by R. R. Virdi
A light above the elevators flashed as one of them stopped on the floor. The doors parted, and I rushed to hop in. I stopped as the woman exiting nearly bumped into me. “Ortiz?”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Of course. I bump into you just like that.”
She took the words right out of my mouth. I gave a thin smile. “Yeah, I’ve got an uncanny sense of luck.”
Ortiz grabbed the front of my jacket and pulled.
I stumbled into the lift. “What gives?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve already found something, haven’t you?”
It was disturbing how she did that. “Yeah, bumped into Ashton, like you said. Found some things out.” I jabbed a thumb against the button to take us to the ground floor. The elevator shuddered into movement, and I leaned against the panel. “You get Kelly somewhere safe?”
Ortiz grunted with nigh-masculine skill. “What did you find out about whatever it is we’re after?”
We’re. Just like that and we were back to normal—sort of. I didn’t know how to feel about that. I wanted her help. I wanted her to be safe. I wanted her to forgive me. Three things. I didn’t know how many of them I’d actually get. The lift made it down a floor before I was able to say, “How about I tell you what I saw first?” I turned my head to glance at her.
She crossed her arms, leaning back against the nearest side of the elevator. “Sure.”
I told her everything.
The lift made it to the ground floor before she processed it all. “Wow. That is a lot of strangeness to make sense of.”
A lopsided grin spread across my face. “That’s the name of my autobiography.”
Ortiz snorted and moved towards the doors as they opened. “Don’t expect a lot of sales.”
My face scrunched, and I sniffed in mock indignance. I’m best-seller material. I waved a dismissive hand and fell in step beside her. “Anyway, I’ve got enough to start putting things together...” I exhaled, shutting my eyes.
“But?”
“But what I’ve got isn’t looking good. It’s giving me more questions than answers.”
Ortiz sped up, gesturing with a slight turn of her head. “Tell me about it in the car. I’ll give you a ride back. We’ll make a pot of coffee and go over that journal of yours. It’s got to have something in it, right?”
I shrugged. It had a lot in it. That didn’t mean it had the right answers. The thing about knowledge is, well, there’s so much of it out there. Sometimes what you know can get you killed. Other times, it’s what you don’t know that gets you tossed into a shallow grave.
Ortiz led the way to the visitor parking lot. We passed a few rows until she came to a stop next to a mid-sized gray sedan that blended in with every other car in the lot. She pulled the keys from her pocket and unlocked the vehicle. “Get in.”
I obliged in silence, plunking into the passenger seat. The dash smelled of vinyl polish. The seats had that rigid feel, implying they hadn’t been broken in yet. I let out a low whistle as I looked around. “New car, huh? Spiffy.”
“Yeah.” Something in her voice changed, becoming like sharpened stone. “Crazy accident happened to my last car.”
I gulped.
“It blew up, would you believe it?” She leaned forwards and eyed me. “A fireball hit it, and some freak of magical nature—” Ortiz stopped, clapping her hands together before parting them in a dramatic mimic of an explosion. “What are the odds?”
I shrank in my seat and mumbled under my breath.
“What was that?” Ortiz shot me a glare as she started the car.
“Sorry, but that happened over a year ago. You’ve got insurance. Not to mention you work for the government.”
“Do you know how hard it is to explain an incinerated car to an insurance claims agent?”
“Do I look like I have insurance?” I matched her stare, refusing to back down. “And are we seriously arguing about this right now?”
She smiled. “I know.” Ortiz reached out and gave me a gentle prod. “Something to lighten the mood for a sec. This stuff always gets so...” She trailed off and put the car into reverse, easing us out of the parking spot.
“Yeah, it does.” I turned to look out the window, resting my head against it. My knuckles tapped against the glass in a staccato beat as Ortiz shuttled us along. “Part of the job. There’s a lot of grim and dark to it. Doesn’t mean there’s not light here and there.” I leaned over and flashed her a quick smile before falling back against the door.
“I could use a bit of light right now.” She sounded like she’d churned gravel and cement in her throat.
