On Every Street: Chapter 4: Ticket to Heaven

Have to thank two friends for help with this chapter: Elwin for some legalese, and Yllamse for letting me know that Zev’s “mi amor” is more casual for Spanish speakers than it seems. (I still don’t know why Zev is Spanish when he’s from fantasy-Italy, but hey, why not, they’re both sexy.)

Chapter 3: Calling Elvis

 

Chapter 4: Ticket to Heaven

I can see what you’re looking to find
In the smile on my face
In my peace of mind
In my state of grace
I send what I can
To the man from the ministry
He’s a part of Heaven’s plan
And he talks to me

Now I send what I can to the man
With the diamond ring
He’s a part of heaven’s plan
And he sure can sing
Now it’s all I can afford
But the Lord has sent me eternity
It’s to save the little children
In a poor country

I got my ticket to Heaven
And everlasting life
I got a ride all the way to Paradise
I got my ticket to Heaven
And everlasting life
All the way to Paradise

Now there’s nothing left for luxuries
Nothing left to pay my heating bill
But the good Lord will provide
I know he will
So send what you can
To the man with the diamond ring
They’re tuning in across the land
To hear him sing

I got my ticket to Heaven
And everlasting life
I got a ride all the way to Paradise
I got my ticket to Heaven
And everlasting life
All the way to Paradise

She arrived at the designated alley a little before the designated time, turning up the collar of her overcoat against the cold. It was overcast, and the only light came from a pair of dim porch lights, widely spaced apart. There appeared to be no one present, but she didn’t quite believe it.
“Mr. Zev?” she called in a low voice, and received no answer. Maybe there really was no one present.
Sudden movement from almost in front of her; she moved in panicked reflex, snatching up a garbage can lid and swinging it in the direction of the movement, connecting with something; at the same time there was the sound of a gunshot, and a searing, lancing pain in her lower left arm. She flinched both from the sound and from the bullet wound, and when her vision cleared, she looked down to see a figure tumbled down on the ground, pistol pointed steadily at her, but not firing.
He was wearing an overcoat like she was, with a scarf tucked around his neck; his fedora had fallen off, revealing in the dim light golden blond hair, dark skin marked with gang tattoos around his left eye, and elf ears. Her eyes widened.
“Detective Cousland, I presume?” he said, and it was the dry Antivan voice she had spoken to on the phone.
She realized she was standing over him brandishing the garbage can lid like a shield, and put it back on its can. It had been quicker than going for her own pistol in her pocket. And probably safer for her, now that the situation was clearer. She’d only been shot in the arm, and not the heart. “I apologize, but you startled me.”
“Ah. Then I apologize as well. I think I hit you.”
“You did.” She raised her left arm, more to keep it elevated than to show him.
“I’m very sorry. I hope it’s not serious?” He returned his pistol to his own pocket and climbed to his feet, snagging his hat along the way. “May I say you’re just as beautiful as I imagined?”
“I’m here, alone,” she said bluntly, not inclined towards pleasantries with a slowly cooling bullet in her arm and blood trickling down her skin. “Is there anything else I can do for you, or can we deal now?”
He hesitated. “Not out in the open like this. You should know that.”
“Where, then?”
“My place isn’t safe.”
“My roommate is out tonight. We can talk there.”
“Very well. Lead on.” He glanced behind him as if expecting to see someone following him at that very moment.
She frowned. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather do this at the police station, Mr. Zev? You’ll be quite safe there.”
He gave her a pained smile. “Zevran. Zevran Arainai. And no, I would not. I would not rather, and I would not be safer. Only in a certain sense.”
She sighed. “Fine. Follow me.”
She turned… and stopped. There was a big man at the end of the alley, but it was one whom she knew. “Alistair. Alistair Theirin, I told you not to follow me!”
“I know, that’s why I didn’t tell you I was going to do it anyway!”
“You could have put us all in danger,” she snapped, trying to keep her voice down. “And you made me break my word. I made a promise, Alistair.”
Alistair’s expression darkened. “He shot you! I heard it! You were in plenty of danger as it was. He’s lucky I didn’t shoot him before he put his gun away.”
She turned to Arainai with a very uncomfortable look. “I’m so sorry. I truly did believe I came here alone.”
To her surprise, he shrugged. “I expected it, to be honest, but I’m glad it was only him. It’s not like he brought a squad of officers along.” He gave Alistair a hard look. “Right?”
“Um. No, I didn’t.” Alistair grimaced. “Though I should have.”
She walked up to him. “Alistair, please go home and try to rest. I have the situation under control-” which was a total lie, “- and I’ll need you to support me tomorrow.”
Alistair was distracted and looking at her arm rather than her eyes. “He did shoot you! Forget this, go to a hospital-”
“Alistair!” He shut up. “I’ll live. It’s not as important as hearing what Arainai has to say. Go home. I’ll keep you informed as I can.”
He made the sad puppy face. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I’ll do as you say. But get yourself patched up, right? You don’t want to lose that arm.”
“I’ll get it taken care of,” she promised. “Good night.”
“Good night, Elizabeth.”
He watched the two of them leave until they rounded the corner.

