4 - Behind the Eight-Ball
#13 of Shadowdancer
Shadowdancer
By Dracon
[Notice: The characters and events within are inspired by the "Gargoyles" TV Series and as such credit goes to the creators of said series. If any characters appear in the story from said series, those characters belong to their creators.
Should anyone wish to use the characters or events within in their own works, permission is hereby granted to do so. I just ask that you let me know if you are going to do so and provide credit in your work.
Underage viewers should not read this series, and all readers do so at their own risk.
The character of Shang Hua is a copyright of Wrensilverfox. Permission is not granted for use of this character. Contact his player for permission.]
"Behind the Eight-Ball"
----Chapter I----
1630 W. Lexington St., Chicago, Illinois
November 11th, 2027
2:28 P.M.
My back slammed against the brick wall like a badly thrown Frisbee. Fat Olaf grinned at me as he stood over my battered body, inspecting his work like a master craftsman. I sighed as I pulled myself up off the grungy floor of the alley. You know, there were just some days it didn't pay to wake up for.
This must have been Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays. I opened my eyes, a move I quickly regretted as I saw Fat Olaf's fist cock back for another hard blow. A voice spoke from the shadows, telling him, "Alright, Olaf, that's enough. He's a deadbeat, but that doesn't mean you need to make it literally accurate."
Fat Olaf looked down at me, still holding his fist in midair, for a few seconds while his brain struggled to process this brave new idea. You could tell, just by looking at him, that this concept of 'mercy' wasn't one he was really geared for. "Fat" Olaf, of course, was something of a misnomer. Not that I was in any position to argue with him at the moment.
He had at least half a foot on me, and he looked like he'd just stepped out of some pulp fantasy novel. Blond, pale, blue eyes, expression that indicated an IQ somewhere around his shoe size, I'm sure you know the routine. I can't be the only one to run into goons like this, right?
Haltingly, he leaned down and offered me a hand, ironically the one he'd just thrown me with, and helped me up. After I dusted myself off, I told him, "Well, congrats, Olaf. They say the day ain't wasted if you learn something, and I bet you never did that before."
Fat Olaf looked down at me, his thick unibrow scrunched together like a silkworm in confusion. I sighed. It just isn't worth the effort sometimes. I shoved past Fat Olaf, which felt a little bit like trying to shove past the Sears Tower, and addressed the brains of the operation. I tried not to hobble too much, but it was an effort. "So, Mr. de Silva, can I assume this isn't a social visit?"
Eckhart de Silva, as a general rule, didn't make social visits. I knew for a fact that he was here about the backlogged rent for my office, but there were certain formalities you had to observe.
I like to pigeonhole people, figure out where they came from, why they're here. de Silva irritated me. I got the feeling he was from Europe somewhere, but that was about all. He looked like a corrupt politician, or at least like he played one on TV. His hair was silver and elegantly coifed above weasely eyes set deep within a jowly face. He might have been fit once, but he'd relied on people like Fat Olaf too long, I figured.
He also looked down at me (why is it that everyone who wants a chunk out of my hide is always bigger than me? It just ain't fair, I tell ya.) and poked me with his cane. I saw light glittering off its topper and whistled. He'd brought the diamond cane this time. Looked like I was in pretty deep.
His refined, cultured voice rolled out like a thick fog. "No, my dear Logan, I'm afraid not. It seems to me that you've forgotten our little agreement, no?"
I held my hands out, making sure to keep them where he could see them. "It's not like that, Mr. de Silva. Business has been slow, and I told you I had to pay off some debts back home. I'll get you the money, I just need a little more time."
Eckhart frowned, and I felt a chill go down my spine. "I care little for your troubles, Logan. I want my money. However, I am not an unreasonable man. I'll give you... until this time next week. No charge."
Somehow, I felt less than relieved.
After he'd pulled out of the alleyway, his silver Rolls Royce gliding along the road in near silence, I hobbled off toward my office.
I had to wonder if this glorified broom closet was worth all the trouble. Okay, so I'd have a little more space if I could bear to put some of the cruft into storage, and maybe I ought to whip out a little Lysol and spiff the place up. I really didn't think it would help much.
I'd gotten the place on a whim, truthfully. It had one of those oval glass panels in the door, like you see in the movies. And it just smelled right, too. There was a musty air to the place, laced with something like Eau de Gym Socque. I guessed it fit the image, and had signed the papers a little too hastily.
If I'd taken the time to meet the local color first, I would have been out of there like a shot. I could be a little impulsive sometimes. Always used to drive my... family nuts, back in Phoenix.
At least I had room for one amenity. Business wasn't always this bad, and sometimes the only thing that kept me going was a massive infusion of caffeine. This little coffee pot and I had seen a lot of action together. Saluting it, I poured out a cup, then legged it over to my desk.
It seemed somehow fitting. By the time I'd found the aspirin I was looking for, the coffee had gotten cold. I looked up at the calendar, lost in a sour funk, and checked the date. Yup, Thursday the 11th.
