They were dressed in black suits and ties, and wore sunglasses. Their features were all strange, exaggerated and distorted – a nose too big here, a mouth too wide there, bushy caterpillar brows, crooked teeth… They weren’t grotesque-looking by any means, but they were definitely odd. Now that they were close enough, I could see another black-suited man wearing sunglasses behind the wheel of the van. It didn’t escape me that he remained in the driver’s seat and that he left the engine running.
The Blacksuits spread out and trained their guns on us. One of them, a guy with overlarge ears, spoke in a toneless voice. “Give us the clown and no one gets hurt.”
SEVEN
“Excuse me?” I said.
Instead of replying to me, Big-Ears motioned to a couple of companions – a woman with short, fire-engine-red hair and a man whose nose resembled a vulture’s beak. They nodded and moved toward Jinx, keeping their guns pointed at me as they went. I appreciated the implied compliment on my threat level, but I was still trying to wrap my head around the idea that they were apparently here for Jinx. They’d somehow known where to find him, and more importantly, they seemed to know who and what he really was.
I aimed my trancer at the two Blacksuits headed for Jinx.
“I hate to disappoint you, but that’s
my
clown. And I’m not about to give him up without a fight.”
Redhead and Vulture-Beak hesitated and looked to their boss for instruction. Big-Ears waved them on.
“We’re carrying real guns that shoot real bullets,” he said. “A
lot
of bullets. If we fire, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.”
He continued to speak in a nearly emotionless voice, as if he were having a casual conversation instead of being in the middle of conducting what appeared to be a kidnapping.
I became aware of a tingling at the base of my skull then, and I realized the Blacksuits were all Incubi. Ideators can sense Incubi, although we can’t sense other Ideators. Incubi are able to detect the presence of their kind even more strongly, and I imagined Jinx’s skull was tingling so hard right now, it probably felt as if his head would explode.
Big-Ears confirmed it for me when his thin lips twitched in what I assumed was an approximation of a smile and said, “And unlike us, you won’t heal once the sun sets.”
Redhead and Vulture-Beak had reached Jinx by then. They took up positions on either side of him, and with their free hands, each took hold of one of his arms.
“Have no fear, brother,” Redhead said. “You’ll soon be free.”
Jinx’s eyes were still sore and swollen, but tears no longer streamed down his cheeks.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” he said. He aimed his trancer at the redhead and shot a multicolored beam of concentrated M-energy at her face. He hadn’t used his trancer lately – Night Jinx preferred using his personal stock of deadly toys when working – and it had a full charge. Jinx had his weapon set on high, and the force of the beam caused the woman’s head to snap back and sent her sunglasses flying. She flew backward several feet and hit the asphalt hard. If she hadn’t been an Incubus, there’s a good chance a blast that strong would’ve taken her head off. Incubi might not be at their full strength during the day, but they’re still hardier than humans.
Before Jinx could turn and fire on Vulture-Beak, the Blacksuit jammed the muzzle of his 9mm against the underside of Jinx’s chin.
“If I splatter your brains all over the ground, you’ll still heal when the sun sets, but you know how hard it is to properly regenerate brain tissue. You want to risk living the rest of your life without all your marbles?”
“Why not?” Jinx said. “You lot aren’t especially bright, and it hasn’t seemed to do you any harm.”
“Funny,” Vulture-Beak said, and then in a swift motion, he pulled the gun away from Jinx’s neck and slammed the butt hard against the side of Jinx’s head. Jinx moaned, but he didn’t go down. He did lose his grip on his trancer, which fell to the ground.
I aimed my trancer at the Blacksuit and was about to fire when a gun went off, and a chunk of asphalt near my feet exploded.
I turned to see Big-Ears pointing his 9mm at me.
His lips curled slightly in what I think was supposed to be a sneer. “The next move you make will be your last, clown oppressor.”
“Me? I’m the best friend a clown ever had!”
I looked to Jinx to back me up, but he was so groggy from the blow to his head, I wasn’t sure he’d heard me.
