by Joey Ruff
He had half-turned away, staring off into the distance with a far-away look in his eyes.
“Crestmohr?”
He turned and looked at me, then nodded. “I would be happy to help in any way I can.”
“Cheers,” I said and went inside.
I found Ape in his study. He sat at the desk with an open book in one hand and the other on his computer keyboard.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He looked up at me, a bit startled. “Jono, hey. I didn’t think you were ever getting back.”
“Busy morning.”
“I’m sure, but I expected you last night.”
I ignored him. “What are you doing?”
He looked down at the book and said, “I’m researching the house.”
“In an old book? How does that work?”
“It’s a diary,” he said. “One that belonged to the original owner of the house, a man named Christoph Petrovka.”
“Sounds Russian.”
“Maybe. But he emigrated from the Ukraine.”
“And this is relevant how?”
“I’m getting there,” he said. “He was a Draconist.”
“The Order of the Dragon was Hungarian.”
“And so was Petrovka’s maternal Grandfather. The Order of the Dragon was designed, not only to fight the Turks, but to defend the cross and war against the enemies of Christianity.”
“The Fallen.”
“Exactly. Just like the dragons whose images they bore next to a red cross on their shields.”
“Aegir,” I said.
“And…what? Where did you hear that name?”
“Apparently the bloke’s in town.”
“The storms.”
“That’s what they tell me.”
“What is he doing here?”
“Wait, how do you know that name?”
“I’d be remiss if I didn’t say I had my suspicions. I thought it might be one of them. I just wasn’t sure who. Aegir makes sense, though. Actually, makes a lot of sense.”
“What the fuck aren’t you telling me, mate?”
Ape took a deep breath. “Okay, Jono. I guess it’s time I tell you everything I know about La Cosa Nostra.”
29
Ape closed the book in his hand and set it on the desk. He didn’t look at me right away, and I could tell that what he was about to say was difficult. He’d taken an oath or some bollocks. Depending on the oath, the revealing of the information might cause him actual, physical pain.
After a moment, he looked up at me and said, “You know they originated in Sicily due to an incident. But the actual story starts much, much earlier.”
He didn’t bleed from his pores or cry out in pain while he talked. That was a good sign. Apparently, Ape wasn’t bound by anything but his word, and that irked me just a nibble.
“The book of Genesis, chapter six. The sons of God looked upon the daughters of men and took them unto themselves, siring a race of giants.”
“The Nephilim.”
“Yes. You know the story,” he said. “God flooded the world, and Noah built the ark. The book of Enoch calls the Sons of God by a different name: Watchers.”
“The Grigori,” I said. “Get to the point.”
He looked to be getting a little annoyed with my interruptions. “They were the two hundred angels appointed by God to watch over Creation. They fell. They were not involved in the war in Heaven. They did not openly oppose God for the throne. Yet for their sins, the book of Jude says they were bound in the low places of the earth where they were to wait until the day of Judgment.”
He watched me a moment, waiting for me to interrupt again. I didn’t. When he continued, his pace was a little quicker. “Fast forward to 1813. A small town in Sicily. One of the feudal barons sold off his land to five private citizens. They renovated. Old buildings were torn down, new ones were erected. As the legend goes, they found something beneath the old church. I don’t know what it was: a box, a door…something. They opened it.”
“The Grigori’s prison?”
“Not all of them,” he said. “They weren’t all sealed together. We don’t have a count of how many seals or prisons there are total. We’ve located at least five, and we’ve got a guess at three others. Some are believed to house only one Grigori. Others, considerably more.”
“How many?”
“The one opened in Sicily housed thirty-nine.”
“Holy shit,” I said. “And Aegir?”
“He was released earlier.”
I took a deep breath.
“But the Grigori weren’t the only things released.”
I looked at him expectantly.
“What?”
“Chaos.”
“Seriously?”
“As near as we can tell, it’s a collection of energy, little bits stolen here or there over time from each of the Grigori that were imprisoned in the cage. Wherever it goes, it changes things. It manipulates matter, distorts it. Those it comes in contact with are…altered, and not for the better.
“The name La Cosa Nostra means Our Thing. When they released the Grigori, they made a pact to undo what was done.”
“Specialized hunters,” I replied, remembering what Ape had said of Rino.
“They didn’t let others in and they kept their actions secret. Chaos breeds fear, anger, and paranoia, which in turn, breeds more chaos. The more who knew what was out there, the more would fear it, and the stronger it would grow.”
“And the Fallen gain power from being worshipped.”
“La Cosa Nostra’s façade of fear and mistrust began simply. They went to area farmers and villagers and offered their protection.”
“But they couldn’t say what the protection was from,” I said. “I get it. They became the threat and the resolution, made it seem like it was all just about fucking money.”
“Eventually, they followed it to America, and the cycle began again.”
“So, thirty-nine plus running around?”
“They haven’t sat idle for two hundred years, Swyftt. Over half have been reclaimed. La Cosa Nostra has had several major victories.”
“Let’s say I buy it,” I told him. “How do a bunch of mooks and greasers with tommy guns take down fallen angels?”
