Grave Dealings (The Grave Report, Book 3)

by R. R. Virdi

  A seal. A particular one. Similar to something I’d used on my first case with Ortiz.

  I’d recorded the seal through rumor and whisperings of lore. The stories indicated it was one of many created by King Solomon out of legend to contain a variety of monsters. I knew they worked because Ortiz and I had used a similar one on our first case together, binding a creature to its vessel.

  The only problem was I didn’t know what to bind the Faust in. My journal was noticeably blank on any useful details beyond the seal.

  I frowned, turning my attention towards Ortiz.

  She stood over the kitchen counter. Ortiz had rolled one of her sleeves up, resting the bare arm on the zebrawood counter. A fillet knife rested in her right hand. Her fingers gently tapped against the handle, noticeably shaking.

  “Uh”—I rose from my seat and held up a finger—“now might be the time for me to make a knife-safety disclaimer.”

  She gave me a wan look with an equally forced smile. “I’m waiting for a better idea.”

  I exhaled through my nose, wishing I had one. “I’ve got part of one. And I know, that’s not the same as a good one.”

  “It’s not, but thanks.” She steadied her grip, and the knife became as unshakable as her resolve. Ortiz brought the blade to the top of her exposed forearm, shutting her eyes as she murmured something. She touched the fillet knife to her skin, dragging it across the surface slowly. Her lips folded under her teeth and she bit down. No sound of pain or protest left her lips.

  Beads of scarlet swelled from the skin before running together to create a thin stream along the shallow cut. Ortiz dropped the knife into the metal-plated sink, reaching out with her now free hand to open a cupboard above. She plucked a translucent plastic bowl, letting it fall onto the counter with a hollow thump. Ortiz held her arm over it, squeezing just below the bleeding area to force the blood to drip faster. It pooled in the bowl.

  I went over to her side, moving in silence. She didn’t need my help, and both of us knew it. That’s not why I did it though. I reached out, grabbing her work-issued firearm and pulling the magazine free.

  The magazine had been fully reloaded. I blinked and stared at her. “When did you...” I waggled the item.

  “After I parked at the hospital, just in case trouble came our way.” She tilted her head and eyed me. “For the record, it usually does when I’m dealing with you.”

  I gave her a lopsided grin and thumbed bullets free from the magazine and into the bowl.

  There wasn’t much blood, but past experience taught us that we only needed a touch.

  I placed the handgun on the counter, leaning and reaching past Ortiz to snatch a corner of a hanging paper towel. The reel spun as I tugged on the edge, refusing to tear free from the rest of the papers. A perforated line widened and tore free several sheets above the one I pulled on.

  Ortiz grabbed the lip of the bowl, shaking it to roll the rounds through some of her blood.

  I opened the tap and ran the paper towels through the cold water before wringing them. The wet paper struggled to keep its shape as I folded it and placed it on Ortiz’s cut.

  She shivered once, not making eye contact.

  I held the makeshift compress in place before balling it up to mop away the blood.

  Ortiz remained still through the process. “Thank you.”

  “’Course.” The word came out rougher than I’d wanted. She wouldn’t need any dressing for a cut so shallow. It’d heal in its own in time. I opened my mouth to say something as she rolled her sleeve back down.

  Anna’s phone rang.

  Ortiz stared at me and then my pocket.

  I plucked the phone from its place, staring at the screen. A blocked number. I answered the call. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Daniel.” The voice belonged to Anna.

  My fingers tightened around the phone to the point I worried about cracking the screen. The back of my throat felt layered in snow. I took a breath, steeling myself. “Anna.” I thumbed the speaker so Ortiz could follow the conversation.

  “Mhm. Imagine my surprise to find you alive and well, walking into my work.”

  The phone shuddered, threatening to flex under the increasing pressure from my grip. Anna had all but confessed to killing Daniel. At the very least, she made it clear she knew the man had died.

  Heat and gravel filled my voice. “Maybe next time you should do the job better.”

  Anna let out a small, self-satisfied laugh. “How about this time?”

  “What?”