I went to the bathroom, started the water running, and dunked my face in the sink, washing the blood off my face. I glanced in the mirror, surveying the damage. It didn't seem too bad, nothing I couldn't shrug off.
Blue eyes stared out of the mirror at me, set in a craggy, thick-jawed face under an unkempt mass of black hair. I didn't like the way my jaw popped as I gritted my teeth, but there was no fraggin' way I was going to drag myself to the doctor after a little thing like this.
I was just drying my face off when I heard a most unfamiliar sound. I thought I'd heard the sound of someone knocking at my door. Poking my head out of the bathroom, I did a double take as I saw a silhouette in front of it.
I shouted, "Be with ya in a minute! Come on in, the door's unlocked."
Now, in the movies, my visitor would have been some ravishingly beautiful blonde who'd recently discovered she was a widow, or that her husband had run off, or some such variation.
My luck has never been that good. When I came out of the restroom, I saw a slim, pale-skinned man in a heavy white coat seated in front of the desk, fiddling with the Magic 8-Ball I kept there.
I strode over and popped it out of his hands with a quick swipe. "Hands off. Now, what can I do ya for?"
He looked up into my eyes, and, I could see the tension lines around his. "Mr. Starr, I need your help. My name's John Yutani, and I'm a manager at a local business office. Four days ago, my shop was broken into, and I want to find the ones responsible."
I flopped into my seat, tossing the ball from hand to hand. "Okay, I can see where you'd be a little miffed. But, wouldn't the police have better luck? That's what they're here for, right?"
He sighed, and began to reach into his coat pocket. I waggled a finger at him, and he stopped. "This is a little... awkward, Mr. Starr. I was just going to provide with the surveillance records of the break-in. The intruders wrecked our security center, you see, and so we lost most of the recordings."
I nodded, and he pulled a flash drive out of his pocket. Swiveling my chair to the side, I slotted it into my computer, the archaic system protesting against the demands.
I turned the monitor so he could watch the display and ran the video, trusting in my...custom anti-virals to guard against any dirty tricks. In this business, it never hurts to be too careful.
It showed a mosaic of twisty little passages, all alike. Then it zoomed into one corridor, and I narrowed my eyes as I watched. It showed a band of creatures out of a bad sci-fi movie, guarding a small, slender human. The critters were color-coded for ease of recognition, near as I could tell.
I wracked my memory, and waited until that little fridge light turned on over my head. I spun around, and began riffling through a stack of newspapers. So sue me, I'm old-fashioned. I like to be able to feel what I'm reading, capesh? There, on the front page, was a big splashy picture of the night sky, winged silhouettes outlined against it.
I tossed the paper over to Yutani and thumped the picture. "You've come a long way to show me this video, John. But, ahh... I'm gonna have to ask for a bit of a bonus if you want me to come all the way to New York, y'know?"
He read through the Times article quickly, looking for any relevant details. "Fascinating. You're a man of many talents, Mr. Starr. But no, this is a local affair. My office is just down the 53, in Romeoville. It seems there's more of these... creatures than I had thought."
I took the paper back, tossing it onto the stack, and finished watching the video. "So, you want me to track these critters down for you, eh? What do you want me to do with 'em? Gun them down while they're not watching, perhaps? I don't do wetwork, John."
He shook his head, sweat beading on his forehead, and held his hands out, palms to me. "No, no, no, nothing like that. I think the man that was with them was controlling them somehow. I haven't figured out how or why yet, but I don't think it was their fault. I just want to know where they live, so I can free them!"
I looked at him and snorted. "Nice speech, Johnny. But, I think you're lying. Today's your lucky day, though. I could use the money, so I'll see what I can do to help you out. You gotta promise not to kill them, though. Take it or leave it."
Yutani blinked at me, not quite comprehending. I gritted my teeth, feeling that annoying click again. I was still convinced that he was less than sincere, but de Silva had me over a barrel. "Why ever would I want to harm those magnificent creatures? I want that man brought to justice, certainly, but killing the... gargoyles is the farthest thing from my mind, I assure you."
I shrugged, spreading my hands. "Sure thing, chummer."
From there, we dickered over my price for a while, and he seemed to relax as we returned to more familiar territory. When it came to the money, he seemed as honest as anyone I'd ever met.
We shook on the deal, and out of habit, I pulled one of my usual bits of mischief. I'd palmed one of my business cards, pressing it into his hand as we shook. Maybe it was overkill, since we were already committed, but it was just a quirk of mine. He smiled as he pocketed it, and left me with a sizable retainer. It wasn't enough to pay off de Silva, but it was a good start.
I watched the video a few more times, trying to learn what I could about my new targets. The two males were easy enough to read. The wolf-like one had the bearing of a military man, strangely enough. I'd want to watch out for him. The other one, the green-skinned male, seemed like a more reasonable sort. Maybe a little arrogant, certainly confident enough, but I watched the expressions on his beaked face. I didn't figure him for a cold-blooded killer, and it seemed like he might be in charge of the team.
