Inn Between Worlds

by Thomas A Farmer

  When in doubt, she’d go with badass.

  She’d put on her favorite red leather pants, black tank and army boots.

  The tank left the scars on her right shoulder and arm bare for all to see. Scars were practically non-existent in Parata, where the doctors could fix almost anything except death and taxes.

  Made everyone look twice and wonder what the hell could create scars doctors couldn’t heal but still couldn’t kill her.

  The Agency ran Parata. It was the police force, the legislature, the executive, and the judicial. No separation of powers.

  No need for it, according to them.

  Agency Headquarters was a love child between the Pantheon and modern innovation, a thirty-story circular glass ass coming out of a Greek temple front big enough to eat the actual Pantheon as an afternoon snack.

  Zee walked up the wide steps and through the shield running between the columns. It prevented teleporting and detected stored spells, potions, and anything metallic.

  Which was why Zee’s assorted knives, lock pics and batons were ceramic and hard plastic.

  And very well concealed.

  The lobby was rose colored marble, with masterpieces from dozens of different realities lining the two big walls, prime minister portraits on one side, and the most wanted posters on the other.

  Zee walked straight to the back towards the circular desk guarding the opening to the hall holding the elevators. Agents walked through the shield guarding the hall. Visitors had to go through the receptionist or risk electrocution.

  The weekend morning receptionist was Mary Anders.

  And she loved Zee’s stories.

  Mary’s head was bent over a textbook and she didn’t look as Zee walked up.

  “Hey,” Zee said, knocking on the desktop.

  “Oh, hey,” she said, managing a smile even though there were bags under her eyes big enough to pack for a two-week trip to Europe in.

  Ah, made Zee miss her schooldays.

  Not.

  She nodded down at the lines of equations running amuck over the pages. “What the hell is that?”

  “Linear Algebra. See, you...”

  “Please.” Zee held up the mugs in defense. “Don’t try to explain that shit to me again. I majored in history, remember? Numbers are not my thing. Buzz me in?”

  “Oh!” Her eyes focused on Zee’s face and she frowned. “I got written up the last time I let you in.”

  “What’d they make you do?”

  “One of the psych professors turned me into a rat and had me run through her new rat maze for three hours. I was coughing up hairballs for a day. Do real rats even get hairballs?”

  Zee covered her mouth quickly. Poor Mary was claustrophobic. It wouldn’t be nice to laugh.

  “Did you hear about the big magic smack down in Rome last week?” Zee asked, leaning on the desk.

  Mary’s eyes inched up. If there was one thing Mary loved, it was gossip. “You know what happened?”

  Zee nodded.

  “You can’t. The Agency’s keeping it all hushed up. I haven’t even heard anything about it here.”

  “I know one of the vampires that was involved. He told me everything. Everything the Agency doesn’t want the rest of Parata to know.”

  Mary’s eyes flew wide and Zee knew she had her.

  Parata ran on magic and gossip. Witches loved gossip about vampires since they were the fringe dwellers of magic society. The Agency liked to spin them as the bad guys and that just made them more interesting to those not drinking the Kool-Aid.

  # # #

  A half an hour and one whispered story later, Zee stepped off the elevator on the nineteenth floor.

  Agents’ offices lined the hallway. With its intricate gold wallpaper and soft carpeting, it looked more like a hotel’s hall than a government’s. Secretary Jolnavich was over the fugitive apprehension section. His office was at the end of the hall.

  “Hey.” Zee knocked on his open door and his head jerked up, blue eyes stabbing through her as he looked at her over his glasses like a disappointed grandpa.

  “Who let you in?” he asked, gesturing for her to take a seat in front of his desk.

  Zee stayed standing and crossed her arms.

  “Jarred Krentz.”

  “No, he’s on the run. I’m pretty sure he didn’t let you in.”

  Zee grinned. “Cute. I want on the case.”

  “How did you hear about this?”

  “I have my sources.”

  “We’ve got it covered.”

  “So you found him?”

  “We will.”

  “That means no. You guys are swamped and you know it. Hire me and you can reassign the order looking for him. If I don’t find him within two Parata weeks, I’ll give you your money back.”

  And she did mean money. In Parata, the main currency was power. Want a latte from the coffee kiosk? Press your finger on the side of the espresso contraption and it’s spelled to suck in a thread of magic to pay for the drink. Witches passing into Parata every Sunday lost a tiny bit of power to the government’s treasury, which was used to maintain the reality and pay the public servants.

  Death wasn’t always certain when you lived in a magical reality, but taxes sure as shit were.

  Zee had power naturally, plus tons more stored. She didn’t need more of it nearly as much as she needed money that could be used in the main reality.

  Jolnavich leaned forward, pressing his meaty palms to the desk. “You have never come to us looking to get on a case. Why this one?”

  She let an evil grin tug up the corner of her mouth. “He’s the Coyote Order’s fire.”

  “We know that. So?”

  “The Coyote’s earth is an old school... friend.”

  He chuckled. “Let me guess, he showed you up in a class and you decided to hate him for eternity?”

  “She, but other than that, yup.”

