She walked silently next to me, wearing an outfit I had seen Sara in a hundred times. Jeans, a tank top, slip-on shoes, and her fluffy blue coat. Her hair was different though; she wore it straight, like I used to wear mine.
“I know a lot about pain,” she said quietly. “A lot.”
I glanced over at her. “What are you, exactly?”
She smiled. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” she said.
I smirked. That was about as cryptic as it got.
“It’s from Shake—”
“I know. I’ve read a book or two.”
We walked some more. Having her next to me, not inside me, helped somehow.
“Why?” I asked finally. “Why are you helping me? Why do you care?”
“It always comes down to that, doesn’t it? The truth is something you’re not ready to hear… yet. But you will be, one day, if you live long enough. I’m old Madi, older than you can imagine. In all my long life I have rarely met a soul so willing to do anything to achieve vengeance.”
I hadn’t ever known myself before… not really. Eight years as a model and I thought I was happy; in truth I was more or less surviving. Maybe that was why I never made it past the point I did—my heart wasn’t really in it. Why did it take the murder of my family for me to find the one thing I was truly great at?
“I can tell you this, though, Madi. If you stay alive, and keep your commitment, you will find all the answers you’re looking for. You’re an artist Madi, but instead of a drawing or singing your art is death. Don’t ever stop painting.”
I opened my mouth to reply but she was gone… and I found myself in front of the Dumas Family Tomb.
Alex, Nadia, Charles, Sara.
Everyone in my life was dead. Everyone who ever loved me, gone. I dropped to my knees, hands hitting the pavement and I just… collapsed. I wanted them back so bad I could taste it. I’d never be able to tell Dad I was sorry. Sorry about Charles… about us… I’d never tell my Mom how much I loved her. Never hold Sara again, see her grow up, marry a good man, have wonderful children.
It was all gone, taken, and there wasn’t anything I could ever do that would change that. I knew that a normal person would take that grief and work through it—realize there was nothing they could do to change it, nothing that could ever be done.
I wasn’t normal, though, was I? For whatever reason—luck, fate, destiny—I had found the Wraith and she had found me. I seized upon the spark inside of me, the spark of vengeance. I blew on it until it was a roaring fire burning within me.
And I laughed.
Yes, my family would never be alive again. Nothing I did would change that. But you know what? How could I know until I tried? Maybe… maybe if I killed every last one of those bastards, then maybe things would change. Or maybe I would just keep killing bad people until I was dead—or there were no more bad people left to kill.
Sounded like a plan to me.
“Madi?” Krisan asked from a shadow a few plots away.
“Over here,” I said. My Wraith voice came out of my mouth and I realized there was a soft blue nimbus of light around me. Energy flowed through me a kind I had never felt before. A connection, a sympathy. We were in sync, she and I. We were the Wraith.
We were Vengeance.
Chapter 23
Krisan stepped out of the shadows, stopping when she saw the light surrounding me.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I nodded. I closed my eyes for a second and let that power flow through me, then let it go. The light vanished and my voice returned to normal.
“Yes. I was coming to terms with something.” I reached up and put my hand next to Sara’s. One day my name would be here, and then I could finally rest.
“I want to work with you,” she said without preamble. Which was just like her.
“Sure,” I replied. “I’ll call you if I need anything—”
“No, I want to come with you.”
I chuckled. “Krisan, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I mean, you’re clever and stuff, but you have a tendency to rely on luck way too much. I’m not sure you would be much help in a fight.”
Her eyes went wide, then she smiled, and finally it turned into a laugh of her own. “Oh no, Madi, you misunderstand. I want to help you with everything else. You know, the mundane stuff. Intelligence gathering, supplies, vehicles, where to live, that sort of thing,” she said.
That was an intriguing idea. I pulled myself up, dusting off my pants before leaning against the tomb.
“I can’t always protect you, Krisan. This would be risky for you. What do you get out of it?”
She looked away for a second then back at me. I could see the wheels turning, I just had no idea what she was going to say.
“I want to write about what you do. I want to tell your story.”
“No,” I said. I put my hand up to cut off her complaint. “This doesn’t work as well if people know there is a me. It only works if they think there is some mysterious force against them. Once they know I’m a person, they will know who I am—and then I will just be another thing in their way. A person who can be ignored or destroyed.” One of the things Joseph taught me was this principle. He’d regretted adopting a persona. If he had been able to do it again he would have struck from the shadows. That was how true fear happened.
“I think you’re missing the point. Let me try to put it a different way. I’m a writer, Madi, I’m a good writer. Not just news, either. I can write fiction; I can spin a tale about you that will strike fear into the hearts of everyone. Sure, I’ll tell the truth, but I’ll give it scope. Just the thought that you are going after them will leave people in a cold sweat. You won’t be a person or a symbol, you’ll be a legend. You’ll be the story people tell their children at night to keep them on the straight and narrow.”
She certainly was impassioned—and she had a point. Sure, the not knowing was fearsome, but how much more good could I do just by having people afraid I was in their city? If I could make enough bad people afraid enough… maybe I could save a few lives.
