Grave Dealings

by R. R. Virdi

  Ortiz stared back at me. “So?”

  I nodded in silence.

  She looked relieved. A hint of color touched her cheeks.

  It took me a moment to realize how hard I was staring and whose body I was doing it in. My chest panged like it was a bell wrung by a hammer. The guilt echoed through my torso, settling in my stomach. Ortiz and Daniel had a thing for each other, and now it’d never happen. There was a part of me that wondered if she’d wished Daniel had looked at her the way I’d been doing. I swallowed and turned my head. As hard as it was for me, it couldn’t have been any easier for her. And I had no right to get any ideas while wearing his body.

  Ortiz crossed the distance between us. A glint drew my attention to her shoes—a pair of red pumps sporting golden leaves that bent towards her ankles. They were adorned with gems of pure, sparkling white.

  Lyshae had one hell of a bank account to spring for diamond-and-gold decorated shoes.

  Ortiz stopped within arm’s reach and tilted her head, regarding me. “You look good.”

  “Thanks.” My voice came out rougher than I expected. A faint glimmer pulled my gaze towards her neckline. A silver chain hung around it, ending in an ornate cross between her breasts. The ends of it were flattened, spreading into what looked like oak leaves. It was fashioned from two different metals. One was clearly silver. The other was like burnt cobalt. I didn’t recognize it. A glass bead sat in the center of the cross filled with a sangria-colored resin.

  Ortiz caught my stare and arched a brow.

  I raised my hands in defense. “I was looking at the cross—I swear.”

  “Oh, that.”

  Phew. I had a feeling that it didn’t matter much if Ortiz was wearing a functional pair of shoes or designer pumps. She could kick ass in either. I didn’t want to test the theory.

  I gestured to the cross. “When did you get holy?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve always sort of been. Grew up with it, you know? But...” She trailed off and licked her lips. “I didn’t pick this back up”—she lifted the chain—“until after the asylum. I’m not a good Catholic; more of a drive-by one.” The smile she flashed me, coupled with her outfit, sent an electric tingle through my extremities.

  I tried to rein my simpler impulses under control. “What’s a drive-by Catholic?”

  She looked away before shooting a quick glance to the sky. “You know, every time you drive by a church, you do this.” She moved her index and middle fingers over her head and chest to form a cross in the air.

  I threw my head back and laughed.

  Ortiz had the grace to flush and turn her head like she was embarrassed.

  My arm throbbed a second later. I rubbed the spot and glared at her.

  “Hey, I haven’t been to church in a long time. This is me working on getting better.” She shifted her posture and crossed her arms.

  “No judging.” I pressed my lips, trying not to burst into a second fit of laughter. “I’m not the one who goes to hell for not being a good Catholic.”

  She gave me a look that said I would be punched again if I kept it up.

  I felt it was a good point to stop.

  The remaining curtain of light fell. Lyshae had done an equally impressive job with Kelly’s attire. The young woman wore a flowing ball gown of soft periwinkle pressed with a dusting of white sequins that looked like tiny snowflakes. She wore a pair of heels that looked like they were made from golden webbing. Her hair was pinned back with a butterfly clip made of onyx and diamonds.

  I turned to Lyshae. “You paid for all of this, right?”

  “Yes.” She seemed confused about my question. “How else would I acquire the clothing?”

  “How much did you spend?” I waved a hand to Ortiz and Kelly.

  Lyshae upturned one of her hands, making a dismissive gesture. “An inconsequential amount.”

  Ortiz ground the tip of one of her pumps against the ground. “These are three thousand dollar pumps.” Her voice never wavered, like it was normal for shoes to cost that much.

  I choked on air and sputtered. Inconsequential amount. What in the world did she consider consequential?

  Lyshae made another gesture. “Consider the clothing a manner of payment, if you will, for aiding me in what’s to come.”

  Ortiz rolled her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, but her mouth spread into a grin.

  Kelly was a little less restrained. “Hell, yes.”

  I stared at them both.

