by Phil Gabriel
“Not just one child. I hope to find more,” I said. “And money can be a curse. This child needs training, needs protection from those that would abuse her talent, needs to know she isn’t crazy because she talks to spirits.”
Ally had a calculating look, then said, “How rare are magicians? I know you, the ghost girl, Miss Daeng, and now this Thai girl. It seems like the witches have you outnumbered.”
I don’t lie, but I can easily evade. “Chihuahuas have wolves outnumbered. Are you worried about them?” How rare are magicians? Too damn rare.
“So that’s the mission,” I said. “Find and encourage magical talent in Thailand. Use the resources of this office to get them schooling and training in magic.” I looked at Ally, ensuring she understood. “Protect them from those who would do them harm.”
“A Hogwart’s for Thai kids,” Kitty-Sue said.
“And Bandit’s salary?” asked Daeng, returning to the original question.
I looked at Pam, who had invited Bandit to Bangkok. She gave a tiny shake of her head, leaving the details to me. “He’s going to work from this office, running errands”—I nodded at the meal— “doing anything you need to be done. He’ll need to help Toy and Jack get to their English lessons after school. He’ll need to escort you and Toy to dancing lessons with Tani Tiger-Lily.”
“And salary?” asked Daeng.
“Give him twenty-five thousand baht a month,” I offered. Half of Daeng’s salary should be good for Bandit.
A bit of chitter-chatter in Lanna Thai and Daeng turned to me. “Where will he live? With me?”
“Only if you want,” I started, then stopped at Kitty-Sue’s headshake. “But it’s better if he has his own place to stay. He might see too much of the magical world if he stays with you.”
“He could, um, you know, stay with me,” said Ally. “At least until he gets settled and finds his own place.” She licked her lips. Perhaps searching for stray crumbs, perhaps in anticipation. She was stroking her thigh with her recently repaired hand.
We all looked at her in shock. The ice queen werewolf bitch was offering Bandit a place to stay? “Boss,” asked Kitty-Sue, “just how strong was that orgasm whammy you used?”
Shaking my head at Kitty-Sue, I said, “It’s never had this effect before. Maybe they were destined to meet.” I had to smile at Kitty-Sue’s derisive snort.
“In any case,” I continued, “those are things the local team will have to sort out with the manager.” I nodded at Daeng to let everyone know she was in charge. “We have to get going. We have a plane to catch.”
“Wait,” said Daeng. She nodded at Ally. “What about her salary? Who will pay that? And how much is she to receive?”
“A million dollars a year should be enough,” said Ally.
“Nice try. How about a dollar a year?” I countered.
Turning away from Ally, I said to Daeng, “Ally doesn’t need money. She already has a lot. She still receives money from her last job. You’re her salary.”
“Me?” asked Daeng. “You expect me to...”
“No,” I said hastily, “not that. Do you remember my curse?”
“Something about eventually forgetting she was ever a wolf?” asked Daeng, with a puzzled expression.
“Yes,” I said. Nodding at Bandit and Ally, I continued, “Magic protects itself from humans. Their memories shift, covering any evidence of magic, making them mundane.”
At Daeng’s puzzled expression, I said, “Ask Bandit what happened to his old boss and co-workers.”
A few sentences of Thai and Daeng looked at me in wonder. “He says they were all electrocuted by a lightning bolt.” In a lower voice, she continued, “He has no memory of you, your magic sword, Kitty-Sue, or John after the fight.”
“That’s how humans react to magic,” I said. “If a human is not exposed to magic regularly, they forget it exists. A guy named Randi owes me a million dollars, but always forgets the bet. Now, why do you think someone like Ally wants to work with you?”
“She can’t stay with her pack,” said Daeng. “She would be exiled or killed. She doesn’t know any other magic users. She needs to stay close to magic to remember her time as a werewolf. It’s her only chance to regain what she lost.”
Ally, sore at being the subject of our conversation, interjected, “I know other magic users. You’re not that special.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You mean the Witch’s Coven? How much did they ask to let you ‘serve’ them?”
