Брайан Макклеллан - Uncanny Collateral

I turned my attention to Nick and plastered a pleasant smile on my face. “Hiya, Nick. How’s the food?”

Nick slumped petulantly in his seat, the stainless steel chain of his restraints jangling. “What the hell do you want?”

“Just thought I’d stop by and say hi. See how the ol’ jumpsuit is fitting. Orange really doesn’t suit you, ya know?” Inwardly, I asked Maggie, Is the magician listening in?

As far as I can tell, they’re giving us privacy.

Nick looked over his shoulder at the closed door, then at me. “You put down my draugr, didn’t you?”

“I did,” I responded, covering up my surprise. I was no expert on magic, but the fact he was being guarded by a suppression team yet could still sense when his familiars were destroyed was pretty impressive. “Tracked them to Lake View and put a stake through their hearts. The assholes wrecked my truck, you know. Not happy about that.”

I expected him to come back with some sort of threat, but instead he slumped farther down in his seat and watched me carefully. After a few moments of silence, he said, “How did you do it? You’re just a troll. You’re tough, but you don’t have any magic. You…” He stopped, chewed on a fingernail, and went on. “It was the jinn, wasn’t it? You carry her with you. It’s in the ring.”

It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t bother to answer. I leaned forward. “Tell me who you’re working for, Nick.”

“I will not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I made a vow of silence when I took the job.”

Is he telling the truth? I asked Maggie.

He is.

I snorted. “Why would you do a thing like that?”

“For this eventuality.”

“For a kid, you sure do plan well. Or was it your boss’s idea?”

“It was her idea. And I’m not a kid. I’m nineteen.”

“That’s a kid in this line of work,” I told him. “Most people consider me a kid, and I’ve been at this for twenty years.” I stood up, stretching until my arms touched the walls, and looked down at Nick with a tight smile. “So you either won’t or can’t tell me anything. That means you’re useless to me.”

Nick sat up suddenly. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” I told him. “You tried to kill me in broad daylight, and your familiars wrecked my truck. I don’t like you, Nick, and somehow I don’t think you’re going to pay for a new truck. Add on top of that the fact that I’d prefer to keep you quiet about the jinn, and you’re in a tight spot.”

You just confirmed you have my ring, Maggie sniffed. I hope you’re going somewhere good with this.

Hang in there with me.

Nick looked toward the door. “All I have to do is scream.”

I laughed. “You think I’d kill you in person?” I made a show of twirling Maggie’s ring. “Nah. I’ll give you twenty-four hours to come up with something good to tell me, and then…” I shrugged.

Nick swallowed.

He’s doing that thing where he looks more like a stupid, scared teenager than a powerful necromancer, Maggie said. Almost makes me feel bad. You are aware that I can’t actually kill him like that, right?

He doesn’t have to know I’m bluffing, I told her. I patted Nick on the shoulder and knocked on the door. “I’m done,” I told the suppression team outside.

I found Justin at his cubicle, answering emails. He didn’t look up as I leaned over the cubicle wall and took a peanut butter cup out of the little jar by his keyboard. “Get anything out of the kid?” he asked me.

“Nothing. He claims that he made a vow of silence to his employer. Which could mean all sorts of things, but I’m inclined to believe him.”

“Should I go ahead and just send him to New York?” Justin asked.

I took another peanut butter cup and tapped it on the top of Justin’s monitor thoughtfully. “No. Keep him around. He’ll probably ask for a phone call soon. When he does, tap the line and let me know who he calls.”

“I’m not sure if I’m allowed to do that,” Justin said, finally looking up from his computer.

“Not sure, or definitely not allowed?”

“Not sure.”

“Better to ask forgiveness than permission,” I said with a smile.

He rolled his eyes. “You realize that you’re buying, like, the next ten weeks’ worth of drinks, right?”

“Now, now, let’s talk price once we’ve actually found out who’s trying to have me killed.”

I said goodbye and headed back to my rental, where I took a few moments to close my eyes in the quiet darkness of the parking garage. I could feel Maggie pacing around in the back of my head. I had almost fallen asleep when she spoke. Scaring him into calling his employer is clever.

Glad you think so.

If it works. He’s a smart kid.

True, but most people think that OtherOps are like cops and won’t bug your phones or detain you without reason and bullshit like that.

Aren’t you afraid that he’ll just tell his handlers what he was after? Magicians really like getting their hands on magical baubles, and I bet that one in the OtherOps office wouldn’t hesitate to confiscate me.

You can’t be confiscated without killing me.

You think that would stop her? Magicians are amoral twats.

I sighed. It was an alarming suggestion, to be sure, and I hoped I was as clever as I liked to think I was. He’s under a vow of silence. He literally can’t tell anyone about the ring. I hope, I added in a thought Maggie couldn’t hear.

There was a pause. Okay, I’ll give you credit for that one.

Thanks, I said. I was a little worried that I had tipped my hand about the ring so easily. He knew it was on my finger now, which meant if he managed to escape he could just kill me from a distance and take the damn thing. I had a thought while we were in there. Stop me if this sounds ridiculous.

Go for it.

Back at the cemetery, you mentioned how draugr can become shapeshifters as they become more powerful.

Yeah.

On Ferryman’s case, could we be dealing with a shapeshifter?

We already ruled out werewolves and wendigos.

No, I said, not a man who can become a creature – a genuine shapeshifter.

Maggie seemed to consider the idea. Why do you say that?

Because it’s the only thing I can think of that checks all the boxes: shapeshifters, like undead, are hard to identify with sorcery. OtherOps didn’t have a ready ID on whatever killed those imps. And everything I’ve heard about shapeshifters is that the constant switching between manifestations leaves them unhinged, which you have to be to move in on Ferryman’s turf.

Huh, she responded. I buy it. But there’s over a hundred varieties of shapeshifter out there, and they’re all stupidly rare. What are we looking for?

No idea. But I have another idea.

Yeah?

It’s really stupid.

Oh, no.

I shook the sleep out of my head and started the car. I’m going to poke it with a stick until it decides to come out and play.

The first thing I did was make a phone call to Zeke. The retired cherubim picked up on the fifth ring, answering with a groggy, “Hello.”

“Morning, Zeke. I need you to do something for me.”

“Alek? What time is it? It’s… oh, Christ, it’s nine in the morning. Call me back in three hours.”

“If you hang up,” I said pleasantly, “I’m going to drive down there and kick the shit out of you.”