Dead of Night (Ghosts & Magic #1)

by M. R. Forbes

  "That ain't him. Fucker got past me, get around front."

  The guy on the escape didn't react to Amos' voice. Shit. I stood and started for the front of the building.

  "Wait. What if Amos was the illusion?"

  "If he was, then where the hell is the real Amos?"

  Jin raised her rifle and stepped out from cover. She sighted and fired, a single shot that passed through the illusion's leg.

  "What if you had been wrong?"

  "Then he would have been easier to catch."

  I couldn't help but laugh at that, at the same time I sprinted for the front, with Jin right behind. We turned the corner at the same time Amos rumbled through the entrance.

  "Amos?" Jin asked.

  The ghost raised his gun.

  "Not Amos." I tackled Jin, knocking her into the street behind a parked car. Two shots pinged off the sheet metal.

  It was the middle of the day, and a firefight was going to draw all the wrong kind of attention. I peeked up over the corner of the car in time to see Amos vanish, replaced by the guy in the bathrobe.

  A horn sounded, and I saw the grill of an eighteen wheeler bearing down on our hiding spot.

  My heart skipped a beat, and I grabbed Jin's arm before my brain caught up to my eyes and told me it wasn't real. The illusion vanished right as it should have hit me. It did what it was supposed to, distracting us while our target ran away.

  The real Amos almost fell onto the sidewalk when he pushed through the front doors. His face was red and covered in sweat, and he bent at the knees to try to catch his breath.

  "Come on," I said to Jin, running over to him. "What the fuck, Amos? You said fire escape."

  "Son of a bitch. Knew I was coming or some shit. Had an illusion already waiting when I busted in his door. Slipped right out behind me, the little shit."

  I looked down the street. "Amos, he went that way. Why don't you go after him? Jin, stay here."

  "What do I look like, Usain Bolt? Where the fuck are you going?"

  Back down the alley.

  He was dropping from the fire escape when I came back around the corner.

  "Hey, Larry."

  I startled him. He turned and looked at me, his eyes wide. He split into half a dozen Larrys.

  "Who the hell are you?" they all asked. "What do you want from me? Do you know who I work for?"

  He was tall and thin, with a ring of grey hair around a bald scalp. He had a sharp nose and wire-rimmed glasses. He looked like an insurance salesman or an accountant. Not a fixer.

  "I know who you work for." I reached up and lowered my hood, so he could see my bald head and ravaged skin. It was enough to tell him what he was dealing with.

  "A necro?" He stared at me. I heard a squeak, and the dumpster started rolling towards me.

  "I'm dying, not an idiot." The illusion passed through. "I'm not going to hurt you."

  He laughed. "I'm not an idiot either. Necros don't drop by for tea and crumpets." He started running towards me, the six Larrys doubling to twelve. They all mixed together.

  I could only stop one.

  A line of bullets tore up the cement between him and me. I glanced up to where Jin was standing on the fire escape, outside Larry's apartment.

  "My associate suggests you stay there."

  The doppelgängers vanished.

  "Fine. What kind of tea do you like?"

  I brought Larry back into the building through the front. Amos was waiting there, and he laughed when he saw the fixer.

  "Think you're slick? Make me fucking run like that."

  "What was I supposed to do? Fixers go to ghosts, ghosts don't come to fixers. Mr. Black is going to have your ass for this."

  "Ah, stow it, Larry. We ain't gonna hurt you, although if it can get us Black's attention, we might reconsider."

  We went into the apartment building and started up the stairs. It didn't take long for Amos to fall behind, the chase having taken away what little stamina he had. I met Jin at the entrance to Larry's place.

  "Thanks for the cover."

  The fixer's apartment was a model of minimalism. The living area sported only a folding aluminum table, a matching chair, and a laptop trailing a plug to a wall that hadn't been painted in at least thirty years. There was no television, no couch, not even any lamps.

  "Nice place," I said.

