Spellbound (33 page)

Crow’s footsteps could be heard coming around the pigeon coop. His presence was scaring the hell out of the birds. “I thought about killing you. You have no idea how tempting it is to just toss you off this building and say that you got scared and jumped.”

Francis circled, keeping the little structure between them. He got glimpses of Crow’s black coat through the wire. “Who said I’m scared?”

“Guilt then. Maybe a rich kid got in over his head in an Active plot and was afraid of doing hard time. I don’t know. Whatever plays better in the press. You’re scared though, Francis. I can smell your fear. Your sweet little girlfriend was braver than you are. Pert little thing, that. When this is over, maybe I’ll keep her for myself. Show her what a real man can do.”

“You’re no man.” Francis took two steps back from the coop, raised his gun and fired repeatedly. The flashes obscured his vision, but as Crow moved to the side, Francis tracked him and kept on shooting. He knew that he’d hit Crow several times. Pistol empty, Francis took another magazine from the pouch on the off side of his shoulder holster. Feathers were floating in the air. He got the mag into the well just as two massive hands landed on his shoulders.

“True,” Crow hissed. Francis looked up into four glowing red eyes. “I’m no man. I’m better than that. You should get to know the
real
me.” The great black head dipped hard, and a curled ram’s horn, hard as rock, slammed into Francis’ face.

Head swimming, Francis found himself on his back, staring at grey clouds stained pink by the city lights. Blood was running into his eyes. The demon stood over him, smoke leaking from several bullet holes. He seemed to ripple, like a pebble tossed in a puddle. Francis tried to blink away the blood, and when he opened his eyes, Crow appeared human again.

Crow’s voice seemed to come from very far away as other feet crunched on the gravel around him. “Put this fink in the hole with the other. We’re not done with him yet.” A black leather shoe rose over his head, descended fast, and everything went black.

Chapter 13

You do not comprehend what we are facing. I have lived in both worlds, West and East. The Imperium is more than just another country and the Chairman is more than some mere politician to be bargained with. To illustrate, one of our most popular legends tells of forty-seven warriors whose master was disgraced by an enemy lord, and thus had to take his own life. Though revenge was forbidden by decree, they swore a secret oath. These ronin spent years plotting. They debased themselves, laying drunken in the street, beaten and spit upon by peasants, all so that their foe would underestimate them. But as soon as he let down his guard, they struck the castle, slaughtered his retainers, and sawed the lord’s head off with the dagger their master had used to gut himself. Having made their point, every single one of them committed ritual suicide together. That is not the attitude of men you take lightly.

—Toyotomi Makoto,

knight of the Grimnoir,

testimony to the elders’ council,
1908

Unknown Location

IT BEGAN IN THE RAIN,
holding George’s dead head in her hands. A gigantic black bird spread its wings and blocked the rain. It spoke with Crow’s voice. “You can’t stop me, Faye. Don’t even try.”

The demon was killing her friends, picking them off one by one. She’d Travel to their side, only to arrive a second too late. She’d appear, but they were already gone. She’d just find bits and pieces. Jane’s favorite white dress, soaked red. Dan’s broken glasses. Heinrich’s coat was smoldering in a charred pit. Mr. Browning’s workbench was empty, tools scattered. Lance’s cowboy hat was ripped in half and there were bits of meat and hair stuck to it. Whisper’s fancy umbrella was rolling in the wind down an empty street. She kept on Traveling, faster and faster, trying to catch up to the demon.

She was with Delilah again, like she’d been at the very end, missing half of her face. “Hurry, Faye. He’s killing everyone!”

“I can’t. He’s too fast.”

The pretty side of Delilah’s face laughed at her. “Or you’re too slow. What’s it going to be, kid?”

“Why can’t I get stronger again?”

“You must not want it bad enough.”

Mr. Sullivan was the strongest. Surely, he could beat the demon. But by the time she got there he was holding his guts in his lap and trying to stuff them back inside. “Damn it, girl. I was counting on you. Look what you’ve done. You killed me again.”

