by J. S. Morin
“DO YOU?”
“Yes, but—”
“Grab your purse,” I snapped, reaching for her hand.
Clara snatched up the quirky pink purse from the seat beside her and took the offered hand.
She barely had time to gasp as I fled with her into the shadowy realm of the Boston night.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
I slipped and slithered at breakneck speed through the dark corners of the diner, through the kitchen, and under the door that led out to the alley out back.
With the possibility of a few seconds to spare, I rematerialized, still holding Clara by the hand.
She blinked and wobbled on her feet, blowing a breath like a steam engine in the chilly air. “Where—?”
“Behind the diner,” I answered instantly. “Listen, we don’t have much time. Those guys are probably going to keep me if they catch me. You have a choice: stick with me, or run and don’t look back.”
Clara looked down at our clasped hands. Hers tightened. “I don’t want to be alone out here.”
I swallowed. “Sorry. Helluva first date, huh?”
Someone shouted in Chinese. “There he is.” I doubted the words needed translating for Clara’s benefit.
My date tugged urgently. “Let’s… let’s go!”
Without needing to be told twice, I wrenched us back into the deeper district of the night, the dark that even the owls couldn’t see. Reality smudged as Clara and I tore past, hand in hand, dodging like a hare caught by hunting dogs.
My father’s men came in hot pursuit.
None of the shadowbloods on our tail was clearly visible throughout the surreal chase. They were afterimages, cartoonish blurs that had distance and speed but no strict shape.
I ran us down tunnels and through sewers, up the sides of buildings and along the undersides of bridges. Always the sensation of the chase persisted, even when all I had to go by was the feel of someone coming without catching so much as a glimpse.
“They can keep this up all night,” my shadow warned. “They’re not the fools that your nemesis and his friends are.”
It was right.
No matter where I ran, my father’s dogged hunters were never far behind. I dodged down back alleys and dove down subway lines in patterns that would have tied a local cabbie in knots.
I needed to think. There was no time to stop, but “running” wasn’t physical exertion in this case anyway. Letting the chase itself fade from the forefront of my mind, I plotted a strategy.
Time. Space. Distance.
Buying at least one of those factors was key.
I couldn’t outrun my father’s minions. After what Black-Hat had said about Kelly slowing me down, I doubted that I was keeping pace with Clara in tow. They were harrying me, hoping I’d run to ground and expose my allies.
There had to be a way I could trap my shadowblood adversaries. A vigilant would do the trick, but the only one I knew of was up in Maine and unlikely to do me any favors.
Arcanists could rig deadly traps even for the shadowblood, but I was no arcanist, and I didn’t have time for introductions. Not that I knew any to ask.
Light.
It didn’t take a vigilant’s countermagic or an arcanist’s runes to stop a shadowblood from jumping through shadows. All it took was a lack of shadow.
I veered down a side street, navigating with purpose in mind for the first time since leaving the diner.
One side benefit of being a delivery driver was that I kept track of local sporting events. A Celtics jersey or a Sox cap, worn on the right night, led to a noticeable uptick in tips. That was how I knew that the TD Garden was going to be empty that night. Neither the Bruins nor Celtics were in town.
With a firm destination in mind, I fled along a straight course. What Clara must have been thinking was beyond my imagining, but the shadowbloods on our tail hung back a constant distance and didn’t close in for a capture.
Why would they? For all they knew I was going to lead them to every troublemaker in town.
The doors to the Garden were closed but glazed in non-shadow-proof glass. I paused to check that our persistent friends had taken note of our entry, then flitted straight for center court.
Two Chinese shadowbloods tread every shadowy footstep I left behind.
I zipped through the building to a panel riddled with switches. Though it was only guesswork, I judged the timing was right that my father’s henchmen were crossing the parquet floors just then.
Pulling loose from Clara’s sweating, vice-grip hand, I swept my palms over the bank of switches, turning up every light in the house.
