in one hand as she strode through Red Rock Park in Tucson. The night air was dry and hot, though for Arizona in May, this was positively mild. Swing set chains clinked in the distance. The park was empty save for a single group gathered at a picnic table.
Three months she had been tracking them. Three months, and eight victims left scattered through the city, brains rotted to mush. She was getting slow.
She smiled as they noticed her. Most were no more human than she was, but they were still men. Their stares warmed her skin, taking in the heavy boots and tight jeans, moving up to the “Plays well with others” T-shirt and the blood-red leather jacket Janice had bought her last year, the one with Animal from The Muppet Show on the back. Wisps of brown hair teased the smooth skin of her face.
Seven men, only two of them mortals. A pair of jaguars circled the picnic table, one black and the other spotted like a leopard. Neither one leashed or restrained in any way.
Lena reached into her jacket and pulled out a baggie of what looked like ash. She tossed it onto the table. “Humans will do a lot for pleasure. Gods know I’ve seen almost everything. Heck, I’ve participated in most of it. But snorting powdered zombie brains? Really?”
The two humans took off running. Lena ignored them. She wanted the dealers.
They were younger than she had expected. None looked old enough to drive, though they were bulkier than most teens. Their movement was graceful, almost fluid as they spread out to surround her.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” asked one with short-cut hair and a valiant attempt at a moustache. Dressed in jeans and sleeveless flannel rather than the more pretentious threads she usually saw from drug dealers, he could have passed for a migrant worker. His teeth gleamed white in the moonlight.
Lena tapped her bat against one boot, keeping most of her attention on the jaguars. Switching to Spanish, she said, “You’re outmatched, boys. I’ve killed far worse than a pack of prepubescent weres. Tell me how you’re bringing this stuff over the border, and I’ll let you live.”
“Maybe if you ask us nicely,” said another, earning laughter from several of his friends.
The first cuffed him into silence. “You think your little stick is going to protect you, bitch?”
Lena smiled. Faster than any human could act, she reached into her jacket and pulled out a Ruger Red-hawk revolver. Silver-plated bullets punched through the skulls of both jaguars before the others could react.
They had guts, Lena would give them that much. Three charged, bodies shifting into their jaguar forms even as she fired. She dropped two more, then struck the third with her bat. In her hands, the wood was hard as steel. The jaguar whimpered and drew back, holding his broken foreleg close to his chest.
By now the remaining two had drawn guns of their own. Lena jumped aside as the leader fired. The bullet grazed her ribs. She rolled and leaped again. Another bullet hit the ground beside her, spitting dust into the air. Before she could recover, the wounded jaguar crashed onto her back.
Claws dug into her shoulders. She slammed her head back, striking the great cat in the nose. Butcher shop breath puffed against her neck as his teeth caught her hair and skin.
Lena ripped free and rolled onto her back, grabbing the jaguar’s broken leg in one hand and squeezing. Now it was the cat’s turn to try to break free. Lena used his movement to pull herself upright, then grabbed the back of his neck. The jaguar had to weigh a hundred and fifty pounds. Lena grunted as she hurled him through the air.
What was wrong with her? She should have been stronger than this.
“Drop the stick.” The remaining two had spread out, guns leveled at Lena’s chest. Even at her best, she wasn’t fast enough to escape, and this was far from her best. She had once thrown a vampire through a church wall, but tonight she could barely hold her own against children?
She tossed the bat to the ground.
“Who else knows you’re here?” asked the leader.
Lena relaxed, opening herself up until she could hear the man’s heart pounding in his chest. Her own pulse sped to match his. She could smell the musk of his sweat, dripping down his neck and back. His body was still human, and it responded to Lena’s call. He shifted uncomfortably as his lust built.
“Nobody.” She stretched her arms overhead, wincing as pain tore down her back. Nine years ago their claws would have found her flesh as solid as aged hardwood. Sweat and blood made her shirt cling to her body. Just the sort of macabre wet T-shirt show a creature like this should appreciate. “It’s just you and me.”
He stepped closer, but wasn’t foolish enough to lower his gun. Sirens screamed in the distance. He stooped to pick up the bat. “What are you?”
“What would you like me to be?” She glanced at the bat. “Pointing that thing seems a little Freudian, don’t you think?” Lowering her gaze, she said, “A girl might almost think you’re compensating for something.”
As she had hoped, he snarled and swung. The bat struck her head and splintered, showering them both with shards of wood. Lena had made that bat from the wood of her own ash tree back in Michigan. Attacking her with it was like trying to drown a fish. She struck the gun from his hand and ran, trying to keep him between herself and the remaining werejaguar.
