| Fantasy Fiction posted June 22, 2019 |
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An unlikely promotion in an other-worldly hierarchy...
Of Agencies and Aegis
by Y. M. Roger
“It was going to be the trip of a lifetime.”
The detective eyed me curiously, disbelief etched in every line of his handsome face. Yeah, it didn’t sound great to my sensitive ears either, but it was the best I’d come up with when confronted by the two of them. So much for our organization’s motto of Quietly Culling since the Fall of Rome.
I could feel this guy’s partner prowling along the ledge behind me, but that one was easy to track even without turning – he was big and muscular and pegged the ‘not-ever-my-type’ region of my attraction-meter. I held this much more interesting one’s questioning gaze as I tried to control the agitation and other inexplicable sensations beginning to well up inside of me.
“That’s it? He didn’t add anything else?” He prodded in what registered in my mind as a sensual tone, his warm, brown eyes narrowing as he ran a graceful hand through his way-too-long-for-regulation hair. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear there was a spark of interest there.
How was a man this unkempt, this uninteresting, this human suddenly so attractive? Of course, that line of self-examination still didn’t change the fact that he didn’t believe me. I felt my own eye roll even before it happened as I released a heavy breath that curved upward to ruffle my indigo bangs. I did, however, manage to prevent my wings from shimmering their annoyance, the invisibility spell holding firm. Why was it always the ones that got under your skin that you’d really like to…
“Look, Wild Bill,” I said sarcastically as I brushed a few non-existent wrinkles in my skin-tight uniform and focused my gaze on my hands instead of on his dark chocolate eyes that were becoming more and more enticing, “like I said: I was out here for a breath of fresh air and this guy approaches me, says something with respect to trip and lifetime, and then proceeds to walk off the edge of the building there.”
It wasn’t a lie, really – broad, generalized descriptions of any incident could gloss over or simply omit certain details, right?
Raising my eyes to his once more, I saw that a huge frown had encompassed his face at my ‘gorgeous yet dangerous’ lawman reference. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at being referred to as the quasi-infamous Hickok or if he had no idea why I called him that name. I’m pretty sure the reference showed a little of my age, too, but I didn’t care – I really just wanted to test if that shoulder-length hair of his was as soft as it appeared. What can I say? I must have a thing for vigilantes.
He had finally decided on a response when he was preempted.
“No sign of a struggle,” the brilliant partner chimed in from behind me.
My knees bent slightly as my eyes rolled again. Yes, I can be quite dramatic when called for. This time, however, I just kept my mouth shut, sighed loudly, and shook my head a few times as I examined my nails with interest. I had just finished getting them done this morning, and the striping that accented their exaggerated length was some of the best I’d seen in a while.
And even though my partner was the Senior Agent in our unlikely duo, we were definitely going to discuss the ‘excessive screaming during a fall’, especially when we were in the crowded city like this. Agent Nero (I don’t even try to pronounce his last name) was one of the oldest jinns in the Agency and, when we had the opportunity to eliminate a target by having them jump off a building or bridge, he seemed to gain some sort of additional pleasure by screaming something akin to ‘Cowabunga’ and other less savory language on the way down. That was going to have to stop because it wasn’t him that had to field the attention such a spectacle brought – it was me. ‘Attention’ case in point: Detective Sex-on-a-stick Hickok here.
Speaking of whom, said detective’s gaze intensified as he spoke at rather than to his partner.
“Collins, go check the body and take care of the handshake*.” He took a step toward me, lowering his phone he’d been using for information recording. “And contact Andrew – have him run a full check on the db* and a Miiiiss ” – he squinted down at my handy driver’s license and back up at me a few times before shaking his head and chuckling – “and a Miss N Joy Abel.”
He raised an eyebrow, those seductive eyes now resembling a pair of sparkling amber gemstones. I simply returned the eyebrow and smirked. His partner appeared from behind me and swaggered past the two of us headed toward the roof exit, laughing his next comment.
“Yeah, good luck with that…” There was a pause as Collins stopped to look up a number on his phone. Collins then raised the phone to his ear and leaned in to Wild Bill and finished his statement before continuing, “Detective Hickok.”
Immediately, Bill’s eyebrow fell and his friendly smirk was replaced with an annoyed frown and more of the narrowing eyes. A muffled yet distinct growl rumbled from somewhere deep inside of him, and the dark, brooding look had the rumbly vibrations suggesting all sorts of pleasurable things to my empathic skin.
