by Drew Hayes
“They’ve got a big station of these over by the cinnamon roll store,” Albert informed me. “A cheap rental fee and here we go, a faster way to get downtown that won’t draw too much suspicion. We do still have to rein it in, but we can get away with going quicker than we would on foot.”
It had been many a year since I rode a bike; it was a habit I’d given up as soon as driving became an option. Still, it was skill that was famously unforgettable, so it shouldn’t be too hard to get back in the swing of things, especially if it got us to Richard’s—and Gideon—faster. I took one of the bikes from Albert and threw an unsteady leg over the seat.
“Let’s get moving. With these, we should be able to make it no time.”
6.
Forgive the vulgarity, but whoever said that one never forgets how to ride a bike was clearly full of shit. It is extremely possible to forget how to ride a bike, as I demonstrated exceptionally well while Albert and I made our way deeper into Winslow. After a little practice, I could hold the contraption steady while moving, but any of the more advanced techniques (such as turning) required an inordinate amount concentration and often ended in failure. It was only thanks to enhanced balance and reflexes that I avoided any tumbles as I pumped the pedals at dangerous speeds.
If we could have used the main streets, we would have arrived quickly; however, the need for detours added considerable distance to our journey. Inconvenient as it was, there was no way we could risk luring the kinds of people who sprayed gunfire in the streets toward crowds of bar-hopping, downtown civilians. As we rode, I kept my ears perked, listening for any noise that might be out of the ordinary: helicopter blades, a loudly revving engine, gunshots, and the like. The trouble was that downtown Winslow came with lots of sounds all its own, which made my task all the harder.
One thing we did have going for us was that I knew the terrain around Richard’s building quite well. If they were hoping to take the briefcase, and were aware of the direction we were coming from, then there was a section of streets and alleys not too far from our target that would be perfect to lay an ambush in. I should know: I’d been caught by one there a few years earlier. Only that time, I’d been the one seeking protection, not trying to fend off criminals from getting hold of a powerful artifact. What I wouldn’t have given to be faced with merely another disgruntled vampire hunter this time around.
The trouble was that the area with the alley was not, in fact, the sole option for a place to lie in wait. It would also be possible to mount an assault outside of Richard’s building; a building that hosted a club in the basement on the weekend; a club that would be packed, with people still in line, waiting to get in despite the late hour. True, most of those patrons would be therians, and therefore not bothered by such mundane things as firearms, but we didn’t know that that would be true for everyone, or that the bullets being used might not include silver. Our enemies knew that they were dealing with undead, so it was a possibility.
If we didn’t give them a chance to spring their trap prior to our arrival at the entrance to the club, we’d be putting innocent lives at risk. When viewed through that lens, it made our decision rather easy. We had to give them the chance to ambush us so they wouldn’t be able to or tempted to try again outside of Richard’s building.
Albert and I readied ourselves as we pedaled our bikes down the final turn, nearing the alley where we suspected an attack would originate from. As it turned out, we were wrong.
The attack actually came slightly earlier than expected, from one of the alleys I’d thought would be too narrow to host a group. I’d been right, but that didn’t stop them from sticking a single woman with an automatic weapon there to wait for us. Bullets whizzed past as we both poured on the speed, one of them catching my rear tire. I could feel it give, and hopped off the bike without delay as it crashed in a heap. That was fine; we were just about done with those, anyway. From the alley where we’d expected the attack to take place, a squad of goons stepped out, more hisses passing between them.
Now, close up, I could see there were other unique things about these people: scales along their temples and hands, a yellow tint to their eyes, minor forks in their tongues when they spoke. Snake-people? Or therians who were reptile-based and in their half-breed form? There was no telling with the information I had on hand. All we knew for certain was that they wanted the Jewel of Temecula and were clearly motivated to get it. Given the situation before us, there was really only one option left.
