Heart of Gold_An Urban Fantasy Novel

by J. A. Cipriano

  “Don’t worry, Doc, I’ve got this.” I gave her a feral smile as I purposefully slowed the car. I had no idea where we were now, not that I couldn’t figure it out in a few moments, but the devil van was already roaring down the street, distant but closing fast.

  Rolling down the window, I stuck my top half out, hoping I didn’t catch a bullet for my trouble. Good, they were still too far away to plug me or plow through us. I took a deep breath and thought hard, focusing. I saw in my mind’s eye their glowing engine as a big-ass bonfire and myself as the goddamned fire marshal, a huge fire hose primed and ready in my hands.

  It was then, for the first time, I heard the strange, echoing thump of the Aztec lump in my chest. With each beat, the frozen gold running through my veins sent a shudder through me. My vision took on a golden tint, while the flames streaking out of the van’s engines took on the appearance of some crazy macramé like my mom would do or, if you want to be all poetic about it, something out of a tapestry.

  Time seemed to slow as I reached my hand out. It was definitely some serious ‘Use the Force’ shit. What looked like strings trailed from the flames, reminding me of the slowly unraveling sweaters Mom made for me even though I only wore them on holidays. I instinctively reached out for it. Sure, I was hundreds of feet away, but I could feel the thread of magic in my hands. All I had to do was close my fist and yank. I did.

  In a flash, the whole thing unraveled. The flames went out, snuffed like a match, and the crazy magic thing in my chest thumped hard, sending a jolt of pain through the still-healing wound. As for the van, the engine cut out with the flames and started to weave wildly out of control.

  I sat there on the window’s edge, finding it hard to breathe for a moment. The bit of vehicular drama before me was strangely entrancing. As I turned away, I realized I had just drunk the Kool-Aid while taking a huge hit off the wizard bong rippled across my brain. Fuck! That was really the last step. If there ever was a chance to go back (and fuck if I knew if there was), there certainly wasn’t one now. I was in for the long haul, and I knew it.

  The van managed to stop semi-safely, sideswiping a parked car or two as the driver slammed on the brakes. Gabriella started pulling on my legs, trying to get me back inside the Taurus, but I ignored her. Before I realized what had happened, a spark of anger took me over. Because of these assholes, I had to throw away my entire life. Who knew what was going to happen to my movies, my music, or my mom? Goddammit, I had forgotten to call her!

  The golden filter over my eyes didn’t fade. Instead, I realized I could see more threads, more magic tied to the van. One thread in particular seemed to tether the van to our own vehicle. I let out a yell and swiped madly with my open hands. As I did so, the threads tangled around my fingers. For a half-second, there was tension as the threads tried to pull on my hands. Maybe the Doc was wrong and this new ticker of mine wasn’t such hot shit. Then I got mad and, with a powerful thump rattling my rib cage, I tore my hands free of the strands, shredding every spell or enchantment or eldritch crap around or in the van, especially the bit connecting the both of us.

  “Frank, don’t overdo it!” There was real concern in the Doc’s voice and her tug turned into a surprisingly strong yank. Either that or I was feeling winded enough that I couldn’t really resist.

  I was yanked back into the driver’s seat and as I hit the seat, tried to suck in a deep breath. “Wow. That was a rush.”

  “We need to go before they get to us.” Her worried eyes glanced at my shirt, and I followed her gaze to see the faint seep of golden blood from my horrid chest wound. “And before you kill yourself.”

  I tried not to look concerned even though my veins had been filled with molten gold and pain seared my nerve endings. “Just pulled something, Doc, but yeah, we should probably go.” I grabbed the wheel, bit down the agony threatening to consume me, and hit the gas. The sobering thought that the thing in me might kill me if I tried too hard too fast punched through the general anger at the situation and my own machismo. That was no good. I was way too pretty to die.

  Hoping I looked as nonchalant as I was trying to be, I glanced back at Gabriela and met her concerned eyes. “So, Doc, you have a phone I can use? I really need to call my mom.”

