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It had been a few weeks since someone had tried to kill me. These attempts always ended in failure for the assassins; I just ended up late for work and got chewed out for making a scene. You’d think they’d give up eventually.
I adjusted my grip on the handrail and glanced over my shoulder at the crowded commuter car. A Japanese man with a goatee was at my five o’clock. He hadn’t looked at me directly since we boarded, but he was watching my reflection in the shiny chrome trim on the interior of the passenger car. They had no windows due to something about the sight of inter-dimensional travel burning your eyes from your skull and melting your brain out of your ears if you ever gazed upon it.
Next to Goatee – the nickname seemed fitting – was a twitchy man wearing a hoodie pulled down far enough that I couldn’t see his face. Tattoos extended down onto his fingers and thumbs that spelled out MAGIC BITES. He seemed…well adjusted.
Straight ahead was a blonde-haired woman dressed casually in jeans, a t-shirt, and a tailored coat that hugged her curves. She kept her body angled away from me, but every couple of minutes she looked past me at the two men.
A short sword hung at her hip, but that wasn’t unusual. Many supernaturals carried a weapon but we had an old-fashioned idea about honor. No one carried guns, it was all blood and blades with us.
I glanced at the map that showed our progress. We were less than two minutes away from the stop. The would-be assassins wouldn’t attack me before we debarked the Rune Car and left the station itself. No one could pay an assassin enough for them to martyr themselves trying to kill you.
Moira was heavily policed and protected supernatural city, but the Rune Rail system went above and beyond. It was guarded by Valkyries – how they got the Valkyries remained a mystery. They lurked, sight unseen, until someone threw a punch. Or drew a blade. Or cast any spell meant to harm. A few people managed to survive their retribution for a few seconds, but most vanished into a pink mist faster than you could blink. No one delayed the Rune Rail. Ever.
Everyone swayed forward as the passenger car came to a gentle stop. A wave of magic passed through the crowd that made my skin crawl. It wasn’t exactly painful, but it was uncomfortable, especially since no one knew how it worked.
I kept my eyes forward as the crowd spilled out onto the platform. In my periphery, I could see the woman following me. The two men were most likely following me as well, but I wasn’t going to make it obvious that I had spotted them. Yet. Of course it was possible I was mistaken and they were just stalkers. I got those a lot too and, try as I might, it was pretty much impossible to stop that entirely.
Two large escalators led up to the main floors of the Rune Rail Station. Everyone who wanted to stand waited in a neat line on the right, leaving room to jog up on the left if you were in a hurry. I thought about making my potential stalkers wait in the line on the right-hand side with me, but I was already cutting it close to get to work on time. If I had to have a conversation with them, I was going to be very late.
I hurried up the left side of the escalator. The Rune Rail levels of Moira were always packed; it truly was the city that never slept. Since there was no real sky to see, a combination of runes and technology – runetech – were used to illuminate the ceilings. It cycled through simulations of the skies, changing hourly, and was currently showing a cloudy, but sunny, sky from who knew where.
Moira – the city between worlds – was what started the Magical Revolution, uniting supernaturals and Prosaics after centuries of keeping our magic in the shadows. Moira was nowhere, and everywhere, at the same time. You couldn’t find it on a map, but the Rune Rail connected it to every major city in the world. No one knew how it was created, or where the mysterious city was, but every supernatural wanted to be there.
It provided an oasis away from the Prosaics – what mages called those without magical talents. Twenty minutes or less and the Rune Rail could take you to any major city in the world you wanted. All you needed was a little magic in your blood. Of course, that meant trouble could follow you just as fast.
I let the crowd sweep me along until I reached what was colloquially known as the Crossroads. It was the first floor above the Rune Rail and home to some of the busiest shops, leading to a sort of pedestrian traffic jam. I went right and followed one of the smaller roads away from the mess. If this was going to get violent, I needed to be as far away from the crowds as possible.
As I walked past a storefront lined with glass, I kept an eye on the reflection. Sure enough, they were still following me. With a sigh, I glanced at my watch again. I was definitely going to be late.
