by C. B. Miller
Her body was spring-loaded like a gazelle that wanted to run, or maybe a tigress about ready to pounce. She hesitated for a moment before she nodded, and her hand relaxed in mine.
“Now, tell me everything you can about this Colin guy.”
Shirene took a moment to collect her thoughts and compose herself. Sitting in silence for a minute or so, she continued softly.
“He’s young, Caucasian, about average height and weight. His last name is… It’s....“ She looked up at me in wide-eyed terror . “I can’t remember. I- I can kind of remember what he looked like, but he’s Colin. Just Colin. I’m sorry.”
OK, maybe the slacker vampire wasn’t untalented. Just a slacker. It also means that I’m not going to get anything more useful out of her about him.
“ Do you remember where you met him at?”
Shirene’s face lit up, “Yes! It’s kind of funny, but we met him at the Ribfest.”
She frowned as all the blood drained out of my face.
“Something wrong?”
I shook my head and buried the gnawing worry quickly growing in my mind. “No, I just didn’t think you liked ribs.” I lied.
I moved the conversation back to small talk for a few minutes before I reminded her that I was still on the clock and needed to get back to work. Shirene gave me her new number, and I promised to update her on Colin, even if I didn’t find out anything useful or of note. She insisted on hugging again when we parted, and as she returned to her companions, I stole a look to memorize each of their faces. I didn’t recognize a single one of them. I turned and walked out of The Great Divide with my phone in hand and dialed my top contact.
I came here for information, but now I have more questions.
Ribfest happens during the day. What kind of creature drains blood and can walk in the sun?
Chapter Six
Stanley’s was a tiny store front tucked in between a barber shop and Mexican restaurant. Today, the little sign in the window read “OPEN, if you dare to learn.” Every time I came here, his signs had a different message about learning or some tidbit of obscure knowledge. Stanley wasn’t the oldest being in town, but he felt he was the wisest.
Stanley is a ghost and not like in some special ops sort of way. A legitimate member of the incorporeal undead. Or the living deceased. Not sure what to call him, really, and drawing attention to his lack of vitals is considered to be impolite. He died during the World’s Fair in Chicago, killed by a serial killer. Unlike the famous World’s Fair killer, Stanley’s murderer got away with his killings, having worked his way through the immigrant and colored populations. And like most ghosts, he had a difficult time adjusting to modern ways. Stanley did adopt things he liked and approved of, adopting the woman’s suffrage and civil rights platforms.
I girded myself for the added ‘sirs’ and meandering conversation points necessary when interacting with him.
Stanley’s existence was kind of a sticky reminder for Eden and her kind that ghosts do exist and vengeful spirits can range from annoying to deadly. Depending on what is keeping them bound to the mortal plane some are powerful enough to tactically move things like opening doors during the day or moving blinds. (Vampire) Horror stories abound with stories of the spirits of victims exacting their revenge on unwitting vampires. The easiest way to create a ghost? A violent death, bingo! And since vampires tend to kill a lot of people over the years in often very violent ways, they have a greater chance of running into a vengeful ghost than probably any other supernatural being out there. Granted, ghosts are more likely to see and interact with other ghosts, so it's not a huge concern, but it does happen. I guess they have some sort of the whole afterlife that is like a purgatory on steroids that keeps them pretty busy. No one has quite figured out why the heck he is still haunting his shop, and for an apparition, he manifests quite regularly. Although almost universally to the supernatural beings. A few of those well versed in the other side have attempted to divine what is keeping him bound to his shop. Two disappeared completely, another one was a vampire that went mad and ran out in the sun the next morning, and the last attempt was made by a vampire that hasn’t spoken a word in over three years since the attempt. She will feed if prompted but otherwise is unresponsive. Her master is hopeful she will recover in a decade or two, so he has kept her from withering away into nothing thus far.
I opened the front door, and the musty smell of old upholstery and leather hit me. It was dimly lit by incandescent lights and the few stray sunbeams that managed to get through the meager windows at the front of the store. The place was packed with antiques that most people would simply call old. Narrow pathways carved through the piles and collections of odds and ends; chairs, desks, lamps, mannequins, and various other nick-nacks made up the majority of the wares sold here. They were all old things I had a hard time calling antiquities. I slowed my pace as I walked past my favorite part of the shop. Each of the three, six-foot wide bookcases nearly touched the ceiling and were packed with old and rare books. Most were for sale, while a special few were available to read in a special backroom for a price. One of these days, I was going to have enough free time and green to explore those tomes.
Today was not that day.
Annie looked up from her phone and waved at me from the cash register at the back. “Hey Kaedin, what brings you in so early?”
“I’ve come for my spear lesson,” I called out and leaned on the back of her desk.
She laughed, “Har har har, joker. This is all gym-time, not that ninja-fu you do.”
“I get it. I’m not from Wakanda, or Arcadia, so none of those inner door secrets.” I winked at her, and she blushed, turning her deep charcoal skin into almost pure darkness.
