The Dossiers of Asset 108 Collection

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The Dossiers of Asset 108 Collection Page 197

by J M Guillen


  “Until they bled?” Rehl wrinkled his nose in distaste.

  “The little cretin would hover over them and lick the blood off their skin.” I glanced from Rehl to Alicia. “The next day they wouldn’t have any wounds, but it made the kids sick.”

  “It makes me sick.” Alicia crossed her arms over her ample chest.

  “There was a lot more.” I finished my beer. “McDonell Elementary for one. The school out in Van Buren where the younger children drew pictures of an emaciated woman. They said she lived behind the school’s walls.”

  “Behind the walls?”

  “Some of them started dreaming of her. They said she had died in the school, had been walled up in the basement and starved to death.”

  I told them all of it. I told them about the shambling spirit we had found up in Three Rivers. I told them about the baker who had inherited his father’s ring—which turned out to be the home of a shadowed beast that would kill whoever upset the wearer.

  It had been a long six years.

  “The most important part is this, though.” Rehl waved one hand, his voice a little loud. “Are we going to be safe?” He poked at me. “Or has the Masked Brava here gotten us all in over our heads?”

  “She’s the worst kind ’a friend,” Simon drawled sagely. “I can’t imagine y’all wanna hang out with her much anyways.”

  “I hate you all,” I groused.

  “Well, obviously things are a bit more complicated than you believed.” Simon rubbed the back of his neck. “After a fashion, however, you shouldn’t be in much more danger than you were a coupla’ days ago. Nothing’s really changed.”

  “Except that now we know.” Bitterness laced Alicia’s voice, but I couldn’t quite understand why. “Now we know Liz is in danger, and surprise, we might be as well.”

  “Um, are you okay?” I leaned across the table, closer to her. “You seem… irritated.”

  She just stared at me for a moment, hazel eyes intense, and held out her necklace. It trembled slightly in her hand. “You know how long I’ve been studying this stuff? I mean, meditation, chakras, seasonal rituals, and all kinds of personal practice!” she exclaimed, her voice bitter.

  “How long?” Baxter idly scratched his cheek, clearly oblivious to her point.

  “Years! And after reading approximately a hundred books on personal empowerment and manipulating the elements and worshiping ancient goddesses, guess how often I get to control the wind?” Her head dropped and she heaved a sigh. “That sounds petty, it’s just—”

  “There are some days I wish I could give it away.” I skewed my mouth to one side.

  “Have you tried?” she snapped.

  My head dropped. “Look, ’Licia, I’m sorry. There are times when I’d pay cash to just be a regular chick.”

  “Like me.” She rolled her eyes. “I bet. It must suck going on adventures and being some kind of… of…” She searched for the words. “Wind slinger.”

  “Lots of days, I’d flat give it to you, if I could. I just can’t.”

  “Well, if you find some magical power you can give away, can I be on the list?”

  “’Course.” I reached over and poked her. “You’re my girl.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I know.” She blew out a big sigh then and gave me a wavery smile. “You keep it.”

  “I think the rest of you are probably safe.” Simon leaned back in his chair.

  “You know, I thought I was safe while we watched Dread Manikin in the anime room.” Baxter stroked the beard he didn’t have. “Turned out I wasn’t.”

  “Pigtails here is in the middle ’a some bad business with someone she never shoulda crossed.”

  “I’ll say,” I muttered.

  “That being said, I don’t think this particular problem is going to come lookin’ for any of you.” He gazed around the table again. “I think tonight you just happened to get in the way, and I’m gonna take measures to make certain this particular problem gets handled.”

  “Yeah?” I regarded him, relief obvious in my voice. “You have a plan?”

  “I always have a plan.” He seemed a touch surly, and his gaze slid away from mine. “Even when someone’s been powerful stupid.”

  I shrank in my chair a little bit. Perhaps this was not the best night to tell him about my rendezvous with Garret.

  One thing at a time.

  “Now, I have to get the batteries in this thing all charged up again.” He tapped the earring and shook his head mockingly at me. “Pain in my butt.”

