by Phil Gabriel
The first notes of Jackson Browne’s “The Load Out” song wafted over the crowd. Encouraged by the crowd, Monica hit the high notes on the “stay” chorus, and the audience sang along.
I looked around as the song wound down and saw the members of the audience wink out, one by one. Sitting at a nearby table was a balding man with glasses, a notebook computer in front of him and a draft beer near to hand. At his left, wearing a black cloak, sat an imposing skeletal figure. An old-fashioned farm implement was propped against their table. On his right sat a young witch wearing a pointed witch’s cap in a decidedly un-witchlike lavender color.
Recognizing the balding man, I prepared to get up and say hello to an old friend. As I was rising, the skeletal figure reached inside his cloak and brought out a highball glass-sized hourglass. It took me a second to realize what was strange about the hourglass. The sand was flowing backwards, in contradiction to the law of gravity. Mr. D tapped the balding man on the shoulder, interrupting his typing, and pointed to the hourglass. With a reluctant nod, he closed his laptop, drank the last of his beer, and slid out of his chair. All three faded away.
Damn, I had wanted to have another drink with him. I would have traded several years of my life to read what he had been writing. I missed Sir Terry.
The song finished, and we were the only ones left. The bottles of Johnnie Walker were empty, the champagne flat, the ice melted, and the Pepsi bottles gone.
Monica said, “Elvis has left the building!” in her most sonorous tone. Then she came down the stairs on light feet. She was quite the sight in her underwear and high heels, and I admired the work I had done.
She pulled Jason to his feet and gave him a hug while whispering in his ear.
“OK,” agreed Jason, turning back to say goodnight. With that, they were out the door and heading away.
I remember gazing into Kitty-Sue’s eyes and reaching for her, then nothing.
I drifted up from dreams of hugging a mink-coat-wearing pillow to find myself in bed with Kitty-Sue. Kitty-Sue was spooned up against me as the little spoon, her bushy tail tickling my nose. A tiny spot of my drool dripped onto her tail. As I snuggled even closer, her ear perked up and her butt wriggled against me. I found my hand holding the sweet weight of her bare breast, and her nipple hardened against my palm. Even through my killer hangover, I was happy and preparing to get even happier.
Then a plastic bottle of water hit me in the head, making my hungover noggin ring like a bell. Looking around through squinted eyes, I saw that we were back in the penthouse suite. More exactly, in the huge bed in the suite.
As I processed this, another plastic bottle zoomed at Kitty-Sue’s head. This bottle was intercepted by Kitty-Sue’s hand in a blind catch. Wow, good reflexes. Kitty-Sue bounced up and headed towards the bathroom.
“Come on,” said Akiko. “Get a move on! We need to catch our flight!”
Sitting up, I cracked the bottle, upended it, and swallowed half. Through the pain, I realized something was different about Akiko. Her English sounded perfect. No hesitation in finding words, excellent use of idiom. How long had I been asleep?
“Why is your English so good now?” I asked.
“Elvis taught me the words to the songs,” she replied. “He’s a great teacher.”
“All of his songs?” I ventured.
“No, silly Sensei,” she said. “All songs. Every song that’s ever been sung.”
What did that mean? Magicians hate surprises.
As a test, I started on an old Italian song; Piccolo Grande Amore. After the first line, she joined in and added her voice to mine.
Damn, her Italian accent was better than mine. Claudio Baglione would have cried upon hearing her.
Oh, crap, I thought. Where was I when the god king was handing out polylingual skills?
Kitty-Sue exited the bathroom, looking entirely too chipper for someone who had slept as little as she had. Damn shifter metabolism. She was brushing some kinks out of her tail fur.
“You look different,” she said to Akiko, looking her up and down. “Happier, content, mmm... sated?”
Sated. Yes, she had the look of a girl who had been thoroughly screwed and was glad about it.
Akiko blushed and looked down at her feet, confirming our suspicions. “You know,” she mumbled, “he asked me to stay.”
“Really,” said Kitty-Sue, tilting her head, “and what was your response to the King?”
