Blood And Stone: A Novel in The Atalante Chronicles

by Nicholas W King

  Manuel stood and leaned forward, placing both his hands on the table. “I had nothing to do with an attack.”

  A mirthless laugh escaped my lips. “I was nearly gunned down after seeing you, right on the sidewalk outside the Columbia.” I raised my cane and pointed the knotted handle at the vampire lord. “Are you saying it was only a coincidence?”

  “Unlikely,” he said. “I am still not responsible.”

  I clicked my tongue. “Christ on a cracker. It’s an unintentional violation,” I said. “I may not be the most popular wizard in the Assembly, but they’ll be upset regardless over this violation of the Codex. Perhaps you’re not as in control as you’d like others to believe.”

  Manuel seethed at the other end of the table. My last words were a calculated risk. I took a moment to gaze around the table. The assembled vampire hierarchy remained still. But they were no longer glaring at me. Their attention had shifted to their Lord. I knew Manuel’s power rested on his ability to appear strong to the rest of them. One hint of weakness and they would start putting plans into motion to depose him. I also knew some of what Vega was capable of. These other vampires were wild cards and could throw off the delicate balance of Tampa Bay’s supernatural community.

  Picture for a moment a mob war to seize control of a city. Now throw out all the moral hang-ups human beings have. That’s what awaited the Bay area if Manuel had to fight to keep his position.

  “I will not have my rule questioned by you, Nicodemus,” said Manuel slowly. If he could have spat his venom at me in that moment, I’m sure he would have.

  Lester leaned in close to my ear. “Be cautious, Nico.”

  “You should listen to your friend, Nicodemus,” said Manuel.

  “Getting shot at makes me grumpy,” I said. “I’m like that.”

  The glare Manuel gave me could have shattered a mountain.

  “There’s an easy solution,” I said, hoping to defuse the growing tension in the room. “A favor to the aggrieved parties. A large favor.”

  Vega studied me, his mind working through the possible angles. “One favor,” he said finally.

  “Two,” I replied. “One for me and one for Sergeant Marks.”

  Lord Vega took his seat. His hands formed a steeple under his chin. “Very well,” he said. “Two large favors. To keep the peace.”

  I don’t think anyone could have said the word “peace” with that much loathing.

  “Good,” I said. “I’ll use mine now.” Lester looked a bit flustered for a moment, but stayed quiet.

  “Speak,” said Manuel. I was trying his patience.

  “Name and location of the person Deputy Blackwell asked you about earlier,” I said. “The one you refused to divulge.” Before Manuel started to speak, I raised my hand. “On your word as the Lord of Tampa, you will give me the truth.”

  Manuel seethed at the interruption, but he nodded. “Her name is Magdelena,” he said. “She has a warehouse on Coronet Road outside of Plant City.” He smiled. The sly bastard knew what I was going to ask for next. I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d actually played into his hands.

  I bowed my head and turned to leave when Lord Vega raised his hand to stop me. “Now that you’ve collected your favor,” he said, “remember this. From this point forward, for your insolence and acts of disrespect to this Conclave, you are no longer under my protection.” The vampire turned his attention to Lester. “When you collect your favor, keep that in mind as well.”

  “Retexo minora,” I said, touching my cane to the table. All but the blood hungry vampire was released from their bonds. The table was warped in several places, but it was still functional.

  “You’ll handle him?” I asked, pointing my cane at the bound vampire. Before Manuel could answer, I turned on my heel and made my way to the front door. Marco and his goons were waiting for us.

  “I’ll be seeing you soon, maricón,” said the vampire.

  I channeled the remaining power I’d taken from the crystal and focused it into one effect. “Adigo.”

  The burst of green energy that erupted from my cane was roughly the size of a medicine ball. It hit Marco full in the chest, crushing his ribcage with a sickening crack. He flew backwards, knocking down the other two guards and continuing through the door, taking it off its hinges. Still Marco kept going, skipping across the ground like a stone on a pond. He finally came to a rest halfway to the street. The crash of shattered fiberglass drew the Conclave from the dining area.

