by Al K. Line
There were goons and several vampire goons, and I knew there would be more vampires as the true night encroached. I was getting better at keeping the vamps in my memory, even though the buggers had if not a veil, then an air of such normality that it was hard for most people to keep them in focus. There were also several vehicles that weren't to Ivan's taste. Large Hummer type things, oversized and screaming, "Look at me, I've got a big pair of bollocks and I'm a gangster." Not Ivan's style at all. He liked discreet but expensive, nothing flash or showy about his operation or the vampires' way of doing things at all. Guess this was the business he'd hinted at on the phone.
Still, I was here now, and I wanted the book gone. Heck, I didn't even care if I got paid, not right away anyway. I greeted several goons at the bottom of the steps leading up to Ivan's lair, walked up, nodded to the goon who opened the door for me without a word, and stepped into the factory. I walked across a familiar gantry, scene of much mayhem not too long ago, glanced down at the rubble and the detritus of years of kids partying, people scavenging for scrap, and remains of old equipment, plus a hell of a lot of Ivan's people, and then I was across the gantry and at the door to the mezzanine.
Should I knock? Should I hell.
I turned the handle, set my face cold, hard, and humorless—you gotta have your gangster face when you don't know what company you'll find—and breezed in like I owned the place.
And promptly stopped dead in my tracks as a familiar feeling hit the side of my head. Cold steel. The barrel of a gun pressed against my temple. I turned to face the owner, letting the barrel scrape across my forehead, and as I stared into the eyes of the fuckwit trying to intimidate me, I said, "You better either shoot me or move that fucking thing before I break your arm then smash that gun through your fucking eye." That sounded about right.
The gun owner glanced aside and much as I wanted to look to see who his boss was, I didn't shift my gaze, just eyeballed him as I heard a humorless voice ask, "Who is this joker, Ivan?"
"This is The Hat," said Ivan, sounding pissed off.
"You hear that, lads? It's the famous Hat. He doesn't look all that."
The guy still pressing the gun against my forehead sneered and said, "Looks kinda old."
"Last warning," I said. Old! The nerve.
"Your call, Price," came the voice of this guy's boss. I could picture him shrugging, acting cool like he didn't care and this was just an inconvenience.
Price smiled at me, but I saw the waver of uncertainty, a trace of apprehension. Nevertheless, he licked his lips and his finger twitched on the trigger.
I batted his arm away in the moment he hesitated, grabbed his wrist, and twisted until bone snapped. He howled in pain and I yanked the gun out of his hand, kicked him in the kneecap, and he went down. I straddled him and, gripping the gun two-handed, I slammed it down with muscles boosted by training with Beast. The barrel punctured his eyeball, spurting goop over his face, and only stopped when it hit brain.
The body twitched once then was still. A dark stain spread over the corpse's crotch and the smell of shit contaminated the air.
The room was silent as I stood and stared hard at the others. I adjusted my hat, angling it forward and to the side, then said, "You need some ventilation in here, Ivan. Stinks of lowlife."
Everyone stared at me, the boss-guy in disbelief, his goons with concern, Ivan with a blank expression. He knew how I handled shit like this, wasn't surprised in the least. I turned my attention to the new face, and asked, "What, have I got something between my teeth?"
"You motherfucker," he whispered. "That was my main guy."
"Then I did you a favor, right? If you're gonna have employees then get ones that don't hesitate."
I smiled as the rest of the guy's goons did exactly that. They should have just shot me but that's not how people act, they look for direction. These guys were so used to taking orders from their boss they probably didn't use the bathroom without him telling them to.
The guy's eyes softened and he smiled. Then he laughed, and said, "I like you. Guess the stories about The Hat are true." He came closer and slapped me on the back.
"I'm Bones."
"And I'm tired." I ignored him and asked Ivan, "We ready to do business?"
"We are. Bones here was just leaving. And, Bones?"
"Yeah?" he asked, turning from me.
"Take the corpse with you."
