Past Due, page 23
part #4 of Good Intentions Series
"I said I can’t fade through shit with this fucking phone on me," Rachel shot back. "Clothes are one thing, bullshit like this is another."
"At least let me pull over, for fuck’s sake." Sierra came to an abrupt stop along a corner. "Here. Fine. Get out."
"Okay, okay, my bad. Zafirah, take care of my guy, alright?"
"It will be my pleasure," said Zafirah.
Rachel scowled. "Don’t tease if you’re not gonna follow through."
* * *
No one could be surprised to find the help sequestered on the opposite side of the house from the ballroom. Chauffers, bodyguards, and servants were expected to lie low while their betters socialized. Their placement kept them closer to the cars and limousines taking up every available space along the driveways and access road.
The unexpected came in the form of a spacious grand pavilion tent. Patio heaters, tables, chairs, and lamps filled the shelter. Though lacking for music, a dance floor, or alcohol to make it a party, the spread of food and drinks on the tables along one end of the tent presented at least some measure of hospitality.
Sierra didn’t try to hide her reactions as she entered. Her wide eyes turned this way and that. "Escorts," mostly men and almost all in dark suits, sat around the tables with paper cups and plates while hardly talking to one another. A pale chauffer idly picked at his fangs. A man heavily tattooed with runes ran his fingers over a circlet of bird skulls while murmuring a silent chant. She saw scars, brandings, mystic sigils, and more than one pair of glowing eyes. The pair that stood out the most belonged with the only significant shadow in the pavilion, a darkness that seemed to waft off a man seated alone in the corner like a cloud of dry ice. Not far from him sat a man with scales instead of skin.
A few stared at their phones, their food, or each other. Some stared right back at Sierra, awkward vigilance meeting awkward suspicion.
"What. The. Fuck," Sierra muttered under her breath.
Motion at one table broke her dreadful trance. The movement itself didn’t stand out, but the friendliness did. She caught Drew’s nod out of the corner of her eye, latched onto him and Wade, and took the long way past the spread of food. The table held cookies, a deli tray, four blends of coffee in heated containers...and others marked for different blood types. Sierra had no interest in touching any of it, but she had to look at least a little nonchalant about joining the others.
"Hey," said Drew.
"How’s it goin’?" Wade greeted her.
She stopped before sitting. "You’re chowing down?"
"Y’all got your priorities, I got mine."
Sierra took her seat. "Anyone talk to you after they directed you over here?"
"Nope," Drew answered. "Only a little bit of talking in here, too. Most of it’s in grunts and nods. The only chatty ones are over there, at the donut end of the tent." He tilted his head toward the handful of men and a couple of women in similar dark suits talking quietly. "I don’t think the rest are used to this kind of thing."
"They’re not, because it’s weird," said Sierra.
"What’re these things normally like?" asked Wade.
"We don’t have ‘these things’ with the rest of the nightlife," she hissed. "We might meet up with another group of like-minded sorts, sure, but never a mix like this. I’m sure you can imagine why. It’s the difference between being an outsider and being the boogeyman."
"Presumably that’s why hardly anyone’s talkin’ except them folks. Seems like a sorta mixed group, but they’re all speakin’ English. Prob’ly the locals. Everyone else is watchin’ and listenin’ in." Wade casually glanced here and there. "Prob’ly to us, too."
"What else do you do in this situation?" Sierra pointed out.
"Can’t really go walk around anywhere."
"Almost as if that’s half the point to all this," she agreed.
"You got any ideas?" asked Drew.
"Sure."
"Well? You’re the one with all the experience here."
She flashed the first grin he’d seen since she arrived. "I wanted to see what you boys would do first. I thought you came up with all the plans."
Wade frowned, looking to his other companion. "Damn, man."
"It’s fine," said Drew. "Relax. I’ve got this." He rose from his seat.
"Anything you wanna share first?" asked Wade.
"Nah, man. It’s not complicated. Gotta get people talking, is all." Drew buttoned his blazer as he strode to the long side tables, where a third man had joined the other two drivers to peruse the offerings. All mindfully steered clear of the others in silence—until Drew arrived.
