Modern Sorcery: A Jonathan Shade Novel (6 page)

The car swerved wildly and bounced up over the curb, plowing through a wooden fence.
 
The warrior flew off the roof, leaving his sword stuck through the car and the pizza guy’s skull, and the car slammed into a tree.
 
Steam hissed out from under the crumpled hood.

The warrior rose and started toward the Escort.
 
I gunned the engine, bounced over the curb and through the smashed section of fence, and plowed into the warrior.
 
His body flipped up like a rag doll and came down behind me.
 
I did a one-eighty and drove over him again.

The passenger door swung open, and Naomi staggered out.
 
Blood dripped from her forehead.
 
I bolted from my car and helped her to the passenger side of the Firebird.

“You’re going to be all right,” I said.
 
“I’ll get you to a hospital.”
 
I glanced at the pizza guy.
 
He was dead.

I put Naomi into the passenger seat, and as I raced around to the driver’s side, I saw the warrior sit up.

“You have got to be shitting me,” I said.

I leaped into the car, threw it into reverse, and stomped on the accelerator.
 
Grass and dirt flew forward as we raced backward and over the warrior a third time.
 
I heard a satisfying
thunk
as the back of my car smacked into him.
 
I shifted to drive and bounced over the bastard a fourth time for good measure and aimed for the street.

I heard sirens in the distance.

When I looked into the rearview mirror, I saw the warrior sit up again, but by then, we were on the road.
 
The Firebird skidded a bit when it hit pavement, but the tires caught and we raced down the street.

“Well,” I said.
 
“That was fun.”

“Seems like old times,” Naomi said.

“Nearest hospital is what, Porter?”

She shook her head.
 
“I don’t need a hospital.
 
I’m just a bit shaken.”

I rubbed my aching ribs and thought about the poor pizza guy.
 
There was nothing I could do for him, of course, but he gave his life to try to get Naomi to safety.
 
It felt wrong to just leave him there.
 
I forced myself to consider things I could control.
 
I glanced at Naomi, who stared out the window, holding one hand to her bleeding forehead.

“So the Terminator back there was after some crystals?
 
Care to tell me about them?”

“I don’t have them.”

“That doesn’t help me,” I said.

“I didn’t hire you to help with this,” Naomi said.
 
“I hired you to prove my father innocent.”

“Seems to me this is a little bigger than that.
 
You’re going to need help.
 
That was a Sekutar warrior back there.”

Naomi nodded.

“So you need my help.
 
Talk to me.
 
Tell me about the crystals.”

She hesitated.

“Tell me,” I said.

“Fine.
 
My father was the custodian of one of three crystals that were supposed to hold part of an ancient sorcerer’s soul, but there isn’t much to tell you now because they were destroyed.”

“How and when?”

She shrugged.
 
“I wouldn’t know.”

“So for all you know, they weren’t destroyed.”

I stopped at a red light and glanced in the rearview, half expecting to see the warrior.

“They were destroyed,” Naomi said.
 
“Trust me on that.”

“In that case, do you know who might want these crystals?
 
If we can nail that down, we might be able to figure out who sicced Captain Indestructible on us.”

“Most wizards would want them if they knew they existed, but conventional wisdom is that they’re a myth.”

In my experience, mythology was rarely complete fiction.
 
“Who would know different?”

“The people above my father at DGI.
 
Al Davidson and Anselma Kaiser.”

“I know Al.
 
Who’s this Anselma person?”

“She used to run the Berlin facility.
 
She moved to the States two years ago to take over the Denver branch.
 
She’s more of a figurehead here since Al runs the division for her.
 
She has an office here, but she’s practically retired.
 
My father only met her a few times.
 
I met her once.
 
She’s a royal bitch.”

The light turned green.
 
“I’ll keep that in mind.
 
Maybe I should set an appointment to talk to her.”

“Good luck with that.
 
She’s been in Switzerland the last few months.”

“Cool.
 
Want to go skiing?”

She just looked at me.

CHAPTER SIX

Kelly Chan taught at her dojo on East Colfax.
 
When I pulled up and parked, Naomi shook her head.

“No, Jonathan.
 
I can’t be here.”

“It’s safe here.”

“For you.”

“For you too.
 
Kelly will protect you.”

“She’d rather see me dead.”

I couldn’t argue with that point.
 
“What she’d like to do and what she will do are sometimes different things.”

“Sometimes?”

I shrugged.

We got out of the car, and I did a quick walk-around to assess the damage.
 
The front end seemed fine, though the license plate was bent.
 
The back end had a big dent in the bumper.
 
It could have been worse.

We entered the dojo.
 
A class was in session.
 
Red and blue mats lay on the floor, and full-length mirrors lined the long, back wall so the students could see themselves practicing.
 
This evening’s class consisted of underprivileged youth.
 
Kelly loved working with kids, teaching them discipline and self-defense.
 
It was her way of giving back.
 
The difference here was that the kids weren’t tortured if they screwed up.

Kelly saw us come in.
 
She had one of her students take over the class and pointed me to her office.
 
She did not look pleased to see us.
 
Kelly stood five foot four in her current barefoot state and wore a black gi and pants on her slender frame.
 
She entered the office behind us and closed the door.

“You got your ass kicked,” she said.
 
“Again.”
 
She frowned.
 
“You’re making me look bad.”

