Just take the drivers-ed class and get it over with.
But its not fair! Theyre intentionally making my life difficult.
Golly, imagine that? The key slid into the ignition, and Glenn paused to tug a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on to up his cool factor by about ten. Face easing in relief, he looked down the quiet street shaded with trees almost eighty years old. What do you expect? he said. You gave them an excuse. They took it.
I drew a frustrated breath, holding it. So I ran a red light. It was yellow most of the way. And I went a little fast on the interstate once. But I suppose letting my ex-boyfriend run into me with a Mack truck to help a vampire start his undead existence might be cause for a few points. No one had died but the vampire, thoughand he wanted to.
I fiddled with the button again, and Glenn took the hint. Warm air sifted in as the window whined down, replacing the scent of my perfume with the aroma of cut grass. Jenks! I called as he started the car. Lets go!
The rumble of the big car hid the clatter of Jenkss wings as he zipped in. Sorry about the message, Rache, he muttered as he landed on the rearview mirror.
Dont sweat it. I stretched my arm along the length of the open window, not wanting to ream him out over it. Id taken enough flak from my brother for doing the same thing, and I knew it hadnt been intentional.
I settled into the leather seats as Glenn pulled onto the empty street. It would stay empty until about noon, when most of the Hollows started to wake up. My pulse was slow from the early hour, and the heat of the day made me sleepy. Glenn kept his car as tidy as himself; not an old coffee-stained cup or clutter of paperwork marred the floor or backseat. So-o-o-o, I drawled around a yawn, whats at the morgue besides the obvious?
Glenn glanced at me as he yielded to a stop sign. Suicide, but its murder.
Of course it is. Nodding, I waved at the I.S. cruiser behind an overgrown bush, then made a bunny-eared kisskiss to the small Were in fatigues dozing on a bench in the sun watching them. It was Brett. The militant Were had been kicked out of his pack for having failed at kidnapping me a few months ago, so of course I was the one he wanted to pack up with next. It made sense in a warped sort of way. I had bested his alpha; therefore I was stronger.
David, my alpha, wasnt having anything to do with it, seeing as he hadnt wanted a pack in the first place. It was why hed bucked the system and started one with a witch in order to keep his job. And so Brett was reduced to lurking on the outskirts of my life, looking for a way in. It was flattering as all hell, but depressing. I was going to have to talk to David. Having a militant Were attached to my chaotic life wasnt a bad idea, and Brett truly wanted someone to look to. It was how most Weres were put together. Davids protest that Brett was trying to get in good with his original alpha by spying on me to see if I had the Were artifact that had instigated the kidnapping attempt was crap. Everyone believed that it had gone over the Mackinac Bridge, though in truth it was hidden in Davids cat box.
Jenks cleared his throat, and when I glanced at him, he rubbed his thumb and fingers together in the universal indication of money. My eyes followed his to Glenn.
Hey, I said, shifting in my seat, this pays, right? Glenn smiled, and, irritated, I sharpened my voice. It does pay, right?
Chuckling, the F.I.B. detective glanced in the rearview mirror at Brett and nodded. Why he started, and I interrupted.
He wants into my pack, and David is balking, I said. Whats so important about this body that you need me to look at it? Im a lousy detective. Its not what I do.
Glenns square face was heavy with concern as he looked back at me from the Were behind us. Shes a Were. The I.S. says suicide, but I think its murder and theyre covering it up.
I let the air pressure push my hand up and then down, enjoying the breeze in my shower-damp hair and the feel of my bracelet sliding against my skin. The I.S. is covering up a murder? Big surprise there. Jenks looked happy, silent now that we were working and the question of money had been raised, though not settled. Standard consultant fee, I said.
Five hundred a day plus expenses, Glenn said, and I laughed.
Try double that, ketchup boy. I have insurance to pay. And a church to sanctify, and a living room to repair.
Glenns attention on the road went distant. For two hours of your time, that would be what? Two-fifty?
Crap. He wanted to go hourly. I frowned, and Jenkss wings slowed to nothing. That might pay for the paneling and the guys to put it in. Maybe.
Okay, I said, digging through my bag to find the calendar datebook that Ivy had given me last year. It wasnt accurate anymore, but the pages were blank and I needed somewhere to keep track of my time. But you can expect an itemized bill.
Glenn grinned. What? I said, squinting from the come-and-go sun.
He lifted one shoulder and let it fall. You look soorganized, he said, and when Jenks snickered, I flung my hand out and bopped Glenn on the shoulder with the back of my fist.
Just for that, no more ketchup for you, I muttered, slouching. His grip on the wheel tightened, and I knew Id hit a sore spot.
