5

Vic

The oil in his car hadn’t been a priority, not with getting shot and saving the world, but Jesse would give Vic no end of grief if he didn’t change it before a road trip.

Vic drove to Jesse’s shop. It was near their mom’s house, and it would give him the chance to get his hands dirty and work off a little of the knot gathering between his shoulders. Walking inside, he cracked his neck.

“Jesse?” he called.

The shop was open but abandoned, with several cars on the lifts or parked in the secure spaces. It wasn’t like Jesse to leave the place unattended.

A muttered curse led him to a classic bottle-green convertible and a pair of legs in greasy coveralls sticking out from under it.

“Hey,” Vic called. “Jesse around?”

The mechanic wheeled out from under the car. A familiar, angular face grinned up at Vic.

“He’s on the Other Side,” she said, waving a wrench.

“Argent,” Vic said.

He looked behind him. The sky had gone purple. Something, a pterodactyl maybe, flew by. Vic squeezed his eyes shut for a breath. He hadn’t even felt the shift, the slip from the real to the surreal, to the Other Side.

“You could have just called,” he said, looking back to the elven queen in coveralls.

“This is easier,” she said, standing.

“Easier, or just more dramatic?” Vic asked.

“More fun,” she admitted.

Vic had to smile. He liked the elf, far more than he liked her brother, but he still knew not to trust her.

The Queen of Swords was powerful in ways Vic didn’t understand and he knew better than to prod with too many questions. Adam liked her and respected her, but that came with a healthy dose of caution—and Adam was one of the bravest people Vic knew.

“You’re here about Adam?” she asked, wiping her hands on an oil-soaked rag.

Vic narrowed his eyes at her, his instincts telling him to be wary.

“Basically. What do you know?”

“I know that his great-aunt died,” she said, voice sad. “And I know that it must hurt him a great deal.”

“I’m going to the funeral,” Vic said. “I just came by to change my oil.”

“It’s always nice to meet another grease monkey,” Argent said.

Vic raised a hand and shook it in a so-so gesture. “Jesse taught me the basics, but I’m guessing you didn’t bring me across to talk about cars.”

Argent’s smile deepened as she balled up the rag and tossed it into a bucket.

“I’m coming with you,” she announced. “Road trip.”

Vic raised his eyebrows. “To Oklahoma?”

“Yes,” she said. “We can take one of my cars. You like the Challenger.”

Twelve hours in a car with an immortal who he knew from experience had a lead foot. That could be fun, more fun than riding with Tilla Mae and Robert or driving alone.

“Why don’t you just . . .” Vic wiggled his fingers.

Argent blinked at him.

“You know? Magic yourself there.”

“There are territories and rules,” Argent said. “And I would like to see it from your perspective, not as the Queen of Swords.”

Argent’s face had gone very still.

She wasn’t telling him everything, but Vic also knew he’d never get it out of her. He only had a little of Adam’s experience with the immortals, but he knew they were secretive. A road trip with the queen might give him the chance to learn more.

“All right,” Vic said. “Driver gets to pick the music.”

“Who said I’d ever let you drive?” she asked.

Vic gave her a disapproving look. Argent tended to drive on the Other Side, where speed limits didn’t apply. He’d been hoping to get a chance to see what the Challenger could really do.

“When do you want to leave?” he asked.

“I’ll pick you up outside your apartment in a few hours,” she said, waving him back toward the garage door.

Vic didn’t like that she knew where he lived, but couldn’t say he was surprised that they’d keep tabs on him. They had some interest in Adam. Maybe it was just because he was Silver’s ex, but Vic’s guts, what he thought of as his cop instincts, said it was something more.

He stepped through the garage door and found himself back in the real world, or at least the one he was used to. The change was instant. No more purple sky. No more pterodactyls. Vic didn’t have that sense of whiplash he’d gotten the first few times it had happened. Maybe he was getting used to it, just like he was getting used to the idea of other worlds in general.

Vic made the necessary calls, citing a death in the family. His sergeant didn’t hesitate to approve the PTO. Everything at work was still a little off since Vic had come back.

A weight lifted to know that he was getting to miss work and it bugged Vic that he felt that way. He’d loved graduating from the academy, had been so proud to think he’d be able to make a difference, but lately he didn’t feel as welcome there, as trusted. Maybe it had something to do with the shooting, that Vic had survived and Carl hadn’t.

Vic’s partner had tried to kill Adam, but Vic had taken the bullet before Carl had shot himself. The surveillance footage made it clear what had happened, but the whiff of something strange remained. Carl had been a good man, a good cop, and there wasn’t a way to explain his sudden change in character. It wasn’t like Vic could tell everyone that Carl had been possessed by an ancient spirit trying to claw its way back to life.

Then there were the changes to Vic himself. It wouldn’t do him any favors if word got out that he was dating the guy Carl had tried to kill or that he thought he was a Grim Reaper. He knew how that would sound to most people, even if he had healed far too quickly for something supernatural not to be involved.

A dog’s bark brought Vic back to where he was.

“Chaos!” Jesse called.

He emerged from the garage office, chasing after his pit bull.

Vic knelt to pet her.

“There you are!” Jesse called. It was weird to see Jesse in a button-up shirt and khakis. He looked like a banker, respectable even. “Did you find Adam?”

“Yeah,” Vic said, making sure to get the point between Chaos’s eyes. That was her favorite spot.

Her stubby tail wagged happily.

“Easy, drool monster,” Vic said. He looked up as Jesse walked over. “His great-aunt died.”

“Sue?” Jesse asked, face falling. “Damn.”

Vic blinked. “You know about her?”

“She took Wonder Bread in when he sprung himself from the loony bin.”

