by Drew Hayes
There were two, and only two, candidates for who might be the baseball fan. Standing in the center of the office area, like they’d been waiting for us, were a man and a woman, both dressed in the same beige uniform as Sheriff Thorgood. The man had dark, spiky hair with what appeared to be red highlights, along with a lean frame and a sharp stare. The woman seemed entirely human, save for her eyes, which were bright yellow and a little too big for her face. Leeroy stepped forward and clapped his hands on both of their shoulders as he made introductions.
“Folks, I’d like you to meet the rest of the Boarback Sherriff’s Department. The fellow who puts too much mousse in his hair is Deputy Ixen, though you can just call him Nax. And this bright-eyed young woman is Deputy Saunders, though she just goes by Sable. For that matter, I don’t want to hear anyone calling me sheriff. I’m just Leeroy to friends. Nax, I think you’re the only one who has met Agent Jenkins.”
“Just Krystal, I get enough of that ‘Agent Jenkins’ shit in the field.” Krystal nodded at Nax, who met her gaze for only a brief moment. “Good to see you again, kid. Uniform suits you better than cuffs.”
“Joining Krystal today is her fellow agent, Arch; her boyfriend Fred; and the pair that came to meet Sable, Neil and Albert.” Leeroy pointed at each of us as he went down the list of names, making sure Nax and Sable knew who was who.
“So, you’ve got one too.” Sable started forward, coming close to Albert and then walking a bit past him to check out the sword strapped to his back. The black-and-gold scabbard that matched the hilt of his blade rested there, fixed in a harness that Arch had designed himself. Since moving to Winslow, the agent had been training my assistant on proper sword-wielding three evenings a week, and every other weekend. While no one was asking Albert to go out and start picking fights with his blade, it was agreed all around that him being at least somewhat proficient was in everyone’s best interest.
“Blade of the Unlikely Champion,” Albert told her, slowly drawing his sword from its sheath. The weapon almost hummed as it moved through the air, more magic than steel, or so we’d been told. Given that I’d seen him cut through the very enchantment that held a chimera together, turning it back into its base animals, I had no reason to doubt the assessment of Albert’s blade.
“That is a pretty one.” Sable walked across the room and reached behind one of the desks, pulling out a large single-bladed axe. It, too, was strapped into a harness, and she effortlessly pulled the weapon free from the straps and cover concealing its blade. “Mine is the Axe of the Forsaken Child. Obviously, it doesn’t have the gentlest of requirements to wield, but it packs a hell of a wallop.”
She spun the weapon easily, her years of training visible in the fluid grace of her movements. Bringing it to a stop, the bone-white blade extended outward, she moved the head of her axe closer, bit by bit, to the humming steel of Albert’s sword. Carefully, she tapped the edge of his blade against her own, and a soft, melodic tone echoed around us.
“Looks like these two get along.” Sable pulled back her axe and slipped it into its harness once more. “Sometimes they can be finicky, if the destiny of each wielder is in conflict. Good news, Albert. Looks like you and I aren’t meant to fight each other.”
“I didn’t even realize that was a possibility,” Albert said.
“All of these things are trying to drag their owners somewhere,” Sable replied. “How much we let them is on us, but there are many out there that are working toward different ends. When they touch, you don’t get a pretty chime, trust me.”
“Now that everyone, animated and otherwise, has been introduced, what’s say we go get some grub?” Leeroy suggested.
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind dropping off my bags and showering first,” Krystal interrupted. “I was sitting a little closer to Neil than the rest of us on that flight.”
The necromancer’s face went flush and he lowered his head. “Sorry.”
“Not a problem. I’ve gotten far worse on me in the line of duty. Still, wouldn’t say no to a good scrubbing.”
“All right, we’ll go to the inn, let everyone unwind and unpack, and then off to the diner,” Leeroy acquiesced. “Tonight’s special is chicken fried steak, and I’d have to arrest myself for the crime of letting you folks miss it if they run out.”
