Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
“ B ones, I need to go shopping,” I said, reaching forward to put a hand on his shoulder. “In Apple City. Can we get there through the house? There are doors that go out both ways, but can the garage?”
“Of course, miss. You need to go shopping now? What for?”
“I need clothing to go out to eat in. The air conditioning makes me very cold, so I need something with long sleeves.” Would he question my sudden shopping emergency? I was questioning it. I really, really didn’t want to face my mother like this.
“There’s a good clothing shop in Singsong. I can show you,” he said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror with a manic smile.
I smiled back wanly. I was demonic. I needed more information, and I didn’t know where else to go for it. “It’s a particular shop that caters to cold arms. Maybe you can take me to your favorite shop later.”
“Of course, Miss Nova. And we’ll go directly home before we go shopping, just like Master told us.”
“Exactly. You might have to help guard the dressing room. I wouldn’t want anyone to come in and disturb me while I’m trying on clothes. And what if there was an attack? Can you protect me, Bones?”
“Of course, Miss Nova. Master wouldn’t have left you with me if he didn’t trust me.”
“Excellent. Bones, I rely on you.” I sank against the seat and rubbed my arm. Someone knew who I was. My mother knew me better than anyone else. Had she seen through the new me and sent someone to verify her suspicions? No, of course not, except that if she knew I was demonic and goblin, she’d know that I could regenerate and it wouldn’t be a shock for her to know that I was alive. Who else could I ask about this new, horrifying development? She’d always kept me so safe, so carefully untouched. She’d have to know that I was alive if I was going to get some answers. I couldn’t just let being demonic go. I couldn’t let the lies she’d told me rest, not when there might be other truths that would devastate what I was trying to make of my life. And Mercury. Something might follow me to his home and destroy it all, like all those people had been destroyed in the fire.
Every month, this week, day, and time, she went to Fatima’s, where she’d try on that month’s additions to her ever-evolving wardrobe. She’d never let something like my death keep her from looking amazing. Fatima was her personal shopper, but she also kept an assortment of high-end garments for her other clients in her very select boutique.
Bones pulled into the garage back at Mercury’s house in Singsong, down in the undercity next to an ominous, large stone building. There was a sign, ‘Antiquities,’ above the large gate of the next door building. Was that Mercury’s business? I knew nothing about it, but I would as soon as I stopped drowning in shock and started building my future. And after I found my killer.
When we entered the garage, the doors came down, and we sat in silence for a moment before the garage door came up, and he backed out on a different street in Apple city instead of Singsong. Some magic was simply so incredibly useful.
We drove down narrow streets through a part of Apple City I rarely went through. After a district of ominous mansions, we got to a neighborhood that was visibly magical, elven towers mixed with fairy gingerbread, and all of it bright and sparkling. This was the pretty side of magic.
“Take this corner,” I said, pointing right.
“Of course, Miss Nova.” He took the corner too fast, but didn’t hit anything. He was either a very good driver, or very lucky.
When we got to the shop, I had him park in the underground lot next to my mother’s black sedan, the one where her driver was writing his great novel while he waited for her.
Good old Murphy. I waited for Bones to open the door for me, then took his hand and smiled at him while he helped me out. His cool dry skin was starting to be normal to me. I led the way to the elevator, waving at Murphy as we passed him. He didn’t see us. He was immersed in his magnum opus and didn’t have time for the dead or the demonic.
I shivered and then squeezed Bones’s hand while we waited for the elevator.
“Miss Nova? Do you think you’ll fall over?” he asked in concern as he studied my hand gripping his.
“Bones, do you know any demonic people?”
“Demons or partially demonic people?”
The elevator door opened, and we stepped inside. I dropped his hand and rubbed my pale, bare arms. “Either?”
“Well, there are a few lesser demons in Singsong City, but not many. Mostly incubi and succubi. There are however, many more with a thread of demonic from the time when full-blood upper level demons waged war on earth.”
The elevator opened into Fatima’s very classy studio, muted walls, muted lighting, except for a few spotlights on dresses that were the height of conservative chic in black, navy, and gray. It didn’t seem like demons could possibly exist in a place like this, but here I was. Fatima’s was slightly too classic for me, but my mother assured me that I’d be grateful for the flattering cut that gave the figure some leeway when I was older. Now I wasn’t sure I was getting older.
