by Jon F. Merz
It took me a while to clean out the deep cuts on my torso. Small embedded stones took forever to pick out. By the time I was done, I was bleeding again, but only a little bit. It stained the foggy water as I soaped up one last time and then pulled the plug.
I saw the gauze and tape on the vanity and grinned. Wirek was remarkably well-supplied. I dressed the wound first and then finished toweling off.
Wirek knocked on the door. "Got some stuff here for you to put on."
I opened the door and took the clothes. He nodded at my chest. "Clean?"
"Yeah."
"There’s shorts and another T-shirt there oughta fit you. I don’t have much else. You’re bigger than I am, so pants are out."
"This is fine. Gimme a minute and I’ll be out."
I slid into the clothes. Worn as they were, they felt soft going on.
Wirek sat nursing a cup of coffee on the couch when I came out. "Got some more on the stove if you’re interested."
"Tea?"
"Bags in the cupboard. Help yourself."
I fixed myself a cup and then sat down in his recliner. It eased back, elevating my legs. "Damn that feels good."
"Looks like I could offer you a porcupine pillow and that’d be better than what you went through tonight."
"Just about."
"I’m guessing the recon of your house didn’t go so well."
I toasted him with my mug. "You are wise beyond your years."
"Yeah, I know." He took a sip of coffee. "Tell me about it."
I did. When I finished, he just looked at me and shook his head. "Helluva night."
"Understatement."
"How’s your back?"
"Why?"
"Electrical burns. You got any?"
"Don’t think so. I don’t feel it."
"Good. It’s bad enough you’ll have some scars on your chest for a while." He sighed. "So, what now?"
"I don’t know."
"Well, you can’t go home. Petrov will keep a watch on your place. That’s elementary. Plus, if what you said is true, he’ll be gunning for the boy even more now."
"And now he’s likely pretty pissed off I escaped."
"And how," said Wirek. "You need a plan, my friend."
"I need sleep." I looked at the tea and frowned. "And juice. You got any?"
"Juice?"
"Blood."
He grinned. "That’s right. I remember hearing you called it that." He chuckled and walked to the kitchen. I watched him go and didn’t say anything. I didn’t particularly feel like explaining myself to him right then.
He returned with a tall glass filled with blood. I drank it down straight, feeling the life force energy hit me a few seconds later.
I brought the glass away from my lips. "Thanks. I haven’t had anything all day."
"Christ, Lawson, you gotta take better care of yourself. You can’t go out looking for the kind of trouble Petrov brings on without nourishing up first. Take some responsibility would you?"
I smiled. Hearing that kind of talk from a drunk like Wirek was strangely ironic. I told him as much.
"Recovering alcoholic to you." He thumbed at the guest room where Jack was sleeping. "It’s a bad example for the kid, drinking all that tequila."
"Does this couch fold out into a bed or what?"
He rolled his eyes. "Don’t tell me I just inherited another house guest."
"Like you said, I can’t go home. I need to get some rest. Tonight took a lot out of me."
"Yeah, you really look like shit."
"As appraised by the resident expert." I grinned. "You mind?"
"I got no choice." He got up and found some musty old blue blankets and sheets. "I’ll keep the heat up tonight to compensate for my lack of linens."
"How’s Jack?"
"Amazing."
"Excuse me?"
Wirek stopped fitting a pillow case. "I said he’s amazing. We did some practicing tonight."
"What kind of practicing?"
"Nothing spectacular, just basic stuff to get the kid on his feet. He needs to learn how to control what he can do. He’s got more natural talent than anyone I’ve ever seen with regard to that kind of ability."
"You’ve seen a lot?"
Wirek shrugged. "Some. A long time ago. No one like the boy. His power comes to him like a breath of air."
"How does he do it?"
Wirek finished with the pillows. "We can all do it, Lawson. It’s just a matter of getting in touch and in sync with the proper energies is all. The boy there does it simply by emotion."
"You mean if he likes something?"
"No, more like if he’s worried, concerned, angry…that type of thing."
"Makes sense. Back at his house on Saturday he was really worried all right. Those guys were going to kill us."
"Exactly. I led him through some simple channeling exercises tonight that don’t rely so much on emotion as they do sheer intent. If he can be trained to invoke the spirit energies with intention rather than emotion, he’ll be much more powerful. And more in control."
"Where’s you learn how to do this?"
He eyed me. "Wasn’t always a drunk, you know. I did some traveling a while back. You pick up things."
"How long do you think it will take him to get a handle on his power?"
Wirek eased himself back into his recliner. "Could take years, could take days. I don’t really know. I’ve never worked with a protégé before. After all, this isn’t really my gig. The boy needs formal training."
"There’s formal training for this?"
Wirek smiled. "You don’t know everything about our society, Lawson. Try to remember that."
"So what is it, a special school or something?"
"Yes. Like the Fixer training you went through, there’s a school for gifted children like the boy. The training is arduous by any standards, but they come out with the control necessary."
"And then what?"
"They fulfill other job functions in our society."
"Jobs? Invoking spirits is a job?"
"It can be," said Wirek. "It just depends on your perspective."
