by C C Sommerly
“Here to report,” I said.
And, then I saw that he had company. A woman, who looked like a million bucks – the personification of old money sat there sneering at me. She had long honey-blond hair that cascaded down her back in soft waves. Her dress was heavily embroidered and her waist cinched to an impossibly small size.
“Dear me, what is that horrible stench Sterling?” she asked.
The woman pulled out a silken handkerchief and cradled it delicately against her pixie nose.
“Nothing to concern yourself over, Julia. We’re working diligently to retrieve your necklace, as promised. I’ll give you an update in the next couple of days.”
“See that you do.”
She gave me one final disapproving look and swept from the room in the regal way that only the extremely wealthy can manage. I always assumed it was something that was genetically bred into them as well as the condemnation that was inherent in them all.
With the woman gone, I plopped down on the winged back chair, finally getting to relax. Sterling looked at me worriedly and put his hands on the wooden desk as he leaned forward.
“You are back sooner than expected and empty handed, Rayne?” he asked.
The man was a genius and working towards his own decapitation with words like that. As my boss, he got away with using my given name. No one else dared calling me “Rayne” for fear of dismemberment or death.
“Well, the tip was a bust, much like we anticipated. That little weasel, Edgar, lied to us”.
“And that surprises you why?”
“No surprise, but like any dutiful PI, the tip needed to be followed up on.”
At his snort, I continued, “the only interaction I had was from a poorly executed mugging. But, I did get some info from Rat.”
“I’m assuming the mugging failed.”
With a raise of my eyebrows, I showed Sterling what my thoughts on that were. As if I couldn’t handle myself against a single mugger. I didn’t get to be infamous in the street fighting community and one of the youngest of the Agency for my looks, which weren’t half bad if you asked me.
At twenty-three, I was fairly young to be a senior investigator, but my youth is also what let the client’s guard down. It allowed me to capture or kill them – depending on the assignment. One less supernatural menace was always a good thing in my book.
“In the alley of the Dirty Fix, I found Rat hanging about. He admitted that some of the Scavengers were contacted about a necklace by a mage. This mage instructed them to bring him any necklace they found in exchange for money.”
“That is rather timely. We recently took on a missing necklace case.”
“It might only be a coincidence, but do you want me to follow up with the Mage Guild just in case it’s our necklace.”
“Yes, since it’s going to be your case. See that you visit the Guild first thing in the morning to inquire about this mage. We were given this case because we can be discrete. Do I need to impress upon you the importance of this case?”
I couldn’t hold back my laughter. No one considered me “discrete”. Direct and death-inducing were more my style.
“Can you take anything seriously? Julia Huntington was against me giving such a high-profile case to you. And, your reputation as a hot head isn’t exactly unfounded.”
“Look, I’m not a complete idiot. I can keep a low profile.”
Sterling coughed several times.
“You beat down a mugger and probably shook down Rat”.
“How did you know I beat him down? I intentionally left that part out.”
“You have crap on your boots. And, I’m not wrong, am I?
“You’re right. And you owe me for the boots.”
“You tracked crap into my office?
“You did ask to see me. What I was going to say before you interrupted was that something is off about this case. My gut is screaming at me that we are missing something.”
“So, the rumbling I heard wasn’t your stomach’s cry for those burgers you favor”.
“Well, my stomach and this case. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get my BAM on.”
“By all means, don’t let me keep you. Oh, and Marty, you might consider cleaning up first. It’s usually considered ‘bad manners’ to walk into food establishments smelling of defecation.”
2
After the shortest shower ever and a change of clothes, I darted out of the Agency. I headed to the Divide. It was exactly that, a divide between Uptown and Downtown – a line of demarcation from the haves and the have nots. Uptown was made up entirely of the upper class and Downtown being everyone else. It also marked the location of premiere store fronts and eateries that were still in full swing despite the late hour.
Entering BAM, I queued up in the ten-person deep line to order. BAM looked like any old-fashioned diner. It had a black and white checkered tile floor. White walls and red stools and booths filled it.
I shifted my feet back and forth as I stood, impatient to shut my stomach up with a BAM burger. The air was heavy with smoke from the wood fire grill and the scents made my stomach pitch a fit – not exactly helping keep me waiting patiently. Hopefully, it was a short wait because I was tempted to knock some people around to get to the front of the line.
A high-pitch squeal rang out and I turned towards the sound. I barely managed to catch Jennica before she forced us both off our feet and onto the ground. The demi-fae, who despite her lithe figure could make any linebacker proud with her tackles. She was one of the few people I tolerated and one of the only reasons why I allowed her over-the-top shows of affection. As luck had it, she also seemed to be craving a BAM fix.
“Marty!!!!! It’s been ages,” she said.
Although, suggesting it had been ages since we last met was a bit of a stretch. I had just visited Jennica, at her work, a month ago. Jennica was a bit spacey about time like most demi-fae. To her, a week could seem like a month and a month a year.
I held back a sneeze. She had a habit of being a tad too heavy-handed with the cloying perfumes, which always itched my nose. Aside from tolerating Jennica, I also enjoyed her company.
