The Gift of Fury

by Richard Jackson

  I gambled and won. If Meredith took the extra time and effort, instead of tapping the Bloodstone’s power to do things quick and dirty then things would have gone a lot differently. With the ring is drained, it is useless to him. It will be days, maybe weeks, before he can build up enough power for the Bloodstone to be a threat. By then, it will be too late. I’m on him.

  The only sound in the park is that of two men doing their best to hurt one another. This isn’t an action movie. There is no witty banter or curses, just the sound of breathing and the occasional grunt of pain or explosive exhalation as a blow slips past a guard. Even with surprise on my side, he is able to blunt my initial assault.

  For the last few days, he’s had his fun. He enjoyed dropping hints about our connection and playing his games. Now that I’ve changed the rules, it’s time to settle up. Meredith has had this coming for thirty years and I take it to him. To his credit, he steps up to the plate taking what I dish out. With each punch and kick, I feel his confidence and arrogance wither. Everything is unraveling. I hope it’s tearing him up inside.

  I match my skill and experience against his strength and power. It’s his quickness against my ability to second guess him and Kara’s warnings. I stick to the plan and do everything right. I use the patterns drummed into me by my teacher and the hard knocks I have taken over the years. I don’t look for openings, I create them.

  Meredith has never been in a fight like this. He’s a bully and a killer but not fighter. This is a new experience for him, dealing with someone able to fight back. Still, he is adapts quickly. More of his punches and kicks land forcing me to spend more time defending myself. Whoever taught him self defense was no slouch.

  A little over a minute into the fight, he screams something. I shut him up with a viscous knife hand to the throat but I am beginning to tire. I can’t keep up this pace for too much longer. I usually take things slow and easy relying on counter punching instead of an all out attack. The injuries from the past few days are sapping my strength and endurance but I need to keep Meredith here until Nerva has done her part. I just hope Hagan is clear by then. Who knows, I might be able to pull this off without her help. Meredith is bloody and gasping for breath. Then it happens, my right knee buckles.

  I’m in trouble and he knows it. His hands close on my throat. I quickly break the hold before it can solidify into a choke. Damn it! I can’t go anywhere. I’m stuck in front of him. I try to jam a thumb into one of his eyes. The move is countered. For my troubles, Meredith kicks my buckling leg out from under me. I manage to break my fall but I still hit the ground hard. A kick drives what little air I had left out of my body like it did all those years ago. Meredith wastes no time. He gets down to business. If I didn’t need surgery before, I will now. He stomps down hard on my right knee almost causing me to pass out. I can’t salvage this. What was once a fight turns into a beating, one that doesn’t end until he is sure I can no longer fight back. He stands over me, bloody and triumphant. His foot toes me to see if there is still some life left in me before he pulls out a length of cord out from his pocket. It’s probably the same one he used on his other victims; at least I hope it is. “That was foolish. I told you that you couldn’t beat me. No hard feelings.”

  Where the hell is Nerva? I told her timing is everything but I don’t see any sign of her or the police. She would pick this night to run a little late. Kara tries to comfort me but her tears get in the way. She doesn’t think I’m going to make it. I’m almost out of tricks.

  “Don’t pass out on my, Albritton. I want you awake for this,” Meredith gives me a shake to make sure I am still with him. “You don’t know how much you have irked me. I don’t know what annoyed me more; your escape all those years ago or your pitiful efforts to stop the inevitable.”

  He kneels down and I feel the cord around my neck. The bastard doesn’t throttle me yet, he wants this to last. Meredith can’t just kill me, he has to humiliate me and that’s fine by me. He’s given me time, time that I need and hope. “Can’t you hear them?” I croak.

  His smile of triumph is replaced first by uncertainty then fear. He doesn’t want to believe his ears. The police will be here in moments but my part isn’t done yet. Meredith can still get away. He could flee into the night with the Bloodstone. It hurts to smile. I do it anyway as I whisper the words that will drive him over the edge. “You’re done, Meredith. I beat you. Even if you make it out of the park, Hagan or one of the others will nail you.”

  Meredith’s face turns red with anger. He tightens the cord around my neck and I struggle to hold on. The night becomes blacker as the police charge into the clearing. They don’t yell freeze or anything. There is the sound of thunder and a flash of lightning. Meredith falls away from me. I can breathe again. Kara holds me as I slip the rest of the way into the darkness. Before everything goes black, my vision is filled with Nerva looking down at me, better late than never.

  “That’s another one you owe me,” she says.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I leave out as much as I can about my friends. That was part of the plan, another part of the plan no one was thrilled about. Someone had to take the heat. I volunteered for the job when I confronted Meredith in the park. While I healed, the others scattered to the four winds.

  Scott went back overseas to take care of some business at his family’s estate. From there, he planned on making arrangements to acquire Meredith’s property in the Bronx. Whatever that thing in the stone is, it’s too dangerous a loose end not to tie up. Still, Scott didn’t forget about me. He saw it as his duty to look out for me, plan or no plan. He is taking care of my hospital bills. He also made sure to put one of his attorneys at my disposal just in case.

