Bloody Acquisitions (Fred Book 3)

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Bloody Acquisitions (Fred Book 3) Page 9

by Drew Hayes


  If that wasn’t a cue to shut up and enjoy the ride, I didn’t know what was, so I let the subject drop and looked out at the trees. The path we were driving on was so small that the vehicle barely fit. Branches stuck out from both sides, coming within inches of scratching me. Leeroy, with his wider frame, got smacked occasionally, though he didn’t seem bothered by it. I wasn’t entirely sure he even noticed. As the trees struck, he simply sat there with the same placid expression he’d been wearing since we met. I’d met several parahumans who were considered to be incredibly powerful, but none of them had been as relaxed and cheery as Sheriff Thorgood. In an odd way, that made me even more afraid of him than the others.

  “You do remote work?” Leeroy’s voice stood out like a horn in the hypnotic rhythm of the truck’s engine. It caught me so off guard that I took a few moments to process the question, and several more to work out what exactly he was asking.

  “Depends,” I told him. “I’ve learned that most parahumans keep paper records, so I have to be on-site to process those. If they’ve gone digital, then it’s another story. Those jobs, I can do anywhere. At a cheaper rate, too, since it doesn’t take me nearly as long.”

  “Yeah, we’re still on paper,” Leeroy admitted. “Krystal says your company does a good job, though. Might be worth it to fly one of you out here come April. Dealing with the city finances is my least favorite part of this job.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a job for the town mayor, or treasurer?” Even as I spoke, I realized that I’d never actually seen a city hall anywhere in Boarback, nor had there been any mention of a governmental system. It was just the sheriff and his deputies.

  “It’s all on my plate,” Leeroy said, confirming my suspicion. “You make something, be it a kid or a town, it’s on you to look after it.”

  “Wait, are you saying you founded Boarback?” It was more surprising than shocking. After all, the town couldn’t be more than a few centuries old, and there were certainly parahumans that measured their lives in millennia. With how powerful Leeroy seemed, it made sense that he’d been around for a long while. I just hadn’t expected the town’s founder to still be working as its sheriff.

  “Seems like yesterday,” he told me. “Except for the paperwork. I’d swear I’ve done lifetimes’ worth of that. Makes me miss the old days, before there were so many forms and boxes. Someone showed up with a bill, and you either paid it or drove them off. Of course, that was before I held a respectable office, like sheriff.”

  Despite not completely understanding what he was talking about, I did my best to conjure a sympathetic nod. “April is a tight time for me, and all other accountants, but since you’re a friend of Krystal’s, I can carve out a few days to come lend a hand.”

  Leeroy waved me off. “We don’t need the boss down here; things aren’t that tough. One of your people will be fine.”

  “The company is just me and Albert, and he isn’t properly trained to do a full accounting service on his own.”

  “Oh.” For the first time, Leeroy looked a touch surprised. It didn’t last long, though. In seconds, he’d faded back to the warm, relaxed grin that was usually there. “Well then, sure, we’d gladly accept your help. I can even pay some in advance.”

  I began to protest that it wasn’t necessary, but before I’d gotten more than a few syllables out, Leeroy had produced a small glass vial. Inside were a few drops of red liquid that my base instincts immediately recognized as blood. There was something off about it, though. A curious rainbow sheen seemed to shimmer on the edges, like gasoline spilled on a lake. He tossed it to me and I caught it on reflex, my arm moving without even bothering to check with my brain.

  “Had a feeling that would come in handy,” he said. “Takes a hell of a lot to make me bleed, not even I can manage it without a proper weapon, but a few decades back, there was a rough dragon that tried to settle down in the hills. Sucker managed to get a few drops from me, so I put them away for a rainy day.”

  “This is your blood?” Even through the glass, I could smell what was inside. It smelled delicious, and savory, and strong. Much as I loathe to admit it, my mouth had begun to salivate, acting completely on its own, with no regard for propriety.

