A Date with Death

by Scott Colby

  Turning to Driff, Kevin covered his mouth with his hand. “Is she…magic?”

  The elf didn’t bother to lower his voice or disguise his response. “Magic? No, she’s real.”

  Kylie sighed and planted her hands firmly on her hips. Kevin had seen that stance often enough to know exactly what would come next. Those beautiful brown eyes would slowly roll as she clicked her tongue and reached up to toss her hair with her slender left hand. Then her gaze would focus not on Kevin’s face but at some far-off point just over his shoulder, as if she were addressing not a single frustrating man but lecturing an entire crowd of uncouth louts, and the pitch of her voice would drop two octaves as she steadily tore him a new one.

  But she didn’t do any of those things. The tightness in her shoulders and arms faded, and a gentle smile softened her face. “You must be Council of Intelligence Driff,” she said warmly. “I’m Kylie Bonaventure. Kevin and I dated for several years.”

  “And then you abandoned him for some rich old geezer when he lost his job. I’ve heard the story.”

  The Kylie Kevin remembered would’ve cut Driff’s balls off for that. This new version took it in stride and continued her greeting. “Tallisker and the Roberts family thank you for your attendance this evening. Please, follow me.”

  She spun on her heel and stalked away, one hand still planted on her provocatively swaying hip. Kevin put his hand out to stop Driff from following.

  “Did you know about this?”

  “No.” The elf adjusted his spectacles. “Tallisker’s just trying to get under your skin. They like to keep people off-balance and afraid. By bringing her here, they’re merely trying to remind you who’s in charge in their particularly convoluted way.”

  A disturbing thought occurred to Kevin. “Is she a hostage?”

  Driff shook his head. “If she is, she’s the calmest hostage I’ve ever seen. It’s possible she could’ve been dusted, but that’s not really Tallisker’s style. They’d rather forcibly bend people to their cause than simply remove a few mental roadblocks. At first glance, I’d say she’s here of her own free will.”

  Kevin scratched his head and looked back toward his ex, wishing he knew more about these shady Tallisker people. None of this made any sense.

  “Be on your toes, Felton,” Driff said as he brushed past Kevin and continued toward the Roberts estate. “I don’t like this.”

  Kevin followed, keeping a few paces behind Driff so the elf was between him and whatever they were walking into. Driff’s concern multiplied Kevin’s own by a factor of a few dozen; his common sense told him that it was time to run, that he’d gotten himself in so far over his head that he’d never find his way out of the pile of shit into which he’d blindly stumbled. Forcing himself forward, he let his gaze wander to Kylie’s long, graceful legs, his face flushing as he thought about how much he hated the woman they belonged to. His stomach twisted into a knot when he realized he hated Kylie simply because he missed her, her myriad faults be damned. He clung to his time with Nella like an alcoholic clinging to the last can in his six-pack, but a flood of doubts loosened his grip. What future could there be, really, for a human and a water nymph? Could two people from completely different species—hell, two mutually exclusive worlds—ever have anything remotely resembling a normal relationship? Kevin didn’t really want to have to move to the middle of the woods, and he doubted Nella would be comfortable in a house. Would she accept having to disguise herself whenever he wanted to go out, or would she grow to resent him for dragging her to places where she had to conceal her true form? He hated himself for not knowing all the things he didn’t know, for doubting all the things he doubted, for letting his confidence become shaken so badly by the woman—no, an open wound—he’d thought he’d never lay eyes on again.

  Kevin shook his head, trying to focus. If Tallisker truly wanted to knock him off his game by thrusting his ex-girlfriend in front of him, they’d certainly succeeded. But why the fuck would they want to do that? Weren’t they the ones ultimately paying for his assistance in bringing the local reaper back in line? Trying to work it all out made his head hurt.

  Kylie smiled back at them as they climbed the marble steps leading up to the double front doors, sending a chill down Kevin’s spine. He hoped he wouldn’t have to sit next to her. He hoped Driff wouldn’t leave them alone together. He hoped he’d be able to hide in a corner and watch her from afar. He hoped his suit pants were sturdy enough to conceal the boner that got harder the more he looked at her. In reality, though, he knew none of those things was likely to happen.

