Messiah of Burbank - An Urban Fantasy (Quinn Henaghan Chronicles Book 3)

by Paul Neuhaus

  “Adam Johns.”

  “I understand that Adam Johns is no bueno, but it’s not like you’re fighting over territory or oppressed peoples. If it’s completely political, I want no part of it. Although there is something you should understand: I have a personal beef against Johns. If I can lay hands on him, I’m gonna tear him apart. That may help you, but I’m not looking to do any more beyond that. I’m a late-comer and I’m not gonna develop an unhealthy streak of nationalism this late in the game.”

  Ferley sat back and sighed. “That’s… disappointing. But I understand your reasoning. If I was sitting where you’re sitting, I’d probably take the same stance.”

  “No one’s doing any more killing or any more dying.” The voice came from the kitchen. It was Josie. She’d come in on bare feet and was searching the kitchen for something to eat. She, of course, settled on the box of sugar cubes. Quinn started to get up and Taft motioned her back down. “No more consoling for right now,” she said.

  Henaghan sat back down. Ferley whispered to her from across the table. “Is that Glen Sharp’s niece?”

  The redhead nodded.

  “Damnedest thing,” the chief said. “A Changeling. How is she?”

  Henaghan answered right away. “She’s perfect.”

  “Right. Yeah, she’s a beautiful girl.” Then Ferley looked confused. “Anyway… What were we talking about?”

  “You were trying to recruit me. I told you I was gonna pass.”

  “Right. Right.” Ferley stood. He stuck out his hand. “I wish I could say I wasn’t disappointed but I am. But I also get it so take care of yourself. Let me know if you need guards or protections or anything. Obligation-free.”

  Quinn took Ferley’s hand and shook it. “Thanks. You’ve got a lot more class than your ex-buddy.”

  Ferley grinned. “Hell, I know that.”

  David stood and said, “C’mon, I’ll walk you out.” He turned to the teenager in the kitchen. “Josie, I’m making a supply run. What do you want to eat?”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything within reason.”

  Taft didn’t hesitate. “Large Fatburger. Onion rings. Strawberry shake.”

  “Check,” Olkin said. He turned to Quinn. “What do you and Molly want?”

  “Two mediums. We’ll split a fry.”

  The two men left and shut the front door behind them. Josie sat down at the dining room table and she and Quinn watched the men repair the window.

  After they ate their hamburgers and persuaded David to go home and get some sleep, Josie returned to her room and shut the door. She told Molly and Quinn to sleep in their own bed and give her some peace. Both funky aunts reluctantly agreed. But Josie didn’t spend much time thinking. With the weight of the day’s events, she was asleep quickly and dreaming in no time at all.

  The girl found herself on a ledge overlooking choppy surf far below. She was pressed hard against a wall of rock. The path was narrow. She sensed she’d been climbing for a while and that she was about to reach her destination. Sure enough, she put out a hand and felt empty air. She’d come at last to the cave. How she knew there would be a cave was not something she understood, but the cave was there nonetheless.

  From out of the mouth of rock came a peculiar odor. A combination that Josie could not identify but which was characterized by its sickly sweetness. She didn’t know where she was or why she was here, but Taft felt a compulsion to go on. Sucking in a deep breath of clean air, she entered the opening in the rock and descended through a man-made tunnel. As she went deeper and deeper, she heard a peculiar chorus of sounds. Voices and wind and whistles and chimes. Not unpleasant but not natural either. The deeper she went the brighter the illumination from up ahead became. By the time she reached the end of the tunnel, the pasty light showed her intricately-carved columns with writing in a language she’d never seen. She wanted to stop and examine these relics of a lost culture, but the light and odd sounds compelled her to go deeper. The spherical chamber beyond the tunnel took her breath away, but she had no time to marvel. In front of her, on a raised platform, was a woman made of light. Six feet tall and imperious, her eyes tracking Josie as she entered. Josie stopped a short distance away from the woman. “What do you want from me?” she said.

  Nisha, the woman made of light, smiled. “What makes you think I want anything from you?”

  Taft folded her arms in front of her chest. “Because I’ve never been here before and because this isn’t a simple dream. It’s more than that.”