  Kelly matched my look. “What? Because I walk around in jeans and sneakers, I can’t like clothes like this? Are we getting our normal clothes back?” Kelly regarded the Daoine who’d snatched up the article and piled them into a small mound.

  The Kitsune didn’t answer.

  I turned back to Lyshae. “Does this mean I can keep the suit?”

  Her lips twitched. “You may, if it lasts.”

  I didn’t get to utter a riposte as something made the meat between my shoulders shiver and tense. When you’ve done as much work hunting the paranormal as I have, you develop a sixth sense when things are about to go wrong. This was one of those moments. I whipped my head around and stared down a length of the field.

  Waist-high stalks of grass waved and shuddered like they were under a heavy gust of wind. Except the breeze blew in a different direction than that of the moving grass. A faint crackle of electricity bounded across the tips of the grass blades. It wasn’t until I saw it a second time that I believed it was real. I shot Lyshae a heated look. “You never answered me when I asked if we were on neutral grounds.”

  “Why does it—” She stopped short, catching onto what I had seen.

  “Because I think we’re about to have company.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The blue-white currents intensified. Hair-thin tendrils of smoke wafted from the tips of the grass as the electricity closed around us. A violent flash of light rocketed over the field, forming a circle around us.

  Everyone took a step closer to each other.

  “My guns!” Ortiz turned and glanced at her weapons.

  The Daoine moved at speeds that would’ve shamed an Olympic sprinter. He swept up his miniature rifle and was by Ortiz’s holsters before I could exhale. His leg snapped out, catching the leather around his ankle and sending it flying.

  Ortiz pivoted and snatched the tangled mess out of the air. She flicked her wrist. The material jerked and opened, allowing her to draw her service weapon. She released her grip and let the bundle fall at her feet. The entire exchange happened in seconds.

  I balled one of my fists, waving a hand at my side. “Kelly, get by Ortiz—now!”

  She did as I instructed, her dress whisking as she moved to Ortiz’s side.

  The Daoine positioned himself between Lyshae and me.

  Grass rustled and electric discharges sparked around us. They died as a panther-sized, marmalade cat bounded into the air.

  “Holy shit!” I took a step back before turning to dive towards Ortiz’s holster. My shoulder hit the ground at an odd angle, and the connecting tissue within strained. Nothing tore, fortunately. I rolled and clawed blindly for the holster. My fingers raked against leather. I pulled, sending the bundle towards me and drew her revolver, not bothering to get to my feet.

  The giant cat sat before us, eyeing us with the patience of a predator.

  Nobody moved. I was glad they didn’t.

  A trio of growth-hormone-abusing cats burst from the grass and landed to surround us. One resembled a marshmallow-white Scottish Fold. The one to our right was a thin, leonine-looking fella, the color of burnt umber streaked with gingerbread. The last feline was a chunky thing that could have benefited from exercise. Its fur was splotches of carob and hickory, hairs standing on end like it’d been shocked. Its tail was a tiny nub, and its end was notched. Something had bitten it into a stump.

  The marmalade cat’s chest vibrated as it let out a mrowl that sounded like a large lawnmower starting up.

 
I looked around the field. “Anyone here speak cat?” I kept the gun trained on the panther kitty. Everyone has different opinions about animals. Some people love canines and are dog people. Some people love cats. Some love both. I was once chased by a tiger made of solid gold down the streets of Manhattan.

  I like dogs.

  Lyshae raised a hand, drawing the attention of the cats. She moved to my side with relative calm given the situation. “My retainers and I were merely passing through. We carry no ill intent. What can we do for you?” Her voice made sugar seem sour.

  I eyed the surrounding cats without turning my head. Cats are apex predators in many environments across the worlds—mortal and supernatural. A simple thing like moving my head wouldn’t go unnoticed. Their muscles were tensed like coiled springs. I wasn’t sure if I could get off a shot before they jumped me, should it come to it. Kelly was only a few feet from me, and if either Ortiz or I missed, the young woman would be in a world of trouble. I exhaled and restrained myself. It wasn’t worth risking. Lyshae would have to handle it her way.

