In an old space like this, the building practically had a life of its own, its creaks and moans sounding out as I worked my way down the aisles of accumulated bric-a-brac. My mind was barely able to take it all in as my eyes darted from object to object. All of it was distracting to the point that I didn’t notice the sounds of the space growing all around me until it was almost too late.
I turned to find pieces dragging or flying of their own volition from the side of the aisle into the center of the pathway, drawing together as the formed a vaguely humanoid shape that towered over me at twice my height. It shambled in a herky-jerky fashion toward me, closing, but I was already reaching into the interior of my coat for my alchemical mixes.
Since wooden boxes and chunks of handcrafted metal items made up a good portion of the creature, I pulled a vial, unstoppered it, and threw it to the ground beneath the lumbering figure. Flames erupted from the pool of liquid as it spread out, bits and pieces of the monster catching fire. The wood items within it crackled, popped and hissed as the flames consumed them, but above all those sounds stood another.
Screaming.
At first the creature itself seemed to be crying out in pain, filling me with a terror I didn’t know I could experience, but a moment later I realized the sound came from somewhere off behind it.
The aisle behind me was rapidly running out, the contents of the space dead-ending up against the wall. And I had a bigger problem. Although much of the creature was burning, it was still coming for me. Great. I had turned my deadly enemy into a deadly flaming enemy. I need out of this dead end, and quick.
Quick.
I could do quick, I thought to myself, pulling a vial marked The Flash out of one of the bandoliers lining my coat, downing its contents. The taste was wretched, but the effects of the alchemy were instantaneous. Feeling like I had just drained a keg of Red Bull, my body shivered and twitched as the building speed grew in me, waiting for me to rush into action. It didn’t have to wait long.
Although my speed might be able to get me through the flames beneath the creature, I was just vain enough that I didn’t want to chance it, not to mention that I had no idea how the contents lining my jacket would react to the heat either. Instead, I headed to the left side of the aisle and started up the pile of collected goods there. The alchemical speed boost made it almost impossible to keep up, my hands and feet barely able to get under me as I went. It didn’t help that much of the accumulated mass was already tumbling away, but I kept at my personal retreat, making progress despite everything that was happening.
The flames of the creature died down as its wooden parts charred and fell away, only to be replaced by heartier, metal pieces drawing in from around the warehouse. Much of the aisle was on fire as well then, but my climb took me further away from it, and as I angled past the side of the creature, my eyes caught movement just beyond it.
The short, lone figure of a man probably in his late fifties stood about twenty feet behind the creature.
Wade Barlow.
One of Barlow’s hands adorned with glowing rings stretched out from him as he held control over the creature while the other hand frantically patted his robe down as if it were engulfed in flames himself, indicating some kind of sympathy magic. The robe wasn’t a wizard’s one in any sense, but more of a long, dark bathrobe as if I had disturbed his slumber. From the pained expression on his face, the scream had been his, no doubt in reaction to whatever connection he held with the makeshift monster. By his feet, the wrinkliest dog I’d ever seen sat plopped down on the floor watching the action. At least, I thought it did. It was hard to tell where its damn eyes were through all the folds of Grayson’s furry skin.
I had to laugh. The idea of doing battle with a little Napoleon looking fellow while he was in his pajamas and bathrobe struck me as absurd, more so with the ho-hum attitude of the dog at his side.
And as often was the case, my ability to laugh danger in the face wasn’t the smartest choice. With my concentration split between escape and my newly revealed enemy, the enhanced speed at my disposal became my undoing. I stumbled on one of the boxes below my feet and it slid down the mountain of accumulation to the floor below. Gravity in all its harshness tumbled me after them. I braced myself for impact with the floor, but instead found myself dangling upside down midair.
A jumble of twisted metal stuck out from the cobbled together creature as it held me with its “fists” wrapped around one of my ankles. With my face inches from slamming into jagged shards of broken wood, I allowed myself to breath out a sigh of relief. It was only momentary, though. I was still in trouble dangling there.
