Night Call (Book 3): Rock Paper Sorcery

by Hayward, L. J.

  “Oh, ha ha.”

  We left, Erin in her car, me in the floundering Kraken. It was a particularly bitter defeat, getting back in the 4WD. After even such a brief exposure to a real vehicle—half of which I couldn’t bloody well remember, stupid berserk rage—I was irritated afresh by the whole clunkiness of it. Grumbling all the way, I went back to Dutton Park Cemetery. If Kermit refused to come topside because of the sunlight, I’d find a backhoe and dig him out. This thing was getting done.

  Driving past and seeing the concentration of folks around the south side, where Tanqueray had Hulked his way through peoples’ fences, I forewent my usual park and pulled over a couple of streets away. Walking in, I marvelled at the absence of pain. Left arm, great. Head, clear as. Even the reconstructed knee was keeping quiet, for once. Sweet. I should get a good night’s sleep more often.

  Of course, the nearness and number of curious folks about the place would only make coaxing Kermit out of the ground harder, but I felt so good, I was actually looking forward to the challenge. I will admit, giving Kermit a phone had made the whole process easier. Without a working device, however, I had to go old fashioned.

  In his little grove, I couched and put my hand on Patrick Kenniff’s stone cross. I fed a touch of psychic energy through it and down into the ground.

  “Kermit, it’s me. Can we talk?”

  I waited. Then waited some more. Then tried again.

  “The sorcerer isn’t here, it’s just me. Come on up.”

  Finally, the earth began to shift subtly and I stood, stepping back. I might not be as repulsed by Kermit himself as much as I used to be, but I didn’t like the way he came out of the ground. It was just downright creepy, such a big thing oozing out of the dirt like it was being born. Creepy and, when you’ve gone downward the same way, the seed of many a nightmare.

  When he was clear of the earth, Kermit stood and hunched his way into the cover of the trees.

  “Why are you here at this un-Godly time of day?” he groused.

  Today’s ensemble was ghoul de rigueur, meaning the scavenged scraps of funerary finery. A man’s dress jacket and a woman’s bloomers, the ones with the frilly lace hems. Ghouls are all about comfort, not conforming to narrow-minded opinions.

  “Since we got a little distracted last night, I thought I’d see if you had that information you promised Erin. Oh, and I wanted to thank you properly, for last night. For saving me, for helping Mercy, for, I guess, just being here.” I said it in a great rush. I felt these things, and it was nice to let the other person know you appreciated them, but this was Kermit.

  He stared at me, eyes wide, then burst out laughing. The bastard crouched in the shade, slapping his knee and gasping for air. When he got himself under control, he looked at me again, and it started all over.

  It was a waiting game. I wished I had my phone. Could have got a couple of levels of Shark Dash done. The hard levels.

  “Oh, oh,” Kermit finally managed. “Do that again. It was hysterical. You, thanking me, and meaning it. My heart’s all aflutter.”

  It might also have been full of lead, if I hadn’t tossed my gun in a fit of irrational emotional breakdown.

  “Laugh all you want,” I snapped. “I did mean it and I’m really grateful. So fucking grateful, in fact, I’m going to do what I can to keep Dev from telling the Council you’re here, okay?”

  That shut him up. Kermit went still, eyeing me cautiously. “So,” he said eventually. “You finally found out. I knew I’d regret you starting to get a clue. Just thought it would be because you’d get all hoity-toity again.”

  Forcing myself to calm down, I crouched nearby. Upwind, but fairly close. “I don’t know everything. Just what Erin told me. Dev doesn’t like ghouls, but he seems to have a personal hate on for you. I don’t know why, but I’ll do what I can to keep him off you.”

  Kermit nodded slowly. “That would be… novel. No one’s done anything like that for me in the past.”

  Since we were here and all, getting all honest and shit, I offered, “Do you want talk about it?”

  Thankfully, Kermit snorted (still hadn’t worked out how he did that without a nose). “Not really. Didn’t you come here for some information?”

  Not the subtlest topic change, but there you go. Sometimes direct is best.

