by R. J. Blain
Chief Kirkland lifted his beer glass in salute. “Just return him in the same condition. Ray, try to keep her out of trouble.”
“I’m going to need a raise if you want me to do that, sir.”
Damn. Even Raymond had gotten bit by the smartass bug. I blamed my parents. They brought out the best—and worst—in people. “He’s probably right. And a dog, Chief Kirkland. A cop dog. A proper cop dog.”
The chief chuckled. “I see you’ve joined forces.”
“I like dogs, and you can’t just send a damned pure out on his own without a partner. The police pups are good partners. Get a solid empath helping with the training, and Detective Hunk here won’t need a human partner.”
“I’ve got a dog. Her partner was killed in the line of duty, and the pooch is in rehab right now, but she should recover enough to return to work, although we were thinking about retiring her. She wasn’t shot, but she was close to her handler. I’ll do an evaluation and see how you take to her and she takes to you. She’s a work dog, Raymond, so she’ll need a lot of attention and care. She’s a good worker, but she has issues right now.”
“Poor reactions to gunfire?”
“No, not that. It wasn’t a gun that got her partner. It was an incendiary. He was part of the bomb squad, and they missed a bomb; it used a new type of explosive that none of our dogs were trained to detect. She’s the first to know the scent, so you might be borrowed for the bomb squad on cases we think this new explosive might be used. You’ll be kept out of the line of fire, but your dog could be invaluable.”
“I can work with that. Olivia should get a dog, too.” Raymond arched a brow and engaged me in the kind of stare-down I expected from my father. “You can’t have a quad with you all the time.”
Cops. I needed to start taking offense to his tendency to forget to get his share of the donuts on the way to the gym. “Would you like a taste of my self-defense abilities, Raymond?”
“No, he doesn’t,” everyone at the table chorused, with the exception of my pet cop, who challenged me with an arched brow.
Donners cleared his throat, his way of saying he was taking control of the discussion and would resent any interruptions. My mother chose that moment to stomp all over his claims with the presentation of my crispy, steamy duck of deliciousness, which she placed on the center of the table. “Duck!”
“You’re not five anymore, Olivia. Behave yourself,” my mother ordered.
I abandoned playing with my chopsticks for the carving knife. “I love you, Mom.”
“You love duck,” she corrected. “I’m concerned for Esmerelda and Dumbass.”
“They’re not for eating. They’re for loving.”
My mother shot my father a glare. “I hope you’re happy with yourself. You’ve created a monster. If she starts refusing to eat duck, we will have words.”
“I’m still waiting for her to become a cop. My plans to turn her into a proper monster aren’t complete unless she becomes a cop,” Dad replied.
My mother sighed. “Married to a cop might happen, but I think the become a cop ship has sailed.”
Everyone stared at the only single cop in the room while I went to work carving the duck. As I wasn’t a true barbarian, I offered the first piece to Chief Kirkland for having to put up with my parents hunting his cop. “Duck?”
“Please,” he replied, holding out his plate. “I don’t care what you do with Davis, just make sure he’s fit for work when you’re finished with him.”
I gave him an extra piece for that. “I see I have your approval.”
“He’s hopeless. It’s refreshing that he’s not tripping over his own feet around you.”
“I think everyone is exaggerating on that score. Duck, Chief Brewer?”
“I’m not above begging if necessary,” Berkeley’s Chief of Police replied.
It was a good thing my mother had made two; I managed to give everyone but me duck before the carcass had nothing left to give. To establish dominance over me, my mother brought out the rest of the feast before bringing out the second duck.
I fell on the bird like a starved beast.
My mother slapped my hand. “You can’t eat the entire duck, Olivia.”
“I’m certainly going to try.”
My father shook his head. “If you want to brief us without Olivia fussing, now’s the time, Alex.” To make it clear I had a lot of eating to do without contributing to the conversation, he scooped vegetables and egg rolls onto my plate. “I don’t care if you eat the whole duck, but you have to eat that and a bowl of your mother’s soup, too.”
Some things never changed. I wrinkled my nose but obeyed, as some fights weren’t worth having.
Donners wisely took advantage of my father’s offer, saying, “Dimitri Damascus Euthal, born John K. Smith—”
I choked on an egg roll. “Seriously?”
Donners sighed. “Yes. He changed his name at eighteen. He’s a fringe survivor from Seattle.”
“Everyone’s a fringe survivor if they’re from Seattle,” I muttered. “The fuckers missed.”
“He’s more fringe than most. When he didn’t develop the powers he wanted, he took a trip to every defunct reactor he could. We speculate he became a warlock due to so much exposure to different radiation types. He’s even done the vat experiment.”
Huh. I wondered where he’d gotten enough concentrated radioactive waste to pull off that stunt. The last thing I needed was to bathe in radioactive material hoping for additional powers. I had too much as it was. “I’m not sure if I should be disgusted or impressed.”
“Go with a mix of both. Euthal’s versatile, but he lacks power. What I don’t know is if this statuette will give him the power he wants. He’s not the type to hold hostages. However, if he can take hundreds or even thousands hostages easily, he will—if he thinks he can get something he wants out of the deal.”
