by Jenn Stark
“Great, we’re heading your way.” I glanced up and then I saw it. “Honky Tonk Central,” I said, swinging my gaze to the left to take in the enormous AT&T building that stood barely a block over from it. Tallest bar, tallest building in town. One way or another, this was where we needed to be.
I looked at Armaeus. “Now?”
He also gazed up at the skyscraper, then back to the line of traffic. A second later, his face cleared, and I glanced to see what he’d seen. A man was running toward us, slim, athletic, his face split with a wide grin. I recognized him immediately. “Max?”
Armaeus nodded, clearly happy as his nephew several generations removed pounded up to him.
“Flights were terrible,” Max Bertrand gasped in his rich French accent. “I lost the two officers on the drive in, but they were definitely headed for downtown.”
“They’ve already arrived,” Armaeus said. He pulled a thick packet from inside his jacket, wrapped in velvet. He handed it to Max. “One for you, one for Miss Wilde. And one for Nikki Dawes, when she arrives.”
“Nikki?” Max frowned. With a blink, I realized the two of them had never met.
“Max is the third Connected?” I demanded. “You couldn’t get someone lower profile?”
“Arrogance, Miss Wilde,” Armaeus said. He handed the second seal to me. It shone in the neon lights, glittering with a design of dozens of overlapping circles. The Flower of Life. “It’s Tesla’s greatest weakness. You, he wishes to beat because he feels you have betrayed your people. Max, he will instantly mark as my blood, which will intrigue him as well. Nikki…” He smiled thinly. “Nikki runs counter to all his perceptions and biases of what a woman should be. To have her allied against him will be a personal affront.”
“And we…what?” Max said, holding up his seal. “Aim these at Monsieur Tesla?”
At that moment, Nikki’s voice cut across the phone. “Dollface! I see you. Who’s the scrumptious boy bander?”
I winced, but her voice was loud enough to carry to Max. He looked up with startled eyes as I clicked off the phone. Nikki strode up a moment later, now in full Emma Peel mode. Black skinsuit open at the collar to show a swath of skin, chain belt slung low on her hips, knee-high black boots. Her auburn hair was styled into a perfect shoulder-length coif, and she grinned at Max as she stepped between him and Armaeus.
“As I live and breathe, it’s a Bertrand sandwich. I may have died and gone to heaven.”
“Nikki Dawes,” Armaeus said, but he flashed a quick grin I was nearly certain he didn’t intend to make. He gestured to Max, and the man mutely handed over a second seal, this one etched with a pentagram made up of dozens of triangles. She took it, hefting its weight in her large palm before eyeing Armaeus again. “And I do what with this?” she asked.
“Ensure it touches your skin—holding it is best.”
“Got it.” Nikki tucked the seal into the deeply veed neckline of her suit, then held up her hands. “Perfect hands-free device.” She winked at me. “Sorry, doll, this approach will not be working for you, I’m thinking.”
Max turned his seal over in his hands. “Metatron’s cube. These are prisms.”
“Make sure they’re against your skin,” Armaeus said again. He looked up at the sky. All of Nashville appeared to be swinging now, the sound of country music blasting out of honky-tonk bars up and down Broadway. Far above us, what looked like a lightning storm was building in the heavens, high above the clouds. “It will be soon now. Are the guards in place?”
“Ready to trip the light fantastic.” Nikki’s face sobered. “Speaking of, the agents I was telling you about. They’re not doing so good.”
I frowned. “What happened to them?”
“That’s the thing. Nigel spotted them down near the river. They piled out of a cab, running fast, talking to someone on the phone. Nigel said we’d need to take them out, which was fine by me, but we didn’t get the chance. They walked under a street lamp, and right in front of us, big as life, the thing exploded. Electricity jumped straight from the lamppost to their phones, and the two lit up like sparklers, then collapsed. Half the street saw it, and a dozen people rushed forward, while three or four others called nine-one-one. It was insanity.”
“Tesla?” I turned on Armaeus. “Why?”
