by MJ Kraus
I looked down at my chest and saw the jagged tears through my shirt and jacket that were both stained red with blood. My arms were dripping as well and I wiped them against the sides of my pants as I pulled my jacket open to get a closer look at the wounds. As I did I realized that the lump I had been carrying inside my jacket was gone and my gut twisted as the full realization of what had just happened exploded in my mind.
“The whole thing…” I shook my head and whispered to myself as I felt the long tears in my jacket from which the book had been extracted. “The whole thing was just a distraction.”
“Shit!” I took my frustration and rage out on the closest vehicle to me, throwing my fists down onto the trunk lid and releasing the stored up energy. Sparks showered into the air and the alarms of every vehicle on the floor began blaring from the reverberations of my blows. After a moment I relented and sagged against the vehicle, feeling exceptionally sorry for myself.
I had been played for a fool and made to look like a child by a trio of some of the lowest, dirtiest and scummiest creatures to ever be Touched. And now the book was undoubtedly back in the possession of their master and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it.
Chapter 6
Come on, Sully. Pick up the freaking phone already. Standing in one of the few remaining phone booths in all of Manhattan I tucked my body inward, trying to shield myself from the stares of passersby. I wasn’t surprised that I was attracting more than a few stares given how I looked. I was blooded from head to toe, my clothing was torn apart and I looked like I had just been on the losing side of a fistfight with a brick wall. Every other person who walked by the booth glanced at me and raised an eyebrow or two at my appearance though thankfully none of them cared enough about how I looked to stop and try to help.
It wasn’t my choice to stand out on the street using a phone booth. My outburst after realizing what had happened in the parking garage had shattered not only a car by destroyed my phone as well. Or maybe it was the fight with the vamp that destroyed my phone. Either way, with no quick way to get in touch with Sully I was left with the option of going into a nearby business and asking to use their phone or using a phone booth instead. I chose the latter since I didn’t want to attract even more attention, though in hindsight it might have been better to do the former.
“Dammit Sully!” I slammed the phone back on the receiver and picked it back up. I touched the side of the phone box and sent a small burst of energy through it, heard the confirmation that money had been deposited—ha!—and then I punched in the number for Sully’s pawn shop for the third time.
Sully never carried a cellphone but I had never known him to stray far enough from his shop to miss three phone calls to the place in a row. When I finally heard the receiver on the other end pick up I was beside myself and started talking before the person at the other end could get a word in edgewise.
“Sully? Thank goodness! Listen, something bad happened. Something really really bad. I was attacked, except it wasn’t a regular attack. The elder must have known where I was going because it set up the most elaborate ruse I’ve ever seen and—”
“William?” The voice on the other end of the phone was not Sully’s and I stopped short.
“Sam?”
“William! Thank goodness you called! I’ve been calling your phone the last half hour and haven’t been able to reach you!”
“Yeah, I uh… kind of lost my phone. Wait, you’ve been calling me?” I frowned. “Why have you been trying to call me, Sam? And where’s Sully?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to reach you about, Will!” I realized for the first time since she started speaking that Sam’s voice was frantic and full of worry.
“What’s going on, Sam?”
“Sullivan went out just a little while after you left. When I found his note I started trying to call you. Isn’t he there with you?”
The worry in Sam’s voice was contagious and I started feeling a sense of dread that was all my own. “Sam, I haven’t seen Sully at all since I left the shop. What did his note say?”
There was a rustling in the background and Sam muttered to herself before coming back to the phone. “It says ‘Sam – Had to check on a few things in H then link up with Will. I’ll be back soon.’ William, that’s not like Sullivan at all—you know him!”
Sam was right. As much as I enjoy getting out and about, Sully’s the complete opposite. He enjoys tinkering in his shop and staying as close to home as possible and only goes out when absolutely necessary. The fact that he had gone out as part of investigating the book concerned me given that I had been attacked over it. “Look,” I said, trying to make my next words sound as genuine and truthful as possible, “I’m sure Sully’s fine. He probably got caught up in talking to someone but I’ll hear from him soon.”
“Why would he be going to Harlem, Will?”
Harlem’s reputation as the worst of the worst part of Manhattan hadn’t been undeserved, though it had cleaned up over the last few decades as crime dropped, housing conditions improved, education broadened and the job market improved. Well, actually, I should correct that since it’s not entirely accurate. The human side of Harlem and East Harlem dramatically improved but the Touched side hasn’t. Not at all. Not a bit. In fact, if anything, it’s been getting worse.
The Council members mostly live in Tribeca and the Financial District, and while human, elven, dwarven and other sentient/sapient races are concentrated in and around Midtown. The crime families, orcs, goblins and other species of Touched have been relegated to the north side of Central Park, East Harlem and a bit of the East Side since the Council first negotiated for control over the regions of Manhattan back in the late 1800’s. That’s why, despite the strides non-Touched have made over the years, the regions are still hotbeds for criminal activity with the Touched. All that bad magic that goes on with the Touched in those areas leaks over and taints the entire area and the Council won’t do a damned thing about it.