Too many questions rattled about in my head. How would the warlock steal power from the fish? If, of course, the fish had been removed from the statuette. “If I asked for his rap sheet, how long would it take for you to give us the basics?”
“His current count of felonies is over five hundred, and that’s not including counts of the same charge.”
I whistled. “I have a duck to eat, so give us a recap of his most notorious crimes.”
“I should have known the secret was to feed you,” Donners muttered. “The important cases all involve nuclear radiation. Interestingly, he made one trip to Australia, but he backed out before making landfall. Something spooked him.”
The millions of people killed and left to haunt the irradiated continent likely had something to do with that. Travel to the continent was barred, but people tried their luck each and every year. Most, like Euthal, chickened out. The rest either died or went insane.
Few who returned regained their sanity, living out their remaining days in an institution.
Sometimes, I considered heading to Australia to offer the restless dead a chance at peace. I’d do it when I had nothing left to lose. I’d endured New York. I doubted I’d survive through so many dead passing through me a second time.
Some wanted to die old and in their beds.
I wanted to die old and doing something meaningful.
Raymond picked up the meat tongs and clacked them, smirking and eyeing my duck. “Your duck is amazing, Mrs. Abrams.”
I snatched the egg roll tongs and batted Detective Hunk’s in defense of my duck. “This duck is mine.”
With his smirk widening to a grin, he sparred tongs with me, doing his best to steal my dinner.
“I have no idea what’s gotten into Ray,” Luke announced, “but I like it.”
“This duck is worth fighting for,” my pet cop replied.
“If you agree to marry my daughter, I will teach you every one of our family recipes.” My mother smiled her sweetest smile. “It’s a good deal. She even comes with a nice house.”
“Mother!”
&nbs
p; The damned cop stole some of my duck and put it on his plate, and to make it clear he’d won the battle, he looked me in the eyes and asked, “Duck, Olivia?”
As my mother would murder me if I didn’t mind my manners, I mumbled a thanks. Then, since thieving my duck wasn’t bad enough, he relieved me of the egg roll tongs and gave me a few of those for good measure.
Ethan snickered. “Wow, Ray. When did you grow a backbone?”
“I’ve always had a backbone.”
“Not with women, and especially not with women like Olivia. She could eat you for dinner, yet there you are, taunting her with food.”
I fought my urge to join in the general laughter. “He’s been fine.” Mostly. I smirked at the memory of what my legs had done to him. “He might not stay fine if he steals more of my duck.”
Luke’s grin promised trouble, and his expression turned rather evil. “Marriage to her would be a small price to pay for those recipes. The woman’s not a bad catch, either. That said, you’ll probably have to arrest her for over-working.”
My mother joined in, saying, “She might forgive you if you cook a duck just for her tomorrow.”
I sighed, dished out another serving of duck, and asked, “Seconds, anyone?”
In less than five minutes, the rest of my duck vanished, devoured by the hungry hordes determined to prevent me from indulging in an act of gluttony.
Raymond nibbled on his piece of duck, and he turned his challenging stare onto my mother. “Would you accept an agreement to consider marriage? This duck might be worth it.”
“This should classify as cruel and unusual punishment,” I grumbled.
My mother grinned. “You’d die single without help, and your pet cop is pretty cute.”
“Okay, okay. Get it out of your system. How about you, Dad?”
“A few grandkids who might become cops would be nice. Thank you for asking.”
As Donners would just love to get in on the action, I asked, “And how about you?”
“A stable relationship with someone outside of your family and quads would be beneficial for you, but I’d hate to have to set a cop straight if he treated you poorly.”
I rolled my eyes. “How about you, Detective Hunk?”
“I have a crazy ex, she shows up several times a year, and she’s why I freak out around most women.” He paused, and then he shrugged. “You’re about as different from her as physically, emotionally, and mentally possible.”
Ah. Mystery solved. I’d somehow been slated as safe territory—safe territory with killer legs. “And your reaction to this is to be awkward?”
“I can’t tell if they’ll be crazy, too, so I get flustered. You’re not that kind of crazy, Bubbles.”
Bubbles? I laughed. “What kind of crazy is she?”
The ‘shove her boyfriend down a flight of stairs for telling her no’ kind of crazy.”
Ouch. “I’m definitely not that type of crazy.”
“I figured that out fairly quickly.”
Poor guy. “I’m just warning you that men run away from me because I have a list of basic requirements. I also miss dates because of work, and generally, I’m a terrible human being when it comes to playing nice with others.”
“All right. I’m curious. What are your basic requirements?”
My mother and father exchanged glances before watching me with matching looks of disbelief and curiosity.
“Single,” I said.
“Check.”
“A stable job with advancement opportunities. I don’t care how much is earned, but I need someone who has a general willingness to improve.”
Chief Kirkland laughed. “Check.”
“You pass the decent reputation check. Luke, for reasons I can’t fathom, likes you.”
“He likes me because I’ll buy him a beer after a bad day.”
“Are you qualified to cook my momma’s duck recipe?”
