Unnatural Acts

by Kevin J. Anderson

  When Sheyenne returned, I was so elated to see her that I threw my arms around her in a large air–bear hug, despite the fact that neither of us would feel it. She was excited, her eyes filled with ectoplasmic adrenaline. “You should have seen it, Beaux! Missy Goodfellow’s going to have a big mess to clean up.”

  “Missy? What did you do?”

  “Remember that warehouse where they store all the souvenirs for her gift shops? It was closed down for the night, but coincidentally, that’s where the bomb landed right before it went off. Silly little Kreepsakes scattered everywhere.”

  I laughed, imagining the scene. I took even more delight in imagining the expression on Missy’s face when she learned of it. I sure hoped that she hadn’t stored her collection of pawned hearts and souls there.

  Sheyenne muttered under her breath, “That’ll teach her to send goons to beat up my boyfriend.”

  I took her arm in mine (or at least I tried to), and we left the Full Moon together.

  CHAPTER 44

  McGoo showed up at the offices the next day, as I figured he would. Exploding bombs had a way of attracting attention.

  “You here to get a statement about the bomb at the Full Moon?” I asked.

  “Technically, yes.” His expression grew serious. “Mainly, I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I still felt disheveled and tired. Even for a dead guy, I’d had a rough day and night.

  McGoo stood inside the reception area by Sheyenne’s desk and regarded me with a stern look, but couldn’t hide the relieved smile behind his stony expression. “You always get yourself in trouble, Shamble. When are you going to stop making extra work for me?” He shook his head at my more-battered-than-usual appearance. “Even on a good day, you look like hell—but now you look like you’re from the Ninth Circle of Hell.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” I wasn’t going to tell him about being roughed up by Missy Goodfellow’s demon goons earlier that evening, and I had grudgingly decided not to turn in Shakespeare’s ghost for burning down his own stage.

  He brightened. “Oh, and also—why’d the vampire get fired from the blood bank?” I groaned even before he answered. “For drinking on the job!” Then I couldn’t help laughing.

  “And what does a vegetarian zombie say? Graaaaaaaiiiins!”

  “You’ve overstayed your welcome, McGoo. Sheyenne and I will give you any details we can, but Madam Neffi and her girls will be more helpful. Cinnamon was the one who received the bomb threat—the caller said it was a warning from Senator Balfour.”

  “Nothing would make me happier than to nail the senator with this,” McGoo said.

  “The new adult novelty store was shut down,” I said. “Locked and sealed up with an injunction tacked on the door.”

  McGoo gave a somber nod. “I predict that’s only the first in a long line of dominoes to fall. It’s only a matter of time before they shut down the Full Moon, too. His minions think they have a free pass now that the Unnatural Acts Act is law.”

  Robin came out of her office. “Not if I can help it. I’ve been writing legal challenges to stop the Act in its tracks.” She looked drawn and haggard enough to be impersonating one of the undead. Robin had consumed a full pot of coffee, freshly brewed in our new pot, even though she didn’t usually drink coffee. In circumstances like these, however, chamomile tea wasn’t going to be sufficient.

  “All this makes me very nervous, Shamble,” McGoo said. “The Quarter just isn’t as friendly a place as it used to be.” And that was saying something, coming from him.

  After McGoo left, I gave a wan apologetic smile to Sheyenne. “With all the excitement yesterday, I forgot to mention that we have free passes to Shakespeare in the Dark tonight. Want to see The Tempest with me?” I held out the tickets. “Front row seats.”

  She took the tickets and smiled at me, still a little uncertain. “Another try at a real date?”

  “Exactly—just you and me this time, some quality time together.” I lowered my voice, felt awkward. “Spooky, you know there was nothing between me and that succubus. I just felt sorry for her, like a big brother.”

  “I knew she wasn’t your type, Beaux . . . but a girl gets worried when her boyfriend finds excuses to keep going to a brothel day after day.”

  “Not excuses—business reasons.”

  Robin retreated to her office. “I’m staying out of this one.”