  “Sure is. Few drops will give you quite the pick-me-up. Might come in handy if those new vampires decide to cause trouble.” There was something in Leeroy’s eyes that I couldn’t quite place. Not aggression, and not judgment. Curiosity? Regardless, the vial had most of my attention. The few drops inside were so powerful I could feel them before they even hit my tongue. If I drank it, would I be safe? It was hard to imagine any other vampire being a threat, not unless they were feeding off a dragon.

  With a last long, lingering look at the blood, I tossed it back to Leeroy, who easily snatched it from the air. “Thank you, but Fletcher Accounting Services only accepts payment by check, credit card, or direct deposit, and we don’t take advances for services not yet rendered.”

  Slowly, he put the blood back in his shirt pocket, eyes never leaving me. “You have any idea what you just threw away?”

  “Power, strength, the ability to live without fear of any who might do me harm. Like I said, thank you, but no, thank you. I got a taste of that last year when an ancient dragon gave me his blood. It was more inconvenience than anything. I’m fine with what I’ve got. Maybe it falls short for a conquering vampire, but for an accountant, it’s more than enough.” My fingers were still tingling from where I’d been holding the vial, though the feeling was finally fading.

  The truck made a few more turns and had just burst into the clearing when Leeroy spoke again. The cheer had faded from his voice, and something else was there in its place. Experience, wisdom, some indefinable quality that only one who has lived far beyond mortal years is able to conjure.

  “I’ve seen many things, long as I’ve been alive. The rise and fall of countries, the very earth shift beneath our feet, the birth and death of waves of human generations, gone so quickly it’s like the flash of a firefly. Yet, in all that time, I’ve only encountered a handful of people, human or para, who had what it took to turn down power when it was before them. I think I might see what Krystal loves in you, Fredrick Fletcher.”

  Something shivered down my spine as he said my name, but by the time the willies had passed, so too had Leeroy’s shift in mood. He was smiling again as the truck began to slow, our plane already in sight.

  “Don’t you go dying on me before April, now. If I have to deal with all those finances myself, I am going to be quite annoyed. Push comes to shove, I’ll even lend a hand to keep you alive if needed. Just make sure it’s really necessary. Like one of my favorite humans said: ‘If you must hit, do not hit softly.’ I don’t pull my punches.”

  I nodded my understanding as the truck finally came to a stop and everyone began to hop out. All of a sudden, the vampires waiting back in Winslow didn’t seem quite so scary; at least, not when compared to the man who watched over the town of Boarback. The weight of his offer slowed me even as we loaded our bags back into the plane’s small cargo hold. Did he mean that I could call him in if things got too dangerous? This wasn’t a quick trip. How would he get there in time? And if he did come, how much of Winslow would be left standing when he was finished?

  Goodbyes were said, and hands were shaken. Albert and Sable exchanged e-mail addresses, while Neil stood awkwardly nearby. Leeroy pulled Krystal in for a long hug before finally releasing her, then slapped Arch heartily on the back as he snuck in one pre-flight smoke. Nax also gave Krystal an embrace, though his was more tentative than the bear hug Sheriff Thorgood had used.

  Eventually, all the pleasantries were exchanged and we boarded the plane. Neil took a window seat, downed a glowing green potion he’d mixed up in a water bottle, and promptly passed out. I wasn’t sure if he’d tried to make something to suppress nausea or to force him into sleep, but either way, given who Neil’s instructor was, I knew that what he’d taken was bound to be potent. And possibly i
llegal, though I never quite understood where alchemical potions fell in terms of drug use. Albert took the seat next to Neil, three air-sick bags already in hand, just in case, and Arch sat down across the aisle from his pupil. They’d probably spend the flight reviewing Albert’s matches with Sable and which techniques to polish, none of which interested me in the slightest. Listening to Arch talk about fighting made me understand how most people felt when I tried to explain the difference between an IRA and a Roth IRA.

  I ended up with a window seat as well, since Krystal liked to stretch her legs into the aisle while she napped. This afforded me a view of Boarback as the plane began its wobbling rise upward. We started out so low that I could see the sheriff’s truck’s headlights in flashes as they moved through the woods. Further out, the lights of Boarback’s town center glowed, a small oasis of light in a sea of dark trees. It looked peaceful, even from so far up. Maybe, one day, I would come back to this place for more than an accounting job. Maybe Krystal and I would move here when things were too dangerous, or we just wanted a more peaceful daily life.