  Hagan, who has enough legal troubles to last at least a dozen lifetimes, left town. Knowing him, he was probably on his way to Philadelphia. He had friends there and a lot of good memories. Like him, the city was rich in history with many stories to tell. Hagan wouldn’t be gone long, just long enough for the police to forget about him. They always do. Sometimes it takes a week, sometimes it would be longer. People who aren’t friends and close associates tend to forget about him. Hagan called it a mixed blessing which kept him out of the news and history books.

  For all intents and purposes, Sol dropped off the face of the planet. He retreated to the confines of his library, temporarily severing his few ties to the mundane world. It was already difficult to contact him. Now, it was almost impossible. Sol had the least to fear from the authorities. It puzzled me as to why he went into hiding. Now, I have a good idea why. He figured this wasn’t over and was playing it safe. You don’t get a name like Solomon the Wise by being careless.

  In contrast, Nerva is hiding in plain sight. With her powers, she can avoid unwanted attention from the authorities. Even if they knew her usual haunts, the police would be hard pressed to catch her. She won’t make it easy for them or anyone else to get a hold of her. It’s a matter of self-preservation and Nerva is very good at taking care of herself. Hopefully, I won’t need to reach her or Sol for a while.

  My visitors move away from the bedside to converse. Time seems to slow to a crawl as I study them. Something has been nagging me since they arrived here. Yes, their look and demeanor still scream the word “Fed”. It’s not that. They are returning to my bedside, fanning out to surround me. This feels more wrong with each passing second. I realize I haven’t seen them flash one bit of identification. The medication I’m on is definitely me throwing me off.

  Marino’s voice is calm and almost reassuring but not quite. “We believe your story. We need to transfer you to someplace more secure and bring you up to speed. It’s not safe here.”

  I am about to ask for some id when I feel a sense of pressure against my arm. I look to the side to see Marino’s doctor inject something into my IV tube. The other man holds me down before I can yank the tube out. He doesn’t even try to be gentle about it.

  “You’re not with the FBI.”

&n
bsp; I don’t know whether they laugh or not. I am more interested in how pretty the room looks when it spins in time to the theme song from the Tonight Show.

  Act Two: Recovery

  Chapter Fifteen

  I stop delaying the inevitable and open my eyes. There is something disturbing about waking up someplace other than where you fell asleep. It’s even more disturbing when you’ve been knocked unconscious. It’s happened to me more times than I would have liked. It’s something I will never get used to. I never consider it a good thing. This time is no different.

  My surroundings are a step up from what I was expecting or imagining. The room has a warm and cozy feeling to it. There are no bars on the window to clash with the wood furnishings. Instead, each window is outfitted with latest in home security and child safety devices. They can open just enough to let fresh air into the room but not enough for a child to get through unless the window is broken in which case an alarm will sound summoning my hosts and lord knows who else.

  Kara is here. That makes me feel better. She has almost as many questions as I do. This isn’t what she was expecting when she told me I would be free soon. I catch her up to date as I find some clothes to wear. They aren’t mine but they are just the sort of thing I would wear, jeans and a t-shirt. Whoever my hosts are, they are thorough. Not only did they get my size right, there is also a brace for my knee.

  “Are they with the man who attacked you?”

  “No, cause I’m still alive.”

  Kara nods in agreement. If they were with the man who tried to kill me, they could have finished me in the hospital. That doesn’t make them friends.

  “True. The man who attacked you was surrounded by a Glamour.”

  I frown at this latest revelation. Only the Fae and their descendants can use that style of magic. What do they have to do with this? The last time I checked, I was on good terms with both of the Fae courts.

  “Well, that’s something. I would feel better if I knew more like who my hosts are and why I’m here.”

  The knee brace looks simple to put on and adjust. I get dressed and fasten the thing on, testing it out. The pain is still there but no where near as bad as it was before. I might be able to get by without having to resort to the aluminum crutches that sit in the corner of the room. I nearly fall down making my way over to them when Marino enters the room. She is carrying a wooden tray with what smells like breakfast.

  “Good morning, Mr. Albritton” She says.

  Marino seems pleased with herself. She should be. I am right where she wants me to be. Whoever she works for must have some pull to get me out of the hospital. I focus on the woman ignoring my hunger. The labels that immediately come to mind are pretty and athletic. After her little act in the hospital, I add smart and clever to the list. Marino also looks a lot more relaxed and at ease than she was the last time I saw her. I imagine this is less stressful than waltzing into my hospital room under false pretenses and kidnapping me. I don’t make it easy for her. I give her the silent treatment while Kara checks her out.

  “She’s not enchanted. She’s not a sorceress or one of the Fae.”

  Marino sets down the tray on a table near one of the windows. “I know this must be hard for you. We had to take you into protective custody.”

  “Is that what they call kidnapping these days?”

