by W H Lock
"You know banks, right? Like where you have an account to keep your money?"
Rube nodded.
"Well, banks are useful in the magical community too. Gold is the primary form of money, and it's a bit hard to keep a lot of it on hand. Which means we have bank accounts too. Of course, it's also a useful place to keep magical artifacts and other things. And when you have a bunch of Ley energy just sitting around, it attracts more and more. So, banks become these natural reservoirs of energy."
"And like any bank, there's always someone who wants to rob it," Oscar said, leaning in.
Karen nodded. "Except tappers don't go after the gold. They tap the energy and take it. They drain the whole place dry like," she gestured to Freddy, "like a vampire."
Freddy leaned back further in his chair and said, "Well, he sounds like a pretty groovy dude."
"That's our in. Now we just need to find a way to give him the line, set the hook, and start the play. Any ideas?"
"What about a Jamaican Sandwich?" Eno said.
"We could do a Run Up with a Big Store," Freddy said.
"How about we skip all that, slip over the wall and crack the safe?" Oscar said.
Quinn shook his head, "Sandwich, Eno? You may as well email this guy that you're a Prince from Walla-Walla Land that needs someone to hold on to his useless gold bullion."
Eno laughed and shrugged.
"I don't think we'll be able to pull him in with a Big Store either, Fred. He's not the sort that goes out shopping for bargains. This guy is a tapper. That's what will draw him. The hook has to be something that will bring him out. Once he's out from cover, we can work him to give us the Skull."
"But how?" Karen asked, "I mean, I've run a few stock scams that might work."
Everyone shook their heads no.
Quinn shook his head and said, "No. I don't think a stock scam is going to work here. Well, maybe. We could get him to over-leverage himself and then get him to sell us the Skull to wipe it clean. That could work." Quinn stared off into the darkness of the empty warehouse.
"But it's not sexy," Oscar said with some disdain.
"No," Quinn said. "It's not! Stock scams are boring!"
Freddy laughed.
"This needs sizzle. This needs to be something elegant. Something that he thinks we did him a favor by doing."
"That seems like kind of a high bar," Rube said. "Why would he thank you for stealing something from him?"
"Because the best cons work that way, Rube," Quinn said. "And the very best ones get the mark to come back when they have more money."
"That's great an all, but what are we gonna do about this tapper fella?" Rube said.
"Rube's right," Oscar said. He leaned in over the table and said, "Look, we can screw around with this for the better part of a year trying to get him to come out of his hidey-hole. I think we should go in there after him. Karen cracks the wards. We go over the wall. Eno and Freddy take care of the dog/human/ghoul security. Quinn handles the safe. Boom, we're out."
Karen leaned in. "Oscar is right. We go over the wall and crack the safe? I know I can take his outer wards. His inner ones won't be that much harder," she said.
The group nodded in agreement. There was an outburst of conversation as each of the team brought up more obstacles they'd probably find in there and various ways around them.
Quinn held his hands up and got them quiet. "Okay, I guess everyone thinks the best way is the direct way?"
They all nodded.
Quinn shrugged and said, "Alright. We'll go over the wall. Rube, get the van ready. I got us reservations at a steakhouse downtown," Quinn nodded at Freddy. "That way we can all enjoy some food together before this gets going. Who's ready for some dinner?"
A small cheer went up around the table. The team stood up and stretched. They babbled excitedly to each other as Quinn led them through the darkness of the unlit warehouse and out into the night of Los Angeles. Rube hopped in the driver's seat of the unmarked white van they had parked just outside. The other's piled into the back except for Freddy who insisted on riding shotgun. Karen scooted across the middle bench to make room for Quinn.
Quinn shook his head. "I'll lock up. There are reservations for a small dining room, so they're expecting us. I'll meet you there," Quinn said as he shut the side door of the van. He waved to the van as it pulled out into East LA traffic. He pulled the garage door down and locked it from the outside. Without turning around, Quinn checked the time on his watch and said, "You boys are running a bit late, aren't you?"
