Home Base - Part Fourteen

or how the other half lives.

Previously on - After a brief firefight, Helen ended up getting shot. They swapped their police car for something a little less conspicuous and headed to her place to get patched up.

"Thanks." She glared at me. "I noticed."

"Stay alert. I need you for a few minutes. Talk to me more about what's been going on. Why would Federal Agents or gang bangers be after us?"

"That's a great question. My brother couldn't have gotten mixed up in..." She grunted. "Actually, knowing him he probably did get mixed up in something without realizing it."

"What did he do for a job?"

"He picked up odd jobs where he could. He helped people find lost things. He had a little business removing curses and that kind of thing." Her face was sour. "When that didn't pay the weed bill and he didn't want to come to me he'd work on the docks or as a day laborer at construction sites. Those jobs were few and far between. He wasn't that good at heavy lifting."

"Could he have seen something or heard something?"

She nodded. "Very easily. Take this exit and hang a left." She steadied herself as I made the turns. "He was one of those people that faded easily into the background. That earned him money here and there."

"Blackmail?"

She shrugged. "I suppose. That would be good motive. He usually only did that sort of thing to people who 'deserved it' in his mind. He hadn't come to me lately about anything though and he almost always did. He wanted me to know, just in case he got in over his head."

We rode in silence for a few minutes, her only words were used to direct me. I mulled over what she'd told me. It broadened rather than narrowed the scope. I hoped that we would find something helpful at his house. I remembered the shape it was in and doubted that. Soon we were parked in front of an apartment complex.

"I'm on the third floor."

As I moved around to her side of the care I could see how pale she'd gotten. I took her in my arms before she could fall. She didn't object. I carried her up the three flights of stairs. The smell of cigarette smoke mixed with cheap liquor in the stairwell. If there was a distillation of human despair I thought it would smell much the same.

"Three oh six." She fumbled the keys from her pocket.

I took them and managed to open her door without dropping her on her head. The difference between her place and her brother's couldn't have been more stark. I recognized the decorations and furniture as having an Asian influence. It was all very sparse but managed to look comfortable. I put her on her feet and leaned her against a wall. "Don't move and don't faint." A quick search led to some towels. I draped them over her couch and got her situated.

"I'm going to look at your wound." I raised her shirt and ran my fingers over her pale flesh.

She hissed through her teeth at the contact. "Focus on where I'm hurt."

I smiled at her. "Of course." I moved the bandages that were now stained with her blood. It was as she'd said, the wound went all the way through. I placed my hand over it and hissed a few words in my native tongue. I couldn't heal it, but I could make the pain subside.

She moaned slightly, but not from discomfort. "Nice."

I left her there and did another search. Finding what I needed proved easy. She was one of those humans who believed in order to an almost unhealthy degree. I revised my opinion on how good of a Fae she'd be. Still, it helped when it came to getting what I needed to help her. Time spent on too many battlefields meant I'd seen and done my share of sewing flesh. The needles and thread she had were perfect for the chore. There were salves and ointments I didn't recognize, but I used them. I pushed her further into a state of bliss and took off most of her clothes. Her need for order extended to making sure that her undergarments matched perfectly. The scars that she carried told me that she'd been sewn up more than a few times. They were all old.

"You had a rough childhood, my dear." I left her on the couch, mostly naked and covered by a throw. I poured myself a glass of wine and proceeded to search her bedroom. The change of clothes I picked out went on her bed. In addition, I found another pistol - this one a match to her service piece - a shotgun, a much smaller automatic, and a collection of knives and metal clubs. I made a note not to get into a fight with her.

Her room told me a lot about her. The book selection indicated a dedication not only to her work but to science in general. She had books that actively denied the presence of anything supernatural. She possessed a few sex toys that spoke to a more solitary life. They were all cleaned and in order, within easy reach of her bed. They all smelled only of her. I made sure to replace them all where I had found them. She had a picture of her and her brother from their childhood. That was the only thing in the apartment that approached art. Finally, she had what my new knowledge told me was a state of the art laptop and a few other gadgets used for eavesdropping.

Done taking inventory I returned to her living room and dressed her in the black yoga pants and sweatshirt I'd chosen. I drank wine until she awoke, managing to finish an entire bottle in the interim. It was not up to my standards, but for human wine it wasn't too bad.

When Helen awoke it was with a start. I was glad that I had chosen to watch her from across the room. The expletives that filled the air were creative to say the least and this coming from someone who's fluent in many human and Fae languages, primarily in cursing.

"You're safe." I tried to soothe her from a safe distance.

Are you a paid user? No? If you were, you’d see a free ebook offer below.