Wait, perhaps I should explain. Have you ever heard of guardian angels and such that look out for individuals and their well-being? Well, that is not our agency, although they’ve certainly been around about as long as we have. They're called the Soul Protection and Companion Agency (SPCA) and they have a completely different mission statement which I’m not going to get into here. They’re also very expensive and quite full of themselves, but, as I said, I’m not going there right now.
Nero and I work for the Debris Elimination Agency (DEA) and, as our motto I stated before implies, we are charged with the task of searching out and eliminating the humans that either have no soul or have sold theirs in favor of damning or damaging others.
In short, we cull the human debris.
The key to our eliminations, however, is that they must be done at the hand of the one being eliminated – in other words, we have to make sure they are removed from the human gene pool by assuring they commit suicide.
The two of us work well together despite the chasm of differences between us. As an ancient jinn, Nero is our ‘weapon’. He possesses – the literal term of that word here – the target and instigates a self-destructive action – gunshot, drug overdose, wrist slitting, hanging, or jumping to name most of the more common ones. Once the action has progressed to the point of no return, Nero gets out, leaving us the simple task of verifying the death.
Myself? Well, as a rare empathic Dark Fae, I am able to identify the disturbances in the fabric of our reality that the actions of the soulless or, in this guy’s case, the blackened souls create. Once located, I’m able to touch them and ‘see’, for lack of a better term, the most emotionally-stimulating moments of their lives. With few exceptions, those moments are so unspeakable and horrible that I do not voice them – Nero says my body’s physical reaction is enough for him. There have been times that I’m pretty sure I may not have come back from the abysses of Hell had Nero not been there to pull me back.
My ‘sight’ is our verification that we have, indeed, located our target. To put our partnership in human terms, I am the blood hound (with video-surveillance files) and Nero is the rifle-toting posse. I find and verify a target so that Nero can eliminate them – the only difference being that he actually steps into them to aid them in eliminating themselves.
The human male lying on the ground at the base of this building was a child rapist who, it seems, had trained himself on his little sister years ago. His assault on an eleven-year-old was what pinged my radar a little over an hour ago.
The exit door slammed shut behind Collins, and my sexy detective took another step forward. I lowered my hand from fingernail art appreciation and instantly went on alert. My skin began to hum as his close proximity brought his very enjoyable scent to tease my olfactory. No way was that a human scent…
I took a step backward. I reached behind and grasped the handle of my shortsword that ran the length of my back. There was far too much ‘not right’ with this situation, and my body’s reaction to this strange being was a big part of that. His hand had begun a slow rise toward my face when the sounds of Nero pulling himself over the ledge and back onto the roof interrupted our…whatever this was.
It was my sometimes insane partner’s voice that finally had me taking another step backward and slowly unsheathing my blade.
“Oh, hells no! You have got to be kidding me! Theronel?”
Nero’s address had the handsome detective’s attention snapping to my partner's position behind me and, as a result, had me displaying my weapon and stepping into a ready stance. Humans are unable to see or hear Nero: he simply appears as a concentrated mist to their eyes.
“Nero.” This Theronel stated my partner’s name with a bit of disgust and a whole lot of exasperation. Oh, good – these two had history.
And, of course, Nero passed right through me to place himself between the Theronel and myself. I hated it when he did that pass through thing – it would always take my senses a few moments to re-orient after the sensation. This time, however, it was like a fan to those low flames the alluring Theronel had unknowingly started during our stand-off. I stepped back and took a few moments to re-sheath my blade and to try to get my libido under control.
“What’s the DEA target there” – Nero thumbed in the direction of the edge of the building and, presumably, our dead target – “got to do with D-A business?”
D-A? I sighed and shook my head. Great, we’d stepped into the middle of a Dark Angel op. I’d never met an actual D-A in person – they were the elite operatives of our immortal realm. They were somewhere just below the gods yet shared an unspoken and real heritage with them. The Dark Angels functioned under their own set of rules and, as far as any of the Agencies were aware, they didn’t answer to anyone. Okay, that wasn’t completely true – we’d heard tell of rare occasions when a particular god or goddess would step in, but that was more hearsay than fact.
When Theronel didn’t answer Nero, I looked up from my musings just in time to see him step through Nero to stand directly in front of me.
Again.
And, just like that, every part of me could feel the power radiating from him. And, yeah, I wanted him in so many more ways than just standing...
“You lied to me, Fae.” It was a statement more than an accusation and his scent wrapped itself around me as he spoke.