"The boss wants a word, Quinn," someone said behind him.
Quinn turned around to find a matched set of thugs in suits still wearing sunglasses standing a few feet away from him. In the spot so recently vacated by the van was a white stretch limo with the door open.
"By all means, let's not keep the Boss of Los Angeles waiting," Quinn said and got into the limo that would take him to a Rebel Angel.
Chapter Thirteen
When the door of the white stretch closed, Quinn found himself someplace else. He was seated on an overstuffed white leather chair in a white room. The walls were punctuated by bookshelves, also white that contained books bound in blood red leather. The sharp contract made the red even more lurid. Quinn jumped at the sharp snap of the wood burning in the fireplace off to his left. He looked at the sides of his overstuffed white leather chair to see if anyone was standing behind him. There wasn't. As far as he could tell, without any revelations magics, he was alone.
"How are things going, Quinn?"
Quinn snapped back around in his seat. A few feet away from him was a woman seated in an identical white leather chair. The woman's shoulder length red hair was styled to look wind-swept as if had been gliding through the air. Her skin was a glowing bronze. She wore a white suit that had been cut for a slim man. A suit that strained to contain some of the curves of her figure. This woman was the shining picture of Californian health until you looked her in the eyes.
The eyes were black. An endless starless void that had stared into eternity without blinking for ages with no end before the world had even been a word on the lips of God.
"Oh, Asbiel! How you been, pal?" Quinn said quickly to cover his surprise. "It's been, wow, how long?"
"I believe it's been a few years since you paid your respects, Quinn. But then it hasn't been that long since you were last in my fair city?"
"What? No, it can't have been more than a year since we last spoke. Oh, I mean, sure, time slips by, but we're all old friends, right?"
Asbiel smiled and said, "You can shut up now." She picked up a glass of red wine that hadn't been there a moment before. She swirled it, examining the tendrils of liquid that fell back into the bowl of the glass. As skilled as Quinn was with illusion, he was never quite sure if the angel was able to conjure all of this into existence from nothing or spun it all from light.
"Do you know what I love about LA?" she said after taking a drink from the glass.
Quinn shook his head no.
"It's the movies. I can't help it, but I love them. Ever since I saw Gone With the Wind, I just knew I had to be out here." She shook her head. "Do you know how much work I've put into this city?"
"A lot," Quinn said.
"That's right, Quinn. A lot. A lot of hard work. A lot of sweat. And a great deal of other people's blood." Her finger toyed with the top of the glass of very red wine. She turned back and looked at Quinn with her endless black eyes. She stood up and took the few steps that separated them and closed the space between them. She planted both hands on top of Quinn's. She clenched her hands. Pain lanced through them. She leaned into his face. "Do you know what else I love about LA?"
He could feel the scent of her breath on his skin like a hot scaring desert wind. He nodded and said, "That it's really quiet out here and nothing happens unless you say it happens?"
"That's right, Quinn! You remembered! I'm so proud of you!" She gave his cheek a little pinch and a pat. She stood
back up and walked back around to lean against the chair. "Now, I don't mind a little graft now and then. A quick little game to keep things sharp. It's fun to watch, and it keeps the locals on their toes. So, when someone like you blows through town on a day trip out to the hills, it doesn't bother me that you don't stop in, Quinn."
"I'm glad that you are so under--"
She held a lacquered finger up to silence him. "I didn't tell you that you could speak. Now, what I do mind is when two well-known confederates like Quinn and Oscar come back just a few days later and make that same day trip out to the hills without saying anything. It makes me feel like I'm being ignored. Do you think I want to be ignored?" She arched one of her perfect eyebrows at Quinn.
Quinn waited a moment before answering, "No?"
"Again with the gold star answers, Quinn. I can see why you do so well at this. Now. What really makes me angry," the logs in the fire picked that exact moment to splinter open with an impressive snap. Quinn did his best to not jump at the sound.