“Buh… whu… where?” Clara stammered.
I put my hands on her shoulders. “I just stranded the guys after us, but we gotta go. Now.”
She gave a weak, spasmodic nod and grabbed hold of my wrist.
The last thing I heard before we vanished into the shadows were distant, angry, colorful curses in Mandarin Chinese.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
We resumed corporeal form at the bottom of the stairwell at Pi On Third.
Clara was steadier on her feet than last time but still appeared dazed. She clung to my arm for support as the surroundings sank in.
“Phew. Where are we this time?” Clara asked.
“My hideout,” I admitted. “Just wanted you to catch your breath before we head in. You doing all right?”
I leaned around to look into her eyes. Since I wasn’t a doctor, I wasn’t quite sure what to check for, but I think most people can get a general sense for when someone’s at home in their head.
“Think so. Like riding Space Mountain on ecstasy,” Clara said. She put a pair of fingers to the side of her neck, took a few deep breaths, and gave a nod. “Reality’s seeping back in… what a rush.”
“OK, now. My friends are cool. Well, not cool, but nice. Maybe not today, since—never mind. Just… are you ready to meet people?” I asked.
Clara’s eyes traced a route up the square spiral stairs. “Yeah.”
After a steady breath or two, Clara took the hand I offered.
Whooshing through the shadowy, we slipped under the door and into the hideout.
Or not.
We rematerialized on the stairwell side of the door, and it hadn’t been my doing. “One sec.”
I tried again. We were repelled a second time.
“I’m starting to get used to this,” Clara observed.
“I’m not,” I grumbled.
Knocking on the door, I waited for someone to come let us in.
Clara brushed a lock of hair over her ear and licked her lips. When she glanced my way for approval, I grinned.
When the door opened, it was Tim on the other side.
“Hell’s wrong with the door?” I demanded. “I couldn’t get in.”
“You and every other shadowblood,” Tim said, casting a scowl at Clara. “While you were off trying to get your dick wet, we needed protection. In case you forgot, you were the security system.”
“Clara, this is Tim,” I said, making the introduction as I shouldered my way past a mountain of pissed-off programmer.
“Nice to meet you,” Clara said, following on my heels.
Kelly had thankfully paused in her sharpening of Simon’s decorative dagger. But when she saw Clara, her eyes gleamed. When no one else was looking, my shadowblood apprentice glanced from Clara to Judy. Catching my eye, Kelly made an obscene gesture with her fingers and tongue that warmed my cheeks.
“This is Kelly,” I said, continuing the introductions. “And at the computer, that’s Judy.”
“Hi,” Clara said shyly, holding up a hand just above waist level.
“Reggie’s downstairs. He owns the pizza shop we’re living over. Hey, anyone got a few slices left? Dinner got interrupted by Chinese shadowbloods.”
Blinking at the fact that I just slipped that into casual conversation, I wondered how my life had turned so far upside down since last week.
“O
h,” I added. “Why couldn’t I get in?”
The door thudded shut with the click of a latch. I saw the answer to my own question. Scratched into the wood was a rune circle. I wandered over as I stared, trying to puzzle through the rune construction and determine its effect.
“You weren’t here,” Judy accused from behind the screen of her laptop. “We needed to keep out anyone who might try to slip in under the door.”
It was a warding rune. No shadow could bypass it. A police battering ram wouldn’t knock it down.
The center of the rune was blank. “Which one of you discovered your rune?” I asked.
Tim’s arm extended like the beam of a gallows. “Her, of course.” He was pointing at Judy.
“Your friend’s a wizard?” Clara asked in a whisper.
I didn’t have time to answer before Judy’s barrage began. She pointed one by one around the room.
“Matt, you’ve known Kelly for years. You’ve known Tim as long as I have. Reggie’s practically your second family.” Judy pointed at the floor for Reggie, and then aimed a finger at herself. “We’ve known each other since high school. Her, you met this morning.”
