Between Jobs Page 15

  “Maybe it doesn’t want to be a sword today,” I suggested, turning around to face my psychos.

  “Kugae aniya,” said JinYeong impatiently, rising. He padded over to me, socks soft against the tiles, and took the umbrella away from me.

  “Rude,” I said.

  JinYeong ignored that. He set the umbrella against the wall again, and waved one slender finger in my face. “Jal bwa.”

  Oh great. One more annoying thing to add to his other fun personality traits. Seriously, who waves their fingers in people’s faces anymore?

  He raised one eyebrow at me; jerked his head at the umbrella.

  “All right, all right, I’m looking!”

  Maybe his hand made a colour in the air as he went to pick up the sword. Maybe it passed through a colour. Whatever it was, I could see the effect of it; and in the relief of that effect, I saw the sword instead of the umbrella.

  “Oh, cool!” I said.

  JinYeong smirked at me, and let it go. It was an umbrella again, but despite the smugness of JinYeong’s back as he padded away to the table again, I could see that the umbrella could almost be—might perhaps agree to be—a sword again.

  I stuck out my tongue at JinYeong; he obviously thought I couldn’t do it, and was baiting me. Still, he’d shown me enough to make me think I could—yep! There it was under my fingers, folded leather.

  Zero said something under his breath, and so did JinYeong, but I was too busy trying to persuade the sword to be a sword to pay any attention to what it was they said. It was there beneath my fingers, but for some reason it didn’t seem to want to come out properly.

  I glared at the yellow brightness of it. “How come I can’t do it again?”

  “We’re more interested to know why and how you could do it at all,” remarked Athelas. He was back to being entertained. “Perhaps you’re not motivated enough, Pet? Perhaps we should recreate the circumstances again? JinYeong is certainly hungry for blood again.”

  “Dunno,” I said; and for some reason my voice sounded sulky. Was I actually annoyed that a sword didn’t want to play with me? “Maybe it really wanted to be found yesterday.”

  “I sincerely hope not,” Athelas said, his eyes bright with rueful laugher. “The ramifications, Zero; the ramifications!”

  “It’s ridiculous to think about,” said Zero abruptly. “Find your amusement somewhere else. This is nonsense.”

  “Certainly,” Athelas said, and there was that suggestion of a bow again. “Pet, stop playing with the umbrella and clear away. We’ve time for a cup of tea before we take ourselves off to the morgue.”

  “They let people into the morgue at this time of day?” I asked, but I put the umbrella back down and cleared the table anyway.

  “Certainly not,” said Athelas. “But we’re not really people, now, are we?”

  “Got that right,” I muttered, tapping the on button on the kettle. “Was the murdered bloke really one of your lot? He looked like the bloke across the road.”

  Zero flicked a look at me but didn’t answer.

  It was Athelas who said thoughtfully, “Seeing that our pet inexplicably can see Behind and a number of things Between, perhaps it’s not a bad idea to take her word for it that our victim was, in fact, a human.”

  “I’d rather make sure,” said Zero shortly.

  I found myself exchanging a glance with Athelas; neither of us bothered to argue about it, and later, when they’d finished their tea and coffee and got up to go out, Athelas seemed content to go out.

  JinYeong might threaten and snarl, and Athelas might turn the room to ice with his voice, but when Zero made up his mind, both of them stopped arguing.

  They all left together while I was filling the sink and gathering dishes; Zero and Athelas to the morgue and JinYeong to the hospital. Since he didn’t look hurt, I guess he was going there to pinch some blood. Neither Zero nor Athelas asked if I wanted to visit the morgue; and I mean, okay, I didn’t want to, but they could have asked, you know?

  I was only half way through the washing up when I heard one of them at the front door again. I knew they could travel Between and get places quicker than if they walked, but that was pretty quick, even for them.

  “That was flamin’ fast!” I said, impressed. I came around the corner as I said it, wiping my hands on my jeans, and stopped in my tracks.

  It was the islander detective. I stared at him for a bit because it was so unexpected, and he stared at me like I was just as unexpected to him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I blinked at him. “I live here. What are you doing here?”

  More surprise. Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.

  “You live here? You live with them?”

  “Dunno about you,” I said, “but I reckon this is the part where I call the police, not answer questions.”

  “I am the police,” he said, and showed his badge.

  I made a big show of looking it over, which annoyed him because he’d only meant to flash it at me. “Reckon you still shouldn’t be in here,” I said, peering at the badge even more closely. Detective Tuatu, was it?

  He snapped the badge shut.

  I said, “Wasn’t done looking.”

  Strike a light. That was a look.

  “Yes, you were. I came in,” he said, licking his lips and hesitating, “because I thought I heard someone calling for help.”

  “Good grief,” I said. “Thought they only said that in the movies.”

  The detective’s jaw tightened.

  “Hey, don’t blame me if you broke in because you thought the house was empty and it wasn’t.”

  Actually, I’d forgotten to turn the lights on again after Zero and the others left; they didn’t seem to need the lights, and I’d gotten so used to living in the dark while I was squatting that it was hard to remember I could have them on now.

