Dead Matter (7 page)

Allorah softened when she heard that. “Good,” she said, going back to the file once again. “Now, you saw only one?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Only the one. Do you think there’s more? Do you really think it’s vampires?”

“I won’t rule out the possibility until I know more,” she said. “I trust you still have your clothes from last night?”

I nodded. “What’s left of them,” I said. “Yes.”

“What’s left of them?” she said.

I reached over to the folder she held and flipped a few pages forward. “I believe it’s on page four or five. The ‘battery acid’ incident.”

Allorah scanned the page. “Ah,” she said. “So I see.” She read in silence for a moment. “I’ll need you to hand those over. You know, it
is
customary to bring in evidence when it pertains to a case.”

“I’ll bring them in tomorrow,” I said, feeling a bit nervous now. “You know, if they haven’t dissolved.”

“See that you do,” she said, closing the folder and sliding it under her arm. “If you gentleman will excuse me, I believe I shall take my leave of you before Mr. Canderous here says anything that might cause me to report to the Enchancellors. I’ll be off in my lab if you need me, Argyle.”

The Inspectre nodded. I didn’t dare speak for the strange lump of fear that was forming in my throat. Also, not speaking might ensure that I got to keep my job.

Allorah headed out of the Inspectre’s office, leaving the two of us alone.

“You’ll have to forgive Allorah,” he said once she had headed off down the stairs. “She can be a bit abrasive when it comes to the
V
word.” The Inspectre pointed at the file I had slid under his door when I had first arrived. “I take it this is about the call I sent you on last night?”

I nodded, then turned and picked up the file. The Inspectre moved to sit down at his desk and I crossed to it, putting the file there before him. He pulled out a pair of reading glasses from the inside pocket of his coat and slid them on before reading the report. When he was done, he flipped the folder closed.

“Connor, eh?” he said, grave. “I knew he was having a tough time after not finding his brother, but little did I imagine the old pro would go so off the deep end.”

“Jane and I have him sleeping it off,” I said, “but I think we need to get him some help.”

Inspectre Quimbley looked hesitant. “Well, that’s a bit of a sticky wicket.”

“What is?”

He pushed the folder off to one side of his desk. “Technically, Connor is on leave from the Department,” he said. “He’s earned that time and he’s taking it. In that regard, there’s nothing we can do in an
official
capacity. Once he’s back here at Other Division, well, then,
then
we can take action.”

“And how long does he have left?” I asked.

The Inspectre went to an old wooden filing cabinet off to one side of the room. He pulled it open and flipped through the files within it for several seconds before finding what he was looking for.

“Connor’s service records,” he said. He sat back down at his desk and looked through the folder. “Ah, here we go. He’s accumulated quite a bit of rollover time in Other Division.”

“How much longer does he have off?”

“If he so chooses to take it all at once,” the Inspectre said, “another month.”

“Another
month
?” I repeated. “He’ll be ready for Bellevue by then!”

“Hold on, my boy,” the Inspectre said. “I said there was nothing we could do in an official capacity. I didn’t say we were going to ignore him.”

I sat down in the chair across from him, leaning in. “So what, then?”

“Since you’re part of the Fraternal Order of Goodness, I think it’s well within your job description to keep an eye on him.”

“Is it?”

“Us F.O.G.gies operate in an unofficial capacity a good percentage of the time,” he said. “The Department can’t do anything while Connor is on leave, but
you
can.”

“What can I do?” I asked. “It’s not like the Order has put me through any kind of psychology boot camp.”

“It needn’t be that complex, my boy,” he said. He sat back in his chair and folded his hands over his belly. “Be his friend. Take an interest. For instance, when was the last time the two of you had a social engagement together?”

I thought back. “I’m not sure,” I said. “Maybe a few weeks before he took his leave. After we hit a dead end tracking down his brother. He’s a very private person.”

“Most of us who are drawn to the Department are,” he said. “I think a lot of darkness forces people into the light that is this profession.”

