“Didn’t have to do that,” said Tessa.
“What good’s money if you can’t throw it around an’ pretend to be a big shot,” said Odysseus with a chuckle. “So why didn’t Carraway come through?”
“The only thing he’s interested in is bringing Luther back from the dead. He kept stalling on my magic, said there were more important things to do first.”
“Seems if he helped you to start, then you could help him.”
“That’s what I said.” Tessa paused as the waiter arrived with their drinks. She sipped her beer and waited for him to leave, then continued. “But he wasn’t having any of it. He’s pretty much lost it. I think grief’s driven him off the deep end.”
“That so?”
Odysseus’ eyes studied her while his fingers stroked his beard. Tessa felt twitchy under his gaze, like he was examining her through a microscope. She wondered if he could see through her words, to the truth of what was happening.
“You seem…nervous,” said Odysseus.
Tessa took a large swig of her drink and sighed. “Can you blame me?”
Odysseus held his drink near the rim and rotated it, the ice cubes clinking against the sides of the glass. After doing that in silence for a few seconds, he took a gentle sip and set it back down on the table.
“I know what happened when Celeste and Raziel paid you a visit,” said Tessa.
“You and her close?”
“No, but she came to me for help with Luther not too long ago.”
“What’d you do?”
“Not a whole lot,” said Tessa. “Like I told you on the phone, my powers aren’t the same after Purgatory. That’s why I agreed to help Alistair.”
“He mention anything about the Sons?”
“They stopped by my place, if you can believe it,” said Tessa. “Alistair basically told them to fuck off.”
Odysseus’ eyebrow rose, the closest thing to an indication of any thought that may have been in his mind as Tessa spoke. Sometimes, sorcerers could tell if a person was lying. But just like a polygraph, it wasn’t a surefire way to know for certain. Depended on how big the lie and how unskilled the liar. The trick was to mix in enough truth that it acted as a disguise for the lie. And where your mind was at as you told the lie.
Tessa focused on her very real frustration dealing with Alistair while also telling the truth about some of the questionable things he’d done. Sprinkle in the stress she’d felt while trying to restore her magic and it all came together nicely.
“Now that you know all this, the question I want answered is can you help me?”
Odysseus didn’t answer right away. He took another sip of his drink and set the glass back down. For several moments he didn’t speak, just alternated between stroking his beard and sipping his drink.
“There are certain rituals I know of which can restore a broken connection to magic,” he finally said. “But the real question is what’s in it for me?”
“Don’t suppose I could convince you to do it out of the goodness of your heart?”
That earned a loud laugh from Odysseus. “Sweetheart, it ain’t Christmas and I sure as shit ain’t Santa Claus. No, that’s not how I work. You want my help, you pay the price, same as everyone else.”
“What’s the price?” asked Tessa. “I don’t have a whole lot of money, but…”
Odysseus waved a dismissive hand. “Money’s not what I want. What I want is something of value. And I don’t necessarily mean the monetary kind. Something that can benefit me.”
Tessa sighed. She had to try and play up the situation, make it look like she was offering Odysseus something she didn’t want to give. So she’d have to do a little song and dance routine for him first.
“I’ve got some ancient texts. Grimoires. One of a kind, very rare.”
He shook his head. “Chances are I’ve forgotten more about what’s in those books than you even know. They’re worthless to a guy like me.”
“I have some artifacts—”
“Good, sell them to a museum.”
Tessa huffed in feigned exasperation and took a sip of her beer. She closed her eyes and flared her nostrils briefly as she pretended to struggle with the decision.
“Okay,” she finally said. “There’s something I can give you. Or at least I can tell you where to go.”
“And what’s this?”
“Something Alistair let slip, about what he and Luther did before Luther’s death. Something very ancient and very powerful.”
Odysseus leaned back in his chair and sipped his drink. “You got my interest, darling. Continue.”
Tessa sucked on her teeth and took another drink. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this…”
“So far, this is the only thing you’ve mentioned that’s sparked any interest. Either tell me what you’re talking about, or I get up right this second and go on home.”
Tessa tapped her fingers, trying to maximize the idea that she was hesitating. Odysseus rolled his eyes and looked at his gold Rolex watch.
“One,” he said.
Tessa bit her lower lip, continuing to tap the table.
Odysseus sighed. “Two.”
She looked around the room, her eyes darting from side to side and up and down.
Odysseus drained his glass in a single gulp and slammed it on the table. “Three. I’m out.”
He stood and just as he started to turn away, Tessa rose and grabbed his arm.
“Wait!”
Odysseus turned his head and glanced down at her hand, then up to her face. He sighed and sat back down. Tessa hid her face in her hands and finally told him what he wanted to know.
“It’s not a thing,” she said.
“’Scuse me?” he asked.
“It’s not a thing, it’s a person,” said Tessa. “A very powerful, very ancient person.”
Odysseus gestured for her to continue.
“When Asmodeus came back to town, he brought someone with him, someone to help him take down Luther.”
“Who might that be?”
Tessa shook her head and shut her eyes. “Cain.”