Ally opened her mouth to lie, saw our expressions, and changed her mind. “They wanted all of my shares in Selene Select Partners,” she said. “I would have been broke, and their servant for seven years.”
She sniffed. “Your Deal was slightly better.”
“You know witches always lie,” I said. “They’re the opposite of magicians.”
Ally looked at me with scorn. “I think I could have written an ironclad contract.”
“And who would enforce this contract?” I asked. She had no answer to that, and we were out of time.
30
Return to Tokyo
We gathered ourselves and prepared to head to the airport. I shook Bandit’s hand; then he made a wai to us. Ally got a nod; I was hesitant to touch her hand again. The intimacy of the healing process, especially with someone I didn’t like, made it hard to touch again.
Kitty-Sue surprised me by hugging Daeng, a hug that went on for a long time. She whispered something in Daeng’s ear that made the Thai girl smile.
Kitty-Sue surprised me even more by hugging Ally. She also whispered something in Ally’s ear. Instead of smiling, Ally’s face turned white.
In the taxi, I asked Kitty-Sue, “What were you whispering about?”
“With Daeng,” she said, “just girl-talk, and a bit of advice.”
“And with Ally-cat?”
“I just told her what I’d do to her if she fucks up this plan of yours and anything happens to those kids.”
At the airport, Kitty-Sue walked into a ladies’ room as Pam and came out as herself. I couldn’t help myself; I hugged her. It was comforting touching someone and not hearing the catalog of physical problems that always went through me when I touched a mundane.
Kitty-Sue wasn’t used to public displays of affection; hand holding was her normal means of showing closeness. I felt her foxtail, invisible under her glamour, tickle my face. She chuckled and said, “Did you miss me?”
I pulled back and grinned at her. “Of course,” I said, “you’re my favorite girlfriend.”
I felt her claws at my back, ready to shred. “Favorite?” she muttered. “Only the favorite? And who else is on the list?”
“Well,” I said, “I recently met this lady called Pam. She’s something else.”
The claws retracted, and we pulled apart. I took her hand and started walking towards Customs.
“I didn’t think you’d like Pam,” said Kitty-Sue.
“What’s not to like?” I said. “She’s a big woman, strong, independent, and has a wicked sense of humor.”
“She doesn’t have that quality all of your other girlfriends seem to have,” said Kitty-Sue.
“What would that be?” I asked.
“She hasn’t tried to kill you...” Long pause. “Yet.”
An hour later, we were in the air, heading towards Haneda airport in Tokyo. The cute stewardess, excuse me, flight attendant, kept us topped up with first-class champagne. Even Kitty-Sue, normally a nondrinker in bodyguard mode, had a sip when I toasted her.
After my third glass of champagne, I took her left hand in my right. Her hand was tougher than leather, had vicious claws that could slice through almost anything, had killed lord knew how many men, and fit in mine perfectly. “Have I told you how much you mean to me?”
“Pak-wan,” she said, using the Thai term for a bullshitter. But she smiled and looked away and squeezed my hand.
“Really,” I said. “I wanted you to know that before I face the samu
rai.” I had known since I became a magician that one day my vows would force me to accept a challenge that would end me. I was sure this was the one.
We held hands for a few minutes before her irrepressible nature reasserted itself. “I think you’re acting like this because you want me to shift to my Pam body for outrageous sex.” Her grin lightened my soul.
“Is Pam a member of the mile-high club?”
She giggled. “Not yet.”
I nodded to the restroom. “Want Pam to earn her wings?”
“So, you like Pam?” she asked. Alarm bells went off; even a crazy kitsune would react badly to the wrong answer.
“Only because she’s really you,” I said. An answer that would have made no sense to anyone but us.
“She’s not, you know,” she said.
“Not what?”
“Not really me,” said Kitty-Sue. “It’s hard to explain to a non-shifter. Pam’s appetites are different than mine. I didn’t know until she grappled with Daeng.” Kitty-Sue looked at me and licked her lips. “She’s willing to do a lot of things I wouldn’t do.”
