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Black Box Inc.

Page 13

by Jake Bible


  The ghoul was yanked from his seat, and Aspen hopped into the limo. He leaned over the partition and waved at the faerie guard.

  “Hey there, Oakly,” Aspen said. “Nothing to worry about here. I’ve got this all in hand. If you take a look again, you’ll see the correct date. We’re dealing with a temporally twitchy entity and some of the details are getting confused.”

  “Mr. Littlestick,” Oakly gasped. “Yes, of course. I wasn’t aware Daphne was involved. My apologies.” Oakly looked back at the papers and nodded. “Yes, yes, all in order here, Mr. Littlestick.”

  “Could I have my papers back, please?” Teresa asked.

  “Nah, you don’t need those,” Aspen said. “Oakly will keep them safe for you. Right, Oakly?”

  “I’ll keep them by my side day and night,” Oakly replied.

  “Don’t need you to do that, but I appreciate the enthusiasm,” Aspen said. “More importantly, Daphne appreciates the enthusiasm. I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you and your kin with her. How’s that sound?”

  “That sounds excellent, Mr. Littlestick,” Oakly said and stepped away from the limo. He waved toward the front. “Let them through!”

  Aspen revved the engine and drove us through the final stage of the customs checkpoint. I glanced back through the rear window and saw the ghoul driver standing there on the side of the road, his head hanging and eyes cast down at the ground. Poor guy.

  “He’ll be fine,” Aspen said. “The guards will put him up in a nice cottage until your return trip. All at Daphne’s expense, of course.”

  “What’s going on, Mr. Littlestick?” Teresa demanded.

  Her voice grew dangerously loud, and everyone in the limo winced.

  “I’m going to rip your head off if this is a double cross,” Lassa growled.

  “Oh, I think there’s someone you’ll put ahead of me on the head-ripping-off list, you sexy sasquatch, you,” Aspen said.

  “What did you call me?” Lassa roared.

  He lunged past me and dove for the open partition. The only thing that stopped him was the sudden appearance of a very large pistol jammed into his right cheek.

  “Sit,” Harper ordered. “Calm down. Be good. No one will get hurt.”

  “That’s right, big boy,” Aspen said. “Do what the little traitor says and no one will get hurt.”

  Stunned silence.

  Aspen drove us through the border city of Matchsticks. Despite the silly name, the place was known to be a den of vice and violence. The perfect place for Daphne to set herself up in. I could care less about any of that as I sat there, gritting my teeth while I stared at Harper.

  “How you feeling about ripping my head off now?” Aspen asked and laughed. “I’m guessing you have someone else at the top of that list, am I right?”

  “Harper,” I croaked when I could find my voice. “Why?”

  “Wrong question,” Aspen said. He looked over his shoulder at Harper, completely ignoring the road ahead. “How about you not answer any questions, in case he gets one right?”

  He returned his attention to driving, although it was obvious the limo had been hexed and was making its own way to Daphne’s mansion without that asshole’s help.

  “Harper,” Lassa said. Not a question, not really a statement, more of a moan.

  Harper didn’t say anything, just held the huge pistol in one hand, aimed at Lassa’s head. I pulled the yeti back into his seat. It wasn’t hard to do, he was more shocked than I was, which meant he was close to useless. He sat with a heavy thump and a sad sigh.

  “Mr. Littlestick, might I remind you of the terms of the contract you signed,” Teresa said. “You are not to allow any harm to come to us. If you are taking us to be harmed in anyway, then you will have broken that contract and things will get very uncomfortable for you.”

  “Contract?” Aspen chuckled. “What contract?”

  He kept chuckling until he got bored with the sound, then he looked in the rearview mirror and locked eyes with Teresa.

  “Oh, that contract,” Aspen said. “Can’t really enforce a contract that’s been affected by temporal abnormalities, now can you? I am confident I didn’t see that clause.”

  Teresa gasped, then began to chuckle. That started Aspen chuckling. They were not ha-ha chuckles. More like the cold chuckles between enemies right before someone opened fire. I was glad neither were openly armed.

  They both continued chuckling until we turned onto an overgrown drive flanked by ivy-covered pillars of bloodred brick, then the chuckles petered out into hostile sighs. A massively ornate, and architecturally confused, mansion lay ahead of us at the end of a long, straight cobblestone drive.

  “You rotten bastard,” Teresa said.

  I’d never heard her call anyone that. It sounded great.

  “Excuse me, pal, but time abnormalities or not, we watched you sign that contract,” I said. “I’m one hundred percent certain you signed that yesterday.”

  “Did I?” Aspen asked. He took his hands off the wheel and waved them about. “Here’s the rub. While we may all have a memory of that happening, Time does not. Capital T, time. The Big T. It was signed. It wasn’t signed. It exists. It doesn’t exist. So many possibilities right now. When that Lord Beelzebub dips his fingers in the Time pie, he sure does make a mess of things.”

