by Ben Reeder
Dr. C shook his head as he examined Lucas closely. “I don’t care if you signed a binding contract in blood with three witnesses. There are rules about this kind of thing. We don’t take shortcuts in training. Ever. For any reason.”
“This wasn’t a shortcut in training, Dr. Corwin,” Lucas said. “It was the only way we could get out of there, and I think you’re missing the bigger picture here. The Yakuza are in New Essex for this Rending thing.”
“The Yakuza wouldn’t be able to do much, even if they did have a vested interest in the Rending,” Dr. C said. He lifted his right hand up to a point a few inches from Lucas’s forehead and made a tapping motion. “That should help you start to close off the Sight for now. It’ll take a few hours, but by morning, things should be at least close to normal. Just be careful. There might be side effects.”
“Side effess?” Lucas said, barely getting the second word out as he swayed in the chair. “Like wha’?” He blinked a few times, then his eyes closed and his head drooped forward.
“Like that,” Dr. C said, sounding a little surprised. He stood and turned to face me. “You were very, very lucky, Chance. The damage you did was minimal, and he’ll probably recover almost completely. But his control over his Sight will never be perfect.”
“I got control of mine just fine,” I said. “And Dulka did way more damage to me.”
“He’s not you, Chance,” Dr. C snapped. “His abilities are...marginal at best. Sidney considered training him, but the Council ended up deciding against it because it would have been too dangerous for him because his Talent was too weak. He’s supposed to be an almost normal kid. And he’ll never be a mage.”
I ground my teeth together and stepped in close to Dr. C. “Lucas is not weak. Next to him, I might be like the Hulk or some shit, but he’s more like Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee put together. He’s smart, like you, and he’s tough as fuck, and he’s got guts.” The room started to get blurry as I went on, and I wiped my eyes. My hand came away wet, and I had to stop for a second to get a handle on myself. “I wish I could be more like him and Wanda sometimes, sir. But the truth is, the more they hang around me, the more they start to be like me. So, yeah, I know what I did to him. Better than anyone, I know what that feels like. And if...if I could have thought of another way to get out of there, I would have done that instead. But you’re wrong about him being weak. Or normal. And Lucas is right, you’re missing the whole point here. This isn’t just the Yakuza, this is Clan Ryu.” Dr. Corwin stepped back at that, and the color drained from his face.
“Ryu...Dragon Clan...are you sure?”
“I saw the banner myself, and so did Lucas. And I understood enough Japanese from your memories to at least follow the conversation. Clan Ryu is here to throw in with Mammon. And there’s more. We know better who the Half-Caste Chylde is, and I know who Sammael and Berith are after.”
“Who?” Dr. C asked. My answer was cut short by a knock at the front door. “Who the Hell is that? It’s three in the morning.” He headed for the front door, and I heard voices in the foyer. A moment later, he led Vortigern in.
“Mr. Fortunato, what was so urg-” was all he got out before I decked him.
Chapter 12
~ The truth is complicated. ~ Malekarshndril, demon.
Hitting a lawyer was a strange experience. Deep down, I suspected I was supposed to feel bad about sucker punching him, but I just couldn’t make myself. I watched Vortigern slide across the wood floor of the library and the only thing that went through my mind was how my fist hurt.
“Chance, what the Hell are you doing?” Dr. Corwin asked.
“You asked who Sammael and Berith were after,” I said, stepping forward to grab the slimy shyster by his jacket. “I give you Kyle Vortigern. Father of the Half-Caste Chylde.”
Vortigern’s eyes went wide for a moment, then glowed red as they narrowed. His weight shifted and he thrust with his palms into my chest. It was my turn to slide across the floor on my ass, and I saw him start to run for the door. He didn’t make it more than two steps before Dr. C stepped forward and gestured with his right hand, sending him flying back against the wall. I came to a stop when I hit the far wall.
“I’ll give you points for distance,” I said as I pushed myself up and got to my feet. “But that was a pure panic move.”