Grandpa. She found him at the haystacks, just like before. Dying from Madi’s bullet, he whispered something that she couldn’t hear, but she knew that it was something about how she hadn’t been there to save him. Bitter sadness ripped her heart in two.

One last Travel put her onto the roof of a tall building. Francis was dangling from the edge. He called out for her to help, but she moved like molasses. As Francis’ fingers slipped from the edge, a massive black shape climbed over the side of the skyscraper. It towered over her. The demon was a hundred feet tall, made of smoke and death, and it tore Francis from the ledge and flung him down before it came for her.

Faye woke up screaming.

She was in a car. It was dark out.

“Calm down. It was just a nightmare.” Whisper was driving fast, squinting against the oncoming headlights. “Everything is fine.”

It took Faye a moment to remember where she was and how she’d gotten there.
No. Things are not fine at all.
She cracked her neck. Her head had been hanging at a weird angle while she’d been sleeping. Her lungs and eyes hurt, and she was glad that it was too dark to see where the Summoned’s blood had burned her. It throbbed with a dull ache.

There was an awful cough from the backseat. Faye looked over to see Ian stretched out. “Is he going to be all right?”

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I think he has some injuries we can’t see. He’s been getting worse. If I take him to a hospital, we will doubtlessly be arrested. I have good news, though.”

“Huh?” Faye was still dizzy and it was hard to think. Something to do with the demon oil she’d breathed. It was messing with her head.

“Your friend the Healer is on the way. We’re going to meet her in Knoxville.”

Jane? She can fix anything.
“Is that far?”

“You have been asleep for a very long time. We’ll be there soon. Don’t worry.”

Faye nodded and rested her head back against the window. She’d been slipping in and out. The last thing she could remember it had been daytime and Whisper had said they’d been in Arkansas. “Are you okay?”

“Tired . . . I’ll be fine.”

Faye looked over again. Whisper was still wearing her torn nightgown. Of course, all of their luggage had burned in the fire. She caught Faye looking and smiled. “Yes. I look quite the mess. I’ve gotten some odd looks when we’ve stopped for gas, but luckily the attendants have all been boys. I flirt with them for a minute, say a few nice things, make an excuse about coming from a wild bonfire party, and that’s either so scandalous or so exciting that they don’t even notice you two.”

“What are you going to do if it’s a girl that fills up our gas?”

Whisper winked. “That is not an issue. I can flirt with girls too if necessary.”

“Huh?” Faye didn’t get it. French people were weird.

“Never mind that. Do you feel well enough to talk? I need to talk or I won’t be able to stay awake.”

Faye just grunted. She felt like she’d been run over by an angry Holstein. She was running a fever and her brain was working slower than normal, which probably put her around regular person speed. She didn’t know how they could stand being so
sluggish.

“How does your magic feel?”

What an odd question.
“Why?”

“Well . . . You’re a fugitive. If we come across a police roadblock I need to know what our options are.”

That made sense. Faye checked her Power. It was there, and feeling surprisingly strong. It must have recharged better than her body.
Wait a second
. . . Faye checked her head map. It stretched much further than anticipated. Twice as far as it had when she’d been bouncing around fighting the demon. “It’s . . . it’s better. More like before.”

Whisper looked temporarily distressed, but then tried to laugh it off. “Like when you Traveled the
Tempest
, because if you could have just taken us directly to Knoxville and saved me this horrendous trip I would have appreciated knowing that ten hours ago.”

“No.” Faye stopped to cough. “Not that much. But it’s better than yesterday by a bunch.” It was more like how she’d been before Madi had blown up Francis’ house with the Peace Ray. It was like she’d first started growing stronger when Grandpa had gotten shot, and it had just kept growing and growing all the way until she’d gone toe to toe against the Chairman. Then she’d used it all up doing something that should have been impossible.

“You are stronger, but do you
feel
different?”

“Whisper, you sound scared. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing . . . I . . . I am just concerned for you is all.”

“I’m just tired.” She’d been weaker after the
Tokugawa
fight, and though she’d gotten better again with practice, she hadn’t come close to the energy she’d been able to muster before.
Why now?
That was really strange. Would the stronger connection to the Power stick around again, or would she lose it like last time?