Aw, dont worry, Glenn, Jenks teased. Christmas is coming. Ill get you a jar of belly-buster jalapeño that will knock your socks off if Rachel wont pimp tomatoes to you anymore.
Glenn shot me a sideways look. Um, actually, Ive got a list, he said, fumbling in an inner coat pocket to bring out a narrow strip of paper with his distinctive, precise handwriting on it. My eyebrows rose as I took it: hot ketchup, spicy BBQ sauce, tomato paste, salsa. His usual.
You need a new pair of cuffs, right? he said nervously.
Yeah, I said, suddenly a lot more awake. But if you can get a hold of some of those zip-strips the I.S. uses to keep ley line witches from invoking their magic, thatd be great.
Ill see what I can do, he said, and I bobbed my head, satisfied.
Though Glenns stiff neck said he was uncomfortable bartering law-enforcement tools for ketchup, I thought it funny that the stoic, straitlaced human was too embarrassed to walk into a store that sold tomatoes. Humanity avoided them like the plague, which was understandable, seeing as a tomato had carried the virus that killed a sizable portion of their population four decades ago and revealed the supernatural species previously hidden by the sheer numbers of humans. But he had been forced into eating pizza, real pizza, not the Alfredo crap that humans serve, and it had been all downhill from there.
I wasnt going to give him a hard time about it. We all had our fears. The fact that Glenns was that he craved something every other human on the planet shunned was the least of my worries. And if it got me some zip-strips that might someday save my life, I thought as I settled back into the leather seats, then its a secret well kept.
The morgue was quiet and cool, a quick shift from July to September, and I was glad I had jeans on. My sandals popped against the dirty cement steps as I descended sideways, and the fluorescent light in the stairway only added to the bleak feeling. Jenks was on my shoulder for the warmth, and Glenn made a quick turn to the right when he reached the landing, following the big blue arrows painted on the walls past wide elevators and to the double doors cheerfully proclaiming CINCINNATI MORGUE, AN EQUAL-OPPORTUNITY SERVICE SINCE 1966.
Between the underground dimness and Glenns coffee still in my grip, I was feeling better, but most of my good mood was from the honest-to-God temp name tag Glenn had handed me when we started down the steps. It wasnt the bent, nasty, yellow laminated four-by-six card everyone else got but a real heavyweight plastic tag embossed with my name. Jenks had one, too, and he was obnoxiously proud of it even though I was the one wearing it, right under mine. It would get me into the morgue when nothing else would. Well, besides being dead.
I didnt do much for the F.I.B., but somehow I had become their darling, the poor little witch girl who fled the
I.S. tyranny to make her own way. They were the ones who had given me my car in lieu of monetary compensation when the I.S. called foul after I helped the F.I.B. solve a crime that I.S. hadnt been able to. It had since been ruled that because I wasnt on the F.I.B. s payroll, the F.I.B. could hire me much as any corporation or individual could. Nana, na, na-a-a, na.
It was the small things that really made your day.
Glenn pushed open one of the double doors, standing aside so I could go in first. Flip-flops plopping, I scanned the large reception room, more rectangle than square, half of it empty floor, half upright file cabinets and an ugly steel desk that should have been thrown away in the seventies. A college-age kid wearing a lab coat was behind it, his feet on the paper-cluttered desk and a handheld game in his hands. A sheet-draped gurney holding a body waited for attention, but apparently some space aliens needed taking care of first.
The blond kid looked up at our entrance and, after giving me the once-over, set his game down and stood. It smelled in here: pine and dead tissue. Yuck.
Yo, Iceman, Glenn said, and Jenks grunted in surprise when the straitlaced F.I.B. detective exchanged a complicated arm-, fist-, elbow-slappingthing with the guy at the desk.
Glenn, the blond kid said, still giving me glances, youve got about ten minutes.
Glenn slipped him a fifty, and Jenks choked. Thanks. I owe you.
You cool. Just make it fast. He handed Glenn a key chained to a naked Bite-Me-Betty doll. No way would anyone be walking out with the morgue key.
I gave him an ambiguous smile and headed for another set of double doors.
Miss! the kid called, his adopted colorful accent dissolving into farm-boy Americana.
Jenks snickered. Someone wants a date.
Sandals scuffing, I turned to find Iceman following us. Ms. Morgan, the guy said, his eyes dropping to my twin name tags. If you dont mind. Could you leave your coffee out here? At my blank look, he added, It might wake someone up early, and with the vamp orderly out getting lunch, it wouldHe winced. It might be bad.
My lips parted in understanding. Sure, I said, handing it to him. No problem.
Immediately he relaxed. Thanks. He turned back to his desk, then hesitated. Ah, you arent Rachel Morgan, the runner, are you?