There was an awkward moment, a stare-down between Bones and Ivan and opposing goons, but then Bones smiled his snakelike smile again, shrugged, and said to his guys, "You heard the man, grab Price. Time to go."
I stepped aside and watched as the body was dragged out. Bones followed his men. He stopped at the door, turned, and said, "Think about what I said."
The door slammed shut behind him.
"What was that about?" I asked.
"A problem. But not one you need concern yourself with. Now, shall we finish our business?"
"You betcha."
Let's Do This
"Do you have it?" asked Ivan, sitting sideways in his Eames chair behind the old desk. His long legs were crossed and I couldn't help notice that he wore Bugs Bunny socks. His suit was immaculate, black and sharp as his cheeks, and he'd got a haircut, slick and shiny.
It could make a guy feel scruffy if he cared about such things.
"Of course I do. Why do you think I'm here?"
"Shall we?" he asked, nodding to an aide-cum-goon who hadn't moved so much as a muscle so far. The man brought over a digital device I never concerned myself with as Vicky did all the tech stuff and I put up a hand and said, "One moment." Ivan nodded at the aide and he retreated, leaving the electronics behind.
"Is there a problem?"
"The problem is that you never told me who this belonged to originally. Or, if not originally..." I faltered as it hit me that maybe angels didn't write books and didn't go dropping them down from heaven into the hands of collectors, "then someone who felt they had a better case for ownership than anyone else."
"I assumed you would do your own research. Am I to believe you don't have it? Or don't wish to make the trade?" Ivan and I had history, much of it bad, but I now considered him if not a friend then at least an ally, certainly not an enemy. Plus, he was Vicky's brother, almost family.
"We did what research we could but there was no mention of this nonsense. About who says they own it. He's been very insistent. Deathly insistent. She's your sister, yet you put her in danger."
"She has you to care for her, protect her. I know Vicky well enough to know she wouldn't bow out no matter what information I gave you. I felt it best for her to remain somewhat in the dark. And it worked."
"Worked! Are you out of your freaking mind? We almost died in a helicopter. Twice. This, ah, entity has been after us, after me, since before I even started this job, which isn't right. He's chased us across the country, he's done untold damage, and apart from all that, I make it a policy never to piss off anyone who can screw with my afterlife. Um, apart from Death, but that's different. He likes me."
"Arthur, my dear Arthur, what can I tell you? I had my orders from the First. He wanted the book, you are trustworthy, so I gave you the job. The rest was up to you. You could have refused, could have said no, but you went ahead. And besides, this is what you do. You steal dangerous things and you pass them on."
"Maybe. But I don't like it." Damn, I hated it when he made sense, took the wind right out of my sails.
"So?"
"So, you made me steal a book that belongs to an..." I stopped myself and glanced at the goons standing around the room pretending not to listen. "Um, can we have a moment?"
"Of course." Ivan nodded at his guys and they filed out politely then shut the door.
"It's an angel, Ivan. Do you understand what I'm telling you? An angel. It's his, he wants it, and he's not messing around."
"Haha, come on, I know what the book is supposed to be about, but it's not, you know, really the property of an angel. They don't e
xist. Do they?"
"Are you mad, dude? Of course they exist. How do you think heaven gets all its business done? This book, whatever is in it, and no, I absolutely do not want to know, not even a hint, isn't for us, any of us. Magic books are one thing, spells and the like, summoning the dead and talking to spirits, but this book is something else entirely. Ivan, you know about so much, why be surprised that there are angels?"
"Because that would mean there was a heaven, which would mean there was a God, and I refuse to believe there is a God."
"Man, you haven't got a clue, have you?" He really hadn't.
"Then enlighten me."
"No fucking chance. I'm not your social worker. You played me and we're through. This is bad business. You don't do it like this, not if you want to keep your people on your side. I'm not saying we've fallen out, but I can't trust you guys to give me jobs that are acceptable. This was the last one."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Mikalus will be too. But honestly, Arthur, please don't take this as a personal affront from me. I just passed it on to you. I was given my instructions. I owe Mikalus my life, you owe me your daughter's."
