Grave Dealings

by R. R. Virdi

I shut up.

  She leaned back and trained her revolver on the Night Runner’s face. Ortiz kept the gun out of arm’s reach rather than shoving it against the creature to make a show. “Now, you’re going to answer his questions.” She nodded to me.

  The dark elf arched a brow. “Or what?”

  Ortiz thumbed the hammer back. “You don’t want to die. It’s not worth it. Take a look at your pal, at what you did to him.”

  The Night Runner bobbed her shoulders in a half shrug. “He knew what he signed up for. We both did.”

  I went over to Ortiz’s side and glanced down at the elf. “Yeah, and what’s that?”

  The elf snorted.

  “Hey, you don’t have to die here. I could let my hyper-aggressive friend let you go—if you answer some questions.” I smiled.

  Ortiz flashed me a look that said I was an idiot.

  I chose to be an adult and ignored the look. “We want answers. We don’t need you. So, here’s the deal—listening? Why are you after me? Is there any way short of giving you a handgun lobotomy that we can get you to stop, and where did you get the gear? Black is sort of my thing. It’s fashionable and in. I find it slimming, and you know I’m trying to look like I take my figure—”

  “Gods and darker things—does he shut up?” The Night Runner’s eyes grew to saucer-sized orbs as she glared at me. She eyed Ortiz. “How do you put up with such an insufferable fool?”

  I blinked. I’m not insufferable.

  Ortiz gave the elf a paper-thin smile. “He’s...an acquired taste. Now, answer his questions.”

  The elf bristled and eyed us with suspicion. “How can I trust you?”

  Ortiz froze and glanced at me.

  I sank to my knees and locked eyes with the Night Runner. “You can’t, but you can trust this: if you don’t give us what we want, she’ll shoot you. You have a guarantee. It’s not the best, but your only other option is telling us what we want. Seems like a no-brainer to me.”

  The elf licked her lips. I could see her weighing the situation. She exhaled and raised one of her hands in an open palm. “There’s a price on his head.” The Night Runner tilted to look at me. “It’s worth a lot. The contract is not an open offer.”

  I pursed my lips. “Meaning you were hired specifically. Who?”

  She shrugged. “Anonymous, but this might be worth something to you mortals.”

  I waited but wasn’t rewarded.

  The elf’s smile grew. “Whoever they are, they weren’t offering financial compensation.”

  Ortiz and I traded looks. I rubbed a hand against my face, sighing from the tiresome exchange. “Then what are they paying you with?”

  Her lips peeled back to give us a smile that revealed her fangs. “Power. The kind that comes from favors. The kind few can give in the Neravene, but many crave.”

  My, that was cryptic. I groaned. “How ‘bout not being like a crossword puzzle and giving me something straight?”

  She didn’t reply.

  I went for my trump card. “The Grand Marquis isn’t going to be happy about some of his folk taking up hits and getting involved in mortal business.” I smiled.

  She threw her head back and let out a laugh. “I’m Free Folk. I can do as I please, and I’ve told you what I know.”

  So much for my trump card.

  “That’s the best I can do.” The Night Runner gave a mild shrug.

  I eyed Ortiz. “Is it?”

  Ortiz huffed in irritation. “She’s telling the truth.”

  I still didn’t know how she did it, but I wasn’t going to question her inner polygraph. When Ortiz knew, she knew. “Fine, let her go.”

  Ortiz stared at me but didn’t move.

  “Take her gun, and let her go.” I frowned. It wasn’t ideal, but it was fair. Sometimes that mattered more.

  Ortiz grumbled something under her breath but did as I asked. She hefted the submachine gun and trained both weapons on the Night Runner. “Go. Do anything funny, even look at me the wrong way, and I’ll end you.”

  My spine twisted inside my back. That wasn’t chilling at all.

  The Night Runner grinned at me and nodded to Ortiz. “I like her.” She motioned with her hand, parting the air as a violet Way opened.

  Ortiz sucked in a breath and swore.

  The Night Runner grabbed her fallen comrade by the back of his collar and dragged him through the opening. It shut as soon as they passed through.

