His gaze flickered from me to Diocles and back again. When I checked on the emperor, he’d faded away.
Cortez’s voice rose from somewhere else in the house. Juanito’s smile gave way to a look of guilt. He quickly scurried off.
I started in on my food. The pozole was as excellent as expected, with a sharp heat to it I could appreciate. Suddenly, I was ravenous. I emptied the pozole in swift fashion and was nearly done with the cornbread by the time Cortez returned.
“Ha! My Maria is a good cook, isn’t she?”
“She’s a chef. I notice she doesn’t stay exactly with recipes, though. I’ve had pozole and this has got some interesting changes.”
He laughed. “She likes to experiment. Every time she sees something she likes from another country, she has to see how it works with her abuela’s recipes. Not that I’m complaining, you know?”
“I doubt you’d ever have a reason.” I downed the water. “I need to leave, Cortez.”
He started to reach for a nonexistent Lucky. “Hey! After all this, you could call me Alejandro—or at least Alex like they do downtown.”
“Sure, Alex. I could do that, Alejandro.”
He grinned. “Nah. I didn’t think so, either, but Maria suggested it. I’m good with ‘Cortez.’ Least when you greet me, you sound like you mean it. Not like the brass who smile at me and use those two names when what they really want to call me is ‘greaser’ or worse.”
“Surprised you put up with it.”
“I was born to be a policeman. Told Maria that the first day we met, you know? Like my destiny.” He stepped forward and took the tray. “Maria will be happy you liked the meal. She really thinks you’re something. Like a living saint, you know?”
“Guess she doesn’t know me like you do.”
He grew serious. “She’s a good judge, Nick Medea. Now get yourself together and I’ll drive you back, okay?”
“I can still take a cab.”
“From this part of town at night? This ain’t Lincoln Park. No argument.”
He left me again. Maybe there was some extra magic in the pozole or maybe the dragon’s own power had kicked in, but I was able to move around with less pain.
The first thing I did was make an overdue check on Her Lady’s gift. I tossed on the overcoat and let the magic take effect. Reaching in toward my heart, I located the other place where the sword was kept. Much to my relief, it was there and ready. When Galerius’s golem, or whatever that faceless thing was, had attacked me, I’d wondered if it’d been sent for the sword. Of course, now it’d had two chances and failed to act both times.
I finished dressing and, with one last look back at where Diocles had stood, headed out.
Maria stood with Cortez by the front door. She gave me another smile and a strong hug. “Thank you for honoring our home.”
“Hmm. Thanks for patching me up.”
“I’ll come right back,” Cortez told her.
“I know,” she replied.
A dark and well-worn Pilot sedan about six years old awaited us. The car was nothing special to look at, but durable. Cortez was clearly proud of it.
“Not fancy, but it fits the whole family,” he commented as he started it up. “I promised Maria when they make me commissioner I’ll get something special.”
We drove off into the night. It didn’t take long for Cortez to bring up a subject I’d expected to discuss at his home.
“This event you spoke about. It ever happen, Bo?”
“Apparently, my info was off. Sorry.”
“Yeah?” Eyes on the street, he said, “Sorry to hear that. Thought it might have to do with the lake, seeing as that’s where I found you after someone put you through the wringer.”
“Don’t know any connection. I think I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and got mugged.”
“Maybe so, maybe so.” He was quiet for a minute before asking, “Know anything about a ship called the Frank O’Connor?”
“Should I?”
“Went down off of Door County, Wisconsin? Near a place called Baileys Harbor?”
“Now why on Earth would I be familiar with that? Or why would you, for that matter? Was there a lot of loss of life?”
“No. No one died. It just burned and sank.” Cortez shrugged. “Just something strange that came up, you know? Had a floater last night. Small potatoes hood I ran in a couple of times. He used to brag he was tough, and to show it he always told a yarn about surviving its fire and sinking.”
I assumed there had to be more. “And so?”
