Once Lost Lords (Royal Scales, Book 1) (7 page)

“I meant for drinks!”

“Buttery nipples?” The elf was still glaring, like he was
comparing my features to everyone who had ever crossed his path,
trying to figure out who my family was. Or memorizing my face for use
against future grandchildren. Asshole.

“Again, drinks!” I shouted.

“Oh, you’re a drunk, doesn’t seem to matter much.”
To emphasize the point she got me out a shot glass and poured
something bronze in color. Damned if I had a clue what it was.

“See, weaknesses.” I laid the liquid back slowly while
trying not to frown. Julianne poured me something from the cheap end
of the bar in retaliation.

The bartender knew enough not to engage the elf needlessly. I leaned
against the bar acting distraught over the departure of my free
drink. After a minute, Umbrella Beer gave up and turned away, taking
both glasses with him. Once the door closed Julianne felt free to
start up the ass chewing.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” I shook my head. “Didn’t
know he was a serious one.”

“They’re all serious when you know too much. I’d
suggest you avoid him in the future.” Julianne informed me.

“Someone important?” I asked.

“They’re all important, at least in their own heads,”
Julianne said. I rolled around the empty little glass on the counter
enjoying the sound. It lasted ten seconds before she yanked it out of
my hands.

“Any other jobs?” I tried my damnedest to lay out a
charming smile. Too bad Julianne was a cynic, a playful cynic, but
charm was often frustratingly useless. My busted nose made it hard to
look suave.

“You screwed up the last two, why would I trust you with
another one?” She asked.

“One was a trap, and the other taken by suits.”

“Kahina is not a trap, she’s a friend whose heart you
ripped out when you left.” Now Julianne was nearly mad. Her
aggression was spent on straightening up her side of the counter.
“Forgive the girl for hoping you’d be sensible when you
got back. I told her not to expect much.”

Correcting Julianne wasn’t worth it. The night I left had
started out differently. Hell. We had practically been getting
engaged by vampire standards. The next step in their courtships
involved a connection between human and vampire, blood bonded. A draw
or sort of sharing, and by all rumors probably the greatest sex
anyone could ever have. Not that it wasn’t good to begin with.
It had been the first time I had let anyone, ever, near my blood and
she flipped. That entire event was a little hazy beyond snapshots
with coupled sensations.

“Anything, to keep me busy?”

“Nothin’ but rounds.” Rounds was code for reminding
people of debts owed. Not as engaging as actual collections but less
dangerous.

“Got a list of stops?” I asked.

“Fine.” She glared and yanked at my empty glass. “I’d
take a moment before heading out. Your new admirer is probably
waiting outside to follow you home.”

“That junkie?” The elf was probably huddled in a corner
sipping in desperation. “It’s only rounds.”

“Remember how we do it? No violence, Jeff, these people
actually come in and pay.” She handed over a slip of paper that
had names and addresses scribbled on it.

“Sure. No touching.”

“No, Jeff, no violence.” She glared. Her standing form
was eye level with me sitting on the bar stool.

“Sure. Reminders.” I emphasized the word like it was a
code for something else.

“Jay,” She was serious now. “I swear to god if you
break anything I’m adding their debts to your rent.”

Now I had to behave. “Juli…”

“Don’t even start. Now shush.” She said. I tried to
keep the teeth flashing to a minimum and let her take a few breaths
in order to calm down.

I shifted subjects. “Thanks for the two hamburgers last night.”

She looked puzzled. “Those were for the last two days, the deal
was a week’s worth of meals, remember?” My jaw stopped
working and I stared at her. I thought about it for a moment and
started again.

“Hell of a night.” I muttered.

“What?” She responded.

“Nothing. I had a longer nap than I thought.”

Julianne raised an eyebrow at me and started to say something. A set
of footsteps came out from the hallway and her accountant popped his
head out. It was easier to see where his hair had been chopped at,
resulting in an inconsistent look. Either he had children who
attacked him while he was sleeping or was horrendous at doing his own
haircuts.

“Julianne, we’ve got to finish this before tomorrow.”
The tall balding man said.

