Kicking It(104)

—

What?

You’re still here? Lesson not learned yet?

I told Elizabeth that I made no judgments? “Do I remember that?”

Of course I remember that. I can’t believe you’d ask. Yes, I did lie, but I also kept my promise to her, didn’t I? I delivered as I said I would. Oh, sweet Lord above. Keep up.

I lied about deciding the verdict. I always lie about that. I’m surprised Elizabeth believed me. I expected better from a liar as good as her.

I’m not so surprised you believed.

Better start believing. I not only do judge. I am a judge. Also jury and executioner.

Think about that the next time you’re tempted to buy a pair of snakeskin shoes or boots.

You never know who that snake once was.

Or is.

Remember, Mark Twain said that a lie can travel halfway around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes. A trickster can make it all the way around and steal truth’s shoes before the laces are tied.

And we are everywhere, finger-painting the world red with the blood of the wicked.

Wait.

You’re not wicked, are you?

Sugar, where are you going?

Well, be that way. Bye-bye, then.

For now.

See you soon.

Sooner than you think.

Smooches.





RUBY RED


A Darque Files Story





BY KALAYNA PRICE


Set in the world of the Alex Craft Novels





I shucked my singed jacket and dropped it on the cheap hotel carpet. Ruined. Damn. My pants weren’t any better. The acrid scent of scorched leather engulfed me. Wrinkling my nose, I considered stripping and hitting the shower without acknowledging the man sitting in the obligatory armchair found in every hotel room across the country. The blinds were open behind him, which allowed him to read the document in his lap with the final rays of evening sun.

“You could have warned me about the fire elemental,” I said as I checked the condition of my boots. Salvageable.

Derrick Knight, my partner and fellow investigator in the Magical Crimes Investigation Bureau, looked up for the first time and grimaced. “You’ve handled elementals before.” He frowned. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No.” I unlaced my boots. They had a little scorching, but would clean up okay. “But if you want one Briar Darque, extra crispy, I know where to look.”

“I didn’t know about the fire elemental, Briar.” The words lacked both sympathy for my situation and amusement at my last statement as Derrick went back to reading the document in his lap.

Well, if he was going to sit in my room and ignore me, I was losing the charred pants. I stripped and tossed the pants on the floor with my jacket. The charms in the clothing had protected me from the flames, but damn, I was really going to miss that outfit. Now I’d need to tweak the spells worked into my backup jacket.

Across the room, Derrick cleared his throat. I turned, still pantless, and found his gaze locked on his document—desperately so, judging by the tightness on his face. He’d seen me half-naked—or worse—before, but I took pity on the guy and grabbed a pair of yoga pants from my luggage.

Derrick was doubly wyrd, which meant that on top of normal witch powers, he had two abilities he couldn’t completely control. It was rare to have two wyrd abilities. And in my business rare usually meant one of two things: The MCIB recruited you or they sent someone like me after you.

The first ability was premonition, and as he’d recently celebrated his thirty-first birthday without going bat-shit insane, he was considered to be well above the curve. The second ability was more difficult. He had been born with touch clairvoyance, which was why it was cruel for me to show off a lot of flesh around him. The clairvoyance was a little spotty, but when he touched an object or person, half the time he flashed into their history or memory. Occasionally useful on cases, it was typically only a hindrance to, well, living. Anything he planned to touch had to be either new—thus no strong events or emotions tied to it—or his. Which meant he always carried a pair of gloves, he brought whatever he might eat with him to restaurants, supplied his own bedding at hotels, and special ordered his clothes. And skin to skin contact? Nope, definitely not. With all the travel, my dating life was minimal. His dating life? About nil. Of course—who knew?—maybe he had a long-distance thing going on. We didn’t really talk about personal stuff.

I glanced at him once I’d pulled on the pants and then stopped. “Oh, no. You’ve got that look.”

He didn’t bother asking me which look—he damn well knew.

A case.

I stepped to the bed and meticulously removed my weapons, checking each before placing it with the quickly amassing collection spread over my comforter. “I guess any chance of us getting our promised vacation is slim?”