“And?” she asked, and I could have sworn there was a hint of a blush on her cheeks. “You said there were two.”
Digging into my pocket, I dug out a necklace. It was a cheap thing, the kind of fake gold that’ll leave your skin green if it’s worn for too long, but it wasn’t the chain that was important here. It was what was hanging on the end of it.
A cloudy white stone dangled from the necklace, swaying gently in the air as I offered it to Renee.
“Put that on,” I said.
“What the hell is it?” she asked, her nose scrunching up like she was the type of girl who was used to jewelry that was, ya know, actual jewelry. ”It’s hideous.”
“Don’t get yourself all twisted up,” I answered, leaving my hand outstretched and the necklace hanging from it in the air. “It’s not a token of my affection or anything, and it’s not supposed to be pretty. It’s utilitarian. So just grab the damned thing.”
“I’ll bet you say that to all the girls,” she muttered, but she took it nonetheless.
“Now, put it on,” I commanded, looking from the necklace to Renee and back again.
Slowly, she did as I asked, unclasping the necklace and wrapping it around her collarbone. Struggling to fasten it again, she groaned. “Weird clasp.”
Sighing, I moved around her and took hold of the necklace.
Moving her hair out of the way, I joined the clasps at the small of her neck, noticing a smattering of freckles back there, strange to see on her olive skin.
It took me a moment to realize I was still standing there, literally breathing down her neck like some kind of crude ass Neanderthal.
“There,” I said finally. “It’s on.”
“Great,” she answered, letting her jet black hair fall back down across her neck to cover it and the freckles. “What’s it do? Or could I even believe you about that?”
“Ouch,” I said as I moved back around and settled in front of her again. I grinned at the hint of levity I saw pass through her eyes. “Don’t be too hard on me. I did save your life after all. Besides, I never lied to you.”
“Are you insane?” she asked, her eyes widening as a smile brighter than the sun spread across her lips. “You had an entire conversation with me in my office the other day. Not once, did your… nature come up.”
“My nature?” I asked, shaking my head and still grinning. “That’s a polite way of putting it. It’s also irrelevant.”
“Feels relevant,” she shot back, her smile fading just a little as her voice took on a more serious tone.
“What was I supposed to do, lay out the entire supernatural ecosystem out in front of you just like that? You’d have wet yourself. Besides, not mentioning something isn’t the same as lying.”
“Said every liar ever,” she responded. Then she crossed her arms over her chest. Well, this was going downhill fast.
“You know what,” I started, splaying my hands out in front of me and giving her the universal sign for ‘I give up.’ “I’m starting to get the idea things are going to be much simpler for me if I just start agreeing with you. So let’s just pretend I did that from the start and we both promise not to lie to each other from this moment forward.”
“Fair enough,” she nodded. Then, pointing to her neck, she simply stated, “Necklace.”
“The stone is a crystal I got a couple of years ago in Russia. It has some latent mystical properties and, while you were busy snoring last night, I enchanted it.”
“I do not snore,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.
“What did we just agree to about lying to each other,” I asked, smirking at her.
“Fine,” she huffed. “What’s the spell for? Protection?”
“No. I’m not strong enough for that on my own. It’s more of a warning system,” I explained, touching at the clouded white crystal, which, incidentally, was resting right over her undeniably nice chest. Swallowing hard, I continued. “If you get in trouble, like the sort of trouble you were in last night, this thing will let me know. I connected it to myself. That way, we don’t have to be together all the time for me to know you’re safe.”
“And if I’m not safe?” she asked, shrugging my nosy little finger away. A gust of wind stirred the tree above us, sending a smattering of blossoms cascading down on top of us
“Then I’ll come running. Or teleporting. Whichever’s easiest,” I pulled at a floating petal that had landed in her hair.
Looking at it for a few seconds, I blew it off. “Make a wish,” I said instinctively.
“Really?” she answered, and the humor in her voice was laced with something I couldn’t quite discern.
“What?” I asked.
“That was almost sweet,” she said, and the way she looked at me, made my heart start going nuts in my chest. Man, what the hell was wrong with me?
“Almost,” I answered, looking off into the street because it was suddenly incredibly interesting. ”My mom used to do that. Well, not my mom. But the woman who raised me.”
“Really?” Renee said. “What happened to--”
“No!” I said flatly. I didn’t mean to be so loud or so curt. But I was, and that was that. “Sorry,” I said, the word tumbling out of my mouth as I turned my gaze back toward her. “But I’m not telling that story today.”
“All right,” she said, running a hand through her hair again and letting her eyes rest on the sidewalk.
“Look, I’ve kept you for too long already. Go get to work. Punish some crooks or something.” I smiled as best I could.
“And what are you going to do?” Renee asked, daring to look up at me again. She felt bad for bringing up my mom, and part of me wanted to tell her it was okay even though it wasn’t. There were some stories that are best left untold, and if I tried to make it seem okay now, she’d expect me to elaborate and that wasn’t going to happen.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I asked, letting my hand rest on the butt of my gun. “I’m going back to where this all started.”