  “This is one reason faeries have such a bad extradimensional reputation,” Teresa said. “They love taking advantage of temporal fluidity loopholes.”

  “And bingo was his name-o,” Aspen said. “We faeries are very cunning when temporal fluidity rears its ugly head. Never let a good loophole go to waste. It’s our thing.”

  “You knew this?” I asked Teresa.

  “Everyone knows it,” Teresa said. “But faeries rarely take advantage of it unless absolutely necessary. I did not put a temporal clause in the contract because I did not know Lord Beelzebub was involved yet. That was a massive oversight on my part.”

  “True dat, home banshee,” Aspen said.

  “And you knew he was playing us,” I said to Harper. “Because you have been playing us. This whole time.” I laughed at the word. “Now we find out the end game.”

  “What? You already know the end game,” Aspen said as he pulled the limo up to the front door of the mansion. He turned off the car and leaned back over the partition. “I explained it to you yesterday.”

  “No,” I said. “You never said a word about us getting fucked over by one of our friends.”

  I said that last part while I glared at Harper. She looked past me, her focus on Lassa.

  “Chase, buddy, think about it,” Aspen said. “Have you not figured out why Harper truly summoned me? To explain the hit put out on you and that you needed to come talk with Daphne if you wanted to get it removed and get your little Iris back.”

  “I don’t care about the hit. The only reason I’m here is because you know where Iris is. Teresa will negotiate how we buy you out of that hit contract and—”

  “Buy us out? Buy us out? Listen to this guy!” Aspen laughed. Hard. “Oh. Buy you out. That’s rich. No, Chase, you aren’t buying us out.”

  “Mr. Lawter, I must apologize for putting you in this position,” Teresa said. “I was expecting more from the Fae. I have had dealings with them in the past, although never Daphne directly, and these types of shenanigans were not used.”

  “You got lucky, lady,” Aspen said. “We must not have wanted much from your clients, then. But, this time we do. A lot.”

  “Oh, shit,” I said as it hit me. “You want us to steal Lord Beelzebub’s soul.”

  “Again with the bingo was his name-o,” Aspen said.

  “Excuse me? Can I come out and breathe a bit now, please?” Back Chase asked. “It’s stuffy and smells like ass back here.”
r />   “Sweet marshmallows made of crack!” Aspen cried. “What the hell was that?”

  “Quiet,” I said to Back Chase. “Lay low and don’t say another goddamn thing.”

  “Lay low,” Back Chase responded. “Ha ha.”

  11

  DAPHNE WAS HOT.

  Not really sure how else to describe her. She sure as hell wasn’t some old fat faerie with shriveled wings on her back. Not that faeries actually have wings (they don’t).

  “Hello!” she enthused as Aspen led us into the mansion.

  She wore a slight summer dress of a bright red material that attempted to be concealing. It failed. I believe the word is “sheer.” Spaghetti straps and midthigh, the dress flowed about her as she came down the huge staircase that faced the front entrance. She was all smiles and bouncing blond curls. Big blue eyes that glittered as the sunlight hit them.

  She was hot. That simple.

  “I am so glad you could make it,” she said when she reached the bottom of the stairs and held her hands out to us like we were her oldest friends reunited after years apart. “You have no idea how full this makes my heart, you being here.”

  “Yeah, um, no?” I said.

  The response didn’t make sense, but it was all I could manage. Way better than Lassa, who seemed to have forgotten his rage at Harper and was busy drooling as his jaw hung slack and his eyes glazed over. Teresa reached out and snapped his jaw shut, then patted him on his huge shoulder.

  “Keep it together, please,” she said, then faced Daphne and produced the widest, fakest smile I had ever seen on a banshee. “Daphne, it is our honor to be here.”

  “No, no, it is my honor,” Daphne said. She put her hands to her chest, covering the ample cleavage she had been showing. “Truly. Such a privilege to have you as guests. No, strike that. Not guests. Friends. Yes, of course you all are. Even that mistake on Chase’s back. Hello, you.”

  “Is she talking to me?” Back Chase asked.

  “Oh, I must see it!” Daphne cried. She made a twirling motion with her hand. I twirled and lifted my shirt. Daphne gasped. “Isn’t he the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen!”

  “Yeah, um, no?” I said again. Seemed like the right response that time.

  “Oh, hey, will ya look at that,” Back Chase said. “Daphne. Are we that fucked?”

  “Oh you,” Daphne said. I couldn’t see her, but I imagined she batted her eyelashes and flipped a hand at him. “I hate to see you go. We could have all kinds of naughty fun.”

  “See me go?” Back Chase asked. “But I just got here.”

  “True, but you are an affront to all that is magical and natural,” Daphne said, her voice light as if she were talking about a sweet puppy. “And you are a wrinkle in my plans. Good-bye, you cute, disgusting freakish thing, you!”

  I heard fingers snap, and then I was on my knees. The pain in my back was excruciating. I did feel instantly lighter, though. I took a couple deep breaths and twisted to look at my lower back.

