Kelly Meding - As Lie the Dead

At the door, Wyatt’s voice stopped me again. He said, “Hey, Phineas?”

Phin took a step forward, head tilted to the side, a gesture I’d come to associate with curiosity. “Yes?”

“Keep an eye on her for me.”

Sweet, but an unnecessary request. Phin and I had watched each other’s backs well so far; we each had something invested in the other. Wyatt knew that, he just couldn’t be there to protect me himself.

“Of course,” Phin replied.

“Just be a good patient,” I said, “and don’t piss off the nurses.”

Wyatt flashed his best shit-eating grin. “I need entertainment, you know.”

“Read a book,” I tossed over my shoulder as I left. In the bustle of the hallway, I waited for Phin to catch up to me, then asked, “Where are we meeting Jenner?”

“His office, over on South Street,” Phin said.

“Doctor’s office?”

“Law office.”

I groaned. Just had to be a lawyer.

2:30 P.M.

Phin had said downtown, and yet I still pictured a posh, glass-walled building with fancy landscaping and metered parking, maybe some nice hedges. The building he parked in front of was none of those things. The cement block walls hadn’t seen fresh paint this decade, cracks in the sidewalk sported dandelions and dried clumps of grass, and graffiti adorned the car permanently parked next to ours, its tires long gone. On the far west side of Mercy’s Lot, surrounded by bail bondsmen and porn shops, we arrived at Michael Jenner’s office.

“He’s a public defender?” I asked. The simple painted sign in the barred window said so, but I just couldn’t believe it.

“That surprises you?” Phin said.

“Well, yeah. I’ve never seen a P.D. who wears such fancy suits.”

“Only when on Assembly business, I assure you. He’s a pretty nice guy, if you give him a chance.”

“Undoubtedly.”

I let Phin take point, and we went in without knocking. The tiny reception room smelled of food spices—clove and cinnamon and something tart. Four scarred wood chairs lined the wall to our left. A vacant desk sat opposite the door, silent sentry to the room’s only other door. Besides a phone, a blotter, and a neat stack of manila folders, the desk was bare. No decorations on the walls, no magazines for visitors. Spartan was too kind.

“Must not be very good,” I said. “His services don’t appear to be in high demand.”

“He’s selective about his clients,” Phin said. “Keeps his time available for our kind rather than yours.”

Our kind. Fascinating . “Just weres, or Dregs in general?”

He grunted, just like before. Seemed he objected to the word “Dreg.” Not that it was meant as a term of endearment, only a reminder of how Triads viewed the nonhumans. Lesser creatures. Same way I’d always seen them. Until now, and I wasn’t sure what to do with my altering point of view.

I didn’t apologize, and Phin didn’t comment. He circled the desk and rapped his knuckles on the rear door. A muffled voice said, “Enter.”

Jenner’s office was as unimpressive as his waiting area. Simple oak desk, a single bookcase filled with texts and tomes of law. Two barred windows, boring cream curtains. A framed law degree. The wall to the right of the door was hidden behind an army of filing cabinets; I had no doubt each one was stuffed full, and not necessarily of past cases.

Michael Jenner sat in a brown leather desk chair, shirtsleeves rolled up, tie loosened, fingers steepled in front of his mouth as though contemplating a chess move.

I closed the office door behind me. Neither Phin nor I sat in the two wooden chairs opposite the desk.

“Ms. Stone,” Jenner said. “Phineas tells me you need information from the Assembly.”

“You get right to the point,” I said.

“Is that a problem?”

“Actually, it’s refreshing.”

“What proof do you have that the rest of the Clans are in danger?”

“Proof?” I looked sideways at Phin, who dutifully ignored me. Oh, wait, Jenner was a lawyer. “All I have is circumstantial evidence and a gut feeling, Your Honor.”

“Bi-shifting is a closely guarded secret among our people,” Jenner said, casting a cross look at Phin. “What makes you think I will risk the safety of those Clans based on your gut?”

“Whoever ordered the slaughter of the Coni and Stri may already know who the other bi-shifting Clans are,” I said.

Jenner narrowed his eyes. “Or you could be waiting to pass this information along to your friends in the Triads, so they can finish what they started.”

Phin caught me around the waist before I could get three steps. My face flared red-hot, on a par with my anger. His arms tightened and pulled me close to his chest. I didn’t fight hard. I hadn’t planned to hurt Jenner badly, just give him a pretty shiner to go with his fancy suits.

“Evy, don’t,” Phin said softly.

“How dare you?” I snarled at Jenner. Red colored the fringes of my eyesight. “How fucking dare you, you absolute asshole? Let go!” The final demand came out a shrill scream, unrecognizable as my own voice. Phin’s hold loosened; I tore away from him and stormed to the other side of the cramped room.

Jenner hadn’t moved, hadn’t even unsteepled his fingers.

“Accuse me of that one more time,” I said, hands clenched tight so they didn’t shake, “and there won’t be enough pieces of you to do a proper autopsy.”

He raised one slender, perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Your temper is going to get you into trouble, young lady.”

“It’s gotten me into trouble more times than I can count.” I inhaled, held the breath, then let it out through my nose. Wyatt had once called it a cleansing breath. It didn’t help. “Look, Mr. Jenner, I owe you shit, and I owe the rest of the Clans about the same. But I owe my life to Phineas and his people, and I will do my damnedest to protect them from the Triads, from vampires or goblins, and even from you.”

“They have nothing to fear from me,” Jenner said darkly.

“Says you. How the hell do I know for sure? I’ve known you for the grand total of thirty minutes, and to tell you the truth? Not impressed.”

“Your little attempt at reverse psychology is admirable but misplaced, Ms. Stone.”

Was that what I was doing?

“Even if you don’t believe her,” Phin said, “call the Elders to Assembly. Tell them what we’ve told you, and then let them decide. If nothing else, it will keep the other bi-shifters on alert for potential trouble.”

Jenner lowered his hands. They disappeared beneath the desk. He sat up straighter, some of his earlier disdain falling away. “I’ll alert the Assembly, but I can’t promise anything. Most likely they’ll vote to keep the matter internal. They don’t like to advertise weakness to the other races.”

I snorted. “Given what happened last week, I’d say you’re too late to keep a lid on that one.”

“Even so, I can make no promises as to their decision.”

“We had to come all the way out here for him to not tell me anything?” I asked Phin. “We could have done this over the phone.”

“Telephones can be tapped,” Jenner said. “I know my office is safe. I can’t say the same for other locations.”

Okay, he had a valid point. Dammit. I plucked a pen from the cup near his blotter and scribbled a phone number down next to last week’s date. “Call me if you get good news,” I said. “Otherwise, stay the hell out of my way.”

He stood; I’d forgotten how tall he was until I craned my neck to keep our gazes level. I tensed, unsure of his next action. He held nothing in his hands. They remained by his sides, no offer to shake. “The answers you want may not be as hidden as you think, Ms. Stone,” Jenner said. “We aren’t any more complicated than a simple fairy tale.”