Vortigern struggled against Dr. C’s telekinetic hold, and to his credit, I could see the strain on my mentor’s face as he held him in place. The Infernal lawyer’s face was red, and something pressed against the flesh of his forehead from underneath, making the skin bulge out. His hair hung in strands across his forehead and cheeks, making him look less like the snide lawyer I was used to, and more like an enraged psychopath.
“Release me, mage,” he spat.
“That’s wizard to you, counselor,” Dr. C said. “But before that, it’s Sentinel. Why did you try to bolt, Vortigern?”
“I need not answer to you, Corwin,” Vortigern said. His face contorted as he pushed himself forward a few inches. “Especially not to some ludicrous accusation concocted in the mind of a child.”
Dr. C brought his other hand up, and Vortigern was slammed back into the wall. Wood creaked and bowed behind him, and I could see his skin starting to flatten under the force holding him in place.
“Oh, I think you do, Kyle,” he said. “Because right now, Chance and I are the only thing standing between your daughter and a bunch of people who want to slit her throat open to call a demon horde.”
Vortigern’s lips peeled back in a sneer. “And you expect me to believe you would spare her?”
“Yes,” I said. I tilted my head to one side as I realized where all of this was going. “And so did you, two years ago when you pointed me to the Rite of Severing. This is the ‘matter of honor’ you were talking about. You were going to demand I swear on that debt, weren’t you?”
Vortigern stopped struggling, then smiled and let out a low laugh. “Very good, Fortunato. I approve. I must say, I’m going to miss being a step or two ahead of you and your mentor.”
“You could have just asked,” I said.
“Such simplistic solutions are not in my nature, I’m afraid. Besides, why ask for a favor when I can make you desperate to do exactly what I want anyway?”
Dr. C leaned forward, eliciting a moan from Vortigern. “It’s less painful for you in the long run if you ask nicely.”
“Again, not in my nature,” Vortigern said. “But, you have my word that I’ll not attempt to flee until you give me leave to.” The hair around his face fluttered a little, and my skin tingled. His word was given, and he was bound to honor it. Even among demons, a promise was a promise. Dr. C looked at Vortigern for a moment, then shrugged.
“Okay,” he said, and lifted his hands. Vortigern flew away from the wall, the force he had been resisting gone without warning. He hit the floor and slid a few feet, coming to a stop a couple of yards away from me. Slowly, he got to his feet and ran his hands through his hair.
“I suppose you think I deserved that,” he said.
“I don’t know if you did or not,” Dr. C said. “But it sure was fun to watch. That ought to tell you enough.”
“Perhaps it does,” Vortigern said with a half-smile. “But pray, tell. How did you learn that I was the father of the Half-Caste Chylde?”
“A little dragon told me,” I said.
“Excuse me?”
“Clan Ryu. Yakuza. They took your contract. They know who has your daughter, too.”
“It will do them little good,” Vortigern said. “Whoever she was entrusted to was merely a go-between. They were to find a home for her, and her new identity was only to be revealed to the firm under certain circumstances.”
“Like your betrayal?” Dr. Corwin asked.
“Yes, or… for the Rending, or other related prophesied events. It heavily favored the firm, of course,. Such contracts always do.”
“So, the only thing keeping them from finding her is the fact t
hat the contract was stolen,” I said.
“Yes. I tried to do the same, but someone beat me to it.”
“Not exactly,” Dr. C said. “You hired a thief by the name of Miles Volkmann to get it for you.”
“You’re remarkably well informed, Corwin,” Vortigern said. “He told me that the contract was no longer in the archives of the Honorable Sheng.”
“Technically, true,” Dr. C said. The sides of his mouth lifted slightly.
“Wait a second,” I sputtered. “You hired someone to steal from a freaking dragon!”
“I did indeed,” Vortigern said.
“And they succeeded,” Dr. C said, making my jaw drop even more. “But someone from Clan Ryu got to him first.”
“Curse me thrice!” Vortigern hissed. “It makes sense now. He said it was no longer in the archives. That someone else had it. Both technically true. He lied without lying. Damn the man!”
