Sleight

by Tom Twitchel

  “Breno isn’t dimwitted, he’s challenged. And you’re just pretending to be him? You’re not part of the plan Ken...Preston is putting together?”

  Shrugging, he raised his eyebrows. “Depends on Preston. Number one: take your friend’s place. Number two: back the two of you. Number three: take out some rogue bitch if possible. After that it’s all up for discussion. Between me and Preston.” He gave me another once over.

  “Are you here early? Kenwoode and I were just talking about all of this an hour ago.”

  “Nah, he called me yesterday. Preston’s always ahead of the curve when he’s decided to get involved. He says you’re sharp, so don’t go proving him wrong.”

  Nice. Another grownup more than happy to underestimate me, and treat me like a child. Then again, he had given my gun back.

  “Uh, I’m Benny.” I offered my hand.

  Taking my hand, giving it a single shake and then dropping it, he replied, “Brock.”

  “Are you...how did you meet Mr....Preston?” Old habits are hard to break.

  The smirk returned. “No details. We’ve worked together before, I owe him a favor and that’s all you need to know.”

  I could feel the muscles in my jaw tighten. I didn’t like being kept in the dark. Kenwoode had glossed over some details this morning which I had taken to mean that he was still formulating a plan. Brock’s arrival meant that the formulating part was already old news.

  “What kind of skills do you have?” I asked, trying to figure out if he was a Natural.

  He bristled. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. My skillset is enough for the job. This isn’t an interview kid. I’m already vetted, so you need to get on with your day and leave me to set up in here so that it looks like this Breno guy is back home.”

  Not helpful, and I certainly got the vibe that I was being asked to leave. I put my hand on the door knob. “Fine. Well, nice meeting you, sort of.”

  He gave me the chin chuck again. “Sure.”

  I walked into the hall and closed the door behind me. It was seriously frustrating me that Kenwoode, Preston, had put all of this is motion and clued Brock into much of what was going on. And not told me about it. He’d probably contacted this guy after I’d told him about finding Breno down at the waterfront. The help was great but I was chapped about watching someone else make all of the decisions. Can’t have it both ways I guess.

  I stood there for a moment trying to remember what I had been planning to do. Getting grabbed and yanked into an apartment and thoroughly manhandled had thrown me off my game.

  Shakily walking up to my apartment I figured my own personal stuff didn’t require too much attention. Homework was pretty much all done but there were a few things I could organize. No fun getting called out for sloppy work on my first day back.

  When I walked into my kitchen my stomach growled, running on its own agenda as usual, so I nuked a breakfast burrito. I was watching the seconds count down on the microwave display when someone knocked on my door. Reluctantly I trudged over to the door and peered through the peephole and scratched my head in confusion.

  The guy at my door was someone I’d never seen before. Not high school age, but not much older. Maybe nineteen or twenty. Straight black hair that fell to his shoulders, black raincoat, baggy black pants and a black shirt. No Goth makeup despite the monochromatic garb. In a typical month I might get one person at my door, other than Maddy or Mr. G. Because there was a key swipe on the front door people had to be buzzed in by someone or follow a tenant in. It was starting to feel like the Port of Seattle.

  I pulled my stun gun and cracked open the door. “Who are you looking for?”

  Flashing a huge grin he asked, “You Benny?”

  My scalp tingled. My knack sense picked up a relatively normal and unworried emotional current running through him. There was something else though, a strong buzz. I adjusted the grip on my stunner.

  “Yeah. Who’re you?”

  Still smiling he bounced in place. “Sawyer. Sawyer Nance. Kenwoode sent me.”

  That would make two strangers in less than thirty minutes on my home turf that Kenwoode had sent along without warning me in advance. I fought the urge to snap at him. It wasn’t his fault that Kenwoode was leaving me way outside the loop. The double standard of not going off ‘half-cocked’, but rolling with unexpected allies grated on my nerves.

  “Uh huh. And how would I know that?” I asked.

  His smile faltered but didn’t disappear. Then it brightened. He raised an index finger and winked at me. Twitching his finger once, a small blue and white electric spark crackled in and out of existence about an inch above his flexing digit.