Hell, if I saved just one it would be worth it.
“Let’s say for a second I’m willing to consider this; how can you help me? I don’t need a secretary, and you’re not experienced in the criminal underworld. I need weapons, safe houses, vehicles—how can you get me any of that?” I asked.
Now it was her turn to smile. She pulled out her phone and held it in her hand for a long moment with her eyes closed.
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out and checked the message.
>>>>Not everyone with superpowers wears a costume and has a codename.<<<<
I stared at the phone. Then back at her. She hadn’t moved. Then back to the phone.
>>>>I can access my phone and any other phone it has access to, with my mind. I travel through the electronic aether as easily as you travel through the shadows. I’m also one hell of a negotiator.<<<<
“You cheater,” I said with a smile. “Is that how you get all your scoops?”
She opened her eyes, her smile matching my own as she put her phone away. “It’s not cheating, I have to be close to the phone if I want to access it. I can send you messages and read your phone if I’m within a hundred feet, but unless someone is using their phone around me, or I’m touching it, I can’t just find it and read it. I have to do the legwork, just like every other reporter. I just have an added advantage. So, what do you say? Can I be your girl in the chair?”
“That depends…”
“On what?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Are you willing to work for no pay and less benefits?”
She laughed. “Are you kidding me? I’m a reporter, I don’t think I’ve ever had benefits. As for pay, well, I’ll take a cut of whatever you get off the bad guys.”
“Alright then, welcome aboard.”
“Like I told you before, I’m not really great with no
,” she reminded me.
I laughed. When I first met her, she had asked if she could tell my story and I had said no… and here I was agreeing to let her tell my story.
“I guess you are a good negotiator.”
Chapter 24
Vaas leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the hotel room overlooking the city. From here he could see for miles. Normally it was a view he loved; now it meant nothing to him. Billions. With a B. That was how much money he had lost. Despite his best efforts. No one could fault him for the safeguards he had put in place, but the money was still lost. Not just the last two week’s profits, but the previous two weeks returns as well. Along with the boats, trucks, men, and their hidden meeting spot.
There was no hiding it, either. Even if he could somehow manage to square the books, it was all over the news. The Coast Guard was calling it the biggest win in US history.
Fifteen years. Fifteen years of struggling to the top and this was what it all came down to. Some faceless entity ripping apart his organization and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it. He’d sent 50 armed combatants to the beach, three with superpowers, not to mention the eight pros on the boats, and almost all of them were dead. Was he fighting a damn army?
“Vaas,” Miguel said quietly from the doorway.
“Not now,” he replied. He tapped the barrel of his Desert Eagle .357 against his leg, debating whether he should just shoot himself now and save the Council the trouble. They would be sending someone; when word got back to Belize, they would replace him immediately.
Well good luck with that. It’s not like I’m incompetent. Whoever is doing this to us holds all the cards.
On the eve of his greatest victory he had experienced his greatest defeat.
“Is the C4 in place?” he asked. At least if everything else went to hell he could still finish his job.
“Yeah, but that’s not what I wanted to tell you—”
“Go away Miguel, I’m contemplating the lack of our future.” Vaas shook his pistol in the air as he spoke to emphasize exactly what he meant.
“Boss, I think I know where the people who are doing this are staying.”
That got Vaas’s attention. He spun around, looking at his lieutenant and waiting.
“I’ve had the boys shaking down the streets. Like I said earlier, no one’s talking. So I told them to ask harder.”
Vaas smiled; he knew what that meant. “And?”
“A couple of nights ago the Fieros were shaking down a restaurant in Kenner, a Peruvian joint.”
“Peruvian? No…”
Miguel nodded. “The very same one. They said they ran into a black woman who beat three of them to a pulp in a half second then threw them out,” Miguel said.
“Do you believe them?”
Miguel nodded. “It took three hours to convince them to talk. They were more terrified of her than us. At least until the end,” he said with a smile.
Vaas ran his hand over his scalp. Could it be just one person doing all this damage? It didn’t seem possible. He knew about Detroit and the crap-show up there. It had cost him one of his best assassins. The other, El Fuego, was in Columbia at the moment, dealing with a few problems. How was it then, that whoever was killing his men and taking apart his organization just happened to be staying in the apartment above that crazy flaming wench’s parent’s restaurant?
“Did you call Columbia?”
“Yes, first thing. El Fuego is down there; she’s alive and in contact with our local people. Whoever this is, they’ve done their homework.”
Vaas smiled. For the first time this week he felt like he had the upper hand. This was how it was supposed to be, the law of the jungle, only the strong survive. He hadn’t dragged Peter up from the streets of Mexico City on luck.
“Okay, make sure the truck is primed, I want it going off at midnight exactly. That gives us—” he checked his phone “—four hours to make sure the Saints and this person are gone forever. Task everyone you can, everyone who’s left, and get them to that restaurant. We’re going to set a trap, and this time we will win.”