“I have to warn you, I might be watched by my side as well,” Arainai said to her in a low voice. “I hope that doesn’t interfere with your plans.”
“’Your side’?” Elizabeth asked. “Will they cause trouble?”
“They might,” he said. “I’m sorry for not saying so sooner. But I have nowhere else that’s safe, even for a short time.”
“How long do you need?”
He gave her a shadowy half-smile. “Why don’t you hear what I have to say and then decide for yourself?”
They walked in rapid silence until they reached her apartment door, where she made him go first. She still didn’t trust him not to pull something on her. They scaled the narrow stairs to her sitting room, where Arainai immediately went to close the curtains before lighting one small lamp and removing his hat and overcoat, folding them over the back of the couch.
She felt unusually awkward about this. She didn’t normally have witnesses at her own apartment. And a male witness… An attractive male witness. He was a little older than her, maybe, well-worn laugh-lines in the corners of his eyes giving that away, his longish shining golden hair was straight and brushed back down to the collar of his stylish green suit, his eyes – now that she saw them in the light – a warm amber, enhanced by the black tattoos around them. He did have a bit of a bruise forming on the right side of his head; her handiwork, no doubt. And he had the self-assurance of a man who knew he was attractive, which only added to his attractiveness.
So incredibly irrelevant. She shook her head free of such ridiculous thoughts and moved to the couch, removing her hat and overcoat on the way. “Can I get you a coffee? Cigarette?” She moved to the kitchen anyway, looking for something to bandage her throbbing arm with until she could go see a doctor.
“No, thank you,” he said politely. “I’m sure you’re bursting with curiosity. I won’t keep you in suspense any longer.” A cocky smirk, followed swiftly by sober seriousness. “Can I help you with your arm?”
“I just need to bandage it to keep the blood in until we’re done here.”
“Allow me. I harmed you, I should help you.” And he was right there, sans suit jacket, warm nimble fingers taking the old dishtowel from her and wrapping it around her arm, then wrapping and tying that with twine to hold it. She wanted to flinch away; she had no wish to be so close to such a stranger, especially one playing his cards so close to his chest.
He smelled like cigarette smoke and cypress and lavender. His breathing was calm and even.
To distract herself from his distractingness, she raised her chin and frowned at him. “Well?”
He took a deep breath, still hesitating until they had returned to the sitting area, to the couches there. “If you’re looking for Theirin’s killer, congratulations, you just found him.”
She almost jumped to her feet, sheer shock overwhelming her senses and mind. “What- how- why-” She panted a short, incredulous laugh. “Care to elaborate? And to explain why you’re giving yourself up when there was no way in hell we were going to find you any time soon?”
“Morrigan Black put you on my trail; you were going to find me anyway. Maybe. As for the other questions…” He leaned back in his seat, looking up towards the ceiling. “I suppose I should start at the beginning.”
“Please.”
“You see, I had an unhappy childhood.” She raised an eyebrow, skeptical at his choice of beginning, and he raised a hand. “No – it is important, I promise. I had an unhappy childhood because I was an orphan… purchased and trained by the Crows. I am the best of their assassins.”
He said it so simply, without bragging, that she had to feel he wasn’t lying. “So that explains how you were able to kill Theirin without detection – though I’m still curious as to how you did it in general.”
He made a brief smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Stole a waiter’s uniform from the wash for access to the grounds, hid in the garden, got caught by Morrigan Black and only got away by giving her your evidence, waited until Theirin went to his room, climbed in and out. Simple, really.”
“I see…”
“But I’m digressing. How I killed him is not really important. Where was I? Ah yes, the Crows. I am tired of the Crows. I wish to leave them. For… personal reasons. Life expectancy has been dwindling with them, as of late, and I want to start again. Without their control.”
“I haven’t heard anything that suggests I’m not going to arrest you here and now,” she said sternly, but made no move. He’d surely get to that part.
He sat up and leaned towards her. “Yes, the key move in my gamble tonight. I was hired on contract to assassinate Theirin. You get me – what is it called, witness protection? A plea bargain? Even though I am guilty, I go free – to another country, perhaps, forever, if necessary. And I give you the ones who signed Theirin’s death warrant.”
She stared, speechless. It was tempting. So tempting. She had said to herself that catching the assassin was secondary to the one or ones who had ordered the assassination in the first place. That justice was better served by locking them up, rather than the man used to do it – almost as well lock up the knife Arainai had used. Well, then, those cards were on the table.
“If you choose to arrest me instead – bird in the hand and all that – I won’t be able to reveal who hired me,” he added.
That caught her attention. “’Won’t be able to reveal’?”
He flashed a brilliant, disarming grin. “I never actually saw the contract. The information all came down through my handler.”
She glared at him. “Then how do you propose to discover who hired you? It seems to me I am only marginally better off than before.”
“Simple. I have run; now we see who follows. I’m the loose thread in their plan. We tug on it, and see what else unravels.”
“So it’s ‘we’ now, hmm?” She was still frowning, and he was still smiling in cheerful self-assurance. What an arrogant, presumptive…
She needed to serve justice. She sighed. “Very well. I’ll get you informant status. I can’t promise a full pardon but I’ll do my best.” She fixed him with a stern look. “In exchange, you and I are going to work to the bone to uncover the truth behind this.”
“Excellent. I agree.” He leaned forward and offered his hand to shake. She took it reluctantly, distrusting his touch more than ever now that she knew he was an assassin.
“I suppose you’re wanting to stay the night, since you’ll undoubtedly be watched if you stay,” she said.
“I hope it’s not too much of an imposition. You said your roommate is away? Then she’ll be in no danger. And may I say what a lovely place you have.”
She snorted. It was a pretty rubbish apartment, really. “Flatterer. How did you know my roommate was female?”
“Simple observation, mi amor.” He gestured to the doors of both bedrooms, which were partly ajar. “Either you are using both bedrooms, in which case – the poor man who has to share with you – or, a lady lives in each room. Or perhaps a man who enjoys dressing as a lady-”
“All right, shut up,” she said, but not harshly, and began putting on her overcoat again. Her arm pained her and he had to help her get her left sleeve on. “I’m going to go see Doctor Wynne. She has discretion and won’t ask questions. Stay put while I’m gone.”
“I wouldn’t dream of moving,” he said cheerfully. “Watch your back.”

 

Chapter 5: The Bug

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