by Bee Murray
Fuck it.
I turned around and leaned against the driver’s seat. Frankie smelled like aftershave, beard oil, and hotdogs. Maybe we could get along. “Say, Frankie,” I began casually, “Tuesday was going to tell me about one of her other cases, but she didn’t get a chance because we arrived at HQ too quickly. What’s the Cabo Incident?”
The van swerved dramatically to the right and came to a screeching stop. Car horns blared and someone shouted an obscenity as they careened around us.
I wasn’t sure a van in this kind of condition could even start again after a stop like that.
Frankie reached into his jacket and pulled out a small vial of clear liquid before he turned to face me. His expression was unreadable, and even though the vibes he was giving off screamed danger, his heart rate hadn’t increased.
Interesting.
“This is Holy Water, Mr. Quake. Combined with the taser I carry, I could make you piss yourself and swallow your own tongue at the same moment.” He held up the bottle so I could see it clearly. Like brandishing up a squirt bottle at a misbehaving puppy. His tone was conversational and, despite my bitter mood, I liked Frankie.
“You won’t die, of course,” he continued, “After all, you’re already dead. But I could make it hurt, Mr. Quake. I could make it hurt for a very long time. Now, I’m not trying to threaten you, you’re a client. We rarely threaten clients. But Tuesday, Anna, Carlyn, Elena, Olivia—all these women who work for Pisces PR Agency? They’re my family and I will protect them. You keep your nose out of their business, do I make myself clear?”
He waited until I nodded before he put the bottle back in his pocket and turned back to the road.
“We don’t talk about Cabo. Ever. And we don’t discuss it with clients, or strangers. Tuesday would never have shared information about it. I don’t know how you found out about it, but this will be your only warning. Never mention it again.”
Balls. This guy was serious. I obviously have to know what the hell happened in Cabo now. I will make it the only goal of the rest of my undead life if I have to.
I raised my hands defensively as Frankie glared at me in the rearview mirror. “Uh, understood. I probably misheard her. I’m sure she was actually going to tell me about something that happened in… Cleveland. Ohio. I’m sure that’s what she actually said.”
Frankie gave me a long, measured look in the rear-view mirror before he pursed his lips and nodded.
“Cleveland. She was probably referring to the territory dispute she negotiated among the residents of the Old West Cemetery. That one took a while to sort out.”
I blinked.
“I’m sorry… did you say the residents of the cemetery?”
Frankie chuckled and jerked the van back onto the road and then changed lanes violently. The man who had uttered that stern threat only moments ago was gone, and Tuesday's jovial co-worker was back in his place.
I totally had to know what Cabo was all about.
“This world, man... It’s full of surprises.”
Understatement of the century.
I narrowed my eyes as Frankie pulled the van toward an underpass.
I knew where we were!
“My garage,” I said excitedly. “My garage is—take a left!”
Frankie did as I commanded, and the van veered to the left. I brightened at the idea of potentially getting a vehicle that smelled less… pungent. I leaned forward and pointed Frankie in the right direction. He didn’t seem to have any complaints, which could only mean that this had been part of Tuesday’s plan all along, otherwise he would have pulled out the vial of Holy Water and told me to go fuck myself.
I’ll take it.
The brown, nondescript warehouse loomed in front of us and Frankie put the van in park and slid out of the driver’s seat. He came around the van and slid open the door to let me out.
“My babies!” I jumped out of the van and kicked the tire for good measure, “Daddy’s home!”
Frankie gave me some impressive side-eye, but shrugged and followed me to the keypad. I rubbed my hands together, punched in my code, and bent down for the biometric scanner to read my eyeball.
The machine glowed with the green light of the laser and then beeped. Entry Denied.
“What the hell? Did I enter the wrong pin?” I shook it off and cracked my neck before leaning down to try again.
The machine beeped again. Entry Denied. No such user.
