Nikki placed his third cappuccino in front of him.
The sharp acrid smell perked him up, and he sipped this time rather than glugging as he had the previous two cups.
In contrast, Nikki was fresh and rested. Her wild black curls were glossy, and she wore a smart black skirt and blouse. Three months ago she had announced the date she and Juan were getting married and extended invitations to everyone. Straight afterward she’d informed them her Goth phase was over and done with—except for the black boots which she refused to abandon and from that day on she dressed professionally at work. Nobody commented on the fact that every skirt or pair of pants she wore was black.
Zhanna, a six-inch faerie of the Irayisi race, wore a navy blue classic suit, her silver hair pulled into a tight, sleek bun, and had positioned herself on the table between the two elves. Her gold tinted eyes flashed, her gossamer wings fluttered, and her sparkly star-topped wand emitted sporadic bursts of rainbow sparkles. She had fallen in love the second she saw the new visitors, and when she thought no one was looking, she’d steal glances at their perfect profiles. She insisted that as the Faerie Queen’s ambassador to Tropolis, she was best placed to take care of them.
As JB finished his drink, Gemma rushed in looking as if all she had done was shower and swap yesterday’s dirty outfit for an identical clean one. Her long red mess of curls was scraped back into an untidy braid–though the bandana was fresh–and she, too, looked haggard. “Jason sends his apologies, but he’s still not well enough to work,” she muttered as she passed JB. She sagged into her chair, opened her messenger bag, got out her laptop, and tapped at the keyboard.
JB stared at her for a second, his mouth tightening, then switched his attention to business. “Casanova, would you share your information with everybody?”
The elf, wearing one of JB’s old T-shirts emblazoned with the logo ‘Fools Are Not Tolerated’ pushed himself to his feet.
“No, not a speech, just tell them what you told me.” JB swallowed his irritation.
Casanova sank back into his seat. “I must stress the need for absolute secrecy in this matter. The reason we’ve come to your city is because a close companion of the princess who’d been covering for her absence, revealed that she’d been visiting Tropolis, and has a werewolf boyfriend.”
“Woah, never saw that coming,” Nikki muttered in an aside to Gemma.
“Imagine the kids” Gemma whispered back.
“A really hairy elf—”
“Or a hairless wolf with huge pointy ears.”
“This is a joke to you?” Casanova fumed, almost spitting across the table at them. “My people have much to lose if we cannot find her before the summer solstice. That means we have six days. ” He ended with a deep sigh, and shot a dirty look at Gemma and Nikki.
“That’s Nikki’s wedding day, too!” Zhanna waved her wand and a circle of rainbow lights danced around Nikki’s head. Nikki batted them aside.
“Broken treaties and war, I think is what he told me,” JB said.
Zhanna settled on Casanova’s shoulder, patting his ear. “There, there. JB will discover where she is, and you’ll bring her home to her future husband.”
“Do you know the name of this boyfriend?” Gemma asked.
“Didi. Princess Selendriel is willful, and we suspect she wanted a bit of freedom before her eighteenth birthday. “Romeo’s voice was soft with affection.” She is expected to marry, be a good wife, and bear many children for her husband. Her life will be one of court duties and responsibilities to the realm.”
“Bummer,” said Nikki.
“Yeah, difficult choice,” added Gemma.
JB’s fingers tapped the table. “Okay. Zhanna, I want you to look after Casanova and Romeo—”
“This is our quest.” Both elves leapt to their feet, reaching for their swords before realizing they’d left them in JB’s apartment. “You will not leave us behind.”
JB shook his head. “Give me strength,” he mumbled under his breath. “I have several ongoing cases which I and my team have to deal with, although your search is our priority. I give you my word, I will consult you and bring you in on whatever we learn about the princess.”
Zhanna flew up and patted first Casanova’s cheek, then Romeo’s. “Come with me,” she said, and with a flourish of her wand covered the princes with a shower of glittering sparkles. “I shall show you the internet, one of the wonders of this world, and teach you how to shop. Is that okay with you, JB? The princes can’t walk about wearing second hand clothes. It’s just not right.”