Expression firming up, Akiko looked at both of us in turn. “I said I have an obligation to my family, my friends”—with a nod at Kitty-Sue— “and Scott-Sensei. I won’t leave them, even for the touch of the King.”
Eighteen
Attack At The Airport
Before leaving the hotel for the airport, Kitty-Sue divested herself of her cutlery, handing it all over to me for safekeeping. It all went in my “magic poke,” as Elvis called it. Once again, Kitty-Sue commandeered the shintai ring that housed Akiko’s essence. I thought she would carry it in her tiny purse or a pocket. Instead, she stared at the ring for a minute, seemed to come to a decision, and moved the ring towards her finger.
Just as she was about to put the ring on her finger, I reached out to stop her. “You don’t want to do that,” I said. “One person wearing both the ring and the collar, each an immensely powerful Artifact of Power, would produce unpredictable effects.”
Kitty-Sue’s eyes widened, then she gave me her evil grin. I abruptly realized that her trickster nature liked unpredictable effects. Faster than I could react, she tried to jam the ring on her finger. I watched in horror as the ring approached her finger, then in abrupt relief as the ring popped away from Kitty-Sue’s grasp, flying across the room.
With her preternatural reflexes, Kitty-Sue zipped across the room and grabbed the ring. With a stubborn look on her face, she again tried to push the ring onto her finger, only to be met with a fierce resistance. “It’s like trying to push two magnets together,” she said.
At that instant, Akiko materialized. She shook her head decisively and wagged her finger. “I don’t swing that way, Kitty-Sue! Now quit trying to penetrate me!”
Kitty-Sue, surprised by both Akiko’s words and changed demeanor, slid the ring into her pocket. The ring popped out and flew towards my head. I raised a hand and grabbed it out of the air.
“Scott-Sensei,” said Akiko in a sultry voice, “you can wear my ring any time.” She licked her lips. What had the night with a sex god done to my shy, retiring student?
Caught between Kitty-Sue’s murderous glare and Akiko’s sly smile, I decided to not take this any further. I pulled the empty gold chain that had once held the ring from around my neck and affixed the ring to the chain. “This is just to get through security,” I said as I put the chain and ring around my neck. “You’ll be able to come back out at the boarding gate.” That would give them both time to cool off.
Nodding acceptance, Akiko started to fade, then abruptly came back to full solidity. She smiled slightly, stepped over to Kitty-Sue, and whispered in her ear. Kitty-Sue’s angry features softened, then her eyes widened in surprise, matching the perking up of her fox ears, then she appeared intrigued. She said, “Hai! Hai! I’m looking forward to it.”
Damn, I wished my hearing was good enough to catch that conversation.
As Akiko faded away into the ring, I raised an eyebrow at Kitty-Sue. She gave me her blandest smile and said, “Just girl-talk. Nothing to interest you.”
I picked up Princess, in her cane form, and put on my dragonskin satchel, and we exited the hotel.
We caught the 10:05 flight to LaGuardia airport.
As we left Las Vegas, I felt the loss of magic acutely. It would be so easy to stay in one place, growing more and more comfortable, putting down roots. Sometimes I wonder if homesickness is the mundane equivalent of this loss.
The flight was uneventful, and we arrived in LaGuardia in the late afternoon. After exiting the security area, Akiko popped up beside us, matching our st
ride. I enjoyed walking through crowds with my ghost student. Most passed through her insubstantial form without notice, a few gave that “someone’s walking on my grave” shudder, and a very few sidestepped to avoid her. I watched the sidesteppers carefully to see if they focused on Akiko. But no, their eyes went elsewhere. They were sensitive enough to sense her presence, but not talented enough to see her.
At the first restroom, Kitty-Sue stopped me and asked for her “package.” She was anxious to get her knives back from my satchel. I handed the package over and watched as the two went into the restroom.
When they came out, Kitty-Sue looked much happier, as did Akiko. Despite knowing the amount of hardware Kitty-Sue carried, I could detect no outlines of her weaponry under her tight blouse/skirt combo.
We followed our noses to a food court and had a quick meal of burgers and fries. Between bites, I tried to grab some of the wisps of magical energy that floated through the air, only to have them evade my grasp. I saw Akiko performing the same experiments.