  Holy crap.

  TWENTY-TWO: SPARKY

  I HAD SPENT two years in Seattle meeting no one else who possessed knacks. Over the last year they had started flooding in from every imaginable direction. The fact that Kenwoode hadn’t bothered to alert me to the fact that he’d called this Sawyer kid was an additional irritating twist.

  A thought occurred to me though, causing me to keep the door between us. Naturals. Shades. Just because he was knacked didn’t mean that Kenwoode had really sent him. He could be playing for the other team.

  “Tell me something about Kenwoode so I know you’re legit,” I directed.

  The smile faded again while his brows furrowed. Then a mischievous grin replaced the smile. “Cool goatee, very particular, strict and...walks kinda stiff.”

  I decided to throw another question at him though for good measure. “Brock? You know him?”

  The grin disappeared and his face fell. He rubbed his shoulder with his right hand. “Crap. He’s here? Yeah, I know him. Bit of a hard ass.” He paused, looking nervous. “But don’t tell him I said that.”

  Opening the door, I watched him carefully as he walked past me, unslinging a big backpack and setting it down just inside the doorway. Shutting the door behind us, I motioned him to follow me to the counter bar and we grabbed a seat facing each other. I remembered my burrito and got up to get it. “Sorry, but I’m starved,” I apologized.

  It was his turn to size me up. Even though he was obviously older we were roughly the same height and build. I’d been putting on some weight and inches and getting close to six foot.

  His smile flickered back to life and he rubbed his hands together, static electricity crackled in the air as I sat down again.

  “So what can you do?” He leaned toward me, waiting expectantly.

  This was new. Mr. G had asked a similar question early in our friendship, but the other Naturals I’d met had been either cagey about their own knacks or had been trying to get a read on me before revealing what they could do or even whether they wanted to reveal that they had a knack. This guy was totally excited about the whole thing. Reveling in it.

  “A couple things. Nothing much,” I offered.

  He swayed a little on his barstool. “More than one? Come on. Don’t play like that. I showed you mine. You gotta reciprocate.”

  Whether due to his age or easy going nature I found myself wanting to trust him.

  “Why are you here? Why did Kenwoode contact you?” After guarding my secrets for so long it was hard to just reveal them on the spot. I bit into the burrito. Luke warm.

  Disappointed, his smile drooped a bit. “Well, in addition to this,” he twitched his finger again causing another miniature light show, “I have other skills.”

  “Uh huh. Like what?” I asked.

  Looking at the ceiling and gazing around the apartment he did a little shimmy on the stool. “Oh this and that. I’m good at tech, finding stuff, tracking, listening. All totally normal human stuff, but really good at it. My talent for electricity makes me valuable for certain things. So come on man. Show a brother some respect, and clue me in to your talent. Talentsssss.”

  His presence on its own, and his having revealed his knack had allayed some suspicion. And he knew about Kenwoode and Bock. In answer I set down the burrito and pull
ed a marble out of my jeans pocket, holding it in my hand. He was so focused on it that it was almost laughable. I made it levitate an inch or two in the air.

  Clapping his hands together he rocked back and forth. “Awesome! I would totally love that! So cool.”

  Virtually everyone else I’d met that had a knack was much older, with the single exception of Justine. Sawyer had a knack and he was completely accepting that other people had them and wasn’t the least bit frightened by it. Letting the marble drop back into my palm I stuffed it back into my pocket.

  Enjoying the camaraderie, I said, “I have another one, watch...”

  Pointing at my arm I created a tattoo of a snake on my skin. His reaction was immediate.

  “No way! That...that is just sick.” Smiling and shaking his head he looked up from my arm. “So cool.”

  I let the illusion vanish and picked up the burrito for another bite. Around a mouthful of egg, bacon and tortilla I asked, “So Brock. Badass. What’s that all about?” I figured a little background on one of our co-conspirators was fair game.

  The effect on him was interesting. He stopped grinning and the nervous jumping around stepped down a notch.

