Hank Mossberg, Private Ogre: Murder in the Boughs

by Jamie Sedgwick

  “Nice place,” she said. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised. I thought you’d take me to Malachi’s like all the other guys.”

  I smiled weakly. “Well, I try to be different.”

  “No need to try, honey. They don’t make ‘em like you anymore.”

  “That’s a fact,” I said.

  “Does that bother you?”

  “What?”

  “The fact that you’re the last one, that there’s no one else like you?”

  “I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “A man doesn’t necessarily need his own kind. I’ve got friends.”

  “Friends are different,” she said. “You know what I mean.”

  I smiled uncomfortably. I’m not used to conversation getting that personal that fast. “Have you had any more problems with the Kaiser gang?” I said, forcing a change of subject.

  She smiled and deftly accepted the change. “No, thanks to you. In fact, my business has gone up since you chased them off. It’s almost like my customers can sense the cloud hanging over the place is gone, and now they’re coming back.”

  “Good to hear,” I said.

  We seemed to be on the right track. Somewhere, out there in the night, Magnus must have sensed I was having a good time because Zaxyl suddenly appeared. He settled down at the edge of the table and reached across my plate, snatching up a slice of the bread that the waiter had left as an appetizer.

  “Why you little-” I reached out to smack him and he danced back, towards Annie.

  “Awe, he’s cute!” she said. She stroked his furry little head and he happily climbed up onto her shoulder, making faces at me. “Cute like a baby viper,” I snarled.

  Annie was enthralled with him. “What’s your name, little fella?”

  He said something that sounded patently cute, like one of those furry little creatures in the Gremlins movie. In fact, he probably copied it word for word. Figures the little snit would have seen the movie. He was a gremlin, after all. Annie giggled and sighed, and pressed her face up against him.

  “His name is Zaxyl,” I said. “He’s a gremlin and he belongs to Magnus. Be careful, he pees on people.”

  Annie’s eyes widened. Zaxyl threw a chunk of bread crust at me and then stuck out his tongue and blew me a raspberry. Annie broke out in laughter. “You’re amazing, do you know that?” she said. Her eyes were starry, impossibly beautiful.

  “Amazing?” I laughed quietly. “What are you talking about?”

  “What you do; the courage you have. I fear for what this city would be like without you.”

  “I’m nothin’ special,” I said. “I’m just doing my job.”

  “Yes, it’s your job, but it’s more than that. The people of this city, they respect you. They’re awed by you.”

  I shrugged, staring into my wineglass. “No, not me. They might be awed by my position, by what I am. They respect that tradition I suppose. The stewards have always been given respect.”

  “You think so? You think you have this power over people because of tradition? I’ve got news for you Hank, the fae don’t care about tradition anymore than humans do. They don’t give you this respect, this power out of obligation. They give it to you because you demand it.”

  I swirled the wine and took a drink. It was suddenly bitter. “I don’t demand anything.”

  She smiled. She was radiant. “You don’t demand it consciously Hank, it’s just part of what you are. Part of who you are. You’re like a torch in the night. Everyone sleeps better because of the light you bring, because they know that no matter what happens, you’ll bring back the light. But in your own mind, you’re just a torch. To you, being a torch is nothing special. But what would it be like if the torch was gone?”

  The waiter arrived to take our orders. I ordered another bottle of merlot, because the first was almost gone. We finished the second before we were done with our steaks. I’m a red meat man, despite my genetic disposition towards raw vegetables. My guts don’t care much for red meat, so I can’t eat it often, but when I do, I relish it. The only thing better than a thick steak and a bottle of wine for dinner is an English muffin for breakfast, topped with sautéed steak, onions and garlic. That’s a recipe I picked up from the old farmer who found me as a babe, and to this day, it’s my favorite. He used to call it the gentleman.

