Vision Quest (The Demon's Apprentice Book 3)

by Ben Reeder

  “No, it’s okay,” Shade was saying as the guy froze halfway out of his chair. “This is the guy I was telling you about.” She came over to me and led me to the table.

  “You’re not a cop, right?” he asked, almost like it was a reflex.

  “Are you?” I challenged. “Cuz we brought you to where we do business.”

  “I ain’t no fuckin’ cop,” he said defensively.

  “Both of you,” Shade said sternly. “Put ‘em back in your pants. We’ve got a deal to do, unless you don’t want to spend my money.”

  “Naw, I’m good,” Nose Guy said. “Wolf lady here says you need an ID.”

  “I need an identity,” I said. “One that’s good for financials.”

  “That’ll cost you extra,” Nose said. “Three grand.” I let my head tilt to the right and looked at him with my best “Are you stupid?” expression.

  “One grand, and be thankful Shade here doesn’t rip your throat out for trying to stiff me right in front of her,” I said.

  “I can’t just make up a whole identity from nothing,” Nose protested.

  “No, you can’t. That’s why you’re going to go to that list of stolen identities that you bought for half of what I’m offering you and pull a random male name that’s in his mid-twenties for me.” He frowned as he thought it over for a moment.

  “Okay, fine. One thousand, up front.”

  “Half up front, just like always,” Shade said. “The rest when you deliver.” He nodded and Shade counted out five bills under the table, then slid them across to him. He took them, made a show of counting them and holding them up to the light, then stuffed them in his pocket and got up.

  “Okay, color me curious,” I said after the door closed and the sound of his car had faded.

  “Dominic had us working a protection racket,” she said after a few seconds. “Once we were free, we tried to stop, but a clutch of vampires started to hunt our old territory. Some of our former … clients … decided that paying us to keep the vamps out was the lesser of two evils. Some of them actually like us.”

  “And Mister Schnozz?”

  “He used to keep us in fake IDs.”

  “Used to?” I asked.

  “We used them to get booze,” she said. “Without King …” she trailed off. “Getting drunk off our asses isn’t as important as it used to be.”

  “What about the other options?” I asked.

  “Not in my pack,” she said. “We’re clean until we graduate.” Her gaze was steady, and while she wasn’t being hostile, I knew that she wasn’t going to tolerate any challenge to that.

  “I’m good with that,” I said.

  “It’s just as well, because we don’t bring in nearly as much as we used to,” she said. “That thousand for your ID just about broke us.”

  “I’ll pay you back, I promise,” I said. “It may take a—” My phone rang in my pocket, and I pulled it out with a sense of dread, expecting to see Dr. Corwyn’s name on the caller ID. Instead, Lucas’s number showed up.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I said as I hit the answer button. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Lucas sighed. “My dad’s gonna kill me, but I’m okay. But I need a big favor.”

  “You got it,” I said. “Anything you need.”

  “I need a ride home.”

  I didn’t say anything for a second. Lucas never needed a ride. Anywhere.

  “Okay,” I said slowly once I got my jaw off the floor. “How … what happened?”

  “I got into an accident coming home from gaming,” he said. “Lady came out of nowhere and hit me from behind at a stop light.”

  “But you’re okay, right?” I said. “How bad is the Falcon?”

  I dunno,” he said, his voice as close to tears as I’d ever heard him. “I just know I’m not driving her home tonight. I wouldn’t bother you this late, but there’s no answer at home. My tech-impaired parents probably didn’t turn their ringers back on after we came home from the lake.”

  “No, it’s all good,” I said, suddenly grateful to have a good reason to sneak out. “I’ll … we’ll be there in a little while. Just text me the address where you are.”

  When I looked up, Shade had already grabbed her purse and backpack.

  “You can drop me off at home after we drop him off,” she said.

  Half an hour later, we were pulling in to the parking lot of the building Lucas had texted me the address for. The Falcon, her back end crumpled and one rear wheel skewed sideways, was already loaded onto the back of a flatbed tow truck. An NEPD cruiser with its lights flashing was parked behind the other car, a white Ford station wagon with the right front quarter panel and hood looking like an accordion that had seen better days. Lucas was talking to a woman in scrubs by the other car.

