“You don’t know a fucking thing about Frank Butcher.” I finished my proclamation with two gestures. One was a proudly up-raised middle finger. The second was a slash through the air with my other hand, fingers curled into claws.
My golden blood, ice-cold since the rock got stitched up inside me, turned to fire in my veins as my fingers tore into the blazing stitches of the ritual swirling all around me. La Corazon hammered harder and harder in my chest. It was so loud I wouldn’t have been surprised if everyone in the room could hear it. I kept pulling with that one hand before dropping my one-fingered salute and throwing my other hand into the struggle in an effort to pull the whole thing down. The taste of blood filled my mouth and my vision went black around the edges as time seemed to slow.
Strand by strand the ritual began to tear free, but as it did those same strands cut into my fingers, slicing into them like I was trying to tear apart barbed wire. The stitches on my chest tore open and blood soaked through the front of my chest as a horrible ripping sound filled the air. Then the shrieking started. I wasn’t sure where it came from since it seemed to come from fucking everywhere, but it was loud, and with each tortured strand I pulled free it grew louder. It almost sounded like what I imagined a bat would sound like if you tore its wings off with your bare hands, you know, times a billion.
I honestly wasn’t sure if it was the sound of the ritual coming apart at the seams or my limbs tearing from their sockets as my muscles corded and my skin tore. The smell of burning flesh filled my nose as I collapsed onto my knees still grabbing the ritual by the short hairs. I couldn’t see as darkness encroached from every which way, but that was fine. All I had to do was take this thing down and everything would be fine, Max and Gabby would be fine. I could do that for them.
No, I had to do this for them. I rose, forcing myself to my feet and redoubling my grip on the ritual’s threads even as they sliced deep grooves across my palms and my blood splattered across the shoes. I gritted my teeth, shut my eyes, and used the Force. Only instead of hearing Yoda telling me to “do or do not,” I just saw Gabby standing there, telling me it was all right, that I’d already done enough. She told me I didn’t have to kill myself. And you know what, she was right, I didn’t have to kill myself. Hell, I didn’t want to kill myself. But I did want to stop this damned thing.
My eyes snapped open, and as they did, something about the ritual changed. The tapestry laid itself bare before me. I could still feel la Corazon smashing away at my ribcage like a goddamned jackhammer, could see the golden light spilling out of my reopened chest wound, could taste the gold and blood in my mouth, but that was nothing compared to the splendor of the tapestry.
Unlike before, I could make out every knot, every tiny twist and turn, and I realized that I didn’t have to brute force the whole thing down. I didn’t have to do any such thing because the tapestry wasn’t just some mishmash of threads woven together. No it followed a pattern, and every pattern had a linchpin. This was no different.
As I released my hold on the tapestry and reached out toward that shining, golden thread, some of the cultists, started to rush us, to try to stop me, but Gabriela was at my side. It didn’t matter either way. The fight was already over. Whether I won or lost was going to come down to whether or not I had the willpower to see this through to the bitter end. La Corazon was going crazy in my chest, and as I grabbed hold of the thread, I knew all I had to do to stop everything was tug it free. I also knew one other thing. La Corazon wouldn’t let me live through it. Well, that was fine. I didn’t want to live forever anyway.
If you hadn’t figured it out by now, when it comes to being stubborn, us Butchers make mules look downright reasonable.
I pulled on that fucking string, and as I did, the whole thing came tumbling down on top of me, spilling power into me, drowning me in the backlash of the ritual tearing itself apart. The Energy hit me like an axe to the chest, throwing me backward in a spray of blood as my ribs cracked under the force of la Corazon trying desperately to nullify a tidal wave of magic.
I ignored it as I tried to get to my feet. There was screaming and confusion and shit starting to blow up, all around me, but I wasn’t dead yet. I still had one last thing to do. I had to stop Marcus, had to end this war for sure.
A bloody cry sprayed from my lips and darkness encroached on my vision as I turned toward Marcus. He was trying desperately to keep the million strands of magic stitched together by the Enders over who-the-fuck-knows–how-many years from giving away. And, for a moment, it looked like he was going to succeed. Unfortunately, there was one thing he hadn’t counted on. Me.
