Chapter 24
The Divination had a “Closed” sign on the doors. That alone would have made me realize that something was up, since it was a nightclub. However, before I even parked I noticed there were a total of three cars in the parking lot. Aside from that, the place was exactly as I’d left it. I parked and headed toward the door.
The place was emptier now that it was when I’d first arrived, but if Lance wasn’t here, I’d be sure to knock skulls around until I found him. Gripping my staff tightly in my right hand, I got back onto my sore legs and walked forward.
It was locked, predictably, but they couldn’t expect that to keep me out. With a swift pound of my staff on the pavement, the glass sprayed outward.
This is it, Thomas. Ingram is here. The killer is here.
My unease at that thought startled me like a speed bump in the path. I’d been a guardian, sure, but I’d never killed anyone. For the most part, I’d dealt with pesky teenagers who stumble upon the laws of magic. The worst fighting I’d ever seen was during my training. Sure, I had enough pent up emotion to lash at Ingram, but even that wasn’t enough to make me want to be a killer.
But I couldn’t run away, either. Running now would leave everyone in danger. After Lance, Ingram would go to the hospital to take out Bree. Then, depending on how much she’d learned, he might go after Lara, or Cameron. I couldn’t let that happen. No, it had to end now.
I swallowed painfully, grimacing as I my feet crunched onto the fallen shards of glass.
The lights were out, possibly by Ingram’s version of the same EMP spell I’d used earlier. The wood on my staff had a comfortable familiarity to it, but against the Pyromancer that Ingram seemed to be, it may not be the most useful tool. I became acutely aware of the weight of the gun I’d taken from Cameron in my pocket. Before stepping into the inner, entryway door, I pulled it out.
The door opened silently. The smell of bleach, blood, and just a hint of booze filled the stuffy air. I slid quietly in the second set of doors. The room was ominously massive around me.
The dance floor was large and empty. From the looks of it, the balcony was as well. The wide, dark balcony wrapped around the entire room, offering dozens of potential viewpoints. The darkness around me was so thick that I feared taking even a single step.
With my staff held before me, and my intuition screaming, I held my head low and tried to walk quietly along the wall.
Earlier, Lance had been in an offshoot just to the right of the door. A kind of “bar-within-a-bar.” I headed there, both because I knew it, and because I’d be better hidden with fewer bad angles.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw that no one was behind the alcohol-slicked bar, nor was anyone in any of the tables that were visible.
That didn’t mean much. Every table had six-foot tall barriers for backrests, offering somewhat secluded seating. This bar had more barriers to my line-of-sight than a corn-maze. The room itself, however, was fairly narrow. I stepped slowly down the central aisle toward the bar. Ingram could be anywhere. And most likely, he was alone.
My feet were ready to leap at the first hint of danger. I activated my vision to no affect. If he’d rigged the place up to explode, as he’d done to Bree’s house, the place would be positively glowing, but he hadn’t. There was nothing there.
Or almost nothing.
I realized that my initial gaze wasn’t entirely accurate. I couldn’t point to it exactly, but an invisible, intangible power wove through the air. It was only as noticeable as a gentle wind before a storm. Not quite there, but possessing a dominant presence you simply can’t deny.
A small noise came from one of the walled-in booths, and I ducked, turning toward it with my staff in hand. It sounded like a heel stepping on the floor. Sliding silently toward the booth, I kept close to the wall as I looked around, frantically trying to see everything around me at the same time.
Then, with my staff in one hand and the gun in the other, I peered quickly around the wall where I saw Lance Ruben sitting alone in one of the booths with his hands under the table. His mouth had a thick band of cloth wrapped around it, and he looked up at me. Lance wasn’t afraid – on the contrary, he seemed just a tiny bit annoyed.
That’s when I made my biggest mistake – I leaned my staff against the table, turned toward Lance and pulled off his gag.
“Thomas, you’re an idiot,” Lance explained to me.
“Don’t move,” Ingram ordered, standing up from his barely passable hiding spot in the final booth, nearest the bar. With his focus rod aimed directly at me, I didn’t have a chance at turning toward him and shooting him.
“Mr. Amberose,” Lance said with a pained smile. His bone-white hair was frazzled, but nothing in his calm, powerful demeanor changed since I’d last seen him. “How nice of you to stop by.”
“Yeah, it’s been awhile,” I said, fully aware of the weapon he held at my back. “Just thought I’d come by. Check in. Let you know that I knew who killed Emmitt.”
“Ah, yes. I figured as such,” Lance said. “So what now?”
Feeling naked and vulnerable, wearing nothing but my polyester robe, I tossed Cameron’s gun onto the table and turned my head toward Ingram, who held up his thin whip of a wand.
“Nuh-uh. Pick up the gun,” Ingram ordered to me.
I hesitated.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Ingram offered. “I swear to you by the use of my magic that if you kill Lance and leave without retaliation against me, that I’ll not come after you for twenty-four hours.”
I hesitated, realizing the implications of what he’d said. Words such as those, when spoken by a mage, have a certain power to them. If I agreed to what he said, he’d be bound to an Oath.
An Oath between two mages is something of everlasting power, so long as both mages understand it in the same way. In other words, he had to let me leave if I killed Lance, or he’d never cast a spell again. Honestly, it was kind of a stupid move, since Oaths are highly illegal without authorization by the Council, but apparently Ingram didn’t follow their laws as closely as I do. Furthermore, if I agreed and somehow tricked him into attacking me, he’d never cast again.
