"I might be meeting some friends . . ." she told Newt in a low voice.
"No problem," he said. "Just have 'em tell me you're expecting them."
Kellan nodded, doing her best to keep the swelling pride she felt from showing too much. She remembered when she couldn't get a bouncer at the Inferno or Underworld 93 to give her the time of day. Now her name was opening doors for other people. She really felt like somebody, like she was putting past mistakes behind her.
She caught up with Midnight in the foyer of the club, decorated in lush wine-dark velvet and gold, just as she hit the steps leading up to the main entrance. Reddish light pulsed from within, and the flaming letters over the doorway warned all who entered to abandon hope. Kellan found it ironic tonight, since she felt more hopeful than she had in a while.
Beyond the main entrance, Dante's Inferno was laid out as a showplace and spectacle for the in-crowd of Seattle. The central area was a giant cylinder, seven stories tall, with spiral ramps and floors made of transparex, so you could look up or down through them to see the whole of the club. Down the hollow core burned a column of holographic fire, where images of nude figures writhed—in pleasure or torment, it was difficult to tell. Surrounding the transparent dance floors were bars and seating for patrons to drink and people-watch.
There was plenty to watch, as usual. Dante's attracted a young crowd with money to burn. Corporate sararimen looking to ditch suits and ties and blow off some steam mixed with elves in the latest designer fashions; club-kids decked out in synthleather, body latex and holocloth; and exotic changelings, or maybe just humans with cosmetic modifications. Kellan spotted several unusual shades of hair and skin color, scales and horns, along with at least one dancer with a swaying furry tail.
Midnight led them up the ramps to the second level, which was decorated predominately in gold, with Roman-style statues set in alcoves in the walls, some of them bearing coffers and jars overflowing with golden coins that seemed to spill out endlessly—a clever holographic projection. This level was devoted to Greed, just as the first level of the Inferno was dedicated to Envy (for those waiting to get into the club surely envied those already inside). Each of the other levels reflected another of the seven deadly sins in an orgy of overindulgence.
They ordered drinks at the bar. When those arrived, Midnight lifted her glass and favored Kellan with a smile.
"Here's to a good night's work," she said. They clinked glasses, and Kellan relished her Forbidden Apple martini (one of Dante's specialties). Midnight took a sip of her own drink, then held up a hand to speak as she swallowed.
"Mmmm, speaking of which," she said. "We should make sure business is taken care of. Is the data all set?"
Kellan opened her cyberdeck's carrying case and popped the optical chip out of the deck's drive, holding it out to Midnight.
"Right here."
"Good," she said, plucking the chip from Kellan's fingers and turning it over in her own. She slipped it into one of the pockets of her jacket, producing a credstick in return. Kellan took out her own credstick and touched it to Midnight's. The sticks swapped bits, and funds were transferred into Kellan's account.
"Now I can buy the next round," Kellan said.
"Sorry," Midnight replied, taking another sip of her drink. "But I can't stay. We still have to conclude the deal."
Kellan looked crestfallen. She'd been looking forward to celebrating their good fortune. "I'll come with you," she said, but Midnight shook her head.
"Sorry, but this is a one-on-one meeting. It's what the Johnson wants. Maybe next time. You have fun and I'll let you know when everything is squared away. Maybe I can swing back afterward."
"Null sheen," Kellan replied. Midnight finished her drink and stood to leave. As she stood, she leaned in to Kellan, resting a hand on her arm.
"You did a good job tonight," she said.
"Thanks," Kellan smiled. "You, too."
After Midnight left, Kellan thought briefly about calling it a night, but then reached for her phone. Frag that, she thought. 1 don't get to celebrate a big payout that often. She started calling around to see if some of her friends were available; after all, there was no point in having clout at a place like Dante's if you didn't use it.
Liada and Silver Max weren't around, but Kellan did get hold of Tamlin and invited him to meet her at the club.
"Hey, Tam, I've got another call, I'll see ya soon," she said as the call waiting on her phone beeped. She glanced at the ID on the screen before answering.
"G-Dogg," she said. "I was just about to call you."
"Kellan, where you at?" he asked.
