Madison Mosby and the Moonmilk Wars

by Jason Winn

  Sean didn’t answer, he just shifted between his laptop and the cell phone.

  “Give him a minute,” said Madison. She knew when Reese would get like that, it was best to just let him swim around in his problem, rather than force your way into his brain.

  She turned to Wrench. “All right, so show me.”

  “Right,” said Wrench. “Now, pay attention.”

  Sarah entered behind Madison. “Oh, is everything done?”

  Wrench pulled a drop cloth away to reveal the mousetrap. “Ta da.”

  “Got it,” Sean announced, smacking the workbench. “The self-destruct is working. Check the test light on the dash.” He tapped a few icons on the phone. “See the light?”

  “Looks good,” said Wrench.

  “Self-destruct?” asked Madison. She took a few steps back from the death van.

  “Now, hold on,” said Wrench. “Just let me take you through it there, double oh seven.”

  Madison crossed her arms and cocked her head. “All right.”

  He opened the driver’s side door and pulled something. The side doors of the minivan fell down like jet wings. A huge machine gun was mounted on each wing.

  “Oh, fuck yeah,” said Madison, holding her chest like a bride before the perfect dress.

  Sean walked over and handed her the cell phone. “I programmed the native clock to be your countdown timer. Put it to whatever you want. When it hits zero, boom. If you need to just set it off, punch in 5555 at the lock screen and duck.”

  “Stupid question, what happens if I’m in the car and I accidentally hit 5555?”

  “The phone has to be at least twenty yards away from the car for that option to work. And even then, you’d better be behind something like a brick wall, according to Sarah and Jane.”

  “Got it,”

  “A few more things about the guns,” said Wrench. “You fire them here.” He pulled out the cigarette lighter and Madison heard the triggers clicking. “They’re going to be loud and not very accurate. I had to trim off the barrels a bit just to get them to fit. Also, these flaps”—he pointed to the door wings—“these are a manual release with this handle here.” He pointed to a small white lever under the driver’s seat. “Once they’re down, they’re down. You have to have someone in the back seat to pull them back in, using these cables.” He pointed to two cables lying on the floor, where a middle seat would normally be. “They’re not that heavy, Sarah could pull them up, but you need to reel them in, before you get on a highway.”

  “Pull in machine guns, before getting back on the Interstate,” Madison said sarcastically. “I think I can manage remembering that.”

  Wrench smirked. “And, if either of these jams, they’re probably done.”

  Sarah chimed in. “So, pick your targets carefully. You only have fifty rounds each.”

  “Anything else?” asked Madison. “Any oil slicks or bulletproof glass?”

  “I welded some additional steel plating inside the driver’s door, but we can’t do much more than that, before this thing gets too heavy for the engine to pull it.”

  “All right, thanks.” She got up on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Looks like you boys have thought of everything.”

  “There’s still about a thousand things that could go wrong with all of this,” said Sean. “A party valet could accidentally pull the gun release lever. Your cell signal could get blocked. They could just shoot you when you walk through the front door. Or, a cop could just decide to pull you over and shit himself, when he sees two military grade weapons tucked into the sides of the minivan.”

  “That’s the attitude,” said Madison, and she punched him in the shoulder.

  She walked out of the garage and back into the mansion, where Dwayne, Ham Steak and several other Black Fangs were waiting for her on the back porch.

  “Car’s almost done. As for you all, I want you waiting a couple hundred yards down the road in case I need backup. If I call you, come in guns blazing and get me the hell out of there.”

  “Can do, Maddy Money,” said Dwayne.

  “Who wants lemonade?” asked Margaret as she appeared on the porch with a large plastic tray.

  “Let me get that for you, Miss Margaret,” said Ham Steak. He grunted as he got up to take the tray from her. He rested it on the table and started passing out glasses, before returning to his chair and sucking furiously on the bendy straw.

  ***

  Madison met Jane in the dining room. She was so thankful Jane had insisted on coming with her on this suicidal mission.

