Justice Served Cold: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (Rewriting Justice Book 1) Read online

  “Try to stay away from the rogue wizards,” he yelled back at her.

  Leira looked down at the key and smiled crookedly. He cares. I get it. She shoved the key in her pocket and walked to the doorway.

  “You stay away from any...”

  She stopped mid-sentence and looked around the room. The only traces of Turner were the small round spots from his cane on the dusty hardwood floors.

  “How does he do that?”

  Turner stood down the block from Leira’s house, looking back at it and shaking his head. He knew about the fight with the wizard. He had sensed it, and he had hoped she would tell him. Whether she was on his team or not, she was the key to a viable future for all magical beings when the gates began to open on Earth and magic returned, seeping over from Oriceran. He knew she could take care of herself, but new enemies were running across the world. I know exactly where things could lead, and it’s a very dark future. Particularly without you.

  He nodded at an older woman who was sitting on her porch with her cat curled up in her lap. He knew more than he was letting on, but then again he always did. He might be the retired Fixer, but that didn’t mean he didn’t harbor his own world of secrets: ones that could shape or destroy the future.

  At least I know she’s all right... for now.

  5

  Senator Thatcher of Ohio tapped impatient fingers against the large wooden table in the conference room. He looked up at the other Ohioan Senator, Brownwood, who was jotting something on a piece of paper in front of him. Brownwood’s shiny bald head twinkled with perspiration. The hot DC weather was getting to him and he was on edge, nervous about meeting Leira Berens for the first time.

  He had heard stories about her: her pure light magic, the way she handled these “creatures”, doling out justice to whoever stood in the way. She was the woman to help them, but the negotiations left him uneasy.

  Senator Thatcher was a wizard, although others in the Senate didn’t know it. Meeting with Leira intrigued him. He had worked undercover with Charlie Monaghan, had watched as the man slowly gave in to the dark mist that searched him out. At the time he had no idea what was happening; not until he witnessed Charlie’s black eyes and distant glare. That was the last time he ever saw Monaghan, but that didn’t keep his company, Axiom, from surging into the future of magic, causing problems all over the place.

  Charlie was easily replaced and forgotten.

  Sparks of silver and light appeared at the head of the table and the two men rose from their chairs, watching as a portal opened. Leira stepped through and clapped her hands, and the portal snapped shut while Yumfuck waved goodbye in the background. Leira looked up at the two gentlemen and nodded, as she took the nearest chair. Symbols glowed up and down her arms as the magic began to dissipate and her skin faded back to its usual paleness.

  “Gentleman.” Leira nodded as the two sat down.

  “Leira, thank you for coming,” Thatcher said. “This is—”

  “Senator Brownwood,” Leira finished his sentence. “Nice to meet you. What can I do for you gentleman?”

  Thatcher cleared his throat and handed Brownwood a piece of paper.

  “I guess we will dive right in,” Thatcher replied. “You have been in DC for what…about a year now?”

  Leira nodded her head.

  “Things haven’t changed much since then.” Thatcher noticed the irritation moving across Leira’s forehead. “Not that I am holding you accountable, of course. I am just saying that the dark families are still out there, expanding their reach and separating into larger groups. They are still hunting artifacts, as are Axiom and the government. There is a larger showing of magic on Earth these days, and I would say thirty percent of it is reading as dark.”

  “The humans, or I mean to say ‘we,’” Brownwood stuttered, wiping his forehead with his handkerchief, “we are not used to it or how it’s being used. There is too much too soon, without any explanations. Mix that with the dark magic, and things are starting to spiral out of control. Has your government, or our government, I should say, revealed any plans for handling the predicament? ?”

  “I work on my own.” Leira gave them a hard, blank look which didn’t give away anything. “I still work from time to time with the government, but I am not privy to all of their plans anymore. That being said, I have some thoughts on the situation.”

  Leira formed a small orb and the two men watched as it wrapped itself around the pitcher of water and filled her glass. There was no reason for her to use magic to do it, but she kind of enjoyed the twitch of Brownwood’s mouth. She took a sip and set the glass down on the table.