"Hey, what’s up?" he said casually. A hirsute man with dark and beady eyes looked up at his voice in surprise. "Who you here with?"
"None of your business."
"Is it confidential, or is it embarrassing?" Drew grinned. "C’mon, man, a job’s a job. We all get it. Bills to pay, right?"
"I’m not embarrassed," the stranger huffed. "I am Moonclaw. I stand proudly under the shadow banner of the Prince of the Badlands."
"Right. Cool, cool. Hadn’t heard of him. How ‘bout you?" he asked the tall man standing past him. "The two of you together?"
"Of course we’re not," said Moonclaw. "The Badlands lie on the edge of civilization and dusk. His liege is a mere charlatan playing at feeble magic."
"Watch yourself, night walker," said the tall man. "We’re all here under truce, but the Third Sky and his Seekers will suffer no insult."
Another man standing at the table let out a chuckle. He was broader at the shoulders and arms than any of the rest, with a dark complexion and a guttural voice. "This is why neither of you should talk with strangers in strange lands. Insult has already been given, and rejected. Now what do you do about it?"
"No one here is looking for a fight, enforcer," said the tall man.
"No one dares start one, Trevor. Yes, I know who you are. Word gets around when a Circle expels an apprentice in the southwest. Practitioners have warmer parties than this." He gestured to the spread on the table. "Snacks for the staff notwithstanding."
Conversation at the other end of the tent quieted. Many watched with keen interest.
Aware of his audience, Trevor puffed out his chest in defiance. "You’re no Practitioner."
"No. As you say, I’m an enforcer. A predator. I am the Hound of the Mojave."
"No one claims the entire Mojave," Moonclaw replied sourly.
"Heh." The Hound turned away.
"Cool job titles, though," Drew spoke up before the Hound got far. "Any of you guys get dental with that?"
"What?" The Hound blinked.
"Dental?" Moonclaw frowned.
"Yeah, you know. Dental, vision, primary care." He popped a chip in his mouth. "What’re the benefits packages like?"
"I laugh at blade and bullet and I feast on the souls of my enemies," said the Hound. "I don’t need a benefits package."
"Does that cover dependents?"
"What?" the Hound repeated.
"Dependents. You know, family?"
"What family do you think the Hound has?" asked Moonclaw. "Or I?"
"You plan on staying that way forever?" Drew shrugged. "I mean, maybe you feel like you’ve got a sweet gig now. What happens when you meet someone? Is this all you want?"
"He’s got a point, you know," spoke up a newcomer behind the Hound. He was a husky man, blond and friendly-faced. "That insurance system you have down in the States is crazy. It’s downright predatory. I don’t know how you live with it."
"I don’t," the Hound growled.
"No, but that’s what I’m saying," Drew pressed. "You don’t. But it ain’t about just you. See, what happens when you get a girl and she runs into bullet or blade or a hit-and-run or whatever? Then you’re in the emergency room tryin’ to get her approved for a CAT-scan without insurance. Can’t really Hound your way through that, can you?"
"Who the hell are you, anyway?" asked Trevor.
"I’m Dave," said Drew. "Dave McBloodScythe. From Clan McBloodScythe. We’re out in Bremerton. It’s in Washington state, out on the peninsula."
Back behind him, Sierra felt her throat seize up. Wade turned away to keep from laughing.
"I have never heard of Clan McBloodScythe," growled the Hound.
"Yeah, we’re small. But. We got benefits. The co-pay’s been kickin’ my ass, though. That’s why I’m asking around. Seein’ what the other packages are like."
"Can’t say I blame you," said the friendly Canadian bodyguard beside the Hound. He held out his hand. "Steve."
"Dave," Drew lied again, shaking hands.
"Like I say, that system is crazy," Steve went on. "Pure greed. Nothing more."
"Yeah, and the little guys get screwed," said Drew. "We need something like you’ve got up here. Universal coverage, even for the likes of us."
"That’s socialist!" blurted a pale chauffer at a nearby table.
"You’re a vampire, why do you care what’s socialist?" asked Drew.
