Free Blood Work by L.J. Hayward

terrorising his joint for a couple of
nights. They nearly went postal on a bunch of kids last night. Me
and Merce took them out.”
    “Any
collateral damage?” Jacob reached under the counter and brought out
a black leather-bound book. He flipped it open and began scanning
the entries rapidly.
    “Nothing an
industrial-sized mop couldn’t handle. Barry might not sleep easy
for a couple of weeks, but he’ll recover.”
    Jacob nodded
absently, poring over pages of his neat handwriting. The few people
in Brisbane who were savvy to the world of the supernatural had a
touchstone in Jacob. He was kind of our score keeper.
    “Hmm, there
have been reports of Blues, Reds and Yellows. A possible sighting
of a Green, but that’s under suspicion.”
    “Why?”
    Shoving his
glasses up his nose, Jacob said, “I made that sighting. I was
pissed at the time.”
    “Ah. Star Trek
marathon?”
    Jacob smirked.
“Zena. I got so lucky.”
    I laughed.
“Good for you. But we have no real way of determining what clan
they were. If no one has reported any new activity there, maybe it
was a one-off.”
    “Maybe.”
    Yeah, and
there was more chance of me getting lucky before Jacob again.
    I walked away.
“Call me if you hear anything.”
    “Sure,
sure.”
    I was almost
at the door when Jacob called out.
    “Matt! Nearly
forgot. There was a guy in here looking for you yesterday.”
    The two
customers perked up, looking between me and Jacob. I walked back
past them with the urge to play Whack A Mole. I resisted. My
therapist would have been pleased.
    “Not a
regular?” I asked.
    “No. Some
bloke I’ve never seen before. He knew about you though. Didn’t come
out and say anything definite, but, I could tell. He’s in the know.
An older gentleman. Bit odd, but you’re no sparkling gem of
normalcy, either.”
    “We’re talking
Alec Guinness Kenobi, then?”
    “No. Very
British though. Old world air about him.”
    “Maybe Van
Helsing.”
    “You wish. He
just came in, asked if I knew you and where to find you. Very
reluctant to answer any of my questions.”
    “But the thing
is, did you answer any of his?”
    “Of course
not. What do you take me for?”
    “Do you really
want me to answer that?” I waved at the shop around me then escaped
before he could reply.
    Some gung-ho
parking officer had ticketed me. I shoved the fine in the glove
compartment and pulled out. Who would be asking for me by name that
Jacob didn’t know? My social life had gone the way of the dodo
years ago and the sum total of my human interaction these days was
Roberts, the occasional client, Jacob and once a month, my
therapist. Not a healthy circle of friends on anyone’s measuring
stick.
    I swung onto
the Riverside Express and headed for the Inner City Bypass,
wondering who Mystery Man might be. I didn’t have any English
relatives, hadn’t entered any sweepstakes and certainly hadn’t left
behind any Van Helsing wannabes thirsting for vengeance.
    The phone
rang. When I say rang, I mean it played a snippet of someone
singing a dirty Christmas Carol. Damn Roberts! He was always
messing with my stuff like this, knowing I didn’t have the
tech-savvy to fix it.
    I answered.
“You’ve reached Night Call Incorporated. We’re sorry to inform you
that the office is currently doing a little better than the speed
limit so you’re gonna hafta make it quick. Go.”
    “Mr
Hawkins.”
    Ah, fuck it.
“Hey, Dr Campbell, how’s things?”
    “Oh, you know
how it is. Some client doesn’t show up for his appointment, doesn’t
call, so I’m actually running ahead of schedule today.” My
court-appointed therapist could be a droll fellow.
    “On the bright
side, it’s a win for your other patients, isn’t it?”
    “I like your
glass half-full attitude, Mr Hawkins. But I doubt Judge Miklovich
would. This is the second appointment you’ve missed.”
    I winced. “Um,
I meant to call and rearrange, honestly. I had a tough night last
night and got a little