by Mark Henwick
“Even if we hadn’t had the business yesterday with that girl, Tullah has been demanding that we have a talk with you and explain ourselves. She wants to do that especially because she would like to work with you after college.”
Mary had my attention, but I spared a smile for Tullah. I’d never known her to be so quiet. She gave me a small smile back.
If Mary had told me Tullah was keeping an eye on me a few months ago, I would have blown a fuse. Several fuses. At both of them. But that was before I’d had to admit to spying on my friend David, before I learned, from Jen, that I can tolerate friends needing to find out things about me. And given what I’d been through over the last week, not much was going to surprise me anymore. As it was, I just kept smiling and waited for the explanation.
Mary’s face was seldom expressive, but maybe the skin tightened at the corners of her eyes. Her hand reached out and touched my bracelet. I was surprised to see the clasp must have been open and she caught it as it fell. She held the bracelet up and rolled the beads through her fingers thoughtfully. I remembered joking to Tullah about not knowing if the wolf’s eye was watching me or watching out for me. Maybe that was closer to the truth than I’d thought.
“This is well tuned to you now,” said Mary. She handed it back to me. “If you continue to wear it, you’ll notice the tingle less and less consciously. It’ll become like a sixth sense for you. It can’t warn you if you’re about to have an accident, but it will help where someone close by is intending to harm you.”
I put it back on. “You do real magic then. What do I call you—witches, brujas?” I asked.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” said Mary, and this time she did smile. “We don’t use those words, but they’ll do.”
The waitress brought my pasta and I started to eat. Explanations didn’t seem to be forthcoming on their own. “Why do you think I need watching?” I prompted.
Mary frowned.
“I’ll start from the beginning.” Her hands fiddled and I realized she was a smoker, missing her cigarette.
“What you’ve just called magic starts with an energy, something that can be used any way at all. Everyone accesses it at some level. Some people can tap into it and turn that energy into power that can make things happen. The use of that skill leaves a mark on a person that another user can see.” She paused. “You have that mark.”
I opened my mouth to tell her I had no idea what she was talking about, but she went right on.
“There are three types of user: learned, guided and instinctive. Learned covers the folk who use mumbo-jumbo incantations, but also the Athanate skills that they could teach you. Guided means you have a spirit guide who will enable your skill. That’s what we use. Instinctive is a limited use that just comes naturally. That’s what the Weres use.”
I had so many questions they jammed in my throat.
“You,” said Mary, waving a finger at me, “have a spirit guide.”
“It’s a wolf,” said Tullah, then subsided again at a look from Mary.
“Oh,” I said, at my conversational best.
“If that were all, I’d have spoken to you long ago,” said Mary. “But users can also see workings, things that are in progress that were started by others. Becoming a Were or an Athanate is a working, and I can see that in you too. The spirit guide and the Athanate are in conflict inside you. Again, if that were all…” she waved a hand dismissively. I didn’t want it dismissed. If my wolf was capable of controlling my Athanate side, I wanted to help him. Her. Whatever. But Mary didn’t stop.
“Other workings include things that may lie dormant, or even skip generations before they actually do something. They may be for good or evil, blessing or curse. They require a tremendous effort to set up. They are important, so important they feed on life itself. I’ve seen very few of them.”
Mary finally turned to look at me directly. “I can see one in you. You came here wondering what we are. My question is just the same. Amber, what the hell are you?”
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
An hour later, the waitress took my cold pasta away and brought me coffee. I was tempted to ask for a double shot of rum in it. We hadn’t gotten any closer to what the hell Mary thought I was, if not plain old me with a sprinkle of Athanate and spirit guide.
Mary said that she thought the Athanate part of me was winning the struggle against the spirit guide, and she didn’t know of a way to help. She’d never seen this situation before. She didn’t think Athanate were inherently evil, but that the power they wielded and the span they lived meant that most ended up being evil in her eyes. An Adept, as she called herself, lived a normal human lifespan, by choice. Adepts were valued by the Athanate, and Athanate could extend the Adept’s life, as they did with kin. The result of that was that most true Adepts avoided contact with Athanate. This was going to be a problem if I became Athanate, because she wanted to keep watching me.
Mary’s spirit guide was a bear, and I was treated to a disorienting, private vision of a phantom grizzly looming behind her at the table. I tried looking at Tullah, but only got a dim sense of something moving in darkness.
“Tullah’s unusual, in that her guide has not made itself known yet,” said Mary. “She has some skill, but I’ve prevented her from using it so far.”
I got a sense that wasn’t the full story at all. While Mary was talking, I was watching Tullah’s expression, and I was sure that she knew exactly what her spirit guide was. Interesting.
“I’ve raised that ban,” said Mary, “in light of what’s happening and her desire to work with you. Maybe that’s what’s needed to make the guide reveal itself.”
“Hold on a second,” I said. “You’re not talking about the job she’s been doing.”
“Amber, I want to help,” said Tullah. “Not just looking after the office. I want to help with investigations.”
“You’re nineteen, Tullah. No offense, you’re great at what you do, but you’re a college kid.”