Not looking away but huffing a bit of a nervous laugh, I responded.
“And you didn’t believe me, D-A.” I looked down and began to smooth those non-existent wrinkles again for a whole new host of reasons. Why was my body reacting this way? “So, I’d say we were even, eh, Bill?”
His face hardened at what was most likely an insolent remark to one of his stature, and I heard Nero suck in a quick breath. But before I had time to worry about the repercussions of my remarks, Theronel’s face split into a huge grin, and he laughed out loud. The sound and the vibrations of it against my empathic skin were just wonderful, and I wanted more. So much more.
Still laughing, Theronel spoke to Nero but did not break our visual connection. He even nodded just in the slightest, almost as if he’d been able to read my mind, as a slight grin ghosted over his lips.
“I will explain it over lunch tomorrow, jinn.” I couldn’t decide if the statement was meant to be condescending or if it was just the way a D-A spoke to everyone, but the next part was, without a doubt, an order. “You will both be there.”
Nero had appeared beside us, but, still, Theronel did not look in his direction.
“Should I contact the home office and have them halt any eliminations in this sector until we talk?”
It was evident in Nero’s tone as well as his body language that he was not happy with Theronel’s authoritative stance, not that there was a whole lot Nero could do about it. An ancient jinn was powerful indeed, but a D-A? That was a whole other level of ‘do not cross me’.
Theronel reached up and brushed a thumb on my cheek and chuckled in a perfectly seductive manner.
“The trip of a lifetime, huh?” he whispered so that only my sensitive ears could hear him – his eyes falling to my lips and back up to meet my gaze, “You have no idea.”
I could feel the sensations of that single touch radiate throughout my entire body. It ignited my ‘sight’ ability, and, instead of a long-haired and sloppily-dressed detective walking away from us, I saw a gorgeous, god-like figure radiating a light of his own with huge black wings billowing behind him. But the vision faded just as soon as I’d had a chance to catch my breath from its splendor.
Theronel spoke as he continued toward the exit.
“No, Nero.” There was that chuckle again as he pulled open the door to exit the roof. “But you will need to contact the DEA resource department because after we talk tomorrow, you’ll need a new partner.”
I felt rather than heard Nero’s protest gust as he whirred toward Theronel.
“No! Do you know how long it has taken to tra–”
Theronel simply raised a palm in the direction of Nero’s approach, and my usually invincible partner crashed to the ground – colorful mist radiating outward from his position. I just stood there, dumbfounded.
“I will give you that one and only that one, jinn.” His voice stung my skin initially, but, almost instantly, the stinging calmed. “We will discuss further options for you if you wish, Nero.” He raised his gaze to mine as Nero remained on the floor, and I instantly felt Theronel's voice caress my skin again. “But the Fae’s promotion is final.”
Me? I honestly wasn’t sure what to think about any of this. Although, one thing was for sure: I was definitely looking forward to lunch tomorrow.
This Sentence Starts The Story contest entry
“It was going to be the trip of a lifetime.”
The detective eyed me curiously, disbelief etched in every line of his handsome face. Yeah, it didn’t sound great to my sensitive ears either, but it was the best I’d come up with when confronted by the two of them. So much for our organization’s motto of Quietly Culling since the Fall of Rome.
I could feel this guy’s partner prowling along the ledge behind me, but that one was easy to track even without turning – he was big and muscular and pegged the ‘not-ever-my-type’ region of my attraction-meter. I held this much more interesting one’s questioning gaze as I tried to control the agitation and other inexplicable sensations beginning to well up inside of me.
“That’s it? He didn’t add anything else?” He prodded in what registered in my mind as a sensual tone, his warm, brown eyes narrowing as he ran a graceful hand through his way-too-long-for-regulation hair. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear there was a spark of interest there.
How was a man this unkempt, this uninteresting, this human suddenly so attractive? Of course, that line of self-examination still didn’t change the fact that he didn’t believe me. I felt my own eye roll even before it happened as I released a heavy breath that curved upward to ruffle my indigo bangs. I did, however, manage to prevent my wings from shimmering their annoyance, the invisibility spell holding firm. Why was it always the ones that got under your skin that you’d really like to…
“Look, Wild Bill,” I said sarcastically as I brushed a few non-existent wrinkles in my skin-tight uniform and focused my gaze on my hands instead of on his dark chocolate eyes that were becoming more and more enticing, “like I said: I was out here for a breath of fresh air and this guy approaches me, says something with respect to trip and lifetime, and then proceeds to walk off the edge of the building there.”