“Taking out distractions,” he said. “I think we can safely rule out a connection between him and Interpol. That will be useful, eventually. Not tonight.”
Far up Broadway, a spray of sparks flew, a neon sign shorting out above a crowd of shouting startled partiers. The sparks were harmless, barely discernible over the swell of music, but the sign winked off and on ominously before finally going dark.
Max transferred his seal to his left hand and pulled out his cell with his right. “Ghosted their devices in New York,” he said as he held it toward Armaeus. “They were checking in with—someone, but it wasn’t Interpol. Signal bounced all over the place, impossible to trace. If Tesla took them out, he was probably doing us a favor. Especially if they were calling in reinforcements.”
“Is that likely?” I asked, not sure if I should be posing the question to Max or Armaeus.
Max answered. “Honestly, they’ve been flying under the radar since they got to the US. I’ve been following them since New York, and they’ve taken puddle jumpers to DC, Charlotte, Cincinnati, then here. Very roundabout, very tech free. This hit on their phone was the first time I’d seen them access a laptop, tablet, or anything digital in two days.”
“They saw something,” I said. “Maybe recognized Ma-Singh? Or Nigel.”
Nikki shrugged. “We weren’t trying to hide, that’s for sure, but they’re definitely down for the count now. They weren’t moving, but I don’t think they’re dead, for what it’s worth.”
“They’ll probably wish they were when they wake up.”
Sirens sounded from the riverfront.
“We’ve got quite a crowd here,” I said. “How does it make sense that Tesla will strike in front of all these people?”
“Because one of his many charms is that the man cannot resist an audience,” Armaeus said. Another light flickered and spit sparks, several blocks up Broadway. As we watched, a technicolor streak of electricity sputtered into the night sky.
“Tell everyone to begin,” Armaeus said, nodding to Nikki. “He’s in the net.”
Nikki put the phone to her ear and bit out quick instructions. As she did, I turned to the wall of people surrounding us. There were too many of them—far too many, despite Armaeus’s apparent unconcern.
“Nikki, position yourself in that square.” He pointed. Her gaze swiveled in that direction.
“Bat tower, gotcha,” she said.
“Max, I want you on the other side of this bar, preparing to close. We’ll be coming your way.”
Nikki frowned. “Where from?”
Armaeus didn’t answer. Instead, he closed his hand around my arm, and then we were on the move. Running, actually—so fast I made no attempt to keep up, the Magician easily lifting me off my feet as he raced down the center of the street, passing streetlights, people, cars, lights so quickly, they were all a blur. He’d done this once before with me, but this time it was faster, stronger—
Bang!
Armaeus bounced back as effectively as if he’d hit a wall, and as we smacked to the ground, an entire plane of electricity crackled in front of us. Too late I realized where we were.
“You tested the perimeter you set up with our bodies?” I gasped and struggled to my feet. Armaeus was already standing.
“We’re trapped too,” he said. “So Tesla has only two options. Confront us or take out Nikki and Max first. He won’t consider them strong enough to matter. You’re the prize.”
“That’s why you brought us all the way up here?” I said, pivoting to stare back down Broadway. With my vision now trained on energy fields, not people, I could almost imagine there would be no collateral damage if Tesla started to throw around fire bolts.
>
With another blink, the crowd of partiers came back into view. There were hundreds of people out on the warm night, drinking, laughing, singing. Boots tapped and cowboy-hatted heads bobbed in time with songs that seemed to carry much the same rhythm, no matter which bar featured the singer.
Would Tesla do anything to kill these innocent mortals? As soon as I thought the question, I knew the answer was yes. He’d urged along technoceutical development no matter the cost to Connected children—even to the point of changing their DNA, sacrifices to achieve his perceived mortal ideal. To get what he wanted, there didn’t seem to be any cost too high. And judging from the shuddering, stuttering electrical signs winking in and out on Broadway, he definitely was interested in putting on a show.