“I’m legitimately capable of cooking complicated dishes. I can probably handle a duck.”
I frowned. “All right. What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m a stubborn American pure.”
“Is that a downside or a sales pitch?”
“I like leaving my woman guessing a little to keep her on her toes. I only date one person at a time. I have enough trouble with one relationship. I expect the person I’m dating to date only me. I’m the jealous kind. I also work a lot of hours.”
I snorted at that. “I’m bad at showing up for dates because I forget. I’m usually working.”
“That’s fair. Should we have an agreed upon arrangement, I will show up and arrest you unless Luke verifies you’re dealing with an actual emergency.”
“Hey! Don’t drag me into this.”
Raymond grinned. “I’m dragging you into this because you’re the only sane person I know in the quads who’ll give me a straight answer if she’s actually dealing with an emergency. Eddy will lie and say she’s not just so I go in and arrest Olivia. The rest of your quad will try to defuse any actual emergencies because they’re tired of having to fetch her out of her office and make her go home. I’ve spoken to her boss once, and everything is an emergency to him. I haven’t had any opportunities to work with her other quads.”
“Fine. I’ll let you know if she’s handling an actual emergency.”
Raymond chuckled. “Anything else?”
“I need to buy a car. How do you feel about shopping?”
“I do it only when necessary.”
“I ask again: what’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I’m American perfection.”
Right. I shook my head and choked back a laugh. “If you say so.”
“Well, I suppose this might count. I view marriage as a tax break with other benefits. I dislike messy divorces, so I refuse to engage in any sort of permanent relationship without a fair prenup.”
“Fair. I dislike divorce in general.”
I’d seen a few too many cases of people who’d just been too damned lazy to make a relationship work snap, go off the magical deep end, and become another bad case in my filing cabinet.
“That’s reasonable. Sharing living space for a period of five years before considering marriage is my speed. If we aren’t ready to kill each other after six months of co-habitation, I tend to view this as a good sign.”
“I burn water,” I announced.
“Please never try to cook in any kitchen I use frequently.”
I shrugged. “That sounds fair.”
Luke sighed. “You two disgust me. Why can’t you date like normal people?”
We stared at him, and in unison, we asked, “Who has time for that?”
While Donners told us about Euthal’s efforts to transform himself into a supernatural powerhouse, I gorged on my mother’s cooking. I ate every last scrap of food at the table, and I whined when there wasn’t anything left.
“Where’s your new house, boss?” Luke asked. “We’re obviously at the put you to bed stage of the day. We can’t do any more real work right now. Give me your apartment key. I’ll take Donners over, we’ll populate the digital board with new information, and we’ll bring it over.”
“I’ll go with you,” Dad announced. “Eddy, keep an eye on Olivia.”
The dragoness saluted. “I’ll take them to the grocery store. She’ll need more. She’s got a lot of burned energy to recover, and after the few days she’s had, that barely counted as a snack.”
“That’s a lot of food.” Raymond nudged me with his elbow. “How much will I need to cook for you?”
“A lot.” I groaned and stared at the duck bones littering my plate. “I could use a steak. Dad makes good steaks.”
“I do. After I help them bring the digital board over, I’ll fire up the grill at your place and feed you again, but you need to properly walk Alex through the Oakland City Center case.”
“Deal. Don’t you damage my board, old man.”
“I’ll be careful with it. Detective Davis
, poke her if she tries to take a nap. She’ll be hard to get up if she goes to sleep now.”
Donners patted my head and chuckled, just as he’d done so many years ago. “It’s an issue with strong elementalists. They can run siphoning off power from their element, but when they return to acting like a regular human, they need to replenish everything. They have heightened metabolisms during a gorge.”
“Don’t you laugh at my misfortune.”
“Eddy, get her on the move before she goes to sleep,” my father ordered.
She grabbed my ear and pulled until I scrambled out of my chair. “Hey!”
“Detective Hunk, with us. Mrs. Abrams, can we follow you?”
“Of course. I’ll even make another duck if we can find one.”
I jerked free of Eddy’s hold and bolted for the front door, slowing long enough to grab my purse on the way.
My mother took over my new kitchen, my father set up the digital board in my new, spacious office, which had enough room for everyone. There weren’t enough chairs, but we improvised. I sat on my desk, Eddy sat at my feet, and everyone else either claimed a seat, stood, or lounged on the hardwood floor.
I laid out the Oakland City Center event from beginning to end, how I’d gotten involved, and everything leading up to my showdown with Hypnos in the dark, endless sea. Against my better judgment, I delved into the last moments of Elizabeth Donalds’s life. I waited for Donners’s verdict, every muscle in my body tensing.
“What’s the first rule of haunters I taught you, Olivia?”
“Don’t piss them off,” I dutifully replied.
“It seems like you did your best to keep from pissing her off. You’re a water elementalist from New York. If they found peace in the water, it’s not like you sought that power. You’d be a terrible memento mori photographer. You’d run out of patience with the departed too easily. No, you’re fine. It’s not like you usually have run-ins with haunters on this level, correct?”