Modern Magic
Page 78
“Why didn’t you just go home?” he said.
“I dropped Zola off at Sam’s. She was going to request a conference with Vasili to discuss our little zombie issues, so I figured I’d see if there was anything written about vampire zombies. Doesn’t seem to be anything useful in the books I have.” I rubbed at my face and took a deep breath.
“Good luck with that,” Frank said.
“What do you mean?”
“Sam said Vasili never talks to outsiders.”
I smiled. “Zola has a way with people.” I yawned and scratched my eyelid. “What time is it?”
“About quarter to ten.”
I groaned. “So … early …”
Frank laughed outright. “Ashley’s coming by around ten, so I wanted to be sure the place was open.”
“Ah, now I see. You just want to hit on the priestess. I get it.”
He shook his head. “Nah, I just have eyes for Sam.”
“That is so not funny,” I said as I pointed my finger at him.
He grinned, rubbed his sparse gray hair, and headed back to the stairs. On his way down he yelled, “Nice tux, by the way.”
I glanced down at the torn-out knee in my tuxedo pants and smiled.
* * *
I headed to the bathroom and blinked a few times at my reflection. I had an impressive knot welling up above my left eye, and a bruise to add some color. My chest was sore, but thanks to Colin healing me at the Pit the night before, I was pretty sure my ribs were fine. That’s twice he’d patched me up. I’d never be able to thank him enough for saving my life, and now he’d fixed some cracked ribs too. I wondered if Colin liked cheese as much as Foster.
I focused on the reflection in the mirror again. My face was framed by short clumps of muddy hair, which seemed to be confused as to whether it wanted to be its natural black or a healthy dirt brown. My nose was still a little crooked from all of its previous experiences being broken. I looked at the remnants of the tux I had on and sighed. One sleeve was almost completely torn off the jacket and four neat slashes cut through one lapel and the vest. I frowned and pulled at the slashes. “Don’t remember them getting that close,” I muttered as I rubbed the sore spot over my ribs. There were a few bloodstains and a plethora of dirt and grass stains to finish the ensemble. At least my cufflinks were still in.
My eyes moved back up to their own pale gray reflection. “Now, aren’t you glad you bought the tux insurance?” I nodded solemnly in reply.
I rinsed my face off, winced as I touched the knot on my head, and changed into a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, stashed in the back room for just such an occasion. After hanging the tux up and tucking it neatly back into its protective bag, I walked to the front of the store.
The door opened with a jingle as Ashley walked in ten minutes after ten. Her wedding attire was replaced by her traditional black cloak, which swirled as she moved around the door. She had knee-high boots on over deep blue pants, and polished her look with a healthy dose of eye shadow. She saw me and rubbed the index finger of her right hand across the top of her left in a traditional ‘shame on you’ gesture. I smiled and gave a halfhearted shrug.
“You’re a bad man, Damian Vesik.”
Frank burst into laughter. “Morning, Ashley.”
“Hi, Frank!” Her scornful yet amused glare perked up into a sincere smile as she reached the counter.
Frank pulled out a brown paper bag and set it on the glass.
“Thanks for opening early,” Ashley said as she unrolled the top and pulled out a clear bag of beef jerky. “I couldn’t make it by yesterday with the wedding.” She tore the corner off the bag and took a sniff.
“Wow!” She blinked rapidly and rubbed her eyes. “That smells strong.”
“I told you,” Frank said.
She rolled the bag up and stuck it in her suitcase, I mean large gray purse. I went about straightening a low shelf with several mortar and pestles.
“Thanks, Frank,” Ashley said as one of the squeaky drawers below the gemstone display case slid open. I glanced up to find her face about an inch from the drawer, as she ran her finger through a stockpile of “junk” amber. Sam had called it junk because there wasn’t anything in the drawer priced higher than fifteen bucks. The name stuck.
Ashley gathered a few pieces up and pushed the drawer closed. “Hey, Damian?” I cocked an eyebrow as she fiddled with the pentagram on her necklace. “Do I get a discount if I buy six? I need them for a spell tonight.”
“That’s up to Frank.”