But as far as Oaths went, this one was pretty solid. In order to activate it, I’d have to kill Lance, which wasn’t on my list of tasks for the day. I bit down hard as I thought of my options.
“And if I just walk out of here?”
“I’ll kill you before you reach the door. Burn down the place and still see Lance dead.”
“Why kill him? I mean, sure, he’s a bit of an asshole – no offense,” I nodded to Lance. “But why?”
“Does it matter?” Ingram said. I scowled, hoping he’d give away his plan. He was a bad guy, after all, with a goatee and everything. Isn’t bragging about their plans what they do?
I cautiously turned my head back to Lance as I got some stupid idea. It probably wouldn’t work. But then, I didn’t think summoning the ghost would have worked after the party. The way I saw it, I couldn’t kill Lance. If I did the Imperium would find me and kill me. I might survive the night, but not the year. Instead, I brought the equations I needed to mind as I asked, “Why not just kill him yourself?”
“Cameras,” he said dully. “I deactivated the one that can see me, but not the one that can see you two. Now, I’m going to count to five. When I get to–”
“For the record,” I interrupted. “You’re going down regardless. Let me guess. The Imperium put you up to this. They wanted Lance dead, but they wanted deniability, so you used the ghost.”
“Exactly. They say pride is a sin, but honestly I feel it was a rather well put together plan. Don’t you?”
“Nah,” I said. “Someone will figure out you did it, and when they do, you’ll take all the blame. Lance’s replacement will kill you, or the Imperium will turn you over to him. You’ll be just a rogue mage, regardless of whether you did it under their orders or not.”
“The Imperium is good to th
eir own, Thomas,” he said.
“Yeah, like they were good to me.” I said with a forced chuckle. “I tried to take the initiative once. We all know Lance is corrupt to the core – do you know what the Imperium did to me when I tried to prove it?”
Ingram snarled, “Does it matter? Kill him.”
“I’ll tell you what they did. They fired me. You know, I was wrong about you,” I said. “This whole time I figured I was working against some Bond-style mastermind who had it all planned out from the beginning. You know Bree hates me, so you planted the wedding ring in my apartment. You wanted her to find it and assumed she’d just blame me. Trouble is, Bree may hate me, but I’m no killer, and she knows that. She didn’t even bother searching my place for the ring. And you couldn’t do it, obviously, because you planted it in the first place. Sorry, bud, but your plan sucks.”
“I admit, I read Bree wrong,” Ingram said. “But when I have photographic evidence, it won’t matter. Five,” he began the countdown.
“Except then I came snooping around. At the banquet, I took an interest in Katherine. You knew that if I spoke to her, it’d only be a matter of time before I started looking for Kelly, who you’d already disposed of. You panicked, and changed your plans mid-stride. You blinded Bree and summoned the ghost. Bree figured I went after Daniel – a theory you backed up, am I right?”
I spoke every word, hoping my speech wouldn’t end with an explosive grand finale. Yet it needed to be said, for Lance’s benefit as well as for mine. He needed the truth for the slim chance we both survived the encounter.
“Four–” Ingram continued.
I interrupted him again. “Tell me, did you burn down my house?”
He snarled slightly. “Bree refused to check it for evidence, clinging onto the possibility that you were innocent. If she had, she’d have found Kelly’s wedding ring. I needed to give her an excuse.”
“Thomas, if you’re working an angle, then get to it already,” Lance said.
“Here’s my deal, Bub,” I said, trying to sound fierce in my robe. “Get the hell out of here. Bree already knows it’s you, thanks to your booby trap. She survived, by the way, and she’s one tough lady. I’m sure she’ll pull through and squeal to the council. Probably already has. Get out of here now, and no one dies.”
“I prefer my idea,” he said, flicking his wand toward my chest. “Don’t be a fool, Thomas. I’m giving you the opportunity to survive! Three.”
“You think the Imperium will believe this?” I flicked my hand up to gesture to the unknown camera.
“Actually, Thomas, I figure I’ll just give it to the cops,” Lance explained. “You’re out of my hair away either way.” With a ring on every other finger and the metal rod aimed at my back, I knew Ingram would kill me straight up if I tried to run. And even if I could run, a sound from outside gave me a start – police sirens were exiting the highway. They grew louder, as if on his cue to Ingram’s words. Through the tinted windows, I saw a flicker of blue and red lights. “Either way, you’re screwed. Damned if you do – shot in the back if you don’t,” Ingram finished.
I swore at the table and grabbed the gun. A life behind bars, or a life lasting a few more seconds. Which would be better?
I looked at Lance carefully. He stared timidly back at me. He may have his hands bound, but I was the one who was trapped. Swallowing, I made my decision as I put my finger on the trigger.
“Last words?” Ingram said to Lance, unable to hide the giddiness in his tone.
Lance looked at me unconcerned. I half expected him to beg. To plea for his life, yet he didn’t. Whoever Lance Ruben was – whatever he’d been through, it had simply taken all fear of death out of him. He stared heartlessly, lowering his eyebrows in a baleful resentment. I gave him a few seconds, taking a careful aim with a two-handed grip.
Outside, a muffled but discernible voice made its way through the walls. “Thomas Amberose, we know you’re in there. Come out with your hands up.”
Some say there isn’t absolute good or absolute evil in the world. Do I agree? It honestly doesn’t matter. In a time like this, faced with the choice of death or life, it simply didn’t occur to me to do anything else. I made my choice as I pulled the trigger.
Modern Pantheon: Ghost Page 23