  He shook his head. “This isn’t one guy running because he got caught smuggling. Krentz’s in the Chaos Kings.” He frowned. “You already knew that?”

  That was the problem with trying to play Jolnavich. He was an empath and could feel her lack of surprise.

  “I heard that’s why he’s being chased. What evidence do you have?”

  “Nice try.”

  “If you put me on finding him, you can put the agents to better use following up the Kings’ angle. I don’t want to get caught up in that mess. I just want to haul Krentz’s ass in.”

  “And this is just about an old grudge?”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t had a case in two weeks. I’m bored.”

  He eyeballed her and she steeled her nerves, meeting his eyes.

  Empaths couldn’t read what wasn’t there.

  And nobody could bury emotions like an ex street kid who’d lost the four people who had been bound to her by magic closer than family.

  He finally shook his head again. “You’re hired.”

  “Thank-you. Case file, please.”

  “What do I look like? Your damn assistant? Copy it yourself. It’s in the Zeus Order’s office.”

  The coffee in her belly rolled up and she pressed her lips together. “The Zeuses are on this case?”

  His smile was small and blew her evil one out of the water. “Did I forget to mention that? They’re on point. The other order on this will be reassigned, but I have to keep at least one working. Eggs in one basket and all that.”

  “Were they on this case before or after I invaded your office?”

  “Does it matter? They’re on it now.”

  “You’re a real bastard, Jolnavich.”

  “I know.”

  She left and grabbed the file out of the Zeus’ office. Maybe, just maybe, whoever was originally on the case would keep working on it, and Jolnavich wouldn’t go out of his way to tell the Zeus’s he’d planned on reassigning them.

  Wishful thinking, but she could only deal with one old enemy at a time.

  CHAPTER TH
REE

  “Chaos Candy is concocted with ingredients from many realities. None of which should have met,” James said over the phone once Zee was back in the main reality for the week.

  “Yeah, got that,” Zee said, stroking Sasha’s head with one hand and grabbing her wine with the other. “What I want to know is how, doc?”

  He drew a sharp breath and Zee grinned.

  “I have asked you repeatedly not to call me that, Sarah,” he said, British accent clipping off the words making him sound even more of a prig than he already did.

  “And I’ve asked you repeatedly not to call me Sarah.” She chuckled. “So, what does Chaos Candy do that makes it so bad? What makes it different than normal drugs?”

  “It disrupts the chemicals in the brain, bringing those who are unfortunate enough to try it to the edge of madness. This is no mere hallucinogen or euphoric. This drug enhances magic in our systems and gifts human users with magic. There is some mystery as to how, since the drug leaves little trace and taking one under its influence alive is… not feasible. However, we have found when ingested, it enhances not merely the magical potential in the person, but the magic potential in the reality.”

  “Oh boy. It makes more magic in the reality?”

  “Yes. And while more energy is not usually a bad thing, here, the energy is tainted with chaos. When the energy is released, chaos ensues. Hence the name. There is no known way to control it, nor to capture those under its influence until it is out of their system, at which point they want more. They either obtain it, or they die of withdrawal.”

  “And I thought smoking was hard to kick. Any leads on the Chaos Kings?”

  “None.”

  She rolled her eyes, scratching Sasha behind the ears. “James, if there’s one person in this reality who would be able to find and track them, it’s you. You’re telling me you have nothing?”

  “That is precisely what I am saying. I will see what information I can obtain; however, these people may as well be ghosts. They are not involved with the Smugglers’ Society. No vampires in my network are working with them. Their modus operandi is to kidnap, bribe and blackmail witches into helping them smuggle, and then erasing their memories once they are finished with them. Those that resist are killed.”

  “You think that’s what happened to Jarred?”

  He sighed. “Why does the Agency believe he is involved with them?”

  “One ingredient in Chaos Candy is a plant called the Urganta flower and the only known reality where it grows is Gort. A witch was arrested there last week. The Agency fed him a truth serum and he said he ran errands for the Kings on a case by case basis. One of his assignments was paying off agents. One of which was Jarred.”

  “Knowing their penchant for leaving their associates without their memories, I am not sure I would believe this man.”

  “Maybe they hadn’t wiped him yet because he was still working for them?”

  “Or perhaps they implanted false memories. Red herrings, if you will.”

  “See what you can find for me?”

  “For you, of course.”

  “And how would you like your payment,” she said, lowering her voice. “I’m thinking a-”

  “I am quite certain I do not want to know what crassness would follow that thought. My usual fee will suffice.”

  She snorted. “You give vampires everywhere a bad name. Aren’t you all supposed to be sexual deviants? You know I could teach you-”

  “Sarah!”

  “Awwwwww, sorry, I forgot sexual teasing offends your tender sensibilities.”

  “You are as crude and childish as Nathan.”

  “Yeah, I miss him. Tell him I say hi.”

  “Of course. I will call you with any information.”

  “Same here. Oh wait, can you try talking to your contact in the Agency? Something’s fishy with the report and I want to know what they’re saying amongst themselves.”

  “I would, however, that contact has ceased communications with me, and the last time I spoke with him, he told me to consume a bag of something quite graphic.”