I knew three things about Annie. She was a direct descent of Stanley’s. She was wicked smart and very aware of the supernatural scene in Chicago. When I met her for the first time, I thought she was a Fae warrior, and I wasn’t going to lose out on the opportunity to learn more moves from another badass, if anything like Fae existed. Her confident, no-nonsense aura turned out to be the result of some stellar parenting and dealing with Stanley from a young age. She was an attractive black woman in maybe her early thirties with an athletic build that spoke of many hours playing tennis. I had no idea if she actually played, but she was strong and solid. She also had cropped her hair close to her head, nearly bald, but it worked very well with her features as she could have easily fit in with the warrior women of Wakanda.
Stanley was very big on manners and decorum, actually. Treat ladies with respect, dress your best, and most importantly, keep your word.
“Oh, I’m sure there are secrets left for you to uncover.” She gave me a wink and put her hands on the counter as she stood, “I assume you’re here to see my old man?”
“That I am. He’s holding on to something for my patron, and she sent me to collect it for her.”
Annie’s eyebrow raised at that, but she didn’t push me for more details. While Stanley haunted and owned the shop, the living did the work. Turns out moving objects takes a tremendous amount of energy for ghosts, so they don’t like to do it often. This is the real reason that ghosts rarely interact with people. The living simply aren’t worth the effort most of the time.
“Let me see if he’s available.” She turned and walked into the backroom.
I waited at the counter, looking around the shop for anything of interest, and I found myself drawn back to the bookcases. I couldn’t make out any of the titles from across the room, and the urge to go look at them while no one was looking nearly overwhelmed me.
Annie walked back to the counter, and Stanley strolled out behind her. Stanley was a fine gentleman of the time, a caucasian man around five foot five with a beautiful handlebar mustache and an impeccable suit; his steel-gray tie made a stark contrast to the flashing red of his vest, white undershirt, and the gray suit jacket and pants. Despite the cut and styling of his suit having gone out of style over a hundred years ago, he did
n’t look out of place until he vanished in mid-step to reappear a few steps away. He glitched a few more times before reaching the counter.
“What do we have here?” Stanley beamed with a smile.
“How are you doing today, fine sir?” I replied, making sure to match his smile.
“I am doing well, son. It appears that the weather is finally agreeing with my joints for a change. Thank you for asking. Annie tells me that you are here to pick up a certain parcel? Maybe I can convince you to pick up a fine addition to your domicile as well?” Stanley flashed me a pearly white grin and tilted his head slightly. He lifted a hand to point at an object behind me.
His smile faded as I frowned and shook my head. “Regretfully, it’s just the pick up today, good sir. I believe that you have a piece for Ms. Savage that I have been sent to acquire. She is eager to take possession.” I said.
Stanley took one more glance behind me and sighed. “That is too bad. Hopefully, next time your business here will involve something that you desire. Maybe next time, Ms. Savage could stop in herself. We have extended our store hours recently, and I would love the opportunity to chat with her again.”
I gave him a conspiratorial wink, “I will pass along your message when I return.” The shop sold antiques of all types, and Stanley’s cache of magical items was his primary source of income. He must have something Eden would find interesting.
Rumors and fables concerning the whereabouts of mythical objects all hold a hint of truth, and ghosts have access to firsthand accounts. Other ghosts that were either around when they were lost, or more often, ghosts that followed the leads unsuccessfully. Stanley spent much of his time in the realm of the living, which, combined with modern media and the internet, allowed him to trade information with beings on the other side of the Veil. He was a salesman that knew the value of his wares and how much his potential customers might be willing to pay. What a ghost could possibly want is beyond me, but Sunshine mentioned once that the agreement between Eden and Stanley was ‘an expensive arrangement.’
Stanley looked pleased, but I wasn’t about to commit her to specific timelines. Stanley had a reputation for scheduling meetings without confirming everyone’s availability and then getting mad about it. “I am sure you have heard about some of the recent events? She may not be readily accessible for some time still.”
“Ahh, yes, she has a penchant for vulgar displays of power. Just an observation, my good friend. It is good that there are people in the world who will still act when it is necessary. All the hand ringing and false words is what lets the real monsters do their dirty work unopposed.” Stanley winked at me. “Keep that in mind, my young friend.” With a flourish, he spun around and beckoned me to follow him into the backroom. Annie and I shared a grin at Stanley’s little dramatic performance before I followed him.
What the hell was he talking about? I meant all the disappearances. What did Annie and Stanley know that I didn’t?
The backroom hadn’t changed much since the last time I was here. It was a hoarder’s paradise. A path so narrow I had to walk sideways through wove its way through walls of things that made up his inventory. Everything was stacked precariously, and for a moment, I was afraid if I bumped anything, the entire room would collapse and bury me. Stanley made a show of avoiding touching the walls of junk and apologizing for the mess. I stepped over a small wall of books in the doorway to his office and into another world. Everything inside the room was in pristine condition, and there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere to be found. Three plush chairs sat in front of the mahogany desk that dominated the room, which was free of clutter other than three ledgers and an antique fountain pen. I took a seat in the middle chair at Stanley’s direction and waited while he consulted the center ledger.
He gently closed the leather-bound tome and folded his hands into a temple as he sat down behind the desk to face me.
