Eternal Hearts (2 page)

“Thanks, Odin. I appreciate it.”

“No problem, man. Give me about ten minutes.”

When he felt the mind link break, Drake rubbed his hands down his face. If he traveled the shadows they’d deposit him on the roof in roughly ten minutes, which meant if Odin showed up on time he could probably get two slices of pizza and two beers in his stomach before the Folder Gopher appeared with his new contract. Not exactly a filling meal, but at least it would make for a good snack.

Hell, at this point he’d take whatever he could get.

He cast one last glance over the quiet room to make sure everything was in order, but closed his eyes when an all too familiar sensation tugged at the top of his spine. For just the briefest of moments, he felt bad. Felt bad for the vampires who’d never exist again, bad because their fate had been purchased, but worse because it’d been carried out by his hand.

The feeling shouldn’t have been a surprise. Just like everything else that was the same about what had happened, almost every time he finished a contract he wondered what his life would be like if he wasn’t who he was. If he wasn’t
what
he was. But much like every time previous, he worked a few circles with his shoulders and gave himself a stern reminder that this was his life. This was what he excelled at…

This was the only thing he’d ever been good at.

Drake pushed the thoughts from his mind as he summoned the darkness back to him. When he felt the familiar blanket of icy shadows wrap around his body, he concentrated on his home in southern Chicago. It took a few minutes for the image to fully materialize, but once it did he moved north towards the Loop until The Rivers Building came into view. From there, he focused on the building across the street and stepped out of the darkness just as he passed over the roof.

His boots had barely touched the concrete when a gust of cold wind rushed past him, nearly knocking him over. He planted a hand on the thigh high concrete wall bordering the roof as fresh snow spiraled everywhere, including but not limited to, all over his face and up his nose.

“Incoming!”

He shook his head as Odin landed in front of him a couple seconds later, quiet as a feather. “You do know that screaming your fool head off completely negates the purpose of a silent landing, right?”

Odin nodded. “I know, but it’s more fun that way.” He turned a slow circle and frowned. “Drake, why am I delivering pizza to a rooftop in the middle of February?”

Drake stared at his friend for a moment then burst out laughing. Had the innocent sounding question been asked by anyone else, it wouldn’t have been nearly as funny. However, considering Odin stood only a few feet away garbed in the jet black armor of an evil, undead warlord – the question was freaking hilarious.

“What?” Odin asked. He blinked his blacked-out eyes a few times. “What’d I say?”

“It’s not what you said,” Drake managed to choke out between short bursts of laughter. “It’s how you said it. You sounded like a lost little kid.”

Odin scrunched up his face as he gently set his box of pizza on the ledge next to him. “It seemed like a good question at the time. But I see how it’s gonna be. Ask me to bring you dinner again and see what happens.” He dropped a case of beer on the concrete between them, the clank of the glass bottles serving as the perfect punctuation to his sentence.

Drake smiled. Only Odin would be so dramatic, or so careless with the safety of his beer. “Okay, fine. You’re delivering pizza here because this is where Jake told me to meet him. Feel better now?”

“Yes,” Odin sighed as he flipped open the lid of the pizza box. “I know you were probably hoping for Chicago style, but I was still in New York when you called.” He lifted a huge slice and smiled at the long strings of cheese he created. “I love Chicago, I really do…but New York makes the best pie.” He slurped up a strand of cheese like a spaghetti noodle. “So how’d the Detroit contract go? You got another one already?”

“Of course I have another one already,” Drake said as he liberated a bottle of beer from the cardboard so rudely holding it captive. “And the Detroit contract went the same as all the others – somebody died.” He twisted off the bottle cap and took a big swig, enjoying the bitter taste of the ice cold liquid as it rolled across his tongue. “Thanks again for grabbing the food. I wasn’t sure I’d have time.” He cast a glance down to the empty street twenty-five stories below them. “The Folder Gopher should be here in about fifteen minutes or so.”

“No problem,” Odin offered between bites. “You know who you’re supposed to kill next?”

Drake set his beer on the ledge then checked his watch. “I don’t have all the details yet, but my new mark’s due at The Rivers in a little over an hour.” He reached over and picked up a slice of pizza, used a finger to break the cheese strings, then piled them back on top before he folded it in half. “Who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll be late.”

Odin chuckled. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and they’ll just kill themselves.”

Drake picked up his beer and tipped it towards Odin. “I think I like where your head’s at.”

“As long as it’s still attached to my shoulders,” Odin said as he grabbed a beer from the case and opened it, “you should always like where my head’s at.” He sat down on the ledge. “So have you gotten any sleep since the last time we talked?”

Drake shook his head. “Not yet, but maybe after this job they’ll give me a break.”

“Maybe after this one they’ll give you a damn vacation.”

Drake smiled at his friend. “Maybe, but I’m not counting on it.”

Odin shot him a serious, almost fatherly glare of disapproval. “They do realize you still need to sleep, right? How many contracts have you fulfilled in the last couple weeks anyway?”

“Aside from the one for your brother…I think this makes twelve.”

“Jesus, Drake. Let me give you a little piece of advice. Learn to say no.”

Drake blew out a heavy breath. If only it were that easy. “I don’t get a refusal clause.”