I leapt toward him, tackling him to the ground. As I did, my right hand swept outward, pulling the full force of the ritual down upon us. Magic bucked and swayed around us, distorting reality. The ground beneath our feet turned to ice before vaporizing into steam. Marcus tried to struggle, tried to pull away, but I held fast, and as I did, the ritual exploded. I had half a second to realize what had happened before my vision went gold and the ground beneath my feet lurched violently.
As the force of the explosion threw us both backward, I felt the forces slam into me like a freight train, and I was the lucky one. While they tore at my flesh, burning me through and through, they simply ripped Marcus apart at the seams. His flesh came off in crimson clumps as his very essence disintegrated into a bloody cloud that too was consumed.
I tried to turn away and look at Gabriela so I could make sure she was okay, but my head chose that moment to smash awkwardly into the far wall, and as it did, la Corazon stopped beating. The rock in my chest went from full on sprint to nothing in the space of a second. My breath caught in my throat and my head started to pound. I gasped, trying to breathe, but it was no use.
“Frank!” Gabby caught me as I fell forward, and before I lost consciousness completely, I got one last look ahead. Max’s eyes were opening, and those stupid chains fell off of him. Good. I’m glad everyone made it.
With that bit of satisfaction, my knees hit the ground and everything faded to a hazy pinprick of gold.
21
“That sounds really sweet, Frankie,” Momma said as she scratched at her crossword puzzle. “A bit melodramatic, but you always were Mommy’s little drama king.”
I rolled my eyes. Betty Butcher might be my mom, but she always told it like it was or at least what she thought it was. “C’mon, Mom, I really did see all that.”
Her apartment was cramped and extraordinarily pink, with the heavy scent of floral perfume. It was pretty much like it always was, even if I knew better. Though I still wanted to punt kick Roland Lambert square in the uprights, he had done one thing right by me when we were packed off into the EnderTech building. He’d sent some White mages to keep an eye on Mom’s place and make some security additions. On the sly, of course. The White were still trying to play the hiding game.
Naturally, I went straight away to wreck that, telling Mom the whole story, from start to finish.
I wasn’t sure she believed me, to be honest, but she was nice enough not to say it directly. It wasn’t that she didn’t think something happened. I think she just thought I was spinning a pile of bullshit to cover up either something illegal, or something I wasn’t cleared to talk about. Maybe both. After all, she still wasn’t sure the moon landing was real. Either way, Mom seemed happy I had met a nice lady for once. Yeah, my track record with the fairer sex was up-and-down to be sure. Like I said, I tend to make bad choices.
“One thing I don’t get, hon, is if there were all those crazy magic guys and you flat on your ass, how’d you, Gabby, and Max get the hell out of there?” Mom’s crazy high bouffant hair wavered in the stiff breeze of the window air conditioner. “If they were swiping kids, they weren’t gonna getcha a Band-Aid and some bed rest for your boo-boo.”
“Breaking three ribs isn’t a boo-boo, Mom, Christ!” I left out the torn muscles and internal bleeding in an effort to avoid a personal pity party. This was supposed to be
an informative story, after all. “There was a lot of chaos going on when I tore that ritual apart. Like I said, shit was blowing up, people were getting fried, and once your leader is dead, even fanatics get to the point where they want to save their own skin rather than die real fast. I think seeing their big plan fucked up really took the steam out of them, well, those that didn’t get turned to slime and what not.”
I finished pouring a cup of coffee for Mom before making one for myself. “Besides, some of the Enders aren’t half-bad, ya know? Between the Doc taking “shit-for-brains” to task and their own recriminations, there were some folks in the crowd that didn’t want to explode our brains or whatever. Add on a little bit of extra cavalry arriving from the Whites, and I found myself waking up back about where the whole shitstorm began, that room in the Whites’ compound where I woke up with la Corazon. Admittedly, they were a lot cooler about things this time around.”