  “Come closer,” Nisha said. To sweeten the deal, she sat down on the lip of her platform, bringing her eyes level with Josie’s.

  Josie took tentative steps toward her host.

  “You’re right,” Nisha said. “This is no mere dream. But I didn’t bring you here. You brought yourself here.”

  The teenager laughed. “Why would I do that since I don’t know where here is?”

  The woman made of light leaned back, resting her weight on her hands. A surprisingly casual gesture. “Why would you do that? Here: let me show you…”

  For the first time, Josie noticed there was a slit in the center of the platform and, from out of the slit, there came a luminous vapor. As Nisha finished her statement, several snake-like objects supplanted the vapor. They wriggled through the slit and swam upward into the darkness. Taft saw them come back down again into the sphere of illumination. They were Vidyaadhara. Phantasms. They swam toward Josie. Since her prior encounters with phantasms had not gone well, the teenager gasped then dropped into a crouch and covered her head with her hands.

  “No!” Nisha said from her place on the platform. She sat up and stretched out a hand. The phantasms stopped where they were. “Get up,” the light-woman said with contempt. “The Vidyaadhara react to your state of mind. If you panic, they will eat you. If you show them no fear, they will respect you. Now get up.”

  Josie looked toward the phantasms with deep suspicion. They waited, gauging her demeanor. She dropped her arms and raised her back. Tentatively, she stood.

  “Good,” Nisha said. “But it’s not enough to show it, you have to feel it. Do you fear these creatures?”

  “Yes,” Taft said.

  “Then you will die.” The light-woman lowered her upraised hand and the Vidyaadhara rushed at Josie en masse.

  The teenager’s instinctual reaction was to run and, for nearly too long a time, that was what her mind told her to do. At the last moment before the first phantasm reached her, a new thought took hold. Not a thought but an instinct. Pure animal dominance. The confidence of a lion lording over its pride. Josie screamed, but it wasn’t a scream of fear. It was a scream of assertion. It said, “Stay where you are! Mind your place!”

  The Vidyaadhara stopped, bunching up on one another and waiting. Waiting for another command.

  Nisha rose again to a standing position. She was jubilant. “Good!” she said. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”

  On its face, it was a silly question, but Josie knew what the light-woman meant. Not only was Taft still alive, she was awash in new confidence and new ability. “Yes,” she replied. “I’m alive.”

  “That is good. My name is Nisha and I will be your teacher.”

  Quinn went back to Arista Laboratories in Panorama City ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, the day didn’t find Sam in the best of moods. Donald Gilstrap warned Quinn while Quinn got into her booties and lab coat, but Quinn was determined to press on. Gilstrap got Henaghan a chair and she took it with her when the man opened the door to room 7C.

  Quinn found Sam lying on her couch with her eyes closed and her hands folded on her chest. She put down her chair and stood next to it. “I’m sorry, Sam. Are you awake? Is now a bad time?”

  Sam opened her eerie eyes and turned her head toward her visitor. “No, Miss Henaghan, it’s not a bad time. With me, there are no bad times or good times. I am constantly at your disposal and everyone else’s. I am a zoo animal here for your entertainment and yo
ur edification.”

  Quinn looked at Gilstrap who shrugged. She remained standing as she said. “You’re right of course. I should have called ahead. I’d like to have a phone installed in here if possible. Barring that, I’ll have Donald relay my requests from now on. Would you like me to go away and come back another time?”

  Sam sighed and came to a seated position. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m not feeling very polite today. Please, have a seat.”

  Quinn sat and nodded to Gilstrap. Gilstrap told them he’d be outside if they needed him. He left and shut the door. The redhead had a bag with her. She put it down on the floor and turned her full attention to her host. “Sam, I don’t mean to be presumptuous… I know we’ve only just met, but would you tell me what’s bothering you? I’d like for us to be friends.”

  Sam smirked, realized she was smirking and quickly banished the expression. When she spoke, she sounded sincere, but Quinn realized it was an affect. “That’s kind of you, Quinn. It really is. But I’ll always consider myself at a disadvantage in personal interactions. Especially as long as I’m in here. While you may be earnest, part of me will always assume you’re just harvesting data.”

