Evading The Tempest (Tempest tales Book 1)

  Evading The Tempest

  By

  Sandra Elsa

  Book One –Tempest Series

  Copyright 2015 by Sandra Panicucci

  Chapter 1

  I crouched behind the dumpster next to Minale’s Restaurant as a member of the watch sauntered by, his HQ-blue uniform out of place here in District Eleven. Hadn't been doing anything wrong, but whoever stirred up Headquarters had them out in force. Except for a select few, I preferred to stay away from the District One holier-than-thou troopers.

  Insects scuttled in and out of rusted out holes in the dumpster and I clutched my shirt taut over my breasts and pinched my lips tight. Last thing I needed was to give myself away screeching over an injudicious insect landing.

  A couple of local, brown uniforms stood guard on Main Street, but the clucks from HQ were calling the shots. Inferring that info one level higher told me the whole runaround had something to do with mages, the gods-forsaken creatures of District Seven. In my mind--with my luck--that meant they must be after the Movie-Star. Not my client, but still connected to my case.

  No sense trying to convince HQ I had nothing to do with him. They always knew better. Hell they might even be right--this time. I was down here hunting a potentially dead client, and their missing mage had been doing the client's wife. Was the escapee from Seven a possible murderer? Definitely looked more like a lover when I’d seen him, but you never knew.

  The trooper in the alley stopped a half-block away and sniffed the air, proving that the fine troopers of the watch were made of more stalwart stuff than I. My own breathing was shallow, not only in an attempt go unheard, but because the stench of rotted salad, and calzones, and whatever else the dumpsters were serving up, combined with urine and rot to perfect a particularly potent blend of back alley perfume tonight. April had been right, something had most assuredly died in the last two weeks. The decomposing carcass stench, mixed with the normal eau de la nuit, brought on a gag reflex.

  The buildings lining the ten foot wide alley cast eerie shadows bringing twilight to the early afternoon. Only the shadow attached to the trooper moved. His way of moving struck me as familiar, I wished I‘d caught a glimpse of his face. He spun a circle then continued in the direction the extra atmospheric flavor came from.

  I cursed my luck as he stepped off in the direction I’d been headed. His natural grace told me this trooper could follow his nose to anything or anybody. If the watch found my client, they'd be coming around asking questions, even if they didn't catch me out here tonight.

  I'd put out feelers after Mr. Self-Important failed to appear for a follow-up meet last Friday. This afternoon April had mentioned the stench permeating the tiny part of District Eleven she shared with May and June. Thought I might want to check it out since only four blocks separated their corner, where the stench drove away customers, and Minale's restaurant, where the meet had been scheduled.

  The trooper crossed the next intersection and I eased myself up, pausing to rotate my knee to stretch it without the customary pop. A glance left, then right, assured me nobody else lurked before I tailed the watch down the alley. Stupid thing to do, especially since I knew I wasn't following a human trooper. But I had to know if Self-Important had taken the info and the pics I gave him, and gotten himself whacked. If he had, I could be next.

  He'd called me three weeks ago to set up the initial meet convinced his wife was being unfaithful to him and asked me to tail her. After a week of shopping, dental visits, and a trip to the OB-GYN, I'd pretty much given it up as the client’s paranoia caused by marrying a sensational looking woman when he was only so-so. The next day the Mrs. met up with Mr. Movie-Star.

  I took some pics and asked around District Three where she'd met him. Nobody had a clue who the hunky sperm-donor might be. The citizens rarely shut down on me, so either this guy came from another District, or everybody was scared of him. Everybody in this neighborhood knew my clients paid well for information. Some of the residents had put their kids through university on what I passed on to them.

  Took three days on the net to find Mr. Movie-Star. He'd been reported missing over in District Seven. My mind clamored that I should abandon ship. If pretty-boy came from there, it was a pretty safe bet he was a mage.

