by Derek Landy
A man appeared at the window above, leaning out, talking to Kaiven. A man in his fifties, balding. Jackie Earl.
“And we have our target,” Tanith murmured. “You’d better head over to Annis, give her some encouragement. Let Jack and Sabine take care of the gunmen – you focus on Kaiven. He’s the only one who’ll pose a problem.”
“I still don’t like you going after the bow alone.”
“You don’t think I can handle one little mobster? Please.” She kissed him. “Go on now, scoot.”
Looking decidedly unimpressed, Sanguine disappeared into the wall, and Tanith turned back to Earl as he closed his window.
From where she crouched on the roof, hidden in darkness like she was, Annis could peer down into the courtyard and remain completely invisible. She watched the men walk with their guns slung over their shoulders, even caught bits and pieces of their conversation. Not very interesting stuff.
She heard something behind her and fixed a smile on to her face, but it was only Sanguine.
He frowned at her. “What’s wrong with your mouth?”
“Nothing,” she muttered.
“Have you had a seizure?”
“It’s nothing.” God, he annoyed her. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it have been Jack? Then they could have crouched here, in the dark, waiting to kill people, and it would have been romantic. Jack wouldn’t have asked whether her smile was a seizure, she knew that much.
Or maybe he would have. There was no point lying to herself. She’d seen how he looked at that little blonde thing, Sabine. At first she’d mistaken the look in his eyes for hunger. Sabine was a tasty morsel, it had to be said. She was a meal waiting to happen. Annis herself had fantasised about it. It was perfectly natural. She wasn’t ashamed of her urges.
But the more she saw them together, the less sure she was that it was hunger in Jack’s eyes. Or at least that kind of hunger. Maybe it was a hunger of a different sort. And that little piece of trash, that floozy, that Jezebel, that blonde harlot, was stringing Jack along like this was all a game. Anger burned in Annis’s throat.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” Sanguine asked.
She blinked at him. “Whu?”
“Get your head in the game, Annis. You got a job to do.”
“I know,” she snapped. “I just have... things on my mind.”
“Do us all a favour and focus, all right? You’re the starter’s pistol. You go down there, cause a distraction like only you can do. That’s the signal for Jack and Sabine to start picking off the mortals and for Tanith to go after the bow.”
“Where’s the vampire?”
“There’s a reinforced door down the other side of this courtyard – I’m assuming that’s where they keep the vamp. They’ll release it soon after you make yourself known, so be ready. And if you see a guy with a wand, leave him alone. He’s mine.”
Annis peered downwards. “How am I supposed to get down there?”
“Tanith said something about that,” Sanguine told her. “Let’s see, what was it? Something about the element of surprise. Oh, yeah, I remember.”
He put a hand on her back and pushed, and Annis was suddenly tumbling, arms flailing as she fell, skirt up around her head. The ground came to meet her and its embrace was not soft. She bounced, rolled and lay there on her back, gasping, struggling to breathe. She looked straight up and saw Sanguine, waving down at her. Her skin started turning blue.
She heard running footsteps, getting closer, and forced herself to sit up, gritting teeth that were already lengthening in her mouth. Her fingernails were growing too. Moaning slightly, she got to her feet as half a dozen men ran up, guns in their hands. When they saw her, the men at the front pulled up short, and the ones behind ran into them. There was much cursing and shoving, but they all turned silent when her jaw popped, allowing her teeth to grow to their full size.
Black Annis stood before them, blue-skinned and wild-haired, fingernails click-clacking together and saliva dribbling down her chin.
“What the hell is that?” one of the men whispered.
Another man raised his gun. It trembled in his grip. “A monster,” he said.
Annis snarled.
The men spread out from each other, forming a line. Annis looked down the barrels of all those guns. She didn’t like guns. Guns hurt.
A man with a silly moustache was the first to pull the trigger. The bullet hit her in the shoulder. The others fired, then, and she staggered, bullets slamming into her torso, her legs, her head. She pitched backwards, the hard ground embracing her once again.
The gunfire stopped. The last cartridge did a little dance on the ground and went still. The smell of cordite filled the air like smog.
“Is it dead?” one of the men asked.
“I don’t know,” another answered. “Go over and check.”
“I’m not going over,” the first man said. “You go over. I’ll cover you.”
“You’re a terrible shot.”
“I’m better than you. I got three headshots there. You shot its ankle.”
“I did not.”
“You did,” said another man. “I saw it. You’re a really bad shot, Paulie. Also, your breath stinks and you wear ugly ties.”
The man named Paulie didn’t respond to that for a moment. Then he said, “You guys suck.”
“Ah, Paulie...”
“Paulie, come on...”
“No, shut up. My wife buys me these ties, you know she does, and you know she’s colour-blind and not that bright. And I’m sorry if my breath stinks or I’m not the best shot in the world. But I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends, Paulie.”
“Friends forgive each other the little things. But fine, if you want me to check on the dead monster, I’ll check on the dead monster. We wouldn’t want any blood to get on any of your ties, would we?”
Paulie came forward slowly. He stood over Annis and prodded her with his foot. Then he hunkered down.
