by TR Cameron
The fear crawling up her back threatened to emerge in laughter, and she threw it in the corner of her mind and wrapped a double portion of crime scene tape around it. She forced herself to think rather than react and had a dozen potential ideas for escape put together by the time the car finally stopped half an hour later. The door opened from the outside, and a mansion appeared in front of them. It was lit by spotlights on the ground and roof and surrounded by opulent greenery with its own illumination. It was an absolutely beautiful piece of real estate and an important part of New Orleans history that she recognized instantly.
Inside it was the thing they’d been ordered to steal. They were outside the home base of the Zatora crime syndicate.
The obligatory preliminaries had been taken care of quickly and effectively, depriving Tanyith of his pocketknife and both of them of their cell phones. Her bracelets remained on her wrists, which at least meant that piece of information hadn’t gotten back to the boss. Or they think they can handle it if I decide to use them, which is definitely the scarier proposition.
Beyond the foyer was a massive room, easily eight times the size of hers at the boarding house. A large sweeping staircase dominated the view, with elegant chandeliers hanging down from the ceiling two stories above. To the right were two couches that looked more comfortable than her bed and to the left, a pool table and several dark wood tables to complement it. Men in suits wandered freely, some clearly working and others with drinks in their hands and smiles on their faces. Well, it is one-thirty in the morning. It stands to reason that only the revelers are still up.
She snuck a look at Tanyith and received a quick shake of his head in return. All she could do was trust he’d find a way to let her know if he was about to make a move, and she planned to not need his help if she chose to act. They were escorted along the short hallway that ran to the right of the staircase, past a powder room and to a set of stairs leading downward. Their guards were smart. One preceded them to watch them from the bottom, while the other kept his distance at the top.
In the basement, another short hallway led to a door. The faint sound of motors suggested equipment keeping the lower level free from the moisture that had to surround it. I bet that’s expensive. The first man knocked softly, his ear to the wood panel. He twisted the handle and stepped through the opening. A comfortable living room lay within, and a man with a laptop sat on one of the two couches set at a right angle to one another. The guards guided them with surprisingly gentle touches to sit on the unused couch, as far from him as possible. One guard took a seat on the couch next to the man, his posture rigid and alert, and the other stood at the opposite corner of the arrangement.
The laptop snapped closed, and its owner set it aside. The man crossed his legs and the expensive fabric of his grey pinstripe custom suit aligned perfectly. He wore a white button-down with the top button undone. Intelligence and determination radiated from him. Brad Pitt will look like this guy in a decade or two. His speech was smooth and clear. “I’m Rion Grisham. Thank you both for coming.”
Cali laughed. “You didn’t leave us much of a choice.”
“Indeed. I did not. Let that be an initial lesson to you. I always get what I want. It’s merely a matter of the amount of pain required to achieve it.”
Tanyith asked, “So, what is it that you want with us?”
Their host nodded. “I appreciate directness and will return it in kind. We have noticed you both at the Drunken Dragons Tavern. You more than him, naturally, Ms Leblanc.”
She refused to give him the pleasure of seeing her react to the use of her name. “Yes, I work there. That’s not a state secret or anything.”
He tilted his head and his eyes burned into hers to communicate his view of her attitude. She swallowed hard but didn’t flinch. “Of course not. It’s easily discovered. But what is immediately relevant is your influence on the owner, one Zarden. You could convince him to agree to our proposal. We would be willing to reduce the payment to a nominal fee in order to have the establishment clearly on our side of the line.”
To control the instinctive rebuttal, she cleared her throat. “Have you…uh, discussed this with him?”
The man sighed. “The representative I sent mentioned something about an ax—a large ax, I believe.”
Cali shook her head. “If Zeb isn’t into it, it probably won’t happen.”
“I imagine you could convince him if you were properly motivated. Surely I don’t need to explain the reasons you should be interested in helping us.” The threat to her, to Tanyith, and likely to her friends and family had been understood from the moment she’d seen the limo.
“No, I get it. What if I can’t convince him to agree?”
“Then I’ll have to take a more difficult path and you shall reap the rewards of your failure. Or, I should say, others will.”
The surge of magic that flowed to her hands at the second bald threat to her loved ones required a moment of focus to control. While she pushed it back, she realized that hers was not the only magic in the room. If felt like an echo, something barely sensed. She tried to catch hold of it but failed. Her frown from the threat covered her reaction to the revelation, fortunately. “Understood. I’ll do what I can.”
He nodded. “Do more.” His attention shifted to Tanyith. “And you. If you fail to accomplish this with her, you’ll be back in Trevilsom. This time, underground. Don’t doubt that I know people who can make that happen.”
Her partner stiffened and she put a hand on his arm. He shrugged it off reflexively but maintained his position. The trembling in his fingers was the only outward sign of his internal struggle. He managed to respond roughly. “Gotcha.”
The man smiled, the kind of aggravating grin that only those who knew others were powerless to hurt them were capable of. It hovered in her vision during the walk back to the car and the drive to the quarter and infuriated her more with each passing minute.
