Dead Ink Page 6

  It was a relief when Cutty had pulled up to pick her up. There was a tension between Lars and her that didn’t exist with Cutty or the other guys. She couldn’t figure out if Lars wanted her in the shop or couldn’t wait to get rid of her. When Lars looked at her, sometimes he seemed downright mad about something.

  Cutty, on the other hand, was all smiles when he’d picked her up today and brought her back to his house. It might have had something to do with the list of supplies she’d given him. She’d offered to cook and these boys definitely liked to eat.

  “You really didn’t need to do this,” Cutty said as he came to stand beside her. “But I do love chicken cutlets.”

  She smiled at him as she poured more breadcrumbs onto the plate. “I want to do this. You’re letting me stay in your home while I have nowhere else to go. I need to do this.”

  Cutty startled her as he hopped up and sat on the counter next to where she was dipping the chicken cutlets into the egg batter.

  He plucked a pretzel out of the open bag he’d carried with him. He popped one into his mouth and didn’t wait to finish chewing before he started talking. “You know, once we figure this situation out, the whole Malokin mess and the world going crazy, all that crap, I can help you get settled somewhere.”

  The fork clanked onto the bowl where she dropped it. “You can?” He’d help her rebuild a life? She’d been worried about how she’d make all the connections she’d need, figuring it was better to take it day-by-day instead of dwelling and becoming overwhelmed.

  “Don’t get too excited. There are some drawbacks. It’s not going to be like when you were human. You’re going to have to move every so often. You can’t plant roots down deep because we don’t age. Stay in a place for more than a decade and people start wondering why you still look so damn good, although the invention of Botox has really helped out. Still, you can only milk that for so long. It’s why we all move as a group, the guys I mean. It’s nice having some kind of a family.” He looked at her and smiled. “There aren’t many of us. It would be nice to have someone else around. You get sick of the same faces after a while.”

  Should she play it safe and say, hey, that’s great, or bring out the elephant? It took her less than a second to decide. “Aren’t you a little worried that I’m a murdering psycho?”

  He shrugged his shoulders as he popped another pretzel in his mouth. “I wasn’t until you said that,” he replied and then started laughing at his own joke.

  “Your buddies seem a bit more worried than you are.” She knew Lars didn’t trust her and she wouldn’t feel safe if she was alone in a room with Fate. Her connection to Malokin seemed to set him off worse than the rest.

  He popped another pretzel in his mouth as if it were the most trivial thing in the world that the other guys thought she might be a super villain. “Don’t worry about those jackasses. They’ll figure it out eventually.” It took her a second to decipher his words past the mouthful of pretzels.

  “I’m not used to anyone thinking I’m the spawn of Satan but there’s probably a learning curve to stuff like that.”

  He laughed, and looked at her like he was just starting to see her. “You’re funny. Were you sarcastic when you were alive?”

  “A bit but I tried to keep it toned down.”

  “Sarcasm is considered the lowest form of humor,” he said in mock admonishment.

  “Only people who suck at it say that. Everyone else laughs,” she said. “So why are you so sure I’m not going to kill you in your sleep tonight or I haven’t secretly poisoned the breadcrumbs?”

  He smiled. “Do you really want to know?”

  She smiled back. “Yes.”

  “Well, we told you about the agency that runs the Universe. There are all sorts of positions in the agency. There’s Murphy’s Law, Mother Earth, Cupid, every possible rumor or superstition you’ve ever heard of as a human, there’s someone doing that job. They’ve got a leprechaun that controls the amount of four-leaf clovers, a Black Cat Lady who sends out cats before something bad happens. There’s Fate who, if you can’t guess, helps steer people in the right direction. It’s all run and controlled by the agency, technically it’s called Unknown Forces of the Universe but that’s too much of a mouthful to say all the time.”

  “Who runs the agency?” she asked.

  “Upper management. They’re very reclusive and not usually seen. I’ve only met one myself and that wasn’t until all this shit started happening.

  “The guys and I all had jobs there before we quit. Now, there’s a difference between quitting and retiring. Retiring is above board, everyone in the agency knows you’re leaving. The higher ups make all the arrangements and you go on to another life and become a normal human afterward.” Cutty made air quotes when he said normal. “Quitting is on the down low, not agency approved. We didn’t know it was possible until Lars made the discovery. The thing none of us knew when we quit was whatever your job was before, you get to keep the perks.”

  “Did Malokin quit?” she asked, still having no real idea who he was.

  “No. He’s seems to have formed somewhat organically. We don’t know where he came from, but just as everyone else seems to have inclinations towards certain positions, his gig seems to be straight up anger and hatred.”

  Faith flipped a cutlet as she let the knowledge of what that meant soak in. “You’re saying that I was kidnapped by someone whose calling in life is getting people angry?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.” Cutty shrugged. “Everybody’s got their thing.”

  “It’s no wonder everyone is suspicious of me.”

  “It doesn't help that Malokin wanted you but I know you’re cool because I used to be Sixth Sense.”

  “Really?” Faith dropped a couple of cutlets in the pan and turned to wait for more details.