  The rest of dinner went well. Annie and I had known each other for years so we don’t have many secrets, but we’d never really had a chance to talk to each other in an intimate setting before. It was nice. We talked about her family and her upbringing as a Seattle girl, and I told her about my unusual childhood in the mountains of Montana and the strange chain of events that brought me to the city. I think she felt sorry for me when I talked about being the last of my kind, and about the way I’d grown up. She didn’t pressure me for too many details, and I appreciated that. I’m not really the talk-about-my-feelings kind of guy. In fact, I don’t understand the whole sensitive, emotional, metro-sexual thing at all. When I’m feeling something in particular, it’s usually obvious from the look on my face. If it’s not, then there’s nothing to worry about. In my opinion, if a man starts talking about his feelings too much, people just might forget he’s a man at all.

  After dinner, we walked a few blocks to the theater, arm in arm. Zaxyl was still there, perched like a parrot on Annie’s shoulder. Thankfully, he’d been quiet through most of dinner. Still, I couldn’t help being irritated. Regardless of how cute and harmless Annie thought he was, the truth was that he was a familiar: a spy. For all I knew, he was reporting every word we said back to Magnus. That was bad enough when I was on duty, but this was my time. I wanted to strangle the miserable little creature. But I didn’t. I behaved like a gentleman, and I let Zaxyl amuse Annie with his soft fur and his cute little made-for-tv noises.

  It was cool out that night, and the fog was coming in over our heads. Annie wore a heavy leather jacket and I was wearing my trench coat (as always), so there was enough fabric between the two of us to keep me from sapping her. During the movie, I even put my arm around her. She leaned up against my shoulder and became so still that I thought she might have fallen asleep. She hadn’t. I peeked, and she smiled at me with starry eyes. She turned her face upwards to kiss me and I pulled away.

  After the film, she tried again. We were walking down the street, halfway between the theater and the parking garage when she stepped in front of me. “Why do you do that?” she said.

  I was caught off guard and swayed against her, slightly off balance. “Do what? What are you talking about?”

  “Why do you distance yourself like that? Every time I start getting close to you, you change the subject. I try to kiss you and you pull away. Why won’t you share yourself with me?”

  “Annie, you know I can’t-”

  “Yes you can, Hank. You can tell me everything. You can share it all with me. You can love me.”

  I sighed. “Annie, I can’t. I like you, but I can’t have a relationship with you. Not that kind of relationship.”

  “Yes you can, Hank. You can have anything you want.”

  “No I can’t. If I touch you, you’ll pass out. Even if I just kiss you.”

  “And maybe that’s okay,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Why don’t you take me home and find out?”

  I was speechless. That was something I’d never even considered before. What if… did she really mean it? Was it possible?

  Leave it to a woman, I thought.

  “Are you just going to stand there gawking all night?” she said.

  She put her arm through mine, and we started walking. I heard the screech of tires behind us and I glanced over my shoulder to see an old Ford sedan skid around the end of the block. I’m not sure what year it was, but it was one of the old ones; the kind that hot rodders like to lower and chop the top. I think they call them lead sleds. It was black with silver flames painted on the sides.

  The car whipped around the corner and rolled back and forth bet
ween the lanes as the driver brought it under control. “What are they doing?” Annie said innocently.

  “I don’t know,” I said. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck and I started scanning the street for cover. There wasn’t much. We were outside the parking garage, surrounded by low shrubs and the occasional tree.

  The driver gunned the engine, bringing the vehicle parallel with us, and then slowed down. I knew what was coming before I even saw the dark tinted windows roll down. “Get down!” I shouted at Annie. I shoved her towards the bushes, hoping she’d find more cover behind them. As she tumbled back, I turned towards the car, shielding her body with my own. Two Uzis appeared, and the bullets started flying.

  There wasn’t much I could do. I didn’t dare run for cover until I knew Annie was safe. At the same time, I wasn’t about to turn my back on the attackers. The only option left was for me to rush the car. It was completely insane, but I did it anyway.

  Lead was flying like rain as I lowered my head and ran towards the car. A bullet grazed my shoulder and a searing pain shot up and down my arm. Another ricocheted off the pavement at my feet. It struck me in the chest. It pierced my skin but didn’t penetrate. It felt like molten lava against my flesh. I ignored it, and plowed on.

