Lord of the Feast, page 20
“Been a big day for you, hasn’t it?” the man said.
Lee didn’t respond.
“I have to say, we’re a little disappointed that you gave up so easily. We thought you were made of tougher stuff.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m not.”
“You’ve been on this assignment for almost an entire year, and just as things finally start to heat up, you decide that’s it, you’re out?”
Lee lowered their gaze to the sidewalk. “I couldn’t stand watching Kate put herself in danger.”
“That’s the job. Watching and reporting. You didn’t allow yourself to develop feelings for her, did you?”
Lee met the man’s gaze once more. “You know I did. You – or someone like you – are always watching.”
The man smiled. “All right, yes, we knew. But as long as your emotions didn’t interfere with your work, we could look the other way. But they’re interfering now, and we can’t have that. Not when Caprice Linton is getting closer to resurrecting the Lord of the Feast.”
“Why don’t you send someone else to help Kate then? Why don’t you do it?”
“That’s not how we do things, and you know it. The Unbroken Court must retain its neutrality.”
“But not so neutral that you don’t send operatives to deal with situations when it suits you.”
“When the need is great enough, yes. And no one forced you to become an agent of the Court. It was your choice.”
“A choice I’m beginning to regret.”
“The Court asks much of us, and we all come to regret serving it sooner or later. But that doesn’t mean we stop doing so.” The man sighed. “I sympathize with your situation, Lee, I truly do. Forget the whole end-of-existence stuff and ask yourself this: If you really love Kate, how can you refuse to help her, no matter the cost?”
Without another word, the man turned away and started walking in the direction Lee had come from. They didn’t bother chasing after him. He would speak no more on this matter. Officers of the Court were like that. They showed up, made their pronouncements, then left. It was up to you whether or not you acted on them. But in this case, Lee didn’t really have a choice.
They removed their phone from their pocket, tapped a few buttons, and summoned an Uber. They returned their phone to their pocket and waited. Lee could’ve called Kate and apologized, but they didn’t want her wasting time by driving back to get them. They knew where Kate was going – Stronghold Self-Storage in Collier – and they’d have the Uber take them there. With any luck, they’d arrive before Kate opened the storage unit containing the Lord’s arm and leg, and before Ethan showed up to try and take them and before Haksaw decided to kill her.
Lee waited for their ride, their anxiety increasing with each passing moment.
Stay safe until I can get back to you, my love, they thought.
* * *
Ethan sat in the backseat of his helpers’ Mercedes. Mr. Yes was driving and Mrs. No sat in the passenger seat, window down, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the sun and air on her face. It was a lovely image, Ethan thought, one that would make a great painting. Evidently Yes and No – stupid names – were regular clients of his aunt’s. Ethan was familiar with most of the regulars, even if he knew none of them very well, but he’d never so much as heard of Mr. Yes and Mrs. No. There were some clients who demanded anonymity, though, and Caprice made sure they got it while they were in her house. He assumed Yes and No were among the latter. They weren’t exactly maintaining a low profile today, though. Then again, after he’d been shot, Mrs. No had gone back into High Strangeness to finish off anyone who hadn’t been dead while Mr. Yes saw to his wound. The couple obviously wanted to leave no witnesses behind. Smart.
The bullet Reyna had fired at him had gone all the way through his shoulder, so there had been no bullet to dig out. Yes, with quick, efficient motions, cleaned and bandaged it. Then he’d given Ethan a handful of pills and told him to swallow them. When Ethan asked what they were, Yes had simply said, Medicine. Ethan took the pills, and they’d kicked in almost immediately. His shoulder still hurt like it was on fire, but he felt distant from the pain now, and it was tolerable. The Mercedes’ trunk was like a killers’ convenience store, containing weapons, ammo, rope, and restraints, but also a fully stocked med kit, snacks and bottled water, towels and wet wipes, and fresh clothes. His skin and hair were more or less cleaned of blood, but the clothes he’d taken from Kate’s room were unsalvageable. No had put them in a plastic garbage bag and stuffed them in the trunk. We’ll toss them in a dumpster once we’re far enough away from the bar, she’d said. Ethan wasn’t worried about the police finding the bloodied clothes. Caprice paid them quite handsomely to ignore what went on in the House of Red Tears, and if necessary, she could toss a bonus their way to cover up what had happened at High Strangeness. The cops were usually only too happy to overlook whatever weirdness took place in the Cannery District anyway. So No’s precaution likely wasn’t necessary, but Ethan appreciated the woman’s thoroughness and professionalism.
