by Mia Strange
It was the difference he would say, of buying, ‘free-range’ or ‘organically grown.’ Just like shopping in the supermarkets of once upon a time. I didn’t know how I felt about comparing zombies to a grocery store. As long as they didn’t show up at auction like the rib-eye steaks I’d seen in pictures, wrapped in tight plastic film with a barcode stamped on their ass, I guess I could deal with the analogy.
It was the, ‘organically grown’ Dark worried most about. Soon, he said, zombies would outnumber humans. And that could very well speed up his already ticking, tattooed clock.
The zombie auction was far and away my least favorite venue. But with our show less than fifty minutes away, tonight I was apparently the designated, Academy Wrangler. A job usually reserved for Turk. He was the one who moved with ease around these events, riding herd on straggling Academy members, making sure we were all gathered in time when the curtain went up. But as we all knew, ‘Academy Wrangler’ was code for, ‘Find Jin.’
Turk had the bulk and the build to deal with these crowds. No one messed with him. And the fact that he usually had a Black Panther or Siberian Tiger on leash helped. But tonight, it was Kong, Turk’s rogue tattooed monkey that refused to obey magic and stay as Turk liked to call it, ‘in skin.’ Kong no longer returned to his home, a place of honor on Turk’s neck and shoulder. Nope, he was now a living breathing monkey that took what he wanted, whenever he wanted. And that had caused a colossal change in plans.
Kong was part of Turk’s menagerie of magical tattoos. But from the moment Dr. Dark had pulled into Seattle’s King Street Station, the spells and black magic that permeated the place had razed havoc with Turk’s magic. Tonight, Kong had stolen a prize hybrid apple from a vendor, and before Turk could give it back, it was eaten.
By both of them.
Until showtime, Turk and Kong had to keep a low profile. So here I was, looking for the one member who would help me find Jin the fastest. The Bone Man.
As I scanned the crowd, I thought about how Kong and trouble go hand in hand. Too bad the magic at The King Street Station was still in play. There had been no way to send the little klepto, to time out.
Pushing my way through the too-damn-big crowd, I pulled my hoodie over my nose. I didn’t know what smelled worse, the rot of a zombie, or the mass of unwashed bodies.
And there was a lot of both.
Just because the general public wasn’t invited, didn’t mean they couldn’t get in.
Trying to get a better view of the auction stage, I worked my way to the side and climbed up on cinderblocks. If The Bone Man was anywhere in this tent, he’d be front and center, close to the stage. I squinted into the crowd. No luck. Come on, how hard could it be to spot a six-foot-seven guy with white, ankle-length hair?
“Can I help you, Miss?” A voice of authority boomed through the crowd. I couldn’t see who had spoken, but I had a pretty good idea. A Brass Hat weaved his way through the mass of people. The huge man carried a club, a three-foot-long hickory stick that was used on the rails for brake work. He, however, was using his to break something else entirely. Heads.
Three people went down before he reached me. The blood at the end of the club made me nervous. Still. It was hard to take the man seriously. His small ‘brass hat’ fit like a skull cap, and was pressed and hammered in the image of an exposed brain.
Worn for protection from the zombie crews he worked around? Or was the cap a fashion statement? Either way, he looked ridiculous.
“Get down from there. Now.” He slapped his club against his palm. Blood droplets flew, landing on his brain hat. The blood dripped, catching on the tip of his nose. Now he looked even more ridiculous. I tried to squelch a smile. I was too late.
“Something funny, water rat?”
Water rat? Really? I wasn’t worried. I had my Academy ID hanging around my neck. But name-calling? I shoved up my sleeves, still soggy from Annabel’s bathwater, and had a sudden epiphany.
In my hurry to spruce up, I had turned my wet, mud-caked sweatshirt back the right way. But? Wet was still wet. Maybe I did look like a water rat.
“Look,” I held up my ID. “I’m here on official Academy business, I need to find-”
He tore the ID out of my hand, snapping it off my neck. Throwing the badge to the floor, he reached out, and with his huge hand, grabbed my neck, hosting me high into the air like a pennant pole and I was the flag. When he began to squeeze, things began to get dicey. I saw white spots in front of my eyes and my breath choked off.
