Live and Let Lie

by F. A. Bentley

  While taking in the view my eyes caught sight of something even more conspicuous than the car itself: A letter resting on the rear view mirror. I tore it open.

  Dorogoy Charlie,

  I hear the Ikonoborets is the number one club to hang out in. Not to mention learn all about the False Angel that haunts your subconscious every waking moment of your life. Also, I’m there too, so if you don’t show up soon I’ll surely die of loneliness and or boredom.

  Doom and Damnation,

  XX Lis

  PS: Keys in glove compartment. New suit in trunk. Also your credit card got ‘maxed out’ or something. Fix it.

  I crumpled up the letter and threw it as far as I could, “Stop buying tuxes and sports cars with it then!”

  Settling down in the driver seat, I let out a sigh and weighed my options. Zophie could probably use my help. It was two against one, even if the enchantress had a broken arm and the ice mage was probably bleeding out by now. However, she did abandon me without a second thought back there. Maybe Lis was the better option?

  Damn. It’s about fifty-fifty. What I needed was something to nudge me off the fence. And unfortunately, I could only think of one ‘something’ that could do that for me right now.

  I dug my hand into my back pocket and produced a small key chain. It had what looked like one of those Japanese lanterns that are popular in the Far East on it. Made of plastic. Could fit in the palm of my hand, and it had a little hole to stick candles into. Unfortunately, it also had the added demerit of having grown a soul.

  “Cho,” I said, fishing the Ferrari keys out of the glove compartment and putting them on the lantern’s ring. “Wake up.”

  He did. With a small yawn the little lantern came to life. “Greetings Master.”

  “I need your opinion on something Cho. Also don’t call me master, I’m not even a master of myself let alone you.”

  “You’re coming to me for an opinion?” Cho asked. “Weakness detected: Desperation in decisions.”

  He detected weaknesses for a living. Pretty good at it too. That being said he was right to question me. Cho didn’t exactly have a valuable input most of the time because of his total lack of a moral compass. But this decision of mine was so gray scale I thought that for once I’d humor him.

  “Cho. You’ve been listening in so far, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “So then who would you pick to go see? Nuhl or Lis?”

  “Joking?” The lantern asked. “Milady Lisistrathiel.”

  “Justify.”

  “More likely to suffer near Lisistrathiel, but less likely to die. Opposite true of the other one. Also a good chance I get to play Shogi with Lis, so it’s an easy pick for me.”

  “Of course that’d be your reasoning. I’ll think about it,” I said, and crammed the key chain ghost back into my pocket.

  I had a feeling Cho was right to pick Lis. Even if it was for the wrong reasons. This might be the only chance I’d ever get to learn more about the False Angel. Even if Nine Towers considers the renegade Lord Illusionist a bigger issue, I’ve seen the False Angel in action with my own eyes. And just who was Lis’ mysterious ‘co-worker’ for that matter?

  I cursed under my breath and got my new threads out of the trunk.

  “The False Angel’s a threat to the world. Nikita Gogol isn’t,” I said, turning on the Ferrari and revving the engine. “I never could turn down a party invitation anyways.”

  Chapter 14

  The Ikonoborets loomed before me. The parking lot was packed full on a Tuesday night. It was there that I got my first hint of just the sort of party I’d gotten an invitation to. Maseratis. Bougatis. Mercedes-Benzes. BMWs. They were everywhere. It was a regular who’s who of the discerning automobile collectors world.

  I threw on my new overcoat, ignored my bruised back, and checked the rear view mirror to make sure I’d flushed all the dust and debris from my face. Not bad. At least considering I’d smashed through two floors twenty minutes ago.

  Combing my fingers through my hair, I locked the car and made my way up the marble stairs of the building.

  The Ikonoberets looked beyond pretentious on the outside. The whole building was a grandiose snow white monolith amid the brick red and urban gray city around it. Its name, proudly placed between two massive black wings, shone in the snowy night sky like a beacon. Not even all this was enough to prepare me for what lay within though. Instead of bright lights and the heavy bass of club music I’d expected, I was met with something completely different.

