The Peregrine Omnibus, Volume Two (33 page)

Sally crossed her legs, reaching up with one hand to push back the skull cap she wore. She’d already discarded her mask and looked a bit ruffled, but still beautiful. Vincent studied the smooth skin of her face as she spoke. “I thought you needed help with the Ten Fingers. I didn’t know you would want me to stay here indefinitely. I have responsibilities in Bordia.”

“I know you do, and I wouldn’t ask you to abandon any of that. You’re the heir to a heroic legacy that stretches back well over a hundred years.” Max studied each of them, holding their gaze in his own before moving on to the next. “I think all of you would agree that the world is a dangerous place and getting even more so… and I’m not a young man. I’m pushing fifty years old, and I’m the father of two small children. I can’t keep pushing myself as hard as I have been. I need a group of trusted allies who can take some of the burden off my shoulders. I need people who can become my Claws, striking at the enemy.”

Vincent nodded sagely. He trusted Max more than anyone else alive… Max had not flinched from the horrific visage that Vincent possessed. He had treated him like a man, giving him a home and a life to call his own. For that and more, he was willing to follow Max to the gates of hell itself. “You know that I will do as you ask,” he said, his words carrying great weight in the room. Despite his hulking form, he was possessed of keen intelligence and had the soul of a poet. “But aren’t you a part of several such groups? Why would you need another?”

Max shook his head. “You’re thinking of the Nova Alliance and the partnership I’ve had with Ascott Keane and the Black Bat. With the former, I was a part of an adventurer’s club, but the Alliance has disbanded, following the death of my old friend, Leopold Grace. He was the heart and soul of that group and without him, no one has been able to keep it going. And as for Keane and the Bat… we’re associates. We trade information and help out when needed, but I’m looking for a dedicated group who want to make the world safe from lunatics like the Warlike Manchu. I’m willing to pay all of you very handsomely, and I’d be willing to put you up in your place here in Atlanta. You wouldn’t have to live under my roof or have your meetings in the Peregrine’s Nest, not unless you wanted to.”

“We’d be answering to you?” Catalyst asked.

“Yes… though I certainly wouldn’t want you to think I’d be lording over all of you. You’d be free to handle your own investigations, in the manner you see fit.”

Max caught something in Rachel’s expression and he turned her way. “Do you want to ask something?”

Rachel nodded, feeling a bit proud of herself for not having probed into Max’s mind. It was hard for her to avoid the temptation to use her telepathy for a bit of snooping but she’d made a very earnest effort to curb those desires. “Are you planning to retire or something?”

“I’m not retiring,” Max said. “But I see things getting worse in a lot of ways before they get better.” The Peregrine seemed to hesitate, as if weighing his next words very carefully. “Back in 1938, I had a fight with a human avatar of an entity called Nyarlathotep. I killed that monster’s host and used his heart to make this ring.” He held up a red signet ring, in which the image of a bird in flight was etched. Everyone in the room knew that this ring burned when it came into contact with the flesh of evil men, burning the image of the peregrine into their skin forever. “This wasn’t the only gift he gave to me, though. Before he died, Nyarlathotep projected images into my mind. Most of them have faded over time, but a few have stuck with me. He showed me some of my future, hoping that it would break me down and make me weak. He showed me a future point, when I would have outlived my wife and my children. I saw horrible things in our future… weapons that make the ones we have now look like sticks and stones. I saw grisly crimes that would shock even the most jaded of people today. When we win this war with the Axis—and I think we will, it’s only a matter of time—the real battle will begin on the home front. I can’t protect this city alone and McKenzie, God help him, isn’t going to be enough. I need help.”

Sally suppressed a sigh. She loved Max like a brother but nothing he was saying was answering her chief concern. “I can’t stay here, Max. If you need help for a few weeks or even a few months, that’s one thing… but I’m not going to move back to the States. Besides.” Sally shifted uneasily. “I’m not sure I like everyone here enough to want to be with them full-time.”

“Was that supposed to be aimed that me?” Rachel asked, narrowing her eyes. She brushed off Nathaniel’s attempt at reaching out to her. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you don’t have to be a telepath to figure out you’re holding something against me.”

