by L R Deney
“For the moment, but I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
Staci walked up to her and handed her a key. “I need you to take care of the art gallery for me while I’m gone. I don’t know how long that will be, but it’s important that the artists that contribute to it continue to get their recognition. Furthermore, there are charities that depend on the large majority of the profits I donate to them. I can’t think of anyone better than you to take care of this.”
Darcy looked down then held the key close. “I won’t disappoint you.”
“Thank you, I knew I could count on you.” Staci leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips. They shared that moment for several moments before the witch pulled back and walked away. Before Darcy realized it, Staci was gone.
Chapter 16
Friedrich Fromm sat at his desk in his new office, the office reserved for the Speaker. He rather liked the feel of it, it was a little larger than the office he originally had. The blood had long since been cleaned up and Johnathan Ravenford given a decent burial. Now it was all his, and he looked quite comfortable in his seat as he leaned back.
With him in the office were Councilor Jacob Andersson and an intern giving them both an update on the progress of the war. The campaign wasn’t going as smoothly as they had hoped, as Kadmon’s forces had caused a rout for several of Azramoas’ armies almost immediately after their arrival in Hell. So while the Empire of Luciferion was more powerful than anticipated, all was not lost.
“Our forces return to their march after regrouping,” the intern said, reading from the report in his hands. “All except Colonel Zenn’s forces.”
“Why? What happened to Colonel Zenn?” Fromm asked with a raised brow.
“All contact with Colonel Zenn’s forces was lost after arrival. No one knows what happened to her. Theories include the possibility that she was annihilated by the enemy and her golems taken for scrap. Whatever the case, she has vanished… utterly.”
“Yes, but didn’t her army have three-thousand golems?” Andersson asked. “All of that raw magic power and resources gone, just like that?”
“That’s what appears to be, yes….”
“Gods be damned, that was thousands of gold coins used to create her army, how could it have just go missing or be torn to shreds?”
“Calm, Jacob,” Speaker Fromm said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We can always build more golems in the Foundry. In fact, we still are.”
Andersson nodded, allowing himself to cool down. He nodded thoughtfully at the information then exchanged a glance with the Speaker. Fromm nodded looked back to the intern, hands clasping on his desk before him.
“So does the general have a plan for countering the enemy?” he asked.
“He does, the rudimentary plans anyway,” the intern responded. “It involves keeping the legions closer together and taking the city that they had entered Hell through. From there, he said, we’ll have a beachhead in the enemy’s territory. From there on, we can continue sending in reinforcements.”
“That sounds like it may actually work, now that we know exactly what we’re dealing with. Send the general my regards when you leave. Now how about our efforts to find Staci Drenvauder, have we had any luck?”
The intern looked down at his reports and nodded. “Ah yes, a report came in earlier this day when a ripple was detected from the greater Seattle area. It was tracked down to a house in a neighboring city named Kent. It was then several officers of the watch spotted Staci and an accomplice who has since been IDed as… a Melanie Brooks. The two immediately fled via traveling spell, but were pursued.”
Fromm and Andersson leaned forward in excitement.
“Unfortunately, Staci and Melanie ultimately eluded the watch’s hunting party as the pursued parties used multiple traveling spells in rapid succession to throw off the watchmen. Staci Drenvauder’s whereabouts are currently, unfortunately, unknown.”
“Damnit!” exclaimed Andersson.
Fromm stared at the intern momentarily, coldly, dispassionately as he rested his chin on top of his clasped hands. “All right then,” he said before sitting up straight, “that will be—”
“Not so fast!” a deep voice announced from the hallway.
“Oh no…” muttered Andersson while Fromm narrowed his eyes at the doorway and the person who entered.
“Of course it’s you two in here,” Drake Okar said, entering the office with righteous rage.
“Well yes, Okar, this is the Speaker’s office and I’m the Speaker,” retorted Fromm coldly, his eyes forming into slits with his growing annoyance. “Now how can I help you?”
Okar ignored him briefly and looked to the intern. “Tell him about the riots.”
“Riots?”
The intern stammered. “Ah yes, the riots. The slums, correct?” He shuffled through his reports. “Yes, following certain policies enacted by the Council and enforced upon the slums, the entire district erupted into riots. Apparently closing down their bars was an… unpopular decision.”
“Imagine that,” Okar said sarcastically, glaring at Fromm and Andersson. “What were you thinking by using your new powers to raid the slums?”
Andersson stood up in a rage. “How dare you speak to the Speaker that way!”
“How dare I? What? Is he a king now?”
Fromm waved Andersson down. “Level head, my dear friend. Now, I had every right to send that order, Drake. Every right, and every cause. Reports indicated that Staci was seen in the slums after her escape from the capitol. So I sent an order to search the area and place some restrictions on the district. Now that we’re apparently dealing with riots and the City Watch is unable to bring order….” He looked to the intern. “Pass the order that the military be sent in, the situation is now considered an emergency.”
Okar’s eyes widened and bulged. “The military! In the city? Are you out of your mind?”
“Okar, be careful what kind of enemies you make here,” Jacob Andersson warned.