“Hang on!” I held up my hands, still clutching tight to the briefcase, as Albert skidded to a stop. We were facing a row of guns, and I could hear the woman from the prior alley moving into position to flank us. Albert’s wall wouldn’t work this time; we’d be taking fire from both sides. “We’ve been at this for hours, and it keeps ending poorly for both sides, so what do you say we try talking instead?”
“Very well.” One of the thieves stepped forward, a bald one with a tattoo that led from his collar up to his temple-scales. To my surprise, there was no hint of hiss or sibilance when he spoke; perhaps it had been silly to expect such things in the first place.
There was, however, some showmanship as he raised his weapon and took a very pointed aim right at me. “We didn’t realize the couriers were undead when we first started chasing you, but after that gas station business, we wised up, switched over to silver-based bullets. So why don’t you go ahead and toss that briefcase to the ground, and maybe you’ll walk away with all your limbs attached. How’s that for talking?”
“Pretty good. Of course, generally, when one opens a dialogue, they do so with the hope of truthful exchange. Lying is not a great way to open things up.” I tilted my head back toward the woman who’d shot my tire. “Silver has a distinct smell, which none of her bullets gave off, and I don’t get any stray whiffs coming from yours, either. I know agents have a way of masking that smell unless it’s up close, and of course, there are magical options, but I doubt you have access to either, or that you would use them to stop two people who already know you’re attacking. Add on that you’re all clearly parahumans, as well, and the odds of you keeping your own weakness on hand drop even more dramatically.”
There was a stretch of silence between us before the gunman shifted his aim, albeit slightly. “I guess you got me on that one. How about this, then? Drop the briefcase, or I’ll fire so many rounds into your head that it will absolutely count as decapitation, then I’ll leave you in the sun for good measure.”
“See, now that, I believed.” My calm demeanor was likely infuriating to this man. Those with power generally bucked when they met someone who didn’t kneel or cower. In other circumstances, I would have been quite terrified, and in truth, I was hiding more than a modicum of fear as we faced off. I did have one thing to take comfort in, though: the sound of almost silent—virtually inaudible without the aid of vampire hearing—footsteps on the nearby roofs.
You see, the upside to having been attacked around this area before wasn’t just that Albert and I knew where to expect it. We were also able to share that information, and in taking a circuitous route, we’d ensured that our allies had ample time to get into position. A text with a quick reminder and a general location had been more than enough to make sure they knew where to wait.
“Would you like to hear my counteroffer?” I asked, patient and accommodating despite the gun leveled at my head. “I’ve informed my bodyguard that I’d like you to be taken in alive. If you set your guns down now, I promise to capture you with neither wounds nor injury. But if you insist on taking this to the point of violence, I cannot make the same assurances. Some injury will likely prove necessary in your subduing. For your own sake, I urge you to take the peaceful option. Throw down your weapons, and let’s see no more blood spilled tonight.”
The thieves’ representative took a step forward, his finger inching toward the trigger. “You’re going to need more than a zombie with a sharp sword to take down all of us.”
“
Do not underestimate what this zombie can do.” There may have been a touch more firmness to my voice than was strictly necessary, but after what I’d seen Albert do that night, there was no way I’d allow someone to speak down to him. “Besides, Albert here is my friend, not my bodyguard. You’ll meet my bodyguard right about . . . now.”
On my cue, Albert threw up the barrier between us and the bulk of the gang. I dropped low, avoiding a spray of gunfire from behind as I leapt backward, taking another bullet in the shoulder for my trouble, but easily getting my hands on our rear-attacker’s weapon. I jerked it easily from her hands, hurling it up onto the nearest roof, where it wouldn’t be readily accessible in a critical moment. She attempted to go for a knife, but whatever these creatures were, they didn’t match the raw power and speed of a vampire, even one using only a single hand. I took her blade from her and threw it away, as well. That led to her going for a pistol in her boot, which I snatched and tossed once more. Whether she was out of weapons or the will to fight, I don’t know, but she finally stopped trying to pull out her arsenal.
“Big vampire, taking on one of us. Once that barrier drops, the others will rush over you like a coming tide.”