Vulture-Beak hit him one more time for good measure, and Jinx slumped into the man’s arms, semiconscious. Vulture-Beak half-walked, half-carried Jinx toward the van while a couple more Blacksuits took hold of the redhead – who hadn’t come to yet – and hauled her back to the van. They all piled in, and once more I wondered how they could all fit inside, especially now that they had Jinx with them.
And then it hit me.
Brother. Clown oppressor.
They were all clowns, at least they were in their Night Aspects. And one of the primary clown skills was being able to fit an impossible amount of people into a small car.
“One last thing,” Big-Ears said. “Put your trancer on the ground and kick it to me. Then do the same with his.”
Crap! So much for trying to shoot out their tires as they tried to make their getaway. I did as he said, and then he had me do the same with my wisper. He crouched down to pick them up with his free hand, keeping his gun pointed at me the whole time. Then he backed toward the van, climbed into the front passenger seat, and slammed the door shut. The van peeled out and roared toward the street.
I didn’t know what else to do, so I started running after them. I’d already memorized the license number, not that it would do me any good. The Shadow Watch has operatives working in all the major police departments around the world, but even though I had contacts in the Chicago PD, I doubted they’d be able to locate the van in time to do Jinx any good.
I told myself that if the Blacksuits wanted to kill either of us, they could’ve done so easily. Besides, they’d acted as if they were rescuing Jinx. But I still couldn’t bring myself to just stand there and watch as they drove away with my partner. And so I kept running, but by the time I reached the street, the van was already heading east toward downtown, and I quickly lost sight of it.
I stood on the sidewalk and tried to catch my breath, mind racing. Even though Big-Ears had taken my trancer and wisper, I still had a regular phone on me. But who could I call for help? I couldn’t travel to Nod until after sunset, and then I’d need an Incubus’ help to locate a Door.
I was so deep in thought that at first I didn’t notice the brown-haired man and his black-and-tan dachshund approaching. It was the jingling of the dog’s collar that finally got my attention. I looked at the man, and he gave me a smile.
“Rough day?” he asked, as he stopped in front of me.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“Actually, I think I do. My name’s Russell. Russell Pelfrey. And this” – he gestured toward the dachshund – “is Bloodshedder.”
The little dog looked up at me with suspicious eyes and growled.
“Russell?” I said. “
My
Russell?”
“That’s right.” His smile widened. “It’s good to see you again, Audra.”
I returned his smile, and then I punched him on the jaw as hard as I could. My hand was already sore from hitting Jinx, but I didn’t care. The pain was totally worth it.
The dachshund started barking at me, the sound shrill and piercing, and I was tempted to kick the damn thing to shut it up. Don’t look at me like that; I knew it was an Incubus and not a real dog. But Russell waved a hand to call it off.
“It’s OK, girl. Stand down.”
The dog gave him a look that said she wasn’t happy about it, but she stopped barking. She continued glaring at me, though, and growling softly. I had the feeling that come nightfall, she was going to want some payback for what I’d done to her master.
I glared back at her.
Bring it, bitch,
I thought.
So there I was, standing on the sidewalk with an old childhood… I don’t know if
friend
is the right word.
Fellow survivor,
maybe. If I’d had my trancer, I’d have rendered him unconscious in a heartbeat. But I didn’t. Besides, it was so strange encountering him like this, as if we were two old acquaintances who’d happened to bump into each other during a walk, and I wasn’t sure what to do. And it didn’t help anything that he was so good-looking. It was more than a little distracting. Yeah, I know. So I can be shallow at times. Sue me.
When in doubt, I decided, go on the offensive.
“What the hell are you doing here? Are you connected with those assholes who kidnapped my partner? Tell me where they’re taking him and I’ll see what I can do to get you a reduced sentence after I hand you over to the Nightclad Council.”
I guess I wasn’t as intimidating as I’d hoped. Instead of breaking down and telling me what I wanted to know, he just kept looking at me and smiling.
“What?” I demanded.
“You’ve come a long way from the little girl who barely said a word in session.”
