Cloak Games: Tomb Howl

by Jonathan Moeller

  I would be an even better thief now, thanks to my augmented abilities.

  Sadly, despite my efforts, I didn’t sleep well during those two days. For one, on the first night, someone had a loud and drunken argument right outside the door of my apartment. For another, every time something woke me up I jumped to my feet, ready to call fire and lightning and ice to kill the anthrophages and the wraithwolves that had hunted me through the Eternity Crucible. I didn’t lose it and start blasting holes in the wall, though to be honest, the apartment building was such a dump that setting it on fire would have been an improvement.

  But at least I kept myself under control.

  For another, I was dreading the confrontation. I did not want to walk alone into a Rebel base, and I did not want to see Nicholas Connor again. Seeing an ex-boyfriend was bad enough. Seeing an ex-boyfriend who had turned out to be a terrorist mastermind was even worse.

  So, by the time my appointment rolled around, I was tired, cranky, and wound up.

  Still, I had held it together. I hadn’t been caught, and I hadn’t lost it and blown up the building or done anything stupid. I was kind of proud of that.

  I dithered for a bit about what to wear. I mean, I didn’t want to dress up, since that might give Nicholas the wrong idea. I didn’t want to look like a slob either since that would look weak and the Rebels would not respond well to weakness.

  Also, I was so cold. It was eighty degrees and muggy, and it was supposed to get up to a hundred degrees today, and I still felt cold all the time. I wondered if I had suffered nerve damage or something when I had escaped from the Eternity Crucible.

  I finally settled on a gray sweater, black jeans, black running shoes, and a black naval-style pea coat than fell to my knees. The coat was a little too big for me, but that was all right because it gave me room to hide a revolver in a shoulder holster under my left arm. I didn’t actually need the gun. With my magic, I could kill far more quickly, but I knew better than to rely completely on it. For that reason, I also took along a small bundle of lockpicks and a few other tools that might prove useful if I couldn’t use my spells.

  I didn’t bother to bring a phone. If I got into trouble, there was no one I could call to rescue me.

  Time to get this over with.

  I Masked myself as Travis McHale and left the apartment building, making sure the Mask’s expression looked sullen and truculent. I walked the mile or so to Nicholas’s container yard, joining the stream of men on their way to work at the various shipping facilities and industrial sites. A third of the way there, I ducked into an alley and changed my Mask, taking the appearance of another man. I didn’t want Nicholas and his goons to have any link between “Travis McHale” and me if I could avoid it.

  It was hot out, and so muggy the air felt like a sauna. Yet I was still a little cold, and I didn’t sweat under my sweater and heavy coat.

  The street outside the container yard was deserted. Before I came within sight of the cameras, I dropped my Masking spell and walked the rest of the way to the gate without any illusionary disguises.

  The men in the security booth stared at me as I approached. There were three of them, led by the middle-aged man I had seen earlier. All three wore dark jumpsuits that looked vaguely military and had holstered pistols at their belts.

  I stopped before the gate and waited, whistling to myself. After a moment, the middle-aged man emerged from the booth and headed towards me. He looked like he was in good shape, with the thick build of someone who had spent a lot of time lifting weights. There were old scars on his hands and face, and he had the flat, cold eyes of a reptile. A nameplate on the left side of his chest read SUPERVISOR SWATHE.

  “You lost, miss?” said Swathe in a flat voice. “This isn’t the safest neighborhood.”

  “Nope,” I said. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

  “And why is that?” said Swathe.

  “I’ve got an appointment to see your boss,” I said.

  “Really,” said Swathe.

  “My name is Katrina Stoker,” I said. “I’m here to meet with your boss, Nicholas Connor, who I believe is a major figure among the Rebels.”

  Swathe said nothing, but the dead eyes flashed.

  I gave him a sunny smile. “I’m a subcontractor.”

  Swathe stared at me without smiling, his eyes and face giving away nothing. That could be a problem. First impressions aren’t always accurate, but he had the eyes of a killer, and I wondered if he was planning to shoot me. I reached for my power and held it ready to cast a spell. If he tried to kill me or even hurt me, he was going to regret it.