  The marmalade cat shivered. Fishing-line cracks of lightning arced over random parts of its body, dying as fast as they’d sparked to life. The cat took several steps forwards and raised its head. Air waved and rippled around it as the cat seemed to liquefy. It moved closer and grew. Within seconds, a woman stood in front of us.

  She had a feral beauty much like Lyshae. The former cat was lithe, and her slender muscles looked carved from wood. She wore a simple, sleeveless shirt of faded black and matching, loose pants. Functional clothing. Her arms crossed in scars that’d long gone white and were a sharp contrast to her tawny skin. She had Lyshae’s ears, triangular tufts of hair around a fleshy pink that protruded from the top of her head. That wasn’t what held my attention though. Her eyes were the color of polished pennies and slit vertically exactly like a cat’s.

  “Well, shit.” I turned my head a fraction towards Lyshae. “Distant relations?”

  Lyshae had the grace to offer me a thin smile and nothing more. She looked like she wanted to twist her face in revulsion. “Bakeneko,” she said.

  My mouth went dry. Every time I venture into the Neravene, things go sideways. I repressed a sigh. The cat people were seriously bad news, and I got why my relations comment rankled Lyshae. Kitsunes and Bakeneko are distantly related. Emphasis on the distantly.

  Something hard brushed against the back of my left ankle, prompting me to look over my shoulder.

  Ortiz gave a micro-nod of her head in the direction of the tawny cat-lady.

  “Bakeneko—Japanese cat demons.”

  Ortiz’s eyes narrowed. She gave me a silent look, asking me if I was kidding.

  I wish I were.

  The lead Bakeneko’s ears twitched and her eyes focused on me. Her lips peeled into a smile that showed too many teeth. Her canines were long enough to qualify as fangs. It didn’t help that she stared at me like I was a juicy burger.

  I’m nobody’s chew toy.

  The cat lady leaned to her side, staring at Ortiz. Her smile grew. So did the crazed, hungry light in her eyes. “Demon is a stretch. We’re shapeshifters.”

  That much was true. Bakeneko, like Kitsunes, could shift into a human form. Rumor had it that they could morph into another form. Something halfway between cat and human, a form that granted the best traits of both bodies without sacrificing the benefits of either. I hoped it was nothing more than wild speculation.

  Bakeneko may have shared some resemblance to Kitsunes, but they were superficial. The fox spirits were harmless pranksters at best. At their worst, they were manipulative and self-serving ass croutons like Lyshae. And Bakeneko didn’t have a best side. They were notorious hunters, killers for hire, and highwaymen of the Neravene.

  When you’ve got the sight and reflexes of a big cat, why bother working when you can take what you want?

  Bakeneko are curious, fast, and tenacious. Lore hinted at the fact they were horribly cruel things that stalked lost travelers in the woods in the dead of night. The Bakeneko would toy with them, terrifying them best they could. When they were done playing with the travelers, they’d tear ‘em to shreds and eat them. Some myths suggested Bakeneko went as far as feeding on the souls of those they captured.

  I suppressed a shiver. A pissed off monster had once tried to rip my soul out of the body I was occupying. Had it not been for Church, it would have succeeded. I remembered the pain. It was like a million barbs tearing into my flesh. I wasn’t keen on repeating the experience. My grip tightened on the revolver, and I exhaled to clear my mind. If the pussycat wanted to start something, I was damn well going to finish it.

  “You’re trespassing.” Wild ecstasy filled the Bakeneko’s eyes as she took a couple of steps forwards.

  Lyshae tensed and forced a smile. It looked like she was trying to stretch stone. “Oh, I wasn’t aware this land was claimed.” It wasn’t a convincing lie.

  It took me a second to realize it wasn’t supposed to be. Oh, crap. I hope you know what you’re doing, Lyshae.

  Lyshae pursed her lips and bent forwards slightly. She looked around the field in mock astonishment. “As far as I know, no one has dominion over this. No lord, nor any lady of the Neravene has claimed these empty fields as theirs.” She straightened and gave the Bakeneko a sideways look, shooting her a taunting smile. “Are you perchance a lady of the Neravene? Did you claim this?” Her mouth parted into an O.