  “Yeah?” I hastily added, “It felt weird when I used it. More difficult.”

  “You weren’t exactly in a typical locale.” He shrugged. “I drained the thing dry comin’ to find you.”

  “Well, if we’re probably safe,” Baxter hedged, “I think it’s time for me to head back to the hotel. I’ve had more than enough adventure for one day.” He glanced at his watch. “Two days. It’s already tomorrow.”

  “It’s after midnight?” Rehl shook his head in in the tiniest bit of disbelief. “I had no idea.”

  “If you lot want to tuck in, that’s square enough.” Simon raised one eyebrow at me. “I need to spend a little time chattin’ with my wayward troublemaker.”

  “Because of plans?” I questioned hopefully.

  “Because of plans.”

  “Are you still going to meet with me tomorrow?” Baxter asked. “You wanted to head over to the shop.”

  “Yeah.” I’d almost forgotten the pile of stress regarding my dad. “What if I give you a call when I crawl out of bed?”

  “Maybe we can all meet up after you go to the shop.” Rehl chuckled as he elbowed Alicia. “Liz planned to run us through a dungeon tomorrow afternoon.”

  “The Uncanny, wasn’t it?” She gave me a grin.

  “That sounds great.” I smiled at my friends, yet I felt my attention drift away from them and a slight frown form on my face.

  I had things to do, important things. Regardless of what Simon may have said, Mister Lorne represented far more danger than I had believed, and I had no guarantee that my friends wouldn’t face that danger. Furthermore, this situation with my father struck me as just odd. Even if I didn’t have Mister Lorne’s otherworldly goons on my back, I’d be eager to spend my time tracking him down.

  For once in my life, I just wasn’t in the mood to game.

  Leveling Up

  September 27, 1997

  New York, New York

  “You’re a sheep-headed idiot.”

  Once my friends had left, Simon sat for a long moment not speaking. I’d known him long enough to know that, when he got in a foul mood, it was best to simply allow him to work through his own funk.

  “Well, I have a wonderful teacher.” I gave him a grin.

  His demeanor didn’t change.

  “I told you to stay away from him. You don’t even understand what you’ve done.”

  “Well maybe someone needs to tell me.” I let the irritation creep into my voice. “You’ve known me for a little bit now. Telling me to stay away from something mysterious hasn’t ever exactly worked out for you, has it?”

  “This isn’t my fault.” He leaned between us and pointed at me. “If you just waited, I would’ve told you all about Mister Lorne and that forsaken shop of his. I just needed you to be patient.”

  “I couldn’t be patient,” I said softly, almost a murmur. “I had no way of knowing when I’d see you next. I thought I could save my mom.”

  Simon sighed at that and seemed to deflate. He leaned forward onto the table, head in his hands. “Tell me.” He didn’t even raise his head, his voice muffled against the table.

  “You don’t want to know about my family or friends, remember?” More than an edge of accusation lurked in my words; I hadn’t ever understood the reasoning behind this rule.

  “Pretend I do,” he sighed. “Besides, I just met a gaggle of them.”

  “Well, I told you about the day the shop appeared.”r />
  “Right. That would be the same day I told you in no uncertain terms to stay as far away from the place as possible.”

  “It was such a weird little store.” I ignored him. “As long as I remember, that location had been a shitty little secondhand store full of garbage no one would want.”

  “Language.”

  “Right, well, one day the secondhand store was gone and this quaint little sign hung over the door: Fallen Leaves. It looked like a wholesome little business, something that would be right at home in a little 1950s town. The hand-painted sign suggested it was just some little mom-and-pop joint.”

  “It always does,” Simon muttered. “So at what point did you decide to go off and do something incredibly stupid?” He took the last sip of his beer and gestured to the young man tending bar.

  “I just poked my nose in to check out his shop.” I shook my head, feeling stupid. “The entire place gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

  “There’s an excellent reason for that.” Simon raised his head to the ceiling and steepled his fingers. “It’s not exactly real, not in the same way this place is.” He gestured at our surroundings.

