More bones broke and broke again as I hit the concrete. I rolled a painful retreat, using the time to check our surroundings. Hidden behind a minivan and invisible to the road thanks to a retaining wall, I transmogrified my flesh to essence and back to restored flesh.
The shamble stomped my back.
Most shambles I’d faced would’ve taken the opportunity to flee, trusting camouflage and glamour to lose me.
I rolled toward the beast and thrust Gherrian’s blade into its torso. Energy sheathing the blade flared through the faerie like nuclear fire. Souls filled my head with ear-splitting shrieks most mortals couldn’t hear.
The blade’s corona intensified, dragging anguished souls into itself. The guard bubbled and shifted, liquid yet metal. Faces of the shamble’s victims filled in blank spaces on the hilt, their features bent in torment as they receded into the metal to leave only eyes behind.
I stared, my soul colder than the night I’d spent in Antarctica.
My gaze came up, fixating on the scattered remains of the destroyed shamble. For a moment, I empathized, feeling just as scattered as the dead faerie.
4: Seeds of a Trap
Ignis
Ignis returned to his Camaro with another two fire extinguishers. He propped them on his bumper and dug another nested, three-chamber disk from the toolbox in his trunk. He applied Gorilla glue to its base, careful not to block any of the holes exposing the encapsulated ashes to air. He attached the disk to the extinguisher’s bottom, repeated the process and carried both back to the restaurant.
The restaurant manager accepted an extinguisher with a frown. “I don’t understand, inspector, we just had those certified three months ago.”
“New regulation.” Ignis shrugged, handing another over. “Politicians love to tweak rules. This alteration doesn’t affect their certification and it’s free. So, just hang them back up.”
Ignis finished adjusting the other extinguishers and bought a to-go order for a late lunch or early dinner. He stepped into twilight, inhaling deeply to test the new seeds. Garlic, almond chicken made his stomach rumble. He popped a piece into his mouth and settled in behind the Camaro’s wheel.
“How’s does that look, Ani?”
“That mends the last hole for that sector, though we’re still a little thin on the eastern edge.”
“I already seeded that area.” He gobbled another chunk, pulling a plastic fork from inside a napkin roll and attacking the accompanying angel hair.
“The shortage is not yours, Ignis.”
He swallowed a too big bite in his rush to fill the ache in his stomach, scratching his throat. “How’s Quayla?”
“Her nest is full and she is recovering slowly, but headquarters has felt like a demilitarized zone since yesterday,” Anima said.
Vitae should’ve tasked her to handle her paramour. Taking it upon himself and with such vitriol only worsens the rift among us.
Ignis shook his head.
Should’ve gotten myself a drink too.
“We have a Veil breech six blocks north of you,” Anima said.
“We just patched that area.” His attention shot to the small archangel, one arm pointing the direction. He clumsily closed the to-go container and dropped it to the passenger floorboards. “Always when I’m eating or in the bath.”
He pulled out in a rush, causing a near collision with a driver that’d whipped around the corner without slowing. Ignis left the blaring horn behind a layer of rubber, slapped his emergency light on the dashboard beside the angel statuette, and turned on his siren.
“You bathe?” Anima asked.
Ignis chuckled. “You’re hanging out with Caelum too much. His influence on you is becoming problematic.”
“We have a second Veil breech in the alley north of the first location,” Anima said.
Ignis took a hard right, whipping around a taxi dropping off its passenger. The archangel figurine pressed both hands over its face.
“Not sure how I can minimize my contact with Caelum,” Anima said. “I’m stationary.”
“Touché.” He pulled to a halt in front of a hydrant near the mouth of an alley leading to the detected breach. Ignis threw his inspector’s parking card onto his dash, grabbed his weapon rod, and leapt from the car.
“Take caution, Shield Ignis. Do you require backup?”
He called over his shoulder as he ran. “If you don’t hear from me in fifteen minutes, call in the cavalry.”
