First Destroy All Giant Monsters (The World Wide Witches Research Association)

by Carter, D. L.

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can,” he leaned across the counter as his voice soothed, coaxed. “You need this. You want this. You want to join the gym.”

  Amber shuddered. The spell he was trying to cast barely brushed across the shields she’d reinforced, too late to protect herself from the stain. It was his voice, his assumptions, his cloying self-satisfaction that left her nauseated.

  “I can’t. Really.” Amber raised her pitch a little higher and let her voice shake as if the spell put her under pressure. “I don’t have enough left on my credit cards.”

  Running Wolf leaned back, a look of deep disgust on his face. His hand fell away from his pendant. A wolf. The same pose, the same style as the one Karl had shown her.

  “We could spread the cost over a couple of cards,” he suggested.

  Amber shook her head again and faked the chin tremble that weakened her father’s resolve on so many occasions. Running Wolf straightened and gave her a withering look.

  “Well, go apply for a new card and come straight back when you have it. Okay? Get another card!”

  Amber nodded meekly and grabbed her bag, sliding down off the stool. She kept her eyes downcast as she left so he wouldn’t see the anger flaring.

  The son of a bitch. She could hear the resonance. He’d put a magical push behind that last order. He magically forced people to sign up, join his club, and buy his trash clothes and food. Go into debt so they could feed his needs. As she walked toward the door she glanced over her shoulder at the women currently working the machines. There were signs of the drain on them. They were struggling with the weight stacks, expressions of grim determination on every face, but very little true strength. While she watched one of them drank from a small bottle of Running Wolf Rejuvenating Water.

  The complete and utter bastard!

  Those sticky black threads drained anyone who entered the gym, and when they came to exercise, they received a little piece of their energy back in the form of magically enhanced water. It wouldn’t take long at all for the glamoured victims to become dependent upon visiting the gym for their energy fixes. Amber gave the door a little extra push and watched everyone in the room jump as it slammed. Mr. Running Wolf nee Albert Poole was not satisfied with spirit strength; he was out to drain their cash and credit, too.

  Amber snarled as she turned away. He’d gotten twenty out of her. Later, she would take great satisfaction in taking that twenty out of his skin. From someplace close to his, she flexed her fingers imagining the potato peeler back into her hand, enhanced molded plastic jock strap.

  Back on the street she turned right and marched off, trying to appear as if she were acting under a compulsion. Running Flea would probably expect her back tomorrow to report on the credit application process. Begging for another drink. Begging for strength.

  Too bad. She wouldn’t be back until she knew how to destroy the web. For now she was at a loose end. Karl was gone. Off on his own to investigate whatever information he’d received and she was stuck wandering around Buffalo.

  She’d have to find her own path. Amber paused, staring into a dress shop window and giving her situation serious thought. The street was almost empty. That brief lull between lunch and the rush home. A small deli with outdoor tables beckoned to her. Amber settled at the most isolated table and examined the menu. She would order some food, fuel up, and contact Davie for an update. Then she’d go shopping.

  * * * * *

  Running Wolf, nee Albert Poole ignored his clients – not unusual – leaving them to do the best they could with the machines. It wasn’t as if he felt he had to work for customer loyalty. Everyone who came to the gym was tied to him and to the greater web of power and could easily be called back if they tried to stray. No. The clients did not worry him. But Karl Benn did.

  In the years since college Karl had not sought out any member of the old coven. At all. Yet here he was. The Coven permitted him the illusion of self-direction. Karl could live and work in the job and place that made him happy and for the most part no one had to worry about him. Not that he could go anywhere in the world that the coven could not find him. No. But that was not the point.

  It was unsettling. Karl moving around. Asking questions.

  Asking questions?

  Wasn’t one of the spells supposed to shut down his curiosity?

  Albert was not all that concerned what those questions were. The spells that bound Karl had been carefully designed and applied by Gloria. Even so, Albert would be happier if Karl just stayed where he was put, nice and obedient.

  Albert didn’t bother trying to figure out a solution to the problem. He realized years ago where the center of power was. Who the thinker, the planner was. He walked out of the brilliantly lit and exposed gym down a short corridor to his office, locking the door behind him. What his office might lack in usual office furniture it made up for with the soft king-sized bed. A small table, with computer, phone, and credit card scanner sat in the corner beside the door that led off to his private sauna and Jacuzzi. Albert collapsed onto his bed and grabbed the bedside landline phone. He considered Gloria paranoid for insisting that no one conduct coven business on a cell phone. She claimed that someone with the right equipment could pull any conversation out of the air. Albert knew, deep in his bones he knew, that magic was real.

  He just didn’t believe in technology.

  He punched in the familiar number and waited patiently. After a dozen rings the phone was picked up.

  Albert ran a hand over his brilliant hair and intoned formally.

  “Hail, my priestess, from whom all blessings flow. All Hail.”

  There was a long silence on the other end. Just as Albert was beginning to suspect Gloria had put down the phone and wandered away her voice snapped down the wire.

  “You’re lying down. Why aren’t you kneeling?”