Mary leaned across and put a hand over mine. “Yes, she’s nineteen. What were you doing when you were nineteen, Amber?”
A little shock of recall went through me. My nineteenth birthday, April 16, slipping out of the village. What was it called? Lung La. I never thought I would be cold in Vietnam, but I was shivering in the misty pre-dawn as we walked into the gloomy jungle, a dozen of us from Ops 4-10, another dozen from the Vietnamese special forces, a joint operation out of sight of the world, headed for the border—
“Stop!”
I blinked. Mary was gripping my hand and Tullah was looking at me with concern. I realized I must have been talking aloud.
“That was my fault,” said Mary. “I intended that just as a question, not as an instruction. I leaked a bit of persuasion when I touched you. It’s as if the energy is easier to reach here.”
She looked around at the bustling little café and took a deep breath. “I’m just going to walk around the block,” she said and got up. She lit up outside the window and moved off.
I sat shaken by the experience. It seemed this was my day for shocks. It told me a lot that the people who were supposed to be on my side were scaring me more than any enemies.
“Did that operation in Vietnam succeed?” asked Tullah.
It had succeeded, as you judge these things. Not for Joe. Handsome Joe from Nevada, with the pretty eyes and the quiet smile. I remembered the weight of his body across my shoulders, his blood mixing with my sweat as we headed back. No 4-10 bodies were left behind, ever. I carried my share. Later, as we waited for our extraction near Lung La, our Vietnamese colleagues put rice and a coin in Joe’s mouth to show their respect for our dead and lined up solemnly to shake everyone’s hand. A first, hidden step in rebuilding.
“Yeah,” I said aloud. “That one worked.” I tried to shake off the memories.
“I am my parents’ daughter—I can take care of myself and I do have skills,” Tullah was saying. “You’re still the boss, and I promise I’ll
do what you say. And my courses in criminal law will be useful.”
I stopped staring into the past and looked at her again. She was smart and bright and all sorts of things. She wasn’t me. But maybe comparing her to me wasn’t the way to look at it. And that legal knowledge would be an asset.
“We’ll take things a step at a time,” I said. “We’re temporarily relocating to a study in Jennifer Kingslund’s house down near the Country Club. That way, we get some measure of protection from the guards she’s got at the moment. It would be too easy to hit us at the office, and there are too many people trying. Victor’s guards have your ID and they’ll let you in.”
I drained my coffee while Tullah did a little jig of celebration on her chair.
“So tell me before she gets back, Tullah, what your spirit guide is, and why you don’t want to tell your mother.”
Tullah’s eyes went wide and she looked across guiltily at the door. That was lucky enough, as Mary was coming back in.
“Can’t tell you now,” she whispered. “Not on the ‘approved’ list.” She made quote signs with her fingers.
“These spirit guides, Mary,” I said to distract her as she sat down again, “are they real or just something in our heads?”
“I don’t know. Ask me another.”
“What else is out there? Elves and demons?”
Mary shook her head. “You could create an image of anything you could imagine from the energy, but something that complex just falls apart when you stop working at it. I’ve never heard of real elves or demons, or any place they could come from.”
She looked sideways at Tullah, and smiled. “I can see my daughter has had good news. I’m a mother, and I would say it of course, but I believe you’ve made the right decision. You say you’re fighting against becoming Athanate, and we’ll help if we can. But I warn you, if you become fully Athanate, Tullah will have to leave.”
Tullah’s mouth compressed into a thin line at that.
“How can I tell when the Athanate side of me starts winning?” I asked, just to see what she would say.
Mary raised her eyebrows. “The Athanate should tell you in more detail. But from what I know, the urges, what they call the imperatives, start changing your behavior. New Athanate need to be desirable, noticeable. They need to attract humans to become blood servants. At the same time, they become more secretive.” She looked me over.
“So if I start spending a lot of time on my appearance, that’s a bad sign?”
“It’s not just that,” said Mary. “It’s the reveling in it. Watch them and you’ll see. It’s almost funny seeing them in constant conflict with themselves. The half of them that wants to attract and the half that wants to remain unnoticed. Also, it’ll be more obvious at night.”
“Why? Is magic stronger at night?”
“No. It’s just the way people are. Everyone has some kind of connection to the energy, even if it’s just in the hindbrain. In daytime, this works against a single user. A million people in the broad daylight who believe you can’t change into a wolf would make it difficult for a Were in the middle of Denver. But at night, out in the woods, those certainties are weaker.” She smiled.
“So my bracelet works better at night?”
“Not quite that simple. Tullah can talk to you about it sometime.” She got up. “We must go. But one last thing, Amber. Adepts can sense users around them. How to explain it?” She paused and made an expansive gesture with her arms. “Imagine the energy is like a huge trampoline. Every user makes a little dent in the trampoline. When they move, you can feel them through the trampoline. Most users are small, so you barely notice it. But if a powerful user taps the energy, it’s like someone really heavy walking on the trampoline.”
I nodded.
“Well, there are usually a couple of very powerful users in Denver. I’ve always attributed that to whoever runs that Athanate House. But this week there are a hell of a lot more.” She stared at me before finishing quietly. “Be careful. And don’t give up hope.”
