by Jackie May
“Yes, now. We’re about to cross something else off my bucket list.” I pull him up the aisle.
Russo calls after me. “Who’s the badge bunny now?”
“Save our seats,” I demand.
“Take your time,” he says, beaming with pride for his partner.
I march Brenner straight to the parking garage, battling against the flow of crowds hurrying into the stadium. Pinning him against his car with a hungry kiss, I jam my hands into his pockets, searching for keys, unlocking the doors, pushing him into the back seat. Our hands are all over each other. We’re thumping against seats and doors and the ceiling. He unsnaps my pants. I push his shirt up to his chest, purring, “Let’s try this again.”
After pushing Brenner’s shirt up, I’m tracing my tongue along the deep lines between each of his rock-hard abs when both doors are suddenly jerked open, enormous hands yank Brenner out of the car, and I’m shot in the back.
The first thing I’m aware of is music—’70s disco funk with a bass line so deep it rattles my stomach. A pungent aroma assaults my nose. It smells rotten and sweet at the same time. I feel the hum and sway of a moving car. The jolt of a speed bump sends a spike of pain up my spine, reminding me of the gunshot. It dawns on me that somebody shot me in the back. How am I not dead?
My eyes snap open to a surreal scene. Slumped in a bench seat facing me is a great, big fat man with no shirt on. He is flanked by muscled henchmen, also shirtless. All three of them suck on tubes attached to a crystal hookah, bubbling with a bright blue liquid. The men bob their heads in unison to the music. The fat man bulges his eyes at me, waggling artificial eyebrows made of red ruby studs. His giant head is bald and shiny. On his vast belly is a tattoo of a red diamond, with a demon sigil inside it.
The Diamond Dog. Rubicon “Ruby” Paizo, demon master of the west side horde. Everybody’s heard of him, but nobody outside his horde ever sees him. He’s a total recluse. Now I see why. He and his shirtless menservants are rocking their shoulders back and forth with the music, their eyes staring at me. It’s such an absurd sight, I could almost laugh, if not for the Diamond Dog’s reputation for literally ripping heads off.
Brenner sits next to me with a pillowcase over his head. When I tear it away, he flinches back, expecting to be attacked. His lips and nose are bleeding. One eyebrow is split open, but there’s no swelling yet, so I couldn’t have been out long. A few minutes, maybe.
“Shayne,” he rasps, “you were…there was a shot.”
“No, I’m okay.”
Brenner sags with relief and takes my hand.
Ruby Paizo smiles, takes one last pull on the hookah pipe, then says, “You’re right; there was a shot. A tranquilizer. Put a horse down for hours, but for a shifter, it’s nothing but a tickle.” His voice is a gritty croak, yet it’s surprisingly dainty at the same time. He sounds like an old grandma who smoked all her life. “You know who I am?”
My eyes go to his sigil tattoo. “The Diamond Dog.”
He grabs his belly and jiggles it. “Well, I ain’t Santa Claus.” He laughs, elbowing the ribs of a henchman. Immediately, the thug leans forward and slugs Brenner in the jaw. Ruby pulls his guard back. “Wait, dammit, I didn’t mean it like that. Look, I was just giving you a little elbow, because I made a joke. You know, a joke?” The henchman gives no response. Ruby shakes his head at us. “So touchy.”
I try to control the tremor in my voice. “What do you want?”
The glittering rubies that make up his eyebrows raise with a kind of sadness. “Do you know, that’s the first thing everybody asks me. It’s like magic. Somehow, everybody knows that if I’m talking to them, it means I want something. Whatever happened to small talk? Chit chat? ‘How you doing, Ruby? Are you caught up on Stranger Things yet?’”
“You shot me with a tranquilizer.”
He gives a gleeful smile. “First time?”
“Last time,” Brenner growls.
“Ooooh, good answer,” Ruby says, genuinely impressed. “You hear that? Get a load of this guy, would ya?” He elbows the same henchman in the ribs. The henchman launches forward and socks Brenner in the face. Brenner blacks out, slumping onto my shoulder. I pat his face to wake him up. This time, there is no apology from Ruby. He sucks on the hookah pipe, bobbing to the music until, finally, Brenner comes to with a groan. “Enough chit chat,” Ruby announces. “Now we can talk about what I want.”