  I exhaled and rubbed the back of my head.

  Ortiz’s eyes never wavered from the spot where the Way had shut. “So, that happened.”

  I grunted.

  “Want to explain that? I’d rather not have to beat it out of you, and I’m kind of on a roll with that.” The edges of her mouth twitched.

  “Har har.” I clapped twice. “What do you want to know?”

  “What were those things, and—be straight with me—do you know why they’re after you?” She turned her head and gave me an oblique stare.

  Ortiz had heard the same story from the Night Runner that I had. It stung to think she believed I was holding out on her. But then, it’s not like I didn’t deserve it. “You want the short version or the long?”

  She moved to the fallen submachine gun, kicking it towards me. “I don’t want my hands on that. It’s probably unregistered—illegal. I want the short story now, long later. Grab the shotgun too.”

  I paused, tilting my head at the weapon, then her. “What am I supposed to do with a couple of guns?”

  Ortiz stared at me like it should have been obvious. “Use them if—God forbid—we’re attacked again. We still don’t know what killed...” She swallowed and fell silent.

  “Yeah, okay.” I nodded and scratched my brow nervously. She was still struggling with everything. Ortiz may have been composed on the outside, but another brush with the paranormal had rattled her. Daniel’s death was prodding at her psyche, not having the grace to remain buried until this was finished. I snatched the compact weapon and moved towards the shotgun. “You know, the cops will likely be at the scene of the crash by now. I can’t exactly stuff these down my pants.”

  She shook her head. “Let me worry about that if they’re there. Answers, now.”

  I shrugged my way out of Daniel’s windbreaker, unfolding it over the ground. The shotgun fit easily within the confines of the jacket. The machine pistol slipped in comfortably as well. I lifted the bundle and tossed it over my back, tying the front of the sleeves together. “Right, I’ll explain as we walk.”

  Ortiz bowed her head in agreement and set off.

  I sprinted until I caught up to her side. “Those things were Night Runners.”

  She faced me and then rolled her eyes. “And those are?”

  “Think elves. Now think dark elves, think literally. Darker complexion as far as most people are concerned. Too many nuances to go into. They’re called Svartals. Night Runners are like Svartals’ little, not-so-distant relatives. Brothers in appearance that are more like cousins in the family tree, if that makes sense.”

  “You know the sad thing is...it sort of does.” She laughed and broke into a smile that reached her eyes. “What was that about a Grand Marquis?”

  I shuddered. Damn, did she pick up on every little detail? I chalked it up to a mixture of Ortiz being curious and her training. I grunted in disdain before answering. “He’s a lord in the Neravene.”

  Ortiz mimicked my shudder. She didn’t have good memories of hopping through Ways.

  To be honest, neither did I. Anytime I have to go through one of those means something has gone horribly wrong in my case and life.

  “So, he’s powerful?”

  I waggled my hand in a so-so gesture. “He’s a political figure for the Night Runners to rally behind. Think of him as their lord, voice, and representative to the other freestanding lords and ladies. I don’t know how involved he gets with the higher-up courts and factions.”

  Ortiz sputtered and gave me a wild-eyed stare.
“You’re kidding? There are political systems in the paranormal world? They have...what, congressmen and reps?”

  I shook my head. “No, when I said lord, I was being literal. Think old school. Monarchies, baronies, and cut-throat stuff. You don’t get elected over there. You take power.”

  She pursed her lips. “That explains a lot. So, when they said they were Free Folk?”

  “Yeah, free to do whatever and suffer the consequences. They’re not completely free though. The paranormal are bound by non-physical rules and laws governing their nature, mantles, and more. It’s complicated.”

  “Sounds like. Did you learn this through your cases or what?” She let the question linger in the air.

  “Some, yes. Other bits, no. Some of it was research. A lot of it was meeting the right, or wrong, creature. It’s part of the life.”

  “Have I mentioned your life sucks?”

