Blood Tally

Chapter 12

I arrived at Olivia’s house at about three in the afternoon, somewhat less pissed but still on the war path. This, I kept telling myself, is why no one trusts witches. This is why no professional in their right mind would ever get involved with a witch in any capacity. Why can’t they just keep themselves to themselves?

My ranting inner monologue was interrupted when I was almost to the front door and Maggie said, Heads up. That black Suburban you parked behind wasn’t here last time. I don’t think it’s Olivia’s car, which means she’s not alone.

I don’t really care if she’s with a client, I grunted back, though I did force myself to slow down a little bit, coming to a stop on the front step to gather myself for the coming confrontation. I wasn’t, I’d decided, going to punch in her the face. But we were going to have a very strong conversation. It was while I was considering this that I heard the voices inside.

Olivia might have her house warded tightly and the curtains drawn, but the windows were original to the house – single pane – and let out quite a bit of muffled sound. I glanced around the neighborhood to make sure none of the neighbors were outside before leaning toward the window. I recognized Olivia’s voice, though I couldn’t understand quite what she was saying. From her tone, she was explaining something with the exaggerated patience of a parent. A male voice answered her, sounding quite irritated. A different male voice chimed in something, but the first bowled it over without stopping.

Any idea what they’re saying? I asked Maggie.

Not a clue. These wards are even better than I thought.

Are you really that impressed?

Clearly.

Do you have a crush on Olivia? I asked.

Maggie cleared her throat. Maybe a little one.

I rolled my eyes and pounded on the door. The voices all stopped. I could hear footsteps come closer to the door, but not quite up to it.

“Who is it?” I heard that first male voice ask. “Why don’t you have a peephole?”

Olivia replied in that muffled voice that I couldn’t quite understand. She was on the other side of the room, maybe sitting on the couch.

The man said, “Damn it, why would you rely on sorcery for something like that? This is the twenty-first century, isn’t it? All right, get over here and get rid of whoever it is.” Another male voice said something, to which this one replied, “No, I’m not going to look out the window. They’ll see me!”

Something super weird is going on in there, Maggie said. I’m taking a closer look, and some of those wards that were here last week are missing.

Which ones?

The wards against weapons and sorcery. Olivia is defenseless right now.

That couldn’t mean anything good. In a few quick motions I drew the Glock out of my endless wallet, checked the safety, and stuffed it into my belt on the small of my back. I heard footsteps cross the living room and then Olivia’s voice came through the door.

“Sorry, we’re closed!”

I almost replied, thought better of it, and just pounded on the door again.

“Closed!” she yelled.

I pounded again.

The door swung open. “Damn it, when I say we’re closed, it means – what the hell are you doing here?” Olivia stared at me, open-mouthed. She was wearing the same short cutoff jeans and ratty Jack Daniel’s T-shirt as yesterday, with new splotches of paint on both of them. She struck a good figure with that grungy look, but I forced myself to look over her shoulder. I spotted a tall, gangly man wearing a black sweater and slacks despite the heat and unsuccessfully looking for a place to hide in the kitchen. He turned, saw that he’d been spotted, and snarled at me. The snarl turned into a hiss as his eyes widened.

“It’s him!” he barked, leaping toward me. “Grab him!”

Before I could so much as reach for my Glock, I felt something cold touch my throat. I stiffened involuntarily, raising my hands, palm outward, out of reflex.

That fucker has a sword, Maggie sighed. Shit, I think all of them do.

Who is them? I demanded. Before she could answer, Olivia was shoved aside and someone snatched me by the shoulder, pulling me inside. The door was slammed behind me, and I found myself standing with my back to Olivia’s front door and surrounded by three humanoid figures. The one to my right had a long, slender sword – a rapier, maybe – to my neck. The one on my left also had a rapier drawn and was waving it around as if he didn’t quite know what to do with it. The third – the tall, gangly one – still had his sword at his belt. He stood in the kitchen, looking at me unhappily. Even once my eyes began to adjust to the lower light of the living room, he was so tall and thin to be almost otherworldly. He had the unmistakable pink-eye look of a vampire and, glancing sidelong at his companions, I could now see that they did too.

“Well,” I said aloud, “this is awkward.”

“Yes,” the tall one said. “Yes, it is.” He growled softly.

Are there only these three? I asked Maggie.

Yes.

Who the hell are they?

Fuck if I know. But they definitely know who you are.

I sighed, glancing at the one holding the rapier to my neck. “You mind?”

Vampire number two hesitated, glancing toward the tall one, who made a calming gesture. The sword was lowered but held at the ready.

I rubbed my throat gently. “You gonna introduce yourselves?” I demanded. I’d been threatened so many times in my life that the whole sword at the neck thing didn’t really phase me all that much – which probably reflects poorly on my life choices.