“Lizzie’s doing fine—great actually. Remember her? The little, adorable, spacey-headed girl we saved?”
A wide smile broke across Ortiz’s face. “Yes, I do. She’s an interesting child. I’m glad though. Thanks for telling me.”
We exited the lot, and I let my eyes succumb to fatigue. They drifted shut, letting me sort through everything I had found out. A faint pang filled my ribs and I groaned. “What?”
“Don’t pass out yet. I need info.”
I grumbled incoherently, and my ribs panged again. “I need a nap.”
“Sleep when you’re dead.”
“I can’t. I don’t even get paid for this job. I need a union—for me.”
A series of light breaths left Ortiz’s mouth in what I could only assume was a poorly muffled laugh. “Good luck with that.”
“Hater.” I squirmed into an upright position, allowing the scenery to become a blurred swath of grays and burgundy. A deep sigh left through my nose before I felt comfortable dredging up what else I’d learned. I told her everything I’d heard from Ashton, Anna, and Timothy.
Ortiz suppressed a minor convulsion. “That sounds a lot like our first case together.”
“Minus the red mist and vanishing into mirrors, yeah.” I made sure Ortiz heard that. She had a point, but I was going to make sure she knew it was the wrong one. That first case put her through a horrible wringer. Ortiz needed to know this wasn’t a repeat. She may have moved on, but every nightmare leaves a bit of itself lodged in the back of your mind. They’re just waiting for the right tug to resurface. Sometimes it comes from external sources. Sometimes you’re the one to dredge them up.
I wasn’t going to let that happen. “Hey, remember, no soot. And I don’t think anyone’s dug up a vessel for an ancient and malevolent spirit lately.” I squinted and gave her a comical look. “Have they?”
She laughed. “Not that I’ve heard of.” Ortiz slowed the car to a stop at the intersection.
I exhaled, loosening my shoulders as I sank against the seat again. “Good. Look, I don’t know what’s doing this, but I know what it isn’t.”
Ortiz made a sound that could have been a snicker.
I glared at her. “Not knowing is just as useful sometimes. No use chasing down the wrong leads, right?”
She sobered and gave me a nod as the light turned green. “Good point.”
I have those on occasion. Too bad I didn’t get to savor the occasion. We accelerated, making it to the middle of the intersection when the world jerked to the left. The sound of crashing metal and polyurethane is unmistakable. It’s a cacophony of plastic crunches and screeching metals. The world snapped to a halt, juddering my bones and my noggin.
The raucous bellow of horns and panicked screams pulled me from the dazed reverie. “Ortiz?” The airbags hadn’t gone off. It was a small blessing. Those things knock more people out than accidents at times. I shook my head clear and fidgeted with my seatbelt. A look out the window showed me a white sedan often used by police officers. The front was reinforced with a metal ram.
This wasn’t an accident. The thought galvanized me into action. I let the invisible surge rush through me as I freed myself from my belt and did the same for Ortiz. I gave her a gentle shake. She responded.
“Ugh, the hell?” Ortiz cradled her head.
“Accident. Get out. No
t an accident. Move!” My rapid-fire comments snapped her into clarity and she heeded my words.
Ortiz opened her door, and I scrambled over the center console, moving to follow her.
The police car’s doors opened and two people exited. They weren’t officers. Wonderful. Our assailants were in black rugged-looking pants and matching tops. They wore ballistic vests and armored helmets. It looked like they had plundered riot gear.
Ortiz gawked.
“Less staring, more running!” I tugged on her sleeve, prompting her to follow me down a side street. “Please tell me you’re packing a silly number of guns?”
She eyed me like I was an idiot for asking. “After everything you’ve put me through—yes. But I keep most of them in my car!”
Well, that sucked. I cast a look over my shoulder as my feet hammered against the street. One of the pair drew and tucked a pump action shotgun to their chest. The side of it sported a pouch. I could make out the tips of the ammunition. The thing had a pistol grip attached.
