Maggie Get Your Gun (12 page)

“It’s… interesting…”

“What?”

I put the file down on my lap, “Well, you remember that
little enclave of vampires we destroyed a few weeks ago?”

“Indeed.  As much as I have tried not to.”

“It seems that shortly thereafter there was a spike in
vampire deaths," I clarified, "Not vampire related deaths.  Actual
vampire deaths."

I pulled out a handy little bar graph that some clerical
peon had probably been forced to generate, most likely for some stiflingly dull
slide presentation and handed it over to Killian.

“Could it be a slayer?” he asked.

“It would be awesome if it was,” I replied, “but it doesn’t
look like there are any retaliatory human killings.  Usually you see that sort
of thing if it’s a slayer going around offing vampires en masse.  I haven’t
noticed the vampires unleashing a world of holy hell upon our mortal butts lately.”

Killian leaned back in his seat and stared at the roof of
the car.  I could practically hear the wheels clunking inside his head, “Which
would suggest some of the vampires were not pleased that Vaclav left them to
die in the enclave…  Perhaps we are truly looking at a vampire war.”

“Exceeeept,” I said, pulling out another sheet of paper and
hating that I was about to throw a wrench in the nice little theory that was
unfolding before us, “here’s an accounting of some werewolf deaths.”

“Really…” said Killian, looking over my shoulder.  He
grabbed the page and started scanning it.

“It says here,” said Killian, “there were a great number of
pups and den mothers killed in this attack.”

“Which means someone pissed off the werewolves.”

"It could be the vampires are fighting each other.  It
could be that the werewolves are fighting the vampires."

Killian looked at me, “You said that werewolves attacked
Xiaoming’s apartment while your father was there?”

“They probably thought he was headed over because Xiaoming
actually had the comb.”

“Instead of just information?”

“I learned the man is able to break all world walking rules
I’m aware of and jump in the same plane.  All the way from California to
China.  I would have assumed he had the jade comb, too.”

Killian gave a low whistle, “Remarkable.  I have never
heard of any mortal with that capability.”

“I KNOW!  I’m hoping he does a one-day workshop sometime,”
I turned back to the file, “So, either the werewolves attacked Xiaoming’s to
get the comb for themselves…”

“…or they attacked to get the comb for someone they
believed could address their grievances with their enemy…”

“An enemy they already knew was stronger than they are,” I
finished.

“So, who would be strong enough to go after someone strong
enough to kill a den of werewolves?”

“Vampires,” said Killian and I at the same time.

“Jinx,” Killian said.  “You owe me.”

I started up the car and aimed us at the McDryads
drive-thru.  Say what you will about McDryads, they made a great ambrosia
smoothie.  It was already mid-afternoon and dealing with the corpse and the
police report and trying to squeeze some information out of that bastard Frank
was making my stomach growl.  I leaned out the window and ordered, “Two
ambrosia smoothies, a Later Gator burger aaaand…”

I looked over at Killian.

“A Shroomwich with curly fries.”

“A Shroomwich with curly fries.  That’ll be it.”

Killian started to get some coins out of his purse but I
waved him away, “This one is on me.”

The little pixie flew out of the call box to the window
with my order written on the back of a leaf.  Another messenger flew back to
take her place. 

I pulled forward and grabbed our food, which was inside a
great big bean pod that had been emptied out and turned into a takeout bag.  I
handed it over to Killian who divvied up the goods and unwrapped my burger so
that I could eat it with one hand while I steered with the other.

“I sure wish we knew a werewolf,” I said.

“You do not?”

I bit in and tried, unsuccessfully, not to dribble ketchup
on my shirt.

“God, no, they’re disgusting,” I replied through a mouthful
of beef as half my sandwich fell apart on my lap.

Killian stared at me and remarked, “I am surprised.”

I gave him a look and wiped my mouth, “I got friends in low
places, but nobody that low…”

My voice trailed off as the thought hit me.

“But I do happen to know someone who manages a nice little
bed and breakfast for the scum of The Other Side.”

Chapter 19

We drove over the drawbridge and into the prison courtyard,
the silent stone walls hiding the sentries who probably had us in their sights
since the thought hit my brain.

I pulled up into the “intake” area, which is the same place
where I dropped off the genie in the bottle.  I sure hoped that Lacy was on
duty.  I didn't have the time or patience to sweet talk my way past some noob.

I pulled into a parking spot and we got out, making sure to
lock the doors behind us.  I didn’t need any hitchhikers looking for an easy
way out of dodge.

Lacy was at the counter filling out a crossword puzzle. 
She looked up barely long enough to buzz us in.

Lacy is blue.  She is not blue as in “sad” but as in
“actually blue”.  She keeps her uniform tight, her chi-chis pushed up to her
chin, and her curly sapphire hair piled on her head.  Dolly Parton, eat your
heart out.

“Hey Lacy!” I said.

Her attitude totally changed as soon as she saw who I had
in tow.  She practically purred as she saw Killian behind me. 

“Is it chilly in here?” she asked as she leaned
strategically on the counter, “because I think I could use some wood on this
fire.”

“Lacy…” I warned.

“What can I do you for, Mister?” she asked Killian.

“I had wondered why Maggie had never allowed me to
accompany her inside,” said Killian, taking Lacy's hands in his.  “I can see
she was frightened I might choose never to leave.”

They stared deep into one another's eyeballs without
breaking contact.  I would have lost this staring contest due to the fact I
couldn't have kept my eyes from rolling.