  6

  The Doc’s magic car was tucked into a tight alley no more than two blocks from the Pendleton Building and yours truly was laid out in the backseat with the good doctor hovering over me.

  “You really need to hold as still as you can, Frank. This is delicate work,” Gabriela said, fixing me with a steely glare. She was doing her best to replace the ruptured stitches in my chest. I had her cellphone in hand, trying to clumsily type in Mom’s number.

  “I know. It’s my chest you’re threading up!” I let out a hiss as she poked fresh medical thread through my skin. “Are you sure we’ll be safe here? Wouldn’t it have been better to go to some dive of a motel to get our shit together?”

  “Both the White and the End have members in high places.” Her voice was calm and focused. Despite my own squirming, she was doing an ace job on the wound. “Motels leave paper trails, even if you pay in cash. That’s exactly the type of thing they’ll be looking for.” Those flashing green eyes of her looked at me sidelong. “That combined with the magical void you leave, will give them more than enough to home in on us. Think of it like PKE readings from Ghostbusters. Even wizards don’t just see magic or its absence. They have to use a spell for it. That’s way easier to do when they know where to look, and I guarantee, every crappy motel in a hundred-mile radius is definitely under surveillance.”

  I nodded in understanding, relieved Gabriela and I spoke a common language. “Gotcha. Because they don’t know to scan in this location, we’re safe for a bit.”

  She smiled faintly and nodded before going back to my wound. When I had ripped up all the Enders’ shitty magic, la Corazon had literally beat so hard, it pushed against my healing chest cavity. Gabby thought it would be okay once I finished healing, but for now, well…

  “You can’t do that again, you know. At least, not until you’ve healed more.” The Doc let out a sigh. “I should have known better and not asked so much of you so soon.”

  My thick thumb was having problems hitting the correct numbers, especially at such an awkward angle. “Maybe you should have, or maybe I shouldn’t have gone for the gusto. Shit, who knows, Doc?” I finally managed to get the final digit right and hit the call button. “All that matters is we’re both still kicking around.”

  She nodded slowly, refocusing on the work at hand, and as she did, I was glad she’d had a local anesthetic in her medical kit. If she didn’t, even I wouldn’t have been able to man through the stitch job she was doing to my chest.

  I put the phone to my ear, and after two rings, I was worried. After four, I was about ready to get up, even though the Doc had needles and thread still running through me, and rush over to Mom’s with the wrath of God behind me. Thankfully for everyone involved, the phone picked up on the fifth ring.

  “All right, all right, I’ve got the phone!” Mom hollered, and it came over the speaker way louder than I’d expected. Shit, I must have hit the speaker phone thing when I put it to my ear. “Who is it?”

  “Mom, it’s me.” I tried to sound apologetic. It wasn’t hard because I was. “I’m sorry about–”

  “What the hell, Frankie?” Momma Butcher was not happy and who could blame her? I normally called her every day, and it’d definitely been long enough for her to start to worry. “I had to drop out of the poker game because you disappeared, not to mention that the Goldmans were constantly asking after you. Worried sick, you know!”

  This had happened before, I hadn’t always been the good son I was these days, and I could hear the worry underneath the bluster. What’s more, I think Gabriela could hear it too. “I know, I really do, but this was beyond my control. You see, something bad happened and–”

  Mom, as usual, barreled right over me. “Oh no, were yo
u in that explosion at that cancer institute? I saw that on the news, and I remembered you always talking about how that place was on your route and all about that hot Mexican lady doctor. What was her name?”

  Gabriela had just tied off the final stitch and was now looking at me with a quirked eyebrow and a horribly amused smile on her face. I had held onto a brief hope she hadn’t actually heard what Mom had said, but Gabriela had dashed that thought. “I’m not Mexican, though.”

  “Mom! Christ! Look, yeah, that was–”

  “Wait, who’s that with you? Frankie, did you find yourself a new lady friend? Now that would be a good reason to vanish for a day or two. Finally get me some grandchildren.” That’s how it usually went with Betty Butcher. She looked the sweet old grandmother, but like most parents, she was way too focused on me giving her grandkids.

