The Ballad Nocturne (The Midnight Defenders Book 3)

by Joey Ruff

“He’s dead?”

  She nodded.

  “You mentioned friends. Where are they?”

  “They have fled this town to escape the persecution. Some moved back to the city. Others, I do not know.”

  “Then why do you stay?” Nadia asked. She sounded sad.

  Ezra shrugged. “This is my home. Even though I no longer feel welcomed here, this is the place I grew up.”

  “You’re not even that old,” I said.

  “I am told I have an old soul,” Ezra said, turning to me. Her smile was beautiful, fresh and young, but her eyes… There was something ancient tucked away inside of her eyes. She didn’t give off the vibe I got with Crestmohr, but she sure as shit wasn’t showing all of her cards.

  “Wait,” DeNobb said. “Persecution? So, it’s more than just not letting you go to church and closing down your shop?”

  She nodded. “He sends the police out here every week to badger me with questions.”

  “About what?” I asked.

  “Last week, the church was vandalized. Week before that, there was a break-in down at the plant. Another time, there was an incident at a local farm.”

  “That’s terrible,” Nadia said. “That’s harassment.” She turned and looked at me. “You need to go talk to this preacher.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because this is the reason we came here, Jono. To help her. She’s being oppressed for her religious views.”

  “So call the NAACP. What the fuck am I supposed to talk to him about?”

  “I’m sure you can think of something to say with your usual candor.” Her large glassy eyes stared holes into me. “Please?”

  I sighed. “Fine. What’s this bloke’s name, and where can I find him?”

  “His name is Thomas St. Clair,” Ezra said. “His church is in town. You can’t miss it. There’s not but one.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Nadia, give me the keys.”

  She tossed them to me.

  Ezra smiled at Nadia, taking one of her hands in her own. “You have a kind heart, child. You remind me so much of your father.”

  Things were beginning to get too maudlin for me, and I headed for the door.

  Nadia said, “Jamie, aren’t you going with him?”

  “No,” I said. “He’s staying here.”

  I could feel the sudden tension behind me and could tell Nadia was giving him a look. “Yeah,” DeNobb said, and the sofa squeaked under him as he stood. “Yeah, I’d love to go.”

  I didn’t say anything, didn’t turn, just moved through the door and back out into the swampy humidity. As I reached the car, I heard the door shut behind me and turned to find DeNobb trailing after.

  “You’re not coming,” I said.

  “It’s not healthy to always be alone,” he said.

  “Piss off. I like being alone, but that’s not what this is.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “I don’t trust that cunt. This whole thing stinks like shit.”

  “I think that’s the swamp.”

  I ignored him. “I need you to keep an eye on Nadia.”

  “She told me to go with you.”

  “Just like the faithful puppy you are.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Do you feel good about leaving her alone with the voodoo lady?” I asked.

  He looked around wearily, taking note of the chicken dangling nearby. “No.”

  I nodded. “Keep your phone on you. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  “What do I tell Nadia?”

  “I don’t fucking care what you tell her. Say that I pulled a gun on you. Say that you need some quality time with her. Fuck, tell her the truth. It doesn’t matter. But I’m trusting you to keep an eye out. Can you handle that?”

  He nodded. His hands were a bit shaky, but his voice was firm. “I can do that.”

  “Call me if anything happens.”

  8

  Ape

  The medication made me drowsy, and I fell asleep on the sofa, watching mindless television. I woke sometime after noon. I managed to clean up, put on some fresh clothes, and had just sat down with a chicken salad sandwich.

  With the crutches, I’d managed to climb the stairs to the study. I sat at the desk with a small stack of books about ghosts and specters while the dogs dozed together in front of the fireplace nearby.

  Jono had asked me to research delayed hauntings. He wasn’t one to talk hypothetically, which meant something had happened. Given his reluctance to talk about it, it involved himself. Either it was regarding Anna and he wanted to avoid talking about it because he knew I didn’t approve of his spending so much time with her, or it was something else, though probably embarrassing in some way. Given the seemingly random time period he mentioned of twenty years, I was betting on the former.

  Something had happened. I knew from past experience that I couldn’t force anything out of him, but he would tell me when he was ready. All I could do, as much as I hated it, was give him the information he requested. Jono was a fighter, and his main weapon was knowledge. If he had the knowledge, he would be okay. Probably.

  Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what it could have been. DeNobb hadn’t mentioned anything, which meant it only involved Jono. Had Anna left the pool? Was such a thing even possible?

  I’d closed the second book and still no hints. I took a bite of the sandwich, opened another book, and collapsed back into the chair with a sigh.

  The wall to my right was covered, floor to ceiling, in book shelves, and Chess was standing on one shelf nearly at the top, his feather duster in-hand. He looked over at me and asked, “Is the chicken salad not to your liking?”

  “It’s perfect,” I said.

  “Do you require something else?”

  “I…. I don’t suppose you know anything about ghosts?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Jono was asking me earlier if a ghost could suddenly show up and haunt someone twenty years after their death. Is that possible?”

  “Human spirits pass through the veil, sir. Unless obstructed. A ghost, as you call it, would linger immediately or would pass on.”