There hadn’t been a lot to choose from among Yes and No’s spare clothing, and he’d ended up selecting a pair of black running shorts with red stripes on the sides, a plain white T-shirt, and a pair of well-worn sneakers that were a half size too large for him. The outfit was way less embarrassing than the I Wanna Rock T-shirt, too-small jeans, and flip-flops with plastic daisies he’d stolen from Kate, so he wasn’t about to complain.
Since Ethan was in no shape to drive due to his injury and the ‘medicine’ he was on, they’d taken the Mercedes. He’d switched the Lord’s left arm – the part he’d gotten from his dearly departed mother – from the trunk of his Camaro to the Mercedes, and Yes had driven them out of the bar’s parking lot. Now they were traveling aimlessly through the Cannery.
“So what’s our next destination, Ethan?” Yes asked. “Your aunt sent us to get the torso from Haksaw—”
A task you failed at, Ethan thought.
“But she didn’t tell us the location of any other parts,” No said. “Your cousin has the eyes, correct?”
“I think she may have the torso as well,” Ethan said. “I’m not sure why. Just a feeling.”
“Your family is good when it comes to witchy shit like that,” Yes said. “So I bet it’s more than a feeling.”
“I don’t think Kate has anything else, though,” Ethan said. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Another feeling?” No asked.
“Not really. I know how my brother and cousin think – thought – and I can’t see them storing the body parts they were given custody of at the bar. They wouldn’t have been secure there. Too many people in the Cannery would’ve sniffed out the power the parts contained and attempted to steal them. I’m sure Reyna and Weston stored the parts off-site somewhere.”
“But you don’t know where,” Yes said.
“No. But I know how to find out.” I hope.
He took his phone from his pocket, wincing as the action jostled his wounded shoulder, and called Caprice.
Chapter Twelve
“I’m sorry, but these things do happen.”
Caprice sat behind the desk in her office, Axton standing at her side, his hands clasped behind his back. Sitting in front of them was a killer who went by the sobriquet the Silent Man – although he wasn’t being particularly silent now. He wore a black bodysuit, black gloves, and a black hood with eye holes. The effect would’ve been more sinister if the man would lose a few pounds, Caprice thought, but then who was she to judge?
“I paid good money for my session today, and I expected to get a victim that could go the distance. Instead, mine has a heart attack and dies before I even touch them!”
“I’m sure it’s because you’re so terrifying,” Axton said drily.
Caprice suppressed a smile. “All of our playthings are given medical exams to ensure they’re in acceptable health before we offer them to clients. Unfortunately, given the stressful situations playthings experience, unforeseen medical events do occur from time to time. Please accept my apologies. I’ll have a fresh plaything brought to you, and I’ll make certain the medical staff double-check it first to ensure it’s in prime condition.”