The second of the pair unfolded the stock of a compact submachine gun. A second magazine was fastened to the first with a simple bracket. It looked like something from a movie. Fortunately, they weren’t stupid enough to start firing in the middle of daylight at an intersection.
They’d wait till they cornered us somewhere. Then they’d kill us. Yay for being procedural.
Ortiz reached into her jacket, freeing her pistol from her holster. “Who are they?”
“How should I know?” I gave her a brief look of irritation.
“Who did you piss off this time?”
I snarled. “I didn’t piss anyone off!”
“You’re always pissing someone off.”
My snarl faded, and I gave her a flat look. “Yet. I haven’t—yet.” I stopped short, nearly fumbling when I glanced at Ortiz’s gun. It wasn’t the Glock she had leveled at me before. It was a polished revolver that would make anyone think twice about messing with her. “Where were you hiding that?”
She gave me a wolfish smile. “Holster against my lower back.”
“You scare me.”
Her grin widened before slipping away. “We can’t start a firefight out here. Someone could get hurt.”
I nodded in agreement. “Can we focus on it not being us first?”
She eyed me and took the lead, steering us down a path between two single level buildings. Ortiz slowed and rounded a corner.
I huffed and followed her, hoping she knew what she was doing. My hope turned into an acidic salve against the lining of my throat when I crossed the corner. “It’s a parking lot. A dead end.”
Ortiz turned without acknowledging me. She backpedaled several steps, her eyes fixed on the entry point—where I stood.
I rushed to her side. “What in the hell are you—”
Thunder cracked, and I flinched.
The pursuer with the shotgun jerked. Ortiz’s first shot struck the attacker’s vest, staggering them. The second round cracked off. The assailant’s leg went out from underneath them and they impacted the brick wall. A spiteful hiss came from the wound above their knee. Blood trickled, steaming as it exited the bullet hole.
I couldn’t see their expression through the helmet, but the way they were fixed on the injury made it clear they didn’t have a clue what was going on. I did. Blood doesn’t tend to sizzle when you’re capped. Not unless you’re something that goes bumpity-bump in the night. I eyed Ortiz.
“Nice shot. The hell are you using anyway?”
She flashed me a smile that was all teeth. “Hollow points. Copper and steel jacket.”
I let out a low whistle. Steel and iron did funny things to creatures from the paranormal world.
The figure struggled, planting the tip of the shotgun against the concrete. They held hard to it. It wasn’t doing them much good with their leg mangled. They realized that and settled for hefting the weapon and aiming it towards Ortiz.
She didn’t like people pointing their weapons at her. Ortiz took that personally.
I couldn’t blame her.
She fired twice in quick succession. Two rounds struck within a penny’s distance from one another; too bad both hit the vest. They drove the attacker flat against the ground.
They flailed and struggled to shift to their side.
I ran towards him.
“Stop!”
I did, turning to stare at Ortiz. “What gives?”
“Look where they’re pinned.”
I looked back, but couldn’t make out the point Ortiz was talking about. My shoulders rolled back in a shrug as I gave her a quizzical look.
“They’re on the ground, in view of the alley leading here. Their partner hasn’t shown up. They were chasing us together. How much do you want to bet their partner is at the other end of the alley?”
I blinked, swallowed, and turned to stare back at our attacker. She had a point. The thought never crossed my mind. I put a hand to the side of my mouth. “Hey, ass trinket!”
Somehow the bad guys always know when you’re talking to them, even when you’re slinging insults. It’s nice.
The attacker shimmied and turned to brush the armored face mask up. A pair of yellow eyes came into view.
I sighed. “Again? Seriously, what did I do to you freaks?”
The Night Runner managed to raise a single hand, giving me a gesture that needed no translation.
Ortiz crossed the distance between her and me, coming to my side. “You want me to break that finger?”
I snorted. “You’re hot when you’re all angry and threatening.”
She shot me a glare that could’ve turned steel into slag.
I swallowed what I was about to say in favor of something else. “Take your helmet off and give us some answers.”
