Vengeance Moon

by Lee Roland

  “Darrow.” Étienne acknowledged him.

  Darrow nodded. They exchanged a look, one that said more than words. There was camaraderie there, a closeness I had heard in my father’s voice when he spoke of his old army buddies. Once a year, he closed his restaurant and they all came to party and talk about the old days. Mother and I were forbidden to attend.

  Darrow stared at the men on the mat and shook his head.

  “Bad, huh?” Étienne said.

  “Worse.” Darrow sighed. “All right, you incompetent assholes,” he shouted at the men on the mat. “Cut loose and let someone else try.”

  The two men obeyed promptly. As they broke, another lumbered onto the mat. This one had a great hulking body balanced on tree-trunk legs and surprisingly small feet. His unnaturally flat nose suggested that someone had seriously objected to his face at one time. His bald head had a few dents, too. He scanned those watching him with contempt—and challenge. His gaze slid over me, stopped for a moment, probably on Spot. I doubt a mere woman would be considered a threat. I would’ve loved to sic Eunice on him.

  “All right,” Darrow said. “Somebody with brains want to take Hogg down?”

  “Hogg?” I glanced at Étienne. “You’re kidding.”

  He grinned. “Looks can fool. Hogg has two things going for him. Size and the fact that he actually reached the fourth grade in school.”

  “A genius, huh?”

  “Of course, he’s wanted in Kansas for the murders of his girlfriend and her mother, in Texas for robbery with injuries, and in Tennessee for vehicular homicide.”

  I stared at him, more than a little appalled. “Why do you—”

  “Don’t ask. A little advice. Some of these men are better than others, but there are no innocents here.”

  “Not even yourself?”

  He simply shook his head.

  I did wonder why he had offered such information, unless it was a warning.

  Étienne chuckled and slid an arm around my shoulder. I didn’t know if he meant it as an intimate gesture or a warning to the men not to mess with me. I let it be.

  A man stepped onto the mat, a lean man with quickness to him that I admired. He and Hogg circled, looking for the advantage. Hogg made short sideways steps on those small feet. He lifted each foot completely off the ground with each step. Every time he lifted one, he became vulnerable. If his opponent watched those steps, caught him at just the right moment. But he didn’t. He lashed out and caught Hogg in his massive chest with a foot, but Hogg had both feet on the ground at impact. All he had to do was lean forward and grab. He used his weight, barreled forward, and fell on his unbalanced opponent. It was over then. The same scenario played out with the next one, and it was easy to see that in hand-to-hand, Hogg had only one move: use the solid mass of his body to overcome his opponents.

  “May I try? Please?” I asked Étienne.

  He frowned. “What? No. If you get hurt, I’ll have to kill Hogg. And Michael will kill me.”

  “I’ll be okay.” I stood and made a great show of setting Spot on the bleacher seat, stripping off my jacket, and removing my weapons.

  Etienne, in spite of his protest, didn’t try to stop me.

  I stepped onto the mat.

  Hogg stared in surprise. Then he laughed.

  “Étienne!” Hogg shouted. “You gonna send your little girlfriend in? I hurt her and you shoot me, right? You come fight, bastard.” He shook his fist at Étienne.

  Étienne shrugged. His face remained calm.

  “Come on, Hogg.” I smiled at him. “You’re not scared of a girl, are you?” I wanted to get him pissed. He’d make mistakes. “I promise not to hurt you too much.”

  Hogg sneered. “I don’t like women.”

  “Oh, you like boys, then? Wouldn’t have thought that, but whatever gets it up . . . right?”

  The men around us snickered.

  Hogg didn’t wait. He charged. I wasn’t there when he arrived. Twice, he tried the same move. Twice, I dodged him. Rage had him huffing and blowing like a sounding whale.

  “You gonna run, whore?” He’d stopped charging and gone to his weight-shifting mode, exaggerating like a sumo wrestler, actually lifting his feet off the mat. My legs were longer than his.

  Timing and speed. Nothing more. As he began to lift his right foot, I kicked him in the face. He went down with a grunt, ass first, then on his back. He struggled to rise, but couldn’t. He lay there, arms and legs pumping, choking on blood. I guess I’d flattened his nose a little too much.