  “Yeah.”

  “You know, I could have just emailed it to you.”

  I didn’t know if it was endearing or disturbing that an Old World creature had embraced the digital age so thoroughly.

  “In fact, you can’t at the moment. My phone’s dead.”

  “Oh, the swim, sure. You should have ditched it before going into the water. It’s what I do.”

  “And how many times are you dragged into the river by ensorcelled ex-NRL players?”

  “Um, nil.”

  “Right. Until you experience it for yourself, no smart arse comments. Besides, it was dead before then. One of Dev’s tricks killed it.”

  Kermit scowled (again, no eyebrows, so it’s a wonder he could manage it). “Bloody sorcerers. Messing with the natural world.”

  “Mobile phones are hardly part of the natural world.”

  “Tell that to Gen Y.”

  Really, his cultural savvy was scary.

  “So, what did you discover?”

  “There are seven locations of concentrated earth sorcery in the city,” he said. “Got a map? I can mark them for you.”

  “Um, I don’t carry maps generally.”

  “Sheesh. All right, wait here.”

  I studied the trees while Kermit slithered into the ground and out again a couple of minutes later. He had an old map of Brisbane, one of those paper ones that come all neatly folded but once spread out, never fold back up the same way ever again. With the map laid out on the ground, he referred to his phone and marked the locations down with a red pen.

  Wrestling the awkward map into something slightly portable, I thanked him again and we had a bit of an awkward, silent moment, before he sank back into the ground and I walked away.

  Right. Time to get the errant weather sorcerer and get something done.

  Chapter 38

  “I can’t find Dev,” Erin announced when I walked into the office.

  “What?”

  She sat at her desk, frowning worriedly at the computer. “I transferred the SIM to the new phone and it’s all working, but there are no messages from Dev. So I called his hotel. They haven’t seen him since you picked him up yesterday morning.”

  “That doesn’t sound too good.”

  “No.”

  “But it doesn’t scream panic to me,” I added wryly. “I think he’s been looking for a chance to ditch me since the first day. Maybe he’s just doing his own thing, now that he’s a bit more familiar with the place.”

  Yes, I did worry that he was off planning a ghoul-raid, but seriously, if he was more worried about that than this rogue sorcerer, then he had his priorities all twisted around and lodged firmly up his arse… eh, ass. That, or whatever Kermit had done was very bad indeed.

  “Perhaps,” Erin said, though she didn’t really sound agreeable.

  Oh, that’s right. She was part of the Texan Twang Appreciation Society.

  “Anyway,” I announced loudly, “I got the info from Kermit.”

  Erin watched, mildly amused and not so mildly annoyed while I cleared a space on her desk. Taking out the misshapen map, I spent a minute unfolding it and then laid it out.

  “Right. I think we can safely disregard the Botanic Gardens, New Farm and Coorparoo.” I grabbed a pen and put a cross through those red circles. “Leaves us four places to check out.”

  Erin made note of them in her phone. “Kangaroo Point, Salisbury, Coopers Plain and Acacia Ridge. At least they’re relatively close together.”

  “See this,” I said, tapping the map. “The Coopers Plain address is the QEII hospital.”

  Erin met my gaze. “Does that mean something?”

  “Per
haps. The earth sorcerer had to come into contact with Tanqueray somehow. A public place is more likely than somewhere private.”

  “Right.” She tapped at her keyboard, then nodded. “Apparently, Tanqueray was there at the beginning of the week, dedicating a new rehabilitation ward.”

  I frowned. “So, he was potentially caught by the sorcerer before I ran into him. Literally.”

  “See. Coincidence.”

  “Whatevs.”

  “And if my memory serves,” Erin said musingly, tap tap tapping again. “Henry Tanqueray lives in Kangaroo Point.”

  “So that cuts us down to two locations. Should we get this barrel in the river?”

  “I’d rather have Dev with us,” Erin said as she went to the office safe and opened it. “He was incredibly helpful yesterday.”

