Million Dollar Demon Page 4

  Eminent domain? I thought, eyes narrowing. This was unicorn crap. City master vampires sucked. But without them, everyone would be prey, not simply one small group of vampires who thought it was a privilege to be the undead’s next fix. In return, Constance was taking what she wanted. And the I.S. was going to help because as the city’s master vampire, she was basically their boss.

  “She’s not going to be here for another two weeks,” I muttered to myself. “What kind of legal loophole did they find to justify this?”

  “One they made up this morning,” a familiar voice said at my elbow, and I jerked, my anger shifting a little closer to home as I saw it was Captain Edden of the FIB looking both confident and apologetic in a light gray shirt, his black pants hoisted high above his slightly spreading middle. No tie.

  Grimacing, I turned away, but not before I caught a hint of pleading in his eye. Too bad I was still mad at the balding, stubborn-as-nails, honest-to-a-fault, loyal, trustworthy, middle-aged former military man who only wanted to make the world a better place.

  “The eviction date was moved up due to the courts going on vacation next week,” he added, shifting closer. The “do not cross” tape was between us, which I thought was fitting. “My backlog is already killing me. We don’t have the jail space for what this is going to cause.”

  Ticked, I looked at him, words failing me. I had trusted him, and he had bitch-slapped me without even knowing it.

  “Rachel,” he said with a pained, forced joviality. “I never expected to see you here. Come on in. I could use your help. None of the former residents are human, and the I.S. is ready to kick me out.”

  He lifted the tape for me to pass under. Arms over my chest, I stared at him.

  “If you’re with me, they won’t make me leave, and I’m trying to help someone,” he added. Forehead wrinkling, he dropped the tape. “Rachel?”

  I didn’t move. My breath was shallow and my gut hurt. Behind him, a potted plant hit the ground and shattered.

  “Okay, I’m an ass,” he said, and I exhaled, almost tearing up in the relief that he wasn’t going to pretend nothing was wrong. “You have every right to be mad at me. But this is an Inderland matter, and if you don’t vouch for me, I’m going to get kicked out. What’s going on isn’t fair. Someone needs to hold them accountable, and the I.S. won’t do it.”

  “That you admit to being an ass isn’t admitting you were wrong,” I said, voice low so it wouldn’t shake. The hurt had been that deep.

  Edden slumped. Pulling himself straight, he faced me directly, with more than tape hanging between us. “I was wrong to assume it was a demon causing the baku murders,” he said. “And even more wrong to not stop that kind of prejudicial thinking right at my desk. Thank you for pointing out that my attitude was that of a xenophobic pig. I’m trying to fix that. Please tell me if I’m ever dumb enough to do it again.”

  Jenks hovered behind him, and I hesitated as he shrugged. The pixy would know if Edden was lying by way of his aura. I didn’t need to see Edden’s aura to know he was sincere. The older man was one of my favorite people, which was why it had hurt so much. But I could forgive him. We all made mistakes, and our upbringing was sometimes hell to overcome. “What can you tell me?” I said, almost breathing the words.

  Edden exhaled, knowing what I was really saying was that I forgave him. Motions fast, he lifted the tape again. I slipped under it, feeling everything change as I accepted his apology. He had acknowledged my feelings were legitimate, taken ownership of his actions, apologized, and promised to be aware of it. If I was going to live in this world, I had to let go of the hurt and move on.

  “They’re being forcibly evicted,” he said as we turned to look at the building, our shoulders almost touching. “They were given four weeks’ notice, but something shifted and everything was moved up.”

  Jenks hovered between us, clearly glad things were getting back to normal, and the two men gave each other a head nod. “What do you mean, everything?” Jenks said, and Edden’s worry turned to a frown.

  “Constance Corson is taking possession this week,” he said, and I started.

  “Crap on toast, this week?” I said, squinting at him. But that explained the new, excessive vamp graffiti blotting out the traditional Were territory signs.

  “Are you sure?” Jenks asked, his wing pitch lowering in worry.