  At last, Swathe made a sharp gesture, and the two other men came out of the booth. Both were young and grim-looking, and drew pistols from their sides and leveled their weapons at me.

  I grinned at them.

  “Wait here,” said Swathe. “I need to make a phone call. If she moves, shoot her.”

  “That’s just impolite,” I said. “Bet you guys don’t get a lot of visitors.”

  “Who should I say sent you?” said Swathe.

  “Tell Nicholas,” I said, “that the Forerunner sent me.”

  Swathe blinked. Clearly he knew who that was. The younger men only looked confused.

  “Watch her,” snapped Swathe, and he disappeared back into the booth.

  I watched him go and then turned my attention to the younger men.

  “So,” I said. “Been with the Rebels long? Bet it doesn’t pay very well.”

  “Don’t talk,” snapped the guard on the left.

  “That’s rude,” I said.

  He glared at me, and I grinned again. That seemed to annoy him. I bet he wasn’t used to people reacting like this when he pointed guns at them.

  “Why don’t you…” he started to say.

  “Shut up,” said the guard on the right, who seemed more placid. “Let the boss deal with her.”

  We waited in tense silence. I saw Swathe talking into a landline phone in the booth, though I couldn’t hear what he was saying. Then he straightened up, and his shoulders shook once like he was laughing.

  Then he hung up the phone and stepped out of the booth.

  “Take off your clothes,” he said.

  “What?” I said.

  Both younger guards smiled.

  “I said,” said Swathe, producing a stun gun and pointing it at me, “to take off all your clothes, now.

  “What, you’re not even going to buy me dinner first?” I said. “Old men are in such a hurry.”

  A muscle jerked in his jaw. He hadn’t liked that insult. “You’re to be strip-searched. Now take off your clothes, or we’ll do it for you.”

  A wave of unease went through me, and then anger. Nicholas wanted to push me around, did he? Well, it was time to draw some lines. Morvilind had told me to steal three things for the Forerunner, and the Forerunner had told me to steal those things for Nicholas. Neither man had said that I couldn’t mess with Nicholas’s employees to my heart’s content.

  And I really, really wanted to ruin someone’s day.

  I could have killed all three of them without much effort, but I didn’t. I still had some remnant of conscience in me, even after the Eternity Crucible. Also, if I started killing his goons, Nicholas might get his back up and tell the Forerunner, and that would break the Forerunner’s deal with Morvilind.

  “Okay,” I said. “So, you want me to take off my clothes? Should I do a little dance? Maybe put on some high heels first?”

  The calmer young guard laughed. Swathe and the other man glared at him.

  “Enough,” said Swathe. “Last chance, Miss Stoker. Either you do it, or we…”

  “Well, what does your boss think?” I said, craning my neck to look over their shoulders. “Hey, Nicholas? What do you think?”

  They fell for it. They actually fell for it. They glanced back for a second, and that was all I needed to cast the Cloak spell. As soon as I was Cloaked, I circled towards the central warehouse
, just in case they went berserk and started shooting at random.

  They didn’t start shooting when they turned around. Their reaction was still pretty funny. Swathe’s eyes went wide, and his head jerked back and forth as he tried to find me. Both the younger guards took a step back, shifting their guns to two-handed grips.

  “What the hell?” said the more excitable younger guard. “Where the hell did she go?”

  “She just disappeared,” said the calmer guard. “She ran.”

  “Where?” said Swathe. “She couldn’t have run fast enough to get out the gate or to make it to the nearest container stack. You check the camera footage. I'm calling for a security alert.”

  Still holding the Cloak spell, I headed for the warehouse. Once they looked at the footage and realized I had in fact disappeared, they would panic and call Nicholas. I suppose the proof that I could cast a Cloak spell would confirm that the Forerunner had indeed sent me.

  Which meant that it was time for me to have a chat with Nicholas.