  A poorly thought out plan five-hundred years ago had taken the people everybody called freaks and forced them into District Seven. Many had hoped they'd kill each other off. But when you put magic-users all in the same place and oblige them to endure their own company long enough, the old enmities that kept them weak and divided, fell away. They discovered new and potent ways to use their talents as they combined forces and DNA. Now the damn dictator of the once-free districts of the world came from their ranks.

  The trooper stopped and I dodged into the shadows of a door frame. He lifted his nose and sniffed the air again. Had to be Were for it not to make him gag. He put his face in the light. Damn it, I'd known the way he moved was familiar. Rollick would know I tailed him. Oh well, at least he wasn't one of the hard-cases who never believed a word I said. Slightly elongated canine teeth gleamed in a wolfish smile, hand eased off the pistol at his waist. He beckoned and I stepped out of the doorway and ambled down the alley toward him.

  "You're a long way from your office, Francesca."

  "How many times I gotta tell you to call me Frankie. Client was supposed to meet me at Minale's. Never showed. Owes me for a week of tailing his old-lady around."

  "Was she cheating?"

  I glanced up and down the alley, unable to believe a single watch member made the world safe. "Yeah. But he paid me for one week and said he wanted me to stay on it for one more, call him if she met him again. Wasn't hard work and paid good. Figured, what the hell. She met the guy once more. I took some more pics called the client, set up a meet for Friday to turn the pics over, but he didn't show."

  "Reckon he skipped on the bill?" Rollick made small talk, but his nose never stopped, eyes following the hints of his olfactory.

  "Not sure. Been watching his house--haven’t seen him there either." Dumpsters protruded into the narrow space. I walked around the last one separating us. "Figured I'd cover the bases. Told the locals I had somebody missing. When the stench worked its way up to Main, one of the hookers told me she might know where my client was."

  "Might as well walk with me. Make me nervous, tailing along behind. When'd you pick me up?" I didn’t for a second believe it was me making him nervous. The atmospheric stench was enough to put anyone’s nerves on edge.

  "Didn't pick you up. Just stepped through Minale's back door when you went by." I stretched my legs as he started moving again. My knee popped and I fell into step beside him.

  "Didn't smell you."

  "Hid behind the dumpster. Musta passed a dozen of you guys up on Main. Didn't figure whatever wound y'all up was worth me sitting at the station answering questions about my client all night."

  "I like you Frankie, but you know if the DB we're looking for has anything to do with your case you're going to be answering questions anyway."

  "Yeah, but you busted me. Figured I might as well walk with you. So you gonna tell me what has the grand-high-muckety-mucks stirred up enough to have a dozen of your buddies from HQ running around this district like chickens with their heads cut off?"

  Rollick licked his lips--so maybe a dead chicken wasn't the best image to keep him focused. The left side of his lips rose in a lopsided grin. "Why would somebody want to ruin a perfectly good meal by cutting its head off?"

  "Knock it off, Rollick. You know you're not going to gross me out. I take it that's your way of saying you're not going to tell me who or what you'r
e looking for."

  "It's a who. And I hope it's not your client. If it is, you'll be answering more than my questions."

  Rollick lifted his long sharp nose into the air and stopped walking. He pointed at a three foot gap between buildings on the east side of the road then spoke into his radio. "Trooper Rollick on Minale Alley. Moving between buildings four-one-nine and four-two-one. Scent is strong. Coms will be blocked by the buildings. Wanted to make sure somebody knows where I am."

  "Gotcha Rollick." The static burst was difficult to make out, but if Rollick was here, that should be Wally. "Let us know when you're back on the road."

  "Will do."

  I considered Rollick a moment. Would he believe I was scared? Might be my last opportunity to bow out gracefully, before I found myself face to face with a mage. Whoever they were looking for, Rollick was scared of him. Rollick outweighed me by more than seventy pounds and didn't need the gun he carried or his nightstick to be deadly. My nine-mil wasn't even loaded with silver. He might buy it. I started to turn away.

  "Might as well come along now, Frankie."

  "Main's only a block up. If you're nervous, I'm outta here."

  "Francesca!" His bark couldn't be considered anything but an order. "You'll stay here. Safety in numbers."