  She didn’t reply. An assortment of indistinguishable and barely audible noises came through the phone. It was like she’d moved it away from her mouth.

  I struggled to listen.

  Someone sniffled.

  “Hello?”

  The sniffling stopped. “Daniel? I’m so sorry, man, please—”

  Oh shit. Eddie.

  “Hello? Eddie?”

  No reply.

  “Eddie’s tied up at the moment—literally. I’ve never been that sort of woman, but I wanted to make a point.”

  “And what point is that?”

  “That Eddie’s life is in my hands.”

  She had one hell of a point.

  “That goes for everyone else who’s dealt with you. You’re not stopping with Eddie.” I exhaled, letting the anger flood my voice. “You sure as hell didn’t stop when you were ahead.”

  “Oh?”

  “Renee.” I dropped the name with lead-like weight. I hadn’t known the woman for more than a few fleeting moments. She’d been pretty stuck-up. It didn’t mean she had deserved to die.

  “Everything has a price, dear.”

  “Everything has a consequence, too. When I find you, I’m going to kill you.”

  Monsters usually hang up when I threaten them on the phone.

  The line stayed live.

  “That’s a shame, Daniel, because I want to talk.”

  I waited to hear her out.

  “I want to deal.”

  Chapter Thirty

  I regretted having not smashed the phone. It would have spared me the ridiculous offer. “You want to what?”

  “Deal.” She sounded serious.

  My stomach shook and laughter rolled out. “You’re joking? You want me to make a deal—with you? I know how that’ll turn out. Spoiler, not in my favor.”

  “You’re mocking me.” Her tone could’ve stripped the bark from trees.

  I laughed harder. “Hell, yes I am. Why would I make a deal with a Faust?”

  The line went quiet.

  Crap. I swallowed slowly and hoped it wasn’t audible. Anna might take her frustration out on Eddie. He may have dug himself into that hole, but he didn’t need me making things worse for him.

  “Because I’m the one who can free Eddie from his contract. Provided, of course, you do as I say.”

  I took a deep breath. The proposition had its share of risks. I could get Eddie off the hook if I played my cards right. That meant getting close to the Faust. Easier for it to try to kill me.

  I wasn’t a fan of that.

  Technically, Eddie’s problem wasn’t mine. He had made his bed and dealt with a loan shark from hell, but Church and Ortiz had reminded me that my job involved trying to save people, regardless how bad they messed up.

  I exhaled and shut my eyes. “When and where?”

  Anna gave me the address and time.

  I didn’t know where it led, but I planned to find out before heading there.

  Stepping into anything unprepared is a recipe for disaster. Doubly so when it involves monsters.

  “I’ll be there. Remember, if you hurt Eddie—”

  “I know, you’ll kill me.” Anna’s smile found its way into her voice. I could almost hear her grinning. “Do you even know how to hurt one of us?”

  I gritted my teeth. “I’m resourceful. I’ll figure it out.”

  Anna let out a little chuckle. “Best of luck then. Don’t keep me waiting.”
She hung up.

  Bitch.

  I stowed the phone in one of my pockets and turned back to Ortiz.

  She stood, arms crossed, and arching a brow.

  I shrugged. “You heard her. If I show up, she’s offering to let Eddie go.”

  Ortiz’s forehead creased and her brows knitted together. “You don’t believe that, do you? It’s a trap.”

  I opened my mouth but Ortiz cut me off as she jabbed a finger towards me.

  “Don’t say it.”

  I bit back my Star Wars reference and sighed. “Fine. Yes, it’s probably a trap. But we know where she’ll be, if she isn’t there already. That’s something. It means we can get close.” I gestured with a hand to Ortiz’s gun.

  “Close works.” She gave me a knowing look. “It also means she could come after you if things go sideways.”

  I frowned. “I know. Better me than you or Eddie. I’ve got this.” I tapped a finger to the binding symbol in my journal. “Let’s hope it’s enough.”

  Ortiz patted her gun. “Same.”

  “I don’t like it. Feels like we’re going in blind.”

  She raised her brow higher than before. “We sort of are.”