  “So…it couldn’t happen.”

  “Not naturally. If such a thing did happen, it would be on account of tampering.”

  “Tampering? Like, a medium? A séance? Something like that?”

  “Someone or something could summon the spirit from the other side. Or perhaps something was done to weaken the veil itself, allowing a wandering spirit to cross between realms. While uncommon, it is not unheard of.”

  I thought about that for a moment. “Is there a book on that?”

  “On your desk, sir. The bottom of your stack.”

  “Of course,” I said. “It’s always the last book.”

  As I reached for the book, I heard a buzzing from the landline telephone sitting on the corner of the desk. Buzzing meant the intercom. Someone was at the gate. I looked at Chess, as though he were the one expecting company, but he stared dumbly back at me. “Bringing someone new in at this time is not wise,” he said. “Not with the Circadian Choir singing.”

  “I really have no idea what you mean by that, Chess, but I didn’t invite anyone over.”

  The intercom buzzed again, and I looked at the blinking light on the phone and hit the speaker button. “Hello?”

  “Fucking shit, brother. Took you a hot fucking minute to answer. Was starting to think you were taking a shit or something.”

  I took a deep breath and said, “London. What are you doing here?”

  “Came to check on you, brother. That bastard Swyftt said he was skipping town and I needed to come check the horses and some shit. Like I know a damn thing about fucking horses, but ya know, that guy saved my life so many fucking times it’s not like I can fucking say no to him, ya feel me?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course, Jono told you to check on me. Especially after telling me he wouldn’t.”

  “Yeah, brother. If you wanna open the
gate here, I’ll come on in and get to work.”

  I looked up at Chess, who was shaking his head. His eyes were wide and impatient. “What am I supposed to do?” I asked. The Brownie didn’t say anything. “It’ll just be for a little bit.” Chess remained quiet, but he must not have been happy because he just blinked out. One minute there, the next gone. Disappeared.

  I felt a little guilty, but I didn’t want to be rude to London, who’d just driven all the way in from the city. It wasn’t his fault Jono was inconsiderate.

  “Alright, London. Park behind the house.”

  I hung up the intercom and pushed the gate button.

  While I obviously couldn’t see it, I knew what was happening. Out at the road, the gate opened slowly and London would drive his pickup down the winding drive, past the foo sentries, and eventually pull around behind the house. If he’s like most people, he’ll probably stop upon seeing the house for the first time. The enormity of it tends to take people by surprise. I gave him about seven minutes before he’d be at the back door.

  I stood from the chair and grabbed my crutches, hobbling over to the door. The dogs looked up at me as I passed, watching me, and as soon as I opened the door, they both sprinted past me into the hallway and disappeared down the stairs. I was much slower navigating the stairs on crutches, and by the time I’d entered the living room, they were barking at the back door.

  Maybe Chess was trying to drive London away in passive-aggressive fashion by releasing the proverbial hounds, because by the time I’d reached the door, it had already been opened. I stood in the doorway watching them. London was on his back in the grass. Thai and Taboo were over top of him, pinning him under their combined weight, assaulting him with the rough, wet sandpaper of their tongues. He was laughing.

  I whistled, and the dogs both stopped, looked up at me, and ran past me into the house. When London stood, he had a smile on his face that stretched ear to ear and a heavily-laden plastic sack in his hand.

  “This is some fucking house,” he said.

  “It’s been in the family for as long as I can remember,” I said dismissively. “What do you have there?”

  He looked down at the plastic sack as though he’d forgotten it existed. “Oh, right. I brought some brews. Thought maybe we could watch the game later.” I expected him to walk toward the house then, but he didn’t. He motioned beyond his truck. “I see the barn there,” he added and stopped, considering something. “Is that what you call it? A barn? It’s not like it fucking is in the movies, all dirty and covered in pig shit…”

  “It’s still a barn,” I said. “We keep the tractor and lawn equipment in there. My groundskeeper has an apartment there, also. Those are his dogs.”

  He may not have even heard me, as he continued his previous thought. “But that other building over there, what the fuck is that?”

  “The garage,” I said. “Twenty car. There’s a gas pump on the side.”

  It was a long, one-story warehouse looking building with a garage door at either end, and a standard size door in the middle flanked by two windows. A couple of rose bushes sat sentry under each window.

  “I bet it’s like a fucking car dealership inside, right brother?” He laughed. “Fuck, man. Just like that fucking guy on the Late Show. Is it full?”

  “Well, the Renault’s still in the shop, but pretty close.”

  “You’ll have to show me later.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Why don’t you come inside for a little bit? Are you hungry?”

  “Fucking starving, man.” He took another longing glance toward the garage and slumped over to the door. As we entered the kitchen, he said, “You got so much fucking land here we should put in a fucking shooting range. I could seriously hook you up, brother, just say the fucking word.”

  London was a friend of Swyftt’s from the Hand of Shanai. He retired not long after Jono and I left and opened a gun and ammunition store in Seattle called Cocked and Loaded.

