“I like the way you think, kid,” I said, giving him a pat on the back. Maybe I’d been a little harsh on judging his mental capabilities. Maybe.
Outside, I was thrown for a bit of disorientation. I knew we wasn’t still in LA, but I didn’t know where we were neither. The sky had more stars than I ever seen and the ‘downtown’ we was headed for was like the punchline of a really sad joke.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Blackbird,” answered Jem, who made me laugh by actually waiting until the light changed to cross the street despite the fact that there was no cars on the road at all. No cars! I didn’t think there was a scrap of real estate left on this crummy planet with no cars.
“And where the H-E-double hockey sticks is that?” I asked, not that it truly mattered because nowhere was the apparent answer. One of those unimportant states that no one would know the name of if it weren’t for sadistic geography teachers filling kids’ heads with useless knowledge.
It weren’t a long walk, but it weren’t no fun what with the kids bickering at each other the whole way. Not to mention Jem kept looking over at me with this guilty expression that made no sense. After a minute or two of feeling like a bug under a microscope, I stopped.
“Whatever it is, kid, spit it out.”
“I um, just feel bad.”
“Bad?” I asked. “Feel bad for what?”
“Uh, do you think one of the bottles Nai has will work or do we need to do something special?”
“Bottles?” I asked with confusion and a small involuntary shudder. I didn’t never want to see the inside of no bottle ever again. “Kid, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Your bottle,” he said. “It’s smashed pretty bad. I can try to glue it back together, but… I’m really sorry.”
The poor kid really was too nice for his own good. As annoying as that was, and as awful an idea as that was, it kinda gave me hope.
“Sorry? Don’t you be sorry,” I said. “Listen kid, it ain’t like that plush harem the little blonde lady on the TV gets to crash out in. You rescued me. You should feel proud of yourself.”
“I should?”
“Yeah you should! I was a prisoner and that was cruel and unusual punishment. I mean look at me. I may not be the biggest and baddest you ever seen or nothing, but do I look like someone who should be squashed into an itsy bitsy bottle?”
His eyes went bulgy and for a moment, he looked a little like the very nephew we was going to find.
“You mean, you don’t shrink?”
“What? Of course we don’t shrink! It wouldn’t be cruel and unusual otherwise.”
“Wow… I’m really sorry, Howie. I would have broken the bottle sooner if I’d have known.”
I grinned. My instincts were right about this one. Sure, he was one of them agents and unable to fall for my tricks, but there was something off about him that made him too trusting. I could almost taste freedom. All I had to do was play my cards right. Of course, playing my cards right meant keeping an eye on Nai. She was proving to be a bit more on the up and up than her brother and it almost felt as if she was daring me to give her a reason to whip out some crazy Order magic that I had a feeling she weren’t supposed to be dabbling in.
“We’re here,” Jem said, but there weren’t really no need seeing as the sign over the door pretty much told me where we was.
The Five Penny Pub. Now that was a stupid name. Why didn’t they just call it The Nickel? I’m all for the economicals when it comes to wordsmithing. Instead of Lincolns, the sign had five Indian heads in a half circle over the name, so maybe they didn’t make nickels back then. Don’t ask me, I ain’t no history scholar and my memory space is reserved for important things, like who owes me money and who I’m holding a grudge against.
The kids led me around the back into an alley that might have been dodgy in a bigger city, but the worst threat I could see was a couple of pixies which meant it was kind of a joke. Not surprising. From what I could see through the grimy windows, the place seemed cozy enough. I doubted there was much reason for any of my type to be hanging around. That is, until Jem opened the back door and I was hit with a whammy of restless thoughts.
I took back what I said. This place was a goldmine. Now, as an imp, it wouldn’t have been too special and I certainly couldn’t see the appeal for a lesser demon like my nephew, but as I was now stuck playing the role of wish-granter, it was crack. No, crack weren’t a strong enough comparison. This was chocolate covered, bacon cheeseburger flavored, super crack. The desperation was ecstatic. Everyone, it seemed, wanted more than this town afforded and none was opposed to doing whatever it took to get there. All I had to do was get shod of junior here and I was gonna have a field day!