10
After leaving Renee to a day of paper pushing and court hopping, I headed to the only place it made sense for me to go.
Nickolas Cypress came to town for college. He disappeared from the UGA campus. So where else would I go other than the land of academia, the freshman fifteen, and needy college girls with daddy issues?
God help me.
The great thing about being a cop… other than getting to live up to a massive doughnut eating stereotype… is that you never really have a problem getting into places.
Douchebag bouncers aside, for the most part, all I ever have to do is flash my badge and the floodgates open right up. There’s a simple reason for that. People who aren’t doing anything wrong don’t want you to think they are. So, nine times out of ten, they go out of their way to be an open book about it.
It’s when you get resistance you know you’re really onto something.
True to form, campus security waved me right in as soon as I showed them my credentials. They didn’t even ask me what my business was here, which was a little troubling.
Was crime so rampant around these parts that a police detective showing up wasn’t out of the ordinary? That didn’t say much for the current state of Georgia’s educational system.
Blowing past the gate, I parked my Impala in the first space I could find and got out, deciding to foot it the rest of the way.
I had a couple of reasons for that. One, the doughnut thing wasn’t complete hyperbole and it might do me well to get the step count on that arm band thing Gary got me last Christmas up a little. And two, because you learn more from being in the trenches than you do from passing by them at fifty miles per hour.
I had done some research. Nickolas wasn’t the first student to go missing from here. He was the third over two years. On its own, that wouldn’t have concerned me. Bad shit happens all the time, and that wasn’t a number that was going to inspire any conspiracy theories.
But, when you take into consideration t
he fact Renee’s brother was hanging out with demons who were under the employ of someone or something else, the number starts to get more troubling.
Were the other two taken by the same group? Did they just not have district attorney sisters to come looking for them or half-demon, half-warlock, half-assed police detectives to stumble onto their cases at the right time?
I wasn’t going to find out unless I started digging.
A couple more years ago than I’d care to admit, I’d have ditched my jacket and tie in favor of Hollister and saggy jeans. I’d always hated the style, but pretending to be one of these douches would be the best way to get to the truth.
Unfortunately, I had left my “passing for a college student” years behind along with the iPhone 3.
That didn’t mean I didn’t have a couple of tricks up my sleeve, or a couple of favors I could call in.
Pulling out my cell phone, I scrolled down until I settled on the name ‘Isa,’ -a woman I’d have probably rather have never seen again, and pressed the call button.
“What?” she answered flatly after only half a ring. Sounded like she felt the same way.
“Good to hear from you too,” I responded, letting a half-smile etch itself across my face. “I’m here.”
“Be still my pounding heart,” Isa answered, and I could almost see her facial expression in my head: her purple eyes narrowed sarcastically, a scowl pressed against her otherwise stalwartly inexpressive lips, and her red hair pulled back into a ponytail. “And where? I don’t see you.”
“I’m by the entrance,” I answered. “Right across from the--”
“No you’re not. That’s where I am. The only people here are dumbass students, a couple security guards and--” She went silent for a second. “Oh God.”
Then the line went dead.
I was about to start panicking when she came marching up into view.
Isa was wearing a pair of form-fitting jeans
I was right about the ponytail though.
Though she was easily in her mid-two-hundreds, she looked to be about seventeen. She shook her head in disgust and sighed like a teenager asked to do the laundry.
“That’s you?” she balked, looking me up and down. “Danu’s child! What the hell happened to you?”
“What?” I asked, instinctively tugging at my tie.
“You got all old,” she said in the same tone you might use to tell someone “you stabbed me” or “you just killed that kid.”
“I’m twenty-five, Isa,” I answered, rolling my shoulders forward and trying to stoke my pride. “It’s been six years since the last time I saw you. And I don’t have fairy blood running through me to keep me all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”
“I guess,” she answered, still staring at me like I had the Black Plague or something. “I guess it’s not a bad look on you though. I don’t mind the fuzz,” she said, raising her hand and letting it graze my cheek.
“I didn’t have time to shave last night,” I explained, shirking away from her touch. ”There’s been a lot going on.”
“Apparently,” she said in her best valley girl voice. Then, rolling her purple eyes, she muttered, “I was thinking about you the other night, about that time I hooked up with you in Cabo.”
An image from that night, hot and sweating on the beach, flickered in the back of my mind, bringing out a hint of a smile.
It had been a while ago. And I had been nineteen so, technically, I would have had sex with a cactus if someone had heated it up and carved a hole in it. But Isa had looked really good that night, and I must have been her type back then. Plus, there was tequila and that never hurts. Well, at least not in this particular way.
“Be that as it may, I appreciate you coming out. I know you didn’t have to.” I actually managed to sound like I felt bad about it.
“Bull’s shit!” she answered loudly, pointing at me with a bright blue painted fingernail. “You know I owe you a favor.”
That was true. After our drunken spring break fling, I had helped Isa get ahold of a particularly potent fae artifact. Technically it counted as a favor. And, when a fairy owes you a favor, they’re honor bound to repay it in whatever way you ask them too. Seriously, their bodies won’t allow them to say no.