I know what he wants. “Payback.”
He bats eyelashes heavy with mascara. “Payback? Why, whatever for?”
“For breaking up your little street race, which I could have won, by the way.”
“We’ll never know, will we?”
“You had my car.”
“A 2006 Pontiac. Truly hideous.”
“I only took back what was mine.”
“Only?” For the first time, Ruby drops the smile. His eyes lose their spark, turning cold and dead, unblinking. “If you had only taken back what was yours, I wouldn’t be here.”
I don’t like this sudden shift in mood. The music still thumps away, but the demons no longer bob to it. Their dead stares make my flesh crawl. “You’re right,” I stammer, “I…I needed a distraction, and so…”
“And so…you blew up the crown jewel of my car collection.”
“No.”
“No?” Ruby goes to elbow his henchman again.
“No, yes!” I spit out. “Yes, that happened, but it’s not what was supposed to happen, I swear.”
He blinks, and his mouth drops open. “Oh. Oh my. It wasn’t supposed to happen, did you hear that, boys? Well, heavens to Hades! This has all just been a misunderstanding. She didn’t mean for any of this to happen. My two-hundred-thousand-dollar muscle car wasn’t supposed to be wrapped in chains, and it wasn’t supposed to be hooked onto a crane, and it wasn’t supposed to be hauled thirty feet up in the air by its ass.”
“No, no, all that was supposed to happen. It’s just the next thing that…”
“Hm? The next thing?”
“Right. The…” I make a gesture with my hands of an explosion. “The whole dropping out of the sky and going boom thing. That part wasn’t supposed to happen. That was a mistake.”
“A mistake. I see.” Ruby’s thin, pale lips stretch into a mirthless grin. “Whose?”
“What?”
“Whose mistake? You were driving. I know that a man met you on the street. He left a stolen truck. Another man must have been working the crane, and another man must have attached those chains to my darling. The chains, see, they were the weak link, literally. If it’s not your fault, then tell me whose it is. Who hooked up the chains?”
This is no help to me. Brenner hooked up the chains, and Ruby probably knows that. He’s toying with me. When I don’t answer, he elbows his man. Before the demon can unleash a swing at Brenner, I surge forward and bury my claws into the man’s jugular. He lets out a painful gurgle, Ruby screams at me, and a gun presses against my head. Brenner pulls my hand back, releasing the henchman. The other bodyguard keeps his gun trained on my face.
“You owe me!” Ruby screeches. “A lover for a lover, Ms. Davies. I’m a greed demon. That car had greater hold on my heart than any man could ever have on yours.”
“That’s just pathetic.”
“And yet this is all happening because you couldn’t stand to be without your Pontiac. Seems there may be a fair bit of greed demon in you, too, Shayne Davies.”
I have no answer for that, because…truth hurts. Ruby’s right about me being greedy. And Rook’s right about me being blind. And Gorgeous is right about me being stupid. And Mom’s right about me being immature. All of those truths became obvious to me once I started sharing a life with Jay Brenner. Those truths will also be what gets Brenner killed. I know it.
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of killing him.” Ruby spreads a content grin at Brenner. “Then again, sometimes things happen that aren’t supposed to happen. You understand.”
Th
e car makes a sudden stop. Thinking we’ve arrived in the west side, my heart races with panic. Ruby calls up to the front, annoyed. “What is it?”
“This jackass spun out on the ice,” the driver says, honking at a black sedan. “California driver!”
“Take the alley,” Rubicon orders.
We back up and turn into a narrow alley that I recognize with dread. We’re only three blocks from west side territory. Once we cross that border, it would take an army to get us out.
“There’s got to be something I can do,” I blurt. “Pay you back somehow. I can get things. It’s what I do.”
“Fine. Get my darling back.”
Wheels spinning in my brain. Impossible. “Okay, yeah…I mean, if you give me a parts list, I can probably—”
“A parts list?” He snarls. “Sure, honey. Once I’ve made a parts list of Detective Brenner, we’ll trade. Fair?”
“We took down the East Side horde. Arael Moaz was your biggest rival, and now he’s gone for good because of us. That’s got to be worth something.”