It wasn’t a lie, really – broad, generalized descriptions of any incident could gloss over or simply omit certain details, right?
Raising my eyes to his once more, I saw that a huge frown had encompassed his face at my ‘gorgeous yet dangerous’ lawman reference. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at being referred to as the quasi-infamous Hickok or if he had no idea why I called him that name. I’m pretty sure the reference showed a little of my age, too, but I didn’t care – I really just wanted to test if that shoulder-length hair of his was as soft as it appeared. What can I say? I must have a thing for vigilantes.
He had finally decided on a response when he was preempted.
“No sign of a struggle,” the brilliant partner chimed in from behind me.
My knees bent slightly as my eyes rolled again. Yes, I can be quite dramatic when called for. This time, however, I just kept my mouth shut, sighed loudly, and shook my head a few times as I examined my nails with interest. I had just finished getting them done this morning, and the striping that accented their exaggerated length was some of the best I’d seen in a while.
And even though my partner was the Senior Agent in our unlikely duo, we were definitely going to discuss the ‘excessive screaming during a fall’, especially when we were in the crowded city like this. Agent Nero (I don’t even try to pronounce his last name) was one of the oldest jinns in the Agency and, when we had the opportunity to eliminate a target by having them jump off a building or bridge, he seemed to gain some sort of additional pleasure by screaming something akin to ‘Cowabunga’ and other less savory language on the way down. That was going to have to stop because it wasn’t him that had to field the attention such a spectacle brought – it was me. ‘Attention’ case in point: Detective Sex-on-a-stick Hickok here.
Speaking of whom, said detective’s gaze intensified as he spoke at rather than to his partner.
“Collins, go check the body and take care of the handshake*.” He took a step toward me, lowering his phone he’d been using for information recording. “And contact Andrew – have him run a full check on the db* and a Miiiiss ” – he squinted down at my handy driver’s license and back up at me a few times before shaking his head and chuckling – “and a Miss N Joy Abel.”
He raised an eyebrow, those seductive eyes now resembling a pair of sparkling amber gemstones. I simply returned the eyebrow and smirked. His partner appeared from behind me and swaggered past the two of us headed toward the roof exit, laughing his next comment.
“Yeah, good luck with that…” There was a pause as Collins stopped to look up a number on his phone. Collins then raised the phone to his ear and leaned in to Wild Bill and finished his statement before continuing, “Detective Hickok.”
Immediately, Bill’s eyebrow fell and his friendly smirk was replaced with an annoyed frown and more of the narrowing eyes. A muffled yet distinct growl rumbled from somewhere deep inside of him, and the dark, brooding look had the rumbly vibrations suggesting all sorts of pleasurable things to my empathic skin.
Wait, perhaps I should explain. Have you ever heard of guardian angels and such that look out for individuals and their well-being? Well, that is not our agency, although they’ve certainly been around about as long as we have. They're called the Soul Protection and Companion Agency (SPCA) and they have a completely different mission statement which I’m not going to get into here. They’re also very expensive and quite full of themselves, but, as I said, I’m not going there right now.
Nero and I work for the Debris Elimination Agency (DEA) and, as our motto I stated before implies, we are charged with the task of searching out and eliminating the humans that either have no soul or have sold theirs in favor of damning or damaging others.
In short, we cull the human debris.
The key to our eliminations, however, is that they must be done at the hand of the one being eliminated – in other words, we have to make sure they are removed from the human gene pool by assuring they commit suicide.
The two of us work well together despite the chasm of differences between us. As an ancient jinn, Nero is our ‘weapon’. He possesses – the literal term of that word here – the target and instigates a self-destructive action – gunshot, drug overdose, wrist slitting, hanging, or jumping to name most of the more common ones. Once the action has progressed to the point of no return, Nero gets out, leaving us the simple task of verifying the death.
Myself? Well, as a rare empathic Dark Fae, I am able to identify the disturbances in the fabric of our reality that the actions of the soulless or, in this guy’s case, the blackened souls create. Once located, I’m able to touch them and ‘see’, for lack of a better term, the most emotionally-stimulating moments of their lives. With few exceptions, those moments are so unspeakable and horrible that I do not voice them – Nero says my body’s physical reaction is enough for him. There have been times that I’m pretty sure I may not have come back from the abysses of Hell had Nero not been there to pull me back.