Chapter 25
On our way home from the cemetery I reached into my pocket and handed Krisan fifty grand in hundred-dollar bills. “I have a name and location for an arms dealer out of the middle east. He competes with ISO-1. I had planned on just killing him and taking all his stuff, but at the moment I have my hands full. When we get back to where I’m staying let’s get some food, then I’ll give you a list of all the weapons and gear I need.”
Her eyes went big at the stack of hundreds she took from me. “Where did you get this?”
“You know all that money I blew up on the beach?”
Krisan nodded.
“I took some first. I’ve taken guns, money, this car,” I said with a smile. “Just about everything I need. But I’m running out of weapons. I don’t have any guns right now—just a couple of knives.”
“What happens to it all?”
“I destroy it. One of the things Joseph, the original Wraith, taught me was to never leave a trace. If I use the same guns or wear the same clothes then get caught, all of this could be attached to me. It would put a face to the justice, and I want to stay enigmatic.”
“But the—” she waved her hands in front of her face, “—scarf you wear?”
I shrugged. “After we escaped the coffee shop back in Detroit it grew on me. I like it, so it’s my one thing, I guess.”
“If we’re going to build your legend, you’ll need a costume…”
“Nooo. Just no. Bulletproof vests and leather jackets will have to do. I’m not putting on tights,” I told her, glancing at her as I spoke. “And don’t give me that ‘I’m not great with no’ line. No.”
She smirked. “We’ll see. Is this you?”
Kenner on a Friday night was furiously busy. Couples were out celebrating, music played from half a dozen different restaurants and pubs, cars filled the streets; it was chaos. Infective chaos. I slowed down, letting the growl of the engine fill the air as I turned the last corner to the Peruvian restaurant I was temporarily calling home.
“Something’s wrong,” Sara said from the back seat. She leaned forward, nodding toward the eatery. The lights were low; if it weren’t for the open sign, I would have missed it
“Thanks,” I said out loud.
“For what?” Krisan asked.
“Not you. Scrunch down in the seat, I don’t want anyone seeing you.” Instead, she leaned forward, trying to look out the sides of the windshield. “Are you deaf? Get down.” I pushed her head down and she took the hint. Once I parked, I pulled out my phone and called hers. She answered without putting it to her ear. I slipped the Bluetooth earpiece into mine and tested the connection. She gave me a thumbs up.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure. Better safe than sorry, though. Stay here. Don’t get out. Keep the doors locked. Understand?”
“Sure,” she said.
“This isn’t a game, Krisan. I heal, you don’t. Do not get out of this car.”
With a little more conviction, she nodded. “I’ll stay put. Promise.”
I opened the door, resisting the urge to check my knives. I just had two; the one on my hip and one in my boot. I’d love a gun about now, but if I need one, I’m just going to have to take it.
With my cell in my left hand, I opened the door and stepped in, immediately tossing the phone into the trash bin. The Bluetooth was good for thirty feet or so. But if I was searched they’d shut the phone off and that would interfere with my plans to ambush them.
“That’s a lot of phones,” Krisan said.
“Focus on addresses; I want to know where each one belongs.”
“Can you give me five minutes?” she asked.
“I’ll try,” I whispered as the door shut behind me.
The lights came up, disrupting my vision. Two sets of strong hands grabbed either arm and a right cross caught me in the jaw, snappi
ng my head to the side. If I were a normal person I’d have dropped like a stone from that. So I feigned it, letting my body fall; the men beside me lifted me up.
“Wake up,” a man said as he slapped me across the face. Not hard enough to damage me, but hard enough to hurt.
He was in his thirties, with a shaved head and the brown skin of an immigrant from across the southern border. His accent said Mexico, but it was hard to tell sometimes.
I groaned and he slapped me again. I snapped my eyes open and glared at him. I held my powers back, not wanting to manifest anything—yet.
“Is this her?” he asked someone as he stepped back from me. I opened my eyes and saw who.
Alessandro. I so wasn’t surprised. His wife was kind, but he was too much like his daughter; uncaring and selfish. Of course he betrayed me.
“Yes. She is the one,” he said. “Can I go?”
The man with the shaved head, who, based on his appearance was probably Vaas, Peter’s older brother, nodded. Alessandro gave an awkward bow before turning and walking up the little stairs behind the dining room.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked me.
I let out a sigh, trying to play into the idea and build the notion in their minds that they had me. I wasn’t struggling or acting smug. Even though I felt that way on the inside. “No,” I lied.
“Good. So you are not all-knowing. Look here boys, we were afraid of this hombra?” Nervous laughter betrayed their true feelings. They were still afraid. “Tell me who helped you?”
I shook my head no. His predictable response was to rapid punch me in the stomach three times. The man was strong, I’d give him that. The third punch broke something inside and I let myself scream. The men holding me let go and I dropped to my knees holding my ribs.
“Hang in there, just a few more minutes. Do you want me to call Bill?” Krisan asked over the phone.
“No,” I gasped between breaths.
“You are stubborn, but everyone has a limit. Even tough girls who think they’re as strong as men.” He brought his foot up and kicked me in the side of the face. The blow snapped me around, sending me into the ground face first. I used my shoulder to hit but I still ended up seeing stars and tasting blood.
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