“Security fail,” Tim added.
“Take the battery out of her cell phone,” Judy ordered. “She can’t leave here until this is all resolved.”
“You guys are overreacting,” I said, interposing myself between Clara and the rest of the group. “I got Clara into this mess. That’s on me. I brought her here for protection, not to become a suspect.”
“Maybe you should think first,” Tim said. “Or ask us. Or anything but listening to the voices in your head and your own dysfunctional conscience.”
I turned to give Clara a weak smile. “It’ll be OK. Lemme show you around.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
I left Clara at the hideout after we slept the morning hours away. We’d spent the night in my little nook of a conference room on an air mattress, both fully clothed. Despite Tim’s crude commentary and Kelly’s lewd suggestions, nothing had happened between us.
Clara had my laptop and a beta copy of Incredible Realms to keep her amused while I was away. Despite the circumstances, her spirits seemed high, and if I played my cards right, I figured I might have a real shot with her.
Judy was there to protect Clara, which was odd to even consider. No one had been in a sociable mood last night, but Judy had clearly figured out a way to get some basic arcane runes working. What her personal rune was, she hadn’t let on. Like arcanists from the show and books, she’d kept it separate from her rune carvings. Somewhere she had to have carved it into an object to place against any rune she wanted to activate.
Tim was just gone.
According to Judy, he left mid-morning on a supply run. She wouldn’t say for what.
That only left Kelly, and Kelly was with me.
Our rendezvous with the Black-Hatted Stranger was in a little over six hours. We had time, but going in unprepared sounded like suicide. This was our supply run. Unlike Tim, we could take care of ourselves out on the streets.
Those streets were eerily quiet.
A few pedestrians scuttled around, and an occasional car blew past at well over the speed limit. But this wasn’t the congested city I knew.
Kelly and I were on foot, resolved to stay flexible in our mode of transport. While I was content to stick to business, Kelly seemed to want to talk about anything that got her mind off Simon.
“So,” she said as we exited a pharmacy with her wearing a new pair of $10 sunglasses. “That Clara… bit of a resemblance, huh?”
“She’s nothing like Judy,” I countered. The fall colors were muted from behind my own shades. If only I could have justified earmuffs as combat essential.
Kelly snickered. “I bet in the dark, you couldn’t even tell them apart by feel. Not that you’d know what Judy felt like under those baggy t-shirts she loves.”
“Shows what you know,” I argued, wanting to score a point more than I wanted to think about what I was saying. Smooth.
Kelly sped her pace to get in front of me, walking backward a few steps so I’d be face-to-face with her. “Wait. You did it with Judy?” The accompanying grin was voyeuristic. “What’s she like?”
“Forget I said anything.”
“C’mon… It’s not like I can ask Tim,” Kelly argued. “I always imagined Little Miss Computer would be sort of analytical, like talking the whole time, giving directions and using medical terminology and shit.”
“You didn’t hear her and Tim last night?” I sure had. Two rooms over and there was no mistaking them. Between being naturally more awake in the dark hours and Clara curled up beside me, it had been a wonder I managed to fall asleep before dawn.
“Nah. Three beers and noise-canceling headphones. Maybe tonight I’ll stay up and listen. Assuming Tim makes it back alive.”
“Assuming we make it back alive,” I reminded her. “He’s probably off picking out a couch or a fridge for the hideout. We’re the ones dealing with killers tonight.”
“If we survive and he doesn’t, how offended would you be if I consoled Judy?” Kelly asked with a giggle. She was starting to get a little creepy.
An armored personnel carrier rumbled past us down the street, saving me from that path of conversation. “That video really spooked people, huh?”
The Internet was on fire with grainy news footage of a hydock mauling. It was one thing when obscure monsters from Shadowblood showed up on the streets or in the skies. People dismissed them or called them hoaxes. When bodies showed up at hospital morgues, and people could name the creatures from the TV show they watched, suddenly the hoaxes didn’t seem quite so staged.