  "You'll be safe by yourself. I'll just be a distraction you need to protect if something comes after you." I didn’t believe that and I doubted he would either. He knew I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

  "And what will you do if you run into him?"

  Hadn't really thought he'd go for it but I had to try. Damn, damn, damn... mages...and HQ. This couldn't possibly have a good ending.

  Rollick glanced up at the rickety fire-escapes zigzagging along walls. They'd long ago changed into entryways for burglars. Most of them were blocked and useless. In fact none of the buildings we walked between evidenced life of any sort. One of the fire escapes a hundred yards ahead of us scraped on the wall. Rollick looked it up and down. Another scrape accompanied a stiff breeze, gusting through the gap between buildings, bringing the scent stronger than ever. The weather geeks must be responding to complaints of the stench--trying to circulate it. Thin it out.

  From my perspective, they failed. I gagged, doubling over and dry heaving a couple of times. I panted as I recovered. "I don't get it, Rollick. How can your nose be so much better than mine, but you can walk in here like you're in a meadow on a spring day?"

  We started down the paved walkway. "That would be a difference in how our minds treat DBs. Your nose says, 'Carrion. Yuck. Something's dead.' My nose says, 'Carrion, yummm. Something's dead."

  I steadied myself on the brick wall of the five story building, fingers coming away gritty.

  "OK. Just asking, because whoever this is, the stench makes me want to gak again." From the depths of my vest pocket I pulled a plastic bag containing nothing more than a bandana printed with images of various pistols.

  "Never known you to get sick at a crime scene, Frankie."

  "I can look at a DB, no matter what condition it's in. Just something about the smell…" I opened the bag and drew out the bandana I kept for just such emergencies. "I'm going to assume we're close enough my lilacs won’t interfere with you finding the DB." I swiped the floral scented handkerchief around each nostril then held it to my face and breathed deeply several times before following Rollick down the gap.

  We moved in silence so the fire-escape grinding against the wall again startled me. Hot on the hunt, Rollick dismissed the sound.

  Damn good thing I was there.

  I unholstered my weapon as I flung myself backward to the ground. Three rounds fired at point blank range sent the creature flailing backwards on the steps it had descended. It remained still a moment then moved so fast I couldn't follow the action. Rollick, ran out of his clothes, shifting to fur, and followed it up the fire-escape. His weapon lay on the ground and I picked it up and checked the load. Silver. God bless you, Rollick.

  The only time I ever killed anything inhuman it was headed straight at me. Kinda hard to miss. Whatever this creature of shadows was, it bounded back and forth as the steps bent first left, then right. I tried to train the forty-five's muzzle on the attacker but it was pointless. Waste of a round; and silver's the most highly valued metal on the market. Not like we could go dig for more.

  Worse than losing a bullet, at the speeds they were traveling I might hit Rollick as he pursued the shadow. I picked up Rollick's radio and raced back out of the narrow gap between buildings. Once I had signal, I pushed the button and said, "Trooper Rollick is in pursuit of an unidentified suspect. Officer needs assistance."

  "Who is this?" I recognized Trooper Wallin's gruff voice and I knew damn good and well he recognized mine.

  "You're wasting time, Wally. Not like I'm any help in that sort of pursuit."

  Shouted orders drifted back to the alley and I realized they weren't very far away. "Be aware. Trooper Rollick is wearing fur."

  Wally shouted. I assumed he was pulling back any troopers not able to scent the difference between Rollick and his suspect. Guess he assumed if Rollick went wolf, the suspect did as well. Wally's voice crackled over the radio. "Remain where you are, Francesca. Do not get involved."

  "Wasn't even thinking about it." Four gray shapes streaked past me. "They went up the third fire-escape," I shouted, glad they had good hearing because otherwise they'd have been too far past before I remembered that little detail might be helpful. They'd have scented it, and Rollick's clothes lay there, but it was quicker to just give them a heads up.

  Trooper Wallin jogged down the alley along with three other humans. He stopped in front of me. "What're you doing here, Frankie?"

