Deadly Curiosities

by Gail Z. Martin

  “Well then, who needs her?” I said, trying to brush past an awkward moment. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”

  “Teag” Lucinda said, “I have something for you.” She reached into her purse and withdrew a head wrap that was red and white. On it, I saw the veve for Ogoun, one of the more helpful Voudon Loas.

  “Please, accept this as a gift and wear it,” Lucinda said. “I have asked the blessing of the Loa on it, and since you have weaving magic, I believe that the cloth will speak to your power and give you strength.”

  “I would be honored,” Teag said, accepting the piece of cloth as if he were holding a sacred object.

  “And I will definitely wear it. I’ll take all the help I can get.” After a pause, Teag gave Sorren an embarrassed smile. “Don’t suppose you found any magic blades I could use?”

  Sorren laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Teag’s Filipino martial arts tradition meant he could fight with blades, and use just about anything as a weapon. He was dangerous enough with regular knives, but if we could locate something that would tie into his Weaver magic, he could be awesome.

  My gaze wandered back to the head wrap Lucinda had given Teag. I hadn’t expected to learn much about Voudon in Charleston – we were far from New Orleans. But Sorren had told me about how Mama Nadege – Lucinda’s ancestor – had brought her customs with her when as a slave more than one hundred and fifty years ago, her mistress had brought her from New Orleans to Charleston. Mama Nadege’s spirit had never left Charleston’s shadowed alleys.

  I was sure she was not the only secret practitioner of those rites. Once I was alert to the traces of Voudon, now and again I spotted the beautiful, complex drawings – veves – that were used to invoke the Loas. Lucinda had passed along a powerful gift, since some Voudon practitioners wore head scarfs and ‘aprons’ in the colors sacred to their favored Loas when they attended rituals and ceremonies. I was betting that’s where Teag’s scarf had come from and I hoped that the Loas were inclined to listen to petitions for our safety.

  I looked at the others. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m hungry. Let’s go in the kitchen.”

  They followed me and found seats around my table. I pulled a bag of cookies out of the pantry and put them on the table.

  Teag laid out an aerial photographic map of the facility. “I printed this out,” he said. “And digging into the information I could find on Stor-Your-Own, I turned up some interesting tidbits.”

  Sorren leaned over to get a better look at the map. “Do you have an idea of where the disturbances are localized?”

  Teag nodded. “Here’s the office,” he said, pointing. “There’s a fence around the whole compound, but with the electricity turned off, the gate won’t work, so we’ll have to cut our way through the fence.

  “There are four buildings.” He continued. “One of the buildings is the shell of the original brick warehouse. The others are newer pole barn buildings built when the storage facility was set up.”

  “So someone gutted one of the old warehouses that had been used as a morgue and a prison, and turned it into storage units,” Lucinda mused. “Lovely.”

  I shrugged. “You know Charleston – everything gets re-used. I mean, if you can’t sense the resonance, why would you waste a perfectly good building?”

  Teag pulled out another sheet, a printout of a diagram Flora had probably used to orient new tenants.

  “Here’s a map of Building Four,” he said. “It’s the one where Flora said she saw ‘bad things’ happening.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “According to what Flora said, it’s where Russ Landrieu had his storage unit, and where I suspect Moran and his demon are doing what they do.”

  Teag pulled some papers out of the messenger bag he had slung across the back of a chair. “Believe it or not, most of Stor-Your-Own’s information was online. The court executor hired another storage company to help notify renters after the murder and closing to help wrap things up and they weren’t so great on security. They left the door wide open for me.”

  He paused. “Using the information in those files, I called the tenants who hadn’t paid their rent at the time Stor-Your-Own closed,” he said. “I found out that three of the people were dead. Three others had gone missing. The only thing they all in common was that they had rented at Stor-Your-Own right before it closed down.”

  He sighed. “Some of the calls were dead ends – phones disconnected, that sort of thing. But the people I did reach all told me that they didn’t collect their things because they were afraid. They had seen things at the storage buildings that scared the hell out of them.”