She hoped this would placate the Silent Man. If all went according to plan, the Lord of the Feast would be Incarnated soon, but while she knew the god would bring about the end of all existence, she wasn’t sure exactly how soon it would happen. The Book of Depravity gave no indication how quickly the Lord would work, just that it would greatly accelerate the Omniverse’s collapse into total entropy. But what did rapidly mean on a cosmic scale? A century? A millennium? An epoch? An eon? The Lord would most likely start with Earth, but there was still a possibility that Caprice would live out the rest of her natural life before the planet was destroyed, in which case she’d continue to keep the House of Red Tears open. Strictly speaking, she wouldn’t need to, for there would no longer be a need to harvest life energy to complete the Incarnation. But she liked running her own business. After the first attempt at the Incarnation failed, she’d needed money to establish the House, and a lot of it. So, with the help of professional thieves, she’d stolen all the wealth the Shardlows and Lintons had acquired over the years and used it to fund her project. She’d worked damn hard over the last decade, and she’d succeeded beyond her expectations. No way would she give it up as long as she lived. Besides, she could always find fun ways to use the additional life force she’d acquire. All of this was the reason why she didn’t tell the Not-So-Silent Man to fuck off. As long as she was still running the House of Red Tears, she’d act as a businessperson, and that meant maintaining good relationships with customers.
“Screw you!” the Silent Man snapped.
Caprice blinked. “Excuse me?”
The Silent Man stood, placed his gloved palms on Caprice’s desk, and leaned forward.
“I can’t just pick up where I left off. The mood is completely spoiled now. I spend days mentally preparing myself before a kill. I’m not some impulsive butcher who kills on a whim. Those animals are the premature ejaculators of the serial killer world. I am a serious devotee of the homicidal arts, goddamnit!” He punctuated goddamnit by slamming a fist on the desktop.
Out of the corner of her eye, Caprice saw Axton start toward the man, but she raised her index finger, and Axton restrained himself. The Silent Man continued his rant.
“You may think you have a monopoly on providing killers with victims and a place to ply their trade, but you’re wrong. I know of at least three others in this country, along with one in Canada and two in South America. After today’s cock-up, I’m going to be taking my business to one of them, and I intend to tell every killer I meet that the House of Red Tears isn’t worth the money. And speaking of money, I expect a full refund, and I expect it—”
Caprice nodded and Axton sprung forward. He pulled an ice pick from his white suit jacket’s inner pocket and plunged it into the Silent Man’s eye sockets with two quick jabs, wiggling it back and forth each time. When he was finished, he stepped back. Thin lines of blood ran from the man’s eyes. Red tears, indeed.
“—now,” the man finished. He remained in that position, hands on Caprice’s desk, staring at her quietly, silent at last.
“Nicely done, Axton.”
Axton wiped the ice pick clean on the Silent Man’s arm.
“I’ve been practicing. You never know when you’re going to need to perform a quick lobotomy.”
Caprice would’ve been content to allow the Silent Man to leave – until he said he was going to bad-mouth her business to others. Word of mouth was the only type of advertising a place like hers had, and she wasn’t going to allow some self-important prick to poison the House’s reputation.
“Take him down to Processing,” Caprice said. “Tell them to ask around and see if any of the clients currently on the premises would like an extra plaything – on the house.”
Axton grinned. “Yes, Caprice.” He gently took hold of the Silent Man’s arm and helped him into an upright position. He then removed the man’s hood to reveal a perfectly ordinary face. The man looked at Axton quizzically, as if he thought he knew who he was but couldn’t quite place him.
“If you’ll come with me, sir,” Axton said.
Keeping a hand on the man’s arm, Axton led him to the office door. He opened it, and as they stepped into the hall, the Silent Man gave Caprice a silent look. Then Axton closed the door.
Caprice sighed. That was one problem dealt with. She hoped there wouldn’t be any more today. She—
Her phone rang. She checked the display and saw Ethan was calling. Could he have procured all the Lord’s parts already? She hoped so. She could use some good news right now.
She answered. “Ethan, my boy! How are things going?”
She listened.
When Ethan was finished, she was in even a worse mood than she had been when the Silent Man was barking at her. She briefly considered having Axton lobotomize Ethan, but things hadn’t gotten that bad. Not yet.
“I think I can help. I’ll call you back.”
She disconnected.