She looked back, then forward at me and glared, an impressive feat
for her small frame.

“You were passed out for two days?”

My blank stare must have been all the confirmation she needed. Hell,
being asleep for two days surprised me too. Down the hall, her
accountant’s voice echoed cutting our conversation thankfully
short.

“We’ll get back to this later.”

My choices were to nod or answer awkward questions. Nodding was
easier. Two hamburgers meant two dinners had passed. I had woken up
on the third day after going to bed that night. Loving sleep was one
thing, sleeping for over forty-eight hours was another. I guess
that’s why my ribs felt a lot better than they should have.
Even my back was doing better. With a wave, I headed to the door.

“Jeff!” She yelled at me.

“No unwanted physical interactions! I got it!” Then left
to the sound of the doorbell jingling from above. Hopefully, if
someone asked for a beating, I could use that phrasing to get out of
trouble. It worked before. Julianne liked me better than most of her
clients anyway.

Walking took time. A majority of people who gambled at Julianne’s
were local, and if they were willing to pay it would be pretty
straight forward. Show up, remind them of a debt, look imposing,
leave.

It’s even easier than it sounds.

For humans, things are basic, show up, be in their bubble, violate
personal space and be bigger. It’s not about what gets said,
but what’s being done while talking. Keeping a hand in the
pocket is all a worried person needs to spark their imagination. All
that while sounding overly friendly.

For elves, it’s a bit harder. I have to look bored of their
existence. I’m only a thug, a messenger, and expendable.
Beneath threatening, posturing, or memorizing. Then when they’ve
dismissed me, I take the chance to get behind them. Nothing drives
them crazier than a human, looming over their back. It's not even a
bubble issue, but an inborn fear of being stabbed. Generations of in
clan fighting from the old world had ingrained a healthy fear. Elves
with debts were loners anyway. No clan support made it easy.

Vampires are probably the most straightforward to deal with.
Intimidation is typically useless. I would show up, tell them they
have a bill, walk off once they make eye contact afterward. They’ll
either pay or not. That was if I even met the actual vampire. Most
were lesser-ranked cadre members on the twelve step program to leave
humanity behind. Every full vamp had at least three partials.

The wolves were the most fun when cornered outside of their pack. I
often only got one crack at a wolf for serious collections. Anything
more and they would have their like-minded pack looming behind them.
Since my job was to intimidate and my methods were hands on, guns
were a bad idea. Nothing got wolves screaming hate crime like silver
buckshot found in a wall.

My last stop was at a suburban home, furthest one out from the main
part of town I floated around in. Cookie cutter houses lined both
sides of the street. Each lawn manicured, probably by the same
overpriced person. Roughly eighty percent of these houses belonged to
normal people. Humans. The rest of the population was more
controlled, or in some cases, segregated by personal design.

Elves were a prime example. Most lived with their clan. A family unit
that went out to fourth cousins and beyond, all grouped together. I
had seen them sometimes, owning entire blocks of the richer sections,
refusing entry to normal people. They often had high walls made of
all natural materials. Clay bricks, spirals of ivy, tree branches
growing out in canopies over the sidewalk.

This house, according to the ‘W’ by the name and address
Julianne had given me, belonged to a wolf. Full on capable of
shifting between human and wolf and a rarer form in between. Their
third form normally meant bad things were about to happen. Usually to
me.

From the outside it would be impossible to guess they weren’t
human. The yard was well kept. Two cars in the driveway. One was a
van. Lights showed a peaceful kitchen and living room, the television
tuned into a drama.

No violence was a good approach. My cross would be worthless as a
symbol. The pure silver aspect would work. Their severe allergy
affected everything down to a wolves’ choice in utensils. My
silver laced knuckles would work. I wove a hand through the finger
slots in preparation. Just in case.

I gave the door a solid knock. The sun was rapidly setting and I
wanted to be on my way home before things were too dark.

There was the usual pause as someone tried to peep on who was
outside. It was the same paranoid glance everyone did in this sort of
neighborhood. Then the door opened completely revealing female barely
into her twenties.

