Edward had enjoyed his new life so far. Power, wealth, sex—what wasn’t to like? He got to play a tough guy, just like the mobsters in the movies he’d loved when he was alive. It had been daunting at first, pretending to know people he’d never met and trying hard to fit in, to not give away that he wasn’t who they thought he was, but he’d managed. Maybe the fear Tony Amiratti inspired in people had helped. But since taking possession of Tony’s body, Edward had given them all new reasons to fear him.
A police car rolled slowly down the street. Edward grinned in satisfaction. The others were arriving right on schedule, eager as he was not to disappoint their Master. Bedrik was already angry over Wells’ failure. If they screwed this up…he shuddered, unable to contemplate the ramifications.
The car pulled to a stop in front of the house and two men got out. They glanced in his direction, looking at the bushes where he was hiding, and then quickly turned away.
Careful, you morons, he thought. Don’t let him know I’m here.
The others approached the house and Edward tensed, preparing himself.
“Showtime!”
789
Gustav felt their presence seconds before they knocked on the door; three men who were not men but something else.
He glanced at the bedroom. Danny’s mother slept soundly. He’d checked on her throughout the day and was satisfied with her progress. Another twelve hours or so and she’d awake, fully recovered.
Moving quickly, he ducked into the kitchen and rubbed salt onto his hands, feeling the tiny grains scratch against his calluses.
The knock came again, insistent. Gustav crossed the room and opened the door. Two policemen stood on the porch. Their badges glinted in the late-afternoon light. Their uniforms were crisp and clean. The men were young, mid-thirties, and in strong physical shape. One of them wore a gold wedding band. The other had a neatly trimmed mustache. Their police car sat at the curb, washed and glinting in the evening sunlight. But despite appearances, Gustav knew the men were not police officers. Oh, they had been, once. But no longer. Something else was inside them now—someone else. The dead lived, walking the earth in borrowed bodies.
The policemen who were not policemen didn’t smile.
He’d felt three presences, and wondered where the third had gone.
“Good afternoon, sir,” said the first. His nametag read, ‘STINE’. The other’s nametag said, ‘PUGLISI’.
Nodding, Gustav returned their frowns.
“How may I help you?”
Stine hooked his thumbs into his belt and hitched up his pants. “We had a noise complaint, sir. Care if we come inside and have a look?”
“Da, I care. I do not invite and you cannot cross.”
“Police business, sir. We do have the legal right to search these premises if we have reason to believe—”
“A policeman could, yes,” Gustav interrupted. “But you are not policemen. Nyet. You are not men at all. You are little shades, playing at being men. Is not Halloween, little spirits. Take off your costumes and return where you came from.”
Puglisi reached for his sidearm and Stine took another step forward. With a speed that belied his age, Gustav’s hand shot out. He grabbed Stine’s arm and pulled with his mind. Stine jerked as if electrocuted. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came forth. Gustav’s fingers dug into his flesh, squeezing. Darkness flowed from Stine’s pores and orifices, forming into a shadow and hovering above the body.
Puglisi fumbled with his holster, obviously unused to it. Without releasing his grip on Stine, Gustav laughed at the other.
“Your master should have given you more time to get used to your new body. You’re slow on the draw, ‘pardner’. Not make good cowboy. Me, I watch many westerns. I will show you.”
Gustav cocked his free hand like a pistol and pointed it at Puglisi. A bolt of energy erupted from his fingertip and hit the officer in the chest. Such an attack, launched by a more inexperienced magician, would have had much more explosive results. But under Gustav’s control, the shade inside Puglisi flowed from his pores, mouth, and nose, just like the other had.
Both shades floated in the air, tethered to their hosts by a thin wisp of shadow. Then Gustav made a scissors motion with his hand and the shades screamed.
“I have bound thee,” Gustav shouted. “Now I sever those ties. You thought to challenge me, no? I have defeated the Nerpa in the cold wastes of my home. I have spoken with the Siqqusim and wrestled with Belial and danced with Pan as the leaves change color. I have walked through fire and rain and the spaces in between. You have no power over me.”