The dames were a little harder to read, though I certainly didn't mind watching either of them in action. The smaller one looked almost human, with chocolaty skin. She had the look of a dancer or gymnast, even under her armor, and legs that looked like they went all the way to heaven. Something about her, though, made my hackles rise in protest. I couldn't even say what it was that bothered me, but I figured I'd be wary around her anyway.
But the big one, she was something else altogether. Looking at her, I figured she could probably lift my car without breaking a sweat. She was just massive, but had a certain alluring quality as well. Alluring, hell, she was a walking advertisement for sex. She had a curvy, hourglass figure under all the muscles, with tits the size of couch cushions, a slim waist, flared hips, and it looked like she wasn't afraid of showing off, either, as her clothes revealed a good deal of her azure skin.
Her face really caught my attention, though. Something about it spoke of an honesty that's rare in this day and age, and I could respect that.
I watched the slender human, too. I didn't buy Yutani's story. Not with the way the big girl was watching his back. That didn't look like the reaction of a servant to me. Bodyguard, maybe, but not a servant. I'd be very interested to find out what their story was.
One thing caught my eye, or rather my ears. The video was grainy and flickering, but the audio track was worse, no doubt hastily reconstructed after the attack. But, I thought I could make out a little speech. A bit of puttering with an enhancer program made it clear enough to be understood.
The wolf had just dived past an intersection, and the green-skinned one had almost gotten his head blown off by a security turret. He turned to the cobalt woman and the human, asking if they could do anything about it. The man replied, "Not from here. I need access to a computer."
I played that line over several times, since it was the only thing he'd said that I could hear clearly. He looked like an American, but his accent was wrong, it had a certain Oriental sound... Hong Kong, maybe?
I thought about my interview with Yutani. He, too, was small and whip-thin, and had an oddly Oriental accent. Suddenly, things became a lot clearer in my mind.
I pulled another cup of coffee from the pot and began to do a bit of Network searching. When I thought about it, of course I remembered the stories in the news about them. It wasn't so much that I thought they were hoaxes, I just didn't see how it had much to do with me.
There were reports from all over the country about them, it seemed, though I didn't see any that matched my quarry. Of course, most of them were written with the same amount of journalistic integrity as the average U.F.O. piece.
One piece that caught my eye was a diatribe calling itself "The Quarryman's Manifesto". Stifling my distaste, I read through the entire hate-filled manuscript. I got the impression that whoever had written it was a small-minded bigot that was jealous of the... prestige of the Ku Klux Klan and wanted his own piece of the pie. Still, reports showed that they had a strong backing in many parts of the country. I even recalled hearing about a rally here in town a few months back, with something like 600 people attending.
According to the Manifesto, they were dedicated to ridding the world of the gargoyle 'monsters', and it seemed like they were willing to use violence to get the job done. Nasty customers, it looked like.
I figured I'd grabbed all I could off the Net, though I meant to write up a report for Yutani before too much longer, so I opened the safe behind my desk and pulled out my gear. It was getting to be time to hit the streets, but first, I wanted to check on something.
I picked up the Magic 8-Ball off my desk and concentrated, asking aloud, "Am I gonna regret taking this job?"
I flipped it over with a flick of the wrist and grimaced. "Signs point to yes."
That's about how my luck usually runs.
"The King in Yellow"
2158 N. Halsted St.
5:32 P.M.
I pulled into the lot of my favorite watering hole, sliding my RAV4 into a slot near the street. "The King in Yellow" was a small joint, without much to recommend it to the general run. But, it had an eclectic variety of regulars, and I thought one of them might be able to give me a hand with the case.
I'd have to be very careful about how I approached this, of course. The confidence between a detective and his client is a sacred thing, but I have a bit of a reputation myself. If I suddenly started asking about weird critters in the night, well, nobody would find it too much amiss.
I jandered into the bar, waving at Whatley, the bartender. Taking a look around the room, I watched for anyone I recognized. Torao Tanaka waved me over to his table, and my spirits lifted. He might just be able to help me.
I ordered a Guinness from the bar and slid into the chair opposing him. He nodded to me as I sat, his rich voice flowing like a fine wine. "It's good to see you again, Logan. How did those utilities work out for you?"
Grinning at him, I replied, "Pretty well, Torao. You done good, as usual. But that's not why I'm here."
I pulled a small folder out of my pocket and handed it over. "Can you tell me anything about these things?"
He flipped it open and dropped it on the table, his jaw flying open. "Nande kuso!" Explain yourself, Logan. Why do you want to know about these people?"
I nodded, leaning back in the chair. "Looks like you were the right one to ask. It's nothing, really, I just want to find out about them. How to contact them, where they live, that sort of thing."
