by Jim Johnson
“Doesn’t that get confusing?” Malcolm asked. “I mean, you’re an agent, right?”
Bello sighed. “Special agent, and yes, technically it is the same word for two very different things, but no, so far we haven’t gotten the two confused.”
Bello focused on me as I worked my way through a plate of salad and a ham and Swiss sandwich. “Our people still haven’t found Jackie, though our best guess is that she was forced into the Holding against her will and may still be there.”
I suddenly lost what appetite I’d had. “God, is there anything we can do? I could just open up a rift in the Veil and go on in there and find her.”
Bello shook his head. “Not a great idea. The Veil has already been badly weakened from the etheric bomb you dropped. It’ll take us years to repair the damage, and even then, we might not be able to repair all of it.” He managed a smile around his turkey club. “You made a hell of a wreck of it.”
I rolled my eyes again. “Great, I guess. Not sure how that’s relevant, though. Is the Veil under any risk of collapse if I cut another hole into it?”
Bello shook his head. “Well, no. But the more we poke holes into it, the easier it is for ‘geists and others to get out of the Holding and into the normal world, and for unsuspecting citizens to accidentally fall into it. Need I remind you about the Lincoln Memorial?”
Malcolm said, “Hang on! We closed that one down.”
Bello glanced at him. “You did, yes, but at some cost. Best reports and our research indicate that two people came up missing before you and Rachel had a chance to close that particular rift.”
He finished his sandwich and raised a hand. “Look. The Veil has always had holes in it, for as long as anyone in my agency can remember. It’s not on you two to fix that, but as fellow ley wielders, it’s all of our responsibility to try and not make things worse.”
“Worse?” I practically yelled out the word. “How can things be any worse? Two of my friends are dead, Charity is gone, and the Spinner is out for blood!”
Malcolm had an alarmed look on his face and reached out to me. “Rachel!”
Bello simply focused on me and raised an eyebrow. “Rachel, you have no idea just how much worse things could be.” He paused, studied my face. “Aside from that, who is Charity?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
CRAP.
I RUBBED THE BRIDGE OF my nose and tried to think it through, but there was no getting past the simple fact that I had just spilled a secret I had intended to keep from Bello.
“Christ, me and my big mouth,” I muttered. I glanced at Malcolm, who looked mortified, and then at Bello, who looked as patiently expectant as ever.
I sighed, and then nodded. “All right, fine. I’ll go with honesty since I can’t lie worth a damn anyhow.” I shifted on the chair so that I was facing Bello straight on. “Charity was a friend. She was either badly injured or outright killed at my house when the Spinner attacked.”
His eyebrows raised and I was somewhat gratified to see that he looked rather alarmed. “Another house mate? Why didn’t you mention her before?”
I shook my head. “No, she wasn’t a house mate, not exactly.”
The space between his eyebrows furrowed into a series of little ridges. “Care to clarify that?”
I didn’t risk looking at Malcolm again, though I could sense through the ley that he was tense. “How to explain? Uh…so Charity was a ley practitioner, but from a long time ago. One day she got sick, like real sick, and her allies who were also ley practitioners, built a sort of etheric matrix for her inside an old leatherbound journal. Before she died, they were able to help her sort of transfer her consciousness from her dying body and into the journal’s matrix.”
Bello didn’t blink once through my explanation. He nodded toward me. “And?”
“And…and so she sort of lived in the journal for a couple hundred years, and…”
“A couple hundred years?” Bello all but yelled it out.
I sat back in surprise. I hadn’t expected his outburst to be quite so…burst-y.
He shook his head. “You’ve got to be bullshitting me, Rachel. No one’s soul can live that long in a constructed matrix, no matter how strong their will or how well-built the matrix.”
I stared at him for a long moment or two, but then simply shrugged. “I don’t know about all that. I do know Charity told me she was born in the late eighteenth century, somewhere before the Revolutionary War. I mean, I guess she could have been lying, but I can’t imagine why someone would lie about that.”