Lena swore as a bullet punched through her side. She glanced over her shoulder to see the second was tossing his empty gun aside. He shifted into his jaguar form, even as his friend shouted for him to stop.
Lena ducked past the slide and vaulted over the merry-go-round, heading for the park office. The parking lot was empty. She would never make it to the main road.
Instead, she ran for the landscaped garden in front of the office, where prickly pear surrounded a pair of saguaro cacti. Her feet crunched on decorative gravel as she turned around, her back brushing the spines of the saguaro. She waited for the jaguar to close the distance.
Lena’s li
ps tightened into a grim smile. As the beast slammed into her body, she allowed herself to fall backward, dragging the cat into the cactus with her.
“It’s been a week and I can’t stop thinking about that fight. If I had been stronger, none of this—”
“Only God is omnipotent.” Father Castelo shook his head sadly. “Powerful as you are, Lena, even you have your limits.”
A car horn blared outside the church. Lena jumped to her feet.
“Try to calm down. You’re safe here.”
Lena relaxed, knowing he was right. Built in an old Spanish mission, Grace Fellowship Community Church was probably the safest place in all of Tucson. Castelo had sheltered her here more than once. The adobe walls appeared old, but the spirits inhabiting them were powerful enough to turn away most threats. For two hundred years they had served the master of the church.
That was how Lena had first met the middle-aged priest, shortly after Janice’s studies brought them to Tucson. Lena and Castelo found themselves working together to defeat the church’s former leader, a man corrupted by power and dark magic who had been using the ghosts to punish those he found unworthy.
If the werejaguars found her here today, they would have worse to worry about than just Lena.
“I’m glad you’ve come. I’ve been worried.” Father Castelo was handsome enough for a priest, with thinning black hair and oversized silver-rimmed glasses. “I’m so sorry, Lena.”
The last thing she wanted was sympathy. “I’ve looked everywhere.” Lena twisted in the pew, running her fingers over the back. Buds sprang from the wood at her touch. “You don’t understand, Father. I should have been stronger.”
“No one can fight the world’s evil alone. What happened isn’t your fault.”
“I never said the fault was mine. I am what I am. Like Popeye,” she added with a wan smile. “Whatever Janice wanted, that’s who I was. In the beginning, she wanted her lover to be a hero. Beautiful, sexy, smart, and strong. She was so young, my little geek princess in her first year at college, dorm room overflowing with comic books and anime. Lately though, her tastes have changed.”
Lena waited until she was certain the remaining two werejaguars had left. Only then did she stagger out, leaving her attacker trapped in the saguaro.
She hated cacti. Somehow they always left her feeling both dry-skinned and bloated. Her hair caught in the spines, and she pulled free as gently as she could, not wanting to damage the plant.
“Damn,” she whispered as she examined herself. Fresh scabs covered the holes in her side where the bullet had ripped through. The wounds cracked and oozed as she moved. At least the cactus had healed her enough to reach her truck without bleeding to death. She was sweating by the time she climbed into the old Chevy pickup.
It was a toss-up which was in worse shape, Lena or her truck. With Janice’s grad school loans and Lena working a part-time job at the university bookstore, they were lucky to cover rent, let alone keep the truck running. The windshield was cracked and the vents blew only hot air, but the engine revved to life on the second try.
She and Janice lived in an apartment complex off Interstate 10, a short distance from the U of A campus. Not the most glamorous place in the world, but it was cheap, and more importantly, it supported a healthy scattering of palm trees around the parking lot in back. Lena liked the city for the most part, but it was like the gods had run out of green before making the place.
Lena felt the pull of her grove even before she left the truck, but she forced herself to go inside.
She found Janice sitting in the old recliner, chewing the cap of her pink highlighter as she pored over her books. Despite her pain, Lena warmed at the sight of her.
“Did you find them?” Janice caught her breath as she saw Lena. She slammed the book shut. “What happened?”
“I’m all right.” Lena caught Janice, holding her back. “Don’t. I’m still bloody. You don’t want—”
“I don’t care about that.” Janice bit her lip as she took in Lena’s injuries. “You’re bleeding.”
“Only a little.” Lena winced as she stripped off her jacket. “I found the Z dealers.”
“You said you could handle them,” said Janice.
“No, you said that.” Lena sighed. Now that she was here, she wanted to forget the whole thing. Let someone else handle the remaining monsters for once while she snuggled up with Janice to watch The Daily Show. Or not watch, depending on how things went. “It’s all right, Janice. You want a real life. A real partner.”
“I want you,” Janice said. “I always have. Even before you saved me back in Michigan.”