Where did that leave me? Walking through the shop towards the back, edging around the clothing displays so the bodyguards didn’t notice us. When they did, I darted forward, with Bones keeping up until I reached the dressing room.
I whirled around and smiled up at the butler. “Keep them out, okay? But don’t rip off anyone’s arms.”
I dodged through the door while Sissy’s outrage followed me. Cecilia Sinterra was not to be trifled with. And here I was, trifling. I leaned on the door and turned to find my mother in a nude slip, looking at me with amazement on her face. Had the nervy girl who kissed at funerals really broken into the respectable dusty-blue dressing room?
I stared at her for another beat while I gathered my nerve. How in the world could I get someone so notoriously strong-willed to admit to connections to demons, goblins, and who knows what else?
“Do I look like anyone you know?” I finally asked.
Her lip curled ever-so-slightly. “It’s not hard to recognize the Dealer’s companion. What are you doing here? My bodyguards will throw you out shortly. You’re trespassing. You’ll probably get a chance to meet some charming police officers on your way out if you don’t leave immediately.”
“In that case, I’ll take my time. I’d hate to miss out on an introduction to charming police officers. Perhaps one of them will find a demonic goblin like me equally charming. It’s not likely, though, is it?”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you want?”
I took a calming breath and stood up tall. “Why haven’t you done a more thorough investigation on the fire and death of your daughter?”
Her eyes flickered with annoyance and a splash of grief. “We let the authorities handle it.”
“Since when would Patricia Clarence let anyone else handle anything? Is it somehow to your advantage to let the fire and deaths be seen as accidental?”
“I can’t believe you’d come in here and accuse me of…” She sputtered for a moment, still in her slip.
I handed her the dress on the hanger, the next one waiting for her to try on. “Might as well multi-task. You have a meeting with Gerald in forty-five minutes.”
“How do you?—”
“You don’t want to know. Or do you?” I eyed her while she hesitated, then took the dress, because she did have a meeting, and I seemed to be more of an irritation than an actual threat to her safety.
“You must have met my daughter on one of her philanthropic tours. She did engender loyalty in the most unusual people.” Her expression softened to her ‘confronting-unfortunates’ face. “You must accept the loss of our precious girl. She had a good life, even if it was short. We can’t bring back the dead.”
I snorted and bared my teeth at her. “I’m living with a necromancer. We certainly can bring back the dead, even if they were brutally murdered, mutilated, with fingers and nose chopped off before they were dumped in a sewer, so don’t tell me we can’t bring back the dead.”
She tensed up. “Mercury brought you back from the dead? You’re undead?” She looked at me like I was a rotten skunk on the side of the road, only worse.
“No, unfortunately, I went from undead to alive when my demon blood kicked in. I must have gotten the goblin from you. Everyone always said, ‘You have your mother’s knack with numbers,’ but where did I get the demon?”
She stared at me blankly, then pulled the dress over her head, smoothing it over her body automatically while she processed. “You aren’t telling me that you’re my daughter, come back from the dead.”
“No, why would I tell you that when it wouldn’t make any difference? I regenerate. I can’t do surgery to be cut and pasted back into the appropriate Clarence mold. I really broke the mold on this one. Turn around.” She did, standing there, facing the mirror while I zipped her up. I looked at our reflections in the mirror, me and my white fuzz on top, pale blue-green eyes, narrow features, crooked mouth, sharp nose. We looked nothing alike. She stared at our reflections like I did, at all the differences, and yet, we had the same posture.
“I think you must be under a spell,” I finally said. “You should ask Sissy to look into the deaths, because it’s clear you can’t see anything. You’ll never believe me, not when I look nothing like you. I didn’t realize how much work I had done, but looking at my natural face, it’s a lot.”
She studied me intently and then turned to face me, her eyes running over my face in fascinated horror. “You aren’t my daughter.” She said the words, but her voice was uncertain.
“No, I’m Nova Nativitae. I have no family, like you. Can you tell me who would want your daughter dead? Just as an exercise in futility? What about your past? Are there monsters that you’re trying to escape from? Is that why you have no pictures from your childhood, why you were always so careful to guard me?”
She stood straighter. “This conversation is over.”
“Yes, I can see this was a waste of time. You’ll never admit to having goblin blood, so why would you admit to the demon? Still, you should have Sissy look into the murder.”
“It was an accident.”
