Immortal Moon (16 page)

“Hey, don’t get mad at me because you’re
ancient,” she teased. “So, you ready to go have a drink and pretend
to be a couple having a good time?”

“Yeah, I suddenly need a whiskey or two,” he
grumbled.

Fiona said the words to lift the no-speak
spell, laughed, and slid her arm around his waist, slipping into
character. “Come on, old man… I mean, sweetheart.”

The inside of the bar was as shabby as the
outside, yet surprisingly clean. Jarrett and Fiona ordered a couple
of drinks from Carl the Bartender and found a table in a far corner
that gave them a good view of both the door and the bar.

A band played in the opposite corner,
filling the smoky room with twangy music reminiscent of what could
have been heard in the city long before the Cataclysm. Despite the
loud music, Fiona and Jarrett were careful to keep their
conversation light and flirty, like that of a couple out on a date.
Even in a noisy bar, vampire hearing was excellent, and using a
no-speak spell would be obvious and suspicious. It was safer not to
discuss the case. Fortunately, Jarrett and Fiona had worked
together in similar situations before and had no problem getting
into their roles, even without any preparation.

To the casual observer, they appeared to be
a couple that was in lust, if not love, and completely absorbed in
each other. In reality, they were both on high alert. Very little
happened in the bar that they did not take note of, which is why
Jarrett noticed the all too familiar man the moment he walked
through the door.

Jarrett was leaning into Fiona, as if
whispering something naughty in her ear, when the bar’s door opened
and three people walked in. Two walked to a table and sat down; the
third, a tall, bald man, went to the bar.

The moment he had a clear view of the man,
Jarrett’s blood went ice cold.

“Python,” Jarrett muttered, leaning back
into his seat. His whole body on high alert. This wasn’t possible.
Not possible. And if it were, did that mean…?

“What?” Fiona asked, breaking into Jarrett’s
thoughts.

Jarrett motioned slightly with his head.
“Over there. Talking to the bartender. His name is Python.”

Fiona looked over in that direction. “The
scary looking bald dude with all the tattoos?”

“One tattoo. It’s a python. It stretches
over both arms, his head, and wraps around his chest and back.”

“I’m guessing that’s how he got his name.
Creative. You guys old friends?”

“Not exactly,” Jarrett grumbled. He strained
to hear what was being said, but they were too far from the bar and
the music was just loud enough for their words to be muffled, even
for his vampiric hearing. As Jarrett was trying to figure out how
to get closer without being seen, Python finished his conversation,
turned, and went out the door.

Jarrett slid out of the booth and hurried
after Python, not waiting to make sure Fiona followed. He wasn’t
letting Python get away. The man had answers Jarrett needed.

He burst out the door into the dark night
and saw his target only a few yards away. Jarrett reached him in
seconds, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him around to smash a
hard fist into his face. Dazed, Python crashed back against the
building wall and Jarrett was on him in an instant. He shoved one
arm against Python’s throat. With the other hand he grabbed the
dagger he wore at his waist and shoved it against Python’s
ribcage.

Staring into the eyes of a man who should be
dead, he growled, “Where is she, Python?”

Jarrett saw the recognition in Python’s
eyes, but the other man pretended ignorance. “I don’t know what
you’re talking about, mate.”

“Cora. Where is she? If you made it out of
that sea alive, she did too.”

This time Python let out a snort and
smirked. “You’d think so since she wasn’t the one with the knife in
her heart. Well, perilously close to the heart. I should thank you
for having such lousy aim, mate.”

Jarrett pressed the tip of his dagger into
Python’s skin, tearing his shirt. “I won’t miss this time. Now,
don’t make me ask again. Where’s Cora?”

“Dead. I pulled her from the sea, but she’d
broken her neck and drowned. So I tossed her back in.”

Jarrett couldn’t read the man’s expression,
couldn’t tell from his mocking tone if he was telling the truth.
But something in his gut told him Python was lying.

“I don’t believe you,” Jarrett growled.

Python’s eyes hardened. “I don’t give a
furry fuck what you believe, mate.”

Before Jarrett could react, he heard Fiona’s
voice, “What the hell is going on here? Break it up.”

