by Barry Reese
Hans closed his eyes, surprised that his master would encourage him to do such a thing. His distaste for the ghostly side of Shinigami’s powers had been well established… for him to directly ask Hans to call upon them meant only one thing: the Warlike Manchu was concerned about what the Peregrine was up to. For the most part, the Manchu had been content to allow his pupil to handle the lightning war against the Peregrine while he stood back in the shadows, making plans to seize control of the criminal underworld throughout the east coast… but now it appeared that he was ready to step forward into the fray.
For a moment, Hans felt nothing through the spectral void… but then he felt his father emerge from the ether. Lars Merkel stood before him, looking sour and resentful.
“Yes, my son?”
Hans smiled at the sarcastic tone in his father’s voice. He ignored the Warlike Manchu’s stare and directed his full attention to the ghost. “The Peregrine is in flight… where is he going?”
Lars was silent for a moment, staring past his son and into the void. When he spoke again, he seemed to have lost some of his anger and a hint of a smile touched his lips. “It’s hard to make out the specifics because the Peregrine’s father is still protecting him… but I know that Davies and Kaslov are looking for the one person who knows how to destroy the Warlike Manchu forever. They’re supposedly somewhere in Denmark.”
“What is that?” Hans pressed, eyes narrowing.
“Ask your master,” Lars replied, vanishing from sight. Hans muttered an expletive in German, scarcely believing that his father would leave without being told to do so.
“You have learned…?” The Manchu asked.
“My father claims that the Peregrine is seeking information from someone who is capable of destroying you. They are headed towards Denmark.”
The Warlike Manchu stood up so quickly that Hans took a step back in alarm. “You must leave at once. You are to go to Copenhagen and stop them. If you must engage the Peregrine, you are to do so. Do you understand?”
Hans blinked in surprise, wondering what was going on. “Of course. But with the Peregrine away, now would be the perfect time to strike at his wife and child.”
“I shall deal with that! Now go! Now!”
Hans turned and strode from the room, a smile growing on his face. Something had terrified the normally unflappable Warlike Manchu… When I’ve killed the Peregrine and his friend, I’m going to find out what it is that troubles you so, Master. I might just use it against you myself.
CHAPTER VIII
The Bonds of Friendship
January 28, 1940
12:20 AM
Atlanta, Georgia
“So he still hasn’t asked you out?” Evelyn pressed, sipping from a glass of wine and staring out into the starry Georgia night.
Libby blushed at the directness of the question. The two women were both in their nightgowns, their modesty protected by long pajama coats. It had been Evelyn’s suggestion that they stay up a bit late and enjoy some wine before turning in. Libby found that it was an excellent idea—her duties with Leonid sometimes made it difficult to maintain close friendships and she found Evelyn very easy to talk to. “Leo’s been more attentive… but for him, that’s not saying much. He actually greets me every morning when he comes in the office and he mentioned how nice my hair looked a couple of weeks ago.”
“He’s trying,” Evelyn agreed. “He is a handsome man, I’ll give him that.”
“You’re the lucky one,” Libby teased. “Max is handsome, rich… I bet when he’s not brooding, he’s even funny.”
“He broods a lot,” Evelyn pointed out. “But I am lucky. I just wish he’d stop pushing himself so hard. I can’t very well tell him he should retire and let somebody else handle it, though… I’ve been there with him when the world was literally on the brink of destruction and he was the only one who could stop it. So I tell myself to stop being so selfish and just accept that danger is going to be a part of our lives, like it or not.”
“I wish Leo could do that… the reason he’s so stand-offish with me is that he worries he’ll be putting me into danger. But I told him to just look around… I’m in danger, just by knowing him.”
“We’re all in danger,” Evelyn laughed. “Every day, we could be hit by a car in the middle of the street or struck by lightning or we could be attacked by a vampire.”
“A vampire?” Libby asked, shocked at the sudden intrusion of the unusual into their conversation.
“Trust me, it happens.”
“You ladies enjoying yourselves?” Flynn asked, stepping out into the night air with them. He had opened his shirt a bit, revealing the white undershirt beneath his button up attire. Evelyn couldn’t deny that he was an attractive man but he struck her as a bit too much like the handsome types who hung around the movie sets, getting by on their charm and good looks.
“We’re fine,” Libby answered, batting her eyelashes at him. “No one’s tried to kill us yet.”
“That’s a relief. But then again, the night’s not over yet.”
Evelyn caught the way that Flynn was looking at Libby and decided it was time she headed up to bed. “I’ll see you both at breakfast,” she said, giving the briefest of winks to Libby as she went inside.
Libby colored slightly and looked away.
“Are you cold out here?” Flynn asked.
“I’m fine, Benjamin… but this does give us the chance to talk.”
Flynn nodded, leaning over the banister next to her. “It’s about Leo, I take it.”
“How did you know?”
“Because all conversations with you go back to Leo sooner or later.”
Libby felt badly for Flynn at that moment. She’d done an awful thing, leading him on… “I think I love him,” she said simply, hoping that would be enough.
