Foreboding Skies (The Skybreaker Saga Book 1) (9 page)

              The night was far colder than it should have been, even soaked as I was. Whatever warmth I had left was being leeched from me. My injuries alone were not enough to threaten my life, but my body didn’t get the memo. Feeling in my extremities started to fade and I realized the devious undead used a favorite underhanded move and poisoned me. The nature of my spirit animal and my additional protection from being a Shaman meant I should have been able to shrug off even the severe venom or poisons. Whatever I had been hit with packed a tremendous punch.

              I stumbled my way out of the park and onto the empty street. The helicopter would soon be zipping overhead looking for the source of the disturbance and close behind would be scores of heavily armed law enforcement officials I really had no idea where I was now. Whatever poison was circulating through my veins was slowly numbing my mind and body. I stopped in a back alley and tried to take stock of myself. Sirens disturbed the silence of the night as a fleet of vehicles converged near my location. I quickly came to the conclusion that most of my shelves were empty. The strain of the last two days…, shit had it really only been two days? No, it had been about twenty four hours. I had taken care of Downs, done a little rekindling, and  attended a few meetings. The sun had set but it was still technically Wednesday. This had all started Tuesday evening. Not bad for a day’s work.

              I heard the dogs barking before I smelled them. And goodness there were a lot of them. Moving in what was probably a predetermined search pattern designed to hunt someone in my situation. I really did not like the level of efficiency modern police forces had achieved.  Where to flee? I had no idea. I wasn’t even fully recovered from last night’s antics and now this. I came to the end of the alley and looked both ways, a good idea for anyone, not just people dodging assassins. And stay in school kids.

I didn’t want to run into the police either. My appearance alone would merit a trip to the station. My options were limited. I could resist and hurt some people and possibly get shot. Or I go to the station and wait for whoever sent the reaver to finish me. A lot of people would die in that scenario.

              I stopped on the other side of the corner and spoke, “Balindor. What do you want?” I was answered by a surprised shuffle and grunts. “I’m serious, I have no time to waste on… well anything really.” I leaned against the mouth of the alley. At least I hoped it was the mouth and not the ass. The normally stout bastard probably still looked nervous. “Balindor if you are here to apologize for your behavior yesterday I will be happy to accept and then move on.” He snorted and finally stepped past the corner so we could see each other. We both took a few silent moments to grasp and appreciate the appearance of the other. I knew I looked like some extra from a horror movie. Most of me was covered in a sickening mix of mud and blood.

              Despite my appearance Balindor was the real shocker. I had never seen the cantankerous bastard wear anything that could even come close to business casual, let alone formal. And yet, there he was, dressed in a tuxedo like a chubby little penguin. The seriousness of my situation was briefly overshadowed by the ridiculousness of a dwarf in a tuxedo. My pain racked body allowed me to enjoy a few chuckles before sputtering into a blood speckled coughing fit.

              “Before you say anything, yes I am wearing a tuxedo. The friend I mentioned is having a gathering tonight. I was told to invite you, but I can see that you aren’t in any shape to go to a party. You should go to a hospital.”  He commented as if recommending an umbrella on a cloudy day.

              Ha. A hospital. Labyrinths of bullshit bureaucracy and overpriced drugs with doctors who feel the need to report every little shrapnel injury that comes through the door. There were supernatural alternatives. Mostly places to hang out until you were fully healed. My healing ability nearly guaranteed that as long as a wound wasn’t immediately fatal I would survive. A slick black limousine came around the corner and Balindor straightened up. I guess I would be meeting his friend. I wouldn’t of course actually meet with her. Making a deal with the Fae in my current condition would be akin to a drug addict with overdue bills going to a cash in advance predatory lending service. In the short term I could handle my troubles, but it was the long term implications that killed you.

              The woman who stepped out was attractive, supernaturally attractive. She was also Fae. Which completely negated all of her attractiveness. I had no idea how Balindor had gotten involved with the Fae to begin with and I did not care to know. It was his problem and nothing could make me add his problems to mine. I was still in danger…but the Fae glamour would also buy me some time. From my assailants and the police, who would now be trigger happy and jumpy as all hell. It still wasn’t worth it.

              Which was why I  turned around and was already walking back to the other end of the alley. Nothing good ever comes from dealing with the Fae. Balindor swore something, apologized to someone and hustled after me. “Look, Dragomir, I know you have trust issues with pretty much everyone. But my friend is emphatic about brining you in.”