“Do you know how many of these fucking fake IDs I’ve confiscated?”
The man sneered up at me. His breath stank, and he was missing teeth. A lot of them.
“An Academy member of Dr. Dark’s?” he said. “I don’t think so. Look at you. If you weren’t so damn filthy, I’d save you for later. And I’d pick my teeth with your scrawny bones.
In the haze of near suffocation, my fear drifted away. All I could think about was murder. His.
The cinderblocks whispered to me. Pick us up. Crush his skull. Snap his spine. Pick us up. I mentally pushed down the Chaos Magic that threatened to surface in its blackest form. My vision dimmed.
This was no time to pass out. Not when I had a clear opportunity to end this mess. At this angle, I had a perfect shot at his crotch. And I had on just the boots to play a game of ‘kickball.’
My steel-toed Doc Martin caught him square in the groin. The giant man howled and dropped to his knees. The hickory stick flew from his hand, landing out of reach. His eyes rolled back into his head. Luckily, he released his death grip on my neck before he passed out. Otherwise, he’d be on top of me. Instead, I landed on my feet.
His brass hat popped off his head and was stolen before it even hit the ground. Yeah. That was getting melted down. I cheered right up.
“New boyfriend?”
Rubbing my neck, I turned and looked up at The Bone Man. “Yeah. Our first fight.”
“Well. Introduce me some time. Then we can all go out for a beer. Then? I’ll help you kill him.”
“Deal. We’ll make him buy. Come on. Let’s get out of this, zombie dome of doom.” I used Jin’s air quotes before I even realized I had. Oh my God, first Eli, now me. She was infecting the entire Academy.
“Before we go,” The Bone Man pointed to the back where a zombie was being led away. Young, strong, in great shape, well, great shape for a zombie, he was everything a Brass Hat wanted. Big, strong, fresh.
“It’s the tenth one around this age and size,” The Bone Man whispered. “They’re being–”
“Made,” I whispered. I knew if I was looking in a mirror, that I would be paler than my saloon girl ghost.
The Bone Man nodded in agreement.
My stomach flipped. I thought of Eli’s tattooed doomsday clock, and for a moment, I thought I would be sick. I wouldn’t throw up. Not now. And certainly not here. I turned and quickly walked out of the tent, looking for a much-needed breath of fresh night air.
“Wrap it up, Jin. Showtime in fifty.” I stood on my tiptoes and looked at The Bone Man’s clockwork skeleton key. “Actually. Forty-eight minutes.”
I was starting to panic. I’d caught a glimpse of myself in the Evil Clown’s distorted, full- length mirror on our way here. And even though I knew I didn’t weight like, two thousand pounds, I did know that the mud and dirt and grime were only too real. When the clown saw me leave behind a filthy handprint on his perfectly polished mirror, he screeched, gave chase, and pelted me with an octopus balloon animal.
This was just not my night.
Bottom line? I needed time to clean up. I had a date after all. With a vampire.
Jin wrinkled her nose, ignored me, and continued to amaze the crowd by twirling an 11x14 canvas over her head.
She shot spray paint into the air, using one can after another, until the white canvas was covered in dripping primary colors. Flipping the painting on the ground, she removed gears, cogs, washers and a rusted, round cake pan that had be
en stuck in various places.
The painting now looked like a futuristic solar system, the planets in various magentas, and cobalt, and blood-red crimson.
“Jin,” I whispered kneeling next to her. “We gotta go. Showtime-”
“Shush. Artist in action here. Jeez, Skye. Where’s Turk? He understands my process.”
She still hadn’t looked up at me. Using a straw, Jin blew the wet paint one direction and then another. She took a twelve-inch nail and etched into the layers of damp paint until a perfect cityscape of Seattle came into view. The Space Needle once again stood proud and glowing in the vintage, long lost Seattle skyline.
I had to admit, the painting was beautiful.
Jin finally looked up in our direction. She focused on me. Her eyebrows rose. “How much time we got?”
“Thirty-seven minutes and counting,” The Bone Man said. He licked his fingers, finishing the last crumbs of a sugar cube he had fished out of a glass of unattended absinthe.