"Dante's, you wanna come by for a drink? I'm buying. ..."
"Hey, sounds good, and I've got some news."
"What's up?"
"Tell you when I get there. Later."
Kellan pressed the end button on her phone, wondering about G-Dogg's news.
Orion showed up at the club first, dressed for a night out, and Kellan's face lit up when she spied him down on the first floor of the club heading for the ramp.
Tamlin O'Ryan was an elf, like Midnight, and carried himself with a similar catlike grace. But where Midnight was a panther, disappearing into the shadows,
Tamlin was a lion, fierce and proud. He'd been a member of the Ancients, the biggest elven gang in Seattle, until Kellan discovered someone was using his gang as pawns, setting them up for a fall. She'd managed to convince Orion of the facts, but he couldn't convince the gang's leader, and got kicked out for his trouble. Even though Kellan was eventually proven right, Orion was through with the Ancients. He still carried himself like a street warrior, though, always ready for a fight.
He wore the same leather jacket he'd always worn, the Ancients emblem long ago removed from the back, but the ballistic cloth lining as serviceable as ever. Part of his dark hair was pulled back in a high tail like a samurai, the rest allowed to fall free to his shoulders, partly covering his pointed ears. Black jeans covered the tops of heavy motorcycle boots. The only real color was his forest green shirt, decorated with Celtic knot-work around the square collar.
"Hey, Kel," he said when he reached the bar. "What's going on?"
Kellan patted the stool next to her. "Pull up a seat and have a drink," she said. "Business was good tonight."
"Yeah?" he inquired as he sat down. "How good?"
"Good enough that I'm buying."
Orion grinned. "That's all I need to know."
As good as his word, Orion didn't ask Kellan about the details of the job she'd just pulled. It was better not to ask your friends questions they might not be able to answer.
"Glad biz is good for you at least," he said after the bartender took his order.
"Hey, things will pick up for you, too," she said, and Orion shrugged.
"Hope so. Too bad your job didn't need any more muscle along."
"You know . . ."
"Yeah, I do," he said. He knew if Kellan could have included him in the job, she would have. "I didn't mean anything by it."
"Null sheen."
"There's G-Dogg," Orion said with a nod, glancing down through the dance floor.
"Wizard. I called him, too."
G-Dogg was Orion's opposite in many ways. He was an ork, one of the metahuman races not blessed with grace or beauty. Instead, G-Dogg was more than two meters of muscle packed into a tee-shirt that stretched across his broad chest and over his bulging arms. The blue-gray shirt bore the logo of the Big Rhino, an ork restaurant downtown, and G-Dogg wore a black leather vest over it, along with a Native-style bone-and-rawhide collar. Black jeans, combat boots and leather wristbands completed the outfit.
If it were just his size and clothes, G-Dogg might be mistaken for a human biker who'd gotten muscle replacement surgery, but you only had to look at his face to see he wasn't human at all. He had the sloped forehead, beetled brow and pointed ears common to orks. His long black hair was a mass of dreadlocks, decorated with bits of metal and pulled back
into a bunch at the nape of his neck. Metal gleamed from his ears as well. Small, yellowed tusks jutted up over his upper lip, giving him an underbite and a jutting jaw. Still, the dark eyes didn't miss a thing, and G-Dogg held that chin up with pride and attitude, as if he were the most glamorous simstar. He walked like he owned the place, and people treated him accordingly.
G-Dogg received waves, nods and shouted greetings from people as he passed. He spotted Kellan and Orion at the bar as soon as he hit the second floor, and headed right for them, nodding and acknowledging his other friends and acquaintances briefly. Though he seemed as friendly as always, Kellan didn't think he seemed in his usual high spirits, and she frowned in concern.
"Heya, Kel," the ork rumbled in his deep bass voice when he finally got over to them. "How's things?"
"Just celebratin' a job well done."
G-Dogg nodded. "Good for you. Let me give ya the news, then we'll get down to it." His eyes shifted to Orion for a moment.
"It's frosty," Kellan said, and G-Dogg shrugged slightly, as if saying it was Kellan's business whom she trusted.
"I got word there's somebody looking for you," he said.
