Dead Streets (6 page)

  Bogdan frowned at the demon, but Devona cut him off before he could reply. "Was there anything we could've done differently to deal with Overkill? Of course. There's always room for improvement, but that's not important right now. What matters is we got the job done and that's enough for one night. Let's save the post mortem for another time, shall we?"

  She gave Bogdan a smile to take the sting out of her words and the warlock responded with a courtly half bow that, if I still had a gag reflex, would've made me want to vomit on the spot.

  "Of course, Devona," he said. "It's probably a good idea that you don't work anymore tonight anyway. After the injury you sustained you could use some rest. Magical healing can only do so much you know." The warlock then gave her a wink and Devona actually blushed a little. Considering how pale she is even a mild blush looked like fiery explosions beneath her skin.

  I ground my teeth so hard I thought I might have to visit a zombie dentist.

  Bogdan begged off accompanying Scorch back to Sinsation. Tavi tried to escape as well, but Scorch wasn't about to be denied twice. She hooked her arm in his and, since she was far stronger than the shapeshifter even while wearing the guise of a preteen girl, he had no choice but to allow her to drag him off in search of further excitement. Given the sort of activities a demon considers fun I hoped the lyke survived the night.

  That left Bogdan, Devona and me – and you know what they say about three being a crowd? Well, evidently Bogdan had never heard of the phrase for he sat down on the couch next to Devona, laying his arm across the back, almost but not quite putting it around her. At that point I was a very unhappy dead man.

  "You were really the star tonight," Bogdan said to Devona. "It was the security spell you placed on the club's entrance that prevented Overkill from simply waltzing out of there with Scream Queen's voice. It was extremely sophisticated spellcraft, worthy of one of my own people. Very few non-Arcane can work magic of that level. It was most impressive."

  The warlock scooted an inch closer to Devona. If she noticed, she didn't react. Maybe, I told myself, she didn't react because she liked the idea of Bogdan – a living man – getting closer to her.

  Don't be an idiot, I told myself. You know how Devona feels about you.

  Still, there are a lot of disadvantages to being dead and one of them is that I'm not exactly fully functional in certain key areas, if you get my drift. And despite the fact that I disliked Bogdan quite a bit at that moment – actually,
loathed
might be a more accurate description of my feelings toward him – I had to admit that he was handsome enough, in a sleazy kind of way. And as sheltered as Devona had been for most of her life she hadn't had a lot of experience with men and might not realize just what a superficial, shallow and manipulative jerk he was. Yeah,
loathed
is definitely the right word.

  "Thank you, Bogdan," she said. "That means a lot, coming from a warlock as accomplished as you are."

  I'd had enough. Beneath my breath, I whispered, "Sic 'em, Rover."

  At first nothing happened, but then Bogdan's red hair began to stir as if tousled by a sourceless breeze. A second later a miniature windstorm erupted in the great room centered, strangely enough, on the couch where Devona and Bogdan sat. They squeezed their eyes shut against the wind and Devona shouted something, but her voice was muffled by the storm's howling. Devona and Bogdan tried to stand, no doubt intending to get away from the couch and the winds that buffeted them, but the small-scale gale was too powerful, and every time they managed to rise off the couch so much as an inch, a fresh gust of air would shove them back down.

  I let this go on for a minute or so before whispering, "That's enough, Rover. Heel."

  The mini windstorm gave a final howl that sounded almost disappointed before finally dissipating. Both Devona and Bogdan's hair was mussed – revealing the beginnings of a bald spot atop the warlock's head I noted with petty satisfaction – and though Devona's leather outfit had weathered the storm just fine, Bogdan's clothes were now rumpled and in dire need of a good pressing.

  "I'm so sorry about that, Bogdan!" Devona said. "I've been working on housebreaking Rover, but as you can see, he still acts up from time to time." She shot me a look then and in an icy tone added, "Doesn't he, Matt?"

  "He does have his high-spirited moments," I said, doing my best to keep my tone neutral.