  “I probably shouldn’t have even been driving,” the woman was saying tearfully. “I’d just pulled a double shift and I know that’s no excuse, but I must have dozed off or something.” Her scrubs bore the logo for St. Michael’s Hospital on them, and so did the ID around her neck. Nema was the only part of her name printed large enough to make out. Given what my father had said, though, I wasn’t willing to take chances that she wasn’t one of his. Junkyard, on the other hand, trotted up to her and sniffed her hand, then licked her knuckles before sitting down and looking up at her with those big brown puppy dog eyes of his.

  “It’s okay, ma’am,” Lucas said as Nema looked down at Junkyard. “We’re both insured, and we’re both okay. I guess that’s the most important part.” He was putting on a brave face, but I could tell by the tightness around his eyes that it was hard for him. Nema offered him a teary smile and nodded, then knelt to pet Junkyard.

  “Dude, sorry about your car,” I said. He shrugged.

  “I can probably fix her,” he said as we took a couple of steps away. “Hell, I can’t even be mad about it. She works in the NICU over at St. Michaels. That’s like automatic sainthood right there. And the cop said if she hadn’t hit me, she would have plowed into the train that was going by.” Another car pulled up and a big guy in BDUs got out. The nurse was in his arms in a flash, and then he was looking down at her like I imagined I looked at Shade sometimes.

  “Looks like you’re hoofing it for a while,” I said as I patted my leg to get Junkyard to come back to me. His head swiveled around and he trotted to my side.

  “Lucky for me, my best friend just got this sweet vintage ride,” Lucas said.

  “You ready to get out of here?” I asked.

  “Yeah, the tow truck’s gonna bring the car home, and I already talked to the cop and got her insurance info, so I’m good.”

  We started to turn toward my car when someone called out. The soldier was jogging toward us with one hand up, so we waited.

  “I’m really sorry about your car,” he said breathlessly. “You’ve been really cool to my wife, and I just wanted to say thank you for that. I can’t tell you how much it means to her right now. If you run into any trouble getting your car taken care of, if there’s anything I can do to help out, you call us, okay?” He handed all three of us a business card and stepped back, then turned and went to his wife.

  “Well, I suppose that could have gone a lot worse,” Lucas said as we headed for the Mustang. All I could manage was a weary “Yeah,” in response. We caught Lucas up on what we’d been up to in an effort to help take his mind off the wreck, but I could tell he wasn’t really listening. When he didn’t even ask about the fake identity, I knew we’d probably have to go over everything again later.

  We pulled up in front of his house and I got out to let him climb out of the back seat. We said our goodbyes and he turned and started up the walk. He hadn’t gone two steps before Junkyard jumped out the window and ran in front of him, then turned and barked at the house. I stepped up in front of Lucas and grabbed Junkyard so I could pull him out of the way.

  “Junkyard, what’s wrong with you?” I asked as Lucas went around him and hustled toward th
e front door.

  “Chance!” Shade called from the car. I turned to look at her and saw a look of fear on her face. “Stop him! Get him away from the house!” She was halfway out my window, one arm outstretched, her eyes gleaming gold in the moonlight.

  Time seemed to slow down as I reached into my pocket and grabbed my TK rod. Lucas’s hand was on the doorknob as I let go of Junkyard and put my right hand out. He turned and looked at me, his brow creased.

  “Vello!” I yelled as I swept my hand back to my body and felt the magick flow through my arm. Suddenly, Lucas was flying through the air toward me, and I saw Shade step up beside me. She caught Lucas and pivoted to crouch behind me in one smooth motion. I had a split second to react as something flashed behind the windows, and I put my hand back out. Magick coursed down my arm as I formed a command word in my thoughts.

  “Obe—” was all I got out before the house exploded.

  Chapter 7

  ~ Don’t waste time escalating. Hit your victim as hard as you can, as soon as you can. Opening with overwhelming force makes them give up faster and keeps them under control longer. ~ Infernal saying.

