by C. C. Mahon
Chloe raised her hand again. “Don’t forget who I am! I raised you from the dead. I can easily destroy you.”
“She’s bluffing,” said my sword.
“Shh!”
I was fascinated by Chloe’s assurance. She glared at the specters, held them in respect by the sole power of her will.
“What are we supposed to do?” shouted the man in the robe.
A new voice rose. “What were your plans before this unfortunate mess?” Harriet had stayed out of the hangar. Her lean figure shone faintly in the twilight. She too stood very straight, almost like Chloe’s reflection.
The specters turned towards Harriet.
“Projects?” repeated the man in the robe.
“We were at the morgue,” said the redhead woman.
“I didn’t understand nothing,” said a third voice.
Others made similar answers. “We didn’t know what to do!”
Harriet shook her head sadly. “Nothing worse than indecision to spoil your afterlife. What you need is a goal.”
Some specters nodded.
“Let’s start with the basics,” Harriet said. “Have any of you had to abandon ongoing projects? Who has business to attend to? Any messages to pass on, perhaps?”
All the specters spoke at the same time. Harriet let them talk for a few moments before raising her hand to demand silence.
“Perfect. In that case, I have a few things to teach you. Well, what are you waiting for? Follow me! It is getting dark, and we have a lot of things to sort out before daybreak. Then we’ll go to say a few words to these Customs fools. ‘Founding mothers,’ what nonsense is that…”
Most of the specters followed her. Some of them took one last look at Chloe before losing interest in the girl. Three remained in the hangar, visibly more lured by immediate revenge than by what Harriet was offering them. One of them was the tattooed man.
Chloe sighed dramatically, squared her shoulders, and said, “You’re asking for it!”
I left my observation post near the door to join the girl.
I couldn’t say the three avenging ghosts were totally wrong. Chloe had committed enough horrors for me to want to stop her, too. But I refused to let anyone get slaughtered in my house. It was a matter of principle.
My sword caught fire very obligingly.
The tattooed man pretended to crack the joints of his hand. “There’s three of us against you two, my pretty ones.”
Considering his look and personality, I assumed he was one of the three drug dealers Lola had tried to find. The other two specters were older men. One had quite a belly; the other was mostly bald. Their expressions did not bode well.
All the more reason not to show any fear.
Britannicus’s voice suddenly rose behind the specters. “Ladies, may I join you?”
The sorcerer was soaked, and his beautiful fine leather shoes left puddles behind him with every step he took. He walked through the group of specters without giving them a glance, affecting to rectify the position of his cuff link. He stood on the other side of Chloe and produced a fireball in the palm of his hand.
“Well,” he said in a cheerful tone, “where were you at?”
The bald specter decided he had better things to do and took off.
Lizzie met him on the threshold. “What did you do to this poor man?” she asked us.
“We have not started yet,” replied Britannicus. “We were waiting for you.”
“How kind,” said Lizzie. “Let’s begin.”
She spread her arms apart with a theatrical gesture and sang in a loud voice, “Hecate, goddess of the night! Gaia, mother of all things! Witches, my sisters!”
Britannicus opened his hands in silence, and a fireball was born in both palms. The last two specters lost their nerves and ran away without further ado.
“Impressive,” I said, pointing to the fireballs.
“Illusions,” replied Britannicus. “A certain nightclub owner gave me the idea.”
“Do you think we’re rid of them?” asked Lizzie.
“Harriet took charge of them,” noted Britannicus. “She seems perfectly capable of making them behave.”
“What will she make them do?” I asked. “And to what end?”
“I imagine the future will tell us,” said the sorcerer, as unfazed as ever.
Lola passed her head through the frame of the big door and asked, “Is it okay? Can we come in now? It’s raining like hell outside!”
34
“I’M GETTING out of here,” said Chloe soberly.
She stepped towards the door and met the barrel of the weapon that Lola pointed at her chest.
“Not so fast. You’re under arrest for the murder of the thirty victims of the pileup the other night.”
Chloe looked down on Lola—with her platform boots, the kid could afford it.
“Good luck proving this story,” she said.
“You are also charged with assaulting and kidnapping the principal of your high school, not to mention the manufacture and distribution of illegal drugs that resulted in the death of at least one person.”
“Is this a joke?” said Chloe.
“Do I look like I’m laughing? Turn around,” replied Lola, taking out her handcuffs.
Instead of complying, Chloe threw herself at Lola, one shoulder forward, like a football player. Lola dodged, threw a leg forward, and Chloe fell flat on the dirt floor. After that, Lola had no trouble handcuffing Chloe.
“Erica, would you watch her for a couple of minutes? I need to use your landline to call the police station. This storm has cut off mobile communications.”
She went downstairs to make her phone call from the bar, and I leaned against the frame of the big door to watch Chloe.
The young witch glared at me with hatred. “You won’t get away with this,” she spat. “You can lock me up, but my power doesn’t care about prisons! I’ll get even!”
“How?” asked Lizzie. “You lost your grimoire, and you always refused to learn your lessons.”
“Because you only teach useless shit! I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.”
