Mark Del Franco - Unfallen Dead

Keeva withdrew another stone from a different pocket and looked at it reflectively as she rolled it around in the palm of her hand. “Do you recognize this stone?”

Powell affected boredom.

“It’s an interesting story how I came into possession of this particular stone,” said Keeva. “A long time ago, I had a small case that turned into something much bigger. A con artist was implicated in a murder in New York. I handled the extradition, packed up the evidence we had collected, and sent it to the Guildhouse down there. Things didn’t work out as planned, though, and the murderer ended up dead before trial. Months later, the unopened evidence was returned to me. I sent everything to the archives but kept this stone in my office as a reminder that I should be more vigilant in the future.”

Keeva lifted her gaze to Powell. “It occurred to me recently that it could be a soul stone. Why else would Liddell Viten risk going down to the archives instead of escaping? But, you know what, Powell? I agree with you. The idea is absurd.”

Keeva’s hand glowed white with essence. She clenched her fist, and the stone crumbled. Powell blanched, clutching her chest in panic. Keeva brushed dust from her hands as Powell regained her composure. Keeva took yet another stone out of her pocket. “What an interesting reaction, Powell. That stone was a fake. Lady Ardman told me that you asked her for your soul stone, and you didn’t believe her when she said she gave it to the Guild. Lady Ardman identified it for me. This one’s yours, Powell, the very one you tried to steal out of the archives a couple of weeks ago and were sorely disappointed to find missing.”

Powell finally showed a break in her demeanor. She struggled to remain unimpressed, but real fear crept into her eyes. Keeva placed a hand on the obelisk nearest her and shot a bolt of essence into it. The essence barrier collapsed. She stepped up to Powell. “I’m no fan of Meryl Dian, but I know a setup when I see one. Where are the artifacts you stole from the museum?”

“I told you I didn’t…” Powell didn’t get to finish. Keeva’s essence pulsed to life, her wings flaring huge and white. With one hand, she grabbed Powell by the throat, lifted her from the chair, and thrust her against the back wall.

Dylan moved forward. “Director macNeve…” he said.

I grabbed his arm, and he stopped. I had never seen her lose her control when she was angry. Her methods could be aggressive sometimes, but she never crossed the line too far. Besides, I liked the look of terror in Powell’s face. She was getting a taste of what her victims must have felt.

Keeva’s eyes blazed white-hot as she leaned in toward Powell’s terrified face. “Listen to me, Powell. You’re legally dead. Know what that means? If I kill you, there’s no crime. If you don’t start answering questions, I’ll keep killing you until I get them.”

Powell’s eyes bulged as she clutched at the hand at her throat. Keeva let out a burst of essence that made the druidess convulse. Powell dropped to the floor. “Start talking,” Keeva said.

Tears poured down Powell’s face as she coughed. “I demand an advocate,” she said.

Keeva tangled her fingers in Powell’s hair. Dylan pulled away from me with enough force to send the message he wasn’t going to be stopped this time. “Enough,” he said.

Keeva ignored him. She yanked Powell’s head up. “I’ll see if we have to allow an advocate in for a dead person. In the meantime, think about your soul stone.”

She released Powell’s hair, turned on her heel, and tossed the ward stone to Dylan. He caught it one-handed.

“You’re welcome,” she said to him as she walked out.

“I demand the return of my soul stone,” Powell said.

Dylan reactivated the protection barrier around Powell. “You’re not in a position to demand anything.”

She stared for so long, I could almost see her evaluating her options. “I have information to trade that the Guild will want to know.”

Dylan held the soul stone between his thumb and index finger. Its pale blue surface had an intricate series of depressions that looked like ripples in the sand on a beach. “So talk,” he said.

“I want a promise in writing to turn over the stone before I will say anything,” she said.

Dylan shrugged. “I’ll need more than that before I agree, assuming I do. Make it worth it.”

Powell adjusted her clothing and resumed her seat. “A terrorist attack on the Seelie Court is imminent. Is that enough for you?”

Dylan twitched a small smile at me. “I already know that. I also know the sun rises every day, the sky is blue, and you’re not telling me anything. The Seelie Court is under constant threat of attack.”

Powell kept her expression calm, but she couldn’t hide her annoyance. “Bergin Vize is going to launch an assault against High Queen Maeve.”

Dylan moved toward the door. “Bergin Vize, Powell? Are you sure? Next you’ll be telling me the Elven King hates Maeve and fairies have wings. You don’t have anything to trade.”

He gestured for Murdock and me to leave.

“He’s found a way into TirNaNog,” Powell said.

Dylan opened the door. “And now we move into fantasy.”

Powell jumped to her feet. “You have less than hours before it happens. Give me the stone, and I will give you the names of all the Boston operatives I know that you didn’t arrest when the pimp was attacked.”

Dylan paused. “Now that’s out of left field. Why should I care about them?”

Powell let a little confidence slide into her posture when she saw Dylan’s hesitation. “Because they’re part of it. Get me that signed promise. Now. And I will tell you what you need to know.”

“How do you know this?” he asked.

She smiled. “You will get what I know in exchange for the written guarantee and the stone. How I know the information will be a point of discussion if you bring charges against me.”

Smooth and confident. She was already negotiating the next phase before we had even agreed to the first. If Viten was her mentor, lovelorn widows didn’t have a chance against him. Dylan appeared to consider what she said. He left the room without another word, and we followed.

Keeva was nowhere in sight outside the holding cell. If I had to guess, she was talking to the legal department about a hypothetical situation of an officially dead person’s rights. The legal guys would smile, not ask real questions, and try to come up with a convoluted strategy to justify what Keeva wanted. Hypothetically, of course. I would win a bet that Rhonda Powell was not officially in the building. Yet. I knew how it worked. I had played that game myself when I was an agent. It didn’t occur to me at the time that it was a bit fascist. I guess it never does when you’re in charge of it.

Dylan raked his hand through his hair. “She’s good. And she does know something. She connected the attack on the pimp with Vize’s operatives. That’s not public knowledge.”

Murdock stared at him. “What about the murder charges?”

Dylan shrugged. “One thing at a time, Detective.”

Murdock breathed out sharply through his nose. “If you have time, right? After the Guild takes care of its robbery and extortion charges, and some story about a terrorist attack, then maybe you’ll look at making her accountable for non-fey murders.”

Dylan threw me an irritated look. Like I was responsible for Murdock’s annoyance and not the Guild status quo. “Some people would at least be satisfied that she’s in custody,” he said.

Murdock shook his head. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard that one. I’m not some people. Some people would consider that two humans wouldn’t be dead today if the Guild had focused first on Viten’s fraud charges against a human woman ten years ago instead of his fey murder charges in New York. I’ll send our files over. Nice working with you.”