“With what was left in the cage.”
“They opened Pandora’s box.”
Ape nodded. “Not the original, of course, but we believe that story came from a similar cage. We know Aegir was freed earlier, along with Amalek and a few others. The hope that was left was a weapon. A sword.”
“Don’t tell me…”
“No,” he said. “It’s not my sword. I told you, my uncle found that in his travels.”
“You keep so many secrets from me, how am I supposed to know?”
“Don’t play the martyr. The sword will be in New York. Maybe Jersey. It’s kept with the Don.”
“Okay,” I said. “How does the house fit in?”
“Petrovka. Allegedly, he suffered a great loss. He lost his entire family at sea in some freak accident.”
“At sea?”
“That’s what I found. After that, he moved to the states. He commissioned Rino’s house to be built.”
“Rino said it was built by some other guy.”
Ape shrugged. “I love Rino like a brother, but he doesn’t always have the most reliable intel. Petrovka built the house. When he died, it passed to the bank. Eventually it was purchased by the Seattle Rum Baron. That part, Rino did have right. My guess is the Baron must’ve been involved with La Cosa Nostra.”
I stared at him blankly, and while the wheels in my head turned frantically, they had no traction. “Either I’m missing something, or you didn’t answer my question. The house…Aegir?”
“For a long time, Aegir took residence in Northeastern Asia.”
“And Petrovka’s family died at sea. You think it’s related?”
“I do. I called one of my contacts in La Cosa N
ostra back east. He said even though Petrovka was never part of the family, his story’s somewhat of a legend.
“The way I heard it, Aegir…or Veles, as he was called over there…approached Petrovka’s village for tribute. The villagers paid, but Petrovka didn’t. So, Veles murdered his family.”
“Of course, he did.”
“Petrovka spent a number of years looking for…I don’t know…a way to get vengeance on Veles. Apparently, he found a weapon, but by that time, he was too old and weak to wield it himself. So he came to America to hide it.”
“It’s in the house,” I said. “Fucking perfect.”
“Rino’s come to Seattle to hunt Aegir.”
“And he’s trying to find the weapon in the house to kill him. But if Rino’s a Halfling, why doesn’t he just swear allegiance to Aegir and call it a day?”
“Rino’s not a Halfling, Swyftt.”
“Then what else would he need the bonnacon for…?”
“The ghost…,” Ape offered.
“It consumes all fire in its vicinity. Rino’s illegally importing the firebreeds in hopes that their natural flames won’t be snuffed by another paranormal force. He’s gonna blow the wall. The weapon must be behind it.”
“I’ve been sitting here poring over this material. I haven’t found anything saying that Petrovka put a guardian in place. I haven’t been able to find any import or shipping documentation. I guess it’s possible he found something local.”
“It’s possible he chained his bastard, hunchbacked son down there for punishment.”
He just looked at me for a moment in silence. Then he shrugged. “I see the logic behind that, at least. You’re right, though. It could be anything.”
“Well, what do you wanna do?”
“About what?”
“Stone and Chuck are on standby. They wanna come along when we go back to Rino’s, something about international transit laws. It would probably help to know what the ghost is before we do that, but we don’t have a lot of time. I’ve got a gargoyle thing around sundown.”
“That’s like six hours, Swyftt. And what do you mean the FBI is coming with us to Rino’s? When were you gonna talk to me about that?”
“I understand he’s your mate and all, but…”
“There’s no buts. I’m not just going to kiss his cheek and let the law take him away. I don’t betray my friends. How would you feel if they came for Huxley?”
“Huxley’s dead.”
He threw his hands up. “If he weren’t.”
“I think I’d have a few things to say about that.”
“Damn right you would. Rino’s a good guy. His intentions are good, and he’s not hurting anyone.”
I didn’t say anything. I was trying to piece everything together in my head: Aegir, the gargoyles, the troll, Rino’s ghost…
“Tell me you’re not just planning to hand Rino over to the Feds.”
“Not right away.”
“Excuse me?”
“No.” Feeling the heat of his stare burning into me, I met his eyes. “Rino’s going after Aegir, right?”
Ape nodded.
Crestmohr said damnation spread like fever. Obviously, being branded by Aegir was not a good thing. Not in the least. But he had promised to help me with Anna. I didn’t know what that meant, or even if he was good for his word. The Sidhe were sworn to keep promises, but Aegir wasn’t a Sidhe lord. He was one of the bloody Fallen. They played by their own devilish rules.
Sure, maybe Aegir would make good on his promise to get me closer to Anna, but we hadn’t talked time table. For all I knew, he’d ride me into the ground until I broke and then, if Crestmohr was right, drag my sorry arse to hell with him. Maybe the Big Guy and I weren’t on speaking terms at the moment, and maybe I hated the son of a bitch, but I didn’t think for a second He’d keep Anna out of Heaven. She was far too sweet and innocent to deserve anything else.
If backing Aegir meant I got Anna back for a little bit, but was damned to an eternity without her, I didn’t have to be a scholar to know I’d been tricked. The deal was a mistake. Taking Aegir out would be the only safe bet I had of getting the brand – and its consequent damnation – off of me.
