The Man Who Crossed Worlds (A Miles Franco Urban Fantasy)

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The Man Who Crossed Worlds (A Miles Franco Urban Fantasy) Page 9

by Chris Strange


  I don’t know what made me act. Spencer was driving toward me; he’d be passed me and gone in seconds. Maybe it was instinct, something animal-like, that made you give chase when someone ran. Maybe I was just angry, sick of this shit, wishing everything would go back to the way it had been.

  I was gripping something tightly in my hand. I hadn’t thought about it as I’d run, but now I looked down at the smooth glass bottle. The Kemia. I had Kemia again.

  Fuck them all. It was my turn.

  I uncorked the bottle with my teeth while I shoved my hand in my pocket to rummage through my coins. They were all different denominations, to make for easier identification, and some were even foreign currencies.

  I didn’t have anything specific to change the car, so I had to rely on one of my favorite coins, a large one with several concentric circles carved into it. It was a simple probability manipulator. I fished it out of my pocket, started humming as I let controlled randomness fill my mind, and splashed Kemia over the coin.

  There were no flashes of light, no loud bangs. Just the awareness of a twisting in reality, and a dull black hole appearing where the center of the coin should be. I gripped the coin tight in my hands and pointed it toward the car hurtling past.

  If I was thinking clearly, and knew more about car engines, I could probably have devised a clean way to bring the car to a halt. There were a lot of moving parts in an engine, and there were a lot of things that could go wrong with them. But I did the first thing that came into my head.

  I made the tires blow out.

  The tire Vivian had shot went first, exploding in a burst of smoke and the smell of burnt rubber. The rim hit the road, squealing, and the car skidded for a moment before Spencer regained control.

  The other three tires went half a second later. The air was filled with horrible screeching, some from the wheels and some from Spencer. I caught a glimpse of fear on Spencer’s openmouthed face before the car flew by me, drifting slowly and inexorably sideways.

  I had just enough time to whisper, “Shit,” before the passenger side of the car slammed into a streetlight. The earth seemed to shudder beneath me, and the tortured sound of twisting metal filled my ears. Jesus Christ. That hadn’t been quite what I’d intended.

  The bonnet of the car had wrapped itself around the lamp post, and the windshield had cracked. A thin trail of smoke or steam wound out of the engine, and it continued to make sounds like a sick grandfather clock. Through the smoke I could make out Spencer’s silhouette, but I had no idea if he was injured. I hadn’t meant to do that much damage. I wanted to stop Spencer so we could find out what the hell was going on, not kill him. Christ, he was probably just running because he was afraid we’d brought gang troubles into his house. Such a stupid, paranoid Vei.

  I let the Pin Hole in the coin close, and the black hole faded to nothing. Kemia had made such an extreme change possible, but I still felt drained, my breath coming heavy.

  A hand grabbed my shoulder, and my heart jumped so high it nearly kicked out my back teeth. I spun around, but it was just Vivian. She’d holstered her gun, and now she was staring over my shoulder at the carnage. Her face was a little flushed, but somehow she was breathing almost normally. Me, I was still puffing and wheezing like I was on my deathbed.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  I nodded, unable to speak. I realized I still had the cork to the Kemia bottle wedged between my teeth, so I recorked the bottle and slipped the coin back into my pocket.

  “Stay here,” Vivian said.

  “Nuts to that.”

  I followed her to the wreck. A few people in the surrounding apartments hung out of their windows, staring at us, but at least the road was devoid of traffic. I’d be worried about the cops showing up if Vivian wasn’t already here.

  Glass crunched underneath my shoes like ice. The air stunk of melted rubber and petrol, but it didn’t look like it was going to go up in flames. Even so, I was ready to bolt if I saw a spark; I’d seen enough action movies to expect an explosion at any second.

  I crept closer to the car, as if my steps would be just the thing to finish Spencer off. That was the last thing I needed. A groan came from inside the car, and my steps suddenly seemed ten times lighter. He wasn’t dead. There’s something uplifting about knowing you’re not going to get hit with a murder charge.

