Once Lost Lords (Royal Scales, Book 1) (4 page)

Minimal clarity and a microwave breakfast wrap made it hard to take
anything serious. The ineffective painkillers and post workout pump
almost counteracted things. I gave him an idle once over while
munching at my food. This visitor had deep red hair, a black suit,
tanned skin. The corona illuminating him made it hard to pick out
more specific features.

“Jeff Fields, I believe?” The voice sounded gruff but
familiar.

“How long you been out here?” I asked.

“Long enough to wonder if you died down there, man.”
There was a hint of humor and most of the rough tone vanished,
leaving behind a familiar voice.

I took another of bite of my food.

“Crummy?” It wasn’t polite to talk with your mouth
full, but if it was Crummy, he deserved it.

The figure stepped out of the sun with a wide smirk. Some things had
changed in four years. His head full of hair had been trimmed down so
far that it was nearly nonexistent. Freckles that should have been
present were buried under a deep tan. The man surfed like crazy
during his downtime. I had never gone once in our decades of
friendship.

Crummy put a hand out to shake.

Lazily, I juggled food from one hand to the other before reaching out
in return. Daniel Crumfield didn’t settle for the shake,
pulling in instead for a shoulder bump.

“Welcome back. Heard you were back in town under another stupid
name.” His hand gave a wave towards my front door. “I see
you didn’t bother to move.”

“Been hiding.” I said.

“I heard that too. Someone called in a disturbance and said a
large man with a busted nose had accosted an elf over gambling
debts.” Daniel’s grin was barely visible against the
violent morning light.

“Someone called huh?” I hadn’t even noticed the
blond was an elf. He had a lot of matted hair covering his discerning
features.

“Yeah, man, they sent me down here to bring you in for
disturbing the peace.”

I took a final bite and let out a muffled “Bullshit.” He
laughed.

“Don’t shoot the messenger!” Daniel said.

“How about a friend?”

“Don’t shoot them either. Besides, you know I was kidding
man.” Both his hands went up in an insincere surrender.

“That elf would never call,” I said.

“Those types never do. And you don’t exist on paper, man,
remember?” His accent killed me every time. Surfer cadences
rang through his speech. No amount of suit could bury the dude
lurking below. “Little Julie dropped a line when you got back.
I tried to pop in last night but you’d already taken off, so I
asked where you were.”

That made sense, when he talked to Julianne she must have informed
him last night’s apartment dweller was elven. Well at least
that cleared up which one he was from the picture. This series of
events bothered me. First I see my ex, sort of, and managed to
survive the night. Now one of my few friends shows up.

“No files in four years?”

“Not a peep, man, thankfully. I’ve been keeping tabs on
bulletins that might match you over the years. Nothing, nowhere.
You’ve been a ghost.” The admission made me feel
accomplished. I had intentionally 'disappeared' for the last few
years.

“Anyway, what’re you up to today?” Daniel asked.

I looked up at the sky then said, “Before sunset? Nothing
really”

“Sunset?” He put a few things together. “Still
avoiding Kahina?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, man, I’d move out of the Western Sector all
together, if I had a choice and pissed that woman off.” Daniel
was a Sector agent. He didn’t get to leave without a damned
good reason.

“Not moving. All my stuff is here.” I shrugged.

“Right, that collection you’ve been building since we
were kids.” There was a hint of resigned amusement to his
words.

“I’ve got more to sort out still.” During those
wandering years, the hoard had only grown in size.

“I’ll believe it if I see it.”

“Maybe.” Like hell would I let him downstairs. Friendship
didn’t go that far.

“Listen, man, I’ve got some time and cold cases. I wanted
to ask over beers, but that idea’s busted. You able to help?”

This exchange wasn’t new. Favor for favor. When we were
younger, a lot younger, he handed me one of the files that had
stumped him. I managed to provide tips that went places. Occasionally
he grabbed another set to consult me on. Daniel had gotten promotions
and commendations because of our deal.

“Knew this wasn’t a social call.” I pretended to be
grumpy.

