Wanderers 3: Garden of The Gods (The Wanderers)

by Richard Bamberg

  The door shattered with a loud crash as the bartender flew through it, across the room, and bounced off the opposite wall, head first.

  Standing in the doorway was Raphael A. Semmes, my mentor.

  “You’re late,” I growled as I stood up and swayed.

  Rafe’s hands came down on my shoulders and held me steady.

  “Are you all right, Tess?” he asked.

  “I’ll recover. Sonsofbitches roofied me. The fucking bartender doped my beer.”

  I looked to where the bartender had fallen. He was holding his head while trying to get to his feet. I raised the Colt and pulled the trigger. A bottle of whiskey on the desk beside him shattered. Fuck! I’d missed. My mind was nearly clear of any effects of the roofie, but my muscles were still shaky. I shifted to a two-handed grip and lined the sights up.

  Rafe closed his hand over mine and pushed the barrel down.

  “No need for that. I’ll take it from here. You might want to get dressed.”

  I frowned at him. I wanted these bastards dead, not in some jail. Rafe gave me his, “I’m the boss,” look, and I stepped away from him, looking for my leathers.

  There were other voices outside the office door. Rafe stepped to the doorway and put up a hand to stop the interlopers. A moment later, there came the sound of bodies collapsing to the floor.

  I set the Colt on the edge of the bed and got my feet in my leathers. I pulled my pants up, fastened them, and then felt for my bra’s clasp. They’d torn it off the material. I took off my jacket and blouse, so I could get the remnants of my bra off and then dropped it to the floor.

  “Tess, drop your shield,” Rafe said.

  “What?” I asked, looking at him.

  He nodded toward the bed.

  The older biker had apparently passed out and was lying limp on the covers.

  “As you wish,” I snarled and canceled the tat’s energy.

  The man’s head dropped a couple of inches to the mattress. He might have still been breathing.

  I fastened my blouse back on and shrugged into my jacket before gathering my socks and boots.

  When I was fully dressed, I picked the Colt back up and looked at the three men who had tried to rape me. How many times had they done this to other women? How many times would they do it again?

  “I’m not letting them get away with this,” I said to Rafe.

  He turned, studied my face for a few moments, and then nodded. “Certainly not, but we don’t want to leave bodies for the police either. Get your bra; we don’t want to leave anything of ours behind.”

  I picked it up and shoved it in the pocket with my panties.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  Rafe raised a hand toward the back wall and triggered a tat. A blast of energy blew out the cement block wall.

  Dust swirled around the opening. It blew all around us on the night breeze.

  Rafe picked up each one of my attackers and threw them bodily through the opening into the alley behind the bar. The older man was starting to wake up. I guess he hadn’t suffocated after all. Too bad. The bartender was begging for his life, and the younger biker was sobbing while clutching at the wound in his shoulder.

  Rafe and I followed them through the hole in the wall. Outside, I could hear several motorcycles racing away from the bar and in the distance came the sound of sirens.

  “Beast, come here,” Rafe called loudly.

  A few seconds passed and then Beast, in Harley form, roared around the edge of the building. He stopped beside Rafe.

  All three rapist were staring at the Harley.

  “Beast, morph, please. I need you to open a portal for me,” Rafe said.

  A few seconds passed as Beast shifted forms from a 1965 Harley-Davidson Electra-glide to eight-hundred pound manticore.

  The bartender screamed, and the two bikers started scrambling away from the massive beast.

  “Where to?” Beast growled.

  “How about to your home? You said your wife had a taste for human flesh, right?” Rafe said.

  “You want to encourage her rude behavior?” Beast asked.

  Rafe shrugged. “She doesn’t have to eat them. You don’t even have to put them anywhere near her, just to your world.”

  “They won’t last an hour,” Beast growled.

  Rafe shrugged. “That’s up to them.”

  Beast turned toward the three men and spoke a spell in his own language. A shimmering portal opened in the alley behind them.