  Travis sauntered through the door and made our day even worse. After he had hurt Sheyenne—repeatedly—and then become the poster child for Senator Balfour’s crusade against unnaturals, I couldn’t think of any persona more non grata in our offices. Oddly, he seemed oblivious to his own sliminess. Smiling as he entered, he pretended to be everybody’s best friend. “Hey, sis! It’s been a long time. I just wanted to say hi.”

  Sheyenne gave her interpretation of the old cliché if looks could kill. “What are you doing here? You’ve already pawned the last of our family heirlooms, and I don’t have any more money for you to rip off.”

  Travis reacted with clumsily feigned shock. “That’s not very nice, Anne! You’re my sister. Can’t I stop by just to see you?” He noticed the tickets in her hand. I thought he turned pale—and I’m an expert in seeing people turn pale. “Ooh, Shakespeare in the Dark. You’re not one for that highbrow stuff—when did you get so snooty?”

  She stuck the tickets in the desk drawer. “Dan and I are going on a date. He’s taking me to the play—alone, without any extra company.”

  “Well, la-di-da. Why don’t you go out with me instead? We can talk this out, resolve our differences.”

  Sheyenne stared at him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? I watched you at the press conference! You’re a sock puppet for that vile senator. What did he pay you? And how can you stick up for him, after his people planted a bomb at the Full Moon to kill all kinds of unnaturals—and humans, too?”

  “Senator Balfour didn’t have anything to do with that,” Travis said quickly.

  “One of his minions called in the threat,” I interrupted. “Sheyenne and I were there when it happened.”

  Travis’s expression of indignation looked far more genuine than his previous smiles. “You know, I wish somebody would blow up that place. The Full Moon is a cesspool of unnatural acts. That succubus almost killed me!”

  “Only because you went to her!” Sheyenne snapped. “You did it to yourself. You signed the waiver. You were warned, but you went ahead anyway.”

  He sniffed. “Doesn’t matter. I should have been protected from myself. I can’t be required to know all the inherent hazards of unnaturals.”

  Sheyenne floated directly in front of him, in his face. “I’m an unnatural, Travis, whether you like it or not.”

  He looked hurt. “Don’t you realize how embarrassing that is to me?”

  “Sorry I came back from the dead and inconvenienced you,” Sheyenne said with bitter sarcasm. “Maybe if you’d been at my funeral you could have told me how you really felt. I forgot what a self-centered, deceitful brother you are, all the crap you’ve pulled over the years. I want you to leave and never come back. You’re dead to me.”

  “Dead?” Travis bristled. “Hah! You died first. Family’s supposed to stick together, but I don’t need you anymore. You dug your own grave, now bury yourself in it! Have fun at your stupid Shakespeare play.” He slammed the door on his way out.

  CHAPTER 45

  After the bomb at the brothel, Robin’s anger toward Senator Balfour was so great it overshadowed even her loathing for Harvey Jekyll, who was now her client. That afternoon, she called Jekyll into our offices to sign some paperwork for his case.

  Still shaken by the confrontation with Travis, Sheyenne kept herself distracted and busy by flitting back and forth to the courthouse filing injunctions to stop enforcement of the Act, then scheduling numerous hearings, traveling so much that I considered adding “courier service” to her already lengthy job description.r />
  She was gone when Jekyll and his bodyguard arrived, so I had to take care of the social niceties. When I offered them beverages, Larry asked for a beer, which we didn’t keep in the office; Jekyll asked for a sparkling water, but we were out, having given the last one to Bill the golem.

  Heavily caffeinated but exhausted, Robin led Jekyll into the conference room. “I am determined to get you into your house in the suburbs, Mr. Jekyll. The Patterson case establishes a precedent, and their appalling treatment from the neighbors can only sway sympathy, though it’s going to be an uphill climb, considering your track record.”

  “I am no stranger to appalling treatment, and much less accustomed to sympathy,” Jekyll said. “I read your amusing treatise against Senator Balfour, by the way. It must have hurt his delicate feelings.”

  “He needed to be exposed. Momentum is building against him. I can feel it. We’ll have the whole Quarter on our side. As of an hour ago, I’ve filed seventeen challenges to various provisions in the Unnatural Acts Act, and I’m just getting warmed up. I plan to keep Senator Balfour’s staff busy twenty-four hours a day. He won’t be able to move forward on any aspect of the Act without facing opposition. We’ll get it repealed—and your case will help the cause.”