  "Looking for a client who didn't show to a meet at Minale's last week. April came to me complaining about a DB. Thought it might be my guy."

  "What sort of case?"

  “Domestic. Wife fooling around.” I winked at him. “You know how those get sometimes. Once the spouse is busted, it gets ugly."

  Wallin knew. Took three of his own troops to pull him away from going after his wife's something-on-the-side. He nodded. "Let's go find the DB and get you out of here. Not a good night for you to be in this part of town. You armed?"

  "Got my nine and Rollick's forty-five with a silver load."

  "Good enough. Let's get down here and see who we got." He turned to the three that were with him. Gary, take point. Mike, you and Sally guard the rear. Don't have to be Were to track that scent."

  I held my handkerchief up to my face and followed Gary into the narrow gap.

  Wally walked beside me. All four of them looked up. Searching the rooftops for sign of the chase going on over our heads. Gary glanced ahead often enough to make sure nothing came at us from the front and Sally searched behind. Only I watched the darkened mostly boarded up windows of the buildings we were passing between. If the body had been in the gap here, it would have been plain to see. The ground, while littered with trash, wasn't lumpy enough to hide something the size of a man.

  The windows were boarded up or broken out. We checked the rooms behind the broken ones. Not even a corpse smelled this bad. We were already two city blocks from Main, and April hadn't lied when she said the stench was driving off her customers.

  Even the hardened troopers placed hands over noses. I dug in a pocket and came up with a tiny plastic bottle of the oil I used on the bandana. Wallin and Mike were too macho to wear lilac, but Sally and Gary both smeared a fingerful under and in their noses. I gave up pressing the bandana to my face, and tied it like a cowboy in a dust storm.

  Three more boarded up windows, and then broken glass. Glittering shards carpeted the three foot wide gap as though something had hit it fast and hadn't cared if it got cut. A couple of boards lay in the ruin as though they'd been on the outside of the glass. By the amount of glass it must have been at least an inch thick. Not even one of the Were’s could have gone through that. But something had. My guess would be
in the last two days, or somebody would have noticed the smell long ago.

  We stopped to peer within the ground-floor room and suddenly the reason for the strength of the overwhelming stench became obvious. Not one body or even two lay within. Corpses littered the room, the pile in some places nearly three feet deep. Wallin and Mike both held out their hands to me in a desperate plea that I share the lilac perfume. Their eyes streamed tears.

  Mike turned pale and rushed to the opposite side to vomit before he could smear it on. On cue, Sally scrambled beyond the mess Mike left and added her own to the ground.

  I shined my flashlight through the window, carefully avoiding the jagged bits of glass still in the frame. Some of the corpses were skeletal. Those that weren't showed evidence of having been gnawed on. Not in a starving ravenous sort of way but more in a bored and passing time, negligent manner.

  Most of the clothing was poor. My guess would be homeless folk. There were some dogs and a couple of cats and even some dead pigeons in the pile. The rats on the other hand were thriving. I guessed the murderer had more than a passing fondness for the disease carrying, corpse consuming rodents. A door on the far side of the room was open and I wondered if other rooms looked the same or if this was where he kept his kills and the others were where he lived. My beam of light caught on long blonde hair which had yet to dim in the lackluster of death. In horror I realized April lay before me. Could the killer know she'd come to me? Or had she decided to investigate on her own?

  At my gasp, Trooper Wallin turned his light in my face. "Recognize somebody?"

  I blinked, the brilliance of his beam making my eyes tear up. Then put my own beam back on April. "That's the woman who came to me complaining about the stench. She was alive less than three hours ago."

  Trooper Wallin nodded to himself and continued his examination of the bodies, from our position in the gap between buildings.

  A ruckus overhead turned our eyes up in time to see five wolves leap from one building to the next in pursuit of something unnatural, but not wolf. I'd seen it close up when I shot it, but it had all seemed a flowing mass of shadows. Solid enough my bullets sent it flying; not solid enough they killed it. Scrabbling claws faded in the distance and we turned back to our grisly find. I swapped positions with Wally and shone my light along the wall. "Damn it."