Mysterious murders were a matter for the cops, either local or federal. Zoo animals turning into fictional monsters and escaping? That was worth calling in the National Guard.
“We see anything fucked up, just remember not to shadow-jump without me,” Kelly warned. Despite a seemingly natural affinity for her dark side, the crime scene cleaner still couldn’t shadow-jump on her own.
The itch to get off the streets was nagging at both of us. But our discomfort was about more than keeping out of the path of roaming monsters. We needed practical clothes for skulking the city by night.
This was the first time I could remember clothes shopping with any woman I wasn’t either dating, related to, or quietly obsessed over since high school.
Halloween MegaDepot was one of those seasonal stores that cropped up on a rotating basis just long enough to cash in on the rush, empty its inventory on clearance the week after, and disappear for another year. In a month, there’d be a Christmas MegaDepot or something in its place. For now, we had it all to ourselves. I hardly knew where to begin.
We passed racks of costumes on hangars as if they were regular everyday clothes, even down to being sorted by size. Pegboards held row after row of masks dangling from hooks. A whole section was devoted to kids’ costumes, and a less conspicuous area in the back touted “adult” costumes.
I let Kelly take the lead, since she showed every indication of knowing her way around the place.
“What are you thinking?” I asked as she dodged among the racks.
Kelly replied without looking back at me. “I’m thinking we’re going to look like Halloween characters anyway. Might as well float with it. Be on the lookout for dark and menacing.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard,” I replied as a werewolf mask caught my eye. “Might be harder to find something that can be taken seriously.”
I caught up with Kelly as she was holding up the hem of a vampire cape. “Too bad about the red lining. How’d you think a vampire would fare against a shadowblood, you know, both being creatures of the night?”
“We’d fuck one up,” I replied without hesitation. Kelly obviously didn’t read the Shadowblood forums, where the question had been beaten to death. “Best case they’d try to mesmerize us. So long as you don’t look one in the eye, the vampire is
screwed.”
“What if it snuck up on us?”
“What, under cover of daylight? At night it wouldn’t get within arm’s reach before we noticed it. If vampires existed in the same universe, we’d carry stakes and garlic and vampires would run when they caught a sniff of us.”
Kelly shrugged and let go of the cape. “Still, too bad about the lining.”
Something black caught my eye, almost by omission. There among the sickly green zombie hair and fluorescent red of psychotic clown was a gap in color. I grabbed a ninja mask and pulled it on. The thing smelled of stale warehouse, but that would go away after a while. “What do you think?”
“Betraying your cultural heritage?” Kelly asked.
“Fuck that. Ninjas are cool as hell. Um, the cold part of hell.” I found a second mask and tossed it her way.
Kelly struggled getting hers on as it matted down her pigtails. But once she had tugged it into place all I could see was a patch from the bridge of her nose to just above her eyebrows. Tucking the arms of her sunglasses inside the mask as she donned them, her skin was almost completely covered. I did likewise with mine, and we found a mirror.
“This can work,” she said.
We poked around a while but couldn’t find anything that fit the bill for both function and style. Generally speaking, Halloween costumes were impractical, especially ones intended for women.
Outside, the streets were growing dark. We weren’t in a rush, since sunset was well before our 10 o’clock engagement, but it reminded us that time was ticking.
At the cash register, I paid with a hundred, and the cashier used one of those invisible markers and held it up to the light. The incongruity of worrying over counterfeit cash when the National Guard was pulling animal control duty made me snicker.
“You could just tell her that it’s blood money from the Chinese cabal. It might set her mind at ease, knowing that it’s honest American currency. All the most disreputable sorts use it exclusively these days.”
We hit the streets with a garish orange shopping bag for our troubles. “Not to dump this on you, but how you fixed for shopping?” I asked. “My funds are running low. Who knew bribes and supplies were so expensive?”