Balls! The alarm would be tripped if there were three false attempts to enter. The last thing we need is the Seattle PD coming here to investigate a dead rockstar breaking into his own garage. But who the hell had shut off my access?
“Baldwin,” I growled. My manager was still pulling the strings with my accounts and assets. That bastard better not have helped himself to any of my cars. He’d had his eye on one of the Corvettes, and if I found so much as a fingerprint on it—
“Any windows or anything? I’m pretty handy with a crowbar.” Frankie offered as he stepped back to squint up at the building.
I shook my head. One reason I’d chosen this building over a hundred others was the remote location, and the security. Millions of dollars’ worth of vehicles were behind those steel-reinforced doors and no one was the wiser.
The only people who had access to this door were myself, my lead mechanic, Omar, and Baldwin.
“Damn it!” I kicked the door and stomped over to where Frankie was studying the garage door.
“Baldwin changed the biometrics on the door. We can’t get in.”
Frankie stroked his beard thoughtfully and then pointed at the bottom of the door.
“Maybe we can’t walk in, but we can wait until he walks out. Or rather, drives out.”
I stared at him incredulously and then back at the garage door.
Sure enough, a faint sliver of light glowed through the tiny gap between the steel door and the cement ground.
“He’s in there?” I asked, gesturing towards the warehouse with renewed fury.
Frankie shrugged. “Someone definitely is.”
If Baldwin was in there, he was unlikely to be alone. The man traveled with security most days, and stealing a car from his former undead employer seemed like an activity one might want to have backup for.
Even with my vampire-enhanced strength, getting through the door would be next to impossible without outside help. If we set off the alarms, we’d have approximately four minutes to get in, grab Baldwin, and get out before the cops got here.
“Walk with me,” I ordered Frankie. Together we prowled around the entire building, staying in the shadows to avoid detection. I knew where every single security camera was and pointed them out as we pressed ourselves against the building.
When I concentrated, I could hear the beat of another heart inside the building. Frankie was right. Someone was in there.
Suddenly, I had an idea. I skidded to a stop and turned to face my bearded babysitter.
I placed a hand on his shoulder, but lifted it away when he reached for the vial of Holy Water. Fine, we weren’t there yet, but he wasn’t jumpy or afraid of me. I could work with that.
“Frankie, I need you to do me the very biggest favor in the world. Tuesday will not like it, but I need you to do this for me. Man to man.”
Frankie’s eyebrow rose, but he said nothing, which I took as a good sign.
“I need to get into that garage. And we’re going to have to do something drastic.” I couldn’t believe I was even going to suggest it.
“Drastic?”
“Not ‘you’re going to get fired and Tuesday is going to dance on your grave’ drastic, but… yeah… pretty drastic.”
“Like what?”
I pointed to the van that stood under the single floodlight that lit the front of the warehouse. “We’re going to drive that rolling death trap into the garage door.”
“We?”
“Ok, you. You are going to drive the van into the door. I mean, I could do it, but I’m
pretty sure I’d be breaking Tuesday’s ‘vamps stay in the backseat’ rule.”
Frankie frowned and looked between the van, and the garage door before he shrugged. “Sure. Why not. I’ve always wanted to see what a rockstar’s secret garage looked like.”
“Of course you do,” I said with a smile. He flinched slightly at the sight of my fangs, but recovered well. He’d been a solid choice for my babysitter.
But I wouldn’t be telling Tuesday that; she already knew.
“If we get in, I’ll let you pick our getaway car.”
Frankie’s eyes lit up, and he grinned at me. “I’m in.”
I knew he would be.
“After you,” I said graciously as Frankie loped toward the van. I leapt into the back and held on to the passenger seat as Frankie slid behind the wheel and the engine roared to life.
He slammed the van into reverse and grinned at me over his shoulder. “Gonna take a run at it,” he said. “If I hit it at the right angle, the door should buckle.”
“Should?”
“Give or take.”