  This was not that day, though. As the plane rose higher and Boarback faded from sight, I felt an unexpected sense of relief in my stomach. Even after only a few days away, I’d gotten homesick for Winslow, Colorado, and the people who lived there. It had been a nice vacation, but I was glad that it was coming to an end.

  Waiting vampire clans be damned, it was time for us to go home.

  A Lawyer in the Mansion

  1.

  Despite the worry with which we returned to Winslow, relatively little happened in the weeks to follow. My home was released, having been officially cleaned and cleared of all the traps Colin, the rogue hunter, had left behind. I was also relatively certain that roughly half the beers I kept in my fridge for guests had vanished as well, but since Krystal was the largest consumer of those, that was her battle to fight. Apparently, none of the Agency’s trap-detectors had much of a taste for red wine.

  For the first few days, every time my new phone rang, I was sure it would be Krystal calling to let me know that more inquires had come down and she thought I was in danger. Eventually, though, the fear subsided, and I fell back into my regular routine. This process was helped along by the fact that I was positively swamped, fighting my way back to being on schedule after the short trip to Boarback. I even had to ask Albert to skip a few lessons, so great was my need for assistance. In the hectic rush of working overtime to hit my deadlines with every client, there was little room in my mind for the more abstract fears, like what a new vampire clan in town was up to.

  Perhaps that was why I didn’t bristle with suspicion when Amy and Bubba showed up at my apartment one evening, announcing themselves with a quick phone call five minutes prior to let me know they were on their way. My instincts finally whispered that something might be up when Amy walked through the door holding a fine bottle of pinot noir, with the cork still intact. While Amy Wells was a good friend and a talented mage, she wasn’t the type to bring a bottle of wine just for a drop-in, and if she did, then she would almost always try to . . . augment it with some of her concoctions.

  “This looks lovely,” I told her, accepting the bottle because, suspicious or not, there are certain rules one is supposed to observe when playing host. “May I ask what the occasion is?”

  “We need a favor.” Bubba, at least, was a man I could always count on to cut to the quick of things. Towering over both me and Amy, he wore his usual arrangement of flannel, denim, and a beat-up trucker’s hat. Compared to an alpha therian like Richard, Bubba wasn’t much, but outside of that anomalous group, he was easily one of the biggest people I’d ever met. Also one of the most loyal and kindest, which was perhaps why Richard had been tasking Bubba with more and more assignments in recent months. Loyalty was worth its weight in gold, even in the parahuman world.

  “Way to ease him in,” Amy muttered, tossing an elbow to his ribs that I doubt he even registered. “But yeah, Bubba’s right. We need a favor. Well, actually, I need it. Well, actually, some friends of mine need it. Well, actually—”

  “If possible, can we jump ahead to the details?” I asked. Amy had small green orbs rotating around her irises, which meant she, as usual, had tried one of her own potions. Without knowing how this one impacted her mind and thought pattern, it was best to try and corral the conversation toward productive ends.

  “A mage died last week,” Bubba said. “Herbram Clover.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry for your loss. Was he a friend?” I asked Amy.

  “Met him a few times at the swap meets for spell-casters. Decent guy, but after a few beers, he could talk the ears off a sphynx.” Amy didn’t seem particularly broken up about it, though whether that was due to her own feelings or the magical concoction coursing through her blood was anyone’s guess.

  “Herbram did some work for Richard at times, along with a lot of other folks. He was a talented enchanter, very respected, very pricey.” Bubba walked over to my fridge and pulled out one of the recently restocked silver beer cans. At this point, everyone knew they were there for guests, so there was little need for formality. “Thing is, he had two children, Ainsley and Zane. He also left behind a damned hefty estate, and he actually drafted somethin’ of a will.”

  “The problem is that he didn’t get nearly specific enough,” Amy added. “All he said was that the estate was to be split evenly between his children. That’s it; that was the whole will.”

