Havoc Rising

by Brian S. Leon

  As I was wrapping up my statement, a patrolman ran over to the detective and whispered in his ear. Detective Patience sighed with exaggerated exasperation. Whatever had been said, he was done with me. Before he left, he gave me the usual speech about being in touch and not leaving town without letting them know and needing my gun for ballistics purposes. I thought about how many of the damned guns I went through on a monthly basis, and I wondered whether SIG Sauer had a frequent-buyer’s program.

  The cop left, and Agent Wright came back over, arms folded across her chest and a tight set to her lips and jaw. She leaned on the car next to me and didn’t say a word.

  After an awkward two minutes of silence, I finally spoke. “Can we go get something to eat now?” My stomach growled audibly.

  “Yeah, I suppose so. Let me just tell the OIC you’re leaving with me.”

  I didn’t move while she left to find the officer in charge. I wasn’t really sure how long it took her. One of the downsides of being faster and stronger than normal was that while I had the stamina to match, when I hit a wall, I hit it hard. As of about an hour earlier, I’d not only hit the wall, but I’d crashed right through it. I needed food and sleep, and I needed them soon. Plus, for some reason I felt like a total rookie around Sarah.

  I was so out of it that I nearly jumped out of my skin when she snuck up on me to let me know we could go.

  “Jeez, jumpy much?” She laughed.

  “Just tired and hungry. Food, now,” I practically squeaked, completely embarrassed she’d caught me off guard.

  “There’s a pizza place right down the street. We’ll have to take a different car since mine is now evidence in a shootout. I’ve arranged to borrow one of the unmarked police cars.” She pointed up Rutland beyond the yellow crime-scene tape.

  “Outstanding.”

  “While we’re eating,” she said as we walked, “maybe you can tell me why I have a description of someone who matches you at the Red Hook Houses earlier today snooping around an apartment with two mutilated bodies in it.”

  Suddenly I didn’t feel so hungry anymore.

  The pizza place was little more than a hole-in-the-wall local shop that was set up mostly for carryout orders with the full kitchen behind the counter. Fortunately, they had a single table up front near the entrance, and it was available, probably because it was close to midnight. The smells of tomato sauce, pepperoni, and baking bread permeated the small space, sending my stomach into spasms of expectation.

  Ordering the third large pizza seemed to freak her out, but not nearly as much as when I finished it. She stared at me with wide eyes, starting about halfway through the second pie, and even the portly guy behind the counter was impressed. My heightened strength and speed came at the cost of an increased metabolism, so when I went without eating for a while, I tended to binge. It was even more extreme when compared to Sarah, who ate no more than two slices in total after she’d picked all the meat off them.

  I started to feel a bit better and could finally concentrate on what she was saying. I tuned in to the middle of a story about how she’d decided she wanted to join DHS, and I became embarrassed about missing so much of her story so far. I thought it had something to do with being bothered by flies eating alphabet soup. I focused intently on what she was saying from that point on.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been talking incessantly for the last half hour, haven’t I?” she said sheepishly. “I usually don’t go on like that. You’re looking better. That must have really shaken you up.”

  I nearly choked on the slice I was eating. “Nah, I was just really hungry. I haven’t had time to eat today,” I said between bites. “Or yesterday.” I didn’t mention that being attacked by milquetoast mortals, even armed ones, barely even raised my pulse. Somehow, I thought it would come off as a tad arrogant.

  “Your face and hands look bad. Maybe you should have had the paramedics take a look at you.” She reached out to touch the scabby cut across my cheek and ear.

  I liked the feel of her hand on my face. It felt good to be touched. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll be even better as soon as I get a little rest,” I said, continuing to eat.

  “So,” she said staring down at the table. “Want to tell me about the Red Hook Houses and a couple of mutilated bodies?”

  I put down the slice of pizza I was picking at, exhaled, and stared absentmindedly at the stock photos of Italy on the wall space near the entrance. There was no point in lying about it, though there were a few details I figured I could leave out.

