Urban Enemies

by Jim Butcher

  Hassan stood behind him. “What the—?” He moved forward and checked over the door. But from where Shiraz stood, he could see that the breaching charge had done no damage to the door itself. He frowned. Hassan was not the type to screw something up.

  Even still, his right-hand man looked back at him with fear in his eyes, as if scared Shiraz would punish him for his failure. Shiraz waved his hand.

  “It happens. Prepare another charge.”

  Hassan nodded and got to work. He took his time and placed significantly more explosives around the frame. When he was done, Shiraz noticed a line of sweat breaking out along Hassan’s hairline.

  “All set?”

  Hassan faced him. “I do not know what happened the first time, but I swear this time it will blow open.”

  Shiraz smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “As I said, it happens. Now let us see what your next charge will do.”

  They moved back to the basement and Hassan initiated the charge. This time, the boom was significantly louder and the room around them shook. More smoke clouded the hallway and Shiraz heard a shower of debris fall. He nodded to himself. This time the door was certainly destroyed.

  Except, it wasn’t.

  And when the smoke cleared, Hassan let out an audible gasp. “It cannot be.”

  He started to move closer to the door, but Shiraz stayed him with a hand to his shoulder. “Wait. Let me go forward.”

  Hassan stood aside as Shiraz passed him.

  As he approached the door, he could see that the second explosion had done nothing more to the door than the first. It was unscathed. Shiraz frowned. How could this be? Hassan was as reliable as they came with his explosives.

  But this.

  This was . . . unnatural.

  “Magic,” he breathed. The door had to be protected by something. Some arcane ritual was at work so that no one could pass without the proper authority.

  That was the only possible answer.

  But what sort of magic? He knew the vampire race had experts on the old rituals. Invokers could conjure the spirits of dead vampires. And there were others he’d heard whispers of . . . those who could work with magic as easily as they drew a breath.

  Indeed, the relic Shiraz sought was rumored to be magical. And full of the sort of power that he so desperately wanted for himself.

  But he hadn’t expected to run into a magical barrier keeping him from his quest.

  He turned back to Hassan and shook his head. “Unless you happen to know any magic, I think we are not going to be able to retrieve anything tonight.”

  Hassan bowed his head. “The explosives . . . perhaps they were less potent than we required.”

  “It’s not your fault,” said Shiraz. “I underestimated this woman. I thought her impetuous enough to keep the relic hidden behind a simple door. The fault is mine alone. Now the only problem we have before us is finding out who we can get to help us through the door.”

  “But who?” asked Hassan. “Who can we get to help us?”

  “An Enchanter,” said Shiraz. “I’ve heard rumors of their existence. But I never thought they might be actively employed by the Council to help protect things like this.”

  “They won’t agree to help us, though, will they?”

  Shiraz smiled. “Everyone has a price. Everyone has something they are willing to die for. It’s simply a matter of finding out what that something is and then using it to gain leverage over them.”

  “First we need to find one of these Enchanters,” said Hassan. “Do you even know where to look?”

  Shiraz nodded. “I would assume right here in Boston would be a safe bet. After all, if this was protected using magic, then the person who cast the spell must be nearby.”

  “Why so?”

  Shiraz cocked his head. “From what I’ve heard, the spells are stronger if they are cast by someone local to the area. Something about drawing power from the geography of the environment. But then again, I am not well versed in magic. I’m much more at ease dealing with people using a gun.”

  “Same,” said Hassan. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Get the men together. We’re leaving. I don’t want to be anywhere around when Ava returns. She’ll know someone was here.”

  Hassan nodded and turned to head back to the basement before he realized Shiraz wasn’t following and stopped. “Are you coming?”

  Shiraz waved him off. “I want another minute with the door. Go. I will catch up with you upstairs.”

  “Very well.”

  Shiraz turned back to the door and ran his hands over its surface. The wood felt solid. Old. And there, near the top, in script so small he hadn’t noticed it earlier, Shiraz saw the Taluk inscriptions.

  He tried reading them, but couldn’t even make out what the first word was. Taluk was such an ancient language that it had a myriad of variations that no one but the Elders of the vampire society could hope to read.

  Shiraz smiled. This only confirmed what he had suspected: that the relic was a truly powerful weapon in the right hands.

  Shiraz’s hands.

  He patted the door once more. “Very soon you will give up what I seek and you will belong to me forever.”

  Just then the lights went out.

  He frowned and turned. He’d given Hassan no such order to kill the power. Unless one of the other men had done it. The fools. He sighed and started back up the corridor toward the basement, stopping to take one final glance at the door with wistful eyes.

  “Soon.”

  He stepped into the basement and then froze.

  Something was wrong.

  He drew his pistol and slid the safety off.

  Blood.

  His nostrils flared at the scent that tinged the air. Not close, though. Upstairs? If it had been close, the scent would be more cloying. Heavy.

  Tangible.

  Shiraz moved into the basement and stopped close to the stairs leading up to the kitchen. He heard the muffled pops and then a loud thud as something dropped to the floor. He resisted the urge to call out for Hassan.