  “Oh, good,” Jekyll said with dripping sarcasm. “I always wanted to be a bleeding-heart crusader for unnatural rights, since the unnaturals have been so kind to me.” His small hand curled itself into a fist like the legs of a spider sprayed with insecticide. “Why do you think I’m so desperate to move out of the Quarter?”

  Sheyenne flitted through the office door with stamped copies of the documents she had filed. She appeared less unsettled now, more corporeal, but when she saw Harvey Jekyll in our conference room, she grew bothered all over again. I was definitely looking forward to taking her out to the Shakespeare play and getting her away from the tempest around the offices.

  Jekyll drew a deep breath, calmed himself. “Life isn’t fair, either before or after death. My psychiatrist says I should accept the situation and move on. As the song says, I will survive.” He leaned forward, his narrow shoulders hunched, his bald scalp wrinkling with enough furrows to plant weeds in. “On the other hand, I won’t lose sleep to see Senator Balfour slapped. He deserves as many headaches as he’s caused me.”

  “But Balfour is one of your investors in the ectoplasmic defibrillator business,” I said.

  “Oh, he’s much more than that. Balfour used to be one of my Straight Edge buddies.” He looked at us, and I admit I wasn’t surprised by the revelation. “Now he won’t give me the time of day.”

  Larry furrowed his snout. “Don’t you have a watch, boss?”

  Jekyll ignored him. “The senator stopped taking my calls on the basis that it’s not his policy to speak with unnaturals. The nerve! He sent me a notice that my membership in Straight Edge has been revoked. We’ll see about that!”

  “I thought Straight Edge had been dissolved and disbanded,” Robin said.

  “It is, for the most part, but we still have a group medical plan, and there’s an annual get-together.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe Rupert would do this. He knows who I am . . . and I know damned well what he is.”

  “If he’s such a bad partner, maybe you should stop making ectoplasmic defibrillators,” I said.

  “Business is business. In fact, I’m paying all my outstanding bills because he just purchased two industrial-size defibrillators. He says he needs to protect himself against ghostly backlash from the Unnatural Acts Act. My defibrillators could disintegrate an entire army of angry ghosts if they came after him.”

  “Ghosts aren’t the only ones out to get him,” Sheyenne said. “Every unnatural hates his guts.”

  “This is just his opening salvo—any unnatural will do.”

  “You were always good at killing large numbers of unnaturals all at once, Jekyll,” I said, remembering his previous genocidal plans.

  He looked annoyed. “Yes, Rupert consulted with me. Normally, I’m willing to lend a hand to my friends, but I no longer count the senator among them.”

  “We gotta go, boss,” Larry said. “Dentist appointment.”

  Jekyll sighed. “I wish you’d set up these things on your own time.”

  The werewolf picked at his fangs. “We can stop for coffee on the way.” That seemed to make Jekyll happy.

  After they left the offices, another man entered, wearing a suit off the bargain rack and a thin black tie. I realized I had seen this guy-in-tie before at the Pattersons’ house. All business, the man handed Robin a folded packet. “Ms. Deyer, this is for you. I hope you enjoy it. You’re served.” He briskly walked away down the corridor.

  Frowning, Robin unfolded and scanned the document. First her expression fell, then her eyes blazed, as she flipped the pages. “Balfour’s playing hardball.” She handed the papers to me. “He’s slapped me with a defamation and libel suit and filed a complaint with the State Board of Professional Responsibility to get me disbarred.”

  Sheyenne said, “That’s ridiculous.”

  The troubled look on Robin’s face, though, told me that from a legal perspective, the suit was far from ridiculous. Some phrases from her vitriolic press release, which she phrased as actual fact, might have crossed the line. “Ambulatory wad of phlegm” stood out in my mind.

  “Looks like I’m going to be working late again,” Robin said. “More briefs to file, and now I’ve got to write up an Answer to his Complaint.”

  “We’re here, Robin, whatever you need.”

