“Sure.”
“Excellent. Thank you.” After saying a quick good-bye to Melinda, they stripped off their gloves and masks. Chaz felt as if he could finally breathe again.
“You two have this?” Jack asked when they got to the squad room. “Report to me when you can but be sure to head home before midnight. Fresh eyes for the case tomorrow, and maybe our tox screens will be done.”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
Chaz waited until Jack disappeared into his office before he turned to Declan. “So. You know about the files in the basement? In the evidence room?”
Declan stiffened. “Yeah. Toronto cops are known for their meticulous records.”
“Huh. Were you looking yesterday?”
Declan sighed and nodded slowly.
“What were you looking for?”
“Does it matter? Seems like you were looking too.”
“I was but under Jack’s orders,” Chaz lied. “What did you need? The computers have the same information, you know.”
“I do know, but they said the same thing about the Chaos Cartel. They’re known for technological feats of disguise. I wanted to be sure that what I knew of them from my Nunavut office was the same.”
“And was it?”
“Yeah, but it didn’t help. You ever think you’re solving a puzzle, but you realize that you’re just picking out the things you like and not the things that have meaning?”
Chaz saw something in Declan’s eyes. Something dark and disturbed but not mean. He was holding something back. Chaz waited, hoping to coax it out like the sun did the shadows.
“You ever hear of the Judge?”
“Yeah,” Chaz said, throat dry. “He destroyed half of Canada for someone he loved.”
“Avenging someone he loved,” Declan corrected. “I looked him up too. It was a nice thought.”
“Why?”
“There’s power in revenge. In getting what you want and need. Very biblical actually.” He laughed, the first real laugh Chaz had heard from him. It shocked Chaz how deep and throaty it was. Everything else seemed fake in comparison.
“You know,” Declan went on, “I had a buddy who went back to school for his PhD in theology. Just quit the gang unit and decided he was going to study all instances of revenge in the Bible. There were a ton, and he made the case that the book wasn’t about love and forgiveness but about retribution. That was the real message.”
“Is that the same buddy who you quoted Nietzsche with?”
Declan’s grin faded. “No. But it doesn’t matter now. My buddy never got his PhD and the Judge is gone.”
“Not gone, just missing. Or so the file says.”
“He’s gone,” Declan stated definitively. “But it’s a nice idea too, isn’t it? Not just retribution but justice. You ever think of asking someone like that for help?”
“Oh yeah. Lots in the past.”
“And why haven’t you followed through with it?”
Chaz drew in a deep breath. He thought of his angry adolescence and Vanessa, the blonde woman in a leather jacket who’d turned him. Nat and Atticus and everything bad that came from it. But then Fatima had found him and guided him to Artie’s. The life he had now, including Sully and his opera, was a small section of a fraught life, but it was good.
“Too personal?” Declan asked.
“No. I just… I don’t think the Judge would ever help me. I don’t think djinns would either.”
“Yeah, I hear that. We all have something to atone for, even if we’re good men now.”
Chaz could barely nod. When the conversation died between them, Chaz did nothing to bring it back. He stared at the computer screen full of boat licenses and names that didn’t seem to match up to faces, while Declan left to go search through the Monster Mythology in the basement. By the time the clock hit five, Chaz had no leads and he didn’t even care.
“Heading home?” Jack asked.
“Yeah, then right to bed,” Chaz said, thinking only of Sully.
Chapter 12
SULLY HUFFED. The stain on the front hall rug was not going to come out. He’d started his cleaning duties about an hour ago, and so far he’d only managed the front hall. What he thought would be an easily cleaned mud stain was wine or juice or something else utterly impossible to remove from the rug this long after the fact. Considering how beautiful all the rugs were in the front foyer—hell, in all of Artie’s house—this stain felt purposefully rude. Artie cleared her customers better than this. So how had some inconsiderate idiot gotten inside?
Ugh.
After wearing through one rag, Sully got up. The bucket of soapy water he was using wasn’t going to work, so he was determined to try something else. Vinegar? Baking soda? Did that get out red wine? Anything stronger would probably damage the carpets while it destroyed the stain. Sully considered knocking on Trinity’s door to ask for a spell. He almost thought that was a perfect plan until he remembered whatever form Trinity was taking today, Tom or Trina, probably neither would want to waste their spell-energy on something as silly as red wine and rugs.
When Sully searched the cleaning cupboard and found no vinegar or baking soda, he went into the kitchen. The vinegar was in a condiment dispenser and was usually used for fries, but it would do. He was about to run up the steps when Artie’s large frame appeared in the doorway. She wore a white dress, her long curls pulled back. She folded her arms in front of her chest and narrowed her eyes.
Sully felt her gaze like a weight. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for. So don’t apologize, since it means less this way.”
“But the rug. That’s what I’m sorry about. There’s something on it and I don’t think this will take it out.”
“And? A rug is a rug. You’re a human. That’s what matters, so don’t look so sullen.”
Sully laughed. “Sort of my namesake.”
“No, your name is Michael Sullivan. I can call you Mikey again, if you want?”