To her relief, Flynn just chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve known that, Libby. Known it since before you and I had our little rendezvous on the way to Canada a few months back. I just hoped… I just hoped that maybe I’d make you see different.”
“Oh, Flynn… you’re a wonderful man. Someday a girl’s gonna go all soft over you.”
“I hope she’s half as pretty as you are,” Flynn said, giving her one of those dashing smiles that was equal parts of bravado and sincerity. “Leo’s a lucky man.”
“He’s lucky to have a friend like you,” she answered, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. Before he could say anything further, she turned from him and entered the house.
“You win some, you lose some,” he murmured at her back, too softly for her to hear.
CHAPTER IX
The Dragon’s Daughter
January 30, 1940
3:20 PM
Copenhagen, Denmark
Winter in Copenhagen was far worse than Max had expected. As he and Kaslov moved through the city streets, he couldn’t resist shivering under his long coat and protective gear. His Peregrine mask was not in place, instead resting in the left pocket of Max’s coat, but the rest of his nocturnal attire was being worn.
Kaslov seemed unaffected by the snow and cold, his silver hair and icy blue eyes making him look like a Nordic god come to life.
The two men moved along one of the city’s canals, Max keeping a close eye on the many Nazi posters and slogans written on the walls. The city was not far away from occupation and it was a loudly whispered fact that the city leaders were working in somewhat forced cooperation with Hitler’s men at the moment. Like many in Europe, they feared angering the mercurial German leader, knowing that they could be crushed under his heel at any moment. Though many in America wished to ignore the spreading tide of Fascism, Max knew that the fires of war would reach American shores eventually.
Gaily painted row houses almost made Max forget the dark thoughts that plagued him. Shops, hostelries and private homes lined both sides of the canal. Along the banks were moored a series of sailing vessels, most of them covered by heavy tarps to keep the snow out.
The cobblestone pathways had been swept clean not long before, allowing for the two men’s footfalls to echo loudly as they moved.
“How much further?” Kaslov asked, the first words that had been spoken between them since they’d landed the previous night. Max had to admit that he enjoyed working with the Russian, who seemed comfortable with silence in a way that others never did.
“I think it’s that shop there,” Max answered, pointing with a gloved hand to a store with the stenciled words “Rare Books” on the exterior window. The bookstore was in the bottom portion of a two-story building and looked very well taken care of. A fat yellow-orange cat was meandering about the front door, occasionally scratching at it with one paw.
“The daughter of the Warlike Manchu runs a bookstore,” Kaslov said without humor. The Russian reached the business first and rapped on the door without preamble. Both men were uncertain as to what was awaiting them, but Max was certain that the key to defeating the Warlike Manchu was here.
The door was opened by a woman of radiant beauty. She was of Chinese descent, her eyes a stunning jade in color and full of secrecy. She wore a button-up red and yellow blouse of silk, an ankle-length skirt brushing against her legs. The cat darted past her into the shop but she took no obvious notice of it. Instead, she stared at the Peregrine with the faintest hint of a smile. Max recognized her immediately as the woman from his recovered memory… furthermore, he suddenly knew without a doubt who she was.
“Koreani,” he said. “I suppose you know why I’m here.”
“Of course,” she answered. “You’re here to kill my father. Please step in.”
Kaslov and the Peregrine entered the store, which was cast in dim shadows and floating particles of dust. The main room was filled with books and badly straining shelves. The cat had taken up a perch on a cushion in the corner of the room, purring loudly.
“Does your father know that we’re here?” Max asked.
“If he did, we’d all be in terrible danger,” Koreani said. She moved into another room and returned a moment later with a tray of tea. “It took you longer than I would have thought to come find me, Mr. Davies.”
“You’ve waited all these years?” Max asked.
“Not just for you. I work here. This is my home but it may not be for much longer. The Germans are everywhere, like rats. I may leave for another country soon enough. But this war that’s spreading like wildfire… it may engulf the world.”
Kaslov took a cup of tea, sniffed it and then sat down in a plush chair. “Can you give us any reason to trust you?”
“My father and I are not close,” she said in response, smoothing down her skirt as she took her own seat. “He wanted a male heir to his empire. An accident in battle robbed him of the opportunity to sire more children and he took out his anger on me. It was very hard to be his daughter.”
“I can imagine,” Kaslov replied. “But it might go a long way in terms of improving your relations if you were to turn his greatest enemy over to him.”
Koreani studied the Russian in silence for a moment. When spoke again, her words carried a brittle tone that threatened to end the conversation completely. “Nothing I do will ever erase the fact that I am not a male. If you have come here for no other reasons than to insult my honesty, you may leave at any time.”
Max leaned forward then, trying to project his concern to this woman. “My family is in grave danger. Your father has a new student, a German who goes by the name Shinigami. They’ve threatened and killed my friends. I need to put a stop to this. Please.”
Koreani studied him for a moment and then nodded. “My father maintains his youth because of a special elixir. I have created a counter-serum that will reverse the de-aging process. If he takes in even a little bit of the counter-serum, he will begin to age at an incredibly rapid rate.”
“How old are you?” Kaslov interrupted, studying her. “I get the feeling you’re not as young as you look, either.”
