Dim Sum Asylum(14)

One thing always led to another in Chinatown. Pulling a loose thread meant things unraveling to a shitstorm, and I never had an umbrella to take the brunt of the crap. My badge would clear away most of the shit I knew would hit us once we crawled into C-Town’s underground, but sometimes a flash of gold brought its own world of troubles, and glancing at the man sitting next to me, I realized I didn’t quite trust Inspector Leonard to have my back.

Still, my badge felt good. I’d never realized how much I’d miss its weight on my belt until IA took it from me. The gun I could give or take, but my badge—that was something different. It was as much a part of me as the three black stars on my wrist or the starburst on my shoulder blade, so it was damned good to have it on me again. Familiar. Comforting.

Unlike the looming presence of Inspector Leonard sitting in the passenger seat of our department-issued vehicle.

I didn’t know what was more unnerving, the half-suspicious odd looks I caught him giving me or the way he clutched at the door when I hit Chinatown’s busy streets. Both were annoying, but short of shooting yet another partner, I didn’t know what I could do to stop it. I didn’t have to wait long for something to change, because Leonard cleared his throat and tossed in a bit of chaos he’d been cooking up while I drove.

“There were rumors someone might pull you as a partner, so I read up on you. I mean, once I found out there was an opening in Arcane.” He hadn’t said much before then. A few grunts and a nice to meet you or two, so I was surprised by his honey-smooth tones. With his mass, I guess I’d been expecting something more guttural. “You’ve got a history of not following the rules. I will admit it made me pause, but everyone I talked to said you’re the best on the job.”

“Don’t know if I should be worried that you read up on me or that there’s actually stuff to read up on.” I could only imagine what he’d found asking around about me or even what he could have found. “What’s there to read? Can’t imagine my mother left a diary or something.”

“Reports mostly. And well, rumors,” he admitted. I eased into the next lane and rolled to a stop behind a delivery truck. I heard a darkness in his tone as he muttered, “A Hell of a lot of rumors. Some of them I don’t even want to ask you about, and some just plain scare me.”

“And you still wanted the job?” I whistled under my breath. “Brave man. Let’s have them.”

“Have what?”

“The rumors.” I’ll admit to a curiosity deep enough to rival any cat or dragon. “Beyond me shooting Arnett. You know that’s the truth. What about the rest?”

“He’s not the only one you’ve shot.” I hadn’t needed that little reminder, and his jaw firmed up when I eyed him from across the car. “Mostly that you’re a very human-looking splice and the department’s—”

“I’m not a splice. Natural born. It happens.” It was a common misperception. No matter how many times I corrected Arnett, he seemed to be stuck on that sorry refrain. “And even if I were, what difference would it make? Any splice made before the Demarcation Act is a legal citizen, and any found to be created after that point is immune from prosecution. Life is life, Leonard.”

It was an old soapbox. One I’d climbed up and down from time and time again. When Child Protective Services found Tara and Kristine in a back-alley lab, they’d contacted John to help with placement. He hadn’t planned on falling in love with them, and suddenly I found myself with two little girls who actually looked like they were mine. They’d only been mine a year before stupidity took them—and John—from me, but I was still willing to do battle for their right to live even as their ashes were scattered alongside John’s in my fae clan’s mourning pool.

My wrist itched, and I scratched at the three stars inked black and deep under my skin.

“You asked for the rumors. That’s one.” He was right. Gossip both fascinated and engaged me, especially since so much of my work involved sniffing down rumors and innuendo. I blame my fae blood. As a species, we found something oddly comforting about a murmuring under the shadows. “That and your mother ate your father’s head off.”

“Wrong clan. My mother was Odonata. And the Mantoida haven’t done that kind of thing in centuries.” I sniffed in mock outrage. “And my father’s fine. I think. Last time I checked he was alive and singing lullabies to otters.”

“He’s also Ken Takahashi’s son.”

I could have almost driven onto the sidewalk. Probably would have if we hadn’t been at a dead stop behind two noodle trucks blocking the way as they made their deliveries. Keeping my hands on the wheel wasn’t hard. I was clenching it hard enough my knuckles were white, bony juts across the back of my fingers.

“Or is that a secret?” Leonard asked in his soft, golden honey voice.

“Not a secret,” I said carefully. “Just not something I talk about.”

“Is it a problem? Talking about it?” He was pushing, testing his boundaries in a way Arnett never had. But then Arnett was never supposed to be a permanent deal. My dragon-munched-on partner had just been a thorn everyone’d took turns stabbing into their side in the squad’s duty roulette. “’Cause I don’t care one way or another. We’ve all got our skeletons.”