“Yes, everyone says so, and we must believe what everyone says. Except that I was mutilated before I was killed.” A welling of helpless anger rose up, choking me. “You’re right. This conversation is over. I don’t know why I thought you’d help me when I have nothing to offer you in return. I’m just some random, hideous, inappropriate stranger who accosted you in a dressing room.” I turned to leave, then hesitated. “That dress adds ten pounds and years. Maybe that’s what you’re going for.”
I opened the door to find Bones holding off Sissy and Goons, mostly because his arms were so long. He had his hands around their throats, not quite strangling them, but very effectively holding them in place.
“Bones!” I grabbed his arm and squeezed, but he was like a tree branch, immovable.
“Miss Nova, did you get sleeves?” he asked with his usual sunny smile.
“Oh. I’ll just…” I grabbed the nearest black dress, but Fatima’s assistant hurriedly grabbed a different one on a hanger, handing it over.
“This will be closer to your size,” she said with a shy smile.
I blinked at her. Now that was a useful assistant, always calm under stress with an eye to customer satisfaction. I’d poach her for the company if I had a company.
“Thank you,” I said with gritted teeth. “Bones, would you mind paying for the dress instead of strangling Sissy?”
He blinked and dropped the two bodyguards, then turned and handed the assistant a black card. “And it has warm sleeves?” he checked.
She nodded with a smile that was slightly more alarmed. “Yes, warm and soft.” She ran it through a machine and then handed the card back over to him. “Do you need a bag?”
“No, it’s perfect,” I said before I grabbed Bones’s arm and walked out, head held high. That lasted all the way down the elevator, into the parking garage, then into the backseat. As soon as I got there, I curled up in a ball on the comfortable leather and tried to think in neat ordered lines that would add up to something. I’d thought that I’d find out something from my mother, but she hadn’t recognized me, hadn’t wanted me to be alive, and certainly hadn’t given me any clarity on what I actually was. I’d learned nothing useful, other than the fact that she didn’t want me unless I was the perfect face of the company, and I’d already known that. I breathed shallowly while Bones got in.
“Are you all right, Miss Nova?” he asked.
“Bones, I feel like shooting someone. Is there a shooting range around here you can take me to?”
“No, but I can take you to one in Song. It’s in the neighborhood, so it’ll be a quick drive. Are you lying down because you’re tired? Shouldn’t you go home and take a nap instead of shooting? We got a new television, so we could watch the show.”
“No, I just need to shoot things.”
“Very well, Miss Nova, but I’ll have to notify Mercury so he doesn’t worry about you.”
I snorted. Why worry about someone who couldn’t be kept dead?
How could my mother be so incredibly unhelpful? Why was she so blind? I’d always thought she was bright, but if she wasn’t under a spell, if this was all willful denial, I was going to kill her! Why had I let her dictate my life for so long when she cared so little about me? She let me do humanitarian aid as long as I fulfilled every other one of her tasks, down to getting engaged before my twenty-first birthday. After all those years of work and pain, trying to be the perfect daughter, what did I have to show for it? I mean, I’d developed a lot of talents over the years, striving to be exemplary, but I’d never have love from the one person I’d worked so hard to please.
And I still had no idea how I’d gotten demonic and goblin blood. Infuriating. All that humiliation with nothing to show for it.
“We’re here,” Bones said, opening the back door. I hadn’t even noticed him stopping in the garage to switch cities.
I sat up and slid out past him, absently noticing that this street had a tall limestone building going all the way up the roof of the cavern high above that had Egypt written all over it, literal Egyptian hieroglyphic etched into the pillars. The shooting range was next to it, the sign in blue neon advertising that you could get five rounds for five dollars. What kind of caliber would that be? I guess I’d find out. I was going to shoot absolutely everything.
Seven minutes later, I was set up in a booth with protective glasses and my first five rounds. The 9mm was small, functional, the kind of gun that was no nonsense and all death. Perfect. I raised my gun, sited, and shot. The gun kicked, but I held it steady with my solid stance until the pop echoed and then faded away. I narrowed my eyes at the target and saw that the bullet had clipped the right edge of the bullseye instead of the center. That meant it needed to be recalibrated, but what did I expect from a rental?
I raised my gun again, sited, and that time, after the satisfying recoil, I saw that my bullet had gone where it was supposed to. My mother had me going to the range every morning to shoot guns since I could walk. Was that the demon in her, or the goblin? Or something else?