"And Mikalus owes me his life." Okay, it was an accident, a terrible one, mainly because I did a job without knowing the full story, which sounds familiar, right? But this was different. I think.
"Be that as it may, and we both know the circumstances, he wanted you for this, so I gave you the work. Let's not argue, let's complete the transaction. I'm afraid Bones is being rather troublesome, so let's finish this so I can, er, finalize the details with him."
I knew exactly what that meant. Their meeting had gone bad and Ivan was going to eradicate him and his whole crew.
Definitely time for me to leave.
"Okay, fine. But think of your sister, man. You shouldn't let her get caught up in stuff like this."
"As I said, Vicky is willful. I wouldn't dream of interfering or telling her what to do."
"Ha, neither would I."
Knowing this would go nowhere, I took out the book and the case and laid them on the table. Should I tell him? No, he hadn't told me. Let the vampires have a nice surprise. Serve them right.
"There you go. Two for one. The book and its box. Pretty, eh?"
"Very nice." Ivan tapped away then looked up and met my gaze. "Payment complete. Would you like to check?"
"Nope, I'll take your word for it. Don't open the box, it's protected." I was going to leave it at that, but I guess I'm a real softy at heart. "It's got the angel inside, and he ain't happy. Let Mikalus deal with it, better it's safe in there than chasing me, or him, or you around."
"As you wish. I have no desire to look inside in any case. This is not for me."
"Me either. And the whole angel thing?"
"Yes?" asked Ivan, interest piqued.
"They aren't what you think they are. Don't piss them off. Or if you do, then get ready to run."
Ivan raised an eyebrow then reached across the table to retrieve the box.
As he did so, there was a series of muffled thuds from the other side of the door then it slammed open.
Bones stood there, grinning madly, covered in blood. His goons filed in around him, revealing bodies on the gantry.
"Changed me mind. I think I'll take what I want if you won't give it to me."
"So typical," I moaned.
A Mistake
I leaned back in my chair and sighed. I wasn't even particularly annoyed, not really. I'd been paid, this wasn't my problem any more. Although, I did have a reputation to maintain, and if not a friendship, then an understanding, and the last thing I wanted to do was purposely put myself on the wrong side of Ivan and the vamps.
But, and I felt daft even thinking it, the main reason I knew I wouldn't be able to stay out of this was because of loyalty. It felt ridiculous to feel such ties to Ivan, I believed I'd evened the score in regards to owing him one, or as close as I'd ever get, but he was the boss now, and I knew for sure he did a better job than anyone else I could think of. Certainly the sneering, smug looking Bones here.
So, I turned my chair sideways, tilted my hat back so he could look into my eyes, and waited. I could see Ivan with my peripheral vision, and he still had his legs crossed. This strange man was utterly at ease with what was happening. He probably expected Bones to play up after dismissing him the way he had. Or maybe he was as confident in his own abilities as I was in mine. Either way, it would undoubtedly kick off at some point, and we were both ready in our own way.
"You cut me out, Ivan, and that ain't nice." Bones stepped forward into the room and his guys spread out, trying to look menacing and intimidating, even doing a pretty good job of it if they hadn't been facing who they were. This was all way too familiar for us, seen it a thousand times before, and you can look as hard as you like, but when your face is smashed you'll still go crying off into a corner somewhere.
"I explained the situation. It's not up for negotiation. Your guys don't play by the rules, so no more territory to the east. I want the area cleaned up, not every junkie beaten to within an inch of their lives if your guys think they got looked at funny."
"Just keeping the scum in line."
Ivan stirred, uncrossed his leg, smoothed down his trousers, and leaned forward to stare intently at Bones. "The scum, as you call them, are your customers. They should be treated with respect and given what they paid for. You cut the product, you abuse the clientele, and you wonder why business is bad? You can't handle the work, you are down on your numbers, even with such an aggressive approach, so, and let me say this real slow in case you still don't understand. You are out. Finished. And after this little drama, none of you, and I mean none of you," Ivan paused to stare down each man in the room, "are leaving here alive."
