Requiem for Immortals

by Lee Winter

“Whatever you do, wherever you go, you can’t let them live,” Lola ground out, changing tack. “This will all get tied back to you when Ryan goes to the police.”

  “I’d think you’d have a bit more to worry about than my future.” Requiem edged closer and gave her a menacing look.

  “You wouldn’t dare kill me! I made you. After everything I’ve done for you! The life I introduced you to, a life you love! Besides, you worship me!”

  “Past tense,” Requiem drawled. “Now I just see the ugly.”

  “Well she’ll never want you. Do you know who her niece is? Do you? The girl was shouting it loud enough when Gunther dragged her through here.”

  Requiem crossed the room, picked up the pistol off the floor, checked its safety was off, and pointed.

  “Sound-proof, you say?” she asked, ignoring the baiting.

  “They will arrest you! You, the Great Requiem, in jail with the filthy, unwashed masses. All that grime and dirt! Pissing and showering shoulder to shoulder with them. And they will deny you your music. You will be powerless! Small.”

  “They will have no proof I was ever involved. And if they even come close, or if you’re tempted to talk, I will destroy you. I could pick your organisation apart with ease. Because the only person I was ever loyal to in your precious Fleet Crew is dead to me. If she even existed in the first place.”

  She corrected her aim, adjusting it.

  “You’re broken,” Lola hissed. “Do you even get that? You’re nothing. No one will ever want you. No one will ever find anything loveable about you.”

  “If I’m broken it’s still better than having no heart at all. Of us both, it’s you who’s the real monster. Enough. I’m not even sure I can say that it’s been a pleasure.”

  She squeezed the trigger.

  Nothing happened. The damned thing had jammed, probably damaged when it had been violently tossed across the room.

  There was a movement behind them, as the once unconscious thug groggily got to his knees. Requiem turned.

  “Gunther!” Lola cried out. “Kill them. In the back room. Now!”

  He rose to his feet and stumbled obediently, but barely conscious, for the rear door.

  “Decisions, decisions,” Lola laughed in her face. “Run and save them or stay and kill me. I assure you by the time you return I’ll be gone. And if you kill me first, Gunther will have killed them. So—what are you going to do?”

  Requiem shoved Lola aside, tossed the gun to the floor and ran for the back room.

  She could not prepare herself for what she found. The giant of a man was wrestling with Ryan who somehow appeared to be holding her own. Her mouth fell open. The little mouse was fending him off remarkably well, finding and using pressure points to make the man squeal like a stuck pig.

  Suddenly he turned, grabbed Hailey by the throat with one meaty hand, and squeezed.

  The teenager’s face grew bright red and her eyes rolled back in her head. Ryan’s lack of bulk was now a huge disadvantage and he shrugged her off him, flinging Ryan against the far wall.

  Their gazes intersected. Ryan’s silent, desperate plea met Requiem’s disgust at his actions.

  Who strangles a child?

  A fury flashed so deep inside her that she had no words. Taking one step forward, Requiem grabbed Gunther’s other arm, twisted it at an obscene angle behind his back until it broke in one loud snap. He dropped Hailey instantly, cried out, and spun around to face his attacker.

  Requiem used his turning momentum to hurl his bulk from the room and into the main area. In three strides she was on him, kicking him savagely in the groin. She crouched over him and with a well-aimed, pointed elbow, broke his nose.

  The crunching of cartilage was masked by the sound of Gunther’s primal howl. Requiem silenced him by giving him an uppercut so powerful he lost consciousness again, his body arcing upwards from the power behind it before slumping back to floor.

  Hailey screamed in fear at his howls and Requiem heard Ryan consoling her. She heard faint laughter and glanced back to the vehicle’s door.

  Lola was leaving. And, hell, if she didn’t look like some vaunted queen when she did. Two broken wrists, a tear-stained face, and still she had attitude. A part of Requiem, the part of her that was still sixteen and in awe, was highly impressed.

  “Well,” Lola said, as she stood next to the open door, wincing from the pain of moving, “I have to admit: You, dear, were my favourite monster.”

