“Then how come the ones outside didn’t do anything?”
“It’s the concentration, mate,” Falcon replied, “helped by four walls and a ceiling. A man’s home is his castle after all.”
Ah, I was beginning to catch on. “So, what you’re saying is that Sally is an open flame and magic is kind of like gas fumes to her.”
“Crude, but effectively correct,” Falcon confirmed, although I couldn’t help but bristle at the dig. “Pull out a lighter in the general vicinity of a propane grill, for example, and not much will happen. Open all the ports on an oven in a sealed room, however, and it’s a different story.”
“Guess that means I should avoid the local Magi conventions,” Sally replied.
“No doubt. But that isn’t all there is to it, is it?” Falcon asked.
Sally shook her head then gave him a rundown on what had happened back at her place, leaving out a few minor details, such as the obviously shady cleanup crew.
“Hmm, so there appears to be a conscious element to it as well,” he concluded after a moment, “or a semiconscious one anyway.”
“Activated when she’s annoyed, it would seem,” I added, “which, just for the record, is pretty much how she usually is.”
Sally turned my way, her eyes narrowed behind the sunglasses that inexplicably still remained on her face. “Which you’re not helping much at the moment.”
“Don’t make me disinvite you to game night.”
“Oh no. Whatever shall I do?”
Falcon stepped in and put a hand on my chest, easing me back. “If annoyance is indeed the key to this power, then I might suggest it best to not antagonize her.”
“Bill’s not antagonizing me,” she said in response. “This is barely a slow Tuesday for us.”
“The bottom line is we simply don’t know enough,” Christy told Falcon, effectively steering us back on track from the tangents we seemed insistent on taking. “We have only the barest clue what triggers it, and that’s all. We don’t know what else she can do, if anything, the limits of her power, whether it’s dangerous to her, any of it. All we know is that something granted her these powers, powers that were meant for someone else.”
I nodded. “And which I’m thinking we’re all now really glad that certain someone else didn’t get.”
“Am I perhaps reaching in assuming this unnamed someone is the same Gansetseg you accused me of being in league with last night?”
“Accused is such a strong word.”
“The same,” Christy admitted, shooting me a look. “But what we talked about last night got me thinking. What if the thing she struck a deal with is ancient, like those a'chiad dé danann – something long since forgotten by man and Magi alike? If so, there’d be no mention of it even in our historical tomes, except perhaps the really old ones.”
“Kinda like how Cthulhu shows up in the original Deities and Demigods, but was cut from later editions?”
All eyes turned toward me for a moment. Geez, everyone is a critic when the gamer in the room speaks.
Falcon resumed talking to Christy, utterly ignoring me like the dick-biscuit he was. “And if this theoretical being was willing to make a deal with a mortal, to reignite the Source, it must have a vested interest in our world. Thus, if we can figure out what it is, we could possibly protect ourselves against whatever that vested interest might be.”
“And help our friend here.”
“Of course,” he replied, stroking his mustache. “Assuming such a thing is possible.”
“Excuse me?”
Ignoring me once again, he turned to Sally, his expression grim ... or as grim as it could be with that ridiculous dead otter on his face. “I’m sorry to have to say this, but it’s best if you understand upfront. Some power simply cannot be controlled, merely contained. And once a person is touched by it...”
“They’re fucked?” Sally replied, sounding strangely nonplussed by his premonition of doom and gloom. “Story of my life. What else is new?”
“Not going to happen,” I said. “We’ll find a way to fix this.”
She smirked. “And if you can’t, I guess I can just take over the world.”
Falcon didn’t seem to appreciate her sense of humor, but I was happy to feed into it. “Have you seen Washington lately? Doubt you could do worse.”
“Exactly.”
“The point is,” Christy said, once again steering this rudderless ship back onto the straight and narrow, “we still don’t know where Gansetseg is, so we need an alternate source of knowledge to combat whatever she did. We need access to the Falcon Archives.”
All eyes turned to Falcon, a few of them aimed at spots other than his face. Grrr! He, in turn, fell silent, an unreadable expression upon his mustachioed mug. He stepped away, toward one of the piles of debris left in the wake of Sally’s little outburst. Digging through it for a moment, he pulled out a t-shirt, dusted it off, and then put it on. Of course it was skintight, doing nothing to make the situation better. Fucking A! Where was this guy’s uptight prim and proper British attitude when you needed it?
“Kindly take off your glasses and sit over there,” he finally said to Sally.
After a moment, she did as asked, picking up an overturned stool and taking a seat upon it.
Falcon bent down slightly and began to circle her position, studying her as if there was going to be a quiz later.
“Take a picture, it lasts longer.”
Apparently, he seemed to agree with my advice, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and tapping the screen as he continued to circle her.
“What are you...?”
But Christy silenced me with a quick, “Let him work.”
Not one to take good advice when it was given to me, I stepped in nevertheless and took a peek over Falcon’s shoulder.
“What’cha doing?”
In response, he quickly lowered the phone again, turning off the screen in the process. “Do you mind?”