  “Why do people say eat a bag of dicks like that’s an insult?” Zee asked. “As long as the dicks are washed, a whole bag of them sounds like one hell of a party to me.”

  “Sarah! Must you be so crass?”

  “What? I wouldn’t bring up eating dicks if I wasn’t willing to eat yours. I wouldn’t tease you like that, and it’s only polite.”

  “I… I…”

  She could almost see his mouth working on the other side of the phone.

  “I can not speak to you when you are like this,” he finally sputtered.

  Zee burst out laughing. “You are so much fun to tease. I’ve got to investigate some around here, but keep in touch? Tell me if you find anything?”

  “Of course.”

  She hung up the phone, taking a long sip of wine and staring at the file spread over the coffee table.

  “What now, baby?”

  Sasha licked Zee’s hand, setting her big head in her lap and pawing her leg.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Zee scratched her under her collar, grinning as Sasha’s tail went nuts. “I know. There’s always another angle. Just got to find it.”

  Zee wouldn’t have made it through her order’s death without Sasha.

  If witches had familiars in their reality, she would’ve been Zee’s.

  # # #

  Zee teleported to work near seven Monday morning.

  In the main reality, she ran an occult bookstore in Green Valley, a nice community on the outer edge of Vegas. The store gave her the opportunity to cover her other, less legal activities. It took nearly a decade to build her rep, but every witch in the reality knew Zee’s was the place to pick up the good stuff from the black market.

  Zee unlocked, made coffee, and went through her messages. Most were on books she was trying to track down, but a few were coded ones about items witches were wondering if she had.

  She was on her third cup and twelfth phone call when her assistant manager Penny Laundue bounced in. Zee set her up doing inventory and headed out, saying she was on the trail of a first edition Alice In Wonderland and Penny was in charge for the day.

  # # #

  The Coyote Order was based in Albuquerque. Zee teleported straight into Jarred’s apartment since he lived alone.

  She’d already been there before to ask him about a fugitive she was chasing since he was her favorite Coyote. His decorating style was very frat boy gone corporate. She guessed he kept the carpets and beanbags when he moved in after college and his order decorated the rest for him, but she’d never asked.

  Now it looked like a scene from CSI: Parata.

  The couches, chairs, and beanbags were all sliced open, their guts tossed around the room like the Hannibal Lector of furniture went after them. The shelves, lamps, plants, and knickknacks were overturned or thrown in corners. The walls were cut open every few feet.

  In the kitchen, the dishes were dumped out of the cupboards, half lying smashed on the counters and floor. The fridge lay open, stuff falling out like intestines. The room reeked of spoiled food mingling with air freshener. She went down the hall and the bedroom, study, and bathroom were all just as bad.

  “Holy fuck,” Zee said, pulling up her magic sight.

  Witches had natural abilities besides their elements, usually two or three. The most she’d heard of was six. She had two, teleportation and the ability to see magic. Usually spells faded after a few hours, but these were so thick they’d be here for days.

  The remnants of tracking and scrying spells lay over everything like fingerprint dust.

  The most prominent color was a teal and purple swirl. Probably the main agent on the case, but for all she knew, one or more of these signatures was from members of the Chaos Kings.

  Zee pulled her kit out of her purse and took samples of the spells, locking them in plastic baggies. There were at least half a dozen, a few more that could’ve been mixe
s. Whatever went down here, it’d been huge. But battle or just spells to find Jarred, she couldn’t be sure.

  And if Agents had been here, either trying to capture Jarred or investigating, why didn’t it say so in the file?

  Zee packed it up and headed back to her store. There wasn’t much to be done with the samples until she could get to the witches’ database in the main reality, and the best time to get in without detection was at night.

  # # #

  “Hey, Sampson,” Zee said, leaning back in the chair in her inner office. It was a third of the size of the outer office, and just a desk, shelves of files on the magical inventory, and juuuuust enough room to walk between them. “It’s Zee.”

  “Hello, Sarah.”

  She rolled her eyes. Why did her most useful smuggling friends have to be the two guys in the reality who insisted on using her first name? “Do you know anything about the Chaos Kings?”

  “Down to business as always,” Sampson said, Irish accent gravely with age.

  “You know it. So, anything?”

  “Why would I know anything about them?”

  “Because you’re one of the best smugglers in the reality.”

  “Flattery will get you everywhere. Just not now. I haven’t even been approached by the Kings.”

  “Really?”

  “I will admit I am a bit surprised myself, but yes.”

  The Kings subcontracted and recruited agents for crying out loud. Why wouldn’t they go to the guy with the record for the most smuggling arrests without one conviction?

  “Have they come to you?” Sampson asked.

  Zee froze. “Um, no.”

  “Hum.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Why haven’t they tried hiring me? I’m one of the best smugglers and everyone in the underground knows I’m no fan of the Agency. You, me and James are at the top of the smugglers’ list, at least of the people the Agency hasn’t locked away. You and I have managed to keep everything looking legal, and James is a vampire that erased all his info from Agency databases and is just too powerful to capture. But they haven’t asked any of us. You would think we’d be shoo ins.”

  “Maybe they thought we wouldn’t help since we’ve never smuggled drugs.”