  “Just picked these up from the jeweler,” said Jane. She opened up a flat black box with gold accents.

  “Took him long enough,” said Madison. She needed to be getting on the road. The party started in four hours.

  Inside the box, was a bed of black velvet, cradling a silver bracelet with twelve crystals secured with breakaway settings. Each was a different shade of red. Some had light blue spots.

  Madison looked down at her last crystals and hoped the gamble of taking them to the party was worth it. Hopefully she would only need to use one of them.

  “You made sure he put them in the right order?” Madison asked.

  “January through December.” Jane ran her finger over the bracelet.

  Madison flinched at the mention of the code words, reassuring herself that she was the only one who could set them off. The last time she had used a crystal, it was to pull Dana’s brains back into her head, before bringing her back to life.

  December was the one for Contessa. Get close enough to the target. Place the crystal on her person, say the magic word, and the old crone would turn into a block of ice. All that needed to happen after that was to apply force to the new ice sculpture, and no more Contessa. She’d be a pile of melting ice cubes.

  Good-bye, you fucking witch.

  “You’ll need to get her alone,” said Jane. “A woman like Contessa, at a party like this, it won’t be easy. Watch for her to go to the bathroom. It might be your only chance.”

  “Yeah.” But how was she going to do that? Madison didn’t even know where the bathroom was in the place.

  “We’ll need to get in there and do your reconnaissance first,” said Jane. “See where the bathrooms are. See where the kitchen is. Watch for who is keeping an eye on her. Those will be security. They might be wearing earpieces to stay in touch. I’ll be on the lookout for them.”

  “Plus, everyone will be wearing masks,” Madison lamented.

  The more Madison thought about it, the more insane this idea was. But how else was she going to get to Contessa?

  Chapter 84

  Sarah sat on the bed, watching Madison get dressed for the party. “Are you going to be able to move okay with the jeans on under there?”

  Next to Sarah, lay a red masquerade mask and a picture of some model with silky black hair and sultry eyes, from this month’s issue of Italian Vogue. Jane had gotten a bunch of magazines to choose from, and it took a surprisingly long time to pick out just the right face.

  Madison turned around to let Sarah zip up the back of the dress.

  “I hope so.” Madison looked at herself in the mirror. She did look good. Her hair was up in a tight bun. The red evening gown came below her calves, covering up the jeans, which she had hiked up to her knees and secured with safety pins.

  “Jane and I found a way into the party.”

  “No, I don’t want you there.”

  “Maddy, you’re going to need me.”

  Madison turned to look Sarah in the eye. She rested her hands on Sarah’s shoulders. “Who’s going to brew Moonmilk, if something happens to me?”

  “That’s why I need to be there.”

  “Jane’s all I need. She’s used to this sort of thing.”

  Sarah pouted and sat back down on the bed.

  ***

  “Somebody got Preen,” said Captain Folger.

  “Where?” asked Contessa.

  “In his
shop, just the other night.”

  This was interesting. Contessa had told him about the warehouse. Had one of Madison’s people gotten to him? Or, was it the Russians?

  “I see. And where are our friends from Russia?”

  “The ones from Baltimore?”

  “Yes.”

  “They’re gone, too.”

  “Dead?” Contessa said a silent prayer for them to be worm food.

  “Hard to say. My buddy tells me they haven’t been seen since the same night as Preen got it. Plus, they haven’t shown up at their normal watering holes. So my guess is, they either got shot or turned tail and headed back to the motherland. I believe the former.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “One of my men spotted them by the office address we gave you, in DC, but he got called out before he could see what was going on. A second car picked them up about five minutes later, headed out of the city. But, here’s the interesting thing: the drivers were no longer the Russian fellas. Maybe the bodies were in the back seat. Who knows? A hit team could have shot them and made off with the cars. We went into the building, across from the White House a few hours later and someone had done some heavy cleaning in there. So I think a group was waiting for them, popped them, cleaned up quick, and made off with the cars to dump them somewhere. My man had to abandon the cars once they left county limits.”