  I came to with my ears ringing and my body hurting. The world was white, and at first I thought I was suffering from the backlash of a failed spell. My eyes blinked and I suddenly realized I was looking into the core of a raging firestorm. Where Lucas’s house used to be was a column of flame that reached into the sky. The heat of it seared my face and arms as I stared at it in disbelief. Behind me, I could hear someone screaming in agony, and I turned to see Shade holding Lucas back as he struggled to get to the house. Tears fell down my own cheeks as the enormity of what had just happened hit me. My best friend had just watched his family die. I crawled to Shade’s side and put my arms around him as well, and together we pushed him further away from the blaze.

  “Junkyard!” I called out as we made it to the Mustang. I heard a bark from my left, and felt a furry shoulder bump against mine. Lucas’s screams were still incoherent as he kept fighting us, but one look into that raging furnace had been enough to tell me that nothing could have survived that. Still, I looked again, and saw something I’d missed the first time. The fire was starting to spin into a vortex, and at its core was a column of purple flame. My mystic senses buzzed as I felt a familiar presence in the flames, and I could swear I heard Dulka’s mocking laugh. Bitter, helpless rage started to well up, but it was drowned by the sound of Lucas’s screams turning to helpless wails of grief. I crushed him to me as sobs racked his body, my own tears flowing unchecked.

  “I’m sorry, Lucas,” I wept. “I’m sorry.” I could feel Shade’s shoulders shake as she fought her own battle with her tears. In the distance, I heard the low wail of sirens, too little help, coming far too late. Hands descended on us in the heat and pulled us into motion, taking us away from the worst of the heat. Lucas was pulled away from me, his face stricken as he looked back at the fire that consumed his family. I looked back over my shoulder to see a group of people pushing my car further down the street. As the Mustang rolled away, I could see wisps of smoke rising from the blackened grass of the front yard, and a cone of green that spread from the imprint of my knees in the lawn. Someone was patting my right shoulder with a purpose, and I looked down to see smoke curling up from a smoldering hole in my shirt.

  “Are you okay?” someone was yelling at me, though I could barely hear them over the constant ringing in my head. I nodded and let them pull me out of the street as the flashing red strobes of the firetrucks and ambulances heralded their arrival. From across the street, I could see the sides of the houses flanking the explosion were caved in, and people were leading pajama-clad residents out. I let them lead me to the back of an ambulance and sit me down next to Lucas and Shade. All we could do was put our arms around his shoulders and offer him our silent sympathy.

  “You kids are lucky to be alive,” a soot-covered firefighter said to me in the gray light. I just nodded. Beside me, Lucas just stared straight ahead, all of his tears shed for the moment. The fireman stepped in front of Lucas, forcing him to focus on him. “Son, the police are going to need to know if you have any family you can stay with.” Lucas blinked at him, his gaze still focused on something only he could see.

  “My grandfather,” he said slowly. “Hans Mitternacht.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, his movements slow. The firefighter gently took it from him and headed over to the fire chief’s truck. Shade and I ended up with a cop each taking our statements, which were pretty brief. They told us to go home, then made it more of an order once it was obvious we weren’t.

  I dropped Shade off a block away from her house, then headed back to Dr. C’s place as clouds started to build up overhead. For a moment, I sat out front, trying to keep my head together. I knew what I needed to do. It was one of the things I said I should plan for. But the price … I’d never expected it to be this high.

  Finally, I got out and walked in the front door, letting the screen door slam behind me and leaving the front door wide open. Thunder rumbled outside and seemed to follow me in, reflecting my mood.

  “In the library, Chance,” Dr. C said, his voice stern. “Now.” I ignored him and stomped up the stairs with Junkyard at my side. Dee wasn’t in the room, and I let out a sigh of relief. Junkyard hopped up on the bed while I went to the closet and grabbed my duffel bag.

  “Did you think I hadn’t learned from the last time you stayed with me?” Dr. C said from the doorway as I finished throwing my shirts into the duffel bag.

