I’m not sure why I expected anyone in the capital to move with haste. These were the same pricks who took half a century to send real law enforcement out west.

  A half hour went by in our standoff. In that time, the whole plaza had been cleared out except for a perimeter of soldiers and other officers, with the ones from earlier directly across from me, rifles aimed.

  “I ain’t got all day, boys!” I hollered at the soldiers. Truthfully, by then, the sun was setting, just creeping over the crest of the Capitol Building’s dome.

  They’d promised they were sending for Chapelwaite, whose offices were in another district a few miles outside the capital itself. That made me feel good. It would’ve taken us a day and a half just to find that out—not to mention actually traveling there and locating him. Better to get the attention of the good marshal straightaway.

  “Only a few more minutes!” a soldier promised, promptly followed by some more pathetic pleading from my captives. By now, I’d named all of them just to keep them straight in my head. None of that mattered.

  The dome fully eclipsed the sun, casting us in a shadow like somewhere between twilight and the dead of night. Still, those streetlamps behind me kept our vision perfectly clear.

  “Hey, stay back!” the youngest soldier warned, voice cracking.

  “It’s just a cat, you idiot,” spoke another.

  I looked that way and saw the pesky intruder. A ratty-looking stray with fur as black as pitch went puttering across the plaza. Half its tail was gone with a bit of bone sticking out, like it’d rotted and fallen off.

  It didn’t seem in any sort of rush as it sauntered right between me and the soldiers. Once it was there, it turned to me and let out a shrill meow. Both the poor thing’s eyes were missing, which could explain how the critter found itself in this predicament. Finicky things, felines. Usually stay away from crowds when food’s not around to be scavenged.

  My attempts to shoo it away failed. In fact, it had the opposite effect. It ambled over and started rubbing against my leg, purring. Not sure why, but that really terrified my captives. Black cats get a bad rap in the normal world and in mine. It’s not that witches and the like need them; they just have similar temperaments to keep as pets.

  “Get out of here!” I shook my foot. “Go on. Get!”

  It just kept mewing and purring, that is, until the sound of a carriage door slamming made it squeal and sprint off. Turning my attention, I watched on the western end of the plaza as a few soldiers parted.

  “Time’s been good to you, my friend!” I called out to the familiar face entering the courtyard.

  Chapelwaite had traded his field uniform for the finery of a desk worker, wearing a tailored suit and a top hat. Everything was perfectly creased and without a wrinkle.

  “It’s been cruel to you,” he called back.

  He’d always been the type that had ice in his beard and blood on his teeth. Now, he looked like a proper gentleman.

  “Put on your best bib-and-tucker for this, haven’t you?” I asked, and it was true.

  His shiny shoes clacked along the stonework. Outstretched palms informed the soldiers to keep their distance and leave things to him. They obediently obliged, which spoke well of his newfound importance. Apparently, solving the murder of a senator in Crescent City can do that for a career.

  Chapelwaite stopped a few feet away, hands clenched behind his back. He appeared unarmed, but looks can be deceiving, especially for the lead disciple of Judas Iscariot. I bet the old vampire would be proud, wherever he was now, seeing one of his faithful servants in such a position of power.

  “James Crowley,” he said, though he didn’t seem surprised by the revelation. More like he expected me. “You could fall into a barrel of tits and still come out sucking your thumb. Have you lost your goddamn mind?”

  “Just had to get your attention,” I said with a shrug. “Seemed the fastest way.”

  “You happy now?”

  “I learned early on, you never call a man happy unless he’s dead.”

  He smiled a knowing smile. “I suppose I shouldn’t expect a miscreant like you to ask around politely.”

  “Time ain’t on my side.”

  “On the contrary. Time is the only thing on your side, Black Badge.” Chapelwaite lowered his voice upon speaking my title, as if my hostages had a clue what that meant. A strange thing I’m sure, to be stuck between two worlds like he was and still know where one ended and the other began. A public figure of authority, an agent of the shadows.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Do you even know who they are?” He gestured to my captives.

  I shook my head. “Not a clue.”

  “Me either. They’re no one of import. Pages or aides, I couldn’t say.”

  I grimaced.

  “Does that matter?” he asked, a condescending look on his face. “I suppose where you’re from, their lives would be meaningless, and the law would start shooting. Here in the nation’s capital, every life is equally valued.”

  It was upsetting, seeing the man like this. Owned by Ace Ryker. Some men fall from grace; others are pushed.

  “Oh, quit your posturing,” I said. “I know what you are and you know what I am.”

  He scowled. “What do you want?”

  “To talk.”

  “They won’t interrupt,” he said. “I swear it on the savior’s wounds.” Again with that smug smile.

  “It ain’t for their ears.”

  “Well, then I’m going to ask for you to release those innocent men and come with me.”

  I shook my head. “I know what happens the second I do.”

  Chapelwaite exhaled through his teeth. “As you said, I know what you are. They won’t shoot, but I can’t let you just walk away from this. I’ll be placing you under arrest. We can either do it easy or make a show of it.”

  “Right. Gotta keep up your appearance to please the big guy.”

