Burned

by J. Nichole Parkins

  “I’ll have you know my sex life, while none of your business, is very active.” I wasn’t lying, I saw my share of action. I just didn’t talk about it with her. Well, with anyone I guess. I knew Allison had a boyfriend she had been seeing the last three years. Just because she was happily in a relationship, didn’t mean I wanted one.

  “I’ve never heard you talk about a guy.”

  I took another sip of my coffee as I considered how to answer. I’d try for a little diplomacy. She wasn’t exactly one to sleep around.

  “I don’t have a guy.”

  “See. I could fix you up with Jake’s cousin. He-”

  So not where I wanted this conversation headed. I should have just stuck with my usual bluntness.

  “I said I don’t have a guy. I have a few.”

  She blinked at me for a couple of seconds as she figured out what I was really saying.

  “Oh.” A light blush stained her cheeks. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.” She brightened at my shrug. “But if you ever want to double date-” I cut her off with my hand.

  “Let’s just get this straight. I don’t date. I don’t do relationships. Relationships get messy. I just hook up.”

  “Alright, as long as you’re happy.” She regarded me shrewdly. Unable to hold her knowing look I watched the people passing by on the other side of the glass.

  I wouldn’t say I was happy, but a relationship? That wouldn’t fix what was broken inside me. It wouldn’t fix the festering blackness that seemed to spread every year. I would only contaminate someone else. Hookups were what worked for me. No strings attached. No complications. No one trying to figure me out.

  Understanding that she was treading on thin ice and I was moments from bailing, she switched to a more mundane topic.

  “Did you hear about the body that they found just outside of downtown?”

  I returned my focus to the closest thing to a friend I had, and shook my head.

  “There were cops swarming all over the place last night. Apparently they found a body, but no one knows much of anything. Not even the media has much to say other than the cops are looking for anyone who might have seen something. I heard the feds are getting involved.”

  I hadn’t heard about it. My busy lifestyle didn’t leave a lot of time for watching the news. Plus I didn’t have cable, preferring not to throw my hard-earned money away on the needless expense. Especially when I could get news through the internet with a keystroke.

  “They think this body is connected to another that was found last month.” She leaned forward, worry shadowing her eyes. “Do you think we might have another serial killer?”

  Tampa Bay was generally a safe area, but when you had this many preternatural creatures in one area, especially a rather active vampire underworld, bodies happened. It was inevitable. A lot of work was put into covering up most of these, but the occasional slip-up happened. I wondered if that was the case with these bodies. If so the local vampire House needed to step up their game and fix the problem. Especially if the feds were being pulled in. That wouldn’t be good for any of us.

  Chapter Two

  Shouldering through the crowd waiting to get into Phoenix, relief washed over me as I stumbled into the street. The stench of sweat hung in the muggy air as the line wrapped around the block, the club packed to capacity.

  I sighed, shoulders sagging as I considered finding a new place to dance. Stupid humans. They were like cattle, blindly following one another to the next newest thing, not really looking where they were going. Bunch of lemmings. Phoenix was rife with others, the packed crowds making it easier for the witless humans to be picked off one-by-one.

  Parking downtown was horrendous on the best of days, but the trendy hipsters made it more so, filling every conceivable space with their Civics and Jettas. I was only a block from the alley where I had stashed my Suzuki GSX R1000, my bike squeezing into places a car could never fit.

  The night weighed on my shoulders where it was usually revitalizing. It was time for a change of pace, maybe a new venue wouldn’t be a bad idea. The oppressive crowds and tight spaces made my skin crawl, but dancing provided a release, a freedom that exorcised some of the demons that always seemed to lurk over my shoulder waiting to strike. Like everything, it was a war within me. Two conflicting energies battling for control.

  The story of my life.

  The streetlights had long been disabled, busted out in an attempt to dissuade witnesses. Only the pushers, addicts, and others who did business in the area were welcome here.