  Cutty continued, “When you’d get those strong gut feelings in your human life? Some of them were from me.”

  “Wow, that’s pretty cool.”

  “I know.” Cutty buffed his nails on his shirt.

  “So you know, like on some other level then, that I’m not a bad person?”

  He stopped eating his pretzels as if he had to impart some disappointing knowledge. “Well, no, not exactly. I didn’t really get any feeling or knowledge about you. Like I try and explain to everyone, I’m not a hundred sense. I’m Sixth Sense, it’s more of a fleeting type deal.”

  “Then you don’t feel confident?”

  “Oh, I do. I might not be getting an outright yes or no but I feel it in my gut and I’m never that wrong on anything.”

  “Yeah, I gotcha.”

  “Good. Because a lot of people want that hundred percent thing and it’s just not practical all the time.” His hands started waving around as if the pressure was too much.

  “It’s completely understandable.” She grabbed the bag of pretzels he’d discarded on the counter in his state of agitation and put them back in his hand.

  “Oh, thanks,” he said, popped another pretzel and seemed to calm down as he chewed.

  “So what was Lars?” she asked, trying to move the conversation away from anything upsetting for him.

  “You’ll have to ask him. Some positions are kind of personal.” He waved a finger, circling her face. “We should take a picture of you.”

  “A picture?” Of all the things she was concerned with, pictures weren’t on the top of her to do list.

  “You’re going to need ID. I know a guy. Actually, I know a lot of people. It’s what happens when you’re around for a long time.”

  “What’s cookin?” Bic asked as he walked in the kitchen with Angus and interrupting them.

  “These are fantastic!” Angus said.

  Faith turned to see he’d already lifted a cutlet and taken a bite.

  Cutty jumped down off the counter and immediately took a defensive position in front of the food, grabbing the fork lying beside the plate and wielding it in front of him. “Back off the chicken.”
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  “I can have chicken,” Angus said and then looked at Faith. “Tell him.”

  She didn’t have a chance to say anything.

  “You’ll get your allowed portion, no more!” Cutty said and then started to count up the cutlets.

  She was flipping the last of the chicken in the pan when she realized they were all looking at her. She ran a hand over her shirt, wondering if she’d flicked some raw egg on herself.

  “She made them,” Cutty said to the other two guys.

  “But she’s so little,” Angus said. “She can’t possible eat that much.”

  “Angus, just be happy Fate and Lars aren’t coming and you don’t have to share with them,” Cutty said.

  “They couldn’t come?” she asked, a little relieved that Fate was missing dinner but strangely confused over how she felt about Lars not coming.

  “Not sure what Fate is up to but Lars said he had to go help him out over at his place,” Angus explained, still trying to reach around Cutty for more chicken.

  Lars had barely spoken to her over the last two days, so why did she feel like someone had just finished off the last slice of cheesecake when she hadn’t had any yet? She couldn’t possibly be feeling disappointed. She shouldn’t even want this cheesecake. He was definitely the type that would make her sick for sure; way too rich and creamy. She grabbed a stack of plates and walked over to the table, telling herself life was much better without him around. Everybody knew cheesecake was bad for you.

  Chapter Nine

  Faith closed the door to the bedroom, took a step inside and immediately jumped back, slamming her spine against the door. Right outside her window was Keith, Malokin’s man, the one person she’d never wanted to see again. His tawny hair curled slightly over is forehead and his pale blue eyes stared at her. No one that bad should look so much like an angel. He stood barely a foot or two away from the window, only glass separating them.

  “I wouldn’t scream,” he said. “Or did you already tell them about us?” he asked in the smuggest way possible, guessing she hadn’t.

  He was right. She hadn’t said a word. Who would, with the way they’d acted, especially that guy, Fate. He’d looked like he’d wanted an excuse to kill her. What was she supposed to do? Hand him one?

  Her hand gripped the doorknob at her back as if it were a lifeline between Keith and the guys downstairs. But he was outside. He couldn’t get in. If he could’ve, she wouldn’t be standing in her room alone. She was still safe here. She could let this scene play out without raising the alarm and bringing more doubt crashing onto her.

  “What do you want from me?” She knew some of the desperation she was feeling leaked out into her voice. He heard it. She saw the glint in his eye.

  “Why did you leave?” He said it as if she’d committed a crime against him, and not the other way around.

  “Because I don’t belong with you. I was killed so that you could have me. Why would I possibly want to stay with you?” He really was crazy. Inhuman and insane added up to a very bad combination. Why was she was trying to speak rationally with someone she knew wasn’t sane? It was pointless, and yet she couldn’t help herself from trying to handle this situation like they were two normal people with an everyday difference.

  “You were going to die that night, either way. I had nothing to do with the man who stabbed you. You were his third victim that night.” His chin went up and his lips pursed. He paused, as if waiting for some sort of reaction from her. Did it matter that her death had been inevitable? No, not to her. He still stole her life. She should’ve moved on from this world. Even if she refused to mourn the loss, he’d still been the culprit. There was also the problem of who he was. She’d rather cease to exist at all then be with him in any way.

  She walked closer to the window, feeling more and more confident that he couldn’t get in or he would’ve already.

