by W H Lock
"There's something else you gotta know."
"What? Does Foxy the Fox have a sidekick? Is it Loup the Wolf? Chien the Dog?”
George’s cousin was about to respond when blue-eyes interrupted him again.
“No! Wait! I’ve got one more: Chat the Cat?"
"Word came from Down Stairs that the guy you're after wasn't to be touched."
"What?"
"The guy you marked? He's protected by the Devil himself. Hands off. Renard works for one of the Princes of Hell. He got sent to fix the problem."
"Graf works with the Princes?"
Vinnie shrugged. "Graf works with money. If you're paying, he's happy. But he said the same thing. If we have anything going with this guy, we had to walk away from it. Or he'd eat us."
"And you didn't think to tell me?"
"Hey, you were out of town," Vinnie said with a shrug.
The young man glared at Vinnie for a long time. Then, without a word or signal between them, the three turned and walked to the front of the bar. The young man in the middle turned back to look at the pub.
"Do not fuck with my team or me. Do you hear that?"
The punks nodded. The Asian woman waved her hands in the air as if she were scrubbing something from in front of her. The fiery net that had held everyone still flared up again. The lines faded, leaving red lines in George's vision. The young man held up his hand. At the moment the music swelled to a triumphant crescendo, he snapped his fingers.
George watched as the explosion happened in reversed time. The shard pulled itself out of the dart board. The wooden shrapnel flipped and spun as it rolled back to the door. The door reassembled itself back into shape. The glass fused back together and set itself back into its frame to become a window again. The door banged shut, popped back open, and then came to a rest just an inch away from being closed. Just like it always had before. George's hand trembled as he pulled a few bills out of his pocket. Without a word, he nodded to a visibly shook Carl and made his way out of the bar. Maybe tonight was a good night to spend at home even if his wife was there.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Quinn leaned back into the booth. "The key to a good illusion, Rube, is theatricality."
Rube nodded and made room for Karen and Elly as they slid in with Quinn. Rube had gotten them a large circular booth at the bar he, Eno, and Freddy had frequented since coming to Savannah.
"As long as you keep their attention focused on the things you want them to look at, you can get away with just about anything," Quinn said as he leaned back into the seat. He grinned at Rube. "Even faking your own death."
"Really?"
Quinn nodded. "Sure. But if you're going to do something like that, you gotta go big. Bigger than the bar. You gotta make'em believe it."
Elly looked at Quinn and said, "Have you done anything like that before?"
Quinn shrugged and said, "Not yet. But I know someone who has. You have to grab their attention with the illusion so you can slip away. That's the key part."
"Who?"
Quinn cocked an eyebrow and said, "Who what?"
"Who faked their death?" Elly asked.
Quinn looked from side to side and then leaned forward. "Can you keep a secret?"
"Of course," Elly said.
"So can I," Quinn said with a laugh and settled back into the booth. He picked up the list of songs. He broke down laughing again. “I’m sorry. It’s just, Fox the Fox. Who does that? How do they get anything done with a name like that? I’d laugh every time I had to talk to them. Although.” Quinn turned serious for a moment. “If I were picking a name to work under as a hitman from Hell, I’d go with something ominous. Something a little sinister. Like, The Red Hand. Yeah! Quinn the Red Handed. Get it?”
“Oh, I get it,” Elly said and then rolled her eyes at Quinn.
Quinn looked around the place, and said, “So, this was Fred's favorite place, huh?”
“Yeah.” Rube nodded. "He, Eno, and I came here every couple of nights for Karaoke and bowling. I figure we all take a turn singing. You know. To like remember him and stuff." Rube sniffed and pushed at the corner of his nose.
Everyone nodded quietly.
After a moment, Rube said, "Why is this dagger so important, Quinn? You ain't never said why we're doing what we're doing."
"I'm sorry. I can't tell you. But you'll have to trust me, Rube. We're being paid a lot to do this. It's like the job we pulled in LA. There's some stuff going on that it's better I don't tell you. Okay?"