  I was furious. Adrenaline fueled my rage. I knew at that point that there was nothing they could do to stop me. Even a killing shot wouldn’t have stopped me before I got my hands on them. And when I did, I was going to kill them. There’s a time for level-headed thinking, a time for justice and patience. That time was gone. The Kaisers had made this personal now, and I wanted their heads.

  I was almost within reach of the vehicle when I recognized a face. The muzzle flash of the guns lit up the back seat, and sitting in the far corner, I saw Brutus. His eyes were wide as recognition flashed between us. For a moment, time seemed to stop. I saw understanding flash across his face, the realization that he’d gone too far, that I was about to kill him. Brutus’ self-preservation instincts kicked into high gear. He shouted something, and I heard the screech of tires like a wild animal howling in the distance. The car was rolling away before I even realized they’d stopped shooting.

  I lashed out, pounding my fist into the rear door as the car lurched away. The door caved, pulling away at the hinges, and it popped open. One of the gunmen almost fell out of the vehicle as they careened down the street. A pair of hands shot out and latched onto him, pulling him back inside. Black smoke rolled up from the tires, drifting through the air with a stench like burning rubber. I stood there panting, bleeding, blinded by rage as the car raced out of sight.

  It took a moment to remember who I was. As the car vanished in the distance, the haze of battle faded from my mind. I suddenly remembered Annie. I ran over to the bushes and found her lying there, clutching at her belly. She’d been hit. She was barely conscious. Blood leeched from a wound in her gut, staining her beautiful blue dress.

  Annie’s eyes fluttered as I knelt down next to her. “You’re hurt,” she said weakly. She reached for the wound in my chest.

  “No,” I said. “I’m fine. Relax. You’re going to be okay.” I dug around in my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. It was broken in half. “Dammit,” I murmured. I glanced around. Zaxyl was nowhere in sight. He’d stuck around long enough to ruin my date, but the moment we could actually use some help, he’d tucked tail and fled to some other dimension.

  Rotten little monkey, I thought.

  I glanced up and down the street, looking for someone, anyone to help. There wasn’t a soul in sight. You don’t find a lot of people walking down the street in the city after dark. If they hear gunfire, you can count on those few disappearing instantly. “Hang on,” I said, lifting her. “Stay with me.”

  I was careful to avoid touching Annie’s skin as I carried her up to my Blazer and set her in the back. The last thing I wanted was to sap her energy when she was fighting a bullet wound. She needed all the strength she could muster. I had an old wool blanket back there, and I rolled it up to use as a pillow. Annie was shaking. I took off my jacket and threw it across her to keep her warm. I leaned forward, drawing her attention back to my face. “Stay with me,” I said. “Keep your eyes open. Can you do that?” She nodded.

  “Good girl,” I said. “Put your hand here; try to keep pressure on it.” I lifted her arm under the jacket and placed it on the wound. She made a vague movement, and I took that as a sign that she understood. I closed the tailgate and jumped into the driver’s seat. “Hang on,” I called over my shoulder. “The hospital’s just a few minutes away.”

  As I drove toward the parking garage exit, the gate came down and a sign overhead flashed out the words, “Pay here!” I gunned the engine and plowed through it. The grill of my Blazer ripped the board out of its brackets. It bounced over my hood in several pieces, and sent splinters spiraling into the air. The tires lit up as I swerved out into the street and accelerated towards the highway onramp. I ran half a dozen red lights, and saw the flash of traffic cams as I whizzed by. I made a mental note to call Tas and have him fix the tickets for me. He owed me that much.

  I rocketed up the onramp and headed south on 101. “Are you with me?” I called over my shoulder. “Annie, can you hear me?” She didn’t respond. I kept trying to talk to her anyway, hoping she was still conscious. I had to keep her hanging on. Giving into shock when you’re bleeding out is like asking to die. I couldn’t let that happen.

