Sleight

by Tom Twitchel

  Making my way through the pawnshop and taking the elevator up to what I was sure was going to be a verbal butt-kicking I tried not to feel sorry for myself. Yes, I’d allowed Sawyer to talk me into doing something we should have cleared with Kenwoode, but we’d saved Justine from getting knack-sucked.

  That had to count for something.

  When I walked into the library they were all there. Justine was sitting on a couch next to Constance, looking more alert and content. Constance looked tired and pale. Sawyer and Brock were as far from each other as they could manage, while Kenwoode sat stiffly in a high-backed chair that had been pulled from a corner of the library. He broke off from what looked like a heated conversation with Sawyer to stare me down as I walked over and grabbed a seat.

  “We’ve just been getting a debriefing from Sawyer on your visit to the Pike Place area. Care to further enlighten us?” The muscles of his jaw stood. I didn’t need to use my sensing ability to see how mad he was.

  “We shouldn’t have gone off without consulting the team. I accept responsibility for that. But...if we hadn’t Justine might have ended up...” I glanced in her direction, a wide-eyed look on her face, “...she might have been in bad shape.”

  His scowl deepened but he didn’t say anything.

  “Yeah? You’re just as bad as him,” snarled Brock, jerking a thumb in Sawyer’s direction.

  I held my tongue and so did Sawyer who was giving me a strange look. We knew we were in for some sort of dressing down and I for one didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. Then help arrived from an unexpected source.

  Constance coughed lightly. “It seems to me that in this instance, the end justified the means. Other than establishing some rules for the future, I’d recommend giving these two young men a break.”

  Hearing her defend us in my mother’s voice, albeit with an accent, made me feel strange.

  “That’s right. If it hadn’t been for Benny who knows what would’ve happened,” chimed in Justine.

  Kenwoode’s anger didn’t abate but he didn’t start in on me either. Brock was another matter.

  “Preston, I’m about ready to bolt this op. If you can’t control these two kids I’m not willing to risk my neck.”

  Shaking himself as if from a daydream, Kenwoode let out a long slow breath and checked off on me and Sawyer. “We’ll table this. But, the next unscripted behavior that takes place will result in me rearranging the players.”

  “You think that’s gonna stop them?” scoffed Brock. “Why don’t you ground them and send them to bed without supper while you’re at it? This is all—”

  “Brock you can leave anytime you want,” said Kenwoode in a low voice.

  That brought the blowhard bastard up short. “What? Really? You’re going to just excuse them on this?” he blurted.

  “You’re kinda full of yourself aren’t ya?” offered Justine who was looking decidedly less dopey.

  “What?” spat Brock.

  “People, please!” said Constance. “Decisions made in anger...” she made a point to not look in Brock’s direction, instead focusing on me, “...are seldom good decisions. Can’t we move on to another topic or reconvene when everyone has had a chance to take a breath?”

  Narrowing his eyes Brock snorted, and folded his arms across his chest. He stared at the ceiling.

  “Thank you Constance,” said Kenwoode. “Why don’t you tend to Miss Winters elsewhere. I’m afraid we’re out of bedrooms or I’d offer her a bed for the night.”

  “She can use the room I was sleeping in,” I said. “If I’m back in my apartment there’s no reason Justine can’t stay there.”

  Justine favored me with a Cheshire grin.

  “No,” said Kenwoode. “You should be here. Everyone should be under one roof this evening.”

  “She can sleep in my room. There’s a day bed in there,” said Constance. “Provided that she’s okay with that.”

  “Better here than back home,” said Justine, offering Constance a smile.

  “Good. Then ladies, we’ll see you later.”

  Constance stood and offered a hand to Justine who waved it off and stood on her own looking pretty steady while she did it.

  We all watched them leave the library. Glancing at Kenwoode I wondered if the tense conversation was going to resume without the girls being present.

  “We’re going to be forced to move more quickly now that one of Sonja’s new hunters has been incapacitated,” Kenwoode began.