The two of us made an odd pair. I towered over her five foot nothing frame and my silvery hair made me seem edgy, while she was a golden girl. Jennica had clear turquoise eyes that were as unusual as they were beautiful. Her eyes combined with her wheat-colored hair made her look like the girl next door. I stood out like an older and homelier version to her angelic beauty.
I’d met her years ago when I took her case at the Agency. Jennica was a demi-fae foundling and came to me for help with a block that was put on her powers when she was little. She had no memories of her early life and only remembered her time here in the Earthly Realm. Her case was one of the only ones that I hadn’t solved to my great disappointment, embarrassment, and regret.
When I couldn’t find a way to remove the block, she cried brokenly, a wounded sound that still haunts me to this day. But not once did she blame me or say a harsh word about my failure. That only added to my guilt.
If there was anyone that deserved to be whole and in possession of their magic, it was Jennica. She was the kind of person that never said anything bad about you. She always found good things to say about people. I don’t think she ever had a mean thought.
I still took time in my spare moments to look through her closed case in hopes that I missed some vital clue. So far, nothing had panned out, no new clues appeared, I didn’t find anything I’d missed.
We placed our orders and grabbed our meals. Luckily, we snagged a booth. The leather was well-worn and buttery-soft. I gratefully sank into it.
As soon as we sat down, Jennica grabbed my arm excitedly and clung to it. My heavenly burger sat untouched before me, but not for long. Good manners dictated that I shouldn’t eat until she started her food, but I was too hungry. I drenched ketchup over the burger with my free hand as she started babbling. I could eat and listen.
“Oh M
arty, the best thing happened ever! I found someone that can help me with my block.”
My instincts told me to pay attention to this.
“That’s unbelievable Jennica.”
But, I was having a hard time believing it. This was also worrisome. Blocks, like hers, were one of the hardest spells to break. I knew because years ago we went to dozens of healers and mages to get hers removed. They all agreed they’d never seen a block like hers and that hers couldn’t be removed without damaging or killing Jennica.
“Who is offering to do this?” I carefully asked, hoping none of my skepticism crept into my voice.
She darted her eyes away and refused to meet my gaze, which made me more suspicious. Jennica couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. And, she was obviously uncomfortable answering questions about this mysterious miracle worker. I really didn’t want to interrogate my only friend, but I needed details.
Jennica fidgeted with her rings before finally answering me “Marty, I can’t say. I’m sworn to secrecy. If I didn’t promise not to tell, then they wouldn’t help me.”
She pouted and looked broken-hearted. I wasn’t going to let her play on my emotions to get out of questioning her. This was a fool’s quest and she’d be crushed when it failed.
“Him or her?”
“I didn’t say. No, you aren’t using your investigative wiles on me, Marty. I swore a blood oath and can’t tell you anything.”
I wanted to reach across and throttle her for being so foolish to enter into a blood oath with a stranger. That was the stupidest thing she could have done.
Blood oaths were binding and couldn’t be broken without severe consequences, which more often than not was death. The penalty of breaking one depended on the oath.
Jennica swearing a blood oath showed just how desperate she was. As far as I knew, Jennica was content with her magicless life.
Magic is overrated anyways. I wanted to have the least amount of involvement with it. I refused to use my mage gifts and did just fine without magic. And was just fine with my life as a non-magical being. But I wasn’t Jennica. For some supernaturals, magic was everything. Having it hidden away or blocked was an acute absence that never went away. It was like an aching tooth drumming a slow and steady rhythm of pain that couldn’t be ignored.
“Aren’t you happy for me?”
“I’m just surprised. This is rather unexpected news.”
I studied her face. She wasn’t just happy, she was glowing. Jennica was rarely upset and was like a ray of sunshine in my dreary and ugly life. As a PI, I saw the worst of the worst. But she was different and should be protected. With this damn blood oath, there wasn’t anything I could do.
I schooled my expression, so that none of what I felt showed.
“If you can’t tell me who, then at least tell me when is this supposed to go down? I can be there to watch your back”.
“Marty, I can’t. I agreed to go alone and it’s secret, so you can’t go with me.”
Jennica’s eyes watered and got that glossy tell-tale sign that foreshadowed tears. While everything about Jennica was beautiful, she was an ugly crier. She made the tears complete with the snot spewing, red-faced inducing, and hiccupping mess.
“Then, tell me a timeframe when this will happen. Tomorrow? Next week? Next month? I want to check in with you after it’s done. And, most importantly, I want to see you with your magic. You can show me what was hidden away all this time and we can celebrate. BAM burgers on me”.
She giggled.
“You’ll be the first one I see. But, I’m not telling when, I want it to be a surprise.”
“Just promise me you’ll be careful. Can’t have my favorite demi-fae harmed.”
She answered with a half-smile. We both knew that she wouldn’t be careful and there wasn’t a darn thing I could do about it.
As we finished our burgers, she sat and hummed and I tried to ignore my growing fatigue. I had been up almost twenty hours. Now that my adrenaline was spent, I felt every one of those hours. I’m not done with Jennica, despite my caseload, I’d look into this mystery benefactor promising something I doubted he or she could deliver. I owed it to her. We said our good-byes and I headed back to the Agency.