  “He blew up Lucas’s house,” I said as I grabbed more clothes from my dresser. I shoved the bundle of clothing into the duffel and stood there for a moment. “He killed my best friend’s family right in front of him. Right in front of me. They died because I had to piss the old man off and because I thought I knew what the hell I was doing.”

  Dr. Corwyn’s hand fell on my shoulder a moment later and he turned me to face him.

  “Chance, don’t do this to yourself,” he said, his voice firm. “This wasn’t your fault. You know that.”

  “He said,” I started, then choked on the lump in my throat. I swallowed it back down and went on. “He said there would be a price. I thought I could handle it. I thought this was between him and me. I’m gonna lose my best friend because I was a fucking idiot.”

  “Was Lucas hurt?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No. I saved him. But his family died because of me. He’s going to hate me for that. And I deserve it.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What I should have done all along … give the old man what he wants.” I zipped the duffel closed and pushed past Dr. C, nearly running down Gage in the hallway.

  “What’s happening?” he asked sleepily.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Go back to the Caymans. Enjoy the rest of your summer vacation.” I brushed past him and headed down the stairs, Dr. C’s voice calling out behind me. I kept going until I got to the bottom of the stairs.

  Dee stood by the door, her backpack and suitcase waiting. Every ounce of eight-year-old determination was blazing in her eyes, and I knew that somehow she had known what I was going to do before I even walked in the door.

  “No,” I told her.

  “He wants me, too,” she said. Her lower lip started to tremble. “I saw what he did. I dreamed it. And I don’t want him to hurt your friends anymore! Or mine, or Mom’s or anyone! If we’re together, we can look out for each other.”

  I went and knelt in front of her, then grabbed her in a tight hug.

  “Doesn’t work that way, sis,” I said as we pulled apart. “Mom made it so his name isn’t on your birth certificate. He can’t claim you’re his. Technically, he’s … well, he’s—”

  “Technically he’s a dick,” she said.

  “Dee!” I blurted. “If Mom was here—”

  “She’d say the same thing,” Dee said. I turned and looked over my shoulder at Dr. C for support, but he just put
his hands up and shook his head.

  “I’m with her,” he said. “He’s a dick. But your brother’s right, Deirdre. The law says he can’t make you come live with him, and you can’t go live with him, either.”

  Her eyes fell back on me, and her face crumpled into an unhappy pout. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I don’t want to go,” I said. “But I have to, so he doesn’t hurt anyone else.” Behind me, Dr. C let out a growl of frustration, then he put a hand on my shoulder.

  “If you’re going to go,” he said, “at least go prepared. Let’s finish your wand, and take a few basic precautions. I still don’t like it, but I can at least make sure I don’t hate the idea.”

  “The Council isn’t going to like this, either,” Gage said.

  “They don’t need to like it,” Dr. C said as he brushed past him and headed for the back stairway.

  “They just have to deal with it,” I said as I followed.

  “What?” Gage sputtered. “What do you mean?”

  Ahead of me, Dr. C stopped in the doorway to the back stairs and turned toward Gage. “Go tell them!” he said, then he was taking the steps at a run.

  It was a little past noon when we finally pulled up at my father’s house in the northern side of the Pittsburgh district. This was where the real money in New Essex lived, at least if it had been made after Viet Nam was a thing, and on the less-developed north side, you had to be able to afford some really low tax brackets to even have a P.O. box. For Stavros “the Spartan” Fortunato, it was the next best thing to actually being legit. The iron gate opened before Dr. C’s Range Rover even got to the intercom, so he drove on in. Behind us, I could see a blue Crown Vic slide past, its lights on and windshield wipers on in the steady rain. Better late than never, I figured. If the Sentinels were around, odds were good I wouldn’t have to worry so much about dealing with Dulka directly. Dr. C pulled up along the curving driveway, and the house came into view. On first impression, it was big, white and ugly. The front had what looked like an oversized awning that came out from the house like the front of a hotel or a gas station. Turrets or towers stuck out all over the front, and a five-car garage angled away from the rest of the house with, you guessed it, another rounded turret rising from the far end. It even came with its own gargoyle, tastelessly decorated in a cheap suit with sunglasses and a bulge under the left arm.