  The pungent odor of garbage overwhelmed my senses as I approached the alley, merely feet from my bike.

  That was the only reason he managed to sneak up on me.

  “Ms. Richards?”

  The voice was deep and slow, like honey or molasses. I spun around, cursing myself for not paying better attention. Craning my neck, my eyes widened, surprised that such a giant was able to sneak up on me. He had to have been at least six-five, the stern cut of his suit failing to hide his muscular build. His matching military cut as severe as his suit. He stood with half his face shrouded in shadow alternately aglow in the red and blue of the flashing “Open” sign for Harper’s Hardware that some minimum-waged employee forgot to unplug. I could tell very little of his features. My senses were overwhelmed with the putrid scent of garbage, making it impossible to figure out if he was as human as he appeared.

  “Who’s asking?” I spat, narrowing my eyes, not even trying for a civil tone. He didn’t deserve one, skulking around in the dark.

  “Ma’am, I’d like to meet with you regarding some contract work for my organization.”

  Ma’am? My eyebrows shot up, as I looked at the giant in disbelief. No one had ever called me ma’am. There was no mistaking he was from the south with that drawl.

  “Which is?” I clipped out, warily. So my customer service skills needed a little work, it was past one in the morning after a long day of working and partying. I was exhausted. My only goal was to go home and crash, only now I had this asshole standing between me and my comfy pants. If he wanted to hire me, couldn’t he use a phone like a normal person?

  “FBI.”

  “Yeah right,” I sneered, waiting for the punch line.

  Carefully removing his credentials from his suit jacket, he unintentionally flashed his holstered sidearm. He flipped the bi-fold wallet open, shiny badge flashing in the red and blue light. Sure enough Agent Spencer Reeves was with the F-B-fucking-I. If it wasn’t real it was an excellent fake.

  Momentarily speechless, my mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for water - attractive I’m sure. I didn’t know whether to be scared or pleased that I was being contacted by them. Fear won out but I managed to cover it with my usual attitude.

  “And why would the FBI want to hire me, Agent Reeves?” Crossing my arms, I held my breath as I waited for his answer.

  “We know about certain rare skills you possess.”

  I froze.

  Dread crept up my spine, its heavy weight pressed on my chest.

  Rare skills.

  With so many skeletons lurking in my closet, I didn’t know which one he was referring to. I wasn’t about to hazard a guess and unwittingly provide him with more ammunition.

  “Excuse me?” My eyebrow lifted in question.

  “Let’s cut the bull. You fell under our radar a few years ago. You’ve made a pretty good name for yourself on the streets in certain circles. The preternatural community isn’t exactly warm and helpful to the feds. We’d like to utilize your skills for a specific case. Contract only, of course.”

  “Kidnappings and experimentation tend to cause mistrust,” I snarled before thinking, immediately regretting admitting anything. I quickly stumbled out, “Look, I’m not really interested–”

  “Ms. Richards, you will be generously compensated for your cooperation.” His honeyed voice drawled out the words, pulling me in. I wanted to sink into his voice. It made me long for cool nights
wrapped in warm arms, rocking on a porch swing. Nostalgia hit me hard. I was almost temped to prolong this conversation just to wallow in the foreign feeling. Almost, but not quite.

  Wait.

  Generously compensated?

  “How generous?” My interest was piqued.

  “We can talk about specifics later.” He handed me his card. “I realize it’s late. Take some time and think it over. We can go over the details whenever you’d like.”

  “Right.” I pocketed the simple white piece of paper, with every intention of trashing it.

  Keeping him in view from the corner of my eye, I walked the handful of paces to my Suzuki. Human or not, I didn’t want to give him my back. I had no reason to trust him.

  As I straddled my bike and shifted my weight to start it, his honeyed voice called out.

  “I wouldn’t wait too long, Ms. Richards. We do have other possibilities.” He winked at me and sauntered away, his long steps eating up the ground.