  Albert gasped and rolled across the wide bed, diving to the floor. The phone flew from his hand and bounced against the mirrored walls. Albert scuttled after it on his knees. Snatching up the phone he crushed it back to his ear.

  “I am kneeling, my priestess.” He gasped as he crawled back to the bed.

  “Don’t drop the phone on me again, moron,” snarled Gloria. “Why are you phoning anyway?”

  “I had a visit … from Karl.”

  Albert blushed to the roots of his hair and cringed down on the carpet. It’d seemed like a good idea only seconds ago to pass his concerns onto Gloria. But talking to her now, he was remembering why, deep in his heart, he was grateful that she’d discarded him. Walked out of his life, his bed, and traveled far away.

  She was terrifying.

  “What did he want?” asked Gloria.

  “I’m … I’m not sure. He didn’t say anything much. I was surprised to see him. He’s not supposed to wander about. So I gave him a push. Sent him home.”

  There was another long silence on the other end. Albert waited, eyes squeezed shut, forehead resting on the bed’s thick quilt.

  “He was in town for Mike’s funeral,” said Gloria slowly. “It’s probably unsettled him that his minder is gone.” She sighed. “I probably shouldn’t have sacrificed Mike so quickly, but when that woman showed up for the drain instead of Karl I needed to re-establish control.”

  “She hasn’t come back since,” observed Albert. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  Gloria ignored the question. “Karl needs a new keeper. I will give it some thought. But I don’t want you to worry, Albert; it could never be you.”

  Albert kept his head bent. Having Gloria find a use for him was usually expensive and always unpleasant.

  “In the meantime, to keep Karl out of trouble I shall increase the energy drain. We’ll keep him too tired to even blink until I can get someone down there to keep an eye on him.”

  “Thank you,” whispered Albert, but the phone had already gone dead. He remained beside the bed for several minutes until he was certain that Gloria must have gone on to
some other activity. He knew he was among the least of her servants, weak and not very magical. The gym, the power he received daily, they were payoffs. Rewards for his support during her growing years. And if he wanted to keep them, he had to stay on Gloria’s good side.

  It was good politics.

  * * * * *

  Amber’s fingers flicked across the keyboard. Davie’s update was comprehensive, as expected, but he was asking her questions about the direction she wanted further investigations to go. Amber frowned as she carefully formed her replies. She didn’t want to give Davie too much information about her search. Particularly, she did not want to talk about magic. The man was a data processor. Knowledge in, information out. One day someone might ask him a question about her and Amber didn’t want him to have the answer. Loyalty and friendship aside, he just enjoyed being the person holding the information and had to pass it on to show he had it. The best protection right now was distraction.

  “What else did you find out about this group?” she typed.

  “Most of them were average students. Nothing special.”

  Davie’s typing was slow. Every now and then there was a pause and Amber knew he’d stopped to take a breath of oxygen or to cough. No one knew just how sick Davie was. They hadn’t seen him for years, but his typing was slower. He worked less and few people could claim to have heard his real voice recently.

  “Ms. Gloria, though, she was something else,” Davie continued. “Head of every committee of any social consequence. Photo in the school paper every time it came out. Even made it into the city paper a time or two. She wasn’t much of a looker. There were some scandals associated with her and for some reason that I haven’t found yet, she was asked to leave the school before graduating. Finished her degree in Modern History off campus, at Yale of all places. How she got in there after being kicked out of somewhere else is an interesting question I shall be researching.”

  “Karl?”

  “3.7 GPA for most of his time. Interests. Karate club, withdrew. Golf club, withdrew. Country line dance instructor – would you believe it? Withdrew. Worked part-time in the library. Couldn’t do it his last year. Took one semester off for health problems. Had to take a double course load over the summer to catch up. Poor grades that semester, that’s what lowered his average. I’m still looking for the reason for his time off. It was the same semester that Gloria was asked to leave. I’m running into some problems tracking data.”

  Amber grinned at the screen.

  “No. Really? You?”

  She could imagine Davie’s smile.

  “Miracles take a little longer, okay?” came the reply. “Someone did a purge of the online copies. Deleted a few years’ worth of editions. I’ve contacted “The Wayback Machine” website and I’m waiting for a reply. Thing is, it would be easier if someone went to the actual school and looked at the print copies. The only reason I know she was in the school paper is that the city paper article said so. Included the photos of her. If you want anything more, you’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way and read the paper. Don’t hurt yourself.”

  “Ha. Ha.”

  Amber nodded to herself. She had no plan. No direction. Without Karl, she had no idea if she were wasting time or not. For now she would waste time in a constructive manner. Sun Tzu advised knowing one’s enemy. She would spend a few hours finding out if Gloria was hers.

  “Do you want that autopsy report I found?”

  The print glowed on the screen. Amber stared at it, frowning. Did she? Did she want to know? For the first time Amber was grateful that Karl was not around. If he’d been reading over her shoulder she would have felt that she was invading his friend’s privacy.

  Her fingers moved slowly across the keys as she typed her reply.

  “Why? Is there anything interesting?”

  “Sure, if you’re into vampires. The cause of death. Cardiac failure following catastrophic blood loss.”

  Amber paled as she remembered the blood fountaining, spilling onto the burning rocks. Splattering over her face and breasts.