The roads on each level of Moira were laid out in a precise grid. The farther out you went, the quieter it got. Some of the less glamorous businesses found a home out here. There were also run down apartments that housed the people who worked in Moira but were not wealthy enough to afford condos on the upper levels.
The crowd thinned to a trickle, then became non-existent. My stalkers were very obvious at this point. Goatee stayed about five meters behind me, and Hoodie paced me on the other side of the street. The woman, however, had disappeared at some point. That meant she was probably the one to worry about.
The business just ahead had a sign plastered in the window saying it had been repossessed due to non-payment of rent. A few meters beyond the building, the street ended at what was called the Edge. Reaching the borders of Moira was like reaching the edge of the world. It just ended, fading into a hazy darkness. A force field powered by runetech kept anyone from falling off, but being this close always sent a chill up my spine; it was like looking into the Abyss. Businesses stuck near the Edge never did well.
Whatever happened next was probably going to be messy. This seemed like as good a place as any to minimize potential property damage. I had a bit of an issue with causing that.
I stopped mid-step and turned to face the two men. “I don’t suppose you just came to chat?” I asked, my tone hopeful. I liked to give mercenaries a chance to come to their senses. They never did, but it made me feel chivalrous.
Goatee frowned at my flippancy and took a step forward, cracking his knuckles. “You have given the boss enough trouble. Today it ends,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice.
He could be talking about so many different people. I could ask which person he meant, but that normally just insulted them and was rather pointless.
“With just the two of you? Come on, last time they sent four.” I grinned and rested my palm on the hilt of the katana hanging on my hip. The magic inside it rose to meet my own and I felt everything click into place. “We can wait for the lady to show up, but if you think that’ll make me go easy on you, you’re out of luck. I don’t discriminate.”
“I will enjoy the sound of your pleading right before I take your head,” Goatee said. Without further monologuing, he rushed forward.
I drew my katana, the blade singing as I pulled it out of the sheath. The blade didn’t glint in the light; the steel was pure black and seemed to devour the light rather than reflect it.
Goatee gestured, burning a rune right into the air. He thrust his hand against the blazing symbol, and a dagger of bright green light shot toward me. I cut through it, and the magic crackled around me as the spell broke and dissipated.
I pushed off the ground with my right foot, but a manhole cover pounded into my right arm and hip, slamming me into a wall five feet away. Several of the bricks crumbled from the impact of my shoulder, while I slumped to the asphalt. My kidney felt like…well, it felt like a fifty-pound manhole lid had just crushed it; and I was fairly certain it broke a rib or two. I would have to deal with the damage later.
The manhole cover slid away, sparking against the concrete. The woman stalked forward. Her coat was gone, and her long blonde hair waved around her as if she were floating underwater. That gave me an idea.
I traced a quick rune over the ground with my hand. The magic hovered in place, glowing bright orange. I wrapped my hand around the rune and, with a tight grip on my katana to keep from screwing it up, pumped it full of power. This was going to be fun.
The air around my hand vibrated from the energy I was pouring into the rune. Hoodie finally got tired of waiting and darted forward. He flicked his wrist and a smoky blade raced toward me. Time seemed to slow as I took in the three mages converging on me.
I always wondered what could compel someone to kill for money. Based on the hungry gleam in Goatee’s eye as he sprinted toward me, I guessed money for him. His feet pounded against the pavement as he gestured in the air, summoning his magic.
The woman stayed back, her fingers dancing through the air. I heard the clang of something metal but didn’t see the manhole cover until it was flying past Goatee, headed straight for my face. Jerking back, I released the rune.
For six meters all around us in a perfect sphere, gravity just stopped working.
I was expecting it, but it was still hard to keep from flipping upside down when I pushed off the ground to dodge the projectile. My back scraped against the rough brick of the building behind me, but I had to stay close to it or I’d risk floating off.
Goatee was moving forward with too much momentum to stop himself. The manhole cover had continued on its original trajectory, and, to my intense satisfaction, the two collided. It hit him square in the face, knocking a tooth out of his jaw. Blood bubbled out of his mouth, floating around in a wobbly sphere. I couldn’t have timed that better if I’d tried.