I laid down on the couch. The blankets felt great against my skin. "Kid took his dad’s death pretty well, all things considered."
"No other family?"
I sighed. "Nope. Mom died when he was younger. It’s just been him and his father for the last few years."
Wirek was quiet for a minute. "Want to tell me about the father?"
I sat up. "Who told you?"
"I did some checking."
I shot a glance at Jack’s room. "Keep your voice down, he’ll hear us."
"What did they tell you about him?"
"I thought it was just another assignment, for god’s sake. His dossier must have been bogus. According to what I was given, he’d been dealing drugs all over town." I shook my head. "You know the sentence that one carries."
Wirek nodded. "If you get an assignment, the sentence is pretty standard."
"They must have set him up. Told him to go out there where I was waiting. Told him anything to get him where I’d find him. They knew I’d do the job without question."
"Well, you have been on thin ice with them lately. Whoever set him up knew that much about you."
"How the hell do you know I’m on thin ice?"
Wirek chuckled. "Lawson, I might have been a drunk, but I’m not a fool. I know a few folks who still roam the halls of power. I hear things." He jabbed a finger at me. "You, my friend, fell in love with a human."
I took a sip of my tea. Cold. I looked at Wirek. "Yes, I did."
He chuckled. "Ain’t moral ambiguities a bitch?"
"My whole life has become a bit of a bitch as of late," I said. "Moral ambiguities notwithstanding."
"Still involved with her?"
I looked at him. "You really want me to answer that?
"I think you just did." He looked away. "You gonna tell the boy?"
"What would you d
o in my situation?"
Wirek shrugged. "I’m not you."
"Pretend."
"Some other time."
I frowned. "You know what his father said to me as he lay dying? He said ‘protect my son.’ He knew, Wirek. He knew he’d been set up as soon as I told him the Council sent me. Looking back on it now, I know he realized it. I thought he was just being noble – you know, the final request? Hell, he knew someone sold him out."
Wirek was quiet for a few moments. "I guess that I wouldn’t tell the boy. At least not right now. Maybe some day you’ll have to. But that’s not one of those things I’d be in a rush to confess."
"Confessions are never my strong point."
"You said the order came form the Council?"
"They all do."
"Good point," said Wirek. "Still, it means only one thing: someone on the Council is dirty."
"Yeah, especially since they’d be the only ones to have knowledge of an Invoker in the vicinity. That’s not common knowledge, after all."
"Other members of the Council may not even know."
I took a final gulp of cold tea. "And they must have contacted Petrov. Arranged for him to grab Jack while I was doing the real dirty work by getting rid of his father. That way there’d be no one to raise a stink."
"The boy would, in effect, disappear."
I didn’t like the feeling of being used for someone’s ulterior motives. I especially didn’t like the feeling of knowing that I’d killed Jack’s last real family. I’d deal with the second thing in my own way, in my own time.
But I’d deal with the first thing a lot sooner.
"I suppose the logical step is to find out whose house you were in tonight."
I nodded. "Newton. On the edge of Brookline and Chestnut Hill."
Wirek looked pained. "I know where it is, Lawson." He mused for a second. "Lots of expensive houses out there."
"I don’t think it was Petrov’s place."
"Why not?"
"Too showy. Petrov’s here to do a job, not set up residence in some fancy part of town. The little I know about him I know he likes to maintain a low profile unless he’s on home turf."
"He say anything to you tonight that you can remember?"
"Spoke a lot about being turned out by the Council. He had some dirt about a Council member. They hushed it up and flushed him out of the service."
Wirek pursed his lips. "Vengeance factors always complicate things."
"Cover-ups do, too."
"Some of us have never looked at the Council as the pinnacle of upstanding citizenship. Not by a long shot."
I nodded. "I’ve become a bit jaded about them myself lately."
Wirek smiled. "I’ll bet." He began ticking off things on his fingers. "So, what have we got: a traitor in the Council who wants to use the boy for his own purposes which as of right now are indeterminable. And a former Fixer whose out to grab the boy at any cost, killing whomever gets in his way."
I grinned. "I’ve noticed something odd about you, Wirek."
"Only one thing? You’ve got a long way to go."
"You can go from the most guttural slang to erudite speech with ease. But you aren’t often consistent with it. You bounce around quite a bit."
Wirek cocked an eyebrow. "What does that have to do with the price of bananas in Belize?"
"Not a damned thing. I’m just making a small observation."
"Damned small." Wirek stood and stretched a bit, yawning as he did so. "Get some sleep, Mr. Fixer. You’ve had a long night and before this talks really gets philosophical, I’m hitting the rack."
I lay back down, pulling the blankets up.
Wirek turned off the lights and left the room.
In the darkness, bits of light filtered in from the streets making shadows dance across the walls. I lay there watching them, thinking about Petrov, the Council and Jack.
Then I thought about Talya.
I thought about her eyes, her smile, the softness of her lips. The way she felt when we made love. The warmth we’d shared for such a short time a few months back.
I missed her.
Falling in love with a human woman was one of the cardinal sins in vampire society. Seduction as a means of getting juice was perfectly fine. But love? No way.