I considered his words. It was certainly true in my case. My own history as an ex-thief was a testament to that. When my old career criminal squeeze Mina Saria had come back from my past and threw her personal chaos my way, how hard had I tried to keep that part from everyone at the Department? Pretty damned hard.

“I’ve been an awful friend,” I said. “I didn’t notice any of this happening to him. It doesn’t seem like he’s been out of the office all that long. Time’s been flying by in a flash, what with having to pick up his caseload …”

“Don’t beat yourself up too much over it,” the Inspectre said. He reached for another folder and started looking through it. “Just do something about it.”

I nodded, standing up. The Inspectre went back to his folder without another word. I took my cue to leave, not relishing at all the taste of my foot in my mouth from talking with Allorah. It was something that had been happening less and less with my time in Other Division, but it still was all too familiar for my liking.

My workday turned into a work night, leaving me with a fine array of paper cuts to show for hours of filing, but I was thankful to have my head down in the paperwork all day. At least then I couldn’t risk embarrassing myself in front of any of the Enchancellors. By the time I finally gave up on processing reports and headed home, it was nearly ten. I was thrilled to see Jane was still up, waiting for me in a JOSS WHEDON IS MY MASTER NOW tank top. She sat cross-legged on the old-school leather couch in the center of my faux gentleman’s club common room. Her laptop was balanced across her legs and miniature firework displays were shooting off of the screen and bursting a foot above my couch.

“Nice trick,” I said. “Hope your technomancy’s not scorching my furniture.”

“It’s harmless,” she said, closing her laptop. The fire-works vanished as the screen clicked shut. “More of a light show than actual pyrotechnics.” Jane patted her hand on the empty spot next to her. “I take it your Olympic-level caseload went well today?”

“Kinda,” I said. I pulled off my jacket, a fresh array of pains shooting throughout my body from yesterday’s gargoyle attack mixed with being hunched over my desk all day. “Had a
lovely
chat with one of the Enchancellors today about the grocery store incident. Allorah Daniels. She’s about a billion years younger than the rest of them.”

Jane’s face fell serious. “Why do the Enchancellors care about our case?” she asked. Jane sounded nervous. Apparently, she was just as wary as I was when the eyes of the über-bosses were upon us.

“They probably wouldn’t be taking notice,” I said, “but Allorah’s a vampire hunter on top of her Enchancellorship. I wonder if that doubles her pay scale.”

“Really?” Jane said, giving a surprised smile. “I thought they bred Enchancellors to be a bunch of stuffed-shirt bureaucrats?”

“Not this one,” I said. I threw my coat onto one of the hooks by the front door and joined Jane on the couch. “But I did get schooled on vampires. Allorah thinks that the creature from the store has a thing or two in common with them. If you ask me, that monstrosity didn’t look a thing like Frank Langella
or
Gary Oldman. Oh, remind me in the morning that I have to bring those clothes from last night in tomorrow.”

“Will do,” Jane said, giving me a salute.

When I was finally seated, she leaned over and gave me a quick kiss, then looked past me toward the entrance to my apartment.

“Wow,” she said. “One whole month without having your door smashed in, huh? Is that some kind of record?”

“Well, you’ve got a key now,” I said, “and Mina’s disappeared off the face of the planet, so that insures my safety a little bit. That, and I had the Inspectre take my name out of the ‘Hottest Places for Cultists to Visit’ directory …”

Jane raised an eyebrow. “Hon, I know I’m going to regret asking this, but in our line of work I just have to …
Please
tell me you just made that up.”

“I
think
I did,” I said. My back ached and I settled back into the couch a little. “I’m so exhausted right now, I’m not sure. Check the box of departmental pamphlets on the bookshelf over there.”

Jane’s eyes settled on my wall-to-wall shelves of psychometrically assessed antiques, collectibles, and books, half of which I meant to turn a profit on if I could find the right dealers. The stuff was piling up, threatening to take over, and Jane scrunched up her face up at it. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

“If you get the sudden urge to tidy up,” I said, knowing the type of response my faux chauvinism would provoke, “be my guest. Really, the place still needs a woman’s touch.”