  I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out Maurice Ingram’s wallet, placed it on the table, and slid it across to her. She picked it up and examined its contents.

  “That was in the male victim’s pants,” I said. “I think it’s the oldest kid in the family that lives across the hall from the apartment his body’s in. Young kid that lives there said his brother was missing. I didn’t want him to find out on his own.”

  “So you were there?” she asked, sitting back hard in her seat.

  “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t call you first, but I was following a lead. I think that apartment is the bomber’s.” I picked over the remnants of the third pizza.

  Sarah just sat there in silence for a few long minutes. I was afraid to make eye contact, so I just kept playing with a leftover crust on my plate.

  Finally, she spoke. “You should’ve called me.” It wasn’t the admonition of a cop but rather one that suggested I’d let her down personally.

  I nodded. “You’re right, and I’m sorry, but once I saw the bodies, I figured it would be most expedient to get the hell out of there.”

  “You’re lucky the ME says the bodies have been dead for at least twenty-four hours, or I’d have no choice but to haul you in as a person of interest,” she said, her tone more stern. “I agreed to work with you as a favor to my boss, who owed a favor to the Metis Foundation, but if this is the way you guys operate, I’ll tell you right now you won’t be working with me again.” She lowered her voice and jabbed her finger at the table as she said it. “Two-way street, Steve. I help you, you help me.”

  I couldn’t say anything. She was right, but the truth was she had no idea what this whole situation was about. I probably should have called her immediately upon finding the bodies, but being run over by a Ghilan was kind of an extenuating circumstance and one that was hard to explain to mundanes. Still, she was just trying to do her job, and I’d betrayed her trust.

  “I promise if we ever work together in the future, I won’t do that again,” I said finally, meeting her gaze. “Full disclosure.” I raised my hand to swear.

  I was torn about saying that because I knew it was a lie. I’d never be able to tell her everything, but I could tell her what she needed to know. That would have to be good enough. I yawned, suddenly very tired and not just physically.

  “Ah, it’s late,” Sarah said. “Did you still want to go over to the Red Hook Houses with me? I need to check it out if it was the bomber’s residence.”

  Her eyes softened, and the rigid set to her jaw melted away as she relaxed, and I had to smile. She grinned in return. If I weren’t so tired, I might have jumped her right there. I’d say it was the gentleman in me that prevailed, but it was more likely the scared schoolboy.

  “I tell you what: just drop me back by the hotel,” I said. “You can go check out the Red Hook residences without me. I’m supposed to be flying out tomorrow. Just do me a favor, and watch your back. This case is far more than what it appears.”

  “I’m always careful, but there are over two hundred law enforcement officers from at least five different agencies involved in this. Why should I be singled out?”

  “I’m not saying they’ll target you specifically—just that they may target all of you or any one of you who gets too close. Just keep your head on a swivel is all I’m sa
ying.” I wiped my mouth on a napkin and then yawned again.

  The expression on her face was a cross between confusion and worry. She either thought I had a concussion or that I was nuts. Given my present state, I was hoping she thought I was just concussed. Whatever. She didn’t need to get dragged any further into this thing.

  My problem was that whoever was behind this mess knew I was involved, and by now, they probably knew who I really was. My life was going to get a lot more hectic. Another thing that kept bugging me was how whoever was behind all this had found me so fast. They might have had the bomber’s apartment under surveillance, but how did they find me at my lodging?

  “Yeah, I should get moving,” she said, frowning slightly.

  Apparently, Agent Wright took my pensive moment and yawning as a sign of boredom. “Sorry, I’m just really worn out,” I said.

  “I understand.” She threw seventy-five dollars onto the table. “I’ve never spent that much at a pizzeria before.”

  I finally took in the breadth of the carnage. The serving tray next to our table was covered in empty pizza trays and dishes. Not to mention that I was covered in crumbs. Oops. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I didn’t mean to eat this much. Let me pay for it—I insist.”