  We found Spencer still in the driver’s seat, miraculously unkilled despite failing to buckle his seatbelt and choosing a car that didn’t have an airbag. Not that he had much choice in this neighborhood.

  Vivian leaned against the passenger side window frame while I set about trying to pry open the driver’s door.

  “You injured, Spencer?” I asked.

  He rolled his head toward me, seemingly confused but coherent enough to glare at me. A nasty cut graced his forehead, but at least he wasn’t spurting blood from an open chest wound or anything.

  “Give me a hand with this door,” I said to Vivian. I jerked against it again but only succeeded in generating a crunching noise from the twisted frame.

  “In a minute. There’s no hurry. You don’t have any other pressing business, do you Mr. Davies?”

  “The Eight take you.”

  “Vivian,” I said. “Seriously, give me a hand here.”

  Spencer scowled and turned toward me. He was pinned in place by the steering wheel, keeping him from wiggling too far. “You tried to kill me! Fucking Tunneler.”

  “My bad. In my defense, you lied to me. I don’t react well when people lie to me.”

  “Oh yes, and you’re the epitome of virtue, are you? Get me out of here.”

  “I’m doing my best.”

  “Before we let you out,” Vivian said, “I’m going to need answers to a few questions.”

  I threw Vivian a look, but she ignored it. She wouldn’t really leave him there, would she? What the hell had happened to all her moral high ground bullshit?

  “No,” Spencer said.

  “No? You want us to leave you here? Do you think the police or the gangsters will find you first?”

  His face flicked through alternating expressions of fear and rage, so fast I wondered if she’d short-circuited his brain. Maybe it was possible; hell, I wasn’t a doctor.

  Finally, his face returned to a state of neutral anger, an expression I was beginning to find almost comfortable. It meant things were as back to normal. “Get me out. Then I’ll talk.”

  Vivian shrugged. “Fine. But if you try to run again, I’ll have you in cuffs before you can sneeze. Then we’ll see how you like it down at the station.”

  “You’re a bastard, Franco,” Spencer said. “I always knew you’d bring trouble down on me one day.”

  I met Vivian’s eyes and grinned. “You know, I think he’s starting to like us.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  For once I was on the other side of the interrogation table, and it made a refreshing change. This table was just Spencer’s kitchen table—far less impressive than the interview room at the police station—but I was still enjoying myself. Let someone else see what it felt like.

  “Why’d you run, Mr. Davies?” Vivian had given up all pretense of not being a cop as soon as we sat down around the tiny square table. For a place that let in no natural light, the kitchen was cozy, I guess, though it had a strange smell to it. I kept glancing toward his kitchen refrigerator, wondering if he kept his chemicals next to his lettuce.

  Spencer, for his part, was a wreck. Not from the crash; he’d come out of that with no more than the scratch on his head. But his eyes flicked around the room constantly, and he tapped out an agitated rhythm on the table. He ran a long tongue across his shark-like teeth and twisted in his chair. He looked old, older even than he usually did.

  “Mr. Davies,” Vivian repeated.

  “You know how much danger I’m putting myself in if I say anything?”

  “You’re in danger from me if you don’t talk,” I said.

  His eyes stopped on me for a mo
ment, before continuing their surveillance of the room. “Stop pretending to be tough, Franco. You can’t pull it off.”

  I’d been beaten half to hell, and he didn’t think I was tough. Typical. I tried to loom over the table, but it didn’t really work from a sitting position, so I settled for scowling instead. Spencer didn’t take any notice.

  “Look at me, Mr. Davies,” Vivian said. “Am I tough enough for you? Or would you like me to take you downtown and introduce you to some of the guys we’ve got locked up in holding? In fact, I think we’ve got a gang enforcer in there right now. You could make a new friend.”

  Spencer’s face paled further—something I didn’t know was possible—and ceased sweeping the room with his eyes, though his fingers continued to fidget. “All right, all right.”

  “Why did you run?”

  He tapped his fingers on the table a few more times. Jesus, he was scared. Did I really want to hear what he had to say?

  “I’ve been getting visits,” he said.