“They doin’ anything about the Collection?” Mom sipped at her coffee, her heavy-lidded eyes filled with sympathy. One thing Mom and I were of a mind about was collecting. For her, it was Elvis memorabilia. “Considerin’ it was all their bullshit that got things wrecked in the first place.”
“Well, one thing in these guys’ favor is that mundane stuff like DVDs and blown-up apartments aren’t things they worry about much.” I slugged back my coffee in one go. “Money’s no real object when you can wiggle your fingers and create a Buick. Rollie agreed to make amends for how my shit was wrecked. It almost made me wish I’d asked for more.” A shit-eating grin crossed my face. “And, while I’m not a fan of messing with someone’s head, they did magic up a three-week paid vacation from APD for me to get things back in order.”
Momma Butcher nodded slowly. “You’re looking good for the time off. The Goldmans were so worried when I told them what you’d told me on the phone. They could hardly enjoy the poker tournament.” She made a wry frown, that look she always had when she was disapproving of something. “Now, Frankie baby, this isn’t any of my business since you’re a grown boy and all…”
I set my coffee cup down on the service in the living room. “Spit it out, Mom.”
“Well, it just seems like you deserve a heap of a lot more than a three-week vacation and a pat on the back for saving the world.” The frown turned into a beaming smile, something Mom rarely showed anybody. Like me, she was more a fan of the shit-eating grin. “I’m proud of you, though, if it helps any. I know I’ve always ridden you about being a slacker, Frankie, but you really did good, steppin’ up to help those poor people, especially when you didn’t have to do anything.”
There’s almost nothing in this world that can make Frank Butcher blush. This singular moment was one of those things. “Aw, cut it out, Mom.” I stuck out my chin. “I just did what any man would do in such a situation.”
“Can the shit, son.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
On that happy note, I left Mom to her crosswords and coffee. After all, I had a hot date across town. Okay, technically it wasn’t a date, but I was supposed to see Gabriela and Max over at the clinic. The Whites were doing right by them as well as by me, at least in a relative sense. Mom was right. Lambert had better cough up quite a bit more before things were over.
Still, things were really looking up now, and not just in terms of my self-image. Gabby and Max were doing well. Molly had tracked me down while I was still convalescing in the White house and we’d compared new scars. HA!
She was on the mend and despite all odds, most of our little elite crew had made it out alive. Luna was going to continue to be the most badass grandmother on the planet and while Richter had lost an eye, he was rocking a pretty sweet eyepatch. Both Bronson and Norris had laid down their lives, which made me feel kind of bad because I still couldn’t tell them the fuck apart, but all things considered, we had made out pretty good in the casualty department. I was definitely going to try to arrange a reunion, under better circumstances with a whole lot of booze. You know, at Rollie’s expense of course.
Let’s not make light of things though. I had seriously fucked myself up when I’d stopped the Enders. Most of the Whites relied on magic for healing people, and not even the best doctor in the world would have known what to do about my injuries thanks to their decidedly magical nature.
I owed Gabby my life another time over. It certainly didn’t hurt that she was everything I could look for in a lady (though I had to admit Molly would rank a close second just for her sheer “devil-may-care, guts-and-glory” attitude, but that was probably my bad decision making at work).
Gabby and I had spent a lot of time together during those weeks of recovery, but it was all doctor-patient. This was going to be our first calm, cool, social situation, so I wanted to do this shit right. I had taken the time to watch a few rom-coms the night before to get in the right mindset, (Don’t laugh) and I had even stopped to pick up some flowers on the way to the clinic. Not too fancy, not too much, and not too forward, it was a nice bouquet. I was proud of myself. For once I was going to make the right choice and do things the right way. Maximum effort, no fuck-ups.
The clinic waiting room was exactly like I remembered it from before. Not a floor tile was out of place, not a waiting room magazine was missing. It was still a bit slower than before, with only a few folks in the waiting room, but the place had only reopened the day before. The people would come back once word got around. The Doc was just that good.