Vic scowled at Jesse’s phrasing.

“How do you know so much?” Vic asked.

Jesse shrugged, but he wasn’t fooling his brother. Jesse loved cars, his dog, and gossip.

“No wonder he bailed on work,” Jesse added.

“He went back to Oklahoma,” Vic said.

“And he didn’t even tell you?” Jesse whistled. “That’s cold.”

“Yeah,” Vic said. It hurt that Adam hadn’t told him. Vic had thought they were moving toward something, being something real together.

“Anyway,” he said, shrugging, “I’m going to the funeral.”

“Did he invite you?” Jesse asked, folding his arms over his broad chest.

“Nah,” Vic said. “His brother did.”

“You sure you want to go chasing after him?” Jesse asked. “Missing more work and everything?”

“He needs me,” Vic said, though his stomach tensed at the mention of work. “Even if he doesn’t know he needs me.”

“Hmm,” Jesse muttered. He looked thoughtful, maybe hopeful.

“What?” Vic demanded.

“Nothing,” Jesse said. “Just . . . I’m rooting for you guys.”

“I’ll let you know when I see him,” Vic said.

Vic headed home, packed his black suit, still clean and pressed from his father’s funeral, and waited. His apartment wasn’t much. A Spartan little studio in Capitol Hill, but it had a decent enough kitchen, and he did love to cook.

A car horn sounded. Vic looked out the window to see a light-silver sports car pull up to the loading zone of his building.

Argent leaned out from the driver’s side window. She wore sunglasses and a bright scarf, looking more than ever like a classic movie star.

Vic grabbed his bag and ran downstairs, careful to lock his apartment.

“I thought you’d bring the Dodge,” he asked. “What is this, a Mazda?”

“An RX-8,” Argent said, leaning out the window. The sunglasses probably cost more than a month of Vic’s rent. “But I didn’t like the engine so I swapped it out.”

It did not look roomy, but Vic could appreciate the utility of speed over substance. It wasn’t like he’d packed heavy.

“Not very classic,” he teased.

“I’d like to avoid your brothers in blue,” she said. “As well as any other attention.”

“So this is you being subtle?” Vic asked, waving a finger at the sports car.

“I still have my standards, Vicente,” she said, popping the trunk.

“It’s Vic, Your Highness,” he said, moving to lay his bag in the space left beside Argent’s suitcase.

It was odd that she’d pack. The purple bag could contain anything—actual clothing, a dozen clowns, or a great white shark. Magic was weird and wonderful, and Vic had so much to learn.

Grinning, he climbed into the passenger side and buckled up, checking twice that the belt was secure. He’d ridden with Argent before. And while he might be a newly minted Grim Reaper, he felt pretty certain he could still die.

Argent tore away from the curb. The acceleration pushed Vic against his seat.

“You’re doing eighty in a thirty,” he said, gripping the handle by the window so hard he thought he might wrench it off.

“Oh yes,” she muttered. “Sometimes I forget.”

The sky shifted from blue to purple streaked with bright-green clouds.

“Shortcut,” she said, smiling.

“I thought you said we had to take the mortal roads.”

“Once we’re out of my domain,” Argent countered. She gunned the engine, racing them through a version of Denver that didn’t exist in Vic’s world.

Downtown was hidden in a cloud, a slowly unfurling cyclone of dust, bricks, and debris.

All manner of things flew by. Birds, giant bats, and more dinosaurs. Mushrooms larger than trees sprouted in clumps. They glowed faintly blue. The highway was much the same as on the mortal side, though the lines dividing the lanes often sprouted legs and scrambled out of the Mazda’s path like millipedes.

“Can all of you do that?” Vic asked. “Just leap over?”

“It isn’t a gift everyone has,” Argent explained, “but it can be developed depending on aptitude.”

“So it’s a talent,” Vic said.

“And a skill. Some are naturals from birth. Others develop it.”

Vic nodded. It made sense. When he’d applied to the police academy, he wasn’t any good with a gun. His mom did not like them, and his dad had never taught him to shoot. Vic had worked very hard to get good enough to score high marks. It had taken him a few tries to load a clip without cutting himself on its sharp edges.

At this rate they’d be in Oklahoma in just a few hours, which was good. Vic hadn’t planned for a long trip. His sergeant would eventually need him, desk duty or not. But mostly, Vic needed to see Adam, to see if he was all right.

Dammit, Adam, you have to do everything the hard way, Vic thought.

Could Adam feel his approach, his worry? He should. Vic felt it was strong enough to cross the miles.

“How long can we take this shortcut?” Vic asked.

“You’ll know when the towers change,” Argent said. “They mark the boundaries.”

She nodded to the distance where three watchtowers marked the cardinal points. The fourth had been downtown, and its destruction had caused the storm behind them.

“Are you guys going to fix that?” Vic asked, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the tornado of dust and bricks.

“Meetings are being held with the Council of Races. Accords will be reached and a new Guardian race will be chosen for the East.”

“And they don’t need their queen for that?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Argent said. Her hand remained light on the steering wheel but Vic thought he detected a little crinkling about her mouth. He was prying. “But no, my brother is handling the details. He’s good at that sort of thing and that is how our father prefers it.”

Vic could learn to like Silver, Argent’s brother, from what little he knew of the elf. The two of them had fought together against Mercy, but Adam’s history with the Knight of Swords made something in Vic’s belly twist, and he didn’t like that.

It wasn’t like Vic to get jealous of exes. He’d never been jealous of any ex before. It was just one more way in which Adam was different, how Vic felt different when it came to Adam.

He wanted to reach Oklahoma, to wrap Adam in his arms, and get the answers he needed so badly.