Bello rested an elbow on the arm rest and rubbed his chin. “Go on.”
I took a breath, then dived into the rest of it. “And so I came upon her journal, and figured out how to unlock it using ley threads. And then I met her and we formed a friendship.” I glanced at Malcolm. “The three of us did. Charity gave us some pointers on how to use the etheric energies better, and the three of us developed a communication connection using ley threads.”
That piqued Bello’s interest, judging from one of eyebrow raises. He glanced at Malcolm. “Is this accurate?”
Malcolm sat back on the couch, looking deflated. “Yeah, man. We could talk to each other with our minds, you know? No need to talk like normal.”
Bello pursed his lips, apparently in thought, then offered us a slight smile. “That’s a useful skill to have. The agents here are taught something like it in their second year of training. Fascinating to hear that you have not only learned it, but presumably use it on a regular basis?”
The question was obvious, but I threw him a bone. “Once Charity taught it to us, we’ve used it pretty much every day. It’s more reliable than a text or a phone call, and we don’t have to worry about our smartphones or other electronics, uh, negatively interacting with the ley threads.”
That comment got a chuckle out of Bello. “And that’s taught during the first year. I’m not surprised this Charity knew anything about protecting electronics from the ley. If her story is true, then such things didn’t exist in her day.”
He tapped his chin a couple times with a long finger. “So how did Charity come to be caught up in the mess with the Spinner?”
I sat back in my chair and took a swig of water. “I didn’t meet her until after the first big fight with the Spinner. She helped me with some stuff and like I said, we struck up a friendship. I carried her journal with me everywhere I went, except for the day the Spinner attacked.”
I glanced at Malcolm. “We had a moving job to do, and it didn’t occur to me to bring her along. Her journal, and her consciousness, were both at home when the Spinner struck.”
Bello nodded. “I see. And then what happened?”
I shrugged. “I don’t have all the pieces, but I think Charity put up a fight and the Spinner got the best of her. He tore the pages out of her book and badly damaged the spine and covers of the book.” I paused, then asked, “Did any of your agents recover a book from my house?”
Bello stared at me for a few heartbeats, and I could have sworn I saw the gears in his brain moving behind his eyes. Finally, he nodded. “Forensics brought back a badly damaged leather journal and a small stack of weathered paper that appeared to match the paper remaining in the journal. Initial tests haven’t revealed much, other than the journal was once closely tied into the ley grid and was a powerful source of etheric energy.”
I sighed. “Was tied in? Is it not, any more?”
Bello shook his head. “Not that I know of, anyway. The report I glanced at said that the journal was little more now than it appeared to be—an old broken leatherbound journal that had a lot of pages torn out of it.” He reached out and rested a hand on my arm. “I’m very sorry for your additional loss.”
I hung my head. “Thanks, I guess.”
Bello removed his hand and folded it into his lap with his other hand. “Very interesting. Your explanation helps clear a few things up. Does raise some other questions, though, but I think I’ll spare you th
e stress of answering them.”
I frowned at him. “I don’t think I know what you want here, Bello. Thanks? Thanks for not asking us more questions? What exactly do you want from us?”
Bello passed a look between us, first focusing on Malcolm and then on me. Finally, he said, “It’s simple, really. Not easy, by any means, but a simple request. I’d like your help in tracking down and apprehending this Spinner character. My agency has a lot of questions for him and we’d like your help in tracking him down.”
I shook my head about as emphatically as I could manage without giving myself a headache. “How about not just ‘no’, but ‘no’ to the nth power of ‘no’?”
Bello’s brows furrowed again. “Don’t you want him caught and tried for the crimes he’s committed, the murders he’s committed? For nearly killing your grandfather?” He glanced at Malcolm. “And for nearly killing your grandmother?”
I shook my head. “Hell no, I don’t want him to stand trial. I want him to suffer, just like the people he’s hurt have suffered. He shouldn’t be captured and imprisoned.”