  Yeah. That was going to be fun.

  I strode towards the warehouse.

  Chapter 6: Ex-Boyfriend

  An alarm started hooting as I walked towards the warehouse.

  Swathe had called in his security alert, and from the front doors of the warehouse, I saw a dozen men in similar jumpsuits run out, clad in riot gear and carrying AK-47s. I stepped to the side to let them pass, and they rushed right past me.

  The Cloak spell was a useful thing.

  Still, I would need to get inside soon. I couldn’t hold the Cloak spell in place while moving around for more than nine or ten minutes, and I couldn’t cast any other spells while Cloaked. Once I found Nicholas, I could lay down some ground rules, push back when he tried to push me (because he would push), and then we could get down to business.

  On the other hand, maybe I had pushed Nicholas too far already. Maybe he would have to kill me to save face in front of his men. I kind of doubted it, though. If he needed someone who could cast the Cloaking spell, there weren’t many options available. Still, if he did try to kill me, I could claim self-defense, and maybe that would make the Forerunner’s deal with Morvilind collapse. After all, I could hardly be blamed for defending myself, and it wouldn’t be my fault if Nicholas was crazy enough to attack the thief the Forerunner had procured for him.

  I walked around the side of the warehouse and came to a row of a dozen truck docks. Most of them had semis parked in them, but one of the docks was empty, and I hopped up and stepped into a cavernous warehouse room. An alarm hooted in the background, and workers in gray coveralls with nametags scrambled toward the walls. I supposed they had designated stations they were supposed to take in the event of a security alert. There were orderly stacks of wooden crates everywhere, with black-painted numbers on the side. I crossed to the far wall and spotted a door with a wire-reinforced window. Behind the window was a corridor leading into an office area, and a dozen men in security uniforms ran down the corridor, AK-47s in hand.

  I stepped against the wall as the door opened and the security guards jogged into the warehouse area. After the last man had passed, I slipped through the door before it closed behind me. The hallway looked like a typical office block, with the doors on either side leading to either conference rooms or cubicle-filled offices. I wondered if even the Rebels needed someone to cut paychecks and keep records, though if Nicholas was running a front business here, he would need someone to actually do the work.

  There was a security camera in a black plastic dome in the center of the ceiling, but it was pointing at the door to the warehouse area. I ducked through a door and into a conference room with a long, polished table, cushy chairs, and a projector hanging from the ceiling. I stepped against the wall and dropped my Cloak spell, breathing hard as I caught my breath. I could move around while Cloaked, but it wasn’t easy. There wasn’t a security camera in here so it was safe to take a minute to recover. If I heard someone coming in, it would be easy to Cloak, but I didn’t think that would happen. The security guards likely had swept the conference room already on their way to the warehouse area.

  A building directory on the wall caught my attention. I moved closer and looked it over. It seemed the office block of the warehouse had four floors. On the top floor, a big room labeled “Director’s Office” took up most of the space.

  Yeah. That’s where Nicholas would be.

  I grimaced and took one more deep breath. Then I recast the Cloak spell and stepped into the corridor. I found the stairs and climbed to the top floor. Beyond the stairs, I strode into a richly appointed waiting area, with overstuffed chairs, polished wooden end tables, and tasteful recessed lighting. An unoccupied receptionist’s desk sat against the far wall, and behind the receptionist’s desk stood an open door leading to the Director’s Office.

  I stepped through the door and into the office of Nicholas Connor.

  The wide windows offered a good view of Lake Michigan and the freighters making their way across the water. Bookshelves filled the walls between the windows, and with a shock, I recognized many of the books. I had seen those exact books with Nicholas back in Los Angeles – books about or written by pre-Conquest communist dictators, for the most part. More books were stacked on the floor, both old books on political theory and books in Elven hieroglyphs that discussed various aspects of magic. A worktable against one wall held a variety of guns and half-assembled tools, and a computer desk with a pair of monitors dominated the center of the room.

  Nicholas Connor sat behind the desk, frowning as he scrutinized a map of Illinois on one of the screens.

