by N. P. Martin
“Fucking hawk more like,” I muttered.
“Don’t curse in front of the kid,” Cal said. “You’re setting a bad example.”
“Right, well, I’ll leave setting the bad example to you then,” I said.
“God, you two are like an old married couple or something,” Daisy said. “Can we tend to Scarlet now? I want to ask her about all her kills when she wakes up.”
“Her kills?” I shook my head. “God, I’ve created a friggin’ monster.”
When we got to my trailer, Scarlet was still out of it on the bed. “Poor thing,” Daisy said as she took in Scarlet’s injuries. “Those bastards.”
“Yep,” I said as I hooked Scarlet up to a saline drip.
“I hope you killed them all. Especially the one who held a gun to my head. What happened to him?”
“Believe me,” I said. “He won’t be bothering anyone ever again, at least not in this world.”
“So he’s dead?”
“Worse.”
“What’s worse than dead? Has he gone to Hell or something?” She laughed a little at this but stopped laughing when I looked at her. “Oh shit, he has, hasn’t he?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, handing her the ointment. “Do you think you can put this stuff on her wounds and reapply the bandages?”
Daisy nodded. “Sure.”
“If she wakes up, give her some of this medicine. I’ll leave it on the table here.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home to sort myself out, and then into work. I got stuff to do. Are you okay to stay here for a while?”
Daisy nodded like she was happy to stay. “Sure. My momma thinks I’m at school, anyway.”
“Won’t you get in trouble for not being there?”
“In school?” She made a snorting noise. “I’m like a ghost in that place. Hardly anyone will notice I’m not there, and the ones who do won’t care.”
“What about your teachers?”
“That’s who I’m talking about.”
I shook my head and then stared at her a minute as she began to carefully peel back a bandage on Scarlet’s stomach and then apply a little of the ointment over the sutures. Daisy was a good girl, I had to admit. Considering what she had to contend with at home, she seemed to be remarkably well balanced, though I didn’t doubt she had her insecurities like the rest of us. How could she not with a mother like hers?
Although, at least she had a mother. Mine was dead by the time I was five, and in the time before that, my mother was away more than she was at home. The crazy thing was, I never stopped loving her. I mean, she was my mother, right? No matter what they do, you still love them. Same with kids, you always love them…even when they’re dead. Especially when they’re dead.
“I appreciate your help, Daisy,” I said. “You’re a good girl.”
Daisy smiled, a little embarrassed, but also pleased by what I’d said. I guess she didn’t hear compliments often. “Thank you, Ethan,” she said.
I left Daisy with Scarlet and told her I’d come by later and take her home, even though she seemed happy enough not to go back home at all. She had a purpose, and she felt useful, a feeling she didn’t want to give up. And I had to admit, I enjoyed having her around, despite the danger involved for her. I mean, if it was Callie, would I want her involved in this life; this life of darkness, and murder and mayhem and sorrow? Maybe, maybe not. People do what they want to do, and no one else can stop them. I certainly did. So does Daisy. Probably Callie would’ve too. I mean, look who her dad is.
When I got back to the apartment, the Hellbastards were there, crowded onto the couch, drained it seemed as they watched Dinosaurs, an old puppet show from the nineties. “Hey, boss,” they said, one by one, hardly looking at me.
“Tired, boys?” I asked them.
“Yeah,” Scroteface said, his tabby cat headdress gone now, which he must’ve lost in the melee at The Brokedown Palace.
“How Miss Scarlet?” Cracka asked. He seemed to have held onto his Chihuahua headdress, although the two front legs had been ripped off.
“She’s okay,” I told him. “She’ll live.”
Cracka smiled as much as a demon with a mouth like his could smile. “Yayyyy,” he said in a little voice that could almost have been cute if it wasn’t for the rest of him.
“Mission accomplished,” Snot Skull said.
“Sorry about your arm, Snot Skull,” I said.
“It’ll grow back,” he said.
“Right,” I said. “That’s good.”
“We had fun earlier, boss,” Scroteface said. “When’s the next bloodbath?”
“I’ll let you know,” I said. “What about Hannah? Has anyone seen her?”
“We left her there,” Reggie said, puffing on a joint. “She said to tell you something, though.”
“What did she say?” I asked.
“She said to tell you she was going to take care of some old business,” Scroteface said.
“We didn’t hang around, boss,” Toast said. “She was opening portals to Hell.”
“Fuck that noise,” Reggie said.
“She scary bitch,” Cracka said, then looked at me. “Sorry, boss.”
“It’s okay, Cracka,” I said, knowing he wasn’t wrong. “What about Haedemus?”
“Mouthy horse stay with her,” Cracka said and then tittered to himself. “He shit on that man’s head.”
All the Hellbastards let out a snigger without taking their eyes off the TV.
“I’m glad you had fun, boys,” I said. “Enjoy your program. You earned it.”
I left them to it, heading into the bedroom to strip off my clothes, which were covered in blood. “Another trench ruined,” I sighed as I dumped it in the corner of the room.
12
On the way to the precinct, I stopped at a thrift store and found a dark trench that fit me, even if it was well-worn. Not being the height of style at the best of times, I didn’t mind a little scruffiness.