“Good heavens,” sighed Britannicus. “Somnum!”
Chloe collapsed, unconscious.
“She’ll get some sleep,” explained the wizard. “We have earned a little quiet and a nice hot tea.”
“With a good dose of brandy in mine,” Lizzie added.
On the threshold, someone cleared their throat. “Excuse me…”
The high school principal gave me a little smile. “There are a lot of people on the sidewalk. I told them to wait for you to finish, but maybe now they could…?”
The poor woman was soaked to the bone with rain. On her chest, she was holding a large volume bound with old leather.
“Is it the grimoire?” I asked.
She came in and handed me the volume. “After you left, I saw it lying on the ground. I thought it would be better to keep it safe. Unfortunately, it’s wet now…”
I grabbed the grimoire and asked stupidly, “Who’s waiting outside?”
“What do you think, boss?” said Barbie’s voice.
“Not to complain, boss, but it’s raining cats and dogs out here,” Johnny added.
The harpy stood in the door opening. She had raised her red wings above her head to protect herself from the rain. Johnny had straightened the collar of his raincoat; his hat was dripping in front of his nose. Behind them, Eupraxie’s voice called, “So, what do we do now? I received a message telling me to come as soon as possible, but I’m not going to stay on the sidewalk like a beggar.”
“Uh…come in,” I stammered.
Barbie and Johnny bumped into Chloe’s limp body.
“We’re not gonna leave the kid in the way…” said Johnny. “Barb, can you give me a hand?”
Eupraxie appeared on the threshold. She gauged the situation and said, “I guess the bar isn’t ready to receive the public?”
“Don’t worry, lady,�
� said Johnny. “We’ll put the kid in a corner, and we’ll open the bar for you.”
I stepped out of the way and let my team get to work. I really, really needed a break.
I smelled pine sap and knew that Nate was behind me. He put his arm around my waist. I let myself lean against him.
“It seems I missed all the action,” he said.
“We didn’t do anything,” I told him. “Just talking.”
“You look exhausted. How many days have you been awake?”
I tried to count them but couldn’t.
“Let the others work,” Nate continued. “Go upstairs and get some rest.”
“There are things to do,” I said. “Chloe, we can’t leave her here, and then the club, and the magic…”
Fatigue was making me ramble.
Lola appeared in front of me and said, “Colleagues are coming for Chloe. I’ll wait for them.”
“And we’ll take care of the bar,” Barbie announced.
“Of course, I’ll manage the entrances,” added Eupraxie.
“You see,” concluded Nate, “you can go upstairs and get some rest.”
His breath tickled my ear. His voice was soft. I wanted to listen to him for once. But there was one thing that made my mind itch.
“Wait…” I mumbled. “Did someone count the specters?”
Everyone looked at me as if I had just lost my mind.
Everyone except the school principal.
“There were twenty-five of them in all,” she said.
“You were kidnapped, tied up, assaulted by the undead…and counted them?” I asked.
“Thirty years of teaching,” she said, “spent counting students to see if we lost any along the way leaves you with reflexes.”
I tried a simple mental calculation, failed, and said aloud, “Twenty-five specters, plus Susan, plus Jeffrey, that makes…”
“Twenty-seven,” Nate said kindly.
“There were thirty of them in the morgue,” Lola recalled.
I nodded. “So we’re missing…”
“Three,” Nate breathed.
“Three,” I said, “thank you. Three undead people who are rotting on the streets. I have to go get them.”
“Why?” asked Nate.
“I bring them back here, they cross the threshold, and poof! Problem solved.”
I felt drunk with fatigue. As soon as I settled this undead problem, I was going to take a nice nap.
“I’ll take care of it,” said Nate. “With my bear smell, it’ll be easy. Go upstairs and get some rest.”
“Just fifteen minutes,” I said.
I let him carry me up the stairs.
Alicia had fallen asleep on my couch.
“She told me that she was the one who asked Chloe to bring Jeffrey back,” said Nate. “She feels terrible about it.”
“What a mess,” I said.
I collapsed on my bed and fell asleep immediately.
When I woke up, it was still dark. The magic geyser lit up the sky and the loft. The rain was pounding on the glass roof.
Someone had put a blanket on my wings. My boots were missing, as were my soaked jeans. I growled as I imagined Nate undressing me. “Awake?” asked a voice.
It wasn’t Nate.
“Lola?” I said. “Is Chloe gone?”
I sat up slowly in the middle of the bed. I was sore everywhere and probably had a few spectacular bruises.
The lamp in the living room lit up. Lola was lying on the couch under the blanket that covered Alicia a few hours earlier.
“Where is Alicia?” I asked.
“Her mother came to get her.”
“Good. What about Chloe?”
Lola grimaced. “I put her in a police car, headed to the police station.”
“But?”
“She never arrived. The car crashed. The cop’s in the hospital. Chloe’s out there.”
“Shit.”
“That was yesterday. You’ve been asleep for more than twenty-four hours.”
“You let me sleep for a day?”
“Your wing was dislocated. Barbie and Britannicus have patched you up. They said you needed to rest. And I had a couple of things to do.”
I got out of bed to join Lola in the living room.
