Dead Lucky (5 page)

"Get the fuck out of the way," I shouted. I put the gun forward, getting the desired response. The way parted for me, too, and I hit the stairs and pounded up them, my lungs burning before I made the third step. He was close, but not close enough. I saw him stop and turn back, and I knew I had to go faster.

This door wasn't big enough for him.
 

I reached it and shoved it open, coming face-to-face with the hostess. She had her own weapon pointed at me, but she wasn't prepared for me to burst in. I grabbed her wrist and knocked her aside, pulling the door open and rushing out into the street.

I heard the whine of a much bigger door opening around the back. The dumpster was halfway between the two.

A cough. A dead run. My lungs on fire.
 

I saw the ogre's shadow on the corner of the building, bigger and scarier magnified by the street lights. I grabbed the lip of the dumpster without slowing, slipping under the cover and falling into the muck.

Right next to Evan.

"I saw you," the ogre said, his voice like gravel. "You can come out, or I can pull you out, you little shit."

I put my hand on Evan's wrist. "Time to get up, Evan. You want a fight? You got it."

His head turned towards me. "What the fuck are you doing in here?"

The ogre kicked the dumpster. It slid back and slammed into the wall, shaking us both. "I said, come out."

"Trouble?" Even asked.

"Just get out there."

He did his best smile and gathered himself in the trash, pulling the guns from beneath his arms. "Be right back, bitch."
 

The ogre kicked the dumpster one more time. Evan rode it out, and then rolled between the cover and the side. I heard him thump onto the ground.

"Who the hell are you?" the ogre asked.

"Backup."
 

Gunshots echoed, and the ogre grunted in pain. Leathers had tough skin, ogres' one of the toughest, and the bullets I was carrying were standard slugs, not hollow points or armor piercing. They would hurt, and the wounds might even go deep enough to bleed. That was about it.

Evan knew it. He was just trying to piss him off, make him careless, like I had done with the guard. Bullets had a tendency to do that.

I heard a crack, and then footsteps. I rolled over and lifted the lid of the dumpster then, peering out into the street. Evan was on his back twenty feet away, the ogre moving towards him. He'd given me a clear out. I fell out of the garbage and onto the pavement.
 

"That hurt," Evan said, getting to his feet before the ogre reached him. The leather skidded to a stop, confused. He hadn't realized what he was fighting.

I started walking towards them, hugging the wall. They were only a dozen feet from the corner, close to drawing the attention of the crowds beyond. Evan's head tilted slightly at my push. Then he attacked.

A six foot corpse against a twelve foot ogre shouldn't have been any kind of contest at all, except the dead were powered by magic. Their muscles weren't limited to their living strength, and they didn't feel pain.
 

Evan hopped forward and kicked the hulk in the knee. The force couldn't break ogre bones, but it was enough to twist and wrench the body, forcing him to put his arm to the ground to keep from falling. It brought his face closer, and Evan jumped forward and hit it with a strong right hook. The ogre's head turned sideways and he did fall over this time, laid flat by the blow.

"Fuck, yeah," Evan said, hopping up onto him. "I could have kicked your ass when I was still alive, to-"

A massive hand swatted him away again, sending him rolling on the ground, the old tux tearing apart. Evan skidded out into the street, drawing a round of surprised shouts from the tourists.
 

The ogre sat up.

"Not gonna go down easy?" He reached under his jacket, producing a serious hand-cannon. He aimed it towards Evan, holding fire while he waited for a clean shot, having completely forgotten about me.
 

I rounded the building and stepped out into the throng, breathing heavy and trying hard not to die right there. I pulled on Evan and he started following behind me, staying close to the rest of the crowds. One shot from the ogre's bazooka and it wouldn't matter if he was already dead. He'd be in pieces, and I would be out one of my best corpses.

I glanced back when I reached the corner. The ogre was standing at the edge of the street watching me. He'd put the gun away, and he wasn't making any moves towards us. His job was to keep the Oubliette secure, not chase after necromancers. There was no doubt he'd phone it in to Despre, which was fine.
 

