by R. L. Naquin
“What?” He was scowling, every bit as eager to have it out with me as I was with him.
“While you were busy learning nothing and screwing around, I was watching people coming and going through the alley.”
“So?”
“So, there were three of them.” I pointed at Lara. “Don’t let her get loose. The OGREs should be on their way.”
I darted back to Aaron. All was the same. Grace and Aaron were a little sweaty and out of breath, but otherwise had everything under control. I popped my head inside Doodlebug Cookies. “Everything okay in here?”
Ash nodded. “Truman’s on his way.”
“Good. Close the door and lock yourselves in.” I jogged to the end of the line of trucks and checked inside each one.
Ours was the first one. I gave it a quick check, then closed and locked it. The next truck was Lucas’s Bandito truck. I’d never been inside before, but I didn’t expect to find anyone inside. I knew right where he was, and I knew he didn’t work with a partner. It was clean and smelled like cilantro and refried beans. I slammed the door, pissed that he’d been deeper undercover than I’d been. I wasn’t sure if I was angry because he hadn’t told me—and I hadn’t figured it out myself—or that he was better at it than I was.
The next truck was Doodlebug Cookies. Ash waved and gave me a thumbs-up through the window as I passed. Gareth’s followed, and his door was open. I stuck my head inside and my stomach lurched. Gareth’s wife, Claire, lay curled in the fetal position in the corner. Blood pooled beneath her. I started to climb the steps and go to her, but I saw her chest move up and down. She was still alive, and the killer wasn’t here.
“Claire, stay with us, honey. Help is on the way.” I backed out quickly, guilt gnawing at my soul. Outside, I searched frantically for someone nearby to send in to sit with Claire, but everyone was either holed up a few trucks down with Lisa or pinning down an attacker. I couldn’t take the time to get Ash from the Doodlebug truck. I didn’t want to risk the chance that the last soulless human might double back and hurt someone else.
I still had one more truck to check. He had to be in it.
Aaron’s truck was farther down than the rest. Two other trucks had been between the Baconator and the fish and chips trucks during lunch, but they’d both pulled out and gone home. I approached the truck slowly, expecting someone to jump out at me any second. The open door led up the steps into the dark truck. My boots squeaked with each step.
At the top of the steps, I could hear someone breathing heavily. With the truck closed up and the lights out, it was difficult to make out any shapes. I flipped on the light switch and blinked, ready for an attack.
It didn’t come.
Aaron’s brother, Zack, lay at my feet. His eyes were open, staring sightless at the ceiling. A knife, likely his own from the truck’s kitchen, was buried in his chest. Blood puddled everywhere. Bile rose in my throat as tears formed in my eyes. There was no chance Zack was alive.
Behind his body, toward the middle of the truck’s kitchen, sat the third person I’d seen walking out of the alley. Troy—cheddar on sourdough, nacho-flavored tortilla chips—was bathed in blood up to his elbows. Rather than the empty, dark eyes of the other two, Troy wore a sick, confused look in his fully aware eyes.
He glanced up at me and moaned like he was in pain. “What happened?” He stared at his hands, his voice quivering. “What did I do?” Tears welled in his eyes and fell in his lap in big, fat drops. His voice dropped to a whisper and his expression was pleading. “Help me.”
I didn’t know what to do. I was frozen in place. Unwilling to step over the body or touch anything covered in blood, I didn’t know how to help Troy. He held his hands in the air, sobbing and rocking. I panicked and stepped backward down the steps.
Someone caught me from behind. I cried out and twisted, fists pummeling blindly.
“Stop, stop!” Lucas caught my hands and made soothing sounds until I calmed enough to realize it was him.
“Zack’s gone—dead. And Troy’s in there. I mean in there. His soul is back. He’s pretty freaked out.”
Lucas nodded. “The other two are back, too. The squad’s already here, and they’re wiping their memories. They’ll take care of everything.”
I shivered. “Did they get someone in there to help Claire? She didn’t look good.”