  "I'm only here to sleep and organize jobs. What do I need a bunch of sentimental garbage for?"

  I thought my life was sad. At least I missed my sentimental garbage. Molly's teddy bear, my Tesla...

  "Jesus Christ, are you kidding me?" Amos burst into the room, his eyes scanning the landscape. "Would it kill you to at least get a couch?"

  Larry shook his head. "Look, I don't know what you guys think you're going to accomplish by jumping me. I'm just a fixer. You want Black, you need to talk to his negotiator."

  "We're talking to you," Amos said. "I know you have Pelfrey's number."

  "That was fifteen years ago. Pelfrey isn't in charge anymore. He got killed during a deal."

  "No shit? Who's in charge now?"

  "Adams."

  Amos slapped his hand to his forehead. "Fucking Adams? Are you shitting me?"

  "No joke. Mr. Black was impressed with the way he handled that business with Gold. You remember that?"

  "Yeah, I remember."

  "There you go. I can't call Adams, Amos. I just can't. He isn't Pelfrey. He'll kill me if I contact him without being asked. Literally kill me."

  Amos nodded. "Jin, may I please borrow that for a moment?" He reached out for the assault rifle. Jin handed it to him.

  The shot grazed Larry's calf, and sunk into the floor behind him. "I'll kill you if you don't, you little shit. Who the fuck do you think you're talking to here?"

  Larry didn't react to the wound, he just raised his head, defiant. He was probably scared, but he was also a fixer. He was used to dealing with tough guys. "I know who I'm talking to. I know you Amos. Geez, you know where I live, I know you so well. And you know me well enough to know that nothing you do to me can be worse than what Adams can do. Have you ever been water boarded by an aquamancer?"

  Amos shouldered the rifle and started aiming. "Next shot goes through your balls."

  Larry didn't respond. He just stood there and waited.

  "I told you what it would take," Amos said, lowering the rifle and looking at me. "It's your turn."

  I didn't want to touch him. I wasn't sure the meds had taken well, and the idea of winding up drained again and needing the second capsule wasn't pleasant. Even so, I approached Larry and put my hand on his wrist.

  "Don't make me do this."

  He looked down. "Even that can't be as bad as some of the shit I've heard that Adams has done. Why Black picked him... I have no idea."

  I could hear the fields in the background, the pulsing and chirping. I looked into Larry's eyes, and started to draw the power. "You're sure you won't reconsider?"

  He shook his head.

  I took a deep breath and blew it out. I really didn't want to do it. "I don't suppose the name 'Tarakona' means anything to you?"

  Larry kept staring at me. Then he glanced over at Amos. "Let go of my wrist."

  Had that actually worked?

  "Don't even think about trying anything," Amos said, bringing the rifle back up.

  I let go of his wrist.

  He put his hands up, and then slowly reached under his bathrobe, to the chest pocket of his silk pajamas. He pulled out his cell, tapped the screen a few times, and put it up to his face.

  "Hey Adams, it's Larry... Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. What, do you think I have a death wish? I can explain. If you give me a second... Thanks. You remember what you told me... I think it was, what, three years ago now? Something like that... No, not that. No, no, no. Tarakona."

  Everything around us paused. It was as if the name had stolen all of existence from the room.

  Larry's eyebrows went up.

  "Yeah, that
's what I said. Tarakona... Okay."

  He lowered the phone and breathed out, his relief obvious. "He's going to call back."

  One second, I was standing in the sparse apartment with Larry, Jin, and Amos.

  The next, I was somewhere else, standing face to face with a stoic Native American man. I didn't need to ask who he was.

  Mr. Black.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  As for getting even.

  He was tall, with black hair that fell to his shoulders, a strong jaw and a solid build. He had a wide mouth and a proud nose, his eyes sunken in so that he looked like a raptor, staring down at a distasteful meal.

  I was feeling a little dizzy, having just been carried to somewhere else on the wings of some insane magic. He seemed to expect it, and he stood still and silent while I caught my breath and got my bearings.