As the monster lifted me, every scrape, cut, and bruise from my tumble cried out in pain. The creature set about flipping me right side up, but not before I managed to pull a vial marked Wolvie free from inside my coat, downing it. My body screamed with an even greater pain, this time as the cuts sealed themselves and my bruises faded away. By the time I was turned right side up, the healing had stopped, the bruises and cuts still far too unhealed for my liking.
Not that it would matter all that much longer. Already the now all metal creature had coiled a snakelike piece of itself around me, securing me in place.
“Quite the collection you have here,” I said, hoping to draw his focus to my face as I struggled to free my hands.
“Glad to hear you at least understand the concept of ownership in your statement,” he said with contempt, then smiled. “And thank you.”
“Ownership is such a strong word,” I said. “Let’s just say ‘currently in possession of’. Forgive me if I am suspect about the dubious manner in which you procured all these things.”
The man’s face turned red, as much shocked as angry. “You break into my home and dare accuse me of being the thief here?”
I met his eyes, then looked down at his feet at Grayson. “Nice dog,” I said. “I don’t think Rennie loaned him to you, though.”
The man smiled and patted the dog before going over to a full length mirror among his stash of objects. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, which looked darker and thicker than it had just minutes ago.
“Younger by the hour,” he said with a smile, then looked over to me as his face returned to serious. “Here about the dog, are you?”
“If you give him back, I’ll go easy on you,” I said with as much bravado as I could muster for a guy currently bound by an arcane junk monster. “Rennie was giving me shit about being paranoid, but apparently I wasn’t paranoid enough.”
“Funny,” he said, crossing to me, the dog staying where he lay. “I won him, fair and square.”
“That seems a debatable point, Mr. Barlow. According to my sources, anyway.”
“You know my name, but I do not know yours.” He gestured to the metal monster and it brought me closer to him. He pulled my wallet out of the back pocket of my jeans and flipped through it. “Caleb Kennedy.” He looked up at me. “Do I know you Mr. Kennedy?”
“Doubtful,” I said. “I try to avoid coming out to the boroughs if I can help it.”
“Good. Then it’s unlikely anyone will come running to save you.”
“Don’t worry.” I strained against my bonds. “I’m pretty good at saving myself.”
“Really, now?” he asked with an incredulous chuckle. “And how is that working out for you exactly?”
I wanted to punch him for the chuckle alone if I could get a hand free, and then I’d go for the bandoliers that lined my coat to really mess him up. Sadly, however, the bonds were unrelenting. What I needed was to keep him talking long enough to work my way out of this binding.
I looked off to the flames that still flickered among the crates on either side of us. “Doesn’t really matter,” I said, “as it seems we’re both going to burn to death here.”
A ring on his left hand increased its glow to a bright eldritch green. The sound of crackling flames stopped, even though I could still see the fire, only now it seemed to be lic
king at curved invisible walls that contained it. So much for that avenue of conversation.
“Stealing a man’s dog,” I said, changing conversational course as my left hand came free enough that I thought I might be able to reach up my coat sleeve. “Who does that? That’s low, even among our kind.”
“Our kind,” he repeated. “I think there is very much a difference between you and I.”
“I hope so,” I said in agreement. “For one, I don’t steal dogs.”
“We are different, Mr. Kennedy. Make no mistake about it. There is a new world order in the making here, and I intend to be on the right side of it.”
“And what side is that?” I asked.
“Why the winning side, of course!” he said, holding his arms out to both sides of him, gesturing to everything scattered around us. “Or do you think I gathered my collection here to start a museum?”
I tried to shrug, which helped free my hand just a little bit more. “It would be a nice gesture,” I said.