  I scowled. “Why, yes, you have, multiple times now. Thanks.” I stopped myself from uttering a witty retort as I broke past the corner of the block. Red and blue lights cascaded over the wall and my eyes. I hissed. “Uh, guess you’re up, Agent Ortiz. I think I’m going to linger here.” I pointed to the ground. “Seeing how I’m carrying two—likely illegally obtained—dangerous weapons that were fired—also very illegally—in broad daylight.” I gave her a wide smile.

  She didn’t return it, deciding to frown instead. “Fine, pansy. I’ll see if I can sort this out.”

  “What are you going to tell them?”

  “The truth.”

  My heart felt cold and like it had shrunk a few sizes. “Ortiz, what’s a stroke feel like? My face is getting tingly, and my chest feels tight. Are you crazy?”

  She rolled her eyes. “We were driving. We were hit intentionally and pursued by gunmen. We have no idea where they are now. I’m going to describe them in great detail, minus their bastard, dark elf features.”

  I opened my mouth but forgot what I was going to say. It wasn’t a bad plan. I felt it best to remain hidden behind the corner, out of sight, and be there for her in spirit. “Knock ‘em dead.” I took a few cautionary steps back.

  Ortiz shook her head and passed me, rounding the corner and flagging down the officers.

  I shut my eyes and ran through a series of likely scenarios. Most of them involved running away. Counting seconds turned to minutes as I lingered around the corner and waited. My temples throbbed like they nursed a pair of heartbeats. I winced and massaged them. My hands pressed hard to my skull as the pulsing exploded into a lance of pain. It was like a skewer going through my mind. I shut my eyes and endured the agony.

  My body felt stiff, like it was in the act of resting and refused any sudden movements. Opening my eyes wasn’t an option. They fought me as I tried to take a peek. The room was dark, but I recognized it. Daniel’s bedroom. My breathing intensified—well, Daniel’s did. He squirmed and shrugged out of his covers. The room smelled of burning wood and something noxiously sweet. It was thick and choking. Daniel swallowed the saliva in his mouth, trying to alleviate the dryness in his throat. It didn’t do any good.

  A rush of chilled menthol surged down his gullet as twin orbs of burning charcoal flared to life in the dark. Something rasped like dry leaves being dragged against a metal grate.

  “She wanted this, you know?” The voice came from the source of the fiery glow.

  Daniel’s throat seized, and I felt the panic sweep across him in a torrent of cold waves. He scrambled. His neck ached; the air was cut off as cords of steel dug into it. He managed to scream.

  The borough of Queens spun into my vision like a top. I held tight to my head to steady it and stop the teetering. A low groan left my lips. I let myself lean on the brick wall. My chest heaved, and I blinked hard in the hopes of shrugging off the vision.

  Well, that was intense. I need to talk to Church about the special effects.

  I knew one thing at least: whatever that nasty was, it had gotten Daniel in his own home. So why bother making it look like a break-in? It didn’t add up. All that did was draw attention to Daniel’s disappearance and that something was wrong.

  The paranormal don’t care about the state of affairs after they kill someone. They’re not hung up on the law and investigations.

  Monsters aren’t exactly high up on the plausible explanations for a missing persons case. Shocker.

  I grimaced and swung my hand back. The base of my fist struck the wall with a dull, fleshy impact. I sighed.

  “Is this a bad time, or do you want to get into it with the brick wall? I think you’d win if you headbutted it.”

  I turned.

  Ortiz smiled as she leaned her shoulder against the wall.

  I grunted and made a simple hand gesture. “What happened?”

  She exhaled. “I explained it like I said I would. They weren’t happy, but there was no one to contradict me. The weapons didn’t come up. Everyone who saw the scene scattered.”

  “Funny how that happens when armed gunmen pop out of a car.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Can you blame them?”

  I couldn’t. It’s part of human nature. When trouble goes down, self-preservation kicks in and we scuttle for cover. Humans don’t like getting involved. We have a tendency to avoid uncomfortable truths and realities. You run from danger, not into it. I stared at Ortiz and resisted the urge to smile.

  Most of us anyhow. There are those people that face the hard things head on. They dive into danger and hope to bring as many people out of it as they can. Ortiz was one of them. I was glad to have her on my side.