  I planted my hands on my hips. “I guess someone needs to roll him over. Wouldn’t want him to suffocate.” I glanced around at the surprised faces. “Would we? Want him to suffocate?”

  No one moved. Finally, Darrow walked over to Hogg, grabbed him with his good hand, and jerked him onto his side. Blood ran out of Hogg’s mouth, but he breathed again.

  Darrow came to me. “Now, tell them how you did that.” He nodded at the men, all staring avidly at me.

  I explained about watching the movements of your opponent, how Hogg did his little step-step, and how I hit him at the right time.

  “I saw that part.” He shook his head. “You’re too fast. No . . . no human is that fast. You gonna come to work here?” Darrow asked.

  “Nope. I have a job.”

  “She works for the Golden Boy.” Étienne approached. He threw an arm around me and hugged me to him. “Apparently he has better fringe benefits. Not that she’s ever tried any of mine. I guess I’m not pretty enough.”

  That got him a laugh from the boys.

  I didn’t reply. I escaped from his encircling arm, slipped on my gun, and strapped on the knives. Spot climbed up to ride on my shoulder. Étienne watched me, smiling.

  “Where can I take you?” he asked.

  “Harry’s.” His comment had pissed me off. Was I feeling protective of my relationship with Michael?

  We were walking away when I heard the stomp of feet behind me. I turned to see Hogg racing toward me, knife in hand. Before I could move, Spot lifted off. He landed on Hogg’s head.

  Hogg screamed and flailed his arms as Eunice had, trying to catch Spot.

  Spot flew away to land on the bleachers. Something was locked in his teeth.

  Hogg had dropped the knife and clutched his head, still screaming and choking. He turned in a circle as if desperate to ward off an attacker who had already gone.

  I hurried to Spot. An ear dangled from his teeth.

  I shook my finger at him. “Spit that thing out! It might poison you.”

  Spot dropped the ear.

  Behind me, I could hear Étienne laughing. He came and slid an arm in mine. “Let’s go. I’ve had all the entertainment I can stand for the day.”

  Spot flew to my shoulder.

  Étienne didn’t speak much on the way back to River Street, but he smiled occasionally.

  I didn’t talk either. My mind turned to Kenny. He obviously knew something. I wanted to talk to him again, preferably without Étienne around. Even after our little bonding session at the warehouse, I didn’t fully trust him.

  Étienne stopped in front of Harry’s.

  “Thank you for taking me to him,” I said.

  “You’re welcome. Madeline, please be careful. Not everything here is as it seems . . .”

  “I know.”

  He nodded. I climbed out and he drove away.

  I went upstairs to check on Grace. Spot went briefly to her but then headed out the window. I peered out to the street and saw Hildy, Eunice, and Lillian standing outside.

  I had to face them sooner or later. I headed downstairs and crossed the street to the Armory—and walked into an argument.

  “Go back to Justice,” Hildy shouted at Eunice and Lillian. “You’re messing things up here. There’s a balance here—” She stopped when she saw me.

  All three of them turned their attention to me and glared, but I ignored it. “What balance, Hildy?”

  Hildy grunted.
“You can’t go around playing cops in the Barrows. You start a war down here, people start to pay attention. Sooner or later . . .”

  Étienne had said that Eunice and Lillian had been killing pimps and Bastinados.

  “Your so-called balance is weighed in favor of evil,” Eunice said.

  Lillian nodded in agreement. “Evil is using the Mother’s cloak of forgetfulness to thrive. It is hiding people and terrible deeds. We will right that balance. There will be no war. If the Earth Mother denies these good people the benefit of the law just because they live in the Barrows, we will provide it.”

  I sighed in relief. At least this wasn’t about me. I wouldn’t interfere. The faint odor of Spot’s earlier deposit still circulated in the air, along with the cloying sweetness of air fresheners. It was past time to randomly search for the Portal. If it was not used on the solstice, I would have more time to look. If it was used, it would be in the Zombie Zone tomorrow at midnight, the beginning of the solstice. I quietly left and walked to the Archangel, where Michael waited for me.