“It’s really ugly,” he said. “But I think it’s a she.” He sounded puzzled. “And I can’t see any blood.”
Annis opened her eyes and Paulie jerked back, but her nails were already skewering his face. She heard the others cry out, heard them panic and reload. There was nothing they could do now, though. They were already dead, they just didn’t know it yet.
She threw Paulie aside and sprang to her feet, charging them as they backed away. Every swipe brought a cry of pain and a spray of blood. One of them grabbed her and she took his arm off. Another fired point-blank into her head and caught the ricochet in his own chest. They screamed and begged and slipped on blood and Annis took the last man’s head off with a single bite.
She was aware of alarms and distant shouts, and then a growling. She turned. The vampire stalked towards her. Bone-white and hairless. Big black eyes. Big teeth. A monster. Just like her.
It sprang at her and Annis went down, snarling. Claws tore at her, fangs tried ripping her throat open, but that blue skin of hers was as tough as any armour. They rolled over and over, the world doing crazy tilting somersaults all around them. Compared to her own blue hide, the vampire’s alabaster skin was soft and tender, and her teeth cut through it with ease. The vampire shrieked and twisted, its claws raking across her face, almost taking out one of her eyes. The vampire was suddenly free, but she reached out, grabbed its foot, brought it down when it tried to leap away. She crawled over it, her claws leaving bloody furrows in its flesh, and its shrieks reached a new pitch of desperation and raw fear as she crawled up towards its neck.
*
Jack was happy. He whirled and twirled and killed and mobsters died all around him, and tucked back there, out of harm’s way, was Sabine, watching it all. He tried not to show off, honest he did, but every now and then he’d catch himself killing with an unnecessary flourish or making a hilarious joke.
Like after a quick disembowelling: “That took guts!”
Or after he tor
e out a throat: “That’s put an end to your singin’ career!”
Or his favourite, after he’d plunged his fingers into the eyes of a gunman: “Hey, you got somethin’ in your eye... oh yeah, it’s me!”
Hilarious, each and every one. He didn’t even have to look back to just know that Sabine was impressed.
Life was good for Springheeled Jack.
Sanguine rose up from the ground, snapped a goon’s neck and watched Kaiven and two other gunmen turn to him. “We’re just here for the bow,” he said.
“You shall not pass,” Kaiven thundered, raising his wand.
Sanguine lowered his head. “Please,” he said, “have a little dignity. There are mortals present.”
“Indeed there are,” said Kaiven, “and they will open fire if you take one more step. You are not leaving here with the bow. I don’t think my boss is ready to part with it just yet. Maybe if you come back in a few decades, after he’s dead...”
“This is disgusting,” Sanguine said. “Look at you, taking orders from a mortal. What the hell’s wrong with you?”
Kaiven raised an eyebrow. “Ah, you’re one of them, are you? The sorcerers who believe themselves somehow superior to the dominant species on the planet?”
“No I ain’t,” Sanguine replied, “but I’d still never take orders from a man who couldn’t kill me in a fair fight.”
“What can I say? I like my job, and the pay is good. I’ve been living in a Temple for the last few decades. My bedroom was a cold cell with a bunk and a privy. You really think that’s any way for a grown man to live in this day and age? Now that I’m out, I have an apartment, and a jacuzzi, and a television that takes up an entire wall that is also a computer.
“I watch things now. Shows. Gilmore Girls. Have you seen it? I watch the reruns on my television. They talk so fast on that show. I’ve never known anyone to talk so fast, except on The West Wing. The Wire. I’ve watched that as well. Harrowing stuff, but I watched it. And Buffy. Now there was a show. Firefly, too. Cancelled before its time, that one. And all of this is provided to me by mortals. So, yes, I take my orders from a man with a limited lifespan, because I’m a part of this world now. And part of my job is making sure that people like you don’t get their hands on my boss’s toys. So leave here right now with all of your blood on the inside, where it’s supposed to be. This is your only warning.”
Sanguine didn’t move for a moment, then snapped his head up. “I’m sorry, what? I dozed off for a moment there. Have we reached the part where I kill you yet?”
Kaiven sighed. “You obviously have no intention of listening to reason.”
Sanguine showed him his teeth. “Reason is the last thing I’d want to listen to.”
anith slipped through the window the moment she heard the first shot. Earl’s apartment was lined with books and everything was dark wood and big, heavy and solid. An impressive apartment for a mobster. The bow rested in a cradle nailed to the wall. She crossed the carpeted floor. More gunshots now, and alarms started wailing. When she was done, she went to the door, heard footsteps. She pressed her back to the wall and the door opened. Jackie Earl hurried in, went straight for the bow.
Tanith closed the door with a soft click. She’d only taken her eyes off Earl for a moment – but when she looked back, he was standing there with an arrow nocked and aimed at her belly.
“How did you get in here?” he asked.
“I have a way with locks,” she said.
He observed her without any panic showing in his eyes. “Tanith Low.”
“You know me?”
“Good girl gone bad. Got one of those things, those Remnants, inside you. Rotten luck.”
She shrugged. “Depends on your point of view.”