“That still leaves us where we started,” I said.
“Not exactly,” Dr. C said, the smile on his face growing. “If Clan Ryu is involved, then that means they’ve brought their favorite operative.”
“How does this help us?” Vortigern asked.
“Let’s just say that she and I have… history,” Dr. C said. I rolled my eyes.
“If they’ve sided with S&B,” I said, “all that history isn’t worth shit, sir. If she’s even here.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Dr. C said. His smile, more of a smirk, really, was as enigmatic as I’d ever seen him get.
I shook my head and got to my feet. “Well, I need to get Sleeping Beauty here home,” I pointed to Lucas.
“You head home, Chance,” Dr. C said. “I take care of Lucas. No one will even know I was there. And he’s less likely to get in trouble if I take him home.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered as I headed for the door. “Everyone’s a damn comedian.”
“Chance,” Dr. C said as I got to the door to the kitchen. Something in his voice stopped me, and I looked back over my shoulder at him. “On the one hand, everything that happened tonight...that’s why I want you on the sidelines. But… you handled it pretty well. Just try not to do this so much, okay?”
“Thanks,” I said. “But you know that ain’t happenin’,” I said.
“I know,” he said with a warm smile. “But I have to try. Good night, Chance.”
“Night, sir,” I said and stepped into the darkened kitchen. I stopped on the way to the back door to grab a Coke from the fridge.
“What a heartwarming moment,” I heard Vortigern say as I opened the side door. “Someone call The Hallmark Channel.” I didn’t hear all of Dr. C’s response, but I was pretty sure it had something to do with Vortigern going back to being a wall hanging.
The Mustang’s engine was a comforting rumble as I drove through town. My thoughts went back to what Hikaru had told Kim. Etienne’s attempt to channel Mammon had weakened the seals keeping Mammon and his armies imprisoned. There was no way to keep the Horde from showing up. Without the blood of the Half-Caste Chylde, there was no way to maintain control over it. And in spite of knowing that Vortigern was her father, we were still no closer to finding the Half Caste Chylde.
Something Dr. C had said when we were scrambling to catch the group of wanna-be shooters ran through my head. People like that tended to be on a short timer. The moment they thought the cops were on their way, they usually turned their guns on themselves. The Horde wasn’t nearly as self-destructive, but they would also show up with a clock ticking on them. Hikaru thought the only way to survive the Horde was to be the Horde. But maybe there was another option.
Instead of turning right to head home, I took a left and angled for the highway, pulling the phone Shade had given me out as I hit the on ramp and hitting the speed dial for her dark phone. It rang twice before it went to voicemail, which meant she’d rejected the call. I let out a slow breath as I waited for the beep.
“Shade, it’s Chance. But you already know that. Look, babe, I know you’re upset at me, but this is important. I need to ask you for a favor. I’ll text you the details. I know I could have just texted to begin with but… I wanted to hear your voice. Even when you’re mad at me, it’s still the most beautiful sound in the world. I love you, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” I ended the call, and added “I hope.”
A few minutes later, I was pulling into the scene Lucas and I had worked on Wednesday. Even before I got out of the car, the low level chill of recent death washed over my senses. Combined with the negative emotional residue the cultists had brought with them, this place had the right feel for something Infernal. My footsteps were loud in my own ears as I walked across the road, and I noticed how quiet it was. No birds, no frogs, no insects broke the silence of the night. All the better for what I wanted. I grabbed a stick and headed into the building, leaving the whisper of the wind and the distant hum of the city behind.
I made what preparations I could and hustled out of there. On the drive home, I let the wind blow the dark feeling off my skin, but my thoughts weren’t much better by the time I pulled into the driveway beside Mom’s van. Once I was inside, I took a deep breath and let it out. Being home helped. It was both a sanctuary and an inspiration, and my thoughts found better paths to follow. The upholstery of Mom’s favorite chair was a soft reassurance under my fingertips as I walked past it, and the smell of dinner still lingered in the air. This, I remembered, was everything I fought for, everything I risked my life for.