“Don’t be so naïve. This truce out there among the covens isn’t going to last forever. It’s going to be a bloodbath, even if I have to instigate said bloodbath myself. Soon the average, everyday people of New York will learn of us, and while their kind tends to destroy first and ask questions later, I am making sure that humanity learns to respect us, through fear in necessary.”
“Wow,” I said. “Doomsday prepper much?”
My wrist cried out in pain as I bent it past its limit to force my hand up my sleeve, and the tips of my fingers found purchase only on the stopper of the vial there. Hopefully that would be enough. This wasn’t a concoction I needed to ingest. All I needed was to get the damn thing open, keep this guy distracted, and let the vial’s contents do their work.
I twisted the stopper, my grip barely holding, but it was enough. The lid swung back on its hinge and I pulled my hand away from it as quick as I could. A drop hit my skin, and the alchemical sizzle of my burning flesh had me biting the inside of my cheek to hide my pain. Hopefully the contents of the vial would drip down and do their work before Barlow could notice.
“If there’s ever an arcane episode of Hoarders, I’m sure you’re the first person they’re going to call,” I said. “That’s about as far as I see your madman fame and power rising.”
“What can I say, I’m a collector. I like accumulating things. Your bones from your flesh, for instance, will be a welcome addition.”
“To what end?” I asked with a laugh to hide my nerves at the thought of being deboned alive. “We’ve lived with our arcane secrets for centuries, and you want to start a mystical holy war with the rest of humanity now? The only thing you’re collecting here is more and more crazy.”
“We will see how humanity reacts when we reveal ourselves. I would prefer to be heavily armed in that battle. How prepared are you, Mr. Kennedy?”
“I prefer to travel light,” I said, wondering about the progress of the alchemical concoction in freeing me. Oh lord, did I want to put the hurt on this meat bag of insanity. “Partly because I’m trying to get in touch with my inner Buddha, but mostly because the life of a freelance alchemist is an expensive one.”
“Is it?” he asked, making me happy that his curiosity seemed piqued.
I nodded. “Supplies—mortars, pestles, a lab set up that would put Walter White to shame…it adds up.”
“Walter White?” He cocked his head at me. “Is he another wizard?”
“Something like that…”
A strong, corrosive smell rose from below me, and before I could worry if Barlow smelled it too, metal beneath me gave way and I fell, hitting the floor hard but managing to keep standing. I scrambled back away from the creature and Barlow as I went for another vial in my coat, pulling this new one free and holding it up triumphantly. I wasn’t sure what Barlow’s level of power was or if I stood a chance of taking him, but hopefully this vial would help even the odds.
“Nice try, asshat,” I said, bringing the metal vial toward my lips as I grasped it cap, only to have it knocked away when one of the metal arms of the creature swooped down to wrap itself back around me. The tiny metal tube flew through the air toward the man before clattering to the floor and rolling off between his legs. Rennie’s dog, who had proven a useless lump so far, stood, and wobbled off after it in lumbering wrinkly dog chase.
“Nice try asshat indeed!” Wade said, shaking his head at me with an amused wild eyed smirk.
Grayson scooped up the vial in his mouth, then padded back to the foot of his new master, dropping back to the floor in a jiggling heap. Barlow bent and scooped the vial out of the dog’s mouth, turning it over to read the tape mark.
“DeLeon.” His eyes shifted over to me. “Well, well, well…hoping to fortify yourself, were you?”
I gave a nervous smile. “Why, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” I said with feigned innocence.
The wizard’s eyes widened as something dawned on him and he sprung to life, moving around the warehouse aisle gathering up my discarded vials from the fight. When he was done, he got in my face and held them up one by one, reading from the piece of tape on each one of them. “The Flash—from when you sped yourself up. Backdraft—that was your little fire spell, wasn’t it? Wolverine—I will assume that was what healed you, if I am to believe the movies and comics. Everything labelled for quick reference. And now: deLeon? The seeker of the fountain of youth?” He held up the vial, marveling at it. “Is this how you keep so healthy, so young?”