Knowing Dannie, she was keeping him too busy to take the call.

CHAPTER NINE

Love the one you're with.

I didn't have my cell with me, which meant the only way to get back in communication with Dannie was to retreat to the Jambalaya and wait for her to call. I got stuck listening to Evan bitch about pulling him from the fight before it was over the entire walk back, in between pauses while he collected more compliments on his 'costume'.
 

Only in New Orleans.

I sent him back to the tub as soon as we returned, making a few trips down to the ice machine before collapsing on the bed in a fit of coughing and bloody spit. I was going to need the meds when we got back to Chicago. It was a good thing this job would pay for them.

The bad news was that I was getting too weak to keep using Evan. The death magic sucked like that, stealing the little bit of life you had in exchange for the power.
 

I was sleeping when the phone rang. I reached over and grabbed it of the nightstand. "Dannie."

"Conor, you okay?"

"Same as usual. Evan's off the job though, I don't have the juice left to keep him in line."

"Shit. Okay, well with any luck we won't need him again. You have a pen?"

I'd put a pen and paper next to the phone in anticipation. I pushed myself into a sit, stifled a cough, and picked it up. "Yeah."

"Flood and Florida, Lower Ninth Ward near the Canal. It's a fancy high-rise. Of course Despre owns it, and of course it's the penthouse."

"Dice?"

"I tried. I couldn't get past his wandering hands."

"Did you-"

"Why do you even ask me that? I'm not a fucking prostitute. Jumped in the shower with him, felt each other up a little. Then I put him to sleep. At least he's got a nice body for an old guy."

Science was just as good as magic for some things. Dannie carried enough tranquilizer to drop an elephant. "So, where are they?"

She laughed softly. "Seriously, Conor, you need to get over here. I'll make sure the doorman lets you up."

"Can I ditch the wig?"

"Yeah."

"Makeup?"

She sighed. "Yes. Will you just get the fuck over here?"

"I'll be there as fast as I can. I'm coughing blood."
 

I could feel her thaw over the phone. The statement told her everything she needed about the state I was in. "He should be out for another hour or two at least. Just get here. I can't spot the dice without you."

"I'm on my way."
 

I hung up, leaned over, and coughed again. Then I went into the bathroom and spit the blood into the sink, ripped off the rat, and wiped my face clean. Being revealed again, I could see the makeshift disguise had been an improvement.
 

A quick hop on Dannie's laptop gave me directions to the address, five miles from my current location. I called in for a cab again, pointing them to an address a few blocks away, and then changed from the ripped and dirty tux to my more standard boots, black pants, and hoodie. I re-armed myself with our remaining sidearm, feeling pissed about losing three guns at the Oubliette, and then made my way down into the lobby.
 

I didn't even notice the stares anymore.

The driver was the same guy from the first trip. He laughed when I got in.
 

"I knew it had to be you. You're the only sapien I've ever picked up here."

"I can't be the only one."

He laughed again. "Only one that wasn't a whore. Unless you are a whore, in which case, you're the ugliest whore I've ever seen."

"Are you always this polite to your fares?"

"Where's the girl you were with. Now, she was hot."

"I'm going to meet her at a friends'. I spilled champagne on my tux while I was eating shrimp off a naked virgin's thighs and had to come back to change."

He cracked up at that one. "In this town... you never know. Where to?"

I gave him the address, and he got me there without another word.
 

"You know how to reach me if you need another ride. Or if you need help with any more shrimp."

I watched him pull away and vanish before I started walking towards Despre's apartment.

The Lower Ninth hadn't always been pretty or rich. That had changed after the reversal, as new upward housing moved the residents around and created new opportunities for the area. Now it was filled with rows of upscale shops and residences, none of them more ostentatious or impressive than the 'White Tower', the apartment building Despre owned and lived in. I stared up at it from the marbled entrance, ignoring the doorman and valet standing with me and looking bored.

