Grave Dealings (The Grave Report, Book 3)

by R. R. Virdi

  Oh crap.

  The three real cats burst from their hiding spots, rushing towards us and keeping their profiles low.

  I sighted on the umber cat and squeezed the trigger before shifting position and repeating the action. The cat moved before the first round left the barrel, managing to avoid the second as well.

  Fortunately, Ortiz was a better shot than I’d ever be. She spat at her side and cracked off a round. The bullet caught the freakishly large cat in its left shoulder, causing the beast to lose its balance. The Bakeneko’s momentum couldn’t be stopped thankfully. Its bulk and speed carried it forwards to grind along the ground. It tumbled and fought to right itself. Ortiz unloaded three more shots into its body. “How do we kill these things?”

  I fired a warning shot towards the marshmallow-colored cat, forcing it to pounce twice and vanish into the grass under a veil. “Keep shooting; that’s how. Bakeneko are pretty close to mortal. Resilient suckers, but bullets will do the job.”

  “Good.” Ortiz fired a few rounds into the distance where the white cat had disappeared. Her gun clicked. “Shit.”

  “Here.” The Daoine shouldered his way between us, holding the rifle with one hand as he handed Ortiz two magazines.

  Her eyes widened before a feral smile spread across her face. “Marry me.”

  The Daoine smiled back.

  I growled and glared at him. “How’d you just so happen to have those on hand?”

  He nodded towards Lyshae, who stood with her arms crossed in front of the lead Bakeneko, neither of the pair engaging in the fight. “She anticipated the need for weapons as well as the people you would most likely bring and the firearms she”—he gestured to Ortiz —“would likely bring.”

  Anticipated was the wrong word. Lyshae had set us up. I kept that to myself and spat. “And how did she know that?”

  The Daoine shrugged. “It’s her job.”

  I scowled. “Know-it-all.”

  Ortiz nudged me in the ribs after she’d reloaded. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  “Speaking of looking, where are the two other cats?” I turned in place, keeping my eyes open for any movement in the field.

  The Daoine spun and sank to his knees. His gun barked four times. Bullets scythed through air and grass. A pained yowl emanated from twenty yards behind us. The Daoine fired another burst in its direction. “There’s one of them. Or...it was.”

  Ortiz looked at him in admiration, the edges of her mouth turning upwards. She released a low whistle.

  Show off. It’s not that hard to hit an invisible target when you have superhuman senses, reflexes, and magic amplifying your every action by second nature. Maybe I was just bitter. I glared at the Daoine and his perfect features and decided my feelings were justified.

  Lyshae’s laugh cut through the field. “Two of your friends are gone. Two little cats left.”

  I could almost see her smile even though her back was turned to me. She was enjoying this. My spine felt like it was going to twist and knot inside my body. I didn’t understand how anyone or anything could enjoy the sudden outburst of violence that had left two things dead. They may have been monsters, sure, but Lyshae looked pretty damn human. Take away the fox-like ears atop her head, and you wouldn’t be able to tell her apart from any other vanilla mortal. Not to mention she could glamour herself. Yet her attitude was chillingly inhuman.

  It was a good reminder that sometimes monsters look just like us. It’s not their appearance that matters. It’s what they do and how they do it. She’d orchestrated this. I didn’t know how—yet—but she wanted a fight. And she was willing to throw us under the bus to get it. That was all manner of cold and calculating. We were going to have a talk when this was over.

  Lyshae turned around, staring into the distance at something none of us could make out. The Kitsune raised a hand, extending her index finger and raising her thumb to make a hand pistol. She shut an eye and tilted her head. Lyshae grinned. “Bang.” She moved her hand like she had fired an invisible shot. A lance of lime-green fire erupted from the tip of her finger.

  The coil of flame surged over the field, forcing every blade of grass to bow under its pressure. In the distance, the air shimmered and shattered like it was made of cheap crystal. A hickory-colored cat jumped into the air, flailing in panic as the ground beneath it flashed. Green flames crackled over the spot and threatened to lick their way up to the cat. The beast’s fur melted away as it took human form. It twisted midair with a gymnast’s grace and landed in a crouch a safe distance from the fire.