  “Lola,” Requiem ground out. Not quite sure what to say to her.

  Lola laughed. “Heavens, look at you! Even now, you can’t bring yourself to stop me. You’re useless, aren’t you? Cowering before me. How priceless! What a final image.”

  She exited and the door closed with a slap. Requiem turned to see Alison standing there, an odd look on her face. She’d witnessed the scene along with Requiem’s entire sickening weakness.

  Before she could move, a blur of teenager was upon her.

  “You saved us!” Hailey squealed and flung her arms around her.

  Requiem froze, unsure what to do. No one ever thanked her. No one ever touched her. It was so strange, this cascade of emotions, churning inside. She wondered how long she had to wait before she could disengage herself.

  She slowly shifted her gaze up to see Ryan who was watching her intently.

  Alison Ryan—who had taken on a brute of a man without thinking. Who had held him off with a variety of effective holds that Requiem suddenly realised she recognised. Ryan who had been impressive, confident and unfazed. Professional even.

  Requiem dropped to a crouch in front of Gunther. She checked his breathing knowing that if Ryan wasn’t sitting there, she would have ended him. One less witness.

  Even so, she still debated it. A sharp snap of the neck and…

  “Don’t,” Ryan whispered, voice thick, next to her ear. “It’ll only make everything much worse. And if you don’t care about that, at least don’t with Hailey here.”

  She took in Ryan’s white face, which still looked more steady than it had a right to be.

  Requiem’s hands stilled and dropped to rest on her thighs.

  “Who is Hailey’s father?” she asked tightly.

  “Barry Moore. Head of Homicide.”

  “So you’re a cop,” Requiem said flatly. Those chokeholds had been straight out of the police manual.

  Alison looked back at her steadily. Her shoulders had slumped but her voice did not waver.

  “And you’re Requiem.”

  Chapter 14

  Ryan stood in the centre of the room, appearing to contemplate what to do next. She turned and glanced back at the room she’d been held hostage in. She then took a few steps towards the next room down, a master suite, her gaze fixing on the phone on its wall.

  Gunther would have taken hers.

  “I should call the police,” Ryan said. “Pick up that thug for abduction. And Lola for…whatever she was doing. Accessory? Or was she the mastermind?”

  “If you think you should, then call,” Natalya said. “Or you could walk away. This problem would disappear if I made a different call entirely.”

  They took each other’s measure.

  “I’m a homicide detective,” Ryan said.

  “I see no bodies.”

  “Thanks to me intervening.” Ryan paused. “I swore to uphold the law.”

  It came out like a justification more than a plan of action.

  Natalya arranged herself regally on the padded booth seat. “Project confidence,” Lola had told her often enough, “and people will believe it.”

  “What an interesting choice you have then.” Natalya studied her nails casually.

  “If I call the police, you’ll be gone before I’ve even read out my badge number.”

  “Like I said, interesting choice.”

  Hailey, who’d seemingly been lost in her own world, suddenly looked between the two of them. “Wait, why wouldn’t we call the cops? That man tried to strangle me!
Like, to death!”

  Ryan’s lips pressed together at the reminder and she immediately walked into the bedroom to make the call.

  “What’s going on?” Hailey asked Natalya. “There’s a weird vibe in here.”

  “What do you think is going on?”

  Hailey frowned. “I think you pissed off my aunt. I just can’t figure out how, especially since you saved us.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Why does she think you want to run off?”

  “She knows I have to get back to my concert.”

  “So why aren’t you?”

  A good question. She should have retreated the second Ryan left the room. Instead a strange sense of calm settled over her. She recalled one of the first things Lola had ever taught her: When you run, people give chase. It’s instinctual. When you stand still, they’re not quite sure what to make of you. You set the tone.

  “By the way I think it’s kinda cute how you’ve got a pet name for my aunt,” Hailey said suddenly.

  “What?” Natalya started. She gave the teen her fullest attention.

  “You know, you call her Alison. I know she goes by her middle name at work cos of all the mix-ups with that other old cop lady who’s also Emily Ryan. She works in Traffic. That’s where Aunty Emily first started work as a cop.”