“They called in a med team, and Bubba’s doing what he can until then.”
“Okay.” My voice was hoarse, and my throat hurt. “Who the hell is doing this?”
He shook his head. “All my leads have been dead ends so far.”
My eyes narrowed, and I shook myself loose from his hold. “You’ve been here for two months and you’ve got nothing?”
He scowled. “Until you got here, there’d only been one death and a missing person.”
I snorted. “I solved that missing person case right after I got here.” I felt the heat of flames flickering in my eyes. “You’re welcome.” I turned to walk off in a righteous huff.
He grabbed my arm and spun me around. He stared into my eyes with an expression of surprise on his face. “You’re djinn.”
“And you’re human.” I leaned toward him so he could get a good look at my flaming pupils. “Be careful to hang on to your soul, Aegis. The Hidden are the ones getting attacked, but it’s the humans whose souls are being borrowed to do it.” I broke away and left him standing with his jaw hanging open.
I was angry, sad, horrified and utterly exhausted. And yet, a tiny, ridiculous voice whispered by itself in back of my head.
I hoped he was staring at my ass as I walked away.
Chapter Eighteen
“Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me?” My hand hurt from gripping the phone as hard as I was. “You send me out here to solve a mystery, and you fail to tell me you already have someone out here working on it? I could have been collaborating with him, Art! We might have figured this out by now.”
“Kam, I’m sorry. Hear me out.”
“No. You hear me out. People are dead. They might not be if you’d given me all the information you had. You know, like there was someone already working on it. Are you trying to make me fail? ’Cause that’s what’s happening, here, Art.” I stopped, trying to catch my breath. This was getting me nowhere. I needed a drink. A strong one.
Art’s pen clicked in the background. “I did what I thought was best. I’m sorry if I misjudged the situation. But I need you to breathe and calm down long enough to talk to me, not yell.”
I took a deep breath, blew it out slowly and continued to yell at him. “Here I thought you trusted me. But you didn’t, did you? You didn’t trust me at all. You figured I’d just do something flighty and screw things up. Well, guess what, Art. I’ve got better things to do. Let your Aegis solve this.” I hung up the phone without giving him a chance to answer.
Ash stared at me. “Are you okay?”
“No.” I grabbed my duffel bag and shoved a handful of clothes from the dresser into it. “I’m leaving. If you want to come with me, you’re welcome. But I’m not sticking around another second.”
She didn’t move. “What about the murders?”
“Let Lucas figure it out. He’s been here working on it for months. Surely he’ll have the answer any minute.” I opened another drawer and gathered my T-shirts in one hand to cram into the bag. “Are you coming?”
Ash appeared next to me and took my elbow. “Come sit down for a second.”
I hesitated, not sure what to do with all my shirts. My hands shook, and my entire body burned with internal fire. I dropped the duffel bag but held on to the shirts as Ash led me to sit on the edge of one of the beds, then sat facing me.
“I know you’re mad.”
“Of course I’m mad. They lied to me.”
Sh
e stroked my arm with a cool hand. “No, actually Lucas had no idea you were on the case, too.”
“Well, Art lied.” I clutched my shirts as if they held some sort of childhood comfort. The sickly green one on the bottom smoked where my fingers touched it.
“He probably wanted you to go in cold in the hopes that you’d find something Lucas missed.”
“Which I did.” I jutted my chin out.
She nodded. “Which you did. So, Art’s plan was actually pretty good, right?”
I stared at the threadbare carpet. “I guess.” I was beginning to feel kind of stupid, especially since I was fully aware that I was being talked down from a ledge by a kid who wouldn’t be eighteen for two more days.
“What happens if Lucas catches who did it? He doesn’t have a soul stone. He won’t know what to do.”
I frowned. “I guess that’s true.”
“What if the bad guy tries to use the stolen soul stone on Lucas?”
I flinched. “He’ll be okay.” I knew that was a lie.
She took my hand in both of hers. “You’re the only one who can do this.”