  Everyone was silent. I turned my gaze from the recovering Bakeneko to eye the path the flames had traveled. The tips of the grass looked like they hadn’t been subjected to a fire. I smiled. I’d seen this before. Lyshae could weave some pretty impressive illusions.

  The Bakeneko in the distance rose. He was a dark-skinned male with thick, shaggy hair the color of honey infused hickory. His eyes were like the female Bakeneko who led the group. Burning like bright copper and vertically slit. He was a husky guy with a build like someone who lifted a lot of weights but could’ve been tighter with their diet. He was completely nude.

  I winced, trying to blot out the giant, naked cat-man. Things I don’t need to remember for one thousand, Trebek. I shook my head and glanced at Lyshae, who was smiling. She shouldn’t have been. She may have had an eye on one of the Bakeneko, but there was still one to her back.

  The tawny Bakeneko pulled an arm back and lunged. Her clawed hand raked the air, closing in on the back of Lyshae’s throat.

  Lyshae fell to her hands as the blow sailed harmlessly overhead. The Kitsune tucked her knees to her chest before driving her legs out like pistons. Her heels rocketed into the Bakeneko’s stomach. The force of the handstand mule-kick sent the creature tumbling. Lyshae pushed off her hands and landed back on her feet, brushing her palms against each other.

  I made a mental note not get into a fist fight with her. That was impressive. It pays to have lived for a thousand years. She must’ve picked up some fighting tips over the millennia.

  A series of heavy barks came from behind me. The Daoine muttered something in a language I didn’t think was human. The rifle cracked several more times. Either he was missing—unlikely—or trying to drive the creature away.

  The Bakeneko’s leader recovered and screamed at Lyshae. It was a hoarse thing that sounded like it tore half the lining in her throat. She didn’t attack again fortunately.

  Lyshae was unfazed by all of it. She ran her hands against her sides, smoothing her dress. “Then there was one. Do you really want to continue? Or would you rather walk away from this? You have a choice. You can live and scamper back to your king to tell him what happened—how you failed—or you can keep this a secret and live with the shame. Either way, you are no longer permitted here.” Lyshae ground her foot against the dirt. “And this is no longer neutral ground.”

  What? Just when I was starting to think I had her figured out. The Kitsune was working too many angles for me to keep track of. Calling in my favor. Hoping to get us ambushed by Bakeneko and starting a fight. All so she could run them out to claim the land on someone else’s behalf. A certain question lingered in my mind.

  Somehow, it’d made its way to the tip of the Bakeneko’s tongue. She sneered at Lyshae but kept herself from a doing anything rash. “Then what is it?”

  “Mine,” said Lyshae.

  The temperature felt like it had dropped enough to warrant using the Kelvin scale. All it had taken was one word. Possession is a powerful thing. Declaring something as yours has a small, yet magical effect. People don’t realize that. Imagine it: if someone tells you that something is theirs, you remember that. That’s my toy. That’s my car. That’s my cookie. You don’t touch other people’s things. Nothing is physically stopping you, but there’s this invisible barrier that keeps you from crossing that line.

  Unless you’re trying to start a fight. Or you’re a kleptomaniac.

&
nbsp; But there’s power in claiming something. I just hadn’t figured Lyshae for hopping aboard that train. And now she’d snatched a chunk—no matter how small—of the Neravene for herself. Guess whose fault that was? I let her manipulate Ortiz, Kelly, and me into this. The Kitsune had plans of moving up in the paranormal world. From information broker to landowner. I had a feeling I knew where she was heading down the line. I didn’t know where she intended to stop, or if I could force her to.

  I hoped I wouldn’t have to find out anytime soon.

  The Bakeneko lost her cool and snarled.

  Lyshae shook her hand. An inch of polished metal protruded from her grip.

  I never saw her arm move.

  Crimson beads soared into the air like they’d been flung from the tip of a brush. The Bakeneko screamed, pawing at her face as she reeled. A gash the length of my middle finger ran down the side of her nose, barely missing the inside of her left eye. The flesh didn’t fester or hiss in protest.

  I made a mental note that Bakeneko didn’t suffer the same adverse reaction to human metals like some creatures of the Neravene. Shame.