  It was excellent news, but without seeing the bodies, there was no way to be one hundred percent certain. Contessa would keep looking for them after tonight, just to be sure. But for now, it seemed as though Hector and Dmitri were out of the way, perhaps permanently.

  “Thank you, Mr. Folger. If they do turn up, kindly retire them.”

  “Can do.”

  “By the way, my man Caymen will be in Arlington in a few hours. Is everything ready?”

  “And waiting.”

  “Excellent.”

  Contessa ended the call and walked over to the room’s balcony. Guests were arriving in droves now. Exotic cars rolled up to the front door for the valets to shuttle off to the parking lot on the southeast side of the building. She stopped counting after fifty. There would be over five hundred by the end of the night. Not to mention several arriving by helicopter, each allowed their own landing space on the west lawn.

  It was dark now, so it was unlikely that any of them could see her in her black dress. Jitsuko stood perfectly still, dressed in her O-washi uniform. The gold-embroidered raptors twinkled in the moonlight. She held a porcelain white mask, accented with golden feathers and sapphires.

  “Where is Corrado?” Contessa asked Jitsuko.

  “In his room, getting ready.” Jitsuko’s voice lost its innocence when she wore the uniform. She sounded like a woman in her early twenties, rather than an emotional twelve-year-old girl.

  “Good.” Contessa knew Corrado was in his room. The question was more about how well Jitsuko was paying attention to every detail tonight, and not just enjoying wearing the uniform. “I need you to pay special attention tonight. Mommy is about to become very powerful, and we can’t let anything stop that.”

  Madison was out of the picture. What was left of the Moldens would be at the party begging for a truce. They’d hand over their operation to her and they’d join Madison. But, Contessa reminded herself, there was still room for treachery. With all the volatility in the magical world right now, there was the possibility of an assassination attempt. Jitsuko and Corrado would be her silent bodyguards.

  She turned away from the window to face Jitsuko. “If there is anything out of the ordinary, anything unsettling, you must bring it to Mommy’s attention.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “When I call you, you will enter into the Coral Room and kill the people I designate. You must not hesitate. They are very bad people who wish to hurt me.”

  “They will be dead, ma’am.”

  Just hearing the words gave Contessa a euphoric feeling of power. Jitsuko would drive the blade of her sword through the chests of the remaining Moldens and any couriers stupid enough to accompany them to the party. Dispatching them all via her smoke would be more satisfying, but it was highly likely they’d be wearing crystals to prevent that. However, no crystal could stop three feet of folded steel from penetrating one’s ribcage.

  Contessa smiled. Madison Mosby was dead, the knockout blow, putting her organization in tatters. The Russians were all most certainly dead. Preen was dead, and now the Moldens would be lying dissolved by a Winter Rose before the sun came up. Best of all, Caymen, accompanied by the Bulldogs, was speeding toward the Rose Widow’s mansion to begin tearing it apart, dissecting the Rose Widow’s empire from the inside out.

  Chapter 85

  Madison parked her mousetrap at the edge of the grassy parking lot, not wanting to risk a valet finding any of Sean and Wrench’s surprises. She pulled out her phone and sent Jane a text, letting her know she was here. Jane responded that she was about to go inside the party. The next time Madison would see Jane, she hoped, was sitting next to her in the passenger seat as they slipped away, past the waiting bikers and back to Arlington.

  The night air felt a few degrees colder than back in Virginia. Costumed guests slipped through the cars toward the main house.

  A shiver rolled down Madison’s spine as she surveyed the house and grounds. The place was the size of a museum or a palace, a massive brick facade with rows and rows of windows that glowed unnatural shades of red and green. Balconies hung from some of the upper floors, and people mingled about on them, looking out toward the gardens.

