Jazz: Monster Collector In: Ultimatums By The Bagful (Season 1 Episode 8) Read online

the nature spirits, when the wizard’s councils finds out they’ll smite you. And if the faerie find out you’ll wish you’d been smote.”

  “That may be true, but I don’t see you telling. I think what I see is you caring. Now, if you want to see her alive again, I suggest you start calling me, Boss.”

  I swallowed down some of my anger and the bile rising in my throat. I needed to calm down. Normally I was the all out queen of the poker face, but first DJ and now this. I didn’t like being played. I was about to boil over and that would only get both of them killed. I summoned up all my cool, relaxed my face, leaned back in the seat and un-cocked my gun. “So what? Go ahead; she’s a deferred species, not my concern.”

  “Really?” Geeter asked. “You sure?”

  I didn’t move a muscle.

  “OK. Mickey, tell the boys to squash her.”

  Mickey drew a talking stone, a sand-colored rock, from his jacket pocket and rubbed it vigorously against his coat until it started to glow. Then he held it to his mouth. “Go ahead,” he said, but I’d swear I caught a hint of regret in the beast’s tone.

  I watched Moxie weekly look up as a great hairy hand took her from the cage and held her up. She was barley able to turn herself over.

  “Hey Mickey, just for giggles, turn on the two way,” Geeter said.

  Mickey nodded his great, ape-like head, and then pressed the projected mute dot.

  Inside I cringed.

  A second, hairy hand, this one in a fist, came into view and aimed itself at the palm cradling the little fairy. Frankly, I wasn’t sure that a flower fairy could be killed so easily, but, in her weakened state, maybe. The fist drew back and Moxie looked over. As soon as she spotted me her face, as battered and bruised as it was, alit with a broad smile and her eyes filled with the absolute adoration a pet shines on its master.

  “No, wait!” I shouted in one of my weakest and most repulsive moments ever.

  Geeter just raised his knobby brow and waited expectantly.

  I looked at the image again. Moxie’s stubs were fluttering like she was trying to fly straight at me. I swallowed down the last drips of my pride. This was going to hurt. “Fine, you scumbag. Leave her alone, Boss. Let her be.”

  “That’s all I wanted. OK Mickey, tell them lay off.”

  “Hold it Drveg, Boss says let her alone,” Mickey said and I most definitely heard him sigh with relief.

  I swallowed again, trying to relax my vocal cords. “What do you want?”

  “Boss,” the troll snapped.

  “Fine,” I growled in a low tone. “What do you want, Boss?”

  “Better.” He smiled in a way that really made me want to punch him. “I want the names, better yet the heads, of whoever’s been hitting my guys.” He tapped a grey skinned finger that was as thick as a sausage against the table. “I want them right here where I can see.”

  “And then you turn the fairy over to me,” I told as much as asked.

  He gave a little shrug. “We’ll see.”

  “No, not good enough.” I cocked the revolver and, with an elbow resting on the table, aimed it at his huge head. “I have your personal guarantee that she will be returned, alive and in no further harm, to me, or I shoot you here and now, Boss.”

  The troll’s smiled broadened and he raised an open hand like we were in court. “Sure, what do I care? You get the guys that are getting us, and you get what’s left of the flower ward back, I promise.”

  I glared at the monster. His word was worthless. This was a creature of darkness, made of evil itself. There was no way I could trust, whatever I did, that I’d see the pestering little fae again. But, as, at least for the moment, our goals were the same, I saw little harm in agreeing. “I’ll hold you to it, Geeter,” I said and holstered the gun.

  With a wave of a hand Geeter sent a waiter over to the bar. “So what do you need?”

  “Why me? Why not handle this yourself?”

  The waiter came over and sat a glass full of black glop in front of Geeter. Geeter eyed the drink and, for the first time ever that I knew of, looked a little shaken. He took a drink of the glop, and when he’d finished all traces of doubt had washed from his rock-like features. “Because you’re one of them.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said and nodded. “Human.”

  “Correct. You can move and operate in places that we can’t. Besides, despite your miniscule form, you have a reputation for getting things done, and I want this done. And I want it done fast. And I want it done right.”

  My stomach started hurting, and not just from the wretchedness of the place. This midget troll represented everything that I was against, everything that I had dedicated myself to destroying, and here I was taking orders like one of his mindless minions. “I need information, everything and every detail.”

  Geeter took another drink, and then began digging through the squiggling food on his plate—his way of letting me know the conversation was over. “I’m sending Mickey there to go with you. He knows all what happened. Heck, he witnessed one of these hits himself.”

  “What?” me and the sasquatch exclaimed at the same time.

  “Boss, you can’t…” the beast said in a deep, pleading tone.

  My head was shaking and I stood up from the chair. “I don’t work with monsters, not now, not ever.”

  “But Boss,” the sasquatch said pointing down with both hands. “What she did to my foot.”

  “Hey!” Geeter shouted with a mouthful of squealing food. “I don’t want to hear it. You two work it out however you do, now get out of here.”

  Mickey stood his seven foot frame up and was pouting like a four-year-old, turning the brim of his hat through his hairy fingers.

  I crossed my arms. “He won’t fit in my flycraft, it’s a one seater.”

  Geeter swallowed loudly. “Don’t matter none. The enforcer corps impounded your eerie ship half an hour ago.”

  “What? How do you—”

  “Because I’m Boss Geeter, I know everything that happens in the Burbs. Mickey will drive you in my ‘vertable. Now get to work the both of you.”

  Mickey stomped his metal foot hard on the floor, shaking the tables, and then limped his way out of the restaurant.

  I gathered up the ragged remains of my self respect and followed him.

  “Have a good night you two,” Getter called as I left.

  As I walked down the stairs, I passed a couple of old orcs with mops cleaning up the blood from my earlier romp. I headed to the long, chrome plated glidesport and knew deep down that this was going to be anything but a good night.

  -Next Time-

  Jazz has been pressed into working side by side with Mickey, Boss Geeter’s Bigfoot henchman, who she expects is out for revenge since she did shoot one of his great big feet off. Ever cautious of her unwanted companion, she searches for clues to the unexplained attacks on the monster community. No sooner do they arrive at Jazz’s office then they are attacked by a horde of clowns who’ve decided to bring a few magic uses along with them this time. If Jazz and her teammates survive the battle, at least one of them is going to pay a heavy price.

  Jazz, Monster Collector, Episode 9, Crime Scenes

  I hope you’ve enjoyed this Jazz: Monster Collector story.

  If you’d like to learn more about the monster collector, or me and my other works, please visit:

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  www.RyftsRants.com

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