  “Excellent,” Rafe said. “Now, if any of you survive, perhaps you will learn a lesson about attacking women who appear helpless.”

  With that, Rafe activated another blast that shoved all three rapists through the portal.

  A second later, Beast closed the portal.

  “Now that this mess is cleaned up, perhaps we should leave before the police arrive,” Rafe said.

  “Fine by me,” I said, returning Rafe’s Colt to its pocket.

  I walked around the corner of the building toward the gravel lot where I’d parked my own Harley. There were still two bikes in the lot, but no sign of the owners. I guessed they belonged to two of the rapists.

  I mounted up and cranked the engine as Rafe joined me astride Beast, once again in Harley form.

  Rafe motioned, and I accelerated away from the bar, back toward our motel. A police car passed us, heading toward Cowboys, about a block down the street. The officer looked at me but didn’t give me a second glance.

  At the motel, I parked in my usual spot outside our room. Rafe pulled up beside me and slid off of Beast.

  “You can go,” he said. “Be back by sunrise.”

  “Certainly,” Beast growled. He shifted back into his manticore form and, with a blast of wind, leapt into the sky.

  I got our door open and shoved in before Rafe. He paused at the open door long enough to set a ward and then turned to me.

  He seemed calm, while I still felt like killing something. I still couldn’t believe that bastard bartender had roofied me. I was careful when I was out. The Army spent a lot of time training me to keep an eye on my surroundings and on my drink. I just never expected the rat-bastard bartender to be the one I needed to watch.

  “I need a shower,” I said.

  “Okay,” Rafe replied. “I’ll order pizza.”

  I shucked off my jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. Unbuttoning my blouse, I walked to the bath, tossing my blouse into the corner near the shower as I turned and pushed the door shut. Rafe still stood near the front door, watching me.

  I finished stripping and got under the water without waiting for it to warm up. I reached for the faucets and saw my hands shaking. I’d never been so close to killing anyone in the heat of the moment. Sure, I may or may not have killed some Taliban bastards while in the ’Stan, but you can’t always tell if your bullet took someone down or if it was the guy’s next to you. I was pretty sure I had a couple of kills, but each time I’d been doing my job, helping protect my buds. I’d always been calm in a firefight, not like a stone cold killer, but not like a nervous ninny either. I was well trained and calm as bullets buzzed past me and I returned fire. It was never like tonight. I had wanted to kill those rapists. I still wanted to kill them. Standing under the shower, letting the increasingly hot water cleanse me, I briefly thought of asking Rafe if he would take me wherever he sent them so I could finish what I needed to do.

  I stayed in the shower long after I’d finished scrubbing the slimy feel of those bastards’ hands off of me.

  There came a knock at the door.

  “Yes?” I called.

  “The pizza’s here. Are you coming out anytime soon?” Rafe asked.

  “Ah, yeah, I’ll be out in a minute,” I said and turned the water off.

  I dried off and then stepped out onto the tile floor. Damn, I should have gotten clothes to put on. I wrapped the tiny bath towel around my torso and studied myself in the foggy mirror. The towel was too damn short. I don’t know why it bo
thered me tonight. Rafe had seen every part of me, close up and in bright light on more than one occasion. Was it because of our argument or was it because of those rapists? Damn it, I wasn’t sure which.

  “Fuck it!” I said and yanked the towel back off. I threw it over the shower’s door and stomped out of the bathroom.

  Rafe was sitting at the table, eating pizza and drinking a beer. He had the TV on but glanced at me as I threw the door open. He took in my nudity without comment and then turned back toward the TV. There was some nature show on. The bear cubs looked cute.

  I found my oversized tee shirt with the U.S. Army logo on it and pulled it on. The black fabric hung half way to my knees and covered me a lot better than the damn towel.

  Damn it! I was actually mad at the towel for being so short. Sheesh, get a grip Tess!

  I joined Rafe at the table. He’d already opened another Tecate. I grabbed it and downed about half the contents. Setting the can down on the table, too hard, made a loud bang and Rafe cast his gaze sideways at me.