“You look like a zombie,” I said.
“Thank you for the compliment.”
“What’s going on?”
She huddled on the couch and brought the blanket under her chin. “Erica, it’s a real zoo out there. The streets are flooded. There are hundreds of refugees in gymnasiums—homeless people who usually live in rainwater drainage tunnels. Phones no longer work, radios, the Internet…everything is scrambled. Cars move whenever they want, and anyway, it would take a boat to get around town. Lightning strikes every street corner. And supernaturals are…unmanageable.”
I knelt before her and took her hands in mine. “What happened?”
“It’s Matteo… He has… He couldn’t stop.”
“What?”
“I went to see him in the kitchen. This whole undead thing had made me sick. He’s always there for me when I’m like that. He relieves me of all my negative emotions. Yesterday, he started to absorb my sadness and everything else, but…he didn’t stop, and I couldn’t scream, and I fell… Gertrude had to pull him off.”
“Is he still here?”
“He’s gone. I don’t know where.”
“He told me he was fine…”
“Magic drives them all crazy,” Lola said. “And it’s getting worse and worse.”
I stood up and groaned. “I have to go downstairs and see how it goes. Can you…can you be alone?”
She nodded. Crouching under her blanket, pale, her features drawn, she looked like a sick child.
“I’ll be back soon,” I said. “I just need to make sure that no one is killing anyone.”
35
I FOUND DRY clothes, put on sneakers, and rushed to the door.
I had gone down half the stairs when I noticed the first changes.
There were camp beds in the hangar. Travel bags. And even a tent erected in a corner.
From the entrance to the hangar, Eupraxie greeted me. Then she turned towards the street and the rain beating down the sidewalk. She looked like a guard at the gate of a fortress. In fact, someone had piled sandbags in front of the threshold to prevent water from entering the building.
The bar was packed to capacity. I had barely walked through the door when Barbie threw her arms around my neck.
“Boss! Are you all right? We were worried about you! What about your wing?”
I let her examine me and took the opportunity to observe the crowd of our customers.
All the regulars were there: Jenny, Max, and the other coyotes—including young people who were undoubtedly under the legal drinking age. The wolves were there too, gathered in a corner. I recognized the couple in their fifties who were talking to Gertrude; they were dragons and the troll’s landlords.
“Is it me or has Gertrude grown up again?”
Barbie stopped examining me from every angle and turned to the troll. “She says it’s the magic leak that makes her that way. If this continues, she won’t fit through even your new door.”
“What about you?” I said.
The harpy shrugged her thin shoulders. “I’m smoking again, and I’m not in the best mood. I feel like I want fresh meat. Maybe I’ll go rabbit hunting after closing time.”
As long as it was only rabbits.
“Tell me,” I asked, “what’s with the camping on the ground floor?”
“Nate said you agreed to give us shelter. Does that bother you?”
“No, but it’s not just you guys, is it?”
“Some of the customers were scared yesterday. They asked to stay. We thought it wouldn’t bother you… It’s mainly sorcerers, psychics, the kind of people who don’t have much magic to begin with. It’s a little violent out there right now. Even humans are freaking out. Speaking of wh
ich, Britannicus and Lizzie are in the back room,” Barbie continued. “I promised to tell them when you were awake.”
“I’ll go. Don’t bother.”
I snuck up to the bar. Faithful to the job, Johnny worked with all the dexterity of a professional. He noticed me, finished serving three customers, and reached out to me. “Boss, how’s it going?”
“What about you?”
“Well, a few more itchy feathers…”
Barbie leaned over the bar between us and said, “They’re beautiful!”
Johnny blushed and scratched the top of his head as he watched Barbie walk away.
“I have to say, when I finally got away from the crazy lady aviary, I didn’t think…”
“You would end up in another menagerie?”
“Nah, boss, that’s not what I meant. I had a plan to lead a tidy life, just the daily grind, if you know what I mean.”
“Are you sorry you didn’t go back to Chicago? There must be fewer magical problems there.”
“Well, I don’t do regrets. And Chicago is a thing of the past for me. In life, you have to know how to move forward. Anyway, the river only goes one way.”
I was looking for an answer to my philosopher bartender when I heard a female voice shouting, “He’s not coming back!”
I turned to the entrance of the room, imitated by the rest of the audience. Enola was standing on the threshold.
The prophetess recognized me and rushed straight at me. The customers moved away from her, and I instantly regretted leaving my sword in the loft. Enola had already tried to kill me once or twice.
Instead of attacking me, she stopped a stone’s throw from me and repeated, “He’s not coming back!”
She was disheveled, and her blouse was wrinkled, crooked, and stained. Her face was red, and her eyes alone would have been worth a visit to a psychiatrist.
“Who is not coming back?” I asked.
“Dimitri! Dimitri is not coming back.”
“Cal…Dimitri is gone?” I said.
I didn’t understand why Enola was coming to bother me with her love problems. If Callum had dumped her, it was her business. She didn’t expect me to comfort her, did she?
“He exploded,” she said. “But he’s not coming back. He should have caught fire and risen from the ashes. But…”