The shades began to dim.
“You will not return to your graves,” Gustav continued. “Nyet. You will not go to next plane or the Labyrinth or anywhere else. Even the Void is not for you. No Heaven. No Hell. You are not even dust. You return to nothing.”
As he spoke, the shades faded until there was nothing left. The soulless bodies collapsed on the front step like sacks of flour.
Gustav stared at the police car.
“Easy to deal with shades,” he grumbled. “Harder to make car and bodies vanish.”
He stepped out onto the porch and dragged the lifeless officers inside. Then he straightened up, wincing at the pain in his back.
“Now,” he muttered, “where did third one go?”
He no longer sensed the third’s presence. Could he have been mistaken initially? Could there have only been the two? He hurried to the bedroom to check on Danny’s mother. When he opened the door he cursed.
Danny’s mother was gone.
The bedroom window was open. The curtains fluttered gently in the breeze. The sheets on the empty bed still held her body’s impression. He could still smell her perfume—the only lingering trace that she’d been there. Gustav ran to the window and looked outside. There was no sign of anyone. He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, but felt no presence. Whoever had abducted her—if indeed she’d been abducted—was already gone. How could he have been so stupid? The policemen were only a distraction, keeping him occupied while Bedrik got his real target. But why was Bedrik interested in Danny’s mother? Gustav opened his eyes and turned back to the bed.
I have her, old man.
The voice inside his head belonged to Michael Bedrik.
Why, Gustav asked. She is not part of this.
Perhaps, but the boy most certainly is. And if either of you want to see her alive again, you’ll both be at the Gethsemane Cemetery at midnight. Don’t dally. Don’t be late. And come alone. Just the two of you. No one else. If I learn that you’ve informed anyone else, especially your precious Kwan, death will be the least of her worries. Every Hell I know I will make her suffer. Do I make myself clear?
Gustav didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he snapped off the telepathic link as easily as turning off an appliance. A slow smile spread across his face. Bedrik wanted Danny to accompany him to the graveyard.
That was perfect.
Gustav turned his attention back to the two dead bodies and the abandoned police car, intent on cleaning up all loose ends. He’d have to use magic, reluctant as he was to do so. It was the only way to make them disappear quickly and safely. Doing so would leave him taxed for tonight’s confrontation, but that was okay.
He knew where he could get more power.
789
The house felt wrong. That was the first thing Danny noticed when he burst through the door. His mother’s car was still in the driveway, but there was no sign of her or Gustav. The television blared to an empty living room. Phil Donahue was arguing with people who didn’t believe in paying child support. Danny switched the channel to The Transformers without even thinking about it, and then turned the volume down.
“Gustav?” he called. “Mom?”
There was no response. The furniture was all in place, the shades drawn, just as he’d left it that morning, but something still seemed…off.
He checked the bathroom, but the door was wide open and
there was nobody inside. Trying to ignore the feeling of dread building inside of him, Danny made his way down the hall to his mother’s bedroom. It was empty. The window was open. Gnats buzzed into the room. He called out again, louder this time, but got no answer. Outside, the breeze shifted, making the curtains around the open window rustle. Danny sniffed the air. He smelled something pungent burning in the back yard. The barbeque grill? No, that didn’t make sense. After a moment, he realized what it was—burning hair.
He ran back down the hall, stepped through the sliding glass doors in the kitchen, and darted out onto the patio. Gustav was stooped over the grill, his back to Danny. He was muttering something under his breath, a phrase or spell, not in English or Russian but a language Danny had never heard before. The barbeque grill’s lid was closed, but thick, black smoke and flickers of orange flame shot out from beneath it. Danny’s eyes watered. Here was the source of the stench.
Gustav did not turn around. “One second, boy. Am almost finished.”
“What are you doing? Where’s my Mom? What’s burning in the—”
Gustav did not turn around. Instead of responding, He merely held up a hand for silence.