  Vivian leaned forward. “Visits? From who?”

  “I don’t know. First one came yesterday afternoon, when I was just getting out of the lab. All sorts of banging on my door, not the right knock. I was going to leave it, but it didn’t stop. I finally checked it out, and they started right in with the threats before I’d even let them inside.”

  “Man? Woman?”

  “Both. Two men, one Vei and one human. The human was big and fat. And there was a human woman with them. Don’t recall her name, but something about her face seemed familiar. A Tunneler, I think.”

  That could be Shirley O’Neil and John Andrews’ men. No matter what Andrews claimed, the bastard was caught up in this somehow.

  “Okay,” Vivian said, studying Spencer’s face, “and why did they threaten you?”

  “They wanted information, same as you. But they weren’t quite as nice about asking for it.” He shot me a look that could have melted steel. “Though I note that none of them destroyed any cars to get to me.”

  Being the bigger man, I chose to ignore that jab. Vivian pulled a notebook from some hidden pocket and was scribbling notes in handwriting that would have required a team of cryptographers to decipher. “Did they tell you who they worked for? And did you give them what they wanted?”

  “They weren’t people you play around with. They were obviously gangsters, from one of the gangs that didn’t mind mixing species.” That narrowed it down to about three of the major gangs, though Andrews was still my pick for first place. Spencer absentmindedly touched his neck, and I caught a tremble in his fingers. “The big one held a knife to my throat while the Vei asked questions. The woman didn’t say anything, she just went around examining my chemicals and reading my notes.”

  “Did she find anything?” I asked.

  “There wasn’t anything to find.”

  He was getting agitated again, squirming in his chair. I didn’t know if he was holding something back, or just nervous. I wanted to trust him, but the old bastard hadn’t made it easy.

  “And the questions the other one asked you,” Vivian said. “What did he want to know?”

  “Drugs. New drugs, specifically. It sounded like they were going around chemists and shaking them down. See what information they could shake out about this doctor.”

  “You know about Doctor Dee?” Vivian asked.

  “I’ve heard the rumors. I sell my chemicals to many people, Miss Detective. None of them are completely innocent. Many have gang ties. Some of them like to talk.” He shrugged. “So yes, I know a little.”

  “Do you know who he is?” I asked, feeling a thrill of excitement run through me.

  He looked at me like I was the biggest idiot in Bluegate. “If I knew that, I would’ve told those bastard gangsters so they’d leave me alone.”

  My heart sunk a little. I should have known that’d be too easy. “So what’d they want with you after you told them that?”

  “They were careful to ensure I wasn’t lying. Very careful.” His finger increased the tempo of its tapping. “Then they wanted to know more about this Chroma you were so excited about. Possibilities, what it might be able to do.”

  “What it can do? I thought it was just an enhanced version of Ink.” I glanced at Vivian, but she didn’t quite meet my eyes.

  The look that crossed Spencer’s face could almost have passed for a smile, if I thought he was capable of such an expression. “Is that what they told you? You don’t think the city would be wild as a ganuck if that’s all it is, do you?”

  The son of a bitch had a point. Drugs had been flooding Bluegate’s streets for decades, and the cops had barely got the tips of their fingers dirty dealing with it. What had changed? Why was Chroma so important?

  Vivian stared at Spencer with bloody murder in her eyes, and he just stared back smugly, though his fidgeting ruined the effect. I fought the urge to clench my fists. What had the cops been keeping from me now?

  “That’s it?” Vivian asked. “That’s all you’ve got? Some rumors and a few gangsters paying you a visit.”

  “I’m risking my life talking to you. What more do you want?”

  Vivian stood up. “Come on, Miles. We’re wasting our time.”

  I stayed seated. I wasn’t so eager to jump at her command. Not when I could be on the edge of a cliff. I’d taken a goddamn beating for this thing, stared down gun barrels, and Vivian had been hiding information from me this whole time?

  “What could this drug do?” I asked, barely keeping the anger from my tone. “Is it poisonous? Hallucinogenic?”