“And so, the night before, a beat cop found a stiff in an alley. Literally stiff. Frozen. License said he was from Baileys Harbor. Quite a coincidence, huh?”
I said nothing.
“Got his name here, too.” The Pilot swerved as he tried to retrieve the information from a pocket. “Maybe not a good idea. No matter! I got a good memory for names, you know? Ever meet someone with a last moniker of Tremaine?”
“Can’t say.”
“What was the first name again? Not too common for here. Hang on, it was . . . yeah, that’s it. Sebastian. Know anybody first name Sebastian, maybe?”
Yeah. Yeah, I did. Joseph’s mysterious comrade Sebastian.
Another piece of the puzzle had just fallen into place . . . only I still had no idea just what the picture was.
CHAPTER 13
I had Cortez drop me at Claryce’s. He didn’t say a thing about my choice or ask to come inside. I’d left the subject of Sebastian Tre-maine untouched, but I knew that he suspected I was holding something back.
“Try to stay patched up, Bo,” the detective warned as I climbed out of the Pilot. “Might not be there to gather the pieces, you know?”
“I’ll see if I can accommodate you.”
“Listen, and if you do run into Ladykiller Leighton, best tell me.”
“Sure. If I run into him. Thanks for everything, Cortez.”
He reached into his coat and pulled out a pack of Luckies. He stuck an unlit one in the corner of his mouth, then offered me the pack. As usual, I shook my head.
Putting away the pack, the detective gave me a last nod and drove off.
I surveyed the vicinity and only recognized Claryce’s car. There was no sign of the Model T Quiet had been driving. Nevertheless, I remained wary as I went to her apartment.
She answered after barely a knock. With a pensive glance around, Claryce pulled me inside.
Not at all to my surprise, Quiet sat in one of the chairs, the piece turned so that he could watch the door.
“Nick! How did—”
I cut her off as I focused on our guest, noticing now that Fetch had taken up a position by the couch that would let him pounce on Quiet if need be. Good boy, Fetch.
“So, were you on the Frank O’Connor?”
He shook his head. “No. My brother. Died in the fire.”
“They said no one perished.”
“They were wrong.”
“What’s this all about, Nick?” Claryce asked, eyeing Quiet with renewed wariness. “Is this about . . . him?”
She referred to Galerius. “Actually, it might have more to do with Joseph. Your brother have something to do with a Sebastian Tremaine?”
“Colin got caught up in a lot of promises Tremaine made,” Quiet finally replied. “Got introduced to some bad eggs. Slick types led by some mastermind. Something went wrong with their caper, though, and there was only Tremaine left. He found some other bigwig who wanted the Frank O’Connor to sail to a certain spot just off of the Wisconsin coast. Real specific coordinates.”
“Pretty much where it sank?”
“Yeah. Colin should’ve known better, but he was always looking for something.” Quiet grunted. “Not even a body to bury.”
“I’m sorry,” Claryce told him.
He shrugged. “Lot of buddies in the war didn’t leave anything, either. Like Mike. Happens a lot.”
“Did you kill Sebastian Tremaine?” I fin
ally asked.
“Nah. Was trying to find him. Did get into a fight with a punk who’d been aboard the ship. He gave me the slip, though. Was trying to use him to locate Tremaine. Remembered Tremaine from a letter Colin wrote.”
Something I had meant to check earlier occurred to me again. Cortez had failed to mention what might be one pertinent piece of info. “Just when did the Frank O’Connor go down?”
“Third of October. 1919.”
1919. Just months after the Wingfoot Express disaster and tied to Sebastian Tremaine by his association with Joseph. I was seeing something larger and larger forming, something at the center of which had always been Galerius. He had used Joseph’s ambitions and H. H. Holmes’s own obsessions, just as he had long ago manipulated Diocles into executing me.
Claryce put her hand on my wrist, the only sign that she, too, understood the connection. I could see Tremaine trying to make use of what he and the rest had attempted with the dirigible, this time adjusting calculations. He had done so either as a dupe or even possibly an active ally of Galerius, although with Galerius it’d likely been the former.