  I assumed I was in a house. The floor was a pink marble, the walls papered in silks and mostly hidden by huge, gold-framed artwork. Two stone columns rose up behind Black, and between them rested a block of stone. It was a statue. A half-carved statue. The left side was still uneven rock. The right side was carved into faces and torsos of Native American men and women. At the top was a depiction of Black, sitting on a horse and looking down at the rest.

  "My family."

  It was the first thing he said to me. I scanned all of the faces. Of course, Dannie's wasn't there.

  "Mr. Black, I..."

  I wasn't sure what to do, or say. The way he had plucked me from Boston and brought me here... he could kill me whenever and however he wanted to. I think he could do whatever the hell he wanted with anybody. I was suddenly glad there were other wizards around, other Houses, to keep power like this in check.

  "Conor."

  He knew my name. Shit.

  "You know who I am?"

  He smiled. It was a massive smile, and in a moment his appearance went from evil overlord to wise grandfather. "I know more than you're likely comfortable with. You know why I brought you here?"

  I nodded. "Tarakona."

  "Yes."

  "Do you know him?"

  "No. I know of him. I know what he has done. To Mei, and her family. To Danelle."

  How did he know about Dannie?

  "She was family, once. I could always feel her, the part of her that came from me. I didn't expect that feeling to vanish so soon."

  "Neither did I."

  We looked at one another in an awkward silence, leaving me feeling like an ant sitting below a massive boot. Then he reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. It took everything in me to not flinch.

  "Walk with me, Conor."

  He turned me around, away from the statue, leading me through a pair of large doors in the back of the room. I noticed the sounds of the fields then, so strong it was as though we were standing below a waterfall. Black's hand guided me forward. Through the doors into a large hallway. Unlike Red's house, there was nobody else here.

  "Danelle always hated me for sending her away."

  He paused, waiting for me to say something. What was I supposed to say?

  "Yes."

  I saw his eyes glance over at me for just a moment. Was he testing me, to see how I would react? Did he expect me to make up an excuse for her? Or to lie to him if I thought it would incur his wrath? He could crush me for any little thing. It was safer to be honest.

  "She was right to. I never wanted to remove her from the House. I always hoped that when she was older, she would come to understand why I did it. Do you?"

  "No."

  "Being a wizard isn't a gift, is it?"

  I looked down at the floor. I had never thought about it. "I don't know. The magic keeps me alive."

  "It does, doesn't it? At what cost? What is the price?"

  I remembered what I had said to Jin, about being someone I never thought I would be. Was that because of the magic, or because of who I was? Were those things exclusive to one another?

  "I can tell that it has been more than you expected. Now think about it from my point of view. For whatever reason, when the reversal occurred I was given an ability to do miraculous things. In the beginning, I saw so much potential in that ability. So much freedom. So many things that I could accomplish. I thought I could change the world."

  "The Houses did change the world. You settled the riots, the wars..."

  "For every inch of power I gained, I lost an equal amount of freedom. All of us did. Yes, we tried to save lives, we tried to help people adjust, and in many ways we succeeded. While we were doing it, we imprisoned ourselves. We took on a responsibility for the world, without understanding the true breadth of that responsibility. In time we changed, some in ways that made us better. Some in ways that made us worse."

  We reached a fork in the corridor, and he directed me to the left.

  "In the end, we all want the same thing. It just holds a different meaning for each of us."

  "Freedom?"

  "Yes."

  "I don't follow how this relates to Dannie?"

  "She was supposed to be my freedom. I poured millions of dollars into research on how our biology affects our ability to use the fields. After Danelle's mother conceived, the fertilized egg was removed, and all of that research was put to the test. When she was born, I expected that I would be able to give the House over to her. She would be raised into the role, and she would never feel the same desire for freedom, because she would have never had the taste of it."