“You should see the other guy.
 
Not a scratch on him.”

“One man did this to you?”
 
She shook her head.
 
“You’re a disgrace.”
 
She glanced over at Naomi then gave me a hard stare.
 
“And who said you could bring that bitch into my dojo?”

I stepped between Kelly and Naomi.
 
“Calm down, Kelly.”

“I’m always calm, Jonathan.
 
Get that whore out of here.”

“I’m sorry,” Naomi said.
 
“We should go.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said.
 
“Kelly sees it as a sign of weakness.”

“True colors are hard to hide,” Kelly said.

“Naomi, could you give us a minute?
 
Just wait at the entrance, but don’t leave the dojo.”

She nodded and left us alone in the office.
 
I watched her through the window as she sat down in the waiting area and picked up an issue of
Black Belt Magazine
.

Kelly gave me a disappointed look.
 
“Tell me you didn’t hook up with her again.”

“It’s not like that,” I said.
 
“She’s a client.”

“Whatever she’s paying is not enough.”

“There’s—”

“Who kicked your ass?”

I took a deep breath.
 
“A Sekutar.”

“Impossible.”

“I’m glad you think I could hold my own against a Sekutar, but—”

“They’re all dead, Jonathan.
 
Well, all but me.”

“That’s what I thought too, but look at me.”

She looked me up and down, frowning the entire time.
 
“What happened?”

I filled her in on the day’s events.

“So you ran over him four times and he still got up?”

I nodded.

So did she.
 
“So there are more Sekutar.”

“At least one and he’s one tough bastard.”

“There may be more.”

“Could be.
 
Look, I need you to watch over Naomi.”

“Hell no.”

“Show a little sympathy.
 
She lost both her parents in the past twenty-four hours, and now someone’s trying to kill her.”

“If the Sekutar was sent to kill her, she’d be dead.
 
Someone wants those crystals, and they think she has them.”

“Must be a wizard.
 
A strong one.”

Kelly nodded.
 
There was no way a Sekutar would align him- or herself with anything less than a powerful wizard.
 
Kelly siding with me was an exception, but that’s a different story for another time.

I eased myself into a chair and winced.

Kelly raised an eyebrow.

“Ribs,” I said.

She walked over and pushed on them.
 
It hurt like hell. “Don’t be a baby.
 
They aren’t broken.”

“They hurt like a son of a bitch.”

“Just bruised.
 
Want me to tape them up for you?”

I shook my head.
 
“I just want you to take care of Naomi until I get back.”

“Where are you going?”

“The office.
 
I need to pick up my gun.”

“Like that will do you any good.”

“Might slow him down a bit.”

“Might just make him mad.
 
You’re better off with a sword.”

“Oh yeah, that will be inconspicuous.”

“Nobody will mess with you.”

“Except the cops.”

She shrugged.
 
“So after you get your little toy, what’s your plan?”

“The usual.
 
Kick a few hornets’ nests, see what flies out.”

“You don’t think Al is involved?”

“Oh, I know he’s involved, but I can’t see him sending a Sekutar after Naomi or after some crystals.
 
He’s an old friend of the family and wouldn’t need to recruit anyone.
 
He could just go get them himself without the extra fuss.”

“And the murder/suicide?”

“I suppose it could be unrelated, but that seems unlikely, so it has to tie in somehow.”

“I should go with you when you start kicking the nests.”

I cocked a thumb toward Naomi in the waiting room.
 
“What about her?”

Kelly looked over at Naomi.
 
“She’s not too bright.
 
She’s on her cell phone.”

“Shit.”

I started to get up, but Kelly motioned for me to stay put.
 
She opened the office door.
 
“Naomi, hang up the phone.”

“I’m just trying to get someone to help Jonathan,” she said.

“He doesn’t need your help.”

“He needs a healer.”

“He needs more training.
 
Don’t bring any of your wizard friends over here.
 
Any of them could be in league with whoever sent the Sekutar.”

“I’m not stupid, Kelly.
 
I’m calling a healer friend of mine who is not associated with DGI at all.
 
And she’s available to help Jonathan tonight.”

“I don’t trust you wizards.”

Naomi approached the door.
 
“You probably don’t trust anyone.”

“I trust Jonathan.”

“In spite of what happened to you, not all wizards are evil.”

“I don’t care.”

I pushed myself to my feet.
 
The effort sent shards of pain shooting through my ribs.
 
Even breathing hurt.
 
“That’s enough, you two.”

“Lina can help you tonight, Jonathan.
 
You remember her, right?”

I nodded and looked at Kelly.
 
“Lina’s cool.”
 
I turned to Naomi.
 
“But she won’t be able to do me any good.”

“She won’t be trying to hurt you,” Naomi said.
 
“So maybe she can help.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”
 
I knew from experience that direct magic in any form simply doesn’t affect me.
 
I wished there were exceptions, but I didn’t make the rules.

“Can we at least let her try?”

I looked at the cut on Naomi’s forehead and thought about how her back must be hurting from being slammed into the wall and the residual pain she might feel from the car crash now that the adrenaline was fading away and figured she could use the healing.
 
“All right,” I said.
 
“I’d love to be proven wrong.”

“I’m going with you,” Kelly said.

“Bring some beer, and we’ll have a party.”

“Let me bring my sword,” Kelly said.
 
“
Then
we’ll have a party.”