Брайан Макклеллан - Uncanny Collateral

“Draugr in a Starbucks, Lindberg. That’s all I have to say.”

The average person might have an inkling that the Other existed, but nobody actually wanted to think about how closely our two worlds overlapped. For centuries, the Rules have kept most of this sort of stuff out of the public eye. Nick was going to find himself in trouble with both the humans and the Other. It wasn’t going to go well for him.

Agent Lindberg gave a snort and flipped his notebook shut. “All right, you’re free to go. If you think of any reason at all why this man would attack you, give me a call.” He handed me his card, which I pocketed. The agent headed inside, where a team worked on cleaning the draugr dust from the crime scene. Some lady in a suit stood nearby, yapping into a cell phone – probably someone from Starbucks corporate talking to their insurance. A couple of plainclothes OtherOps agents spoke quietly with the Starbucks employees. They’d probably get a small payout and pro bono counseling for their proximity to the incident.

I rubbed my torn-up gums. I heal a little faster than normal humans, but they would hurt for days. My tusks were gone and my tattoos had stopped glowing, but I had a good ache in my jaw and shoulders from the fight. I’d managed to pop my arm back into its socket before OtherOps arrived, but that hurt too.

Maggie? I said tentatively, getting into my truck.

No response. I could feel her presence in the ring.

Come on .

Hmph, she responded.

I wasn’t gonna let you kill that kid.

He would have told me who he worked for.

Maybe, maybe not. I’ve got friends at OtherOps. Once he’s stewed in a cell for a few days, we’ll see if he wants to talk. No killing needed.

She scoffed. He tried to kill you first. Why are you sticking up for him?

Because he’s still a teenager. I can’t even imagine being a hormonal prick and having the powers of a necromancer. If he were some grizzled old vet, sure. But he’s still a kid.

He’ll come after you when he gets out.

If he does, you can say you told me so as one of his draugr chokes the life out of me. Maggie didn’t respond, and I could sense that something was different about her brooding. What is it? I asked.

This isn’t a joke, Alek. Someone knows I’m alive. They know I’m trapped in here. And they know you carry my ring. I’m not sure how to stress to you how big a deal that is.

I mulled over the thought for a moment. She’d been trapped in there for over five hundred years, and she’d only spent about ten years of that with me. There was a lot of background that I had no context for, but I had no reason to disbelieve her. Look, I know you don’t like to talk about your past, but since I’m the one facing whoever decides to come after you, I really need to know who or what that might be. So if you have anything you’re holding back…

I’m not . I’d expected her to sound indignant at my accusation, but she seemed more frustrated than anything else. I’ve been wracking my mind for who I might have pissed off that’s still hanging around, and I can’t think of anyone. I haven’t walked the Earth as free jinn for a really long time. And that narrows down the list to immortals and very long-lived Others.

Okay. Let’s let the kid stew for a couple days, then we’ll work him over. We’ll find out who hired him and go after that person once we’re finished with Ferryman’s job.

Promise?

Promise. Hell, maybe we can spend your anniversary tracking down an old enemy of yours.

I got a phone call from a blocked number on my way to work Monday morning. “Alek Fitz,” I answered groggily.

“How’s my little Norseman this morning?” It was one of those voices that that immediately made you imagine a full pair of pouty lips. A little tickle went up the side of my neck, as if the owner of those lips had blown gently on that sensitive spot just beneath my ear. It was a voice that demanded attention. All traces of sleepiness disappeared.

“Hi, Lucy,” I said warmly. “You think you could have called me back last night?”

Lucy – or Lucifer, to use her given name – is my favorite client. She’s the CEO of LuciCorp and the most well-known of the Lords of Hell. I like Lucy a lot, and I’ve always felt like she gets a historically bad rap. She’s a top-notch businesswoman, sends me gift baskets every Christmas, and has a great sense of humor.

I heard a scoff from the other end of the line. “Always business with you, isn’t it? I was stuck in an orgy until almost two. You don’t want me to call at two, do you?”

“Not unless you’re inviting me along.”

A wicked laugh responded. “You know you’re always welcome.”

I sucked on my teeth, rolled my eyes, and thought of velvet cushions and top-shelf liquor. I felt a presence stir in Maggie’s ring. “The last time I went to one of your parties, I could barely see for six weeks.”

“And it was completely worth it, wasn’t it?”

You’d better say yes, Maggie said. That party was the most fun I’ve had in centuries, and I only got to watch.

“You know I work for a living, don’t you?” I asked Lucy.

“Pishposh. I’ll lean on Ada – have her send you out here for a consultation of some sort. I seem to remember there being a very cute little fire demon that you got to know pretty well.”

Oh, I remember her , Maggie said.

I felt my cheeks warm. I remembered her too. Occasionally – just occasionally – I love my job. “I got to know a lot of people,” I told Lucy. “It’s all a little hazy. How about you give me a hand now, and we can talk about parties next time, eh? I’m looking for a lady who sold her soul in Cleveland. High-powered exec of some sort.”

“My secretary told me.” Lucy’s voice switched from flirtatious to all business without missing a beat. “She’s not an exec; she’s a lawyer. Normally I wouldn’t give out this sort of information, but I’m told this has to do with the little issue that Ferryman is dealing with.”

“That’s right.”

“Her name is Judith Pyke. She’s a partner at the law firm Wilson and Pyke. I’ll email over all the info we have on her.”

“I really appreciate it.”

“Anything for you, troll boy.” Her voice slid back to flirtatious. “Oh, and tell Nadine to answer my texts. I have board meetings all afternoon, and I need something to keep me occupied.”

“Uh,” I said, “since when do you text with Nadine?”

“Are you joking? Nadine is the funniest person I know in the entire Midwest. We’ve been going on holiday together for years.”

“You think you know a person,” I muttered to myself, pulling into the Valkyrie Collections parking lot. My phone beeped, indicating an incoming call. “I’ve got to go. Send me the information, and let me know when you’re in town next. We’ll get dinner and charge it to Ada’s credit card.”

“I like the way you think.” The line went dead, and I switched over. “Alek Fitz.”

“Do you have any good news for me?” It was Ada.

I swore silently. I should have let it go to voicemail and claimed ignorance later. “Nothing yet,” I told her. There was a long, disapproving silence. I rolled my eyes and tried not to panic as the barcode on my chest tightened. “Look,” I continued, “it’s been two days. I worked all weekend despite some asshole necromancer jumping me at Starbucks.”

Ada sniffed. My barcode continued to feel progressively more uncomfortable. “Ah, yes. What was that about, anyway?”