Flowers in a vase under one arm, I strolled up to the receptionist’s desk, manned by Kit as always. She smiled at me. “Frank!” See, when word gets out that you saved their boss’s life along with heroically saving her son from kidnappers, folks can get real appreciative, real fast. “Glad to see you! You look like you’re feeling a lot better.”
I flashed my best smile. “Thanks, Kit. I’ve got to be honest, I feel like a million bucks.” I glanced toward the back. “The Doc’s expecting me… “
“Oh sure, go right on in!” Kit pressed a button that buzzed open the door. “See you later, Frank.”
I whistled a merry tune and strolled through the halls. It was getting near the end of normal office hours and things were starting to settle down behind the scenes as well. Whistling Elvis’s A Little Less Conversation, I stepped up to Gabriela’s office door and knocked three times.
It was a long moment before I heard Gabby’s reply. “Is that you, Frank?” I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something about her voice that was a little off. On edge, more like. Well, it was near the end of the day, and it’s got to be stressful as hell to be a cancer doctor. A lot of bad news to give out in that line of work, a million times worse than me telling somebody their delivery’s delayed.
“Yeah, Doc, it’s me.” I tried not to get worked up over nothing, even though my instincts were starting to go into overdrive. Too much combat lately. I was like this right after coming home from Afghanistan too and I’d been one of the lucky ones. I managed to finally come back down and settle in. Some guys never do. “You ready?”
There was another short pause. “Just finishing up some paperwork.” Yeah, the goosebumps were coming on, and I found my hands clenching involuntarily. “Come on in while I finish up.”
Well, there was nothing to be done for it. It was probably just me anyway. I shrugged to myself and stepped into the office.
At first glance, everything was totally normal. Gabriela was behind her desk, paperwork in orderly stacks on top, with Max by her side. What wasn’t normal was that all eyes weren’t on me, but to the side of the door.
I turned on my heel in time to see a familiar-looking walking hunk of blood-red Play-Doh, garbed in white robes now instead of black. He grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me with gentle strength into the office while slamming the door closed with his other giant mitt.
“Abner?” I bitched as I found my back pushed against the side wall. “What the fuck, man?”
“Frank, he–” Gabriela tried to get out, but Abne
r cut her off.
“Frank Butcher, my master demands your presence along with the presence of both the doctor and Maximillan Perez.” That gentle grip on my shoulder cranked up to “move-and-I’ll-break-your-fucking-bones” strength. “Please do not object or there will be unfortunate repercussions.”
I looked helplessly from Gabriela, to the obviously frightened Max, and back to old Clayface. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but something about this situation was definitely atypical.
“Abner, come on, just tell me what’s going on. We’re pals, remember? I’m sure we can work this out,” I said, trying vainly to break free. It wasn’t super effective.
“I’m afraid that’s impossible, Frank,” Luna said as she stepped out of the space on the far side of the room. She had her ruby wand clutched in one hand, and I instantly realized she’d been veiled this whole time to keep us from seeing her. Still, shouldn’t I have seen her? I thought so, but ever since I’d dropped that ritual, la Corazon hadn’t been working well. Gabby still wasn’t even sure why I was alive, nor why I couldn’t see the threads anymore, and while that freaked me the fuck out, I was happy to be alive. Until now. Now, faced with Luna and Abner, I wished I wasn’t just alive.
“Why not?” Gabriela asked, and as the words left her mouth, Richter stepped out of the shadows from behind her and pressed a bedazzled MP5 into her back.
“Because the Enders were onto something when they took Max,” Luna said, and the sorrow in her voice hurt me. She didn’t want to do this, but at the end of the day, she was a good soldier. The kind who followed orders no matter what. Fuck.
“Wait,” I said before Gabriela could do something stupid and get herself killed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we need to take Max if we’re to complete our own ritual and give magic to everyone,” Luna replied.
“No!” Gabriela screamed, leaping toward Max, but as she did, Richter cold-cocked her on the back of the head. She slid to the ground like a boneless fish as I struggled unsuccessfully to get free.
Heart of Gold_An Urban Fantasy Novel Page 17