“Why didn’t you guys tell me this was an emergency?” Jin said.
“Emergency?” Dumbfounded, I looked at her. “We gotta hurry, true–”
“Skye. Hold that thought.”
“What? Hold-”
She stood and put her finger to my lips. “Shh.”
Jin motioned to a man in the crowd. He walked forward and dropped gold coins in her paint-spattered palm. It looked like a small fortune.
“All yours,” she said sweetly. Enjoy.” She bowed. The crowd applauded and cheered. Someone whistled. Jin bowed again, soaking up all the attention she could. As usual.
We swept her paint supplies into a messenger bag. Pulling Jin away from the crowd, she took the bag and slung it over her shoulder. She grabbed my hand and tugged me in the direction of The Neptune.
“The emergency is you,” she said.
“Me?”
“Have you seen yourself?”
“Well, yeah. There was this Evil Clown, and he had a mirror and-”
“No talking. I have no time to listen. We need to run. You need time to get show-ready. Not gonna lie, Skye. You need a friggin’ miracle.”
“Miracle?” The word hardly left my lips when I was almost tugged off my feet. For such a little squirt, Jin had a hell of a grip.
The three of us raced through the crowd, dodging the aggressive barker calls of the vendors. Desperate for a sale, some tried to grab us, while others gave chase for a short distance. We jumped over prone, passed out bodies, wove around pennant poles, and hopped over a string of marching automatons, shaped like daddy longlegs. Startled, the spiders spun, twisted, and tipped over. That vendor chased us the longest.
A snake handler, flaunting a magical coral-colored python, scared The Bone Man nearly to death. I had never seen my best friend run so fast. I passed the Evil Clown once more and got smacked in the ass with that damn octopus balloon again.
The beat of pounding drums pulsed through the night. A blur of drying cannabis, brown bottles of morphine and laudanum, and the sweet smell of opium, mingled together in a maze of sound, sight, and smell.
Herbs like wormwood and licorice, star anise and sweet fennel, assaulted my nostrils. Smoke from the burning oil drums stung my eyes.
We arrived at the theater, out of breath, laughing, and stumbling over our own feet. We pounded on the massive door at the back entrance of The Neptune Theater. We yelled. Jin swore and kicked the door. The Bone Man finally sat down, crossed his legs and caught his breath. I slid down next to him.
The door slid open, and the three of us tumbled inside.
I fell to my knees, landing on all fours.
Looking up, I stared directly into the amber, fire-licked eyes, of a huge male, African Lion. His massive muzzle was only inches from my nose. Gold glitter, scattered throughout his gorgeous mane, did little to soften his fierce features.
Turk’s magical cat growled, thundering his displeasure. Lethal canines flashed. My ears rang, and I scrambled to my feet and took refuge behind The Bone Man. He tried to trade places with me.
Turk stood next to the lion, and with arms crossed, he tapped his foot, greeting us with raised eyebrows and a frown. Unlike us, he was dressed for the show. Kohl lined his eyes, and the same gold glitter that matched the lion covered his long dreads.
“You guys?” he said. “Are fucking late.” The lion once again opened its massive jaws and roared. Pine needles, dust, and debris rained down. The small but loud VIP early entry crowd seated behind our makeshift curtain heard and went crazy. The stage was pelted with cans and bottles and who knows what else.
Shaking his head, Turk motioned the lion to his side. “Shit. If these are the VIPs, I can’t wait for the general fucking admission.” With that, he and his big cat turned and walked away.
12
The early entry, VIP crowd was getting out of hand.
They needed a diversion, something to keep their attention. They needed a big-ass distraction.
In short, they needed a warm up act.
Like, you know, the band that went first. The band no one wanted to see, but it was better than nothing.
If it wasn’t for Anastasia and her wolves, they would have stormed the stage an hour ago. But facing wolves that made Little Red Riding Hood’s grandma look like a Chihuahua, gave the audience some pause. They didn’t know if it was the lighting that made the animals look so unbelievably large, or if it was an illusion caused by the absinthe they drank. Either way, with the help of a little magic–the moon was full after all–the wolves sold the act well, and the audience was kept at bay. For now.