I shot all my rounds, making a pretty pattern on the target, but when I lowered my gun, I still needed to shoot something. That’s when I noticed the people lurking around me, staring at me like I was something to see.
“Nice shot,” a sandy-haired man with a plaid vest said, nodding at the target.
Oh. That’s what they were interested in. “Yeah. I guess I got lucky,” I said lamely, then headed for the window to get something bigger now that I was warmed up.
The rounds for the 365 magnum were more expensive, but the bullets were larger, ripped bigger holes in the target, and were much more satisfying. I shot my first bullet, checked to see that it was almost perfectly calibrated, and then enjoyed the rest of my rounds. By the time I was finished with those bullets, there were quite a few more guys lingering, like this was the best show around.
“Your training is interesting,” the sandy guy said again. “You hit every major artery first, then focused on the smaller ones before demolishing the heart and brain. Do you prefer to make your targets bleed to death rather than kill them quickly?”
I’d shot so few actual people, but it was true, I aimed to wound rather than kill. It was Sissy’s biggest pet peeve with me. “If we’re talking about preferences, I prefer both. First you wound, then you kill after they’ve suffered.” Which wasn’t true at all, but demonic girls didn’t care about telling the truth.
I headed for the door while Bones kept closer to my back. “Several of them gave me your card, mentioning that they would pay top dollar for your skills,” he said quietly.
I stopped and looked at him, puzzled, then horrified. “You mean to shoot people?”
He nodded. “And you’ve been looking for a job.”
I stared at him for another moment before I grabbed his arm and leaned close. “I’m not going to kill people for money. Ever. If anyone else suggests that, you should refuse them. All right?”
He frowned. “But why else would you shoot so well?”
“Self-defense. That’s all. The few times I’ve shot people, it’s been life or death, their lives or mine and my companions. I still felt bad about it, even when it was necessary.”
He patted my head. “Miss Nova has a kind heart.”
I sniffed, because if my heart was so kind, I wouldn’t still be furious with my mother. I was still so angry, so I continued to the window.
“Give me something bigger,” I said, putting down the magnum.
“Sure thing,” the clerk said with a wink and a smile that got slightly furry before he turned towards the back.
“Is he a werewolf?” I whispered to Bones.
“Yes, Miss Nova. He’s also a very good shot, like you, but I don’t believe he hires out, either. Perhaps you can be friends.”
I gave him a skeptical look, then had to rethink. Looking like this, I could be friends with random men who I had nothing in common with other than shooting. That’s how men made friendships, common interests, and, as an incredibly unattractive female, I might be able to do the same.
The werewolf brought back a bow and two quarrels of arrows. “These are tipped with small explosives,” the guy explained, handing me the first quarrel. “These are regular tips,” he said, handing over the second. I took them, but I looked at him skeptically.
“I’m using your range. You don’t mind if I blow it up?”
He chuckled with a growl at the end. “There’s a range out back you can use to try these babies out. Everyone wants to see what you do with them.”
I scratched my cheek. “It’s to entertain your customers? Then shouldn’t you be paying me something for my time?”
He laughed again. “All right. These are off the bill.”
I eyed the bow and then him. “And a ten percent discount off the rest of the rounds I use today.”
“Done.”
He got me set up in the cave behind the shop that had an exhaust outlet up top. There were targets of various rubber animals and humans set up, the nice ones that had the right amount of resistance in the skin and ribs.
I set up, took the first explosive arrow, drew back the string, then took a deep breath, long and slow. I exhaled, releasing in the middle of the breath. The arrow slammed into the figure furthest away, dead center in the heart, and then it exploded.
The guys around me cheered while the scent of brimstone wafted towards me. I ignored them, just drew another arrow, aimed, and released. The explosions and the full-body effort required to draw a bow were more therapeutic than the guns had been.
“Not bad.” A woman’s voice came from behind my shoulder.
I turned to glance at the goblin female, then did a double take. She was brawny, with well-muscled definition beneath her green skin. Her teeth were pointed, sharp, and possibly poisonous, but that clearly wasn’t enough to signal her dangerousness, because she had several spikes coming out of her face.
“It was a lucky shot,” I said before refocusing on my target.
She snorted. “False modesty does nothing for you.”
“Including silencing meaningless praise.”
She crowed. “Oh ho, look who’s in a mood. The pretty little crumpet can shoot straight, for sure, but what about a moving target?”