  “Nope, I owed you,” she said laughing. “Besides, a dinner in the city would have cost twice as much for a third the food. I’d just like to know how you keep the weight off,” she said, joking, as we walked out to her car.

  If she only knew…

  “Next time is on me, then,” I said, smiling.

  She nodded, smiling back as she tucked her hair behind her ear. My smile broadened.

  On the street, I began to feel a bit exposed. I’d left my vest in Wright’s trunk to avoid coming off as a total paranoid delusional and to keep from scaring civilians. But I’d been in way too many scrapes in my life to ignore that feeling I got in the pit of my stomach when bad things were about to happen.

  Something caught my attention as we walked: a massive bird that resembled a gigantic black owl was perched on a rooftop across the street. Not that there weren’t owls around New York City, but this bird was about the size of small child, maybe four feet tall. Odder still was that even though it was in shadow, I could see its massive yellow eyes following us. Whatever it was, it wasn’t normal.

  When we got to the car, I walked around to the back and asked to get my vest out of the trunk. Wright obliged, but the set of her lips and the stiff way she shuffled through the keys indicated that she was annoyed. Once the trunk was open and partially blocking us from the owl’s view, I quietly asked her for her sidearm.

  “What? Why?”

  “Just trust me. Give me your damned sidearm,” I snapped.

  I didn’t want to tell her about the mammoth bird across the street, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t just hunting for stray cats. She reluctantly handed her gun to me. I took the safety off and opened the slide to see if a round was chambered. It wasn’t. Clearly, she wasn’t required to use it much.

  I quietly chambered a round and brought the gun to bear on the last place I had seen the shadowy bird, surprising Agent Wright. The damned thing was gone. I checked the rooftops of all the buildings across the street before I caught the wink of something metallic straight overhead.

  I swung around to check out the buildings next to us, but the bird had disappeared without making a sound. Owls flew eerily silently, even the largest species, but after seeing the metallic glint, I was sure this was a Strix, a gigantic, owl-like bird that made a pterodactyl seem like a baby duck.

  Strixes inhabited the outer edges of Tartarus, the place where truly evil beings resided for eternal punishment. Their claws and beaks were some sort of metal capable of shredding plate armor or severing a man’s leg. They ate people, too—as their primary food source. Legends said they were once men punished for acts of cannibalism. Strigoi, the true vampires, used them as scouts and security, as did some of the more malevolent Unseelie Fae and anything else that could control them. I was willing to bet that Strix was the thing watching and following me since I’d showed up at the Red Hook residences. Lilith employed Strixes, but she lacked the subtlety needed to send Jinn and mortal human assassins to take me out. The more I thought about it, the more I liked Medea for this whole mess. At least I wouldn’t have to face a full-blown vampire army to get to Medea.

  Sarah put her hand on my arm, gentle but steady. “Whoa, there. You okay?” she asked, snapping me back to reality.

  “Uh, yeah. Just thought I saw something,” I said sheepishly. “Sorry, it’s a lot of years of training. It’s hard to keep it in check sometimes. Thanks.” Man, did I feel stupid. Not to mention excessively paranoid, too.

  She never took her hand off my arm.

  “Nice gun.” I handed it back to Agent Wright, more than a little embarrassed. It was a Beretta Px4 Storm Compact. “Not used very much, though.” It was a reliable and tough gun with little recoil. “Forty cal?” I asked, noting its shorter barrel length, desperately trying somehow to shift attention from my seemingly paranoid outburst.

  “Yes,” she said, reaching for the gun. “Uh, just target practice. We don’t get into many shootouts in the DHS,” she said wryly. “Part of the reason I left the FBI for it, like I was telling you earlier.”

  “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” I said as I walked back to the passenger-side door. I had to try not to seem caught off guard by the FBI comment, which I’d clearly missed in the restaurant earlier.

  “You want to explain to me what that was all about, or should I just chalk it up to you being tired?” I could see concern etched on her face.

  “Could have been the pepperoni. Spicy food makes you see weird things,” I replied without thinking. Stupid comment.