"Haha, you're funny. What, two old dudes are going to wipe out me and my crew? Don't think so, old man."
"For a dead man you talk a lot," I said, giving Bones a smile.
Bones stared at me with cold, hard eyes, cruel eyes, and rubbed a hand over his shaved head. He didn't know what to make of me, or what I was capable of. I could almost see the cogs turning as he thought about how best to deal with me. He came to the wrong decision. I knew he would, I'd met his kind so many times before, and not once did it end well for them. But end it did.
He walked forward, cocky as fuck, and tried to bitch-slap me. I caught his hand before it hit, grabbed tight at his forearm, and his face reddened as he strained to move.
I let him go, keeping eye contact as he stumbled back, his hard man image broken. It pissed him off.
He pulled a gun.
Ivan sighed then said, "Bones, what the hell do you think you're playing at? You know you won't get away with this. You're a dealer, not boss material. You think all the men out there will work for you? They know what you are, same as I do."
Bones waved the gun at Ivan casually, but his men had their weapons trained on us. "They'll work for whoever pays them."
"You really haven't got a clue, have you?"
"He hasn't, has he?" I asked Ivan, knowing half of them were vampires, and Bones and his crew would be mangled bits of goo if they tried to take on the vamps.
"A growing problem with the youth," said Ivan conversationally, like we were alone and having a chat. "They don't respect age and experience, think they can do as they please. Some learn, others don't."
I nodded my head. "Some are too stupid, won't put in the proper work, always looking for shortcuts."
"Hey, hey! When you two are quite finished. What's in the box, eh? Looks nice. Worth a bit, I'd say. But antiques ain't my thing." Bones reached out to grab the box but I put my hand out and said, "I wouldn't if I were you. This is way out of your league, sonny, way out."
Bones frowned and then he slammed the gun at my head. I activated the energy stored in my hat and as the gun hit the top, Bones' arm bounced back. He yelped like a baby.
"What the fuck?" He rubbed at his arm—it would have felt like smashing into so
lid steel—and as he and his men were distracted I pulled out my wand and blasted a relatively subtle volley of compact shots of tight energy at several of them. They hit the floor, dead.
Bones whirled in confusion and stared in shock at the bodies, then back at me, the wand already secreted in my pocket. His surviving men lost their cool and rather than just shoot, one charged, spoiling a clean shot for the others. He roared as he sprang at me, always a stupid move as why announce what you're going to do? Arms up, he went in for an unfriendly strangle. Not nice at all.
I sidestepped, so the bulky goon slammed into the table. As I backpedaled to avoid getting shot, the fool sent papers, electronics, a lamp, and the silver box, flying.
Bones bent and retrieved the silver box, lifting it and smiling.
"Let's have a little look-see, shall we?"
There was no time, and before anyone could say a word, Bones smirked, eyes widening as he felt the power of my magic and what it contained. Even that wasn't a deterrent, and the utter fool eased open the lid even as his hands burned and he screamed.
I ran around the ruined desk, grabbed Ivan, and simply said, "Duck."
Yeah, that's right, we hid under the desk like scared kids, and we had every reason to be scared. Especially when the screams started.
Peekaboo
Ivan and I glanced at each other as the room turned hazy, before it went dark, really dark. Then I was on my own. I knew Ivan was beside me but couldn't see him, couldn't hear his breathing, or my own for that matter, as I figured pretending not to be here was the safest course of action.
Men screamed, the air itself seemed to howl, yet the angel said nothing, made no sound, just did whatever it was doing. Stuff I knew wasn't anything I wanted to be involved in.
The room rocked to the thunder of a gun being fired, then again, and again as men let loose in any direction. The sound was deafening in an enclosed space, but it gave me a chance to peek above the table and take a gander at what was going down.
There was a blur of black, too fast to make it out, and a guy firing wildly, eyes terror-stricken. In a flash, he was consumed by the shadows. He screamed, then fell, and the shape shifted to the next man, and the next, everything stuttering as though reality itself wasn't up to the task of containing this creature.