Cloak Games: Omnibus One

by Jonathan Moeller

  My name is Riordan MacCormac. I am a hundred and ten years old, and I’ve made a lot of mistakes.

  I stared at the phone in my hand and wondered if I was about to make another.

  The moment stretched on and on, and my scowling reflection stared back at me from the glass of the phone’s screen.

  I sat in the solarium of the Haven of the Family, which currently occupied the top several floors of a Manhattan skyscraper, the vast maze of New York City visible through the windows. The outside world calls our order the Shadow Hunters, but we call ourselves the Family, our members Brothers and Sisters. The life of a Brother of the Family is a dangerous one, but nonetheless rewarding, and the Haven was comfortable. I sat in an overstuffed chair, the solarium warm from the sunlight streaming through the glass panes, the carpet thick beneath my bare feet. If I had wanted, I could have crossed the solarium to the swimming pool and done a few dozen laps, or retreated to the gym to spar and train in combat with others of the Family.

  Instead I sat here, staring at my phone.

  I’ve been a Brother of the Family for over eighty years, and I’ve kept my Shadowmorph controlled for that entire time. A weak man cannot withstand the whispers of the Shadowmorph, its constant hunger, but the necessary iron discipline had become second nature to me by now. I had faced terrible foes and survived.

  To sum it up, I was not the sort of man to suffer a fit of nerves when calling a woman to invite her to dinner.

  No, it was something else that stayed my hand.

  Was this another mistake?

  I thought again of my wife Miranda, who had tried to kill me. I thought again of Sasha, who had been dominated by her Shadowmorph and gone insane. I thought of my brother Aidan, dead from Lord Morvilind’s schemes. I thought of all those who had died because of my decisions, and I thought of what might happen if I made that phone call, of what new disaster might befall. Maybe I ought to take that phone number and toss it in the fireplace…

  A wave of annoyance went through me.

  For God’s sake. This was ridiculous. For all I knew, if I called her up she might laugh in my face. If that happened, I could go about my business and put her out of my thoughts.

  I had been thinking a lot about her since Milwaukee.

  My mind made up, I dialed the number she had given me and put the phone to my ear.

  She picked up at the second ring. Maybe she had been expecting me.

  “Hello?” said Nadia Moran.

  Her voice was a little deeper than average for a woman. It would have been throaty, if not for her clipped Midwestern accent.

  “Hello, Nadia,” I said. “This is Riordan.”

  “Oh, I figured,” said Nadia. “Or you forgot to pay your phone bill and a company selling printer toner bought the number.”

  I should mention this about Nadia. She has a stupendously smart mouth, and it kicks in when she’s nervous or afraid. I didn’t think she was afraid of me, which meant she was nervous. I decided to take that as a good sign.

  “And I’ve got enough printer toner to last me about five years,” said Nadia. “So I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

  “Alas,” I said. “I shall have to abandon my side venture in office supplies and return to the Family in disgrace.”

  There was silence for a moment, and then she laughed.

  “You tried to make a joke,” she said.

  “I do that occasionally,” I said. “But I haven’t done it for a while.”

  “What else haven’t you done for a while?” she said, a little challenge in her voice.

  “Eaten dinner,” I said.

  “You should do something about that. I’m told long-term fasting is bad for the metabolism.”

  “I’ll be in Milwaukee in two nights,” I said. “We should have dinner together.”

  “Oh, we should, should we?” said Nadia. “Just why should I do that?”

  I had expected something like that. It was always like this in the beginning. The little tests, the little pokes to see if a potential suitor would become flustered and fall apart. I wondered if she was doing it consciously.

  “You did give me your phone number,” I said. “I’m reasonably certain you did not want to buy printer toner from me.”

  “No,” said Nadia. “All right, then. I told you to give me a call sometime, so I can’t blame you for listening. You know a place called…let’s see…Frederick’s Tap?”

  “No, but I can find it,” I said.