I held up my hands and backed away a step. “Just making sure you’re not taking any upskirts to jerk off to later.”
“Like you’ve never tried,” Sally said with a scoffing laugh.
I spun back toward Christy to find her eyes narrowed. Oh crap. “She’s just joking. I mean I never...” That might’ve been a bit of a lie, but now seemed a poor time for the whole honesty is the best policy schtick.
After a few more minutes of Falcon circling Sally like some sort of smarmy mustachioed shark, he turned to the rest of us. “I think I have what I need here. I’ll be in touch if I discover anything useful.”
Christy shared a quick glance with me, for the moment looking just as confused as I was. “I’m not sure I follow. We came here to ask for...”
“Access to the Falcon Archives, I know,” he replied. “But you must understand the archive is considered one of the most valued treasures of the Magi community, as well as one of its most highly guarded. There are tomes contained within that absolutely must not fall into the hands of the average lay person, much less some of the maniacs out there.”
Oh yeah, this guy wasn’t full of himself at all. Listening to him talk, I was reminded of the Templar, the group of holier than thou assholes Vincent used to belong to, convinced that they and they alone were the guardians of God’s scripture.
“Except I’m neither an average lay person nor a maniac,” Christy said, her voice tight in the way it used to get when she was preparing to chew Tom a new asshole. “I’m a Mentor in my own right.”
“I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t,” Falcon replied smoothly.
“If this is about what was said last night...”
“Not at all. I’m speaking of established protocol, nothing more. The simple fact of the matter is that few of our number are granted access to the archives at any given time, and that is only after a lengthy application, review, and background check. There’s a rigorous vetting process, not to mention the need for positive testimonials from noted Mentors and Hi
gh Mentors alike.”
“Huh, and I thought the vampire nation loved their bureaucracy,” Sally remarked, putting her sunglasses back on.
“Fine,” Christy said after a moment. “Tell me what you need. I counseled a lot of our people during the years we were powerless. I’m sure they’d be happy to vouch for my credentials.”
“Alas, that’s an issue unto itself. Any Magi who fell upon hard times during the quiet years would automatically be considered suspect and thus unreliable in their testimony. As for those who weren’t...”
There came an uncomfortable pause during which Sally gave me a warning look, although I had a feeling it wasn’t directed at me.
“Who weren’t what?” Christy asked.
“Christine, you ... how do I put this gently? You developed a bit of a reputation back before the Source fell. I believe one of our very own High Mentors accused you of treason. Then there was that kerfuffle with your former Mentor, Mr. Decker.” He held up his hands in a placating manner, as if realizing he was venturing into dangerous territory. “I understand your motives, believe me. I lost my family to that nasty business, something that wouldn’t have happened had they the foresight to question the White Mother’s return as you did. Yet, the vetting protocol remains.”
“So, you’re saying I’m not qualified?” The temperature in the room seemed to drop about thirty degrees.
Heh. Guess being rich, good looking, and British didn’t automatically preclude one from shoving their expensive loafers down their own throat. Good to know.
“I’m saying it would likely take some time to grant you clearance, time, I dare say, that we simply do not have. Your friend here, if I am not mistaken, has been chosen, whether willingly or not, to be the Earthly avatar of a being lost to time. Now, I don’t pretend to understand the whims of the myriad forces beyond the veil, but very few myths are known for expounding on the patience of the entities they’re based upon. Thus, I am offering to lend my time in helping research the issue for you, so we can all come to a satisfactory conclusion before things get further out of hand.”
Though he tried to keep his words diplomatic, there was a take it or leave it quality to his voice that Christy no doubt picked up on. The look on her face said it all: she wanted nothing better than to give this fucker a piece of her mind, but he had us over a barrel.
So, instead of blasting him – verbally or otherwise – she simply nodded after a moment and said, “Thank you, Mentor Falcon. We appreciate any and all help you can provide. All I ask is that you keep us in the loop.”
“Of course. I’ll make every effort to. However, I do have a request of my own to make.”
“Please speak it.”
I couldn’t help but notice that Christy had fallen back into the formal speech her people seemed to favor during their ceremonies – probably to keep from losing her shit.
“One moment please.”
Falcon stepped to another pile of debris, the remains of a desk from the look of things. He rooted through it for a few moments before returning with something in his grasp.
He handed it over to Sally, giving us a chance to get a good look at it.
Oh crap. We’re all gonna die.
“I’m afraid I must insist you wear this.”
“Is that...?”
Sally’s tone instantly turned every bit as icy as Christy’s, maybe even a few degrees frostier, but Falcon cut her off. “Yes. It’s similar to the bracelets required by those under house arrest, magically reinforced – albeit hopefully not enough to set off your ... condition. Rest assured, you are not actually under arrest. But I will need a way to find you if the situation warrants it.”
“Why not just use a fucking cell phone like everyone else?”
“Because I’m afraid this goes beyond that. Mobiles can be forgotten or turned off. That, alas, is unacceptable, at least until such time as I can narrow down the identity of the entity who has enchanted you.”