  I watched curiously, since she had her shoulder holster on, Glock in place, already. “You say that, one, like you expect us to run into trouble, and B, as if I’m about as useful as tits on a bull.”

  “Look at the common denominator in your two examples.”

  Thinking it through, I came up with, “Me?”

  She just smirked at me and handed over a Glock.

  So, we’ve established the fact they’re not my favourite gun, for various reasons. That didn’t mean I didn’t know the differences in their models.

  Erin carried a Glock 19. What she handed over was a Glock 26. Should be bigger than a 19, right? Wrong. The 26 is also known as a Baby Glock.

  I eyed it sceptically. “Didn’t I make my point last night?”

  “No, you just made a stupid, reckless mistake in a fit of melodrama. Take the gun.”

  Trying not to sound sulky, or as if I agreed with her estimation of my tossing the Cougar, I said, “I don’t want the little gun.”

  “Well, you’re not getting mine.”

  Grumbling, I took the Glock 26. She also handed over a belt holster. Thankfully. I put the gun in it and tucked the smallish leather package in the back of my jeans. Okay, it felt a bit reassuring. A bit, only, because it was practically half the size of the Cougar. Well, slight exaggeration, but it was lighter and I’d become very used to the weight of the Cougar.

  We left in Erin’s car. A safer prospect than the Blue Whale. I noticed, almost immediately, that we weren’t heading to either of our ghoul-sponsored destinations.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To Dev’s hotel. I want to check his room.”

  I groaned but didn’t protest. Maybe he had slipped in the shower.

  At the hotel, Erin walked right past reception and to the elevators.

  “You know which room he’s in?”

  “Yeah, he told me.”

  I guess the growl wasn’t as sub-vocal as I thought, judging by the way Erin snapped around and frowned at me.

  In the elevator, where it was just us and an elderly couple, Erin murmured, “What is wrong with you? I mean, apart from all the other things we’ve already discussed. You’ve been acting weird about Dev since he arrived in town.”

  The old guy slid me a sidelong, sympathetic look.

  “I’m not acting weird,” I replied, even and totally cool. While my hands curled into fists.

  “Yes, you are. Is it some sort of alpha male thing?”

  “Alpha male thing?”

  “Yes, a thing. A stupid, pointless man thing.”

  “Amen,” the other woman muttered.

  I was too busy sharing a what-can-you-do look with the husband to get an answer in before Erin carried on.

  “You’ve spent so long being the only…” She gave the other couple a mildly irritated look and went with, “person of your skills in the city that the moment someone else shows up, your ego goes into overdrive.”

  “Hah, like anyone can have an ego around you.”

  Um, hello, filter? You used to be there, stopping me from putting my feet in it, mostly. Sort of. Well, with Erin, at least. Usually.

  She either ignored that or, more likely, stored it away for a tactical strike at a later date.

  “You can’t tell me it hasn’t entered your head that the reason Dev hasn’t got in touch is because he was…” Another annoyed pause. “You know.”

  I knew? Erin, and the oldies, were looking at me, waiting for the light bulb to go on.

  Ding.

  No. Not the Idea Ding. The elevator door ding. They opened and the married couple got out. The guy gave me a discreet thumbs up as he went.

  Erin thumped me the moment the doors closed. “What if Dev was caught by the earth sorcerer?”

  “Ow.” And, “Oh! Yeah. I guess that’s a possibility.”

  “And?”

  “And what? We’re doing what we can to find this bastard. Which, might I remind you, neither of us are getting paid for. Technically, it’s got nothing to do with either of us.”

  Ding.

  Same ding as before.

  I stepped out of the elevator and looked both ways up the corridor. “Which number is he?”

  Erin stared at me. “Oh my God.”

  “What?”

  “Do you really not care if Dev’s in trouble? He could be hurt, or dead. And you’re worried about a paycheque?”

  “Look, Dev hasn’t been exactly forthcoming about this whole thing, has he? He’s made it pretty clear that he’s suffering me on Aurum’s insistence. I’ve dropped everything else to help him and what have I got out of it? Potential charges for destruction of public property and aggravated assault. Memories of a couple of deaths I’m not likely to forget any time soon. My best friend’s car smashed up. A near drowning and my vampire’s neck broken. Not to mention the rats. I don’t know about you, but nothing in there sounded like a thank you to me.”