  The promise of breakfast and food lures me closer. It smells delicious but it doesn’t solve my problem. How do you deal with someone who kidnaps you? I could shout and scream but it won’t get me anywhere so I force myself to be reasonable and fail.

  “Where do people get this stuff from? Oh wait, it was for my own good.”

  “I’m sorry but there is a lot at stake. You wouldn’t have come willingly if we told you who we were,” she says.

  “Lady, after the story I told you and your friends there isn’t a lot that I could call implausible. It can’t be worse than anything I’ve seen, done or said.”

  It begins to dawn on her just how silly this whole situation is. Marino lets her guard down and for the first time, I catch a glimpse of her true smile. She stops just short of laughing.

  “You’re right. It seems like something you might see in the movies,” She gestures to one of the chairs at the table before sitting down. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning. My name is Jennifer Marino and I’m with the government.”

  “That narrows it down. What agency?”

  “You probably never heard of it. I’m with the Defense Intelligence Agency.”

  Marino is wrong. I have heard of it. Who said you couldn’t learn anything from a game of strip Trivia Pursuit. Yes, it’s as bad as it sounds. The only reason why I remember this bit of trivia is because I got the answer wrong. After the game, I decided to read up on the DIA. What I found out was interesting enough to remember. The DIA works hand in hand with the Department of Defense and intelligence communities around the world. Its role is much like that of the CIA. Unlike the Central Intelligence Agency, they get a lot less press. The DIA is a military organization. When I hear those stories about men in black who deal with the weird stuff the other agencies won’t touch, I think of these guys. The organization’s symbol laden seal is the sort of thing that would give a conspiracy theorist a woodie. Its dark background brings to mind the unknown and hidden dangers surrounding us. In the foreground, the Earth and a flaming torch beating back the darkness.

  “I would have felt better if she said she was with the Vatican.”

  I don’t quite smile at that. I’ve actually dealt with the Church on several occasions in my career. They have always had more than a passing interest in the occult and supernatural. It’s something they don’t publicize but I digress.

  “I’ve heard of you. It just raises more questions. What is the DIA doing investigating something like this?”

  I can think of a few reasons why they might be interested in me and my friends. None of them are good. I need to know where we fit in. I don’t interrupt Marino. I listen to her carefully, with the ear of a skeptic. Alert for some lie or missing detail that will tell me I am being tricked again. In the end, I can only stare at the woman as I digest my meal and what she has told me.

  Kara’s thoughts mirror my own. “These people are dangerous.”

  The DIA is split into several different directorates. Her department deploys field agents to gather intelligence and analyze data. These agents are assigned to task forces which work hand in hand with United States’ allies to point out potential threats and in rare cases, act against them. Each task force varied in size. The amount of funding and support they received is based on how dangerous a threat might seem to the Director. For instance, the task force assigned to deal with nuclear and biological weapons was the largest and most heavily funded one with terrorism as a close second. Marino’s task force is one of the smallest as she tells it. I don’t think anyone in the DIA thought the supernatural was real much less posed a threat to the world until two days ago. I ask the question, knowing I will probably not like the answer.

  “What changed their minds?”

  She doesn’t answer me, not immediately. That brief pause tells me she is going to leave something important out. “I forgot that you were pretty out of it for the last two days. There was an incident, the night you were attacked in the hospital. At first, we thought it was the work of terrorists. As we investigated, we realized something strange had happened. My commanding officer took a special interest when one of our psychics described you and mentioned something about the Seven.”

  Oh joy, a psychic fingered me. Dealing with psychics is almost as much trouble as trying to get a straight answer out of an oracle or soothsayer. They always speak in mumbo jumbo or give cryptic clues that never make sense till all is said and done. The only one I trust is Rook and it is seldom I visit her for a reading.

  “And what happened?”

  “It will be easier to show you.”

  ***

  A picture is worth a thousand
words. It tells the story far better than Marino could do with mere words. I watch the recording again. This time I pay more attention to the little things. No one, except for me and my friends, knew why the building collapsed. With or without Meredith’s arrest, there was going to be an investigation. The light show Scott and Sol created saw to that. It was something I didn’t take into account when I asked them to level the place. Moments after the city engineers entered what was left of the building, there was an explosion. When the first camera got on the scene, it was in time to capture the worst of the tragedy. The thick ash grey cloud that was seemingly dispersing on the wind had flooded the neighborhood. It only covered a three block radius but the casualty reports were still coming in. The news called it an accident involving some sort of biological or chemical agent. The coroner was still working on the cause of death. The mystery helped fuel the panic which now gripped the city. The common theory was Meredith was stockpiling some sort aerosol based weapon within the building for terrorists. The truth is a lot more frightening.

  “That cloud is some kind of elemental.”

  From Marino’s expression, she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. This is all going to be new for her. Hell of a time for a crash course in this sort of thing.

  “An elemental is a spirit that is associated with one of the seven elements: fire, earth, air, water, mind, wood and metal. Their power and sentience varies. That one is very big, bigger than any I ever heard of. It’s more than a little dangerous.”