I gave them hugs and we went our separate ways.
Chapter 38
I went over to Lisa Macy’s and tried on a dress that was so far outside of my experience, it was unreal. It was a dark green dream of silk. I loved it. Werner came over with a pair of shoes to fit, elegant but with a strong heel. He knew I didn’t do stilettos, and these I could dance in. I felt like Cinderella as I tried everything on and turned in front of the mirror. I had to get some photos from the ball for mom. She would never believe it otherwise.
Lisa hissed and tutted over a couple of details I couldn’t even see, but assured me that everything would be fine. Werner insisted I come much earlier than necessary on Friday.
Jen was still at work when I got back to the house, so I sat down in the study-office and opened the mail.
The first was a letter from the Veterans’ Administration. I wanted to bang my head on the desk, but it looked expensive to repair.
Dear Ms. Farrell and whereas no charges have been brought and they would not venture an opinion, I would of course understand their position that payments had to be suspended until the conclusion of the investigation. I tossed it aside.
The second was from Krantz. It said simply that my payments were no longer a matter for investigation, but that I would need to re-apply directly to the VA to claim them again.
I sat and worked through some appropriate names for him, gathered from a variety of places during my days in Ops 4-10. Then I started to laugh. I didn’t want the money. The stupid bastard thought he had won some important point, but all he’d proved was that he didn’t understand the situation at all.
I was still laughing when Jen walked in. “Nice to hear, honey.” She bent down and kissed my cheek in greeting. “And nice to see you back before midnight.”
She settled in the other seat and told me that her meeting with Verdoon had had to be moved up and they’d met earlier today. Matt Bierbach had made complete digital images of his computer drives during the meeting, and was sorting out the contents to pass to me.
“I’m sure he’ll finish quickly,” she said, with a sly smile. “Something about a hot date tonight.”
“No! Not Tullah? They only met yesterday.”
“Honestly, I don’t know honey, but that’s where my bets are. They don’t waste time these days.”
Carmen called us in for dinner. Only half a plate of pasta at lunch, and having the daylights scared out of me a couple of times had made me hungry. That was a good thing, because Carmen had clearly decided we were too skinny and we had what looked like half a lamb between us, cooked Mediterranean style. Wondering whether I would need my new dress taken out an inch made me remember the charity ball.
“Oh, I forgot to say yesterday. A client has paid for me to attend the McIntire-Harriman ball on Friday. You’re still going?”
I could see Jen’s curiosity about the client, but she restrained herself. “Hell, I’m on the organizing committee, honey, so I have to be there from mid-afternoon,” she said. “You wouldn’t believe the hassle this international delegation have caused. I’ll fix the table seating for you, otherwise you’ll be stuck in a corner.”
I made a mental note to make sure Victor’s guards were able to access all areas in the afternoon. The actual ball itself would be safe with the number of convention center security staff on duty, and our guards could come back to pick us up at the end.
We finished the meal with Jen telling me some stories of the way some of the international delegation were behaving, which had us both chuckling. I hoped it wasn’t one of them who would have the message for me.
She poured herself a glass of brandy. I turned down a rum after the wine we’d had with dinner.
She had reports to read, but before she left me, she turned to ask: “On your desk, there’s a plaque. Who’s Tara?”
My stomach tightened, as it did whenever people asked. “My twin sister. She was stillborn.”
Jen stood in t
he doorway a moment more. “You see her in the reflection.”
“Yes.” No one had ever figured that out before.
“I’m sorry,” Jen said quietly, and went.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
It was dark in the gym. I didn’t need the lights any more.
The test machine had read 0.49 this evening.
I worked through Master Liu’s forms, and my body was quicker and stronger than it had ever been. Instead of effort, there came a sensation of floating. Up above, in the daylight, I struggled against the thought that I was becoming Athanate. Down here, in the dark, the physical sensations overwhelmed the doubts.
Both Diana and Mary had said that there weren’t any monsters I didn’t bring to the party. I took some comfort there, as I did from knowing more about what was happening to me.
But I was still changing.
The nightmares had stopped. Or I had changed my definition of the nightmare. Last month, drinking someone’s blood was a nightmare. Now blood and sex tangled together in misty dreams that shocked me with their erotic thrill.
I half believed I was sleepwalking, but I hadn’t seen any evidence I’d bitten anyone. Yet.
WEDNESDAY
Chapter 39
Morales had taken us up to his office, collecting coffees on the way from a machine. The coffee tasted as bad as it always had, throughout the building. It was strange visiting this level of HQ. Up here, in Morales’ office, we were at the front between the political and policing faces of the Denver PD. The total count for Denver was less than 1,500 officers, and here was where they did the balancing act to work out where their effort was best focused. Remembering that, I resolved to be kinder to Morales today.
When we were seated, Morales opened with a gesture to the colonel. “Thanks for agreeing to come here. Before we get to the main event, I’d like to start with an issue that has a bearing.”
I realized he and the colonel hadn’t worked out their pecking order. I hid a smile. The colonel didn’t really care, but Morales was a good politician as well as a good police officer. He didn’t want to ruin a working relationship, but he wanted to run the meeting.