  Ouch, Henaghan thought. But, then again, if I was in Sam’s position, I’d think the same thing. She started to suggest a therapist but realized Sam would view that with suspicion as well. And rightly so. Instead of pressing the issue, she said, “I understand completely.” She bent down and picked up her bag. From it, she withdrew David Olkin’s file on Eleanor Wasowska, opened it and handed it to Sam so she could see the first page. On that first page were the blurry black and white photos of the now-deceased woman.

  Sam looked at the photos then back up at Quinn. “What’s this?”

  “Mr. Olkin inherited the paper trail Reginald Verbic left behind him. He owned a club in Venice Beach called Siesta del Mar. That woman—Eleanor Wasowska—worked at the club. As a cocktail waitress. We have every reason to believe Eleanor Wasowska was your mother.”

  The Asura-human hybrid’s jaw dropped. “Every reason to believe? How do you mean?”

  “Eleanor worked at Siesta del Mar for a short time. After the ‘Gladys Incident’ she was no longer on the payroll. She was also no longer in Los Angeles. She went back to Phoenix where she was from. The ‘Gladys’ timeline and the Eleanor timeline overlap one another.”

  Sam looked back down at the paper then back up at Quinn. She was speechless. “This… This is the face I’ve seen in my dreams. May I keep this?”

  “Of course,” Henaghan said. She could feel tears welling up. “I wish there was more, but it’s all we’ve been able to dig up so far.”

  Sam’s voice grew quieter. “And we still don’t know why? Why they did it to her?”

  “We still don’t know why.”

  “May I— May I be alone now?”

  “Of course.” Quinn stood and folded her chair. “If you need anything, please tell Donald, and I’ll come as soon as I’m able.”

  Sam nodded, and the redhead took her chair with her to the exit. Before Quinn left, Sam said, “Thank you, Quinn.”

  Quinn nodded, and Donald Gilstrap let her out.

  The next morning, Quinn left to go to the grocery store. The work on the front window was nearly complete. The glass had been installed and now the frame just needed painting.

  As Henaghan stepped down off the curb and went around to the Prius’ driver side, she heard a psst. She looked to her right and, standing on the sidewalk at the rear of her vehicle, was Tom Henaghan. He looked concerned. “What happened?” he said, indicating the workmen and the unpainted areas of the house.

  “We had a home invasion yesterday,” Quinn said, uncertain how to react.

  The elder Henaghan took two steps toward his daughter. “God. Was anyone hurt?”

  “Two dead. Molly’s father. My fake niece’s real uncle.”

  Tom clenched his jaw. Whatever vestigial sense of paternal territoriality kicked in. “What can I do?”

  The redhead smiled, but it wasn’t a smile of affection. It was more wistful than that. “Daddy, I think it’s a little late for that now.”

  The man stopped short and nodded once. “I deserve that. I know I do. You know what I’ve realized in the years since you’ve been gone?”

  Quinn shook her head.

  “I’m a weak man. I’ve always been a weak man. It’s not a good feeling.”

  The younger Henaghan opened her car door and tossed her purse over to the passenger side. “I’m glad you’ve got some self-awareness, but—I’m sorry, this is gonna sound harsh—it doesn’t mean anything. Certainly not now. I needed you to find religion twenty years ago and now you’ve got it after it no longer matters.”

  Tom reacted as if he’d been slapped. He nodded, started to speak and stopped.

  “Why’re you here? I thought you went back to Atlanta.”

  “I was. I mean we were going, but your mother’s been in a state. You don’t see her the way she is behind closed doors. She’s been heartbroken over the way things went before. She desperately wants to see you before she passes. She wants the two of you to be on better terms before she goes.”

  Quinn leaned against the Prius. “Daddy,” she said. “You weren’t there for me before, but you can be there for me now. All I want from you right now is that you not lie.”

  “Okay,” Tom said, uncertain of where the conversation was headed.

  “Has Olivia, even once in all the years I’ve been gone, said that what happened between she and I was her fault? Has she, even once, admitted guilt?”

  “I— No, I don’t guess she has.”