My ‘sight’ is our verification that we have, indeed, located our target. To put our partnership in human terms, I am the blood hound (with video-surveillance files) and Nero is the rifle-toting posse. I find and verify a target so that Nero can eliminate them – the only difference being that he actually steps into them to aid them in eliminating themselves.
The human male lying on the ground at the base of this building was a child rapist who, it seems, had trained himself on his little sister years ago. His assault on an eleven-year-old was what pinged my radar a little over an hour ago.
The exit door slammed shut behind Collins, and my sexy detective took another step forward. I lowered my hand from fingernail art appreciation and instantly went on alert. My skin began to hum as his close proximity brought his very enjoyable scent to tease my olfactory. No way was that a human scent…
I took a step backward. I reached behind and grasped the handle of my shortsword that ran the length of my back. There was far too much ‘not right’ with this situation, and my body’s reaction to this strange being was a big part of that. His hand had begun a slow rise toward my face when the sounds of Nero pulling himself over the ledge and back onto the roof interrupted our…whatever this was.
It was my sometimes insane partner’s voice that finally had me taking another step backward and slowly unsheathing my blade.
“Oh, hells no! You have got to be kidding me! Theronel?”
Nero’s address had the handsome detective’s attention snapping to my partner's position behind me and, as a result, had me displaying my weapon and stepping into a ready stance. Humans are unable to see or hear Nero: he simply appears as a concentrated mist to their eyes.
“Nero.” This Theronel stated my partner’s name with a bit of disgust and a whole lot of exasperation. Oh, good – these two had history.
And, of course, Nero passed right through me to place himself between the Theronel and myself. I hated it when he did that pass through thing – it would always take my senses a few moments to re-orient after the sensation. This time, however, it was like a fan to those low flames the alluring Theronel had unknowingly started during our stand-off. I stepped back and took a few moments to re-sheath my blade and to try to get my libido under control.
“What’s the DEA target there” – Nero thumbed in the direction of the edge of the building and, presumably, our dead target – “got to do with D-A business?”
D-A? I sighed and shook my head. Great, we’d stepped into the middle of a Dark Angel op. I’d never met an actual D-A in person – they were the elite operatives of our immortal realm. They were somewhere just below the gods yet shared an unspoken and real heritage with them. The Dark Angels functioned under their own set of rules and, as far as any of the Agencies were aware, they didn’t answer to anyone. Okay, that wasn’t completely true – we’d heard tell of rare occasions when a particular god or goddess would step in, but that was more hearsay than fact.
When Theronel didn’t answer Nero, I looked up from my musings just in time to see him step through Nero to stand directly in front of me.
Again.
And, just like that, every part of me could feel the power radiating from him. And, yeah, I wanted him in so many more ways than just standing...
“You lied to me, Fae.” It was a statement more than an accusation and his scent wrapped itself around me as he spoke.
Not looking away but huffing a bit of a nervous laugh, I responded.
“And you didn’t believe me, D-A.” I looked down and began to smooth those non-existent wrinkles again for a whole new host of reasons. Why was my body reacting this way? “So, I’d say we were even, eh, Bill?”
His face hardened at what was most likely an insolent remark to one of his stature, and I heard Nero suck in a quick breath. But before I had time to worry about the repercussions of my remarks, Theronel’s face split into a huge grin, and he laughed out loud. The sound and the vibrations of it against my empathic skin were just wonderful, and I wanted more. So much more.
Still laughing, Theronel spoke to Nero but did not break our visual connection. He even nodded just in the slightest, almost as if he’d been able to read my mind, as a slight grin ghosted over his lips.
“I will explain it over lunch tomorrow, jinn.” I couldn’t decide if the statement was meant to be condescending or if it was just the way a D-A spoke to everyone, but the next part was, without a doubt, an order. “You will both be there.”
Nero had appeared beside us, but, still, Theronel did not look in his direction.
“Should I contact the home office and have them halt any eliminations in this sector until we talk?”
It was evident in Nero’s tone as well as his body language that he was not happy with Theronel’s authoritative stance, not that there was a whole lot Nero could do about it. An ancient jinn was powerful indeed, but a D-A? That was a whole other level of ‘do not cross me’.
Theronel reached up and brushed a thumb on my cheek and chuckled in a perfectly seductive manner.
“The trip of a lifetime, huh?” he whispered so that only my sensitive ears could hear him – his eyes falling to my lips and back up to meet my gaze, “You have no idea.”