“You need to renegotiate for better benefits.”

“Yeah…I’ll call my union rep and have him get right on that. Maybe he can get me some company paid health insurance while he’s at it.”

When the rumble of an engine sounded on the street below, Drake leaned over the ledge hoping to see Jake’s new Beamer. Unfortunately, what he saw instead was a classic Trans-Am pulling into the small parking lot next to The Rivers Building.

He dropped his empty beer bottle into the case and pulled out another. “I bet you five hundred dollars that Jake doesn’t show up on time. Care to place a wager on his behalf?”

“Nope,” Odin said as he spun around so his legs dangled over the edge of the roof. “That mouthy bastard’s always late. Besides, I’m in deep enough as it is. I already owe you two cars, a goldfish, and a half a million dollars.” He arched a brow as he peered down at the street. “Now what do you suppose she’s doing?” He kicked his armored legs in excitement. “You think she’s gonna rob the place?”

Drake followed Odin’s line of sight down to the sidewalk in front of The Rivers Building, where a dark-haired Spanish woman now stood, her shoulders somewhat slumped, hands balled into fists at her sides. From his vantage point, she looked as though she was staring through the glass frontage at someone or something inside the lobby.

“Nah, I doubt she’s gonna rob the place. She’s too tense.”

“How do you know that?” Odin asked.

He motioned towards their would-be robber. “She doesn’t have anything to break the glass with. If you’re gonna hit a building in downtown Chicago, you need tools. She’s also standing in one place and her head’s not moving. She’s not looking around to see if anyone’s watching, she’s just standing there, like she’s been there before or is waiting for something. Plus, any thief worth her blood doesn’t stand in front of the building she’s about to rip so everyone and their mother can get a good look at her. The point of the job is to get what you came for and get out, not end up on the morning news.”

“Worth her blood?”
Odin asked with a sneer.

Drake rolled his eyes. “She’s a vampire, you blind bastard.”

Odin gasped. “She is not.”

“Yes she is.” He pointed down at her. “Her shoulders rise and fall the way they should when someone breathes, but there’s no steam rising above her head at regular intervals. That tells me she’s the same temperature as the air around her. And if that ain’t enough to convince you, she’s standing outside, in Chicago, in the middle of February, while there’s snow everywhere, and all she’s wearing is a t-shirt, jeans and some boots. Normal people wear coats when they go outside in the winter.”

Odin knocked on his chest plate. “I’m not wearing a coat.”

Drake turned and cast a glance over the expanse of the roof before he focused back on his crazy friend. “You’re an Ancient vampire, Odin. You don’t count as normal people.”

His mouth gaped open. “What? What? The hell you say!” He cackled for a few seconds then stopped rather abruptly. “You can really see all those little details from this far up?”

“Hell yes I can. Can’t you?”

He cracked a cheesy grin. “Of course I can, I just didn’t realize you could.” He rubbed his hands together and bowed his head.
“Most impressive, Young-But-Mighty-Grasshopper.”

Drake flipped him the bird. “I should push you off the damn ledge.”

“Go ahead.” He flapped his arms. “I can fly. Wanna see my wings?”

Drake reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. He really needed to find more mature friends. He opened his mouth to express that exact thought but stopped when the door to the roof
creaked
open behind him.

“You better be up here already,” grumbled an irritated voice.

Drake turned around just in time to see the hem of Jake’s dark blue overcoat get stuck as a blast of cold wind slammed the door closed. He tried not to laugh as the Folder Gopher was yanked backwards, lost his balance, and then nearly dropped the dozen or so manila folders clutched tightly in his hand.

“Serves you right,” Odin laughed. “Talk some more trash like that and see what blows off the roof next.” He shifted his gaze to Drake. “You think Folder Gophers can fly? I’m
guessin
’ not. I’m
guessin
’ they sink like lead balloon animals.”

Jake tugged his coat free from the door then shot Odin a nasty glare. “
Do that
shit with the wind one more time and it’ll be your picture in the next folder I deliver to Drake.”

Odin completely ignored Jake’s threat and continued to stare at Drake. “Feel free to do your business. I’m just gonna sit here and watch the dead chick.”

Drake smiled when Jake’s angry glare landed on him. “Wow. You actually made it here early. Are you feeling okay?”

Jake flipped through the small stack of folders then pulled out one near the bottom. “Am I feeling okay?” He shook the folder in Drake’s general direction, a wild look in his eyes. “I’ve been delivering contracts for the last five hours straight because it would appear everyone in the free world suddenly wants some undead slut of the night or hairy
shapeshifter
dead. So, no! I’m not feeling okay.”

Odin snorted behind Drake, so loud, he was sure the people in the next state heard it.
“Undead slut of the night.
That’s awesome. I’m so gonna use that the next time I see his mom.”

Jake let out a sigh as a look of complete resignation washed over his face. “Are we gonna start with the mom jokes again? Because, seriously, like I told you the last time, my mom’s dead. She’s been dead for over three hundred years. You need to get some new material.”

Drake snapped his fingers then pointed at the folder he could only assume belonged to him. If he let the two of them go on any longer, he might never get off of the roof. “How ‘bout you just tell me about my mark?”