“Just what the hell is Daemon up to?” said Jude, still trying to buy time. For what, he knew not, but time was always a useful commodity. Especially when it looked to be running out.
“I am here to keep you from asking questions, young man,” said the Mage, pointing his staff at Jude. “Not to answer more of them.” The Mage spat out a word of power and Jude felt his muscles lock. He could still breathe, could move his eyes. But the rest of his skeletal muscles had locked in place, leaving him at the mercy of the two men.
Jude fought against the spell with all of his will. Being a Mage himself, he knew how to fight back. Whether he would have the strength to defeat the spell was another question. The Mage moved to one side, his eyes and will focused on Jude, while the gunman approached, pistol pointed at the Detective. The Mage moved closer to the wall with his eyes locked on Jude, not paying attention to his surroundings. Jude felt some hope as he saw how close the Mage was to the dark doorway, and moving closer.
No one really knew what the Shadows were, or where they came from. They had first started appearing three centuries ago, and were made up of negative energy, the opposite of the life force that animated living creatures. Most of the time they took the form of black constructs of once living creatures, though they could assume the aspects of mythological beasts and animals that had been extinct for millions of years. They were physically hurt by light, and long exposure to bright light could break up their structure. They fed on the raw, unprocessed form of life force, when they could get it. And they could sense that life force, like a normal predator could take the scent of a prey animal.
The large claw came out of the pitch blackness of the room, hooking into the shoulder of the Mage and ripping his flesh. Blood poured down and the Mage was turned toward the door. Jude thought the great head that came out of the darkness, roaring in pain at exposure to the light, was reminiscent of a lion, a predator that had been extinct for almost two hundred years. The maw opened and closed on the head of the Mage, then pulled back into the darkness, jerking the body of the man with it into the dark room. Jude knew the Mage was dead at that instant, because the paralysis left his body and he gained control of his muscles.
The other gunman let out a yell as he looked back over to where the Mage was standing. He raised his pistol and fired a round into the dark doorway. Jude wasn’t sure that was a good idea. The bullet was more likely to kill the Mage than hurt the Shadow. But then again the Mage was already dead. Jude did think it was a good idea to raise his pistol and shoot the gunman in the side, walking forward, cocking the hammer, and shooting him in the head as he started to turn. He stepped over the body, heading for his partner. As far as he was concerned the men they had killed could lay there and rot till the end of time. They weren’t real people as far as Jude was concerned, but faces of the evil that was polluting his world, without whom the world was a better place.
Chapter Ten
Sebastian Montoya looked much too pale to Jude as he stood by the bed. The Sergeant had been through emergency surgery to close up the entry wound and remove the bullet from his intestines. Jude had told the doctor about his partner’s religious preferences, and magic had been eschewed in his partner’s care. Jude had been about to authorize its use, looking at the young doc who kept glancing at the crystals of magical energy that could be used to infuse life force into the Sergeant, and guarantee that he would live past the next hour.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” said the surgeon, walking into the room and nodding at the internist who was watching the patient. “He has a very rare type. We’re trying to get some from one of the other hospitals, but none may be available.”
“What do you want me to do?” said Jude, looking at his partner’s slack face. The man had helped to save his life, again, by taking down one of the goons even while he was lying on the ground with a grievous wound.
“You could authorize me to use what I have to save his life,” said the doctor, putting his stethoscope in his ears and placing the bell over the patient’s chest. He listened for a few moments, then shook his head as he removed the bell from Montoya and pulled the earpieces out. “His heartbeat is even weaker. I can guarantee you he will be dead within the hour unless we use magical resources.”
“You will do no such thing,” said a woman’s voice with a slight Latina accent.
Jude turned toward the door and saw Sonia Montoya, Sebastian’s wife, storming into the room. She was a short, but still slender woman. He had seen them together when he had gone to their house for dinner, when Laura was still alive. The love they had for each other and their three children had been obvious. He could tell from her eyes that she had been crying, but the determined set of her jaw showed that her opinion would not be brooked, by anyone.
“You will not put that crap in my husband’s body,” she said, walking up to the doctor and staring up into his eyes.
“He will die without it, ma’am,” he said, matching her stare, his voice at the level one would use to convince a child.
“He will not enter into the Good God’s glory with it,” said Sonia, looking down at Montoya with tears streaming down her face.
The doctor shot a glance at Jude, a one of those looks that he probably also used with people with true mental illness. Jude shrugged his shoulders. He wanted his partner to live as well, but had to respect his wishes and the wishes of his wife. He shook his head at the doctor, who nodded and left with a resigned look on his face.
The nurse came in and checked Montoya’s pulse and blood pressure, then looked over at Sonia with sad eyes.
“It won’t be long now,” she said in a quiet voice, shaking her head, then turned and left the room.
Jude could see as much without her opinion. Montoya was pale, his chest barely rising. If only I could have gotten him here sooner. But that had not been possible. He could not contact an ambulance from the dead zone, and had driven his partner here as fast as possible. Probably contributing to the internal bleeding with the bumpy ride. Who knows how far we might have come in medical tech without magic, he thought, feeling the guilt as if it had been his personal decision.