  “It sucks,” I said, glancing in the rear view mirror. I could see her knees propped up against the sidewall. “That’s how it feels, being alone. It sucks being the last of your kind. When I was a kid, I had no idea. I thought I was human. My foster parents were humans. They didn’t know how to feed me or how to take care of me. I was this scrawny, sickly little runt with green skin. Everybody thought there was something wrong with me. They were right, too, but nobody knew why. I was eating nothing but human food, living in a human environment. I was sick as a dog most of the time. The rest of the time, I was getting my butt kicked by older kids who decided they didn’t like the way I looked. To be honest, I’m not even sure how I survived my childhood.

  “When I got old enough to understand what I was and where I had come from, I already knew that I was alone. I mean, it seems crazy right? The world’s full of people. How could I be alone? But I am. Nobody knows what it’s like to be this different. Humans think I’m a freak because of the way I look and the fae think I’m just a big, dumb moron. There’s no one else like me, Annie. Can you hear me? Annie?”

  About two minutes later, I plowed into the parking lot at San Francisco General Hospital. I swerved around a few vehicles and screeched to a halt in front of the emergency entrance. Annie was unconscious and very pale. I lifted her in my arms and ran inside, shouting for a doctor. Within seconds, I was surrounded by white lab coats.

  The doctors and nurses put me through a round of questions, none of which I had the answers to. I didn’t know if Annie had any allergies. I didn’t think so. I didn’t know her medical history. I didn’t think she was on any medications. I didn’t know how bad the wound was, I only knew it was a gunshot.

  They wheeled Annie away on a gurney, and one of the nurses caught my eye. She was slender, with a slight frame and curly blonde hair that framed wide cheekbones and large, innocent-looking eyes. I could tell she was fae kindred, probably a descendent of the purebloods like Annie. She saw my glance and gave me a knowing nod. Relief washed over me. I knew that Annie would be safe, and that her secret would be protected.

  I continued filling out forms and answering questions to the best of my ability as Annie disappeared into the E.R. Then they started looking at me. I had a bullet embedded in the skin of my chest, and one of the nurses pulled it out with a surgical tool that looked just like a pair of stainless steel pliers. “This one just pierced the skin,” she said. “You got lucky tonight.”

  I told her I didn’t feel lucky. It wasn’t long before a pair of cops came strolling in to give me
the full interrogation. I didn’t recognize them, but they seemed to know me. “You must be Mossberg,” said the taller one. His ID tag read D. Hawthorne. His short, lantern-jawed partner was S. Smith.

  “That’s me,” I said.

  Smith pulled out a notepad. “You wanna tell us what happened?”

  I glanced back and forth between them, weighing my situation. Even though I knew Brutus had done this, I didn’t see any reason to tell them the truth. What were they going to do? They’d never be able to find him, and if they did he’d either pay them off or bespell them to make them forget he even existed. No, Brutus was mine. He was going to meet justice, and it was going to be on my terms.

  “Random drive-by,” I said.

  D. Hawthorne arched an eyebrow. “Random? Doesn’t seem very random to me. I haven’t heard about anybody else getting shot randomly tonight.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” I said.

  “Why don’t you start by telling us who it was, and why they were after you and your girlfriend?”

  “I already told you. It was random.”

  They spent a while trying to bait me, but it didn’t work. When they finally left, they had a description of the car and that was about it. I watched them leave and then walked up to the counter and asked the nurse about Annie. “She’s in surgery, but she’s stable. The bullet didn’t hit any major arteries. She’s going to be fine.”

  “Thanks,” I said. That was all I needed to hear.

  Thoughts of revenge and murder were racing through my mind as I left the hospital. I briefly considered calling Butch to back me up, but I quickly decided against it. I knew there was a good chance I was going to get myself killed. I didn’t see any point in getting Butch killed, too. Things were either going to go my way, or they’d go horribly wrong. If that was the case, I didn’t want to bring anyone else into my troubles. If I was dead at least Annie and Butch would be safe. The Kaiser gang wouldn’t give them any more trouble. Besides, my cell phone was broken and I didn’t feel like trying to locate a payphone.