  “No, I can’t blame them. So, what? As far as they’re concerned it’s a hit and run?”

  She nodded. “A hit and run with a stolen cruiser.”

  I let out a low whistle. That was brazen of the supernatural to steal a cop car. But, if the price was as high as it sounded, grand theft auto was an acceptable risk. “And what about the gunshots?”

  Ortiz shrugged. “No one reported them. We were in a parking lot with no cars, so no one was likely there.”

  I opened my mouth in a silent, “Ah.”

  She turned and beckoned with a hand. “I called Kelly, went to voicemail. I asked her to come to the apartment when she has a chance. She’s probably found something useful by now.”

  I pressed my lips tight and said nothing.

  Ortiz caught the look. “You don’t like her, do you?”

  “She’s weird.” I eyed the scene of the accident as we approached. The car had been moved to the side of the curb. Ortiz’s vehicle looked the way you’d expect it to. All four wheels were still attached, which was a plus. The passenger front fender was crumpled like a cheap can, close to hugging the tire. The door on that side was battered, and the door jamb wasn’t in great shape. I didn’t think the car would be able to drive us back. “How come you didn’t ask for a tow?”

  She groaned. “I need my car right now. Don’t start, I swear.”

  I said nothing.

  Ortiz unlocked the sedan and clambered in, eyeing me to do the same.

  I grunted and jerked on the handle. It wouldn’t budge. I banged on the window.

  “Do you really want to be banging on my window after you did this?”

  I blinked and thought about my answer. “The hell’s this my fault?”

  She turned on her seat, bringing one of her knees to her chest. Her foot crashed into the inside of the passenger door and it opened. “Every time I get in a car with you something happens!”

  I ignored her death glare and fell onto the seat. The bundle of guns flew over my shoulder as I tossed it onto the back seat. I winced, knowing that my journals had taken a small beating in the action. “Night Runners did this, not me. The first time wasn’t my fault either.”

  She grumbled under her breath before turning to me. Ortiz’s glare could’ve melted icecaps. The car’s engine let out an uncharacteristic throaty burble as it started.

  I frowned. “Sounds like your intake or exhaust mani
fold is leaking.”

  Ortiz slipped the car into drive and held the glare. “Gee, I wonder why?” The car lurched to the right further than it should’ve. Ortiz swore, her hands sliding over the wheel as she fought it for control.

  I let out a low, long breath through my teeth. “Looks like you might need an alignment too.” My eyes remained fixed ahead. It was easier to keep myself from laughing that way.

  “Vincent, have you ever been punched in the throat—hard?”

  A few seconds passed before I decided to answer the question. “I think you and I both know that with everything I go through that I have.”

  Ortiz nodded more to herself than me, still fighting the wheel on occasion. “I want you to remember that feeling. When we get back to the apartment, I’ll give you a more physical reminder.”

  “Uh, anger is like holding onto a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone. You’ve got to burn yourself before burning someone else.” I grinned.

  Ortiz ignored me, wrenching on the wheel to get it to turn far enough to the left. We rounded a street corner with a measure of difficulty, but the car ticked along. “Did you just quote Buddha?”

  I frowned. “I think it’s from a fortune cookie.”

  Ortiz looked at me like I was hopeless. She shook her head; her twitching lips made it clear she was about to break into a smile. She did. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being an idiot, on purpose.”

  I opened my mouth and stared in silence.

  “I’m not stupid, Vincent. I get what you’re doing. The jokes, the over-the-top and asinine comments, all of it.”

  I bristled in mock offense. “They’re not over-the-top.” I put a hand to my heart.

  She snorted. “You’re trying to keep me from focusing too much on what just happened. You’re worried it might cause me to slip into a bad place. The cases we worked together and their fallouts. It’s a lot, you know that. And they’re still on my mind. You know that too. Say it with me: ‘Ortiz, you are not an idiot.’”

  I said it.

  Her smile grew a fraction. “Thank you, for agreeing and for doing what you’re doing, but, you can stop. I’m a big girl. Just know I appreciate it.”