With no magic allowed–yet, the task was left to real live performing.
And guess who fit the bill?
Traveler Hale and I were the ones ‘elected’ to ‘calm them the fuck down.’ Turk’s words. Not mine. Meaning Dr. Dark wanted a dry run of the two of us together on stage, to test the silver. But he assured us, it would be low-profile, no piercing, over quickly, and painless…he hoped.
I had managed to take a quick shower, grab clean jeans, and don my go-to black corset, throw silver glitter in my hair, and boom. I was ready. I was not one of those ‘I take hours getting ready kind of girls.’ Which gave me pause. Because if I wasn’t, why was I always late? For everything? I shrugged my shoulder. A mystery for another day.
I looked once more in the cracked full-length mirror. Okay. A vast improvement from the inside out hoodie. Guess I was ready.
For my bit part.
As a dancer.
Trying to be sexy.
I had asked Dark, why me? First, I couldn’t dance. And he agreed. Didn’t even try to argue. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
Second. The whole ‘shake my booty’ wasn’t my thing. Even when Jin had tried to teach me how to ‘twerk,’ I’d pulled a muscle in my right butt-cheek and was out of commission for days. It was…embarrassing, to say the least. Not really the kind of injury to brag about.
Dark had said, “Don’t worry. Just strut back and forth across the stage. With this inebriated crowd, they won’t notice. Remember, the more they drink, the better you look.”
And I sure as hell didn’t know how to feel about that, either.
Dark saw the look on my face, took me by the arm, hid the two of us behind a near-by curtain and kissed me. “You are incredibly sexy, Skye,” he had whispered. “And it kills me to parade you in front of those sick fucks like a piece of prime beef. But I need you for the distraction. To cover when Hale makes contact with the silver.”
“Well, I’d said. “At least I’m prime.”
He’d laughed at that.
It was kinda weird, being kissed by a guy who looked old enough to be my great-grandfather. But the moment his lips touched mine, the magic flowed between us, stronger than ever before. It was as though Eli had finally taken down a wall between us. And I never wanted it to go back up again. And, old or young, I never wanted to stop kissing him.
Pulling out of the kiss, Eli explained that thi
s ‘act’ as bad as it might be–”
Which caused me to cross my arms and raise an eyebrow.
“Come on, Skye,” he’d said. “You know what I mean. It’s not like this act is in our usual lineup. We’re making it up as we go. I just need to observe Hale, the silver and you. If the coating doesn’t work…
“You’ll what?” I had asked.
“I’ll figure it out,” he’d said.
Then of course, we were outed by Jin, who yanked back the curtain. “There you are, Skye,” she had exclaimed. “What is this? Some secret meeting? Look, Dark. Don’t write her up. You know she’s always late. Made me late too. But I can fix this.”
“Wait. What? I didn’t!” I’d said.
“You so did,” she’d said. “Dark, next time send Turk. In fact, always send Turk. He knows how to schedule. But fear not, with a dose of magic, we’ll get her stage ready in time.”
What? I had to draw a line here. “Oh no. No magic, Jin.”
“Hair and make-up, Skye. Hair and make-up. And let me tell you,” she had put a hand on her hip and wagged a finger in my face, “I wish I could do that kind of magic, because tonight? You need it.”
Dark had laughed, gave me a gentle push, and said, “She’s all yours, Jin.”
I had turned to walk away, when he grabbed my arm. “I’ll be watching. Don’t worry, I’m right here.”
So now as I stood in front of the mirror, I pondered what was to come next. I guess this was Vampire in Silver, part one. And whereas I knew this performance would not kill us, I had to wonder, and worry about act two.
“You look amazing, Lovely.”
Startled, I turned and looked to see Traveler standing right behind me. I always wondered how he managed to sneak up on me. And now I guess I knew. For a vampire, being sneaky? Was a thing.
He looked imposing, intimidating, and, well, scary. Unlike me, he had on his full-on stage persona attire. Meaning, that once again, the girls from our ‘Stage Magic Class, How to Bring Your Magic To Life, And Keep It Hidden,’ had applied every meticulous detail.