“It’s a CFS night? Hot damn, I’ll shower fast.” Krystal grabbed my hand and dragged me back out into the street, where she began shoveling the bags at me so fast that I didn’t get the chance to ask her why she was taking things out of the truck if we were about to leave the station.
3.
As it turned out, the reason Krystal had dragged all our bags out of Leeroy’s truck was that there was no need to get back in the vehicle to reach the inn. The Bristle Inn, Boarback’s one and only place of lodging, was within walking distance of the station. In fact, everything within the town square was walkable. While cars were needed to reach some of the neighborhoods and single homes further away, once a traveler was on the main street—which I learned was actually called Sunshine Lane—they needed only shoe leather to make it to any other destination.
The walk to the inn took around ten minutes, but it would have been five if Neil’s slower gait hadn’t caused everyone else to match his pace. Part of the comparative slowness was that he was one of the few humans in the group, magic-slinging skills notwithstanding, but it was also due to the fact that studying tomes of ancient magic wasn’t an activity that did much for cardio.
I’d expected the Bristle Inn to be like Charlotte Manor, quaint and dated, but in fact, it turned out to be one of the more modern buildings in town. Once we got to our room, a spacious area with a king-sized bed and a flat-screen, Krystal had explained that since Boarback got more than a few visitors in the form of agents and general parahumans, they’d invested in a nice place for people to stay. That was all she could muster before slipping into the shower, the water running so hot I could see the edge of the mirror beginning to fog within minutes.
While she showered, I unpacked my own small suitcase and changed into what I considered my more outdoors-y attire: jeans, sneakers, and a short-sleeve button down paired with a robin’s egg blue sweater-vest. My more formal clothes were quickly folded and carefully put away, which still left me with time to kill before Krystal finished her shower.
Pulling out my laptop, I was pleasantly surprised to find a Wi-Fi signal in our room, which I immediately jumped onto and began checking my e-mail. It had only been a day since the Colin incident, where I was hunted all over Winslow—a day which I’d spent hunkered down in Charlotte Manor with a laptop retrieved from my apartment, trying desperately to carve out a bit of breathing room in my work schedule. It helped that Krystal was busy setting up the trip, and that some of my parahuman clients understood that being hunted by an insane human can throw off a schedule. Still, I was barely treading water, so anything I could get done in the small bits of spare time I had would be a big help. Things were reaching a tipping point though, there was no getting around that. Either Fletcher Accounting Services would have to expand, or I’d have to start turning down work, a prospect which utterly galled me.
It’s impossible to say how long I was working before I heard Krystal’s voice making a “tsk” sound and saw a polished red fingernail begin to tip my screen forward, closing the laptop even as I hurriedly tried to save my progress.
“I did not book us this place so you could work.”
“You booked it because it’s the only hotel in town,” I countered, mercifully clicking the outdated icon of a floppy disk and shutting the laptop myself. “Good internet, too.”
“This place isn’t as podunk as you might expect.” Krystal grinned at me, and I noticed for the first time what outfit she’d changed into. A red flannel shirt tied off at the stomach, jean shorts that were far from Daisy-dukes but still quite higher than her usual sweats or slacks, all topped off with a beat-up straw hat perched atop her blonde head.
“You’re makin
g such a clear case for that,” I replied.
“What, you’re the only one who gets to dress more comfortably?” Krystal asked.
“I was actually just wondering where you were going to hide your gun.” I nodded to the black belt and attached holster lying on the bed where she’d left them. Inside was her firearm, the one accessory Krystal never left home without. Earlier in the relationship, I’d considered the practice paranoid. After a few months, I wondered why she didn’t carry two.
“That thing will totally throw off my outfit. It can stay in the room. I’ll hang a ‘Do Not Disturb’ so no one will come in and fuck with it.” Krystal turned, picked up her firearm, and set it to the side, completely missing the look of shock on my face. Fortunately, it was still there by the time she turned back, or at least, I assume it was, because she gave me a world-class roll of the eyes. “What?”