  I had a bad case of dry mouth going on, but they all needed to know what had happened. “Uh, Mr. Kenwoode? I have some news on the hitman that you should know about.”

  “Yes? What is that?”

  As quickly as I could without leaving out too many details, I recounted the disaster with Silver when he had tried to get away. Sawyer looked green and I began to wonder why he had been asked to join this whatever-it-was. He seemed like a good guy but his impetuousness and nervousness didn’t mesh with Kenwoode’s obsession for precision and structure.

  For his part Kenwoode nodded and listened quietly. Brock alternated between shaking his head, frowning and then smirking when I described Silver’s violent end.

  “That actually couldn’t have worked out better,” he said. “He’s toast and any witnesses will only be able to report what happened to him.” he frowned. “Wait. How exactly did you avoid anyone seeing you?”

  Now I had no other choice than to divulge another of my knacks to the group. Considering that both Sawyer and Justine had seen me invoke my camouflage I figured that it wasn’t really a secret anymore. I allowed my disguising knack to flicker on and off for a second rather than explain it out loud. I enjoyed Brock’s shocked expression.

  “Interesting,” Kenwoode said. He leaned back and relaxed slightly. “We will have to change plans.”

  Brock was still staring at me with a weird look on his face. Sawyer was sitting with his shoulders slumped, deflated and quiet.

  Kenwoode continued, “Because the results of your ill-advised activity downtown ended in our favor we’ll move past debating your questionable judgment and try to capitalize on it. The assassin’s violent and highly visible death provides a temporary cover for Miss Winters’ escape, but if any details, video or photos of her and Sawyer leaving the area together should surface, Sonja will go to ground and become difficult to find.”

  Glancing at Sawyer he continued, “Mr. Nance, you will try to use your skill with a computer to ferret out any media that connects us to the area.” Sawyer nodded.

  “I was considering bringing in a few other associates from out of town to help us with this. People experienced in complicated operations,” Kenwoode added.

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Brock crowed, clenching a fist and pumping it up and down.

  “But I can’t. At least not at this juncture.”

  Brock waved his hands in the air. “What? Why not?”

  Favoring him with a cold stare, Kenwoode went on, “Because the network of Shades in this area might track my reaching out to associates. I tried to contact a local medical professional to assist Dr. Santome and haven’t heard back from him.”

  “So what? One person doesn’t get back to you right away and you think we’re made?” Brock spat.

  “Yes, I do. Because I made that phone call yesterday on a secure line. This contact has never failed to respond and always gets back to me within hours. Not days.”

  Brock closed his mouth, cutting off what was probably going to be another complaint.

  “And due to that development I am now concerned about anything we undertake that affects Sonja. She has been so recklessly active for so long that we must assume that the local Shade community is aware of her as well. If we take her out it has to be quick and clean. We need to move on her quickly.”

  “When?” I croaked, my voice hoarse from talking so much.

  “Tonight would be ideal but we need some information before we proceed. Early morning at the latest,” K
enwoode said.

  “Good. I agree,” snapped Brock. As if there would be any doubt as to his opinion.

  “What do you want me to do?” asked Sawyer.

  “As I said, attempt to eradicate any evidence of you and Benjamin visiting downtown today, including your restaurant experience. And any information you can dig up on the other person she may have hired. Beside that I want the two of you to stay here. Brock and I will handle this alone. Have you brought equipment?” he asked, looking at Brock.

  “Finally!” Brock said, rubbing his hands together, and standing up. ”Yeah, I’ve got my bag with me.”

  Kenwoode nodded. “Excellent. Let’s collect your tools and plan this out.”

  “What about the doctor and Justine?” I asked. The conversation was moving so quickly it made me nervous.

  “They stay here as well. As much as I believe Miss Winters should be returned to her parents, the reality is that she isn’t safe until we deal with Sonja. In fact I think that all of us are treading on thin ice as it were.”

  “Why’s that?” asked Sawyer, who was back to wringing his hands.

