Urban Enemies (Cainsville 4.5)

"Are you? Together?"

"No." Fontaine looked at one of his hands, flexing the pallid fingers. "In this world, I'm a parasite nestled inside a walking corpse. Bit of a deal-breaker when it comes to romance. She can barely stand to touch me."

"So hijack a living human. You can, can't you?"

He nodded, turning the wheel. "She wouldn't take to that any better. Not a big fan of innocent humans being body-jacked by our kind. Not fond of our kind in general."

"But she's an informant for hell."

"For me," Fontaine said, braking a little aggressively. "She's an informant for me. And here's our stop. Next up is a two-for-one deal. No slipups. If either one of them gets away, we don't get paid."

"There'll be other contracts."

"If I don't get that money," Fontaine said, "Ada will be dead by tomorrow night. No slipups."

1:24 a.m.

Pans crashed to the floor as Fontaine slammed back against an industrial oven. The handle of a butcher knife jutted from his left shoulder. Luca Russo came at him with teeth bared and a second knife in his fist, slashing fast and wild. Luca's twin sister was on the ceiling. She clung to the alabaster tiles with nails turned to iron claws, skittering like a roach.

Luca's knife carved into Fontaine's belly, digging deep, leaving a streak of searing pain in its wake. The knife flashed again, a cherry-stained killing arc. The bite of the blade shredded the sleeve of his overcoat and ripped him open from wrist to elbow. Fontaine shoved him back, hard, sweeping Luca's leg out from under him and knocking him to the floor.

He'd bought himself two seconds, maybe three. Fontaine spun, breathless, raising his good arm. His sleeve slid back to reveal the weapon beneath, a miniature crossbow strapped to his forearm with a trigger cord looped around his middle finger. He flexed his wrist, and a whirling loop of enchanted steel chain lashed out like a bola. The chain hit Luca's sister dead center, wrapping itself around her waist like a belt, and exploded in electric, arcane fire. She fell from the ceiling, her smoking, twitching body thumping to the floor with wide, dead eyes.

"Rache!" Fontaine shouted. "Harvest her! Sixty-six seconds!"

She bolted across the kitchen, clutching the sandalwood box. Luca was already getting up on his feet, going for the knife. Fontaine met him halfway, grabbing his wrist and twisting it, driving the blade into Luca's heart. They froze there, nose to nose and staring into each other's eyes.

"Why?" Luca croaked.

"It's my job," Fontaine told him.

Luca stopped breathing. Fontaine lowered him to the blood-streaked floor, gently now, and rolled him onto his belly.

2:08 a.m.

"You look like shit," Rache said.

The windshield wipers kept up their slow, metronome thump. Cold air and mist gusted in from the broken driver's-side window, dragging icy fingers across the rents in Fontaine's overcoat, the tears in his flesh.

"This body's a loaner anyway." He threw the car into park and dug in his pocket for his phone.

"Can you still fight?"

Fair question. He rolled one shoulder, wincing when his arm stopped halfway, broken bones shifting under the skin. He'd had to tear off one of his shirtsleeves, binding it tight around his gaping belly, and one of his kneecaps threatened to turn traitor. He stank of formaldehyde and bad decisions.

"I need to make a few calls," he said, "find out where our lucky number four is hiding. Wait here a second."

"I'm supposed to be learning from you. Shouldn't I be in on that?"

He shoved open the car door and swung one leg out, wincing at a fresh burst of pain.

He came back twenty minutes later and slumped heavily into the driver's seat. Moments passed. He drummed the steering wheel with borrowed fingers. The middle one seemed to have some nerve damage from the fight. It tapped out of sync with the others and listed to the side. Rain spat onto fractured concrete outside.

"What are we doing?" Rache asked.

"Waiting. Ada's getting a line on our last target, and Irving's on his way."

Rache twisted in her seat. "Shouldn't we be, like, doing something? Why don't we try to find the Madrigal? Don't you want the bonus money?"