As the manhole hit Goatee, Blondie was launched in the opposite direction from the force of the impact. Her back smacked against the glass window of the shop across the street, shattering it. She disappeared into the building with a shocked expression. I guess no gravity made her magic a bit weird to use.
Hoodie was floating upside down. His green eyes flashed and were the only things I could see in the shadows of his hood. I knew that look; he was the sort of guy who killed people, not for the money, but for the hell of it.
“You’ve got less than six seconds to surrender and walk away from all this,” I shouted the offer down at them. I was still rising, and would until I bounced off something. Or until gravity came back, which it would be doing any second now.
Goatee spat another glob of blood from his mouth and raised his hand toward me. “You’re gonna burn for this!” he shouted, baring his red-streaked teeth at me. At least, what was left of them.
Seven…Eight…
Purple flames erupted from his palm and twisted straight at me through the air. I kicked off the building behind me and flew over the magic.
Nine…Ten.
Gravity came back with a vengeance as I passed over Goatee. I held the katana with one hand and drove it down, straight into his leg. We hit the ground, and the blade stabbed through his thigh into the concrete.
He screamed in pain, his voice strangled from the crushing weight of doubled gravity. That was the fun part about this rune. Until I canceled it, gravity would end for ten seconds, then come back doubled. It was twice as strong this time, but with the next cycle, it would be three times as strong. I had never let it go past three cycles, and that was pushing it. Even as a mage, my body didn’t do well in those conditions.
I kept up the mental count. The main advantage this spell gave me was knowing when it would shift again. I didn’t want to be surprised along with them.
The sudden increase in gravity made my cracked ribs ache something fierce. I gritted my teeth and ripped the katana from his leg. He rolled to his side and clutched the injured limb.
Hoodie had landed on his head but was slowly pushing himself back onto his feet, leaving a smudge of blood on the asphalt. The tinkle of glass drew my attention.
Three…Four…
To my right, the shattered glass that was scattered on the street lifted like a glittering curtain. The blonde-haired woman stepped out of the empty window, a murderous expression on her face. Well…that wasn’t good.
With an angry shriek, she sent the glass flying right at me. Maybe her motivation was actually just pent up rage. I lifted my katana and braced my hand against the back of the blade. I had to be careful, even while using my focus, not to overdo this.
Five…Six…
The glass streaked toward me, tinkling as it bounced together. I leaped toward it, and a wave of dark green magic poured out of my sword. It collided with the glass shards and consumed them. Dust rained onto the concrete below.
Seven…Eight…
I charged toward Hoodie and ducked as he slung another summoned blade at me. I kicked him in the gut, then swept his legs. He hit the ground with a thud, and I stomped on his head, cracking it against the curb. He probably wasn’t dead, but…eh…
Nine…Ten.
Gravity vanished. I kicked up, then launched myself off the building again. Blondie was a little more prepared this time, but launching the manhole cover at me again still pushed her back, slamming her against the concrete. Her skull bounced off the ground, but the impact didn’t knock her out.
I grabbed the ledge of the broken window and forced myself to the ground near her feet. She kicked out, aiming for my knee. I jerked my leg out of reach of the strike and launched myself to her left, bringing my sword down in an arc. I stopped it less than an inch from her neck.
She froze. My toes lifted slightly off the ground, but I was slowly drifting upward. I pressed the cold metal edge of the katana to her throat, just to make sure I had her full attention.
“If you get offered this job again, remember that it’s not worth the money.”
“Go to hell –”
I flipped the blade over and brought the dull side down on her temple. That shut her up real fast.
With my left hand, I drew the rune needed to cancel the gravity loop and dropped to the ground. Blondie fell in a heap, and I left her there. This was not my mess to clean up.
I flicked my blade sharply, and the blood coating it splattered onto the pavement. I knelt beside Goatee and wiped it clean on his shoulder. He groaned in pain, glaring at me with a mix of fear and rage. The wound was bad, but he was a mage. He’d heal the injury in a couple of days at most.
