Troy Ounce (Lopez Time Book 1)

by Phillip S. Power

  The man froze and seemed about ready to be upset with the detective, so Troy nodded at him.

  “Actually, that’s about right, isn’t it? We need to set up some kind of P.R. related thing. You know, show that humans and vampires can work together and all that? Really, we should get some shifters and mages in as well. Maybe some kind of early spring picnic for the masses or something? It’s probably as close as we’re going to get to real supernatural work, most of the time.”

  The look that Troy received then was interested, but not exactly thrilled seeming. Like he was forcing himself to be polite.

  “I’m nearly certain we don’t have the funds for that in the budget. How do you propose we manage that part of things?”

  It was an honest question. Really, he could have afforded it himself, but that would look wrong. Line walker Troy Lopez could do that kind of thing, but Officer Lopez made barely enough to keep his apartment in town.

  So, he tilted his head.

  “You know, we should get with the Coalition of Nations on that. It’s their job, and even if they don’t have a real budget, they always seem to pull things like that off pretty well.”

  Sitting next to him, Denise pushed his arm. It reminded him of three of his girlfriends from the past. All of them had been dropped, inside a few weeks. The pushing and shoving thing got old fast.

  “Right, we’ll just call them up and demand they pay for local events… That will work.”

  He smiled.

  “Well, maybe it won’t, but not asking won’t help either. Besides, other than see about our would-be artist and some mini-rapists in the making, what do we have to do?”

  The fellow behind the desk made a triangle out of his fingers and leaned back.

  “Keep me in the loop on that? We can’t afford to do that kind of thing, but if we can get it put together for free we’ll want to get in on the publicity for it. Now, unless there was something else?” He looked at the clock on the wall obviously. It was twelve-thirty, almost exactly. Not that Troy needed a watch to know that one. Life was sucking harder than he liked and would be until about two. Then the burning would be about like sitting in a fire for a few hours, until it calmed like a cool bath.

  Then night would come and he’d be free of the pain for a few blissful hours.

  Standing, he tried to school his face into something approaching polite, even if the sun was being a hard taskmaster that way. Most of the other vampires, if they were up at all, just pasted a fake smile on their lips. That didn't work for cops. Not all the time. Troy knew that he needed to be better than that, if he wanted to work with the public all the time.

  “We’ll get that done.” He had his orders, after all.

  Tran waved to the other man and followed him out, waving toward the car, instead of back toward their desks to fill out all the forms and reports. They had some things to do first, after all.

  It wasn’t lost on him that neither the Chief or Tran had mentioned the baggy of weed and pills in her pocket. There had been no hint at dumping them or putting them into evidence either. Which he didn’t care much about, to be fair. If she wanted to toke up in her spare time, that was on her. Troy hadn’t been planning to get Clem in trouble for it, because he didn't care what other people did that way. It was a bit of a poor ethic for a police officer, but the fact was, even with all the training, he was a vampire first. More than that, he was Troy Lopez. The law had always been a thing to respect to him.

  Even while he was breaking it. Or helping his friends do things that were more than a bit sketchy. Like hide the bodies. He’d been that way even before he’d died. Doing whatever was needed to make things work out right.

  That wasn’t the point of him being there though. The idea was for him to simply be on the job, make the others on the force feel good enough about having him there and to get some decent press for the local vampires, if not the national council. Everything else was… Well, really it wasn’t an issue at all.

  When he got bored with the work, he could leave. The Council had suggested he take ten years for it, but if he wanted to do forty, they’d deal. The same was true if he dropped it after four. They might not love the idea of him not making two or three, however. Not without a great reason. Then, he didn’t care that much about what they thought. He tried to pretend he did, but out of all of them, only Bey mattered that way.

  His maker was just happy that Troy wasn’t going around eating all the people by himself and demanding he be allowed to take over the world. Actually, keeping any kind of job in the first decades of being undead was considered a big deal for their people. Being left alone to do it, without supervision, was a sign of nearly total trust, even. If he’d wanted to work in an embassy, or even do something else, like run a night club or tend bar, that would have worked for Bey just as well.