  “Oh, don’t you worry none, the little darling’s gone,” Daphne said. “You’re welcome.”

  “Thank you?” I said as Teresa helped me to my feet.

  The pain in my back was gone, but not in my gut. I’d hoped the two were related. They weren’t. Shit.

  “Daphne, allow me to—” Teresa started to say.

  “Teresa Sullivan, managing partner of Mulkahey, Delaney, and Sullivan—Attorneys at Law in that quaint mountain town called Asheville, North Carolina,” Daphne interrupted as she wagged a playful finger. A finger that was long, slender, and had a nail on the end that looked like sharpened steel. All of her nails looked like sharpened steel. “I know all about you, Teresa. You’ve caused me some headaches over the years since the extradimensional expansion into Earth. Oh, yes you have, you naughty little banshee minx, you.”

  “I admit our goals have been at odds at times,” Teresa said, ignoring the minx comment. “But I only serve my clients.”

  “Oh, Teresa, dear, we both know that is complete bullshit,” Daphne said and laughed.

  Her laugh was like the high tinkle of bells right before the guillotine came slashing down. I had no other way to describe the sound that came out of the faerie’s mouth. It turned me on while making my balls shrivel up at the same time.

  Jesus, my brain was fried.

  “I wouldn’t say complete bullshit,” Teresa replied, and that fake smile turned genuine. “Perhaps fifty percent?”

  “You flatter yourself and your race,” Daphne said, then rubbed her palms together. “How rude of me! Who wants tea and cakes?”

  First rule of dealing with faeries is eat nothing they offer.

  “I could eat,” I said.

  Goddammit.

  “Oh, I know you can, Mr. Lawter,” Daphne said.

  “I’m Lassa!” Lassa shouted at full volume.

  Harper winced and groaned. “Dude . . .”

  Lassa growled low without turning to look at Harper, then he seemed to forget his anger again and focused only on Daphne.

  I did the looking at Harper for him and gave her a harsh glare. The kind of glare that wakes a bitch up at night. Harper refused to meet my eyes. She simply kept her pistol at the ready. Harper didn’t need to point it at me or Lassa. We both knew she could shoot us dead before we even thought about making a move in her direction.

  “Well, hello there, Lassa,” Daphne said as she took a couple steps forward. Lassa held his ground, so points to him. “I have heard much about you from my little human former protégé here. She did not exaggerate. I believe you and I will have to get to know each other better. Later. Tonight. Before you all head off tomorrow on the fun task I have planned for you.”

  Aspen shifted uncomfortably as he watched Daphne flirt with Lassa. I made note of that.

  “He he he,” Lassa said while Daphne got closer, until she was almost touching him.

  The top of her head came to his midchest. He towered over her yet looked like he was a child at her knee. A horny child. It was a gross thought. But everything seemed gross about the goddamn Fae.

  “Could we discuss this task you have planned?” Teresa insisted, sliding herself between Lassa and Daphne.

  There was an electric shock as the banshee and faerie came into contact. Darkness clouded Daphne’s face while Teresa seemed to glow brighter. You could feel the impending violence. I had no idea if a banshee could take a faerie, but I sure as hell wanted to find out.

  “Tea and cakes,” Aspen said, clearing his throat.

  “Yes . . . Tea and cakes,” Daphne responded, her voice flat, void of all its former hospitable charm. “Aspen? Please show our guests to the sunroom. I will join you shortly.”

  “Yes, mum,” Aspen replied, bowing low. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you will follow me.”

  “Harper will remain behind,” Daphne said. “I need a word with her.”

  Lassa’s amorous insanity vanished. His head snapped to the side, and he glared at Harper.

  “Why does she get to stay?” he snarled.

  “Come on, pal,” I said as I grabbed him by the arm and followed Aspen around the grand staircase to a wide-open room behind it. “Let’s get you some space from the faerie fatale.”

  “So many feelings,” Lassa said, his voice shaking with emotion.

  “Keep them in check,” Teresa said, as she followed us and glanced over her shoulder at Daphne and Harper. “Becoming overwhelmed by your emotions is what they want. The faeries will use your emotions against you.”

  “We don’t need to,” Aspen said as he turned and walked along a corridor made entirely of windows. “You already do it for us the vast majority of the time.”

  Outside the windows, pressing against the glass, were every type of rose I had ever seen and plenty
I hadn’t. The flowers turned and faced us as we passed, their thorns tapping against the glass. I swore I could hear laughter. Possibly some taunts. Fuck the roses.

  At the end of the corridor was a circular room, also made entirely of windows. The strong, bright faerie sun shone down on us, but the sunroom wasn’t hot. The space was pleasantly warm. The kind of warm that made for good naps. Like a mild summer afternoon in the shade of a favorite tree. Everything was so lovely that I could almost—“Mr. Lawter,” Teresa snapped.

 

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