  Despite my exhaustion, sleep was elusive. Questions circled my head. Worries bounced around like a Ping-Pong ball in a game of table tennis.

  What did they know?

  Did they know about the people I’d killed?

  Wasting a few hours tossing and turning, I finally relented and called Agent Reeves. Since he was disturbing my sleep, I’d disturb his.

  “Reeves.” The phone rang once before he answered. His voice as clear and awake as if it were midday.

  “I want to know more.”

  “Ms. Richards?” His warm drawl reached through the phone, wrapping around me.

  “It’s Kyra.” I corrected him.

  “Fine, Kyra then. Why don’t you come by the office tomorrow?” The address he provided was in downtown Tampa, not too far from Phoenix.

  “I’ll be there,” I growled and quickly disconnected. With that out of the way I was finally able to relax a little and my heavy eyelids closed in slumber.

  Agent Reeves’ office was in a grungy four story building in a shit-tastic section of downtown. I was not impressed. Hopefully it was not a reflection on how much I’d be paid. I’m not sure how the government agency defined “generous”.

  Notifying the receptionist, I waited in one of those crappy blue plastic chairs you’d expect to see at a bus station. I shifted relentlessly on the unforgiving material, striving to find a tolerable position. I knew government agencies were dealing with cutbacks, but this was ridiculous. Thankfully he didn’t keep me waiting long.

  The door next the receptionist’s desk swung open and the stud muffin that appeared practically made my tongue roll out of my mouth like in the old Warner Brothers cartoons. It was the same tall build as the shadowy figure from last night, but the stark bright lights of the waiting room allowed me a full view that the flashing neon had only hinted at. Definitely six-five, he filled out his cheap off-the-rack suit nicely. His blond hair was cut close and his warm brown eyes crinkled in the corners.

  “Ms. Richards– Kyra.” He corrected quickly. “It’s nice to see you again.” His unmistakable drawl made me feel like I just drank a warm cup of coffee. Agent Reeves took my hand in his, griping it with strength, but not too hard - I did the same. You can tell a lot about a person from their handshake. I was surprised to feel a little zing shoot up my arm when our hands connected. It wasn’t exactly attraction, although there was that, it was something I’d never felt before.

  Odd.

  “Sure,” I mumbled, distracted. At least my voice still came out normal, not shaking like I had worried. Following him down a dingy hallway to his office in the back, I responded to his attempts at small talk in grunts and one word answers.

  I sat in the brown vinyl chair he gestured to, the squeak of the material echoing in the silence. The thud of his office door closing was loud in the quiet room. My heart wanted to leap out of my chest. I cursed my vivid imagination and the torturous scenarios it was creating. I was talking to the F-B-freaking-I for god’s sake.

  “So what is this about?” I blurted, unable to stay silent a moment longer.

  “We’d like to hire you – on contract – to do some investigative work for us. You will be well compensated after meeting each contractual obligation, of course.”

  “Don’t you have your own investigators?” Immediately skeptical, I cocked an eyebrow.

  “Yes ma’am we do, but none with your skills and uh- talent.” Sharp brown eyes met mine. “Let me explain.” He rose gracefully and perched casually at the edge of his desk, leaning forward in a calculated move to raise my confidence. To inspire camaraderie. I’d taken Psych 101 in college, I wasn’t that easy to manipulate.

  “We are a classified sub-branch of the FBI that deals in unusual crimes. All of our agents are specially trained and hand-selected based on their innate abilities. We are aware of the special talent you possess, and would like to pay you to aid us in an investigation.”

  “Our agency is made up entirely of those with preternatural powers. Like you.” He paused letting that sink in before he continued.

  “Our innate abilities give us an edge that normal humans just don’t have. This advantage helps us keep everyone safe, human and other alike.”

  I held in my contempt, but he responded as if I’d scoffed aloud.

