by Gary Jonas
“See?” Esther said. “Quiff.”
Miranda saw me approaching and smiled. “You won’t believe what happened here when you left.”
“Try me.”
“I went to sleep on the couch. Didn’t bother to get dressed. And next thing I know, these guys broke in and scared the hell out of me. Kent here was kind enough to get me a robe so I could cover up.”
“But you’re OK?”
“Just a little embarrassed.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, ma’am,” Kent said. “We’re just glad it was a false alarm.”
“She was dead,” Esther said. “Kaput. A futzing corpse. I’m not making this up.”
“How’s your heart?”
“Still thundering.”
“Her pulse is fine,” Kent said. “You folks have a nice day.” He followed the other paramedics back to their truck.
“How did you hear about this?” Miranda asked. “I thought you were going to the dojo.”
“I...uh...just had a bad feeling,” I said and tossed a quick glare at Esther.
Miranda followed my gaze for a moment then shrugged. “You get feelings about things sometimes? I guess that’s not much of a stretch to ask me to believe after what I’ve seen the last several days.”
“Yeah, a premonition,” I said, rolling with it.
“It was wrong.”
“So it would seem.”
“You didn’t call the paramedics, did you?”
“Wasn’t me.”
She nodded. “If you throw on some real clothes, I’ll do the same and we can grab lunch. We might want to make sure we’re on the same page about things.”
“Same page. Right.”
“So. Lunch?”
“Yeah, OK.”
“Can I grab a shower first? I smell like sex.”
“Go for it.”
She kissed me then turned and headed for the bathroom. I closed the door, and when I heard the shower start, I turned to Esther.
“Are you playing with me?”
“She was dead. I swear!”
“You were mistaken. She seems fine.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I believe you believe it.”
Esther made a face at me and popped out of sight. I went into the bedroom and changed clothes. A few minutes later, Miranda left the bathroom in a cloud of steam with a towel wrapped around her. She approached me and gave me a quick kiss then grabbed her clothes and went back into the bathroom, where the mirror remained fogged over.
I pulled out my phone and called DGI. It was time to start making preparations for Wednesday. Phil answered.
“Jonathan Shade here. I didn’t know you worked Sundays.”
“Bills to pay. What do you want, Shade?”
“Got any summoners on staff, Phil?”
“Summoners?”
“Wizards who summon people, beasties, demi-gods, what have you?”
“You can’t afford them.”
“I suspect we can work something out.”
“Then call Mike and leave me out of it.”
“But I like you, Phil. You’re fun.”
He told me to do something that was physically impossible and hung up on me. I scrolled through the contacts on my phone and called Mike Ender.
He didn’t answer, of course, which is why I hadn’t called him first. I waited for the beep then said, “Mike, it’s Jonathan Shade. I understand you have a few wizards who are trying to become summoners and will work for free if the summoning sounds cool. I have someone very cool for them to summon, so give me a holler.”
I hung up and glanced toward the restroom. The door was closed, and I heard the hair dryer blasting away. I knew Miranda would be a while. I stepped outside and leaned against the wall. The phone rang and I checked: Mike.
“Long time, no chat, Mike.”
“What are you up to?”
“Six feet.”
“Seriously, Shade. I thought we were finished with Miranda’s business.”
“Oh, we are. This is something else I’m working on. It has nothing to do with Miranda, though she did get mixed up in part of it through no fault of her own.”
“Is this about the dead people rising?”
“In a way.”
“There are no dead people rising at the moment.”
“Not at the moment, but I know who started it, and I want to summon someone so we can have a little chat about that.”
“I’m guessing this is dangerous.”
“Crossing the street is dangerous, Mike.”
“Why should I help you?”
“For bragging rights, of course. If people know you and your team summoned this individual, the entire wizarding world would be monumentally impressed.”
“We prefer to keep a low profile.”
“It could be fun.”
“Racquetball is fun and less likely to get you killed.”
“Answer me this: Can you or anyone at DGI manage a summoning of a powerful, possibly immortal being?”
“I don’t have that sort of power, but we do have a few people who could probably manage it.”
“Can I at least run it by them? They might like the challenge.”
“You’re a real pain in the ass, Shade.”
“I keep things interesting, though.”
“In the old Chinese curse way. Fine. Stop by my office tomorrow morning, and I’ll let you talk to someone.”
“Thanks, Mike.”
“I have a condition.”
“I suspected as much.”
“If I let you talk to someone, whether or not they agree, you will owe me a favor of your own.”
“What’s going on, Mike?”
“At the moment, nothing. But if a job does come up where I can use someone as resourceful and annoying as yourself, you have to say yes.”
“I don’t sign on for suicide runs.”
“The job might be dangerous, but it won’t be suicide. And we’ll pay your normal rates too.”
“I feel like I’m being set up.”
“You’re setting up my people right now, Jonathan. Your schemes are always dangerous at best.”
“Tell you what. You set a meeting, and I promise to listen to any job offer you might have for me.”