  The sullen sound of a lone violin thrilled my ears as the doors closed behind me. The hush murmurs of the crowd of suits and fabulous dresses before the stage did nothing to diminish the pure beauty of the music being played.

  Carefully, methodically the violinist plucked, sawed, and coaxed his instrument into a long, winding journey for the ears and the soul. The warm notes and sheer expertise made me stop and stare, as many others around me were.

  Enthralling.

  All around me careful, artful paintings lined the walls. The discrete tables amid the ocean of placid faces had a cornucopia of food on them that looked fresh to the point of suspicion. Not even plastic decorative fruit looked that good.

  Classical music? Art appreciation? Prim people? Pristine food? Ikonoborets had all the hallmarks of a place Lisistrathiel would hate. So why the hell would she ever meet a co-worker in a place like this?

  “First time?” A soft voice intruded on my thoughts.

  I turned my head to see a young woman. Her pronounced Russian accent marking her as a native of the city. She wore dazzling golden earrings and a soft smile. She looked friendly and approachable too. The fact that her smooth red dress prominently displayed her physical assets might have had a hand in giving me an impression of her friendliness too.

  “It’s a lot to take in,” I replied.

  The woman in the red dress smirked mischievously. It seems she got my double meaning.

  “I’m Tanya. I can tell by your strong shoulders and back that you don’t shy away from hard work.”

  “Oh really. What else do my shoulders say about me?” I asked. “Daniel Hunter, by the by.”

  An alias. It payed to have different names to toss around in a business that involved hotel demolitions and surprise attacks at a moment’s notice.

  “Not just strong, but tense shoulders too, Mr. Hunter. Could use some rest and relaxation. Why don’t you keep me company for the evening? I could use some relaxation myself.”

  “I’m here on business,” I replied.

  “I can tell. Ambitious eyes are enticing, but too much work? It makes Jack dull boy.”

  I had to purse my lips. She was right, of course. When was the last time I really slept since the trouble in Venice? Since I spent even a single day genuinely relaxing instead of worrying about things falling apart the second I close my eyes for a wink of sleep? The weight of the world bent me low beneath its burden. Heavier still with the weight of my sins.

  Could I really afford to relax?

  “The music is certainly helping me to unwind, but I need to strike while the iron is hot. Business before pleasure, Tanya.”

  I drew away from the woman, but Tanya didn’t seem willing to give up that easily.

  “Wait just a minute, Mr. Hunter, I don’t think I’ve properly explained myself to you,” she said breathlessly, her hand clasped around my wrist. “You have a powerful aura. Not just in your eyes. Take a seat, spend a moment with me, and I promise you…”

  She stepped closer to me, her breath washing over my ear as she drew close.

  “You won’t regret it.”

  The words she spoke, with more than a hint of attraction and a dash of promise for fun later on, barely registered in my ears. Past Tanya’s sexy figure, I’d caught sight of something unique. Something that demanded my immediate attention if only because of it’s sheer novelty.

  I caught sight of Lis.

  In a gilded room full of fa
ncy furniture that must have cost a fortune, Lisistrathiel sat with her back to a bar. Her black dress glittered like the night sky and in her hand she held a wine glass full of kids menu apple juice.

  Typical.

  What wasn’t typical was the look of melancholy that stained her face. I’d never seen her look so miserable. Even when she was almost killed doing battle with the False Angel she had laughed it off like it was nothing.

  What could possibly have made her so…

  “Mr. Hunter?” I heard Tanya say, displeasure edging into her voice. “Did you hear a word I just said? Are you even listening?”

  “No,” I replied. “Good evening.”

  I was already halfway across the gallery on a crash course with Lis by the time Tanya recovered herself enough to be outraged. A swift curse in Russian, probably one of their more potent insults, didn’t even make me break stride.

  If you don’t show up soon I’ll surely die of loneliness and or boredom.

  Was it possible that this is what Lis was like whenever she wasn’t around me? It couldn’t be. She always acted like a kid in a candy store whenever I was in arm’s reach, even on my worst days. So then why?