I lowered the bow and looked at her. “Are you offering? I’ve never shot a goblin before, but that’s not for lack of interest.”
She grinned, showing those jagged teeth easily. “There’s another cavern with moving targets set up, an obstacle course that’s to be run, one track, one winner. Are you up for it?”
I sniffed. “I don’t have my own weapons, and racing against a goblin who can climb walls with her teeth? Do I look like I want a broken ankle?”
She wiggled her dark green brows. “If it’s not a challenge, it isn’t fun.”
“I’ve never run this course, and it sounds like you’re an old-timer. The odds are strongly in your favor. What stakes could induce me into playing a losing game? You have nothing I want.”
She pulled a folded up poster out of her armored vest and flipped it at me. I barely managed to catch it and then stared when I saw the image of Mercury with his dark hair blowing in the wind, wearing low-slung leather pants, and nothing else, holding a bone-staff with a stormy greenish sky behind him. She snatched it back before I’d really soaked in the details. “If you win, I’d give you my first edition copy of Mercury at midnight, captured by photograph the last time Mercury summoned an undead army. It’s an old poster, but worth thousands.”
I itched to get that picture back into my hands and really pore over the bare chest portion of the picture. There had been rivulets running over his skin. I was almost sure of it. I scratched my neck and tried to look disinterested.
“It’s not a bad picture, really captures the movement of the storm. And what would you want from me?”
She grinned, seeing that her exploitation of my weakness for dark sorcerers had paid off. “From you, your humiliation, but I’d settle for the clothes off your back.”
I stared at her. “I think those two things are created equal.”
She shrugged. “It’s good armor, finely spelled. It’s worth the price of the pretty necromancer.”
I looked down at the armored gear which my armoire back home was filled with, took a deep breath, then nodded. “You’d have to pay for the course, whether I win or lose. I could use the exercise. Blowing things up doesn’t burn enough rage.”
“Isn’t that the truth, though? Max, she’s on board. I told you she would be.”
The werewolf from earlier came closer, looking disapprovingly at her. “Retta. You trying to kill your competition?”
“No, I’m trying to test my competition. Show her the course.”
He brought it up on his phone, showing the trail and someone running it. There was shooting, leaping, swinging, and a variety of other methods to get from one side of the obstacle course cave to the other, all while shooting at various targets. I frowned at the screen and pointed at a part with a sign I couldn’t read.
“What does that say?”
“Quicksand. It’s only chest high, but it will stop you in your tracks,” Max the werewolf said with that same frown. “You should reconsider. I’m not going to stop you, but Retta’s a goblin and you’re…”
Demonic, but I wasn’t going to say that out loud. “Tired of shooting static targets. Were those paint pellets?”
He nodded. “When humans are on the course, we don’t allow any other kind of ammunition. Retta, not even you could kill someone with paint pellets, so don’t try.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed a pair of guns with pellet containers on the back ends. “She’s going to think I’m not sportsmanlike. I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise.” She winked at him, and he groaned.
“And now we get to see what Retta being sportsmanlike looks like. Heaven help us.”
“I don’t think angelic help would be very useful at this time,” I answered, taking my own set of guns and checking the mechanism to see how it worked. It was very point-shoot kind of play. “What rules are there?”
“Well, no shooting each other, and the winner is calculated on the time run as well as the number of targets hit. So, don’t miss any, be fast, and focus on your own race, not your neighbor’s.” He gave Retta another look.
She ignored him and nodded at me instead. “Ready? Do you need a nap and a carb boost first?”
“I think I’ll somehow survive without it.” Because I’d survive anything.
Bones grabbed my hand, tugging me back as I started walking with her to the other cave. “You don’t want to go home? The show is coming on soon.”
I hesitated, then shrugged and gave him a quick hug. “We can get the season and watch it whenever we want. It’ll be good for me to get some exercise, go for a nice run through a cave, shoot some targets, and forget about things.”
“Amnesia? If you hit your head on a rock…”
I laughed and hugged him until he creaked, then I pulled away. “I’ll remember you, Bones. No matter what. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” he said soberly, then grabbed the back of Retta’s vest, yanking her close enough that he could hunch over her ominously. “You scratch her skin, I rip off your arms.”
She shrugged him off and sneered up at him. “Yeah, I don’t have a death wish. I’m not going to hurt Mercury’s pretty little bird. Well, Bird? Are you coming?”
“It’s Nova, and yes. Let’s do this.”