At a slight “ahem” cough from Kitty-Sue, I looked up. Several other customers were staring. Mmm, weird looking guy mumbling to himself and making strange gestures? Yeah, that might be a cause for alarm in an airport. Before security was called, I asked Kitty-Sue to erect one of her kitsune bubbles. Once the bubble went up, we were ignored.
“So, boss,” asked Kitty-Sue as she munched a French fry, “what’s the plan? Do you own a house here, too?”
When had she started calling me boss? “No,” I replied. “Here it will be strictly hotels. Akiko and I need to spend some time acclimating. I think Central Park will be best, so I booked us a suite at the Ritz-Carlton.”
Finished with our meal, I asked Kitty-Sue to drop her bubble. As the shield evaporated, I felt the attention of a powerful entity. Akiko’s puzzled look matched my own “being watched” feeling. Our glances centered on a point east of us.
“We might have to make another stop,” I said.
“Besides Central Park?” asked Kitty-Sue. Akiko was still peering at the wall, eyes focused beyond the airport.
“We have to go to L—”
“Liberty Island!” Akiko completed my sentence.
“Liberty Island?” asked Kitty-Sue. “You mean where the Statue of Liberty is located?”
I picked up my trash, dumped it all into a bin, and headed towards the exit. Kitty-Sue hesitated with her tray in hand for a moment before realizing that here, unlike Japan, there were no separate bins for liquids, paper, and plastic.
“I was hoping to avoid it,” I said as we walked away from the restaurant, “but we have to go and pay a visit.”
“To who?” asked both Kitty-Sue and Akiko in unison.
“The spirit of Liberty. Her abode is the Statue of Liberty,” I said.
“I’m looking forward to a trip to Liberty Island,” said Kitty-Sue, “but why do we have to visit it?”
“Both Akiko and I felt her attention,” I replied. “Now that she knows we’re here, it would be, mmm, rude to not visit.”
Kitty-Sue and Akiko exchanged one of those female glances that transmitted a lot of information in a microsecond.
“Scott,” said Kitty-Sue, dropping the “boss” honorific, “you have that look.”
I blanked my face. “What look?”
“The look you get when you talk about exes,” she said.
“You screwed the Statue of Liberty!” exclaimed Akiko.
“Well,” I said, flashing my best grin, “we dated in the summer of ’84. More than that, I can’t say.” Realizing that was before either of them was born, I suddenly felt old.
“OK, boss,” said Kitty-Sue, “is there anywhere in the world we can go and not run into one of your exes?”
Lost in thought as we walked, I said, “Well, the females I date tend to live a long time, so it’s only natural...”
My explanation was abruptly cut off as an immensely powerful hand grabbed my right forearm, locking it in a tight grip. My attacker pulled at my arm with inhuman strength and speed, spinning me around to my right. Princess fell to the tiles with a clatter. I accelerated, slowing down the world to a crawl. My assailant had a fist halfway to my jaw in a punch that would have knocked my head off. His clear blue eyes, unblemished skin, and inhuman strength and speed all indicated he was a were.
I pushed at time even harder, slowing his punch down enough to allow me to turn my head and dodge. He still had an unbreakable hold on my right arm. I stepped into his arc while bringing my right elbow down, bracing it against my side. A normal human couldn’t hope to arm wrestle a were fairly. However, putting my elbow in against my side and pushing with the weight of my entire body pushed his arm in and brought my hand close to his belt, where I grabbed his buckle.
I pushed with my left hand on his right elbow, forcing him to twist even further. I grabbed his collar with my left hand, pulling him forward while pushing with my right. His feet slid on the tiles, coming off the floor as I pushed up with my right arm. He was stronger and faster than a human, but his weight was the same as a normal man. He didn’t have all the tricks with weight and momentum that Kitty-Sue and I had.
As he was raised in the air, I lowered myself, putting my right knee on the ground, the other knee braced to allow me to perform the backbreaker drop maneuver.
I felt the satisfying crunch as his back bent at an unnatural angle. I pushed him off my knee, and he flopped on the floor. The limpness in his lower limbs indicated his spinal column had been shattered. As a were, he could heal from almost any wound, barring the use of silver or magic, but he would be out of commission for a bit.
