by RJ Blain
“You’re stuck with me, Janette. I’ll tell you why. You know you didn’t kill Alec. I know you didn’t kill Alec. Anyone who knows of your skills and reputation knows you didn’t do it, as you would not have done nearly as sloppy of a job. An unskilled exsanguinator couldn’t have done it. A skilled one wouldn’t have done it that specific way—and may not even have the abilities to have committed the murder the way it was done. Blunt-force trauma isn’t one of your strengths. I need to know who killed him, why they picked your library to kill him at, and who else might be on the hit list. And yes, I believe his murder won’t be the last. It certainly wasn’t the first. Working with me, you’ll benefit, as you can clear your fellow librarians of wrongdoing. That’s where the coercion part comes in. Without me, clearing them will be difficult, probably impossible. I benefit from this arrangement, as I keep you precisely where I want you without anyone except your friend here knowing the truth about the situation.”
“How did I get brought into this?” Beatrice demanded. “What’s even going on? What situation?”
“Janette’s last name isn’t Asurella,” Bradley explained. “Her rating is also not a measly 17.2%. I’m the reason you were called this morning, and I pulled some strings with some associates to make certain you had reason to see Janette in person. When I received word you were on the way here, I made a point of showing up at the same time you did, as what I want involves you both. Janette has the skills needed for this job, you have the correct placement in the library system to get intel I need—and reach people I need. You have a bunch of librarians at high risk of being booked for murder, so you have the motivation to do what I need. Janette will cooperate because she hates nothing more than failing at a challenge. You will cooperate because you don’t want to see innocent people jailed or executed for murder. The system isn’t working in my favor for this investigation, so I need someone to do the exterior work for me. I’ve picked you two. That about sums it up.”
“People change their last names all of the time. That isn’t a crime,” Beatrice replied. “Interfering with a criminal investigation will do more than get us tossed into prison.”
“Falsifying her rating is a crime, but it suits my purposes. You won’t be interfering with a criminal investigation. You’ll be investigating the murder independently, and you will give the police the appropriate tips anonymously. It benefits you, as you have a card up your sleeve nobody except you, her, and me know about. Worried about security? Make sure she’s present and your security problems will be resolved.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible.” Beatrice frowned. “What am I missing?”
“Do you want to tell her, or should I?” Bradley asked, his tone amused.
I could tell when I had no hope of winning. “Fine. While my name is Janette, I’m an adept exsanguinator, and until I’d spent time in a coma, I’d been his bodyguard, because unlike him, my parents weren’t adepts. I did it so they’d be able to have a decent life and retirement. Maybe I can’t walk right anymore, but I like having freedom, something I certainly didn’t enjoy while in his employ.”
“You signed a for life contract. You’re alive. The contract terms still stand,” Bradley announced in the tone I hated the most, the one brimming with confidence he would emerge the victor. Worse, he spoke the truth.
I’d only gotten away with so much because he had claimed I wasn’t of any use to him until I fully recovered, which likely wouldn’t happen. I’d already defied the odds rehabilitating my foot as much as I had. “Except I can’t complete any of my hired duties. Do you know what standing around for an entire day would do to me?”
“I’m sure you’d cripple yourself further trying,” he replied in a rueful tone.
I really would. “You don’t like useless things.”
“If I wanted you for your ability to stand patiently while I did equally tedious tasks, you might be useless for my purposes. Unfortunately for you, I want you for your other skills. You’re observant, which is a must for any sort of investigation, you’re a quick thinker, as evidenced by just why we’re in this current situation, and you understand how adepts think. More importantly, you understand how the less ethical adepts think, as you’ve turned defending me against them into an art.”
“You were a bodyguard, Janette?”
“I was.”
“An idiot with a fast car wanted to race with her, and as she does not play those sort of games, she declined. Unfortunately, the other driver lost control of his vehicle trying to show off. He crashed into us, and Janette maneuvered the vehicle so she took the brunt of the injuries from the collision. I walked away with a broken wrist and a minor concussion. She was in a coma for several months, and I was warned she’d never walk again. I made new plans for our household, but she, foolishly, presumed I would not move forward with her despite her new limitations.”
Our household? While the contract necessitated I live in the same household, it had been his household, and I had classified as nothing more than a servant.
“You’re an idiot, Janette,” Beatrice informed me.
Sometimes, I just couldn’t win. “You’re siding with him? Why would you even side with him?”
Beatrice didn’t know Bradley beyond his reputation of walking the straight and narrow without exception. His request proved he would dip his toes in murky waters if needed.
Most failed to realize he would get his hands dirty for the right cause until it was too late.
To my surprise, she smiled. “Would you like a list of reasons why?”
“No, but thank you for your most kind and generous offer. When you start making lists, I think about killing you, but then I’d miss you because I’d killed you, and that just makes me even more annoyed, as killing you isn’t an option.”
Beatrice cackled. “You’re such a bitch.”
I was.
Bradley considered me with an intrigued expression. Instead of commenting, he wandered around my living room and kitchen, examining everything with interest. “She’s incredibly stubborn, isn’t she, Miss Beatrice?”