When they were released from the limo, she lifted a finger to her lips, held her phone out, and pointed at him. He handed his over, and she put them both next to the jukebox that belted out Jimmy Buffett before she pulled him to the other side of the room. With her mouth beside his ear, she whispered, “They could have bugged them while they had them. Your knife too.”
He nodded.
“Did you notice the magical?” He gave her a quizzical look and shook his head. “There was something or someone in the room. I sensed it when my magic tried to escape to separate that bastard’s skull from the rest of him.” Her body took that statement as a cue to drop the adrenaline that had sustained her, and she sat quickly before she fell.
“Are you okay?”
She waved his concern away and motioned him down so she could whisper. “I will be. But Zeb would only agree to this for me and I can’t let him do that. We need to find a way to beat them at their own game.”
His frown was immediate, and he put his mouth at her ear. “So, it’s not enough to double-cross one of the two biggest gangs in New Orleans, your plan is to do it to both?”
It sounded better in my head. She shrugged. “Yeah, basically.”
“This should be stupendous.” He laughed. “We might as well get some sleep and start early, right?”
Her grin was almost mechanical. “Seriously, dude, find someone your own age to hit on.”
He waved as he retrieved his phone and headed to the exit. Maybe someday, we’ll both have time to find someone to date. But that sure as hell isn’t this day.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Cali had lucked out in the timing of her late night, as she wasn’t scheduled at the dojo the next day. Sleeping in had been blissful, and she’d stayed that way into the early afternoon. Fyre had tried to rouse her, but she was wise to his tricks and put a force barrier around herself without coming more than half awake. There was no doubt in her mind that he could have banished it if he’d wanted to but fortunately, he must have understood her need for some solid rest.
The Draksa hung out behind the bar again during the evening shift at the tavern and was still there when Tanyith appeared moments before closing for their strategy session. She had decided not to explain all the details but rather to simply inform Zeb they needed a solution immediately to ensure the tavern’s safety. When she’d told him, he’d nodded and agreed to talk about it later.
And now, later had arrived. She locked the door and he drew three ciders and placed them on the bar. He said briskly, “Fyre,” and the Draksa, in his normal form, raised his snout in time to catch the stream of soda water Zeb shot at him. The dwarf had quickly discovered his bar’s mascot loved the stuff and that it caused him to belch frost breath, which for no apparent reason was hilarious to her boss. Truth be told, she was barely able to keep a straight face. The sight of the two of them playing together filled her soul with sunshine.
She sipped and approved of his choice of soft versions of the drink for them all. They had a little over two days left to fulfill the demands of the Atlanteans, and although a timetable hadn’t been placed on the other demand, every plan she’d come up with put that action in the same timeframe.
A short silence had settled in so she cleared her throat. “Okay, the only way I can see this working is if we somehow pit them against one another. Make it so they have to back off or lose face. Barton said that the leaders are both fairly new, so they won’t be able to afford to look bad.”
The men both nodded, seemingly content to let her lay out the situation. “The Atlanteans told us to steal a pair of pistols from the Zatoras. Clearly, that’s a shot at the human gang with complete deniability on their part.” More nods greeted this statement. “And the humans want the tavern on their side. The problem is if we do that, this place becomes a battleground. We have to find a solution that gives them both a win or an equal loss but doesn’t sacrifice our ability to stay the hell out of their mess.”
Zeb nodded. “I have friends around who speak for certain magical groups. They are agreed that we need to try to control the spread of their influence where we can but not so much that we risk all-out war between them. It would suck everyone in, which would not be good for anyone.”
Cali stared at the Dwarf. That sounds like it was an interesting conversation. I wonder what else I don’t know about him. He met her gaze with a small smile that suggested he knew what she was thinking and enjoyed being mysterious. She sighed. “I have an idea, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
Tanyith chuckled. “Bad might be the best we can get, at this point. Spill.”
“If we steal the pistols, we make Rion Grisham look bad. If we sign on with them, we tick the Atlanteans off. What we need to do is make them both look equally bad and be the middle people to help them save face in exchange for leaving us alone.”
Zeb shrugged and lit his pipe before he spoke. Between puffs, he asked, “What can you do to mess up the Atlanteans’ image?”
She turned to the ex-member of that gang. “What would do it?”
He thought about it for a second, then smiled. “It would all have to be even. Since we’ll go into the Zatora headquarters, I guess we’ll need to make a return appearance at The Shark Nightclub.”
“There’s something there that would work?”
His shrug was offhand. “I couldn’t tell you for sure, but it stands to reason there’d be valuables in that nice office, doesn’t it?”
A slow grin grew on her face. “I think I’ll enjoy this.” His expression matched hers as he nodded, and they both turned to the dwarf. Cali said, “So, Zeb, do you see any problems?”
He blew several smoke rings. “Obviously, you’ll need to go in disguised, even though it won’t hold up for long. Maybe you’ll get lucky and the boss won’t be there. I wonder if there’s a way to turn that to our advantage too.”