He charged up the alley behind a force of elves, pixies and gnolls. The screech of hasty breaks and sounds of crashing metal filled the air ahead of him. Another Sidhe force poured out of the far alley—goblins, Unseelie elves and a two-story ogre. The two factions crashed into each other. The ogre seized and hurled cars—at least one occupied—from his path in his hurry to reach his enemies.
Damn peace-preserving conventions.
Heat kindled beneath his skin. He pushed it into his weapon. Flame danced out both ends, curving back toward him. Twin sparks shot from the ends toward one another joining in the center. He pulled back the bow string, detaching a starburst mote of his essence and extending one point into a long, feathered shaft.
I hate warning shots.
He loosed the arrow above them. The starburst head exploded like a July skyrocket.
“By the Undying Light, I command you to repair this damage, Glamour your appearance and retreat back beyond the Veil.”
The ogre threw a jogger and her dog at Ignis.
Ignis threw himself forward, building power as he ran. He leapt, transmogrifying mid-air to catch both in extended wings. Force threw the three of them backward. He hit the ground as a man, woman and dog in either arm. He charged forward once more. Essence extended from one end of his rod into a flaming scimitar.
The dog—leash free of his owner’s hand—chased Ignis down the alley with excited barks. Gnolls turned toward the offensive animal, growling objections to whatever it barked.
“I warned you.” Ignis’s blade quartered the first gnoll. He turned it on the second. “By my authority as Shield Ignis, I sentence you to summary punishment.”
An elven blade intercepted his, bright magic holding off Ignis’s flaming edge. Blades clashed. The second gnoll thrust a barbed spear at his gut. He parried a low cut, sidestepped the spear and ignited the gnoll’s forearm with a nimbus-shrouded hand.
A second elven knight leapt to his companion’s aide. A hurled goblin slammed into the elf’s back as she lunged at Ignis. The flame phoenix took advantage, decapitating goblin and elf with an upward sweep that beat the first elf’s own head cut upward out of its desired path.
An Unseelie knight stabbed a serrated blade shimmering with dark magic into the first elf. Ignis cut at its arms, weapon deflecting off enchantment-shrouded bracers. The Unseelie swept its blade up in a salute, separating his sword into two lighter blades and engaging both the injured Seelie and Ignis. Pain sliced across Ignis then up his veins as the poisonous magic sank into him.
The wafer’s little dog jumped around the fight, yapping and growling with an annoyance factor far outweighing its size.
Ignis batted aside a strike, leaping backward in a series of end over end flips. He transmogrified in the last flip, burned the magical venom from his system, and transmog’d back. He landed off balance, dropping to one knee as he wrenched a mote of essence from himself and fired an arrow into a charred, charging gnoll.
A massive blurred shadow entered Ignis’s peripheral vision with a roar. He rolled sideways, imagining a colossal ogre fist hammering him into the street. He unleashed another arrow at a goblin already lined up in his sights before shifting the weapon back into a scimitar.
Blood exploded in bursts of green and violet as the shape split into two parts. The first flipped into the air, wings appearing then disappearing as quiet bullets spit at faerie in triplets. The motorcycle slammed into several goblins and the ogre.
“Nice to see you,” Ignis charged the Unseelie knight.
<
br /> Caelum dropped his machine pistols and pulled twin M1911 semi-automatics. “You didn’t tell me we had a party on the calendar tonight.”
“Fire is often unpredictable.” Ignis jumped back out of the knight’s slash, twisting to avoid goblin javelins.
Caelum blew holes in two goblins then double shot an elven skull. “Pity our opponents aren’t.”
“Aren’t those guns outmoded?” Ignis said.
“Says the guy who uses a sword,” A goblin shortsword slashed Caelum. He grimaced, shooting it in return. “Besides, some things never go out of style.”
An ogre fist came a feather’s breadth from reducing Caelum into bread dough.
“Any others on the way?” Ignis said.
“I was scouting a research location not too far away,” Caelum shot Ignis’s opponent in the back of his helmet, painting Ignis in violet. “Ani said you might need a hand.”
“We’re going to need a lot of rewrites,” Ignis hamstrung a Seelie elf trying to flank an Unseelie.