“Interesting,” said Odysseus. “And how does this relate to our situation?”
“Alistair and Luther had to defeat Cain in order to get away. And they did.”
“Bullshit,” said Odysseus. “Cain can’t be defeated.”
“Yeah, he can.”
“You lyin’ to me, girl? Wastin’ my time to play some kinda game?” His tone became harsher, the volume of his voice starting to rise.
“No, I’m telling you the truth!” she pleaded. “Honest.”
“How the fuck could Cross and Carraway kill someone who’s unkillable?” asked Odysseus.
“I never said he was dead,” said Tessa. “Besides, if he were, that wouldn’t be of any interest to you, now would it?”
“No, you got me there,” said Odysseus. “So what are you sayin’ then?”
“He’s been trapped. Alistair did some sort of summoning ritual, managed to keep Cain locked in a building filled with restless spirits. And he’s still there now.”
“Hmm, that’s interesting,” said Odysseus.
“Think about it,” said Tessa. “You said it yourself, he can’t be killed and he’s damn-near unstoppable.”
“So the legends say.”
Tessa shook her head. “Not just legends. I fought by his side in Purgatory. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. He’s what you’d get if you crossed a Terminator with Wolverine.”
“That begs another question,” said Odysseus. “Now that I know he’s out there, what do I need you for?”
Tessa’s eyes bulged. “What?”
“If I employed the right rituals, I could probably find him without you. I mean, a building full of restless spirits? Should be able to track that down on my own.”
Shit! she thought to herself. If he left right now, Alistair wouldn’t have enough time to complete his part of the plan. Tessa had to find a way t
o keep him on the hook just a little bit longer. She racked her brain trying to think of something as Odysseus stood to leave.
“We had a deal!” she said. “I give you something and in exchange, you help me with my magic!”
“Problem is you told me too much, I can figure out the rest on my own. So you got nothin’ I need.”
“I do!”
Odysseus sighed. “Honey, now you’re just embarrassing yourself.”
“Cain trusts me!”
Odysseus’ eyebrow rose again. He studied her face and came closer to her. As he bent over, Tessa kept her eyes locked on his, never breaking contact for a second, never blinking.
“Is that so?” he asked.
Tessa nodded.
“And why, pray tell, would he trust you?”
“Because in Purgatory, we connected,” said Tessa. “When you’re in that kind of foxhole with someone, you’re talking about a bond on a completely different level.”
“And you’d be willing to talk to him on my behalf?” asked Odysseus.
“You need me to,” said Tessa. “Sure, you can find Cain on your own. You may even be able to break Alistair’s spell without my help. But Cain’s been refusing to play ball with both Heaven and Hell for a millennia. Why do you think they kept trying to lock him up in Purgatory? Why do you think nobody’s heard from him in over a century? You can’t control Cain. You can’t convince him. Not unless you have the help of someone he trusts.”
Odysseus took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“What?” asked Tessa. “You mean right now?”
He shrugged. “No time like the present. And I wanna be sure you ain’t shining me.”
20
Alistair had parked a few blocks away from Odysseus’ bar and traversed the rest of the distance on foot. He kept to the shadows and when he found a good vantage point across the street, took an extra precaution. Holding two fingers up, he held his hand in front of his face and slowly moved it down his body, then whispered the word, “Praestigia.”
It cast an illusion around his person, making him appear as if he were just an extension of the shadows cast by the alley. A town car eventually pulled up and Odysseus exited the bar, flanked by two men. They let him get in first then followed suit, and the car drove off.
While they were meeting with Tessa, Alistair could make his move. Odysseus was the biggest threat, but by no means the only one. There was still an entire bar’s worth of lycans to contend with. Even with the power to create illusions, they’d still smell Alistair the second he set foot inside the place, assuming they didn’t hear him first.
Alistair closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to see through the enchanted coin. He could sense three inside the bar in total. He knew he could lure at least one outside, maybe two at the same time. But he needed all of them cleared out.
There was one option he had, and that was to just set fire to the whole place, then try to work fast to get down to the basement, get the book, and get back out. It carried a huge risk and not one Alistair was comfortable taking.
Divide and conquer was the only option, but he couldn’t take too much time. There was no telling how long Tessa would be able to keep Odysseus busy. He’d draw them out one at a time.
Lycans were a persistent annoyance in many parts of the world, particularly in Europe. Over the years, werewolf hunters had developed tools to try and lure them out. One of those tools was a kind of dog-whistle. Was no surprise that lycans shared many qualities with their non-supernatural canine counterparts, and one of those was their hearing. They could hear frequencies human beings were incapable of registering, and that sound could draw them out.
Alistair stepped out from the alley and crossed the street. He walked towards the bar’s entrance and took the silver whistle from his jacket pocket. Placing it between his lips, he hesitated for a moment, and then blew into it.
He retreated into the alley beside the bar and waited. No one came at first, so he tried blowing into it again. A few moments passed and then he heard the sound of the locks turning and the heavy, metal door being pushed open.