I could feel the sensations of that single touch radiate throughout my entire body. It ignited my ‘sight’ ability, and, instead of a long-haired and sloppily-dressed detective walking away from us, I saw a gorgeous, god-like figure radiating a light of his own with huge black wings billowing behind him. But the vision faded just as soon as I’d had a chance to catch my breath from its splendor.
Theronel spoke as he continued toward the exit.
“No, Nero.” There was that chuckle again as he pulled open the door to exit the roof. “But you will need to contact the DEA resource department because after we talk tomorrow, you’ll need a new partner.”
I felt rather than heard Nero’s protest gust as he whirred toward Theronel.
“No! Do you know how long it has taken to tra–”
Theronel simply raised a palm in the direction of Nero’s approach, and my usually invincible partner crashed to the ground – colorful mist radiating outward from his position. I just stood there, dumbfounded.
“I will give you that one and only that one, jinn.” His voice stung my skin initially, but, almost instantly, the stinging calmed. “We will discuss further options for you if you wish, Nero.” He raised his gaze to mine as Nero remained on the floor, and I instantly felt Theronel's voice caress my skin again. “But the Fae’s promotion is final.”
Me? I honestly wasn’t sure what to think about any of this. Although, one thing was for sure: I was definitely looking forward to lunch tomorrow.
The detective eyed me curiously, disbelief etched in every line of his handsome face. Yeah, it didn’t sound great to my sensitive ears either, but it was the best I’d come up with when confronted by the two of them. So much for our organization’s motto of Quietly Culling since the Fall of Rome.
I could feel this guy’s partner prowling along the ledge behind me, but that one was easy to track even without turning – he was big and muscular and pegged the ‘not-ever-my-type’ region of my attraction-meter. I held this much more interesting one’s questioning gaze as I tried to control the agitation and other inexplicable sensations beginning to well up inside of me.
“That’s it? He didn’t add anything else?” He prodded in what registered in my mind as a sensual tone, his warm, brown eyes narrowing as he ran a graceful hand through his way-too-long-for-regulation hair. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear there was a spark of interest there.
How was a man this unkempt, this uninteresting, this human suddenly so attractive? Of course, that line of self-examination still didn’t change the fact that he didn’t believe me. I felt my own eye roll even before it happened as I released a heavy breath that curved upward to ruffle my indigo bangs. I did, however, manage to prevent my wings from shimmering their annoyance, the invisibility spell holding firm. Why was it always the ones that got under your skin that you’d really like to…
“Look, Wild Bill,” I said sarcastically as I brushed a few non-existent wrinkles in my skin-tight uniform and focused my gaze on my hands instead of on his dark chocolate eyes that were becoming more and more enticing, “like I said: I was out here for a breath of fresh air and this guy approaches me, says something with respect to trip and lifetime, and then proceeds to walk off the edge of the building there.”
It wasn’t a lie, really – broad, generalized descriptions of any incident could gloss over or simply omit certain details, right?
Raising my eyes to his once more, I saw that a huge frown had encompassed his face at my ‘gorgeous yet dangerous’ lawman reference. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at being referred to as the quasi-infamous Hickok or if he had no idea why I called him that name. I’m pretty sure the reference showed a little of my age, too, but I didn’t care – I really just wanted to test if that shoulder-length hair of his was as soft as it appeared. What can I say? I must have a thing for vigilantes.
He had finally decided on a response when he was preempted.
“No sign of a struggle,” the brilliant partner chimed in from behind me.
My knees bent slightly as my eyes rolled again. Yes, I can be quite dramatic when called for. This time, however, I just kept my mouth shut, sighed loudly, and shook my head a few times as I examined my nails with interest. I had just finished getting them done this morning, and the striping that accented their exaggerated length was some of the best I’d seen in a while.
And even though my partner was the Senior Agent in our unlikely duo, we were definitely going to discuss the ‘excessive screaming during a fall’, especially when we were in the crowded city like this. Agent Nero (I don’t even try to pronounce his last name) was one of the oldest jinns in the Agency and, when we had the opportunity to eliminate a target by having them jump off a building or bridge, he seemed to gain some sort of additional pleasure by screaming something akin to ‘Cowabunga’ and other less savory language on the way down. That was going to have to stop because it wasn’t him that had to field the attention such a spectacle brought – it was me. ‘Attention’ case in point: Detective Sex-on-a-stick Hickok here.
Speaking of whom, said detective’s gaze intensified as he spoke at rather than to his partner.