  “Will you come with me now?” he asked, obviously getting the wrong impression.

  She dragged both of her hands through her hair in exasperation. “Never. I would willingly slit my own throat before I went with you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re making a mistake, and I’m not a patient man. You’ve already put me to a lot of trouble. You were promised to me and you will be mine, however long it takes or whatever the cost.”

  Growing braver with each minute that he didn’t breach the room or try to come inside, she walked up to the window and grabbed the Roman shade’s cord. “Bye, bye,” she said, smiled wide and dropped it down in front of him.

  She walked away and into the bathroom, telling herself she wanted to take a shower and she wasn’t doing it to hide. And when she stayed in there longer than normal, she told herself it was because the water felt that good on her skin.

  By time she dried off and got dressed, she’d worked up the nerve to go back over to the window. Refusing to be a coward, she pulled the shade up. He was gone.

  She settled into the bed, still rattled but proud of herself for not screaming bloody murder.

  She tossed and turned for a while before she finally fell asleep. She woke to a dream of rain and made up for the screaming she hadn’t done earlier.

  Chapter 10

  It was four in the morning and Lars had only had about two hours of sleep when his phone rang. He rolled over, intending to hit the mute button, figuring it was a booty call. Sadly, he found himself only interested in one piece of ass lately and that was one call he wouldn’t make.

  His finger changed direction to answer as he saw Cutty’s name flash across the screen. Cutty didn’t call this late unless there was a problem.

  “Yeah,” Lars said as he answered.

  “We had an incident.”

  Lars shot up out of bed, all the drowsiness of sleep immediately wiped from his system. “What happened?”

  “Obviously something shitty or I wouldn’t be calling you right now.” There was a dragged out sigh afterward that warned Lars he wouldn’t like what Cutty was going to say next.

  “Are you going to tell me what?” His hand clenched the phone and he had to force his grip to relax before the screen cracked. The local phone shops were closed up and he didn’t have a spare.

  “Faith received a message,” Cutty said, after a few very long seconds.

  “What was it?” Lars hit the speaker button and dropped the phone on the bed. He grabbed the jeans he’d just taken off, which hadn’t made it to the hamper yet, before Cutty had the time to reply.

  “What are you doing? What’s all that shuffling?” Cutty asked.

  “I’m getting dressed.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? You need to ask that?” He threw a fresh t-shirt on over his head.

  “Okay, probably for the best anyway.”

  “What was it? You still haven’t told me.”

  “If you’re coming, best you wait. You really need to see it in person to get the full context.”

  “I’ll be there in ten.” Lars hit the end button and slipped the phone in his back pocket. He grabbed his keys, left his apartment and floored it the whole way over to Cutty’s.

  He got there in under five minutes, less than half the time it normally took him. The door was locked, which was understandable considering what just happened. He leaned on the doorbell for the second time, his body tensing with the delay. What if Malokin had returned? He was considering how long was an appropriate amount of time to wait before he busted the door down. He’d just come to the opinion that he didn’t care what was appropriate when Cutty opened it.

  “Were you going to kick my door down?” Cutty said, seeing Lars’ position.

  “If you took another second, yes.”

  Cutty shook his head and walked back inside, Lars at his heels.

  Angus and Bic were already there. They played poker on Tuesday nights and it could run pretty late. He was usually there as well, along with some of the locals from town who had no idea who they were really playing cards with.

  He’d
bailed out on tonight. After watching Faith walking around the shop all day, he’d thought it was best to keep some distance between them.

  Angus and Bic were both standing by the couch, hovering. Sitting there was Faith, her hair wet and in a makeshift bun on top of her head. She looked rattled but okay. Maybe it hadn’t been that bad.

  “She took a shower after the message?” Lars asked, finding it peculiar.

  “Yes. Let me tell you, that chick is a lot tougher than she looks,” Cutty said, clearly impressed with her, although Lars wasn’t sure where this new esteem had come from.

  “Where’s this message?” Lars asked while his eyes had a hard time moving from where Faith sat.

  “Follow me,” Cutty said, and Lars realized he’d taken a step toward Faith without even thinking about it.

  He stopped in his tracks and then nodded to her. She returned the silent greeting with a smile. She might be putting up a good front for the guys but he was the only one who could hear her heart rate.

  It was a leftover gift from his previous career as the Grim Reaper, when he used the sound to confirm the correct course of action. When a human was fated to die soon, there was a certain pattern to their heartbeat, a certain smell to their skin.

  All the guys had their strong points but he was the only one who knew how upset she truly was, whether she let on or not.

  Lars followed Cutty down the hall, thinking that they were heading to either his office or some other place for privacy.

  “We were playing cards, but Faith didn’t want to join in,” Cutty explained as he walked. “Said she was too tired, but I think she just needed some alone time. When she went to her room, we all gave her space.”

  Cutty stopped in front of his guest room, one Lars had crashed in many times himself.

  “It got delivered to her room? And you left the message in there?” Lars asked, thinking it was a strange action and so unlike Cutty.

  Cutty took a deep breath before he answered, “I didn’t have a choice.”