“It is,” Ruby agrees. “That’s why I’m only taking one of you.”
“Me, then!” I blurt. “Take me.”
“No, Shayne,” Brenner says.
“Let Brenner go—”
“Shayne, stop.”
Overcome with hysterical rage, I kick at Ruby, but Brenner pins me to the seat, wrangling my feet to keep them from making contact. Ruby giggles, amused by my tantrum. “Oh, but Miss Davies, you have to understand, greed demons aren’t known for being patient, and if I wanted you dead, I’d have to take a number. Listen, I feel that I should say you need to be worried. How did I know exactly where you would be tonight? Think about that. People you know—people who are close to you, Shayne—are willing to give that info up to dangerous third parties like myself. You see, that’s what happens to traitors. Hell, with your standing in the underworld at the moment, being under my roof might be the safest place in Detroit.” He bulges his eyes at me again. “Which is why I’m cutting you loose.”
“Who was it?” Brenner asks. “Who told you where to find us?”
Ruby smirks. “You’re asking me? You two are the super detectives.”
“Russo,” I offer.
Brenner shakes his head. “Not a chance.”
“Who, then, Jay? Your contact? You said you pulled strings to get us those seats.”
Brenner’s shoulders drop. He knows I’m right.
“Who was it? Who got us those seats? Jay?” He won’t answer. His eyes swim with both confusion and anger. “Jay, who was it?”
Behind me, the driver curses loudly. “What the hell’s with people tonight?” He stomps the brakes. In the alley ahead, another black sedan races straight for us. The alley’s not wide enough for two cars to pass. The driver shifts into reverse and backs up, only to stomp the brakes again. Behind us, the alley is blocked by yet another black sedan. Its doors fly open. FBI agents leap out, guns drawn. Brenner throws himself over me just as bullets start pounding Ruby’s car, flattening all four tires at once. The back door is flung open. The henchman with the gun yelps as a tattooed arm jerks him out of the car. Special Agent Hillerman takes his vacated spot next to Ruby. Even though it’s night, her eyes are hidden behind black sunglasses.
“I don’t know who the hell you are,” Ruby blusters, “but I’ll give you exactly three seconds to get out.” Ruby elbows his henchman, who goes for his gun.
Hillerman, cool as ice, raises one hand, as if to say stop. Screaming in pain, the henchman seems to split in two. A dark figure—like a shadow—is ripped from his body. Terrified, the demon spirit clutches at its mortal body, desperate to stay. Hillerman doesn’t hesitate. With a flick of her wrist, she makes a swoosh motion with her hand, as if swiping on her phone, and the demon spirit is flung out of the car with a terrifying shriek. The henchman’s body, now vacant, slumps against the door.
Ruby stares at her with wide eyes. He jams the hookah pipe into his mouth and sucks furiously. Hillerman swats the tube away, kicks the crystal hookah over, and slams her fist into Ruby’s chest, ejecting vapor from his nostrils with an oof!
“Exorcist!” he wheezes, eyes watering.
“Who’s running the necromancer ring?” she asks calmly.
“I…I know you.”
“Who’s running the necromancy ring?”
“Demon hunter. Banisher. Judge, jury, executioner.”
“Who’s running the necromancy ring?”
“The girl who fought back! That’s what they called you.”
So far, Hillerman hasn’t spared a single glance our way. She seems not at all surprised to find Brenner and me here. And I know why. “She’s your contact?” I ask Brenner. “Of all people, her?”
“It was last minute,” he defends. “Seats opened up for a Tigers game, so she thought of you. It was thoughtful.”
“It was a setup!”
Ruby sneers at Brenner. “Oh, wake up! She played you.”
I nod in agreement. “Thank you! Jay, she used us as bait to get to him!”
Brenner throws his hands out. “You’re taking his side?”
“You’re taking her side!” I clap back. “Way worse!”
“Worse than a demon?”
Ruby laughs. Low and chuckling at first, but then exploding into riotous cackling. “Worse than a demon? Worse than a demon! You mean, you don’t know?” He throws a pointed look at Hillerman, as if to allow her a moment to explain herself.
She returns that inscrutable stare from behind her black shades and repeats, “Who’s running the necromancy ring?”