As I left the store, the heavens opened, and rain started drenching the city once more, making me glad I had a new coat. Inside the car, I tried calling Hannah’s phone again, but it was going straight to voicemail, so I texted her instead:
WHATEVER YOU’RE THINKING OF DOING
DON’T!
Going by what the Hellbastards had told me, I suspected that Hannah’s demon personage would go after one of the Yakuza members who had wronged her. I hoped that wasn’t the case, for if she were, she’d be opening up a whole can of worms and things would undoubtedly get bloody down the line. They always did. Not that there was much I could do about it now. I just had to hope Hannah gained back control from the demon before she did anything foolish.
When I got to the precinct, the officer at the front desk said the captain had left a message for me to see him as soon as I got in. Thanking the officer, I sighed and went straight to Captain Edwards’ office, finding him in when I got there. “Drake,” he said when I knocked on the door and opened it. “Come in. Sit down.”
“You wanted to see me, sir?” I asked, wondering what this was about.
Edwards huffed slightly as he sat staring at me with his hands on his desk. “A while ago a report came in of heavy gunfire at a blues club downtown, a place called The Brokedown Palace. Do you know where that is?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“I know you do because you were seen near it just before the gunfire was heard.”
“I don’t think so, sir,” I said, wishing I’d taken a dose of Mud before I came in here. “I’ve been out investigating a case with my partner all day. The pregnant girl that came in here last night?”
“Yes, I heard. Some crazy cult chick.”
“There’s more to it than that, sir.”
“Yeah, there always is with you, Drake.”
“Meaning…sir?”
“Meaning, I don’t like how you and your partner swan around this place doing whatever the fuck you like, with no o
versight.”
This again. Fucking hell. “You mean without your oversight.”
Edwards leaned forward. “This is my precinct, Drake. Don’t fuck with me.”
“I’m not, sir,” I said. “I’m just doing the job assigned to me by the commissioner.”
“Did he assign you to The Brokedown Palace?”
“No, sir. I wasn’t near there. What’s supposed to have happened?”
“Nothing, that’s just it,” he said. “We had multiple reports from ear witnesses saying it sounded like World War Three was going on there. Funny thing is, when a patrol car went to check it out, they found nada.”
I shrugged. “Maybe the music was too loud.”
Edwards glowered like he wanted to jump across his desk and strangle me. “Couple of dealers nearby saw you drive into the alley behind the club around the time of the gunfire. What were you doing there, Drake, and what the hell happened? There’s evidence all over the club that something big and bloody went down, but there’s not a single body anywhere. No owner, nothing.”
“Weird,” I said. “Sounds like an investigation for my unit.”
Edwards shook his head as I stared at him straight-faced. “You used to be a good cop, Drake.”
“I still am, sir.”
“Maybe, but you’re also a loose cannon,” he said. “I can’t have loose cannons running around my precinct.”
“Look, sir,” I said. “I’m saying this with the utmost respect, but you need to accept how things are and just let me and my unit get on with it.”
“On with what?” he barked. “Doing whatever the fuck you like?”
“With saving fucking lives!” I shouted, shooting forward in my chair. “With dealing with the shit that no one else here wants to deal with! I gave you fucking ten years of service, Edwards. I think I’ve earned the right to be left alone to get on with my fucking job, and if you have a problem with that, take it up with the commissioner. In the meantime, stay out of my fucking way and let me do my job.” I got up out of my chair and stomped to the door.
“Your days are numbered here, Drake!” the captain shouted after me as I walked out the door. “Nobody talks to me the way you just did and gets away with it. Nobody!”
A while later, as I sat at my desk in the subbasement, I wasn’t surprised to get a phone call from Commissioner Lewellyn. “Hello?” I said as I sat with my feet on my desk.
“Ethan,” Lewellyn said. “What the hell are you playing at, winding Captain Edwards up like that? He wants your badge.”
“I’m sure he does, sir.”
“This isn’t a joke, Ethan. He’s petitioning to have you thrown off the force.”
“On what grounds?”
“Insubordination.”
“He’s just puffing his chest out. He’ll calm down.”
“You better hope he does. There’s only so much protection I can give you.”
“I know, sir,” I said, nodding to myself.
“Anyway, on a more positive note, I’m happy with the work you and Walker have been doing,” he said. “You’re stopping some dangerous people.”
“That was the whole idea. Anything else, sir?” I said, taking my hip flask out and opening it. “I’m in the middle of something important here.”
“Yes, there is, actually,” he said. “That guy from Blackstar called again, Eric Pike.”
I rolled my eyes. “What did he want?”
“He seems to have heard about this latest case you’re investigating, the one involving the pregnant girl.”
“What about it?” I asked, taking a swig from the hip flask.
“He wants you to steer clear of it,” he said. “The balls on this guy, right?”
“It’s Blackstar. They carry their balls in a wheelbarrow, sir.”
“It sure seems that way. Anyway, I asked him why and he said he couldn’t comment, but that there’d be repercussions if we didn’t drop the case.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him to go fuck himself…again.”
“Good call, sir.”
“I hope these guys aren’t going to make trouble for us, Ethan.”