Most Touched who aren’t involved in criminal activity won’t stray north of the Upper East Side or Central Park, so the fact that Sully was going there meant he must have had some contacts that were shadier than even I knew about.
“Will? Are you there?” Sam’s voice jerked me out of my thoughts and I realized I hadn’t answered her question.
“Sorry, just… thinking there for a second. I’m not sure, but if that’s where he’s going I’ll head there and find him. Don’t worry, Sam; he’ll be fine. You know what he’s capable of.”
“Oh I know, Will. And that’s what worries me.”
Before Sam hung up I thought about telling her that I was already in East Harlem and hadn’t seen any sign of Sully but decided against it. There was no need to worry her, though I was surprised to hear he had been heading this direction as well. “And here I thought I had the sketchy contacts.” I shook my head as I opened the door to the phone booth.
While all Touched—the natural ones at least since I’m a bit of an outlier there—have a unique magical signature, most of them tend to block it from being picked up by other Touched. Sometimes it’s because they’re engaged in criminal activity and sometimes it’s just because they value their privacy. Sully was one of the latter and he was exceptionally good at masking his “scent” while he was on the move. Despite that, though, still knew him well enough to pick up the trail here and there which made the fact that I couldn’t pick up on him at all even more frustrating.
“All right, Sully. Where would you have gone?”
Chapter 7
I spent half an hour wandering around trying to pick up on Sully’s trail with my arms crossed in front of me to hide the bloodstains and tears in my clothing. I still attracted more than a few odd looks, though, and after a while I became frustrated enough that I decided to continue on with my own poking around. Hopefully we cross paths here soon, old man.
I headed back in the direction of the Sharpened Staff, allowing and encouraging
the frustration and anger to build inside of me. I would need it if I wanted to accomplish my goal inside the bar. When I reached the back alley I snapped my fingers for the bouncer leaning up against the wall next to a nondescript door. Blue flames licked from my fingers, giving the bouncer proof that I was Touched. He didn’t move as I pushed through the door and headed down the stairs, pushing my way through the heat and steam that filled the hall.
Touched races imbued with more “natural” magical abilities—like orcs and goblins, for example—were allowed in the Sharpened Staff, though the proof they demonstrated to get in generally didn’t take the form of demonstrations of magic. Most of the time when orcs and goblins are out on the street they use glamours to disguise themselves. Dropping the disguise for a few seconds is more than enough to satisfy a bouncer and makes it possible for all Touched races to mingle in places where they can be sure there are no non-Touched about.
The lengths I went to when I worked to fool the bouncers and gain entry into the Sharpened Staff before I got my VEC were extraordinary. Hell, I’m still proud of what I did. I managed to fool every single person and creature in the bar into thinking that I was an all-powerful wizard worthy of my family name and not someone who had the genetics of a non-Touched.
It felt good to fool everyone in those days. But I had to admit as I emerged from the steam into the cool air of the underground bar that I enjoyed walking in with actual powers under my belt a lot more. I savored my brief moment of satisfaction before focusing back on my frustration and rage. With a carefully set expression I marched up to the bartender and glowered at him. While not the owner of the Sharpened Staff, he had been serving drinks there for decades and wasn’t an easy person to intimidate. I was pleased to see him blink at me a few times in surprise as I growled at him.
“Where’s Lekshi.” I said it as a statement, not a question, and the bartender raised an eyebrow at me. “He owes me a favor and I’m here to collect on the debt.”
The bartender grunted and pointed to one of the many side rooms that were set just off of the main portion of the bar. I nodded in thanks and headed for the room, preparing myself for what could lay inside. Lekshi was known to run alone and in large groups, and if the latter were true then it was possible I’d have a fight on my hands before I’d be able to talk to him. When I walked in, though, I was relieved to see that Lekshi was sitting at a table by himself throwing back a pitcher of some sort of green-colored liquid.
Lekshi was a typical goblin; short in stature, weak in physical strength and not possessing much in the way of magical abilities. What he lacked in magic and physical characteristics was more than made up for in intelligence, though. Lekshi was an expert potion-maker which was an oddity for a goblin but it was a skill that had put him in high demand, especially among the lesser vamps who had trouble procuring potions from their masters.
I walked through the entrance to the room without him noticing me, but when I slammed the door closed he jumped up, spilling the last of the pitcher of foul-smelling green drink all over the front of his shirt.
“Silver?” His face was a mixture of surprise and horror, and his eyes instantly darted around the room as he looked for an escape route.
“Lekshi.” I crossed my arms and stood in front of the door, blocking the only way out.
“Wh—what are you doing here, Silver?” He spat as he said my name, and backed slowly to the other side of the table, clutching the pitcher like it was a shield.
“Relax, Lekshi.” I took a step forward and he cringed. “I’m here to get information.”
“What makes you think I’ll tell you anything?” Bits of rotten meat that were weeks old hung from his teeth and his breath carried across the room. I wrinkled my nose involuntarily and waved at the air in front of my face.