I opened my mouth to answer and found myself speechless. This was one of those situations that women are great at: no matter what the man says, it can be taken wrong. I nodded and responded with a joke. “So, there’s a chance?” I asked, nodding at the restroom.
Kitty-Sue reached over with her right hand, just as deadly as her left, and stroked my cheek. “After we finish this mission, I promise you a night of Pam-sized fun.” She chuckled. “Pam might be more woman than you can handle.”
“It’s a date,” I said. It wasn’t until I was drinking my next glass of champagne that I realized that Kitty-Sue had gotten me to think beyond the present mission, to a future to hope for. Damn, she was smart.
From Haneda, we took the monorail to Hamamatsucho station in the center of Tokyo.
Then we took a taxi to the ANA Intercontinental Hotel. Although it delayed our trip to Hakone, Kitty-Sue insisted on going to the hotel for a meeting with her queen to report on our trip. I tried to convince her to head directly to Hakone. “Can’t you just email the queen?” At her headshake, I continued, “Facetime? How about that damn Tailbook account you have? Can’t you just friend the—” I stopped myself from completing the sentence, which might have saved my life.
“No,” said Kitty-Sue, making the crossed-wrist gesture Japanese used to indicate they really mean it. “Kitsune have to meet in person. One can lie in an email or a video chat. In person, my queen can smell out the slightest deception. She insists I meet with her.”
“OK,” I said, “let’s go and meet the queen.”
“Gomenasai, Scott-san,” said Kitty-Sue. “This is a kitsune meeting. Rogue magicians are not invited.” She gave me the imploring look she used when her duty conflicted with her desires.
“No problem,” I said. “I’ll just hang out in the bar. Grab me when you finish your audience with herself.”
We split up in the hotel lobby. My mood improved when I saw my favorite barman behind the counter. “Nakamura-san,” I said. “It’s so good to see you here. How are you?”
With a bow and a smile, he returned my greeting. In seconds, he had set a polished crystal tumbler on the bar, dropped in a single perfect cube of ice, and poured a generous shot and a half of my favorite drink. I picked up the glass and inhaled the aroma of Johnnie Walker Black Label before taking a sip of the ambrosia. I know, everyone knows only tasteless clods drink good whiskey with ice, and John Clayton hates blended scotch. Screw them all. I know what I like.
“Please pour yourself a drink,” I said to Nakamura-san. As he prepared his drink, I continued, “How’s your mother? Were you able to take advantage of the Hakone Onsen?”
He gave me a deep bow before replying. “Yes, she is feeling much better. The onsen has eased her arthritis. She now walks without pain. I thank you greatly for your help.”
As I sipped again, he continued, “Although we are worried about her memory. She swears that she was almost crippled with arthritis until she started wearing that good health charm and visiting the onsen. We all know she was only starting to feel the effects of arthritis.”
No, she had been bent almost double, living in constant pain, and ready to die before I made that health charm for her. Once again, mundanes’ memories rearranged themselves to avoid facing the fact that magic exists. Nakamura-san’s mother, wearing a magical amulet, retained some memories. But no one believed her.
Sometimes I almost regret performing miracles and never receiving gratitude for the results. Then I remember the Salem witch trials, and how quickly gratitude can turn to hate, and push those thoughts away.
“I’m happy that the onsen has made her feel better,” I said. “You and your family are always welcome to use it when we are not there.”
Nakamura-san refilled our glasses, careful to give himself only a single shot, compared to my double. He was honest to a fault. Except when dealing cards, that is.
Princess gave a warning buzz just before the approaching stench made me gag, just before a set of arms embraced me from behind. Her massive breasts rubbed against my back.
“Hello, Scott,” said the voice of the woman that had almost killed me and had stolen my magic sword.
Holding my breath, I turned around on the stool and smiled. “Hello, Nasty.”
She stepped back a few feet, letting me draw a small breath through my mouth. Natsumi was Kitty-Sue’s older sister. I used to call her Naughty-Sue, until she tried to kill me. Then I switched to calling her Nasty. Kitty-Sue’s evil sister. No, not soap opera “evil.” She was “screw her sister’s boyfriend to death and rob his corpse” evil.