“Preaching to the choir,” Beatrice grumbled. “I’ve checked the dictionary to see if they updated it to showcase her as the prime example of stubborn and prideful. They haven’t gotten the memo yet.”
“I’ve also been made aware of your somewhat turbulent relationship with Janette, and it seems those rumors are true.”
“It keeps things lively.”
“Will it be an issue should you have to work with her for an extended period of time?”
The last thing I needed was daily contact with my best enemy in the library system. We’d either kill each other or complete our transformation into a legendary nightmare of the New York Public Library. There was no in between.
Bradley flirted with disaster tossing us together.
“It’s not,” Beatrice admitted after a long enough pause to suggest it would be, but she’d deal with it anyway.
As I felt the same, I shrugged.
“Really, Janette?” Bradley’s exasperated sigh startled me. “I take my eyes off you for a few years, and you become a disaster on two feet.”
Before I could stop myself, I answered him with a disgruntled snort. In good news, I managed to bite back my retort, which involved having the freedom to pick fights with Beatrice if I wanted, and I didn’t need his damned permission anymore to do it.
“Maybe you two need an intervention far more than bitch lady and I do,” Beatrice muttered. “It’s like being stuck in a cage with a pair of hungry, angry lions, and one has a thorn in her paw.”
“The traumatic damage done to her foot is far more than a mere thorn,” Bradley replied. According to his expression, if he had my abilities, he would’ve put an end to Beatrice then and there. “If it could break, it was fractured, she suffered catastrophic muscle damage, and for the first month following the crash, it was unknown if she would even emerge from her coma.”
I scowled at his open exposure of my
injuries despite it being the truth. “She is a bad friend, and I’m an even worse friend, but the only one who gets to bicker with Beatrice is me. It’s been a while since I’ve used my magic, but I’m willing to make a mess for a good cause.” To anyone else, the warning would’ve been classified as bravado, but Bradley narrowed his eyes, and after a moment of consideration, he nodded. “We fight. Get used to it. We fight loud, early, and often. I will resent anyone who prevents me from having my arguments with Beatrice.”
“It’s true. She goes out of her way to start a fight, and she’s usually doing it to snooker more money out of the library. They send her to do the branch’s negotiations.”
“Well, of course. She is experienced with the art of negotiation.”
“Only in that I’ve observed enough negotiations to learn the art through osmosis,” I complained.
“You can be one of the negotiators next time,” he promised.
“Next time?” I asked. “Have you forgotten I’m a librarian now?”
“You’re a librarian for now.” Bradley leaned over so he could regard my feet with narrowed eyes. “I will be apprehending you at some point in the near future to have that looked at.”
“I have a doctor here.”
“But is the doctor here the best you can get?”
As always, everything was the best this or the best that with him. The best didn’t mean infallible, but Bradley held the firm belief only the best would do. I’d learned the truth the hard way.
The best doctors in the field often wore blinders, refusing to pursue other—possibly better—options because of their pride.
If I’d listened to the best doctors, I would still be in a wheelchair unable to walk at all.
I shrugged. “The other doctors informed me I’d never walk again, so I’m not interested in the ‘best’ any adepts have to offer. Now, if you wanted to abuse your status as a snooty adept and get me a set of prescriptions, that might earn you a small amount of gratitude.”
“What’s wrong with your prescriptions?”
Beatrice and I snorted, and I wondered if we reacted for the same reasons. Probably. While she held a much higher rating and could have easier access to the restricted drugs, only the pures on either end of the scale got easy access to the best.
Bradley sighed and raised his hand to rub at his temple. “Beatrice, as I’m certain Janette will do her best to give me some sort of scathing answer to my question without answering my question at all, would you explain the situation to me?”
While Beatrice smiled, something about her eyes promised trouble. “She doesn’t qualify for any of the good painkillers due to her rating. Those in her rating bracket typically do not have the insurance policies required to pay for the painkillers, and doctors do not consider them candidates to receive the higher quality prescriptions. The on-shelf shit won’t touch something like her busted foot. It might dull the pain slightly. The library’s prescription policy won’t cover the grade of painkiller she probably needs, and it won’t cover the costs of the extensive treatments. It’s an issue for our disabled workers of lower rating brackets. We just can’t win that war against the insurance company. They won’t offer the coverage.”
I wondered how long she’d been waiting for a chance to tell an adept how unfair the system was for people like me—and if he’d pass her test.
How he answered would set how she viewed him for the rest of eternity. She took longer than most to set her first impressions, but she rarely changed how she viewed someone once she decided what she thought about them.
Heaving another sigh, he replied, “Pain impairs recovery.”
“Pain causes a lot of issues, and because she doesn’t miss work because of a bad day, there’s not a whole lot we can do—and if she misses work due to it, she can’t press the point unless she is fired because she can’t get the care she needs. That leaves her in a no-win situation.” Beatrice grimaced and glanced my way. “Sorry, Janette.”