“When Ms. Eden contacted me about acquiring this particular piece, I was surprised at how vexing the process ended up being. It took a good many months and considerable effort, but as it should come as no surprise, I was indeed able to retrieve it. Please pass my thanks on to Eden for her continued patience with the acquisition.” Stanley leaned forward in his chair and folded his fingers together. “Now there is one small wrinkle that we need to address before I can transfer ownership to you.”
“Ownership? I’m just picking it up for her. I can sign for it or whatever, but at the end of the day, this thing is hers.”
Stanley leaned back in his chair, the sides of his mouth twisted up into a half-smile like a parent watching their child do a new thing for the first time. He kept his paternal expression as he continued, “The amulet is not exactly the type of rare antiquity shipped across terra firma in a truck, plane, or ship. It has rules. Ms. Eden should have briefed you. My apologies. I thought you knew. I assume you know nothing of the amulet’s background then?”
No. But that’s not surprising either. Eden doesn’t give history lessons, only enough information to keep me from getting killed.
“Unfortunately, good, I was given only a little bit of information. She said that I might find this object of use.”
Stanley’s face lit up as he leaned in excitedly. “I see. Well, I would be doing you a disservice if I didn’t explain its history. You see Ixfet was a Babylonian sorcerer, and it was in his thirty-second year that...”
I cut him off before he went full steam into one of his history lessons. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear about some mage that died a very long time ago, nor did I have the time. Holding up my hand and clearing my throat. “appreciate the in-depth research you have done for this project, but sadly there are other pressing matters that I must attend to. I really should be heading out, so if we could get to the part about the transfer of ownership?”
The spark in his eyes died, and his entire body turned translucent. “Ah. Yes, very well then. Let me find the amulet.” He opened a drawer and held up the ugliest necklace I had ever laid my eyes on.
A piece of twisted copper and shell, mixed with a few teeth from something small and carnivorous, dangled from a chain made of thick, misshapen links from his hand. The entire thing looked like it weighed three or four pounds. I had no idea why Eden wanted this thing unless it was to destroy it and save the world from its hideousness.
Stanley frowned at my sour look and set it on the desk. " Yes, it is not the most well crafted or prettiest of ancient antiquities. Still, it does have a certain charm about it, I guess, but its real value is in its link to the past. Mundane history will tell you about how this was found during an archaeological dig, and it’s what you won’t read in those accounts that’s fascinating.”
I’m not getting out of here without a story.
“I would appreciate hearing a condensed version of the story.” I motioned for him to continue and relaxed deeper into the chair.
“are how the team that found it was comprised of thirteen vampires. This amulet and only one of the vampires were all that survived the depths of what they uncovered in Ixfet’s tomb. You heard me correctly. Thirteen vampires all exploring an ancient mage’s tomb, and only one made it out. Was it betrayal? Were there traps and wards? I do wish you had more time so I could relate to its tale. There are riveting details of great import.”
The way he portrayed its history like it was some epic fantasy adventure sent a chill down my spine, but Stanley was a salesman first and foremost. This wouldn’t be the first time he embellished details to one of his stories. “Is this thing going to drive me insane or cause some type of personal harm in the immediate future? I’d prefer not to grow tentacles or a third eye if at all possible.
“No, no, no. You will be fine for quite some time. There’s nothing to worry about in the near future, my boy.” Pulling out a long piece of vellum from the desk, he laid it next to the amulet. The page was covered in some script I didn’t recognize, and a small splotch of dried blood marked the bottom.
“Wait? Near f
uture? What do yo-”
“Like you said, Mr. Jones, you are busy, and I’m afraid you might draw incorrect conclusions about the amulet if I give you specific details out of context. Eden is aware of its … unique properties, and I’m sure you’ll be fine until you return it to her care. Please, come back when you have time because you are about to join a very small group of people.” A mischievous grin formed on Stanley’s face, and he flickered in and out of this reality. A moment later, he regained his solid appearance and was holding a small obsidian blade. He held it up to the light, examining the blade carefully before he slid it across the table.
“Now, if you would please prick your finger and make your mark right here.” Stanley pointed to a spot below the blood on the vellum. Next to it, more of the strange script appeared like someone or something I couldn’t see was writing new words.
I hesitated for a moment before picking up the blade. I ran the obsidian blade across my thumb, pulling it away to examine the knife when it failed to break the skin. Pressing the dull blade into my flesh, it bit deep, and blood gushed out across the blade. Pain wracked me, bringing tears to my eyes as I lifted the edge from the wound. I pressed the bloody gash to the page, and white spots filled my vision as agony consumed my senses. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out
I sucked in a ragged gasp of air, and then it was over, and I was sitting back in the chair. The obsidian blade was clean, as was my thumb, and the only evidence of the cut was a tiny, jagged scar that ran through the tip of my thumb. I could feel the amulet pulsing a few feet away from me on the desk. I looked up at it, half-expecting it to throb like a heart on the desk, and it gave me a small sense of relief to see it sit there cold and motionless.
That doesn’t feel right. I am beginning to understand why Eden hates magic.