  “Like the humans, I believe there needs to be a system of justice for the magical folks—rules of how we can and cannot use our magic. It will allow magic to be seen and edge the humans into the reality of it all without causing complete chaos.”

  “And would you be willing to start that project for us?” Thatcher stared at her. “We can provide you the tools and the ability.”

  “I work for myself,” she reminded Thatcher. “But I suppose for the right money and...”

  “Money.” Brownwood chuckled. “Our budget is stretched thin as it is. I thought, being the savior of sorts, you would work for more...altruistic reasons.”

  Leira smiled politely and took another sip of her water, keeping the irritation low in her belly.

  “I work for myself, not for free. I’m not a volunteer, and I’m nobody’s savior. I will work for both sides—for my planet and for theirs—to make this transition as smooth as possible.”

  “Once a cop, always a cop.”

  Leira shrugged. “Something like that. Dark magic isn’t going away anytime soon, but there are plenty of others who can handle that task if needs be. I’m sure you could find a volunteer out there somewhere.”

  Senator Thatcher cleared his throat, holding back a smirk. Leira Berens was a force to be reckoned with, and now that she was on her own he would have to learn to negotiate with her. He knew her just like he knew Monaghan, but the difference between them was that Leira’s goal was to save the worlds, not destroy them for her own ends.

  “I think what the Senator is trying to say is we will have to do some research on a budget.” Thatcher pulled out another sheet of paper and handed it to Brownwood. “One of the more pressing issues I would like to speak to you about is the shifter problem.”

  “Problem?” Leira interrupted. “The werewolves, or shifters, are no more of a problem than you make them. They used to be your constituents. Fuck, they still are.”

  “I see you have your own thoughts on the shifters.” Thatcher sat back in his chair.

  “They’re trying to find their place in a world surrounded by magical beings and humans who fear them because they don’t understand them,” Leira told him. “I have lived on Earth my whole life, but I’ve seen the Oriceran people have just as big a problem accepting what they don’t understand as humans have.”

  Leira’s anger and bitterness built up in her chest and she clenched her fists, feeling the bracelet on her wrist heating up in an attempt to ground the energy moving through her. She was a Jasper Elf—one of the most misunderstood beings on either planet. There weren’t many of them left, and the ones who were left stayed in hiding.

  Oricerans, just like humans, struggled to make peace with beings they feared, even if their fears had no basis.

  Thatcher smiled tightly. “I appreciate your enlightened view of the shifters, and to a certain extent, you are right. The people of Oriceran do have that commonality with the humans on Earth. Still, that does not solve the problem we are having with the shifters here and now.”

  “I don’t have a problem.” Leira pushed the anger down again. “You have a problem.”

  “There have been fights—deaths even—involving the shifters, magical beings, government officials, and even dark wizards,” Brownwood stated. “Lucius is at the forefront, leading these shifters as some sort of alpha wolf.”
/>   “I’m not sure why you can’t see where this is coming from.” Leira banged her fist on the table. “The government is causing Lucius to escalate. He was the victim of Rhazdon’s magic over eight hundred years ago on Oriceran, and was sentenced to hell for most of the intervening time. His dark magic is gone now and he’s left trying to find his pack just like the rest of us, human and non-human alike. The government’s incessant meddling and hounding have pushed Lucius to work in the shadows, just like the dark families. You are asking me to solve a problem you created.”

  The room went silent. The symbols moving on her arms let Thatcher know she was passionate about the subject. Brownwood wiggled in his chair, uncomfortable with the tone of the meeting. Leira Berens was not an Elf to be trifled with, and after all this time he was still nervous around magical people. He even suspected Thatcher. There was more to his story…

  After several moments Thatcher sat up straight and put his hands together.

  Thatcher sighed. “I can that see this conversation has reached a wall. Thank you for meeting with us, Ms. Berens. We will discuss the issue further, and if we decide to contract for your assistance we will reach out.”