  She ignored all of that and followed the other guests to the front doors, sparing a moment to take one last look at the strange face she was wearing in the rearview mirror of a sports car. The Italian Vogue model smiled back at her. The red-feathered mask looked back at her with its empty eyes—a mask over the mask, she thought.

  Spirited classical music hummed from within the house. Masked doormen, dressed in Renaissance livery, swung open the wide doors. Madison ascended the front steps, and the music grew louder. A gust of warm air swept over her. A slender woman with a clipboard, in a tiger-print gown and mask, met her at the threshold.

  “May I see your invitation, ma’am?” the tiger lady said with a smile.

  With the demeanor of a bored socialite, Madison presented her invitation, hoping against hope that she wasn’t on some watch list, notifying huge guards to pounce on her the moment she set foot in the foyer. The air in her lungs flew from her chest as the seconds ticked by like hours.

  “Thank you,” the tiger lady paused to flip through her guest list, “Miss Mosby. Enjoy the party.”

  Other guests milled about, sipping cocktails from gold-accented glasses. A man in a blue jay-themed mask and tuxedo let out a huge belt of laughter as Madison passed by. A servant dropped his hors d’oeuvre platter, spilling crab puffs on the hardwood floor. Madison’s knees almost gave out from the man’s shock wave.

  “Pull yourself together, jackass,” she muttered to herself. “Just find Contessa, drop a crystal on her and get the hell out.”

  Several guests were wearing earpieces, like the Secret Service, and Madison though of the Club Fever scene in Collateral, where Tom Cruise had to take out several guards before shooting the fat guy at the back of the club. She wished she had some fighting skills, but then she realized these might just be ordinary people and not Contessa’s security. Why would she need her people to have earbuds? Unless...

  Were they looking for her? What difference does it make? I don’t look like me. The concern subsided.

  Bright light emanated from the other end of the main hallway. Something white flew overhead. Madison flinched and relaxed again, taking a deep breath. It was a bird. That was to be expected, right? She’d never been to a sorcerer’s ball before and she suddenly felt like a visitor in a foreign country where she didn’t understand the language, sticking out like a car stopped in the middle of a highway. She wondered how many of these events Nancy had bee
n too or hosted in secret. Was she the center of attention, or did she walk in the shadows?

  Her phone buzzed. It was Jane saying she was in and surveilling the party. She would text back when she had eyes on the target. Relief replaced anxiety, knowing Jane was here and acting as a separate pair of eyes.

  The corridor opened into a grand octagonal salon. Great hallways led off from each wall. Madison had never been in a home with a space so large. The scene felt more like a cathedral. She could put the entire greenhouse in here and then some.

  Ice sculptures towered above the throng of masked guests. Hundreds of people swayed to the orchestra. They were adorned in gowns, elaborate wigs, jackets, and masks, all bristling with sequins and jewelry and feathers. The smells of roasted game birds and rich sauces, pastries, sweets, and ripe fruit filled the air. Those aromas mingled with bouquets of flowers that seemed to be growing from the ice sculptures to give the appearance of clothing and jewelry on some that represented Greek gods.

  Above, a cloud of birds, the same as the one that had just flown over her head, flew in a lazy circle above the partygoers. Their bodies were white, with wings of red, blue and gold, and Madison realized they were supposed to look like beautiful fish circling a massive tank in the air above. Guests threw what looked like miniature comets to the birds, tiny stars that trailed glitter. The birds swooped to snap the comets up before continuing their lazy route. Above the birds was the moon, looking down on everything through a massive skylight.

  The scene overwhelmed Madison. This was the single greatest spectacle she had ever seen, a magical ball showing the true power and wealth of her host.

  A host that is going to die tonight.

  Madison started to shuffle through the crowd, careful not to make eye contact with anyone. A group of elderly women blocked her way. They sipped from tumblers filled with a pink concoction that turned green. One of them sipped again and all of the drinks turned blue.

  Okay, that’s pretty fucking cool.