  A year prior, I might not have grasped what she was saying, but after becoming a Certified Public Parahuman Accountant and working with all my new clients, I’d learned a great deal about how parahumans regarded paperwork. Turns out that, much like regular humans, they despised it. And since they had so many ways to avoid it, very little was ever actually done. Putting all that together, I could instantly see the issue with Herbram Clover’s estate.

  “He never had any of it appraised or insured, did he? It was just a note saying to split things evenly, trusting his children to work the rest out themselves.” I knew I’d hit the nail on the head by the long draw Bubba took from his beer.

  “Right between the eyes,” Bubba replied. “It’s been a fine mess ever since. They’re bickerin’ over who gets what, what’s worth what, and meanwhile, Herbram’s business is falling apart.”

  Amy took a seat at my dining room table, although I noticed the chair seemed to move when she reached for it, rather than when contact was made. “Herbram was a friend of Richard’s, and I’ve worked with Ainsley a few times, so we got them to agree to use a lawyer who would settle the matter fairly. Problem is, she doesn’t have the numbers background to properly work through Herbram’s books, and said it would take weeks longer unless we got an accountant. Well, actually, she said it would take an extra four weeks. Well—”

  “Got it. Estate in trouble, accountant needed, and I’m one of the few in town who actually knows how to do parahuman books.” My mind raced as I tried to do some hurried guesswork. The fact that Herbram had kept books and made a will were both quite promising facts. They’d be terrible, of course—I’d yet to meet a single parahuman aside from myself who kept fastidious records—but it was still more than I was accustomed to starting with. With a lawyer to help and a confined estate to work with, there was a good chance I could get the job done in only a few days. It would be a tight squeeze, schedule-wise, but I couldn’t turn down a request from friends. Especially Richard, who I suspected might be the only reason there had yet to be any unfamiliar vampires knocking on my door.

  “If I pull a lot of overtime this weekend, I should be able to clear some space out for early next week. Assuming things are remotely in order, I’d require roughly three to six days,” I told them. “However, you’ll need to take on the job of explaining to Krystal why I’m canceling our weekend plans. That task is non-negotiable.”

  I’d expected some sort of relief or happiness at my willingness to help. Instead, Bubba and Amy exchanged a long glance between
themselves. While not the most astute reader of body language in the world, even I could tell that meant something was wrong.

  “What? Is six days too long? If the books are somewhat in order, I might be able to do it faster, but I can’t make any promises yet.”

  “No, that’s not the problem. Well, actually, it is, since they need it done soon. Well, actually, we need it done soon. Well—”

  This time, it was Bubba who cut Amy off, which I was grateful for. “Ainsley and Zane ain’t exactly the most chummy of siblings. Things are gettin’ heated the longer it goes on, and when mages get heated, that can cause trouble all around.”

  “I see. So, how soon were you hoping I’d be able to get started?”

  Bubba’s eyes darted down to the half-cracked watch on his wrist, which told me all I needed to know before he even spoke. “The lawyer was hopin’ to meet us in about an hour.”

  “An hour?” While I’d technically finished all my work for the day, having stayed at my computer through the sunlight hours to keep at it, that didn’t mean I relished the idea of zipping off into the night for a sudden job. There were still things that needed doing, and if the job took half as long as I was expecting, it would cause me to miss deadlines, something I considered an unforgivable sin for a fledgling business. “Look, you know I’m always happy to help out, but this is just too little notice. I can’t abandon everything else at the drop of a hat.”

  “Lawyer said you might feel that way, so she got the Clover children to authorize an extra fee on top of what you usually charge, for the short notice,” Bubba said.

  “I can’t imagine there’s a number that would justify me tossing my entire schedule out the window for one unexpected client.”

  That sentiment lasted exactly as long as it took for Bubba to tell me the number.

  “Then again, I suppose it couldn’t hurt to at least take a look at the books,” I said, backpedaling quickly. It wasn’t greed that motivated me so much as pragmatism. With a sudden income influx that high, I might be able to lure in some other parahuman as an employee, whether they liked the work or not. Besides, I could always forgo my daily sleep for another week or so to rebuild the lost time. I didn’t usually get loopy until it had been at least ten days without nodding off. Seriously loopy, anyway.

 

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