Danny did his best to stay quiet. He moved away from the choking smoke and staggered out into the yard. He saw no sign of his mother. The yard was full of weeds and trash. A leaning, sun-bleached fence separated their property from the alley. As Danny glanced around, he noticed something odd in the alley. There was one spot immediately behind his home where his vision grew blurry. He turned his head back and forth. Every time his eyes came to rest on that one place, his vision went out of focus. He’d read about this effect at Gustav’s, had experienced it first hand when he’d discovered Martin Bedrik’s body along the Hudson—even though he hadn’t known it at the time. Hiding in plain sight—Oriental magic, more a trick of the mind than anything else. Ninjas used it, and Danny thought ninjas were cool, especially Snake Eyes on G.I. Joe. That’s why he’d remembered it. He also remembered how to overcome it.
He stared directly at the blurred area and let his eyes un-focus. It was harder than the book had made it sound. He kept going cross-eyed in the attempt. Behind him, Gustav continued chanting softly, ignoring him. Danny tried again, seeing everything and nothing. His vision blurred again and then—
—swam into focus. The hidden object appeared.
A Brackard’s Point police car.
“Hey, Gustav, did you know there’s a—”
“Nyet,” the old man barked. “Ten more seconds.”
Danny sighed in frustration, and held his tongue.
Finally, Gustav turned around to face him. The old man tried to smile, but faltered. The smoke and flames inside the grill died down, but the stench still filled the air. Danny stared at the grill, and then his mentor. He gasped, noticing that Gustav’s hands were bloody. The old man picked up a roll of paper towels and a bottle of degreaser that had been left beside the grill and proceeded to clean them. As he scrubbed his hands, he looked up at Danny.
“Now, you had questions, yes?”
“You’re damn right I have questions. One, where’s my Mom? Two, is that blood on your hands? Three, what’s in the grill? Dinner? Because if it is; then it smells horrible. Four, do you realize there’s a cop car back there?”
“Yes.” Gustav nodded his head. “Yes, yes, and yes. Your mother is not here. Yes, this is blood. No, is not dinner on grill. Is very old magic. Make fire hot enough to burn meat and bone and teeth to ash very, very quickly. I think you do not want to eat what I’m cooking. And yes, that is a police car. It is our ride later on tonight.”
Danny barely heard any of it. “What do you mean she’s not here? Where’s my Mom?”
Gustav lifted the hot barbeque lid and dropped the bloody paper towels inside it. Danny saw a mound of ash inside, and wondered what it was. Then Gustav closed the lid and stepped towards Danny. His expression was solemn, and when he answered, his voice was low and mournful.
“Bedrik has her.”
Danny tried to speak, and couldn’t. The yard seemed to spin. Swooning, he reached out and grabbed the fence to steady himself. When Gustav spoke again, the old man’s voice sounded like he was far away.
“He sent his shades. I fought two of them. A third took your mother. But I know where she is, yes? We will get her back. Will get him, too.”
Danny shook his head. His ears rang and his knees felt weak.
“You said you’d protect her…”
“I did.” Gustav’s tone was sad. “And I am sorry, Danny. I did my best. But it was three against one, and I am an old man. I think I do good, despite the odds.”
“Do good?” Danny let go of the fence and lurched unsteadily towards him. “Good? That crazy fucker kidnapped my mother. How did you do good?”
“I dispatched two of his shades. Bedrik looses power, yes? And I know where he has taken her. To the cemetery. We will meet him there. We will finish this, and rescue your mother.”
“How? If you weren’t strong enough to take on three shades at once, then how are we going to fight him? He’ll probably have a whole army up there with him.”
Gustav stroked his beard. “He may. But I have tricks up my sleeve, too. And I have you. We go together, yes?”
Danny nodded.
“But first,” Gustav turned back to the house, “we rest. You expended power on the way here. I know. I felt it. I did, too. Both of us rest and then we go.”
“Rest? We’ve got to go now!”