"What really twists my wings is the idea that two class operators like Quinn and Oscar roll into town with a team. A team that starts asking around about one of the low-key locals that never forgets to send me a Christmas card, occasionally treats me to box seats at the opera, and here's the important part, Quinn, so I want you to pay attention to this part, a local that doesn't cause me any trouble." Asbiel stepped around the arm of the chair and took a seat. She took a moment to smooth a wrinkle out of her pants.
"Now, is there anything you want to tell me?"
Quinn cleared his throat and said, "I can assure you, your greatness--"
Asbiel held up a finger.
"Your wingedness?"
She nodded.
"I can assure you, your wingedness, neither Oscar nor I have any desire to cause you trouble."
"Quinn, do you know what my job was as an Angel of the Lord?"
Quinn shook his head. He had no idea.
"I was the Valley of the Lord. Now, what that means you wouldn't understand but I had a lot to do with herding. I know bullshit when I smell it. And I am smelling a lot of bullshit right now, Quinn. And I hate bullshit. It's why I left that job. The smell makes me angry, Quinn. When I smell bullshit like this, I just start to lose it, and I want to rip things to shreds. I want to summon my flaming sword and remind the world what the first job of an Angel really was! Let me ask you again; are you going to cause me any trouble?"
The anger of an Angel is a terrifying thing. Quinn could feel it in the air around him. The palpable rage warped the world around Asbiel, forming a sheen around the Rebel Angel. It was moments like this that Quinn had no problems remembering that Angels were among the most powerful magical beings in the universe. The only beings more powerful were Princes of Hell, Archangel's, and Dragons.
"The last thing I want is to cause you even the slightest amount of trouble, your wingedness," Quinn said in all seriousness.
"I know who raised you, Quinn, so don't think you're getting by on me. I don't want what you pulled in Cleveland happening here. This is a free and open city, and I plan on keeping it that way, okay?"
"Cleveland? What's that got to do with me?"
"You're telling me you didn't take Wyn Driag for $4 million in bullion in a fixed game?"
"I heard it was $3.5 million in assorted gold bars and millennial finesses at a fake auction for a Celtic harp, but I like the sound of a poker game better. Let’s go with a poker game. Do you think I'd be walking the streets of anywhere if the Dragon of Cleveland thought I stole anything from him? Especially gold? In a poker game?"
Asbiel nodded at that. Dragons weren't known for giving up their gold easily. After a moment she said, "Alright, Quinn. You can go. I'd better not hear about any nonsense or ruckus on Rodeo drive, or there will be Hell to pay. Literally."
"Gotcha. No nonsense ruckus on Rodeo Drive. Hey, can I get your boys to drop me off at the restaurant? I booked a reservation, and that place was hard to get."
Asbiel rolled her eyes and waved a few fingers absently to someone that Quinn couldn't see. Suddenly, he was hit by a blast of cool California night as the car door of the stretch limo opened. Two hands reached in and pulled him out into the night. The car door slammed, and the limo was off before Quinn could get any sense of who had grabbed him or where he was at. When he finished spinning around, Quinn found himself in front of the restaurant where he'd made reservations.
At that moment Oscar came out of the building's doors with his cell phone in his hand. He stopped when he saw Quinn and said, "Hey where you been? We were getting worried. What took so long."
"Nothing, don't worry about it. I've got it under control. It's nothing," Quinn said. He hoped that if he kept repeating that it was nothing he'd start to believe it. Having the Chief Angel in the City of Angels annoyed with him was not where he wanted to start a job off at.
Chapter Fourteen
Rube slid into a chair on the side of the table between Freddy and Eno. Rube had never seen two people desperate to ignore each other. Freddy was pointedly searching dog collars with real silver spikes while Eno had found a broom handle he was cutting into a stake.
Rube watched the aggressively silent back and forth between the two men for a minute then asked, "Do you mind if I ask y'all some questions?"
The two men looked at each other, shrugged, and grunted.