              “For the sake of all that is fuck! How many times do I have to say this, no favors! For anyone, ever! And especially not for the blasted Fae. I would sooner make a pact with a demon than with them. Run back to your friend and tell her that.” I did not have time for this shit. The only reason I hadn’t sprinted out of here was because of the barrier the Fae lady had put up when she had arrived. It would do a good job of keeping people away which gave me more time to rest.  I also doubted I was capable of sprinting right now.

              “My queen knows well of your policy regarding our kind. Perhaps though you could make an exception for an exchange that will prove mutually beneficial?” Sex poured from every word. Her appearance was taken straight from a porno. The blonde bombshell wearing only enough clothing to avoid public indecency charges by a thread. A literal thread.

              The word queen made my blood run backwards in my veins. “Queen, Balindor? This favor would be for a Queen of the Fae?” Balindor paled and stepped back at my tone. The women’s sultry act wavered and two men in suits stepped in between us. As if a couple of low level Fae could stop me. I don’t think these people could grasp how depleted my stock of Fucks was.             

“All we ask is a meeting with our Queen. She can help you with your current troubles and you can help her. We have a safe house prepared for you to recuperate and you can meet with our Queen tomorrow.” It all sounded perfectly reasonable. She made it seem like the best possible action to take would be to climb into her car and help a fairy queen. While I was certainly desperate, I was not that stupid. 

              “No. No. And some more no for the road. Balindor, I will never get involved in this. I have enough to deal with as it is. I am sorry that your troubles include a debt to a fairy queen. Just not enough to doom myself.” The poor bastard seemed to sink lower to the ground than he already was. The Fae lady popped something sour into her mouth and graced me with a withering look.

Much like the stout camel that could carry not one piece of straw more, I was at my breaking point. Nothing but dead ends everywhere I looked. The Feds were after me and whomever I was fighting against held all the cards. True, the Fae queen could possibly provide a lead.  I had been planning to contact them for information, but taking a deal from a queen would not, could not be worth it. My desperation was not yet high enough for me to take out that high interest loan. Besides, I could still get information from the Fae. Not from a queen of course, but there were plenty of other ways to get information. When one of the suits moved to block me and tried to express his opinion I was not inclined to listen.

“You think you are in any condition to refuse our generosity?”

“Move.”

“A worm like you should be grateful that…” I didn’t let him finish expressing his indignation. My backhand strongly reminded him that silence was golden. He crunched nicely against the brick wall. His companion slammed a meaty hand onto my shoulder and tried to drag me off my feet. My elbow connected with his chin and he connected with the limousine in a spray of glass and metal. I was failing to be polite. I would have to apologize to Vlad. I wasn’t sure where that strength came from. I wasn’t in any condition to be tossing anyone around like that. Where only a moment before I was a shuffling mess, suddenly I felt good. All my pain and fatigue disappeared. I felt empty from the sudden absence of pain. Empty, but good.

The Fae lady was openly terrified and Balindor looked ready to faint. I would be as well in their shoes. At that moment I think I could have killed them both and not cared at all. Being cold was nothing new to me but this was a different level of cold, closer to absolute zero. A figurative axe crashed into my head, threatening to split my skull and leaving me gasping. The wall of the alley prevented me from toppling over completely.

Neither one of my remaining surprise visitors moved, they stood there waiting for whatever may come. Which I realized is what I had been doing. I had been on my back foot since the outset. It was time to be proactive. First, I needed to remove myself from this situation. “Tell your queen that I am not interested in her offer. Balindor, I hope this won’t become a permanent hindrance to any future business opportunities. Please excuse me.”

My pain returned with interest, making my journey back to the street without any limping, stumbling, or curling into a ball and crying… challenging. Neither the Fae or Balindor came after me, which was good for everyone. Now all I needed to do was make my way …where? There were too many watchers at home and quite possibly some killers as well. It could be mere coincidence that I was nearly assassinated right after being released by the Feds. Every TV show detective would tell me not to believe in coincidences. I would have to agree in this case. I had to assume all my usual spots would be under surveillance. Surely there were people I could turn to. My head threatened to burst again. I would figure something out. Or I would die.

I try to expect the unexpected, but there are times when what ends up happening is utterly unanticipated despite my preparations. Getting an offer from a Fae queen in a back alley fell outside of my expectations and I had not handled it as well as I should have. Just because I had no interest in doing business with Balindor’s queen didn’t mean I could offend her by tossing around her servants and spitting on her offer. If she wasn’t an enemy before I then might have made her one. Despite the risk of alienating a Fae queen and the doubts about my own abilities it only took a few moments to convince myself that I made the right choice

The Fae lady made the deal seem reasonable and beneficial. I help her and myself at the same time and everybody goes home happy and smiling, like a Disney story. Except most Disney stories were based on amply abhorrent and depressing stories. Many of which actually involved the Fae doing horrible things to people who thought they were getting a good deal. One of the many reasons why I was extremely weary of the deal the fairy queen offered. Do not trust the Fae, just don’t do it. They make Machiavelli look like a slow witted girl scout. Hell, for all I knew the queen who wanted to meet with me hired the assassins to make me desperate enough to take her deal. Walking away was the best decision I could have made.