  “Look, just because I know a woman doesn’t mean–”

  The Doc looked to be truly enjoying herself as she interrupted me. “No, Mrs. Butcher, I’m your son’s doctor, though I suppose I am technically the ‘hot lady doctor’ you mentioned.”

  “Can I just explain this?” I had to get control of this conversation and fast, but neither lady had any intention of letting that happen. I mean, I had no idea how to get out of this situation, short of hiding in a cave, but still. Still!

  “Oh, it’s about time my Frankie actually dealt with some classy ladies, ya know? You’ve got such a sweet voice and that accent! So what’s my Frankie done now that he needs a doctor?” she asked, concern edging into her voice.

  “Mom, this is serious business here. There’s no time for gossip!” I said, almost wishing I hadn’t called to check in. Still, embarrassment was a small price to pay for knowing she was safe.

  “Your son is right, Mrs. Butcher. Just know he’s in good hands with me.” Gabriela nodded at me, having exchanged her amused smile for her usual serious demeanor. “It would be best if I let him explain the rest himself.”

  “Oh, I bet he’s in good hands.” No need to translate that innuendo for you good folks, is there?

  I rolled my eyes. “Goddamn, Mom, seriously?” I tried to get my mind on track as Gabriela tried to stifle a laugh. “Look, that explosion thing was some terrorist stuff, and they are trying to take out any witnesses.” Personally, I hated the idea of lying to my mother, since I really did try to be a good son and all, but that statement was close enough to the truth to feel okay. At least until this was all over. “So I need to go off the grid for a bit while this blows over, and you need to get out of town.”

  There was a long pause before Mom said anything. “You’re not making up some bullshit again, are you? This isn’t just some made-up excuse so you can use my house to throw a wild party again?”

  I glanced up to see if Gabriela had heard that one, but fortunately, she didn’t seem to be paying attention at that particular moment. Briefly thanking any and all deities for this one small bit of luck, I heaved a sigh of relief. “No, this is the real deal. Aren’t the Goldmans going on a cruise or something?” We had known the Goldmans even before Mom, Bobby, and I had moved out to the West Coast. Good, salt-of-the-earth Jewish family.

  “Oh yeah, they were packing up to leave in the morning,” Mom said, and I could hear the gears already turning in her brain. “Why?”

  “See if you can go with them, Mom. Get the money out of my account.” Well, that would be all my cash, but it was worth it to get Mom out of harm’s way for a while. “You should be okay then.” I glanced at Gabriela for some confirmation as to whether that would be the truth. She gave me a nod, and as she did, a weight lifted off my shoulders.

  “I don’t want to impose, Frankie… but then again, I have wanted to play some real cards.” Mom chuckled. “No one else in the building wants to lose to me anymore, buncha sissies.”

  “I know, Mom, and Esther will be happy to have you along.” I closed my eyes, still hoping this was going to turn out all right. “You go call them now, okay?”

  “All right, kiddo, but you promise me you’ll be safe too? You and your doctor friend!” Though Mom was tough as three-day-old jerky, I could tell she was worried. Still, after my time in the Army, she had some confidence in my ability to survive situations like this. Hopefully, it wasn’t misplaced.

  “We’ll be okay, Mom, I promise,” I said, and as the words left my mouth, they felt like a lie.

  “Okay, well, I love you, Frankie. You’re all I’ve got left now after–”

  “I know, I know. I love you too. Bye,” I said, cutting her off as I hung up the phone. Truth be told, I didn’t mean to cut her off so hard, but now was not the time to have a cry about Bobby and Dad.

  We Butchers were tougher than that. Besides, I didn’t need Gabriela to see me like that, no matter how manly my tears could be. Rubbing my face, I tilted my head up from the seat cushion to see the Doc carefully dressing my wound.

  “Your mother should be fine, Frank,” she reassured me without making eye contact. “The Enders want you, yes, but most of them aren’t complete bastards. To get you is one thing but to attack your family? I don’t think they’ll go that far.”