Ruby erupts with giggles. “Oh, the hypocrisy! Do you suppose any old person can go around expelling demons at whim? See the Deep world? Know our real names? Hear our whispers? Know everything about demons?” He flinches back when Hillerman raises a finger of warning. Ruby’s glee turns to defiance. “Takes one to know one,” he hisses.
My brain reels. Hillerman, a demon? I trade looks with Brenner. He looks skeptical, doesn’t buy it for a second. But I’m not so sure. It would explain a lot about her powers, like Ruby said. But Nick Gorgeous had told me all about Hillerman’s supernatural fetishes—the necklace she wears, with all the teeth from different underworld races. I see it now, draped over her collarbone, dangling eyeteeth of vampires and fangs from shifters. Nick thought she was getting her power from those. At the end of the day, though, we always come right back to the same sticking point: When it comes to the true story behind Agent Hillerman, nobody knows shit.
Ruby gloats. “What now, exorcist? If you try to silence me, it only makes you look more guilty—aaggh!” His entire body shakes violently, as if struck by lightning. Hillerman has spread all five fingers wide, drawing on her exorcist powers. Ruby foams at the mouth, gurgling in pain. Not one, but five different shadow faces emerge from the top of his head. They wail in unison, an unholy, nightmarish sound.
Hillerman closes her hand into a fist. The dark spirits snap back into Ruby’s head, and he slumps back, gasping with relief, eyes rolling. “You’re soft, Ruby,” she taunts. “Arael Moaz was much harder to break, and he was on his deathbed.”
He shudders. “You wouldn’t! With both Arael and me gone, the power void would attract things much worse than us. You know it would.”
“What if I am that worse thing, Ruby?”
Now it’s my turn to shudder. I can believe it. So can Ruby. He’s practically whimpering.
“Say my name,” she says. “If I’m a demon, say my real name.”
“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t dare. But there is something in you. I see it in the corners of your eyes.”
It’s the wrong answer. Hillerman raises the one finger again.
“No!” Ruby cries. He throws his hands up to protect himself.
“We know the East Side is trying to form a necro ring. King Paul was their latest attempt. Their latest failure, I should say. Before him, it was Elijah. But they’re just acolytes. Who’s teaching them? Who�
�s the ringleader?”
Brenner sits forward, interested. These are the same questions he wants answered.
Ruby shakes his head, which shakes his belly. “You’re asking me about necros? What do I want with that business? Death and corpses? Ask me about offshore bank accounts or my hoard of Nintendo Switches. Greed demon, remember?”
“Good. Then you have zero interest in necromancy?”
“Zero.”
“No use for revenants?”
“Zombies? Ew.”
“Perfect. So, you definitely would have declined an audience with a summoner?”
Ruby hesitates. And that’s all Hillerman needs to see. She spreads her fingers wide, zapping Ruby with a blast of stunning power. The shadow creatures burst from his bald dome, clutching and scraping at his face, desperate to remain in his body. While keeping the pressure on with her spread fingers, Hillerman turns to us casually, as if bored with a TV show. “Necros can’t do shit without a demon summoner. Necros animate the body, summoners pull a demon from the Deep to inhabit the body. Gotta have both.”
It’s hard to hear her over the shrieking demons. Ruby’s face has turned a deep red to match the ruby studs on his brow. Through clenched teeth, he rasps an unintelligible word. Hillerman tilts an ear toward his mouth. The demon spirits are nearly free. Only their feet remain inside Ruby’s head. A few more seconds, and they’re gone. “I…did…not…” he grunts. “I didn’t! I didn’t!”
Hillerman makes a fist. The tangle of ghosts are sucked back into Ruby’s body like a retracting tape measure. He sags into the seat, flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat.
Pulling the hookah upright, Hillerman offers him a tube. Ruby takes a greedy pull, pinning her with bulging, wary eyes.
After allowing him a moment to recover, she asks, “Didn’t what?”
“Didn’t decline. When she came to me, I agreed to meet. But I didn’t accept her offer! I swear, I heard her out, is all. A demon summoner, that’s like nobility. You don’t brush them off. Got to show proper respect.”
“A woman?”