“Wouldn’t want Summus to feel unneeded.” Caelum reloaded, pausing to slam hot steel into a goblin nose. “You know we’d be in trouble if they teamed up against us.”
The remaining Seelie and Unseelie exchanged glances. They charged together.
“In future,” Ignis took a thrust to the gut and answered by severing the limb holding the dirk. “You can keep those kinds of comments to yourself.”
Caelum raced up an alley wall, firing downward as he leapt. Three javelins caught him dead center midair. He slammed to the ground with a heavy grunt.
“Back off and transmog,” Ignis pressed two attackers.
“We can take them,” Caelum struggled upright, shooting a charging faerie in the knees.
“It’ll rebalance your essence, idiot,” Ignis leapt over Caelum, scimitar cutting a blazing butterfly pattern.
“But the wafers will see.”
“Cat’s in the aquarium at this point,” Ignis said.
A flash of light and burst of wind told Ignis Caelum had done as instructed. Caelum cursed. “My pistols!”
Amateurs, him and Aquaylae both.
Ignis cut down the last Seelie. He turned to face three wounded goblins and one very angry ogre. He took a deep breath, backing away slowly. “We can end this peaceably if you’ll do as ordered.”
“Only bird orders of I want come with a side dish,” the ogre bellowed.
Great, I’m surrounded by stand-up comedians.
Ignis shifted his weapon once more and impaled two of the goblins with fire-burst arrows.
Caelum bellowed and charged the ogre. It cocked its head at him as he dove between the ogre’s legs. The ogre shoved its knees together like an outfielder catching a ground ball. It scooped Caelum up, opening wide jaws.
Ignis sent an arrow into the ogre’s mouth. It dropped Caelum and growled through a smoking grimace. Ignis charged, cutting down the last goblin with his flaming blade before dancing around the ogre. It picked up a car and slammed it down atop Ignis. He rolled out of the way, all too aware he wouldn’t be in time.
Two explosions deflected the deadly Hyundai.
The ogre fell forward on shredded knees. Caelum stood behind it, cocking his shotgun for another blast.
“No pithy one liner?” Ignis rolled to his feet, cutting at the vulnerable ogre. “No boom stick jokes?”
“Too tired,” Caelum blasted the ogre in the small of its back.
They made quick work of the brute after that.
Ignis surveyed the carnage, extinguishing his weapon. Sirens screamed their way from multiple directions. “Get gone, call in Summus as quick as you can.”
Anima’s voice escaped the statuette between Caelum’s handlebars. “Caelum, we have two more Veil breeches. Make that three.”
Caelum yanked his motorcycle upright and sped away.
A part of Ignis wanted to race to his car and join Caelum, but the injured mortals needed him first.
A Shield is never just one phoenix.
He rushed from wafer to wafer, doing quick triage before offering medical assistance to those most in need. A fire truck, firefighters and their firehouse paramedics arrived on the scene. A few of the younger ones stood back in shock and confusion, but old hats dove in to help the injured.
“What the hell happened, inspector?”
Ignis grimaced. “Not sure, Lowe, I was a couple of blocks south when I heard screams. You, bring me your bag. I need a better bandage.”
“Good ears,” Lowe said.
“Loud screams.”
A young paramedic pushed his bag into Ignis’s hands. “What are those things?”
“Concentrate rookie! Help the injured!”
“Stop gawking and get in the game, Billy,” Lowe snapped.
A blinding flash of light filled the scene.
“Holy Mary Mother of God, what the hell is that?” Billy asked.
“Behold, Summuseraphi Divine Messenger of the Undying Light,” Summus announced. “Seek my light and see truth anew.”
Judith
Judith paced back and forth behind the counter. The scent of cloves and honey wafted up from the cup of chai sitting next to her own empty coffee. Dark clothes clung to her as her short, straight hair whipped her cheeks with each angry pivot.
The chai had been a peace offering, an apology for the horrible things she’d thought about Quayla for making Judith tend the shop alone. Quayla made a habit out of being late, but she’d never been absent without a word for days on end. It wasn’t like Judith managed Ponds de Leon Flowers. No one did.