  He gave us all a pointed look. “Bad luck clings to that place like stink on a skunk. When I looked up the other two late-rent people, I found that one of them has been in a coma from an unidentified disease for the last four months, and the other is in prison. From everything I read about what happened, it seems like a very normal, devoted and hard-working man suddenly snapped one day and killed his family and his neighbors without any explanation.”

  “That’s some powerfully bad mojo,” Lucinda remarked.

  He nodded. “People said the place was freezing cold when the units were supposed to be climate controlled. They saw shadow men and heard terrible noises. Lights wouldn’t stay on or constantly flickered. And every one of them said a terrible feeling of despair hung over the place.”

  The four of us exchanged glances. “Looks like at least a few of Stor-Your-Own’s tenants had some run ins with ghosts,” Lucinda said.

  Teag nodded. “And it makes me wonder about the other folks, and whether their bad luck started when they rented their units. Maybe they were more susceptible to being influenced by whatever’s out there.”

  I looked at Teag. “Speaking of which, thanks to Sorren and my grandmother and Bo, I have several ‘charms’ to help me focus and control positive energy. What about you? We need to make sure you’re going to be safe. Do you have anything beyond Lucinda’s gift?”

  Teag chuckled, and removed his hoodie. Underneath it was a finely-woven scarf that hung around his neck and went down to just above his waist. I could see the runes woven into the scarf, both in the texture of the fabric as well as in the colored pattern. A long thread hung from one end.

  “I’ve been working on this for a while,” he said. He followed my gaze. “That’s a ‘spirit line’ to allow the spirit of the woven piece to leave the piece. I’ve woven intentions and protective magic into it.”

  Then he reached into his pocket and held out a handful of different-colored threads. “Weaving lines,”

  he said. “I can store my magic in the knots and patterns, and draw on them as we need them.” He gave a self-conscious smile. “Sorren found me a good teacher.” He shrugged. “I needed something to do in my spare time.”

  Lucinda smiled, looking at the workmanship in the scarf. “Very nice,” she said. “I can feel its magic.

  Very strong.”

  “What magic have you learned that you can use?” Sorren asked with concern.

  “Not nearly enough given what we’re up against.” Teag said. “It’s mostly defensive. I can use the knots to anchor my spirit and dispel attacks of illusion, fear, and magic. I can also bind others if I can get them to look at the weaving. Well, I could also tie someone up so they couldn’t get loose – but they’d have to sit still. Sorry, I know it’s not much.”

  Lucinda approached Teag and placed her hand on his chest. “Child, don’t discount your gift. You’re early on your journey but your power and spirit are strong. Can you also anchor Cassidy if needed?”

  “Sure, I’d probably need to be able to touch her, but I can do that.”

  “You must remember that if Cassidy gets caught in a vision. Being able to limit her involvement could save both of you.” Sorren said. “We should expect our adversaries to use our weaknesses. Cassidy’s talents are much more widely known than yours. Moran will try to use her magic a
gainst her.” He stood. “I need to go prepare for our demon hunter. I’ll see you all later tonight.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I’D NEVER MET a demon hunter before. I’d seen movies, so I guess I was thinking of someone who looked like a cross between Van Helsing and Blade. Taras Mirov didn’t.

  Mirov was about five and a half feet tall and muscular. He didn’t look like he worked out at the gym.

  His kind of build came from a grueling military regimen and hard physical labor. Mirov had sandy blond hair, cut short. His eyes were light blue, cold and unreadable. I put his age at early thirties, give or take a few years. He wore an olive green jacket and fatigues with a black t-shirt and heavy lug-soled boots.

  “I’m here to take care of your problem,” he said when Sorren met him at the door. Mirov’s English was good, but his accent was thick. He carried himself like a soldier. Hard to change old habits. He shrugged out of a battered backpack as he entered. I couldn’t see any weapons on him, but I was betting he was armed to the teeth.