  “I know the government doesn’t have the best reputation when it comes to others. There have been some incidences that have ended negatively. Some in our group have been charged with making some tough decisions. But the core mission of the agency is to ensure the safety of both groups.”

  “We also strive to keep the general public in the dark about the existence of others, so discretion is vital. The powers that be - and I’m sure you’d agree - have decided that society is not ready for Revelation yet. Several of us are involved in partnerships with various preternatural led agencies, to keep our respective existences secret. We investigate crimes that might have been committed by preternaturals, and work toward keeping the peace between the different groups.”

  “So why do you need me?” I sagged into my sea, almost dizzy with relief.

  He just wanted to use me, like everyone.

  The thought crept in, heavy, weighing me down. I should be used to it. That’s all anyone wanted.

  “The division supervisor, Special Agent in Charge Don Nissen, has decided that someone with your talents and contacts could be useful here. We have had a series of unusual murders, obviously preternatural in nature, that we are finding challenging to say the least. I can’t tell you more until you are on retainer.” Sincerity oozed from him, keeping me from getting annoyed at his vagueness. “We will work as partners but most of the risk will be on your shoulders and therefore you will be compensated accordingly. Once you agree, we can work out the issues and go into more details.”

  He named a sum that made me light headed – I could certainly use the money. I guess government cutbacks weren’t so bad after all. While I mulled over his offer, I considered the problems this might cause. I’d be working with the enemy. Well, sort of. It’s true, there was no love lost between me and the government, although he didn’t know that. It was also becoming almost routine for preternaturals to go missing, kidnapped by one governmental agency or the other. Sure, like Agent Reeves suggested, it was probably in the interest of public safety and trying to keep the public unaware of the creatures around them, but that didn’t make it right.

  We couldn’t be hidden forever. Once Revelation happened, politicians would surely have a field day finding ways to exclude us from constitutional rights. They’d done it to groups of humans throughout history. What’s to say they’d react any differently to others, whether non-human or humans with “talents” as Agent Reeves had described them.

  Could I work side by side with the very people who would turn on me if they discovered one too many of the skeletons rattling around in my closet? Would I be able to do the job well, but not too well?

  Despite my worry curiosity got the better of me. I hoped this wasn’t one of
those curiosity-killed-the-cat situations.

  We hashed out some of the more boring details of the contract including a very strict confidentiality clause. Agent Reeves repeatedly emphasized how risky this job could potentially be – the reason for the higher than usual pay.

  “What is so unusual about these murders that you would need to hire me?”

  “We’re up to six human bodies so far. All displayed in the same manner, with identical causes of death, as far as we can tell.”

  As far as we can tell?

  He pulled a stack of files from a drawer. “The ME just finished the final autopsy and confirmed the same details on the latest body. I’m warning you the pictures are graphic.”

  “No kidding.” There were several high resolution images, but it took me a few minutes to figure out what I was looking at. With so much blood and carnage, I wondered how they were able to identify the victims or even determine how many there were. It just looked like a pile of parts to me. Finally after looking long enough, I began to pick out the individual pieces: a hand, intestinal organs, parts of a lung.

  “Wow, someone took a lot of time to tear apart the bodies. Post-mortem I hope?”

  “Nope.”

  “Yikes.” Total understatement. “And there are six bodies like this?” I swallowed thickly imagining the terror and pain these people experienced. No one deserved to die like that.

  “Six so far, but we doubt the killer has stopped. We don’t even know if we’ve found them all. With so many pieces, a scene could stay hidden long enough for scavengers to pick off everything before anyone notices. Especially in the more vacant areas like large empty lots, fields, and abandoned warehouses.”

  “Any escalation, or were the first bodies just as bad?” I was trying hard to look at the cases objectively, slamming the door on any additional thoughts of the victims and the horror they experienced.

  “Almost identical.”

  “Couldn’t you have gotten my feet wet on a less gruesome case?” The photos almost slid off the desk when I tossed them down.