I stood and re-sheathed the katana, then texted one of the sergeants in my division. They’d know what I meant, I had to send these texts often enough.
Clean up on level 12, near Edge, 30th and Border St.
These particular assassins were second-rate. It was almost as if whoever sent them didn’t actually want me dead. Shaking my head, I texted the individual I was fairly certain was responsible. It was almost always the same, persistent asshole.
If you miss me, you could just call or send flowers. No need to send assassins.
I strolled into my department twenty minutes late and headed toward my office, which was nothing more than a large desk in a small room with no door. Most detectives shared an office with their partner, but I was fortunate enough to work alone.
IMIB, the International Magical Investigations Bureau, was located in Moira. It was run by a cooperative council made up of the Mage’s Guild and representatives of the other supernatural races. The IMIB offices were on the thirty-second level – a few floors below the swanky, over-priced condos where the rich and powerful lived – but above the Rune Rail, busy stores, and the entertainment district.
“Blackwell,” Chief Bradley shouted, stepping out of his office with a thick red folder in his hand. His name was fitting since I was almost certain the tank was named after him. He was stocky and wide, though not all of his bulk was muscle these days.
Standing in front of him was possibly the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and perhaps the most eccentric. A blood-red trench coat hung down to the top of her knee-high leather boots – but that wasn’t the eccentric part. She had bright pink hair that hung around her face in a sleek bob. Her eyes were the same color, though a deeper shade that bordered on purple.
“Yes, sir?” I asked, pausing in the walkway. If he knew about the fight, I was about to get chewed out. Probably in front of the whole department.
“Why are you late?” Bradley asked, his mustache bristling in expectation of needing to yell at me.
“Slept through my alarm clock,” I lied with a smile. The less he knew, the better. There wasn’t any serious damage this time anyhow.
“I want to talk to you in my office in ten minutes. Don’t sleep through your alarm on the way here,” Bradley snarked, obviously suspicious of my weak excuse, before heaving his bulk through the door.
The pink-haired beauty barely looked at me before following him inside. I, however, couldn’t tear my eyes away from her.
Hot coffee splashed against my chest and I jumped back with a yelp. My recently healed ribs twinged as the hot liquid stung my chest.
“Dammit, Blackwell, watch where you’re going,” Peterson snapped. Coffee dripped from his chin and the file he was holding.
“I wasn’t the one walking,” I muttered, pulling my soaked shirt away from my skin. I’d have to get that stain out; I didn’t want to have to send yet another suit to my dry cleaner. It had been necessary to find someone with talent after the incident with the blood and…well, the rest was better left unremembered.
* * *
Chief Bradley towered over his oak desk. It was cluttered with pictures of his family and at least three coffee mugs, all proclaiming him World’s Best Grandpa. Behind him was a screen built into the wall that showed all the active cases in his division – murders, robberies, and organized crime, all committed by supernaturals. The room smelled faintly of cigars.
“A vampire walked out in broad daylight and blew up,” Bradley said, tossing the picture of the graphic crime scene down on a thick folder. “The morning after robbing a bank in Seattle.”
“A bank? That’s odd,” I commented, grimacing as I looked at the picture. One of her legs had managed to land in a trash can, her heeled foot sticking up like a demented candlestick.
Vampires weren’t vulnerable to much, but they could not tolerate sunlight. An old prosaic myth was that they burned in the sun. I wish that was all they did. Instead, they exploded. The pieces would smolder and burn into ash eventually, but it was a messy way to go.
“This is a PR disaster,” Bradley continued, his voice growing in volume. “The Vampire Guild is up in arms, the Mayor of Seattle is stirring the prosaics up about the supposed supernatural threat, and I haven’t even had my coffee yet.”
He stood with his fists on his hips waiting for our reaction. The pink-haired woman was sitting in the chair next to me, but Bradley hadn’t bothered introducing her.
I still wondered what her purpose was here. She couldn’t be a detective with that hair. Besides, I’d never seen her before. If I had, I would already have her number. Maybe I could get it after this and arrange a different kind of meeting. One that involved drinks and less clothes.