“Why?” Bello looked curious, though I sensed it might be a trap question. But screw it, I’d answer honestly anyway. I was too pissed off for subtlety.
“Because! I want him to hurt like he hurt me and all the others. I don’t want to see him alive again.”
I regretted the words the moment I spoke them. What the hell was I turning into?
Malcolm leaned forward and rested a hand on my shoulder. “The Spinner’s out for blood, man. He ain’t gonna let himself be captured or questioned.”
Bello focused on Malcolm. “You may be right there, Malcolm. But I have to at least try. It’s not my agency’s business to snuff out a ley practitioner just because they’ve misbehaved.”
“That’s it!” I shot up out of my seat and towered over Bello as much as I could being barely five foot six and wearing flat sneakers. “The Spinner didn’t fucking misbehave! He killed two people that I cared about, possibly a third in Charity, and maybe even a fourth in Jackie! Plus he’s caused a lot of damage and irreparable harm to countless souls wandering the Holding, and in general has been a giant pain in the ass for as long as I’ve been Awakened.”
I stalked over to the patio door, and then turned back toward Bello and Malcolm. “And you’re sitting there saying this bastard has just ‘misbehaved’? No.” Impulsively, I grabbed as many ley threads as I could reach and fused them into an etheric sword and slashed a freaking hole in the Veil right near where I was standing.
The rent in time and space was a dark void, outlined in swirls of electric blue energy tinged with my silver aura. My crystal pendant glowed with bright light from around my neck, and some little part of me wondered what sort of image I must have presented to Bello and Malcolm looking like that, with an electric blue sword in one hand and a fistful of ley threads in the other.
I pointed the sword in Bello’s general direction. “I’m done here. You’ve stated more than once that I’m free to go, so I’m leaving. Right now.”
I focused on Malcolm. “You’re welcome to stay here and dick around with him and his goons, but if you come with me, I could use your help.”
Malcolm slowly stood up, his hands out wide to either side, as if he was worried I might start flinging ley energies his way. “Where do you plan on going?”
I locked eyes with Bello. “I’m going to talk to my friend Bonita, and then I’m going to make sure my grandpa is all right. After that, I’m not sure. Probably go hunt down the Spinner and finish this, once and for all.”
Bello, who hadn’t moved an inch, slowly moved his hands and folded them in his lap. “That might not be the best idea, Rachel. If you’re willing to wait…”
I slashed the air between us. “Forget it, Bello. I’m done waiting, and I’m done hiding, and I’m done running scared. I’m a gods-damned Beacon. It’s about time I lit the way for people like me to take down the Spinner, once and for all.”
I glanced at Malcolm once more. “Last chance, Malcolm. I’m walking through that rift and I’m not coming back here. I’ll leave it open for a minute or two and then I’m closing it.”
Malcolm met my eyes and nodded. I didn’t dare try to contact him through our ley connection. It was a decision he had to make for himself. He was strong enough in the etherics to take care of himself now, even though I would have loved his help.
I gave Bello one last glare. “Thank you for the food and the room. Sorry I won’t be taking any more advantage of it.”
Bello inclined his head. “This isn’t over, Rachel. We’ll meet again. I’m sure of it.”
I shook my head. “I don’t much care, Bello. I really don’t.”
And with that, I pivoted on my heel, and strode right into the rift I’d created in the Veil, and didn’t look back.
Chapter Twenty-Six
ONCE IN THE RIFT BETWEEN THE mortal world and the immortal Holding, I sidestepped into the Holding, making my way through the shadowy corridors of the agency building’s shadow form, and then cut myself another rift in the Veil and projected that one to appear in my working space in Bonita’s store basement.
Charity had taught me how to create shortcuts through the Veil and the Holding, so that I could transport myself from one place to another more efficiently. I didn’t do it all that often, but when I did, I really appreciated the cut in transit time.