“First of all, you really need to brush those needles you call teeth. Second, because you owe me a favor still. Well, technically you owe me two favors. And I’m calling one of them in.”
“I don’t owe you any favors, you piece of krell meat!”
“Oh really?” I took another step forward and lowered my voice, watching in satisfaction as he shrunk back. “Then I guess I’ll just carve off your skin and give it back to the Butcher who was in the process of taking it when I saved your sorry ass.” I reached toward my empty pocket, feigning as though I was going for a knife when he whimpered and threw up his hands.
“All right, all right!” Lekshi cursed in Goblin-tongue and spat on the floor. “What do you want to know?”
I stepped up to the table and sat down, then motioned for him to sit across from me. He responded by backing up another few paces and I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Whatever, be uncomfortable. Your choice.”
“Just tell me what you want so you can be gone from my sight, Silver!” Lekshi’s voice was slippery and full of hisses and drawn out “s” sounds.
“See this?” I leaned back in my chair and pulled open my jacket to reveal the wounds on my chest. Lekshi laughed at the sight before he caught my steely glare and closed his mouth. “I got these earlier today, from a trio of vamps. They were pissed because I took someone from one of their brothers at a bleed farm the other night.”
“Vamps?” Lekshi’s eyes began to dart around the room again. I didn’t need the Touch to see his eyes dilating and know that his heartbeat was skyrocketing as his nervousness increased. “I’ve got nothing to do with vamps, Silver! You know that. Not anymore! No vamps!”
I picked up the other pitcher of green liquid that was resting on the table and sniffed it. Big mistake. “How can you drink this stuff? It smells like feet!”
“I already told you, Silver, I’ve nothing to do with vamps anymore, okay! So you can go now!”
I sighed and shook my head slowly. “Lekshi. Do you really think I’m that stupid? Look, right now you have two choices. You can keep denying that you’re involved with vamps anymore as you edge towards the door and then make a break for it and then I’ll grab you and have to physically hurt you before you tell me the truth. Or you can just sit down and tell me what I need to know about the vamps, the bleed farm and the book I found.”
Lekshi’s eyes grew even wider before his head dropped and his shoulders slumped. I thought, for a second, that he might take the easy choice, but goblins rarely like to do things the easy way. He darted around to the side of the table, pressing up against the wall as he raced for the door to get away. Before he could get past me, though, I flipped the pitcher of green liquid back over my shoulder, coating the floor with the slippery liquid. As soon as Lekshi’s foot hit the liquid it flew out from under him and he slammed into the floor, clawing at the wall with his sharp nails as he tried to remain upright.
I stood up, walked over and pulled him up by his long ears, then dragged him around and slammed him down in the chair on the backside of the table. He rubbed his jaw where he had smacked into the floor with one hand and alternated rubbing each of his ears with the other, groaning and griping the whole while.
“My teeth!” Lekshi opened his mouth and spat dark brown blood onto the floor. A couple of his sharp, needle-like teeth came out as well and he groaned. “Do you have any idea how painful that is?”
I shrugged. “You’ll grow them back. Now unless you want to lose a few more, I suggest you start talking.”
I walked back around to the other side of the table and sat down in my chair, then put my elbows on the table and rested my chin my hands. Lekshi was still rubbing his jaw and ears as he looked at me and shook his head. “They’ll kill me, Silver!”
“That’s going to be a lot less painful than what I’ll do to you if you don’t talk to me.” I let an extra helping of menace slip into my voice and Lekshi shivered at the implication. My time prior to Sully rescuing me had required me to perform more than a few unpleasantries and I had gained a reputation for being quite good at them that still lingered.
“Damn you.”
“Pretty sure that’s already a given, Lekshi. Now a
re you going to tell me what I want to know, or do you need some extra encouragement?”
Lekshi sighed. “Tell me what happened.”
I explained the whole story, starting with my finding the bleed farm—leaving out my connection to the NYPD of course—and ending with the fight in the parking garage. When I finished, Lekshi was shaking his head and nearly chuckling.
“What’s so funny you little garden gnome?”
“Funny? Oh, Silver. You have no idea what you’re wrapped up in, do you.”
“Nope. But I can take a guess. Some sort of summoning ritual.”
Lekshi burst out into a full-on cackle and kicked his feet against the underside of the table. “Summoning ritual? The vampires? Summoning? What do they need to summon? Oh no, no, no Silver. You’ve got it all wrong. They’re not summoning anything.”
“Then what’s the book for and why did they go to all that trouble and subterfuge to get it back?”
“They’re afraid of you, Silver. The elder wouldn’t dare show his face around you for fear of what you might do to him.” Lekshi cackled again. “Not that he has much to worry about given what a couple of scum-suckers managed to do to you!”
“Stick it up your ass, Lekshi. Now tell me—what’s the deal with the book?”
“They’re not summoning anything, Silver. They’re going to destroy something.”
I could feel the blood draining from my face as I thought about the amount of power built up inside the book and the damage it could do if released all at once. “What the hell are they trying to destroy? Half the island?”