Rube pointed to Freddy, "So if you're a vampire," and he turned to Eno, "And you're werewolf does that mean y’all hate each other like in cats and dogs sorta way or is it something more personal?"
"Both," the men answered at the same time.
"Alright, fair enough," Rube said.
When no other questions popped up, the two men went back to what they had been doing.
"Do Y’all mind if I ask how Y’all got like Y’all are?"
The two men looked at Rube for a long hard moment.
"Being turned into a vampire? It's pretty much how you think it is," Freddy said. "But worse. Your life is slowly sucked out of you, you're covered in your own blood, and you can see the exact moment you're going to die, but you don't care because it feels so good. It's the most terrifying orgasm you've ever had. And then you're held there. And brought back painful inch by painful inch to this world. You spend the rest of your very long unlife chasing that high. You keep hoping each bite will be the one that brings it all back."
"Wow," Rube said. "So, it's like you got the best hit of heroine ever, and you've spent decades trying to get that hit again." He stared at the much older man with his mouth slightly open and without blinking. Then he asked, "Now, it's like noon out there now. Why can you be walking around? I thought y'all burst into flames or something at just the brush of a sun ray."
Freddy put his phone down. He gave it some thought before answering, "That's just a bunch of movie nonsense. Vampires can be in direct sunlight. It's hard to see and painful. But as you get older, it gets less and less. When I first started out, I couldn't be awake during the day. Even being inside, it was too much. Now? Meh," the man shrugged.
Rube turned to Eno, but the other man interrupted anything the kid might say with, "No, I didn't get bit."
Freddy snorted.
"What?" Eno said to Freddy. Even Rube heard the invitation to violence in the werewolf's voice.
Freddy took a long moment to think about accepting that invitation but eventually shook his head.
The warehouse was filled with the sound of the one man carving a wooden stake while the other man tapping on a smartphone.
"Do Y’all mind if I ask you another question?"
Neither man looked up or answered.
"What's going on with their eyes?"
Eno and Freddy gave each other significant looks.
"You mean Quinn, Oscar, and Karen?" Freddy asked.
"Yeah! I mean, I ain't never seen nothing like that. Oscar's eyes are like what you think Ireland looks like after a spring storm. Karen's are like the night sky were made of the deepe
st softest black velvet that you could just be folded into, and Quinn's. His is like you took a lightning bolt and stuck it in a blue bottle. Is it like the magic is just shooting straight out of their eyeballs or what?"
"Look, kid," Freddy said, gently. "There's something you need to know about working with magi."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Eno said. "The thing is, you can't ever--"
Just then the mages, Quinn, Oscar, and Karen, burst into the warehouse through the front door. Karen and Oscar were babbling excitedly to each other as they crossed the distance to where the three men were seated.
Quinn held his arms wide and said, "How the Hell are my favorite vampire, werewolf and driver doing? Huh? Guys, you're going to love what Karen found out. Karen!"
With a quick gesture, Quinn lowered the lights in the warehouse. Karen stepped forward and clapped her hands in front of her at chest height. She kept her elbows tight against her side and moved her hands and arms through a series where she drew a box in the air, lines of fire floated in the air where her hands passed. She spread her hands wide and fanned the square out, creating a repeating spiral of squares. She bisected the repeating squares with a series of obverse triangles, drawn from the same lines of fire that she had summoned for the squares. Runes flared to live in the spaced between the lines. Karen raised her hands up to her shoulder and threw her arms wide. The complex shape spun and flew away from her. The lines burned as they passed through the table. In the wake of their passing, a scene was drawn in the flickering orange and reds of Karen's magic.
What was etched in the air was a perfect rendering of Oswyn the Great and Powerful's hillside estate. Little figures shambled along inside the walls of the estate. Trees swayed in the unfelt wind.
"Wow," Oscar said as he came in the room. "Is that real time?"
"I wish," Karen said. "I was able to construct it from the topographical maps from the county surveyor's office, public satellite maps, and from Eno's observations. The weather effects I added, of course."