“It’s true, so don’t be sorry about it. He’s only seen me on a good day.”
“What’s a bad day?”
Beatrice and I pointed at my cane, which leaned in the corner. With a furrowed brow, Bradley strode to it, picked it up, and examined it, rolling it in his hands. The longer he looked it over, the darker his expression became.
“This hasn’t been enhanced. A bad day means you have to use a cane?”
I rolled my eyes at that. “I’m not pure enough in either direction on the records to justify such precious workings. You should know that’s how the world works. And a bad day means I have to use the cane for any hope of walking at all. I can’t afford to miss work because of a bad day, so I keep money around to take a cab to work if I must.”
“You could have picked any rating below yours without issue. Why pick that bracket, especially when you can’t get the care you need?”
When I refused to answer, Beatrice said, “Because nobody looks at people in her bracket twice. She’s got just enough magic in her blood to avoid attention from everyone. No one of any other bracket looks twice at her. It’s the ultimate rating for someone to be invisible in a crowd. Nobody wants people in her bracket. She can’t work any magic, but she’s not a pure mundane, either. All she has going for her is her wits, and she’s smart, I’ll grant you that. She couldn’t do her job without being smart. Her memory’s good, she’s able to work most crowds, and she’s invisible. But that comes at a price. She could disappear, and beyond her close friends, nobody would care. The library system would only miss her because she checked off two equal opportunity boxes, so we’d no longer get a two-for-one special with her.”
“Playing the system means sacrifices, and I’d played the system for a reason.”
“To prevent me from finding you.”
“That’s one of the reasons,” I conceded.
“Well, I’ve found you, and you won’t be getting away from me again.”
I struggled to believe that I’d missed the ivory tower yesterday. The reality of the situation reminded me why I’d left the tower in the first place. What would it take to be truly free? With Bradley on the prowl, I expected it would take a miracle. “As what? I can’t serve as your bodyguard anymore.”
He smiled, and I tensed at his self-assured expression. “I have a far better use for you, don’t you worry about that.”
As he preferred making promises rather than threats, I worried.
Seven
My cat was about to sucker me out of second breakfast.
I needed coffee to deal with Bradley and Beatrice, and the two waged a not-so-silent war with each other. Somehow, I’d become the prize they battled over. My idiocy in the morning did me no good, and I took three whole steps before coming to the conclusion today would be a bad day. Glaring at Bradley, I snatched my cane out of his possession and hobbled to the counter to make the magical black bean juice appear in the carafe.
“I could have done that for you,” he announced.
“This coffee maker eats souls for breakfast. It cost me ten whole dollars, and it demands souls in exchange for its dark brew. Unless you wish your soul to be consumed on my quest for coffee, you will stay out of my kitchen.”
Ajani bolted from the bedroom, skidded across the tiles, and sat in front of her empty bowl, staring at me with expectant eyes.
Ugh. My cat was about to sucker me out of second breakfast, and too weak to resist her feline charms, I snagged one of her smallest cans of wet food from the cabinet.
Bradley dared to enter my kitchen, stooping over to pick up my cat’s dish. When he offered it to me, I considered flinging the opened can at him, but I set it aside, accepted it, and mumbled, “Thank you.”
“Pride cometh before the fall. If you try to pick that up when you can barely walk, you’ll land on your ass, where your cat might go for the kill for delaying her next meal. Cats are entities of evil, Janette. Didn’t you know that?”
Despite everything, I smiled at his complaint. “She r
eally is. I found her out on the street, cold, wet, and starving to death. I was on my way to my interview at the library, but I couldn’t just leave her there to die, so I took her with me. She’s the branch mascot now. We warn the patrons there is a mouse huntress on the premises, and we take steps if there are any allergies. She’s great at keeping rodents out of the stacks.”
“We’re getting a team of library cats at the main branch,” Beatrice announced. “She’s worked so well at your branch the boss wants to try it out at ours, but we’ll be doing a little better than half-dead strays plucked off the street.”
“Copycat!” I cleaned Ajani’s bowl, and as Bradley had opted to enroll himself for base servitude to my feline goddess, I held the dish out to him to put on the floor. “Exactly two gentle strokes over her head and down her back. If you try for three, she will tear into your hand. Two is the exact number of gentle strokes she will permit as your payment for being her slave. However, you will earn a week of three strokes if you brush her once she’s done eating. Her definition of a week varies, so you would be wise to brush her daily should you wish to earn three strokes at a time. She lives for the brush.”
“I have no idea how to brush a cat.”
“Then you shall learn. It involves picking up the brush on the end table and grooming her fur with it. If you stroke her fur backwards, she will educate you on the error of your ways with her claws, but as she is the feline goddess of this household, you will accept your punishment with grace. You can check the brush. I’m sure it’s imprinted sufficiently for you to learn how to handle such a mundane task.”
Bradley crouched beside my cat, set her bowl down, and stroked her twice as directed, earning a purr from the stray who’d taken over my home and made me like it. “She’s soft.”
“With as much brushing as she gets, she better be soft.”