Sure, officially there was a manager, but Judith hadn’t ever met him. She’d called him after Quayla’s second day of absence. The number had rolled to voicemail. An internet search turned up the number was hosted by Google Voice, but no owner. She’d left message after message, but no one had called her back.
Something’s wrong. I just know it.
Judith played aloof, but she really did care. She cared too much in fact. One of her lifelong failings came from a habit of becoming emotionally invested too readily. She fell in love too easily, and every time she cared about someone or something, she got hurt.
I decided to be smarter when I started Georgia Tech, but I just can’t shake the feeling that Quayla is in trouble.
Judith glanced at her reflection in the flower chiller. Circles cradled her puffy eyes leaving the rest of her pale skin to look pallid against her plain, black clothes.
The bell over the door spun her around. An ugly, dark-skinned midget in a foreshortened trench coat hobbled into the shop, cleared his throat and addressed her with a thick, gravely accent. “Is she here?”
Judith braced herself against the guy’s aroma and took a deep breath. “No. Perhaps you’ll let me assist you this time?”
He shot Judith a nasty look and hobbled back out of the shop.
“Whatever.” Judith rolled her eyes. “Like I care.”
She called the manager’s number again only to be told that the voicemail box was full.
Screw this.
Judith grabbed her clutch, Quayla’s chai, and a unicorn-decorated motorcycle helmet. She shoved the gift Quayla gave her last Christmas onto her head and stormed out of the florist shop. She paused a moment to lock the door, pinning her lip beneath her teeth in sudden indecision.
If Quayla can get away with being absent, then he’ll just have to deal with me closing up early.
She jumped on her scooter and headed across town to the address she’d dug out of Quayla’s personnel record.
Judith pulled up in front of Quayla’s apartment. She took off the helmet, shook out her hair and ran her fingers through it to comb out any tangles.
Not that I care about looking good for Quayla.
Judith used the whole cross-town trip to build her temper into a tempest. Anger kept the worry at bay, and if she found Quayla lounging around at home Judith had every intention of letting Quayla have it.
She stormed up the stai
rs.
If Quayla was fine, Judith intended to get answers.
Quayla had left her alone without a word. Her absence forced Judith to stay near the florist shop, forgoing coffee and lunch hour study time. She’d had to stay late, unsure where Quayla was or why she was forced to close up the shop alone.
I had to do the whole inventory myself. If I hadn’t ordered flowers, we wouldn’t have had any for orders.
Worse, Quayla’d left her to worry without any idea why she’d abandoned Judith to deal with people—horrible terrible normal people—all by herself.
She pounded on Quayla’s door. “Open up.”
No one answered.
“Quayla, you owe me some answers, damn it. Are you even all right? Never mind. I don’t care. Just answer this door and promise to come back to work.”
No one answered.
She pounded again. “You just up and left, no note, no message. You left me taking care of everything. You left me to deal with the police. I’m not the manager. I’m not the owner, but you made me lock everything up. I—”
The door swung open.
A chill froze Judith’s words in her mouth.
Blood ran a path from the door to the couch.
Judith felt as if her insides had shriveled up like a raisin. She stepped inside. “Quayla?”
Please don’t be dead.
The blood stopped at the couch, but Judith didn’t. She checked the rooms one by one, each tightening the vice around her heart. In some ways, the lack of Quayla’s body compounded her fear.
I have to do something.
Judith hurried out the door only to be brought up short. One moment the stairwell was clear. The next the ugly man from the shop growled at her. “Is she here?”
Judith screamed and darted around him. The throb of blood hitting her ears drowned out her wedges hitting the old wooden stairs. She made it down three flights, onto her scooter and into traffic without remembering to breathe.
Police. I need the police.
Detective Foxner
Sabrina directed the purse snatcher deeper into the precinct. She should’ve been taking him to processing, but he’d offered her a series of apartment thefts. She hated making deals with criminals, but the break-ins had resulted in the hospitalization of an elderly man.
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