I leaned forward and grabbed the file off the table. “No signs of aggression or blood psychosis, but the ME’s initial ruling is still just suicide,” I commented as I flipped through the file. “If she robbed a bank this was probably a less painful death. The Vampire Guild would have killed her slow for pulling a stunt like that.”
“Perhaps, but there’s always a reason when a supernatural dies,” the pink-haired woman stated, turning to look at me. “Especially a vampire over two hundred years old. It’s lazy to assume it’s a suicide without investigating it at all.”
A muscle in my jaw twitched as I clenched my teeth tightly together. “I’ve been accused of a lot of things, lady, but lazy is never one of them,” I drawled, trying not to let on to the extent of my irritation. “Why is she even in here? This is a police matter, not fashion week.” I gestured at her outfit, just in case Bradley had somehow missed it. She might be hot, but she was getting on my nerves. I had my issues, but I was a good detective.
“Ah, that brings me to the other reason I asked you in here,” Bradley said, a smug look settling on his face.
I didn’t like it. Any reason Bradley had to look smug always meant pain and annoyance for me. I narrowed my eyes at him threateningly, but that just made his smug smile grow.
“This is your new partner, Detective Lexi Swift,” Bradley said, hooking his thumbs into his waistband.
“My what?” I demanded, slamming my hands down on his desk and rising to my feet.
“You heard me,” Bradley said, full-on grinning now. “After last week’s fiasco, I was forced to find a solution for you. You’re the best detective we have, but you leave a trail of destruction and chaos behind you. Frankly, the department can’t take it anymore.”
“I do what I have to in order to get the job done—”
Bradley lifted his hand, cutting me off. “No more excuses, Blackwell. You’re working with Swift. She was the best detective they had in Magical Artifacts, but more importantly, she had no complaints last year.”
That explained never meeting her; those agents were often posted in places other than Moira. That whole division was made up of nerds who fancied themselves a cross between librarian and archeologist.
I turned my glare on her and she stared back impassively. I seriously regretted even considering buying her a drink at this point. Talk about dodging a bullet. “I work alone,” I snapped. “And all those complaints were crap and you know it!”
“You blew up the front of the Met! You’ve been banned from New York City for a year!” Bradley yelled, his patience finally cracking. “And that was after you led a high-speed chase through three cities and Moira! There was over five million dollars in property damage! You’re getting a damn partner, and if I get one more damn complaint about you, you’re suspended! Without pay!” Bradley said, slamming his hands down on the desk and matching my glare.
“I paid for the damages,” I said, grinding my teeth together. “And you know I don’t give a crap about the paycheck!”
“Suspended means no cases,” Bradley said, jabbing a finger in my face.
I pressed my lips into a thin line, and Bradley leaned back, self-satisfied. He knew he had won. There was a reason I worked when I had more money than I could ever spend, even in my extended lifetime – interest is a beautiful thing. My parents had been murdered over one hundred and thirty years ago. I needed this job if I ever hoped to catch the people responsible. Political assassinations were convoluted and messy affairs, but supernaturals had long memories; and we could hold a grudge better than anyone. The contacts and the skills I had gained brought me one step closer to that goal every day.
Swift uncurled from her chair, her eyes sparking with anger. Literally. “I knew you had a reputation, Blackwell, but you’re even worse than I expected,” she said, those pretty lips dripping with disdain. She turned to Bradley and a mask of professionalism fell over her features. “I’m sure Detective Blackwell and I will have an effective partnership, even if I have to do all the work myself.”
“Like hell, we will,” I muttered, snatching the folder off the desk. “This conversation isn’t over, Chief.”
“You better not be in my office in the morning trying to complain,” Bradley threatened as I turned and shoved the door open.
A whiff of Swift’s perfume tickled my nose as I brushed past her. The scent followed me as I strode through the department. The other detectives were used to my moods and my temper; they stayed out of my way and kept quiet.
Swift followed me out of Bradley’s office and out of the station. In fact, she followed me all the way down to the Rune Ride rental office. Maybe if I ignored her long enough she would take the hint and go away.
“Hey, Billy,” I said, nodding at the kid behind the rental desk.