"But we've lost Freddy. And how much are they going to pay us? This will probably cost more to pull off than they could make with the dagger," Karen said. "This doesn't make a lot of sense."
“A lot of things don’t make sense, Karen,” Quinn said with a shrug. “Who uses the name the Fox if their first name is Renard?”
A blonde woman, dressed in a red pencil skirt and matching jacket over a cream silk blouse came to a stop in front of their table. "Why is it, Quinn,” she said in a refined British accent. “That I can walk into the tackiest bar in any city and find you there?"
"Delilah!?!" Quinn. His jaw dropped at the site of the blonde woman standing across the table from him. "What are you doing? Here? In Savannah?!?" Quinn looked at the rest of the team at the table. He bounced in his seat and gestured to the woman standing in front of them, he said, “Guys! It’s Del!”
"I was in town for a job, but then I saw you." Del smiled only at Quinn. "Karen," Del said. "It's so nice to see you again." The blond British woman's eyes flicked over Karen. "I see you're still wearing blue jeans and blazer. Well, you have always been so brave in your fashion. I am glad to see that trend continues."
Karen said nothing and only smiled perfunctorily.
"And who's your charming friend," Del turned her sights on Elly.
"That's Elly Barnes. She's a witch. She's got a raven! Elly, this is Delilah Saint-James. But you can just call her Del."
"How wonderful. I must say, you look fantastic," Del said. "It's not often you find someone wearing something from the early two-thousands, but you are working it, my dear. Especially the work boots and corset. On anyone else, they're just cumbersome, but on you they're perfect."
"Wow," was all that Elly had to say.
Del turned back to Quinn and said, "But you didn't answer, poppet. What are you doing in town, how much money is involved, and how can I get a piece of it?"
"How about we talk about that, Del?" Quinn grinned like a sly fox. He slid out of the circular booth. "Guys, I'll catch up with you on the morning. Oh, and tonight is all on me." He turned away from Del just long enough to toss a credit card on the table.
Elly, Karen, and Rube watched Quinn and Del walk out of the Karaoke bar.
When the doors to the karaoke club closed, Karen looked at Elly and said, "I can't stand that half Kitsune, half British bitch."
"Word," Elly said in agreement.
"Hey, either one of you want to go sing something from Grease with me? Freddy loved Grease; he made me watch it like five times. So I figure I should do one."
Elly put her hand on Rube's shoulder. "I'd love to, Rube. Did you want to do Summer Nights or You're The One That I Want?"
"They both sound good to me, Ms. Elly. I'll let you decide," Rube said.
"Fair enough, Rube," Elly said. She threw her arm over his shoulders and gave Rube a squeeze. They walked up to the stage. As they made their way through the crowd, Elly stared at the door with a fierce intensity. As if she were giving orders to someone on the other side of the wall with just her eyes.
Outside, Midnight jumped up in surprise. He eyeballed the front of the club from his perch on a nearby streetlamp. He watched Quinn and a red-haired woman exit the club. Midnight watched as a black town car that had been waiting in the parking lot pulled forward to pick them up. The raven felt the command from his mistress to follow. He obeyed. He took to the air and followed the black car. He did so with no real effort because no one notices a bird foll
owing a car.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Quinn looked out of the window from the back seat of the car that Del had ordered for them. Del reached out and ran her fingers through his hair. Quinn felt doubt about his plan grow in his gut. Doubt was something he wasn't used to experiencing. He took a deep sigh and tried to let uncertainty go. As she stroked his hair, the feeling only grew.
"Maybe we should call it off," Del said as if she could see the doubt in his mind. "Your heart isn't in this, dear. I can see it in that little frown you make when you're upset." She unbuckled her seatbelt and slid across the car to snuggle in close to Quinn. She stroked his hair reassuringly.
"Maybe you're right," Quinn said.