“Fine. Add it to their bill. No designer stuff.”
“The interwhat?” asked Romeo, following Zhanna and Casanova into the first of two private interview rooms, currently known as the Faerie Embassy.
JB waited till the door shut behind their visitors. “Let’s check the schedule and figure out how we’re going to fit in a search for a missing teenage heir to the elven throne. Did you get the paperwork finished and sent to Captain Deekgrak?”
“Tick,” said Nikki.
“Do we have anything else pending?” JB rubbed his hands through his hair.
“Yes,” said Gemma. “Remember Mrs. Fenchurch?”
“Remind me.” JB stood and stretched.
Gemma avoided looking at his lean torso, the muscles shifting underneath his T-shirt as he stretched.
“More coffee anyone?” JB asked, heading for the coffee machine.
“Yeah, sure,” said Gemma, rooting in her purse. “Mrs. Fenchurch was that old lady who came in last week. The poor thing went to a psychic wanting to know if she’d find a companion after her husband died, and now has precious little money left. Naturally, there’s no trace of the swindler anywhere in town. However I got a tip from a contact in the Fraud Squad. They’ve been tracking a psychic scamming vulnerable women who sounds like the one we’re looking for. "Here,” she unfolded a scrap of paper. “The place is over on Lyndon Street, out by the old industrial district. I could go and see if she matches the description Mrs. Fenchurch gave. Unless it’s a shifter or someone using glamour to change their appearance, in which case it won’t help.”
“How many background checks on the list?” JB asked as he put Gemma’s steaming cup down next to her laptop.
Nikki tapped her keyboard. “The same three that were on the list before we went chasing goblins. No new requests so far this week.”
“Call all your contacts and ask if anyone knows or has heard anything about a werewolf dating an elf,” JB said. “It shouldn’t be too hard to locate them. They’re probably holed up in some student digs, eating pizza and ice-cream, and playing video games. Nikki, ask Zhanna to contact her people as well, and get started on those checks today. Gemma, if Jason was here, I’d send him with you as I’ve got a couple of contacts I want to drop in on. Instead you and I will start by making a visit to that address.”
Gemma didn’t answer, but gathered up her bag, threw back the coffee, and stomped down the stairs ahead of JB.
The house was a three-story tenement on the outskirts of the city’s former manufacturing district. The building was one of the few not boarded up or graced with graffiti from local budding artists.
JB parked opposite the building.
“Madame Mari, Psychic to the Stars,” Gemma read aloud, flipping the card over. She rang the number. “No answer, just a, ‘Sorry to miss your call,’ message. Perhaps she’s with a client?”
“Let’s go check if she’s home, “JB suggested, studying the house. “If she is, maybe she’ll squeeze you in for a reading.”
Dodging the traffic, they crossed the road, grateful to get out of the heat into the shade. JB pressed every number on the calling pad.
After five minutes a short man wearing a Popeye logo on his faded gray T-shirt and with an overlarge mustache opened the door. “What do you want? I’ve no rooms to rent.” He talked with a nasal whine and his gaze shifted constantly between JB, Gemma, the street, and back to the couple.
<
br /> “I have a two thirty appointment with Madame Mari. I know I’m a—”
“That’s not possible.” The man crossed his arms and stared belligerently at them.
“I can assure you, I have an appointment,” Gemma insisted.
“Oh, that’s entirely possible, but not right now you haven’t. Are you sure you got the right place?” His tired blue eyes squinted suspiciously. “Madame Mari won’t be here until later. She’s number thirteen, second floor. In case you don’t know, vampires are only awake at night.”
“See, Sugarplum.” JB turned to Gemma, his eyes twinkling and his voice dripping with smug reproof. “I told you so. You know you always get these things wrong.” He couldn’t resist the opportunity to wind Gemma up. “We’ll return later. Thanks.”
Chapter Four: Freeway Motel, Room 301, 12 pm
A long swathe of thick black velvet cloth had been attached to the top of the closed blinds sealing out even the tiniest errant sunbeam. The perfect circle of purple candles around the double bed in the center of the darkened airless room guttered, and the shadows lengthened.
