Blood, Dirt, and Lies

by Rachel Graves

  I didn’t take Her command so much as continue with what I was doing. I searched, opening myself to all the death in the building. The littler things, bugs and plants, those deaths barely registered. A dog a few floors down who would pass in the next few days buzzed at me. While my companion tried to direct me, tried to pull the sense of death in one direction I went another, trying to find the power I knew so well.

  “Take it first,” She said. It took me a minute to realize She was talking about the dog. I’d done that once with a werewolf, commanded it to die and it had. I wasn’t about to do it again, not unless someone was attacking me. I ignored Her, and pushed out to the parking lot, to the outside.

  I found him there, my lover, a vampire who changed nearly six hundred years ago. I could see how powerful he was, how old and how strong with that death sense.

  I could imagine his fine blond hair cut short on the sides but long enough to style in front, his sparkling blue eyes and his body, lean and strong in all the right places.

  But it wasn’t his physique my magic saw, it was the magic he could control, the magic that made him what he was. I followed his magic as he walked a few steps from the car. Then, in a way that meant he could feel me too, Jakob ignored the building and flew to my balcony.

  I dropped E’s hand and the fire left with it. I didn’t need the flame anymore. Jakob could warm me up just fine.

  “Hi there,” I told him, my voice breathless. He looked every bit as good as I pictured him. In jeans and thin gray sweater, his bright blue eyes sparkled under wet eyelashes. His frame was lean like a dancer with narrow hips and a tapered waist. Seeing him, a little wet from the trip and perfectly framed inside my balcony door, almost made me forget about the other person in the room.

  “I thought I felt…is everything all right?” he asked, anxious. I didn’t use magic outside of work unless there was a problem.

  “It’s fine, Mallory needed to warm up,” E interrupted with a smile.

  Jakob frowned. A devout Catholic he didn’t approve of Pagan gods. He’d helped raise E. Watching what the goddess put her through as a child confirmed his opinion that the only good god was his. I tried to be more open minded but the way that fire-voice pushed me to kill the dog bothered me.

  “I’ll leave you two alone,” E said on her way out. Before she shut the door, she called back, “Enjoy the storm.”

  “Should I ask?” Jakob looked at me, his face a mix of concern and disapproval.

  “Not really.” I clicked off the gas fireplace and looked out the windows, not relishing the idea of driving in the mess of rain, snow, and ice. “So you want to drive or should I?”

  “We should take both cars, but I suspect you don’t want to risk Lara.” Jakob’s smile made it clear he was teasing. Of all my friends, he indulged my love for my Jeep, for Lara, more than anyone else. He’d been with me on the night the two of us first saw each other. Lara was the prize in a raffle the church of Anu, the air god, had done. Jakob put up with my insane desire to win her and my more insane need to name her, drive her, and pamper her ever since. It was just another way he was the perfect boyfriend.

  “You’re right. I want her safe and sound in her underground parking space.”

  There was no way to argue I should drive; Jakob had better reflexes and he could see things I never would. Minutes later, I was happy to sit in the passenger seat and watch the city streets give way to rural highways.

  “What are we going to do for three days of ice and cold?” he asked.

  “Well I had a few ideas…” I turned away from the window and dropped my hand to his neck, caressing the cool skin there. While I might not share Jakob’s taste in decorating I loved spending time in his bedroom. Six hundred years of practice made him one hell of a lover and with three days off work when I’d be trapped inside I couldn’t think of anything better to do than spend my time in his bed.

  “For all three days?” I could see him struggling to keep his eyes on the road. I let my hand drop from his neck to his thigh.

  “Well, maybe not all three, but at least the first two.” I laughed as he hit the accelerator. Jakob drove a vintage special edition Mercedes. Whenever I borrowed it I drove with more caution than a ninety-year-old on her way to church. He treated it like a machine, pushing it to go faster even on those dark slick roads. I did my best not to scold him for it, while I promised myself I’d never let him drive Lara that way.