I kept my mouth shut, refusing to answer, waiting to see what he would do.
Barlow twisted off the cap before raising the vial up into the air. “Well then, what’s good for the goose…” he said, and downed it in triumph.
It was, however, a short lived triumph…one that had him clutching at his already swelling, blackening throat. As the man doubled forward onto the floor, the metal creature fell with him and I slipped out of it disassembling debris as it clattered to the floor all around me.
“What’s…happening?” Barlow managed to choke out between breaths.
“You think this is my first rodeo with people like you?” I asked, walking over to him. “I’m a gambler too. I like to play the odds.”
I rolled him over so I could look him in the eye.
“You know what the number one request I get from people looking me up for freelance work is?” I asked. “Other than love potions, which I simply don’t do…? I learned that lesson for a guy in Chicago, and trust me when I say that is one hundred percent creepy territory.”
The sound of flames rising once more crackled out as whatever force had been containing them lost its power while Barlow struggled on the floor.
“The biggest ask-for is people wanting me to make them young again.” I said, pulling out a larger vial. “Assholes like you think they get more than one go round. You know why I don’t do it though? Because it drives most people crazy. There’s always someone like you, looking to cheat death this way, and you with your ‘new world order’ crap…you’re the most dangerous kind.”
I unstoppered the vial and poured out its contents—dog treats. I laid them on the floor in front of Grayson and with his usual non-moving spark of excitement, he remained where he was, barely stretching his head forward to get the snacks.
“Help…me…” the man said, writhing on the floor now as the flames quickly started taking over the room.
“After you promised to flay me and ruin my city?” I leaned over him and picked up the empty vials, holding up the one marked deLeon. “I’m afraid not. Like I said, I get assholes like you all the time. This vial here? I had no intention of drinking it myself. Let’s just call it my failsafe against your kind. You’re in such a hurry to get young again and take over the world or some crazy ass scheme…you don’t even think. People like you can’t resist the bait of it, and if you’re desperate enough to come at me like this—threaten my life—then you deserve what you get. I want you to know, as you breathe your last, t
hat I don’t use this vial lightly. I really don’t. I’d never force it on a person…but if I’m in a predicament where they take it of their own volition? Their life is forfeit, simple as that. Your narcissistic quest for life is a singular, obsessive one, and it ends here. You don’t respect your own life or the lives of others.”
“You won’t leave me here to burn,” he croaked out with anger and desperation. “You’re…one of the ‘good guys,’ helping a friend out.”
I shook my head as I reached down and picked up the still unmoving Grayson. “I’m no hero,” I said, hefting him up. “I’m just helping an old friend, one who I made pay me, by the way. Some friend I am, right?”
“Save me,” he repeated, pleading and desperate.
“So you can come after me later?” I asked, starting for the doorway. “I think not, and I doubt me sparing you is going to give you a sudden change in ideology. I don’t need to keep looking over my shoulder for you. I’ve got enough paranoia in my life…which, I suppose, is why I carry that vial on me anyway.”
I waited for a response from Barlow, but none came, his silence quickly devoured by the rising roar of flames.
“C’mon, Grayson,” I said to the dog cradled in my arms. “Let’s get you home. Your master Rennie is a fuck up, but at least he’s not a megalomaniacal one.” I held him up and pushed the wrinkles on his face back until I could see his actual eyes for once. “You tell me if he starts acting that way, okay?”
Grayson licked my face in response, his tongue running over my cheek like wet sandpaper.
“Good enough,” I said, stepping out into the cool night air along the East River. “And maybe a little lesson in paranoia will help curb his gambling problem.” I held the empty deLeon vial up for a second before sliding it back into the lining of my jacket.
Maybe I was a fool thinking I could change Rennie from being who he was, but I knew dealing with him and cases like this only reinforced one thing in me—paranoia was my friend, a backup partner that kept me alive.
Streets of Shadows Page 24