Courting Trouble (Chapter 9) (Patreon)

         Index
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7  
Chapter 8 

Chapter 9

I ushered Nemue out the front door of my building and looked around. My instincts twigged to something and my eyes brushed up and down the street. “Wait,” I murmured, “something’s wrong.”

I felt Nemue stiffen beside me, and her voice came back strained, strangled in her throat. “They’re here.” She took half a step back, recoiling from something I hadn’t noticed. I slowly followed her gaze over the sidewalk and through the traffic to the other side of the street.

They were there alright; six figures, with long coats and hoods pulled up over their heads. I couldn’t see their faces, save for a hint of pale chin and throat, but their too long arms and legs told me everything I needed. The fact pedestrians absent-mindedly moved around them with barely a flick of their eyes only cemented the fact. “Shit,” I whispered, “they’re elves. How did they get here so fast?”

I urged Nemue, tugging her arm. “Move.” She didn’t, seemingly petrified. I saw their heads track up to the two of us and a flit of panic stirred in my belly, like live eels trying to worm their way free of my innards. Maybe it was the fear but my next words came out hard and sharp. “Goddamnit, move!”

A large moving truck passed between us on the road and I started to shift, ready to drag my client by the arm if needed. The truck passed and a jolt of adrenaline hit my system as the group had already half crossed the street in just a scant second.

This must have brought Nemue to her senses, because a moment later I heard the scuff of her feet on pavement. I didn’t have time to think. I tore after her, my legs pumping as fast as they could as I ran down the street.

It was in that chase that I saw the full measure of Nemue’s grace. While I ran pell mell through the crowd on the sidewalk, bumping arms and pushing people out of my way, the elf flowed around people like water. Her feet barely hit the concrete and she looked like a doe in mid run. My rational brain asserted itself a heartbeat later.

“If she can move like that,” I thought, “then…” I shot a glance over my shoulder and saw our pursuers moving just as fast, just as unphased by the sea of people as my client. They were closing and I fought to keep the adrenaline from clouding my judgement. I forced my brain to consider my options. There weren’t many and the one that came readily to mind was not a good one. Beggars can’t be choosers.

I whipped my pistol out of its holster and pointed it straight up. I squeezed the trigger three times, three cracks of thunder answering in kind. The response was instant, the crowd turned to chaos; several people screamed and nearly everyone began to flee in every direction. Some even fell into the street and there was the screech of rubber on asphalt, followed by the cacophony of buckling plastic, bending steel and shattering glass as a car swerved into a parked mini-van.

I whipped my head back around and saw the elves suddenly fighting against the current of panicked people attempting to get away from the gunshots. I put on more speed, attempting to put as much distance between myself and them as possible. Up ahead, I saw Nemue juke into a break between two tall tenement buildings.

Several seconds later I was down the same alley; Nemue was already approaching the end. A thought in the back of my head marveled at how quickly she moved but was immediately cut short as something dark, blurry and as fast as a caffeinated cheetah slammed into the her as she made it to where alleys intersected. I sprinted with every bit of speed I could muster, attempting to clear the distance and by the time I reached her the struggle was coming to an end.

Nemue was bleeding, badly. From her nose and mouth it bubbled up with each breath, creating a grotesque peel of scarlet over her chin and cheeks. Her hoodie was soaking through as well, several gashes  in the material. Straddling her was another elf, a stained knife in hand, their hood fallen away in the tumble. I registered several features that seemed irrelevant in the face of Nemue’s condition. While it was harder to tell, the slight shape of the jaw and chin made me think it was male, with long, reddish blonde hair, golden eyes and a lip pulled back into a smile. 

All that adrenaline in my veins suddenly turned cold. What was maybe a second stretched into an eternity as I looked at my client, a scared, innocent woman, who was brutalized half to death. And the it was smiling over it. A righteous, blinding fury turned my vision red and I whirled my pistol on him.

Before the muzzle was even halfway to him his fingers had closed on my wrist and forced the gun up and away. I felt steel on my throat as he pressed the knife to my jugular. “Shhh, human,” it murmured, quietly. His voice was deeper, masculine, confirming my suspicion. “This doesn’t concern you anymore. Walk away.”

“You sadistic sonofabitch!” I snarled through clenched teeth. 

“You’re just a human,” he answered, straightening up. His height was considerably greater than mine and the simple action forced me onto tip toe. The strain of it made his lips curl into a cat’s smile. “You can’t do anything.”

“I’ll make you regret what you did to her. Elf.” I wriggled a little, trying to keep my balance.

His smile disappeared. “I. Am. Sidhe,” he hissed, punctuating every word with a pause. “You would do well to respect that.” He tightened his grip on my wrist and it made me wince in pain. “Your gun is useless. I could kill you right now and nobody would care.”

I felt my jaw tighten and my eyes narrow. I felt my finger tighten within my coat, on something cold and metal. “That’s why I have a spare.” And I shot him in the knee with the revolver kept concealed in my pocket.

The elf recoiled as his leg buckled under him, his grip loosening and my wrist freeing itself from his fingers. He went down like a dead spider, his limbs curling inward, almost into a fetal position as he held his knee with both hands. His screams were the worst thing though; high pitched shrieks, like constantly shattering glass.

I turned to see his five companions suddenly break into the alley at the far end, some several dozen feet away. They probably detoured around the crowd in the same manner the first elf had when they couldn’t properly pursue us. It seemed likely that this elf was meant to act as a spear as the others flushed us to a place he could pounce, pack hunting. Not missing a beat I turned my revolver on them and began firing shots downrange, causing them to duck out of view.