"Oh my god, here we go," Sierra murmured with dread.
The vampire stood. "I’m an American vampire, damn it! We’re a capitalist society!"
"Uh-huh, and look where it’s got you. Sitting out in the tent with donuts and whatever’s in the thermoses over there. Where’s the upward mobility, man? This ain’t about who’s a vampire and who’s a werewolf. This is about class."
Wade grinned at Sierra. "Naw. Not yet. We give this another minute to keep spinnin’ up. Then we go."
Chapter Fourteen:
Here’s That Attention You Ordered
"I hate staying behind."
"You and me both."
"It’s not exactly the kind of party I want to go to, but I hate not being there."
"Yep."
Taylor hesitated, looking up from the implements on the countertop to Onyx close by on the other side. "I don’t mean anything personal."
Onyx poured another tiny mound of salt onto the last small slip of paper. With that step of the assembly line finished, she folded the first slip together into a small packet and tied it closed with string. "Didn’t take it that way. Although it is personal for me."
"Are you mad they asked you not to go?"
"No. It makes sense. It makes perfect sense. That’s the problem." Onyx wound the string too tight around the second packet, tearing the paper. Salt spilled out. She moved onto the next one in line. "This is about me, but I have to stay behind while most of our friends risk their necks for me. I know it would be stupid for me to go out there. That doesn’t leave me feeling less stupid for staying behind." Onyx finished another packet before her words caught up with her. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you."
"Didn’t mean anything personal by that?" Taylor grinned.
Onyx let out a long sigh. "No. Far as we can tell, you’re the only one of us who can handle a gun and hold down an active spell. You’re ideal for hanging back here with us."
"Anyone can learn the gun stuff." Taylor looked down at the packets. "Is that for canceling magic?"
"You’ve been learning," said Onyx.
"I read the first couple books you and Molly told me about. Kinda hard to get too far into this with school going on, but I picked up a little. Seems like anyone can learn that much."
"Anyone can learn the basic principles from a book, sure. Knowing which books to trust is the first real trick. Putting it to work is a level up. Also, it’s important to remember there’s more than one way to fulfill the principles. Different Practices have different philosophies. It can feel like the magic works in completely different ways, but there’s a kind of cart-before-the-horse thing going on when it comes to sorcery. This stuff here is on a basic universal level.
"Salt is good for diminishing or disrupting magic. Iron, too, but that gets into symbolism. It’s why a nail in your pocket wards off magic but a nail driven into the ground or a wall can anchor a spell—depending on your Practice. Water’s also good, but water is another component that can be used in more than one direction."
"Because it’s so easy to manipulate?" asked Taylor.
"Yeah." Onyx gestured outward with both hands. "It flows away, so it can wash away magic, but if you’ve got it contained that changes the game. Salt is a different matter. You can’t really fling loose salt very far. Wrap it in a container that bursts, though, and now we’re talking. There are spells for unwinding magic if you need to do it delicately or channel the power some other way, but that’s draining and it can get you into a contest of wills." She tapped the countertop. "The only effort you need to put into this is a good throw."
"I’ll try to remember that," said Taylor. Then she winced. "Should we have sent this with the others when they left?"
"I passed a few around. Alex knows a little theory. I made him read the same book. Lorelei understands this stuff, but she’ll do what she’s gonna do. These are for us."
"You think we’re gonna need ‘em?"
"If this goes the way things usually do?" She shrugged. "I also don’t know what else to do with myself. I can’t do anything active if they might recognize my magic." Onyx looked past her friend to the open doorway to the spacious bathroom. "This is kind of how we are at home. If Molly is working, I feel like I should be working, too."
"Turns out I’m not doing a whole lot," Molly called back. She appeared in the doorway. "I moved the literal birds-eye view from my brain to the water in the tub, so it’s easier to hold. But I can’t get anything more than that. The birds don’t want to move in close. They get a sense of danger and pull back. Either it’s the same barrier Rachel hit or it overlaps.