He slowly traced Lacy’s arm with his finger as he spoke. 
She was eating it up with a spoon, “Maggie and I were just discussing certain aspects
of werewolf mating rituals.”

 “I hear only the alphas are allowed to mate,” said Lacy.

A devilish smile crept its way across Killian's face, “What
do you think of alphas?”

“I think every now and then a girl likes to be grabbed by
the scruff of the neck and tossed around a little.”

I cleared my throat, “This is really uncomfortable…”

“Maggie and I wanted to do some research, talk to someone
with real knowledge about such things, but realized we do not know any
werewolves.  Would you happen to know any werewolves?  Perhaps one we could
talk to?”

“Just let me get my keys,” said Lacy.  She walked over to
her desk drawer and grabbed out a great big iron ring.  She gave me a look and
said, “Maggie, you keep this partner around.  I like him.  Much better than you
just showing up and begging me to let you into a high security area of the
prison to talk to a werewolf.  That was your plan, right?”

“That was the plan.”

She shook her head, “You need to work on your approach.  I
haven’t seen you since before you dropped off that genie bottle and
disappeared."

"You weren't working that day!" I protested. 

"Makes me start thinking you only stop by when you
need something,” She came around the end of the counter and gave Killian a good
old look up and down, smiling like he was chocolate cake à la mode and it was
her birthday, “Although you can stop by anytime YOU need something..."

She opened up the door to the prison, “After you.”

Killian seemed only too pleased to oblige her, giving her a
view of his best side.

Lacy hiked up her boys and followed.

As we walked deeper and deeper into the prison, I tried to
make some small talk.  You know, to remind Lacy that I was here, too.

“What ended up happening to that genie?  Is he locked up in
a can somewhere?”

“Abad?” she asked.

I shrugged, "Is that his name?  I was a little more
focused on trying to make sure he didn't squash me."

Lacy waved me off, "Abad ain't bad for a genie.  You
know, once you get to know him.  We used one of our three wishes to make him
tell the truth.  Turns out he didn’t steal the necklace, so we let him go.”

I stopped dead in the hallway, “That would have been some
nice information to have had passed along to me, seeing as how I’m the one who imprisoned
him.”

“Don’t get your leathers in a bunch, Maggie,” said Lacy. 
“You can handle a genie.”

Killian nodded sagely, “I have the utmost faith in your
skills of genie avoidance.”

“Whose side are you on?”

Lacy shook her head, “Listen, we’re not complete idiots.  The
witch found her necklace and dropped all charges.”

“Really?  So, that means I could have stopped looking for
the necklace?”

“Well, maybe if you dropped by every now and then I could
get you up to speed.”

“I was busy.  Trying to track down a brimstone necklace. 
That a genie supposedly had stolen.  A genie who is now wandering around and
really pissed that I stuck him in a bottle!”

“It’s FINE, Maggie.  We used our second wish to send Abad back
to the Dark Dimension.”

“And what did you use for your third wish?” I asked.

“Well, that's something for me to know and Killian to find
out,” Lacy said with a wink.

“I don’t want to know,” I clarified with my partner. 
"If you find out, don't tell me."

There was a buzzing noise and the next door opened in front
of us.  Lacy waved us through, “Okay, kids.  This has been party and a half,
but you’re on your own from here on out.  Don’t go breaking anyone out of
prison.”

“You have our word,” said Killian.

“I’d hate to have to use the ‘I was glamoured by an elf’
excuse in front of a judge,” she replied.

“Oh, you have not been glamoured,” said Killian.

I felt the room heat up and Lacy started fanning herself.

“
Now
, you have been glamoured,” he smiled.

She licked her lips and elbowed me in the side, “Give me a
call if you ever need back up.”

“I’ll do that,” I said, watching her as she left.  I turned
back to Killian, “Show off.”

“It is pleasant that someone appreciates me for my charms.”

Fucking elves.

We made it through a couple more locked doors and some
bullet/magic proof glass walls.  I unloaded my weapons and got myself such a
thorough frisking I could probably cancel my next annual.

We finally made it into a long room with little booths for
talking to the inmates through chicken wire glass.

The guards led in a long haired guy in a neon yellow
jumpsuit.  He was covered in tattoos and his skin was weather-worn.  He was
missing an eye and a couple teeth, his ear had a hole in it where it looked
like someone had tried to tag him.  Killian and I picked up our phones.  He
picked it up on the other side.

“Where’d you get that?” I asked, pointing at his ear.

“National park service.  Yosemite.  They tranqued me and
tried to relocate me to Alaska.  They never made it.”

“Nice,” I said.

“So who the fuck are you?” he growled.

This is why I don’t like werewolves.  A) they are assholes
and B) they are assholes.  There’s this whole pack mentality and so everyone is
always biting and scrapping their way to the top.  And then sometimes you get
outsiders like this guy looked to be.  You don’t get airlifted to Alaska if you’ve
got a pack taking care of you.  Lone wolves aren’t anything to tangle with and I’d
bet this guy’s winning personality was one of the factors that got him kicked
out.

“We're just two folks needing information on some stuff
that’s going on,” I said.

“The only reason I’m talking to you is because I’m so
fucking bored in my cell.”

“Glad we could provide some distraction.”

The werewolf stared at me with his beady yellow eyes. 
Sure, he was in human form right now, but you make that human/wolf transformation
enough and certain characteristics tend to bleed through.

“What are you going to give me for talking to you?” he
asked

“World peace…?” I offered.

He laughed, “Try again, sugar.”

“No, she is not joking.  Your information could cause world
peace,” said Killian so earnestly I wanted to give him a gold star for effort.