by R. J. Blain
Since I couldn’t do much else, I kicked the seat. “That’s not at all funny, Luke. Anyway, Detective Davis has his first homicide case to handle.”
Sergio leaned against the SUV, reached over, and booped my nose. I tried to bite him, but he escaped my reach with a laugh. “Don’t worry about Ms. Donalds. My quad will handle the base investigative work with the Hayward police, and we’ll keep you in the loop on anything we find. Your detective gets to stay with you. We wouldn’t want to deprive you of your pet cop. It’s so rare you actually convince our boss you should have your very own pet cop.”
Detective Davis heaved a sigh. “Luke, please explain to me how I became a pet cop?”
“Olivia thinks you’re hot and wants to keep you around.”
I kicked Luke’s seat as hard as I could. “Luke,” I warned.
“What? It’s not my fault you curled around him like he was part of your treasure hoard. Not even Eddy curls around her hoard like you do. Anyway, be happy. You get to keep Ray around and Eddy won’t witness your humiliation. She’s in charge of collecting the family registry and bringing it to your father’s house. When a haunter takes over a death zone survivor and gives orders you’re to get the registry and the statuette, we listen. And that’s from the top. A haunter capable of taking you over like that might come back from the other side pissed as hell if we don’t do what she wants.”
While nobody knew for sure if a haunter could come back from the other side, nobody wanted to find out.
While I huffed over the situation, Isaac and Ethan slithered into the SUV, taking over the seats behind me. They grinned.
“Why are you two so damned happy?”
Ethan snickered and patted my shoulder. “We love your momma’s cooking.”
Detective Davis, Hunk of the Oakland police, sighed. “The haunter—”
“Elizabeth,” I corrected. “You only call them by type when you either want to piss them off or want to be rude. Just because she became an incorporeal doesn’t mean she’s not still Elizabeth. Well, mostly.”
“—asked me to keep an eye on you since she didn’t need me. She knows what killed her, and she doesn’t really care who. It doesn’t change anything for her.”
Ah. That must have grated against his nerves. I could understand. It had grated against mine the first time I’d run into a haunter lacking any interest in having closure. He’d wanted to go to the next life, and had practically danced in front of my photographer’s camera to get there.
He’d just wanted someone to remember him and make sure his body got a burial. He’d gotten one, and I’d dragged out all of my quads on duty without an active case to see him off.
Quentin had been a lonely man in life.
“She moved on, Detective Davis.” I wrinkled my nose. “I know what killed her. The statuette. It’s likely the thief’s fault, but the fish, which she named Hypnos, ultimately bears responsibility. It was going to kill the other victims, too. I’d call what she did less of a possession and more of using me as a base of operations. She linked me to where it was at so I could have a look at it—and at its victims. Fortunately for me, Hypnos behaved much like a fish, and fish don’t like ice.”
Luke scowled, his eyes narrowing. “Just how much magic did you use, Olivia Abrams?”
If he three named me, I’d be in real trouble. He’d go right to my daddy, and my daddy would have words with me, and once he finished having words with me, he’d send me to my childhood room, lock me in, and come up with elaborate ways to make me pay. He’d also recruit my boss for help in his efforts.
Lying wouldn’t do me any good, so I lifted my chin and braced for his wrath. “I’m tapped out. I couldn’t even help Detective Davis win a wet t-shirt contest right now.”
“Dangerously tapped?”
I matched his expression, wishing I could cross my arms to express my disdain over his question. “If I were dangerously tapped, I wouldn’t be awake right now and one of you poor bastards would be stuck giving me CPR. I’ll be fine, but I’m assigning myself to Daddy’s chair rest until tomorrow.”
Detective Davis bowed his head and sighed. “Is Commissioner Abrams really your father?”
“Since the day I was born, as my parents believe I was a demon while in my mother’s belly. I was fussy even before birth. In good news, I wanted to escape as badly as she wanted me out. I didn’t even let her leave the house before I showed up ready to turn their lives upside down.”
