Irregulars: Stories by Nicole Kimberling, Josh Lanyon, Ginn Hale and Astrid Amara Read Online Free PDF

he’d have been able to see it.
    Agnes seemed to know and have an opinion about everyone in the city.
    “If you need some help with your garden, I can put you in touch with some gnomes,” she told Gunther. “They’re really great guys and work for peanuts.”
    Keith’s patience thinned.
    “Look, we aren’t here looking for discount day labor. We need to know where to find meat.” Keith flipped out his wallet, flashing his badge. “You know what I’m talking about.”
    Agnes’s lip curled. Her silver septum piercing glinted. “I know what you mean, and I think it’s disgusting. You agents are all the same. You think we goblins all just waiting around to become cannibals.”
    “Hey now, that’s not true—” Gunther began.
    “You’re worst of all—standing there with juice from my produce on your lips while taking the man’s coin to continue the unfair profiling of your own people.”
    Vendors in the booths around them started to take notice. The lanky man selling recycled sweaters in the stall next door drifted over. Keith suppressed the urge to reach for his mage pistol. It would only escalate the situation. Besides, Gunther didn’t seem ruffled. He munched cherry after cherry, an affable smile on his face. Keith guessed that he was accustomed to dealing with this sort of aggressive reaction.
    “We’re not here to bother you, miss. I’m sure nobody here has anything to do with the murders that have taken place in the last year,” Gunther said. “But we have to check up on every possible lead, you see? We need to speak with everyone who might have heard something about these crimes. Sometimes people aren’t even aware that they know important information.”
    “But why come here first? Why not ask the bloodsuckers? They eat people all the time,” Agnes said.
    “We will be following multiple lines of inquiry,” Keith said. Then following Gunther’s lead, even though it went against his personal grain, he said, “I apologize for being abrupt earlier, miss. But three people are dead. Butchered right down to their bones. Imagine what that must be like for their families to see when they come to claim the bodies.”
    “But it’s not goblins,” she insisted.
    “How do you know for sure?” Gunther cocked his head slightly. “Have you heard anything about the murders? Anything at all, gossip or speculation? People talking in bars?”
    “Have you ever seen this before?” Keith pulled the Theater of Blood Carnivore Circus flyer out of his pocket, unfolded it, and showed it to her.
    “Never,” she said.
    “Are you sure?” Gunther asked.
    Agnes clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. She covered her face with her hands and said again, “It’s not goblins. It can’t be goblins.”
    “You have a Carnivore Circus bumper sticker on your bike, miss. Now I’m going to ask you again: what do you know about this flyer?” Keith persisted.
    “Nothing,” she said, from behind her hands.
    Guilty , Keith thought. Or at least not entirely innocent . She knew something. Keith wondered how hard it would be to drag her to the Irregulars field office.
    “The Carnivore Circus isn’t involved,” the lanky man suddenly said. “We’re just a band, that’s all.”
    Keith’s attention snapped immediately to the lanky man. “I take it that you’re in this band?”
    “Yeah, I play bass.”
    “And your name is?” Gunther flipped out his notebook.
    “Lancelot Paddington, but my band name is The Lancer.”
    Agnes laid a hand on his arm. “You shouldn’t talk to them without a lawyer.”
    Lancelot shrugged. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
    “So tell us about your band,” Gunther said.
    “We’re a three-piece metal band. All goblin. Our influences include The Stooges and Three Inches of Blood. We’ve got an EP out right now. Last week we made a date to talk with a local label—”
    Keith cut him off, “Tell us about why someone would think your band has to do with these murders.”
    “This