  Flamin’ fantastic. I’d only been living in the same house as Zero and JinYeong for a month, and I was already getting as creepy as them. Athelas wasn’t as bad, but still.

  He said defensively, “I wasn’t breaking—”

  “Yeah, you were.”

  He fished out a card and said stiffly, “You can make a complaint to this number if you—”

  “Coffee?”

  “What?”

  “Want a coffee? I was just gunna make some.” Besides, JinYeong would probably be home from the hospital soon, and it would annoy him if I had someone in the kitchen. There aren’t that many things I really enjoy these days, but annoying JinYeong is high on that short list.

  “Do I— I don’t drink coffee.”

  “Tea?” With Athelas’ fondness for tea, there was enough in the house. Zero and JinYeong might only drink coffee if it was made for them, but Athelas would take the trouble to make his own tea if there was no one to make it for him. It hadn’t taken long for me to discover that the gorgeous coffee in the red tin must have been particularly for me—some kind of amusing joke for Athelas, knowing I was there, knowing he knew it, but I didn’t know he knew…

  Actually, Athelas is kind of creepy, too.

  “I—” the detective stopped. “Yes, please.”

  “You like earl grey?”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t say anything else to me until we were in the kitchen. Mind you, I didn’t say anything, either; and I think he was still confused. But I figure if he’s there, why not ask him some questions?

  After the kettle boiled I poured him a cup of tea and asked, “So what are you doing sneaking back in here, anyway, Detective Tuatu?”

  For the second time, the detective froze. “Sneaking back?”

  “Sugar?”

  “No.”

  I pushed the cup toward him, handle-first. “Yeah, I saw you the first time, too. You do a lot of breaking and entering for a cop.”

  “Actually, it’s only entering,” he said. “That’s the idea of the picks.”

  Rude. He was getting comfortable pretty q
uick.

  “You said you live here,” he added, before I could open my mouth. “But I haven’t seen you.”

  “Been watching the house, have you?”

  His eyes flickered down to his teacup. “If you’ve been around those three, I should have seen you. Who are you?”

  “Nunya,” I said.

  Nunya business, for you blokes that don’t know.

  Hoping to change the subject, I asked, “What’s so interesting about this place?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “But they’re interesting.”

  I snorted, and made coffee for myself. “Yeah, well; that’s one way to put it.”

  “Are you going to tell them about this?”

  I thought about that. As a loyal pet, I should definitely tell them all about it. I could feel the instinct to tell Zero; to feel the warmth of approval for doing it. Problem was, I was a pet that could think, and this thinking pet was pretty sure it was more useful to get information than to give away the source of that information.

  “Not if you answer my questions,” I said, taking a moment to savour the scent and warmth of my coffee before I took the first sip. “No need to tell ’em you’ve been letting yourself in. What are you looking for?”

  He grinned. It took me by surprise, because mostly he’d done a lot of thoughtful looks and scowls, and I wasn’t prepared for how much younger it made him look. His teeth were very white against his skin.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “And that’s the truth.”

  It probably was, too. I might have been stymied if I hadn’t been living with my three psychos for a while now, but they had a way of asking questions from the right angles, and if there’s anything I’m good at, it’s learning.

  “What made you want to look for something enough to break in?” I asked. “Especially if you don’t know what you’re looking for. It’s a whole lotta risk for you, and not much to gain.”

  “That.” The detective looked rueful. I think he’d been hoping not to have to say; he was pretty honest. “That was something…weird. Actually, there were two weird things. The first thing is the way they keep getting information out of my lab.”

  “Your lab?”

  He sighed. “The police department’s lab. They seem to get the results before I do—I’ve seen that skinny one in the suit walk right through the doors without being stopped by a single person. I followed him the other day; all the way to the lab. He left with some paperwork that should never leave the building without signing in, signing out, or signing anything to say he was taking the papers. And the officers looked—they looked—”

  I grinned. That was going to be a tough one for him. I was pretty sure that was an extension of JinYeong’s personality—or maybe it was a vampire thing—a kind of opposite to the aura Athelas had told me about. What had he called it? Manipulation? That thing where people just did what my three psychos told them to do.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I understand that.”

  “And then, there’s the way they got this house.”

  I looked up from my tea, startled. “What? What do you mean, the way they got this house?”

  “It’s been under observation, and the real estate agents were strongly encouraged not to rent it again without telling me. They sold it. Not a word to me, either.”

  “There was a murder here—actually, two—several years ago. The case was never closed but we had a good idea it was part of a serial case where another incident usually takes place after a certain amount of years. We strongly encouraged the real estate agents not to rent it again or sell it until that period was up.”

  “Strongly encouraged?”

  “And I’ve been dropping by every month or so for a quick look.”

  “Oh,” I said. So that’s what he meant by observation. He must have been pretty flamin’ good, because I’d never seen him.

  “Then they moved in. No trouble, no fuss, no mention from the agent to us; and yesterday they sold the place to those three. I want to know what their connection is to this house—and this case, for that matter.”

  “You think they’re connected to the murder?”

  “I’m certain of it.”

  Oh well, good for him. It wouldn’t help him, but he was a clever cookie. I might actually have to warn Zero about the detective, if it came to that.

