ping-ponged back and forth between otherwise and my wretched corpse, or eaten by whatever evil thing had been spelled into the bone dice. I didn't want to think that there was no final resting place, no comfortable end to existence. Yes, I was aware of my hypocrisy, but knowledge and fear had moved me from Jeckyll to Hyde.
Caroline tried to sit shotgun, and I had to urge her out of sight. I could only imagine how the police would react to seeing a woman with half a face. I was playing with corpses. I had no desire to show off that skill set. She settled for the floor right behind my seat, her stream of satisfied mumbles doing their best to reach through my deadened heart and make me feel guilty for both keeping her around, and for planning to bury her again.
I coughed long and hard enough to leave myself gasping. Touching Gucci had been a risky proposition all the way around, and now I would need another hit of meds much sooner than I had noted in my calendar. It was going to cost me half the haul from Grey's payment.
I rolled the van out of the alley at the same time I leaned over and opened the glove box, pulling out a thin sliver of clear substrate with a small bit of aluminum at the bottom. I slid my finger up along the surface, and it turned into an opaque screen.
"Call Danelle."
The phone began to ring, and I placed it on the dash and hit the speaker button. A moment later, she answered.
"How'd it go?"
"No pleasantries? No, 'how are you feeling', or 'hey, it's good to hear from you'?"
"Cut the shit. Did you finish the job?"
Danelle was my agent, my business partner. She handled the negotiations. She was also my alter ego, the person who the Houses thought they were hiring when they called in about getting an assassin or a thief.
She had been one, once upon a time. She had taught me everything I knew about this life, introducing me to this career back when I was nothing but a lost soul trying to escape the pain of what I had been forced to do, and making every effort to forget that I was dying.
Then a pyro had toasted her legs and left her in a wheelchair.
"Call it in," I said. "Two dead ogres, one dead fixer."
"The dice?"
I sighed. She had a strange fascination with the dice that she refused to let go of. "Happy. I can't say the same for myself. I had to touch the fixer."
A pause at the other end. "You need more meds?"
"Yes."
"Christ! By the time I cover everything else we'll be lucky to eat this week."
I let out a weak, fake laugh. "If it's any consolation, I don't eat that much. Especially after the meds."
She didn't laugh with me. "Give me an hour, and then go meet Dalton at the shop."
An hour was good. I had another stop I needed to make in the meantime. "I do have a bit of good news for you. I'll give it to you when I get home."
"Can I eat it?"
I hung up.
It took me about ten minutes to make the drive over to Graceland, and another five to get back to the plot where I had dug Caroline up. I'd been real careful with how I'd moved the earth, in preparation for this very event. This time I had a helper with a second shovel, and we reached the coffin within a quarter of an hour.
"Thanks for everything."
She was in the pit, standing in the base of the open casket.
"Mmmmmffffff."
It sounded like a goodbye.
"Just close the lid behind you, and I'll let you go. I won't be calling on you again."
She paused a moment, and her hand lifted up in a curt wave.
I returned the gesture. "I hope wherever you're going, it's a good place for you to be."
Caroline laid down in the box, and then reached up and pulled the lid down. As soon as it was closed I let go of the tie that was controlling her, feeling the specter of her soul float free of my grip. Internally, it was like I had been holding air in my esophagus for too long and had just belched it out.
I succumbed to a bit of coughing then, putting the back of my hand to my mouth and taking a moment to stare at the blood
Caroline tried to sit shotgun, and I had to urge her out of sight. I could only imagine how the police would react to seeing a woman with half a face. I was playing with corpses. I had no desire to show off that skill set. She settled for the floor right behind my seat, her stream of satisfied mumbles doing their best to reach through my deadened heart and make me feel guilty for both keeping her around, and for planning to bury her again.
I coughed long and hard enough to leave myself gasping. Touching Gucci had been a risky proposition all the way around, and now I would need another hit of meds much sooner than I had noted in my calendar. It was going to cost me half the haul from Grey's payment.
I rolled the van out of the alley at the same time I leaned over and opened the glove box, pulling out a thin sliver of clear substrate with a small bit of aluminum at the bottom. I slid my finger up along the surface, and it turned into an opaque screen.
"Call Danelle."
The phone began to ring, and I placed it on the dash and hit the speaker button. A moment later, she answered.
"How'd it go?"
"No pleasantries? No, 'how are you feeling', or 'hey, it's good to hear from you'?"
"Cut the shit. Did you finish the job?"
Danelle was my agent, my business partner. She handled the negotiations. She was also my alter ego, the person who the Houses thought they were hiring when they called in about getting an assassin or a thief.
She had been one, once upon a time. She had taught me everything I knew about this life, introducing me to this career back when I was nothing but a lost soul trying to escape the pain of what I had been forced to do, and making every effort to forget that I was dying.
Then a pyro had toasted her legs and left her in a wheelchair.
"Call it in," I said. "Two dead ogres, one dead fixer."
"The dice?"
I sighed. She had a strange fascination with the dice that she refused to let go of. "Happy. I can't say the same for myself. I had to touch the fixer."
A pause at the other end. "You need more meds?"
"Yes."
"Christ! By the time I cover everything else we'll be lucky to eat this week."
I let out a weak, fake laugh. "If it's any consolation, I don't eat that much. Especially after the meds."
She didn't laugh with me. "Give me an hour, and then go meet Dalton at the shop."
An hour was good. I had another stop I needed to make in the meantime. "I do have a bit of good news for you. I'll give it to you when I get home."
"Can I eat it?"
I hung up.
It took me about ten minutes to make the drive over to Graceland, and another five to get back to the plot where I had dug Caroline up. I'd been real careful with how I'd moved the earth, in preparation for this very event. This time I had a helper with a second shovel, and we reached the coffin within a quarter of an hour.
"Thanks for everything."
She was in the pit, standing in the base of the open casket.
"Mmmmmffffff."
It sounded like a goodbye.
"Just close the lid behind you, and I'll let you go. I won't be calling on you again."
She paused a moment, and her hand lifted up in a curt wave.
I returned the gesture. "I hope wherever you're going, it's a good place for you to be."
Caroline laid down in the box, and then reached up and pulled the lid down. As soon as it was closed I let go of the tie that was controlling her, feeling the specter of her soul float free of my grip. Internally, it was like I had been holding air in my esophagus for too long and had just belched it out.
I succumbed to a bit of coughing then, putting the back of my hand to my mouth and taking a moment to stare at the blood
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