  “It’s a sports bar in Wauwatosa,” said Nadia. She rattled off an address. “You tracked me down once and I was trying to hide. It shouldn’t be that hard to find a sports bar.”

  “I should think not,” I said.

  “Good,” said Nadia. “Glad we’re agreed. 7 PM in two nights?”

  “I look forward to it,” I said.

  There was a long pause. I waited for her to speak.

  “I think I’m looking forward to it, too,” said Nadia. Some of her usual sardonic manner reasserted itself. “Though I’ve spent the last few days helping James to rebuild the living room wall, so perhaps my standards have slipped.”

  “If you’d rather spend the evening hanging drywall for Dr. Marney,” I said, “I can oblige.”

  “None of that,” said Nadia. “I’ve worked hard, and I deserve a break. Come show a girl a good time, Riordan.”

  “Careful what you wish for,” I said. “See you in two days.”

  “Bye,” said Nadia, and she hung up.

  I sat in the chair for a while, staring at the Manhattan traffic.

  I was going on a date.

  That hadn’t happened in decades.

  Once again I had the overwhelming feeling that this was a mistake.

  Well, I was committed now. Best to see this through to the end.

  ###

  “This,” announced Nora as she drove me to the airport, “is an extremely bad idea, boss.”

  “I’ll take that under consideration,” I said.

  Nora shook her head. She was English, taller and stronger than many men, with dark skin and hair. She was soft-spoken and sensible, and despite all that she drove like a maniac, weaving in and out of traffic like a falcon darting through a forest. Her Shadowmorph gave her enhanced reflexes, which was just as well since she had to use all of them to keep from wrapping the car around a lamppost.

  “I don’t think the Firstborn and the Elders would approve,” said Nora, screeching to a halt in front of a stoplight.

  “The Firstborn and the Elders do not care,” I said. “The Brothers and Sisters of the Family are free to do as they wish when not carrying out a writ of execution, so long as they abide by the Covenant of the Family. A trip to Milwaukee for personal reasons does not violate the Covenant.” I grunted. “And the Firstborn has been telling me to relax more for years.”

  “I still think this is a bad idea,” said Nora.

  “Why?” I said. “It is not as if I am lying to her. Nadia knows what I am, what we are. And she told me to call her.”

  “Then this isn’t about Morvilind?” said Nora.

  I felt my habitual frown sharpen. “What do you mean?”

  “Morvilind killed your brother, and she works for Morvilind,” said Nora. “He’s coerced her into working for him, just as he did with your brother.”

  I let out a breath. “That was a long time ago.”

  “Nevertheless,” said Nora.

  I said nothing for a while. Lord Kaethran Morvilind should have been a leading figure in the High Queen’s government, but instead he was almost a pariah. Partly this was because of his own lack of interest in socializing, but it was mostly because the Elves were terrified of him. He was an archmage, possibly the single most powerful wizard living.

  And he was also responsible for my brother Aidan’s death. Not directly. Morvilind hadn’t killed him. But he had given Aidan the task that had killed him.

  “No,” I said.

  “Your brother was Morvilind’s pet thief
,” said Nora. “Nadia Moran’s just the latest one to hold the office. He even raised her to steal for him. If you’re going to use her to get back at Morvilind, this is a bad way to go about it.”

  “No,” I said again. “I can’t get back at Morvilind. I would like to, if the chance ever presented itself…but it won’t. He’s too powerful and too clever.” The anger had never quite left me, but it had faded into an old hurt by now. “I won’t throw away my life to take useless revenge on him, and I won’t throw away Nadia’s, either.”

  “Then why are you flying all the way to Milwaukee to see this girl?” said Nora.

  I looked at her.

  “Oh, dear,” said Nora. “Oh, dear.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve got a thing for her,” said Nora.

  “That is traditionally how it works,” I said. “A man meets a woman, he invites her to dinner, and she says yes or no.”

  “True, but you’re not just any man and she’s not just any woman,” said Nora. “You’re a Brother of the Family. And she’s…well, she’s your type.”

  “Not this again,” I said.