"Can I help you?" the doorman asked. He was an older gentleman, with wispy white hair and a pleasant smile.

"You can get the door for me."

He looked me over. "You don't live here. Who are you here to see?"

"Despre."

"You're here to see Despre? I-"

I wasn't in the mood. "I'll get the door myself."
 

I walked past him, ignoring the rest of his sentence. I wound up surrounded by more marble, plenty of gilded furniture, and lots of dark wood. A reception desk sat off to one side, and a security guard stood near the back wall by the elevators, behind a tiered water fountain. Judging by his smug expression, the lack of a holster, and the presence of the water, I had a feeling he was a user.

"Can I help you?" the well-organized woman at the desk asked when I approached. She was doing her best not to give me a look of disdain at my appearance.

"Yes. I'm here to see Olivier. I believe my sister Shari called down?"

She looked down at a clipboard with a few names and signatures on it. "Yes, she did. Just sign here. You'll need a visitor badge to go up in Mr. Despre's private elevator."

I took the board and scratched a fake signature next to my fake name. She took it back, picked up a card and ran it in front of a scanner.
 

"Here you go, Mr. Jones."

"Thank you."

I made my way from the desk to the elevator, holding my head up and acting like I owned the place. I approached the guard. He was tall, dark, and skinny, with a stern, serious face. His head didn't move, but his eyes followed me the entire way in.

"Howdy," I said with a nod.

"Good evening, sir," he replied, his lips barely moving. I felt a tweak, and resisted the urge to look at the fountain. There was no sense giving myself away for a party trick.

"Which one of these is Despre's?" I waved at the bank of elevators.

He pointed at the back wall. There was a small slot for the card embedded in itl. Nothing else. I went back and stuck the card in. As soon as I removed it, the wall slid away, revealing a dark wood embellished elevator. I glanced back at the guard and stepped in.

CHAPTER TEN

One is the loneliest number.

It was a quick ride up. The doors opened into a huge atrium, with twenty foot walls, a glass ceiling, and all kinds of tropical plants and water flows running along the space.
 

Dannie was already waiting for me.

"It's about time. You look like shit."
 

She was back in her maroon gown, the makeup gone and her hair still slightly damp.

"Where's Despre?"

"Still in bed. I gave him a pretty strong dose."

I smiled. "Let's get the dice and get the hell out of here. I'm feeling the burn."
 

"This way."

She led me out of the jungle, through a heavy door into a large, open living space. We were surrounded by full-length glass windows, and I could see all of the city, and out past the wall to the darkness beyond. Looking west, I could see a bit of light out in the middle of the black, and I knew it had to be Marie's estate.

She pointed at a winding staircase. "That leads up to the bedrooms and showers. The entire roof is glass. It's pretty, and romantic as hell."

"Falling for Mr. Despre?"

"Admiring his money, that's all."

I followed her across the open space to a heavy door. The dark glass of a retina scanner was mounted near eye level.
 

"His office. He went in there for a minute, and when I searched his coat the dice were gone."

"We didn't bring anything to get around this. We need his eyeball."
 

 
She pushed the door open. "I took care of entry already. He didn't try to hide the room from me, he just asked me to wait outside."

I looked over at the latch and saw she had gotten a splint on it while Despre wasn't looking. It had kept it from closing all the way and enabling the lock.

We went inside. It was your standard rich guy's office. Dark wood, fancy paintings, lots of books, immaculate.
 

"Why did you need me to come down again?" I asked.
 

"Just give me a second." She walked over to one of the bookshelves. "I was waiting outside, so I didn't see exactly what he did to open the hidden space."

"He has a secret evil lair?"

"Kind of."

She pulled on each of the books. She put her hands behind them, looking for a button or something. The minutes passed.

"I thought you were a professional," I said.

"Shut up."
 

She took a step away and considered the shelf. Then she kicked the base. The whole thing swung inward.