  Sheyenne tried to hide the frown on her translucent face. “We can go see a different performance of Shakespeare in the Dark, Beaux. We don’t have to go tonight.”

  I had forgotten it was time for us to leave, and Sheyenne and I really needed close time together, a night doing something normal for a change. “No, I promised you we’d go. The acting troupe has been through a lot, and this is their big comeback. We need to be there.” The crowds would already be arriving as night set in, and I was glad we had reserved seats. There would be a lot of ghosts at the event.

  Suddenly, something clicked in my mind. Travis had reacted with visible alarm when he saw that Sheyenne had tickets for the play. Why wouldn’t he want her to be there? Why would he care?

  The ticket presales had been high. The Greenlawn Cemetery would be crowded with half the ghosts in the Unnatural Quarter, coming to support the spectral company. And Jekyll said that Senator Balfour had just purchased two industrial-strength ectoplasmic defibrillators powerful enough to eliminate a spectral army . . . or disintegrate a whole crowd of ghosts gathered in one place.

  Sheyenne saw the expression on my face. “What is it?”

  “First they tried a bomb, but this is a hell of a lot worse,” I said. “Change of plans!”

  When I explained my suspicions, Robin gasped. “And the Unnatural Acts Act is currently in force, with provisions that humans can take any actions whatsoever against unnaturals! The senator will wrap himself in the law! It’s a slippery legal slope: You can’t murder a ghost, which is, by definition, already dead.”

  “He won’t murder those ghosts,” I said, “because we’re going to stop him.”

  CHAPTER 46

  As we raced to the cemetery, I called McGoo. “Bring backup to the Shakespeare stage right now! I don’t have proof, but I think Senator Balfour is going to attempt a mass disintegration of all the ghosts there.”

  McGoo did not hesitate. “If there’s a chance to implicate Balfour, I’m there. I’ll call out the squad cars and meet you.”

  As Robin, Sheyenne, and I charged through the cemetery gates, I tripped on the welcome mats. I had been trying to shuffle less in my step, but right now I was distracted. At least I didn’t do a face-plant into a gravestone. The Welcome Back Wagon vampire with cat’s-eye glasses tried to hand me another plastic bag full of goodies, but we hurried past.

  Unnaturals were already crowding the cemetery. Hundreds of ghosts had gathere
d around the tombstones, picking the best spots in the festival seating area. Vampires sat in lawn chairs they had brought. At any other time, I would have been pleased to see that the audience was so large—at least Shakespeare could afford to pay our bill. A disastrous tragedy would ruin the evening.

  We elbowed through the line as more ghosts streamed in. The hunchback taking tickets glared as Sheyenne, Robin, and I bulldozed past. “Hey, you can’t just—”

  “Private detective,” I yelled. “The police are on the way.”

  Since this was supposed to be a quiet, romantic date, I had hoped to catch the warm-up act with Sheyenne, but it was already in full swing. To the delight of the early-bird audience, three particularly limber zombies juggled a set of shrunken heads, bobbing up and down, passing the heads back and forth in a blur, like a macabre shell game. Towering speakers on either side of the stage blared out peppy music, set to a volume high enough to make the tombstones vibrate.

  Then the final piece clicked into place. That big sound system could easily hide a pair of industrial-strength ectoplasmic defibrillators.

  “They’re in the speakers,” I said. “The defibs are in the speakers!”

  Sheyenne cried out, “There’s Travis!”

  Up near the stage, I saw a man who looked like her brother; he wore a fake mustache and a bright yellow shirt with the words Stage Crew silkscreened on the back, but he wasn’t fooling us. She flitted forward much faster than I could have run even if I weren’t so stiff.

  As the opening act finished, the zombie jugglers tossed the shrunken heads out to lucky audience members, then ran off the stage.

  Robin said, “We’ve got to get these ghosts out of here, now.” I drew my .38, pointed the gun into the air, and fired off three shots. “Evacuate immediately! This is an emergency!” I could have shot the speakers, but too many unnaturals were crowded up close to the stage. Some of the crowd listened; the others thought it was just theatrical effects and part of the show.