“Task a team, see if you can’t pick her up. No violence though! For God’s sake, let’s not clash with the Wraith a third time. Just quietly snatch her. We can ship her out with the rest of the merchandise and be done with it. With any luck, no one will notice for a couple of days. After you have her, send some other guys to search her place, just in case she has any physical evidence on us.”
“I’ll see to it,” Asagi said with a sharp nod.
Hoshi took some relief from the albino freak’s death. It was all over the news; the police were calling it a win. It would take some of the heat off the gang for a few days. There was no mention of the Wraith—why would there be? No one had seen or heard from him in years… since the day he’d disappeared. But Hoshi knew, and it terrified him.
From behind his desk, he looked out at the chop shop he ran. The OCG’s primary income came from smuggling and human trafficking; they always needed new, clean cars to perform both. The police were smart—if they saw the same car leaving the city every week they’d catch on.
Maybe he could keep the OCG out of this, off the Wraith’s radar. The Outfit had used up all their credit with him. If they wanted him to commit suicide by engaging the Wraith, then they would have to pay millions—which he knew they wouldn’t do. So, as punishment for not helping them more, they would lower the prices they paid for his goods
And I am so okay with that.
After all, if the Wraith was back, he was about to lose a lot of competition. If only that moron, Ghost, hadn’t lost nine of his best men in the process. He was going to need more security, and fast. He pulled his phone out, searching through his contacts. It might cost a little extra, but there were a few mercs he could call. Maybe even some with superpowers, just to even the field a little. Yeah, the mad Russian would be perfect.
It would be worth the price if they could get back to business. That container full of girls on the dock could only stay there for so long before they were discovered. He needed to move them out of town… and fast.
He would need more insurance on this one. It would eat into his profits to bring in a merc with powers, but what choice did he have? If the Wraith was back, and Ghost, who had powers, was dead, he would need someone. He couldn’t spend money if he was dead.
Chapter 27
“Always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy”
― Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Madi, wake up.
I swore I heard Spice’s voice, but that wasn’t possible. Just another bad dream. Except the pain flaring up through my body was no dream. And oh God was I thirsty! My mouth felt like the Sahara collided with the sun. I groaned as I pulled myself off the floor. Every muscle in my body ached, hell, my bones hurt.
Then it hit me—I was alive? How? I shook my head, leaning over to push myself up, favoring my busted knee— except… it wasn’t busted. I stood up, gingerly putting weight on it until it held me up.
“What the hell?” I said aloud. “Joseph?” He wasn’t here that I could see, and it wasn’t like his house was that big. The thirst hit me again. I staggered toward the kitchen, not even bothering with a cup, I just stuck my face under the faucet and turned the water on. I drank the water in huge gulps, not stopping until my stomach was full of the delicious life-giving H2O.
I turned off the faucet and stretched. Joints popped and muscles ached, but I felt a hundred times better. “Joseph?” I called out again. Nothing. He was hurt as well if I recalled. The night before was a jumbled mess in my brain. However, I could clearly recall Ghost’s death. That brought a smile to my face. “I got him, Spice.” I leaned against the wall for a moment, rejoicing in my small victory. There were other people to kill, but it was a start. A good one.
I walked to the back of the house where his bedroom was. I’d never violated his privacy before, but now I was starting to worry. I rapped my knuckles on the door a couple of times.
Nothing.
Carefully, as not to wake him if he was sleeping, I opened the door, pushing it an inch at a time, revealing his bed. Adorned with floral print sheets, blankets, and a comforter, along with matching pillowcases, it looked like something out of a home and garden show.
I went in, worry overriding my natural respect for his privacy. “Joseph?” Not only was the room empty, the bed wasn’t slept in—there was no sign he was ever here. I checked the master suite bathroom… nothing. “Joseph, this isn’t funny,” I said loud enough for anyone in the house to here.