“Did you miss me?” she asked.
I had to admit she looked good. Black velvet hair on her tails and ears, more than ample bosoms, an ass to die for. She exuded sex appeal and had the attention of every man in the bar and even a few women. Her attraction was aided by her use of kitsune pheromones, sexual attractants that warped good sense. She was irresistible to everyone in the bar.
Except for me. Due to some judicious auto-brain surgery, her particular brand of pheromones was disgusting to me. The only way to escape her trap had been to rearrange my neural pathways to invert the sensation of her scent. Instead of being incredibly attracting, it was redolent of garbage and dead bodies.
Still, she looked good. The demon in my mind said, “Once you’re past the smell, you’ve got it licked,” and produced an image of nose plugs.
Yeah, I wasn’t about to stick my dick back into that particular meat grinder. I locked the bad thoughts away.
“Not in the least. Don’t you have a furry convention to attend?” I asked. “You’re still looking for your soulmate, right?”
She showed her fangs, and her claws extended to slash, only to be stopped as Kitty-Sue appeared and took her arm in an iron grip. “Now, sis,” she said, “don’t be rude to my magician.” Kitty-Sue was more possessive around her sister.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” said Nasty. “I was talking to that lovely sword.” She pointed but was careful not to try to grab Princess. Princess hated Nasty almost as much as I did. The zinggg! sound of a sword being drawn rang through the bar, Princess’ way of warning people just before attacking.
Nakamura-san was watching, almost drooling, at Nasty’s sheer sex appeal. I snapped my fingers to get his attention. “Nakamura-san,” I said, “please get some drinks for my friends.” Looking at Kitty-Sue, I said, “A Shirley Temple for Kitty-Sue.” Then I looked at Nasty. “How about a strong-smelling drink for her strong-smelling sister?”
“Strong smelling?” asked the barman. “I don’t know...”
“Ouzo, make it two,” I said. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the Johnnie Walker as long as she was around. The smell of licorice should cut down on her stench.
“Ouzo it is,” said Nakamura-san, producing a nearly full glass of the strongly scented liquor. The fumes brought a short respite from Nasty’s sten
ch. I kept the glass in front of my face so the ouzo fumes would block her smell. I briefly considered changing back so her smell didn’t bother me. Just one sniff, whispered my evil side. No fucking way.
“Have you seen that the hotel has remodeled the rooms?” asked Nasty with her most innocent expression. “They have a new layout, with bigger beds. If you’re interested in seeing them again, I could give you a tour...”
Looking her up and down, I said, “I’m not interested in revisiting old places. No matter how you dress them up, they still have an air of failure.” I took another sip of the ouzo before continuing. “Speaking of old things, didn’t you just have a birthday?”
If looks could kill, well, I would have been dead as soon as she walked into the bar. Bringing up her age just added to her ire. Age was a touchy subject with Japanese women. A woman who passed her twenty-fifth birthday without a mate was called a “Christmas Cake.” A cake nobody wanted after the twenty-fifth.
Turning to Kitty-Sue, I reached for her hand and asked, “All done with your meetings? We can go anytime.”
“Yes,” she said, squeezing my hand in return. I paid Nakamura-san, not even balking at paying for the ouzo for Nasty. It was worth it to abate her smell.
As we turned away, I said, “Oh, Nasty? Could you do me a favor?” She looked at me in surprise, then I continued, “Please tell your mother I said ‘hello.’”
Yeah, it was rude, but she had tried to kill me. If she weren’t Kitty-Sue’s sister, she would have been sold off in an auction at a furry convention.
We caught a taxi to the JR train station and hopped on the next train to Hakone. At least here the weather was nicer. I love Thailand, but the rainy season is a pain. Even Princess seemed happier after shifting from her umbrella to her cane shape.
I leaned back in my seat and prepared to meditate. I needed to gather as much energy as possible before confronting the samurai.
“Boss?” said Kitty-Sue in a hesitant voice. “We should talk about my meeting with the queen.”