Chapter 4

The car hit the ground with a thud.

“Crap. Traffic.”

It was bumper-to-bumper in the Other Side.

The Other Side is pretty much every old book you’ve ever read come to life, settled in nice and cozy to the conveniences of modern living. If you can imagine it, it probably exists over here. The neighborhood we landed in had a particularly Victorian flair - cobblestone streets and Dickens-esque shops, bustle wearing bonneted ladies walking alongside the monsters of your nightmares.

We crept along to the backside of the police station. A blue woman, and not in the emotional kind of way, an actual blue woman, came out and I popped my trunk. She was flanked by two zombie porters.

“Nice one, Maggie. Next time, try not to kill ‘em, okay?”

“Lacy, he’s a vampire. He was already dead. I just finished the job.”

She shook her head at me and then noticed Killian in my passenger seat. “Well, well, well…,” she purred, “Who’s the six-pack-of-awesome-going-on-under-the-silken-tunic sitting there in your car?”

I think I sprained my eyeballs rolling them so hard, “He’s a fucking elf. And he wants me to do a job for him.”

Lacy clucked her tongue, “You could do worse.”

“No,” I said, slamming the trunk closed after the zombies lifted the vampire skip out. “No, I don’t think I could.”

“Listen, honey…” Lacy interrupted herself to shout at the zombie porter, “Cut it out! He’s a vampire! He doesn’t have a brain!”

The porter removed his mouth from the vampire’s temple and continued to carry the carcass into the station.

Lacy shook her head, “The work ethic these days…”

I gave her a sympathetic shrug, hoping if I appeared to look like I cared, she’d finish the paperwork faster.

She ripped off the receipt, “Here you go.”

I smiled and tucked it into my jacket pocket.

“Check will be in the mail.”

“Thanks,” I said, climbing back into my car.

Lacy leaned inside my window, “Listen, honey, you be careful, you hear? Rumor has it you’ve pissed off a bunch of people.”

“Lacy, I know what I’m doing,” I said. “Just keep the work rolling in. I can handle it.”

I gave her a little finger wave as I backed out.

“You cannot handle it,” said Killian.

“Yes, I can,” I said, my knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.