Some of the jumble of memories came back from the night before as my brain cleared… I’d been shot! I pulled up my bloody shirt to see if he had stitched me up. There wasn’t a wound where the bullet had struck me. Nor where the ricochet had hit. I ran into the bathroom, turned on the hot water and looked in the mirror. A dirty, bloody line etched its way across my face. I plunged my hands into the scalding water and splashed my face, using my fingers to scrub away the blood.
Smooth black skin was all that remained.
“This isn’t possible.” I don’t know who I was talking to. Mostly I just wanted to hear someone. Even myself. “Okay Madi, think. What do you remember about last night?”
There was a whole metric ton of pain. That was easy to remember. I was stabbed, shot, punched, kicked, and burned alive… wait. I wasn’t burned alive? Joseph! He had superpowers after all. Something to do with shadows, since he stepped out of one to attack Ghost. Then Krisan got away… I would need to call her later and make sure she was okay… Then we kicked Ghost’s ass… and I killed him. The sensation of the knife plunging through his chest was almost an aphrodisiac, a high unlike anything I’d ever felt. I was positively giddy at the memory.
I calmed down after a few moments and kept the movie playing in my head moving forward. Ghost called a sniper… they fired, hitting me once or twice. Then Joseph was on me and we were back here? My mind blurred from the dual memories of elation and pain. I was so sure I was dead…
“Oh crap. He kissed me.”
Right. Maybe he decided he was too embarrassed and decided to leave while he could? With my thirst abated, hunger set in. I went into his kitchen; the L-shaped room was a study in minimalism. Joseph ate a lot of fish and rice. He had told me it wasn’t because he was Asian, but because it was the easiest way to consume carbs and protein. Clearly, he had never eaten southern fried chicken. Lots of protein and carbs.
Oh Mom. I’m so sorry. I miss you so much. I’m going to get that flaming bitch next, don’t you worry.
Then what? If I were honest with myself, I never thought I’d get this far.
Pushing those thoughts aside in favor of hunger, I opened the fridge and took out the pack of yogurt he always had. That went down the gullet, but I was still hungry. It was a weird hunger, though. A kind I had never felt before in my life. The more I ate the more I realized just how flipping hungry I was. I tossed all the fish he had in a frying pan then went back to the fridge. He had to have some bacon or something; sure enough, hidden away in the back corner was a pack of thick cut bacon. I tossed that in a second pan and went back for the dozen eggs. I grabbed the gallon of milk and just drank it straight from the plastic bottle. I barely waited for the meat to finish frying then I devoured that too.
After all that my hunger subsided. It was like my body had been screaming at me for help.
Too weird.
A wave of exhaustion rolled over me, causing me to sway as I walked. I made my way back to the living room and flopped down on the couch. Maybe a little nap was in order. He’d probably wake me up any moment.
✽✽✽
“Spice!” It was that dream again. Except this time she was dressed like The Wraith, with a long black trench coat, skullcap and half mask painted like the bottom part of a skeleton’s jaw. Her eyes were the only reason I knew it was her. As I watched, they turned a bright blue, like she had implanted LED lights behind them. “What are you wearing?” I asked.
“You don’t like it? How about this,” she said with a snap of her finge
rs. Gone was the full-length coat. Now she wore a three-quarter length trench coat that also had a hood pulled down to her eyebrows. Instead of the skull mask, she wore a red scarf like the one I had taken from Krisan. The rest of her outfit was sleeker, more form-fitting. I had to say, she looked frighteningly good. “This then?” she asked.
“What’s this about, Spice?”
She pointed to my side and I turned to look. It wasn’t her wearing the costume anymore, it was me. On top of the costume I had drop holsters on both thighs, each loaded with an H&K USP Tactical pistol with a silencer. I recognized them as the big brother of the P-30 I normally carried. My calf length boots held knives on each side. A wind I couldn’t hear or see blew my coat up, revealing an SMG slung tightly to my back. I looked like a walking weapons platform.
“You’re the Wraith now, Madi. Don’t waste it.”
I looked back and Spice was gone. I was alone in a room with no windows. “Spice? Don’t go… Please?”