  Tomorrow would bring disaster or victory, and would probably change us all.

  Chapter 33

  June 25—Dark Moon Solstice

  The morning dawned bright and warm, approaching the summer yet to come. I left Michael to his business close to noon and walked to the Armory. For the first time in my life, I understood the meaning of the word sated. Michael and I had made love last night until I fell exhausted into a deep, dreamless sleep. It was ever surprising to be lost in pleasure rather than violence and vengeance.

  “Tonight begins the solstice,” Hildy snarled at me as I walked through the door. “The dark moon is rising. You don’t have the Portal.”

  “I know.”

  “No, you haven’t searched for it.” Hildy smacked her hand down on the counter. “You’ve been too busy fucking that demon.”

  “Hildy!” Lillian came from the back room. “Leave her alone.”

  Eunice followed Lillian, but said nothing.

  I ignored Hildy and her opinion. I couldn’t tell her everything. I didn’t have time. I had something I needed to do. “Lillian, will you drive me to Abigail’s house? I need to have a serious discussion with the witch.”

  “Yes,” Lillian said. “But Eunice and I are going with you.”

  Oh, this would be good.

  Abigail sighed when she saw the Sisters, but she allowed us to enter. She invited us to sit and brewed tea. The kitchen was big and warm and the table we sat at was covered with a sky-blue cloth. The air was filled with the scent of dried flowers hanging from a rack by the windows hung with pure white lace curtains.

  While the tea brewed, Eunice moped and stared at the wall and Lillian sat, hands gracefully folded in her lap, quiet as a nun.

  “What brings you here?” Abigail asked as she sat with her own tea.

  I decided to be completely honest. We had no time for anything else. “I found my third killer yesterday.”

  They said nothing. All watched me with interest.

  “I didn’t kill him.” To my surprise, I’d yet to have regrets about that action.

  “Of course you didn’t kill him,” Lillian said. She lifted the teacup and smiled.

  “We found him two days ago.” Eunice stretched out her legs. “Pitiful bastard.”

  “You didn’t tell me!” I sat up straight and almost spilled my tea.

  “No. It’s your mission, not ours.” Eunice picked up her own cup. It seemed delicate in her thick fingers, but she handled it easily.

  “Bullshit! You and Lillian interfere when you get damned good and ready.”

  Lillian fiddled with her cup, an edgy gesture unsuited to the Sister I had known. “Madeline, when Mother Evelyn sat in the Judgment Room and gave you permission to kill, I don’t think I could have been more surprised and furious.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Lillian shook her head. “Killing in vengeance is wrong, no matter what the circumstances. Your need for it is an aberration, set on you by magic. It was our goal at Justice to break you of it. Then Evelyn gave you the freedom to negate all of our years of hard work.”

  “Why did you spare him?” Eunice asked.

  “The man who killed my parents no longer exists. Something has burned his mind away. I decided it wasn’t worth it.”

  Lillian grabbed me and hugged me. Tears glimmered in her eyes. She was a deadly cold Sister of Justice, but not unfeeling, apparently. Eunice snatched me away from her. She hugged me so tight I gasped for breath.

  “Eunice, I need my rib cage unbroken, if you don’t mind.”

  She released me but still held on. “Good. You’ll make it.”

  “Make what?”

  Lillian grasped my hand. “We are killers. Cold as winter on the tallest mountain. We go where we are told. We kill when we are told. We hate it. If we didn’t hate it, we would not have been permitted to take our vows. We did not want Sisterhood for you.” She released my hand and smoothed the tablecloth by her cup. “Now, let us return to your mission. Perhaps Abigail can advise us.”

  That sounded good to me. “Oh, yes. And would it be too much to ask for everyone to tell the truth?” I leaned forward and spoke directly to Abigail. “I’m looking for a stone called the Portal. Do you know what it is?”

  The calm on Abigail’s face disappeared in a flash. Her eyes narrowed and I got the uneasy feeling that she might be preparing to blast something—or someone.