She grabbed his arm and pulled his dagger
hand away from Python. Python took advantage of the moment and put
a fist into Jarrett’s midsection. He stumbled back, his knife
clattering to the ground. Furious, he ran at Python, taking them
both to the ground.

In the background, Jarrett could vaguely
hear Fiona’s voice. She was screaming something, but he couldn’t
make out the words. He was too intent on beating the hell out of
Python. They rolled on the ground, exchanging punches until Jarrett
felt a warm burst of energy that had him flying backward and
landing on his back several feet away from Python. He looked over
at Fiona and knew she’d used magic on them.

He stumbled to his feet, as Python did the
same. Python pulled a dagger from his boot as he rose and threw it,
but he was staggering and his aim was off. Instead of hitting
Jarrett, the knife veered well to the left and grazed Fiona’s arm,
leaving a long, thin slice in its wake.

“Son of a bitch,” Fiona screamed, shaking
her arm. Then she raised both hands and sent out bursts of energy
that sent both men flying into the building.

She pulled a six-inch-long, thin oak stick
from inside her vest. Jarrett knew she carried it to help focus her
power when she couldn’t carry her hanbo. She pointed the stick at
them, alternating between them. “That is enough! You are both
pending arrest under my authority as an agent of the Black Blade
Guard. If either of you moves, the blast I just gave you will feel
like a tickle compared to the next one.”

“You can’t arrest me,” Jarrett said,
struggling to stand. Some of his fury had been knocked out of him,
and he was starting to realize what a colossal mistake he’d just
made.

“You wanna watch me?” She asked, narrowing
her eyes at him and pointing the stick at him threateningly until
he slid back down into a sitting position.

He’d never seen her quite so angry, at least
not directed at him. Though he really didn’t believe she had the
authority to arrest him—he did outrank her—he felt it was probably
best not to test the theory right now.

She gave him one last look, daring him to
move, and then walked over to Python.

“Mr… Python, was it?”

Python grunted. “Yeah, that’s my name,
what’s it to ya, Blade?”

Fiona grabbed the front of his shirt and
pulled him up, slamming him against the building much like Jarrett
had done moments before. She poked the stick under his chin.
“Manners. I’m being polite to you, you be polite to me, got
it?”

“Yeah, sure. My name is Python, ma’am,” he
sneered the last word.

Fiona smirked. “A little better.” She patted
him down, throwing away a dagger from his waist and one in his
boot. “Now, can you tell me what happened?”

Python’s expression took on a false
innocence. “I was minding my own business when he attacked me. I
had to protect myself.”

Jarrett sputtered, but Fiona sent him a
quelling look and he quieted again.

“Okay, he just attacked you out of the blue,
and you have no idea why?” she asked Python.

“No. He started asking about some dame, and
then he hit me.”

“And what were you doing in Wet Willy’s
bar?”

“I’m new to the city. I was asking
directions.”

Fiona let out a long sigh, and then took a
step back. “Okay, you can go.”

Pulling himself to his feet, Jarrett stared
at her open-mouthed as Python retrieved his discarded weapons, shot
Jarrett a grin, and disappeared down the street.

The moment she walked back to him and said
the spell to shield their conversation, he snapped, “How could you
let him go?”

“I had no choice.”

“Yes you did. He assaulted a Black Blade
Guard Agent.”

“Really? Are we talking about the one that
is off duty and attacked him unprovoked? Or the one that was
inadvertently caught in the crossfire as he defended himself from
said attack?” She shot back at him, annoyed.

“He was lying.”

Fiona rolled her eyes. “Of-fucking-course he
was lying, Jarrett. Do I look like an idiot? It doesn’t matter. You
blew it. Even if he were the supplier we were looking for and I had
definitive proof, I’d still have to let him go. This was an
observe-and-track mission. We have nothing to arrest on, even if we
found him with an unknown substance, which we didn’t.”

“Fiona…” Jarrett said.

“Shut it,” she snapped. “I don’t want to
hear it. If he was the drug supplier, you blew any chance we had at
catching him. He’ll know we are on to him. And if he wasn’t,
because of you, my cover is blown. I have no chance of tracking
down the guy now. I’ll have to turn the case over to another agent
to do the undercover work.”