  ****

  We pulled into his garage and got inside without getting drenched. I was grateful, since there was no way I was calling on the fire goddess again. Jakob’s home might have been formed by magic into a cave but it never felt cold or damp, only welcoming and safe. Something about coming inside made me want to take my shoes off and relax, so I did, sitting on the sofa while he made a fire for us.

  “This is pretty romantic you know.” I tried to smile suggestively.

  “Is it?” He feigned innocence coming to sit beside me, his hand casually tracing circles on my leg. Even through my pants his touch stirred me.

  I leaned over and kissed him gently, careful not to move the leg he was touching. He smiled at me and returned my kiss with another. I ran my hands over his chest and back, feeling the soft sweater and the hard muscles beneath it. Jakob had been a miller once hundreds of years ago; working with heavy wooden machines he’d shaped those muscles into planes and angles. I loved the way they felt under my skin.

  Between kisses he whispered to me in his first language, an Old German he only used in our intimate moments. I didn’t understand all the words, beautiful and beloved I caught, but the tone of those sweet whispers stole my breath away.

  “I want you in my bed,” he said, switching to English before he lifted me up. Jakob held my weight effortlessly, the way a vampire could lift anything from a car to a feather but there was tenderness in his touch, a gentleness that made me love him. I rested my head against his chest, finally used to the quiet there, the silence left by no heartbeat, no breath.

  He walked the hallway to the bedroom but I didn’t look at the photos on the wall or the carpet beneath his feet, my gaze stayed locked on his chest and the almost impossible to see fine blond hairs. My examinations ended in the bedroom, when he put me down on the soft bed, whispering again how much he loved me.

  After that I stopped paying attention to his words, and focused on his body and the wonderful way it made me feel. Satisfied, Jakob held me until I drifted to sleep, telling me how much he loved me the whole time.

  ****

  I woke up on Wednesday morning later than usual. Jakob’s bedroom with its lack of windows did that to me. With no sunrise to wake me I always slept as late as my body wanted. It was a delicious feeling, and it went perfectly with the blueberry muffins he’d left for me in the kitchen.

  Jakob was an amazing cook which was both a blessing and a curse. It was one of the places where we didn’t get along; he thought I ate too much junk food, I thought his insistence on healthy eating was childish. I sat on one of the kitchen stools picking the whole grain oats off the top of my muffin trying to decide what to do with my time until he woke up.

  What did people do on snow days? If I had family I could call them but I didn’t. My dad died when I was a kid, I barely remember him. My mom and I hadn’t always gotten along; then when I was thirteen she started dying of cancer. She did a bad job of it, hanging on until I was twenty-three.

  My husband Greg didn’t share her trouble; he died quick and easy, riding his motorcycle around a turn, not paying attention. Of course, Greg had a little trouble staying dead. I’d called him back as a zombie without realizing it, so maybe Mom’s method was better.

  I shook off my morbid thoughts as I made coffee. Phoebe, my best friend, had set up a shelter for people who didn’t want to spend the storm alone. She was a spirit witch and lately she’d been volunteering with an outreach group. They found witches who were new to the life, scared and alone, and put them to work helping the community, turning
a potentially bad situation into a win-win.

  With her long blonde hair and sparkling green eyes, Phoebe was perfect for the group, photogenic and outgoing, not to mention always able to guess when someone was down. She’d invited me to help out but I didn’t think a death witch would be welcome in a shelter filled with scared people.

  My other friends were riding the storm out at home; Anna and her girlfriend Nancy were probably stocked up on fire wood and wouldn’t be coming out for days. Isaura, the air witch in the group, was home as well. Her Lord of the Rings marathon would only be interrupted by phone calls to Ben at the station. They’d been dating longer than Anna and Nancy, and even though they didn’t live together we all agreed they were the better couple.

  Rhythm, a Greek muse who completed our quintet, was hosting a three-day long dance party at the local witches’ bar, Convenire. I could have gone there or watched movies with Isa, or crashed the romantic doings at Anna’s place. Could have gone lots of places actually, could have even worked through the storm.