Sully shook his head, making a face. “Too many of the clients said My Key, as if I was an object.”
Artie nodded, understanding. “So, Sully, are you going to tell me what another client did today to make you so upset?”
Sully huffed again. “I’m just annoyed at the stain. At the person who made the stain. They should have more manners, whoever they are.”
“And I repeat: it’s a stain. If you haven’t already noticed by the business I run, I’m not exactly shocked by stains.”
“But it’s rude! There’s no outside food here. We tell the customers that all the time. But someone clearly brought something in and then was careless. In the front hallway in full view of Tabby at the desk. That’s just—”
Artie walked down a couple steps and placed a hand on Sully’s shoulder. Her touch instantly calmed him, though he sometimes resented that fact.
“I say again,” Artie whispered, “a rug is a rug. I’m one for decorum, and yes, that’s rude, but accidents happen. Why are you so convinced it’s a customer? If this was in full view of Tabby, maybe she was having some wine and got careless?”
Sully shrugged. That was likely, given Tabby’s desire for sweet things and how she bounced around when she listened to music. He hadn’t seen whoever did it and asking her would yield no results—especially if it had been her. So cleaning was a fool’s errand. But it was his fool’s errand, and he was determined to get rid of the stain. The fact that he couldn’t and that Artie was making this into a lesson about autonomy made Sully feel as if he was being called My Key by that first customer.
Sully looked down at his hands and noticed they were red from cleaning. His jeans were stained red too. He blinked and felt something sharp rip its way through him. He fought off the anger and fear he’d been battling all morning. Artie squeezed his shoulder, making it that much easier.
“What happened today, Sully? You canceled your afternoon appointment. As much as I love you—and everyone—taking the
ir cleaning duties seriously, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when you canceled.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just….”
“Stop apologizing for a stain you didn’t make. Start telling me about who made you feel this way.”
“Who says it was a who? Maybe I watched a bad TV movie about werewolves.”
Artie didn’t move her stare. She’d been in this business too long to be fooled by his act. Her perceptiveness had nothing to do with their connection; Artie was his friend, sure, but she was also a good businesswoman. With a sigh Sully finally budged.
“My last appointment. Reggie? Normally he’s a good guy. I’ve seen him three times before. I figured he was safe. And he was. Things were fine. But….”
“If someone does something you don’t want them to do, it doesn’t matter that you’re a worker. You said no and you gave rules. I will talk to him about violating it.”
“But you don’t even know what he did.”
“Do I need to?” The question was rhetorical. If Sully said something went down, she didn’t need to hear every last detail or confession. She knew enough to make it stop. The weight of rehashing the scene lifted from Sully’s chest.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Not at all. Now let’s get you into some clean clothing without those stains on it, and we’ll fix the front rug together. Sound good?”
“Yeah, it does.” Sully was about to follow Artie up the stairs when he realized his laundry was probably done in the basement and his favorite shirt and jeans were in the mix. “I’ll be up in a second. Grabbing some clothing.”
“And putting my vinegar back?”
“Right. Duh.” Sully set the vinegar back where he’d found it on the condiment shelf. “What are you going to do to him?”
“Reggie? Just a cutoff. No more appointments. But we’re polite about it. We always have our etiquette.”
Sully nodded, thankful Reggie wasn’t going to be bounced to another person. He wasn’t expecting vengeance—really, Reggie had done something so trivial and silly he was glad Artie hadn’t made him say it out loud—but he didn’t want to run into him in the hallway or coming out of Lisa’s or Cecil’s room. The loss wouldn’t be a hit to their business, because they always had business. Artie could be choosy, and because of that, Sully needed to learn how to be choosy too. He was used to always saying yes, even when he meant no, and always taking on work even when he felt unsafe. That had only gotten him into a couple really bad situations, but he knew he was lucky.
Sully changed in the laundry room since no one else was around. The fresh clothing from the dryer made him feel warm and safe; he smiled for what felt like the first time that week. Since Saturday probably, and the park with Cecil. Oh, and the phone call with Chip. They were halfway through the week now, but the altercation with Reggie made it feel as if those days were far behind him. Any altercation always made Sully feel like the seconds in an hour passed by like molasses.
When Sully got to the top of the stairs, he was surprised to see Artie behind the counter. She was searching through the computer, her eyes bright when they locked on him.
“Hey. You made it.”
“I did. I was just downstairs….” Sully glanced at where the rug was. It was removed now, rather than being cleaned. “Did you throw it out?”
“No, no, but Trina is taking over for me. You know, she’s been shirking her cleaning duties?” Artie gave Sully a knowing smile, well aware that Sully had been swapping out chores for money or chocolate bars. “You realize that Trina has to learn responsibility, right? As much as I like your cleaning, I need her to pull her weight too.”
“Even if remembering my strange orders from the grocery store is a chore?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ll try not to encourage her slacking, then. But if the rug is gone, does that mean you want me to clean something else?”
“I was wondering if you were up to working. Your cancellation won’t come back, but Chip called. He was wondering if you were free.”