  “Yeah. Brock. So we all don’t really get into stuff about other Naturals. You know? Like totally against the rules. Unspoken, but still kind of a rule. Us talking about our talents one-on-one is kosher but talking about someone else’s gifts is like not cool.” He glanced at me. “But since I kinda outed him for being a jerk, I guess I could tell you why he and I...don’t actually get along.”

  Licking melted cheese off my fingers I took another bite and nodded for him to go on.

  “Yeah, so, it was like this. We were on a thing, for Kenwoode, a while back. First time we ever worked together and...so here it is...I kind of screwed up and he got pissed.”

  I just raised an eyebrow.

  Rubbing his hands on his pants, static electricity sizzling, he went on. “We were...collecting information. Stuff. I got us in and opened a safe. Little number, old fashioned, no big deal.” He smiled sheepishly. “Brock was the safety. Muscle. Protection. And the man in charge too. I was strictly the talent. We got the stuff but we must have triggered a silent alarm because a couple of guys, not real security because we were boosting stuff from a place that wasn’t legal, but anyway they made us and we were caught with our panties down. Brock was pissed, like I said, but he didn’t have any trouble with the first guy. The second guy was a problem.” Sawyer paused and grimaced. “He got Brock in a headlock and I thought he was gonna choke him out. Which would have totally blown, ‘cause Brock was the lead, and my ride you know? So Brock signaled me to zap him.”

  He paused to take a breath, and gave me a sickly grin. He obviously wasn’t enjoying reliving the memory.

  “So I zapped him. But I kinda missed. Well, not completely ‘cause I totally knocked the guy out...but I scorched Brock too.”

  I hid a smile with my hand but Sawyer wasn’t fooled.

  “Yeah, I know, it’s kinda funny but he’s got a really big scar and he threw down on me something fierce ‘cause of it. Turns out he wasn’t really signaling me, he was getting ready to throw a judo move. I misread it.”

  My curiosity was piqued. “Scar? Where.”

  A nervous grin flickered over his face. “Right in the glutes man.”

  TWENTY-THREE: SURPRISE!

  “YEAH, YOU GO ahead and laugh but Brock is so not funny when he’s bent. He’s got anger management issues. I think,” muttered Sawyer.

  I got myself under control and stifled another chuckle. I couldn’t even think of the last time I’d laughed. It felt good.

  “Are you local?” I asked.

  Sawyer twisted left and right on the barstool. “Not really. Portland, so not far. The Great Pacific Northwest and all.”

  I had questions and he seemed willing to talk. “What’s Brock’s knack?”

  “Nah, can’t tell you that. Remember? But I can tell you that Brock’s got serious talent envy. Don’t flash your stash at him. He’s not subtle when he’s irritated. Has trouble controlling his emotions.”

  I’d been a witness to that. Regardless of Sawyer’s open nature it appeared that some topics had been taken off the table.

  Another angle of questioning might work though. “What did Kenwoode tell you about what’s going on? Why did he contact you?”

  He stopped twisting on the barstool and started drumming his fingers on the countertop. “I actually called him. I was here for something else and needed some coin so I hit him up. As far as what he’s told me? Let’s see...Goodturn’s out of commission, there’s some half-wit that’s been hurt, you’re a keeper and there’s a rogue witch that’s in serious need of getting her ass kicked.”

  I decided to let his offhanded comment about Breno slide. His comment about Mr. G surprised me. “You know Mr. Goodturn?”

  His eyebrows arched and his mouth dropped open. “Are you serious right now? He’s sort of a legend. At least he might be. Some people think he was the Mad Dwarf. If I’d known he had a shop here in Seattle I would have jumped a Greyhound years ago to just like, you know, sit in his presence.”

  I was floored. Legend? Man, did I have some serious catching up to do with Mr. G when he was back among the fully functioning. “What’s your role? Specifically?” I probed.

  He gave me a sly look. “You are relentless aren’t ya? As advertised. Cool. Mostly for my skills on a computer, but also for…” he snapped his fingers and a blue spark leapt toward the ceiling.