Part of me was pleased that he remembered that detail, but another part wanted to punch him again. I might’ve, too, but my hand still throbbed, and I didn’t want to risk breaking it. I figured I’d be needing it to smack some people around in the near future.
“We need to talk,” Russell said. “But we can’t do it here.” He nodded toward Perchance to Dream. “They’re watching.”
I frowned. “Who?”
He ignored my question. “The plan is for me to convince you I’m really one of the good guys. The first step is to make contact – which I’ve done.” He rubbed his jaw and smiled ruefully. “Or maybe you made first contact. Then I’m supposed to get you to go with me someplace where we can sit and talk. If you don’t come with me, they’ll send someone after you immediately. If you come with me, it’ll buy you some breathing room to plan your next move.”
Even if I’d been at my mentally sharpest – which at that moment I definitely wasn’t – I’d have had trouble following what Russell said.
“So you’re trying to tell me that you’re working with this mysterious
They
, and that
They
want you to pretend to help me for whatever reason, but in reality, you really
do
intend to help me, and you don’t want
Them
knowing. Is that it?”
He shrugged. “More or less.”
I thought for a moment. “OK.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Really? I mean, I wouldn’t blame you for not believing me. It’s a pretty weird story.”
I sighed. “It’s been that kind of day, you know?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I guess it has. I’m parked a couple blocks over.”
“Lead the way.”
He turned and started walking. The dachshund – I couldn’t bring myself to think of the stubby-legged thing as
Bloodshedder
– gave me a last hate-filled look before turning and trotting after Russell. It was official. That dog and I hated each other.
I followed and tried not to worry about Jinx. He was an Incubus and a trained officer. He could take care of himself just fine.
Just fine.
“What’s wrong?” Russell asked.
“Nothing. I just never imagined that a dangerous mercenary like you would be such a big fan of grilled cheese.”
We were seated in a restaurant called Cheddar’s. Actually,
restaurant
is a bit generous.
Greasy spoon
is a better description.
Spoon covered in thick mounds of fattening goo
is even more accurate. Bloodshedder lay curled up on the floor at Russell’s feet, eyes closed. She looked like she was asleep, but I doubted it. More likely she was paying close attention to every word we said. After all, she was an Incubus. She only looked like a dog.
Cheddar’s didn’t serve anything even remotely healthy, so I ordered a grilled three-cheese sandwich, fries, and a soda. Russell ordered the quadruple-decker with eight different kinds of cheese. I was concerned he would have a coronary halfway through the meal.
“What’s wrong with grilled cheese?” he asked, before taking a large, gooey bite of his sandwich.
Either he didn’t eat like this all the time, he worked out a hell of a lot, or Russell had an extremely high metabolism, because otherwise there was no way he could eat like this regularly and stay in as good a shape as he was.
“Nothing, I guess.” I took a bite of my sandwich and was surprised by how good it tasted. Of course, the fact that I hadn’t eaten all day might’ve had something to do with it.
We both ate in silence for a few minutes. I should’ve been struck by the absurdity of it all. Here I was, eating grilled cheese with a man I’d been trying to track down – for helping a master assassin escape my custody. But instead it felt natural, as if we really were two old friends, who’d gotten together after having been apart for too long.
Russell slowed down when his sandwich was three-quarters finished.
“Sorry,” he said. He took a long drink of his soda. “Sometimes it’s hard to come by regular meals in this line of work. I can’t remember the last time I ate.”
Bloodshedder let out a soft woof, and Russell took the remainder of his sandwich and gave it to her. She swallowed it in two bites, licked her mouth, and then closed her eyes and settled back down.
When we’d first come in, the woman at the cash register said we couldn’t bring a dog in. But Bloodshedder turned on the charm, wagging her rat-tail and giving the woman an
I’m a cute doggie and I love everybody
look. The woman fell for it and let her stay. Sucker. Despite my dislike for the little beast, I had to admire her skills at emotional manipulation.
“Is all that cheese good for her?” I asked.
“If she was a real dog, no. But she’s an Incubus. In her Night Aspect, she can eat just about anything. Or anyone.”