  He moved smoothly up the stairs, his senses primed as he brought the pistol up and then swung around the corner of the door into the kitchen.

  One of the men he had left here lay on the floor, a smear of blood already staining the tile. He was dead.

  Shiraz sank to his knees as he approached another doorway. He’d learned from his brothers that you never stood at normal height and looked around a corner. You always got smaller. And if you could lie down on the floor and do it, all the better. No sense risking getting your head blown off.

  With one eye, Shiraz peeked around the corner.

  The living room that led back to the foyer was dark. But a shape lay on the Persian carpet. And Shiraz knew that it was the other man they had brought with them.

  With two of his men killed and Hassan nowhere to be seen, Shiraz wished he had known these men. They’d served him well. The least he could do was know their names.

  Perhaps another time, he thought.

  He slid into the living room, keeping the pistol ready to bring up if a target presented itself. He thought he heard a noise behind him and pivoted easily, raising the gun and taking aim.

  He very nearly fired, too. But then froze.

  No.

  Not there.

  They’d made the noise to make him think that was where the threat was going to come from. But no—

  He pivoted again and squeezed off a single round.

  And watched as it punched directly into the sternum of Hassan.

  “No!”

  Hassan’s face showed shock as he dropped to his knees. He looked down at his chest. The wood-tipped bullet had torn his heart open and the wooden fragments in his blood were already killing him.

  Hassan might well have cried out in pain.

  But he couldn’t.

  His mouth was secured with duct tape. He stayed upright on his knees for another moment before falling forward
on his face. Shiraz saw now that Hassan’s hands had been bound behind his back using more of the same tape.

  Shiraz blinked. What had just happened?

  A small object bounced into the room directly between him and Hassan and even as Shiraz started to bring his gun up to fire again, the object exploded in a brilliant flash of light and sound.

  The effect was instantaneous. Shiraz lost his eyesight and hearing. His head swam. He tried to breathe. Tried to blink. Tried to get his head right.

  But to no avail.

  And then he felt his weapon being fleeced away, his wrist turned back in as a painful joint lock pinned him down on the ground. His vision started to clear but even as it did, he saw a large object coming straight for his head.

  It impacted with such force that Shiraz felt his teeth rattle.

  And then everything went black.

  “Welcome back.”

  Everything was still black. There was a blindfold around his eyes. He quickly took stock of himself. His head thundered from a serious bruise to his skull. He tasted copper in his mouth, which meant that he’d been bleeding. His arms were pinned behind him and he sat in some sort of chair. He couldn’t move his feet, either. He guessed that he’d been immobilized with the same duct tape that they used on Hassan.

  Bastards.

  Shiraz frowned and resolved to kill whoever had done this.

  “Would you like some water? Perhaps it will help clear out that bad taste in your mouth. After all, it can’t feel very good to be where you are right now.”

  A woman’s voice. Shiraz cleared his throat, tasting the blood and sputum, and then swallowed hard. “Who are you?”

  “I’m the person who got the drop on you. And I’m the person who killed your men. Rather easily, I might add.”

  “How did you know we would be here?”

  Laughter echoed across the room. “Do you think you are really so much a genius that a preschooler couldn’t figure out what your plans would be? After Syria, it was rather obvious you’d be coming for Lawson. And for the relic.”

  “What do you know of the relic?”

  “I know plenty. And I know that you are not going to get your hands on it. Ever.”

  “Big words from someone who doesn’t even have the courage to look me in the eye when she talks to me.”

  There was a pause and then without warning, the blindfold was ripped off. Shiraz blinked in the bright light that greeted him and made his head throb all the more.

  A woman.

  And he knew then who she was without even needing to think about it.

  “Ava.”

  She smiled, revealing her gleaming white teeth. She was dressed from head to toe in some sort of black coverall that was taut enough to show off her curves. Shiraz estimated that she would have been somewhere around fifty to fifty-five in human years. But she looked very good for her age.

  Very good, indeed.

  “Why did you kill my men?”

  “Because they were in the way,” said Ava. “And frankly, I can’t have a bunch of rogue vampires bumbling around and threatening to upset my grand plans. Can’t have that at all. No chance.”

  “Grand plans?”

  Ava bent forward and looked Shiraz in the eyes. “My plans.” She leaned back and laughed lightly. “That’s the problem with men. One of the problems. You always think so small. You’re all shortsighted. I can imagine that you only thought it through to the point where you got your hands on the relic. It would only be later that you would think about what to do with it. And by then, you would have drawn so much heat from the Council that it would be suicide to show your face anywhere.”

  Shiraz frowned. “And I suppose you’ve thought things through?”

  “Well, far more than you did,” said Ava. “That’s one of the benefits to being underestimated. People leave you alone. They don’t ever think that you’re capable of doing things, planning things. They think they can manipulate you, without ever seeing that you’re the one who’s been controlling their actions from the get-go. You allow them to think they’ve won, when in fact all they’re doing is simply playing into your hands. Most people are tragically susceptible to manipulation. It’s an art form, and one that I happen to be a master of. Much to the consternation of those I’ve destroyed over the course of my years in the service of my people.”