Jane gave me a dark but playful look, her eyes burning into mine.

“Oh, I’ll touch you, all right,” she said. Jane leapt at me, knocking me back and onto the couch.

I hissed out a breath as my muscles screamed out in every direction at once. Jane immediately pulled herself up into a sitting position on top of me.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, hoping I sounded a little manlier than I felt. “My arms and shoulders are sore. Guess I was just swinging my bat a little more enthusiastically at those gargoyles last night than I thought. At least, I hope it’s from all that. I refuse to blame any of my aches and pains on today’s paper shuffling.”

Jane’s hands ran up my chest and onto my shoulders. She started rubbing them and I let my head fall back, my eyes sliding shut.

“Mmm,” I said. “You’re so much better than Connor at this.”

“I should hope so,” she said, giving me a hard squeeze. “And ew.”

“Sorry.” I moved to sit up. “We really should get some sleep. I’ve got to meet with Enchancellor Daniels to go through the remains of my clothes from the other night, and then there’s more follow-up paperwork on the whole churchyard incident. On top of all that, I think I should put aside a little time to figure out just what the hell is going on with Connor.”

“We can go to bed,” Jane said, standing up and taking me by the hand, “but I don’t know about sleeping.”

Jane pulled me to my feet and led me off in the direction of my bedroom, running her hand along the walls in a seductive manner. Even the way she flicked the lights off was a turn-on. When we reached my bedroom, she flicked on the lights and turned to make sure I was watching. She reached behind her back, unzipped her skirt, and let it slide to the floor. She leaned over, showing off her curves, then picked the skirt up and laid it over the back of one of the chairs.

Next, she undid her ponytail, letting her hair fall over her shoulders.

Without looking away, I started undressing, undoing my belt and unbuttoning my pants … only to realize my bat was still holstered to the belt I was wearing. The weight of it pulled my pants to the floor, accompanied by a dull metallic
clang
, the bat rolling back and forth on the hardwood floor.

“Sorry …” I started to say, but Jane simply raised a finger to her lips to shush me. The woman was determined. Who was I to stop her?

I pulled my shirt off as she did hers, leaving her standing there in formfitting red lingerie that definitely had my attention. Jane walked toward me and kissed me deep, pushing me gently toward the edge of the bed. I fell back onto it and her body pressed down on top of mine.

Jane reached out toward one of the bedside lamps, her eyes sliding shut as she concentrated. A tiny string of electronic-sounding gibberish whispered out of her lips and every light in the room turned off.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling even though she couldn’t see me. “Just what I wanted. My own personal Clapper.”

When my eyes finally adjusted to the dark several seconds later, I could see Jane and she wasn’t smiling.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “I’m sorry. Is it because I called you something from the ‘As Seen on TV’ commercials … ?”

Jane put her hands on my chest as if to calm me. A lingering hint of electricity jumped between us, sending a different sort of tingle through my body from the one she was already giving me.

“It’s not that,” she said.

“Then what is it?”

“I’m sorry to ruin the moment, but I just had a thought about what you said right before I dragged you off to bed,” she said, “about Connor.”

Normally the last thing I wanted to hear about in my bed was another man, but the look of concern on Jane’s face pushed aside all that.

“What about him?”

Jane rolled off of me, slipped out of bed, and headed back over toward her clothes hanging from the chair.

“You’re right,” she said. “We need to be thinking about what we can do to help him.”

“I’m sure it can wait till morning,” I said. “Not to be insensitive, but he’s probably sleeping right now anyway.”

“That’s just it,” she said. “He
hasn’t
been sleeping, remember?”

“He’s been having those dreams he told us about …”

“But what if Connor’s not dreaming?” she said, pulling on her shirt. “What if what he told us he dreamt about is actually happening to him?”

The implication hit me and I was out of the bed like a shot, all thoughts of the pleasure I had just been about to experience pushed aside. I headed over to the bottom drawer of my dresser, rooting through it before opting for black jeans and a black T-shirt. This felt like a covert-ops kind of scenario, anyway.