Taking out the gargoyles would buy me time, maybe even give me the information on Anna that he promised. Plus, the gargoyles were an immediate threat. Still, Crestmohr said Aegir’s mark would put me in their crosshairs and the militia was already hunting them. I could let them take care of the beasties. They would certainly do it more efficiently than I could.
What I needed was Rino’s weapon.
“What are you thinking, Swyftt?”
“We back Rino.”
“Seriously? A few seconds ago…”
“Look. Aegir’s one of the Fallen.”
“Point. So what about Stone?”
“I told her I’d call her. Maybe I forget.”
“That’ll go over well,” he said.
“She’s already pissed at me. I don’t think it really fucking matters.”
“Well, if you can help me look through this stuff, we might be able to find something a little faster.”
“What the hell.”
He held up the book that he’d been looking at. “Start with Petrovka’s journal.”
I wasn’t wearing gloves as I took the book from him. It felt like grabbing a live wire, and the sudden, unexpected charge made me step back and drop the book. It clattered to the floor. Loose pages scattered from it.
“What happened?” Ape asked, jumping up. He came around the desk and saw the way the book fell. “Jono…what the hell?”
My hand went to my head. “I don’t know what happened. I grabbed it. It…my ability. I haven’t felt it that strong since…” I thought of the words Aegir said, how my ability had gotten weaker. We’d made a deal. He promised me power. He branded me.
“Oh, fuck me,” I said.
“What?”
“Trust me when I say, you don’t want to know.”
He stared at me in silence. “What the fuck did you do this time?”
I bent over the book and gathered the pages that had scattered across the rug. Each sheet of paper sent another static shock up through my hands. It was like touching the red-hot eye of a stove.
“Jono…”
“Fine,” I said, touching another page and letting go quickly.
“Are you really not going to tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s just my power,” I said. “It’s…raw.”
“Raw?”
“Like skin. It’s overly-sensitive. It burns or tickles or…like ice against your nipples or the head of your dick after sex.”
“What kind of…nevermind, I don’t even want to know.”
“Would you get back to your bloody work already?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to read this sodding journal.”
“Given the reaction you’re getting, are you sure that’s smart?”
“When has that ever factored in?”
I took a deep breath and stared at the book. It sat on the floor in front of me. I steeled my nerves. I was anxious. It had been nearly twenty years since my ability was this strong. I didn’t know what to expect. My hands began to sweat. My heart rate picked up. I felt like a bloody virgin, and a porn star had just stripped naked in front of me.
I took the book in both hands.
Cold, electric current shot up both of my arms to my shoulders and spread throughout my body. It was like plunging into an ice bath. My body quivered, my eyes fluttered, and then everything went black.
30
I opened my eyes and saw the sea. Around me, I heard the waves and the creaking of wood. I felt the firmness of a mast beneath the palm of my hand.
My hand…?
Typically, my visions were from the perspective of an object, not a person. Last I checked, most objects didn’t have hands.
Men mulled around me, moving to and fro, carrying crate
s or nets. They were dressed like sailors in white clothes and jackets. Even though the sun that beat down on us was warm, the sea air was a bracing cold.
The ship I was on was a large, wooden sailing vessel, like a pirate ship, with large white billowy sails propelling us along, churning the sea water. I could feel the spray on my face, smell the salt in the air. It was comforting and familiar.
I tried to will my hands to move, willed myself to look around, to speak, but I couldn’t. Apparently, I wasn’t the driver, just the passenger. It would suffice.
Mostly, the view was of the tossing waves to the right or left of us that stretched on forever in either direction. Before us, in the faint distance, little more than a dark, uneven line on the horizon, was land. We were coming ashore.
“Christoph!”
I turned to see a man with a red mustache and wild hair bounding towards me. He was a little thick around the midsection and wore the puffy white shirt and vest of a man from the eighteenth century. “Christoph,” he said. “We are approaching land.”
“Good,” I said. At least, I think I said it. The words sounded alien in my ears. The voice was weak, a little hoarse, and marked by a thick, Russian accent. I was Christoph Petrovka. “We will enter the Puget Sound and continue south. We are looking for a cave in the coast line. I will tell you more when we are closer.”
“As you wish,” the red-haired man said. “I will tell the captain.”
As the man turned, Petrovka’s voice said, “Simeon.”
The man stopped. “Yes, sir?”
“Has anyone checked on the cargo lately?”
There was hesitation in the man’s voice. “Not yet.”
“Check for me, if you please.”
“Of course,” Simeon said and hurried off.
The old Russian turned to stare back at the sea. Several minutes later, I heard a loud, high squawk. The sound surprised me, but Petrovka didn’t move, as if he’d expected it.
I could feel a smile spread across the old man’s face, and he moved to a bench along the cabin towards the stern and sat down.
Petrovka closed his eyes, and the sea breeze chilled his face while the sun warmed it. It was a welcome feeling, and Petrovka enjoyed it as well.
After some time, Simeon appeared again and roused the old man. “Christoph,” he said. “Wake up. We are near.”