“You’d listen anyway.”
“I’m not done. And if one of your people helps me with this summoning, I’ll do a job for you provided it’s not out-and-out suicide. Fair enough?”
“Let me think about it.”
“You don’t need to think about it, Mike. You already know you’re going to say yes.”
“Be here at nine a.m.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“I survived,” Mike said and hung up.
A feeling nibbled at the back of my brain that Mike was definitely setting me up. Something was probably already in motion that he suspected he’d need help with, and I’d just walked right into it. Then again, Wednesday’s meetings could get me killed. So if Mike was trying to set me up, I’d have to survive to pay up anyway.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Miranda and I had lunch at Olive Garden. The salad and breadsticks were terrific, and while I enjoyed my spaghetti, Miranda was not impressed with her meal. I’ve been told by many people that I am not a connoisseur of restaurants. Hell, I can’t even spell connoisseur without looking it up. That said, I am a man of simple tastes. If it tastes good, I eat it. If it tastes bad, I spit it out and make faces and slam a beer to get the awful taste out of my mouth. Well, unless I’m company, in which case I choke it down and hope to win an Oscar. But hey, I like Olive Garden, so Miranda’s not liking it was her problem.
After the meal, of which she barely partook, I sipped my wine and leaned back in my chair. “So you said we had to be on the same page about something.”
“I want to talk about us.”
“Here we go.”
“You don’t need to go on the defensive, Jonathan. I’m not t
rying to trap you into marriage or anything.”
“Upon closer reflection, you’ve decided I’m not your type, but you wanted a free meal so you put up with my company for another hour?”
She laughed. “We can go dutch.”
“Mighty kind of you.”
“What I really want to say is this: I want to see you again.”
“So now you want me to pay?”
“Stop joking around.”
I held up my hands in a show of surrender. “The floor is yours.”
“I like you. I’m hopeful that we could build some sort of relationship. I don’t want to go through life alone, and while you need a lot of refinement, you are a good man. I know commitment scares you, especially when we really don’t know each other very well yet. I want to get to know you. I want to take the time to understand you, and I think we have a future.”
She took a sip of wine.
Then she stared at me. “You can speak now,” she said.
I nodded. “What does refinement mean? I’m kidding. I don’t know that I’m afraid of commitment per se. I think you just caught me off guard by moving so fast.”
“We can slow down.”
“In that case, I’d like to see you again too.”
She smiled. “Let me choose the restaurant next time.”
“That depends. If you say Shanahan’s, I can’t afford that.”
“I’ll choose someplace good but not overly expensive, then.”
“I’d like that.”
“Would Friday be too soon?”
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
While she wasn’t quite up to official girlfriend status, I found myself hoping she’d be there soon. I just felt it would be best to be cautious. Part of that was just my nature, and part of it was that I wanted to make sure she’d still be alive come Friday. If Esther was right and Miranda’s heart had stopped while she was asleep, the magic might not have taken. If it happened again, her heart might not start again. The magic could sputter out and die, and I didn’t want to get emotionally attached to someone who might not make it to the weekend. Of course, that was a two-way street.
Time would tell.
It always does.
#
Persephone showed up on my doorstep at six o’clock that evening. I answered the door and gave her my best winning smile. “I found Charon,” I said.
“Where is he?” She entered my apartment, looking around.
I closed the door. “On his way. Problem is that where he is, time moves faster, so it will be Wednesday before he can get here.”
“Do you really expect that to save your friends?” She sat down on the sofa, her right arm draped along the back.
“I’m trusting that you’re an honorable goddess and, since you’ll be getting what you want in a few days, that you’ll be willing to hold off on killing anyone. After all, I have it all lined up for you.”
“Is Charon coming here?”
“No. We’ll need to meet him down at the Royal Gorge.” I explained to her what and where it was.
She nodded. “Don’t even think about trying to pull a fast one on me, Mr. Shade.”
“Look, I don’t want any part of this. You be cool and don’t kill anyone, and I’ll be cool and deliver Charon to you. You’ll need to meet us there at three-thirty local time.”
She rose and approached me. She stared into my eyes, and it felt as if she were staring into my soul and finding the view distasteful. “If this is a ploy to buy time…”
“Charon. Wednesday. Three-thirty. No ploy. No tricks. Just a simple delivery.” Of course, I was hoping to devise a trick, something I could accomplish in the thirty-minute window before Sharon arrived at four. While my plans rarely work the way I hope, at least I had plans...or in this case, a plan to come up with a plan.
She hesitated. “Very well. You do understand that I don’t take kindly to anyone who dares to cross me?”
“I would never do that.”
She smiled. “Yes, you would. I’m saying don’t.”
#
Sitting in the meeting room at DGI on Monday morning, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Everything was simple. I arrived on time, and they were expecting me, so they led me directly to the meeting room and offered coffee and bagels. I accepted the coffee, but I’d already had breakfast, so I passed on the bagels.