Sonia sat at her husband’s right side, taking his hand in both of hers. She looked at Jude and gave him a nod. He sat in the chair on his left side and took that hand.
“I’m so sorry this happened, Sonia,” he said, looking over at the woman who was holding on fiercely to her husband’s, like she could keep him alive with her clasp. “I wish it had been me instead.”
“He always thought it would be you,” she said, turning her red eyes toward him. “He always said you were the reckless one. He thought you would get killed, and he might go with you. But he also said you were the better cop, and the better shot.”
“There is something to that last part,” he said, looking at his partner’s slack face. “The shot I mean. I still would rather it had been me. I don’t have any children to worry about.”
“Don’t you ever say that,” said the woman in a hiss. “It’s up to the Good God when we go. I don’t want him to die either. But if it’s his time, then it is. Don’t wish yourself away before it’s your time. You know your wife wouldn’t have wanted that for you.”
Jude nodded his head, unable to get the words out that he wanted to say. Would she really have wanted me to stay in this world, he thought.
Montoya took a deep breath, then a series of shallow ones, each with less strength than the last. The breath rattled in his throat, and a slight groan escaped his lips.
“You find the bastards that did this,” she said, reaching one hand across her husband’s body to touch his.
“The men who came after us will never hurt anyone again,” said Jude with a fierce pride. “But their boss is a very powerful man.”
“You get him anyway,” she said, holding down on his hand. “No matter what. You get them. You hear me?”
“I will,” he promised, meaning every word of it. He didn’t know how he would bring Lucius Daemon
down. But he would, if he had to put a bullet in the man’s brain himself.
Montoya took in another ragged breath. His chest fell as the air rattled out of his throat, then didn’t rise again. Jude clasped at his partner’s wrist, feeling the weak pulse that was fading, slowing until it almost wasn’t there. And then it wasn’t.
“He’s gone,” said the Detective in a quavering voice, feeling the tears start in his own eyes.
Sonia broke out into a wail, then settled into a sob as she lay her head on her husband’s still chest. She sobbed while Jude put his hand on her back and gave her a soft rub. She looked up, a fierce grimace on her face as she choked back her sobs.
“Get them, Jude. You hear me? Get them.”
Jude nodded his head and got up. He walked from the room on weak legs, part of him still not believing that Montoya was gone. He pulled his watch from his coat pocket. The watch face indicated that it was just after seven PM.
“What happened?” asked a familiar if not welcome voice. “How did you get your partner killed?”
Jude looked up into the livid face of Major Malcolm Dowdie. A couple of uniformed cops stood behind the Major, and Jude wondered if they were here to arrest him.
“Somebody didn't want us learning something,” said Jude, his voice challenging his superior. “They tried to get the both of us. They succeeded with him.”
“Too bad it wasn't you,” said Dowdie under his breath. He looked back up at Jude, his face softening. “They told me he was still alive when you got him here. The docs couldn't save him?”
“He wouldn't allow them to use magic on him,” said Jude, rubbing his eyes, feeling the fatigue of the day wash over him. “He and his wife thought the use of magic would doom his soul.”
“Damn religious fanatics,” growled Dowdie, looking at the ceiling, then back at Jude. “Damn religious fanatics,” he said again in a low voice. “But still a good man. We will miss him.”
“I know I will,” said Jude, nodding his head. “And what are the two uniforms for? Were you planning to do something?”
Dowdie looked over at the two men, then motioned them to move away. He walked a couple of steps closer to Jude and lowered his voice. “You really pissed Mr. Daemon off today. I don't know what you told him, but he was raging when he called the Commissioner.”
“He didn't like some of my questions,” said Jude, a cold smile creeping onto his face. “I was probing for information, and I guess he didn't like the direction it was going.”
“The Commissioner wants me to suspend your ass,” said Dowdie, looking straight into Jude’s eyes. “I don't like being put in this kind of position, especially since I think you are the best chance we have to solve this case.”
“I didn't know you cared,” said Jude, another smile creeping onto his face.
“Cut the crap, Parkinson,” growled Dowdie. “I think you are a drunk and a slacker. But you have a talent most of us do not. So fuck the Commissioner. Fuck Daemon. Fuck all of them. You stay on the case. For now. But try to keep a low profile, and don't piss off any more powerful assholes.”
Jude nodded, then looked back at the room where his partner had just died.
“The wife still in there?” asked Dowdie, staring at the closed door to the room.
“Yeah, she's still in there,” said Jude. “I'm not sure she wants to talk with anyone right now. Especially someone from the department.”
“I understand,” said Dowdie, glancing over to another door that led to a waiting room. “I'll just wait for a bit, see if she needs anything from the department. Why don't you go home and get some rest.”