“Who’s back there? Jem? What is you- Oh!”
All my planning got shoved to the back of my mind when my yo-yo of a nephew stuck his ugly mug out the door and caught sight of me.
“Oh hey! Uncle Howie! Long time no see. Uh…”
“Don’t you dare play stupid with me, Hubert,” I said and gave him a whack upside the head. “I don’t care if you isn’t actually playing. You got a lot of explaining to do.”
“Hey, watch the horns! Whaddya mean I gots some explainin’? I ain’t the one that bailed! Wait a minute. Why is you still a djinn?”
“No, you buffoon, you just stuck me in a bottle, knowing full well I was trapped, and dumped me out with the trash. In fact,” I said and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, eyeballing a nearby dumpster. “Hows about we give you the same royal treatment?”
But before I could give my nephew a taste of his own medicine, our grappling was separated by a blast of stomach-cramping Order magic and I was slammed into a grimy concrete wall. Lucky for me, there was a nice soft pile of mucky garbage bags to break my fall. When I stopped seeing stars, a ginormous hulk of an all too familiar shadow blocked out the spill of light from the open doorway. So much for sneaking around to avoid the Warrior.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t another one of my least favorite LA cockroaches. What are you doing here, Slick?”
Chapter 2
Wagers & Wishes
By now, I should have known better than to expect anything resembling a slowdown in Blackbird’s unusual activity, but I didn’t think it was too much to ask for a single hour without a catastrophe. Apparently, I was wrong.
To my surprise and relief, the Five Penny was still standing when we returned. Bogie had managed to keep the drinks flowing and none of the patrons had yet found a reason to start a fight. Even more surprising, Myrna Rose still sat where I had left her an hour before, nursing her drink and staring blankly at the television over the bar, which was showing an infomercial for some useless product designed for the type of inept individuals who found boiling water to be too complex. Myrna was a private person and didn’t like crowds, so to find her still at the bar came as a shock. I had expected her to leave soon after I’d left to deal with the wraith.
“Myrna?” I asked, quietly, as not to startle the psychic, who appeared lost in deep thought. That, or perhaps I had misjudged her and she was the type who needed a gadget to boil water. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m not sure,” she said, taking a sip from her glass. “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”
“That’s a little cryptic even for you,” I chided.
“You know I can’t see the future, Desmond,” she scolded lightly. “I’d planned to leave hours ago, but for some reason, I had a strong compulsion to stay right here, so here I stayed. Hubert has been a gracious host.”
At that, Bogie tipped his hat and gave Myrna a playful wink. He might have been a joke of a demon, but even I couldn’t deny that Bogie was one hell of a bartender. I was pleasantly surprised to find that after paying September’s bills, the Five Penny’s bank account was still in the black and I knew I had the runt to thank for that. Perhaps one day I might even consider giving him a raise.
The door opened and I sensed
Seth enter the bar before he entered my peripheral vision. Although he wasn’t giving off the same intense and burdened aura he’d had when we first met, his emotional output was still strong, which worried me. It had been a full month since the incident with the angel, and still it seemed as if we would never regain the level of trust we’d had when we first met. It was as if Seth now saw me as something of a threat, which was painful, but I couldn’t blame him. Without knowing as I did our past, I could see how my concern for his wellbeing could easily be misconstrued as something negative. At some point, we were going to have to sit down and discuss all that had come between us, but in truth, I was no more ready to do this than he was.
“Kids okay?” I asked as he came around and said hello to Myrna.
“They were when I left them. Of course, that was nearly five minutes ago,” he joked. “How is everything here? I hate to say it, but it feels a little too balanced.”
“Well that might be the calm before the next storm,” I said. “Myrna here felt compelled to stick around.”