  Leira gave Thatcher her famous dead-fish look, knowing damn well no one was going to contact her. She had her own thoughts on Lucius—ones that were shared by those who really understood what was going on. It was obvious to her that, magical or not, Thatcher and the rest of the government saw things from a different perspective.

  They wanted the shifters dead and buried.

  “Just remember, I don’t work for free. Thank you, gentleman. You know how to reach me.”

  Thatcher nodded. “We do.”

  Leira stood behind the chair and pulled energy up her arms, twisting it into an orb and stretching open a portal. Her living room was visible through it, and Brownwood tilted his head to the side when he saw a three-foot-tall furry creature jumping up and down on the couch, holding a bucket of cheese puffs that were spilling everywhere.

  “Spin the wheel,” Yumfuck yelled, looking at the portal. “Oh! Hello, motherfuckers!” Leira shook her head and climbed through the portal.

  Brownwood wiped his forehead, still staring at the empty space. He turned to face Thatcher who was texting something on his phone.

  “What was that?” Brownwood asked, still confused about Yumfuck.

  “The troll? Nothing harmful, if you don’t get it angry.” Thatcher kept staring down at his phone.

  Thatcher sat back and took a bite of the salami sandwich he’d ordered for lunch. The two men were pondering the bigger picture—how to get their way.

  The meeting with Leira had ended in a stalemate, which hadn’t surprised Thatcher at all. He had heard about her separation from both the government and Turner Underwood, and her declaration that she was going to handle situations independently. He hadn’t expected her to have that kind of view on the shifters, but it wasn’t shocking.

  “So, we are in agreement that we don’t need Leira Berens.” Brownwood wrote himself a note with a trembling hand.

  Thatcher smiled at the man. “You know about me, don’t you?”

  Brownwood looked up, his lips pressed together. “I suspect.”

  Thatcher took another bite and chewed slowly. “You are a braver man than I realized.”

  “Not the first time I’ve heard that, but it’s usually from my wife.”

  “I trust you will keep it to yourself. People aren’t ready yet to hear that one of their trusted leaders wields a wand.”

  “It explains how you got that bill passed.”

  Thatcher let out a deep, throaty laugh. “That was a combination of old-fashioned bargaining and a little mood enhancing.”

  Brownwood put his trembling hand in his lap and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Just leave me out of it.” He held up his hand. “I’ll keep it to myself but if I figured it out… Too bad we couldn’t convince Berens to work with us.”

  “I believe we have reached the understanding that Berens will not be part of this.”

  “It is what it is.” Brownwood finished writing and tapped the papers together on the table. “It’s back to the office. I have a flight to catch. Are you headed back to Ohio?”

  “I have a memorial to attend first,” Thatcher told him, finishing his sandwich.

  “Oh, yes. Charlie Monaghan, poor guy.” Brownwood shook his head. “Axiom’s CEO. It’s a shame he just disappeared like that. Are there any leads on the whereabouts of his remains?”

  “None.” Thatcher stood up and adjusted his pants. “Not a whisper. One day he was there and the next... Well, poof.”

  “He wasn’t one of your people, was he?”

  “No…” Thatcher frowned.

  “That’s a shame. Hopefully they’ll get some leads.” Brownwood stood and held out a hand toward Thatcher. “I’m sure you will be in touch.”

  “Of course.” The men shook hands and Brownwood left the office. Thatcher gathered his things but stopped, raising his head as he felt the familiar energy of his driver.

  “Is everything ready?”

  “Yes, sir,” the driver told him. “I couldn’t help but overhear you talking about Mr. Monaghan’s memorial. It isn’t for another a week, sir.”

  “Yes,” Thatcher agreed. “But I have some other business to attend to and I don’t want to give Brownwood any more information on things magical. The man is already spooked just by sitting next to me.”

  Leira twisted her hand and the few remaining cheese puffs went right back into the container next to Yumfuck. “You feeling all right? Not like you to leave any.”

  The troll leaned his head back and cackled.