Sally flushed, not wanting to admit the real reason she disliked Rachel. “I just meant that being part of an ongoing group means a level of commitment that I’m not ready to give right now, that’s all.”

“I’m not asking for any of you to be best friends,” Max said. “But I think you’re all professionals and you all have the same ultimate goal: you want to use your unique skills to make the world a better place. Sally, you’re free to return home whenever you need to… but I’m willing to give you enough money and enough support to bring the Revenant operation into the twentieth century. Besides, what you’ll be doing here is going to help those people back in Africa. Atlanta is sitting on the dividing line between our world and the ones beyond. That’s why so much weirdness takes place here. We need to safeguard this city before whatever threatens it takes on the entire world.”

“I’m in,” Nathaniel said, surprising his wife with the firmness of his conviction. “Ever since I gained these powers, I’ve been at a loss as to what to do with them. This gives me a purpose, and a bloody good one at that. I shouldn’t speak for Rachel, but I really feel like this is something we should do. Lately, I’ve had dreams… visions. I’ve seen something dark and threatening looming on the horizon. I saw myself and Rachel but there were others with us, ready to fight against whatever the threat was. I think it was this group: The Claws of the Peregrine, or whatever you want to call it.”

Max smiled, genuinely pleased at the turn this was taking. “We can be good for each other, all of us. I’m sure of that.” He specifically addressed the next part to the women of the group. “No one has to like each other all the time. But I have faith that all of you are mature enough to get past whatever problems you have with one another. Are you all in?”

Catalyst glanced at his wife, who nodded. “If Nathaniel thinks we should do this… then I’ll take a chance on it.”

Vincent smiled beneath his shaggy black hair, most of which he kept swept forward into his face so it hid his features. “I look forward to the opportunities this could bring.”

All eyes turned towards Sally, who finally laughed softly. “Okay, okay. I get it. I’m the curmudgeon of the group. I’m in, I’m in.”

Max stood up. “Good. Everyone should get some rest… tomorrow I’ll show you your new headquarters and then you can begin your new lives in earnest.”

CHAPTER III

Signs and Symbols

Richard Nova carefully inserted the pin through the insect’s back, affixing it to the small piece of wood upon which it would be mounted. Satisfied with his work, Nova set the insect—a unique form of beetle known as the Capricorn—in a glass-covered box containing other immaculately preserved creatures.

Nova’s home was filled with bits of oddity, making it a modern day cabinet of curiosities. Nova was the proud owner of a set of scrolls dating back to the time of Cleopatra, a section of giant squid that had washed up on the shores of Massachusetts, and a life-size iron maiden device.

But none of those treasures were as odd as Nova himself. He stood over six feet tall, with a thin frame that belied the great strength he possessed. His skin was so white that he was often mistaken for an albino. His eyes were extremely sensitive to light, leading him to wear dark sunglasses even at night. His hair was cropped short and was a dark black in color, coming to a widow’s peak in the front. He wore finely tailored suits, always black, and had the air about of him of a good-natured undertaker. For these reasons and more, he was sometimes dubbed “The White Ghost.”

Nova’s family was full of eccentrics and outright madmen, with his father becoming obsessed with exploration and adventure. The Nova Alliance, a famed club for men who loved danger, had been founded by Henry Nova several decades ago and now had branches in three cities, though most were teetering on the brink of disbandment. Richard himself was a member in name only, preferring to keep his exploits known to only a few… but there was no doubting that he, like his father, was drawn to the sorts of things that might have given other men reason to tremble.

Mr. Nova, as most men and women addressed him, was a troubleshooter by trade. His phone number was known only to certain people, who tended to come into contact with those in great danger. They would, in turn, pass the information along to Mr. Nova, who would sometimes set aside his own affairs to make sure that innocent people were safe. In recent years, he had become a staunch ally of the Peregrine, so impressing Max Davies with his obscure knowledge and useful skills that he had been one of those first considered for a position amongst the Peregrine’s Claws. Nova had made it quite clear, however, that he was not looking for more commitments in his already busy life.