  He could have even been a line walker full time, if he wanted the big bucks. That paid really well. Enough so that the little bits he’d done already that way had made it so he really didn’t need to work for a long time. He was living on his cop salary, but he could have had mansions if he wanted them. It didn’t fit his current Troy act though, so he was hiding that part of things.

  Except the suits. Those had been presents. Nice ones that would have meant Avery liked him, if she hadn’t given them to everyone she knew. Maybe even then. It was worth thinking about, even if she was a bit young looking on the outside. It felt kind of right. He shut that thought down though, turning his mind from it so fast he nearly didn’t notice it. Not the Avery bit, which he was cool with.

  No, it was that it felt correct.

  When they got to the car, Tran moved into the driver’s seat again.

  “Why in the hell would you make work for us like that? Picnics? You’ll have us dressing up in bear costumes next, or being officer friendly at the grade schools. Officer Vampy, the friendly vampire and his side kick stake girl. No kids, he won’t drink your blood, honest. You can trust vampires and the cops.”

  He laughed then, even if he was in pain due to the sun above them.

  “That… yeah. I mean we probably should do that, but it isn’t the truth. Cops want to put them away as often as not and vampires mainly want to drink their blood, if not do less savory things with them. I get that we need them to think good things, but we probably shouldn’t lie to them that way. It’s a balancing act, isn’t it? Besides, if we’re doing costumes, Eve has this Squirrel thing she wears. We can get Avery to make a little cop outfit to go over that. It would be adorable.” It really would have been. Even better, Eve, monster that she was, would totally be down with that kind of thing.

  Tran glanced at him out of the corner of her eye then.

  “The Chief’s daughter? So, you like that furry stuff? Girls in costumes like that to get your groove on with? Sounds… Dirty. Kinky. You a perv, Lopez?”

  Freezing for a bit, he didn't speak at all, just going still. It wasn’t about her, just the way the traffic was setting up. He could trace the pattern of it. There was a driver speeding down the road, right behind them, who was racing the red light ahead. Going way too fast to stop in time.

  They had lights on the car, and a siren, though both were hidden from the outside. Flipping the switch, he growled.

  “Slow down, asshat. This guy is about to cause an accident. Behind us on the right. Let me…” He had a cell phone, and managed to bring it around just as the car blew past them, got into the intersection and t-boned a white minivan. Thankfully. It was large enough that the smaller car pushed it, but didn’t kill the driver. There was only the one person in the vehicle as well.

  The man in the smaller sports car screamed. Even as a strange buzzing feeling filled the air. Like magic. Not that Troy was using anything like that at the moment. He glanced at Tran, to see if it was her. That wasn’t impossible, after all. Humans didn't have a lot of talent that way, but there could be little pieces of talent in a family line. Mages were just humans with power, after all, and they married humans
most of the time.

  He kept watching, as Tran pulled up, the lights and siren still going. She, being on top of things, parked and called the situation in as Troy got out.

  It was tempting to start out by hitting the driver of the smaller blue vehicle a few times for being a dipstick, but his job was to check on people first. Then, if they were alive, he could work out what to do to the idiot that should have known better.

  Still, the woman in the van came first, since she wasn’t making much noise at all. Moving up to the window, he looked through the glass. She was blonde, her hair short and sporty. There was also a delicious looking line of blood on her forehead. The lady looked at him and made an annoyed face. Probably because he was staring at her.

  Then she tried to get out. That didn't work at all, the door crumpled shut. Instead of waiting for him to rip it open, probably not getting that it was a real option, she took her seat belt off, after trying and failing to move several times. Then she used the passenger side door.

  While she did that, clearly able to move if not being totally unharmed, he moved to see about the screaming jerk. That one was a bit more interesting. It didn’t really show, through the car windows, but the man was massively injured. He’d crushed his chest on the steering wheel pretty well. His rib cage had been broken in several places. Somehow, he’d managed not to end up with bone inside his lungs. So, he proved that by using them. Making loud bellowing noises. He was also the source of the energy that Troy was feeling.