“I will always be with you,” her voice said from the shadows.
✽✽✽
I awoke with a start, scrambling out of the couch and immediately regretting my life choices. “Ow,” I said loudly. Now that I had eaten enough to satisfy a 300-pound hog and slept some more, my head cleared. The night before came back to me in crystal clarity. The dream as well.
What the hell did Spice mean, ‘You’re the Wraith now?’
Joseph had told me something before I passed out. Something important, I could feel it in my bones. What was it? Right. I glanced over at the faux fireplace. Seven pictures adorned it, the same ones that were always there. Three smaller ones on either side framing a larger one. None of them were of him. My hand reached out of its own accord and pushed the central picture. It resisted as I pushed, finally clicking back. The floor shook, and I shot my arms out for balance. No, not the floor. The lift I was standing on. It lowered into the floor like some kind of secret passage.
The lift cleared the floor and another floor moved in above me, seating itself into the hole vacated by what I was standing on. Anyone walking into the house would have no idea.
It was dark, pitch black actually, I couldn’t see a thing until the lights flickered into existence. One by one they shone around the room. It was huge, easily larger than the house above, but a single room. The first thing I noticed as the lights came on was his Ducati. The Impala wasn’t there, but I wasn’t surprised. He probably used that to get to me.
Well, that’s how he could have an endless supply of equipment in the tiny house; underground storage!
The lair consisted of a few areas: an armory with more guns than I had ever seen outside The Matrix movie, a garage, and two costume racks, one with an identical outfit to what he had worn last night, one empty. On the far wall was a flat screen TV, larger than anything I’d even heard of. Lastly, and most surprising, was the massive pallet of cash, neatly shrink-wrapped and almost five feet tall. From what I could tell, it was all hundred-dollar bills.
Damn! It must be all the money he stole from the gangs over the years.
When I was trying to break into modeling money was certainly a factor, but this… this was stupid amounts of money.
While I gazed at all that cash the monitor flickered to life with Joseph’s sad smile stretched twenty feet across. “Hi Madi, if you’re seeing this, I guess you know the truth. It also means I’m gone. Or should I say, I’m dead. With any luck, the heaven I’ve believed in all my life waits for me and I’m with my family again. God, how I miss them.”
“Joseph?” I asked out loud. It was dumb, of course, it was prerecorded. But dead? He couldn’t be dead? I was the one who was shot, not him.
“No doubt you’re confused, and wondering how I died. I wish I could tell you exactly what happened, but I’m recording this just a few minutes after I received your call. I know I said I wouldn’t come help you…. Well as you may have guessed, I lied. More accurately, I was lying to myself.
You’re special, Madi. I think you can succeed where I failed. I never told you why I quit, why I stopped being the Wraith. What I did tell you was partially true. It did become increasingly difficult to tell the good guys from the bad. But that wasn’t all of it.”
He let out a long sigh. The camera pulled back and I could see he was in his costume, guns and all. “My family was killed when I was thirty-five.”
What? No. This house was the first place the Wraith was sighted; it was his house and his family. Joseph was pushing sixty, maybe even older. “God, Madi, I’m so sorry. Part of me hoped—wished—you would change your mind. That the training was enough for you not to feel powerless anymore and you would walk away from all of this before it was too late. Since you’re watching this, it is too late. I’ve known this moment was coming since I answered the door that day all those months ago. I guess I was just trying to delay it as long as I could.”
Confusion swept over me, my mind reeled at what he said. Thirty-five? That would make him only forty-eight?
“I don’t have a lot of time, so here it goes. I am not the Wraith. Or I should say, I’m not the only Wraith. I spent the first few years trying to figure out what had happened to me. It was time wasted; don’t waste yours. The powers I had were passed on to me by an… entity. He gave them to me in exchange for a place to… continue. Unfortunately, we weren’t as compatible as he’d hoped. Every time I used the powers held within me it aged me. Sometimes minutes, sometimes days, sometimes years…”
I stumbled backward at the enormity of what he was telling me.