  Leira tossed her purse onto the couch and sat back in her grandmother’s old red velvet recliner, resting her head against the back. Yumfuck trilled, jumped off the couch, and climbed into her lap.

  “I like this three-foot-tall thing.” Leira smiled. “It’s like having a really smart toddler in the house.”

  “Meeting go badly?” There was orange dust clinging to his fur.

  “Don’t think I’ll be getting that job,” she admitted. “They’re scared of the things they can’t explain and control, but their old-fashioned ideas aren’t going to cut it anymore. I can’t believe I’m disagreeing with an entire government. Sometimes I miss chasing felons down dark alleys.”

  “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown,” Yumfuck chirped.

  “Wow…” Leira opened her eyes and looked down at the tuft of green hair on the top of his head. “That is very insightful. Did you make that up?”

  “Nah.” He smiled. “H.P. Lovecraft. He was a wizard too.”

  “Getting into reading now? That’s definitely a change from The Price is Right.”

  “The internet.” Yumfuck cackled again. “Also found out how to make a Cheeto souffle.”

  “That sounds...interesting.” Leira patted him on the head. “Just make sure a person is with you when you start cooking. Don’t want to explain to the fire department why I let my furry nephew use the stove.”

  Yumfuck jumped off her lap and laughed, giving her a thumbs-up. He trotted toward the door, where he grabbed his backpack off the new coat rack. He pulled his mask out of the bag and looked back at Leira, puffing out his chest.

  “Break’s over.” His teeth were covered in Cheeto remains.

  Leira wrinkled her nose and smiled. “Might want to… Don’t lick it off… Okay, sure.”

  6

  Yumfuck put on his backpack and headed out, his dark-blue mask tied tightly around his face. He looked up and down the sidewalk and saw a neighbor digging in her flowerbed in front of the large brownstone three doors down. He reached up and took his mask off again, shoving it in his bookbag.

  “No time like the present,” he chirped, hopping playfully down the stairs and strolling down the sidewalk.

  He whistled a tune as he headed toward the ne
ighbor, an older woman in jeans and a t-shirt that read Sometimes I Wet My Plants was kneeling in the dirt at the edge of her flowerbed.

  Yumfuck edged up to her, ready to shrink if she screamed for help. She looked at Yumfuck’s feet, scanning upward to his big pointy-toothed grin. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and put her hands on her hips.

  “Well, look at you! You’re a troll, right?” She smiled, her silvery hair fluttering in the wind as she pulled out a magnolia-wood wand and waved it gently over the small plants, whispering an incantation. “You must be one of the new neighbors.”

  He stuck out a furry paw. “Yumfuck.”

  “Welcome to the neighborhood.” She took his paw and gave a gentle shake. “My name’s Lily. Born and raised in this world. My mother was from Oriceran. She lived near the Dark Forest in Virgo.” She looked at the troll slyly. “I’ve seen you on the internet. Haven’t had that good a laugh in a while. It’ll be nice having you close by. A reminder of another home, especially for my husband.”

  “What are you planting?” He peered over her shoulder.

  “Some new azalea bushes. I’ve lived here for thirty years, and the old ones died off during the last hard freeze.”

  “Azaleas…” Yumfuck tapped his chin. “You should try arie blooms from Oriceran. They last through all kinds of weather. They’re a favorite of trolls.”

  “Hard to get and harder to explain.” She sat back on her heels and brushed the dirt off her knees.

  An older man walked out of the house carrying a tray with a pitcher, two glasses, and a plate of cookies.

  “Lily, I brought you some...”

  He stopped and stared at Yumfuck in confusion. “Marvelous! I heard there was a troll in the neighborhood.”

  “A celebrity troll, George. You were right! It’s the rodeo-riding troll from the internet.” Lily took Yumfuck’s outstretched paw and got to her feet. “This is Yumfuck. He lives down the street now. This is George, my husband. He’s a wizard.” She held up her hand to the side of her face to whisper. “In fact, everyone in this building is a magical being of one kind or another. It’s our version of a retirement co-op—with an added twist.”