“I know, man, I’d drop by for just drinks, but crime
never sleeps. My next few assignments are shaping up to be huge. If I
can find a place to start.” Daniel shook his head.

“Anyway, thought maybe you’d help me find some of these
people as an in with this assignment.” He didn’t need to
explain it. Crummy’s missing files included all sorts; long
lost children, runaways, murderers. Often my involvement was limited
to a direction and letting him know which ones were dead. There were
only a handful of trackers in Western Sector and Daniel worked every
resource he could.

But we were friends.

“Sure, I’ll try.” I didn’t mention money. I
would take cash for finding and collecting debts, or a reward for
recovering items. By applying my talents to debt collecting, I got to
engage in a favorite past time. Punching the deserving in the face.
Being paid for it was a bonus.

Finding people was another issue. Missing someone you cared for was
heartbreaking. It scarred a soul down deep. I knew that pain. My own
parents had left me, abandoned me. Their faces lost to time. There
was nothing within my entire collection to track my own family with.

Daniel guided me and my vanishing breakfast to his car. From the back
came a stack of files and items in evidence bags. “You know the
rules, I can’t actually let you touch any of it.” He
said.

“I know, makes it harder, but I’ll do what I can.”
I shrugged. That was fine, I didn’t want fingerprints on
government tagged and bagged items.

An hour passed while cruising through the five cases he presented.
Two children, one alive and north somewhere. The other provided no
response. The answer, once found, would likely be depressing. One
missing person looked familiar. I wound back to the file Daniel had
and tapped on the picture.

“Who’s this?” I flipped the file around for him to
look at.

“Arnold Regious, son of one massively rich family, missing,
believed kidnapping.” Daniel grabbed the case file then flipped
through the thin stapled pages. “Human, no signs of the other
races being involved so I’m not sure how they routed it to
Sector.” Sector only got involved if it was interracial.

“And?” I bounced the photo up and down.

He was looking at a few different pages across the file and sighed.
“And this dude vanished on the road during the day heading
between family estates. Driver and a guardian both missing too.”
The man said.

“Let me check something,” I said.

“You’re kidding, on this case?” He looked excited.
“Man, that’s perfect.”

“Hold on.” I went back into my apartment, carefully
making sure to close the door behind me. When I returned to Daniel it
was with the picture of two blond boys. “This him?”

“Let’s see.” Daniel took the picture and compared
it to some of the other photos in the file. “Hard to say, but
it looks solid, one’s human, other’s elven. Where’d
you get this?”

“An elf I certainly didn’t accost, sir.” I tried to
put on my best innocent girl act. Too bad my voice wasn’t built
for valley girl tones. At least the poor impression got a snicker.

“Alright, is he still alive?” He smiled.

“Couldn’t tell. Elf is, don’t know about the
human.” I said. Couldn’t tell was code for likely dead.
Daniel had been through this dance more than a few times with me.

“Mind if I steal your meal ticket?”

“Please do, if it’s more than a gambling debt, I want no
part of it. Nothing personal.” Working with Daniel was fine but
the thought of being in his way wasn’t comforting.

“I hear you. Alright, I’ll take this and go. This will
mean a lot if it pans out, thanks.”

“Anytime,” I said. Daniel probably couldn’t hear
me, since he was already settling himself into his car and slamming
the door shut. The Sector agent quickly drove off. Next he would be
bothering Julianne for information and then back to whatever nest the
suits were stationed out of. She didn’t exactly like him nosing
in on her clients, but like most bookies, when it was a bad debt
there was no harm throwing them under the bus. Especially if it kept
someone out of the rest of their business.

I slowly wandered back to the bar. Julianne’s employees ran
about clearing leftovers from the lunch group and prepped for dinner.
Friday nights were crowded. Which meant lots of bets being placed,
hopefully someone big and dumb looking would be able to score a job
as a bouncer tonight.

“Jannneeee.” I hollered down the hallways behind the
counter that lead to a medium sized kitchen and the bookkeeper’s
office.

Wheels ground against the thinly carpeted floor. A man’s head
peeked out of the back office. I nearly forgot he worked here. Tall,
huge balding forehead, and thin wire framed glasses. His remaining
hair was uneven and splattered with shades of gray.