  It was close to ten o’clock, and we had driven out to Sorren’s house in the country, a short way beyond the city limits. It was one of many homes he owned around the world, he had told me, acquired through third parties that kept his name – and therefore questions about his age – out of the public record. The house was newer than antebellum, but not by much. By Charleston standards, it was small as former plantations went. The fields held thoroughbred horses, not crops. A small but very loyal and discreet staff meant Sorren was insulated from the day-to-day management, making it easy for him to stay out of sight.

  In the time I’d been working with Sorren, I’d only been to the house once or twice. It was old and grand, decorated simply and tastefully. Comfortable, but with very few personal touches. I wondered if Sorren didn’t go in much for knick-knacks, or whether over the centuries, things become a burden and mementos hold too many memories. Or maybe, this was just a safe-house and his real home was elsewhere.

  There were some questions you just didn’t ask your vampire boss.

  Sorren showed Mirov in to the living room, where Teag, Lucinda, and I were already seated. Mirov did not wave or make a move to shake hands. All business.

  He did, however, accept a cup of tea. Sorren had made it the Russian way, in the large antique samovar that sat on the dining room table. It was a gesture of respect, and it made me see Mirov as more than just a hired gun.

  “Your trip was uneventful?” Sorren asked, taking a seat and gesturing for Mirov to sit down.

  Mirov shrugged. “Fortunately, yes. Eventful is usually a bad thing,” he said, allowing a faint smile.

  Sorren made introductions and recapped what we knew thus far. Teag, Lucinda, and I added our details. Mirov listened intently, not speaking until we had all finished.

  “So you’re not completely sure yet where the demon’s made his nest?” he asked.

  Teag unrolled the map of the old Navy yard. “The bodies have either been found near or within the grounds of the Navy yard, or were men who had some kind of connection to that location. And we’ve got evidence that Moran was using one of the buildings at the abandoned storage facility, so that’s our starting point, and probably the demon’s lair.” He shrugged. “I just don’t want to assume anything until we have evidence.”

  “It also aligns with the coordinates the Alliance supplied of where we’ve seen a spike in supernatural activity,” Sorren supplied.

  “And that entire area has had enough death, misfortunate and betrayal to give it monumentally bad mojo,” I said.

  Mirov chuckled. “Bad mojo? I would say so.”

  Up close, Mirov reminded me of a stray dog that had been in too many fights. Lean, wary, constantly ready to react, with the scars to show for a life on the rough side. Mirov’s hands and arms had a number of old cuts and burns, plus something that looked like a nasty bite. The puckered skin of a severe burn went down his neck and peeked out at the collar of his shirt. His short hair barely covered another old scar, a large one, on his scalp.

  “Can we get into this Navy yard for another look?” Mirov asked, studying the map.

  “Yes we can, but whether we should or not is another matter,” Sorren said. “The police have stepped up patrols because of the number of bodies found.”

  Mirov looked mildly amused. “I’m not worried about your police.”

  “It would be inconvenient if you were spotted, or detained,” Sorren noted.

  Mirov shrugged as if that outcome was unlikely.

  “I’ve been into the area twice with Teag and Cassidy,” Sorren said. “Both times, we were attacked and had to fight our way out. The violence escalated between the two attacks. I don’t think you’ll be able to get in and stroll around without attracting attention, and that will tip Moran and the demon off. We could lose our chance.”

  “The fact remains, we haven’t located the demon’s nest with certainty. You think it’s in the storage facility or somewhere close. But that’s four large buildings—and there’s not much room for error unless we can pinpoint his location. It’s already risky to go to him in his home territory,” Mirov said. “Better for us if we can draw him out into the open.” He shook his head. “The area is too big to go in without knowing his location. Too much room for error.”

  “I’ll go,” Sorren said. “I’m faster and stronger, and harder to destroy.” He gave Mirov a lopsided grin.

  “You’re good, Taras, but you’re still mortal.”