Jarrett understood how angry she was. He
would be the same if someone had screwed up one of his cases. “I’m
sorry.”

She glared at him. “I said I don’t want to
hear it. We’ll deal with this elsewhere. I need to go talk to Carl.
Stay here and cool down,” she said. She broke the silence spell,
turned on her heel, and headed back inside.

Jarrett rubbed his hands over his face. What
had he been thinking? No, he knew what he’d been thinking. Or
rather, not thinking. He’d let his rage and anger rule him.
Something he hadn’t done in ages. It would have been smarter to
trail Python and see where he went. Whether he was the drug dealer
or not, he might have lead Jarrett to proof of whether or not Cora
was alive. Fiona was right, he’d been stupid.

Fiona returned a few minutes later, her face
contorted in anger.

“Your buddy, Python, was not the drug
supplier. He asked Carl the location of the nearest brothel. Don’t
even open your mouth. Back to Pinky’s. Now.” She stalked off
without another word.

They walked back to the pub at a fast clip,
not speaking. When they arrived, Jarrett followed Fiona up to the
rooftop garden.

The moment they were alone, Fiona rounded on
him. “I never took you to be a moron, Campbell. I can’t even
imagine what would be so important to make you blow an undercover
op like that.”

“What’s going on? What’s all the shouting
about?” Anya asked as she ran onto the roof.

“Your boyfriend is a flipping idiot,” Fiona
yelled.

“He’s not…”

“I’m not…”

Jarrett and Anya sputtered at the same time,
but Fiona held up her hand impatiently.

“Not the issue right now,” she fumed. “Wait,
why are you up here?”

Anya narrowed her eyes at her sister.
“Because you two came running through the pub like a bat out of
hell and there is blood on your arm. I thought you might need
help.” Her voice level rivaled her sister’s.

Fiona glanced down at her arm, and then back
at Anya, her face and voice softer. “Sorry, An. It’s just a small
cut. I’m a little pissed at Jarrett right now, and I just need to
yell at him for a bit. I came up here so we wouldn’t wake
River.”

“If you don’t take it down a notch you’re
going to wake up the whole damned city,” Anya retorted and tossed
Fiona the towel in her hand. “Here, you can clean up your arm with
that. What are you yelling at him about? Is it personal or work
related? Do I need to stay and take sides?”

Jarrett nearly laughed out loud. Anya was
actually contemplating taking sides in an argument between him and
Fiona. He wondered if she would take his side against her sister.
Of course he knew he was in the wrong this time, but would she back
him up if she thought he was right?

“It’s work related,” Fiona said.

“Okay,” Anya said, looking prepared to leave
them alone.

“I totally screwed up. I deserve whatever
she dishes out,” Jarrett said before he realized what he was
doing.

Anya and Fiona just stared at him a long
minute, then Anya walked over and pulled him down into a kiss. It
was a quick, sweet kiss, but it made him burn to his toes.

“I like it when a man admits he’s wrong,”
she said. Then she turned back to Fiona. “Okay, you can kick his
ass now, but try not to break him. I have plans later.”

“Wow, you just turned fucking up into a ploy
to get into my sister’s pants. That takes skill, my friend,” Fiona
said when the roof door swung shut behind Anya.

Jarrett walked over to a bench under a small
grove of potted trees. “Yeah, not sure how that happened. I meant
it though. I fucked up and deserve whatever you want to say. Go
ahead, rage at me.”

Fiona sat down next to him.

“Damn it, I can’t. Not when you are being
all adult and taking responsibility and shit.” She slapped him on
the arm. “You took all the fun out of it. Asshole.”

They sat in silence for a while, and then
she said, “So, tell me what is up with you and this Python dude.
What kind of history could make you forget several centuries of
training?”

“The last time I saw him, I killed him.”

Fiona let out a long, low whistle. “Well,
yeah, okay. I can see where that would kind of throw you off. So,
who’s this Cora you were screaming at him about?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s classified,” he
said.

“Yeah, yeah. Special ops need to know mumbo
jumbo. Whatever.” She pulled her porta-scry from her vest pocket.
“You reckon Sam has clearance? Because when I tell him you wrecked
my op, he’ll find out why. Then he’ll tell me.”