  The Bakeneko’s ears stiffened, and her fingers flexed.

  I could’ve sworn her nails had lengthened for a split second. I blinked and focused on them, but they appeared normal. That was reassuring...

  “No answer?” Lyshae put a hand to her mouth to stifle the small laugh. She was goading the Bakeneko. They weren’t the kind of creatures to forgive and forget. They were hot tempered and took light teasing as a personal offense. This wouldn’t end well.

  The marmalade Bakeneko leaned forwards, throwing her arms out in a challenging manner. Her mouth parted and she let out a hiss. The cats around us echoed it. “Of course not. None of us are lords or ladies, including you.” She jabbed a finger at Lyshae. “No one has protection—you’re fair game.”

  Guess that settled it on what the Bakeneko were doing here. They were robbers, here to relieve us of our possessions. And I had just gotten the fancy suit.

  Lyshae didn’t seem the least bit upset by the Bakeneko’s declaration. I thought about it and realized she wasn’t worried earlier either. Her irritation at wanting us to speed up was nothing more than an act. She had known this place was a targeted spot for bands of Bakeneko. This was planned. She wanted us here.

  Bitch.

  I turned and glowered at the Kitsune.

  She didn’t pay me any mind. Lyshae waved a hand in a bored manner. “We are fair game, yes. That does not mean we are easy prey.” Lyshae smiled before snapping her teeth at the air. Her smile widened when the Bakeneko flinched.

  A sound like a camera shutter snapping went off. Everyone turned to the source. Kelly held her phone in the direction of the female cat-lady. Her hands shook as she took another photo.

  Ortiz glanced at Kelly out of the corner of her eyes but said nothing.

  The Bakeneko woman had plenty to say however. “What is the mortal doing?”

  There was another digital snap. Kelly licked her lips and looked at the other cats before answering. “Taking pictures for my blog.”

  The Bakeneko blinked several times and tilted her head like Kelly had made a string of strange sounds. Her fingers flexed, and the ends of her nails darkened for a second before returning to normal.

  I gulped, realizing that I had been right earlier when I thought I’d seen them lengthen. They had some tricks up their sleeves. But, if I knew Lyshae like I thought I did, she’d have a few of her own. I hoped they were better.

  Lyshae advanced towards the Bakeneko’s leader. The action elicited a chorus of resonating burbles from the surrounding felines. Lyshae paid them no mind.
“If you attack us, we will be within our rights to defend ourselves. This land is unclaimed but well-traveled. It’s a popular path to an important location. That’s why you prowl these grounds and target passersby, no?”

  The cat-lady said nothing but one of her ears twitched in agitation.

  Lyshae knew what she was doing. She pressed further. “If you run roughshod over these paths long enough, they will fall into disuse—open to being claimed.” The Kitsune’s mouth spread into a wolfish smile. “Someone’s trying to curry favor with a certain lord, aren’t they?” She waggled an admonishing finger at the Bakeneko.

  The feline-looking woman recoiled a step and gnashed her teeth. “What if I am?”

  “It’s pathetic. He wouldn’t notice you anyhow. You’re trash.” Lyshae’s tone was acidic enough to eat through stone.

  I sucked in a breath. This was not the time for Lyshae to be starting a literal catfight. Her last comment had sounded personal.

  The Bakeneko’s leader shook. Her fingers splayed as they extended and tapered into dangerous points like claws. Her cheeks sprouted a small coat of marmalade fur at the fringes and her eyes gleamed. “Kill them.”

  Dammit, Lyshae.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Guttural rumbling sounded around us. Cats leapt towards us. The air exploded with deafening roars.

  Ortiz and the Daoine fired in staggering succession. The difference of caliber in their rounds was like two sets of percussion instruments being played in a jarring overlap. Their bullets hit home.

  The air around the three cats shivered like it was made from plastic sheets. Their forms collapsed, leaving behind nothing. Illusions. Blades of grass waved and shuddered.

  Oh crap.

  The three real cats burst from their hiding spots, rushing towards us and keeping their profiles low.