by Josh Vogt
Destin ticked his pen back and forth. “I am aware of that fact.”
“Well, whoever was behind this one hijacked it. Turned it into a communication spell, another thing we didn’t know was possible. He spoke to me. Or tried to. I think he’s in trouble. Maybe bein’ tortured, driven insane by his own divided powers, however he got ’em. And that’s not figurin’ in the blot-hound I had to put down twice last night.” At Destin’s questioning look, Ben clarified, “The one that jumped back up after I’d already torn out its core. Stronger than before. Like somethin’ or someone was fuelin’ it.”
The Chairman poised his chin over interlaced fingers. “Why wasn’t I made aware of that?”
“It was in my report on Dani here.”
Destin shook his head. “I reviewed the facts of her recruitment but saw nothing about any blot-hound anomaly.”
“Then maybe you and Francis oughta have a little chit-chat. Meantimes, we gotta figure out what’s causin’ all this twisted business.”
“If there is such a threat, then it must be dealt with,” the Chairman said. “Yet I admit to hesitation. If both cores were available for comparison, it could be proved that they came from the same construct. Without them, the story is suspect—not that I consider it such. But even Dani’s witness can be disregarded as the mistake of a new employee who doesn’t yet know what she saw.”
“Don’t pull this blather, Destin. We need to get everyone on high alert. It’s gonna cause a sh … er … spitstorm if someone’s figured out a way to combine the energies of both Pantheons.”
“I will, of course, notify the necessary parties, but I won’t spread unsubstantiated rumors that might cause more chaos and distraction than the actual problem.”
Ben stood and made fists. “What happened to the Destin who preferred action over borough cracks?”
“Bureauc—” Dani started to correct. At his look, though, she fell silent.
Ben fixed on the Chairman again. “Huh? What happened to the guy who shattered an entire sheet of blackshards before we could even see our reflections in their panes?”
“He became Chairman of the Cleaners, Benjamin. I’ve not forgotten our time in the field, but I have a different perspective now. Different priorities.”
“Oh, sure. I guess you do get all sortsa new perspectives when your head gets stuck up your—”
“Janitor!” Destin shot to his feet. “You overstep yourself. My position and influence has kept you with this company thus far, and I find your ungracious attitude tiresome. I am responsible not just for my own life and yours, but for all the Cleaners in this country, not to mention coordinating with our global efforts.” He riffled the papers on his desk. “Did you think I sort through these just to keep my desk tidy? That I limit our conversation because I might be late for a round of golf? Benjamin, you know me better than that. While I would love nothing more than to hold your hand, I am pressed on a hundred sides. Any decision I make could affect thousands, if not millions of lives. Be glad you do not have that weight on your soul.”
Ben looked—not cowed, but sobered. A bull who’d just been reminded of the ring through his nose. His jaw remained jutted in the face of Destin’s lecture, but the blaze in his eyes dwindled to a rebellious flicker. After half a minute, he looked aside, breaking the standoff.
“You have my approval to continue searching for the source of this disturbance,” Destin said, retaking his seat. “But for now that’s all I can offer. As soon as you provide me with evidence that I can use to convince the Board this warrants further attention, I will have a full contingent of Ascendants to back you up.” He waved a gloved hand in dismissal. “I give you leave to clear your next week’s calendar in order to pursue this concern, but don’t barge back in here until you have something concrete.”
Ben crossed his arms. “I’m a janitor, Destin. Not a pay-per-day private eye. Francis or Jack are better equipped to check up on this. Plus, neither of them are …” A glance Dani’s way. “Distracted.”
Oh, that boosted her confidence a whole ton.
“I don’t send Ascendants chasing shadows,” Destin said. “That would be a gross abuse of the power invested in them. And the more people we involve, the more chance we take in spreading uncertainty among our ranks. You can more easily maintain a low profile.”
“With this chickadee in tow? Ain’t likely.”