  Computer. He had to be Kenwoode’s hacker. I wondered if he was anywhere near as good as Baffle. But another question came to mind. “The electricity thing is cool, but how do you use it?”

  If he was a peacock he would have fanned his tail feathers. He straightened up on the stool and his grin showed more teeth than I thought possible. “Oh man! You wait, I got some ridiculous moves with my juice! But...there isn’t much I can show you indoors that’s safe. I can kill almost anything that runs on a current. Turn stuff on that’s off, knock someone out of his socks, boil water, start a camp fire, so like I’m totally great in the woods, not that I like that, and if I have enough time I can magnetize stuff like nobody’s business!”

  I shook my head. “How does it work?”

  Shrugging he spread his hands out to his sides and wiggled his fingers. “Like most of us I guess. I influence a space, use my hands to help my concentration. It’s enhanced by static electricity.” He rubbed his corduroy pant legs together and flexed the fingers of both hands as electric waves danced over them. “I wear stuff that helps it along.”

  Curious, I pulled my stun gun from its holster. “Would something like this mess with your knack?”

  He smirked. “That little joy buzzer? Nah. Knack? That’s a word not many of us use.” He pointed at the stun gun. “Give me a jolt with that thing.” He looked over at the windows facing the street. “Do those open?”

  “Yeah, they open. Are you crazy, you really want me to use this on you?” I asked.

  Hopping off the barstool he went to a window and pushed it up, letting in a blast of cold air. “Yup. Jam it into my chest and pull the trigger!” He pulled his jacket open with both hands, baring his t-shirt covered chest.

  I slid off my stool and walked over to him. He extended a hand toward the open window and grinned. “Come on, let ‘er rip!”

  I placed the device against his chest and pulled the trigger. There was the loud ‘bramp’ sound and the electrical poles sparked and crackled as the visible current traced over his body, his eyes reflecting the light. He wiggled his outstretched fingers and a rope of electricity shot out through the window causing a cloud of steam as it made contact with the light rain outside.

  “Holy—” I gasped.

  Chuckling he pulled the window down. “Right? Cool huh?”

  “Uh, yeah,” I said.

  Folding his arms over his chest he grinned. “Some people get all kinds of messed up in the head about
all this...but I love it. It’s like right out of a movie.”

  No kidding. “So, Preston sent you. What’s the next step?” I asked.

  His grin dimmed a bit. “First off, don’t call him Preston. I’ll bet you picked that up from Brock. Brock’s always pushing the limit. Kenwoode, he’s a stickler for manners. You know? Wearing a suit and all, like all the time. This job is my first real opportunity working for him since the screw up. He’s connected. My rep needs repairing, I’m kind of excitable, so he’s giving me a second chance. And you’re gonna ask about his talent too. I’m not gonna tell you what it is but...it is completely off the hook. Nobody else can do the thing he does and be prepared to freak out a little when you see it. As far as what comes next that’s coming from him, but he wanted me to introduce myself. He thought we might hit it off.”

  Well, so far it seemed like that might actually be true. “Where’re you staying while you’re in town?”

  “Mr. K said he had a room for me.”

  It stood to reason that Kenwoode was planning on giving him a room over at Mr. G’s.

  “Okay Sawyer. Welcome to Seattle. Let me fill you in on what I know,” I said.

  Grinning, Sawyer sat down at the counter. “Awesome.”

  Sawyer and I spent an hour comparing notes. There were enough gaps in our collective information that we had plenty to discuss. It became clear that he didn’t know about my bachelor existence so I left that secret intact. We shared some stories about our knacks, which he called talents, and we talked about some of our experiences with other Naturals.

  His open nature was refreshing. He asked about my school and that led to a long explanation of the events that took place before and after the kidnapping; which then moved the conversation in the direction of Kenwoode, Mr. Goodturn and Sonja.

  Kenwoode had asked him to do research on Sonja’s location and he was waiting for a secure connection to the internet to get started. But other than the basics of why he was in town I had more background than he did, which made me feel a little less irritated with Kenwoode.