She rubbed her nose against the side of Quinn's head as she snaked her arms around him. She drew him in to whisper more in his ear. "We're probably spending more to get the dagger than we'll make from selling it. Why not cut our losses and go to France? It's simply lovely this time of year. I have a chateau on Lake Bourget in Savoie. We'll wake up every morning, the staff will make us breakfast, and we'll fuck all day long. How does that sound?"
Quinn closed his eyes and leaned into her embrace. The thought of throwing it all away and living in France with Del sounded like the right thing to do. When they had been younger, that was the kind of life they had talked about living. They had both wanted the small castle, the servants, and the life of leisure.
"There's a waterfall," she whispered into his ear.
"A waterfall?" Quinn could hear the sound of water and smell the honeysuckle.
"There’s even a turret."
"What?"
"The estate built in the twelfth century. It was a watch tower of some sort. Then a rich bastard bought it because he wanted a hunting lodge for him, his buddies, and their servants. Oh, and horses. We can sit in the tower at lunch and watch over the lake. It's amazing, Quinn. Just you and me. You haven't lived until you have a quail for dinner you hunted from a forest you own."
"Wow. How much did something like that cost you?"
"Not as much as you'd think, love," Del said in a quiet and enticing whisper. "Rather cheap, actually. And it can all be yours, Quinn. Come with me, and you can have whatever you want."
Quinn nodded. It would be so easy to let this go. To let go of the tight ball he kept in his chest ever since he'd seen the pictures in LA. He could live in luxury with Delilah in France. But then he opened his eyes. He shook his head to clear out the thoughts of walking away from the job. "No," he said. "I have to get that dagger."
"What's so important about it? Why are we doing this?" Her hand stroked the side of his head and ran through his hair.
The feeling of doubt over what he was doing returned, stronger this time. "Do you really want to know? The money isn't enough for you?"
"What's so important about the dagger, Quinn? Why it? Why you? Why now?"
"Because the bankroll thinks the dagger is part of a puzzle to end the world and they want it stopped."
"What?"
"Yeah," Quinn said. "Bankroll is convinced that this dagger is part of a set and someone will steal it to end the world."
"What else does bankroll know about this dagger? Is that why you're doing this? How do you know they won't be ending the world instead of the other team after this dagger?"
Quinn shrugged and said, "Is it important? Someone is paying me to steal something. I win."
"What makes you think bankroll isn't interested in ending the world?"
"None of its real, Del. This is a game. A con. No one is dumb enough to end a world they’re living in. I know it. Bankroll doesn't, but that doesn't matter does it? It’s a game that I win and everyone else loses. I get paid to steal a dagger. I steal it before anyone else. I do it better than anyone else. When I’m done they’ll be talking about how amazing this was. In this game, all I do is win." Quinn knew he was one of the best in the world. He knew he'd have the dagger before long. And, more importantly, Gwen and Oscar would learn what it's like to be standing in a dark warehouse waiting for something and someone that would never arrive.
Del chewed on a fingernail and looked out the window. Before she could say anything further, the car came to a stop outside of a townhouse. Del grabbed Quinn by the hand and pulled him out of the car with a grin. She pulled him into her arms, wrapping them around his waist and squeezing. She caught his breath with a kiss.
Quinn responded by kissing her just as hard back. When they broke, he looked at the townhouse and said, "You rented this place? It's nice!"
"It belongs to my boss. He has a bunch of property around the world. When I travel, he lets me use them. You'll love it, Quinn. Silk sheets!" She pulled him along, deeper into the shadows.
"Sounds like a great idea," Quinn said as he followed her into darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Quinn tapped out a fast beat on the table to get everyone's attention. They had been quietly arguing among themselves, having broken off into pairs that were getting in each other's faces. They continued arguing with each other, none of them looking at Quinn. Quinn snapped his fingers. His magical circle flared into existence and let loose with an air horn blast.
Everyone stopped talking.
"Look," Quinn said in the sudden quiet. "I know things seem like they've gone off the rails--"
"Freddy's dead, Quinn," Eno said. "And we don't know who or where this Renard jackass is. You sent a message and got a name. Good fucking job. Now what? What good did it do? And you didn't come back with whatever book you were after! What the fuck is going on here?"