  Spencer answered first. He wanted us gone. “You’re not thinking big enough, Franco. That was always your problem. If Doctor Dee is a half-decent chemist, almost anything is possible. And possibilities, as you well know, can be very dangerous.”

  “Tunnels?” I said. “You’re talking about Tunnels, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe something worse. I’m just repeating what I’ve heard. I can tell you one thing, though. The gangs want it, and they want it bad. Violence is coming, violence like you’ve never seen. I’d leave this city if I were you. And I’d do it soon.”

  “How soon?” I asked. “When’s this thing hitting the streets?”

  “That’s one thing everyone agrees on. The first shipment will be here Friday.”

  “Friday?” I asked, my voice rising like a goddamn castrato. “This Friday? As in tomorrow?”

  The look on his face confirmed it. Hell. That’s why Andrews wasn’t hanging around. If he was going to act against Doctor Dee, he had to act now.

  I met Vivian’s eyes, and she had the same “Oh, shit” look on her face. It was clear now that neither of us had a goddamn idea what was going on. We were groping around in the dark, and not in the fun way.

  Whatever this Chroma was, it had scared Spencer and the underworld half to hell. Scaring Spencer wasn’t hard, but anything that scared Andrews enough to have him forming an underworld alliance and going to war was enough to scare me. We’d long since ceased to be in over our heads; the sharks were already nibbling our toes.

  “Miles,” Vivian said. “You still with us?”

  I shook myself free of my thoughts. Vivian stood, hands tight on her hips so I couldn’t see if they were trembling, her hair smooth and perfect as if she hadn’t just been running around and firing guns. My mouth went dry for a moment, a sudden rush of nervous energy running through me.

  Why couldn’t they pair me with an ugly cop?

  “Christ, you still mean to go after Andrews, don’t you?”

  “He’s the only lead we’ve got to Dee.”

  I sighed. “And you still want my help getting to Heaven.”

  “Yes.”

  I deluded myself for a few more moments that I had a choice, even though I already knew what I was going to say. I’ve always been a sucker for punishment. “Hell. Let’s not waste any more time, then.”

  She nodded briskly, a slight upturning of her lips her only of
fer of thanks. It was enough, for now. I’d be having words with her about whatever information she’d been keeping from me, but we had a long Tunnel journey ahead of us for me to practice my interrogation skills. I stood, leaving Spencer at the table, and made for the door.

  “Hey,” Spencer said. “The Kemia you took. You haven’t paid for it.”

  I’d completely forgotten about that. The bottle was in my jacket pocket, nearly full apart from the splash I’d used to take out the car. I glanced at Vivian and jerked my head toward Spencer. “You heard him. Pay the man.”

  Her smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. “I’ve half a mind to take it. Evidence. Obstructing the case.”

  “You’re a cop, Vivian. You don’t have it in you. Come on. We’re on a timer now.”

  She gave me a look that told me I was going to regret this later, then slammed a wad of bills down on the table in front of Spencer. “If I find out you withheld information from us, I’m going to see you in a cell.”

  She spun away and strode out the door without giving him a chance to respond. Spencer put his head in his hands, and a shiver ran through his frail body.

  I couldn’t muster much sympathy for him. He wasn’t the one about to throw himself into the middle of a gang war.

  That fun was saved all for me.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I took Vivian to my primary Tunnel in the basement of my apartment building with all the enthusiasm of a man digging his own grave.

  Logically speaking, I knew she already knew where it was, since she and Todd had set up the raid that got me arrested. That seemed so long ago, but it was only what, a day and a half? Was that all? I seemed to have packed an awful lot of excitement in. Time flies when you’re being threatened with gruesome murder, I guess.

  Vivian called up Detective Todd on her cell phone as she drove, despite the possible legal ramifications. I suppose in a city with murder rates as high as Bluegate, minor traffic laws take a back seat.

  She gave him a brief run-down of the fun times we’d been having together, and the plan for now. She left out the bit where the two of them had lied to me about the nature of Chroma. I was still pissed about that. Justifiably, I thought. They’d manipulated me into this whole damn enterprise without giving me the whole picture.

 

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