Enough time had passed, but I listened carefully just to be sure. “Albert, go ahead and take down the barrier. Let’s see what that tide brings in.”
The dark wall of energy faded to reveal almost the entire gang lying on the ground. I could make out a few snapped bones and smell a fair amount of blood, but everyone’s hearts seemed to still be beating. Lillian was making her way around with some zip ties—I had no idea where those had come from—cuffing wrists together as she went.
Only the bald thief who’d been talking was still conscious, though he was on his knees before Deborah, who was holding tightly to his skull with a single hand. I already knew that, with a simple squeeze, she could turn his brain into paste, and that she would do so without hesitation if she deemed it necessary. Deborah wasn’t especially cruel or callous, like some of the vampires I’d met; she was pragmatic. If there was a bloodless solution, that was fine, and if murder was needed, she would accommodate that, too. In a way, that attitude scared me more than the over-the-top madness of Quinn ever had.
“She is my bodyguard,” I explained to both the flummoxed woman I’d disarmed and the bleeding thief whose life was literally in Deborah’s hand. “And she is incredible at her job, as you can see. Don’t worry, though. Despite what you’ve done tonight, I asked her not to kill anyone unless it was absolutely necessary.” In truth, I’d added no such addendum—I just said don’t kill. But making them sweat a little could smooth out the rest of this process.
“We fired a missile at you, shot at you, and were planning an ambush you obviously knew about, and you still ordered her to be nonlethal? You know, I’d heard there was some soft vampire running a crew around here, but this is just too much.” A hissing snicker came from his throat, and I noticed a careful look in Deborah’s eyes.
This was a moment of importance. Whatever happened here would ripple outward, affecting my clan’s reputation. If we let them live, they would spread that tale. If we killed them all, rumors of that would trickle out, too. I couldn’t let word go around that the House of Fred was weak; that was dangerous enough on its own, and given that I was already under evaluation by the Blood Council, it could very well be a death sentence. Nevertheless, I wasn’t going to have them all slaughtered, either. If it was death or turning into a monster, I would choose death. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t use someone else’s reputation to my advantage.
“You think I’m soft? Well, I suppose that’s true. As you can see, I’m not really the one to get my hands dirty. In this case, however, I think even one of your intellect can grasp the necessity of my mercy. As you well know, this briefcase isn’t actually mine.” I held it aloft, reminding him of what this night was truly about.
“I’m but a mere courier, an escrow holder, for the King of the West. Now, you think letting you all live is me being gentle, when in fact, it might be the cruelest thing I could do. Consider the situation fully: you tried to steal from a dragon, and a very powerful one, at that. Do you think he’ll be pleased if I show up with a wagon of corpses? Certainly not. Gideon likes to dole out his own punishments. No, I’m not keeping you alive out of kindness. I’m doing it because the King of the West will react far more favorably if I arrive with captive thieves. When he’s finished passing judgment on your crimes, feel free to tell as many people as you like about how ‘soft’ the House of Fred is. Those of you who can still speak, I mean.”
It was, in a way, passing the buck, but politics were as much a part of the parahuman world as blood-sucking and magic. Handing over one’s responsibility to a higher-up was certainly understandable, especially when that person was as powerful as Gideon. I’d have to make a call before we got there to ensure that Arch and the Agency knew that we’d be turning over prisoners, so Gideon didn’t actually do anything too bad to them. I hoped he wouldn’t, at least, not with Agency oversight as a mitigating factor. Then again, I didn’t really know what Gideon’s rights were in this situation. It was entirely true that, despite my best efforts, every threat I’d just made could very well come true. Maybe if we had some time to talk during the hand-off, I could convince him to show mercy.
First things first, though. We still had a briefcase to deliver.
7.