He closed the folder, pushing it across the table towards me, trying to compose himself. "I wish I could help you, but... I need to know exactly why I'm helping, Logan. Don't try to deceive me, my friend.
I shrugged. "What do you think, Torao? You know I can't break confidence for you."
He stared at me for a minute, and I could feel him judging me. "So ka, Logan. I suppose I overemphasize my knowledge in this case, anyway. I really can't help you."
He stared into space for a moment, and I resisted the urge to wave my hand in front of his face. He stared forlornly at me and advised, "About all I can suggest is that you should examine Polaris Holdings. My sources suggest that it may have some connection with the gargoyles in this city."
Nodding, I entered that into my portable. "Best lead I've got so far, I appreciate it. You just let me know if there's anything I can do to repay you."
He smiled at me as he rose, citing the time. "Certainly, Logan. Just be wary. You're getting involved in something bigger than you know... as usual."
I shook his hand and said, "Yeah, I'm good at that, I know. Watch your back, man."
Givens Castle
10244 S. Longwood Dr
6:46 P.M.
Jamie lay on a bench in one of the basement chambers. It was filled with exercise equipment, made to an extreme tolerance. Much of it was sized for her use, though several pieces of equipment were sized for the other Gargoyles. She was currently working with a relatively small dumbbell, pumping it up and down with the small hand at the elbow of her left wing.
Her wing still felt weak from the ordeal a few days ago. With the prompt attention of Trent, Branson, and Elayne, her wing had healed up with her daily stone sleep, but she wanted to ensure that she had fully recovered.
She thought back three nights, when she had awakened after the raid...
A chorus of bone chilling cries filled the air. Shards of stony shell flew with incredible force in all directions as the four Gargoyles awakened to the night.
Branson turned to examine Jamie, having perched himself next to her the previous night. Her wing was held at awkward angle by the makeshift truss, but she appeared to be in much less pain than before.
He pulled it loose with gentle tugs, and Trent stood by in case further medical attention was needed. Smooth cobalt skin greeted him as he pulled it loose. He grimaced as he revealed the thin ribs, which had reformed, but were covered in a thin layer of scar tissue from the immense trauma they had suffered.
As he released the wing, Jamie twitched it experimentally, gingerly testing its strength and flexibility. It responded to her urgings smoothly, but felt somehow weaker.
Drawing it around her, she stared at its surface, a haunted look crossing her eyes at the memory of the past night's crash-landing. She swallowed hard, and looked at Branson and Trent, her eyes wide. "I don't know how you did it. I can't understand why I'm not a cripple. You all did a terrific job. Thank you!"
Elayne walked up quietly behind her, throwing her arms and wings around the larger woman. "Just one of the perks, girl."
Running a nimble finger along the other woman's azure wing, she traced one of the new lines of scarring, and frowned. "Your body had to do a quick'n'dirty job, looks like. You'll be carrying these for an awful long time."
After Elayne released her, Jamie looked around for Shang. The kitsune leaned against the tower wall, watching them closely. Rising, she walked over to him, kneeling in front of him. "Shang, are you alright? I'm so sorry if I hurt you last night."
He shook his head, replying, "Thank you for your concern, Jamie. I am fine."
She felt a presence and spun, rising quickly. A shimmering had appeared in the air, beginning to coalesce into Kee's familiar form. His resonant voice sounded, filling her mind and her ears in an unearthly echo. "Be thou unconcerned, milady. I yet stand amongst the animate."
Her gaze took in his form, ragged holes punched through his manifested body, his leather garments torn into strips soaked with iridescent fluid. He seemed somehow insubstantial, a specter of shadow and moonlight. Still, he stood proudly before her, his furred face appearing unconcerned by the wounds.
Tears welled in Jamie's eyes, blurring her vision. "Kee, what happened to you? You look terrible!"
He smiled bravely at her, saying, "'Tis only a flesh wound, milady. Foul spirits assaulted me as I watched over your foray."
Jamie's eyes widened, and she gasped, "But... you've always said you would never fight!"
He held up a scolding finger. "I said I would not fight for you. It is not my will that makes this so, I'm afraid. However, when there is a threat to my own personage, that is another matter altogether."
He winced as his manifested form rippled. "Alas, I must take my leave. I will need all my energies to reform myself."
He began to fade, but Jamie called to him. "Wait! Take what you can from me. I don't even know how to use it yet. Take it, I beg of you!"
Staring into her eyes, he judged her soul. Nodding, he took her outstretched hands, silently, and began to pull the energy from her body. The last time, Jamie had felt a little drowsy during the process, but this time, Kee took her at her word, leaving not the faintest glimmer of mana remaining in her body, and she nearly passed out.
She felt, more than heard, his gratitude as he retired to the spirit world, not wanting to waste any of the precious gift he had been given.