We started moving down the street again by unspoken consent. I allowed my gaze to flip to energy fields, and eventually I could pick up the perimeter Armaeus had designed. Bursts of electricity sparked and shuddered, crackling out like miniature electrical storms. Within that perimeter, though, I couldn’t detect any single being that was Tesla. He was spread out over the downtown streets, hiding in neon signs and video screens, electric guitar amps and cell phones, all of which seemed to be operating at far too high a level. In short, he was everywhere and nowhere at once, and he was burning hot.
“Start talking, Miss Wilde,” Armaeus said quietly.
I blinked at him. “What?”
“You are Soo’s successor, Head of the House of Swords. Your lab has just performed an extraordinary test today. What was that test? What did it show?”
I stared at the Magician, totally confused. “What are you talking about?” I hissed.
His smile was still fixed on the bat tower down near the base of Broadway, the heat lightning behind it skittering through the clouds. “The Devil may not be a dumb spirit,” he murmured, “but Tesla surely is.” He lifted his voice slightly so it carried on the breeze. “Tell him what you’ve discovered.”
“I—” For a second more, I gaped at Armaeus, an impossible urge to scream welling up inside me. What was he thinking—how could I…
And then it hit me. The dreams.
I racked my mind for the dreams that had assaulted me over the past several days, dreams Tesla had fed into my subconscious, somehow, the way he no doubt pulsed the minds of some of the greatest constructors of technoceuticals today. He’d done that for a reason, I realized. Not merely to provoke me, but to make me think, to generate a solution. What had those dreams shown?
I lifted my chin, my eyes on the energy waves that shuddered and twisted frenetically along the street.
“Magic for all,” I said, and Ma-Singh’s own words came to mind as well, adding strength to my conviction. This was, after all, what Soo had been hunting for. Had Tesla known that? Had that also drawn his curiosity about me? “Magic for all is the goal. Augmenting the Connected abilities that are present, drawing out those that might not be strong enough to shine without amplification. But the problem always was a basic one: how do you create and then transfer the DNA encoding necessary to a new host body? We were struggling so much with separating the DNA strands to expose their bases, to harvest the necessary material, but we were going about it all wrong—until now. And the answer is so easy, so elegant. We’ve begun the test protocols and it’s working. All this time we’d thought we had to physically break the helixes apart but no…no.” I shook my head. “So much simpler. With the right combination of donor samples and nanite delivery methods, we can start tests within the week.”
“Good,” Armaeus said. “I’ll want all that research delivered to me. No further production, agreed?”
I swung my gaze at him. Surely he didn’t think that was going to work. Then again, Tesla had been betrayed so many times over the years, had dealt with the weakness of so many men of science and business. He’d almost feel vindicated at this new treachery, especially since he’d been so close…
“Agreed,” I said, nodding. “With the amount you’ve paid me, I’ve got no problem keeping this discovery secret from the world. It’s too big, too dangerous.” I stared at Armaeus with the bright, flashing lights in my eyes, did my best to look as moony as possible. “I’m so grateful you can protect humanity.”
To his credit, Armaeus’s expression didn’t waver, but a neon light sizzled and died above me, shooting out a complaining stream of sparks. A series of pops sounded behind me, and I resisted the urge to jump, to turn around. Around us, the electrical stream was shifting as well. Everything dimmed momentarily, drawing away from the lights of Broadway to a presence that was building.
Then the lights seemed to flare even more brightly than before, the heat on Broadway suddenly spiking. I braced myself for someone to notice, but to my surprise, the first thing I heard was whooping laughter. Guitarists and bar hoppers poured out of the storefronts and into the street, beers held high as music roared and thundered behind them.
“Let’s hear it for the power company!” someone shouted, and a cheer of delight surged up, everyone far too drunk or relaxed to think too much about anything.
The next two blocks lit up like Christmas, and a second cheer went up.
“More lively now, Miss Wilde,” Armaeus murmured. He’d picked up the pace, and I could feel the presence of Tesla behind me, stealing up close. The Magician continued in a loud conversational voice, “Tell me, how does it work?”