  Edden gestured to the building. “So far she’s been smart and is harassing only Inderlanders.”

  “So why are you down here slumming in the Hollows?” Jenks asked for both of us, and Edden inclined his head, a new smile on his face. He had made it his goal to make a path for Inderlanders to come to the human-run FIB for help, but tradition was hard to break. Clearly someone finally had.

  “Could you . . . She’s over here,” Edden said in answer. Hands in my jacket pockets, I followed him across the lawn to where a woman in hospital scrubs was trying to organize her things into a sad pile. My interest piqued at the candles and chalk. She was probably a witch since an elf wouldn’t be living in a middle-class neighborhood.

  “Stephanie came to me about a week ago,” he said as we walked, and I hustled to catch up with his long strides. “The entire building filed a complaint at the I.S., but when their paperwork landed on a carousel of death, she got desperate enough to try the FIB.” He frowned at the open windows, his mustache bunching up. “This might be my fault. I was close to having the eviction notice declared illegal, so they moved it up.”

  I glanced at Edden, wondering how a witch coming to him for help had gone down with his superiors, but there was a good chance that no one in the system had known she was there until it was almost done—the I.S. handled Inderland matters, the FIB everything else.

  Jenks landed on my shoulder as Edden stopped beside the woman, now staring up at the top floor as a slew of books began shooting out like cannon fodder.

  “Would you just let me come up there and get my stuff?” she shouted, then snatched up one of the thick medical textbooks and brushed the grass clippings off it. “This cost me eight hundred bucks, you pathetic, cowardly, chip-fanged excuse of a bloodsucking mosquito!”

  Jenks made an impressed sound, adding, “I think I like her.”

  Edden cleared his throat. “Stephanie? I want you to meet Rachel Morgan,” he said, and the woman looked up, clearly not seeing me.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said by rote, then turned to drop the book on the others already assembled. Her straight auburn hair was darker than mine, framing her long face in a professional cut. She stood about my height. Her curves were ample and she was an attractive early-thirty-something. Her nose wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big, either, and she wore no makeup and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses that probably saw through spells. A veritable plethora of tiny ring piercings down the arch of her left ear gave her a witchy vibe, the black ringlets looking like a charm of some sort. There was a smallish, silvery black stone embedded in her earlobe as well. Metal was the go-to for ley line amulets, but stone could be used if it had a high enough metal content, and something about it said magic. Where did she get a stone amulet? I wondered.

  A hospital badge hung around her neck and a radiation card was clipped to her lapel. I guessed nurse or tech by her angry, no-nonsense look combined with the obvious strength in her arms and a little extra weight from sitting in a chair too many hours in the day. And she was a witch. The slight scent of redwood lifting from her confirmed it if her piercings and that stone in her earlobe weren’t enough. It wasn’t much, though, so maybe she was just a warlock, able to invoke a charm or spell, but lacking the know-how to make one.

  Feeling for her, I scooped up one of her books, brushing it off before handing it to her. She blinked, the small show of kindness hitting her hard as she held it close, clearly struggling to keep it together. “Ah, everyone calls me Stef,” she said, eyes going to Jenks on my shoulder. “Edden
,” she complained as she set the book—on skin fungi and charms to eliminate them—on the pile. “Can’t you do something? I’ve got two more weeks. We all do.”

  But Edden shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s been signed by a judge. By the time we get it revoked, they will have taken possession.”

  “One on Constance’s payroll, I bet,” Stef muttered, then jumped when her TV came crashing down. “What the hell is wrong with you! Let me up there so I can get my stuff!”

  “I wouldn’t advise it,” I said before Edden could do more than take a reluctant breath.

  “Why not?” she blurted aggressively, and I pointed to the three big I.S. agents at the complex’s door.

  “The entire building is full of vampires hyped up on themselves and the joy of I.S.-sanctioned illegalities,” I said. “Even if you could get past them, you’d be hard-pressed to get back out without a bite, much less with your stuff. You can buy more stuff. It takes years to get over a bite. If ever.”

