Брайан Макклеллан - Blood Tally

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Alek Fitz is the lead reaper for Valkyrie Collections, an agency that gathers debts for the paranormal elements of the world. Bound into modern-day slavery by a contract he cannot break, sold by parents he never knew, Alek works alongside demons, spirits, witches, and even Death himself to collect on deals made with humanity.
When Alek is forced to take a job from a local vampire hunting down a run-away thrall, he is immediately thrust into a world of blackmail and backstabbing, where the Rules are nothing more than an inconvenience to ancient, supernatural predators. For the first time, Alek has more to fear from his clients than from his debtors.
But Alek is the best in the business. It’ll take more than a Vampire Lord to keep a good reaper down.

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He’s a dhampir .

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. Dhampir. Half human, half vampire. I’d only met a couple in my line of work. They tended to be quiet, brooding types that ended up working as OtherOps specialists because it was a good-paying job. I wondered if Jacques worked for OtherOps, and side-eyed Ada, hoping she’d come forward with an answer sooner rather than later.

“Has he been briefed?” Jacques asked.

“He’s met Boris,” Ada replied stiffly. “I’ll leave the rest to you.”

“Ah.” Jacques clasped his hands on the table and frowned down at them momentarily. “As I said, my name is Jacques Williams. I’m the US liaison for Lord Ruthven. I trust you know who that is?”

I heard Maggie snort in the back of my head. Augustus Ruthven was one of the Vampire Lords. I didn’t know much about him, to be honest. He was supposed to be one of the more forward-thinking of the old vampires – someone who enjoyed the twenty-first century rather than hiding from it in an eastern European castle. I nodded in response to Jacques’s question. “I know who he is.”

“You understand he is your primary client on the Boris Novak job?”

I looked at Ada again. This I did not know. “I’m not sure what that means.”

“It means,” Ada responded, “that we have taken on a job from Boris Novak – but that job is a front, a farce. We’re really working for Lord Ruthven.”

I was genuinely shocked. “Does Boris know about this?”

Jacques gave me a sallow smile that had only the slightest bit of condescension behind it. He spread his hands. “Let me explain in full. Boris Novak is a hundred and thirty-seven years old. He was turned into a vampire in present-day Serbia just after World War II. His predecessor is unknown. He now lives in North Royalton, Ohio where he owns an online business buying and selling antiques – mostly World War II memorabilia. Boris is what we call a “free” vampire. He exists outside our normal chain of command – he doesn’t report to any of the Vampire Lords, or anyone at all.”

“The thing is,” Jacques continued, “vampires have a … contentious relationship with the rest of the world. We are watched closely by OtherOps and their sister organizations around the world. The Rules that apply to us are incredibly strict, and OtherOps is ready to burst through our doors at a moment’s notice. The rest of the world may see us as lustful, hungry creatures driven by our base instincts, but most vampires just want to be left alone.” He paused momentarily, as if to search for the right words. “As such, we prefer to police ourselves, rather than give OtherOps an excuse for the aforementioned door-bursting.”

A watched Jacques carefully. I have a bad feeling about the direction of this conversation, I said to Maggie. I could sense her silent watchfulness, but she did not respond. To Jacques, I said, “Boris has been a bad boy?”

“Indeed he has,” Jacques said. He paused, eyes turned upward, then corrected himself. “Rather, we think he has. Boris has refused to let us audit his accounts or his thralls. This refusal is a right, as a free vampire, but we suspect that he’s hiding something. So … we are hiring your agency to take a long, hard look at Boris. While you do your job – we won’t interfere with it, of course – you are to compile reports on Boris and inform me of anything suspicious.”

My business alarms were going off. Since when do we spy on one client for another? It was against everything our company stood for. But I’m not the boss – just the working schmuck who has to follow orders – so I bit my tongue. “What do you suspect him of doing?”

“We think he’s been killing his thralls. Part of the Rules stipulates protections for the thralls, and if he’s breaking them, he could invite the wrath of OtherOps down on us all. We suspect that Michael Pavlovich has been murdered, and he’s hired you for a dead-end job to cover his own tracks.”

That was certainly a twist. I leaned back in my chair, glancing sidelong at Ada, who had remained silent through this whole thing. She looked just as irritated as she had to begin with. We did odd jobs on occasion, and those jobs always paid well. But betraying a client was beneath us. At least, it used to be. I wonder if Lord Ruthven has something he’s holding over Ada, I mused.

I was just thinking the same thing, Maggie responded. It’s not like her to be blackmailed. She’s so …

Boring?

Maggie snorted a laugh. By the book.

You say potato … I turned my attention back to Jacques. “So, I do this work for Boris Novak. If I find the kid, I report all is fine. If I don’t, then you guys sweep in and break his legs?”

“It may turn out more complicated than that,” Jacques admitted, “which is why we’re hiring you and not a private investigator of our own. For now, though, that’s a good simplification.”

I took a deep breath and let it come out slowly, staring over Jacques’s shoulder while I considered this whole mess.

I don’t like it, Maggie grumbled. There’s something he’s not telling us.

Is that your lie detector, or just a hunch? I asked. Maggie’s jinn lie detector was pretty spot on, if used against humans or the lesser Other. The more powerful the being, the harder it was for her to pin them down.

Lie detector, she responded. He’s leaving out details for sure.

Of course he is. I sighed inwardly. I don’t like it either, but it’s not like I can say no. Ada has already promised my help, and what she says goes. At least I know why she needs me to do it rather than making Jose and Karen take care of it. There was no way she was going to tell any of the other reapers that we were double-crossing a client. It was a bad precedent to set.

Ada suddenly cleared her throat. “You are at Mr. William’s disposal for the length of the Novak job. As long as you don’t work against Novak, we haven’t broken our contract with the client and my conscience is clear.”

That’s bullshit and she knows it, Maggie grunted. Even having this meeting is working against Boris.

I forced a businesslike smile on my face and directed it toward Jacques. “I suppose that means mine is as well. Leave me your card, and I’ll make sure to keep in touch.”

Jacques produced a card from his breast pocket and slid it across the table toward me. It said Commander Jacques Williams and then in smaller letters, italicized, acting on behalf of Lord Augustus Ruthven . It had mailing address, email, and phone number underneath.

“Commander of what?” I asked Jacques.

“Royal Canadian Navy,” he said. “Retired, of course. Spent a few years as a vampire liaison for OtherOps, but I’ve been with Lord Ruthven for eight years now.”

I pocketed the card, then stood up and showed Jacques to the door. After he’d left, I watched him walk to his car and leave before I returned to the dining room, where Ada was still sitting in an unhappy silence, both hands curled around her cup of tea. “What’s the deal?” I asked bluntly.

She started out of her thoughts, and her eyes focused on me. She frowned. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” I repeated flatly.

“Nothing. We do both jobs, we get paid twice. Then we step aside and allow the Vampire Lords to administer whatever justice they may or may not see fit to deliver.”

I had an argument on the tip of my tongue, about how I could plainly see she was uncomfortable with this whole thing and how it was better for the business if she was honest with me right now so we could get out of whatever mess we were now in, but the argument died before I could voice it. It wasn’t often I saw her so obviously out of sorts like this. It almost made me feel sorry for her. I finally gave her a nod and returned to the kitchen, where I found my half-drunk chai had cooled. I downed it in a couple of gulps and then stepped out on the back patio, where I watched the bats flit around as dusk began to converge. I had a brief moment of nostalgia, of watching these bats as a teenager living in this very house.

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