  “This way, gentlemen,” Kylie said as she thrust the doors open with a mighty shove. Kevin flinched away from the gold flash that burst out into the night from inside the Roberts estate, temporarily blinded by the sudden brightness. When his vision cleared and the scene before him solidified, he gasped and took a step backward. The room beyond the open entrance wasn’t the expansive foyer of Ren’s home, it was the small, cozy living room of a log cabin at some cheesy winter resort. Deer and elk were mounted on every wall, save for the spare real estate above the fake fireplace, which was adorned with a decapitated, snarling bear. To the left, a staircase led to a balcony and, presumably, a series of rooms on the second floor. Two dozen or so people filled the room, the scales tipped toward the male side by two or three individuals. The dress code appeared to be a choice between fleece or terrible sweaters trimmed with blocky snowflakes or crooked skis. Everyone clutched a steaming mug of cocoa, although their glazed expressions and slouched postures betrayed the heavy alcohol hidden in their seemingly innocent beverages. Raucous laughter echoed out into the night as they showed their appreciation for some joke the newcomers had just missed.

  “Well,” Driff said, “that’s not quite what I expected.”

  “And my gold-digging ex is as overdressed as always,” Kevin muttered.

  Kylie whirled on Kevin, that nuclear glare he knew so well preparing to leap forth from her fiery eyes. “What was that, Kev?”

  “The company you keep—I’m impressed, as always.” It had been months since he’d had to pull something like that out of his ass, but the sudden softening of Kylie’s features told him he hadn’t lost his vaunted ability to placate her with total bullshit.

  “They’re lovely,” she said coolly. “You first, boys.”

  Taking a step closer to Kevin, Driff placed an iron hand on his companion’s lower back. “Might as well get this over with,” he whispered. “Step through that doorway quickly, lingering on the threshold, or turning back, would not be good for your… consistency.”

  “Magic?” Kevin asked, his eyes wide.

  “Yes,” the elf said as he ushered Kevin forward. “Very expensive, very dangerous magic that’ll sprinkle your molecules between here and wherever the fuck that is if you don’t do as I say. Just another silly demon game.”

  The marble floor of the porch was too smooth for Kevin’s heels to dig into as he fought to stop their advance. “Demons?” he snapped.

  “Demons,” Driff said. “We’ve been over this. Humans twisted by evil deeds into terrible new forms. But don’t worry: most of them are pretty tame these days. Deliberate, purposeful evil pays better than random acts of violence.”

  Driff sent Kevin tumbling across the threshold with a quick push. Kevin bit back a groan as he passed through what felt like a wall of static electricity—the parts of him in the cabin losing and then regaining communication with the parts of him back in Harksburg, he assumed. The sensation was enough to ruin his balance and cause him to land hard on his side. Embarrassed, he pulled himself to his feet as quickly as he could.

  Ed Roberts moved to help him. Ren’s father had the look of an old weatherman: balding, short, but equipped with a bleached smile and a warm voice that could make a sunny forecast sound like a gift from the gods. Equipped with a mug of spiked cocoa and a terrible blue and white striped sweater over a pair of khakis, he fit right in with the rest of the crowd.


  “Felton!” he shouted gregariously, as if announcing the winner of a horse race. “Glad you could make it, son!”

  “Wouldn’t miss it!” Kevin replied as he accepted Ed’s vigorous handshake. Because if I’d missed it, my liver would probably be the main course at the next one, he added to himself.

  Ellen Roberts appeared beside him, short and blonde and bubbly in pink designer ski wear. Red wine sloshed over the rim of her glass as she extended her own limp hand. “Good to see you.” Her bright blue eyes shifted to something beyond Kevin’s shoulder and she stood up on her toes to peek over him. “Ah, and this must be the Council of Intelligence!”

  Driff was just stepping through the door when Mrs. Roberts swarmed him. He eyed the short woman like an art critic might a child’s finger painting. “So I’m told,” he grumbled.

  Undeterred, Ellen hooked her elbow through the elf’s and dragged him toward the rest of the party. Mr. Roberts nodded and winked at Kevin and followed.