Luke snickered. “Don’t worry too much, Ray. He’ll only give you a hard time for not giving her the full arrest experience.”
He would, too. “Come on, Luke. Don’t tell him things like that. He’ll get ideas.”
I’d get ideas, too, and I definitely wasn’t supposed to be getting ideas about my co-lead. Oh, well. As my parents liked to say, I was utterly hopeless. I’d get a pass if I displayed any interest at all in anyone. My mother might not even care what gender or age considering how often I’d struck out in anything dealing with love and relationships.
Detective Davis’s brows furrowed. “What?”
“About what? My daddy getting ideas or you getting a hard time from my old man for not giving me the full arrest experience? Or you getting ideas?”
“All of the above.”
Luke snickered, and kicking the back of his seat didn’t deter him in the slightest. “It’s like this, Ray. He’s a cop. She’s in the FBI. They bicker. He thinks she should’ve been a cop. She vocally disagrees. We’ll have a great time watching them. She’s going to play an epic distressed damsel to worm her way onto her daddy’s armchair because she only gets it if she’s dying.”
The truth sucked. “It’s true. I’m shameless and I like his chair. Just keep quiet about Isaac. We do not discuss my donations. Last time I emergency donated and he found out about it, he got out his belt and spanked Isaac.”
“Most would call that assault,” the detective pointed out.
“We call it a part of being in the family,” Isaac said. “We might be FBI agents, but we’re her FBI agents, so we’re like a very odd extended family. And while I deserved a whipping for that one, I’d like to avoid another one,” the drainer added. Then he patted my head. “You forgot to tell Ray you ended up in the ICU that time. That makes a difference. That incident was nothing like yesterday’s.”
It wasn’t. “I wasn’t bothered by it then, and I’m not bothered by it now. I needed the time off work.”
“Could you not spend your time off work flirting with death?” Ethan complained. “It gives me indigestion.”
Detective Davis pointed at the house. “Shouldn’t one of us stay at the scene?”
“No, not with Olivia fresh from a possession,” Sergio said, and he joined in on the action to give me comforting pats on the head. “My team is here, and I’m going to get whoever is saddled with being Olivia’s liaison set up before driving us all to her father’s place. It’ll take ten minutes, we won’t miss anything, and we can focus on making sure there aren’t any complications. A possession involving a strong supernatural is taken seriously. Quads have rules about the vic—and none of your whining over the label, Olivia—after they’re taken away from the scene. Because of her rank, I have to accompany, as I’m the closest thing we have to someone capable of taking her out non-lethally. Once we get her to her father’s place, an FBI doc will do an evaluation.”
To help make sure Detective Davis wasn’t too dismayed over it, I gave my handcuffs a good rattle. “It’s the rules, Detective Davis. These are able to block possessions, and they can eject most haunters. I’ll be fine, they’ll fuss because that’s what they do, and I’ll get chair time. As far as I’m concerned, my day is turning around.”
“Raymond.”
I grinned and winked at him. “I guess Detective Hunk is off the table?”
He arched a brow. “Did you damage something in your head?”
“It’s not my fault you keep forgetting to swing by the donut shop on your way to the
gym.” I kicked Luke’s seat again. “Make Sergio get this clown car on the road. I scraped my ass to hell falling down a hill. Where’s Jamie? I bet he could fix my scraped ass.”
“That’s part of why we haven’t left yet. We’re waiting for him. He’s having a chat with the EMT to get a kit in case we need one for the road. The Hayward cops are even going to be nice and take my SUV and Ray’s car back to Oakland for us.”
“Ethan, remind me to send a box of donuts and decent coffee their way tomorrow.”
“You got it, boss.”
“Do I really have to be cuffed to Luke’s seat? Just cuffing me is sufficient, you know.”
“Yes,” everyone in the vehicle chorused.
I gave up and let them have their fun. In a day or two, revenge would be a cold and wet affair, and I’d enjoy every moment of it.