Jason lay on the bed naked and drifting in and out of consciousness. His arms and legs, pale in the dim light, were spread-eagled and his wrists and ankles cuffed to the wooden bedstead. A sheet covered his lower half and his torso was sheened in sweat. He moaned, a low hurt sound, and his eyes opened, flickering from side to side as he writhed, agitatedly pulling at the restraints. His desperate efforts to escape had rubbed the skin raw, and blood stained the cuffs and the bedding.
A naked slender female figure—narrow-waisted, high breasts, tight buttocks, and long slim legs—stood by the bedside. A tangle of waist length dark hair hid her face as she stared down at the supine figure. She raised a delicate clawed hand and pushed her mane back over her shoulder. Her pupils were black, and instead of white, her eyes glowed ruby red. A smile of anticipation lifted the corner of her lips as she ripped the sheet off, and her gaze roved up and down her straining captive. “Jason, sweet, sweet Jason, I think you will serve me well for a while longer.”
Jason twisted and pulled on his restraints with more desperation. “No, no.” He mustn’t think about Gemma. He mustn’t. This creature mustn’t find out about Gemma. All he could make out in the shifting shadows was the dim outline of the creature who’d ensnared him.
The demoness tossed the sheet aside. She paused, her forked tongue flicking out and licking her lips in anticipation. “What a rare delicacy an exotic taste like yours is.”
“Please, please, no more.” His voice, no more than a rough rasp, was barely audible.
“You poor boy. I told you no one would hear your cries for help. Look what’s happened. You’ve shouted yourself hoarse.”
Jason frenziedly tried to free himself, his mouth moving in protest, but only a cracked whisper emerged.
She licked the blood at his wrist, her tongue scaping the raw wound, and shivered in delight.
The instant she touched him, he ceased struggling, his breath coming in short rapid pants.
She laughed, a honeyed seductive sound that caressed every nerve and fiber in Jason’s body. “There, that’s better, my sweet.” She laid an elegant hand on his chest, and a flash of power flooded through him.
He arched in pleasure, shivers of seductive rapture running through him, then lay still, waiting.
“There’s that’s much more enjoyable, isn’t it?” She peeled back her crimson lips revealing pointed teeth, climbed onto the bed, and straddled Jason. With slow deliberate care she raked his torso, her claws leaving thin lines of blood where she’d sliced his flesh, and adding to the numerous half-healed incisions crisscrossing his skin.
Jason bucked beneath her touch, groaning in pleasure as she stoked his lust.
She leaned over him, her hair teasing his skin, and put her mouth to his, bit hard and sucked again. “Say you love me,” she demanded.
“Yes, yes,” Jason croaked. “I love you.”
“Good boy.” She shifted herself lower down on Jason’s pliant body, her nails raking his chest again. “It’s lunch time, Jason, and my energy levels are dropping. Your blood make a great aperitif, my sweet boy, but I need more of your essence than that. Let’s you and me have a party.”
Chapter Five: Jeff’s Diner, 1pm.
JB and Gemma sat in the booth in the corner farthest from the entrance, with JB facing the door. Gemma paused, before sliding into the opposite seat, ceding the prime spot to him—though both preferred to sit where they could monitor the comings and goings of the other customers. JB had eaten his burger, but left the fries and the bun; Gemma had finished her salad, pushing aside the tortilla wrap, and the table was littered with plates, refilled coffee cups, their phones and notebooks.
“Thanks for lunch.” Gemma picked up her phone, checking her calls. “Sorry if I've been a bitch lately.”
“You have?” JB leaned back and laughed. His laugh was infectious, and she joined in. They ended up smiling at each other, something they’d not done much of lately. Neither mentioned Jason. “Okay, good. We got time before we return to Madame Mari. I’ve a werewolf contact not too far from here who might know where we can find this Didi.”
“Can’t you phone them?” Gemma queried.
“Where possible I prefer face-to-face meetings. Makes for a stronger relationship and it’s easier to gauge if someone's telling the truth or not.”