She was right. Lucas might have been able to figure out who was doing all this, but he was vulnerable. I was the only one who couldn’t be affected by Pete’s stone, because I had one of my own to counteract it.
I nodded. “It has to be me.”
She smiled. “There you go.” She held her arms out. “You want to give me your shirts before you leave scorch marks on them?”
Feeling foolish, I handed her the garments. “Thanks. Probably too late on that khaki one.”
She put my clothes back in their drawer, then emptied the rest of the items from the duffel bag. “You packed my underwear, you know. Your drawer is on the left.”
I sat for a few minutes, cooling down, trying to regulate my body temperature. It wasn’t often that I lost my temper. I didn’t like how much work it took to bring myself back to a normal setting. “I suppose I should apologize to Lucas.”
Ash nodded. “Probably a good idea. Maybe you can finally collaborate and share what you both know.”
“Maybe I’ll rest a little first.” I scooted up the bed and curled up on my side. Coming down from an angry heat always left me tired and queasy.
“I doubt they’re done cleaning up over there. Nobody’s working tomorrow, since it’s Saturday. Maybe you could go see him then?”
I nodded. “Good idea. Maybe he’ll be easier to talk to in a normal setting outside the food trucks.” I yawned. “I probably should call Art and apologize, too. He’s probably going to click himself into an early grave.”
Ash handed me my phone. “Dial. I’ll talk.”
I smirked. “When did you get so bossy?”
“When you lost your shit and I had to take over.”
“Fair.” I touched Art’s number and handed the phone back.
“Art? This is Ash.” She paused, listening. “I’m Kam’s assistant. No, I’m sorry. She’s not available right now. But I’m calling to let you know there’s been no change. We’ll continue to do the job as usual. Due to the new circumstances, however, I’m to inform you that her rates have increased. Upon completion, she’ll be expecting a raise of twenty percent over the usual fee.” She turned and winked at me. “We’ll be in touch. Thank you.” She hung up.
I sat up, my jaw slack. “What did you just do?”
“I got you a raise.”
“Wait, he agreed?”
“Of course he agreed. He needs you.”
I dropped back on the pillow. “You’re insane. I mean, seriously, Kam-level insane. It’s like we’re really sisters or something.”
The smile that brought was beautiful. Ash, it seemed, needed me as much as I needed her. “I figured it was worth a try.” She climbed onto the other bed and kicked off her shoes. “I think I could use some rest, too. This has been a horrible day.”
I nodded, my eyes growing heavy. “I’ll get up when it gets dark and go back out. I think maybe it’s time to follow Merle home and see what he’s up to.”
* * *
The trauma of the day, the anger that came after and the exhaustion that followed it all took its toll. I didn’t wake up until almost ten that night.
Ash stirred when I came out of the bathroom and sat on my bed to put on my boots. “You want me to come with you and be the lookout?”
“No. You sleep. I won’t be long. I’m hoping he hasn’t left the café yet. I’d like to follow him.”
“What if he’s got a car?” She sat up and yawned.
I shook my head. “Penny made me think Merle might have sold everything to keep the café open a little longer. I have a hunch he lives in the neighborhood close to the café. If not, I’ll go to plan B.”
“What’s plan B?”
“There’s nothing the internet won’t give up if you ask it the right questions. I’ll find his house, even if he’s already left work. I’d just rather see what he does on the way home, if I can catch him.”
Ash glanced at the clock on the table. “You’d better get going, then. They close at eleven on Friday nights. Be safe.”
I nodded. “You, too. Don’t open the door to anyone.” I grabbed my leather jacket against the evening chill and took off toward the café. As I made my way down the sidewalk, I patted my jacket. It wasn’t often that I felt physically threatened, so usually the idea of any sort of weapon didn’t cross my mind. I’d never been a violent person, and my brothers had taught me enough to defend myself without anything to help me.