Sully’s stomach jumped. He tried to ignore it and act calm. “What did you say?”
“That I needed to ask you because you were having a rough afternoon.”
“You shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why? You’re human. If he’s a good person, he’ll understand you saying no.”
“But I don’t want to say no, and I don’t want him to treat me like I’m breakable.”
“I understand that, but again, respecting boundaries means that he understands there’s a difference between feeling fragile for an afternoon and being breakable permanently. It’s best to see if your client understands that from the start, that way, you don’t get too attached.”
“I’m not attached. I’m just business savvy.”
Again Artie gave him a knowing smile. “Well, I have him on hold. Why don’t you tell him all this yourself?”
Sully swallowed. When Artie handed him the phone, he tried to ignore his shaking hands. I’m not attached, I’m not attached, I’m not attached. But after a run-in with Reggie, and the fact that rain the past two days had made it impossible to go to the park with Cecil again, Sully wanted something good. And Chip was good.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Sully.” Chip seemed to beam, then grow awkward as he fumbled for the next lines. “Um. Artie said you were having a hard time? Do you not want me to come in today?”
“No, it’s okay. I’m fine now. She made me feel better.”
“Oh. Good. I’m glad you’re feeling better. So. I can… see you?”
“Yes. And I have blood if you need it.”
“Artie usually does. Oh.” Chip took a moment to understand. “You mean it’s yours?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. That’s… good to know. I can be there in a little while.”
“But it’s daytime?” Sully glanced out the front windows, but seeing only the drapes, he changed his focus to the clock by the computer. Barely past five in the afternoon.
“Vamps don’t—”
“I know,” Sully said, anticipating and cutting off Chip’s explanation. “Vamps can go out in the daylight. The turning to dust thing is a myth, mostly motivated so different versions of vampires from other film companies didn’t infringe on copyright. You get sun-sick, though, but we have enough iron here to treat anyone.”
“That’s… exactly right. Wow. Did you learn that from Fatima?”
Sully shook his head. “No, no, another vamp here. I wasn’t concerned about the daylight itself. Just thought you had work.”
“Kind of. We’re still on that case I was telling you about, but I’ve been doing too much paperwork. I could use a break.”
“Good. See you soon, then.” Sully waited until Chip hung up the phone before he handed it back to Artie. He tried not to meet her eyes, so she couldn’t read the feelings written all over his face. But when she touched his hand over the receiver, he only felt support.
“I’ll get the blood,” she said. “He’ll meet you in your room.”
Chapter 13
SULLY WAITED on the edge of the futon. When a soft knock sounded, he sprang up for the door handle a bit too quickly. Chip stood on the other side, looking like he hadn’t shaved in days. His clothing reeked of stale cigarette smoke and smelled a little like fish too. Sully had dealt with a lot of customers with less-than-stellar hygiene, so he wasn’t too fazed. If he had his way, most of Chip’s clothing would be on the floor in a matter of minutes anyway and the smoked fish smell would stay there. Chip’s furrowed brows, though, and the brief moment of confusion on his face was enough to cut Sully in two.
“Hey. It’s me—Sully. You okay? Come to the right room?”
“Uh, yeah, yeah. Of course.” Chip stepped inside when Sully moved out of the way. He seemed to survey the room as if to really be sure the furniture matched up to before. “You look different, though. Kind of threw me for a second there.”
Sully touched his dy
ed black hair. Right. The gray contacts were gone. And now you don’t look like someone he used to know. Sully bristled with each swipe of Chip’s gaze across his body. He wondered if that look could bruise.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Should have warned about the hair dye and the contacts, but that was out of the ordinary so I didn’t think of it. Will this be a problem? If you have a thing for blonds, I can grab Trina again? She’s actually working as Trina right now too, so you may be in luck.”
Sully was about to leave when Chip reached out to stop him. “No, no, it’s fine.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Chip smiled. “Truthfully, I think I like the black more.”
“It’s not my natural hair color but close to it.”
Chip nodded as he sat down on the bed. He sighed when he ran a hand through his stubble and seemed to realize it was there. He shook his head, mumbling a little. Sully stood in his doorway, unsure if he wanted to close the door right now. He’d seen men lose their shit over whether Sully had cut his nails. Having Chip upset that he changed major factors of his appearance could be enough to send this entire evening—one he hated to admit he was looking forward to—down the crapper.
“You sure you’re okay? It’s okay to have preferences. And if it’s going to be a big deal later, I don’t mind you stepping out now. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
“No, I’m fine. Just mixed up after all this paperwork. So much stuff at work, you know?”
“I can guess.”
A beat of silence. Another. Sully didn’t like this at all. “Let me get Trina.”
“Why?” Chip turned to Sully, his gaze open. “Is it because you don’t want to see me?”
“No. I like having you around.”
“Then I’d like to stay.”
There was an honesty to Chip’s voice that made him seem vulnerable. Not because he always told the truth—someone who was a vamp was conditioned to lie at all times, no matter what, and Sully couldn’t forget that—but because he understood the value in simplicity. If Chip wanted to be with him, then they would be together. That was it.
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