Five minutes later, Mike entered the room with a young woman behind him. She stood five feet tall on tiptoes and if she turned sideways, she’d likely disappear. She looked like a skeleton wearing a skin costume, and I wanted to force-feed her a truckload of pizzas.
“Jonathan Shade, I’d like you to meet Darla Stevenson.”
She extended a delicate hand, and I took the tips of her fingers in my hand the way protectors teach politicians and movie stars. I wasn’t looking to protect myself from having her pull me off balance or anything. I was worried that a normal handshake would crush her bones.
“A pleasure,” she said, and her voice came out no louder than a whisper.
“Darla is our very best summoner.” Mike must have noticed my look because he added, “She’s much stronger than she appears.”
I hoped so but I didn’t speak the words. I simply nodded.
She took a seat across the table from me, and Mike sat beside her. She met my gaze with vacant blue eyes. Even when she looked right at me, I wondered if she were blind or staring through me.
“I understand you need my services.”
“Yes, we do. I have a few questions.”
“As do I. You may ask first, Mr. Shade.”
“When you summon someone, how long does it take and how does it work? Do they appear instantly or what? And how close are you to the person or item when he, she, or it arrives? In addition, are you able to send them away?”
“Lots of questions. I’ll try to answer in order. How long it takes depends on many factors. As Mike explained it to me, you’re looking to summon a person, so some of the factors include where that person is at the time, how powerful they are, things of that nature. How it works is fairly simple: I can compel people to drop what they’re doing and come to us. It’s a matter of manipulating their will and getting them to agree to come to me. If the person is in the city and they have a car, they will drive over. If they are outside the city, it gets dicier, so we’ll want proximity if possible. So they don’t appear instantly, provided they’re alive. I have summoned ghosts before, and a ghost will usually arrive quickly if they arrive at all. As for how close they are when they arrive, if they come to me, they will generally end up in the same room, say ten to fifteen feet give or take. And yes, I can send them away afterward.”
“What if the person is in another dimension?”
Mike raised an eyebrow.
Darla didn’t show much reaction. “Give me the particulars.”
“Say, the Underworld.”
“You aren’t trying to summon Kate Beckinsale, are you? I had three men offer to pay me to bring her to them, insisting she wear tight leather.”
“While that would be nice, especially with the tight leather, I try not to date actresses. Besides, I’m not a big fan of vampires-versus-werewolf movies. If the werewolves can’t figure out that they can go kill the vamps in the daytime, they deserve to be enslaved.”
Darla glanced at Mike. “You were right; he does seem to think he’s funny.”
“Sometimes,” I said.
“You’re not.”
“You started it with that whole Kate Beckinsale thing.”
“At least she exists. So when you say ‘Underworld,’ are you referring to Hades?”
“It’s been called that.”
“So you’re trying to summon a spirit. Naomi Miller?”
“You read a file on me. How sweet.”
“Your file is required reading these days, Mr. Shade. So you’d like me to call Naomi for you. I can do that.”
I shook my head. “For now, let’s just say there’s someone there I
want you to summon.”
“If not Naomi, then who?”
“I’d rather not say yet.”
“And if this individual is beyond my reach or abilities?”
“I think if you ask nicely, this individual will pop up for a visit.”
“You think Hades is below us?”
“Figure of speech, though it is called the Underworld, so it works for me.”
She pursed her lips and drummed her fingernails on the table. Finally she nodded. “I can make an attempt, but as you’re not being forthcoming, I will not guarantee results.”
“Coming from the Underworld, how long would it take for someone to arrive?”
“I have no idea. Time operates differently in other dimensions.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“When and where shall we make the attempt?”
“Wednesday afternoon at the Royal Gorge.”
“That’s down past the Springs.”
“Yes, it is. Have you ever been?”
“No.”
“Then you’ll have a wonderful time checking out the nation’s highest suspension bridge.”
“I’m not much for sightseeing, Mr. Shade. And the forecast is calling for snow for the next few days.”
“Layer up,” I said.
She glared at Mike.
He raised his hands. “Don’t look at me.”
“Can you have Vanessa hold the snow back until Thursday?”
“Shade is right. Just dress in layers.”
“Fine.”
“We’ll pick you up at ten in the morning.”
“I’ll try to contain my excitement.”
Try eating a cheeseburger, I thought.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The eleven o’clock class was in session at the dojo, so there weren’t any parking spots in the lot, and I had to park on a side street. I sat in the car for a few minutes to make a few phone calls. My insurance company told me my car was indeed totaled, which sucked. I didn’t want to buy a new car. They also told me my rates were going up. Oh, the many joys of living life on the edge.
When I stepped out of the car, the wind cut into me like a thousand swords, and I considered getting back into the nice, warm rental. Instead, I put on my tough-guy face and shouldered my way through the cold air to the 7-Eleven on the corner. I bought a cup of coffee that tasted old and nasty but at least warmed me up a touch; then I stepped outside and walked the rest of the way to the dojo since I was meeting Kelly for lunch.