  “We have an address...”

  Her mouth pulled into a lopsided smile. “We do, and I have an idea where it is. But it’s not much, to be honest.”

  “I know. I’m pulling at strings here. We’ve got an hour.” I glanced at my tattoo. The time remained the same as before. A small relief.

  I eyed the binding symbol again, out of compulsion more than anything else. A knot of worry formed in the front of my brain, almost pulsating like a miniature heartbeat. Between Ortiz and I, we had two big gambles to play, and those had a nasty habit of never paying off.

  But sometimes you have to play the hand you’ve got and hope your opponent has got a worse one.

  Not likely with my luck.

  I swallowed the pessimism of the bile that had built in the back of my throat. “Let’s go.” I took both of my journals, tucking them beneath an arm as I moved for the door. “You still got the shotgun in your car?”

  Ortiz gave me a reproachful look. “Yes. I’m not a fan of lugging it around though.”

  I stared at her as I reached for the door.

  She rolled her shoulders in a mild shrug. “It’s illegally modified as far as the state of New York is concerned. It was used in a crime, Vincent. That makes it evidence.”

  I froze as my hand fell on the knob. An undertone filled what Ortiz had said. I’d almost ignored it in my haste to rush to Eddie’s aid.

  The rules and laws of the justice system weren’t just guidelines or suggestions for Camilla Ortiz. They were ironclad and a source of her strength. She believed in them. Ortiz believed in doing the right thing by them and the people she took an oath to serve.

  There’s a power in that, serving a system.

  And every time she’d gotten involved with me, that belief and oath were tested. Even the small things pushed and prodded her convictions. Something like toting around a weapon she shouldn’t have.

  But so long as Vincent Graves needed it, why not?

  The bile returned, feeling like the acid tinge from an alkaline battery.

  I racked my throat to clear it before giving Ortiz an apologetic glance. “Thanks for hanging onto it nonetheless. I wish you didn’t have to do these things, but the supernatural don’t really play well with mortal rules. And if we want to stop them, we’ve got to consider doing the same.” I hated saying it, but it was the truth.

  “Careful, Vincent. That sounds like the start to a slippery slope. The kind I’m not comfortable with.” She kept her voice soft and low, but there was enough of an edge to let me know I was pushing too far.

  I pulled the door open and stepped through. The awkward silence followed as Ortiz passed me by. I locked up behind us and moved down the hall, carrying the quiet with me.

  Ortiz fell by my side, looking from me to her hands before eyeing me again. Her fingers closed around mine in a tight, brief squeeze. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

  “I know. Doesn’t change the fact you’re right.”

  “I am?” She sounded surprised by my admission.

  I bowed my head. “I hate to say it”—I flashed her a quick smile—“but you’ve got a point. That’s the problem with my world. You get pushed and pulled along, and sometimes to even the odds, you have to fight dirty. Black and white starts to get a little gray. Then, like you said, slippery slope and all.” I squeezed her hand back. “I lose track of that sometimes. Thanks for the reminder.”

  Ortiz’s eyes shone, and she returned my earlier smile with one of her own. “Of course. This kind of work isn’t easy. I’ve gone through my fair share in the field and it gets to you if you let it. The things you see and do stick with you. Some of them rattle you deep down. Eventually you start to wonder if there’s a way to skirt around the rules and make things work in your favor. It never ends well though.” Her voice was like brittle stone at the end.

  A cold slurry rolled through my gut as I caught the shift in tone and guessed what prompted it. I asked the question anyway. “Someone you know?”

  Ortiz looked down the hall and didn’t turn back to face me. “Once. We’re not going there. You still have things you don’t want to talk about. This is one of mine. Respect that, please.”

  I could do that. God knows I’d asked her enough times to respect the parts of my life I couldn’t share. I opted for changing the subject as we made our way down the stairs. “How fast do you think you can get us there?” I arched a brow.

  Ortiz’s mouth twitched once as she mulled it over. “Fast enough, why?”

  “Fast enough to park a bit out of the way? I’d like some time to scope out the place. Maybe I can figure something out.”

