Ash in the Blood

by Lyn Forester

  “What about her?”

  Her fingers move to touch the back of her head. She winces, then sighs, “She’s still missing.”

  He thrusts out an arm to stop her as she paces around him. “Lemon Chiffon might have died the same night as Clark. She probably snuck off with him, the car that picked them up took them to a different location, and they partied too hard. His body was tucked away in an alley. Since we didn’t find her remains, she probably landed closer to the street and was picked up by a street sweeper. She’s already composted.”

  “The camera outages?”

  “Not everything we discovered can be related to this case.”

  Reagen twitches, eyes narrowing. “What about the wine? It was obviously an attempt at poison.”

  “Or the bar was trying to make a side profit, bought knockoff booze from an unregistered vendor, and spiked it with Ash themselves to sell at a higher price. It wouldn’t be the first time one of our businesses has tried to make a side profit outside our contract. Whoever served Halrow didn’t know the wine was contaminated.” Some of the tension leaves Reagen’s shoulders at that info, and he rubs the back of his neck. “I’d like to say this is something new, but it happens more often than Black Corp lets on. I’ll have some of our financial investigators look into it to verify.”

  “It seems too easy.” She sways in place, and Drake worries her injuries are more extensive than she let on. She might actually have a concussion.

  “What’s easy? We ran our asses all over Roen to track down Troy’s Ash lab.” He hefts the glass orb in his hand for emphasis. “Now we have the warehouse he planned to distribute from on lockdown. We have Newland over there who will attest to being kidnapped as soon as he’s conscious again. Getting here took hard work.”

  Her gaze moves around the room once more. “I don’t like it.”

  In his pocket, his palm-port vibrates. He checks the message. “Black Corp team is circling around back now.”

  Her narrow gaze skitters around the room. “It doesn’t feel right.”

  “You’re not usually a gut person. Why are you questioning the facts now?” She scowls and realization sinks in. “You’re dissatisfied.”

  “Fuck, yes, I’m dissatisfied.”

  When she sidesteps to move around him, he grabs her shoulder, catching her indigo eyes with his. “You’re used to getting definitive closure with your cases, but the bad guy took that away by killing himself. You can’t pump him for all the answers. It happens sometimes. We’ll never get that solid reason why. But we solved the case. Whatever Ash was already distributed will run out in a few days. Case closed.”

  “You could be right.” The grudging admission sounds pulled from her lips, and a sense of victory shoots through him.

  He shakes her shoulder, and she shrugs out of his grasp with an irritated huff. “Let’s write up our report tomorrow. We should get a drink tonight in celebration of closing our first case together.”

  “You know I could have a concussion right now, right?”

  “If you’re fine enough to infiltrate a drug den, then you’re fine enough for booze.” He rubs his hands together in anticipation. “We’ll get breakfast first, fatten you up a little. Think we can find another street market? I want sweet rice.”

  “You’re a bottomless pit.”

  “Hush. Eat one of your Bell-E bars. You’re grumpy.”

  Ignoring him, she paces back around the explosion site, red footprints marking her path of discontent. A loud knock sounds against the barred door, and she reaches for her weapon. She steps out of immediate sight of the doorway, psy-gun level, as Drake moves to the door. The knock comes again, a rhythmic tap, tappy, tap, tap, and he relaxes. The clean up crew has arrived.

  The metal bar sticks for a moment, then gives with a shriek of metal. It clangs against the floor as he pushes the door open. A swarm of black-clothed people fills the room.

  In the bustle, Reagen slips away.

  From the other side of the room, Drake sighs as he spots her glossy head disappearing out the door. He’ll have to go to her place tomorrow, and pin her down about that report. And then he’ll have a serious talk with her about joining Mr. Black’s new Black Investigations team.

  Because if Drake has learned one thing from this experience, it’s that he wants her on this team, not through blackmail, but at his side as a willing partner. They work well together, and a warm spot in his gut tells him she recognizes that. She’s a perfect fit. He just needs to make her see that.

  CHALLENGED

  REAGEN

  The trek back to my living unit at Blue Horizon takes forever, the lift packed with late-morning commuters. It feels like the day should already be over, not just beginning. After another shower, I think I’ll sleep for an entire day.

  I ignore the small twinge of guilt at ditching Drake to supervise the cleanup, but my head can’t take the noise. Besides, he has enough energy to do it alone, and no way will I be dragged out to drink with him after the events of the last twenty-four hours. Time to decompress, evaluate my options, and decide what to do next.

  Stepping off the elevator, I walk the thirty-three steps to home. The beige on beige of the hall soothes my overexerted senses, a calming balm for my soul. When I press my hand against the palm reader, the cool gel warms beneath my skin. The lock light turns green, and the door slides open. A surprised smile pulls at my lips.

  Finally, Black Corp got the damn thing fixed. Drake probably had them program it so he has access, but I can reconfigure that easily enough. Tomorrow. Or maybe the day after.

  I step into my living unit, and for the second time, a scent not my own permeates the space. My knees tremble, nose filling with the smell of pepper and burning leaves, the sour tang of cherry. It layers on top of the chemical odor of my cinnamon air freshener, faint and already dissipating. Another hour and it would be gone all together.

  March isn’t here, but he was.

  He knows where I live. He’s been in my home, touched my things. The idea doesn’t leave me with the seething rage that consumed me when Drake did the same thing. No, this leaves an entirely different, equally unwelcome emotion that I shove into a box and lock away.

  Slowly, I walk toward the kitchen, gaze drawn to the fitful flicker of orange lights on my missing psy-guns. They sit on the counter, side by side, as if I’d forgotten them there last night. A small bottle of black paint sits next to them—a gentle reprimand to hide my lights.

  I drag in an unsteady breath as I grip the counter, knuckles white. He could have waited, ambushed me on my way home. Delivered me back to Japhrey to face the consequences of my actions. Instead, March gave me a warning, a chance to leave everything and run again.

  Did I have it in me to become another person again? How many lives can one person have before they forget themselves completely? I like Reagen Thorpe. I like who I’ve become.

  Spine straight, I pull my shoulders back and gaze around my tiny living space. This life is mine. I’ll fight anyone who tries to take it from me.

  Reagen and Drake’s Adventures will continue in:

  A Darker Shade of Gray

  Recovering from near death and a head injury, the last thing Reagen needs is a call from Medic Carmichael that will throw her back into Black Corporation’s clutches.

  Investigator Reagen Thorpe is ready to get back to her regular, boring life as a solo investigator, despite Drake Esten’s unsubtle hints toward permanent partnership as an official employee of Black Corporation.

  But, when new evidence comes to light that reveals their old case might not be as closed as they thought, Reagen will once more have to team up with the mob. While they may have resolved one mystery, they unwittingly uncovered a much darker plot.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lyn Forester graduated with a Bachelor in English and an Associates in Graphic Design. She worked in the graphic design industry for ten years before deciding to pursue her other life long dream of becoming a writer. She grew up
reading mostly fantasy books, though later in life found a love of urban fantasy and science fiction. She currently works from her home in Washington State where she squeezes in writing time around a busy schedule. When not working, she can be found experimenting with new recipes, reading, or playing video games and the occasional board game.

  Follow on: Facebook and Newsletter, or visit her website at www.lynforester.com.