Sure as hell beat the Metro, anyway.
I stepped out of the gray Holding and into Bonita’s darkened basement. There was one small window set high against one wall, but I usually left it covered to discourage any curious peepers walking by.
Once on firm ground, I waved my hand toward the light switch on the far wall and willed a ley thread to pop up the switch. The fluorescents in the basement flickered on, bathing the largely empty room in yellow-white light.
I moved toward my small pile of working gear I usually had here, and left the rift open in the center of the room as I had promised Malcolm.
I’d give him a couple minutes, but then I was gonna get out of there. I hadn’t been kidding when I said I was gonna talk to Bonita and then jet to Branchwood. Now that I had nowhere else to go, I was…
Shit. Abbie. I dug around in my pockets, but realized that other than my crystal pendant and my clothes, Abbie hadn’t left anything for me in my hospital room, and nothing had been waiting for me in suite.
Crap. That could be a problem. As I mulled over what to do, there was a gentle push through the etherics and then Malcolm stepped out of the rift and onto the basement floor.
My mood lifted when I saw him, and after a moment’s hesitation, I rushed over to him and gave him a big hug.
“I’m only gonna say it once. I’m grateful you came with me.”
He nodded into my hug and squeezed me close. “We’ve been together in this since the beginning. It’s only right that we hang together ’til the end.”
I don’t know why that made me tear up. Maybe it was the sincerity in his voice or the realization that he was right—even with the ups and downs and challenged we’d had together over the last several months, we’d experienced them together. That had to count for something.
I gently backed out of the hug and held his hands. “Malcolm, you have been a good friend and ally. I’m really sorry if I haven’t told you that enough or shown how grateful I am that you’re in this with me.”
He squeezed my hands and then let go. He glanced around the basement. “So what do we do now?”
I sighed. “Well, I’m sorta making this up as I go.”
He snorted. “What else is new?”
I made a face and then gestured toward the metal spiral stairs leading up to the main level of the store. “I think we go upstairs and see if Bonita is here.”
He gestured toward the shimmering rift in the Veil. “And that?”
I focused on the rift, and wove a series of ley threads into it, suturing up the wound in the Veil with sure, confident motions. In j
ust a few moments, the rift was gone, and the Veil, at least in this place, was back to its whole, unblemished self.
I glanced at him. “Come on.”
I led the way up the spiral stairs, which opened out into a small storage closet in Bonita’s backroom. I slipped through the closet.
Bonita wasn’t in her back room, and a glance into the darkened shop itself showed me that she had closed up for the night. I wasn’t even sure what time it was, so I flicked on the lights to the main part of the store and glanced at the old Tom and Jerry clock mounted above the front door.
I glanced at Malcolm as he moved to stand next to me. “Just past seven. Branchwood’s open to visitors for another hour. What say we go visit grandma and grandpa?”
He glanced at me and then away, giving me one of those looks that said he wanted to say something but wasn’t willing to.
I gave him a gentle slug on the arm. “Come on, Malcolm. If there was any time to trust each other, right about now is it. We’re on the run, more or less, and don’t really have anything left to lose. What’s eating you?”
He took a few moments to glance at everything in the store except me, and then finally focused on me. “I…I think there’s one place we should go before we go to Branchwood.”
The tone of his voice wasn’t particularly encouraging. “And that would be?”
He chewed the inside of his cheek, and then said, “I think we should go talk to Miss Chin.”
My hackles went up almost immediately, and I almost shouted at him outright, but I forced myself to take a moment to collect myself and really examine his suggestion.
After a few seconds, I shook my head. “Nope, I got nothing. Why do you think going to Miss Chin is at all a good idea?”
He leaned against the door jamb between the main part of the store and the back room. “Other than Bello, she’s the strongest person we know who can use the ley threads. And with Charity gone, we’re gonna need all the allies we can get to take down the Spinner.” He sighed. “I don’t think we can take him alone.”