  “Yes. I know of the Portal. Why do you ask?” Abigail had one hand on the table clenched into a fist. Her magic shifted and stirred around her like a fog creeping into the woods.

  “The Portal is in the Barrows.”

  Abigail nodded. “The Portal is a powerful talisman from another world. No one knows how it came here. It has some unique properties. The Barrows is the worst place it could be.”

  She hesitated as if determining if she should continue. “The Portal draws power from that other world, its home world. Not earth magic.”

  “Witches can use it?” I shifted in my chair uncomfortably.

  “Yes. But the Portal is incredibly difficult to use,” Abigail said. “Not many witches have the ability, and it takes years to learn. The witch who originally found it a thousand years ago kept it long enough to create chaos. She opened multiple doors to other worlds, let all manner of creatures come in. Once it was retrieved from her, the Mother gave it to different witches to protect, no longer than a year each, to hide it and keep it safe. By allowing it to remain with one of us for only a short period, the world was kept safe from harm.”

  The puzzle pieces now moved in my mind. Curves and lines came together into a whole, a complete picture. “And all those witches gave it up when the time came?”

  “Yes.” Abigail relaxed a little. “Except for one, about twenty years ago, who fell under its curse. She decided it was hers and she would not return it.” She glanced at Eunice and Evelyn. “The Sisters sent a Triad to retrieve it. The Triad failed. The witch used the Portal against them.”

  Eunice’s jaw tightened and Lillian bowed her head.

  Abigail continued. “Two Triads were sent the second time, armed with the Morié and Solaire. The witch escaped, but she had to leave the Portal behind. To my knowledge, that witch has not been found. She won’t be, unless she uses earth magic, and as far as I know, she has not. The Mother keeps track of us through our use of earth magic. If a witch doesn’t use earth magic, she can hide—for a while.

  “Once the Portal was retrieved, we continued to pass it on between different witches, but more secretly. Few knew who had it at any given time.”

  “Moving it so the witch who wanted to keep it couldn’t find it,” I whispered.

  Some things that seemed obvious could not possibly be. Alien magic. A witch who seemed to be in hiding. My mind raced. The disguised paintings at the River Street Café. The waiters who trembled in fear. A body aging and warped by the misuse of magic.

  Oonagh.


  Her so-called feeble attempts to live. Kenny’s babbling and hatred of witches. It all pointed to her. Could the witch who orchestrated my parents’ deaths be here in the Barrows?

  Abigail watched me with sad eyes. I realized she knew far more than I thought. “When a witch has the Portal on her person, the Earth Mother not only can’t see it—she can’t see the witch. The magic in the Portal blinds her. And because of the other-world magic in the Portal, the witch carrying it cannot touch or use earth magic.”

  A tight knot formed in my stomach. I knew what had happened to my mother.

  “Madeline?” Lillian laid a hand on my arm.

  Eunice leaned forward. “You’re as white as those curtains on the window, girl.”

  “My mother died because she was wearing the Portal as jewelry. When they came in, they kept her from taking it off. She couldn’t call on the earth magic to save herself.” The realization stunned me. All these years, I had blamed the Earth Mother for not coming to my mother’s aid.

  Abigail nodded. “Oh, my dear. Yes, that is a possibility.” Sympathy rolled off her in great waves.

  Kenny had told me the truth. He had been instructed to prevent my mother from removing the Portal. When he finished with her, he stole it from her body. He’d run to escape the witch who had sent him to kill her. I didn’t know why he’d kept it, and I doubt he could tell me. Had he seen the value in it? Had the Portal so mesmerized him? Pieces of the puzzle were missing. Deep agony filled me, but I forced it down.

  Abigail cleared her throat, and I realized she was close to tears. My mother and father died because of my mother’s vanity. I loved her still, but oh, how much tragedy came from that one deadly sin. She could’ve hidden the Portal. She didn’t have to wear it.

  “There is another reason a witch may keep the Portal for only a year,” Abigail said. “If a human carries it for a time, they go insane. The same is true for a witch. It takes longer for a witch, but madness will strike her eventually, too. Holding the Portal also takes a physical toll on its keeper.”