I had my soul stone, of course, but as a soul chaser, not a reaper, I didn’t have as many options. Reapers could use their stones to alter their voices, be more persuasive or create bubbles of safety against dangerous magic. Chasers didn’t get nearly as much training, and as a result, we couldn’t do as much. In the end, all I could really do was search for souls, collect souls from outside the body and note the stone’s reactions when other stones were in its vicinity.
Pretty much useless as weapons went.
Still, I did get myself into the occasional scrape. A few months before, I’d had a disagreement with a woman in a bar in North Dakota. She was of the opinion that I was scoping out her boyfriend and getting ready to make a move. I tried to explain to her that I was trying to read his T-shirt. It said, Before we screw, can you put this shirt over your face?, which was so incredibly offensive, I had to read it more than once to be sure I wasn’t making it up. But she wasn’t listening. I kind of felt sorry for her. He was a loud, misogynistic, sweat-stained grotesquerie, and he was all she had.
I bought her a drink and figured that was the end of it.
Later, she caught me off guard in the parking lot with a beer bottle to the head. I didn’t even have time to flinch. I woke up a few minutes later with a nasty gash, pebbles stuck to my cheek and a crowd standing around looking down at me. Also, the bitch took my shoes. They were really cute shoes, too. Polka-dot heels with little pink bows.
So, I decided I needed a weapon—though logically, I couldn’t have used it if I’d had it that night, since she’d caught me off guard. But I went out looking for something simple and nonlethal. I came back with a retractable police baton.
I could hit people without leaving permanent damage, and it folded up in my inner jacket pocket. Sweet. After I bought it, I’d put it in my duffel bag and forgot all about it.
Tonight, though. Tonight I might need to hit someone without leaving permanent damage. I checked the weight of it in my pocket again and kept walking, satisfied that I was safe, alone in the dark, with soulless homeless folks being commanded to kill me. I didn’t want to hurt anybody, and I didn’t want them to hurt me, either.
I arrived across the street from the café as the lights on the sign went out. A few minutes later, Laney and anoth
er waitress I didn’t recognize came out together and crossed the street away from both the café and me to a parking lot. Merle exited last and locked the door.
Merle didn’t follow the women to the parking lot. He turned the other way, walked a few yards, made a sharp left and disappeared into the alley.
I groaned. “Ah, come on, Merle. Really?” I waited to see if he’d return—maybe he had some trash to throw away before leaving. But he didn’t reappear. With a heavy sigh, I crossed the street and followed him in.
The alley was dark, but the moon was closer to full than it had been a few nights ago, and the night was cloudless, so I was able to see a little better than last time. Even so, there was no sign of Merle. I moved carefully, past the Dumpster and the wall splattered with something unknown, on to where Anna’s body had been found, and farther to where I’d found Sandra. Nothing moved in the shadows around me or ahead.
I pulled the soul stone from under my shirt. It made a low buzzing sound, faint but clear. Occasionally, a tiny spark darted across its surface. After a moment, it stopped and went silent.
Not much help. That meant there was either a loose soul or another stone somewhere within a mile of where I was standing. I’d tried playing hotter or colder with my stone to track the other. It hadn’t worked because the other stone wasn’t constantly in use.
I continued down the alley. Maybe Merle’s house was out past Homer’s. Hell, maybe Merle was staying at Homer’s. I took a few steps forward and stopped when a light went on behind me. I turned and saw a window on the second floor of a building I’d already passed was illuminated.
Curious, I backtracked and stood against the far wall so I could see up into the room.
The light shone from the living room of an apartment. I saw a plaid sofa with a blanket over the back, a small television and a table with a lamp. It was difficult to make out any details. Merle moved into the room and set his hat on the table. He collapsed onto the sofa, thumbing through a small pile of mail.
I crept forward, trying to get a better look. The building next to his had a fire escape with a landing not far from Merle’s window. Boxes piled under the escape gave me a good foothold, and I climbed until I reached the short ladder, swung around and pulled myself up. The view was almost too good. I’d have to hold perfectly still to keep Merle from noticing me. I was only a few feet from his window.