When she shook herself from the trance, she saw Branson standing over her, and realized she'd fallen to the floor after Kee had released her. He held out his hand in eerie mirror of the gesture she'd just made. Clasping it, she accepted his aid, pulling herself to her talons.
Feeling that something had changed, she glanced down. Her pale, gauzy shirt hung loosely over her chest. Trent whistled, causing her to flush, holding it closely for modesty. "Can't say I recall the last time I saw you, or Jessica, that flat."
Jamie and Elayne both growled at him for the comment, but he just grinned at them. Not that her newly reduced bosom would be considered small by any human standards, but she was at most half the size she'd been when she'd woken up this morning. Placing a hand against her face, she found that it was more gaunt than before, as though she were undernourished.
Branson wrapped his arm around her waist. "That was a very generous thing you just did, Jamie. I'm proud of you, you know that? Now, your body thinks it just ran a marathon. We've got to get you back up to snuff. C'mon, guys. I think this calls for a feast!"
----Chapter II----
Givens Castle
7:12 P.M.
It was hard to admit it to herself, but she was utterly terrified that she might not be able to fly again. She assumed she was pushing herself harder than she ought to, but felt that she had no other choice.
Straining, she continued lifting the four hundred-pound weight, feeling her whole side shifting with the load. If she hadn't lost count, this was her one hundred and forty-third rep. She certain felt tired from her exertion, but no more so than after one of her training sessions with Trent.
Mumbling, she counted off quietly, "One hundred forty-four... one hundred forty-five..."
She ceased her work at one-forty seven, sensing another's presence. Turning her head, she saw Elayne leaning against the concrete wall. "What do ya think you're doin', girl?"
Sighing, Jamie set the weight down, rubbing her shoulder. "Well, I'm trying to strengthen my wing. What does it look like?"
Elayne strolled over and looked at the dumbbell, whistling in surprise. "Four hundred? You trying to kill
yourself? You're not indestructible, y'know. You drop that thing, you'll be back where you started. Look, you can wear yourself out all you want, that's your own business. But you need a spotter, and that's final."
Kneeling next to the larger woman, Elayne motioned her to lie down again, holding the massive weight in both hands. Grateful for the assistance, Jamie grasped it and began lifting again.
With her assistance, Jamie pushed herself even further. Finally, Elayne whistled sharply, grabbing the weight. "Okay, okay, that's plenty for one night. You're gonna tear something, you keep this up. I can't blame you for trying to get your strength back, but this takes time."
Grinning, she racked the weight and spoke over her shoulder, "But not as long as ya'd expect, and that's somethin' in your favor."
Jamie jumped to her feet and stretched, her claws nearly reaching the ceiling. Muscles rippled underneath the tight black ultralastic as she flexed, spreading her wings widely. Elayne watched, nodding approvingly. "Lookin' good, Jamie. Keep this up, you'll be better than new in days."
She stepped close, patting the azure-skinned woman on the shoulder in reassurance. "Just make sure to let someone know tomorrow, when you're gonna do this, alright?"
Thanking Elayne for her assistance, Jamie put everything back as she'd found it, leaving for the showers.
She wasn't the first one to have had that idea, it seemed, as she heard singing along with the sound of running water. She hesitated for a moment before entering, but figured, when in Rome...
Branson failed to hear her enter or strip down, and she listened for a moment before entering. He sang in a slow, sad tone. "You know it's you, Babe/Whenever I get weary and I've had enough/Feel like giving up/You know it's you, Babe/Giving me the courage and the strength I need/Please believe that it's true/Babe, I love you..."
He trailed off, choking back a sob. Jamie called to him, asking if she was disturbing him.
He turned to her and held his arm out, beckoning her silently.
She took a good, long look at him as she entered and began to wash herself, watching the corded muscle twisting under his pale skin as he moved. She was surprised when she looked at his manhood, expecting a good-sized endowment from what she had seen before, but not two of them.
His two thick members lay above a fat, well-filled sack. He lacked the length that Trent possessed, but made up for it in girth.
Noticing her confusion, he followed her eyes, looked down, and smiled. "Remember what I said about the variability of our race?"
Jamie shook her head and replied, "Yeah, but... what do you do with two, anyway?"
Grinning, he answered, "You would be amazed, Jamie."
She drew closer and placed a claw on his slender chest, but pulled it back as he groaned, stepping back from her. "Please, ahh, don't do that."
She saw that she had laid her claw against a livid bruise that spread across much of his torso. "What happened to you?"
He closed his eyes, hung his head, and turned from her, letting the force of the hot water pound against his chest. "I've been running simulations of the raid, trying to figure out what went wrong. There's no way a simple raid like that should have had half my team come back wounded."
She walked over to him, gently placing a thick arm around his waist. He leaned against her comforting bulk, favoring his side. He spoke quietly, grimly, just over the rush of the water. "I couldn't bear to lose anyone else... not so soon after my Jessica left this world. And not you, Jamie. To lose you... that would be more than I could take."