  Kenwoode stood up slowly. I swear I could hear his bones creaking. “Because if my local colleague has been compromised, then anyone I’ve made contact with lately is at risk too. Especially those of you who are from out of town.”

  THIRTY-SIX: HEART CALL

  KENWOODE AND BROCK walked out of the room with no other words of direction or encouragement. Sawyer looked lost. I was feeling left out. Marginalized.

  “I gotta get on the stuff he asked me to do if they’re going to head out in the morning,” groaned Sawyer. “Sorry I pressured you into going downtown.”

  “No way, man. I’m glad we went. Justine might be dead if we hadn’t.” I clapped him on the shoulder and he offered me a tentative smile.

  “You were starting to say something at the restaurant when we saw Justine. What was it?”

  He shook his head, not making eye contact. “Nothing. Hey,” he said looking at my scalp. “What happened to your head wound?”

  “Huh? What are you talking about?”

  His forehead creased with a confused look. “When we were at the condo, right after we...took out Silver, your head was covered in blood and like looking pretty gnarly.”

  I hesitantly ran my fingers through my hair, expecting sharp pain. Nothing. Huh. “I guess it wasn’t as bad as it looked. Besides, I rinsed my head in a fountain. Got rid of the crusty blood.”

  He shook his head again. “I guess. Glad you’re okay. It looked pretty bad.”

  A sneaking suspicion chattered in the back of my mind. “Yeah, well you know what they say about head wounds. Lots of blood even from a small cut. Hey, there’re a couple of things I need you to do too. The favors you agreed to before we went downtown.”

  “Sure, who needs to sleep? What is it?”

  I told him. He sighed, and rolled his eyes.

  “That’s all? You sure there isn’t anything else? Like doing your laundry, making your bed?”

  The look on my face must have made him feel a little guilty. He held up his hands. “Kidding, dude. Kidding. Shouldn’t be a problem. I owe you.”

  He offered his closed fist to me and we bumped knuckles.

  “Cool,” I said. “Thanks.”

  We both headed off to our respective rooms.

  I closed my door and immediately went to the mirror above the chest of drawers opposite the bed. I pulled back my hair where I’d been grazed by the bullet. There was a patch of pink skin and it looked like I was missing a chunk of hair but there was no open wound, and no pain. I remembered Justine reaching up to touch my head, slurring her words, wanting to help. Had I felt a tingling in my scalp or had that been my imagination?

  Voices from the hall carried into my room and I cracked the door to see who it was. Constance and Breno were walking toward Mr. Goodturn’s room. Constance had her arm around Breno’s back and he was bobbing his head in rhythm to their stride. Seeing the two of them together made the hair on the back of my neck tickle. I waited for them to enter his room and then I stepped out into the hall.

  I quietly crept up to Mr. Goodturn’s bedroom door. Hushed voices came from inside. Breno’s deep voice sounded nervous or scared. Taking in a deep breath and invoking my camouflage, I knacked the lock carefully so that it made no noise, and slipped into the room. Peering around the short entrance wall that screened the door from the bedroom I almost let out a gasp of surprise.

  Constance was standing by Mr. Goodturn’s bed, one hand on his chest, the other gripping one of Breno’s hands while his other hand hovered within an inch or two of the three monkeys clock. Their eyes were closed and Constance’s brow was furrowed. As I watched, a soft red-orange glow began to form around the clock, the monkey’s glass eyes shining. The warm glow intensified and enveloped the entire clock. Within the glow a second current of energy coalesced into a thread of gold light that spun rapidly around the clock and then coursed up Breno’s arm. His entire body began to glow and the golden thread raced along his shoulders to his opposite hand, and up Constance’s arm.

  My skin broke out in gooseflesh as I watched the tiny strand of golden light travel over her body, circle her heart and speed through her hand into Mr. Goodturn’s chest. His body was immediately suffused with an amber colored glow that reached down to his toes, which shone brightly beneath the bedspread.