  Natalya stared at her. “Alison’s name is really Emily?”

  “Emily Alison Ryan. You don’t know much, do you?” Hailey peered at her. “I thought by now you’d be improving as a girlfriend.” She shot her a cheeky grin. “But, hey, you did save us, so…I totally forgive you.”

  Natalya wanted to hit something. Why hadn’t her supposed genius hacker thought to widen his search to middle names? So who the hell was Alison Ryan the admin assistant he’d pinged? It was her own damned fault for not briefing him more thoroughly.

  She was slipping—and she never slipped. She’d been making careless mistakes from the moment she’d first taken Ryan’s case. She considered the implications. She’d had a cop under her nose the entire time and had been too damned distracted to notice. Worse, a homicide detective. Jesus!

  This was unacceptable. When Lola found out, the mockery would be…she paused. Wait. Had the sly scorpion known all along? Had Requiem been set up? She’d put nothing past Lola, especially after today.

  Ryan chose that moment to return. Her eyes went to Hailey, as though reassuring herself her niece was still okay, and then shifted back to Natalya.

  “You’re still here,” she said, surprise colouring her voice.

  “Of course,” Natalya said serenely. She gave her a shark-like grin. “I am a witness. I do like to help the authorities when I am able—good citizen that I am. Despite rumours to the contrary.”

  A dissatisfied expression washed over Ryan. Natalya wondered whether she was annoyed she couldn’t prove who Requiem was. Because even after what had happened today, she would have nothing beyond circumstantial evidence, if that. Requiem had been too careful.

  “How did you know?” Hailey suddenly piped up, tugging Natalya’s sleeve. “To come and rescue us?”

  “I saw the man take you,” she replied, turning to her. “I have had training in several forms of martial arts. There weren’t any police around so I decided to come and get you myself.”

  “Just like that,” Ryan drawled, shooting her a dark look, “you decided to take on a kidnapper the size of a mountain.”

  Natalya’s lips twitched, her gaze intersecting sceptical blue eyes. “Yes,” she agreed, deadpan. “Just like that.”

  “Wow,” Hailey said. “You’re, like, a superhero.”

  Natalya’s lips curled. “I just did what anyone would,” she said, preening a little, just to piss off Ryan. She flashed them a magnanimous smile. “It’s important to stand up for what’s right.”

  Ryan rolled her eyes. “I’m going to see if there’s any water in the fridge. For some reason I have indigestion.”

  Natalya called after her in faux concern: “How odd it should come on so suddenly.”

  “Yes. How odd,” Ryan agreed. “Perhaps you could use your superhero skills to tie up the lump of asshole over there? I don’t know how long he’ll be unconscious for.”

  Natalya rose.

  “I’ll help,” Hailey said, adoration shining in her eyes.

  Natalya’s head snapped around. “No,” she said sharply. “This is not suitable for little girls.”

  “But I’m thirteen!” Hailey protested. “Not a little girl.”

  “Or teenagers,” Natalya corrected, walking over to a set of venetian blinds above the kitchen sink. “Trust me.”

  A flash of memory of the first time she’d ever done anything like this came to mind, and the thought of Hailey doing the same filled her with loathing. Kids should be allowed to be kids.

  “She’s right,” Ryan said. “Go into the bedroom. We’ll call your mother in a minute. Close the door. I don’t want you to watch.”

  With one firm yank, Natalya wrenched the blind off the wall and set about efficiently cannibalising it for its cord. Natalya heard both the fridge open and the bedroom door bang shut. She could feel Alison studying her.

  “So you’re Emily,” Natalya stated coldly without looking up. “Not Alison.”

  “I see Hailey’s been over-sharing again. But, yeah. Well, actually, I answer to either name. You try working in one department with two cops called Emily Ryan and see how much fun that is. Switchboard kept putting her kids through to me on a daily basis. I was starting to think they were mine.