“Collins, go check the body and take care of the handshake*.” He took a step toward me, lowering his phone he’d been using for information recording. “And contact Andrew – have him run a full check on the db* and a Miiiiss ” – he squinted down at my handy driver’s license and back up at me a few times before shaking his head and chuckling – “and a Miss N Joy Abel.”
He raised an eyebrow, those seductive eyes now resembling a pair of sparkling amber gemstones. I simply returned the eyebrow and smirked. His partner appeared from behind me and swaggered past the two of us headed toward the roof exit, laughing his next comment.
“Yeah, good luck with that…” There was a pause as Collins stopped to look up a number on his phone. Collins then raised the phone to his ear and leaned in to Wild Bill and finished his statement before continuing, “Detective Hickok.”
Immediately, Bill’s eyebrow fell and his friendly smirk was replaced with an annoyed frown and more of the narrowing eyes. A muffled yet distinct growl rumbled from somewhere deep inside of him, and the dark, brooding look had the rumbly vibrations suggesting all sorts of pleasurable things to my empathic skin.
Wait, perhaps I should explain. Have you ever heard of guardian angels and such that look out for individuals and their well-being? Well, that is not our agency, although they’ve certainly been around about as long as we have. They're called the Soul Protection and Companion Agency (SPCA) and they have a completely different mission statement which I’m not going to get into here. They’re also very expensive and quite full of themselves, but, as I said, I’m not going there right now.
Nero and I work for the Debris Elimination Agency (DEA) and, as our motto I stated before implies, we are charged with the task of searching out and eliminating the humans that either have no soul or have sold theirs in favor of damning or damaging others.
In short, we cull the human debris.
The key to our eliminations, however, is that they must be done at the hand of the one being eliminated – in other words, we have to make sure they are removed from the human gene pool by assuring they commit suicide.
The two of us work well together despite the chasm of differences between us. As an ancient jinn, Nero is our ‘weapon’. He possesses – the literal term of that word here – the target and instigates a self-destructive action – gunshot, drug overdose, wrist slitting, hanging, or jumping to name most of the more common ones. Once the action has progressed to the point of no return, Nero gets out, leaving us the simple task of verifying the death.
Myself? Well, as a rare empathic Dark Fae, I am able to identify the disturbances in the fabric of our reality that the actions of the soulless or, in this guy’s case, the blackened souls create. Once located, I’m able to touch them and ‘see’, for lack of a better term, the most emotionally-stimulating moments of their lives. With few exceptions, those moments are so unspeakable and horrible that I do not voice them – Nero says my body’s physical reaction is enough for him. There have been times that I’m pretty sure I may not have come back from the abysses of Hell had Nero not been there to pull me back.
My ‘sight’ is our verification that we have, indeed, located our target. To put our partnership in human terms, I am the blood hound (with video-surveillance files) and Nero is the rifle-toting posse. I find and verify a target so that Nero can eliminate them – the only difference being that he actually steps into them to aid them in eliminating themselves.
The human male lying on the ground at the base of this building was a child rapist who, it seems, had trained himself on his little sister years ago. His assault on an eleven-year-old was what pinged my radar a little over an hour ago.
The exit door slammed shut behind Collins, and my sexy detective took another step forward. I lowered my hand from fingernail art appreciation and instantly went on alert. My skin began to hum as his close proximity brought his very enjoyable scent to tease my olfactory. No way was that a human scent…
I took a step backward. I reached behind and grasped the handle of my shortsword that ran the length of my back. There was far too much ‘not right’ with this situation, and my body’s reaction to this strange being was a big part of that. His hand had begun a slow rise toward my face when the sounds of Nero pulling himself over the ledge and back onto the roof interrupted our…whatever this was.
It was my sometimes insane partner’s voice that finally had me taking another step backward and slowly unsheathing my blade.
“Oh, hells no! You have got to be kidding me! Theronel?”
Nero’s address had the handsome detective’s attention snapping to my partner's position behind me and, as a result, had me displaying my weapon and stepping into a ready stance. Humans are unable to see or hear Nero: he simply appears as a concentrated mist to their eyes.
“Nero.” This Theronel stated my partner’s name with a bit of disgust and a whole lot of exasperation. Oh, good – these two had history.
And, of course, Nero passed right through me to place himself between the Theronel and myself. I hated it when he did that pass through thing – it would always take my senses a few moments to re-orient after the sensation. This time, however, it was like a fan to those low flames the alluring Theronel had unknowingly started during our stand-off. I stepped back and took a few moments to re-sheath my blade and to try to get my libido under control.