  It was probably the man trying to use some kind of power that he didn't even know he had, to save his life. What it was doing, Troy wasn’t picking up.

  The dazed blonde lady moved over near him, her face hard.

  “That screaming is really annoying. Not that I’m saying he deserves it, but… Well, he deserves it. Think he’ll die?”

  He shook his head, not smiling.

  “Broken ribs, a few scrapes, some internal bruising, maybe some bleeding. His heart sounds fine. A bit fast right now, but so is yours. I have to second you on the annoying part.” He pounded on the top of the car a few times, then moved to pull the door open. That took some strength, but nothing that was really super powered. “Stop the noise. You’re going to live, so really… Try to act cooler than that. You seem like a pussy right now.”

  They didn’t even pretend to move him. The car wasn’t going to explode or anything silly like that. Instead, Tran jogged over with the first aid kit from the trunk. Looking at him like he might just munch the injured for some reason, she went a bit wide eyed.

  “Are you good?” She meant him, but the adorable looking blonde woman who reminded him a bit of a girl detective from television touched her head.

  Then she narrowed her eyes at the driver of the blue car.

  “Yeah. I’m not going to be loving the facial bruising in the morning, but I’ll live. We have an ambulance coming for this guy?” She didn't sound short, but there wasn’t a lot of sympathy in her tone, either.

  Then, she was getting blood on her clothing, so that might have been it. Troy moved, to get her a blood sponge to stop the bleeding. Then he focused on the man in the car. He was trying to get out.

  “No, just stay there. You have internal damage. I know it hurts, but moving won’t help at all. Just hold tight. Help is coming.” Telling people that was part of his training. You were supposed to use a soft voice and reassure people that they’d be fine, even if they were about to die. That would help keep them from freaking out and opening up the possibility of a lawsuit against you.

  At least that was the theory that Troy had come up with to explain it all. It could have just been that they were supposed to be kind to people in need. That one would work as well. To that end he turned to the blonde lady, and nodded.

  “You should probably sit down. Maybe off to the side, in case someone else runs a light? We did not need this today. Any of us. You could have saved a lot of time by not speeding like that. What the crap were you thinking?”

  The man, who wasn’t that old, didn’t speak then. There was whimpering instead. That was a bit better than screaming. The man was probably in pain, after all. A lot less than Troy was at the moment, but he’d been ready for it, and that really did make a big difference as to how well you could handle things.

  The lady, looking a bit unsteady, stepped backwards, then started to fall. Moving into the pain, hard, he took several steps toward her, using the special speed of the Bey line. It was cool enough, but also probably not needed. To the others there, he’d probably vanished and reappeared holding onto the woman, keeping her steady. She wasn’t in danger, making it more or less showing off.

  Interestingly, the only one who seemed to get it was Denise. She didn't let herself stare though, just moving in to whisper to the man in the half crushed blue vehicle.

  “Here, I’ll get you to the curb. I’m Troy, by the way. Officer Troy Lopez. Detective Tran is the other one, over there.” He nearly said something about not suing them, but they really hadn’t messed anything up yet. Not that it would stop anyone that really hated the cops.

  Instead of growling about her rights, or his cold hands, the injured lady blinked muzzily a few times and then nodded.

  “Heidi. Valenti. Um… Licensed and insured driver?”

  “Great! Well, Heidi, sit. You’re a bit unsteady right now, I think. Our other buddy there probably needs me to stand there and cheerlead for him. You know… It’s all right, it’s okay, you’re probably gonna live today… That kind of thing?” He nailed the little cheer, he thought.

  The woman actually smiled.

  “Sounds about right. I’m good here. Thanks, Troy.”

  It was a little strange, her using his first name. Even if he’d just given it. Generally, people heard cop and went ultra-polite and slightly formal. It was a distancing technique. Then, he’d used her first name, so it was totally fair.