The tall one’s lip curled. He seemed very put out by the entire situation, and I was still trying to figure out why. He said, “My name is Adrian. You are the reaper Alek Fitz.” I glanced sidelong at Olivia. She’d been shuffled to one corner of the living room. She appeared just as irritated as Adrian, but I could see fear in her eyes. I smoothed my T-shirt, pulling it down so my new vampire friends couldn’t see the gun stuck in my belt.

You’re sure that the ward against weaponry has been dropped?

Definitely sure. I’m guessing Olivia wouldn’t dispel a ward like that by her own free will.

Adrian continued, “Why are you here?”

“I’m here,” I said, turning toward Olivia, “to find out why the witch is trying to scry me.”

One of Adrian’s companions inhaled sharply. Olivia’s eyes widened slightly. Before she could answer, Adrian cut in. “You knew that she scryed you?”

“Reaper trick,” I grinned at him. “Professionals don’t like being spied on. You have something to do with this?”

“It definitely wasn’t my idea,” Olivia said, glaring at Adrian.

Adrian turned toward Olivia, then back toward me, frowning to himself. He stepped away, into the kitchen, pulling out a cell phone. Listen in on that, I said to Maggie. I glanced back toward Olivia. “You want to explain yourself?”

Her jaw tightened and she glanced significantly toward Adrian, then at the two other vampires still holding their swords, looking uncertain as to what they were meant to do. Olivia took a deep breath and said in a quiet voice, “Sorry about the scrying. They didn’t really give me a choice.”

“How did you even do that?”

“You left a hair on the couch yesterday. It’s pretty common. People leave little bits of themselves everywhere they go.” Olivia’s chin was still lifted in that defiant way, but she looked even more uncertain than when she answered the door.

I felt a little guilty for all the nasty things I’d been thinking about her – and witches in general – on my way over here. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m fine.”

I didn’t need Maggie to tell me she was lying. I turned to the vampires. “And how did you two assholes know I’d even been here?” I asked. The pair glanced at each other, toward their boss still on his phone in the kitchen, and then back at me. One shrugged. Neither answered. Something clicked in the back of my head. “Have you been following me?” If so, they must have been pretty good at it to keep Maggie from getting a whiff of them. Mags, do you have any idea who Adrian is talking to?

Yeah, and you’re not going to like it.

So?

It’s Jacques Williams. These are Lord Ruthven’s goons.

Motherfu–

There’s more. Jacques just told them to kill Olivia.

Before I could ask for more details, Adrian suddenly hung up his phone and returned to the living room, looking somewhat peeved. “Your arrival here has complicated things,” he said. To his companions, “We have our instructions. Get rid of the girl.”

“Whoa!” I held up both hands. “You’re just going to kill her?”

“This is too important to leave a trail,” Adrian said. “We have instructions to clean up. She’s a covenless witch. No one will miss her.”

I looked with alarm toward Olivia, wondering if I could draw my Glock faster than a vampire could move. To my surprise, Olivia was quicker than either of us. She suddenly collapsed, as if fainting, toward her sofa. The vampire next to her moved out of reflex, going to catch her, but Olivia produced something from beneath a cushion and jabbed upward. The vampire gurgled, clutching at his throat, and staggered back.

Several other things happened at once. The second vampire lifted his sword, leaping across me with the point toward Olivia. My tattoo of Mjolnir flared to life and I rabbit-punched him in the side of his head. He dropped like a sack of potatoes, thumping to the floor. Adrian drew his own sword, looked at his two companions, and suddenly made a break toward the back door. I drew my Glock in one smooth motion, firing twice. The tinkling sound of breaking glass – my magical silencer – filled the room. Adrian stumbled, hitting the back door hard. He managed to get it open and stagger outside. I made to follow, but Olivia was suddenly at my side, restraining me with a hand on my shoulder.

Her hands and arms were covered in blood, her face red, her eyes misty and furious. “Wait,” she told me. “Rocky hasn’t eaten all week.”

Adrian managed three steps down the back garden path when a piece of granite the size of a mailbox hit him from above, turning his head and the bulk of his torso into a crimson smear. It took me a moment to realize that the granite was the fist of Olivia’s garden-alarm rock golem. The creature leaned hard on what was left of Adrian, grinding him into pulp on the garden path, then looked through the door at Olivia.

“It’s fine,” she told him in a soothing voice. “That’s a good boy.”

The rock golem scooped up what was left of Adrian and shambled off.

I tucked my Glock back into my belt and checked the two other vampires. Mjolnir had collapsed the side of one’s skull. He was very dead. The other had been stabbed in the throat by a little silver spike, which Olivia still clutched in one hand, and was noisily dying on the living room floor.

“I’m going to need a new carpet,” she said. “Here, get his legs.”

