The Last Smile in Sunder City (The Fetch Phillips Archives #1) - Luke Arnold Page 0,77

comes into your head to save them. A sick joke. Quick chat. Then back to tackle the questions again.

A police-issue healer came by to see Simms, dragging a wooden case on wheels. She was a sweet-looking Banshee who knew basic medicine. I couldn’t imagine what a nightmare it was to be a good-looking girl in the Sunder City cop-shop. Let alone a voiceless one. Simms took a hit of whiskey while the nurse cracked her ankle back in place and strapped it up with bandages.

“Will you please look over this lug, Meredith? He almost had his face scratched off by someone he tried to help.”

Did I help? Could we have brought the old guy back?

The questions were pushed away by tender fingers that wiped the dirt from my forehead and sewed my skin together. When she was done, she opened up her case to clean her hands with alcohol and I couldn’t help but peek inside.

“How about something for the pain?” I asked.

She looked from me to the drink in my hand to the mountain of glasses on the ground. She thought she’d made her point until I took a bronze bill from my jacket. “I’ll take a couple of Clayfields.”

Those eyes sure could dance. Meredith stared at the bill long enough to know it was real then back to her boss with a look somewhere between pleading and fear. Simms nodded. The Banshee looked at Simms long enough to make sure that she was real, then she snatched the bronze note from my mud-caked fingers.

She handed over the whole pack. I’d still overpaid for them but it was worth it for not having to leave my seat or wait another second.

I popped a twig into my lips and almost fucking cried. I’d been so long without one, I could taste the sweetness. There was a chill between my teeth as it took my nervous system for a spin. I held the packet out to Simms and she curved her scaled brow.

“They look pretty serious, Fetch.”

“You got a broken bone, don’t you? That sounds pretty serious to me.”

She selected one of the deep-green sticks and smelled it cautiously. Then she slid it on to the tip of her forked tongue. After a moment, she laughed.

“Shit!”

“Right?”

“You do this all the time?”

“I’ve got my reasons.”

She took another hit, chuckled, and relaxed right back into her chair.

“No wonder you come across like such a tough guy. You’re snowed up to your eyeballs. During your next interrogation, I’ll tell the boys they have to work a little harder.”

We laughed, and I waited till the Clayfield took effect before I dared to ask the question that had been in the front of my mind the whole time.

“Hey, I’m still working on that case at the teahouse. Doesn’t look like either of the victims were the guy I’m after, but it could be connected. Mind if I have a look at the bodies?”

For a second, I thought she’d passed out. But then she rolled her head to the side with a knowing smile on her cracked lips.

“You wanna see the puddle, right?” I nodded. She shook her head, slowly, like it might slip off her neck if she moved it too fast. “You’re pushing your luck, Fetch.”

“Please. I’m worried someone might get hurt if I don’t work this out.”

The cop in her woke up enough to push past the painkillers.

“Then tell us what’s going on.”

“I will. In two more days. Sooner, hopefully. I just need to check the bodies.”

It took her a long time to think it over, but eventually she agreed. I didn’t give her time to take it back. I got a pen and paper from inside so she could write me out a letter.

While she was writing, I snuck inside, paid the bill and left Simms with another pint. Would she still bust my balls when she saw me again? Probably. Maybe that was part of the fun. Friends serve a purpose but every man needs a few good enemies to remind him who he is.

I walked around the corner past muddy crowds and crying kids. There was more work to be done and maybe tomorrow I’d help them do it.

But that would have to wait. Because Edmund Rye was tied to the teahouse now. The League of Vampires had something to hide. And I had a date with a melted body in a bucket.

23

I wouldn’t say I was friends with Portemus, but we’d always had an arrangement: I’d fill him in on