I glared at the door, knowing that the man I needed was behind it. “Hit it.”
Frankie stomped on the gas and the van lurched forward. I wasn’t convinced that we’d be able to get enough speed to do any damage to the door, but if it caved just enough, I’d be able to rip it open the rest of the way.
“Hold on,” Frankie said through gritted teeth.
“Does this thing have airbags?” I wondered aloud.
Too late.
Frankie’s foot was pressed to the floor and the thrum of the van’s engine was deafening. We were doing it. We were actually going to do it—
I’d never crashed a car before, but I’d always imagined that it would be more… dramatic.
I’ll never forget the sound of metal twisting and warping, or the hollow BOOM of the garage door as it rippled under the weight of the van. The force of the impact threw us forward, and an airbag exploded out of the steering wheel as the windshield cracked and then exploded into a thousand squares of shatterproof glass.
“Are you okay?” I gasped. My cheek burned where a piece of glass had cut into me, and my shoulder was dislocated… but I’d be healed in a matter of minutes. “Frankie?”
A soft chuckle emerged from the airbag. “That was fun.”
His arm came up and the blade of a knife flashed in the orange light that spilled into the van. He stabbed it into the airbag, which deflated noisily and allowed him to sit upright.
Frankie’s face and beard were covered in blood, and he touched his nose gingerly and sniffed. “Damn thing broke my nose.”
I laughed and tried to ignore the smell of blood in the air. I hadn’t eaten yet and my stomach lurched. My monster lurked just below the surface, and I was way overdue for a snack.
My shoulder tightened, and I flexed my fingers. “Ready?”
The garage door had buckled just enough that I could pry it open.
Frankie popped the van into neutral, opened his door, and spat a mouthful of blood onto the gravel. “Ready.”
I jumped out of the van and strode to the garage door. Frankie had wedged the van against the steel, but it only took a push from me to send it rolling away from us.
It came to a stop, dragging its bumper and sitting at a strange angle on its snapped axle.
RIP Van. I hope never to smell your like again.
“How are we gonna—”
I grinned and grabbed the steel doors with both hands. There was a metallic squeal of protest as I applied pressure to the bend in the door, but it widened and buckled under my strength until there was enough space for us to fit through.
“I can only hear one heartbeat,” I said through gritted teeth. “I didn’t expect him to come alone.”
“He obviously felt pretty confident that he wouldn’t be disturbed,” Frankie said. “You are dead, after all.”
“Undead,” I corrected him. My monster reared up as I heard a noise in the garage, and a low growl started in my chest as I ducked through the opening in the door and into the warehouse.
Lights snapped on overhead, and I immediately regretted my move.
So much for the element of surprise.
23
VINNIE
A shot rang out and clanged off the garage door.
“He’s armed, get down!” Frankie shouted.
“He can’t kill me,” I growled. “You stay down.”
Another shot slammed into the wall.
“You’re a terrible shot,” I shouted. My voice echoed off the cars and sounded strange in my ears.
There was a crash from the rear of the garage and I crouched down near Frankie. “You get the door open… and find our getaway car. I need to get that bastard.”
“I have to tell Tuesday what’s happening,” Frankie said firmly. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but I snatched it out of his hand.
“You don’t tell her anything!”
Frankie grabbed it back, and I growled at him. “I have to tell her. This is my job, pal. So smarten up. I don’t have to help you. I could call in backup and have you taken to that safe house whether or not you like it.”
I remembered the Holy Water and the taser he’d mentioned.
Fine.
I let out a disgusted noise, but didn’t argue. If that’s how he wanted to run things, that was fine with me. Tuesday would not stop me from getting the justice I deserve. .
Frankie fixed me with a meaningful glare before he nodded and stayed low as he ran toward the console that controlled the door. He’d be able to get it up far enough for us to get a car through. That’s all we needed.
Right now, I needed to grab that weasel, Baldwin. Before the night was over, he would beg for death and I’d have to decide how merciful I wanted to be.
