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This outburst is unprofessional. Maybe Justice is right. Maybe I do need to really look at myself and the way I comport myself among the monster people of the world. Maybe if I was just a little more formal, they might not be psychopathic creatures directly out of the nightmares of the common consciousness. Or maybe it doesn’t matter at all how I talk, because their agenda is darker and stranger than anybody can possibly imagine.
“Please,” Justice says. “Unless you want her company all night long?”
That’s enough to convince Order to set me free. He approaches me at what has to be an undignified angle for me, because everything about this situation is undignified for me. His spider crotch is quite close to my face for a moment. I catch a scent of something I don’t think I should be smelling. It smells like Tessie has been having a good time there. No. That can’t be possible. She wouldn’t dry hump a spider monster within minutes of being abducted. Tessie barely likes to talk to anybody, let alone rub on them.
“What have you been doing to my partner?”
Order chuckles under his breath but doesn’t deign to reply. He focuses instead on getting me down.
He does so by unsnapping the webbing from around me with palms that must be made of a special substance, because it doesn’t stick to him, or he to it. I guess it’s like you can’t taste yourself, or something.
When the last strand snaps, I’d have fallen onto my head but for the fact that Justice grabs me by the leg and prevents the top of my skull from cracking against the concrete.
“Lucky save,” I grin up at him.
“Lucky for you, perhaps, human. I am not so certain.” He continues to hold me by my ankle, much like the way a fisherman might hold a fish he’s thinking of throwing back.
“Listen. I found your brother.”
“And spooked him.”
“I doubt that. He seems like too much of an asshole to spook. Way too convinced he’s right about everything. I bet he doesn’t give a shit.”
“I need to be able to trust that you won’t try to put him in prison.”
“I am literally an officer of the law. I am definitely going to try to put him in prison.”
“We’ve had this discussion.”
“Yes. We have.”
“You know we have your partner. When you catch him, and I am sure you will because you are that kind of irritant, you will call me. I have a cell phone.”
“You didn’t want to give me your number last night? Or were you planning on us being more of a one-night flight sort of thing? You made me do the Uber of shame today. That wasn’t cool. I’m starting to think that being a selfish jerk might just run in whatever passes for your family.”
He reaches down with his lower left arm and hauls me up, letting the grip on my leg go so I swing around and end up back on my feet in front of him. I find myself rubbing my ass furiously, trying to get the sting out of it.
“You have got to stop that,” I tell him. “It’s causing a problem in our working relationship.”
“My brother will have been enraged by your actions today,” he says, casually. “He will likely take it out on someone innocent. Instead of asking for less of the punishment you deserve, why don’t you accompany me on the hunt.”
“Happy to. Let’s get this murderer off the streets, one way or another. And get Tessie back. He better not be doing anything to her she doesn’t want to have done to her. And Obigor, the continuation of the world as we know it hinges on the welfare of that dog. Do you understand me?”
“I understand you’re yapping when you should be hunting.”
Alright. Asshole. “I have an idea of where he might be. He likes the discount store signs. They’re red and obnoxiously bright. I’m guessing he would have had to go somewhere to remove the cuffs, and once he removed the cuffs, he’d be off to the nearest Red Light Discount to kill someone.
“So. Where would you go to get cuffs removed?”
“Hm.”
“Hmmm.”
“Huh.”
A lot of detecting is just standing around thinking. We don’t know where he went, and we may not know until a fucking body shows up. I’m thinking about where a guy with four arms might be able to get his cuffs hacked off right now, assuming he went and hid away from the light again.
“A factory,” I say. “Spinning blades. That’s what he needs. Or something sharp. Or blunt. Or hard.”