  “Has she ever told you why she systematically tortured me when I was a little girl? And I don’t mean because she wanted to awaken my powers. That’s the outcome she wanted but it wasn’t the reason. It doesn’t fit her personality. It’s not selfish enough. Why did she want a little girl Aja?”

  The elder Henaghan took a deep breath and locked eyes with his daughter. “Your mother was never much growing up—apart from being beautiful. Her family paid her very little attention. She… wanted a special daughter so…”

  “Go on. Finish the thought.”

  “She wanted you to be something so she could be something.”

  The girl put her head down on her car and fought off tears. Tom started to come toward her. “Stop!” Quinn said. “Stay where you are.”

  Tom did as he was told.

  Quinn raised her head. “Go back to Atlanta. Take Olivia with you. After she passes, maybe you and I will talk again. I haven’t decided.”

  Quinn’s father stood for a moment, unsure of what to do. He finally walked away. For the first time, Quinn noticed Mia waiting by her own car. Quinn avoided looking at her sister as she climbed into the Prius and drove off.

  That evening, Josie snuck over to Lailah’s house. As soon as Taft was through the back door, Lailah pulled her close and hugged her. “I heard about what happened,” the taller girl said. “I’m so sorry.”

  Josie remained stoic. Deep down, she wanted to cry, but knew she was unlikely to stop once she’d started. “I don’t wanna talk about any of that. I’m here so I won’t have to.”

  Lailah stepped back, nodding. “Do you wanna maybe focus on something else?”

  “Yeah, definitely.” Taft looked around. Again, there was no one else in the house. “What do your parents do, anyway? I haven’t seen either one of them.”

  “You’re not missing anything,” the taller girl said. “Really. They’re the mayonnaise on white bread of people. Boring to the nth degree.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Listen, when I said, ‘Do you wanna focus on something else?’ I had something in mind. Something I think’ll get you out of your own head.”

  “I like the sound of that. What is it?”

  “Hold on,” Lailah said. She ran out of the room, Josie heard some banging about in another part of the house, and then she returned, holding a cigar box. “Alright. Bea
r with me,” she said. “I’ve been doing this for a while and, no, my parents don’t know anything about it.” She sat down at the dining room table with the box in front of her and with her hands on top of the box. Not knowing what else to do, Taft sat down opposite her. “The thing in this box is… mind-altering. I’m not even a Channeler and I’ve seen some crazy shit on this stuff… For you, it could be life-changing. Opens doors. Expands horizons. All that shit.”

  Josie rolled her eyes. “So, it’s drugs. Just say it’s drugs.”

  “What’re you, McGruff the Crime Dog? Yeah, it’s drugs, but it’s not that shit the mundanes use.”

  “Right. It’s Caress.”

  Lailah deflated. “You’ve heard of it…”

  “I was at clinic for addicts. Over in Sylmar. Looked like a bad scene.”

  “Addicts? I’ve been using this stuff for months, I haven’t had the first hint of an addiction. Maybe this clinic of yours is full of dummies and lightweights. Anyway, I’m not proposing you try and it keep using it. I’m telling you it might get rid of your blockage.”

  “My blockage? What blockage?”

  Lailah cocked her head like she was talking to an idiot. “Didn’t you tell me your powers were latent? Take this. Once. Not only will you feel great, I bet you get in touch with your abilities for the very first time.” She slid the box toward Taft.

  Taft opened the box. Inside was a length of rubber tube, a syringe and a little vial of luminescent blue fluid. She looked at the contents for a moment and then closed the lid. She slid the box back across the table and said, “It’s not for me.”

  Lailah tsked. “You think it’s not for you. You’re gonna find out different.”

  The two of them went into the living room to play Xbox One. Josie felt uncomfortable for the rest of the afternoon, but she tried not to let it dampen their good time. She felt odd because Lailah had crossed a line protocol-wise. She felt odd because her better angels told her to stay the hell away from Caress. She felt odd because a tiny voice inside her told her to try it. It might ease her grief. It might help her get past her problems with control. She was like a soda can, newly shaken and ready to either pop or fizzle. When the time came for Josie to leave, Lailah remained in the living room playing Dungeon Descent. As Josie headed for the back door, the taller girl said, “You can have the box. I’ve got more.”