Wizard's Nocturne: The Sixth Jonathan Shade Novel

by Gary Jonas

  “I want to be young again, of course,” I said.

  “Do I know you?”

  “That would be telling.”

  “You look familiar,” she said squinting into my eyes and checking out my chin.

  I needed to throw her off. “Oh, you've seen me a few times. Once at Sully's on Lexington and once in Central Park. You saw me at the temple too, but you wouldn't have known.”

  “What's your name?” she asked, still studying me. I was so much older now, I didn't think she could possibly recognize me from my chin alone, especially since I'd put on some weight.

  “Better if I don't say,” I said. “I'm just here to warn you. That's all.”

  “Warn me about?”

  “Many years ago, I met a man from the future named Jonathan Shade. He and I spent some time together before he died.”

  She flinched when I mentioned the word “died.”

  “That man loved to sing the strangest songs,” I said, trying to lessen the blow. I started to say more, but she held up a hand.

  “Wait a minute. What do you mean 'before he died'?”

  “Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am. For me it's been so many years. I should have told you in a nicer way.”

  Rayna sat on the bed and buried her face in her hands. “He's really dead?” she said, her voice muffled. I let her cry for a few moments, but I was worried that Carlton might finish up in the bathroom and come down to check on her.

  “What happened?” Rayna asked, looking up at me.

  “There's not much I can tell you, Miss Noble. I met Jonathan in the 1870s. He was tracking down a man named Henry Winslow. A man I also now know very well. Jonathan told me some things that made me a wealthy man. In return, he asked me to keep an eye out for you. I got a message when you checked in to the Aberdeen, and Charlie told me you went to a speakeasy. I lost track of you a few times. As Jonathan used to say, getting old sucks.”

  “I don't understand.”

  “Jonathan asked me to pass you a message, but he told me not to give it to you until you'd found Winslow.”

  She perked up. “Message?”

  “He wanted me to tell you he missed you and that he loved you. And he wanted me to tell you not to try and fight Winslow.”

  “Why?”

  “He told me if I met Winslow, I'd know, but I've known Winslow for years, and I still don't understand it myself.”

  “I know he's dangerous.”

  “All men are dangerous,” I said. “I came here to get you out of this place.”

  “What about Kelly and Brand?”

  I didn't want to tell her they were both dead. Besides, there was an earlier version of Kelly still alive and kicking. I wasn't sure what to say, so I shrugged and said, “I don't know. Jonathan talked about them, but I don't know what happened. If they fulfilled their mission, they'll be along soon.”

  I pretended to hear something outside the door.

  “Someone's coming. You need to get out of here right now.”

  “Winslow won't hurt me.”

  “It isn't Winslow who scares me, Miss Noble. It's that madman, Carlton J. Penick.” I let that sink in because I couldn't imagine any woman meeting that little prick and not getting creeped out. “Come with me.”

  “If you want to live,” Rayna said.

  Shit. She was testing me. “What?” I asked, playing stupid.

  “The second Terminator movie. Jonathan and I watched it together on Blu-ray.”

  I shook my head. “I don't know what a Terminator or a Blu-ray is. They sound dangerous, though.”

  “You know what movies are, right?”

  I just wanted to get her out of here. I fought back my exasperation. “Of course. The General and Safety Last are my favorites.” I cringed because I realized The General hadn't been released yet.

  “I don't know those,” she said, and I relaxed.

  “Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd. They make wonderful movies. But we need to get you to safety.”

  I opened the door to reveal the two guards lying on the floor. We stepped over them, and I led her down a long staircase that spilled into the foyer and the front door.

  As we reached the door, I said, “Please do not pursue this any further. Jonathan did not wish to see you harmed.”

  “What about Kelly and Brand? If they show up, I mean.”

  “You may tell them where Winslow is living. And warn them about Carlton. He's the immediate threat. Be safe, my dear.”

  I turned away as she opened the door, and I headed back to the staircase. Carlton rushed over to the landing and stared down at me.

  “What have you done?” Carlton asked. “There are two men on the floor up here.”

  “I set her free,” I said, defiant. I continued up the stairs.

  “You should not have done that, Mr. Easton.” Carlton pushed past me and raced for the front door.

  “She's long gone,” I called after him.

  Rayna ran and he burst into the street after her. I pulled my mask down.

  “Gentlemen, you did an excellent job,” I said as I reached Rayna's door.

  They climbed to their feet. “What should we tell Mr. Penick?” one asked as he brushed himself off.

  “Tell him what I told you. If he has any questions, I'll be in the library.”

  “Yes, sir. Should we stay here at the door?”

  I grinned. “Not necessary. Wait for Mr. Penick, fill him in, and you can go about your business studying.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  I returned to the library, picked up my book and waited for the fury of Carlton J. Penick to rain down on me like holy fire from hell. I couldn't keep the grin off my face.

  ***

  “How dare you!” Carlton said as he stormed into the library. He slammed the door behind himself like a five-year-old throwing a temper tantrum.

  I kept my nose in my book and didn't acknowledge his existence.

  “Hey!” he said. “I'm talking to you!”

  I held up a finger. “Let me finish this chapter.”