  Shiraz swallowed again. “So why keep me alive? You could easily kill me and be done with it.”

  Ava sighed and then pulled up another chair, settling herself on it before considering Shiraz for several moments. Then she folded her arms across her lap and pursed her lips. “Yes, well, that is the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Why did I choose to keep you alive? Why on earth would I risk exposing myself like this?”

  “Indeed,” said Shiraz. “From a security standpoint, it might not be your wisest move. After all, I’m fairly certain you are going against the Council by doing whatever it is that you are doing.”

  “The Council doesn’t know what is best for our people.”

  “And you do?”

  Ava smiled. “Of course. I have seen the Council wrecked by stodgy old fools whose only intent is preserving the status quo. I know what our kind requires. What it will mean to move us forward into the next millennium by assuming our rightful place here on this planet.”

  Shiraz shrugged. “Vampires have existed for thousands of years in secret. Now, all of a sudden, you’re going to move us out of the shadows into the light and let the humans know we exist? You’ll never make it. Any type of maneuvering like that would warrant your immediate sanction by the Council. You’d be dead before you even left the building.”

  “Only if they know about it. I’ve spent years putting the pieces into place. Moving assets that I will need when the time is right. It has taken me a great deal longer than I thought, mainly because every time I get close to implementing my plans, that bastard Lawson gets in the way. He hates me even if he doesn’t realize my true motives. He can’t move against me, either. Not while I am one of the most powerful members of the Council. I imagine I am as much a pain in the ass to him as he is to me.”

  “We both have our reasons.”

  “Of course,” said Ava. “He killed your two brothers. You are the only one left in your family.”

  “He will die by my hand,” said Shiraz.

  “You do realize that he was only carrying out orders from the Council?” asked Ava. “I doubt it was ever personal.”

  “The circle must be closed,” said Shiraz. “It is the only way to restore the honor of my family. I must be the one to kill him.”

  “The question now becomes: can I trust you?” Ava eyed Shiraz. “Because frankly, it’s fairly miraculous that I’ve let you live to this point. My instincts are all telling me to kill you and be done with it.”

  Shiraz grinned. “But you need someone to remove Lawson for you. If you do it yourself, there will be too many questions, you’ll be too exposed, and your plans will be revealed. But if I do it, then you will remain safely obscured. You can continue to plan your grand schemes without worry of discovery or of Lawson interfering.”

  Ava said nothing, but continued to look at Shiraz.

  Shiraz allowed his smile to widen. “My question to you is this: what do I get out of it if I agree to help you?”

  Ava raised an eyebrow. “Did I give you the impression that this was a negotiation?”

  “Everything is negotiation,” said Shiraz. “It’s just a matter of finding out what terms we will both find agreeable so that we can work together.”

  “That implies a partnership,” said Ava.

  Shiraz shrugged as much as he was able to do being bound to the chair. “Call it whatever you wish. I want to kill Lawson. And honestly, I would like to know what you plan to do with the relic and what you are planning to do to our people.”

  “Not what I will do ‘to’ our people, but what I will do ‘for’ our people. It’s a very important distinction. One I would hop
e you would recognize.”

  Shiraz nodded. “Fair enough. So, what will you give me in exchange for killing Lawson?”

  “The honor, as you said, of closing the circle for your family.”

  Shiraz shook his head. “That’s not enough. I need something more.”

  Ava stood and placed the chair back against the wall. “You’ll still have your life as well. I imagine that counts for a great deal.”

  Shiraz smiled. “I’m doing your dirty work, Ava. I deserve something for that. A piece of the pie, so to speak.”

  Ava sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” She moved closer to Shiraz, bringing her face inches away from his.

  Shiraz watched her approach. There was no denying her beauty. Her power radiated out from her pores, intoxicating the air and making him heady.

  “We could figure out a way to seal the deal,” said Ava as her lips brushed across Shiraz’s.

  “We could,” said Shiraz thickly. He swallowed and watched as Ava’s lips brushed his cheek and then continued toward his ear.

  She licked at his lobe. He could feel her hot breath against his skin.

  And then he felt the most indescribably poignant sensation, like a searing heat in his chest. He looked down as Ava moved away and saw something that didn’t seem to jibe with his expectations: a slim shaft of wood jutted from just below his sternum.

  Shiraz felt his breath coming in spurts as blood spilled from where the shaft had pierced his heart. He looked up at Ava.

  “Why?”

  Ava shook her head. “You’re too much of a liability to me. And you’d have leverage over me if I did choose to keep you around.”

  “But . . . I can kill Lawson . . . for you.”

  Ava laughed. “My dear fool, after everything you’ve witnessed here today, do you really think I need your help to take out one Fixer?”

  Shiraz felt his breathing coming slower now. His incisors had lengthened as well.

  Death was . . . close.

  He looked up at Ava one last time even as darkness came for him. “I will . . . have . . . vengeance.”

  Blackness came for him then and the very last sound he heard was of Ava laughing.

  “Not in this lifetime,” she said. “Not ever.”