Dim Sum Asylum(31)
“What the Hell are you talking about?” The cold was seeping through me. Across the street, a miso soup vendor was setting up his cart, and I wondered if I had enough money on me to pay him to let me shove my whole body into his stockpot. The faerie blood in me ran sluggish in the cold, and the human bits weren’t too fond of the bite in the wind either. “I don’t have a death wish. The fucking building ended. This case is—”
“This case is complicated, and I’m guessing it’s going to go pretty high-profile before long. Too many people are dying, and it’s got the mark of a serial killer on it—a magic-using serial killer.” Trent flicked up the collar of his peacoat, framing his jaw in dark wool. “I’m brand-spanking new, and you just got off suspension. Eyes are going to be on you… on me. I need to know what I’m in for with you, MacCormick, because if this is your normal, I’ve got better ways I want to die.”
“First off, technically I wasn’t on suspension. I was on administrative leave until IA cleared me of any wrongdoing. Which they did. I didn’t shoot Arnett because I was bored. He brought that down on himself because he got greedy and stupid. He put on a badge and made a promise to stand in front of people. That’s what the badge means, and he fucked that up. Not me.” I rounded on him, stabbing his way too solid chest with my finger.
He didn’t budge. Instead his face hardened into the expression I’d seen him wear when facing Gaines down. There was a fire in his eyes, muted but alive and more than willing to burn me if only he’d let loose. My common sense kicked in, reminding me Trent could probably snap my head off with a quick twist of his hands around my neck, but I wasn’t ready to be reasonable. If he was going to be protecting my ass while we went through doors, he needed to know he couldn’t be chewing on it while we were standing still.
He blinked before I did, and I continued, softening my tone, giving him room to save face, but I had to be firm. As much as I wanted to dump all of my frustration on him, I knew better. He didn’t deserve it, but Trent was going to have to learn I didn’t give a shit about what anyone was whispering behind my back or if they thought I was getting special favors. I worked the job because I’d earned the right to it, and the badge they’d pinned on me wasn’t just for decoration.
“Secondly, yeah, I get these kinds of cases, because I deliver. It may not always be pretty, and sometimes shit happens, but when it comes time to file the paperwork, there’s an arrest.” I narrowed my eyes and pushed in closer, feeling him out. “You think I care about whose eyes are on me? I don’t. I do the job.”
“It was a valid question, MacCormick. You’re working Arcane Crimes, not exactly the glamorous stuff, but you stick out, and people wonder about why you’re chasing down monsters and animated statues instead of climbing the golden ladder. With your connections, you should already be in a corner office someplace with your name in gold paint on the door.” He ducked his head when the awning gave a little, water trickling onto his shoulder. “Instead, you fuck up spectacularly, and the Powers That Be pat you on the head, then put you back onto the streets. It was all I heard about before I transferred in. So either you like working the shit jobs, or someone’s keeping you on because you’re a legacy and no one wants to blackball a martyred cop’s son.”
“Anyone saying that kind of shit about me can go fuck themselves. You included.” My retort was sharp enough to make him flinch. “I take as much shit from Gaines—Hell, from anyone up the chain of command—as anyone. What is wrong with Arcane Crimes? Some people would give their left nut to work the Asylum. You sure as shit did. And what the Hell is a legacy? Sounds like a goddamned trophy you get for showing up at school every day.”
“It’s more like you’re the golden boy who’s too chicken to work the big leagues—but getting rid of you would make the department look bad.” Trent held his hands up when I hissed my disgust. “You asked. I’m sharing. I wasn’t expecting to get you as a partner. I transferred in from… well, they put me in Central. Then this slot came up. I figured they’d move one of the other detectives in to be with you, and I’d be doing coffee runs for the squad room until someone trusted me enough to hand me a key to the bathroom. This is day two, and I’ve already seen more action and lost more sleep than most cops do in a month. I just need to know what to expect now. Working with you. I don’t have anything to base this on.”
“People get dead from magic too, Leonard, and worse,” I reminded him. “We deal with everything: murder, robbery, and everything in between. If you thought hooking up with Arcane Crimes was going to be a walk in the park, then you fucked yourself. We don’t have a rulebook down here in the Asylum. There’s no manual. There’s no time clock. You come in, you scrape back the scum off your coffee from the day before, and then it’s game on.
“If IA and the department were patting me on the head and letting me run loose out of what—some kind of loyalty to my mother?—I’d be sitting behind a desk over in Central’s glass tower and watching the ferries come in while some hot guy in pressed blues brought me donuts and the morning paper.” I flicked his collar down, smoothing it back into place. “And don’t do that. Makes you look like a pretentious asshole. Now, we’re going to go out into the damned rain and find out who shoved a damned wooden ball covered by horny raccoon dogs down a county supervisor’s throat.”