“Hey now, that mighta just been my scintilatin’ personality,” said Bogie as he slid a beer in front of Seth.
“We can only hope,” Seth said, tipping his head in appreciation for the beer. “Anyone heard from the coven?”
“Louise sent me a text message,” Myrna replied. “They made it home and are performing a healing ritual. If I know those girls, that’s code for chick flicks, tequila shots, and pedicures.”
“To each their own,” I said with a quiet chuckle, though I did worry. The last time we saw Donna, she looked more in need of medical assistance than emotional support. Though I suppose if I had been in her place and saw what she had, I’d probably want to drink to forget as well.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bogie stop, look down at the pitcher in his hand, and give a slight shudder before continuing on to the other side of the bar.
“Goose walk over your grave?” I asked when he came back by.
“That weren’t no goose,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought I felt somethin’ a little hinky, but it ain’t there no more. Probably nothin’. Leastways, here’s hoping it ain’t nothin’.”
“So now you’re a psychic too?”
“Nah, ain’t nothin’ like that. We demons just got a sixth sense for when the universe starts conspiring against us. Of course, you know all about my luck. The universe is always conspiring against me, ain’t it?”
“I’m not sure we can hang all of your problems on the universe, Bogie,” I said with a shake of my head. “Let’s just hope, for your sake, you just caught a chill.” Granted, given where we were, and Myrna’s cryptic concerns, I wasn’t too optimistic.
But as the night wore on, nothing out of the ordinary happened. I had a handful of vampires to dispatch, but that was business as usual. By the time Bogie rang the bell to announce last call, our group’s collective spirits were much lighter.
“Well,” Myrna said, standing and placing her arms in the jacket I held out to her. “Perhaps the magical energy flying around earlier just made me a little paranoid. After all, I’m not as young as I once was, and I fear more of my mind slips away each day.”
“Yet you’re still sharper than most folks I know half your age,” I said and meant it. “Sometimes we all just…” I trailed off just as Myrna stiffened and Seth shot me a look of concern. There was a magical disturbance. Nothing major, but just enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Seconds later, a loud crash issued from the open back door and I heard Bogie’s voice raise.
“Well, it seems as if we spoke too soon. Why am I not surprised?” I muttered before turning to vault the bar.
Out in the alley, there was the unmistakable stink of Discord. Something had Bogie pushed up against the side of the dumpster. Taking advantage of the element of surprise, I grabbed Bogie’s assailant by the shoulders and threw him aside. I’d expected a wolf or some other predatory creature with a little weight behind them, not the feather-light waste of hair gel that went sailing a good ten feet when I released him.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t another one of my least favorite LA cockroaches.” I looked down at yet another bumbling idiot from my days in Los Angeles who was sprawled in a pile of garbage bags. “What are you doing here, Slick?”
Slick, also known as Bogie’s Uncle Howie, was an imp who was well known to me thanks to his slime ball ways. He was one of Bogie’s least offensive relatives, but given Bogie’s family tree, that really wasn’t saying so much.
“A pleasure to see you again too, Des,” he quipped, pushing himself back up to his feet. “And by pleasure, I mean a completely unexpected and unpleasant surprise.”
“I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual, buddy,” I growled, frowning as I got a good look at him. “What’s wrong with your face?” Slick’s typically mottled and red demon complexion was a sickly purple.
“Got it jammed into a bottle thanks to my braniac nephew here,” he said, giving Bogie a slap upside the head before dusting himself off.
“Hey, ouchie! I thought you was gonna use the bottle to get back home?”
“Bottle?” I noticed then that Howie wasn’t standing so much as hovering slightly above the ground. Well, that at least explained his unsettling violet pallor. Djinn were typically blue skinned when unglamoured. Amazingly, this was one of the things Hollywood managed to get right on occasion. When the djinn loaned their powers to another Discordant, the blue hue went as well. Imps ranged from light pink to deep red and as I recalled, Slick’s complexion wasn’t that great to begin with.