Alistair pressed his body against the side of the building and watched. This lycan was in his human form, unsurprisingly. He stepped up to the curb and looked around. With his head held up in the air, he sniffed a few times. And that’s when he picked something up.
He turned left and walked towards the alley. Alistair edged himself deeper into the darkness, hoping his illusion would keep him secure a little longer. The lycan turned and walked down the alley. As he came down, Alistair readied himself. No doubt the lycan could smell him, but he needed him to be within reach.
The lycan stood and stared right at the spot where Alistair was hidden by the illusion. His lips curled away to reveal his elongating teeth and his eyes changed to a pale yellow hue. The lycan knew something was there, his senses told him that much.
Alistair had to move now. He dashed at the lycan and grabbed his arm. The lycan tried to pull away and began his transformation. But before he could finish, Alistair issued a single command.
“Dormio!”
The lycan’s eyes suddenly closed and he collapsed on the ground. Alistair took a deep breath. If only the sleep spell didn’t require physical contact, he would be able to do it on more than one at a time.
“One down…” he muttered, annoyed at the prospect of how long this was likely to take. There wasn’t any other way. He wasn’t spry enough to fight off two werewolves at once and didn’t want to risk the chance that one of them might notify Odysseus.
Alistair dragged the lycan out from the alley and into the road. He took a dagger from the sheath on his belt and cut into the lycan’s throat. The scent of blood would draw the others out soon enough.
He waited and the second lycan soon emerged in order to check on why his brother was taking so long. That, combined with the scent of blood, proved an effective attractant. Alistair watched and waited.
“Zack!”
He ran to his brother’s side and knelt down by him. After checking the wound, the lycan realized things weren’t quite what they seemed. The lycan stood, slightly hunched over, a growl issuing from his throat.
Alistair watched from the darkness. His next action was sure to bring the third running, but he had no real choice. Already this lycan was on alert and getting close enough to make physical contact might not have worked.
So instead, Alistair drew his gun and aimed it at him. Much like the gun Luther had carried when he was alive, the rounds were specially treated to prove deadly to the supernatural. The lycan issued a sound that sounded like a mixture of a chuckle and growl. He started to change, the hair emerging from his pores and his facial features transforming from human to wolflike.
Once the change was complete, the lycan rushed towards the alley. Alistair pulled the trigger and then he heard a yelp. He sighed and raised the gun, looking at the injured lycan lying on the ground.
In a neighborhood like Englewood, a single gunshot wouldn’t be enough to get someone to call the police. But it would probably draw the attention of the last remaining lycan in the bar. Alistair took the initiative and moved closer to the entrance.
He didn’t go in with the intention of killing anyone, but he knew if he left any witnesses, they’d tell Odysseus. Alistair moved towards the front door and aimed his gun, waiting for the right moment. Nothing yet. While keeping the gun aimed, he put the whistle between his lips and blew. Still no one came.
Alistair knew that if he tried to use the coin again, he’d essentially be turning his back on the door. By the time it would take him to make contact and view the building through the coin, the lycan could easily burst out and eviscerate him. His only option was to go in through the front.
He took a step towards the door, keeping the gun raised. Then another step. After the third and final step, he was within arm’s reach. Carefully, he held his free hand out, never wavering with the gun. Alistair pulled the door open
and stepped inside.
The bar looked empty. That could easily be a trick, though. Alistair moved carefully towards the door leading to Odysseus’ office. He opened it and stepped inside, checking his blindspots for anywhere the final lycan could be hiding.
Could be there was some mistake when he connected with the coin. Maybe he thought he saw three lycans when there were only two. But once inside Odysseus’ office, he realized that wasn’t the case.
Normally, the bookcases concealed the basement entrance, but not now. Either Odysseus had left the entrance open, or the last lycan was likely waiting for him down there.
Alistair moved slowly towards the entrance, staring into the darkness. Lycans could see in the dark, humans had no such benefit. He held up his free hand and said, “Lux.” An orb of light formed above his open palm and started to float in the air, moving down the staircase.
Before he could take another step, something struck Alistair from behind. He lost his footing and tumbled down the spiral staircase. Alistair tried to grab purchase, but failed in his efforts and continued to roll, his body quickly bruising against the stone steps.
He finally managed to stop about halfway down and looked up. The light orb floated near his face and through its slight illumination, Alistair could make out the form of the final lycan, snarling as he stood a few steps above.
“You really think I’d be stupid enough to leave the door open?” he asked. “I opened it up, then used my claws to hold onto the ceiling. Maybe next time you should try looking up.”
Alistair realized he’d drop the gun in the fall. He didn’t see it nearby and assumed it fell further down the steps. And he doubted he was fast enough to reach for the dagger before the lycan tackled him.
“Mr. Black let you leave here alive, that was his mistake,” said the lycan. “I’ll make sure to present him with your head on a stick.”
“Yes, good show, lad,” said Alistair as he wiped blood from his lips and unsteadily rose to his feet. “I mean, here you’re a big, bad werewolf. And you managed to kick the crap out of a sexagenarian.”
“The hell’s that?” asked the lycan. “Sex with vegetables or something?”
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