If she hadn’t been so darn tired and out of it, she probably would’ve pondered on that particular mystery for a while. Instead she drifted off and was snoring in a few minutes.

She didn’t hear Whisper mutter to herself, “I wish that I had been wrong.”

Bell Farm, Virginia

THEY MADE IT HOME LATE.
Home, being a dilapidated farmhouse just itching to fall down, was a relative term, but it was a place to lay his weary head. Sullivan was tired. Playing mental games against somebody like J. Edgar Hoover was more tiring than breaking rocks. Plus, his body still ached from the fight with the Imperium Brute. Magical Mending could fix the wound, but the pain managed to stick around.

They parked the truck in the barn and walked to the house. Sullivan felt it first. The wartime instincts never really went away. The woods were too quiet. “We’re being watched,” he whispered. Dan started to turn his head. “Play it cool.” The other knight pretended to relax, but he kept one hand close to his piece.

Sullivan exercised his Power to feel the world around him. The metal bits were so much denser than their surroundings that they stuck out like beacons. Fifteen yards. One person in the bushes. Armed.

The noise of a revolver being cocked was very distinctive. After that came a woman’s voice. “Don’t move.”

He didn’t need to move to bend the hell out of gravity, so Sullivan prepared to Spike their new guest halfway across Virginia.

“Easy, Sullivan. I just want to talk.”

“Hammer . . .”

Dan had one hand on his pistol. “Who?”

“The lady who served me up to the OCI on a plate.”

She came walking out of the shadows, gun trained on them. “I didn’t know it was a setup. I was just supposed to get you to answer the phone. I didn’t know they meant to kill you.”

“I’m more inclined to believe folks who aren’t pointing heaters at me.”

“I’m just being careful. You’ve got a reputation for tossing people around.”

Sullivan scanned the trees. The range that he could check with his Power was limited. She could have an army out there. “You alone?”

“Just me and Mr. Colt here.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Only if I was here to fight, which I’m not. I’ll put this down, but give me your word that you won’t use magic on me first or start anything unless it is self-defense.”

“Are you serious?”

“Promise.”

That was an odd request. Sullivan looked at Dan, who just shrugged. “Okay. Fine. I promise I won’t attack you unless you attack me.”

“No tricks. Just hear me out. Then we part ways.”

“Agreed.”

“You’re telling the truth.” Hammer lowered the revolver. “You have no idea how
refreshing
that is.”

“This your fake redhead, Jake?” Dan asked, the subtle edge of magic in his words. “Because I’ve got to say, she might’ve bragged to you about how good she was at finding folks, but she sure didn’t exaggerate her talents. You certainly didn’t exaggerate about her being pretty either. She’s just as lovely in person. Very nice to meet you.”

“Save the flattery for a chump, Mouth. Your Power won’t work on me.”

Dan smiled. “Can’t blame a man for trying.”

“You here to arrest me?” Sullivan asked. “Because I’ve really got more important things to worry about right now.”

“Originally, I was. Now, I’m probably going to regret this. Hell, never mind, I
know
I’m going to regret this.” Hammer paused. “I’m here to help you.”

This woman was trouble. Sullivan shook his head. “No thanks. Got all the help I need.”

“You know a man by the name of Heinrich Koenig?”

“What about him?” Dan asked, positively dripping suspicion over the use of his dead friend’s name.

“He’s being held captive by the OCI, until they get tired of him. Then they’ll execute him even though they know he’s innocent, which is frankly an idea I find bothersome.”

“Impossible! Heinrich . . .” Dan looked to Sullivan. “Francis never got to see his body.” Then he grinned as he latched onto some hope. “I knew that stubborn son of a gun wouldn’t die that easy!” Dan went to unlock the door.

“So, you boys ready to talk yet? You know you want to.”

It might be an elaborate trick, but he was always a sucker for a mystery, and Hammer knew that about him. Sullivan gestured to the door of the farmhouse. “Come in.”