Dani’s fists bunched as her blood pressure rose. Chickadee? What era did this moron think they lived in? The next time he threw some sexist comment her way, she’d have to decide whether to bloody his nose or knee his crotch. On second thought, neither of those offered sanitary targets. Maybe she’d just throw something at him. Like one of the Chairman’s paperweights.
“Having her at your side will provide the experience she lacks,” Destin said. “As you are fond of saying, is not the best teaching found through action?”
“I ain’t gonna expose an apprentice to an unknown danger when she’s already dealin’ with enough as it is. You knew the risk of puttin’ her with me in the first place.”
That drew Dani’s brows and lips down. Risk? What kind of risk could the old man pose? Besides spitting or hacking on her, that is. The way he hobbled around made her afraid he’d break a hip the next time he lifted his cart.
Destin stood and came around the desk, placing himself between them. Despite only being an inch or two taller than her, his nearness made Dani feel like she’d shrunk a foot.
“I am decided, Benjamin. We each do our part in this.” He smiled at Dani, revealing clean, straight teeth. His eyes held an electric hue. “And you, my dear? How have you been enjoying your time with us so far?”
She fought to not squirm and wring her hands. She once more became aware of her myriad smells, greasy hair, and sweaty palms. How could he stand being near her? She wanted to tear her skin off and scrub herself down to the bone.
His smile widened. “Don’t fear. I appreciate honesty above all else.”
Ben snorted, but Destin remained focused on her.
“It’s been …” She swallowed again. “Messy.”
Destin’s laugh ricocheted through the room. It jolted her, bringing another wave of shame. She’d never be clean. Not on her own. She was sullied to the core, and couldn’t do anything about it.
“Is there anything I can do to soothe this difficult transition for you?” he asked.
“She misses her lizard,” Ben said.
Destin blinked. “Indeed?”
Through simmering humiliation, Dani murmured, “Just a pet. I take care of him. He’s probably really hungry.”
“While I sympathize,” said Destin, “we do not allow Cleaners to keep pets. They are often sources of pestilence and filth.”
“But …” She despised her whimpering tone. “He’s cute. And funny, and smart … and …”
Destin placed a hand on her shoulder and she flinched. Not because she disliked the touch, which felt warm even through the gloves and suit, but because she feared his palm might come away soiled.
“There is a reason cleanliness has always been close to godliness.” He kept his hand on her, rubbing a few hairs between his fingers, an oddly comforting, yet mortifying gesture. “Soon enough you will come to see the greater purpose the Cleaners can give you, and the honor it is to serve the Pantheon. A creature such as this … Tetris … would only serve as a distraction. I’m sure an intelligent woman such as you knows the many bacterial strains reptiles carry. Salmonella. Campylobacter …”
His litany sounded uncomfortably familiar, and Dani’s resistance slowly buckled under it. She bowed her head, feeling like a speck of dirt he could flick off his suit at any second. She was a wretch. How didn’t she understand before? The Cleaners had saved her from a worthless life and given her a chance to achieve true significance. They had every right to toss her aside right then, and she’d beg to be given another chance.
A tiny part of her mind raised a hand. Excuse me? Exactly when did we become
this guy’s little *****?
Indignation sliced down her brainstem and stiffened her spine. Sucking a deep breath through her nostrils, she snapped her head up and glared at Destin.
“What kind of **** are you trying to pull? I already feel bad enough, as it is. Who the **** do you think you are?”
Destin’s eyes lost their shimmer.
Ben chuckled behind her. “Good on yah, princess.” He moved between them, making Dani shuffle back. “Lookee here, Destin. It’s been a long day, a’ight? We’ll let you get back to signin’ all those big, important papers.”
Destin stared past Ben, fixing Dani with … not icy eyes, but they definitely had some slush in them. She struggled to meet that gaze, but kept glancing aside, cheeks aflame. So much for asking about the decontamination room.
Then his thin smile returned, and his amiable personality clicked back into place.
“I look forward to hearing that this problem is resolved.” He moved back around to his chair and settled in. “I am sure you won’t disappoint me.”