Unfortunately, making the smart decision didn’t mean you won out in the end. My strong refusal failed to materialize any benefit in the short term and could prove fatal in the long term. The Wolves and Wiccans failed to give me anything substantial to go on. It looked like the Fae indented to be their usual obstructive selves. And the Enclave representative would most likely be some low ranking putts who would be of no help. Vladimir having ties to them or not I was now doubtful of their immediate usefulness. How quickly could they investigate all of their members? At least people were in my corner, if only a few of them.

Aside from Vlad and Alewyn there weren’t too many people I could turn to in this hour of need. That wasn’t true. I could ask my own people for help, maybe even give my old mentor a call. Damn, the only good thing about the pain in my head was that it distracted me from the pain of breathing. It wouldn’t be pretty. Shamans are a solitary lot by nature and pulling other Shamans off their jobs to help with yours was frowned upon. Besides, a full-fledged Shaman was expected to deal with whatever came their way. I would be in plenty of trouble as things stood once the Elders got around to reviewing recent events. If they ever did I could expect one of their handpicked helpers to drop by.

Sorrow, fear, rage. I could feel them all bubbling under the surface, but I kept a lid on it. A few spirits fluttered around before sailing off to find more a more bountiful harvest. I spent years learning to control my emotions. It was a must of the job. I couldn’t let spirits affect me. It was hard though, I was exhausted and the blood loss was taking its toll. I had to change something. At that moment the game was in my enemy’s hands. They were setting the rules and they were crushing me.

I didn’t know what I could do that would shift the situation in my favor. I felt alone. I was used to being alone, but I hadn’t felt alone in over a century. Not since my days in that rat-hole of a monastery.  I was isolated and outmatched by an enemy more ferocious and cruel than the nuns that raised me and I didn’t have a clue how to deal with them.

“Freeze!” My comatose shuffle came to a halt as I contemplated the people blocking my path. I lost it and hysterical laughter poured out of me. I really was happy to see them. Of all the people who could have been pointing guns at me I was glad it was Hemmingway and Jones… err whatever her name was. I could work with this.

“Why hello officers! Quite a lovely evening here. Is it the lovely odor of back alley piss, or the lovely police lights, or some other third thing that makes nights in Detroit magical?” I needed to stop saying lovely. Speechless and shocked were good words to describe their reactions. Hemmingway, ever the unflappable one, took charge as soon as he recollected his wits. Jones seemed to be taking a bit longer to process .

“Smith!? What the hell are you doing here? And why does it look like someone put you through a meat grinder?” Blunt. I needed more of that. Drowning in a sea of duplicity makes you appreciate the one person who is as he appears. I may not have been desperate enough to take the deal from the Fae but I may have been desperate enough to trust the last good man I knew. I felt compelled to trust the bear of a man.

“I would probably be killed for answering that question honestly. Of course I am going to be killed anyway so what the hell. How you would you two mere mortals like to get in on an improbable adventure that will most likely lead you to a grisly early death? Also, how come I didn’t smell or hear either of you? I usually do that.”

“What the hell are you talking about Smith? Jones, help me get him to the car we need to get him to a hospital before he bleeds out.” Hospitals are a no-no for the supernatural. Too many questions about not dying from wounds that should have been lethal.

“Wrong! I will not bleed out. The poison may do the job but if it hasn’t killed me yet it probably won’t. Going to the car is a good idea though. But I have a better destination than a hospital.”

“Like a jail cell! Dammit Joseph. We have to do our jobs. He’s wanted for murder and possible connections to a terrorist organization. If you even think about helping him Goodwin will take you down hard. It won’t matter that you’re a cop!”

“I trust Goodwin as far as you could throw him. And he needs a hospital. He’s clearly delirious from blood loss. This man has been assaulted.” He inspected my wounds closer with his flashlight. The worst of them already closed up and were fast fading. “These wounds.” Then the pause that signals someone has been struck by a significant thought. “Smith… I don’t think you are human. Looking at your wounds now… none of them are bleeding and this blood has to be less than an hour old. What in god’s name did this to you?”