Some sixth sense made Nova pause, his body going rigid. He heard nothing other than the soft strains of Mozart drifting from the phonograph and the steady tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hall… but Nova was positive that something in the house had changed. He was no longer alone.

Moving with purpose but without panic, Nova moved to a painting of a moonlit river that hung on the wall. He lifted it off the nail on which it hung and set it on the floor, revealing a small safe recessed into the wall. A few twists of the dial opened the safe, revealing several rolled scrolls, maps, and papers. Lying in front of those things was a handgun and Nova grabbed this, checked to make sure it was loaded, and then crept towards the door. He quietly turned the knob and opened the door, peering outwards.

At first he saw nothing, but before he could convince himself that this was all his imagination, a dark-clad figure crossed Nova’s line of vision. Nova only caught a brief glimpse of the stranger’s body, but his eyes had locked onto a red armband that the invader word, with a swastika emblazed in its center.

Nova started to jump out into the hallway, hoping to take the invader by surprise, but then he spotted more motion and realized that he was not facing simply one attacker but rather a small group of them.

Nova was considering his options when the door he was crouching behind suddenly slammed inwards. A blond man had kicked it in and was quickly striding into the room, a Mauser HSc held in one hand. He pointed the gun directly at Nova’s head as his three companions filed in after him. Each of them was dressed in dark suits with long overcoats, and each brandished either a handgun or a small rifle.

“Richard Nova… we have come for something you possess. Give it us and you will live. Refuse to do as we say and you will die slowly and painfully! Now… drop your weapon.”

Nova could see no recourse but to do as he was ordered. “Perhaps we can work something out,” he said smoothly. “What exactly is it that you want?”

“Two years ago a member of your adventurer’s guild returned from Africa with a small lockbox. We want it and the objects it contains. You know of them?”

“I do. But you’d have to be mad to think I’d turn something like that over to the likes of you.”

“Then you can die… and we’ll tear apart your home until we find it.”

Nova suddenly regretted having dropped his weapon. Still, having held on to it would only have made what was about to happen take place all the sooner. He did not fear death, but neither was he looking forward to rushing into its embrace. With skill and luck, he might yet live to see another day.

Nova moved quickly, backhanding the blond man’s gun hand, knocking the weapon off-target. The weapon discharged but the bullet passed harmlessly through the wall. The albino then lunged towards two of the dark-haired men, clotheslining them and dropping both to the floor. He was about to whirl about the fourth man when a bullet ripped into his back. Pain rushed through him and he staggered towards the wall, leaning onto it for support.

The blond man moved to stand in front of Nova, a cold grin on his face. He shoved the barrel of his Mauser against Nova’s forehead. “That was rude of you, but I can’t hold it against you. I never bothered to introduce myself, did I? If a guest can’t be bothered to stand on nicety, why should you be expected to?” The man held out a gloved hand, which Nova did not take. “My name is Trevor. My friends are Thomas, Jonathan, and Samuel.”

Nova’s eyes flicked down to the man’s swastika armband. “And you’re all Americans? Why would you sell out your country like this?”

“Because we’re sinking into degradation, thanks to genetic inferiors like you and our Jew President!” Trevor’s smile vanished as he clocked Nova on the side of the head with the butt of his gun. “Now that we’ve reached the point in our relationship where we can hold a conversation, I want you to rethink your stance on helping us. Let us have the lockbox and we’ll let you live.”

It was Nova’s turn to grin now. “Really? After I’ve seen your faces and you’ve just told me your names? You’re going to let me live? How odd. I would have thought you’d practically
have
to kill me now.”

Trevor let out a sigh and glanced over at his companions. They had recovered from Nova’s assault and were smirking in anticipation of what was coming. “You’re right,” Trevor admitted. “I was lying when I said you might live. We were going to kill you, no matter what.”

Nova nodded. “Then I suppose when confronted with the options of dying with honor or dying as a coward, I will opt to not help you in your quest. Please feel free to kill me.”

Trevor studied Nova for a moment and then pulled the trigger. He shot Nova point blank, the albino’s brain and skull fragments exploding against the wall.