"Yeah!" Karen said. She sat near Eno, her arms crossed in front of her. "This shit is all over the place. You're going off to Austin or wherever to get whatever and I've had it!"
"Yeah!" Eno said. "Freddy's dead, Quinn. Max has a half-assed dagger that wouldn't fool a kindergartner; we still don't know crap about the mark, or that club. And we're supposed to be getting Confederate gold out of this? Not fucking likely!"
"You know, Quinn," Rube said as he leaned forward, "I don't like talking like this, but they got a point. Things ain't going well. What's the plan here? Last time you had a plan. But now? Now you're just running around without knowing what's coming next."
Quinn crossed his arms across his chest, ducked his head down as he listened to the team talk. Elly said nothing but leaned back in her seat. Max hugged himself and did his best to sink into his chair.
Quinn tapped his fingers on his crossed arms. He nodded and said. "Look. I get it. Things have gone horribly wrong. Freddy's gone. It doesn't seem like we're anywhere near where we need to be on this." Quinn looked at Rube and said, "And thank you for being so honest. But you're going to have to trust me. I've got this."
Quinn stepped back from the table and walked around it. He paused at each person, taking a moment to look each one of them in the eye as he walked around the table. No one could meet his eyes.
Quinn looked at Karen, "Haven't I always come through before? Just when everything seemed like it was spinning out of control, haven't I always put it back together?"
Karen shrugged and looked away.
"Max. How many times have I made it happen? Huh? Huh?" Quinn pointed at the older man.
Max half shrugged, and half nodded in encouragement. Mostly, he did his best to hide from everyone’s sight.
"I know this looks impossible. I get that. But I want you guys to think about how amazing this will be once we're done. People will be talking about how epic this con was for years and years from now. I need you to stick with me a little longer."
Everyone looked down at the table and shuffled their feet. Karen turned to the table and faced Quinn.
"Eno. Someone took out Freddy to scare us off. If we pack up now, they win. I can't have that. All I do is win. And running away now wouldn't be winning. If you want to stick it to Foxy McFoxface, then we steal the dagger."
Eno didn't look up, but he did nod.
"And I'm willing to bet when we get that
dagger, Renard will try to make a straight play for one of us. If it was me, I’d hit us as soon as I walk out of Gartrell’s house with the dagger in hand. When that happens, Eno, pal, I promise you’ll get first crack at them."
Eno uncrossed his arms. He nodded again.
The lights in the room darkened, and subtle stirring music played softly in the background.
"Team. I know it's been hard. We have all faced losses in this. We've all had to suffer. But it will be worth it. I promise. We will get that Dagger. We will walk out of here with stacks of gold. When people talk about what happened here, they'll speak in hushed tones and awed voices."
The team looked up at Quinn, fully on board.
"Let’s get focused on the job. What happened to Freddy? Elly?"
Elly cleared her throat and said, "After karaoke last night, I made contact with the local PD last night. I was able to get a copy of the crime scene file. The stake from Freddy was made by society but here's the thing; it wasn't made for Freddy."
"What?" Quinn looked at Elly with a baffled look. "I thought they carved fancy stakes. How can they tell this wasn’t meant for Freddy?”
Elly nodded. She handed out pictures of the stake that had been in Freddy's chest. "They make them for the specific vampire. They carve runes into the stake. The runes name the vampire and list other attributes. Basically, everything they know about the vampire gets carved into the stake. They believe that it helps ground the body to the earth and release their soul to Hell."
"Ew," Rube said.
Elly spun one of the pictures around and pointed to the stake. "They take a lot of pride in these things. Each society has a unique mark they carve in the stake. That way they can claim the kill."
"Yeah," Eno said. "They do the same dumb shit with werewolves but with silver.”
Karen pulled the picture closer to get a good look at it. She started taking notes in her small book.