  He walked up and slapped the book out of my hands. It landed on the floor with a loud thwack. “You'll listen when I'm talking to you!”

  I gave him my best bored-now look. “You forget that I'm above you in the hierarchy, Carlton. You might want to take that tone of voice you're using and shove it right up your ass.”

  “What?”

  “Right up your ass,” I said again. “I don't stutter.”

  “I can destroy you!”

  “Use your inside voice, and before we go on, you're going to pick up my book and place it gently on the table.”

  “I will do no such thing.”

  “Then we're through here,” I said and stood.

  Penick tried to shove me back in my seat, but while I'd put on a few years and thirty extra pounds, I was not a pushover. I caught his wrist, twisted, and put him on the floor in pain. I stepped around and casually put him into an arm bar, keeping his wrist bent at a steep angle.

  “Do you want me to see if your knuckles will reach your forearm?” I asked.

  “Ahhh!” was all he could manage while I kept the pressure on.

  “It's time for you to listen to me,” I said. “I'm the one who brought you aboard. If you don't play by my rules, I'll toss you out on your skinny white ass. Do you feel me?”

  “Unnnhhh.”

  “I'll take that as a yes. I'm going to let you go now, and we'll discuss this like civilized human beings, or I'll plant your face into the floor. Do you understand?”

  He didn't say anything.

  I applied more pressure, and he grunted in pain. “Do you understand?” I asked again, my voice calm.

  He nodded and I let him go.

  He cradled his wrist and got to one knee. “You almost broke my wrist,” he said.

  “A few more pounds of pressure would have done it,” I said. “I just needed to lean in a bit. Aren't you glad I'm such a nice guy? Now . . . you were saying?”

 
“You should not have let Rayna Noble go free.”

  “She isn't part of the ritual, and she's nothing more than a distraction. She won't be back.”

  “I had plans for her.”

  “That's why I let her go.”

  “But you need me!”

  “Not that badly. We can still be mutually beneficial to one another. But it has to be worth it to me to put up with your shit.”

  “You'll grow old and die without me.”

  “I might do that even with you. As for you, I had no idea you had cancer,” I lied.

  “I'm not sure how Henry knew that,” Carlton said.

  “When it comes to leverage, you need me a lot more than I need you,” I said. “With a word, I can have you cast out of Alpha et Omega, and you won't be involved in the ritual at all. Henry may leave me behind, but that would be better than watching you let any power attained go right to your head.”

  “Rayna Noble isn't even human,” Carlton said.

  “She's human. She has a few extra abilities, but she's still human. Just as you have extra abilities when it comes to wielding magic.”

  “Something you don't have, Mr. Easton.”

  “Keep in mind that no matter how powerful you are, if you're starting from nothing, you need five seconds to pull up enough magic to use it.”

  “So?”

  “I can break your nose in one second.”

  He blinked and realized I was serious. “But . . .”

  “One second,” I said.

  As he was still hurting from my wrist and arm lock, he knew I was telling the truth.

  “What if Rayna goes to the police?”

  “You should not have killed the detective,” I said.

  “He was in the way. She needed to know I meant business.”

  “New rule,” I said. “You're not allowed to kill anyone. Henry reached the pinnacle of power without taking a life. You must abide by that rule or you're done.”

  “You can't stop me, Mr. Easton. I can start my own group if I need to.”

  I shook my head. “Carlton, Carlton, Carlton. When I say 'done,' I don't mean that I'll simply kick you out of the temple. I mean that I will end you.”

  “You?” His derisive tone grated on my nerves.

  “I haven't killed anyone since October 14th, 1877, and I don't want any more blood on my hands, so don't put me in that position.”

  “But--”

  “We have nothing more to discuss,” I said.

  He fumed for a moment then turned to leave.

  “Hold on, Carlton,” I said.

  He stopped.

  I waited until he looked at me. Then I pointed to the book on the floor. “You still need to pick up my book.”

  He hesitated.

  Finally he stooped and retrieved the book. He made a big production of holding it up and gently placing it on the table beside me. He tapped the top of the book once, gave me one last look to tell me without words that he wasn't through with me and I'd best watch my step, then left me alone.

  I grinned, took the book, and flipped through it to find my page.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Four ordinary-looking people stood in a straight line on the doorstep of the Thoth Hermes Temple No 9. I answered the door myself because I'd been expecting someone, but I wasn't sure exactly who or what might show up after I'd placed the call a few days back.

  “Jon Easton?” one of the men asked. He was bald, wore glasses, and while his suit was cut to hide some of his extra weight, it was clear he could stand to lose fifty pounds. He was also obviously the leader.

  Of the others, two were male and one was female. The woman looked like an average housewife. She wore a gray dress and carried her purse clutched before her in white-gloved hands. Her hair was bobbed and perfectly combed beneath the small hat she wore. She was not attractive, but she was not unattractive either. She was, in every sense of the word, average.

  The remaining men were tall and slender. They wore inexpensive suits bought off the rack, and their shoes were old and in need of a shine. They wore their hair slicked back, and if they stood in a crowd, nobody would ever notice them.