She turned the puppy dog eyes on full blast for Frank. “I know you opened early for me. And, you see, we need them to help our sister. She lost a dear friend and is terribly distraught.”
Frank glanced at the pieces, his mouth twitching as he thought. “Fifty for all of them.” His eyes trailed over to me and I nodded.
Ashley grinned and handed over some bills. The register chimed and Frank gave her some change.
“Was it her dog?” I said.
Ashley fought back a smile as Frank’s eyes widened. “Thanks again for the jerky Frank. Oh, and Damian?” She didn’t say anything else until I met her eyes. “Try not to blow up any pigeons today, hmm?”
I heard an eruption of fairy laughter from the back room. I guess Foster and Aideen had been listening. I waved at Ashley as she left, her own laughter trailing behind her.
“She didn’t even ask why you look like crap,” Frank said.
“She’s seen worse,” I said. “She is quite the devious negotiator.”
“You don’t think her friend is really distraught?” Frank said.
I laughed and shook my head a little. I got a whiff of spices and my nose began burning. “Is the death toll piling up from your jerky yet?”
“It can’t be all bad if Zola likes it.” Frank paused and then smiled.
* * *
The next few hours vanished in a cloud of dust, cursing, and snoring cu siths as book after book turned up nothing of use. What little I did find addressed run-of-the-mill zombies. Passages were filled with genius advice like ‘avoid the hordes’ and ‘sever the spinal column.’ “Hordes,” I muttered. “Zola doesn’t even remember the last horde.” I could have learned more watching movies.
“You mind watching the front for a bit, Damian?” Frank’s voice was faint from the bottom of the stairs. “I’m going out for a soda. You want anything?”
“I’m good, thanks.” I pried Peanut’s snoring head off Zola’s diary and stuffed the essay I was reading into it. She’d just lent me the old book and it was going to come back with cu sith slobber. Nice. I heard the bell jingle on the front door as Frank left. I scratched Bubbles between the ears before I pried my feet out from under her and headed toward the stairs.
“They’re good dogs.” My eyes followed the voice up to Aideen, perched on the highest bookshelf. She smiled and nibbled on something in her hand I couldn’t quite make out.
I looked back at to the dogs as Peanut rolled to the side and fell off the chair, crashing into Bubbles like a sack of potatoes. Neither cu sith woke up. Peanut continued snoring, splayed upside down over Bubbles. “Guard dogs, my ass.”
“You like them.”
I raised my eyebrows as I walked past Aideen and started down the stairs, grabbing a bag of Cheetos off the shelf and a Mountain Dew from the mini fridge before crossing into the front of the shop.
Frank’s insidious stack of brown paper bags filled with death jerky tempted me as I sat down behind the counter. Jerky sounded good, but I stopped my hand and shook my head as I remembered its tongue-blistering, sinus-disintegrating side effects. I don’t know how people eat the stuff.
The bell tinkled on the shop’s front door again and I barely had time to look up before Sam blurred into motion from the entryway and crushed me in a bone-pulverizing hug.
“Ribs!” I squeaked.
She laughed into my shoulder. “You’re the best brother ever.”
I narrowed my eyes as at
her grinning face as she let me go. “What do you want?”
“Nada.” She unrolled the newspaper in her hand and slammed it down on the glass display case, sending a spider-web of cracks across it. “Whoops, I’ll get that replaced.” Her grin never faltered.
I sighed and looked at the cracks, then down at the paper. I made the front page. That is, my ne’er do well pigeon prank did. I laughed at the picture of Beth’s screaming mom, covered in pigeon gore, with her hands reaching for the sky.
Sam picked the paper up and read it aloud in the deepest baritone she could manage, “Terror at the Wagner Wedding. Though no injuries were reported yesterday morning, a terrifying series of explosions assaulted the attendees at the wedding of Michael William Wagner and Elizabeth Berry. Many of the onlookers are calling the event a terrible portent of doom.”
“Doom!” I growled as I slapped the display case between laughs, sending cracks racing to the edge of the glass.