  She stared hard at me for a solid minute across the car’s roof then said, “Seriously, what was that?” as she opened her door and got in.

  Once she was in the car I thumped myself in the head. “Nothing. I guess I’m just on edge.”

  “No kidding.” She drove me back to my hotel. She didn’t say another word the whole trip.

  The closer we got to my lodging, the bigger an idiot I felt, especially as we wound our way among the crime-scene techs still working the site of the shootout. This was exactly why it was so hard for me to have a relationship with a mundane. But it didn’t stop me from keeping watch over the rooftops as we drove.

  “I’ll stay in touch. And I’ll be better the next time I see you, I promise,” I said as I climbed out, vest in hand, before she could reply. I was too embarrassed even to say goodnight to her.

  I ran into the hotel without turning back. Inside, I pushed through a few guests gathered in the salon to see what was happening outside, climbed the narrow staircase up to the second floor, and entered my room without turning on any lights. I crossed over to the window and pulled the blinds and curtains closed and then checked my watch. It was nearly one in the morning, and despite my near total exhaustion, I wasn’t finished yet. I flipped the light on and grabbed my gear bags. I needed to call in backup.

  Wrapped in a chamois inside a small compartment in the gear bag I kept my clothes in was a book-sized, brown-leather satchel that held a half-dozen arcane artifacts of a not-so-mundane-as-they-appeared nature. I pulled out a roll of parchment made from reeds from the River Styx and a writing quill from a roc feather and got my tanto knife from my vest. I sat down at the desk and began the fairy equivalent of a couple of e-mails.

  True names were a powerful commodity among the fae and those beings that could use certain types of magic, and this type of communication was precisely the reason. I knew the full and true names of several fairy folk, and they knew mine. If I wrote them down, I could send a message to them wherever they were. I could do worse if I were so inclined, but the two fae I wanted to contact a
t the moment were friends, and right then, I needed them to watch my back.

  When I finished writing the messages, I cut my thumb with the knife, squeezed a few drops of blood on the corner of each page, and murmured the incantation that would connect their names and my words. For all I knew, it was “Jimmy Crack Corn” in some archaic language. I wouldn’t have put it past my friends, especially since they were particularly twisted Anseelie Fae called Peri.

  The Anseelie—those of neither Light nor Dark—were considered traitors by the Seelie and Unseelie Courts and were bound by no agreements or accords with any beings. While both the Seelie and Unseelie Fae went to great lengths to maintain their codes of honor, formality, and behavior and had specific consequences for violations, the Anseelie were unburdened by such contrivances. As traitors, both courts had once hunted Anseelie Fae mercilessly for their crimes, and all but a few of the known types of the subversive races had been wiped out. Of all their kind, Peri were considered to be among the most feared.

  The two fae I was contacting were some of the deadliest fairies around and as honor-bound and trustworthy as most humans—that is, not at all. Peri had no qualms about lying, cheating, stealing, and killing, if it served their purpose at the time, and my friends were no different. Luckily for everyone, there just weren’t that many Peri left.

  Like most fae, the two I was summoning were millennia older than I was. The brothers were as different as night and day. I’d met them several hundred years ago when I’d saved their lives. At the time, Duma was masquerading as a traveling court jester. His troupe of Peri entertainers performed a harlequinade, but in reality they were all mercenaries and assassins. Abraxos played the clumsy oaf Pierrot, and they even had a real wizard play the Fairy Queen and transform the players into the characters of the harlequinade.

  The troupe got itself into trouble when it raided a Scottish castle for plunder during a secret meeting of the Seelie and Unseelie Courts that was presided over by Yngvi, a Seelie Elf noble, and Lord Rubezahl, an Unseelie ogre. Ab and Duma were the lone survivors of that offensive when I showed up, drawn by the bloodcurdling and grisly sounds of a horrific attack. I freed Ab and Duma, rescuing them from execution, and in return, they swore a blood oath to serve me. No fae can break a blood oath without dying.