3
Late the next morning, I pulled out my trusty black leather jacket. I shimmied into a pair of black leather pants and a black crop top. Black didn’t show blood as well as other colors. Learned that the hard way when I spent all of my monthly salary on clothes to replace the stained ones. My shirt had one of my favorite mottos on it “Don’t make me torture it out of you, I’ll like it.”
I strapped on my dagger to my thigh holster and my gun into my hip holster – not that I needed either. My most deadly weapons couldn’t be taken away from me. As a street fighter, I was a champion fighter and was confident that I could take on most opponents and win.
Based on Rat’s information, my next stop was the Mage Guild Headquarters to ID the mage that was bribing the street people to help him. And, time-permitting, I needed to check on Jennica.
I raced down the stairs and nearly made it to the door when Sterling called out.
“Oh Marty, aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Nope, I have everything in hand,” I said with one hand on the door.
“Take Zander with you. And, I’m assigning you some new cases,” he said.
I swung around to respond and saw Zander sulking next to Sterling in the hallway. He had on a hat and sunglasses in his hand. Zander was wearing one of his graphic t-shirts. This one said, “I’m with Stupid.” Each time I took Zander out, I swore it was my last. He was a trouble magnet and I really couldn’t afford to babysit with my glut of cases piling up on.
“He needs to get out Marty and it’s your turn.”
Zander now wore a sheepish grin. I didn’t buy it for a moment. He was a typical ornery teen, who didn’t listen to anything. I didn’t even like kids and I was living with one. And, he was mouthy as all heck, so was I, but at least I could back it up. He was without his magic and couldn’t be bothered to train in self-defense.
“He’s not a dog that needs to be walked for God’s sake, Sterling. I need to go to the Mage Guild Headquarters. I can’t bring him in there given his condition.”
“Leave him in the car then,” Sterling said.
Oh sure, because that was a safer option.
Sterling crossed his arms over his chest. He meant business this time. I wouldn’t be able to weasel out of Zander duty.
“Fine, but you better not stick me with this for at least a month.” To Zander I said, “Come on.”
Zander trudged up to me and we headed to my car. My vehicle was a dim shadow of her former glory. I got her as a payment from a client who was cash-strapped. She was a classic 1949 Mercury but had been sorely mistreated and it showed.
At one time she’d been a sleek and shiny black, but now, she was rusted out in places. She was dimmed to a grainy shade that wasn’t quite black, but not so faded out to be considered gray. My baby had a cracked headlight and the springs poked through the seats.
She ran like a dream though and I was told when Francois handed her over that she was a “very special car”. By that, he meant possessed because she was a royal bitch at times and had to be coddled.
Case in point, the first time Zander smoked in the car, Betty pumped exhaust into his side of the car. She didn’t stop until Zander put out his cigarette.
Another time, I skipped an oil change and when I tried to drive the car to anywhere other than the mechanic, she sprayed oil onto my clothes. So, while she was beyond difficult and a handful at best, but she was my handful. We all treaded carefully around her.
Zander grumbled the entire drive Uptown to the Mage Guild Headquarters. Although, I suspected that he was complaining out of nerves more than anything. And, while his presence was an annoyance for me, being out was scary for Zander. He used to be a powerful Mage and managed to get himself transformed perm
anently into a teenager. I’m not sure how he managed that. Any time one of us at the Agency tried to get the story out of him or offered to help, he freaked out.
Having him with me meant that I needed to park away from the headquarters, so he wasn’t spotted. I went into the nearby parking complex and tucked Betty in between two monstrous trucks. That should conceal Zander.
“Don’t touch anything or attempt to pull any crap with Betty.”
“As if she’d let me.”
After a quick elevator jaunt, I made my way down to the crowded sidewalk that led to the Mage Guild Headquarters. It was designed to inspire intimidation and illustrate the sheer power that the Guild maintained with an iron fist.
The headquarters was located in an impressively tall, white stone building that dominated the street. It was five stories tall – two stories higher than any other building on the street. It was flanked with dozens of ornate columns wider than most trees that extended fifty feet into the air. They framed each side of the 98 stairs.
I only knew how many steps there were because out of boredom one day I sat and counted them, while waiting for my contact to come out of the headquarters.
I climbed up the stairs passing harried clerk mages, who managed to convey a sense of dignified angst. Once inside the Guild Headquarters, I took a number and went to sit on one of the chairs neatly lined up in orderly rows and already filled with people.
As the minutes dragged by and started edging to the hour’s mark, my patience melted away. I didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to myself, but I didn’t have time for a difficult receptionist to waste my time.
I marched up to the receptionist’s desk, ignoring the looks of surprise and the glares from some of the other citizens. I whipped out my private investigator’s badge and slapped it down on her desk. The receptionist was close in age to me. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun – not a single stray hair daring to escape. She tipped down her chin, letting her glasses slowly sink down on her nose in a disapproving, librarian glare.