Sam snorted in laughter as Foster careened in over the saloon doors, chasing a very awake and low to the ground Bubbles as the cu sith skidded beneath the door. “What’s the racket?” he said as he landed on the newspaper.
“You’re standing on it,” I said.
He glanced down at the paper, then looked at Sam. His jaw opened slowly and he turned back to the picture of Elizabeth’s mom. “Fuck me, is that a pigeon head in her hair? Please tell me you did that.”
“Yes, he did,” Sam said. She reached down and picked up the yapping green ball of chaos.
“I hate pigeons,” Foster said.
We all laughed.
“Where’s Frank?” Sam said.
I wiped my eyes and slumped back onto the stool. “I think he ran out for soda.”
“Gotcha.” She glanced at me, then turned immediately to the gemstone display case against the wall. “He’s taking me to dinner.”
“You sound happy about that. And yet you can’t look me in the eye when you say it?”
Sam glanced at me over her shoulder and smiled. Foster burst into laughter as I shrugged and lodged my feet on the little shelf behind the register.
* * *
Sam and Frank returned from dinner at the Trailhead Brewery a few hours later. Frank came by to drop his soda off in the fridge before disappearing with Sam for a few more minutes. I’m a lenient boss. The fact Frank showed up with a fresh cheeseburger when he got back had nothing to do with it. I ate the burger and was beginning to consider how boring research could be when I saw a flash of green fur out of the corner of my eye. Foster and the cu siths disappeared into the back. The sun was down, so I shouldn’t have been too surprised when Vik walked in. The fairies don’t like most vamps. My sister was an exception, and for her they tolerated the Pit.
Vik was wearing his usual floor-length leather trench coat, with silver buckles and buttons. His raven-black hair was slicked back. The indirect light in the shop made sharp angles over his nose and cheeks. It was an imposing sight on a vampire only a few inches shorter than me.
“Hey, Damian,” he said as he walked up to the counter.
I smiled and nodded. “Whatcha up to Vik?”
“Thought I’d stop by the pet shop on my way to work. Your sister asked me to drop by and give you this.” He glanced at Frank. His lips curled up into a smile just large enough to show his fangs as he laid a small twine-wrapped box on the glass.
Bubbles and Peanut charged up to the counter, sat down on either side of it, and began growling.
“Whoa, easy pups,” I said. “It’s just Vik.”
Vik took a step back. The dogs kept growling, their focus on the counter.
“I do not think they are growling at me,” Vik said.
I nodded and slid the package down the glass, away from the cu siths. “Why didn’t Sam bring it? Besides that, you couldn’t have brought Zola back with you?”
“What?” He looked puzzled.
“I dropped her off last night; she wanted to talk to Vasili or someone about zombies.”
“Ah, probably Lester. He is more of an antique than she is.”
My eyes widened. “Vik, if you value your existence, you will never, ever, say that in front of Zola.”
He laughed. “I was downtown. I wasn’t with the Pit.” He scratched the back of his hand. “I will be next door for a short time, if you have need of me.”
“Sooo … has Annabelle asked you why you buy a ferret every week?”
Vik shrugged.
“Have you been using some fancy vamp voodoo on her?”
I saw Frank jerk his head and stare at me when I said that.
Vik laughed. It was a dark sound. I should have felt bad for the critters, but I really didn’t like ferrets. I’d seen Vik eat a ferret once. I could only describe it as an explosion. Fur through a turbine. Unreal.
He waved as he left, jingling the bell.
“Straight answers, that’s what I like,” I said as I turned to look at Frank. He was staring at me. I smiled and waited.
“That … was … was a vampire!”
My eyebrows jumped in false surprise. “Ding, ding, ding!” I let out a short chuckle. “I know you’ve got love blinders on right now, but how many times have you met Vik?”
He shrugged.
“You realize he lives in Sam’s house, yes?” I shook my head and stared at him. “Didn’t you just go to dinner with a vampire?”
“Uh, yeah, but, uh.” He scratched his head and blew out a breath. “I’ll pay more attention.”