  “Well, I already have a range next to the garden, but it may need a little upgrading, so I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “Shit, brother. You gotta show me that bitch, too. We gonna have a full day, am I right?” He laughed again. “Maybe we can fire off a few rounds if you’re up to it. I’ve got a shit load of ammo in the truck. Damn, I really didn’t know you had such a sweet setup out here. You’ve been fucking holding out on me, brother.”

  “London, if I would’ve invited you out here before the gargoyle attack, would you have come?”

  It was like someone let all of his air out. His gaze drifted down to the ground as he said, “I really am sorry about that. You know that, right?”

  “I know,” I said. “It’s behind us. You don’t have to worry about it.”

  “But you’re fucking right,” he said. He put the plastic sack on the counter and peeled it down the side of the six-pack like it was a banana. “I wouldn’t have fucking come because I thought you were no better than all the rest of those damn fucking Korys.” He popped the top off the beer and took a long swig. He claimed one of the chairs at the round table by the window. “I was wrong, though, brother. I was wrong and I apologize.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said.

  “I’m going to,” he said. “Mama Ixit didn’t raise some fucking ingrate, ya feel me. Sure, I may have quit the fucking Hand because it was going to the Korys and fucking Halflings, and those motherfuckers will be the end of us all if Christ don’t come back before that happens, but I was wrong to put you in a category with them just because Jesus gave you a fur coat.” He took another swig. “Are we cool?”

  I nodded. “We’ve been cool. Don’t worry about it.”

  “That’s why I’m here, brother. You fucking saved my life from those bitch gargoyles and I fucking owe you a solid. Just like Swyftt from all the times he saved my fucking life.”

  “You saved me. You got me to the hospital.”

  “Well, man, we’re fucking brothers now. Whatever you need, man, I got you. Okay?”

  “I appreciate it,” I said. “Were you drinking before you came over?”

  He laughed. “I just had a couple drinks at the shop. I closed up early today to come here.”

  “You said you were hungry, do you want a muffin? Or I’ve got chicken salad?”

  “Man, whatever you got. I don’t want you to go to any trouble on my account, brother.”

  I made him a chicken salad sandwich while he finished his beer and opened a second. I set the plate in front of him and he immediately took a bite and said, “Oh man, this is fucking delicious. Did you make this shit?”

  “No. We have a Brownie. He does most all the cooking.”

  “No shit? Holy fuck, brother. The last person I knew to have a Brownie was like a fucking Saudi oil baron, but it wasn’t even because of his money. It was because he’d built the house on some burial ground or some sacred shit like that. That’s wild.” He took another bite, another swig of beer. “Well, your Brownie makes fucking awesome chicken salad.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t a phrase you heard very often. “I’ll make sure to tell him.” I noticed Chess’ absence for the first time, then, and thought it was strange if for no other reason than I’d become used to his presence. Still, he didn’t like to be around others, and I knew that. “An old family legend states the house was actually given to my great grandfather because it was said to be haunted and no one else would live here.”

  “Your granddad a hunter, too?”

  “No. Don’t think so. He made his money in the gold rush and came north, invested wisely, bought a shipping company and a lot of land.”

  “Better than I got.” He drained the rest of his second beer and took a third. “My daddy was in the fucking Army. His daddy before him and his daddy and on down. There was an Ixit fucking stomping on Hitler and there was an Ixit tea-bagging the king before that. I’m from a line of soldiers, ya feel it, and I’m still carrying on the tradition to this day.”

&
nbsp; “Different kind of war,” I said.

  “Fucking say that again.” He drank and fell into silence.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  I crutched my way into the living room only to find Chess standing on a china hutch in the shadows. “That man needs to leave, sir. His presence is a disruption.”

  “I know he’s a little rough around the edges, but if we’re being honest, it’s a little nice to have someone to talk to. Besides, I can’t just send him on right now. He’s just finished three beers and he’s drank God-knows-what before he got here. It’s not safe for him to drive. He’ll be fine.”

  Chess didn’t say anything, just glowered at me.

  “Do you want to meet him?” I asked. “Get his scent or anything like you did with Jono or DeNobb?”

  “I can smell him sufficiently from here.”

  “Okay. Good. I don’t really know the protocol here. We don’t get many new visitors. The way you’ve been talking in riddles and everything lately, I feel like there’s maybe a user’s manual that I should’ve read that nobody ever showed me…”

  Chess’ eyes went wide.

  “What?” I asked. “Did I say something?”

  “How foolish of me,” was all he said.

  There was a noise from the kitchen and London called, “Ape, brother, you mind if I make another sandwich? That’s good shit.”

  I turned to him for just a second, but it was all the time Chess needed to vanish again.

  9

  Swyftt

  The church was only a few blocks from the diner, right there on the main drag. Exactly as advertised. It was a small building, white, with a towering steeple. There were two separate doors on the front, both red, with a separate set of stairs leading to each.

  I pulled into the lot and parked along the side of the building. A row of windows held up the roof on this side, and one of them was boarded over with plywood, black stains of scorching fire leaked out from around the top and sides of the board.

  I walked to the nearest of the two entrances, climbing the few stairs with somewhat of a hop. As I reached for the knob, the door opened inward. It caught me off-guard. Even more so the man that stood just beyond the threshold.