"Anyway, I’d swear I’m looking at an Oscars after-party. There’s a big tent for all the drivers and flunkies. A handful of people are out on the patio at any given time. Most people are inside and the birds aren’t getting a good angle to look through the windows. I’m of half a mind to blow off the scrying and get naked and get in the tub."
"Molly," Onyx deadpanned, "what did I say about getting naked in front of company?"
"I’m not gonna complain," said Taylor. Then she froze up when they both grinned back at her. "Okay, I’m joking here."
"You sure?" asked Molly. "We have a lot of the same side-action in common."
Taylor slapped her hands over her face. Onyx laughed. "We’re kidding, too. We aren’t predatory. It was funny."
"I know," Taylor said directly into her hands. "I get it. I’m still a dork." The hands fell away. "Are we doing sex life confessions? Now doesn’t feel like the time but I’ve got plenty."
"Oh hell we’re up for that anytime, but we should do that with wine," said Molly.
"Cool." Taylor glanced to Onyx. "I’m not after him. It was an awesome weekend but I’m not up for the whole poly thing."
"You don’t have to tell us, Taylor. We’re good either way." Her smile didn’t last. "Molly, you’re right. We need wine. And free time. And something useful to do until then."
"You can come on in here and watch aerial TV in the bathtub."
"Sure, I wanna see," said Taylor.
Onyx followed, not bothering to hide her pouty face from her partner. "I should be proud of you for figuring out the image transfer thing in the tub."
"But you can’t because you’re preoccupied?" asked Molly.
"Preoccupied, tense, and bored. I need to do something."
A buzz at her waist stopped her complaints. Onyx plucked the phone from the pocket of her slacks. The number matched one of the burner phones, but not one Onyx had labeled already in her efforts to keep busy. "Hello?" she answered.
"Hey, it’s me. I’m outside the party bored as fuck and this stupid phone won’t even load up a dumbass mobile game. What’s up over there?"
"Rachel? Um, not a lot. We’re trying to watch the party via some bird friends, but they want to keep clear kind of like you have to. Hey, wait a sec." Onyx moved into the bathroom, looking down into the large tub. As promised, the waters held the overhead image of the sprawling mansion, the adjoining tent, its full driveway and the surrounding grounds. The view turned as Molly’s volunteer slowly wheeled in the night sky. "You’re outside the property? You’re invisible, right?"
"Nobody should see or hear me," Rachel answered. "Of course, I’m saying that in front of an invisible fucking wall that shouldn’t be able to block me, so I suppose that’s not something I can take for granted... while I fuck around out here in the open... in a white dress... with a fucking halo. Y’know, I imagine my wardrobe seems pretty limited, but it’s not something I’ve had to think about a lot until the past few months. I’m starting to see the value in the Gloom Girl look you and Molly are rockin’ all the time, is what I’m saying."
"Where are you, exactly?" asked Onyx.
"I dunno, Goth-curious? Is that a thing? I’ve got some ordinary clothes for playing mortal, but I let Lorelei pick all that out."
"No, I mean, where physically?"
"They’re back at the crib. I didn’t think I’d be playing Normal Girl on this trip."
Molly stood close by, frowning. "Did she say ‘crib?’"
Onyx slapped her hand over her face. "Rachel."
"I mean, that’s it, really. It’s not like angels never change clothes, but it’s not weird to keep on wearing the same basic idea for a few hundred years. Changing up all the time comes across as materialistic and vain. Then all the other bitch-ass judgy angels throw their judgy looks at you and say their judgy shit behind your back, and then—"
"Rachel," Onyx repeated.
"What? Sorry," Rachel sighed. "I’m irritated and bored. My bad."
"You said you’re at the barrier, right? Where are you? We can see from overhead. Magic."
"Uh. The main driveway is a little to my left. I’m by the fir tree closest to the street. There’s a streetlamp nearby. I don’t see any signs."
"That’s fine. I think I know where you are. You want something to do?"
"Obviously."
"Okay, we’re going to try to map out what this barrier does and doesn’t cover. I’m gonna need you to push on it as you walk or fly all the way around it."
"Sure. I’ve tried a lot of angles already, though. Seems consistent all around."