  “Skinny white girl with a dark and tragic past,” said Nora. “That is exactly your type, and you know it, boss. I was too young to have met your wife, but I met Sasha…and she was a lot like Nadia Moran. Same personality, same boldness, same skill at magic. Nadia even looks like Sasha a little.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Look,” said Nora. “I can’t tell you what to do…”

  “Since when?” I said.

  She laughed. “All right, I concede that. But…be careful. I would be upset if anything happened to you. The Family would miss you. I would miss you. I wouldn’t have been able to handle life as a Shadow Hunter if not for what you had taught me. So be careful around the tigress.”

  “Tigress, is it?” I said.

  “She’s pretty, but she’ll bite your head off if you’re not careful,” said Nora.

  “You have a knack,” I said, “of picking nicknames that are just insulting enough that no one responds. ‘Boss’ for me…”

  “You are literally my boss,” said Nora. “I’ve been listening to you for years…”

  “And ‘tigress’ for Nadia,” I said.

  “We all have our gifts,” said Nora. “Be careful, boss.”

  “I am always careful,” I said.

  But I thought of Miranda and Sasha and wondered if Nora had a point.

  ###

  Later that day I parked my rental car, an old Duluth Motors Superior sedan, along the curb and got out, the chill air of the October night washing over me. I walked to the sports bar, a neon sign reading FREDERICK’S TAP hanging over the door. I knew it was the right place because I spotted Nadia’s motorcycle further down the curb, a black Royal Motors NX-9 sportbike with orange highlights, which was probably where Nora had gotten the idea for the “tigress” nickname.

  I pushed open the door and stepped inside. Bearing a Shadowmorph gave me heightened senses, and at once stimuli washed over them. I smelled smoke from cigarettes, the oil from the deep fryer in the back, the faint odor of sweat, the noise from the TVs hanging over the bar. They showed a football game (the American version, not the European), and as I entered, a cheer rose from the bar. Evidently the home team was doing well, and Wisconsin’s love affair with football predated even the Conquest.

  The Shadowmorph sensed the life force of those around me and stirred with hunger, and long practice let me quash its urges before they infected me.

  I spotted Nadia before she saw me.

  She leaned against the bar, watching one of the TVs, her expression blank. Her eyes were an odd shade of gray, and I had even described her to the Firstborn as the “gray-eyed thief”. She was wearing a motorcycle jacket, tight jeans, and high-heeled boots. Without the boots, she stood only five foot three, and I probably could have picked her up one-armed and held her against me. My Shadowmorph stirred at the thought, and for once my mind and the Shadowmorph were in perfect agreement…

  I put that notion out of my thoughts and leaned against the bar next to her.

  She looked up at me and smiled a little. “Riordan MacCormac.”

  “Nadia Moran,” I said.

  “I thought you were going to stand me up,” she said.

  “No, you didn’t,” I said, amused.

  She straightened up, her jacket falling open. She wore a dark green tank top beneath it, cut low enough in front that my eyes wanted to linger. Despite that, I noticed the weight in the right side of her jacket. She had a concealed gun there – probably a .25 revolver or something about that size.

  A sensible weapon. I approved.

  “Oh?” she said. “Just why is that?”

  “Because you weren’t really watching the game,” I said. “You looked bored out of your mind, and you hadn’t touched your drink. Also, your phone was halfway out of your pocket. Like you had been checking it for text messages.”

  She smiled a little, but her eyes sparkled. “Paying attention, were you?”

  “In our respective lines of work,” I said, “it comes in handy.”

  “Yeah,” Nadia said. She pushed away from the bar. “Let’s get a table.”

  “Lead on,” I said.

  She walked across the dining room, and I followed her. As I did, I noticed that the jeans fit her very well, an effect further enhanced by the heels of her boots. Nor was I the only one who noticed. She drew a few covert glances on our way across the room, though those glances quickly looked elsewhere once they saw me.

  Damn it. Nora was right. I was attracted to Nadia, enough that it might affect my judgment.