“You never leave your gun behind. Bubba took us night fishing, and you wore that gun belt over a bikini. I’ve seen you take it with you when you run downstairs to get mail. Can you blame me for being a little surprised?”
“I suppose I do have a bit of an attachment,” Krystal admitted. “That’s just prudence in my line of work. But it’s not necessary here.”
“Why not?” There was something in her eyes, something she was hiding. When it came to her job, Krystal was probably a master deceiver, but in her personal life, she so rarely said anything other than the blunt truth that it became obvious when she was trying to choose her words.
“Because in this town, we’re safe.” Krystal walked back into the bathroom, pulling out her toiletries kit and grabbing a stick of deodorant. “Aside from the petty bullshit that any place has, there’s no real crime here. No outside threats, either. You probably got a hint of how strong Leeroy is, and his deputies are no joke. Boarback is peaceful. Fun, too. After the diner, if there’s time before sunrise, we’ll hike up to Cervain’s Lake. It’s so clear you can see the moon’s reflection like you’re looking into the sky.”
Nice as that sounded, I still couldn’t help but feel like she was changing the subject, though from what, I had no idea. There was just something defensive about her excitement, like she was trying extra hard to sell me on how much she loved this place.
“And during the day, we can take the tunnels around to check out the shops. They’ve got all kinds of unique items here, handmade, the stuff you’d have to special order in the outside world. Some of the craftsmen out here are incredible; we hire them as independent contractors for the Agency sometimes. Of course, given our reputation, not many take us up on it, even with all the perks doing contract work provides. Oh, and everything is parahuman owned, obviously. They get a pretty good deal on land and lodging out here, so it’s a big sell for starting local businesses.”
At last, it all fell into place. There were many things about which Krystal would happily talk with neither prompting nor explanation, but the viability of starting a small business was not one of them. That was for my benefit, and I could only see one reason why she would bother to give me such information.
“Krystal,” I said, walking over so that she could see me from the bathroom. “I do run my own company, you know. I’m perfectly aware of what a sales pitch sounds like.”
The deodorant paused, all the confirmation I needed, then she let out a sigh and finished applying. Putting the cap back on the white chalky stick, she faced me, a rare solemn expression on her face. “This is a good town, Fred. Lots of parahumans with businesses who could use a talented accountant. Internet to let you work with your old clients. Nice, quiet people who want what you’ve always wanted: a normal, peaceful life.”
“And no hunters suddenly showing up to try and kill me,” I added.
“You think that’s why I’m trying to sell you on Boarback? Fred, that guy was a chump. If you’d had to, you could have taken him apart. He’s not—” Her words halted, and she looked away from me, just for a few seconds. “You know the vampire who made you, Quinn, was a real rat bastard, right?”
“Seeing as he tried to kill all of us and successfully ripped your throat out, I won’t be jumping to his aid anytime soon,” I said.
“Well, it turns out that he was also a real, territorial rat bastard. The reason we’ve seen so little vampire activity in Winslow is because it was considered Quinn’s, and he didn’t like to share. But word got out that he finally went too far and stepped against the Agency, so now he’s on the run. That means other vampires have begun moving back in, retaking the territory that Quinn used to hold. Places like Winslow.” Krystal walked over to the pants she’d traveled in and began digging through the pockets.
“I don’t understand, is that why you want me to relocate? Fear of other vampires? You’ve gone out of your way to tell me that we’re not all bad, that you work with several who are good people. Why does more vampires coming to town automatically make you want to hide me away?”
“Plenty of vampires are decent people,” Krystal replied, finally locating her phone and yanking it out from the pocket it was lodged in. “But you know who usually aren’t? The ones who go around seizing another vampire’s territory after he goes on the lamb. Those are the ambitious types, and they play by the belief that if you aren’t with them, you’re against them. The rumor mill worked its magic, and now lots of people know there’s another vampire in Winslow, Colorado, one who has pulled off a whole lot of impressive stuff. That’s the sort of situation where the new vamps either have to make you join, or get you out of the picture.”
