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As the demon nears, he dips his head toward us in greeting. “Afternoon, Bone Guard.”
The evening after our victory over the Bone Man, Pen and I had sat down with Nickodemus and his newly formed council to discuss the reformation of the Bone Yard. From that meeting, the Bone Guard was formed, and Mayn had been second in line to sign her name in blood on the contract.
O’Hara, Troy, Johannsson, and Webb all join, too, along with many of my former subordinates.
Mayn admires the demon’s suit. “Is that a Fumantis exclusive?”
The man preens. “It is, indeed. Fresh off the line.”
Darius had decided there was far too much paperwork involved in working for the Cleaners and took over one of the shops in the Grave Yard tointroduce quality fashionto the area.
He already has a team of imps jumping to his command who basically run the place, so he splits his time between cooking classes and hanging out in the lounge at the Harbor, where his network of spies brings him all the gossip of what’s happening in Clearhelm.
“Have a sweltering day.” Mayn waves her leg bone at the demon in farewell.
I eye the thing in disgust. “Stop taking bribes from the food vendors. It makes us look bad.”
“Bribes are part of demon politics.” She digs a finger into the center, searching for marrow. “I do wish it wasn’t cow, though.”
“Eating humans is against the law, even here,” I remind her.
“Shh.” She glances around. “Don’t let that get out, or Jehrstine will stop giving me free lunch.”
My partner has flourished in her new position. She no longer tries to hide her otherness, and her black hair, freed of its braid, floats around her in a tide of its own creation, occasionally drifting out to investigate the skulls of those who pass too close. A gun rides on one hip, and the scabbard of her sword on the other.
The sound of construction comes from up ahead. With the plans to turn the Bone Yard into a tourist trap tabled, the city council saw no reason to fix the damage done to the Bone Yard.
When my portion of the bounty for the Bone Man landed in my bank account, we launched a charity fundraiser to help the demons, and I donated the full amount.
The auction had spread like wildfire through the news media outlets, and Clearhelm’s citizens had flocked to the cause.
Contrary to Bailey’s expectation, few of the citizens of Clearhelm blame the Others for the Bone Man’s appearance.
In fact, they saw the attack as an affirmation that the Others are vulnerable, just like they are. It launched a fresh wave of support, with volunteers arriving every day to help rebuild what was destroyed.
The Bone Yard has become the newest fad in humanitarian work, much to its denizens’ amusement.
Humans’ capacity to adapt will never cease to amaze me.
“Bring that load of bricks over here!” Marc calls out, directing the reconstruction of a building that had been destroyed when the roots erupted from the street.
A massive slag demon lifts the entire pallet, settles it on his shoulder, and lumbers over, gaining an admiring look from a few of this morning’s volunteers.
People flock to the Bone Yard for more than just humanitarian work, it would seem.
Marc catches me watching and crosses his arms over his chest. “If you have so much free time on your hands, you could help out!”
I tap the bone-shaped badge attached to my belt. “No can do. We’re on duty.”
He snorts out a laugh. “You’re as bad as Darius.”
I press a hand over my heart. “Hey, at least I don’t mind getting my hands dirty when the job requires it.”
Mayn nudges me. “You are being watched.”
Coming to alert, I follow her line of sight across the street to a pale woman who wears a ski cap, despite the humid temperature within the Bone Yard.
Her silver eyes catch mine, and she dips her pointed chin at me in greeting.