“Anything that causes confusion to our enemies is a good thing,” Tanyith agreed. “But if the goal is to find someone specific to impersonate, we’re definitely running out of time.”
“Maybe that’s where we loop Barton in. I bet she has intelligence on both groups,” she added quickly.
Zeb nodded. “So, if you masquerade as the opposite side and make sure you’re seen, they’ll automatically have somewhere to place the blame. That’s good. But it puts those people in danger, which isn’t so good.”
Cali took another sip and held her glass out for a refill. “I thought the same thing.” Her boss took the glass and twisted to the cask as she continued. “What if Barton picked them up while it was all going down or even beforehand if she could? She could put them in protection or something. They might be inclined to give evidence in that case, too. At worst, they’ll at least have to leave town.”
Tanyith looked uncomfortable when he spoke. “That’s fairly harsh for them.”
The dwarf set the glass down in front of Cali a little louder than required and took the man’s to top it off. “Then you’ll need to make sure the ones who get that treatment deserve it.”
She nodded. “Again, I think the detective can help us there. So, any other issues?”
Neither of her companions spoke, and she smiled. “Okay. First thing tomorrow, I’ll connect with her, and Tanyith can take a look at the places and pull together any gear needed for the jobs. They’re expecting us to move on Friday, so we’ll do it on Thursday instead and defuse the situation the next day. Does that sound good?”
They nodded simultaneously, and she smiled, remembering the days of watching old television shows with her father. “I love it when a plan comes together.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kendra Barton had been less happy to see her than Cali had expected. When she’d sauntered through the police station and into the office, the other woman had been ensconced behind her desk, typing angrily on the black keyboard that failed to coordinate with the beige monitor above it. At the sight of her, the detective thumped a final key with more force than necessary and leaned back in her chair.
“It’s too early for your nonsense, Caliste. What do you want?”
She raised an eyebrow as she slid into the seat next to the desk, fully aware that making it obvious she was staying would irritate her even more. “I thought we could have a chat. A little this-for-that, right?” She leaned forward and stage-whispered, “I don’t know the words you use. Am I an informant? Are you going to put me in the hoosegow?”
“You’re an annoying brat, and I’ll put you in the street on your ass if you keep it up.” The slight twitch of her lips suggested she wasn’t completely serious.
Cali grinned and hoped it looked suitably provocative. “Okay, first, if you haven’t had enough coffee, you should definitely find more. If you have had a few, you should think about cutting back. This is not how you make friends. Maybe you and Tanyith could join some kind of support group to learn how to interact with other humans.”
Barton folded her arms, stared, and growled her irritation. “Get to the point.”
“I need something from you and in return, I have something for you. An opportunity. But you’ll want to ask questions, and I won’t be able to answer them as fully as you’d like. Are you okay with that?”
“Keep talking.”
“First, I need to know if you have surveillance on the gangs in town. I’m sure you do, but I need to confirm it.”
The woman nodded.
“So you’re the strong, silent type. Okay, now I get the picture. Speaking of pictures, I need some. I’m looking for two people in the human gang who are basically on the lower end of things but who you’d like to get off the streets. The same for the Atlanteans.”
The detective let her arms drop to the desktop as she leaned forward. “Why do you need them?”
Cali shook her head. “That’s one of the subjects I can’t answer fully.”
“And by fully you mean at all? That won’t fly, Caliste.”
She forced herself to relax and to trust. “Okay, look. I’m in a little deeper than I’d like to be
and I have to do something about it. In order to do that, I need a disguise. It makes sense to use someone who’s already a scumbag since this will mess up their lives. In fact, you’ll probably want to pick them up while the…” She paused as her protective instincts caught up. “While stuff is going down. For their protection.”
Barton frowned. “So you’re planning to impersonate these people and do something that will tick the gangs off.”
“It doesn’t sound as good when you say it. But yeah, that’s the plan.”
The woman lowered her forehead to the desk and a tapping noise accompanied the bone meeting the wood. Her expression was hidden by the angle and the dark hair that fell across the point of impact. After four times, she raised it and met her visitor’s eyes. “You’ll get yourself hurt. Or killed. And worse, you’ll get me fired for going along with it.”
Cali shrugged. “We have to do what we have to do, with or without your help. It’s safer with it, but I’ll understand if you don’t think you can. Tell me now rather than waste time I can use to adapt.”
Barton frowned. “You said ‘we.’ Who’s we? You and the blonde guy with the beard?”
“You know his name. Why do you do that?”
The detective laughed. “I learned it from watching Columbo. Answer the question.”
“Yes, Tanyith.”
“Okay. Let’s say I agree to help with this insanity. What’s in it for me?”
She’d discussed this detail with the other two briefly the night before prior to their leaving and going their separate ways. They’d added to her initial idea and agreed it should be persuasive. I guess we’ll find out. “You get gang members off the street who ideally might give you information but who will definitely want to leave town afterward. So, immediate cleanup. People care about statistics, right? That’s a cop thing? Mark down four for you.”
Barton shook her head. “I could do that without you. We generally let the small ones run until they can bring us bigger fish, and this is a fairly tiny catch.”