“Wait, you think they’ll kill me just for living in my own town?” My voice may have leapt up a few degrees on that one. I’d gotten used to the idea that the parahuman world was a less restrained one than what humans dealt with, but offing someone just because they lived in a town you were moving to seemed a bit extreme.
“Most likely, they’d compel you to join, but you’re a smart guy. You can probably beat them at the strategy game. So then, they’ll wait for an opportunity to use a loophole in the treaties, one that lets them take offense with you. After that, they can challenge you for honor, and if you happen to die in the process, then so be it.” Krystal held her phone tightly, the edges of her fingers beginning to turn white from force. “I’ve seen it happen before. And if they do it, Freddy, then I can’t protect you. I’m an agent, and that means I have to work within the laws and treaties. I’ll have to stand there and just . . . watch.”
Moving slowly, I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a small kiss on the top of her head. Tough as Krystal was, powerful as the monster inside made her, I knew she’d said early goodbyes to too many loved ones in her life.
“That’s a lot of ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes,’” I told her. “While I’m not exactly thrilled about new vampires moving to town, we don’t know that I’ll be a target. What the vampire people are gossiping about might be something, but I’m just an accountant. There’s a good chance they won’t even care about me.”
“Not as good as you think.” Krystal turned on her phone, the glow lighting her face from below, and made a few swipes before finding what she was looking for. Stepping back from my embrace, she handed me the phone, which I picked up slowly. “That request was put in the night you met Lillian. Came less than an hour after we’d picked you up.”
Before me was an e-mail, from an address that was unrecognizable, alerting Agent Jenkins that her romantic partner, Fredrick Fletcher, had been named in a formal information request between the House of Turva and Richard Alderson. It mentioned a lot of things I didn’t understand, negotiation dates and reference numbers, but those details were irrelevant. What mattered was my name, and the people who wanted to know more about me.
“You’re on their radar,” Krystal said, likely reading the comprehension on my face. “And sooner or later, that’s a thing that will require dealing with. Richard’s a friend, and he’s not going to tell them anything you wouldn’t want known, but you run a public business, Freddy. It won’t take much
to learn who you are and where you live. Maybe it’s idle curiosity, maybe they want some taxes done, but not everyone is as kind-hearted as you. I’ve seen these things turn before, and if they’re handled carefully enough, then we agents don’t have any recourse.”
I sat down on the bed, my own body suddenly feeling very heavy. “I can’t just leave town, though. What about our friends?”
“Albert and Neil can come with us.” Krystal sat down next to me, gently taking her phone out of my hands. “This is where Arch wanted to bring them in the first place. Plenty of space and time to train, plus a fellow weapon-wielder to spar with. Bubba and Amy would stay in Winslow—he’s been climbing the ladder with Richard, and she’s too deeply rooted to just up and leave—but they’d still be able to visit us. Amy’s wares alone could sell enough to justify the trip.”
“Us?” I stopped staring at my empty hand and faced Krystal, who was only a few inches away. “You said us. Does that mean you’d come, too?”
“You know how my job works; it doesn’t matter much where I call home. And I’m already packed up anyway. Plus, I love Boarback. I wouldn’t mind coming home to it at the end of my missions, especially if my boyfriend was already here waiting for me.” Krystal leaned in closer, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “I was going to ease you into this, Freddy, not come on right away with the hard sell. We’ve got a day and a half left here, so just think it over. Take the town in; imagine what it would be like to live here. That’s all I’m asking.”
“I’ll keep an open mind.” I kissed her, partly out of affection, partly because I genuinely had no idea what else to say. Krystal made good points, and if she thought there was reason to worry, then I had no doubt there was. Still, Winslow was my home, and while I’ve never been ashamed to admit that I am a coward by nature, the idea of being forced out of my town left a hard pit in my stomach.