Not sure how much time I could buy, I retreated to Nemue. I pulled her up by the hand and got her arm under me. “Nemue, I need you to move. Please,” I whispered.

I heard a shaking, whimpering breath but I felt her try to support herself. I saw movement at the end of the alley and fired again. I heard the metal ping as the shot struck a dumpster.

I shrugged my shoulder and felt my arm slide out of a sleeve. “Can you move? How bad is it?”

It took several seconds for her to response. I nearly missed it over two more shots I squeezed off. “-t hurts.”

I draped my coat over her like a blanket and pulled my other arm out of the sleeve. “Can you move?” I asked again, more insistently. I started to back away, half pulling Nemue, half shielding her with my body.

“Y-yes.” Nemue stammered. Her voice shook, as did the rest of her, and I tightened an arm around my client. I started sliding back toward the streets. There was a lack of movement at the end of the alley and, for a second I feared we were backing into another ambush, that our opponents had made their way to our rear.

I flicked my eyes down to the still screaming, rocking elf who had assailed my client. Hopefully our hunters would be more inclined to recover him than continue the chase. I hoped that his presence would prevent guns from being used on their part.

As it turned out, it did not. The alleyway suddenly exploded into a hail of bullets. Either because they saw their prey escaping or the general seclusion of the area they had brought their weapons to bear. In that moment the alley was filled with the rapid chattering of a pair of small, automatic weapons.

I felt something hot clip my left bicep, as if accidentally brushing a hot wire or pipe, and flinched just as I heard something whizz by my ear. The sudden movement perhaps saved our lives, as we lost balance and stumbled into the alley wall, behind several pallets and crates, which were immediately assaulted by more gunfire. I don’t know what was inside but whatever packed the boxed was enough to catch and stop the bullets. Splinters flew up from our impromptu cover for several seconds before everything went silent.

“We need to go. Now. Either they’re reloading or they’re coming for us.” I began to move, clenching my teeth against the pain in my arm. “Or both.”

A couple seconds later we were on the sidewalk. I had no plan beyond getting to this point but luck proved as fickle as always and provided us a way. Several feet ahead the concrete parted around a set of stair descending into the ground, flanked by metal fencing. “Into the subway,” I panted, straightening up.

The stairs were particularly treacherous but the threat of being caught added speed to our movement. We half fell down the last several steps and I practically dragged the quivering elf to the mechanical gates. Normally I didn’t use the subway system, but I still had a metro card in times of emergency.

We practically bowl over a man ahead of us. “Hey!” He snapped as I pushed him aside as best I could. I ignored him, fishing in my trench coat and quickly drew out my wallet. I fumbled with the clasp and cursed. My fingers felt two sizes larger than what I was used to, shaking uncontrollably.

Again, the man said something but I was too busy prying open my wallet to pay attention, though I noted the distinct annoyed tone in his voice. I selected my metro card and pressed it against the scanner.

The machine beeped and then a red light flicked on. I stared dumbly at it for a moment. I swiped the card a second time and again a red light signaled its refusal to comply. “Come on!” I shrieked, feeling the words tear at my throat.

I hopped the railing, almost falling on my face as my foot caught on something. I turned and started pulling Nemue over, both of us struggling to overcome her injuries. Looking up, I saw shadows play against the stairs and my heart sunk.

“Hey! You can’t do that!” the man started. He grabbed onto Nemue’s shoulder and my stomach twisted.

“Oh my god, here!” I half shouted at him, throwing a handful of bills at him blindly, the rest of Nemue’s retainer. He was so surprised by the faceful of money that he stepped back and released the elf’s shoulder. One last heave from the both of us and she made it over. Through the entire ordeal, he never seemed to notice that Nemue was injured or, in fact, not even human.

Miraculously, there was a train at the platform. The next few feet yawned out before us like a football field and the seconds seemed to slow down. It was off hours and there was an empty car. I pulled my client in hobbling movements, Nimue panting and whimpering in pain.

Behind us, I heard the obstructive man shout again “What the hell!?” My mind imagined the worst, that all five remaining elves had just vaulted the gates and were closing the distance. Expecting to be dragged back at any second or to be shot in the back, I kept moving. As we crossed the sliding doors, I spun, Nemue in front of me, practically draped over my shoulder despite our size difference, my revolver’s barrel peeking out from under the trench coat pulled over her back.

Two elves were staring at me from within their hoods, frozen in place. They were about six long steps from the car and their heads were pointed down at the gun, half hidden from view. One even had a hand halfway into their coat, looking as if they were almost able to draw a weapon. “I have two shots left.” I growled, trying to ignore how the gun was shaking in my hand. “Even if I miss one of you, that still means I shoot the other. Are either of you willing to bet on a fifty-fifty chance of taking a bullet?”

I saw them exchange subtle looks, their hoods shifting slightly, an unspoken conversation being held. I felt my heart hammering in my chest, causing my arm to pulse dully where I sustained injury. My knees felt like they were going to buckle under both stress and Nemue’s weight. If they decided to charge, I don’t even know if I could pull the trigger in time, let alone hit one of them.

Approximately one eternity later, they stepped back deliberately. They stood there, staring at me, and under one’s hood I could see the shadow of teeth bared in a snarl. The doors slid shut and I finally exhaled, practically dropping Nemue into a seat and collapsing against a pole.

The subway started to move, and outside, on the platform, I saw the two elves track us, their heads turning almost in unison. It was unnerving, to say the least.

At the last moment, the last glimpse I could manage of them, I saw one of them pull out a cellphone and lift it into their hood. Hopefully, the train would make it to the next stop before whatever reinforcements they were calling in.

Because if it didn’t, we wouldn’t even stand a snowball’s chance in hell.