  Mirov gave another shrug. “Fine by me. Get an address, and we can pull down satellite pictures at street level.” He smiled. “I love the Internet.”

  “I’ll check the area around the storage unit,” Sorren said. “Confirm the layout, check for any recent activity.” He must have seen my look of concern, because he shook his head.

  “No, I’m not going to try to enter any of the buildings… I don’t want to alert them too early,” he added. “But if we’re going to war, we need to know the lay of the land.”

  Mirov leaned forward. “When do we strike?”

  Sorren frowned. “When we feel we’re ready. Soon, but not quite yet.” He paused. “Did you bring what I requested?”

  Mirov nodded and opened his backpack. He took out several items wrapped in cloth and tied with twine. As I looked closer, I saw that the twine was unusual, made of many-colored strands and each knot was sealed with wax. I glanced at Teag and he nodded. The bindings were magical.

  Teag moved the map aside, and Mirov laid the wrapped pieces on the coffee table.

  “Go ahead,” he said. “Unwrap them. See if the objects will accept you.”

  He slid two of the packages toward me and two toward Teag, then watched us, waiting. I glanced at Sorren, who nodded reassuringly.

  The first package I picked up was wrapped in a piece of suede. I snapped the wax seal and felt a tingle of magic. The twine fell away, and the suede opened to reveal a ring with a tiger’s eye stone.

  “The ring affects your inner sight,” Sorren said. “It gives you greater control about what you see and when you see it. It can bring you clarity, and allow you to shut down your sight if you don’t want to be affected by visions.”

  Handy, that. I took a deep breath and picked up the ring, expecting to be floored by a vision. It felt warm in my hand, and I felt a glow of well-being and strength. Warily, I slipped it onto my finger. Then I closed my eyes and focused on the ring, willing it to keep me from seeing visions. Before I could second guess myself, I put my hand down on the second package and felt… nothing.

  After an instant of panic, I centered myself and willed for clarity. My senses were flooded with impressions of the second object. I saw faces of the object’s former owners, places far away and long ago, and a sense of danger averted. I asked the ring to dial the sensations back to normal, and the visions subsided.

  “Off hand, I’d say it likes her,” Lucinda said, grinning.

  “Now the second one,” Mirov said with a glanc
e.

  I had already experienced some of the impressions this object had to give me. This item was wrapped in old silk. I felt a frisson of magic as I snapped the wax seal, lifting the jet and gold bracelet out of its antique covering. The jet felt cool in my hands, but it gave me a sense of strength and safety that made me want to clutch it and hold on tightly.

  I braced myself, and slipped the jet and golden bracelet onto my wrist. My magic felt purer, stronger than before. I did not receive visions of the bracelet’s past wearers, only a feeling of security, like I was wrapped in strong, protective arms.

  “Jet protects you from negative energy, and it will call power to your other, defensive magic,” Lucinda said. “A very nice complement to your other tools.”

  “Thank you,” I said to Taras for bringing the items, and then to Sorren, who had chosen them. I looked expectantly to Teag. It was like magical Christmas morning, and I wanted to see what was in his presents.

  Teag looked self-conscious and a little scared as he reached for the first of his two packages. He touched the seal and drew back suddenly, shaking his hand. “Damn! That felt like it shocked me!”

  Sorren nodded. “That means you have an especially strong connection.”

  Teag regarded Sorren with a wary look, and tried again, snapping open the wax and unwrapping the craft paper and then the canvas on the heavy package. When he folded back the canvas Teag caught his breath. The Espada Y Daga, a sword and knife set used in Eskrima, lay before him in ornate, runeinscribed scabbards.

  “Wow.” Was all Teag could muster as he reverently reached out to touch the scabbards. “They have power?” Teag asked in confirmation as he lifted the sword and scabbard and carefully slid the blade free.

  “Yes, both the sword and dagger were spelled against the supernatural when they were forged,”

  Sorren said. “The scabbards have magical runes. They cleanse the blades and remove any lingering taint.