“I know all about all of you. What, you think all of us mere mortals live in the dark? I’ve known there was magic in the world for years. Finally tracked down one of you, found out sorcerers are just like the rest of us. They like money and an easy life just as much as anyone. It kind of ruined the mystique when he started calling me sir, though. But hey, that’s what money’ll do to you.”
“And you haven’t gone public with any of this?”
“What would be the point? If people knew you existed, the whole world would change – maybe the Feds would even recruit some of you, set up a sorcerer task force to take down organised crime. No, I got no interest in outing you people. But I do like your toys.”
Tanith smiled. “Then you know why I’m here.”
“You can’t have my bow. As you can see, I’m using it.”
“Not even if I ask nicely?”
“Not even. It’s just too handy. I’m not that good a shot – but all I have to do is point and release. Why would I ever give up something like that?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you?” Tanith suggested.
He chuckled. “And if you were closer to me with your sword drawn, I would definitely take you seriously.”
“Well, if I can’t threaten you, how about I bargain with you? How much will you sell it for?”
“It’s not for sale.”
“Of course it is.”
“Not for a price you could afford.”
“Mr Earl, you must realise that there is no way I’m leaving Chicago without that bow. You must know this.”
He nodded. “I figured as much.”
“Then you know I’ll either be taking the bow after paying you, or taking the bow and wiping your blood off my boots.”
“I know how dangerous you are, Miss Low. I know how dangerous your friends are. I’ve been listening to it all in my earpiece. You’ve all manner of monsters down there, don’t you?”
“And I didn’t even bring my vampire.”
“I have no wish to go to war with you over this. So if I have to kill you to finish this right here and now, I’ll kill you.”
“With all my friends outside? Really?”
He answered her smile with one of his own. “What’s that on your back?”
“My sword.”
“No, Miss Low, not the sword. What’s in the bag?”
She hesitated, then ever so slowly reached up, pulled the bag away from her shoulder. The bow’s drawstring tightened.
“Easy,” she said, and unzipped the bag halfway. She showed him the bow within.
Earl laughed. “You were going to switch them? Oh, I have to say – that is clever. That is some clever thinking you’ve got going on, Miss Low. I’m impressed.”
“Why thank you, Mr Earl. You wouldn’t want to swap by any chance, would you?”
“Very nice of you to offer, but I think I’ll stick with the original.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
“So what’s it going to be? Do I kill you, or let you walk out of here? You’d better make up your mind fast – it’s taking quite a lot of effort to not shoot you.”
She kept her eyes on that arrow. It was starting to tremble. “You’d let me walk out of here? After getting so close and killing so many of your men?”
“They knew the risks,” said Earl. “Yes, I’d let you go. I wouldn’t advise ever setting foot in Chicago again, though.”
The arrow was really trembling now. She didn’t much like the idea of seeing it fly.
“I think I’ll take you up on your offer,” she said, stepping away from the wall and opening the door. “One piece of advice, though. There’ll be another group of sorcerers stopping by, going after the same thing. You’d be doing me a big favour if you hid the bow and didn’t let them get their hands on it.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“No problem. One professional to another, and all that.”
She went to leave.
“Miss Low?”
She looked back.
“You wouldn’t want a job, would you? I have more Necromancers arriving tomorrow, but someone of your skills could go far in this racket.”
She smiled. “You’re sweet, and I appreciate the offer, but I
have a racket of my own to get back to. You take care now, Mr Earl. And keep that bow safe.”
She left, hurrying down the corridor. Around the next corner, his back to her, was a man with a gun with one hand pressed to his earpiece.
“Say again,” said the man. “How many? Hello? Hello, can you hear me?”
Tanith kicked him in the side of the head. He crumpled and she took his earpiece, listened to the static and the chatter and then Earl’s voice.
“There’s a woman,” she heard him say. “Brown leather, blonde hair. Sword on her back. Kill her. Shoot her on sight. Do not let her escape.”
Tanith left the unconscious man and walked on. Mobsters. Just can’t trust them.
She dispatched two more on her way down. At the bottom of the stairs was the main warehouse area. There were goons with guns in here, too, but it was no trouble to avoid them by walking along the ceiling. She flipped to the ground and approached the door, and slowed. The exit was right there, waiting for her, but it was open. Exposed. The kind of place that begged for an ambush.
She risked a peek. The body of a gunman lay crumpled. She peeked to the other side, saw another dead gunman. Smiling a little, she passed through, wary of traps, but feeling confident. Her phone buzzed.
“Cleaning up here,” said Sanguine. “You about done?”
“I’m outside,” she said. “Thanks for taking care of that ambush for me.”
There was a pause, sounds of a scuffle, and then a yelp of pain and then Sanguine was back. “What ambush was that?”
“The two guys waiting for me to poke my head out,” she said.
“As much as I like impressing you, that wasn’t me. Jack, maybe?”
She frowned. “No, there’s no blood.”
“It wasn’t Annis,” said Sanguine. “She’s been over this side of the compound the whole time.”
“Maybe we have our very own guardian angel or something, like a patron saint of killers.”
“We already got one of those.”
“We do?”
“Yep. And like anyone worth anything, he’s a Southern boy like me. Did you get the bow?”