  When Devona first purchased the Midnight Watch building we'd discovered that the original owner – a powerful warlock named Leander Crosswise who specialized in security magic – had created a guardian creature for his establishment by granting a level of sentience to a wardspell. Unfortunately for Crosswise when he decided to retire and sell the business the guardian had decided that the warlock had become a threat to the place it was supposed to protect and it killed its creator. The building gained a reputation for being haunted after that, especially since the guardian attacked anyone who considered purchasing the place, and the Midnight Watch building remained empty for decades. The creature had attacked Devona and I when we inspected the property and we'd barely managed to figure out what was happening before the creature destroyed us. We made friends with it, after a fashion, and in a strange way it had become something of a pet to us, hence the name Rover. I'd never been much on having pets when I was alive, but for whatever reason Rover and I seemed to get along pretty well and I could usually count on him to listen to me – especially if I encouraged him to misbehave. In many ways he was just a big puppy. A big disembodied puppy formed of mystic energy that had killed his first master and any number of potential buyers that had been foolish enough to inspect the property he guarded over the years, but hey, nobody's perfect. At least he doesn't piddle on the carpet.

  If Bogdan suspected I'd had anything to do with Rover's sudden burst of playfulness he gave no indication. But he didn't look in my direction, either.

  "No need to apologize," he said, reaching out and patting her hand. Earlier that week a street vendor hawking second hand cybernetic implants had tried to sell me a pair of laser emitting eyes. At that moment I wished I'd taken him up on the offer. If I had I'd have focused my ocular energy beams on the warlock's hand and severed it at the wrist. Bogdan went on. "The fact that you've been able to tame the creature to the extent you have is only further testament to your skill with spellcraft."

  I'd had just about all the Bogdan I could take for one evening.

  "I hate to give you the bum's rush, Bogdan, but as you said, Devona should get some rest."

  It was a damned broad hint and I was pleased the warlock didn't miss it. "Of course. Forgive me for prattling on." He rose from the couch then turned to Devona. "Should I return tomorrow at the usual time? I know we don't have another job lined up at the moment, but if you want to get together to discuss our performance this evening…"

  Devona gave me a quick frown before standing and giving Bogdan a smile. "That sounds good. I'll give you, Scorch and Tavi a call tomorrow and we'll set up a meeting time."

  Bogdan had been smiling, but now his smile faltered a bit, as if he were less than thrilled at the prospect of having his fellow employees invited to his meeting with Devona, but his tone remained pleasant enough as he said, "I'll look forward to it. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

  With that the warlock turned and exited the great room, giving me a curt nod of farewell as he passed.

  Devona waited until she heard the front door open and close before speaking.

  "What was
that
all about?"

  Now that Bogdan was gone I was beginning to regret my childish actions toward him and even though I knew I deserved the chewing out Devona was about to give me I still wanted to put it off as long as possible. So I decided to try and change the subject.

  "I've been thinking. Maybe we should continue guarding Scream Queen a while longer. Overkill isn't exactly the type to gracefully accept defeat. There's a chance she might make another attempt to snatch Scream Queen's voice."

  Devona shook her head. "Now that Overkill has failed three times and been exposed as the kidnapper – voicenapper? – she won't try again. Whoever hired her won't risk employing her any longer. What if next time she's captured and forced by the Adjudicators to reveal her employer's identity? No, after tonight Overkill's become a bad risk. Unfortunately that means the only way for her to regain face is to confront the person who forced her to stand down without so much as raising a hand against her."

  "Which would be me."

  Devona nodded. "If anyone needs guarding it's you, Matt. Not Scream Queen. But you know this. You're just trying to avoid talking about your problem with Bogdan."

  Since distraction hadn't worked, I figured I'd give denial a shot.

  "I don't have a problem with Bogdan. As far as I'm concerned he's no better or worse than the others." As soon as the words were out of my mouth I knew I'd screwed up royally.