“I know.” Lena smiled and kissed her hands. “But you don’t want a superhero. You want something stable. A woman to grow old with. You think it’s coincidence I’ve been so domestic lately? Cooking meals that don’t come in a box, cleaning—”
“I never asked you to—”
“That doesn’t matter.” She shrugged. “I enjoy cooking, actually. Despite the lasagna disaster.”
“But this world needs you.” Janice pulled away. “Look at how much you’ve done, how many people you’ve saved. Just because some selfish part of me wants something different, that doesn’t mean you should change what you are.”
“That selfish part is the only one that matters,” Lena said. She could feel Janice’s conflict reflected within herself, the part of her that longed for peace warring with the need to fight the darkness most people couldn’t even see.
“What do you want?” Janice asked softly.
It was a question with no answer. Lena kissed her, loosening her normally tight control until she felt Janice respond. She slid a hand up Janice’s back, beneath her shirt, nails sliding over skin. Janice’s arms tightened around her.
Pain exploded in her side, and Lena pulled away, gasping.
“I’m sorry,” said Janice. “I didn’t mean—”
“Not your fault.” Lena drew a deep breath. “Looks like my body isn’t ready for what I want. But give me a night to rest, and I’ll give you a wake-up call you’ll never forget.”
“I love you.” Janice kissed her with nymphlike passion, almost enough to make Lena forget about the night’s defeat.
“I love you too,” said Lena. “First and always.”
“Good.” Janice spun her gently toward the door. “Now get out there and get your sleep. I’ll be waiting for you.”
Lena glanced around as she crossed the small open area behind the building. Barbeque pits sat to one side of the parking lot. Beyond stood a row of young palms and a burnt-out street light. Maintenance had long since given up on that particular light. No matter how many times they worked on it, the roots kept destroying the wiring.
Lena smiled as she crossed into the darkness, glancing back at the windows to make sure nobody was watching. She saw only Janice, staring down from their window.
Lena blew her a kiss, knowing she was just a shadow to Janice. She turned and touched her hand to the largest of the palm trees, pressing the scalloped bark until her fingers penetrated the wood.
Moments later, she was gone.
“Change is normal,” Father Castelo said, taking Lena’s hand in his. “I’ve seen it with many couples. People grow and change. Over time they discover their partner is no longer the same person they married.”
“I like who I’ve been.” Lena bowed her head. “I remember my former lives. Before Janice, I was a prepubescent Chinese girl who couldn’t speak English. Before that, an improbably endowed blonde with an I.Q. of seventy. But with Janice, everything was different. I was stronger. I could protect myself, protect her. I always knew what to do. But now . . .”
“Nothing lasts forever, Lena.”
“The monsters do.” Lena dug her fingers into her arms. “I do.”
“You can’t keep torturing yourself,” Father Castelo said.
Lena shrugged. “I’d torture the werejaguars, but I can’t find them. This city is too damn big. I’ve quest
ioned every junkie I could find. The only lead I’ve got came from Animal Control. They said jaguars are solitary creatures. The exception is when they’re young, when they stay with their mother.”
“You think these were children?” Castelo asked.
“Maybe. I don’t know. It’s still not enough to find them.” She bowed her head. “There was a time no evil could hide from me. Now . . . I can’t do it, Father. Janice was my strength.”
Lena knew something was wrong the moment she emerged from her tree. She closed her eyes, reaching inward. For nine years, she had carried the memory of her first time with Janice. Crying out together in Janice’s dorm room as Lena uncovered Janice’s fantasies, her unspoken desires, fulfilling not all of them—there was only so much time in the night—but enough to bind Lena to her.
This morning, that memory was a distant thing, the intensity gone.
“Oh please gods, no.” Lena ran for the back door. Inside, she took the steps three at a time. She spotted the police the instant she reached the second floor. Her apartment door had been ripped from its frame. One officer stood questioning the couple from across the hall. He glanced up, spotting Lena.
“Ms. Greenwood?”
Lena ran past him. How could she have been so stupid? “Janice!”
“You don’t want to go in there, ma’am.” The officer grabbed her arm. “You don’t need to see that.”
Even from the doorway, Lena could see enough. The door splintered on the ground, furniture overturned, blood everywhere. Two other uniformed officers moved through her apartment. One carried a chair leg with blood and fur in the broken end. Janice had given them a fight before she died.
“What happened to you, Lena?” The officer’s grip tightened every so slightly. “I know this is a shock. Would you mind coming with me to answer some questions?”
Lena glanced down at herself. Her shirt was still a bloody mess. No wonder he sounded suspicious. “I don’t have time.”
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