  “Oh and just for added confusion I found out after I started going by ‘Alison’ that there was also an ‘Allison’ Ryan working there, as a secretary, but that was much easier to deal with. Our jobs and ages were too different to cause any mix-ups. Besides, it’s a different spelling.” There was a rummaging noise and a pause. “I see your friends like a lot of champagne. I mean that’s pretty much all there is in here.”

  “They’re not my friends,” Natalya said curtly. “They’re not anyone’s friends.”

  “Well, that Lola woman sure seemed to know you,” Ryan said. “That was an unusual farewell: You’re her favourite monster. What was that about?”

  Natalya merely grunted, unwilling to be drawn.

  “You know what I find so intriguing,” Ryan continued, “is that you and Lola both sit in exactly the same way. Like queens surveying their dominions. In fact the similarities go right down to the fingers drumming on the back of the seat and the tilt of the head. Isn’t that interesting?”

  Natalya said nothing as she continued working on her knots.

  “And the way she mocked you for not taking her on? That was personal. I think she’s family. Your mother maybe? A bit young? Well, she is related though.”

  Natalya twitched. So Ryan wasn’t entirely useless at her job. In fact, if today’s events were anything to go by, far from it.

  “I’m sorry she’s that way,” Ryan continued and her voice sounded genuine. “She was vicious to you. No one deserves that.”

  Natalya loathed the tone. Sympathy? From the mouse? That was rich.

  “You’d know all about that,” she said coolly. “Manipulative mothers.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? You don’t know a thing about my mother!”

  Natalya wondered if now was a good time to point out she knew what Mrs Elsie Ryan had for breakfast, right down to how she liked her tea with milk and two sugars. Instead she tugged on the knots binding Gunther extra hard.

  “Okay,” Ryan continued, undaunted by her silence, “so was there some reason she was cradling her arms when she left? And had tears running down her face?”

  “She may have fallen and broken both her wrists.” Natalya finally looked up.

  Ryan turned abruptly from the fridge, her eyebrows shooting skywards as she met Natalya’s gaze. “She…what?”

  “She’s very clumsy.”

  “Like that crazy ex of yours outside Hamburger Heaven?”

  “Not
my ex. A business associate.”

  “I’ll bet. Why does everyone in your orbit end up clutching damaged body parts?” Ryan asked, closing the fridge door with her foot and walking over to her.

  “It’s a mystery.” Natalya rose, stepping back to show Ryan the unconscious thug had been hogtied.

  “Oh, very expertly done,” Ryan said sarcastically. “Cellists are so well-rounded. I had no idea.”

  “No one does. It’s always the violinists who get the glory,” Natalya said dryly, flicking her eyes over Ryan, and heading back to the seating area.

  She arranged herself artfully on the seat again as Ryan knelt to check that the man had been adequately bound. Such little faith. No one was breaking those bonds anytime soon.

  “POLICE!” came a bellow from the door, followed by a banging that set the walls shuddering.

  “Ah,” Natalya noted, “showtime.”

  “I’ll bet,” Ryan muttered as she stood and walked to the door. “You’re good at performing. Everything’s just a façade to you, isn’t it?”

  “You can talk,” Natalya said, relaxing her features. Her body language oozed confidence and control. Inside, anger surged at Ryan’s hypocrisy. “Tell me, Alison, or Emily, or whoever you really are, was there any part of our acquaintance that wasn’t a lie?”

  The other woman paused. “What?”

  “You know exactly what I mean,” Natalya said, her gaze hooded. “Sneaky little mouse. Playing me the whole time.”

  Ryan’s head snapped around to glare at her, just as four men in uniform surged into the motorhome.

  Chapter 15

  Natalya finally made it home, later than she’d expected. She’d picked up her cello from Marks who wanted to grill her about her sudden departure from their ensemble. Natalya had simply walked away, grinding her teeth, her tolerance levels for humanity, especially the shallow end of the gene pool, at their lowest ebb.

  She fed her cone snail. Watered her African violet. Then she wandered around her home with a restlessness she’d not felt in years. Her mind drifted back to how the rest of the afternoon had played out. Her calculated gamble. The boldest of choices: To stay.

  She flipped on the TV news, wondering whether the media had picked up the story.