This might have seemed like a small use of what could potentially be a big boon, but I needed someone who could pass for a student to get to the bottom of this for me. Besides, this wasn’t the only favor she owed me. She owed me a few. Here’s a pro-tip. When you’re saving a fairy princess from a nest of vampires who had managed to tie her down with enchanted chains, remember to ask for stuff to be performed at a later date.
“It’s bullshit. Not bull’s shit,” I said, shaking my head. “When you say it like that, you sound like my grandma.”
Okay. So maybe she wasn’t the best person in the world to pass for a teenager. Let’s hope she was more convincing with the students.
“Ugh. I can’t keep up with mortal vernacular. Honestly, it’s like, you guys don’t live long enough for that, anyway. I don’t even know why you bother with talking at all,” she groaned, shrugging her backpack off and shoving it against my chest. “Hold this. It weighs a ton, and you might as well make use of those massive sculpted arms you’ve got now,” she said, looking over me hungrily, like a lioness surveying potential prey.
“Thanks for noticing, I guess,” I answered, slinging the red and white checkered monstrosity over my shoulder. She was right. The damned thing was heavy. What did she have in here, anyway? She wasn’t even a real student. ”You’ve got me by about a hundred and seventy-five years.”
“Well yeah. If you want to count age by the number of years you’ve been alive or something,” she huffed, shaking her head at me disapprovingly. ”I just don’t know why you had to get all old and gross. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Sorry. I’ll try to do better,” I answered, catching a glimpse of myself in a window as we started walking. I wasn’t bad, actually. Sure, I looked tired, and there was a layer of brown stubble across my cheeks. But some women found that kind of thing hot. Aside from the scuff mark in my right eyebrow I had gotten from a voodoo priestess during one of my ill-gotten attempts to find someone to cure me of the whole “half-demon” thing, I thought I looked pretty damned good.
I guess fairy standards were a little higher though.
“So what have you found out?” I asked, lugging the backpack on my shoulder and trying to keep up with Isa’s impossibly fast steps.
“That college students are idiots, things called Pokémon are literally everywhere even if you can’t see them, and that there are some seriously choice pieces of ass down here.”
She does like them young.
“I meant about the case, Isa. You remember? The entire reason I brought you here,” I answered, my jaw tightening.
“Oh right. The Greek kid. I saw a picture of him in his room. He was cute.”
“Isa, focus!” I said, shuffling nervously as I waited for her to continue.
“Fine,” she muttered, rolling those violet eyes at me again. ”From what I could tell, he was a good kid. His roommate said he was kind of shy and all that, but he was an awful lay. So I’m not sure whether to believe him or not.”
“You slept with the kid’s roommate?” I asked, narrowing my eyes and forgoing the obvious question about what sexual prowess would have to do with honesty in the first place.
“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?” she answered matter-of-factly. “Anyway, he said Nickolas started staying out late a couple of weeks before he vanished. I guess the roommate thought he was finally starting to get a social life. Seemed surprised about it too. I guess Nicky was a born and bred loser.”
“Did he mention anything about who he might have been going to see? Did he mention any strange occurrences that could be attributed to demonic activity?” Nickolas disappearing and a band of demons trying to kill the sister looking for him wasn’t a coincidence. I needed to find out how they
were connected.
Isa swung around toward me. “There are demons involved in this?” she asked, her eyes wide and her face tighter than usual. “Like, real demons?”
“I am a real demon,” I answered, starting to huff from the weight of this bag. “You know that, right?”
“Oh, sweetie, of course I do,” she answered, patting my arm condescendingly. “And you’re just about as cute as a button to boot. Or, at least, you used to be.”
“What did the kid say, Isa?” I asked, shrugging away from her touch again. “If you allowed him time to speak between bouts of tonsil hockey.”
She chuckled at me. “He didn’t say anything about demons. That’s for sure. Neither did you, by the way. Which was a nasty trick. You know how I feel about real demons.”
My jaw set noticeably. It’s not that I wanted to be a demon, but given that I couldn’t change my DNA, implying that I wasn’t a real one was sort of like a girl getting a guy naked and then telling him that he looked “cute.” Not exactly what you want to hear.
“Other than you, big boy.” She winked at me. ”Look, all he said was Nickolas stayed out late. He bought a new phone that would ring at all hours of the night and he’d rush out to meet whoever was calling him. Not long after that, he vanished.”
“I need that phone,” I answered quickly, my body tensing at the thought of a possible lead. “Did the roommate say anything about where it might be?”
“He did. Right before he climaxed,” she answered, biting her lip. “Which took about ninety seconds, might I add.”
“Isa, I have to get that phone,” I answered, tired of this specific round of ‘TMI with Isa the fairy whore.’
“You think I’m an amateur?” she asked, digging into her pocket and pulling out a small, black burner phone. “I snagged it after the kid went to sleep. He thanked me like six times for screwing him. It was pathetic.” She looked up thoughtfully. “I wonder if he’s busy tomorrow.”
Pound of Flesh: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Half-Demon Warlock Book 1) Page 7