I left Deborah and Lillian with the gang of snake-people for several reasons. It was only prudent to have someone watching over them until they were in more official custody, for one. Keeping some distance between Deborah and Gideon was another. Most crucially, though, I left them behind simply because I had to. Gideon was an incredibly powerful dragon, and as such, he created an aura that turned vampires into a cowering mess. It was a defense mechanism, one I wasn’t even sure he could control if he wanted to. The only reason I was immune was that he’d given me a drop of his blood. I didn’t fully comprehend why that negated the aura, but when dealing with magic, one soon learns not to dig too deeply unless they’re in the mood for a splitting headache and less than helpful attempts at explanation.
Getting in the building was almost worryingly easy; no sooner had we begun to approach than a crew of therians swept in from the shadows, ushering us past the front door and into an elevator. One of them even pushed the button for us before stepping back to allow the doors to close. We made our way up in silence, though not all the way to Richard’s home at the very top of the building. Instead, we stopped several floors lower, on the level where Gideon held his office. It hadn’t always been a space that belonged to the King of the West. In fact, it was the location another dragon had rented out to store the cage that had briefly kept Gideon captive. That was why he’d started using it, a not-so-subtle reminder that no matter who went against him, the King of the West always won out in the end.
With Albert at my side, I gave a quick knock, and then opened the door. Perhaps it was a tad rude, but I was eager to have the briefcase out of my hand.
“You’re running behind. I assume there was trouble?” Gideon didn’t sound especially concerned as he sat at his desk. A stack of briefcases identical to ours was piled up next to it. I realized he looked older than when I’d seen him last, though not aged to adulthood; he was showing what would have been a normal amount of growth for a child of his supposed age. It made sense. He was aging himself alongside Sally, and she wouldn’t be a child forever. In a few years, we might even have to deal with a teenage version of Gideon. I wondered if I could take a seven-year sabbatical to Boarback, Texas while he was going through that phase.
“There was indeed quite a large amount of trouble, some of which still needs to be dealt with. You’ll know the protocol for that better than I do.”
I’ll spare you all the retelling of the story you’ve just read. It wasn’t as thorough, anyway, since I was too flustered from nerves to properly recall each detail. The one key feature I will note was that Gideo
n seemed utterly unsurprised at every turn; not even the part with the exploding SUV got much more than a snicker. When I wrapped things up, he calmly stepped away from his desk and walked over, sniffing once, before holding out his hand. I started to hand over the briefcase, but Gideon shook his head.
“Sebastian gave you a card, didn’t he? Hand it to me.”
I don’t see any shame in admitting how confused I was as I dug into my pocket and produced the slender white card, depositing it in Gideon’s waiting hand. He took a deep sniff of the material and nodded. “Clever. Serpentiles are more cunning than most parahumans give them credit for. I’ll have to let Sebastian know his card-printer has been compromised. Someone slipped a very subtle enchantment on this . . . on all of Sebastian’s cards, I’d wager. If you know a renowned buyer is making moves for an artifact you want, and you’ve got the patience for a long game, that’s a crafty way to ensure you can track the delivery.”
“Wait, how would they have known Fred would have one of Sebastian’s cards?” Albert asked.
“Because Sebastian is relentless in pursuing new business. Ensuring that no one gets away without a card is, well, Sebastian’s calling card.” Gideon tapped one finger to the white rectangle and it exploded into a flare of green flame before burning away to nothing. “Now, I will take the briefcase.”
Handing it over was like chucking off a hundred-pound weight. I felt lighter the moment it left my hand. Gideon walked the case over to his desk, popped it open, and pulled out a glowing purple gem roughly half the size of my fist. It radiated power, some of it flickering deep within Gideon’s eyes, yet neither Albert nor I could feel so much as a twinge coming from it. Whatever magic the Jewel of Temecula held, it was exclusively meant for the living.
“Well done, Fletcher Accounting Services. Your payment for tonight will be deposited first thing in the morning. I’ll need to send Sebastian the rest of his fee, as well, along with a warning about the cards. Oh, and you needn’t worry about the serpentiles. I’ll have Richard’s people scoop them up for me. By the time you get downstairs, your friends should be freed up.”