  He hadn’t changed at all in the three years since I had met him. He was in his early thirties, tall and strong, with thick black hair and deep blue eyes. He wore a pair of gray dress slacks and a blue button-down shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to expose his muscular forearms, and the shirt opened to the third button, showing his chest. Both arms and chest looked good, and he was sweating a little, even with the air conditioning on. He had a strong body, a brilliant mind…and a black hole where his heart should have been.

  A jolt of emotions went through me, most of them bad. He had planned to commit mass murder and pin it on me and based on what I had learned in Venomhold, he had done worse things since. But, God, he looked good. And he had felt good. Our nights together had been some of the most pleasurable experiences in my life.

  And it had been a long, long time since anyone had touched me. Well, anyone human. Getting killed by wraithwolves and bloodrats every day for a century and a half didn’t count. I remembered what it had felt like for him to kiss me, or for him to peel off all my clothes and throw me down on the bed.

  I grimaced. The Eternity Crucible had indeed broken me if I was fantasizing about Nicholas freaking Connor, would be mass-murderer and Rebel warlord.

  A phone rang on the desk. Nicholas picked up the handset. “Yes?”

  I heard Swathe’s harsh voice, though I couldn’t make out the words.

  “Keep looking,” said Nicholas, “but I suspect she is the wizard that the Forerunner promised to find for us.” He listened for a moment. “Yes, I’m as surprised as you are. I expected an outlaw Elf or maybe an Archon, not a human girl. Though I suppose it’s possible that her appearance was an illusion. Don’t shoot her if she appears, but bring her to me.” Swathe talked for a while. “I understand that. Keep looking.”

  Nicholas hung up the phone and glared at the wall for a moment, drumming his fingers against the desk.

  I braced myself, moved out of his line of site, and dropped my Cloak spell.

  “Hello, Nicholas,” I said, holding my magic ready to strike. “Talking about me behind my back? Petty.”

  I wasn’t sure how he would react. Would he panic and attack me? Call for the guards? Rage at me because I had ruined his plans in Los Angeles?

  He did none of those things.

  Instead, he turned his chair, leaned back, and stared at me for a moment.

 
I stared back.

  Slowly, the left side of his mouth turned up in a smile, but his eyes were cold.

  “You look like you’ve had a rough time lately,” Nicholas said.

  “Nope,” I said. “It’s been all peaches and sunshine and roses.”

  The lazy smile didn’t waver. “And you’re making smart remarks. That means you’re frightened. Why would you be frightened, Kat?”

  Annoyingly, he was right. He knew me well enough to realize that my mouth ran away with itself when I was scared.

  “I’m afraid some of your stupid will wear off on me,” I said.

  “Could you be frightened,” said Nicholas, getting to his feet with lazy strength, “because the last time we met you betrayed me, ruined an intricate operation, and cost me tens of thousands of dollars and the lives of some very capable personnel?”

  “Maybe you should be frightened, Nicky,” I said. His eyes narrowed for just an instant. He hated nicknames. “Because the last time we met, you planned to murder a hundred thousand people and blame me for it.”

  “I planned to assassinate Duke Wraithmyr and rid mankind of one of its oppressors,” said Nicholas. “You sided with our oppressors, Kat.”

  He took a step towards me. He was a lot taller than me. It was one of the things I had found attractive about him. He was bigger than me, and he was strong enough that he could probably lift me over his head without much effort.

  Then again, I could blast a hole through his chest if I wanted.

  “That particular oppressor,” I said, “wasn’t going to murder a hundred thousand people.”

  “Those people would have been martyrs in the cause of humanity’s freedom from the Elven oppressor class,” said Nicholas.

  “Good God,” I said. “Are you eating your own bullshit now?”

  He took another step closer. “I don’t approve of disloyalty.”

  “Well, lucky for me I’m not loyal to you and don’t care about your approval,” I said.

  “Then what do you care about?” he said, stepping closer. I began focusing my magic into a spell.