I told the Council it was over. Hell, Talya walked away from me the last time I saw her.
But it was a ruse.
As far as operatives go, Talya was one of the best. And as far as women go, she was tops in my book. I’d be damned if the Council could make me give her up.
I thought about her for a long time. Having her with me now would be a big help. She’d have some great ideas on how to proceed.
As I started to drift off, I saw her face in my mind. Smiling. Sensual. Serious. All at once. I kept that image as long as I could.
And then I fell asleep.
Chapter Seventeen
There’s a saying I once heard that went something along the lines of when you’re in deep shit and you’ve got nowhere to turn, the best thing to do is attack.
Waking up the next morning, I realized my options were about as limited as a castrated midget making a career as a porn actor. Actually, mine seemed worse.
And attacking was the best option.
But in order to attack, I needed information. Specifically, I needed the address of where I’d been held the night before. Only after I had that information could I do what I did best: be the fly in the ointment, the sand in the machinery, and the massive speed bump in the middle of the road.
In order to get that kind fo information, I’d need Arthur’s help. I wasn’t sure how thrilled he’d be about that.
I found out in a hurry later that evening when I showed up at the Council building after five o’clock. When I told Arthur what I needed, he crinkled his forehead and snorted.
"Can’t do it, lad. The information’s stored on a computer."
"I can break into the computer."
"Not bloody likely. It’d be password protected. It’s not some silly door you can kick in."
"Just get me to the computer, Arthur. I can handle the rest."
"And what if they’ve a log that tracks users? Or an alarm? They’d know I let ya in and I’d be cooked." He leaned closer to me. "Lawson, I like my job. Believe it or not. It suits me."
I laid a hand on his shoulder. "Arthur, relax. I know exactly what I’m doing."
"Oh, ya do, do ya?"
"Sure."
He snorted again. "Ya know how many frickin’ times I said exactly that same thing?" He grinned. "Usually, it was right before a whole bungload of bells and whistles went screeching off."
"I promise that won’t happen."
"I made promises too, Lawson. And then I broke ‘em even faster."
"Arthur, I can do it. Just let me have a crack at it."
"You’ve no idea what the set-up is like."
"But I’ve got you. You know what the setup is like."
"Oh sure, drag me right down with ya, is that it?"
"There won’t be any dragging down, Arthur."
"Ya damned right there won’t be." He eyed me. "You sure you
can do it?"
"Honestly? No."
"Dammit Lawson, you’re supposed to lie." He sighed.
"The only way this whole mess could be happening is if someone on the Council is dirty, Arthur. We’ve got one traitor, maybe more, in our midst. It’s our duty to root them out."
"All right, all right. Don’t you lecture me about duty."
"Sorry."
"All right."
I smiled. "All right?"
"Yeah. If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s a traitor in the ranks. But you’d better be right about this. If it turns out everyone on the Council’s clean, you owe me."
"You got it."
He gestured for me to follow him. "All right, let’s make this fast. Come with me."
I’d been in the Council building a few times before but the p
lace never failed to astonish me. From the outside it seemed so much smaller, but on the inside it was a veritable maze of deep, carpeted hallways, rich mahogany walls, and subdued lighting that cast long shadows against a backdrop of old framed portraits and worn leather furniture.
Arthur led me past the stairway that I knew wound downstairs to the Council chambers proper. Zero and I had broken in their only a few months back. I sighed, remembering his friendship, and kept walking.
Ahead of us, the corridor forked and we headed left. Ten feet further on we came to a door. Arthur withdrew a key and unlocked it. Inside, there was a hum of computer equipment and the temperature seemed a bit cooler than the rest of the house.
"Watch your step," said Arthur pointing. "Floor’s raised."
I stepped up and onto the white-tiled flooring. Green and yellow lights blinked on and off across the room. Arthur flipped the light switch.
Rows of computers lined the room. Probably twenty in all. I whistled. Arthur nodded.
"Heart and soul of the Council’s information network. Updates, news, intelligence-it all comes in through here. This is the origin of your assignments. Dossiers on almost every member of our society are stored here as well. All in all, rather impressive, wouldn’t you say?"
"Very." I walked around the terminals. "They have offsite storage as well?"
"Yeah. Don’t know where. Probably manned by some Loyalists."
I nodded. Loyalists were the very few humans who knew about our existence. For reason I didn’t know much about, they agreed to work for us. I know some of them died a few months back, victims of my old enemy of Cosgrove. I wondered how many were left.
I pointed at one of the terminals. "So, how do we do this?"
"‘We’?" Arthur grinned. "My dear boy, you are very much on your own for this part of your mission. I shall simply point you in the right direction. That computer, over there is what you are looking for." He twirled the key. "I can give you ten minutes to find what you need and then I’ll be back to lock up. Any longer than that in here and automatic video surveillance gets triggered."
"Why only after ten minutes?"
Arthur shrugged. "I check the room throughout the night. Guess they got tired of seeing me pop onto the screen." He turned and walked out.
The computer he’d pointed me to looked more like an old 286 PC than the rest of the top-of-the-line models on the floor. Its luminescent green monitor came to life when I hit the enter button. A small cursor blinked at the left of the screen.