“Oh.” He whispered.

His size said nothing about the personality. He was quiet. Most
people never knew he was back. The man tallied the bills, figured out
taxes and would slip every fourth twenty under the counter for the
less than legal funds. Half his magic was shuffling money around
without arousing suspicion. There was some muttering.

“Hold on, Jeff, I’ll be out in a moment. We gotta fix the
records for our little loose end that your friend took away from me.”
Good, she was okay with the situation. An angry Julianne skipped
straight to screams.

It was hard to keep the world straight when I changed my name so many
times. Not even sure why I did it.

“You need a big dumb man to protect you tonight?” My
words would carry well enough.

Julianne came out of the accounting room and walked down the hall.
She looked mildly annoyed but willing to play my silly game.

“I could put up with for you tonight, but considering you smart
enough to be dumb is a stretch.”

“Bitch.” Which she was. I smiled a bit, careful to keep
my teeth covered.

“So you’ve told me, pay’s gonna be low for a night,
though, still okay?” Julianne never stopped moving. Her hands
straightened everything in range while we talked.

“Fine. Meals this week and the rest towards rent.” I
could use something that didn’t come from a microwave.

“Deal.” She said.

Bartering kept us both from worrying about the books. Hamburgers were
easier to write off than cash. Working would keep me busy. Kahina
might leave me be until the end of my shift. If she showed up at all.

I headed back to my apartment and put on my less raggedy belongings.
Clean clothes that were comfortable enough to swing my arms in. Some
bouncers operated by intimidation factor, others looked deadly.
Sometimes they were sneaky little martial arts majors. Muscles and
size made me the former. The right clothes would help me look like a
wolf or a blood partner. Which I almost had been.

Kahina hadn’t spoken to me in almost four years and she still
fixated. Vampire studies showed that they kept the same type of
associates their entire lives. Dead comrades were often replaced with
someone of a similar build and personality. Obviously Kahina hadn’t
replaced me.

Clothing ended up being a tight shirt showing clear muscles on the
chest and arms. Shopping for taller shirts was hard. Jackets were
harder. I donned one of my fluffier coats and a loose pair of pants.
The shirt covered a cross. As long as it was unexposed things should
remain calm. The hint of its form would keep any visiting vampires
mindful.

Visible threats were all part of a clever facade ensuring a
semi-peaceful existence. If that failed then Western Sector’s
agents would resolve those still standing. Daniel Crumfield was one
of many that forced a fragile peace. Decanters were rare. No one
wanted wars. Hell, we got along as much as we could these last
thousand years. Nearly every city had a substantial percentage of
non-humans.

Julianne’s bar served all types. Most did. Wolves, Elves,
Vampires, they all migrated across the ocean along with humans.
Imagine, three ships headed for the Western Sector. The bottom cargo
hold would have been dedicated to coffins at night. Wolves would have
prowled up top during the day. Elves took their own ship since
they’ve always been snobs. No one wanted to ride with their
trees anyway. Things were different in the other Sectors. Millenniums
of history and superstition drove the races to segregate.

At the bar, things were already in full swing.

“Jeff, you’re on IDs. Get back out there.”
Julianne’s voice kicked me out before I even made it ten feet.
Me, my jacket, and my big dumb persona went to the main door and
carded. It was monotonous work but had its moments.

A few gaggles of teenagers would try to sneak in. Turning them away
was fun but screening got tough. Youngsters often thought a pair of
prosthetic ear extensions would make a fake ID look better. Envy
meant those with money spent tons staying in good condition. Heaven
forbid anyone feel inadequate next to an elf twice their age. By
sundown, I only found one actual fake ID card, which I took pleasure
in tearing up. Sure, there were laws in place to report them, but
that required me to exist on paper. Besides, dropping the ID confetti
down a shirt was fun.

Stand at the door long enough and all sorts were bound to show.
Occasionally younger crowds had an elven member or two. The elf was
typically decades older than the people they were traveling with.
Most of the time they were bubbly and non aggressive.