  The Bakeneko yowled. Its pitch was loud and shrill enough to strip bark and fiber from trees. My eardrums rattled inside my skull as the creature lunged. Her fingers closed around Lyshae’s throat. The cat-lady’s lower left eyelid twitched like it couldn’t handle the strain of keeping the muscle open.

  Lyshae stood so calmly that she made stones look like shivering leaves under a stiff breeze. “Go ahead. Kill me.”

  I could picture her smile. “Um”—I raised an index finger and took a step forwards—“maybe you shouldn’t provoke the angry cat woman who’s got her hands to your throat. Just a suggestion.” I blinked and realized something. “On second thought, never mind—go ahead.”

  Ortiz hissed, and my shoulder throbbed. “What are you thinking?”

  “That maybe if Catwoman there kills the tricksy, manipulative fox spirit, I go free?”

  The Daoine grunted and shook his head. “Don’t get your hopes up. She’s been at this game for too long to screw this up now. She knows what she’s doing, and who she’s playing.”

  I eyed him but kept from scowling. “Yeah, and who’s that?”

  “All of us.” His voice was flat.

  Somehow, Lyshae managed to let out a small, melodic laugh. “If you kill me, my retainer will kill you. It’s not an outcome that favors you.”

  The Bakeneko bared her fangs. “Or you.”

  “I’ll take my chances. What about you?” Lyshae’s mouth quirked at the corners.

  The Bakeneko blinked, and her hand tremored on Lyshae’s throat. The cat demon released her hold.

  “I don’t believe it.” I gawked at what was happening.

  Lyshae had literally set up the Bakeneko’s crew to be wiped out by us, insulted her, and maimed her. Their leader had her hands wrapped around the Kitsune’s pretty little neck, ready to wring it. And she had let go. There was manipulative and mind-fuckery, and then there was Lyshae, who brought those things to an art form.

  Lyshae raised a hand, bringing it to rest on the Bakeneko’s shoulder. “I have a question for you before you disappear.”

  The cat demon took a step back, looking over her shoulder for help that would never come.

  Lyshae leaned in. “Can you outrun a bullet?”

  The Bakeneko turned and ran. She was twenty feet from Lyshae when she clawed the air like she was hoping to tear it away.

  The Daoine brushed past me, tucking his compact rifle to the center of his chest. A light, like a candle sparking to life, licked around the tip of the weapon’s barrel, and a sundering crack accompanied it.

  The air parted. Jagged streaks of tangerine light tore through the space. The Bakeneko passed through.

  For all the gun’s show, it didn’t deliver. The round passed several feet wide of the cat demon’s last position. There was a sharp sound like the landscape around us had taken a massive breath. The Way vanished.

  Everything was quiet—for a moment, at least.

  I turned to the Daoine and narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t think something like you would miss.”

  “I do when I’m paid to.” He gave me a thin smile. Meaning Lyshae had anticipated this—down to the gritty details of how it could play out. It was time for me to test just how much she had figured out.

  “Ortiz, watch her crony, will ya?” I tilted my head in the direction of the Daoine. With a flick of my wrist, I sent her revolver tumbling towards her.

  She caught it without looking.

  “Crony?” The Daoine blinked and wrinkled his face.

  Ortiz shifted her posture and backpedaled a few steps. “What are you going to do?”

  I clenched my jaw. “Have a talk with his boss. If he does anything funny, shoot him.”

  Ortiz’s mouth twitched, but she didn’t argue. Killing someone, something, in cold blood didn’t sit well with her. The Bakeneko had attacked us. It was self-defense, plain and simple. But the Daoine had fought by our side, and truth be told, saved us. Ortiz knew that. The only way she’d pull the trigger was if he gave her a reason to.

  I had a feeling that I was going to give everyone cause to lose their cool. It’s a specialty of mine. “Kelly, come with me, if you don’t mind?” Getting her away from the powder keg that could be the Daoine and Ortiz seemed like a good idea. “Kelly?” I turned and wished I hadn’t.