  “Not real? But I went inside!”

  “It’s some kind of sideways world, a tiny place the monster has complete control over. Not just inside the store, either. The place sends out runners, like poison ivy. When it’s been in a place for a while, Fallen Leaves can even affect reality outside the store, in the neighborhood around it. It’s like a cancer.”

  “What about the Silent Gentlemen? I can’t imagine they like that too much.”

  “If they can stop the Gaunt Man, they haven’t.” He shrugged. “Dunno why.”

  “The Gaunt Man?” I wrinkled my forehead in confusion.

  “Mister Lorne isn’t that thing’s name. It’s been around for hundreds ’a years as far as I can tell. They called it the Gaunt Man in Germany.”

  “Hundreds of years?” Mister Lorne had looked old, incredibly so. But I never would have guessed him to be quite that old.

  “He’s not in any way a normal man. As far as I can track, he’s been the proprietor of Fallen Leaves since well before the Europeans settled in the Americas. That particular shop has probably done business in two dozen cities alone. Not different franchises, mind you. He simply opens a door in New York, Vegas, Amsterdam.” He took a sip. “They all lead into his creepy little lair.”

  “What does he want?”

  “The Gaunt Man is a collector. He makes bargains with others, sometimes people, sometimes other, older things.”

  “Other things?” I gave my head the tiniest shake.

  “Lollipop, you was in it deep the moment you walked into his store.” Simon took a drink of his beer.

  “I thought I could just browse.”

  “Not there. It don’t matter who you are, that… creature is gonna walk right up to you and sell you your heart’s desire.”

  “Mom.” Anger began to burn in my chest. “I just wanted her to be well.”

  “And the Gaunt Man just wants to have himself a pretty little prisoner with a clever knack,” Simon declared. “Did he take anything from you? Or per’aps show you some odd little trinket when you made your agreements?”

  I nodded in remembrance.

  “One more thing.” He reached beneath his counter and pulled out a pickle jar. The label and lettering looked like something from the great depression. Yet, whatever lay within wasn’t dill green. Inside, many small, faded white and yellow things tumbled and clinked.

  “What’s that?” I leaned closer to the jar as he opened it with nigh-skeletal hands.

  “Teeth.” He gave a wintery smile. “Specifically milk teeth.” He rummaged in the jar with one bony finger, and then pulled out one in particular.

  “Baby teeth?” Revulsion rippled across my back. “What do you have those for?”

  “I’ll show you.” Mister Lorne chuckled.

  “He had a tiny little tooth.” I paused to consider how odd it sounded. “He told me it was one of my baby teeth, and he’d be able to find me if things went wrong between us.” I scoffed. “I thought it was pretty strange at the time.”

  “I bet you take it more seriously now.”

  “Yeah. I do.” I frowned. “I keep getting found.”

  “The spirit we faced in the hotel was certainly one of his sworn creatures. Something that made the exact same kind ’a stupid arrangement you have.” Simon raised one eyebrow.

  “Dammit.” I leaned forward onto the table and sank my head into my hands. “What are we going to do?”

  “Language.” He scowled. “You ain’t gonna do nothin’.” His gruff tone left no room for discussion. “The Gaunt Man must have dozens and dozens ’a creatures bound to his will. We go in there all willy-nilly and neither one ’a us will be coming out.”

  “What do you expect me to do then?”

  “I’m gonna talk to some friends of mine. See if I can find out exactly how screwed you are.”

  “Okay.”

  “That means I’m going to be busy. And that means I need you to stay out of trouble for a day or two while I get things resolved.” He held up the earring. “Thanks to tonight, this won’t help. “It’s still attuned , but it needs more juice.” He gave me a sideward grin. “If my little sparrow practiced with her knack more, I wouldn’t have to charge things like this.”

  “Sorry I drained it.”

  “No, don’t be. If it wasn’t for this little doohickey, I wouldn’t’ve been able to find you.” He actually smiled a touch. “At least you know when to ask for help.”