“Yeah?” Her eyes glazed over, less than five seconds into
our conversation and she was already checked out. Her irises were sky
blue, nearly as vacant as an elf’s might be, the ears screamed
human.

“Looking for Francis.” I didn’t risk aiming at a
nickname. Julianne hadn’t provided one and guessing would be a
bad choice.

“Mom!”

Another female shuffled up looking like a middle-aged version of the
first one. Her clothes were more professional than her dingbat
daughter’s. She also had a few pieces of jewelry, like an
ornate wedding ring that I could see sparkling from halfway down the
hall. It took a bit to restrain the drool.

“Are you Francis Sauter?” I asked.

She raised both eyebrows for a moment in and tilted her head. Then
shooed her daughter off and stood in the doorway.

“I am, who’s asking?” The woman said.

“My name is not important, I’m here about a business deal
with Ann’s B&G.” My prepared speech citing Julianne’s
business name. On some papers it was a bar and grill, on others it
was betting and gambling.

“What about it?” She inquired. This wasn’t the
first time a spouse tried to intercept me. Sadly, the nature of my
job didn’t come with pictures of the debtors. Maybe we should
start requesting snapshots.

“I may have the wrong home.”

“No I’ll bet,” Her emphasis was disturbing “this
is the right place.”

Now the mother was angry though her posture said it wasn’t me,
exactly. Part of me was giddy with anticipation at being the bearer
of bad news. The other part worried that I had mishandled and
Julianne might find out.

“If it is, then I’ve said all I need. Goodbye.” I
opted for leaving, rather than deal with Julianne getting mad at me.

The door closed and a shout issued inside the house. Volume of that
level and tone could only be achieved by an upset wife. Hopefully,
Julianne wouldn’t count that as violence. I started off their
pathway towards the road when screaming turned to snarls and yips.
Two canines were fighting.

Julianne should have put two W’s down on this address.

A new voice started screaming. Higher in pitch, Francis’
daughter had proceeded to announce her opinion. Their garage was
buckling under the weight of something being slammed into it
repeatedly. Garage doors didn’t last long against that kind of
force.

My favorite way to deal with wolves was to have them take care of
each other. Packs were easy to rile up since each one is basically a
walking powder keg of anger. One who was into gambling would probably
be keeping it hidden.

Schools taught what they could. One extreme example was a
thirty-minute video explaining how humans shouldn’t have sex
with wolves in a nonstandard form. I had gone into hysterics when it
occurred to me that someone needed the explanation. The lesson that
applied to my current situation was different. Wolves chased running
objects. Some girls rather liked that.

The flimsy garage door crumpled on one side. A panicked male wolf
barreled out of the slender opening and took off. A second smaller
form wiggled through, nipping the other’s heels. Both had the
same dusty brown palette with slightly different markings. I would
lay money on the first wolf being the real Francis Sauter. In most
packs the males dominate. They’re more aggressive, tuned into
the pecking order and obeyed their chain of command with a zealous
fervor.

Then, there were females.

The formerly happy couple had covered ground fast. The soon to be
ex-Sauter was making her feelings known. People stopped taking out
the garbage, swerved cars and honked or shouted as they passed. Two
wolves with incredible endurance might chase each other for an hour
before winding down. Their journey would end in violence or the kind
of makeup sex that broke trees. Or both. Shifting got wolves so wired
they didn’t think clearly.

Shiny objects had been left in their wake. The ring I had been eyeing
earlier was discarded somewhere during their shift. Wedding rings
were too much trouble. A smaller one was easier to pocket, though. I
whistled to myself, pleased at how tonight had gone.

Hours later, a short stewing bartender cornered me. Impressive,
considering I was twice her size.

"You were out for how long?" Julianne started the
conversation where we left off.

"Only a day or two."

"Dammit, you hibernate like a bear, Jeff.” We were talking
at the back door to her bar. Julianne was in the process of checking
for things to be cleaned. Her eyes scanned over piles of cigarette
butts, trash bags and stains on the wall. “You were napping for
two days down there?"