"Who's that?"
"Guy named Toshi Akimura. He's been asking around real quietly, but the word came to me, just like it always does."
Kellan felt like G-Dogg had just reached into her chest and squeezed her heart. "What?" she said dumbly, unable to comprehend for a moment.
"Akimura," G-Dogg repeated slowly. "He's this big-time fixer, been round fer a while now."
"Akimura?" Kellan repeated, more to herself than anyone else. "That can't be."
"You know him?" G-Dogg asked.
"Do you?" Kellan countered. He shrugged.
"I've heard of him. Like I was sayin', Akimura is a big-time fixer—least he was a few years ago. Haven't heard much about him lately. He operated out of New Orleans for years, but I heard he has some old connections in Seattle."
Kellan swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "Must be why I've never heard of him," she said as casually as she could. "Did you hear anything about why he's looking?"
G-Dogg shook his head. "Nope, just that he's look-in' to talk."
"Did you . . ." Kellan began, her palms starting to sweat.
"Tell him anything?" G-Dogg asked. "C'mon, Kel. You know me better than that."
"Right, right, natch," she replied, wiping her palms surreptitiously on her jeans.
G-Dogg wasn't the type to give away information, especially on his friends. When Kellan first met him, she had been looking for him because she heard G-Dogg knew people in the shadows. He hadn't even admitted to knowing himself at first, since he didn't know who Kellan was. She had no reason to think he'd be any freer with information about her—at least not unless there was serious cred involved, and if that was the case, she didn't think G-Dogg would be at the Inferno telling her about it.
"Maybe he's looking to hire," Orion suggested helpfully. G-Dogg shrugged and cocked his head in a noncommittal gesture.
"Could be," he said. "Only way to find out is to talk to him. If he is hiring, it's probably pretty hot biz." He didn't indicate whether or not he thought Kellan could handle that.
"You know what he's doing in Seattle?" the elf asked, and G-Dogg shook his head again.
"Nope. Hadn't heard he was here until tonight."
Undergoing treatment at a top clinic, Kellan thought to herself. Akimura asking around for her couldn't be a coincidence, but how could he possibly know about the run on Nightengale's so quickly, and how could he know she was involved? Did someone spot them and see through her spell somehow? Did he know about Midnight, too? Could she have told him, sold Kellan out somehow? Why?
"Hey, Kellan."
G-Dogg's voice brought Kellan's glance up to meet the ork's, interrupting her out-of-control train of thought.
"What?"
"I said, do you want me to pass on a message to Akimura? Maybe put out some feelers and find out if he's hiring or something?"
"Yeah . . ." she said. "Yeah, sure, sounds like a good idea. Like you said, it's probably pretty big-time, right?"
He nodded. "Let me make some calls—"
"Hey, doesn't have to be right now. I invited you guys over for some fun. I just finished a job—I don't have to start looking for another one tonight."
"Never rains but it pours," Orion observed wryly. G-Dogg regarded Kellan with an unreadable look for a moment before breaking into a wide grin.
"Hey, I'm always willing to help lighten yer credstick, kid," he said. "Let's get a new round. I've got some catching up to do!"
They got a table, and Kellan bought another round of drinks. As soon as they arrived, she excused herself to go to the bathroom. Once she was out of sight in the shadowy hall leading to the restrooms, she immediately took out her phone and dialed Midnight's number.
"Please leave a voice message at the tone," said a pleasant synthesized female voice. Fraggit, Midnight wasn't answering for some reason. Probably at the meeting with the Johnson.
"Hey, it's me," Kellan said curtly. "Hit me back." She hit the end button and jammed the phone back in her pocket. There was no way of knowing why Midnight wasn't answering. She could be handling a delicate meeting, off celebrating on her own, or just sleeping, for all Kellan knew. Or she could be in trouble. Kellan could do nothing but wait until Midnight contacted her.
Kellan went into the restroom and splashed some water on her face, taking a second to compose herself. G-Dogg was right about one thing: there was no way of knowing what Akimura wanted without talking to him. There was no point in panicking. She would wait until she heard from Midnight, and tell her what was going on; then they would decide what to do about it. Until then, Kellan was going to enjoy herself. Live for tonight, she told herself in the mirror. That's what she resolved to do.