I had a lot of questions, but having just participated in the murder of three of a Vampire Lord’s servants, I didn’t really feel like any of them were very important. I grabbed him by his legs, Olivia by his arms, and the two of us carried him out into the garden. He was still gurgling when we tossed him onto the compost pile in the corner. Rocky was sitting beside the compost pile, blood on his granite fists. I followed Olivia back inside, and when we returned with the body of the vampire I’d killed, there was nothing left of the first. Rocky, however, looked somehow more content.

“You have vampire blood on your arms,” I pointed out. “Also your left leg, just above the knee.”

Olivia wiped off her leg with a dishtowel, then washed her hands. “Water?” she asked. There were smears of Adrian’s blood on the kitchen linoleum. I stepped over them and looked around. Everything in the kitchen was still taped off for her paint job.

“Sure?”

She’s in shock, Maggie told me. She’s a cool customer – that’s a great way to get rid of bodies – but I bet she doesn’t do that very often.

Olivia handed me a glass of water from the sink and poured herself one.

“You okay?” I asked.

She stared at the opposite wall, sipping her water until it was gone. She took a deep breath, shuddered, and looked around. “Shit.” Her blinking gaze finally found me. “Shit. Shit. Shit. I don’t know how the fuck you knew it was me who did the scrying, but I’m glad you came to yell at me.”

“Yeah,” I told her truthfully. “Me too.” I was almost certain that even if I hadn’t showed up, Olivia would have ended up dead. I wanted to ask myself why, but I already knew. It was Boris’s damned blood tally. Lord Ruthven didn’t just want those contracts – he didn’t want anyone knowing that he had them. Olivia suddenly pushed herself away from the sink. Before I could ask where she was going, she stalked past me and into one of the back bedrooms.

“Look,” I called after her, “I think you might want to stay somewhere else for a couple of days. Or weeks.”

“Way ahead of you,” she responded from her bedroom. She emerged a minute later with a duffel bag and spent the next few minutes rushing around both bedrooms and her living room, throwing stuff into the bag. She emerged a final time, having changed into jeans and a fresh T-shirt, and tossed the full duffel bag onto the couch before attacking the floor with a razor blade. I pitched in to help, and within minutes we’d taken up a six-foot-by-six-foot piece of carpet and padding. Both went onto the compost pile. She mopped up the blood in the kitchen with a sponge and bleach and added the sponge to the compost pile as well. Finally, she looked around the small house, wincing. “This is going to put me back months. Oh well. Let’s go.”

“Let’s … ?” I asked.

She glared up at me. She was still a little misty-eyed still, but determined. Also very, very annoyed. She might be a civilian, but I’d also just watched her shank a vampire without hesitation. That took balls, and I already knew Maggie was impressed. Well, me too.

“I’m staying with you,” she said. “Hope you’ve got a couch or an air mattress or something.”

There was something deeply appealing about Olivia staying with me for a while, but I kept my head about me. “I … don’t know if that’s a good idea. Do you know who those guys were?”

“Lord Ruthven’s goons. Yeah, they told me. You scared of a Vampire Lord?” There was that same “challenging authority” look in her eyes from the first time we’d met.

I held up one finger. “First, yes. I am. He’s a fucking Vampire Lord. Second, I’m about to do something to piss him off really bad, and I don’t think you want to be around me when that happens. In fact, they’re probably going to forget all about you soon enough. I know of a safe house I can put you in …” I trailed off as Olivia locked the back door, then walked out the front and waited for me expectantly. I followed her out. She locked it, made a handful of arcane gestures on the front door, then whistled loudly. A little bit of gravel scooted across the front walk and she leaned down and spoke to it like a puppy.

“Okay, Rocky. You’re the man of the house while I’m away. You can eat vampires, but no one else. Hear me?” Seemingly satisfied, she shot me a glare and walked toward my truck, tossing her duffel into the bed. “I’m staying with you,” she said again. “This is about that Michael Pavlovich thing, right? You still need to find him?”

“Yes,” I said hesitantly. “But it’s more complicated now than it was yesterday.” A little help here, I said to Maggie.

What do you think I’m going to do? Talk sense into her? You’re on your own, bud.

Olivia folded her arms. “I still have my rolling scry on Michael. I stay with you, and we find Michael. Is that going to make all this vampire stuff go away?”

I genuinely can’t tell if she’s courageous, still in shock, or just really stupid, I told Maggie. To Olivia, I said, “Maybe.”

“Well, maybe is the best I’m gonna get right now. I was just forced to kill three vampires in my own house in self-defense. I don’t have a coven, or any friends that would have a prayer standing up to a Vampire Lord. So I’m going to stay with my new best friend Mr. Punchy McReaper Agent until I’ve calmed down. Okay?” She opened the passenger door of my truck and got in.

I like her, Maggie laughed.

I do too, but I don’t think this is the time … I opened my mouth, ready to take the argument further, when my phone began to ring. I looked down. It was Jacques Williams. I sprinted for my truck, jumping in and shoving the key in the ignition. “Okay,” I told Olivia, “you win. But we’re getting out of here really fucking fast.”