“As far as I’m concerned, you’re already enemies, and enemies of the citizens at that. I believe in government, I believe in order, but this is not order, this is chaos!” Okar turned and stormed out.
“Well….”
“Don’t mind him, Andersson, he’s just become a noisy voice in the Council. I guess with Staci on the run, someone had to take up her place. Speaking of Staci, I think we need to add more hunters to the mix.” The Speaker looked to the intern. “Have a bounty posted, dead or alive, Staci Drenvauder and… oh right, Melanie Brooks, twenty-thousand gold coins. Each. She may be able to elude watchmen, but is she able to elude bounty hunters, I wonder?”
Andersson chuckled softly. “You make me proud, Friedrich.”
“Thank you, Jacob, you’ve taught me much….”
◆◆◆
The address that Theo had found on the Internet the evening prior led here, to a bar called the Runestone. It would figure that a cult of magic-wielding white supremacists would be drawn to it, despite the rules posted in the window: “No hate symbols and no MAGA hats.” That didn’t stop those sorts of people from floating in under the radar, unfortunately.
“Hey, isn’t that the club where we met over there?” Melanie asked, pointing.
Stacia looked over to where her girlfriend’s finger indicated and she arched a brow. Indeed, it was Club Sepulcher, the very place she had spotted Melanie and started working her charm. How interesting that the journey would come almost full circle like that. It was almost ominous. She saw Melanie click at her tongue ring in memory.
“Yeah, that it is,” Staci replied, smirking with fascinated amusement. “Well, if you want to go in there when we’re done here….”
Melanie shrugged, clicking the tongue ring again. “Yeah, maybe.”
Both women had come to Capitol Hill in Seattle during the evening so they could keep themselves camouflaged with dark, hooded jackets, just normal bar hoppers looking for fu
n like anyone else. Anyone searching for them would have to be trying to ID everyone in the area, as there were numerous people in the area doing the same exact thing that they appeared to be. The number one secret to hiding was hiding in plain sight and looking like you belong.
Without any further words said, both women wandered into the bar, hands tightly held.
◆◆◆
Russell the Dark watched the two women enter the bar from across the street, crouched on a rooftop. He bet every cent he had in his name that those two were the ones from last night’s posted bounty. Continuing to surveil the area for a moment to make sure that the two were alone, because one could never be too careful, he studied each person nearby. None of them seemed to be paying the two women any mind. That was good.
He started to check his equipment, his knives that could slice and pierce anything, his arcane pistols, his unbreakable lasso, and the arcane-blocking cuffs and collars. Everything checked out and he looked back across the street at the bar again. Interesting name for a bar….
“Money’s good as mine,” he said to himself, puffing through a cigarette.
But he said that too soon apparently when he spotted two familiar scumbags waltz into the bar after the women. His eyes narrowed when he recognized the Lupus Brothers, both more dangerous and crazier than any other bounty hunters he met. He looked over to Pickler Pete, lying dead a few yards away and shook his head.
“Looks like you’re not the only one I’m dealing with tonight.” Then he stood and made his way for the street below.
◆◆◆
“Nahh, I get all types in here, and I have strict rules against anything you might be talking about,” the bartender and owner said, filling their glasses. “No hate symbols, no MAGA hats, and I enforce them.”
“Those rules aren’t a hundred percent effective,” Staci said, tucking away the printout into her purse. “Fascists are known to use coded language, dog whistling as it’s called, to float their hate under the radar. So have you noticed any regular meetings in here by groups of people that might fit the bill?”
The bartender shrugged. “Sorry, ma’am, like I said, all types of people come in here, some of them in groups, a fair share of the individuals regulars. Like last night, a coven of witches that show up regularly came in, then they started talking about Ouija boards or whatever. I feel for you though, I really do… must be tough investigating those disappearances.”
“Damn. Thank you for the time anyway.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll try keeping an eye open now with you in mind.” Then he walked away to serve another customer.
“Maybe we can try a stakeout, see who shows up?” Melanie suggested.
“Yeah, maybe.” Staci was obviously frustrated. This was her only lead in tracking down the Black Sun and it had apparently led into another dead end. A deep sigh passed through her black, painted lips.
“Try your drink, Staci, it’s actually really good.”
The witch nodded and picked up her glass to take several swallows from it. She grew impressed at how sweet it actually was and clinked her glass jovially against Melanie’s and took another sip.
That was when the door slammed open and two wiry, toned men strolled into the bar, looking pretty much identical, right down to the shaven heads and the black leather, knives and chains. Both had a dark, cruel grin on their faces and seemed to be laughing at some kind of private joke. Their strangely golden eyes swept the bar and landed on both Melanie and Staci.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here, Jack?”
“Why I don’t know, Jim, looks like a couple of pretty ladies to me. Ha ha ha.”
“Hey you two,” spoke up the barkeeper, “no weapons allowed. So either you leave or I’m calling the cops.”
Jim giggled madly. “Did you hear something, Jack?”
“I do believe it was the buzzing of an insect,” Jack replied with a snicker.
“Yeah, yeah, very funny, now get out of here and scram,” the bartender demanded.
“It’s getting really fucking annoying too!”