The Night Runner removed its helmet. They had the androgynous features that most of their race did, leaving me puzzled as to their gender. “Or what?” They racked their throat and spat at the ground. A globule of pinkish white struck the concrete.
“Or I let her do what she does best.” I grinned and hooked a thumb to Ortiz.
She moved on cue, taking a step closer to the Night Runner and training her gun at its skull.
“Do you think I’m afraid of dying?” Their lips spread into a thin, strained smile. A crazed light filled their eyes.
“No, I don’t. But I think steel hurts a helluva lot, and she’s packing enough to make the remaining time you have pretty uncomfortable.”
Their eyes widened.
Ortiz took over the interrogation. “Where’s your partner?” She managed to keep her eyes focused on the Night Runner while still paying attention to the mouth of the alley. It was an impressive level of awareness.
I needed to learn that.
The Night Runner smiled, sticking their tongue out between their teeth. Their mouth opened wider before snapping shut. They didn’t bother to pull their tongue back. The Night Runner’s mouth gnashed until most of their tongue fell to the ground.
Ortiz leapt a step back. “Jesus.” She pointed the gun at the creature, unsure what to do.
Blood dribbled over the Night Runner’s bottom lip. Their mouth spread into a macabre smile.
Invisible metal cords seized my arms, causing them to throb and flare. I snarled and stormed over to the Night Runner. I sank to a knee, twisting to lash out with a fist. My hand connected with the side of their skull, driving the elf’s face into the ground.
“Vincent!”
My collar tightened around my throat and I choked. The world pulled away from me as I stumbled back. Ortiz didn’t let up on her grip, and I backpedaled the best I could.
A sound like popping bubble wrap through a megaphone filled the parking lot. A burst of bullets hammered into the Night Runner’s body. Three buried themselves along the side of their head. The Night Runner went limp.
I would’ve been caught in that if Ortiz hadn’t hauled me back. “Thanks—whoa.” My legs crossed as I was shoved to t
he side. I swung my arms and tried to regain my balance.
Ortiz sidestepped me, moving in a semi-circle to get closer to the corner without breaking her cover. She peeked and snapped back as a torrent of bullets cracked against the brick and concrete.
A shrill cry echoed down the alley. The second black-clad figure hurtled into view. They pivoted and faced Ortiz with insect-like reflexes. The attacker sank to one knee, placing a hand on the ground and lashing out with a boot.
Ortiz took two steps to the side and swatted at the boot with her open hand. She batted the blow aside and leveled the gun. Ortiz fired blind.
The Night Runner’s left shoulder and torso snapped back. They fell to their bottom before rolling onto their back.
Ortiz didn’t slow, seizing the shift in combat and using it to her favor. She rushed the fallen elf and slammed her heel into the helmet. Ortiz’s leg was like a hydraulic piston, driving the helm into the ground with a crack.
Supernatural or not, they had to have felt that. The Night Runner’s ears would be ringing.
Ortiz’s leg cracked out, sending the tip of her shoe into the Night Runner’s unprotected chin. Her strike drove the back of their head against the concrete again.
I made a mental note to lighten up with the annoying comments around Ortiz. At least for the time being.
Ortiz dropped to a knee, gripping the helmet and wrenching it free.
The Night Runner had sharper, more angular features than the last. I wanted to take a chance that it was a woman. Her hair was shaved at the sides, leaving a long mane trailing at the back.
The she-elf flashed me a heated look before staring at Ortiz. “Get your whore off me.”
I exhaled through my teeth and shut my eyes. A wet crack rang out, not unlike a fist crashing into a certain elf’s face. I opened my eyes and peered at the scene.
Ortiz shook her hand and balled it again.
The Night Runner licked the corner of her lips, mopping up a splotch of blood. “Is that the best you can do?”
I sighed. Some people can’t help but antagonize others. I kept my eyes open as Ortiz’s second punch forced the Night Runner’s head to the side. I clapped. “Nice punch.”
Ortiz grunted.