  Without looking at them, I spoke loud enough for all of them to hear, including Lord Vega.

  “I think I’ll manage,” I said.

  After walking over the incapacitated guards, I leaned on my cane a bit as I climbed into the SUV. Lester and I didn’t speak until we were crossing the bridge out of the Islands.

  “You’ve got questions. Ask ‘em while I’m tired enough not to evade,” I said at last.

  “What’s with the crystal?” he asked

  I produced the spent amethyst from one of my pockets. The crystal looked ready to shatter. “It’s a phylactery. Wizards create them to act like a back-up battery. To store processed magical energy for later use.”

  “Phylactery,” said Marks, sounding out the word.

  “Soul Jar’s easier. Fighting the vamp and the human took a lot out of me.”

  “Getting your mojo back?”

  My laugh came up from my stomach. It felt really good. “What’s with the arsenal?”

  “After the ghouls...” His voice caught in his throat. “I realized I needed more firepower.”

  “Shotgun’s a good choice. It’ll put down a ghoul. A vampire as well. Got any special ammo?”

  “Pit bull rounds,” he said. “Some Triple Decker shells as well.”

  I whistled. “I have no idea what those are. But it sounds cool.”

  “Can’t let you be the only one knocking people around,” he said with a chuckle. He focused on driving for a few minutes. “What’s this favor stuff? And the Codex you talked about?”

  “Manuel owes you for happened to Angela,” I said. “Use it wisely.” My head rolled to the side. I wanted to set my head against the window and take a nap, but I shook my head and fought to stay awake. “The Codex is the treaty between the supernatural nations of this world and Sideways. Been around since the days of Rome.”

  “It keeps the peace?”

  “More like makes covert warfare the name of the game.”

  “Vega’s gonna be gunning for you,” he said. “You know that, right?”

  “Not directly. I’ll be dealing with the lesser vamps under his command. If they pull off killing me, he can execute them and still maintain the letter of the Codex. If they fail, he’s lost nobody of real value.”

  “Then he and you can reconcile?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He was pissed that you showed him up. No doubt about that. But he was hurt too.” We stopped at a red light. Lester looked at me. “You and him, huh?”

  “It’s... complicated.”

  Lester shook his head. I couldn’t see any condemnation in his face. “Be careful,” he said. “Hell hath no fury and all that.”

  We didn’t talk much more the rest of the way. Lester gave me a quick salute before driving off. Once I’d dropped my stuff off in my office, I noticed the time. It was well past midnight. Fatigue finally caught up with me. I sat down in my recliner, kicked my feet up, and closed my eyes. A small weight appeared on my chest as Twitch took his spot. I absently petted him as I fell into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 9

  My house phone jolted me awake. I hadn’t slept nearly long enough.

  The clock on the end table told me it was just after 8:30 in the morning. I got up and groggily made my way upstairs. On the wall in the hallway were about two dozen photos spread out and stapled to the wall. Each one had a name taped under it. Several of the photos were of police officers. The others were every-day citizens. I let the phone go to voi
cemail while I took a few minutes to scan each photo and name.

  After I finished my morning ritual, I made my way to the kitchen to make some coffee. While that brewed, I called my voicemail service.

  “Mr. Atalante,” a female voice said, “it’s Patricia Masters. I need you to come out to the ranch. It’s James. He...he set fire to the lawn.”

  I let out a low whistle. The image of James roasting the grass in one of the pens came to my mind. I could only imagine how the horses handled the surprise if they were nearby.

  “Can you come out this morning?” Patricia’s voice continued. “I’m keeping him home from school today. I’ll be happy to pay for your time.”

  I knew I hadn’t made a good impression the first time. My fatigue-soaked brain considered setting a price for a simple meeting. I dismissed that as the smell of coffee hit my nostrils. I picked up the phone and dialed the last number to ring in.