  Devona had been frowning at me, but now her frown deepened into a truly serious scowl. "What do you mean by that?"

  I was sorely tempted to try summoning Rover again and see if he might blow up another windstorm to distract Devona and allow me to beat a hasty retreat, but I knew she'd never fall for that.

  "This is your business, Devona, and they're your employees. It doesn't matter what I think about them."

  While we'd been talking Devona had remained standing next to the couch, no doubt keeping her distance from me because she was irritated. But her irritation now edged toward anger – I could feel it through our telepathic link – and she walked over to the fireplace where I was standing and fixed me with a look that said I'd better stop jerking her around.

"It matters to me," she said.

  "Uh, could we go back to how I'm an idiot for being jealous of Bogdan?"

  Devona just kept looking at me, and since it was clear that I wasn't going to get out of this, I decided to give it to her straight.

  "You've been running the Midnight Watch for over a month now and you've done a great job. Word that the Watch is open for business again has gotten around the city and people are starting to hire you for some high profile gigs – like tonight."

  "And…?"

  "And so far, so good. When you re-opened the Watch you hired the best employees that you could afford and they did well enough when all you had to do was inspect a business's current security set up and recommend updates or investigate a case of employee theft at a warehouse. But now that you're landing bigger jobs the work is getting more dangerous. And I'm afraid Bogdan, Scorch and Tavi just aren't up to the challenge. Not only did Overkill almost get away tonight the three of them could've easily gotten killed. Sure, they survived, but what about the next time? And what about any innocents who might get hurt because your employees can't do their jobs?"

  As I talked Devona's skin tone had become increasingly darker, changing from a pale white to a faint pink. On a fully human Caucasian woman the new color would've looked natural, but for Devona it was a sure sign that she was getting furious. When she opened her mouth to speak, instead of yelling, she spoke with a cold control. When you grow up in the house of a Darklord you learn to keep a tight rein on your emotions when you speak or else you might not live to reach the end of your sentence.

  "I'll grant you that Bogdan, Tavi and Scorch need more training, but Overkill got the best of me tonight too, Matt. Are you suggesting that I'm not up to the challenge either?"

  At this point I'd have rather gone a few more rounds with Overkill than continue with this conversation and I was desperately searching for an exit strategy.

  "Of course not. Like I said you've done a fantastic job getting the Midnight Watch up and running again. I guess what I'm trying to say is maybe you should think about moving more slowly and not taking on jobs that are too dangerous until your team is ready for them."

  I thought I'd done a decent job of sounding reasonably supportive while trying to climb out of the hole I'd managed to dig for myself. But I realized I'd failed when Devona said, "
Our
team."

  "Huh?"

  "It's
our
team, Matt. You and I run the Midnight Watch together." Her eyes narrowed and I could feel her probing my mind through our telepathic link. "Don't we?"

  Normally I like being linked mind to mind with Devona. It allows us to experience a closeness that I've never known in a relationship before and that closeness allows us to have a physical relationship – simulated on the psychic plane – that would normally be impossible given my biological limitations. But right then I'd have happily severed the link if I'd known how.

  "Devona, you know I'm proud of everything you've accomplished with the Midnight Watch so far and I'll support you in every way I can as you continue to grow the business. But the Watch is yours, Devona. Not mine. I'm happy to help out whenever I can, but I have my own work." I shrugged. "I guess I'm just used to being my own man – or zombie."

  I'd tried to make a joke, but it went over like an explosive burst of flatulence at a funeral. Not only didn't Devona smile, she averted her gaze and I knew that my words had hurt her.

  "Back on Earth you didn't work alone," she said. "You had a partner."

  Dale Ramsey had been my partner when I'd worked homicide in Cleveland. We'd been a team for years until we investigated a series of murders that led us to Nekropolis. Both Dale and I were killed during the investigation, but unfortunately for my partner he didn't rise from the dead afterward like I did. Then again, I sometimes wonder if Dale wasn't the luckier of the two of us.