  “Tell me, darling, what’s all the rage in Evitankari these days?”

  “Well, I know a guy who makes a really interesting pound cake…”

  Kevin took a deep breath as he tried to focus on the scene before him. He quickly scanned the room, trying to pick out the demons. The bearded, balding guy in the blinking reindeer sweater? The large woman picking at the cheese plate in the corner? The couple canoodling on the couch? The bored yuppie in a flannel shirt who looked like he’d rather be out on the golf course? And—the thought made Kevin shiver—what about Ren’s parents, or even Ren himself? Or Kylie? Try as he might, he couldn’t spot any sign that any of these people were anything other than what they seemed to be.

  The door behind Kevin slammed shut, shocking him back to reality. He turned to find Kylie smiling at him mischievously, her hand lingering gently on the heavy brass knob of the thick front door. Through the windows on either side he could see a foot of snow on the cabin’s front lawn. He certainly wasn’t in Harksburg anymore.

  “Northern Minnesota,” Kylie said warmly. “The middle of fucking nowhere.”

  “Not really your kind of place.”

  She raised one slender eyebrow as she sauntered past, swaying close enough to ensure he got a thick taste of her familiar perfume. The scent of lilacs sent his head spinning. “Oh, you’d be surprised,” she cooed.

  Kevin couldn’t help himself. “Anywhere there’s money, huh?”

  That stopped Kylie in her tracks. “Used to be,” she admitted. “I always thought the money was what I wanted, but it turns out cash is just a means to an even better end. It’s all about the power, Kevin, and these people have it all.”

  “Ren!” Mr. Roberts suddenly bellowed, his attention on the second floor balcony. “Your friends are here!”

  A muffled curse replied from above. Had Ren been trying to avoid Kevin and Driff, or just the party in general? His best friend had a lot of explaining to do.

  “Try to cheer your friend up,” Kylie said evilly. “He’s being a little bitch.” And with that, she joined the rest of the party in the center of the room, heading for the gaggle of middle-aged ladies bombarding the befuddled Driff with questions about elven fashion.

  Kevin shook his head as Ren made his way sullenly down the stairs. He’d dressed in a gray sweatsuit, his hair uncharacteristically unkempt.

  “Someone’s acting out,” Kevin said.

  “And someone’s overdressed,” Ren snapped, smiling tentatively. “Trying to match Kylie?”

  “I was hoping to make her jealous so she’d beg me to take her back and I could tell her no just for the fun of it. Looks like that plan’s a failure.”

  Ren nodded. “Unless you’ve got a tail, a set of horns, and a summer home in Monaco, you’re probably out of luck.”

  They shared a quick laugh. Ren cut Kevin off before he could counterattack. “I’m sorry they dragged you into this, by the way.”

  “Dragged me into this?” He leaned in close and lowered his voice. “I’m the one who stole you-know-who’s you-know-what. I should probably be apologizing to you.”

  Ren shook his head. “I don’t think you understand. This little shindig isn’t about you or Driff or Billy or any of that garbage we’ve been dealing with the last few days. It’s about me, plain and simple.”

  A squeal from across the room interrupted Kevin’s next question. “Strip poker!” a bubbly middle-aged blonde shouted gleefully as she led Ren’s parents and two other couples toward the small table against the far windows.

  “Now the party’s really getting started,” a conservative older gentleman with gray hair said as he approached Ren and Kevin. Deep wrinkles creased his square face, but his eyes burned with youthful energy. A happy snowman smiled dumbly from the center of his red sweater. “Charles Demson,” he said as he extended his hand to Kevin.

  The man’s grip was tight as a vise and ice cold. “Kevin Felton.”

  “Ah, the young man helping out with Harksburg’s little reaper problem. I hear good things about you, Felton. Very good things indeed.”

  Good things? Kevin had no idea what Demson was talking about, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Thank you, sir. Just doing my part.”