For several minutes, she held him closely, her smooth skin pressed against his, reassuring him with the heat of her body, not speaking. She hummed softly in her throat, a deep rumble almost below the range of hearing, not even sure why, but it seemed to calm Branson.
He pulled loose of her embrace, bowing his head to her in thanks, then carefully began to attend to her wings, washing them with gentle strokes, mindful of the scarring on her left, treating them with special care.
She did the same for him as they spoke of more pleasant matters, Branson explaining the latest developments with the Polaris-related businesses. Jamie listened intently, trying to learn what she could from him, and knowing that the distraction was helping his frame of mind.
After drying off and dressing, she gave Branson a final hug, then returned to her room. She hadn't realized how worried Branson was about her injury, and resolved to learn how to form a proper shield as soon as possible. She wasn't certain if Kee had recovered enough to help her, but she decided to try, even if he was still resting.
Shang was working on her system when she entered, writing notes on a sheet of heavy, grained paper in Japanese with one hand as he surfed with the other. She walked in quietly, trying not to disturb the kitsune in his work.
She thumbed the lock on the concealed library, the covering wall panel sliding open silently. Cautiously, she scanned the titles of the tomes, trying to determine the best one to start with. Shrugging, she decided to take up the Livre once more, since it seemed like the most defensively oriented one in the collection. On a whim, she also took the book, "Protective Warding I", figuring that the Castle's wards must be nearly lapsed.
She also took a pouch of powdered chalk from the closet, the tome of Warding having suggested that as a useful material for temporary barriers.
With a wish of good luck from Shang, she moved to the roof. It somehow felt right to work her magic surrounded by the chill air, the night stars watching over her. She also figured that if something were to go wrong, it would be least likely to harm anyone else out here.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, holding the breath, then exhaled, calming herself. She began to hum, calling to mind the haunting melody that was Kee's calling card. To her relief, she felt a charge begin to collect in the cool air, and saw a shimmering of colors as the spirit began to manifest in this world.
She sighed as he turned to her, taking in his appearance, which was much improved over the last time she had seen him. He nodded to her, speaking in a pleasant, sonorous tone. "You have summoned me, Lady Jamie?"
She rushed over, clasping his hand in her own. "It's so good to see you unharmed. I didn't want to call
you, I wasn't sure if you were whole yet, but I didn't feel that I had much of a choice. I need your help, Kee."
He laid his other hand on her shoulder, a smile on his face. "I am whole and well, milady. Your Gift aided tremendously, I would have been much longer in my recovery had it not been for you. I am in your debt once again."
He released her and pulled the long wooden flute from under his tunic. "Anything within my power, it is yours for the asking."
She hefted the Livre Blanc de Magie, threw open the cover, and held it by the spine in her left claw. "Branson is working himself into an early grave, trying to figure out what went wrong on the raid. I won't deny that it could have gone better, but I feel that it's partially my fault. I don't know how to defend myself, Kee, and I need you to teach me."
He nodded, but lowered the flute. "Unless I am quite mistaken, milady, there is preparation you must attend to before I can aid you in this matter. You asked that I take all the mana you possessed, three nights hence. I did as you demanded, but it appears you have not taken the time to recover your energies since then."
She closed the book with a thump, but looked at him, confused. "I would have, but I don't know how. It seems to be assumed in all of these books that the practitioner would know how."
He gestured towards the floor with the flute, and sat cross-legged upon it. "That is because Human tradition holds that a magus should study with a master of the Art before practicing on his own. You lack this resource, and so your education will be all the more difficult."
Smiling to her, he gestured expansively around them. "It shall slow your progress, but it shall not halt it. Trust in me, milady."
She sat before him, folding her limber legs into a Lotus position. He gestured to the air between them, a small spectral hawk materializing. It began to sing in a high, droning voice, and Kee spoke in an odd voice, his inflection rising and falling with the melody. He guided her into a trance, and she opened herself to the energies permeating the world around her. She gasped as she felt a faint tickling against her delicate nipples.
Not even sure of what she was doing, she stretched out with a sense she never known she possessed. She felt the roof around her, and was nearly blinded by Kee's glowing presence. He shone like a beacon to her expanded senses, the light of his essence blazing like purest flame.
She could not sense her own essence, but she felt a faint shadow of her body in this strange unsight. She watched herself, as though from the perspective of another, breathing in and out with the rhythm of the unearthly melody, and saw thin, translucent lines of Power arcing into her bosom.
Time seemed to waver and flicker like a torch's flame as she lost herself in the trance. It seemed natural to her, as natural as breathing, despite having just learned of it. Her body felt much as it had when Kee had torn the energy from her, but reversed. She felt awakened in a way she had never experienced before, energized by the flow of mana.
After a time, Kee ceased his monologue, dismissing the hawk, plunging the rooftop into silence once more. "Awaken, milady. That should be sufficient for the task at hand, and we have lost time enough as it is."