“So,” Quiet abruptly started. “A dragon.”
I didn’t say anything.
“It wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’ve seen.”
That got my attention. “How long?”
“Since I was a kid. Seems to be getting worse, though. See a lot more, especially since I reached Chicago. Colin saw things, too. Could never handle them as well. Don’t think he ever saw a dragon, though.”
“And neither did you,” I responded.
“Neither did I,” the veteran agreed with another shrug. “Fine. Not the first time I’ve not seen things, too.”
“How did you know to follow us?” Claryce asked, in what I suspected was an attempt to turn to less discomforting subjects.
“Didn’t follow you. Saw the car near where I was searching for Tremaine. Lost it. Found it and saw you. You know the rest.” He met my gaze as if he’d never seen me transform into a winged leviathan. “My turn for questions. Who are they?”
I shook my head. “Thugs working for someone you don’t want to run into. A personal grudge against me. Thanks for the help, but leave it alone.”
Quiet looked around for what I realized was a cold cup of coffee sitting on the table between the chair and the couch. He reached back for both the cup and his cap, which lay next to it. He downed the contents, then, cap in hand, stood. “Sure thing. Glad I could help. I’ll be leaving, then.”
His sudden change didn’t fool me for a moment. As he neared me, I put a warning hand on his chest. “I mean it. You’ve seen things. I’ve lived things. There’s a difference.”
He looked past me at Claryce.
“She’s lived things, too, Ford. Not by choice.”
Quiet frowned. “Sorry to hear it, miss.” He donned his cap, pulling the brim low over his eyes. “Best of luck to both of you.”
I wasn’t ready to let him go just yet. Not until I was sure he understood just how serious I was.
Quiet looked down at my hand as if debating whether or not to try to break it. Finally, he nodded a last time.
Against my better judgement, I let him leave. Fetch jumped up the moment he left.
“No,” I warned him. “Let him go.”
“He’s a wild one, he is,” Fetch said. “Mark me, he’ll fall back into all this at the worst possible moment, Master Nicholas!”
“Maybe that won’t be such a bad thing. Someone’s got him marked. There’s a particular fate in store for him. I’ve seen it.”
Claryce looked puzzled. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not the only pawn I’ve ever met. There’ve been others. A few like him, I’ve seen Michael’s hand. Others, I’ve seen a different power clearly trying to manipulate.”
“‘Different power’?”
“In case you didn’t notice last time we were in a church, there are more saints than just Michael and me . . . and most of them are probably more like Michael. Who knows? Maybe more frustrating.”
Fetch’s ears flattened. “‘Tis beginning to sound too much like Feirie, if ye don’t mind me saying so.”
“Not at all.” I cleared my throat. “Almost forgot to tell you, Claryce. Had a visitor at Cortez’s home. Diocles.”
“He survived! I mean—”
“That’ll do. A little worse for wear, but him.”
She smiled. “I know he and you have a bad history, Nick—”
“It’s your history, too.”
“Don’t think I haven’t given that some thought. But . . . wait. How could he appear in Cortez’s place? I thought he could only materialize in holy spots.”
“If you ever meet Cortez’s wife, you’ll understand.”
“Oh really? I get permanent reincarnation and she gets a holy blessing?”
I tried. “A lot of people would love reincarnation.”
“Dying violently each time takes a lot of the pleasure out of it.”
I couldn’t deny that. Hoping to avoid burying myself deeper, I returned to the main subject. “This keeps revolving around a small list of things, Galerius at the center. Lake Michigan. The Wingfoot. The Clothos Deck.”
“Should we take the motorboat out into the lake, Nick? Clearly, Michael wants us to do that.”
“But where and when? We could waste weeks scouring the lake . . . assuming whatever tried to take the dragon and me doesn’t grab us first.”
Eye will boil it and then devour it whole! My unseen companion snarled. Eye will tear it into hair!