  Patricia picked up. “Hello?” she said.

  “Ms. Masters? This is Nicodemus Atalante.”

  “Mr. Atalante. I’m sorry for calling you so early. Pastor Richards said to give you a call. But with what happened yesterday, I got a bit anxious.” Her voice sounded strained.

  “I’ll be there in about an hour,” I said. I heard her sigh with relief. “No charge.”

  “I... I’ll be waiting for you.”

  We hung up and I went to get my coffee. My brain does not work well on short sleep. It works even worse on short sleep and no coffee. As the warm nectar of the heavens brought my synapses back to life, I began going over the angles. If James was spontaneously creating bursts of flame, he might be a pyromancer. His recent fire-starting also meant his magic was fully manifesting. Considering the botched summoning he’d attempted, this wasn’t far-fetched at all.

  After my second cup of coffee, I got dressed, made sure to grab my coat from the night before, got my cane, and headed out. The traffic was brisk and I made it to the farm more or less on time. As I rode down the long driveway to the main house, I caught sight of James’ handiwork. A jagged patch of grass, about eight or nine feet across, was scorched to nothing but dirt. I couldn’t see any smoke rising from the ground, which was a good sign.

  I parked my Jeep in front of the house. Patricia rose from her seat on the porch. She wore a faded navy-blue sweater and jeans. Her hair was pulled back in an untidy ponytail. As I walked up, I noticed the worry lines in her forehead had become more prominent. Her face carried the same heavy expression she’d worn the first time I came over.

  Standing on the steps of the porch, I waited to be invited up. She gave me a short nod, which I returned.

  “Mr. Atalante.”

  “Ms. Masters. Mind if I take a seat?”

  She gestured for me to take the comfortable white lawn chair she’d been using. She sat in the rocking chair across from me.

  We said nothing for a few minutes. The only sound I heard was the soft rustling of the horses in the barn. “Where’s James?” I said, when I decided we had waited long enough.

  “In his room,” she said. “I thought he’d be less likely to want to destroy his own things.”

  I cast a sidelong glance at the front door. The day before, I’d figured he might have some magical strength. Given what he’d done yesterday, James was probably holding in much more potential than that.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” I asked, leaning forward in the chair.

  Ms. Masters started rocking back and forth, drawing one leg up to her chest. “He was out in the paddock yesterday afternoon. I put him to work after he got back from your place.”

  I gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry about that. I didn’t know he was there until I got back from a job.”

  “James was frustrated. What did you two talk about?”

  “He asked me to teach him magic,” I said. “I told him I’d talk to you both about it after I got finished with the case I’m working.”

  She nodded slowly, taking in what I’d said. “I was out riding my mare, Berry,” she explained. “I called out to James to finish up. He yelled at me to leave him alone. Then flames burst from his hand. They hit the grass and spread.” Patricia stopped rocking her chair and stared at me. She looked like she wanted to blame me for her son’s growing power. When I didn’t respond, she continued. “We put it out with some buckets of water from the pond. He’s been in his room ever since.”

  I leaned back and laid my cane across my lap. “I see,” I said.

  “He’s like you, isn’t he?” she asked. “A wizard.”

  Her tone didn’t have the same judgmental flair that Terry’s had held. She seemed resigned to the notion that altering reality on a whim was a normal occurrence...at least for people like me and her son.

  “Yes,” I said. “The possession he experienced wasn’t an accident. I think that spirit found him because he’s coming into his power.”

  Patricia nodded and resumed rocking. She crossed her arms over her chest. “What happens now?”

  I didn’t answer immediately.

  “If I followed the letter of the law,” I began, flinching slightly, “I’d have to report your son to the Assembly.”

  “The Assembly?”

  “The Scarlet Assembly,” I explained. “It’s the organization for wizards in the United States. Been around since before the Revolutionary War. They have a group, kinda like cops, called Sentinels. A few of them would show up after I made the call.” I closed my eyes and took a breath. “Your son would be taken into custody. Your memory would be modified with a cover story. Probably something like sending him away to boarding school.”

