Vicki Pettersson - The Taken

Grif snuffed his Lucky out in a crystal ashtray, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Well, like you said. You get used to things and pretty soon forget you ever knew any different.”

Tony looked angry at that. “Yeah, and you made me remember. I thought I’d been safe all these years, but really? I wasn’t any more alive than you. So, yeah, I went to Chambers. The old family might own me, but he owns them. He owns everyone.”

“And you thought that if you turned me and Kit over to Chambers, he’d call the soldiers off you once and for all.”

“It was stupid. It was wrong,” Tony admitted, before pointing a bony finger at Grif. “But you drank my most expensive bottle of wine!”

“Oh, stop. You ratted me out before that. Besides, technically, I shared the juice with a Pure.”

Tony’s nose scrunched. “A what?”

“You’ll see,” Grif muttered, turning to Jesse. “How’s Sarge?”

Jesse, who’d been listening to the conversation as closely as Courtney had been pretending to ignore it, snapped to, and regarded Grif with a smirk. “How you think, homes? He’s pissed and calling for your head.”

Grif looked at Courtney, who just nodded.

Jesse stepped forward, grabbing Tony beneath one scrawny arm as he began to wobble due to the fade. “You should just come back with us, G-Man. Everyone knows your old lady is floating around the Everlast somewhere. And you got eternity to run into her, right? You’ll find her eventually.”

Grif jerked his head. “I’m not here for Evie anymore.”

Surprised silence filled the room. Even the dead Dobermans looked up at Grif with quizzical expressions.

“What, the other betty?” Courtney scoffed. “She’ll be along soon enough, too.”

“Courtney!” Jesse yelled.

“What?” She spread her hands wide. “So what? It’s Grif!”

“He’s wearing flesh!” Jesse said it like it was a disease.

And Courtney, realizing her mistake, covered her mouth with her palm. “Shit.”

He had free will while wearing flesh. He could change things on the Surface. Grif’s gaze darted from her to Jesse and back again. “Your next Take… is Kit?”

Jesse and Courtney just stared.

“Man, I’m sorry to hear that,” Tony said, with a frown. “I really only meant for them to whack you.”

“Shut up, Tony.”

“Oh come on,” Jesse finally said. “It’s not like it’s any real surprise. You can’t change fate, Grif. She’s destined to die.”

But he’d changed it once before. “Where is she?”

Jesse crossed his arms. “Like we’re going to tell you? And get Anas all up in our asses? No way.”

“Who’s Anas?” Tony asked. “Is she cute? Better tell her to watch out. I’m feeling frisky.”

“What are you doing?” Jesse asked, following Grif as he stalked from the room.

“Don’t you have a soul to deliver to the Everlast?” Ignoring the semitransparent dog trying to nudge him into patting its head, Grif picked up the phone and dialed the number he’d memorized the day before.

“Fine.” The other Centurion gestured to Tony, but he was busy trying to pick up his wineglass. Sighing, Jesse finally crossed the room and grabbed the old man’s arm.

“Hey!” Tony said, trying to pull away, but Jesse just ignored him.

Halting directly in front of Grif, Jesse raised his brows. “Just so you know, Sarge plans on sending you straight to the Tube the moment you step foot in the Everlast.”

“Then I’d better work fast,” Grif said, but cursed as his call went to voice mail. Hanging up, he tried again.

“You coming, Court?” Jesse asked, flanked by two dogs and a dead mobster.

Courtney kicked her heels up on the coffee table, causing Tony to scowl. She ignored him. “Nah, this is the most interesting thing to happen since Paulo tried to start a soccer league in the Milky Way. I’ll be there by morning.”

“Not if I can help it,” Grif told her.

“But you can’t, Grif.”

This time they all turned, and listened, to Tony. He shook his head, the old mobster gleam back in his dark, watery eyes. “Chambers runs this town from end to end. He makes the rules, and takes what he wants. Just like the family did back in our day.”

“Uh-uh,” Jesse said, clamping a hand over Tony’s mouth. “You can’t talk about his old life. Sorry, Grif. Sarge’s orders.”

“Shut up, Jesse,” Grif snapped back.

“Well,” said Tony, “I wish you luck, anyway. That Craig girl is a real peach.” Then he shrugged. “For a nosy, relentless ink-hound, that is. I liked her.”

But Grif loved her. He knew that now. So he gritted his teeth, and dialed Bridget Moore’s number once more.

You’re going the wrong way,” said Grif’s backseat driver.

“No, I’m not,” he told Courtney, as he squinted up at the street sign, blew past a yellow-ish light, and steered through a section of downtown that looked better at night than on any given day.

Courtney huffed and slapped a combat boot up on the dash. “The map is upside-down, loo-sah.”

“Watch your mouth, sweetheart.” And he slapped her leg back down. Kit would keel over dead if there were boot prints on her dashboard.

“Don’t call me that,” Courtney muttered, staring out the side window. Black hair fringed her face in spikes so all that was visible of her face was one pert pale little nose.

“No one else will,” Grif muttered, hesitating before adding, “ ’cept maybe… Jesse?”

“What? Shut up!” Courtney straightened so fast she would have hit her head on the roof, if it were possible for a Centurion.

“Relax, doll.” Grif hid a smile that hid his nerves. “I don’t care about your little postmortem crush. Got it?”

Courtney regained her slump and crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t care about your Surface-skimming crush getting offed. How ’bout that?”

“Feel free to leave.” He motioned to her door.

Courtney smirked. “Feel free to take a right at the next corner.”

Grif cursed under his breath, but swung a quick right. His jaw clenched when the street he’d been looking for swam into view, but Courtney-probably sensing he was close to his edge-stayed silent. After another few blocks, she glanced over. “So why won’t this Bridget girl tell you where Kit is?”

“I don’t think she knows.”

Bridget had sounded genuinely sorry when Grif finally had gotten hold of her, and explained quickly that Kit was missing. But she’d also sounded scared. He could almost hear her mind ticking, making contingency plans for her own safety. Yet after their conversation in the bar, he was sure she’d have told him if Kit was in danger. If she knew, that was.

“And you really think this is going to work?” Courtney said dubiously as they wheeled into a dirt lot next to a high brick wall.

Grif threw Kit’s car into park, and shot her a hard look. “I got no other way of keeping death from touching this woman.”

Another woman he loved. Dead because of him.

With that thought Grif clambered out of the car, onto its hood, and jumped the wall leading into the Rose Lawn Memorial Cemetery. Courtney, who merely passed directly through the brick, smirked at him from the other side.

“Find me the fresh ones, Fido,” Grif ordered, and took some satisfaction at watching her smile fall.

Yet she slipped easily through the plots, navigating the pitch-black night without a misstep. Grif might have some remaining powers from the Everlast, and Anne had certainly shot him up with a mouthful of something, but it was nothing compared to Courtney’s full Centurion senses. She stopped once to crack a joke-pointing at a headstone and exclaiming, “Oh, hey! I know him!”-but a pointed stare from Grif had her continuing on until they reached an obviously fresh grave.