  So why was I in Jakob’s living room waiting while he slept? I didn’t have a good answer, so I settled down with a book to ignore the question. I dozed, I must have because when I looked up there was a woman looking at me. She sat on the edge of the couch, her skin dripping but not making anything around her wet. Her hair dripped water down her pale skin, bloodless lips opened and water poured out.

  It was the woman we’d pulled from the river. I reached out to touch her hand and instead grabbed a cool mist.

  “What?” I asked.

  The ghost opened her mouth again and more water poured out. My hand broke through the mist, reaching for her and the words screamed into my mind.

  “Stop them.” Over and over again, stop them, you have to stop them, they have to be stopped, don’t let them, stop them, pounding into my brain. She didn’t tell me who, she didn’t tell me why, just that I had to stop them. It went on for hours the clock said were only seconds and then she was gone. I laid on the couch nursing a headache before I got up and called the squad room.

  ****

  “SIU, Edwards.”

  “Simon, perfect.” I smiled despite my task. Simon was a very strong spirit witch. Of all the people I could have gotten on the phone he was one of the best. “Danny and I went to look at a body yesterday. It’s not our case but it needs to be. The dead woman showed up to talk to me. Can you pull the case for me?”

  “Uh, maybe? There’s a form, right?”

  “There’s a form for everything. I think this one is an 86J…or 86K? I can’t remember without my cheat sheet.” Simon and I were both new to the force; I had nine months in, he had six. I didn’t feel the least bit of guilt admitting to him I hadn’t committed the number of every form to memory.

  “86H, transfer responsibility for the investigation of a homicide due to supernatural interference,” a voice called from outside the receiver.

  “Thanks, Amadeus,” Simon said cheerfully while I groaned. Obnoxious know-it-all vampire.

  “Shouldn’t he be asleep?”

  “It’s dark out, he’s eating, so no big deal.” Simon ignored my angry tone. “I’ve got the form, I’ll look the case up. Want me to email the details to you at home?”

  “Uh, I’m at Jakob’s, I’ll log into work from here.” I gave it to him and chatted politely for a few minutes. The squad room was quiet, no one causing any problems, no one needing our help. We both hoped it stayed that way.

  My email came through a few minutes later. The message told me “all transfers are 86, H for homicide.” Three guesses who sent it and the first two don’t count. Amadeus was determined to remind me he was a better detective. I was sitting in front of the computer in Jakob’s office drumming my fingers angrily when he found me.

  “If you just woke up now, why is Amadeus awake and being a pain in my ass?”

  “He’s not that young, and if there was a good reason he could stay awake, especially if he had time to prepare.” I heard him sit down on one of the leather chairs, but kept my eyes on the infernal machine. “What was important enough for him to call you at three in the afternoon?”

  “I called the office, not him. Turns out Amadeus joined the SIU. Didn’t you know?” I finally looked up. Jakob was wearing my favorite outfit: black silk pajama bottoms and nothing else. If there was anything that would get me to forget my most annoying co-worker he was it.

  “No, but he did tell me he’d be looking for another line of work.”

  “Because you didn’t approve of his last job?” I asked even though I knew the answer. Jakob didn’t approve of vampires biting their lovers. Since I had no desire to play pincushion it worked out for us. The women Amadeus worked for had a much different opinion.

  Phoebe, who was a bit of a sexual adventurer, had been more than happy to pay two hundred and fifty dollars for the pleasure of him taking her mind and making her feel things she’d never felt before. Unfortunately, the whole experience left her a bit confused, and when she came to cry on my shoulder Jakob overheard.

  It led to a short fight between us; it ended with me extracting a promise that he’d never hurt Amadeus. I was kicking myself for that promise right now.

  “Actually, a new position was his suggestion. I take it you’re not pleased?”

  “No. The bastard is sitting at my desk right now, showing off how he’s a better cop than I am and it’s only his second day. He’s obnoxious and annoying and—”

  “I suppose asking you to evaluate him on the merits of his work would be a waste?”

  I glared at him for having the audacity to suggest something so fair and logical.