From my shoulder Jenks sniggered. My, arent we the famous one.
But I beamed, facing the kid fully as Glenn fidgeted. He could wait. I wasnt often recognizedand it was even more rarely that I didnt have to run away when I was. Yes, I am, I said, enthusiastically shaking his hand. Pleased to meet you.
Icemans hands were warm, and his eyes gave away his delight. Ace, he said, jiggling on his feet. Wait here. Ive got something for you.
Glenns grip on the Bite-Me-Betty doll tightened until he realized where his fingers were, and he shifted his grip to the tiny key. Iceman had gone back to his desk and was rummaging in a drawer. Its here, he said. Give me a sec. Jenks started humming the tune to Jeopardy!, finishing when the kid slammed the drawer triumphantly. Got it. He jogged back to us, and I felt my face lose its expression when I saw what he was extending proudly to me. A toe tag?
Jenks left my shoulder, shocking Iceman out of a years growth when he landed on my wrist so he could see it. I dont think hed even known that Jenks was here. Holy crap, Rachel! Jenks exclaimed. Its got your name on it! In ink, even. He lifted into the air, laughing. Isnt that sweet? he mocked, but the guy was too flustered to notice.
A toe tag? I held it loosely in my hand, bemused. Uh, thanks, I managed.
Glenn made a derisive noise from deep in his chest. I was starting to feel like the butt of a joke when Iceman grinned and said, I was working the night that boat exploded last Christmas? I made it up for you, but you never came in. I kept it as a souvenir. His clean-cut face suddenly went nervous. Iuh, thought you might want it.
Relaxing in understanding, I tucked it in my bag. Yes, thank you, I said, then touched his shoulder so hed know it was okay. Thank you very much.
Can we go in now? Glenn grumbled, and Iceman gave me an embarrassed smile before returning to his desk, steps fast to make his open lab coat furl. Sighing, the FIB detective pushed open one of the double doors for me.
Actually, I was really glad to have the toe tag. It had been made with the intent for use and therefore was imbued with a strong connection that a ley line charm could use to target me. Better I have it than someone else. Id get rid of it safely when I had the time.
Past the door was another, to make an airlock of sorts. The smell of dead things grew, and Jenks landed on my shoulder, standing right by my ear and the dab of perfume Id put on earlier. Spend a lot of time down here? I asked Glenn as we entered the morgue proper.
Fair amount. He wasnt looking at me, more interested in the numbers and index cards slid into the holders fastened to the people-size drawer doors. I was getting the creeps. Id never been to the city morgue before, and I dubiously eyed the arrangement of comfortable chairs around a coffee table at the far end that looked like a reception area at a doctors office.
The room was long, having four rows of drawers on either side of the wide middle space. It was storage and self-repair only, no autopsies, necropsies, or assisted tissue repair. Humans on one side, Inderlanders on the other, though Ivy had told me they all had pull tabs inside in case of accidental misfiling.
I followed Glenn to midway down the Inderland side, watching him double-check the card against a slip of paper before unlocking the door and yanking it open. Came in Monday, he said over the sound of sliding metal as the tray slid out. Iceman didnt like the attention given to her, so he gave me a call.
Monday. As in yesterday? The full moon isnt until next week, I said, avoiding the sheet-draped body. Isnt that early for a Were suicide?
I met his deep brown eyes, reading a sad understanding. Thats what I thought, too.
Not knowing what I would see, I looked down as Glenn folded the sheet back.
Holy crap! Jenks exclaimed. Mr. Rays secretary?
A sour expression fixed on me. When had being a secretary become a high-risk position? No way had Vanessa committed suicide. She wasnt an alpha, but she was pretty damn close.
Glenns surprise turned to understanding. Thats right, his low voice rumbled. You stole that fish from Mr. Rays office.
Irritation flickered through me. I thought I was rescuing it. And it wasnt his fish. David said Mr. Ray stole it first.
Eyebrows bunched, Glenn seemed to think it made no difference. She came in as a wolf, he was saying, his manner professional as his eyes lit on only the bruised and torn parts of her naked body. A small but gorgeous koi tattoo swam in orange and black across a high patch of her upper chest, a permanent sign of her inclusion into the Ray pack. Standard procedure is to turn them back after the first look. Its easier to find the cause of death on a person than on a wolf.
The smell of dead things in a pine forest was getting to me. It didnt help that I was running on empty. The coffee wasnt setting well anymore. And Id known the SOP, having briefly dated a guy who made the charms to force a shift back to human. He was a geek, but he had lots of moneyit wasnt an easy job, and no one wanted it.
Jenks was making a cold spot on my neck, and not seeing anything out of the ordinaryother than her being dead and her arm torn to the boneI murmured, What am I looking at?