Within ten minutes of leaving the estate, I wanted to brutally murder everyone in the SUV. Detective Raymond Davis deserved a fate far worse than death. The bastard had a shameless crush on my father and wanted to hear every scandalous story about him possible.
Sergio wouldn’t stop laughing at me, and to make it clear he loved my suffering, he said, “Luke, you should tell Ray about the time those three ex-convicts tried to kill him after they got out of prison.”
“No, Luke shouldn’t.” That incident made the rounds, and my lack of clothing following my violent resolution of the incident had led to some asshole trying to get a swimsuit calendar of the FBI’s women with me on the cover. Unfortunately for me, the assholes had recruited help, the calendar existed, and the only reason I’d participated was due to charity receiving the rewards of my suffering and pain.
The jerk photographer had even caught me playing with my magic when I hadn’t been paying attention, as I had no ability to purposefully model for photographs.
“Don’t listen to her, Luke,” Sergio ordered. “She’s just bitter because people wanted to take pictures of her after that.”
“I got in trouble with my parents for that stunt, thank you.”
“Fortunately for Olivia, I’ve already heard about that story,” Detective Davis announced.
He really, really needed to stop saying my name. He said my name, and I wanted to make everyone else shut up so I could listen to him. I had no one to blame but myself for my reaction.
After Dad’s example, I viewed single cops as eligible men, and eligible men like the detective didn’t come around every day.
I needed to figure out who the shadow was, eliminate him with extreme prejudice, and see just what sort of man Detective Davis really was.
“How about some stories when he was still just a chief? There are some good ones from there,” Ethan pitched in from behind me.
“How about not?”
I wasn’t worried about anyone deliberately mentioning when I’d come back fresh from New York and had caused problems for myself and everyone else. Dad had participated in daily wet t-shirt contests while I flopped around like a fish out of water trying to figure out how to control my magic.
He still couldn’t get affordable flood insurance, although his premiums had gone down after five years of no daughter-created incidents.
“How about the time Olivia got nabbed outside of the FBI resident agency?” Jamie asked, reaching between the seats to poke me in the ribs. “You should’ve seen her daddy when word got down the line about that.”
“No, no, no. We never discuss that incident.”
Ethan snickered. “She got blindsided by a drainer, and not the fun kind. He stunned her with a bite and pulled her into his car. That gave him the time needed to cart her off, but as Olivia is a card carrying member of the self-rescuing princess society, she excused herself from her unexpected date with a drainer with only minor blood loss and a big case of cranky.”
Isaac grunted. “That’s part of why I was transferred to her team. She requested a few drainers in her quads so she could build a resistance. She really didn’t like being used as a chew toy. She’s tough, but if you value your eyes, don’t go looking for the scars. She gets pissy when people stare at her throat looking for the scars.”
I glared at the handcuffs keeping me from turning around and gagging Isaac. “There’s a reason for that! And the scars are gone now, thank you very much.”
“Are there any stories that won’t make the cranky woman even crankier?” The detective glanced at me, and he dared to smirk.
Luke took the bait and regaled him with tales of my father both before and after becoming the police commissioner responsible for San Francisco and the surrounding areas. To add to the chaos, when he went through a few short stories that didn’t involve me, he dipped into my childhood.
I could’ve lived without him learning I’d been a favorite target of kidnappers. Not much had changed.
I’d just gotten a lot better at telling people I wasn’t interested in being transported against my will. Mostly.
Glaring at the handcuffs didn’t make them go away.
Fortunately for my pride, we arrived at my father’s house, and Sergio parked behind my father’s truck. “If you’d like to leave, Raymond, just ask.”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” The detective unbuckled his seatbelt and stretched. I didn’t even bother to hide my admiration of his person, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.
Someone had lied to me about his shyness ratings—or he had absolutely no fear of me.
Either served my needs well.
Then the detective smirked. “Hey, Sergio. Does that zap—”
“I will kill you if you zap me again, Sergio,” I announced.