  “Which is why,” Edden interrupted, clearly uncomfortable, “I’m glad you are here.” He hesitated. “Why are you down here, anyway?”

  “Looking at property,” I said, unwilling to open up that far to him just yet. “Stef, I’m sorry this is happening to you, but my advice is to pack up what they chuck out and find a new place.”

  The woman’s lips pressed together. “Do you know how hard it is to find anything in Cincinnati or the Hollows right now? The nearest place I could find is out at Hamilton, which would give me an hour commute instead of a ten-minute trip by bike or bus.”

  “I do, actually,” I said, letting some of my own frustration show. “I’ve had eight properties jerked out from under me in the last three weeks. I’ve got my own eviction notice pinned to my chest like a big, red A.”

  Stef’s eyes met mine, her entire attitude shifting as she saw us for the first time. Hazel, I thought, then I jumped when an end table hit the ground with a loud crack. Jenks darted from me in surprise, hands on his hips as he stared at the destruction. “Petty,” he said.

  “My cat is up there,” she said, her fear hitting me like a slap in the face.

  Damn it all to the Turn and back. . . . Jaw clenched, I looked at Jenks. I didn’t have to say a word.

  Spilling a bright silver dust, Jenks hovered closer. “I’ll find it. What’s its name?”

  “His name is Boots,” Stef quavered, blinking fast as she tried not to cry.

  Of course it is, I thought, and after giving Edden a dark look to stay put, I headed for the door, arms swaying. “Anything else you want?” I called over my shoulder.

  “That vampire bitch’s head on a platter,” she said, and Jenks laughed.

  “I knew I was going to like her,” he said as he came even with me.

  But I wasn’t anywhere near amused. I hadn’t been embellishing the situation when I told Stef getting in and out without a bite was chancy. Peeved, I looked over the taped-off lawn to find David talking with a group of five Weres in cuffs. “Jenks, how long would it take for you to get David if I need him?”

  The pixy flew beside me, fiddling with his bandana as he considered it. “Right now? About thirty seconds. If he gets himself cuffed?” Jenks hesitated. “Three to five minutes.”

  I didn’t think David was going to get himself in trouble. Still . . . “Tell him I’m going in for a cat. I’ll be nice about it, but if it gets sticky, I might need backup. Then meet me at the front door.”

  “You got it.”

  The three I.S. officers had noticed me coming, and as Jenks swooped over to David, they pulled themselves together into a unified front. I gave the guys, two skinny and one muscle-bound, a fake smile, artfully pulled a strand of hair from my braid, and went over what I had. Splat gun. Fists. My feet. Attitude, I thought as I slowed to a halt, staying one step down to give them a brain-dead smile.

  “I’m going in to get a cat,” I said pleasantly, immediately pegging the skinny guy with the bad shave as the ranking officer. He was a living vamp, obviously, because they wouldn’t send a witch or Were I.S. agent to sanction Constance’s will. “Are you going to give me a problem, or will we all go home tonight the way we came in?”

  “You’ve been evicted, witch,” the heavier guy said. Doyle, according to his badge. “You had your chance.”

  I put a hand on my hip, head cocked. “Seriously, I just want the cat. Five minutes. In, out, gone,” I said, a hint of redhead attitude showing.

  “And that was your warning,” Doyle said, reaching.

  It was a stretch because I was a step down, but I blocked him. Impact sang through my arm, and I used the pain to jab at his throat. He choked, predictably bending to put his ears in my reach. I gave them a good box as I brought my knee up, barely tapping his groin.

  Doyle’s breath exploded from him. His eyes widened, and I grabbed his shoulders, taking his weight and easing him off the step and to the ground. Sure, I felt for the guy, but what I really wanted was my hands on him in case his friends decided to do something and I needed him to take it instead.

  But they didn’t, both watching with wide eyes and a new reluctance to get involved.

  Jenks dropped to the panting man. “Bad life choice. Breathe shallow. It will get better.”

  Not before I get that cat, I hoped as I rose, hands in the air in a show of innocence. “He touched me first,” I said loudly. “Everyone see that?”