  “Do you know what the most interesting thing is, though?”

  Was he pausing for effect? “Go on, tell me,” I said, pinching a biscuit before he could finish them all.

  “Those three—I don’t know much about them, and they’re annoyingly hard to pin down to anything, but I’ve at least got names for ’em. You, now: I can’t find a name, a photo; not a single trace to tell me who you are.”

  “That is interesting,” I said. He must not have got to the café where I used to work, then. That was probably just as well. There was still about half a year before I turned eighteen, and I didn’t want to run the chance of being sent off to the group home or anywhere else. I only had to keep my head down for another six months. “Fancy that.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Don’t have one,” I said. It was sort of true—in this house, at this time, at least. I was a pet who wasn’t allowed to have a name. Funny thing is, we’d once had a pet I wasn’t allowed to name. He was the Christmas turkey, and he’d been killed just before Christmas.

  I winced. I wished I hadn’t remembered that.

  “Everyone has a name.”

  “Christmas turkeys don’t,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  “I don’t.”

  “You must have!”

  “Well, I don’t, and that’s all there is to it,” I said. “If you’re going to sit there and complain at me, I won’t give you any more biscuits.”

  “All right, if you don’t want to give me your name, what about these men—why are you with them? You’re a bit too young to be boarding with three grown men, aren’t you?”

  “Only two of them are grown up,” I said. The other was a sulky vampire who’d probably spent the last fifty odd years at exactly the same mental age. And speaking of the sulky vampire, that was a pretty familiar step outside the door.

  JinYeong in the house with the detective; this was going to be interesting.

  “Don’t panic,” I said to the detective, who looked far too comfortable and relaxed to have heard the sound of JinYeong at the door, “but one of ’em is about to come home.”

  He might have jumped up and sworn if there had been time. There wasn’t. JinYeong came into the kitchen at a predatory prowl, his eyes narrow and his teeth showing. He saw us and stopped short, astonishment taking the place of blind instinct to hunt the warm-blooded human who wasn’t supposed to be in the house.

  The detective stared at JinYeong, and JinYeong stared at the detective.

  “Petteu,” said JinYeong, showing the slightest edge of canine, “Mwoh hanun kkoya?”

  Oh, I knew that one. He was asking me what on earth I was doing. “The detective came to see us,” I said. “He saw you at the police station before.”

  The detective’s brows rose. “You understand him?”

  “Not really,” I said. “But he can understand me, so mostly it works out.”

  JinYeong gave me a warning look, his lips pressed together, and I grinned at him. If he wanted to say anything that needed understanding, he’d have to say it in English.

  “Want a cuppa?”

  He blinked. Considered. “Ne,” he said, as if conferring a favour. I might not know much about vampires in general, but you can distract JinYeong from practically anything by offering him food or drink.

  I boiled the jug again, and turned around to see JinYeong gazing narrowly at the detective. I might have been worried if his eyes weren’t back to normal instead of narrow and hungry as they had been earlier. JinYeong had definitely had a bit of blood since I saw him last.

  The detective didn’t stare back this time; he was trying to sip his tea nonc
halantly. I know from experience that it’s not easy to be nonchalant in the face of JinYeong’s disturbingly non-human gaze, so I gave him full marks for the attempt. It was pretty nearly successful.

  When he’d finished his tea, he put the cup down very precisely, and said, “I’d better be going, then.”

  I grinned, and I don’t know if it was that or the detective which annoyed JinYeong, but he said, silkily, “Aniyo.”

  That meant no. I knew that one.

  Detective Tuatu didn’t; he still got up. JinYeong was on his feet in a moment, edging in front of the detective before he had a chance to take a step, and said a single, short sentence, the pointed tips of his teeth showing through grimly smiling lips.

  Detective Tuatu cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, sure,” then edged away with the pretence of picking up his teacup.

  JinYeong looked at me, astonished. I don’t know what he’d discovered to make him need to share his astonishment with the pet, but I only shrugged at him. He said something at me in Korean, making shooing motions at the detective and then at the door, and for a brief moment I thought about pretending I didn’t understand.

  The detective had more sense than me. He came around the kitchen island to put his teacup in the sink, and said, “I’m off.”

  “Coward,” I said, but he didn’t crack a smile.

  “I’ll see you around,” he said, and headed back down through the hall and out the front door.

  “Not if I see you first,” I muttered. He wasn’t as creepy as my three psychos, but he was definitely threatening. If I make a cuppa for a bloke in my kitchen—all right, their kitchen—he shouldn’t turn around and make threats at me. It’s flamin’ rude.

  “Petteu—”

  “Don’t start with me,” I said to JinYeong. “I’m just a pet. I can’t stop people coming through the door, can I?”

  JinYeong narrowed his eyes at me.

  I said, “Woof!” at him and turned my back to wash the coffee things.

  Chapter Nine

  Zero and Athelas came back fairly humming with something—energy, or magic; or maybe it was sheer enjoyment, I don’t know. Zero was bigger and brighter, and Athelas was more moonlike than usual, all quiet beauty and terrible eyes. Whatever they’d been doing at the morgue, it had agreed with them.