As time started to speed back up to normal, he had another trick to try. His right hand flexed, and hair sprouted on the back of his hand. Claws extended from his fingers as he slashed at my throat. I was just fast enough, or time was just slow enough, to allow me to slide back enough to evade his attack.
I waited a moment, savoring my escape, when an internal voice said, “Target fixation! Wolves always travel in packs!” I looked around quickly, to see another damn were headed my way. As time caught up, I heard the new were say, “Don’t kill him! Take him alive!”
Crap! I was exhausted from the time slip and didn’t have the energy to do it again. I was ready to call Princess to me in defense, but that would have meant killing the weres. I didn’t even know what pack they were from. I felt anger humming from Princess—she was eager to taste blood. Letting her loose here might involve mundanes.
The second were jerked to a stumbling halt as a pair of thrown blades found him. Each blade, sparkling with kitsune magic, made a deep wound, one in his right thigh and one in his left shoulder. The smirk on his face was quickly washed away when the blades didn’t pop out and the flesh beneath heal immediately. Instead, the blades wriggled in like badgers going for the throat.
With a muffled scream, he pulled the blades out and threw them down. As they clattered to the floor, he clamped his hands over the wounds, which refused to heal. Through the ripped clothes, I saw his flesh writhing as it tried to heal the magical wounds.
Kitty-Sue glided up, bent down without taking her eyes from the threat, and picked up her blades from the floor. She looked at the were with her flat predator’s gaze, then moved in quickly. The were tried to step back but couldn’t move fast enough to evade her, ending with his back against the corridor wall.
Kitty-Sue nonchalantly wiped her blades off on the thug’s expensive suit, looked at the wounds, and commented, “That’s going to leave a mark.” She maintained her stance, holding the blades in front of the assailant’s eyes.
“Wha-wha-what the fuck are those?” he stammered, then sniffed. “They’re not silver. Why can’t I heal?”
Taking a quick look around to see if there were any other assailants, I bent down to pick up Princess. She was so angry she was vibrating ultrasonic screams of torture and death. Good thing I had not pulled her out; she might have done a lot worse than Kitty-Sue.
“Wha
t’s that screaming noise?” the were asked, unable to pinpoint Princess’ shrieks.
“The blade’s hungry for blood,” responded Kitty-Sue.
Calling up a bubble of kitsune magic that instantly made the crowd ignore our little tableau, Kitty-Sue leaned even closer to the were, examining him like a malevolent child examines a bug. “Kill now?” she asked in a voice that sent shivers up my spine.
“Not yet,” I said.
The younger were made scrabbling sounds with his legs as his spine healed and allowed him to start moving again. Before I could make a move, Kitty-Sue reached her bladed hand behind the ear of her opponent. The stench of burning were flesh wafted through our area.
Pulling him over by the ear, Kitty-Sue forced the were to move over next to his pack mate. In a quick twist, she forced the were to his knees, following him down by folding herself into a seiza position. Then she transferred her right knife to the throat of the second were.
Having seen the effect the deadly blades had had on his mate, Brokeback wisely stayed on the floor.
“Kill now?” asked Kitty-Sue, this time with a plaintive, let-me-play whine in her voice.
“Kitty-Sue,” I asked, ignoring the two werewolves, “is the story true?”
“Which story, boss?” she asked, without moving the knives she held at the werewolves’ throats.
“That if you take a werewolf tail back to your queen, she’ll promote you? Give you an extra tail?”
With an avaricious gleam in her eye, Kitty-Sue responded, “Yes! I’d forgotten about that. If you make them change, I’ll get two tails.”
With a weighing stare, she continued, “The ears are worth something too. Do you want them?”
The younger were, not having felt the power behind Kitty-Sue’s blades, muttered, “Bitch, we’ll feast on you.”
The older were said something I couldn’t understand. Akiko, making herself visible to only Kitty-Sue and me, said, “Oh, they’re speaking German! He called the young guy a pup and told him to shut up if he wants to keep his tail intact.”