Rune Ride was one small part of MR, Incorporated, the massive international company that owned and operated Moira. Lucky for me, MR, Inc. had worked out a deal with IMIB that let us travel for free, even off duty. That included rental vehicles. You picked up the keys in Moira for the car available in the region you were traveling to, then just found it in the garage. It streamlined the process and allowed them to keep minimal staff in the many cities the Rune Rail reached.
“Hey, Blackwell,” Billy said, grinning and waving his tablet at me. “The usual?”
“Absolutely,” I said with a nod.
Bobby grabbed the key he hid under the counter for me and handed it over. I slid my company card across the desk, but instead of taking it, he was staring slack-jawed over my shoulder. At Swift.
I snapped my fingers in front of his face and he startled out of it. “Dude, don’t ogle the enemy,” I chastised him.
“The enemy?” Bobby whispered, his eyes going wide.
“Yeah, she’s an evil parasite I can’t get rid of,” I explained, shoving my card at him. “Let’s hurry it up, kid.”
Swift snorted behind me. The first reaction I’d gotten out of her. “What is the usual?” she asked, stepping up beside me and grabbing the key off the counter.
I snatched it out of her hands before she could get a good look. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll be driving,” I said, slipping the key Bobby kept hidden for me in my pocket. I’m a particular guy. I like certain cars, my suits to be impeccable, and always getting my way. That’s why I work alone.
Swift rolled her eyes. “I’m surprised you manage to get anything done with that attitude.”
“I get plenty done,” I said, striding off toward the platform that would take us to Seattle. The vampires favored that area because of its severe lack of sunlight.
Moira had forty levels, counting from the bottom up like a high-rise building. The Rune Rail system took up the lower eight, and was divided up by the region it serviced. North America was on level seven.
There’s an old saying about Moira, the higher you go, the more it costs. The top few levels were filled with mansions for the rich, famous, and powerful. In between, Moira was filled with shopping and entertainment.
Swift kept up with me easily despite my quick pace and longer legs. “Do you have any contacts in Seattle?” Swift asked. “Because if not, I know some people we can speak with to get some more information on the local vampire activity.”
“How about we figure out if this is a suicide first,” I said drily. “And I know plenty of people in Seattle we can get information from, if we need to, and that’s a big if.”
Swift grabbed my arm and forced me to a stop. She was stronger than she looked, but most of our kind were. “Look, I didn’t want to get stuck with you any more than you wanted to be stuck with me. But we’re partners now and it’s stupid to work against each other, when we can be more effective as a team.”
I jerked my arm out of her grip. “You’re going to get in my way,” I said, looking directly into her creepy, glowing eyes. “In fact, you already have.”
I’m sure she was competent, and even smart, but having a partner was a risk I wasn’t willing to take. The assassins who had come for me this morning had been crappy; but if someone else had been there, I might not have been able to protect them. I hadn’t been able to last time I had a partner.
She pursed her lips and looked at me thoughtfully. “How about a wager then, to prove who is the better detective.”
“And how are we going to prove who is better?” I asked, raising my brow.
“If this turns out to be a suicide, you win, and I’ll ask for a transfer,” Swift said. “If it’s murder, then you have to dye your hair pink until we solve the case.”
There was no way in hell I would ever dye my hair pink; but there was also no way I was backing down from this wager, even if it was dumb and risky. “Fine, you have a deal, Swift.”
She stuck out her hand with a glint in her eyes. I wrapped my fingers around hers, and the magic from our pact bound our hands together in golden threads that shone brightly before disappearing with a snap.
Magic was a finicky thing. When two supernaturals made an important agreement, it bound them to it. The consequences for going back on your word were unpredictable. I hadn’t expected our magic to bind a silly wager like this.
A bad feeling settled in my gut. I didn’t like the smug look in her eyes anymore than I liked seeing it on Bradley. Our train popped up next to the platform, a puff of air rushing past us.
“Ladies first,” I mocked, waving her ahead of me with a bow.
She snorted and brushed past me. “You’re going to look ridiculous with pink hair,” she said over her shoulder.
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