  Hosting a Shadowmorph symbiont had peculiar side effects. I was a hundred and ten years old, but in most ways I was physically a man of thirty-five years. That said, it had been a while since I had felt physical lust. Even with the Shadowmorph’s ability to keep a Shadow Hunter physically strong, the Elders said that the desires of the flesh grew…less vivid with age, though they never went away entirely.

  For me, though, I think Sasha had a lot to do with my loss of interest in women. Watching her die, her sanity destroyed by her Shadowmorph, had not been a pleasant experience. Having to kill Miranda in self-defense had been nightmarish. Repeating the ordeal with Sasha had been worse. After that, I had shut that part of myself away. Some of the Brothers of the Family were content to take a string of casual lovers, but I was not.

  I had been alone for a long time.

  Then I had met Nadia at Paul McCade’s Conquest Day party, and we had been forced to kiss to throw off the suspicions of McCade’s guards…and something long-dormant had awakened in me.

  Nadia stopped at a table, and I stepped past her and pulled out her chair.

  She raised an eyebrow, but smiled and sat down nonetheless.

  I may have been out of practice…but I hadn’t forgotten everything.

  “How very gallant,” said Nadia as I sat down. “It’s like those books my brother reads. Are you going to ask for a scarf?”

  “I don’t think it would go with my coat,” I said.

  “He likes books about the Crusades of pre-Conquest Earth,” said Nadia. “The knights are always asking for the scarves of the women to tie around their lances before they ride off to slay the Saracen.”

  “A lance would be an obsolete weapon,” I said, “and a scarf tied around a gun would make for an encumbrance.”

  “This is true,” said Nadia. She laughed. “Though my brother would never approve.”

  I wondered if this was the time to tell her that I had actually written some of those novels under a false name. Carrying out writs of execution was a lot of work, but it couldn’t fill the entire year, and most of the Brothers and Sisters had careers outside of their training as assassins, allowing them to live as normal men and women until the Elders and the Firstborn summoned them. I was no different.

  A waitress delivered a pair of menus, and I scrutinized mine. The options we
re not appealing. I preferred a diet of lean meat and simple vegetables, and the entire menu revolved around burgers, taco bowls, and fried foods. And did everything have to be smothered in cheese? Well, I suppose this was Wisconsin.

  “What do you think?” said Nadia. “Lard with a side of grease, or grease with a side of lard? The lard can be deep-fried, if you like.”

  “I would like,” I said, “a good steak.”

  “Well, you’re paying. You can get whatever you want.”

  “I confess I do not like burgers,” I said.

  To my surprise, she smiled. “Really? Neither do I. James and Russell love them. Lucy and I are always trying to get them to eat better.”

  “A war without end, I imagine,” I said.

  “Yeah,” said Nadia.

  “Two steaks it is,” I said. “I’m surprised you suggested a sports bar.”

  Nadia shrugged. “I thought you’d be the kind of man who would like a good burger. Guess that I was wrong. Not that I mind being wrong. Whenever I take Russell out to lunch, he always wants to go to that one place with a weird-looking clown for its mascot…”

  “I do not care for that restaurant,” I said.

  “I knew we had something in common,” said Nadia. “I suppose you’d need to stay in shape, given your…line of work, like you said.”

  “And yours,” I said.

  “Plus, if I stay in shape I can fit into these jeans,” said Nadia.

  “Yes, you can,” I said.

  She grinned. “Were you looking?”

  “I’m not blind,” I said.

  “Scandalous,” said Nadia. “Do you really believe in God?”

  The change in subject threw me for a moment, but I remembered one of our first conversations in Paul McCade’s mansion, when she had seen the cross I had been wearing. And I had expected something like this. Nadia was not a woman to trust easily, though the fact that Nora and I had saved her and Russell from the anthrophages was a point in my favor.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Odd choice, for an assassin,” said Nadia.

  “I have made mistakes and done things of which I am not proud,” I said, “but I do not believe I killed anyone who did not deserve it. There is a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to break down and a time to build.”