  "Sounds selfish." It came out of my mouth before I could stop it. I stopped walking, waiting for him to turn me to ash. Wasn't Jin in the same predicament? Raised to be the head of a House? She had known freedom, had tasted it, and already feared for its loss.

  "It is selfish. I think I've earned the right."

  The corridor ended at an elevator. There was still no one else around. The doors opened as we approached. Black didn't have to touch anything or say anything to make it happen. We got in.

  "When she turned out to be... normal... It was a bittersweet occasion. My imprisonment would continue, but she would always be free."

  "She wasn't free. She was never free. She was trapped in your shadow."

  He turned his head to look at me. His expression changed. Not anger. Sadness.

  "That was never my intention. I know she hated me, but I loved her all the same. I could never tell her that I cared for her. If the other Houses had known... it was safer for her to despise her father."

  "You're saying you were trying to protect her?"

  "Yes."

  "That's bullshit."

  "Excuse me?"

  I felt my heart start to race. I was getting a little too honest. I licked my lips and looked him in the eye. "I said that's bullshit. You just sucked me how many miles away from where I was standing in the blink of an eye? And you're telling me she wouldn't have been safe with you, or with her brothers and sisters? You think that life would have been more dangerous than being a ghost? You're deluding yourself. She always knew you were embarrassed by your failure. She always knew you were embarrassed by her."

  He didn't say anything. The elevator reached wherever it was going, but the doors didn't open. Maybe he was deciding whether or not to let me live. He'd gotten me pissed. I didn't care. Dannie wasn't here to defend herself, to make her case. I was going to do it, no matter what.

  Finally, he reacted. Nothing could have prepared me for it.

  He smiled, and put his arm around my shoulders.

  "Do you know the last time anyone spoke to me from their heart and soul? I can't even remember."

  The doors slid open, and we stepped out into what looked like a museum. There were all kinds of artifacts resting in all kinds of glass enclosures, artfully lit from above.

  "You don't fear me," he said.

  "Today is your day to be wrong, Mr. Black. You scare the shit out of me. I'm already dying, and I lost my best friend. Self-preservation isn't that high on my agenda right now. Getting even, on the other hand..."

/>   "She was fortunate to find a friend like you. You aren't completely right about me, but I will admit you aren't completely wrong. Having this power, it doesn't make me inhuman. It doesn't enable me to make all the right decisions, or have no regrets. I did what I thought was best for both Danelle and myself. Her loss is tragic for both of us."

  He guided me through the exhibit, past all kinds of spears and wands and bricks, past chunks of cave walls covered in runes, and ancient tomes held delicately in a strange gel. He took me all the way to the back corner, to one specific enclosure. One specific artifact.

  "As for getting even..."

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Fade to black.

  It was a mask, as ancient as the dice in my pocket. It was tattered and worn, the face composed of hundreds of chips of bone, the surface layered and uneven, glued together by who knows what. The mouth and eyes were a black nothingness. Not an open space, but a midnight sinkhole that seemed to capture everything that fell into them. It was frightening in the way the dice were frightening.

  It called out to me.

  I could feel it in my soul. It was related to the dice, connected to them, born of the same source over forty-thousand years ago, and now reunited for the first time since.

  Mr. Black moved his pinkie, and the glass lifted away on its own, floating in the air above the display. "Take it."

  I stared at it. I knew I shouldn't. I knew I had no choice. He wouldn't have brought me to it, he wouldn't be giving it to me, if he didn't think it would help me with Tarakona. It didn't matter what it did, or what the cost was.

  "Mei Sakura was a good woman, and my lover. Danelle was a gift to the world, and part of me whether she knew it or not. Whether she wished she wasn't or not. I found this mask in Haiti. I don't know what it does, but I know it has power. I can feel it. I also can't use it. There's only one frequency I can't draw from, only one magic I can't command."

  Death magic.

  "Take it."

  I reached out, nervous and slow. I could feel the energy of it reaching back, tickling my fingertips, urging me to keep going. I looked at Mr. Black, and then back at the mask.