Poker Face

Chapter Three

Three of a Kind

Dante shoved his hands guiltily into his pockets as they exited the emergency room, letting Patty lean on him for balance. Bloody cotton balls were packed into her left ear from the ruptured ear drum, and he actually felt kind of shitty for firing his guns so close to her frail head.

She was only human after all...

"Sorry about that," he said dryly, not very good at sincerity.

"Yeah, I'll bet you are," she grumbled, looking down at her script for perkasets. "I can't believe they don't do anything for this sort of thing."

"Wounds take time to heal, Posh. What are they gonna do, stitch your ear together?"

"Stop calling me that, I'm not deaf you know."

"You should be after that. You're still a trooper, though..."

"Stop treating me like I'm ten."

"It's the last time I saw you, cut me a break."

I'll bet you wouldn't have said that a few hours ago... she thought as she pulled out her cell phone to call a taxi. Instead she said, "So. You were right. They want me all pure and such."

"Trust me, I'm not happy that I'm right," Dante said quietly. "Don't bother with the cab."

"Why not?"

An engine revved and a motorcycle pulled up in front of them, a helmeted biker in a tight, red outfit at the wheel. She kicked the kickstand out and removed her helmet with a smile.

"Lady!" Patty exclaimed happily.

"Well, look whose talking," Lady told her with a smirk. "So, Dante, am I putting this on your tab?"

"Yeah. Make sure she doesn't get eaten, would you?"

"Wait, where are you going?" Patty asked Dante.

"Research," he replied in that cryptic manner with that small, evil smile of his.

Lady tossed Patty another helmet. "Hop on."

Patty mounted the bike awkwardly after donning the helmet and looked to Dante. "Call me as soon as you find something out," she told him.

"Yeah," was all he said as Lady revved again and took off.

"Where are we going?" Patty shouted over the roar of her engine as Lady missed the turn to her hotel.

"To meet a friend," she replied, turning onto the highway.

Lady pulled up to a clothing boutique and parked. She only smiled at Patty's inquisitive look as she accepted her helmet and put it away on the side bag of her bike. They walked in and were greeted by a fat woman who couldn't fit into anything she sold. Lady largely ignored her and seemed to be looking over the racks for someone. At last she waved and met up with a very tall blond woman with long hair and intense blue eyes.

"Trish."

"Lady."

"Dante got a catch."

"Do I know this person?" Trish asked, squinting at Patty.

"You were Dante's old partner, right?" Patty asked.

"Ah, you were Dante's shadow a while back, weren't you?"

"Seems some demons are on her tail, Dante told me everything," Lady said to Trish.

"E... Everything?" Patty asked, feeling her face get hot.

Trish chuckled. "Oh honey, don't get involved with him. He may be a good lay, but his maturity level is atrocious."

"Seconded," Lady agreed.

"I'm not!" Patty said defensively.

"Sure," Lady said with a smirk. "Whatever you say. I wanted to know if her recent run ins have anything to do with Lowell."

Trish thought. "Unlikely. Abigail was defeated. Though it wouldn't strike me as odd if Lowell had more than one seal on more than one demon."

"Hmmm..." was all Lady said.

"Her mother left her something that someone is preventing her from receiving," Lady explained. "And they need Patty alive and … pure."

Trish almost snorted, then just smiled. "Poor Dante..."

"I know, right? She's grown quite pretty and likes to pick up after him..."

"Hey!" Patty protested. "I'm not interested in a guy like him! I only came for his help because I know he can get this taken care of!"

The other women exchanged a look and started to laugh.

"I'm serious! This is serious! Take me seriously, dammit!"

"We are, we promise," Lady assured. "Forgive us if we find the situation a little comical..."

"What's that?" Trish asked sharply, looking at Patty's chest and mirth lost.

"What?" Patty asked.

Lady reached over and unbuttoned Patty's top button to reveal a black seal on her chest. "How long has that been there?"

"Oh my god," Patty breathed. "This wasn't here a few hours ago..."

Trish looked grim. "I know that seal. It's one of twelve."

"Do tell," Lady asked.

"It's … one of Mundus'."

"Mundus?" Patty and Lady asked.

Trish didn't reply, only continued to frown.

"Maybe we should talk in a more secluded area..." Lady said quietly, motioning for them to leave.

"Why did this suddenly appear now?" Patty wondered out loud as they made their way back out to Lady's bike.

"Bleed there lately?" Trish asked dryly.

"No, I – " Patty fell silent. "But … it wasn't my blood."

"Doesn't have to be," she told her. "Where's Dante?"

"Fucked if I know," Lady said with a shrug. "I'm supposed to babysit until he gets back to Patty's suite."