  “As we all must.” Before Kevin knew it, Demson’s arm was around his shoulders and the older man was steering him toward the table of hors d’oeuvres in the corner. Kevin couldn’t help feeling like he, Driff, and Ren were being intentionally separated. “Caviar? Littlenecks? Perhaps a glass of champagne or brandy? I’m afraid we drank all the cocoa.”

  There was quite a spread on the table before him—various cured meats, strange cheeses, and enough liquor to fill an in-ground swimming pool—but the thought of sampling any of it turned Kevin’s stomach. “I’m fine for now, thank you. So…ah…what’s the occasion?”

  “Success!” Demson replied. “They say such a thing is its own reward, but the people who spout such drivel have never been to a good party, eh?”

  “You do have a point.”

  A triumphant shout from the poker game momentarily caught their attention. “I win!” Ren’s father declared. “Off with your pants, Marie!”

  A brunette with thick plastic lips stood up and unclasped her gaudy white belt. “I’ll get you next time, Eddie!” she slurred as she shoved her jeans down around her ankles, revealing the black G-string underneath. Mrs. Roberts clapped wildly and smacked Marie on the ass.

  “Your friends certainly know how to have fun,” Kevin joked.

  Demson chuckled. “If there’s one thing we know, it’s how to have a good time. That’s why I invested in this little cabin. It’s not much, but it’s a great getaway spot.”

  “It’s very nice.”

  Kevin’s gaze wandered to Driff, who was now seated on the couch, surrounded by people peppering him with questions about his home. The elf had snagged some expensive-looking champagne and was keeping himself sane with regular deep draughts right from the bottle. Ren, meanwhile, had wandered over to watch the poker game.

  Kylie had found a spot along the far wall from which she could watch it all. She felt Kevin’s gaze lingering on her and turned to stare right back at him. Blushing, Kevin blinked a few times and turned back to Demson.

  “Your ex-girlfriend is a very talented young lady. She’ll go far with Tallisker.”

  The older man’s inflection on the word “talented” told Kevin everything he needed to know about which of Kylie’s abilities Tallisker prized. “How did she get involved with the company?”

  “Oh, we’ve got an army of well-paid headhunters in all the major firms. If you’re any good, we’ll find you. Say, I hear you had quite the promising career in finance prior to your layoff.”

  The only thing that kept Kevin from causing a scene was his suspicion that his current companion might be a demon. “I was doing pretty well for myself, sure.”

  Their conversation was once again interrupted by a triumphant shout from the poker game. This time, the brunette had won. “Four jacks, bab
y! Take off your watch!”

  Kevin wondered if he’d heard right. Did she really want Ren’s father to take off his watch? Wasn’t the point of the game to get to everyone else’s naughty bits? He was about to ask Demson as a means of changing the subject when the scene before him made his jaw drop. As Mr. Roberts slid his watch off his wrist, suddenly there was a monster in his place—a big brown thing with scales, leathery wings, and some sort of sharp spines wherever it should’ve had hair. Everyone around the table hollered and cheered, save for Ren, who shook his head.

  Well, Kevin thought, I guess the watch thing makes a little more sense now.

  Demson drew him back into their previous conversation with a simple question. “Ever want to get back into the big time? Tallisker could use a man like you. There are always a few books that need to be cooked, if you know what I mean. We pay very well—as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

  In spite of his reservations about the food’s safety, Kevin quickly snatched a piece of hard cheese from the table beside them and popped it into his mouth, giving himself time to think. Up until a few days ago, this kind of opportunity would’ve been just the thing he was looking for. Networking was the name of the game, and he’d always been damn good at. He understood that it wasn’t what you knew but who you knew that got you places in life. In a field where every job candidate had a degree from a good school and a perfect cover letter, one social reference made all the difference.

  But there, in northern Minnesota, the thought of playing that game with these people almost made him choke on his cheese.

  “Sorry, sir, but I’m not ready to leave Harksburg yet,” he said, swallowing carefully.

  Demson’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

  Why not, indeed? Because of Nella, obviously, and because he didn’t particularly like the thought of working for the frightening group of twisted monsters that had cost him his last job in Chicago, but neither of those were reasons he could voice without endangering himself and others. His mind whirred through the events of the last few days, searching for an answer.