  “I suspected as much. If he’s working night shift will you really have to deal with him much?”

  “No, but that’s not the p—”

  “Has he done anything truly offensive or does his very presence aggravate you?”

  “Not truly offensive,” I stalled realizing how neatly his logic ruined my argument. His logic had a habit of doing that. “But on the phone when I couldn’t remember the name of the form he said it and then he sent me this note explaining how to remember it and…”

  That’s it, the rant was ruined. I might not like the smoldering looks Amadeus gave me but coming from anyone else I’d consider what he’d done helpful. Phoebe, with her spirit witch insight, and another friend, a satyr, both told me I had a thing for Amadeus, an attraction; it bothered me so much I turned it into hate. They could be right.

  I’d worked with difficult people before, like the werewolf on the squad, who turned out to be a great guy despite the way werewolves scared me into a panic whenever I saw them. If I could see past my issues to accept him, I could cut Amadeus a break. Maybe.

  “Something woke me?” Jakob politely changed the subject.

  “Oh, yeah the ghost, sorry.” I’d forgotten about her for a minute. Okay, I’d forgotten about her for more than a minute.

  “Nothing to worry about then?”

  “New case,” I said, pointing to the paper work. “Why don’t I tell you about it while you cook dinner?”

  Jakob had moved on from his obsession with Nigella Lawson, the famous Italian cook, to a mild obsession with Bobby Flay, the famous American cook. Personally, I didn’t like the guy, but what his recipes did in Jakob’s hand made me weak. Tonight, was a mushroom soup with some sort of fried ham. Crispy ham, maybe? Jakob was cutting it into strips with a frying pan full of oil waiting on the stove. It was all fascinating to watch but not nearly as fascinating as the case in front of me.

  “Okay, so Cynthia Sweeny, age forty-three, lobbyist for MetroTech Chemicals but she started there as a scientist processing soil samples. First reported missing by her boyfriend about three days ago. Want to see the picture?”

  Jakob shook his head, busy doing something with mushrooms.

  “Too bad, because that’s about it. She has a normal week, heads out on Saturday afternoon and no one sees her again until we pull her out of the river. No links t
o any known crime, no past history, nothing, perfectly normal life until she ends up dead.”

  “What did her ghost tell you?”

  “Stop them. But there’s nothing here that helps me with who they are.” I flipped back through a few pages. “Guess that’s the mystery.”

  “Good thing you’re a detective,” Jakob teased. I was thinking of a witty reply when my cell phone rang. I grabbed it and recognized the number with a smile.

  “Hey partner, about that case the other night—”

  “I’ve got something more important. Where are you?”

  “Jakob’s place.”

  “Fuck.” I’d never heard Danny curse before.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Maeve’s got a fever, nothing we give her is bringing it down and now we’re out of Tylenol. None of the stores are open. I’m scrambling to find some.”

  “Even if the stores were open you couldn’t get there.” I looked out to Jakob’s wide stone porch; it was covered in two inches of solid ice.

  “I can’t drive anywhere, I could walk though, or…or hell it doesn’t matter if they’re not open.”

  “The hospital?” I tried, panic creeping into my brain.

  “We called. They told us not to bother. Even if we found a way there with the roads this way they’re packed. How the hell do I treat a fever with no drugs in the middle of an ice storm?”

  I had no idea. Thankfully, before I told Danny that entirely not reassuring thought Jakob took the phone.

  “Pack her in snow, or at least ice, her arm pits, around her neck, behind her knees.” I couldn’t hear what Danny was saying but I was grateful to have someone who’d raised kids long before Tylenol or even thermometers existed.

  “Just one blanket, a thin one.” There was another pause, some question but Jakob interrupted. “I have drugs here, everything an adult might need, if she can take—”

  “There’s a small stream not too far behind the house. You could get to it from the river.”

  The one-sided conversation was beginning to get to me. How had we switched from talking about drugs to rivers? They went on for a while, directions, landmarks you could see from the river, none of it making sense. Danny didn’t have a boat.