“I wouldn’t, Olivia. Don’t worry. As a general rule, it’s one zap per day. Otherwise, it becomes potentially dangerous, and she’s had a rough enough few days. Now, that said, if you want to secure her spot on Commissioner Abrams’s chair, carry her inside while she plays dead.”
My dignity and pride couldn’t handle it, even accounting for who was carrying me and why. “I’ll walk, thank you. I can whine my way onto his chair without help.”
My quad snickered and scrambled out of the SUV. My father came out of his two-story house wearing a suit and adjusting his tie. “How is she?”
Luke led the charge with a smile, replying, “She’s tapped dry and cuffed but looks clear. Minor abrasions from sliding down a hill. Jamie can take care of those later.”
“Hi, Dad!” I tried to wave, which didn’t work well while handcuffed to the seat. “Can I be uncuffed now? I need some time with your chair. It’s been a bad day.”
“So it seems. Did you forget you’re not supposed to bring your work home with you? You’re also not supposed to kidnap one of my cops.”
“He’s my new live-in breakfast maker,” I announced.
My father crossed his arms, lifted his chin, and stared down his nose at me. When I’d been five, the pose had been rather effective. Nowadays, it encouraged me to yank on his chain as hard as possible. “He’s not paid nearly enough for that. Why do you have one of my cops?”
Ha. My boss hadn’t filed his notices yet. I’d have to thank him for that later. “He’s my co-lead on the Oakland City Center case. Detective Hunk is mine.”
“He’s definitely not paid enough to put up with that. What’s your name, Detective?”
“Raymond Davis of Oakland, sir.”
“I’ve heard of you. You’re specialized in theft investigations, and from all accounts, a rather talented up-and-comer.”
Great. The detective would be over the moon for the rest of the day. “I need chair time, Dad. I need chair time, and I need it now.” To make it clear I meant business, I rattled the cuffs and scowled. “If I don’t get chair time today, I’m going to do everything in my power to top my temper tantrum when I was five.”
Of the threats in my arsenal, my childhood temper tantrum ranked fairly high; I didn’t remember the incident, but my parents loved reminding me of how I’d been such a devil I’d gotten a five year ban from a grocery stor
e as a result.
“You don’t look like you’re dying, and as I know full well you’re capable of breaking out of those cuffs when you’re in good form, you’re not fit to top that tantrum even if you tried. Stop whining and go see your mother. She’s in the kitchen.” My father held out his hand to Luke. “Cuff keys, please.”
One day, I would come out on top when warring against my old man, and when I did, I was never going to let him live it down. While I scowled and schemed how I might finally win against my father, Luke handed over the keys so my father could unlock the cuffs. I rubbed my wrists. “Why are you being so nice to my pet cop?”
“You’re a pain in my ass. That’s why. You’re also an FBI agent rather than a cop. Do I need any other reason? The kitchen, Olivia.”
Damn it. I unbuckled my seatbelt and slid out of the SUV. The next thing I knew, I was sprawled over Luke and trying to pinpoint where I’d lost a few critical moments.
My quad leader sighed. “Boss, next time, just let the cop carry you like a princess. I should’ve let you smack your head into the ground for that.”
“Sergio broke my legs,” I complained. “They were supposed to work. You’re a jerk, Sergio.”
My fellow quad supervisor crouched beside me and flicked my forehead. “It’s not my fault you burned yourself out. I just helped you along a little. You would’ve been hitting the ground without my help. You can’t blame me. I barely touched you and your eyes rolled back. I’m just glad you didn’t hit your head on anything on the way down. Of course, I helped to make certain you didn’t hit your head on anything.”
“Thanks for that. I can crawl to the kitchen from here.” Maybe. I eyed the sidewalk and calculated my chances of making it the entire way. After careful consideration, I determined my father’s chair would make an excellent rest stop.
“You’re about to say or do something even stupider than suggesting you can crawl to the kitchen when you can’t even stand up,” my father announced, nudging me with his toe. “You were born stubborn.”
“Not even a nuke dropped on my head can take out my stubborn ass,” I replied. As always when I mentioned New York, my father scowled and grunted.