  Casually walking past the window, I stopped dead in my tracks.

  A man had suddenly appeared. Without any hesitation he took a seat right next to Lisistrathiel. To call the man tall and lanky wouldn’t do him justice. He looked like a daddy-long legs that had giraffe genes spliced into him by a mad scientist. His clean shaven face and sharp chin contrasted starkly with his dull, dead fish gaze.

  The man betrayed no emotion despite sitting next to a tall glass of lava like Lis, and with his arms resting on the bar behind him, he confidently leaned his head towards her. Lisistrathiel looked away as he did, but whatever the man whispered into her ear, it worked. Her frown shifted slightly, wicked glee pulling at the edges of her lips.

  It made my stomach knot up like a noose. Weird. Usually I only grit my teeth after a heated gun fight or a high speed chase on a highway. The fight at the hotel must have really left me on edge.

  Lisistrathiel rose to her feet, the long armed giraffe of a man beside her following suit. Curling a hand over her bare shoulder, he guided Lis up a case of stairs. Probably leading to some private room deeper within the building.

  I let out the stale breath of air that I forgot I’d been holding in. That guy had to be her co-worker. But why were they so friendly? Were they really co-workers? Or did Lis put it that way just to mess with me? It took less than a nanosecond for me to decide on a course of action.

  Of course, I had to investigate.

  Storming towards the door, I tore it open and entered the formerly occupied bar room. I carefully peeked up the staircase leading up. It should be child’s play sneaking in uninvited. Then I could eavesdrop at my leisure.

  That was the plan anyways. It managed to survive in tact for about five seconds before it abruptly came apart. Just as I’d steeled myself and took the first step up, I felt a sharp object poke into my back.

  “Do anything besides exactly what I say,” spoke a feminine voice, “and I’ll melt the skin off your bones. Fireballs are my specialty.”

  Chapter 15

  “Fireballs? Very funny,” I said.

  Playing dumb was key. A mage out to kill another mage wouldn’t hesitate an instant if their mind was set on murder. However, collateral damage in the Supernatural world was looked down upon in the same way that using chlorine gas on civilians was looked down on in the Mortal world.

  Mundane Humans were off the menu. Period.

  “I didn’t know this was staff only. Maybe you can point me towards the nearest bathroom then?” I said.

  “Not gonna work, dumbass,” the girl seethed. “I’ve got you all figured out. Step down. Turn left. We’re going to go to that closet at the end of the hall.”

  I dropped the act. “Excellent. I haven’t gotten a girl into a janitor’s closet since high school. We should trade names before we make out though.”

  “Shut your face or I’ll sear it shut,” the woman replied.

  The mystery woman seemed ever so slightly on edge. Even if you ignore the fact that she was poking a wand into my back. The sickly sweet smell of her perfume mixed with the oppressive scent of pooled magic.

  Whoever this woman was, she was no pushover.

  Wrenching the door open, my interrogator pushed me into the closet. She turned on the solitary light bulb hanging from a string and kept her wand trained on me at all times. When I finally dared to turn around, I got my first good look at her chest.

  Sorry. Normally I size up the entirety of whoever wants to kill me. The slightest detail could be turned into an advantage in dangerous situations like this, but you see, it was difficult to look at any part of her that wasn’t chest. Her breasts were huge. Colossal. Economy sized. Zeppelin rivaling. They were kept in precarious check only by her pure white gown and what I can only assume to be levitation spells constantly maintained beneath her boobs to keep them perky.

  It was only vaguely that I noted her hair was bleached blonde and her eyes baby blue. Between the white dress and the scowl of barely restrained fury her face was contorted into, she looked a little like a jilted bride.

  “What’s that bitch’s name?” she spat, prodding her wand into my chest for emphasis.

  “I don’t follow,” I replied.

  “Don’t try to play dumb. Don’t you dare. You know her. That cheap party girl. That call girl.”