  “I'm Jon Easton,” I said.

  All four spoke at once. “We are Vanguard.”

  “You sent only four?”

  “Four will be sufficient,” the leader said. “Should this require more, we will send for a squad.”

  “Do you have names?” I asked. “I'd like to know who I'm talking to.”

  “You may call us Pat.”

  “Pat?”

  “Short for Patrick or for Patricia.”

  “Each of you is named Pat?”

  “You don't need to know our names. We will answer to Pat. May we enter the building?”

  “Of course. Please come in.”

  They stepped inside and reassembled in a straight line.

  “You called for a reanimated corpse disposal unit.”

  “All right, let me tell you about the dead man in question.”

  “That will not be necessary. Do we need to relocate the corpse before disposal?”

  “He's in the basement.”

  “Is the basement fireproof?”

  “No.”

  “In that case, we shall channel the blast.”

  “The dead man is a powerful wizard, and--”

  “That will not matter.” They each made a quick gesture, and gleaming swords appeared in their hands. “We will dismember then destroy the body, and he will no longer have a vessel. Any threat he posed will be eliminated. Take us to the basement.”

  “Right this way,” I said and led them to the basement door.

  I started to go down the stairs, but the woman lowered her sword to block my path. “We'll take it from here. You do not want to be in the basement when this happens. We cannot guarantee your survival.”

  “Check on the results in one hour,” the leader said and closed the door.

  I'd learned about the Vanguard when I helped a man from Italy named Giovanni deal with a rogue wizard in 1920. He told me about how he'd lost his family to the flu pandemic after moving to Chicago. He said spirits were feeding on the deaths of millions. While those spirits had nothing to do with starting the pandemic, Giovanni thought they might have extended it, so he had the Vanguard wipe out a band of them by possessing dying people and drinking the spirits when they came to feed. The vessels still died from the flu, but they would have died anyway. Giovanni gave me their number, and I tucked it away in case I ever needed them.

  The problem with the Vanguard was that when their spirits possessed a body, the body always died. If the body survived the battle, the only way the spirit could get back home was to kill the body. They were not the first line of defense in any battle; they were the last.

  I went to my office on the first floor so I could listen through my vent to hear what, if anything, was said. When I'd had the temple renovated five years back, I'd had the workers create a ventilation shaft that led directly from the basement to an office I often used on the first floor. I opened the vent now.

  “Who are you?” Winslow asked.

  “That is not important,” the leader said.

  “What do you--?”

  The sound of steel crashing against something solid rang out.

  “How dare you attack me,” Winslow said.

  “He is shielded from our weapons. Channel and direct now,” the leader said.

  “I don't think you sh--”

  Winslow didn't finish the statement. An explosion shook the temple.

  I moved back from the vent, and flames shot through right where I'd been leaning over to listen.

  The flames dissipated.

  My curtains smoked and my wall was singed, but aside from the smell, which reminded me of the scent of a wooden match being lit, there was nothing.

  “That was interesting,” Winslow said.

  I rushed from my office, threw open the basement door, and descended the stairs.

  The
basement was filled with acrid smoke, and a wall of heat slammed into me.

  Winslow sat against the far wall, undamaged. Off to the sides, I saw four ghosts, three male, one female. Two wore medieval armor, the woman wore a sleeveless dress tied with a brown leather belt and was missing a breast, and the last wore the garb of a Roman centurion.

  “What happened?” I asked, waving smoke away. I kept my distance. “Are you all right?”

  “Someone tried to kill me,” Winslow said, “but I'm already dead.”

  The spirits said nothing and didn't move. Winslow had captured them and pinned them to the wall to serve as ghostly trophies.

  “Who would do that?” I asked. “How would they even know you're here?”

  “It matters not.”

  As the smoke slowly cleared, I saw eight sticks standing in a row and four swords lying on the stone floor. I squinted and realized the sticks were the skeletal calves and feet of the three men and the woman the Vanguard had possessed. Four casualties in a lost battle. The rest of the bodies had been disintegrated.

  There had been four of them, each with swords and magic, and they'd had the element of surprise on their side.

  “I beg to differ,” I said. “We need to add security if someone is trying to destroy you before you're even whole.”

  Winslow laughed. “No security is required, Mr. Easton. I am indestructible.”

  He gave me a smile.

  Did he suspect me? Did he know Easton wasn't my name?

  Henry and I had told Carlton that Henry would be indestructible, but neither of us believed that. It was just a story to build the mystique.

  And I knew Winslow's body was not impervious to harm. I'd helped carry it here. It was a normal body. But Winslow didn't trust anyone, and he clearly had the power to create a force field around the body to keep it safe.

  “I'll send someone down to clean up the mess,” I said. “If you need anything, please let me or Carlton know.”

  “Very good, Mr. Easton,” he said. “And I thank you for your concern.”

  Was he being sarcastic? I couldn't tell.

  I nodded and left the basement. At this hour of the day, most of the temple members were at their various day jobs. The few who rushed to the basement stopped when they saw me. Thaddeus was among them.

  “Spell went bad,” I said. “No real damage but it might be best to avoid the basement for a few hours.”