  “I may have needed your help out west, but this is my world, Crowley. Make it simple, and we won’t have a problem.”

  “The way I see it, we already do. You sicced your boys after me on Ace’s behalf. What’d he do to you?”

  The marshal’s brow furrowed. “Who?”

  “Ace Ryker. He’s like me, only a hell of a lot worse.”

  “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  We weren’t strangers, me and Chapelwaite. Not longtime pals, but we’d fought together in Crescent City, and there’s no better way to get to know somebody than side-by-side in a gunfight. If he was lying, he was a damn good actor.

  “Then we’ve really got to talk,” I said.

  “Surrender and we will,” he offered.

  My eyes flittered around the plaza. Somewhere out there, Rosa was watching. If this was all a ruse, Chapelwaite would make a mistake he wouldn’t live to regret. My gaze stopped upon the ugly black cat up in the branches of a tree, carelessly licking its paw.

  “Deal.”

  Holstering my Peacemaker, I let my lasso fall in a loose circle around the hostages. They fled for their lives as Chapelwaite quickly rushed in and made a show of it, as promised. He unhooked my belt, confiscating my pistols.

  “How’s about you give me that black snake of yours,” he said, pointing to my lasso.

  “This really necessary?” I asked.

  He nodded. “It is.”

  Then, he wrenched my arms behind my back and tied my wrists with my own lasso.

  I feigned it hurting as he shoved me back toward his black carriage, plenty of guns still aimed at me in case I tried anything. A few soldiers hurried by to attend to the captives. I hadn’t even hurt them. Bunch of soft bellies.

  Chapelwaite was anything but gentle when he thrust me into the carriage. Two marshals on horseback were set to pull us along; another waited inside.

  “Leave us,” Chapelwaite ordered.

  “Sir?”

  “I said get out.”

  The officer remained confused but followed orders without complaint. There was something nice about a place where formal rank and hierarchy actually mattered.

  “Got them trained like dogs,” I said.

  Chapelwaite waited until the carriage started moving before he spoke. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

  “You can untie me now,” I said, kicking my feet up across the bench. He shoved them back to the floor.

  “This isn’t a game, Crowley.”

  I set my eyes on him, and I knew the threat that burned in them. “Trust me, I ain’t playing.”

  “Men have been hung for less.”

  “Then string me from a fucking tree,” I spat. “We can talk as I dangle.”

  His head fell back against the carriage wall as he sighed. “Oh, how I’ve not missed your charms.”

  I laughed. “Don’t let this haughty station go to your head. Admit it, we had fun.”

  “Loads.”

  “Now.” I put my muddy boots back up. “Let’s get to it.”

  “Not here. My office.”

  I looked from side to side at the stark wooden walls of the carriage. “This ain’t private enough?”

  “This is the capital. There are eyes and ears everywhere.”

  I nodded. What else could I do? This was his domain, and every second that passed, I was reminded more and more that I didn’t belong. Closed carriages out west were a thing of stature, to be shown off and embellished. This thing had the character of a stump. Utilitarian through and through.

  We rolled along on a remarkably smooth road, courtesy of better-paved streets than I’d ever known. Chapelwaite stared blankly through the small window in the door. He seemed different. Might be the weight of his new office crushing down on him, or maybe, he just missed the shadow of his master.

  “Hard work, taking over the West?” I asked.

  He blinked. “Huh?”

  “The feds have been busy, carving up territory. I just hope you people remember why we’re out there in the first place.”

  “And why is that?”

  I shrugged. “To not be here, I reckon. The shit I’ve been through since we last saw each other. Whew, only on the frontier, I’ll tell you that.”

  “I have seen the past through His eyes. More than you could imagine. Where you’re from is not special, Crowley. We all dress for different parts, but humanity remains the same.”

  “You say that like you aren’t one—a human.”

  The carriage shuddered and came to a sudden stop. Horses cried out.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Stay here. I’ll check.”

  I motioned to the ropes that still bound my hands. “Kinda hard not to.”

  But he was already throwing open the carriage door and sticking his head out. We were someplace dark, between tall buildings maybe. Then, with one foot out the door, he turned to me with a dour expression. “It’s not personal, Crowley. I simply live to serve.”

  What came next happened so fast, I didn’t have time to register a damn thing. It wasn’t that I hadn’t expected a trap. With clandestine servants of an ancient vampire, you can never be too careful. No. It was the style with which the trap was sprung.

  First came a familiar itching beyond the scar on my chest—the sign of a Nephilim being nearby. A second later, Chapelwaite dropped to the street, and the carriage began to crunch inward from the sides. My own exit was blocked by some sort of squirming tendrils, and with my hands tied behind my back, I couldn’t do much. That rope was thick, meant to hold down demons and worse, even without Heaven’s judgment.

  Wood and metal screeched and wrenched as the carriage roof was ripped clear off. What appeared to be a mess of giant octopus tentacles slithered through, suction cups popping against my skin as they restricted my neck and face. If they were around my body too, I couldn’t feel them.

  Next thing I knew, it plucked me out of the carriage and dragged me upward into the starry night sky.

  Well, shit.