  “Sorry, I’m still a little tense,” I said.

  “No problem,” Rafe said as he slid the pizza box toward me.

  I opened it, took a large slice of the supreme, and shoved the pointy end in my mouth. I chewed rapidly, swallowed, and took another hard pull on the beer.

  “Do we have more beer?” I asked.

  “There’s four more in the fridge. If you want something stronger, I have a bottle of bourbon.”

  “Maybe later, not with the pizza.”

  We ate the rest of the pizza in silence, both of us apparently watching the antics of two lost bear cubs. I don’t know about Rafe, but I might have been staring at the TV, but I was thinking over my actions and whether I could have caught the bartender doping my beer. The more I thought about it, the less I believed that I should have caught him doing it. I’d been watching him, but I’d been watching his butt more than his hands. Damn him!

  When we finished the pizza, I took Rafe up on his offer of bourbon. I was on my third when I finally felt some of the tension leaving me.

  “I’m done,” I said. I stood up and went back into the bathroom. I relieved myself, brushed my teeth, and then found myself staring at my reflection in the mirror.

  “Is there something I can do?” Rafe asked from the bathroom door.

  I shook my head. “No, I’m good.”

  I pushed past him as he stepped back to clear the doorway. I pulled the covers down on the bed while Rafe went into the bath.

  Lying on the bed, the light sheet my only cover, I was still having trouble getting my mind to shut down. I wasn’t as tense as earlier, and while the booze had muddled my thoughts, I still felt as if I had done everything right. I had managed to defeat the roofie; I’d been in the process of kicking some rapist ass when Rafe showed up. If he’d been there a minute later, I’d have killed both of the biker bastards, and then I’d gone looking for the bartender.

  I felt the bed shift as Rafe slid into the other side. I opened my eyes and realized he’d already doused the lights.

  I rolled toward him and found he was lying with his back to me. I spooned against his back and put my upper hand over his chest.

  “Are you okay?” Rafe asked.

  I nodded and then said, “I will be. Thanks, Rafe.”

  “Thanks? For what?” he asked.

  “For showing up. I’d have killed all three of them in a few more minutes. I still want to kill them, but I understand that your way has its merits. At least there aren’t any bodies left for the police.”

  “Yeah, I try to not involve the police.”

  “Though, it would have been nice if you had shown up a few minutes earlier. Maybe before those bastards had me down and stripped.”

  “Oh? When should I have arrived?” he asked.

  “Hell, anytime before I drank that roofie.”

  “But then you wouldn’t have had the experience.”

  “Say what?”

  “You got roofied. Sure, that’s a nasty thing to happen to you, but you were more than capable of handling it. You were everything a Wanderer should be. You took an unexpected calamity and fought your way through. I’m really proud of you.”

  I leaned up on one elbow and stared down at Rafe. In the dim light, I saw him turn his head to face me.

  “What are you saying, Rafe?” I asked, my voice cold.

  “I’m saying you did good.”

  “But are you implying that you could have been there sooner?”

  “Implying? No, I’m saying it outright. I was in the bar when they carried you into the back.”

  “How? I didn’t see you.”

  “Glamour, I was the old man sitting near the door,” he answered.

  “And you sat there and watched them drag me off to be raped?” I asked. Emotion had flooded back into my addled thoughts.

  “Yes, I did. You took off on your own. I had to give you a chance to take care of yourself before I interrupted. You won’t develop if I’m there every second of the day to protect you.”

  “But–but you let them take me.” My anger was coming back, and I was sobering.

  “I was listening. I could hear everything that was said. If I had thought you weren’t going to be able to handle them, I would have interfered. As it was, if you hadn’t drawn the bartender back there by shooting one of them, I would have waited until you had finished with them and come back out. Even then, I thought about waiting to see if you’d take care of the bartender, too.”

  “You were waiting to see if I was going to get myself out of that jamb? They were going to rape me!”