“Don’t worry about it, sir. They’re just saber-rattling. There’s not much they can do.”
In reality, there was plenty Blackstar could do—to me, to the department, even to Lewellyn himself, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
“Alright, Ethan, I’ll take your word for it. And Ethan?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Keep your fucking head down, for God’s sake.”
“I’ll try my best, sir.”
When I hung up the phone, I sat and thought about Blackstar for a moment. When it came to MURK activity in this city, I knew well that Blackstar thought they were the only ones who should be dealing with it. They had their reasons, but mostly, it came down to power and control. Wendell Knightsbridge was the founder and CEO of the company. Wendell was a smart man, but manipulative with it, and he thought he was above everyone, spending most of his time at the Blackstar facility in a fenced-off area just past the city limits, far from prying eyes. Fueled by his burning desire for more power, knowledge, and control, Wendell built Blackstar from the ground up, soon gaining the nickname of The Magician because of his social sleight of hand and manipulative ways. The entire company and everyone in it was an extension of Wendell’s ego; a tool he used to fulfill his dark desires. I knew from experience that nothing ever impeded those desires, and if he thought either me or my unit was getting in his way, he wouldn’t hesitate to wipe me off the board. He probably already had a chip on his shoulder that I had bested him when I left the company on my own terms, which no employee ever did. It therefore wouldn’t take much for Wendell to give the order to have me taken out, so I would have to tread carefully.
In the meantime, I had a hunch as to how I could locate Scarlet’s sister, Charlotte. Scarlet had said that Charlotte had been adopted and also that there’d been no signs of struggle when she was taken from the forest. From that, I extrapolated that Charlotte had some connection with the person who turned up and took her away. It was possible, even likely, that the person who took Charlotte away was her biological father. It was the only reason that would explain Charlotte’s willingness to go along with him.
This man had turned up and had somehow convinced Charlotte that he was her father, coercing her into leaving with him. Given the circumstances, it was the only thing that made sense to me. I still had to prove it which meant finding out the identity of the biological father and then tracking him down. To do that, I would have to go through official channels and wade through a load of red tape and bureaucratic apathy, which could take days. Or, I could go and see Pan Demic and Artemis, and they could get me what I needed in a fraction of the time with no awkward questions. I chose the latter option as I left the subbasement and went on my way.
When I got to Bankhurst and entered the penthouse, it surprised me to find that Artemis was alone. “Where’s your bum-buddy?” I asked as I took a seat next to him at his workstation.
“Pan Demic’s mom is in hospital,” Artemis said as he sucked what looked to be a smoothie through a straw.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“She has cancer, dude. I don’t think she has much time left if you know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said as I took a cigarette out and lit it up. “How’s Pan Demic taking it?”
“How do you think? He’s fucking devastated, man.” He took another suck on his straw. “There might be a silver lining, though. I hacked one of the Big Pharma companies and found out they’re sitting on an honest to God cure. Can you believe that? The fuckers would rather let people die than cure them. So I stole their fucking formula, and now I’m having the cure made up myself.”
“Let’s hope it works.”
“Yeah, and if it does, I’ll release the formula online.” Artemis bent down to the coke mirror on his desk and snorted a line through a si
lver tube, snorting and rubbing his nose before continuing. “Better than that, I’ll have the cure made up and distributed everywhere. There’s nothing those Big Pharma fucks can do to stop me either.”
“You’d be surprised what resources they have,” I said, blowing smoke out at the same time. “Just be careful.”
“Always, Drakester, always. So what can I do for you on this fine day?”
“I’m glad you asked,” I said. “I need you to dig into some records for me.”
“No problem. How’s Scarlet by the way? I can’t believe I forgot to ask you. This whole Pan Demic thing is fucking with my head.” He bent down and did another line, offering the mirror to me, which I declined.
“You sure it’s not the fucking coke messing your head up? Between you and Pan Demic, you must keep the cartels in business just by yourselves.”
Artemis laughed. “Yeah, we do a lot of this shit. Keeps the sinuses clear, you know what I mean?”
I shook my head at him. “You’re fucking nose will fall off before long.”
“Fuck it, if it does, I’ll get a new one.” He sounded serious.
“Anyway, Charlotte Hood. I need you to find her adoption records. Go back to 2001. Charlotte was adopted when she was only a few months old.”
“Ah,” he said, already typing furiously on his keyboard, bluish magical energy glowing under his palms and arcing off his fingertips. “The lovely Scarlet’s little sister.”
“That’s right.”
“How is she? You rescued her okay?”
“Yeah, she’s not in great shape, but she’ll live, I’m sure. Thanks for your help on that.”
“Sure thing, Drakester. Any time.”
As Artemis continued to work on his computer, I put my feet up on the desk and leaned back in my chair as I continued smoking, my mind turning briefly to the events at The Brokedown Palace. I’d hardly had time to process what had happened, though to be honest, I wasn’t much for sitting around ruminating on stuff, especially missions. I’d done so many over the years that they had become commonplace, like going out for breakfast or dinner. You did it and came home, end of story. What was done was done, so thinking about it constantly wasn’t going to accomplish anything.