  Yeah, seemed like the filter was completely gone. But, you know what, I didn’t care. I was tired of being used and abused. This was the second time Aurum had put his meddling fingers in my life and it was two times too many. And where did Dev get off, swaggering in and thinking he was all that, flinging his sorcery all over the place? It was his fault Mercy was lying in a neck brace right now. She could have died. She could be goo soaking into the ground at Dutton Park Cemetery, all because of Randy Devan-fucking-tier.

  Teeth gritted, I demanded, “What number?”

  Erin had gone pale, but she didn’t budge. “Not until you calm down.”

  “I am,” I bit out, “perfectly calm.”

  “No, you’re not. Matt, your eyes, they’ve gone silver.”

  “I don’t care if they’re shooting flames. You want to find Dev, then let’s find Dev. What fucking number?”

  She shook her head firmly.

  “Fine. I’ll start knocking on doors.”

  Spinning, I stalked to the first door. I raised my hand, ready to knock, and looked at Erin, giving her a final chance.

  “Matt, you’re not acting like yourself. Calm down.”

  “No number? Right.”

  I stepped back, judged the distance, and blasted the door with a burst of telekinesis.

  The door frame shattered around the lock and the door smashed inward so hard it bounced shut again. I shoved through it.

  “Randy? Randy Devantier?” I called in a singsong voice.

  “Matthew,” Erin hissed from the doorway as I wandered in. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Wow, so they spent all the money on the chandelier downstairs, huh.” I kicked open the door to the bathroom. “Nope, hasn’t fallen in the shower. Next room?”

  I turned to leave and came face to gaping black hole with Erin.

  She closed the broken door behind her with her foot and shoved the small hall table in front of it to keep it that way, all the while keeping me in the crosshairs of her gun.

  “No next room until you tell me what’s going on. You aren’t usually this…”

  I looked past the barrel of the gun and cocked an eyebrow. “This what? Honest?”

  “No. Heartless. I think it’s more than Dev. I think it’s pa
rt of what you were talking about last night, about your arm. Maybe this is something neurological.”

  “I’m fine.” Waved my fully functional left arm to prove it. “Whatever it was, it’s gone.”

  “Maybe it’s just changed targets.”

  I laughed. “Get a grip. Come on, put the gun away and let’s find Dev.”

  Erin eyed me warily.

  “I promise not to break anymore doors.” Crossed my heart and everything.

  Slowly, she put the gun down, then holstered it. “All right. No more door breaking.”

  I waved grandly and she lead the way out of the empty room. Her shoulders were stiff though, as if she expected me to plunge a knife between them. I sneered. Of the two of us, she was the proven backstabber.

  Erin went to room 812 and, with a quick look at me, knocked on the door. We waited. No answer. She knocked again, a bit harder.

  “Dev? It’s Erin and Matt. Are you there?”

  Still nothing.

  “You want me to knock?” I asked innocently.

  Her back went perfectly straight. “I think if he was in there, he would have answered.”

  “Not if he’s slipped in the shower and cracked his head open.”

  “I’m pretty sure he hasn’t slipped—”

  Tired of this game, I shoved her aside and blew the door in.

  “Oh look, it was open all along.” I went in.

  Swearing under her breath, Erin followed.

  The room proved to be as empty as the first one. I knew it was definitely Dev’s because there was his jacket hanging on the back of a chair and a packet of burn dressings in the bathroom.

  “No sign of disturbance,” Erin said because apparently she was the only one with eyes.

  “He hasn’t been back since yesterday morning.”

  One eyebrow raised, she asked, “How can you be so sure?”

  I pointed to the untouched bottle of Bundaberg Rum on the bench, a ‘With Compliments’ card tied around the neck. “He was pretty keen to have that waiting for him when he got back. If he’d been back, he would’ve opened it for at least one drink.”