Jamie opened her eyes, the brown of her irises shining in the moon's light, reflecting the waxing globe. She sensed the energy flowing through her veins, collecting in her breasts. They pushed out against the black ultralastic fabric of her sweatshirt, stretching the neckline further down her cobalt swells.
She estimated a gain of two and a half inches, a paltry reserve in comparison to what she had carried a few days before, but she trusted Kee's judgement.
She noted that he did not appear faded as he had during her first lesson, and questioned, "How long was I within the trance? And, how is it that you still look healthy? Not that I object, of course."
He gestured with the flute, replying, "It has been nearly three hours, milady. It takes time to build up a flow of energy, I'm afraid, and you have little enough of that to spare. I took the liberty of drawing off a small portion of the flow to recharge my own energies, but the majority of the mana you raised is now sequestered within your body."
He pointed towards the tome and said, "Take up your focus. Magic is composed of four parts: the energy, the conduit, the will, and the word."
He drew a flowing sigil in the air with the tip of his flute and began to explain. "As action in the physical domain requires the expenditure of energy, giving form to the formless with magic requires energy. Some of this must come from the wielder, synchronizing their spirit to the essence of the spell."
He drew another symbol, one suggesting a tunnel. "Much of the energy of the spell will be drawn from the spiritual domain, but a barrier of sorts normally prevents the two domains from mixing. Some conduit must exist to allow the energy to condense into this domain. Many magi conceal their conduits within their spellbooks. Jessica wove magical metals into some of her clothing, such as the leggings you favor. I see you are wearing no such metals now, and so the success of your magic will require contact with the tome."
He formed a third emblem, lines drawing together into a central point. "For reasons that even I do not know, the races of Man and Gargoyle have a great degree of trouble working with the arcane forces. It takes a strong mind and a focused will to harness them."
He inscribed a final design in the air, the letters a, fehu, and heth worked into a single form. "Once mana has condensed into this domain, it must be given form, lest the effect become uncontrollable. There are many ways to do this, though the most common involves the use of mystical words and gestures, as you already know. There are other means of control, however. Perhaps you will find yourself favoring one of them, in time."
Jamie nodded, thanking Kee for the explanation, and flipped open the book to one of the shielding spells. "Given what I ran into last time, I think this one may help?"
She turned the book, allow Kee to read the spell in question. He nodded, agreeing. "This would be a good choice indeed, though I would suggest you adjust one of the terms in actual use. I believe that a supersonic bullet would not be impeded by the spell as written. Shields are very specific, and this one is geared for arrows."
He began to raise the flute to his lips, but hesitated. He suggested, "Perhaps you ought to attempt the spell yourself. As you have seen, I cannot always come to your aid, and while it is my pleasure to assist you, you must be able to work at least the basics by yourself."
She nodded, sensing the wisdom in this, and raised the book, gripping it tightly in her claw. Breathing deeply and evenly, she tried to recall the way she had touched her energy for the Light spell.
Concentrating, she began inscribing the symbols of the spell in the air, adjusting it as Kee had suggested, and spoke in a commanding tone, "Conicio tergum glandes quod telum est improbus sors!"
She felt the hair on the back of her neck rise, but could see no effect from the spell. She began drawing the symbols again, but Kee halted her. "Try to use your true sense, milady. I believe that you may be surprised by what you perceive."
It took a good deal of effort, but she continued feeding a trickle of energy into the spell while shifting her senses. She was surprised to see a faint rippling in the shadows around her body, distorting Kee's smiling form. It looked like a soap bubble formed of turbulent air. She gasped, "Did I do it? Did it actually work?"
He nodded. "It is not very strong, but the barrier stands. A stronger shield would be faintly visible, even in the physical domain. I would say that you have the feel of it, but you will require more practice to achieve a useful strength."
She examined the shield, probing it with her astral senses, feeling the flow of the energy. After examining it for a few minutes, she thought that she had an idea of how the gestures and words related to the shield's flowing form.
Dismissing the shield, she took a moment to calm herself again, and began the process of forming it again. In a way, it wasn't so different from the weight lifting she had been doing earlier that evening. Instead of working her physical muscles, she worked her mind and spirit, but it still entailed repetition of the labor and pushing herself to do more.
#13, 720 W. Fillmore St.
10:32 P.M.
I sprawled out in a paisley recliner, a rescue from Goodwill, and picked up one of the books I'd gotten from the library. You'd be surprised how much a good detective can pick up from such prosaic sources.
I wasn't overly shocked that there'd be reference books out on the gargoyles. I mean, they have been in the news for thirty years. Plenty of time to knock together a few theses on the subject, certainly.
A professor at Columbia University, by the name of Lennox Macduff, wrote the first one I looked at. The picture on the back showed a broad-shouldered, cheerful looking Scotsman, wearing the classic tweed jacket and holding a pipe.
He looked elderly, but the wry grin on his face led me to believe that he still had a few good years left in him.