“Whatever it is, has nothing to do with how other people are given superpowers. He is his own power. When you need it, he’ll grant you strength, speed, regeneration, night vision, and his most powerful ability, teleportation. He lives to kill—relishes it really. Don’t let him change you. Kill when you must, but don’t take life cheaply.
He sighed. Looking down off camera then back up. “Do what you want with the house. I’ve left everything to you in my will, but I’ll understand if you don’t stay in Detroit; I know you have your own stuff to sort… There’s a lot more I need to say, but I don’t have time. Good luck Madi.”
The video shut off, and I was left wondering just what the hell was going on? Joseph was dead, and I was possessed by something? That’s when I caught sight of my reflection on the mirror of the Ducati. I ran up to it and grabbed the mirror. Kneeling, I looked closely into my eyes. Gone were the brown ones I was born with, the ones that reminded me so much of Mom… now they were a deep, dark, ocean blue.
“Great. That’s not obvious at all,” I muttered.
Chapter 28
It was a new day. After I explored his lair I went back upstairs and crashed on the couch; it didn’t seem right to move into his room. For the first time since Sara’s death, I slept without dreams or nightmares. One second I was falling asleep, the next I was waking up, yawning as the sun streamed through the living room window.
I decided a day off was in order. I needed to do a few things and I had to wrap my head around what happened.
I’m The Wraith.
A long hot shower helped things, washing off the remaining blood and grime from the day before. It was weird; I had all the memories of the blade cutting me and the bullets punching through me, but no marks, no scars, no wounds.
After the shower, I ate some oatmeal and pondered what to do next. With Ghost dead, I didn’t have to worry about ISO-1 tracking me down just yet. I did need to go after them, though. But what really bothered me was where he got all the goons?
Krisan would know. We had saved her and I was sure she’d be more than willing to return the favor. Oatmeal finished, I got dressed and headed into the living room.
Ten seconds later I was lowering into the secret lair. There was only the one vehicle left, the Ducati.
“What the hell,” I said to myself.
Ten minutes later I was speeding through traffic on the greatest bike ever made with a grin like the cat who ate the ca
nary. The bike handled like a dream, and though I rode one before, it wasn’t that hard to figure out.
As I leaned left and right, bouncing through traffic, I noticed a difference in myself. I was faster—my reflexes were amped up. The cars around me almost looked like they were going in slow motion. To test it, I hit the gas and turned in front of a car.
It wasn’t even close, and it should have been. He should have hit me, but I zoomed right by him. I wondered if this is what Joseph meant about gifts. If it was, then it also meant I was already rapidly aging just like him. My mind boggled at what he had said. He had looked like he was sixty, not in his mid-forties. In ten years would I look like I was in my fifties?
I guess there was no real way to know. We all have a time limit, an expiration date; at least I had the power to bring some much-needed justice to some people who thought they were above it.
However, today was about Intel. I needed how Ghost recruited his helpers, where I could strike at them, and how to get them stopped. Then I could pack up and head back to New Orleans and deliver a much overdue message to Henry and his associates. I know Joseph said I could leave Detroit, but I didn’t like the idea of just abandoning Krisan to her fate. After all, I did have a hand in it. If it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t have painted a target on her back by writing those hit pieces on ISO-1.
I parked the bike across from the now familiar Detroit Free Press building. From here I could see the broken-out windows with caution tape stretched across them. I had a hard time wrapping my head around only twenty-four hours passing since it all happened. I felt so… good.
I stopped in at Starbucks and grabbed myself an espresso and one of her evil caramel drinks for Krisan, then I was off across the street into the building I had come to know so well. It was strange indeed, traveling up in the elevator again, this time though, I felt so alive. My every sense was supercharged. When the doors binged opened on Krisan’s floor I could hear, smell, and feel everyone who was there. My eyes went wide and I walked out with a dazed look on my face. It was a little much.
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