“What’s the DEA target there” – Nero thumbed in the direction of the edge of the building and, presumably, our dead target – “got to do with D-A business?”
D-A? I sighed and shook my head. Great, we’d stepped into the middle of a Dark Angel op. I’d never met an actual D-A in person – they were the elite operatives of our immortal realm. They were somewhere just below the gods yet shared an unspoken and real heritage with them. The Dark Angels functioned under their own set of rules and, as far as any of the Agencies were aware, they didn’t answer to anyone. Okay, that wasn’t completely true – we’d heard tell of rare occasions when a particular god or goddess would step in, but that was more hearsay than fact.
When Theronel didn’t answer Nero, I looked up from my musings just in time to see him step through Nero to stand directly in front of me.
Again.
And, just like that, every part of me could feel the power radiating from him. And, yeah, I wanted him in so many more ways than just standing...
“You lied to me, Fae.” It was a statement more than an accusation and his scent wrapped itself around me as he spoke.
Not looking away but huffing a bit of a nervous laugh, I responded.
“And you didn’t believe me, D-A.” I looked down and began to smooth those non-existent wrinkles again for a whole new host of reasons. Why was my body reacting this way? “So, I’d say we were even, eh, Bill?”
His face hardened at what was most likely an insolent remark to one of his stature, and I heard Nero suck in a quick breath. But before I had time to worry about the repercussions of my remarks, Theronel’s face split into a huge grin, and he laughed out loud. The sound and the vibrations of it against my empathic skin were just wonderful, and I wanted more. So much more.
Still laughing, Theronel spoke to Nero but did not break our visual connection. He even nodded just in the slightest, almost as if he’d been able to read my mind, as a slight grin ghosted over his lips.
“I will explain it over lunch tomorrow, jinn.” I couldn’t decide if the statement was meant to be condescending or if it was just the way a D-A spoke to everyone, but the next part was, without a doubt, an order. “You will both be there.”
Nero had appeared beside us, but, still, Theronel did not look in his direction.
“Should I contact the home office and have them halt any eliminations in this sector until we talk?”
It was evident in Nero’s tone as well as his body language that he was not happy with Theronel’s authoritative stance, not that there was a whole lot Nero could do about it. An ancient jinn was powerful indeed, but a D-A? That was a whole other level of ‘do not cross me’.
Theronel reached up and brushed a thumb on my cheek and chuckled in a perfectly seductive manner.
“The trip of a lifetime, huh?” he whispered so that only my sensitive ears could hear him – his eyes falling to my lips and back up to meet my gaze, “You have no idea.”
I could feel the sensations of that single touch radiate throughout my entire body. It ignited my ‘sight’ ability, and, instead of a long-haired and sloppily-dressed detective walking away from us, I saw a gorgeous, god-like figure radiating a light of his own with huge black wings billowing behind him. But the vision faded just as soon as I’d had a chance to catch my breath from its splendor.
Theronel spoke as he continued toward the exit.
“No, Nero.” There was that chuckle again as he pulled open the door to exit the roof. “But you will need to contact the DEA resource department because after we talk tomorrow, you’ll need a new partner.”
I felt rather than heard Nero’s protest gust as he whirred toward Theronel.
“No! Do you know how long it has taken to tra–”
Theronel simply raised a palm in the direction of Nero’s approach, and my usually invincible partner crashed to the ground – colorful mist radiating outward from his position. I just stood there, dumbfounded.
“I will give you that one and only that one, jinn.” His voice stung my skin initially, but, almost instantly, the stinging calmed. “We will discuss further options for you if you wish, Nero.” He raised his gaze to mine as Nero remained on the floor, and I instantly felt Theronel's voice caress my skin again. “But the Fae’s promotion is final.”
Me? I honestly wasn’t sure what to think about any of this. Although, one thing was for sure: I was definitely looking forward to lunch tomorrow.
 Recognized |
Yep, the blonde has stepped off the reality train again - I hope you enjoyed the detour! Thank you for reading me. ;)
*handshake - the passing of the custody of a dead body from one agency to another. In this case, from the detectives on the scene to the coroner.
*db - 'dead body'
Image of 'rooftop sunrise' on Google Images.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. *handshake - the passing of the custody of a dead body from one agency to another. In this case, from the detectives on the scene to the coroner.
*db - 'dead body'
Image of 'rooftop sunrise' on Google Images.
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