  I bowed my head before finishing. “You wouldn’t see him again for a long time. If you did see him, he’d be a grown man.”

  Patricia’s rocking had become faster as I spoke. “Did that happen to you?”

  Before I could stop myself, I laughed. “No,” I said. “My father was a wizard. He started training me when I was four.”

  Patricia stopped rocking and tilted her head to look at me. It was as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle before picking up the first piece.

  “You sound like you don’t get along,” she said.

  I chuckled. “We butted heads for as long as I can remember,” I said. “I could bend reality and so could he.” I crossed and uncrossed my arms. I wanted to do something with my hands but there wasn’t anything to do. “He could be cold, distant. Compliments were rare with him.”

  “What made him start training you?”

  “I toppled our neighbor’s shed with a small earthquake.”

  Patricia laughed. Color returned to her cheeks. The frown lines went away. “Where’s your father now?” she asked

  It took a minute for me to answer. “Gone,” I told her. I looked at the floor of the porch. There was a tremble in my voice when I continued. “He paid for a mistake I made when I was sixteen.”

  The worry lines returned when Patricia looked at the front door. Her lip quivered for a few seconds.

  “James didn’t know any better,” I went on. “I didn’t know any better. That’s usually how we make those colossal mistakes.” I leaned forward and looked Patricia in the eyes. “Where is James’ father? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Gone,” she said, with the same note of finality I’d used. “Robert left on a work trip when he was two. Never came back.” She regarded me, suddenly suspicious. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I think his father was a wizard,” I said. “Unless you have family members who can do this kind of stuff.”

  She shook her head. “Not that I know of. Does that mean Terry...?”

  “I doubt it,” I said. “He would’ve done something about the spirit in your son.”

  Patricia broke eye contact with me for a minute or two, turning her attention to the barn. “Is that why you do what you do? Your father’s disappearance?”

  “Yes,” I said. “There were consequences for what happened. I do what I can to make ends meet.�
��

  My vision shifted unbidden, revealing the spiraling energies around Patricia Masters. Dark waves enveloped her body, but in the middle there were flashes of red and orange, pushing back the darkness with passion and vigor. When my vision returned to normal, I found Patricia staring at me.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Just the Vision,” I said. “Wizards get glimpses into the auras of others, seeing things that others can’t see. Mine pops up outside my control.” I sat back and thought for a few moments about the kaleidoscope of passions driving the woman in front of me. “Patricia, are you in a relationship right now?”

  “Yes,” she said, somewhat taken aback. “I’ve... I’ve been seeing someone for two years now. Why?”

  “Just thinking out loud. Sudden emotional changes could have triggered your son’s power.”

  Her rocking had slowed to a steady rhythm. “Will you teach my son? I can pay you.”

  “There’s more to it than that,” I said. “Teaching him not to set fire to everything in sight is easy. But becoming a wizard means he’ll become a target.”

  “Who would do that?” Her voice held a small quiver.

  “Anyone from my side of the world,” I said. “There’s more than just wizards. Shapeshifters, demons, fae, vampires... any one of them would love to sink their claws into a fledgling wizard.” I rose slowly and set my cane in front of me. “It won’t be easy to train him. But I can do it.”

  “I want to learn,” I heard a voice say. James had appeared at the doorway. He stepped carefully onto the porch. Looking to his mother, he said, “I’m sorry.”

  Patricia’s eyes teared up. “I’m not angry, James,” she said. “I love you. I’m just worried.”

  James walked over to his mother and put a hand on her shoulder. She placed her own hand over his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  “Will you teach me?” he asked.

  I breathed deeply. In for a penny, in for a pound. If I didn’t teach him how to harness his power, the Assembly would eventually send someone for him. Seph would see to that. If she was lucky, Patricia would see her son again sometime twenty years from now. If she wasn’t so lucky, she’d die not knowing if he were alive or dead. No parent should have to go through that.