  “Do you want to know the best part?”

  Amber’s lips twisted and she chuckled despite herself. That statement alone was proof that Davie was male.

  “There’s a best part? Go on.”

  “Unusual pattern of teeth on the neck. It was torn open. Big jaws, the coroner says. The larynx wasn’t crushed and there are no other injuries on the body. No defensive wounds. No scratches, no hair. The police report says they didn’t find any blood in the room with the body. Nothing. They haven’t released the information and photos and crime scene reports have been sent to the Feds’ crime lab.”

  Amber halted, her fingers hovering over the keys. She remembered very well. The blood. The wound. She knew where the throat injury had been inflicted. Where the blood had splattered. Until that moment she’d only suspected Mike was the wolf. Now she knew.

  How was she going to explain this to Karl?

  Where was he?

  Chapter Ten

  “Go now. Go now. Now. Now! Now!”

  The Mustang growled as it plunged around the corner. Karl felt the rear tires struggling for traction, skidding sideways out of the lane. The drivers behind and beside him slammed feet on brakes and hands on horns. Shock, terror poured adrenaline into his system and Karl blinked rapidly. His mouth dry he swerved between cars, heading for the emergency lane. Seconds later he pulled his car off the road and sat, head in hands, shuddering. His face was numb, and blood pounded in his ears.

  What the hell had gotten into him?

  Karl burrowed his fingers into his hair and pulled. The sharp pain cleared his mind a little further and he raised his head to peer out of the windshield. It was full dark. Passing cars were little more than brief flashes of light on this unknown road. Karl struggled to focus. He could remember driving, but not for how long. He could still feel the pressure of the steering wheel under the palms of his hands. His legs were cramped from working the clutch and gas, but he could not remember what he’d been driving toward or away from. The past … minutes … hours were a blur. He shook his head as another car passed and realized that not only had he been speeding, but he’d been driving in the dark with his headlights off.

  He rubbed his face and groaned.

  Magic again. That was the only explanation.

  He’d walked into that gym and after that … nothing.

  Nothing.

  Nothing could do that except magic.

  Karl clenched his fists, raised his head, and shrieked. He beat his hands on the steering wheel, howling out his frustration.

  They’d attacked him. Again magic had taken hold of him, shut him down, and thrown him. He wanted to crush someone, something. He wanted to grab the bastard responsible for controlling him and choke the life out of him.

  In his mind echoed the command, go, go now.

  Karl twisted the key in the ignition and pushed in the clutch, but did not engage the gear. He twisted his hands over the leather, trying to choke the life out of the steering wheel until his bruised hands protested. The engine growled, then sputtered into silence as he lifted his foot from the clutch.

  Go. Go. Go.

  No. He couldn’t drive. He’d cause an accident. He needed to go, but he’d get there on foot. Safer that way. Karl threw open the door and staggered out of the car. He had to keep moving. Keep going. It wasn’t safe to stand still.

  So many hours sitting in the car left him cramped and clumsy. He walked along the side of the road, the chill wind of the passing cars pulling at his clothes.

  Go. Go. Go.

  Karl pressed his hands to his ears, trying to crush the voice that echoed in his mind. Magic, magic was driving him crazy. Magic was driving him, period. In all those years since college … during college, magic had been driving him and he hadn’t known it. Someone had decided to make him a victim, a target. His steps quickened. Jogging down the littered road Karl covered his eyes with his hands.

  He
didn’t want to be a victim. Stupid, stupid thought. Who did? But he was stuck. Someone had made him ground zero for metaphysical shit. No one could free him. No one cared enough to make the effort. No one had the ability. The one who had him in her control could pull his strings at any time and he would dance. Why fight it?

  He stumbled and pulled his hands away from his face, then lengthened his stride, breath tearing at his throat. His lungs burned in familiar pain and his heart beat frantically.

  He was only in pain because he wasn’t home, echoed in his mind.

  Yes. If he could just get home he would be safe. Everything would go back to the way it had been. He’d been getting by, every day like every other. Predicable. Quiet. No stress.

  No pain.

  No one asking difficult questions. No one making him think thoughts that led to him running like a mad man down the side of a road at midnight while cars chased him like wolves. The headlights slashing across him. The car horns howling, tearing sanity away in searing strips. If he could just forget, forget about magic, he would be all right. But for now …

  He had to go home. Get home. They were just behind him. He had to go … go … go.

  Forget magic. Forget Amber and go home.

  I want to help.

  I promise.

  His foot caught on cracked asphalt. Loose rocks tore into his hands and knees as he slammed to the ground. Momentum rolled him across the debris of old cigarettes, soda cans, and loose paper. He lay panting on the side of the road, ignoring the cars, the lights, the trees. As the minutes passed his heart settled back to normal rhythm and his breathing eased. Slowly he lifted his bloodied hands and studied then in the intermittent light.

  “Shit.”

  He dropped his hands onto his chest, wrapped himself around the pain, and closed his eyes tight.

  Amber wants to help, he forced himself to remember; Magical Amber was helping. She’d driven him to Buffalo. She’d called Davie and started searching. She’d listened to him and believed it all. She knew it was real.