“No. Midnight. Those are his terms. He has chosen the location and the time. We must adhere. If we go before, he might hurt your mother. We need to be strong first. And I still need to finish cleaning up, yes?”
Danny stared at the old Russian’s hands. “Looks like you got all the blood off.”
“Yes,” Gustav agreed. Then he bent over and rummaged through a plastic garbage bag. He held up two police uniforms, along with underwear and socks. “But have not taken care of these yet.”
“Where did you get—never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“Da, you do not.”
Shaking his head, Danny went back inside the house and tried to rest. He didn’t think midnight would ever arrive.
But it did.
Before they left, Gustav slipped a salt shaker into his pocket and insisted that Danny do the same. He did not explain why.
They climbed into the abandoned police car. Gustav drove. Danny stared out the window and watched the town pass by. He thought of Ronnie and Jeremy. Chuck and Matt. Val and the other kids at school. His friends from the Hill. The assholes from Snowdrop. Everyone in between. He thought of his mother, and of his father, and wished that his Dad was here now. But he wasn’t. In the end, this place had killed him. Now it would probably kill Danny, too. He’d always hated Brackard’s Point. Had always wanted to leave. For all he knew, he might very well be doing just that tonight. Leaving. There were no guarantees that they’d return from Gethsemane. This could be his last look. Danny shivered, afraid. Gustav turned on the heater. Hot air blew gently across their feet.
They drove in silence. Soon, Danny felt better. He reminded himself that with Gustav at his side, there wasn’t anything to be afraid of. Gustav was his friend. Gustav cared. Gustav would protect him and his mother—protect them all.
“Everything’s going to be okay, right?”
“Da. You will see. Everything will be just fine. Soon, we all be back to normal.”
789
A few minutes later, after they’d grown quiet again, Gustav glanced over at Danny and gave him a reassuring smile. Then he looked into the rearview mirror. He kept his expression neutral, careful not to give anything away. The road and the town were lost beneath a sea of black. The darkness was following them, flowing after the car like a wave, just as he’d hoped it would.
The darkness wore the face of a dead man.
ELEVEN
Bedrik knelt in the center of the graveyard, carefully scrawling marks int
o the ground at his feet. He took caution to make sure that they were correct, every nuance and curve, every line and squiggle. He disliked this part, using his hands. He much preferred to have his minions do the grunt work. He favored magic through concentration, cause and effect through mental strength rather than physical. But sometimes, a magus had to get their hands dirty—or bloody. Or both. Like cutting up sweet Dana in his basement; or what he was doing now—scratching symbols of protection into the soil.
The sky promised more rain. Thick clouds covered the moon. He’d need light for what was about to occur, so he’d once again summoned the lightning bugs—calling them in from far away. Had there been any pedestrians on the street, and they happened to look towards Gethsemane, they’d have thought it was snowing insects. Thousands of fireflies descended on the cemetery, blanketing the treetops with their mass. Now, dazzling balls of luminous green-yellow light hovered over the graves.
Finished with the last symbol, Bedrik stood. He brushed the dirt from his hands and looked at the designs, nodding with satisfaction. Only three people in town would be able to see them—him, and the two who were on their way. Bedrik raised his head, feeling the breeze. He felt them drawing nearer. Felt the boy’s anger and the old man’s apprehension.
He turned to his subordinates, the former Sam Oberman and Tony Amiratti Junior. They stood next to an old, moss-covered crypt, the white stone graying with age and pitted from exposure to the elements. The boy’s mother was tied to the stone with black silk ropes. The silk was a crucial element—a requirement, as was its color. She was naked, her mouth gagged, eyes blindfolded with another swath of silk.
“Mr. Rammel,” he said to Amiratti, “when they arrive, you will stand by the woman. You will not act unless I command you to, and then you will act swiftly. If I tell you to do it, you will pick up that onyx blade and cut her throat.”
“Got it,” Edward replied. “You want I should call some of Amiratti’s men and have them on standby, too?”
Shades Page 10