  “No, they thought they were. I heard you cast that healing spell. I knew if you had the presence of mind to cast it then it would clear the Rohypnol out of your system. Once you were in control of your own body, I figured it would only take you a minute to handle a couple mundanes.”

  I was torn between kicking the shit out of my mentor and just sobbing into my pillow. I felt the emotion racking my body and then I felt Rafe’s hand come back to lightly grip the top of my bare thigh. With the physical touch, I could feel his emotions, and I knew he could feel mine. He felt relieved. I didn’t need to ask why. His relief was because he’d been worried I wouldn’t be able to handle the rapists.

  The anger eased out of me. Perhaps, he’d been right to see if I could get myself out of trouble. He’d told me that Wanderers had to handle whatever came at them. We don’t have others to bail us out of a tough situation. It was a lesson I was going to have to learn if I was going to become a Wanderer.

  He gave my thigh a squeeze as he felt my own emotions.

  “I will never let anything hurt you if I have any power to stop it. I may let you fight your way out of a jam, but if I see you can’t handle it, I’ll interfere.”

  I thought back to that biker, standing between my spread legs, his erect penis pointing at my vagina. A test? A chance for Rafe to see if I could handle myself well enough to be trusted on my own? Damn it. I knew Wanderers led a life of danger and adventure, but I hadn’t thought that rape would be part of it.

  I lowered my face to Rafe’s, and our lips met in a warm, comforting, kiss.

  Lying back down, I put my arm back across his torso and pulled myself tight against him.

  “Goodnight, Boss,” I said.

  “Goodnight, Apprentice.”

  Chapter 9

  Raphael

  I awoke and found myself on my back with a bare feminine arm lying across me. Turning my head, I saw Tess’s face against my chest. She’d drooled a little spot of saliva onto my left nipple. It would have been amusing, but then last night’s events came back to me. My anger welled up again. I had wanted to rip those rapists limb from limb. Only the presence of my apprentice had kept me from doing it. I’m not a man of great restraint when it comes to slime bags masquerading as humans. While Wanderers try to stay out of human affairs that don’t involve one of Fate’s summonings, we don’t, as a rule, allow true evil to exist
in our presence.

  Over the years, I’ve killed more than a couple of humans that made the mistake of showing me just what kind of creatures they were. Some were users of night magic, those I killed out of hand when I found them. Damn few people ever use night magic without turning its power to evil. I’ve found it better to nip that sort of thing in the bud rather than waiting to see how it will turn out.

  The other examples of slime-bag-hood that I separated from their bodies had usually done something so horrendous that it caught my attention. That’s not an easy thing to do since I rarely follow the news. However, a couple of times I’d gone out of my way to locate a few people that were wasting the life they’d been given. One had been a serial killer. I caught wind of him outside Omaha when I overheard a couple of truckers talking about his latest victim. It had taken me three days to track him down.

  I’d found the body of his latest victim at the morgue before the body had been released to next of kin. The body belonged to a ten-year-old girl. She had been savaged in manners that I don’t like to think about and would never repeat. The police hadn’t had a lead, but they knew that this girl, Elizabeth Lynn, was his sixth victim. Each child had been treated harsher than the one before.

  I broke into the FBI’s evidence locker to find the one DNA sample belonging to the suspect that they had recovered. I used it in a locator spell and tracked the man to a home in up-state New York. Confronting the man, a family man with a wife and three children of his own, I forced him to confess by using a truth potion and then dragged him out of his home without waking any of his family. I’d been torn between leaving him dismembered in the town square with a sign describing his sins and just making him disappear. His children made up my mind. I couldn’t bring back the ones he’d slaughtered, but I could at least protect his own children from learning what kind of beast their father was.

  In the end, his death was far easier than his victim’s deaths. He suffered–oh, I made sure of that–but not on the same scale as the suffering he’d visited on those children. I disposed of his remains, making sure his children remained ignorant of what kind of monster had sired them.