  She clutched tight to her phone like it was the only thing she could remember how to do. Her knuckles were white enough to make me think she’d been holding onto it the entire fight. The tips of her fingers were getting close to a shade of purple that came with no circulation. The phone shuddered in her grip. Her eyes were wide and staring a hole through me.

  I’d seen that look before. It was a hollow stare that somehow lets a person see a lot and yet nothing at all.

  I felt like she was staring at me, through me, and past me all at the same time. Lyshae was pushed from my mind for the moment. I’d deal with her after I took care of something more important. I moved past Ortiz, keeping my eyes locked with Kelly’s.

  No matter the terrible things that happen, having your eyes on a friend can help snap you back to reality. At the very least, it can help you process.

  I placed my hands on her shoulders and rubbed them. “Hey, Kelly?” I gave her a lopsided smile. Never let anyone tell you that a smile doesn’t help. They do. Go down the street and flash someone a genuine, honest-to-God smile, and see what happens. Most will return it and brighten up. There’s a subtle magic in smiles. They can wash a lot of bad things away, and bring some people out of someplace dark. “Kelly?”

  She blinked, sucking on what little moisture was left in her mouth. “Yes?” Her voice shook more than the phone.

  I followed my own advice and gave her the most honest smile I could. It wasn’t hard. Sometimes you just have to find something you’re grateful for, no matter how small, and let it out. In this case, it was the simple fact that she was unharmed. A lot of people don’t have that luxury the first time they dive into the paranormal world. Ortiz hadn’t. The thought threatened to pull the smile from my face. “You’re fine.” I rubbed her shoulders again.

  “Am I?” She sounded like she was far away and dazed. “That’s funny, because I feel—I don’t know.”

  “One word at a time, kid. Just say whatever comes to mind. I know there’s bound to be a lot racing up there with what just happened. And here.” I slid my hands against her arms until I came to her wrists. “Maybe we should loosen up on this, huh?” My thumbs slipped between her fingers and the phone, prying them apart gently. I folded my fingers over one of her hands and I pushed the phone into her palm.

  She closed her hand over it. Her grip was softer. A small relief.

  “Better?” I held my smile.

  Kelly nodded. “Yeah. What happened?”

  “Honestly?” I almost looked over my shoulder to Lyshae but I kept my eyes on Kelly. She needed a friend ri
ght now. “That’s a good question. Are you sure you want the answers?”

  She licked her lips and let out a weak laugh. “That’s what I live for.”

  I shot Ortiz a look before turning back to Kelly. “I’ve heard that before.”

  Ortiz stared daggers at me.

  The ends of Kelly’s mouth turned up in a light smile.

  Worked for me. “Then I’ll give them to you. But first, trust me, you’re going to want a breather. Seeing the things you just did, then trying to process them with the answers I’ll give you—it never goes well. Take my word on that one, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” It sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than me. Kelly broke our gaze, looking past me.

  I sighed. I had a good idea of what she was looking at. “Speaking of answers.” I whirled around and surged forwards a step. My hands balled around the front of Lyshae’s dress, and I pulled her close. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t finish what the Bakeneko started?”

  She gave me a fox-like smile. “I’ll give you five.”

  An elongated barrel pressed against my temple. “One,” said the Daoine.

  Oops.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A pinpoint of pressure concentrated on my thigh. I looked down without moving my head. The tip of Lyshae’s diminutive blade pressed against my suit with enough force to be felt. I had a feeling if the Kitsune pushed harder, the knife would cut into my femoral artery. It wasn’t a theory I wanted to test.

  Lyshae extended two fingers from her free hand. “Two.”

  My face felt like drying cement being forced to stretch as I smiled. I didn’t want to find out what the other three reasons were.

  “Step away from him—now.” Ortiz’s voice cut through the series of thoughts occupying my head.

  Lyshae looked past me. The knife remained in place, to my discomfort. “Why? He threatened me. I’m simply reminding him of his place. Should I remind you of yours?”

  I swallowed. Making mistakes wasn’t part of Lyshae’s repertoire, but she had just made a big one.

  “What?” Ortiz’s tone could’ve sanded brick into dust. “I have two reasons of my own.” She stepped around us and into view. Both of her guns were leveled on Lyshae. Ortiz didn’t make a habit of missing.