  His chest heaved and a sigh escaped his lips. Constance’s eyes opened and a tired smile lit her face. She slowly removed her hand from Mr. Goodturn’s chest and the glow that had turned him into a human light bulb faded quickly. Letting go of Breno’s hand she quickly put her arm around him and drew him to her. He pulled his hand away from the clock and all of the red-hued energy winked out as if it had never existed. Breno rested his head on her shoulder as she held him.

  “This will be the last time Breno. You’re so brave. Harald chose you well and you’ve saved him, just as he’s saved each of us at one time or another,” she whispered in his ear.

  I tasted salt and realized that I was crying.

  THIRTY-SEVEN: BUSY HALLS

  EVEN THOUGH THERE hadn’t been anyone else in the hall I kept my camo in place until I’d snuck back into my room and closed the door. While the core secret of the three monkeys eluded me it was obvious that something in the clock, combined with Constance’s knack, had been restoring Mr. G’s health. It was another layer of mystery in my benefactor’s amazing life.

  Exhausted and feeling drained I fell onto the bed and was out within moments. I was having a nightmare about getting mugged in an alley by Sonja when I was dragged back to wakefulness. Looking around the darkened room I wondered what had woken me when someone knocked. Brushing my hair with my hands and still half asleep I stumbled to the door.

  I figured it was Sawyer with some questions on what I had asked him to look into, so when I opened it and found Constance there I was a little surprised.

  “Hi, is Justine okay?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep.

  “She’s fine. Resting, which she needs badly. May I come in?” she cocked an eyebrow at my wrinkled clothing. I thought I detected a new set of fine lines around her eyes.

  Standing back so she could enter I shut the door. She looked around and then took a seat in the chair by the window.

  “I thought we should have a talk and discuss a few things.”

  I sat down on the edge of the bed and faced her. “Okay.”

  Her hands fussed with the material of her slacks and she offered me a tired smile. “I think you’re in deep here Benjamin. You need to know more if you’re going to be able to make a decision on how much you want to be involved based on fact instead of emotion or...what someone else tells you.”

  I nodded, wondering when she ever got rest, considering what I’d seen her doing earlier.

  “I have some good news for you but I wanted to give you some insight first. Your friend is going to be okay. I think. There’s something about her
physical health that begs a question, but it certainly isn’t threatening. Her ability is similar to the one possessed by the rogue you’ve all been describing. But with a significant difference.”

  “What’s that?” I asked, trying to get comfortable.

  “She’s a healer too. Often we Naturals have two gifts. Each is usually the opposite of the other. Her gift can siphon off energy from another Natural, but in her, it is more naturally disposed to heal.” She bowed her head. “I have the same gift, but not as strong, and mine does not have the mirror ability attached to it.”

  “Is that why you became a physician?” I chose to keep what I thought Justine had done to my scalp wound to myself.

  “Maybe. I’m not sure, because I wasn’t consciously aware of my talent until I was enrolled in medical school. It could have been a subliminal influence. The danger, to me, is that every time I use it there is a price. There’s an impact to my cell structure and I don’t know how much or how often I can use my ability without causing severe damage.”

  I swallowed, remembering how tired she had looked when I’d arrived. “And Justine has this too? Is that true of all knacks? This damage?” I resisted the temptation to touch my magically repaired scalp.

  She gave me a wry smile. “Yes and no. The same deleterious impact may affect her every time she uses it. I don’t know whether it will be worse or not due to her gift’s strength, but she’ll definitely need to be careful. However, the negative effects I incur when I use my abilities are not usually true for others.”

  “If she has the other side of this knack, can she also replenish herself by drawing on someone else’s knack?” I was afraid to hear the answer.

  “Possibly. The siphoning aspect of her...gift...is used to repair physical musculature, skin, bones, most of the visible effects of aging. I don’t know how far that extends to the cellular level.”

  “And you wanted me to know this because she’s my friend,” I said.

  “Partly. But you should also know why Preston was so eager to locate and help her.” The hardness in her voice made me nervous.