That he found himself on the wrong side of an entrapment spell wasn’t at all surprising, but it was fortunate. All I needed to get rid of the shyster was a pretty enough bottle and I thanked my lucky stars that the Five Penny was a bar. This would take all of five seconds.
“I’m supposed to believe that you was innocent in all of this?” he growled, ignoring me in favor of glaring at his nephew with murderous intent. “Like you didn’t know the banishment would hold even on a vessel portal? What with all the dough you owe me? Nah. I think you was trying some funny business, Hubie.”
“Now hold on a minute,” Bogie protested, hands out as he backed away from his great uncle. As much fun as it would have been to watch the runt squirm, a Discordant fight, even amongst these two idiots, would draw too much unwanted attention.
“All right, get inside. Both of you.”
I shoved the two of them through the door and eyed the nearby recycling bin. Lying on the top of the pile was an empty scotch bottle whose gold label was both tacky and ornate enough to do the trick. I pulled out the stopper, waiting for the lure of the shiny glass and cheap booze fumes to pull the imp in, but he remained substantial. I tossed it aside and picked up a fancier amaretto bottle. I wouldn’t have figured Slick to be picky or to have refined tastes, but stranger things have been known to happen. Still, when I pulled the fake-jeweled topper out, he didn’t so much as lean in the bottle’s direction. It was then that I noticed the hunched figure of Jem hanging out by the doorway.
“Son of a…” I muttered, hoping against hope that the teen’s presence and the ineffectiveness of the bottles didn’t mean what I thought it did. When his sister came waltzing around the corner with a smug smile, all hope died.
“Oh look, popcorn!” Nai’s eyes lit up as she slid the basket of bar snacks closer and settled in to watch the events unfold, either oblivious to or simply uncaring about the glare I gave her.
In the confusion, Howie had lunged for Bogie once more and the grappling was taking them dangerously close to where the glasses were stacked. If these two wanted to tear each other apart, that wasn’t my problem, but they weren’t going to trash my bar in the process.
“All right, enough is enough,” I said, grabbing the two Discordant by their collars to separate them. “Break anything and I’m taking it out of both your hides. And not a word out of either of you until you are spoken to. Got it?”
> “Got it, boss,” Bogie said while Howie just grunted and gave a short nod.
“Might as well come in and shut the door, Jem.”
The teen did as I asked, but his hands were shaking enough that it took him several tries to pull the catch across the lock. As frustrated as I was, I had to remind myself that he and his sister had both just gone through an incredibly trying evening. Still…
“What on earth?” Seth staggered slightly as the two demons shuffled into the bar area. After a moment, he blinked and looked up at me with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I still had my receptors on alert from earlier and I wasn’t expecting the emotional outburst that just hit me.” He looked over at Bogie with concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Eh, define okay,” the demon grunted and tossed a dirty look at his uncle and me.
“We had an impromptu family reunion out in the alley,” I said, explaining to Seth and Myrna who Howie was. Noticing his sickly color, Myrna glanced down at Howie’s feet, still hovering a few inches from the ground, and frowned.
“Well Seth, it looks like you and I might have to go bowling tomorrow.”
Between the emphasis she put on the word bowling and the knowing look she threw at Seth, it was pretty obvious that Myrna was not a master of subtlety. Seth, on the other hand, looked alarmed.
“We made a promise, Myrna,” he said with a slight warning.
“As did our antisocial friend,” she countered. “However it seems as if someone slipped through.”
She cut her glance over to Howie and back at Seth.
“Are either of you going to share with the rest of us?” I asked. It was not difficult to piece together what neither of them were saying outright. Seth had already told me that of the seven mystics in Blackbird, there were two that kept mostly to themselves and I assumed that one or both were in some way connected to the bowling alley. Still, I found the cryptic conversation to be more than a small annoyance.
Seth also glanced briefly at Howie before muttering, “Later.”
Rise of the Discordant: The Complete Five Book Series Page 37