Shut up. Still, I couldn’t fault his desire. Whatever lurked in the depths of Lake Michigan had to eventually be faced. How it was tied to Galerius, I didn’t know, but I was certain it was. I was also certain that it hadn’t originated on the mortal plane, which meant a return visit to Her Lady’s Court was probably necessary.
My legs suddenly started to give out on me. Claryce jumped in and caught me. As she did, I spotted a small brooch on her blouse. With all that’d happened, I was surprised to have missed it.
I was even more surprised to recognize it.
She got me to the couch before I could collapse. As Claryce helped me sit, I managed to gesture at the brooch. It was clearly antique, with a silver leaf border around the profile of a young woman. “Where’d you get that?”
“You need more rest. Worry about that, all right?”
“Where’d you get it?”
Her expression tightened in a way I didn’t like. “It’s hers, then . . . or maybe I should really say it’s mine and I just found it after losing it a long time ago? Say fifty-five years?”
She meant Clarissa O’Halloran, her incarnation who’d died around the time of the Great Fire. I recognized the brooch because I’d been there when she—Clarissa—had first gotten it—
Suddenly remembering something else, my question took on new, more urgent meaning. “I’m being deadly serious. Where did you get that?”
Claryce caught my change of tone. “I ran across it more than a week ago. A sale to support a charity run by the Romanian Orthodox Church on North Clybourn. St. Mary’s, I think.”
“What made you choose it?”
She thought about it. “You know, I just felt like there was something nearby for which I’d been searching most of my life. When I stopped in front of the table where it lay, I knew it was mine.”
“Has this happened before?”
“Yes . . . and more since I started pursuing my past. The brooch was just the strongest incident so far.”
Another change. As I didn’t believe in coincidence, I didn’t trust where this was going. Claryce had long revealed herself to be a strong, exceptional presence, but the timing didn’t sit well with me.
“What made you go to that neighborhood in the first place?” I finally asked.
“Remember the last time we checked your files for information? You hadn’t slept in about a week and finally needed to pause.”
/> And instead of immediately tying up things as she’d promised, Claryce had instead rummaged through other files first. Familiar with my system, she’d been able to cross-reference what she knew about her previous incarnation with other news reports.
I had only myself to thank for her swift success in tracking down her life as Clarissa. With Clarissa especially, I’d saved articles leading up to her death in the hopes of eventually determining how to save the life of the next incarnation. Of course, that’d gone away simply due to the fact I’d never even known about Claudette and had assumed Claryce was the next. By then, the fifty or so years passing had made me put aside my original intention and even forget the depths to which the articles and notes I’d gathered went.
“And that brought you to the brooch.”
“Yes,” she answered much too quickly.
Before I could open my mouth, Fetch confessed his guilt. “‘Twas me, Master Nicholas. I provided her with any missing clues, such as the boarding house she stayed at before the Fire.”
“You mean Clarissa.”
He dipped his head. “As you prefer.”
“It’s all right, Nick. I’m growing more comfortable with it as time goes on. It’s actually comforting in some ways to recall some of those moments.”
Claryce might’ve been growing more comfortable, but I wasn’t. I thought back to all the mistakes I’d made that’d cost Clarissa O’Halloran her life. I didn’t want Claryce remembering them, too.
My head chose that moment to swim again. I barely laid it down in time.
Claryce came to my side. Kneeling, she gave me a kiss and said, “Don’t worry about anything but getting some rest. We’re not going anywhere or doing anything until you have.”
I would’ve argued . . . but barely a breath later, I was asleep.
I woke up to the comforting smell of coffee and the disconcerting sight of Fetch lying on his back on the floor next to me like a puppy. Fortunately, a few seconds later, his nose twitched from the scent and he rolled over onto his side. Eyes opening, he looked from the direction of the kitchen to me.
“‘Tis a long slumber ye had, Master Nicholas,” he remarked.
I looked at my watch. He wasn’t kidding, We were well into the next day.
Black City Dragon Page 15