“I can’t say it out loud,” I retorted, with a sudden urgency that neatly camouflaged the fact that I had no idea how one could actually split apart a DNA strand to effectively harvest the Connected genetic sequence, then transfer it to a new host. But I bristled with indignation at Armaeus all the same. “We’ve got to bury this information. Now that it’s clear that all you have to do is apply this simple, elegant fusion process…” I swallowed, finding the gibberish that came to mind difficult to say despite the fact it was pure lies.
Even lies had the power to change the future, I realized. Even lies could imprint on matter and change it at its most basic level.
And then, I suddenly realized…what I was saying wasn’t a lie.
Suddenly, so clearly in my mind as if it was laid out perfectly, beautifully, with exact precision…suddenly I could see exactly how to create the transcription of DNA required to lift the code from a Connected’s DNA and synthesize it. The magnification of intense heat required to melt the DNA strand, expose the bases, harvest the genetic information, transcribe it onto new, pure, nanite-enhanced DNA that would then merge perfectly with receptor strands in the recipient, seamlessly and flawlessly. The distillation of that process into a serum-delivered system that would flow through newly perfected cells and make them something incredibly, shockingly beautiful. As if touched by the hand of God itself.
How is this possible? And yet I knew—knew I was right. Knew I was seeing what truly had happened to those children in France, perhaps others as well.
I scrambled to keep my monologue going.
“Now that you know it can be done, we must make sure no one ever uses this information wholesale,” I said, thinking about the hallowed land Tesla had shown me in my dream. “The light is meant only for those truly gifted with magic, not for mere mortals, especially the Unconnected ones. Never for them.”
The entire length of Broadway blazed with light.
“That,” came Nikola Tesla’s aristocratic voice, “is where you are wrong.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I turned, bracing for impact, but there was no one there, of course. Simply a whirling dervish of an electrical fireball, too bright to see directly. It pulsed outward, and the energy level jolted even higher up and down Broadway, the amps hitting decibel levels more suited to amphitheaters than honky-tonk bars, guitars wailing, voices howling. Everything was bright—so bright and pounding against my ears, my bones.
Tesla said something that sounded like a thunderclap, then the force of his electrical storm struck home. Instantly, waves of pure energy flowed toward and around me,
shooting to all corners of the makeshift holding pen we’d built. The reflectors held, surprisingly, but did little more than increase the level of electricity and send it whirling ever faster, an electrical conductor and centrifuge all in one.
No, no, no! I scarcely had time to whirl back toward Max and Nikki, my hands reaching out in mute panic, before that supercharged energy hit them full in their bodies, silver seals and all.
They tumbled backward, and the entire world around them burst into flame.
I blinked and saw time and space before me once more as furiously intertwined streaks of energy, except now there was no longer any rhyme or reason to it. I could hear the music escalating on Broadway, the wailing cries of voices, so many voices, and beneath it the building roar of the electricity that seemed to surge up from the very core of the planet.
I turned toward Tesla, but could see only a maelstrom of electricity, a storm in an upturned bowl that soon would have no choice but to explode outward. All the remaining energy seemed fixated on the last remaining seal, my seal, and I hefted it, drawing that energy toward me. The Hanged Man was too strong—so much stronger than I’d ever believed he could be, so much more powerful than three minor Connecteds and our pitiful shields, our miserable—
“Stop!” As the first bolts of electricity reached me, I slung my hand out, whipping my silver seal with its engraved Flower of Life toward the heart of the storm. With the benefit of my enhanced vision, I saw it disappear into the crackling web, saw it hit—something—then bloom out with an explosion that seemed to drop the earth away from my feet. Sound crashed all around me and then…
There was nothing.
As in absolutely nothing.
I blinked my vision back to the present moment and spun around, first locating Nikki and Max. Both of them were frozen in place, their hands reaching out as they appeared to have been caught in the act of running forward. Running toward me, I realized. At the last minute, they must have realized what I was going to do, and—what? Sought to stop me? To help me?