It’s also what you want to be worthy of, I reminded myself as I started up the stairs. It was a stark reminder that I still walked a fine line most of the time. The days to come were probably going to push me closer to the edge than I’d been in a long time; maybe even across it. I pulled my sheets off the bed and curled up on the floor wondering if I’d ever really lose the taint I’d picked up working for Dulka. The door creaked open, and a furry warmth settled next to me, followed by a wet tongue across my cheek.
“Good boy,” I muttered, and got a low groan in reply. Junkyard laid his head on my arm, then put a paw over my elbow. Maybe I was still okay enough. The thought comforted me into sleep.
Friday dawned hot and muggy, with massive clouds lit up on my right by the rising sun as I drove toward school. Ren rode with his elbows over the headrest of the passenger seat, his makeshift tactical gear hanging loose on him. Even at rest, his wings were a bright pink from excitement.
“Okay,” I said, fishing my dark phone out of my backpack. “What are the rules of engagement for today?”
“Just one,” Ren said. His thin lips curled up into a feral smile, and his wingtips went yellow. “Don’t.”
“Very funny. Now, for real.”
“Observe, alert, follow. If I find anyone who feels off, I call you and I stay invisible and tail them. I don’t engage them alone, or up close.”
“Right. That’s what the crossbow is for.” I opened the phone’s screen and held it close to my face. “Call Steve Donovan.” The phone happily informed me it was calling Steve, and I put the call on speaker then laid it on the passenger seat.
“Yo,” Steve said when he picked up.
“You have got to get a greeting from this century, Donovan,” I said.
“It works for me,” he answered with the confidence of the terminally awkward. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you were in the mood to torment some demons.”
“Did you think you had to ask me that? For real?”
“That’s what I thought. Meet me tonight. I’ll text you the address.”
“Should I bring…?”
“Definitely. And keep this between us. Plausible deniability. See you then.” I ended the call as I turned the Mustang into Kennedy High’s front parking lot. Beside me, Ren faded from view, and I heard the buzz of his wings as he flew out the passenger side window. I found a parking spot somewhere south of BFE and tossed my dark phone back into my backpack, then took off for the tree where we usually hung out be
fore school. Only Lucas, Monica and Wanda were waiting for me. Lucas had a distant look on his face, and Wanda was staring at her phone like it had grown another head. When Monica noticed me, she gave me a withering look that would have taken a few minutes off my life, if looks really could kill. She turned away from Lucas as I got closer, something I’d rarely seen her do. When she took a step away from him, I was even more surprised. When she hit me...well, that I wasn’t as surprised by, even if I wasn’t exactly expecting it.
“Asshole!” she hissed at me. I shook my head to clear it and put my hand to my mouth. My fingertips came away with a thin smear of red on them. “You had no right to do that to him.” She stood there facing me, her arms straight down at her side, her chin thrust forward, her whole body quivering in anger.
“You’re right,” I said.
“What?” Monica and Wanda said in unison.
“I shouldn’t have taken him with me. I could have done the whole thing on my own.”
“You should have thought of that before,” Monica said.
“And what was I supposed to know?” I asked. “What exactly was I supposed to have thought of? Every single way shit could have possibly gone wrong? You think I don’t second guess every decision I make? You think I don’t know that every single bad thing that has happened to my friends is my fault? I live with this shit every day, Monica. Every day.”
“You know you shouldn’t but you do anyway,” Monica said.
“Where would you be if he didn’t?” Lucas asked from behind her. Her face went pale, and she shook her head.
“I’d rather still be there than see you hurt,” she said. “He shouldn’t have taken you.”
“I volunteered,” Lucas said. “And I knew the risks. Besides, now that I can use the Sight...I can do this.” He stepped up behind Monica, and she shuddered as he put his hand close to her back.
“Oh, God,” she gasped, her eyelids fluttering as her back went ramrod straight, thrusting her breasts out against her shirt. Her head tilted to one side and she took an unsteady breath before she turned and pressed herself against Lucas. “What did you do?”