"Call him. We have a problem."

"So you're telling me you can't dig up more than an obituary?" Dante sighed into his cellphone.

"Sorry, Dante, this stuff is tight," Morrison apologized.

"Why don't you try more than just Googling it, dumbass."

"Give me a little more credit than that," Morrison chuckled. "Hold on a second... it says here that Patty already claimed her inheritance."

"We've got a shape changer with access to illegal identification," Dante mused, stopping in front of the address he had gotten from Morrison. "Not interested in money, or Patty would be broke. You sure this is the right address?"

"56 Fernway Park Circle."

"What a shit hole."

"Hey, you asked for the closest antique shop to you..."

"Every one of these things has something linked to the Underworld."

"You're grasping at straws, Dante."

"No, I'm following a hunch."

"Whatever you say."

"Later."

Dante hung up on him and walked into the dusty place, ringing a bell as he did so. No one greeted him. He glanced at the hours and found them probably ready to close. "Hey," he called out.

"Just... just a minute!" someone called from the back. After a moment a reedy man with large glasses stumbled out from behind some boxes. "I'm sorry sir, we're about to close..."

"Just answer me a few questions and I won't bother you again," Dante told him distantly. "Do any business with the Lowell company?"

"Huh?" the owner asked, raising his eyebrows. "Why yes, Patricia Lowell just recently made a large donation to my shop a week or so ago. I thought it was very generous of her..."

"Can I see what she gave you?"

"Tomorrow when we open again I'd be happy to – "

Dante cocked Ebony and licked the barrel. "I won't take up much of your time."

The man went pale. "Of... of course. This way."

He led Dante towards the back of the establishment and pointed to a few boxes. "There."

"Thanks." Dante started rifling through the clocks and jewelry and pottery when his cellphone went off, playing Elena Huston's "Mermaid Rock" quite loudly. Goin' on and on I've got the future in my hands – "What?" he answered, tossing a doll aside.

"Dante, it's been a while."

"... Trish."

"How you been?"

"Not a good time for chit chat, babe."

"Good, because you'll want to hear this."

"Make it quick."

"Patty has a seal on her."

Dante was quiet.

"A blood seal."

"Not good. Recognize it?"

"Unfortunately yes."

"Mundus."

"Yes."

There was a tense silence.

"Where are you?" Trish asked.

"Sniffing out more seals. Twelve if I recall, am I right?"

"Yes. How did you …?"

"Call it a hunch. Though Mundus has some guts to try and show his ugly face again around me. I thought it could be a deal with seals, though I must say, this is a curveball if I've seen one..."

"Patty is in danger."

"That's why Lady is with her. She's still with her, right?"

"I'll say. Oh yeah, your tab at Laurel's Boutique went up."

"How did I guess?"

Trish laughed a little grimly. "He'll try and kill you again."

"And you."

"I know," was all she said.

"Meet me at the suite."

"Gotcha."

Dante hung up and pulled out a mirror about the size of his chest. "Here we go..."

"You have a good eye," the owner told him nervously. "That's a very valuable piece from the seventeenth century."

"I'll bet," Dante told him, pulling out a knife.

"Hey, what are you – ? WHOA!" the owner shrieked as Dante stabbed himself in the palm, bleeding profusely. "H-hold on, what are you doing?"

Dante ignored him and started to smear the blood over the mirror, looking carefully for any telltale signs. "Come on... I know it's here..."

"You just bought that, I hope you know that!"

"I'm afraid this is a faulty donation," Dante told him, then his bright eyes lit up. "There you are..."

A seal was starting to burn itself faintly in the lower right corner of the mirror.

"F-faulty? I have receipts – !"

"Relax. You got it for free, so no loss," Dante said as he rose, mirror under his arm.

"I'm calling the cops!"

"Don't care."

"I'm serious, mister!"

"So call the fuzz. It's not like my record is great anyway. See ya."

Dante speed dialed Morrison once he was out on the street, mirror in tow. "Did you call me to beg for more leads?" Morrison chuckled.

"So little faith... no, I need you to check in on the Lowell estate and see how many donations they've made in the past four months."

"Donations?"

"You deaf?"

"Nevermind, I've learned to stop questioning your logic. Alright, anything else?"

"You wouldn't want to alter some police records, would you?"

"What am I, Poindexter?"

"Forget I asked." Dante hung up, and once again... Goin' on and on I've got the future – "Yo."

"Get your ass over to the hotel!"

"Lady?"

Gunfire. "Patty is in danger!"

"On my way." Dante hung up and broke into a sprint with a grin. "Well, well, three for three. Can't wait to see where this goes..."