Free Hellforged by Nancy Holzner Page A

“You don’t believe Axel murdered T.J.”
    “Who said anything about murder? All kinds of illegal crap could be down there. Drugs, weapons, stolen property. Hell, if I find so much as an expired driver’s license, I’m shutting the place down.”
    For the first time, Axel looked worried. Whether that was because he had something to hide or he thought Norden would plant something downstairs, I couldn’t tell. Maybe he just didn’t want a team of cops invading his privacy. Axel was big on privacy.
    The front door opened. “Must be the SWAT guys.” Norden grinned malevolently. “I’m looking forward to this.”
    The smile dropped from his face, and Sykes swore under his breath. I looked over to see what the Goons were scowling at. Two men, humans, stood inside the door, unwinding their scarves. Their I-own-the-place attitude broadcast they were detectives.
    That would explain the Goons’ scowls. Boston PD and the Goon Squad shared an unfriendly rivalry, and Creature Comforts, in the middle of the New Combat Zone, was definitely on Goon Squad turf. These norm cops were overstepping a boundary.
    I braced for the inevitable conflict that would erupt when the new detectives came over to confront Norden and Sykes. But instead, each went to a different member of the CSI team, drawing them aside and speaking in low voices. Within a minute, the team was packing its equipment.
    Sykes and Norden exchanged a look and rushed over to one of the detectives, a bald guy in a camel coat. “What’s going on?” Sykes demanded. “What do you think you’re doing?”
    The norm didn’t even glance at the zombie; he answered to Norden instead. “I’m commandeering this forensic team. We need them at a crime scene.”
    “ This is a crime scene,” Sykes said.
    The norm kept his eyes on Norden, his gaze cool. “I don’t see any evidence of a crime.”
    “Are you kidding?” Norden said. “A PDH was killed.”
    “PDH? Oh, you mean a zombie . Like I said, no evidence of a crime.” He smirked. “You can’t murder something that’s already dead.”
    Sykes gaped, like he couldn’t believe the norm had actually said that. Norden puffed himself up and took a step toward the detective, fists clenched. “You can’t blow this off. PDHs have rights in this state.”
    “Our authorization comes from Hampson.” Fred Hampson, Boston’s police commissioner, was not a friend to paranormals. Given the chance, he’d be leading the torch-and-pitchfork crowd himself. “Anyway, show me a zombie who’s had his rights violated. I don’t see anything here but a big, stinking mess.” He gave his partner a look. “See? This is why I never go out in the Zone. Filthy goddamn monsters.”
    “Who are you calling a monster, blood bag?” Sykes launched himself at the cop, who crashed to the floor. Sykes kneeled on the norm’s chest, his arms pumping like pistons. He landed a couple of good punches—zombie-strength punches—before Axel ran over and, with help from Norden, dragged him off the guy.
    The norm detective sat up, pressing both hands to his face. Blood gushed from his nose, pouring through his fingers and staining his coat.
    Uh-oh. Not good. If you’re a human and there’s a zombie around, bleeding is definitely a bad idea.
    Everyone looked at Sykes.
    The big zombie’s nostrils twitched as he caught the scent. He shook off his partner like he was flicking dandruff from his shoulder. Even Axel couldn’t hold him. Sykes took two staggering steps toward the detective, dragging Axel behind. The detective screamed, high-pitched like a terrified animal. He tried to climb to his feet, but he couldn’t get his legs under him. The best he could do was push himself halfway under a table. He lay on his side, cupping his hands around his nose like he could hide the blood with his fingers.
    I ran to help Axel, grabbing Sykes’s arm and doing my best to dig my heels into the slippery floor. Maybe the two of us could hold Sykes back. The