“Are you okay?” she asked.
I waved off the question. “Make yourself scarce, and quick. Someone will call the cops soon.” I took out my phone. “And if they haven’t yet, I’m going to.” I waited for her to take off in my truck before I dialed a number. “Hey, Justin,” I said, sitting down next to Jacques’s body. “I’ve had quite the day.”
Chapter 16
It was eight o’clock Monday evening when Justin finally came to my holding cell in the OtherOps Cleveland office. He looked exhausted, his shoulders a little slumped and unshaved stubble on his chin. He opened the cell door, came in, and sat down next to me on the cot. I set aside the copy of The Count of Monte Cristo I’d been reading and rubbed my still-sore gums. “Well?” I asked. He’d left the cell door open behind him. I hoped this was a good sign.
He let out a sigh and nodded. “I’ve had a hell of a weekend, thanks to you. There are a lot of people in the local hierarchy who are pissed at you for everything, from the dead dhampir in Rocky River to Boris’s scorched blood tally to the dead thrall.”
“I did not kill Michael,” I protested. “That was Jacques.”
“We know. There was a security camera up the street. Footage was pretty grainy, but we got the gist of it. The story you told us checks out. You acted in self-defense. My boss wants to talk to your witch friend – technically she fled the scene – but I doubt there will be any charges. She was a civilian, and probably in shock.”
A security camera. Even if I had wound up dead, Jacques would have been fucked once someone glanced at the footage. Somehow that was so incredibly satisfying. I would have laughed, but the whole left side of my chest still hurt from the stab wound Jacques had given me. “Am I free to go?” I asked, glancing at the open cell door.
“In a minute.” Justin sighed again. “Our in-house sorcery specialist is very curious why your ring wouldn’t come off when we booked you on Saturday afternoon.” I winced, sensing Maggie’s immediate displeasure, but Justin continued, “I managed to talk her out of asking too many questions. But I admit to being curious myself.”
I hesitated, waiting for Maggie to speak up. She did not. “Maybe over a beer someday,” I said. “Maybe.”
“Gotcha. Here’s the deaclass="underline" we told Boris what happened – the fake version you and I agreed on. We said we’d been watching his shenanigans with the contracts for a couple years now. There are still copies of his contracts, the redacted ones, in the courthouse and his basement, so he technically still has sway over about ninety-seven vampires. That’s enough to make him a Vampire Lord. We told him if he decides to start up business again, or to recreate the original contract language in any way, he is in for a world of hurt.” Justin shrugged. “He doesn’t seem to trust anyone, least of all OtherOps, so I think he bought the story pretty easily. There was genuine fear in his eyes when I told him how close Lord Ruthven had come to getting his hands on his blood tally.”
So that was Boris taken care of. Not appeased, necessarily, but out of the picture. “And Lord Ruthven?”
“When our sister organization in Hungary swung by his estate and asked him about Jacques Williams, his response was ‘who?’”
“He’s denying everything?” I asked.
“Of course. Claims he had nothing to do with it and had never heard of Jacques or Boris Novak. That vampire that your witch friend hit with a glob of garlic? Staked himself in his cell using a spoon. He must have really not wanted to testify against Ruthven. My boss’s boss’s boss gave Ruthven a little friendly advice, off the record, to keep his nose clean in Cleveland for the next few decades.”
I let out a long, shaky breath. So I was clean. This whole damned thing was over. “Thanks,” I managed.
Justin shook his head. “Don’t mention it. But I’ve got to warn you; what with Nick the Necromancer getting released and all this business with the vampires and those contracts, my boss is not happy with you at all. Don’t call looking for a favor from us any time soon: you’re not going to get it.”
“Understood,” I said.
“As a friend, though?” Justin added, standing up and gesturing for me to leave the cell. “I’m glad you called. From what little survived the fire, those contracts were a nasty piece of work. You were right. That could have threatened the whole world in a few decades, and you snuffed it out. Now get out of here.”
I headed outside, collecting my flack vest, gun, endless wallet, and the rest of my belongings at the front desk. There was even a letter waiting for me. It was written in a terrible, barely legible script and it said, I’ve got to get some things in order. Will come find you in a couple weeks. – Nick. I stashed the letter and inventoried the rest of my belongings, then walked outside and checked my phone. It was dead, of course, and I had nowhere to charge it. I sighed, rubbing my temples with the tips of my fingers, standing in the middle of Cleveland with night falling soon.
Heads up, Maggie said. To your left.
I looked over to see my truck idling two blocks down the road. I walked toward it slowly until I could see Olivia sitting behind the wheel. She waved to me. I waved back and joined her, not bothering to kick her out of the driver’s seat. Inside, I found Eddie snoring softly in her lap. “How you holding up?” she asked me.
“Haven’t really slept well in a couple days,” I answered. Eddie woke up just long enough to move from Olivia’s lap to mine. I gave her a tired grin. “OtherOps wants to get your side of the story, but other than that, everything is cleared up.”
She let out a surprised laugh. “Wow. I can’t believe that we’re not dead. I can’t believe you’re not dead. I thought that dhampir was going to clean your clock.”
“He definitely thought he was going to. That’s why I shot him.”
To my surprise, she leaned over and pecked me on the cheek. “You’re the luckiest sonofabitch I’ve ever met. Where to, cowboy?”
“I want a steak. And I want a real bed to sleep in. But there’s something I need to take care of first.”
“Just give me directions.”
I had a light snooze while Olivia drove us toward Beachwood. It was so strange sitting in the passenger seat of my truck that I couldn’t have a proper nap, and I jerked awake as we got off the highway. I directed Olivia down the back streets, and we soon pulled into Ada’s driveway. “I’ll be right back,” I told Olivia. Without thinking much of it, I reached over and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back. I got out of the truck and went up to the front door, ringing the bell. When no one answered, I took out my spare keyring and walked around to the back of the house, letting myself in through the patio door. Everything was tidy, but one glance at Ada’s office told me that no one – except maybe the maid – had been here for days. I did a full circuit of the house, finding nobody, before I headed back to her office.
I pulled a piece of paper out of the printer and wrote a simple message on it.
I KNOW WHY YOU WERE BLACKMAILED.
I left it on the desk and returned to my truck. “Feeling better,” I told Olivia. “Let me drive.”
She pushed Eddie over into the passenger seat but stayed in the middle, leaning into me when I got in the car. Her knee touched mine, and it felt like an electric spark passed between us. Whatever had been building before that confrontation with Jacques had not cooled off.
“Food?” she asked. “Sleep?” Her hand rested on my thigh. I cocked an eyebrow at her. She returned the look and bit her bottom lip. “Your place or mine?” she asked.