A chain lashed out and wrapped around the bartender’s neck and pulled him forward so hard, he fell over choking. People screamed and yelped, shocked by the violence as the one named Jack dragged the bartender across the floor by the neck. This was not a rough and tumble type of bar where brawls were common, it had always been a calmer, safe place to drink.
“That’s enough!” Staci shouted, a wave of her hand causing the chain to break from a distance.
“Oh, well, well, well, look at that Jack, I think it might be her.”
“I think you’re right, Jim.”
“Oh damn, you two look like a walking, talking cliché,” Staci said with a wide smirk on her face. “Did they run out of ideas for villains?”
Both of the Lupus Brothers looked at each other and back at Staci. Four golden eyes narrowed, neither of the twins looking particularly amused. One reached for one of his knives when it was shot out of his hand from behind, the weapon hitting the floor and suddenly bursting into dark purple flame and smoke.
“WHAT THE FUUUUUUCK!!!” Jim roared, spinning around.
“Those bounties are mine, mangy mutts,” Russell said, both pistols drawn.
“Motherfucker! Motherfucker!! Who are you to tell us they’re yours? We’ll fucking eat you!”
Both of the Lupus brothers leapt to attack Russell with knives, and completely forgot why they were here. Staci took the opportunity to check up on the bartender, but Melanie already had it taken care of. The bartender was sitting up and gasping for breath. Off in the distance, sirens were drawing closer, someone had called the cops.
“Okay, time to get out of here,” Staci said amid the ruckus caused by the twins’ and cowboy’s fight. “They’re bounty hunters, and more are sure to show up soon enough.”
“How did they find us?” Melanie asked, standing up as Staci led her hurriedly out of the bar.
“Bounty hunters are very good at tracking down magic use. Which means I have to use it sparingly around here.”
“Why do we have bounty hunters after us?” Melanie asked while they jogged down the street. Behind them, one of the brothers got defenestrated.
“Someone couldn’t succeed at their own dirty work. I suspect Azramoas.”
As they raced down the road, they passed Club Sepulcher and saw a familiar face slip in among the crowd outside. It was Miles Johnson, unmistakably. Staci narrowed her eyes as she came to a dead stop. Miles momentarily noticed her and hurried into the club. He must have been on his way to the Runestone. Taking this opportunity, she followed with Melanie close behind.
Pursuing the Nazi required her to pay a cover fee for herself and Melanie, and then they headed in. Inside was the usual sights and sounds, heavy Gothic club music drowning out everything else while people danced around in black outfits and got drunk at the bar. She briefly caught sight of Miles among the crowd again, but then he disappeared behind a group of people.
Determined not to lose him, she pushed through the crowd, Melanie struggling to follow. Eventually they reached the other end of the club, where, above, the DJ played his tracks. Miles, however, was nowhere in sight. She tried to search the crowd with her eyes again, but there wasn’t a single trace of him as far as she could see. Understandable, considering the club was virtually packed with people.
“Shit.”
Melanie patted her arm. “It’s okay; we know where their meeting place is.”
“Yeah, you’re right, but it’s still infuriating. We almost had one, alone.”
Melanie nodded with supportive understanding.
Suddenly a man dressed in a silk suit with a red undershirt and black tie walked up to them. His black hair was styled immaculately and he wore a goatee. Staci and Melanie stood ready for anything as he approached, but he only smiled at them.
“Staci Drenvauder, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, offering a hand.
Staci accepted the handshake and e
yed him warily. “Who are you? What do you want?”
The man offered his handshake to Melanie next. “Well, you don’t know me obviously, but I know for a fact that you are well acquainted with my master. I serve Kadmon, and I’m here to check up on you. There’s some worry that you might not be living up to your side of the pact again, so we want to make sure that you’re looking hard for the Crown of Lucifer.”
“I’m currently hunting Nazis,” Staci said with a glare.
The man’s eyes blazed crimson. “How are Nazis more important than the crown?”
“Look, Mister…?”
“DeVos.”
“Mister DeVos, my pursuit of the Nazis has much to do with the search for the crown,” Staci lied.
“Oh?”
“Yes, it’s a mystic order known as the Order of the Black Sun. They go back to the Third Reich itself and were responsible for Nazi Germany’s acquisition of many magical artifacts, a lot of them deeply religious in nature.”
“So you suspect they know where the crown is.”
“Yes.”
“Very well, but remember if you’re deceiving me, you’re deceiving my master, and you know very well that she won’t be very happy with that.” The man winked.
Staci sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
A scream erupted across the din of music, followed by more. All three heads turned to see what the matter was, and a pair of whirling chains was approaching over the crowd. People were being shoved aside until the identical faces of the Lupus Brothers came into view. Dancers tried to get out of the way as fast as they could.
“Where is Staci and Melanie?” shouted one of them. “We can smell them in here.”
“It would seem that you’re in a bit of trouble,” Mr. DeVos said.
“Azramoas has released bounty hunters to track us down,” explained the witch.
“Troubling.”
“Jim! There they are!” the one obviously named Jack cried.
“Get out of here, I’ll cover you. My master has too much invested in you to be bothered by this rabble.”