Foster landed on the counter and used the tip of his sword sheath to poke the box Vik left. The fairy’s arrival seemed to calm the cu siths. They ran behind Frank and untied his shoelaces. He was leaning against the counter and didn’t seem to notice. At least Bubbles and Peanut were nice enough to jump around and over each other enough to create a knot even Alexander the Great couldn’t hack his way through. Unfortunately, said knot was between Frank’s feet.
Foster laid his hand on the twine wrapped tightly around the package and looked up at me. “Darkness, Damian, why do you bring this here?”
“Whoa, hey now,” I pointed at my chest “I didn’t bring it here.”
“Your sister is a vampire. She sent this through her carrier. It was brought here because you are here.” Foster glared at me like I was a rabid ferret he needed to put down.
“Melodramatic much?”
He frowned.
“I’ll get it out of here tonight. I have to return my tux first.”
He nodded once, whistled for his dogs, and took off for the back room.
“I still can’t get used to seeing him.”
“Who, Foster?”
Frank nodded.
“You’re dating a vampire.”
“That’s different.”
I laughed and shook my head. “It’s really his dogs you should be more concerned about anyway.”
“Wh–,” Frank took that instant to attempt a step backwards. The knot pulled tight between his feet and he tried to grab the counter as his body toppled backward, his hand sliding smoothly off the glass with a short squeak. His head smacked the wall and I swear he went cross-eyed for a good ten seconds. A small groan escaped his lips as he rubbed what was sure to be a knot on his head.
“Like I said, the dogs.”
Chapter Sixteen
I left Frank to run the shop. He was wincing and holding an icepack on his head when I left to make my run back to West County Mall. I parked in the garage and pulled the tux out of the car. I was pretty sure someone was neglecting their maintenance duties when the automatic door squealed like a fork on a dinner plate. My jaw clenched at the sound as I walked in across from the food court. The mall was pretty dead considering it should have been the dinner rush. Speaking of dinner, the smell of fresh pretzels hit me two seconds later. I gagged, hogtied, and stuffed my willpower into a little box in the back of my brain before stopping at Auntie Anne’s for a jalapeno pretzel dog and a cinnamon sugar pretzel chaser. Mountain Dew and pretzels
in hand, I wandered down to the tuxedo shop.
I could see Bobby, the Lord of Tuxes, working diligently behind the counter. Ah, sweet karma.
“Hey, Bobby!” I said in my most cheerful, ballpark voice as I waved my pretzels at him.
His head sagged and he slowly pushed himself off the stool. “No food or drink in the store.”
I shrugged and walked in anyway. “Hey, I’ve got tux insurance, what do I care?”
“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered.
I handed him the garment bag with my tux in it. He scanned it in, hung it on the rack behind him, and turned to print out the receipts. I smiled, signed my name, and waited, taking a huge bite of jalapeno pretzel dog. He folded the credit card receipt, stuffed the white copy into the register’s drawer, and handed me the yellow copy. Then he turned to open the bag with the tux in it.
The buzz of the zipper was followed by a gasp. The gasp was followed by “Oh my god!” Bobby rooted through the bag and pulled out the baggie of cufflinks and those little black studs.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’re all there.”
“Oh my god!” He shook his head like a pit bull had a hold of it. “You’re going to have to pay for these damages. This is,” his eyes flicked back to the tux and then back to me, “this is horrible.”
“No, no, no, Bobby,” I said with a smile. I waved my finger at him. “I bought the most expensive tux insurance you offered. The insurance you were so insistent I needed because it covered any damages … and look! You were right, Bobby!” I slapped the counter and grinned. I held up the little yellow slip. “Besides, I already have my receipt and you, as I can see on your screen here, already checked the tux back in. You have a good day now.”
He groaned, cursed, and put his head down on the counter as I walked out.
“Jackass,” I said under my breath. I smiled and took another bite as I headed back to the parking garage.
* * *
The first thing I did was share the tale of the Lord of Tuxes with Frank and Foster. As soon as Foster disappeared into the clock with a laugh, I cut the twine on the little box behind the counter. I unfolded the top of the plain cardboard box and opened the flaps. The musty smell of aged paper climbed into the air around us as I removed the oblong packet of black tissue.