With my teeth bared I crouched behind the wheel of a band new Limited Edition Mini Cooper. I’d never intended to drive it, I just… liked it. I’m a collector, after all.
All I needed was for Baldwin to give his position away.
His heartbeat was loud in my ears, fast and dramatic. He was close, but I couldn’t be sure where.
“Come on out, Balders,” I crooned. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here without my permission.”
“You’re supposed to be dead!”
I smiled as I pinpointed the source of the noise and moved toward it.
“But I already am dead,” I laughed. “I know you didn’t miss that meeting.”
Another shot zinged over my head and I looked back at Frankie. He ducked, but didn’t make a sound. Good man.
“You’re a shitty shot,” I called out. “Remind me to challenge you to a darts game sometime. I like winning.”
“Why are you always such an asshole?” Baldwin yelled desperately.
“I’m an acquired taste!” I called back.
My tone might have been light and jovial, but inside I was planning just how I would take him down. Every step brought me closer to where he was hiding.
How many bullets was that now?
One plus two, plus one...
The gun cracked again and a metallic clang echoed through the garage.
I jumped up from behind one of the SUV’s. “You shot my car!” It didn’t matter which car the bullet had hit. It just— “What the hell, man? What did the Camaro do to you?”
Maybe it did matter which car had been hit.
Baldwin didn’t answer, but I’d given away my position—but I didn’t care. Baldwin had gone too far now. Sure, he’d brought in a lackey to have me murdered and put Tuesday in danger, but this? This was too much.
I leapt on top of the SUV I’d been hiding behind and located Baldwin’s wispy blond hair as he ducked behind a tool box as tall as he was.
The cars were parked close enough in the garage that I could run across them like stepping stones over a river, and I took advantage of my speed to cross the distance between us with a few long strides. Ordinarily I would hav
e been screaming in pain as the hoods and roofs of the cars were dented by my heavy boots, but Baldwin had shot the Camaro.
I didn’t even need my monster for this phase of my haphazard plan. I was going to rip that sorry excuse for a manager apart without any help from that asshole.
I saw the flash of the muzzle before I heard the shot.
The bullet slammed into my shoulder and spun me around as I leapt toward Baldwin’s hiding place.
I landed awkwardly, but caught my balance before I fell.
Baldwin was pressed against the spare tire fixed to the back of a Land Rover I’d planned to take with me to South Africa. That trip wouldn’t be happening now, obviously, and the remembrance of it pissed me off even more.
“Wait— Please!”
I hated begging, except in the bedroom.
“Wait for what? You wanna shoot me again and see if you can get it right this time?” I sneered. I pressed my hand to my shoulder and frowned at the tear in my jacket. The bullet was lodged in the meat of my shoulder, I could feel it there.
Itching.
I dug my fingers into the wound, pulled the bullet out, and stared at it for a half-second before flicking it at Baldwin’s face.
He flinched and cowered as it bounced off him.
“You’re pathetic,” I snarled. “I should kill you right here, but I don’t want to stain the concrete… Omar still has to work here, you know.”
“Get away from me,” Baldwin cried. His voice shook with fear. I didn’t think it was possible to hate the guy any more than I already did, but he was making it real easy.
“Now you’re scared of me?” I said incredulously. “I could have gutted you anytime in the last five years. I almost did it when we were overseas last summer—that tour was an embarrassment.”
“And you were a trainwreck,” Baldwin blurted out before he raised his arms to protect his head.
“How fucking dare—”
Baldwin turned and ran.
I watched him with an amused stare. It’s not a good idea to run from predators. But the prey always tried to make a break for it.
With a growl, I launched myself after him and grabbed his shoulder. The expensive suit tore under my fingers as I hauled him back toward me. He let out a small cry of pained surprise as I lifted him into the air, turned, and hurled him toward a tower of all-weather tires.