Though she enjoyed Orion and G-Dogg's company, and even managed to dance like she meant it, G-Dogg's news nagged at Kellan, and the more time that passed without her hearing anything from Midnight, the more concerned she became, until she finally begged off the rest of the night a couple hours before the Inferno closed, proclaiming herself exhausted and in need of a few hours' sleep. Orion and G-Dogg offered to escort her home, but settled for getting her to her ride, once Kellan assured them she was more than sober enough to get to her doss on her own. She'd been pacing her drinking—easy, given her mood.
Orion picked up his katana from the weapons check, and as they left the club, they discovered the rain had stopped. The line of clubbers outside had thinned, but not disappeared entirely. It was more like the party inside had spilled out onto the sidewalk, with knots of people talking, laughing, dancing and drinking out of flasks and cheap plastic bottles. Music blared from cars parked with the windows rolled down or doors open, and even from the miniature speakers built into some people's jackets and clothes.
Newt gave them a wave as they headed out, and G-Dogg clapped the big troll on the arm. Kellan headed toward the bike rack, where Orion's ride would be parked as well. Weaving through the people on the sidewalk, Kellan heard someone yelling, but she didn't pay any attention until the voice said, "Hey, girly—you with the ork and the elf!"
She turned to look behind her as she walked into the alley, and the voice yelled, "Hey! Hey, I got a message for you!"
Kellan could see a dark figure momentarily silhouetted in the lights from the street. Then light flared red-orange in his hand, illuminating a ruddy face painted with upside-down black triangles over his eyes and a jagged black line across his mouth. She had a fleeting thought that he looked like a pumpkin carved for Halloween.
"Akimura says, 'See you in hell!' "
Then he drew his arm back and hurled a flaming bottle in a fiery arc.
"Look out!" Orion shouted, slamming into Kellan and pushing them both against the near wall just as the Molotov cocktail crashed to the ground where they had been standing, spreading ghostly blue alcohol flames edged in yellow.
G-Dogg
cursed and slapped at where drops of burning liquid had splashed his arm and vest. That's when Kellan saw that the bottle-thrower had friends backing him up. Friends with faces made up like jack-o'-lanterns, wielding knives and clubs and, in one case, a burning torch. They charged.
Orion moved to meet them, ducking under a swinging club to punch its wielder in the solar plexus. The man doubled over, dropping his weapon. The elf followed through by bringing his knee up into the man's chin, snapping his head back and sending him sprawling. As he turned, Orion whipped the long carrying case off his back and into his hand.
G-Dogg stepped between the gang and Kellan, catching one knife-wielder's wrist in his massive hand. He twisted hard and the man—little more than a punk kid—yelled in pain before the ork punched him hard in the face, sending him tumbling back into one of his friends.
By this point, onlookers were rushing to the mouth of the alley and cheering for one side or the other. A woman with her head shaved and painted in red and black snarled and came at Kellan with a bowie knife. There was a loud crack as Orion hit the woman in the back of the head with the end of his sword's carrying case, sending her stumbling to the side.
Kellan seized the opening. Hunkering down next to a puddle collected in a depression along the side of the alley, she held out a hand and whispered the words of the binding ritual she had so recently performed, reaching out to and through the water, out into the depths of the astral plane, where her call was heard and answered.
The puddle suddenly roiled like a boiling pot, and a swirling column of water rose, the rainwater collected in the alley drawn to it like a magnet. Streamers of water split off from its sides, stretching out to form arms, and a mass of white foam capped its head like a crown. The spectacle of the manifesting water elemental brought the brawl to a sudden halt.
"Mage!" one of the gang called out, and several of them dropped their makeshift weapons as they turned and ran for the end of the alley. The spectators parted to let them through, and even moved back a couple of steps from the looming shape swaying near Kellan. Even in the Sixth World, it wasn't every day they saw a mage call up an elemental in an alley. G-Dogg grabbed Orion's arm to keep the elf from going after the fleeing gang members.
Shadowrun 43 - Fallen Angels Page 5