  “How can I stay out of trouble,” I worried, “if Lorne can find me whenever he wants?”

  “Came prepared for that.” Simon rustled around inside his old jacket. “Brought you a little something.”

  “Yeah?” I leaned forward, unable to help myself. No matter how long I associated with the man, I never grew weary of his interesting little toys.

  “Yeah.” He laid his hand against the table, making a small clink. He slid an item over to me and removed his hand.

  A small bracelet. The band was comprised of three strands of woven leather, wooden beads, and several silver charms. They gleamed, several small symbols twinkling.

  “What’s this?” I reached forward and tentatively touched the bracelet. I knew that oftentimes just touching Simon’s toys would have an effect.

  “Look at the largest charm.”

  I turned it over and noticed an inscription on the other side. It appeared to be a small, stylized eye. Something akin to an Eye of Horus with a smooth lapis lazuli set in the center of it.

  “I’ve seen this before.” I narrowed my eyes at Simon. “A couple of times, actually.”

  “The Aegis of Dudael. Don’t say the name; don’t touch it. Don’t even look at it or it’ll drive you mad.”

  “So I’ve been told,” I responded dryly.

  “This bracelet holds several protective wards that’ll help you remain hidden as long as you don’t get all crazy with your knack.”

  “What, me?” I said distractedly as I twirled the charm in my fingers.

  “There’s more. Put it on.”

  “Okay,” I said, not at all worried that my head might catch on fire.

  Keeping my eyes on his, I undid the clasp, slid the bracelet over my wrist, and held my breath.

  The moment I had it in place, reality blossomed around me, unfurling with light that shone inside my mind. My eyes grew wide, and I blinked as I felt the gentle susurrus caress my skin, the sensation like a thousand whispers all around me.

  “Oh-kay.” I took a deep breath and felt the Wind within my soul whip around and through me. I felt it move as I breathed, heard the air sing as it passed from my lips and blended with the breath of the world.

  “Take a minute.” Simon gave me a knowing glance. “This is a little stronger than a blue jay feather.”

  “I’ll say,” I whispered.

  The power held within that feather
seemed miraculous at the time, but in all honesty, it had just reflected the Wind that already lay hidden behind my heart. This was more, so much more. If I relaxed into the tempest that stormed at the center of me, the bracelet intensified the maelstrom. It felt fiercer than I had ever experienced before, keenly aware and intelligent.

  It felt alive.

  “Thing is, you gotta remember you’re supposed to be layin’ low.” Simon narrowed his eyes at me. “Now this little trinket should help with that. Long as you don’t go around showing off your cleverness.”

  “Right.” I felt my heart pound in my chest.

  “But…” He raised one finger.

  I gazed up at him. “But?”

  “If it so happens that you get yourself found, you’ll have a little bit more mojo if you wear that little toy. It’s whatcha call a catch-22. As long as you don’t use your specialty, the Aegis will keep you hidden.” He waggled one hand. “Mostly.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Your knack’ll have a bit more oomph, therefore if anyone is actively looking for you, they’ll see you more easily.”

  “Got it.”

  “But having more oomph means you need more self-control,” he warned. “If you have any slip-ups, they’re likely to be big ones.”

  “Self-control. Yeah. That’s me.” I couldn’t help but stare around the room. It felt as if every breath I took connected me to the other people within the bar, going about their nightly business. Just the slightest action of someone walking sent tiny whirls of sensation drifting through the room.

  “This is gonna be just great,” Simon deadpanned and finished his beer with one swallow.

  “No.” I gazed at him upon the sarcasm in his tone. “I got it.”

  He sighed.

  I gave him an innocent smile.

  “You keep that on and go to your dad’s shop. You’ll stay with him all nice and safe for a few days, and then I’ll be back.”

  “And it will keep me hidden.” I traced one nail around the symbol of the eye. This plan sounded fairly easy.

  “Yes.” Simon hesitated a moment before nudging my hand from the sigil. “Mostly.” He paused. “Some. Just don’t make trouble.”

 

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