Chen’s Service Center and Dealership wasn’t far, although the area was more upmarket judging by the price of the shiny new and used vehicles filling the front lot. JB parked in the customer parking lot around the side of the glass-fronted sales office. He nodded at the dreadlocked muscular salesman standing outside and marched straight in with Gemma close behind. After JB’s request to speak to the boss, the receptionist, a fresh-faced girl in her late teens, led them through into the large back office.
“Welcome!” Chen exclaimed, coming around to the front of his highly polished mahogany desk. “How you doing, JB? You’re looking good.” Like many werewolves, Chen was big—six feet four and twice the width of JB. He crushed JB to his massive chest in a brief forceful man-hug.
Once JB regained the use of his lungs, he beckoned Gemma forward. “Gemma, this is Chen. Chen, this is Gemma.”
Chen extended a large hand, swallowing Gemma’s, while giving her an appreciative once over. “Sit down, sit down.” Chen moved over to the expensive sofa and chairs, where he probably conducted a fair amount of his business.
“Gemma’s part of my team,” JB explained as they made themselves comfortable on the sofa.
“Coffee?” Chen asked.
JB looked at Gemma, who gave a slight shake of her head. “Thanks, but no. We’re good.”
“I see the car’s fine, so what can I do for you today?”
“I have taken on a case, and you can understand I’m not at liberty to reveal the details. However, I can tell you it’s a delicate matter and involves a werewolf.”
Chen’s eyes narrowed. Werewolves lived and breathed loyalty.
“No, no, there’s no crime or wrongdoing involved. I can assure you the kid is not in any trouble at all with the law or with anyone else in Tropolis. I do need to talk with him, though I only have a first name, and have no idea which pack—could be local, possibly not. I give you my word, Chen, the werewolf in question isn’t on any wanted list. I just want to talk.” JB kept his voice casual.
“What’s the name?”
“Didi.”
Chen didn’t answer straight away, and the silence stretched. “Didi is a nickname, but leave it with me and I’ll do some checking.”
“Thanks, Chen. Add it to those other favors I owe you.”
“Keep this up, and I’ll own a share of your agency one of these days.” The werewolf grinned, flashing his white teeth and sharp canines.
JB laughed. “Sure, you and half of Tropolis.”
“Okay, where next?” Gemma asked, winding down the window, and grateful for the br
eeze as they left Chen’s. A warm flow of air was better than none, and JB’s car had no aircon.
“East Side, though we’re going to get stuck in downtown traffic.”
“We’ve got time. Our vamp won’t be awake for a while yet.”
The atmosphere was easy between them, and the afternoon heat warmed JB’s bones after the aircon of Chen’s office.
“What’s wrong with Jason? Is he really sick?”
Gemma’s mouth turned down at the corners. “Yes. He went to the doctor this morning.”
“I’m asking as his employer. There’s forms to fill out and stuff. What kind of problem is he having?”
Gemma’s answer was a grunt, and the good mood faded as both retreated into their thoughts during the drive.
It took a full hour and a half to make it to their destination. As JB swung off the highway, and parked in a small alley to the left of the Sweet Blood Vamp Bar, Gemma’s fingers drummed a nervous rhythm on the flap of her messenger bag. When JB got out, she stayed where she was until he looked at her with raised eyebrows and beckoned her to come. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly before getting out of the car.
JB tapped a few numbers into the electronic door pad.
“Who is it?”
“Chima, open up!”
Chima laughed as he buzzed them in.
The door to Chima’s apartment was open when they reached the top of the narrow staircase.
“Come on in,” he shouted, “I’ll be out in a second.”
“This place is tidier than it used to be,” JB commented as he checked out Chima’s sizeable apartment with its new pale oak flooring, and white, steel and gray décor. “This is so much better than the red velvet drapes and black painted walls he had before.” He looked over at Gemma, but she had her head down, sorting through her bag.
Sorcerous Deeds: Special Investigators for the Magickally Challenged. An Urban Fantasy Novella. (Adept Solutions Book 2) Page 2