  It wasn’t easy keeping my eyes from rolling. “I have no idea who you’re talking about. Are you really going to put me in an urn because of something I have nothing to do with? Leave me out of whatever lover’s quarrel you’re in.”

  A cruel grin widened on the woman in white’s face. “There ain’t gonna be nothing to put in an urn when I’m done with you. Talk or die.”

  My smile evaporated. The glimmer in her eyes and her choice of words made me realize that she was pretty serious about all this. I cut the crap.

  “Why don’t you describe this woman to me then,” I suggested.

  “Her. With black hair. All over my man like a cheap hooker looking for a sugar daddy. Acting oh so innocent. And meek. Who does she think she’s fooling?”

  I kept my lips strategically shut. Just talking about this mystery man snatcher had left her rattled. Her knuckles were pale white from crushing her wand in her fist so hard.

  “Look. This is Russia. Lots of girls with black hair, right? Why the hell do you think I have anything to do with any of this anyways?” I asked.

  The woman fixed her eyes on mine before replying. “Because you were watching her while I was watching my man.”

  Realization washed over me like a cold shower. Oh. She’s talking about Lis. She thinks Lisistrathiel snatched up her--

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, a disdainful laugh pouring out of my throat.

  “What?” the woman demanded, her eyes filling to the brim with rage.

  “That gangly japanese spider crab in a tux was all over Lis,” I continued, my voice steadily rising in volume. “She wanted nothing to do with him, and you’re spinning it like she ambushed him wearing nothing but a pair of thigh highs and brandishing a bottle of champagne. Are you in denial? Are you literally blind, or just figuratively?”

  “Shut your damn face,” she snarled. “Tru would never show interest in a cheap flirt like this ‘Lis’ of yours. She must have orphans hostage, or cast a spell on him to comply.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said, caking on the sarcasm, “And puppies in the trunk of her diabolical drop top ride that she’s planning to drown unless this Tru of yours takes her on a date. Let me clue you in sweet cheeks, because you seem to be in the dark: Lis doesn’t need a single damn prop to get a guy that looks like a shaved bat to worship the ground she walks on.”

  “You piece of shit! Tru is beyond--”

  The second miss jilted bride brought her hands up to emphasize her yelling, I stepped
forward, caught her wrist and slapped the wand out of her hand.

  Disarmingly charming. That’s me.

  “Getting angry is a quick and easy way of losing control of the situation,” I said.

  Opening her palm, the woman in white held her hand up to my face as latent magics focused into a deadly nexus. I threw myself backwards just in time to avoid the brilliant blast of fiery light that shot out of her hand. Hopefully I still had eyebrows.

  “I think I just thought up an easy fix to this whole mess,” the woman said, “Kill you. Kill the bitch. Problem solved.”

  Not good. It was nothing short of a tour de force for a wizard to cast such powerful magic without a focusing device. There was a reason why sorcerers kept staffs, rods, orbs and wands on hand in an age where you get weird looks for doing so. Without a wand the average wizard becomes a stage magician. God forbid the woman I disarm be normal. That blast of light left a hole through the wall. Disintegrated the plumbing behind it too.

  I had to act fast. Pushing myself off of the ground, I charged at her hard and fast. If I don’t get up close and personal quickly she’ll turn my tuxedo into tar. The jilted bride brought back a fist, white fire springing to life around it in response.

  And then suddenly, a knock on the door stopped us dead in our tracks. Collateral.

  Glaring daggers, never taking our eyes off each other, the woman in white inched towards the door, turned the knob, and opened it. An unassuming, well dressed man with a cue ball for a head was bowing politely on the other side.

  “I beg your pardon, Ms. Karina Bonfoy and Mr. Charles Locke?” he asked. “I was instructed to find you in this closet.”

  Karina’s eyes and mine alike turned to the butler, who offered us each a letter. Tearing mine open, I found an official looking piece of paper with the words ‘Cordially Invited’ written on the front in broad cursive.

  “Mr. Abla, the owner of this fine establishment, has expressed his desire for the two of you to meet with him in his private lounge. Shall I inform him of your attendance?”