A defining moment for me, hell, it was a defining moment for the entire Community. I could deny everything then apply a minimum of force to my would be captors and walk away. Or, or I could tell Hemmingway the truth. I wasn’t sure about Gousie. She was a wild card still. She didn’t work for my enemies, at least not the ones actively trying to kill me, but she did work for someone.

“Two extremely dangerous undead abominations attacked me. I believe Agent Goodwin, in addition to being a bastard himself, is working for nefarious people who are trying to kill me and cause all sorts of diabolical shit. I need help and I need it now. Hemmingway, nay, Joseph. Sweet and ponderous Joseph, if you take me to where I need to go instead of a cell I will cut you in on the secrets you have been trying in vain to get.”

His breath caught on my words. Did he believe me? Did I believe me? What exactly was I trying to do here? Get the only good man I knew killed by telling him things he was forbidden to know? I knew what I was doing. I was taking a huge risk, the kind of risk that gets you remembered. Remembered as a brilliant visionary or as the embodiment of lunacy. Which was I?

I felt it wasn’t the first time fate forced me to make such a decision. Hell if I knew where and when, but I knew I had. Hemmy was astonished and jubilant all at once. Why shouldn’t he be? He had been chasing after me for a while now. It must have been immeasurably frustrating for him, to be looking for anything to help him make sense of the shadow cast by an unseen beast. He knew it was there, he saw the signs left by the beast, but he couldn’t see it until now.

“What the hell are you talking about? Dammit! I don’t know what you’re doing but it ends now!” Furious was an excellent word to describe Gousie in that moment. Some women look better when possessed by great passion. Those same women look even sexier with a gun in hand. In another time and place the sight of a hot faced Lucy Gousie holding a Dirty Harry-esk hand cannon would be arousing. It still was oddly enough, but the presence of Hemmy and the gun being pointed at me squashed most of the mood. More than anything I felt baffled. She was acting like she wasn’t five feet away and hadn’t heard every word I said. I didn’t think I said anything that warranted a shot in the face, but I am atrocious when it comes to not pissing people off thing. “Jones! What are you doing? Put your gun away.” She looked even more baffled than before. Baffled and angry.

I didn’t understand what was happening but if I didn’t ease this situation someone was going to get shot. “Lucy, err Ms. Gousie. Please do not shoot me. Just listen to what I have to say and I promise you that there is a chance you won’t regret it.” Smooth as I could be.

Just like that she went from furious to frightened, at least she heard me. And I slipped up by calling her by her real name, the one I wasn’t supposed to know. My glance at Hemmy told me he was perplexed by what was happening. He hadn’t known her real name.

“How do you know that? Who told you?” Her voice rose to a fevered pitch. She was getting hysterical now. For all she knew I was a demon who was going to use her name to steal her soul, which can happen. There wasn’t much I could do with someone’s name, other than send them rude letters. She did not seem reassured when I told her. Of course, that is what a soul stealing demon would say.

“I heard your name when you were talking to Goodwin at the miniature golf course. I think it’s a cute name. Personally I think it fits you well.” Smoother still. Now Gousie was red faced for an entirely different reason. Bless Hemmingway for having more sense around an agitated woman with a gun than me.

His hands were up and he was gradually moving toward Gousie saying all the things cops are trained to say to an unstable person with a gun. Joseph Hemmingway could be damn intimidating when he needs to be, but he could also be as warm and benign as a teddy bear. Gousie finally stopped pointing her gun at me. She didn’t put it away but I wasn’t looking down the barrel of a hand cannon. How did the recoil not snap her bones?

The gun was replaced by her eyes boring through my soul windows and grabbing my brain by the stem and holding it firm. She certainly was one hell of a woman. “If you are trying to screw us over I swear by…I swear I will put a bullet through your eyes and stomp out your teeth.” With that she turned around and started back to the car, leaving us slow witted men to catch up.

The car in question was Hemmy’s courageous 1960 Cadillac Fleetwood. How the thing was still running was what most scientists would label a ‘miracle’. Gousie already had the old girl purring nicely by the time we caught up. Hemmy went to help me into the backseat when Gousie speared us with another pointed look. “He is riding up front. I don’t want him behind me. And I am driving.”

Hemmingway furrowed his brows. “It’s my car.” Gousie shrugged and turned up the volume on the police radio. A subtle reminder we couldn’t afford to argue with her. I grabbed shotgun and Hemmingway was consigned to the back seat of his own car.

Once we were moving out of the immediate search area she turned the radio off. “Start talking whoever or whatever you are.” One hell of a woman.