She put her hand to her face, stroked her lower jaw as she thought. Despite what she’d told Ethan, she wasn’t certain that what she had in mind would work. But she could see no other way to get the information he needed, and the little bastard sure as hell needed assistance. He still only had the left arm that he’d gotten from Delora. Kate had the eyes and, if his hunch was correct, the torso, and he believed she was on the way to get the parts Weston and Reyna had been charged with guarding. Caprice couldn’t believe how fucked up this had gotten. She’d hired Mr. Yes and Mrs. No to retrieve the torso, and they’d obviously failed. She wondered what had happened to Haksaw. Had Kate found him and taken the torso from him? Had she killed him? No, killing wasn’t in her nature. She was very much the white sheep in the family in that regard. She should never have let Haksaw keep the torso all these years. At the time, she believed she made the right choice, had sensed that was where the torso needed to be, but she’d clearly made a mistake. Haksaw had taken the torso not long after the first Incarnation failed. Caprice thought she had escaped any bad aftereffects from that night, but what if her judgment had been impaired and she hadn’t realized it?
It was too late to worry about such things now. She needed to focus on the present, and that meant finding out where Reyna and Weston had stored the Lord’s right arm and right leg. And she could think of only one place where she might come by that knowledge.
She needed to make another visit to the Repository.
* * *
The spirits of Nila, Dalton, Cordell, Victorina, and Lissette moved alongside the road, unseen by passing motorists, although more than a few felt a cold chill as they drove by the revenants. They would have a difficult time falling asleep that night, and when they finally did slumber, their dreams would be uneasy ones. Felton kept to the woods that bordered the road, and when there were no trees to provide cover, he moved fast and low to the ground. He wasn’t concerned about being seen – what could mortals do to harm a creature like him? – but animal instinct told him to be cautious, and he obeyed without question.
The spirits traveled faster than a human could walk, but not as fast as a car could move, and they found this frustrating. They did not have physical bodies, were beings composed primarily of thought, emotion, and memory, but they were forced to behave as if they were corporeal. This meant they could not simply vanish from one place and reappear in another, which would’ve been much more convenient. They needed an anchor to remain in this world, and the void in the basement of the Shardlow mansion had fulfilled that function for them. Felton served as their anchor now, which meant they could not stray far from him. To make matters worse, they could feel themselves growing weaker with each moment that passed. The dark energy that emanated from the void had not only anchored them in this world, it had sustained them as well. Without it, they would eventually weaken to the point where they faded into nonexistence, and while this prospect did not frighten them, they needed to reach the House of Red Tears while they still possessed enough strength to stand against Caprice.
They did what they could to slow their weakening. They absorbed the life energy from grass and weeds they drifted over, the plants turning black and withering. They drained the vitality from insects and small animals – snakes, lizards, toads, mice – leaving them desiccated husks that Felton would snap up for whatever nutrition remained in their tiny empty bodies. What they took wasn’t enough to halt their weakening, but it helped slow it.
As they traveled, two additional spirits joined them. They immediately recognized Tressa and Delmar’s essences, and the family members enjoyed a reunion, albeit a melancholy one. Felton approached the newcomers, sniffed them, sensed the patterns of their energy, and if he had a tail, he would’ve wagged it.
They continued on together, a beast and seven spirits now, and as they drew closer to Oakmont and the House of Red Tears, more would join their ranks – Delora, Reyna, Weston…. All of them with a single shared goal: to stop the second Incarnation from succeeding—
—and to make Caprice and Ethan suffer as much as possible in the process.
* * *
Caprice went to the Repository by herself this time. If Axton had known what she planned to do, he would’ve tried to stop her, and she might’ve let him. There was an excellent chance that this would fail spectacularly and result in her death, or worse, but she could see no other recourse. If the Lord of the Feast was ever to be born, she had to take the risk. She was afraid – something she would never admit to anyone in this world, including Axton – but she hadn’t done everything she had over the last decade to turn aside from the path now. She was Caprice Fucking Linton, and she had a god to create.