“I was born over sixty years ago,” she said, surprising Max. He thought she looked not a day over twenty-five. “I have used the same elixir as my father.”
“How is this any different than putting a bullet in his brain?” the Peregrine asked. “I still have to get close enough to him to use the counter-serum on him. It’s just another method of murdering him.”
“This is not murder,” Koreani countered. “This is undoing a falsehood. My father is ancient. He should have died long ago. Plus, my father has altered his body chemistry so that he heals very quickly. What would kill a normal man would only wound him. The only sure way to end his threat is to use this counter-serum.” Koreani rose from her seat and moved over to a bookcase, where she pulled a large leather-bound volume from the shelf. She opened the book, revealing its nature as a placeholder for a small syringe set into the center of the “book.” It was filled with a yellow-orange liquid.
The Peregrine allowed her to place the syringe in his hand, staring into her face. The sunlight illuminated her eyes, as the rays streamed in through the nearby window. She looked just as wise as her father but with a vulnerability that he always seemed to lack. “I’ll take care of him,” Max promised. “He won’t bother anyone ever again.”
She opened her mouth to say something but her words were lost forever as a crack sounded from outside, just as the window exploded and a bullet struck home in the side of Koreani’s head. Blood and bone flew from the wound and Kaslov was the first to react, throwing himself from his chair and knocking the Peregrine to the floor. Koreani fell to the carpeted floor, her cat taking off to a safer location deeper in the shop.
The Peregrine stared at Koreani in horror, knowing that she’d put herself at risk to help him… her death was partially on his hands.
From outside, a German accented voice rang out. “Come out and play, little Peregrine. Shinigami is here.”
CHAPTER X
Kidnapped!
January 30, 1940
9:30 AM
Atlanta, Georgia
Evelyn tried to ignore the way the police officers stared at her as she ran past. She wore a modest pair of knee-length shorts and a sleeveless blouse but it was still enough to elicit lust in the men around her, apparently. Few people gave thought to how the leading ladies of Hollywood kept in shape but Evelyn did it by running a couple of miles a week and watching her diet.
The plantation property was large enough to give her a variety of running spaces, keeping things from getting too boring. She had just finished moving through the tall grasses on the outskirt of the property and was about to head back out for the last leg when she passed the patrol car that had been parked out front for the last couple of days. Assigned by McKenzie, the rotating groups of officers were there to ensure that Evelyn and her family were safe. So far, they’d done their job well enough but the two who were currently on duty now were ‘fans’ of Evelyn’s, having seen her in several plays and movies. Their favorites had, apparently, been the ones in which she’d appeared in the least amount of clothing.
Sighing, Evelyn focused on the task at hand. She pushed herself harder and harder, feeling a burn that started in her chest and spread downwards, spiking in her calves. She couldn’t worry about what Max was up to—he could take care of himself, especially with Leonid alongside him—but she did have concerns as to whether or not the Warlike Manchu might have shared his knowledge with other criminals. How many more madmen would come gunning for her and William in the years to come?
Panting, Evelyn finished her run, returning to the house after another ten or fifteen minute jog. She staggered to the back porch, picking up a white cotton towel that she’d left there for the purposes of drying the back of her neck. She noticed that the back door was standing wide open, which was unusual. Nettie was a stickler for keeping the doors closed, especially with a crawling baby on the loose.
As she started up the back stairs, another thing caught her eye: the police car was sitting where it had been for the last couple
of days, but there were no officers around it.
Suddenly fearing the worst, Evelyn sprinted into the house. The pain in her chest and legs was completely forgotten, especially when she saw Nettie lying on her back in the middle of the kitchen. Evelyn knelt and checked the frail old woman’s pulse, happily noting that it was strong and regular.
Flynn, she thought, hoping that the rambunctious fellow had proven as capable as Kaslov thought he was. She pictured Josh, the plantation’s mammoth black farmhand, as well, but knew he wouldn’t be any match for the Warlike Manchu’s minions. Neither, for that matter, would be Libby…
“Calm yourself, Mrs. Davies. Becoming frantic will do you no good whatsoever.”
Evelyn didn’t bother looking to see who was speaking. She knew it instinctively. The lilting tones didn’t belong to anyone who should have been in the house and that could mean only one thing: it was either the Warlike Manchu himself or one of his agents.
She sprang up with a dancer’s grace, moving towards the sound of the voice with astonishing speed. She now saw him—tall, lean and of Oriental descent. It was the Manchu, dressed in a set of green robes with a rampant yellow dragon on the front. He threw up a hand to block her kick easily enough, then did it again and again as she tried to rain down blows against him. Evelyn was a natural fighter, having taken to the lessons given her by Max quickly and smoothly… but the Warlike Manchu made her look like an amateur, one who was moving in slow motion. He allowed her to continue her assault until she began to slow with weariness and he then ended the charade by grabbing hold of her right wrist and twisting it painfully, driving her to her knees. He continued holding it above her head, occasionally increasing his hold upon it, until she was still.
“Your son will be raised in a most proper fashion,” he said, leaning close so that his words were whispered almost lovingly in her ear.
“What…?” she stammered, seeing past the pain as best she could.