With that, the Chairman bent back to his papers. Ben blew him a wet kiss and headed for the elevator. Dani followed, and they rode back down to the bright hall. As they stepped out of the window and into the garage, Ben glanced at her appraisingly.
“Anyone toldja you got great people skills?” he asked. “’Cause they lied.”
“I didn’t … I wasn’t …” Her shoulders slumped. “What happened up there?”
His laugh echoed around, full of unexpected warmth. “You did somethin’ not many people can. You made Destin remember he ain’t got everyone lickin’ his shoes clean. Proud of you.”
“Proud?”
“Sure for shootin’. In fact, what say we grab a drink to celebrate?”
“A drink?”
“Yeah. Gotta wet this whistle if I’m gonna keep bossin’ you ’round. ’Sides, I need time to think.”
Dani massaged the back of her neck. Her encounter with the Chairman had left her with a slight headache. Even now she imagined his bright eyes monitoring her from an unseen corner.
A drink might not be a bad idea, after all.
***
Chapter Eight
Standing outside the bar, Ben kept one eye on Dani back over by the van. She had raided the shelves for soaps and scrubs and then worked herself into a frenzy, giving herself what amounted to a sponge bath in the parking lot. Ben couldn’t count how many wipes and paper towels she’d gone through. At this rate, he’d have to restock by morning.
Though, he supposed he couldn’t blame her, especially after a truck in front of them had belched black exhaust out of its pipes, which had wafted in through the air vents. That had nearly sent her leaping out her door into moving traffic.
“Gotta admit,” he murmured, “It’s kinda nice havin’ someone along for the ride.”
Carl spun into a testy whirlpool.
Ben patted it absently. “Aw, c’mon, buddy. You know I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just good to have someone who’s willin’ to look me in the eyes and share a drink.”
Another spritz of discontent.
“Yeah, but we both know what happened last time you tried alcohol. Took forever to get you outta the pool.” He drummed fingers on the bottle. “Destin should’ve given her to someone else, but I’m kinda glad he didn’t, despite my better judgment.”
A questioning bubbling.
“Why? I dunno. Wait, that ain’t true.” Ben tugged and pushed at the saggy skin of his cheeks and throat. “I wanna see her safe. See her through this and know she’s gonna make out it the other end with everythin’ intact. One last good thing finished before I go. One last taste of what it’s like to make a difference. For the better, y’know?”
The water elemental gurgled in reprimand, and Ben’s grin went lopsided.
“Me? Morbid? Naw. Just gotta be realistic. Ain’t you the one always tellin’ me to prepare for the worst?” He frowned. “Mebbe Francis is right. Mebbe Destin screwed the pooch on this one. At least she ain’t makin’ it easy. Gonna go out in glory or flames with this one.”
Carl splashed and fizzed.
“Heh. Yeah. She does remind me a bit of—”
“Hey, you okay?”
Ben twitched and straightened so fast his hips crackled. Dani had appeared at his side without warning. Her gloves, suit, and face gleamed like wax in the glare of the bar’s buzzing neon signs. At least her eyes had gone from deer-in-the-headlights to deer-ready-to-ram-a-semi.
He braced a hand in the small of his back and forced a grin. “Yup. Carl and I were just remissionin’ about the good ol’ days.”
“You mean reminiscing.”
“Ain’t that what I said?”
He pushed the bar door open, and a gust of stale alcohol, hot wing sauce, and grease slapped them in the face. Dani reeled, coughing, while Ben inhaled it like the perfume of a long-lost lover. Once he got a good look at the place, however, his eagerness lessened.
A subtle fog of decay spotted the place, visible only to those eyes attuned to such energies. Clumps of it lurked in the corners like sulking cats, while wisps of Corruption writhed around table and chair legs.
Beside him, Dani recovered and planted fists on slim hips as she frowned at the dimly lit interior. Neon blue lights hung over a long mirror which reflected the cherry wood bar and shelved bottles. Booths stretched along the brick walls, most of them empty and yawning like gaps in a row of teeth.
“You really know how to make a girl feel special,” she said.