  “Doc, really? Don’t try to bullshit a bullshitter. They already nabbed your son over this, and I don’t think that’s all, is it?” I pushed up on my elbows, not giving two shits if it would make it harder for her to finish my dressing.

  She shook her head, and her slender lips twisted into a frown. “You’re right, but I don’t want you to worry. Getting too emotional right now is going to get you killed.” Those nimble fingers finished taping down the ends of the gauze covering the stitches on my chest. “There, all done.”

  I sighed deeply. The Doc might have meant well, but I could tell there was something going on under the surface. “Yeah, great advice. Just don’t forget it yourself, Gabby.”

  Gabriela had been sliding out of the side door to let me get up, but that made her stop. Her narrowed eyes snapped to meet mine. “I told you, Frank, don’t call me Gabby.”

  I smirked. “Yeah, sure, but it got your attention, didn’t it?” I tried to be serious again. “I’m not playing around though. If I’m going to be cool as a cucumber, you have to be too.”

  She shook her head as she got the rest of the way out of the Taurus. I followed on her heels, amazed at how much better I felt, especially after the shit that had already gone down. As I pulled a clean white T-shirt over my head, I heard her begin to pace, shoes clicking on the pavement.

  “There is a lot of history on both sides of the war, and the people who kept things in line before now.” Gabriela’s voice was distant, lost in the past. “And yes, some of that history involves me, but it’s exactly that: history. All that matters right now is saving my son.”

  Pulling the shirt snug over me, I arched an eyebrow at her. “Really, Doc? I mean, I’m not doubting you about your son and all, but there isn’t some other agenda here too? No Manchurian Candidate shit or the like? You’re not a spy for the Rebel Alliance? How many Bothans have died to bring me this information?”

  “Frank, we’re doing this for only one reason.” The Doc turned on her heels to look at me again. I expected to see anger or frustration or resentment. Instead, there was nothing but the limitless resolve you only see once in a blue moon, the determination of a parent defending their children. I wasn’t sure why, but it made me feel better. Sure, I felt bad because of her kid and all, but no one could fake that look. It meant she was being honest, and at the moment, it felt like finding the eye of a hurricane.

  I nodded. “I believe you.” I flashed a grin before things could get too emotional. “So are you ready to hear my brilliant plan?”

  It was Gabriela’s turn to arch an eyebrow in suspicion. “I guess the sooner the better.” She sat back down in the passenger seat of the car, pulling a tablet from her doctor’s bag. “Hit me with it.”

  “Okay, it’s simple.” I glanced at the tablet. “You’re paying attention, right?”

  Gabriela gave me the �
��I’m-not-the-flighty-asshole-around-here” look. “Of course. This is for after. I need to re-weave some spells, or I won’t be much help, will I?”

  “Oh, sure, right. Yeah, do your whole witch thing.” I coughed and moved on before she could glare me to death. “So as I said, simple plan. This place is still an office building, right? At least that’s the cover?”

  “That’s correct. The End has to make money and support its cult members, so it has its fingers in many mundane and many not-so-mundane pies–”

  “You know, I really dislike how you guys refer to us normal folk as mundanes. It’s kind of a douchebag move,” I said, cutting her off even though it wasn’t terribly helpful.

  “Sorry.” She shook off the comment. “I’ll try to remember that.” She gave me a conciliatory smile before continuing. “Most of the Pendleton Building’s upper floors are offices just like they’ve always been. In some ways, being a high-level mage is not much different than being a high level bureaucrat.”

  “Good. You’re also totally sure about that thing you said, that they can’t detect the magic rock in me if they aren’t looking?” As I asked my question, I grabbed my duffel out of the backseat.

  “Yes, I’m totally sure.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “Why?”

  I unzipped the bag and grabbed the APD uniform shirt I’d tucked inside. Holding it up in both hands, I let the bag drop and grinned broadly. “Every office in the good old U.S. of A is visited by the APD man. God bless him in his noble work!”

  Gabriela’s face scrunched up for a moment, doubt etched in every cute wrinkle. When that initial moment passed, the doubt turned into a sly smile. “Well, Mr. Butcher, color me impressed. That just might work, assuming we get the details right.”