“You can take your fashion accessory and shove it up your...”
“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. As a Mentor of my people and, more importantly, a duly deputized official representing the New York Police Department, I must insist.”
♦ ♦ ♦
As Sally’s previous episode seemed to have been triggered by annoyance, I had no idea how she managed to show the restraint necessary to let us walk away from this situation alive.
Nevertheless we did, with her wearing the tracking bracelet and looking none too pleased about it.
At the same time, the implied threat had been hard to dismiss. I’m pretty sure neither of us gave a single solitary shit as to what the Magi wanted, our close friends aside. However, making an enemy of the NYPD was not in our best interest. Yes, according to Falcon, the old treaty between New York and the vampire nation had been reinstated, but that no longer applied to Sally as she now clearly fell into the “other” category – the kind he’d been brought in to assess and, if necessary, deal with.
It was exactly as I’d feared when Christy had contacted him about this issue. He was waving around his weight as a duly appointed representative of the city, here on assignment to stamp out potentially dangerous things. The message was loud and clear. The only person keeping Sally from being listed as one of those things was Falcon, and if we wanted to keep it that way, we’d need to play ball.
So it was that we walked away from the docks with seemingly little to show for our efforts, save giving a stranger the ability to track my friend like a chipped dog. Yet I couldn’t help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction.
Despite the fact that Falcon had us over the proverbial barrel, I’d gotten everything I’d hoped for from this meeting.
Now to see if I could make use of it.
A SLIGHT DETOUR
“Will you stop staring at me. I told you, I have it under control.”
“And yet Falcon’s warehouse says otherwise, not that I had a problem with you trashing the shit out of it.”
“I kind of got that impression.” Sally held up her arm, the one with the rather unfashionable accessory attached to it. “Listen. I know why I’m inclined to dislike that guy, but what’s your beef with him?”
“I just don’t like his attitude.”
“Uh huh. Let me guess. You’re worried that Christy is going to consider all the things you don’t bring to the table, then she’s going to look at him with his rock hard abs, money, and magical mastery, and realize she could easily upgrade to first class seating?”
Motherfucker! “No.”
“I thought so. Small dick syndrome at its finest.”
“I do not have a small dick!”
All in all, I probably could have picked a better time to shout that than while still in the relatively crowded 86th Street subway station.
Hurrying up to the drizzly streets above, I said, “Getting back to the point at hand, how can you be sure you have it under control?”
“First off, we just took mass transit without killing every single annoying asshole on our train, but mostly because I’ve been thinking about what happened with what’s his face.”
“Stewart?”
“Yeah, him.”
“And?”
“And, I’m beginning to think it was a bit more than base annoyance. I mean, otherwise, I’d have leveled the entirety of the Metro system on the way there and back.”
“All things considered, probably a reasonable conclusion.”
♦ ♦ ♦
We’d split up shortly after leaving Falcon’s formerly pristine abode. Christy was still in a snit over his refusal to grant her access to the archives, even though she claimed she wasn’t. Color me skeptical, especially since she’d answered my inquiry about how she was doing with, “fine,” – in that tone females used when they’re actually at DEFCON 1.
Thankfully it didn’t appear aimed at me this time.
Before going our separate ways, we’d taken a moment to gather our thoughts and discuss things. Neit
her of us wanted to leave Sally alone, both for the safety of others as well as her own now that Falcon had her in his personal Find My Friends app. A quick examination by Christy was enough to conclude that the perp bracelet he’d given her was warded in ways designed to discourage its removal.
Taking it off might’ve hurt Sally or it might’ve discharged enough magic to cause her to go all Mount St. Helens again, which probably would’ve been a bad thing in a crowded city.
Truth of the matter was Christy was probably best suited to keep Sally company, being that she had half a clue. Problem was, she also had Tina, or would in a few short hours. Christy’s place was warded up the ass, yet none of us was willing to bet that it would be sufficient to keep Tina from exuding enough residual magic to set Sally off.
I had a feeling we might’ve gotten lucky that first time. Maybe Sally’s body had still been waking up from its extended power nap. The damage inflicted to Falcon’s warehouse, though, had been a magnitude beyond that. If it occurred again, who knew what could happen?
That meant I was once again elected for babysitting duty, not that I minded in the least.
Sally minded, though, especially once I suggested we head back to my place in Brooklyn. Thing was, her home was currently still full of vampires who were now absolutely terrified of her. That would need to be remedied and soon, but for the moment I suggested a time out might be beneficial for both parties.
Sally, proving that – despite her assertions otherwise – she hadn’t fully regressed back to her old kill them all and let God sort it out ways, agreed ... for now anyway.
♦ ♦ ♦
“Shit!”
“What is it?” Sally asked, as I stopped on the sidewalk.
“Tom’s home.”
“So?”
I’d been so busy thinking of the lack of ambient magic at my place that I hadn’t considered the other part of the equation. “So ... I know you said you think it was more than mild annoyance which set you off, but at the same time he’s been known to...”
Bill of the Dead (Book 2): Everyday Horrors Page 17