  She gave me a silent look that seemed to question the maybe part. Ortiz paused as we reached the doors leading out of the complex. “Do you really have something in mind?”

  I shook my head. “No, but I know someone who might.”

  She held her look, waiting for me to divulge any info about who I meant.

  I smiled and opened the door, stepping onto the dark streets of Queens.

  Ortiz crossed the few steps between us and caught up. “And they’re willing to help...you?”

  I sniffed at the implication, rolling my shoulders in a mild shrug. “Can’t hurt to ask.”

  Yes, it can, Graves. I cleared away the negative thought as fast as it had sprung up.

  We made our way towards Ortiz’s car before I to reached into my pocket and retrieved Anna’s phone. My thumb slid against the screen until I’d brought up a number I’d dialed earlier in the night. I pressed it, bringing the phone to my ear.

  Ortiz glanced at me before stopping by the driver’s side of her car. She unlocked it and got in, eyeing me as she fastened her belt.

  I made my way around to the passenger side, getting in as someone answered the line. “Hello?” I could’ve sworn there was a sigh on the other end of the line. After a moment of silence, I chalked it up to my imagination.

  “What do you want, Graves?”

  “Oh, you know, small talk. How was your day at work?” I muffled a general groan of discomfort as I opened the door and fell into the passenger seat.

  “I don’t have time to waste with you.” Gnosis sounded like he’d doubled up on the smoke and gravel diet.

  I pressed a hand to my chest in mock offense. “Waste? I’m hurt.”

  “You will be if you keep this up.” He wasn’t playing.

  I swallowed and realized something was up on Gnosis’ end. He didn’t mind my lip most of the time. “What’s up?”

  “Problems.”

  Ortiz watched me carefully, waiting for an answer.

  I wish I had one. Instead, I mimicked turning the keys with my hand.

  She got the gist of it and started the car. Ortiz pulled out and hit the road, not looking in my direction again.<
br />
  I had a feeling her ears would be on the conversation however. “What kind of problems? Anything I can do?” I regretted the words the second they left my mouth.

  Gnosis let out a dark laugh. “No. And really, you’d offer to help me? Is this some way of trying to get out of your debt?”

  The thought hadn’t crossed my mind, but it wasn’t a bad idea. What better way to get out of Gnosis’ grip than saving his tiny hide and calling it even? I’d done it before.

  Except there wasn’t a life hanging in the balance.

  Eddie couldn’t wait for me to putter around. I quashed the idea of freeing myself and got to the important matter. “I need your help...”

  “Why else would you have called?” His tone could’ve grated stone.

  Don’t be a smartass, Graves. Too much at stake. I bit back a snarky reply for something a bit tamer and to the point. “What do you know about Fausts?”

  The sound of clinking glass rang through the line. Nothing else followed.

  I waited, eyeing the passing buildings.

  Gnosis smacked his lips and released the sort of wet cough that came after a strong drink. “Why do you want to know?”

  I opened my mouth to speak.

  “Never mind. You’re hunting one, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.” I shot Ortiz a quick glance.

  Her face was fixed straight ahead, but she gave me an equally quick look out of the corner of her eyes.

  I turned away from it, hoping Gnosis had something useful for us. He usually did. The question was: What would it cost me?

  The gnome exhaled like he’d taken another swig.

  He was really going at that bottle.

  “Maybe you should take it easy on the descent into alcoholism. I kind of need you to be, you know, useful?”

  Gnosis scoffed. “What you need...is a miracle.”

  Ouch. Shots fired. I waited for him to explain why he thought that.

  “What exactly do you know about Fausts, Vincent?”

  I took a deep breath and tried to settle my fried nerves. Ortiz and I didn’t have time to waste with a boozed-up contact. I told him what little I knew, making sure to tell him about the seal as well.

  Gnosis let out a series of coughs that he quickly muffled. He cleared his throat and acted like I hadn’t heard. “That’s a decent enough understanding of them. They operate in similar circles to my own. Only they don’t barter so much as lie, manipulate, and take advantage of people.” An edge of jagged glass filled his voice.