  He did his job as an asshole whisperer with the man in the car, Lars. The man was a college student, who’d had no good reason in the world to be speeding like he was. Except, of course that he’d been texting at the same time. Because if you were going to look at your palm and type, it was always the best plan to go as fast as possible while doing it. Rather than pull his spine from his back, Troy just listened and then wrote down everything he was saying.

  Right until the ambulance got there and the EMTs took over. They also had three squad cars pull up. He recognized everyone there, of course. They worked with him, after all.

  One of them, Santos, waved at him and walked over.

  She was butch looking due to her short hair and a bit square in the face. Also, a lesbian, so the look really sold the whole package. Cute enough, even given that. She was out and pretty open about it. Everyone knew about her wife, since they’d all been invited to the wedding about four months before. Troy had gone to it, just to back up his coworker.

  “Lopez. You clean up nice. Love the clothes. Anyway, what’s up here?” She gestured at the car, taking it all in. Probably getting the idea instantly. It wasn’t that hard to work out.

  “Blue sports model there was driven by our new pal Lars over there. He managed to smack into Heidi Valenti, the lady in the white mini-van. At about ninety miles per hour. While texting and running a red light. Detective Tran and I saw the set up, but even putting the lights and siren on didn’t get him to stop first.”

  Santos, who was slightly tan, like he used to be when he was alive, pulled a pad out, and started taking down data. There would be forms needed. Not so much for him, though he needed to get a report down on the whole thing. Paperwork was the bane of police work, after all. Even if it didn’t bother him all that much, personally.

  “We need to get back to it, if you all have this here? I can pass out some of my cards… I had them printed up, just in case I ever get to do more than safety patrol for kids.” They were decently sharp seeming.

  Tran didn’t even smirk at him when he gave one to all of the police, one to Lars, an
d then Heidi, who was being helped by one of the EMTs.

  She winced a bit.

  “Good. This way I can call you later, for a date. You’re single, right?” She was kidding, it was clear.

  “I am. Also free in the evenings. I don’t sleep, so call if you have any supernatural law enforcement needs.” It sounded a bit like he was flirting, even though that was mainly reflex. The lack of sex drive really meant that he didn't need to do things like that. Even if he did like having other people around still.

  The point was, he wasn’t looking. Then, odds were Heidi wasn’t either.

  “Sure. Good to know. Now I just have to make up some kind of event. Ghosts work for you?”

  “Nope. Far too lame. You’ll have to do better than that.”

  He was being honest. Ghosts were mainly just echoes of old events. Occasionally they were spirits. If you ignored them, they went away. The words got a laugh, or at least a polite chuckle, and he moved to the car since Tran was waiting for him.

  She didn't ride him about anything, as they got back underway. It took a bit of tricky driving, to get around all the mess in the road, but their job wasn’t on cleanup for that kind of thing. There was no chatting for a bit, until they were back at the school.

  “This put us back some, they get out in ten minutes. How do we handle this? Back to the office?”

  “Yep. After all, I bet our pal Butler already had a chat with Morgan Bauer. Probably kicking him out. I mean, claiming that the secretary pegs him regularly is a bit over the top. Especially if it’s true. No one wants that kind of thing known about them, do they?”

  “A point. Well not our problem, man. Let’s see what’s going on here, anyway?”

  That one was interestingly enough pretty easy. Morgan Bauer, who was dressed in a button up shirt, nice slacks and had a bit of red paint on his left arm, sat outside the Principal’s office. Waiting for his parents to come in.

  The kid was skinny on a level that spoke of an eating disorder. He had red hair, and pale skin that was nearly translucent. His clothing was old fashioned as well, instead of being trendy. The idea of being a hipster wasn’t cool anymore, though someone had forgotten to tell the boy that. Troy could tell he was a boy at least. Also, that he’d been made as soon as he walked up. As a vampire. At least the boy stiffened up and looked scared.