Jude nodded and walked away, heading for the elevators and the way down. He started to cry as the doors closed, letting the emotions out. He let the tears flow as the dial over the door counted off the trip down. He wiped his eyes when the dial approached the first floor, stopping the tears and getting his face together to face the world. He looked at his watch again before the door opened. Just a bit after seven fifteen, and he knew a place he needed to be before nine. He needed some things if he was going to go head to head with Daemon Corp, and he preferred that he would have them tonight, before anything else went down.
He was thinking about what he needed to do, ignoring the chaos that was the lobby of the city's largest hospital on any night. He noted a man in black shirt and white priest collar walking through the door. He followed the man's face, hoping that he was here to see Sonia Montoya, and perform whatever strange rituals they did to make the family feel better. He almost ran into Sarah Stranger because of that focus.
“I heard the news,” said the woman, seeming to appear right in front of him. “I'm so sorry.”
“What?” said Jude, looking down at the woman, yet another shock to his system.
“Your partner,” said the woman, motioning to the Priest and waving him on. “I am so sorry. What happened?”
“I,” he said, noticing the third member of the party who was standing there staring at him. He recognized the man, though it took him a moment to place him.
“Oh,” said Sarah, looking to the side. “This is Richard Guffy. He has recently joined the Church and is helping out.”
“The Lieutenant knows me,” said Guffy, continuing to glare at the Detective. “I'll go on and help the padre. I'm sure that Mr. Parkinson doesn't need me to listen in on his conversation with you.” The man stormed away, his body rigid with anger.
“What was that all about?” asked Sarah, staring after the man as he walked to the elevators and the Priest who was waiting for one to arrive.
“We had a run in in another life,” said Jude, looking away from the man and back down at the woman. “I'll tell you about it someday. But not tonight.”
“Of course not,” said Sarah, nodding as she reached for and touched Jude on the arm. “I know you have been through so much tonight.” She looked toward the elevator where the door was just opening for her companions. “Look, I've got to go. Call me later, or drop by my apartment.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Jude. “We'll talk.”
And then she was off and running for the elevator, waving at the Priest and the man who looked like he wanted to kill Jude. Jude shook his head and looked down at the piece of paper. He felt a rush run through his body as he saw what was on it. An address. Her address. He revised his plans for the evening, hoping she would be there when he was done with his errand.
A wide smile stretching his face Jude walked away, hoping he could get to the person he needed to see if he were going to protect himself. At least something went right tonight, he thought as he walked out into the brightly lit night, thinking over what Sarah had said there at the end.
Chapter Eleven
Gloria Knight felt awful. She felt like she was completely drained of energy, as much as she had ever been. It couldn't be any kind of contagion. She had been screened and protected by her employer, Daemon Corp, from any known natural and magical contagion. Still, she had been feeling drained all day. This just sucks, she thought, parking her car and heading for the entrance of her brownstone.
And then there had been the feeling of impending doom she had felt throughout her shift, processing the new energy sources. They had seemed harmless enough. She got a bad feeling when the wisps of red energy rose through the conduits with the strong blue. It was a minor enough contaminate, and nothing the filters couldn't handle. But there was something about it that rang bells in her head, and contributed to the overall feeling and dread that had followed her of late.
It's nothing, she thought. She reached for the handle of her door and it clicked open. It's these deaths. I didn't know either of them well, but I did know them. I don’t know who in the hell would want to do that to me. So who in the hell would want to do that to them?
Gloria heard movement from behind, and turned her head with a quick motion, her throat constricting. She let out her breath as she saw that it was just a homeless man, shuffling down the stree
t. She felt a bit of guilt that she had such a nice, safe place to live, when so many didn't. I pay a great price for my living standard, she thought, dismissing the guilt.
Jacob greeted her at the door as she entered her luxury apartment. The small fluff ball of a dog was her world, and she reached down to let him jump into her arms, lavishing his affection on her face with his wet tongue. She ruffled the dog’s coat with her hand, paying particular attention to his head and neck, the areas he most loved to have petted.
“I missed you too,” she said as she hugged the small dog close to her. She knew some of her friends and coworkers thought it sad that a dog was the only one she had to show affection to her, or for her to show affection. She knew that the time to have a family was passing her by. She was almost forty, and she had heard all the threats and warnings about having a baby at too late an age. She had chosen career instead of family, and still thought it a good decision. She wasn’t sure she wanted to bring children into this current world.
Besides, she thought as she put the dog on the floor and walked to the kitchen, the small furry bundle chasing after her, excited at the prospect of a meal. I’m about to be promoted at the company. That and getting her Master Mage’s certificate from the courses she had been taking at the local college. Courses the company had been paying for.
Gloria opened a can of dog food and spooned it into a dish, placing it on the floor where Jacob could attack it. The dog went after the food with relish, and Gloria smiled down on the love of her life for a moment, before getting a jug of wine from the refrigerator and pouring herself a big glass. She flipped on the radio on the way to the couch, and the mellow sounds of a big band drifted through the spacious apartment.
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