Ben sniffed, trying to detect the cause of the dank odor. Did the lights seem dimmer than usual? The woodwork grimier?
“I assume you’re wantin’ a drink of your own?” he asked, shuffling in. “’Cause I ain’t sharin’.”
“Yeah,” Dani said. “I can still taste dust on the back of my tongue. But only if you’re paying.”
“On the house.” Ben waved at the bartender, who nodded back. “Did a favor for the owner a few years back. Cleaned a buncha mold outta the cellar.”
“Whoa. Mold. Scary.”
“This kinda mold ate brain tissue and made folks into hosts before we scrubbed it out. Since then, I check in once a month or so, just in case it tries to make a comeback.”
“You’re joking.”
“Too old to waste time makin’ these things up, princess. In exchange, I get a cozy place to come and churn the ol’ noggin in peace. The beer ain’t half bad either, if you ain’t a priss about it.”
“No promises.”
As they walked over to a booth, the pain in Ben’s arm ratcheted up a few notches. At the same time, the disturbance reasserted itself. Stronger now. Almost a presence.
He’d always had a hard time understanding how he sensed Corrupt energies. It was like a foul wind slapping him in the face, or like holding the positive end of a magnet while the Corrupt powers shoved his way with a negative one.
The bar looked normal. A few men mumbled in side booths. A group of leather-clad bikers laughed in a back corner over a game of cards. Solitary drinkers peered into their mugs as if they were scrying pools.
“Something wrong?”
Dani’s question made him realize he stood half-crouched, one hand on the bench he’d been sliding into. She already lounged against the red cushioning, arms crossed.
Ben sat opposite her and scanned the room again. Whatever had his instincts raring, it remained outta sight. If it was a smart little bugger, it’d stay that way.
“Mebbe,” he said.
“Okay.” She drew the word out. “Should we do anything about it?”
“Mebbe.”
A roll of her eyes. “Maybe we could try being a little more decisive.”
“Nah,” he said. “Just … stay alert. Go get yourself a drink and grab me whatever stout they have on tap while you’re at it, won’tcha?”
She saluted and murmured. “Aye, aye, cap-i-tan.”
“Cute.”
O O O
She avoided eye contact with the scruffy patrons as she picked her way over to the bar. Despite her heavy boots, she side-stepped puddles of beer, spilled condiments, and a minefield of mysterious splotches on the floor.
For a janitor, Ben sure did pick a rat’s nest to hang out in. Of course, it fit his image and personality well enough. Did the higher-ups at the Cleaners know he frequented this place? Would they approve? Maybe he couldn’t afford a tab anywhere else. Did the Cleaners offer overtime or hazard pay? She doubted it.
As she studied the place, the bartender came over and plunked his elbows down.
“What’ll it be?” His peppy tone contrasted with the rundown atmosphere.
Golden hair had been slicked back over his ears, and he wore a t-shirt printed to look like a tuxedo jacket. He had long, bare arms—shaved, she noticed—and black leather gloves on his hands. Tattered jeans and tennis shoes completed the look. Attractive in a stray puppy sort-of way. The gloves caught her attention more than anything else. Might she have a kindred spirit here, or was it just some rocker fashion statement? The thought warmed her to him a bit, and she returned his smile.
“A pint of your cheapest stout and another of your most expensive pale ale,” she said. “Put it on Ben’s tab.”
He nodded. “Saw you come in with the old man.”
“You’re the owner?”
He laughed softly, and she found herself enjoying the velvety sound. A subtle invitation lurked in there. “Sadly, no. Just a new hire. Why would you think I own this crumb-hole?” He had an odd accent, as if he’d just come from an acting class where they practiced Shakespearian theatre.
“You know Ben,” she said.
“Everybody knows Ben. At least, everybody who knows him does.”
He went to pour her drink, and she waited until he returned and slid two overflowing pint glasses her way. After cleaning off her glass with a wet wipe, she took a sip of the brew. A tingle of discomfort ran down her back as his eyes remained on her, not wavering as she set the drink down.
“What? Did I grow a third boob?”