  No one said anything. Smile back in place, I stepped over him and took my splat gun out of my bag. “Five minutes,” I promised as I inched past the remaining officers, stifling a shudder as I went into the narrow foyer and the vamp pheromones hit me.

  Damn, it was Mardi Gras and trick or treat all in one, the pheromones so thick I felt as if I had to brush them out of my way. Stuff lined the hallways, skinny vampires in jeans and tees perusing the piles as if shopping. Calls and shouts rang out as others claimed apartments, rooms, or floors. It was pathetic. And illegal. And it pissed me off that no one would do anything about it because the incoming city master vamp needed space for her camarilla. The people she was stealing from could do nothing, and the rest wouldn’t say anything lest they find their home next on the list.

  Breath shallow, I headed for the stairs. No telling what I might find in the elevator, and it was only two stories.

  “Doyle is up,” Jenks said as he flew backward ahead of me, his eyes on the bright patch of light through the open door at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Is he following, or just bitching?”

  Jenks sighed, his dust thinning. “Following. Sorry.”

  I grimaced and walked faster. “See if you can find Boots,” I directed. “Check under the bed, the closet. You know where cats hide.”

  “You want me to put a bow on him and carry him out for you, too?” Jenks said sarcastically. Behind me, Doyle was yelling at everyone to leave me alone. I was his. Right. Slow learner.

  Three steps from the landing, I stopped. “You look like a cat toy,” I said, seeing Stef’s open door amid the clutter. “Entice him out.”

  “Cat toy?” Jenks said indignantly. “That’s exactly what he thinks you are,” he added, chin lifting to indicate the angry vamp standing at the bottom of the stairway, glaring at me with narrowed eyes. “The thing is, I’m faster than any old cat. How fast are you?”

  I went up another step, not so sure anymore. “I guess we’ll find out,” I said, and Jenks hummed off, just below the ceiling, to vanish inside Stef’s apartment.

  “You!” Doyle bellowed, and I turned, glad I had the high ground this time. “You have been evicted,” he snarled as he came up, halting a good six feet away, wary now. “And I have every right to throw your ass in jail for assault and trespassing.”

  I shook my head, drawing this out to give Jenks time to work. “You reached for me. I’m within my rights. And you want to talk about illegal? Fine. Consta
nce pushing up the eviction date isn’t legal even if the I.S. is sanctioning it. And besides, I don’t live here. I’m visiting. Anything in that eviction notice against visiting?” I shifted my foot side to side, balancing it on a toe. If I flung it out, either it would hit his jaw and knock him backward or he’d catch it and jerk me right into his arms.

  “Visit,” Doyle said, the first inklings of thought spilling through him as he looked behind him to where Edden stood on the stoop, chatting with the two I.S. agents as he kept my escape open. “You’re Edden’s witch,” he added derisively, and my face burned.

  “She’s nobody’s demon, fang boy,” Jenks said as he rejoined me. “Get it right.”

  If Jenks was back, he’d found the cat. Thinking that I might pull this off, I found a pretend confidence. “You really want to do this?” I said, hoping to talk my way out rather than fight and risk the lawsuits that would soak up my time and bank account. “Just let me get the cat, okay? I’ll be out of your hair, your life, and your report if you’re smart. Deal?”

  The thick-chested vampire backed down a step, clearly thinking about it. His ears were red where I’d hit him, and he had his weight on one foot. Yes, I had scored on him, but he wouldn’t be so slow the next time.

  “While you’re thinking that over, I’ll get Stef’s cat,” I said, and, breath held, I turned my back on him and took the last two steps, ready to react. “Is he following?” I whispered.

  Jenks shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “Where’s the cat?” My tension spiked as I picked my way through the clutter.

  “Under the bed like you said.”

  “Swell.” I could feel Doyle watching from the stairs as I checked my splat gun. I stocked it with sleepy-time charms so it would do no real damage, but it was embarrassing to have to be doused with salt water to wake up, and vampires hated to be embarrassed.