It seemed that he had been studying the gargoyle myths for many years, even before they'd been revealed to the public. His book referred more to ancient myth than modern fact. However, I know that a great many myths hold more truth than a layman might suspect, and I trusted Macduff's writings more than those of many of his fellows.
It seemed that I would need to approach them by night, for the books claimed that they slept during the day, transforming themselves into statues, indistinguishable from those made by human hands.
Many of the books concurred with the news reports I had seen, implying that they were animals that had come to the cities due to a shrinking natural habitat. Some of them even suggested that they were brutal savages that relished pain and suffering, and more than one priest claimed they were demons sent from the bowels of Hell to herald Judgment Day.
For myself, I tended to agree more with Macduff's description of them as noble defenders, protecting the defenseless by night. He claimed that several exquisitely detailed gargoyle statues that he had seen in his travels were portraits, created by artisans amongst the race.
The idea that they were mere savages didn't mesh what I had seen from Yutani's video. I had the feeling that at least one amongst their number was a craftsman, and even if I was wrong, someone with serious dough was supplying them. The big girl used a particle weapon of some sort, and that's not something you tend to see outside the military.
Then there was the other female. I didn't think that those bulges in her jumpsuit were all from looting. She was my bet for the craftsman, since some of those bulges looked like tools to me. The wolf-like male used his sword like a knight of old, and the slender male handled his pistols far too well for a simple case of 'monkey see, monkey do'.
No, my feeling was that these individuals, anyway, were well accustomed to the modern world. They might not be like us, but I thought they were highly intelligent. And, if I wasn't careful, that could make them highly dangerous, too. I'd have to tread carefully.
It was getting late, and I was beat from my beating. Setting up the sleep-learning disc I'd picked up, not that I thought it would do much good, I folded out the couch and tried to pass out.
Sleep didn't come easily, though. I kept replaying the interview with Yutani in my mind. I hate being lied to, and I was certain that he'd said maybe ten true words in the whole meeting.
I tossed and turned as I turned the situation over in my mind. Frankly, it stunk, and there wasn't much else to be said about it. Still trying to think of any clever way to handle the problem, I finally slipped over the edge into blessed slumber...
Highpoint Residential Community
175 S. Highpoint Drive
11:18 P.M.
Logan wasn't the only one finding it hard to sleep that night. Across town, Dr. Yutani sat hunched over his desk. Sweat poured down his forehead as he tried to handle the overflowing paperwork, a half-empty bottle of whiskey off to the side, but his thoughts kept turning back toward the ominous phone call, two days ago...
He picked up the phone, speaking in a pleasant tone of voice, belying his frustration. "Dr. Yutani speaking, how may I help you?"
An unfamiliar voice replied, his voice raspy and gravely. "I understand you had a... vermin infestation two days ago? There was some damage to the building?"
Yutani spoke quietly. "Who are you? I don't recall calling an exterminator."
The other voice commented firmly, "You misunderstand me, John. I'm no exterminator. I just wanted to advise you against doing anything too... rash."
Yutani narrowed his eyes, turning to the wall in an effort to prevent eavesdropping. "I don't take kindly to your tone of voice, sir. And, it is considered polite to introduce oneself before discussing business, is it not?"
A chuckle came from the other side of the line. "You don't need to know who I am. But my warning comes from the highest echelons, Yutani. My Department has an interest in your... intruders. This is out of your jurisdiction. I suggest you repair the damage and forget this ever happened. That would be best for everyone involved."
Yutani hesitated before answering. "I will call the police to investigate this incident if you do not tell me whose authority you have. I don't take kindly to threats, sir."
The other man sighed, then said. "My name is Secretary Adam Henrikson. Perhaps that rings a bell?"
Yutani nearly dropped the phone as the name registered. "You're... you're with Homeland Security? What do you want with my company?"
Henrikson replied calmly, "Very little, honestly. I just don't want Gen-U-Tech going to the police and getting in the way of our investigation. My aide, Gary Penn, will be in touch with you when we've learned more."
Speaking more forcefully, Henrikson reiterated, "Stay out of this. Keep the local police out of it. Face it, they already made a mockery of your security. Leave this to the professionals, all right?"
Yutani began shaking as he replied, "Uhh, yes, sir. If there's anything I can do..."
Henrikson cut him off, saying, "All you can do is stay the hell away. Good day, Dr. Yutani."
Henrikson had never said anything about engaging a private eye, though, or so Yutani kept telling himself. And, it wasn't like he was using Gen-U-Tech money to do it, either, this came out of his own pocket. Surely, he couldn't object to that.
He hadn't received any further communications from Henrikson or Penn, but he still had this terrible feeling that they were watching him.
And then, there was the private eye himself. Yutani wasn't sure why, but he felt that this Starr had seen through his clumsy attempts at misdirection easily. Of course, he probably wouldn't be much of a detective if he couldn't have done that... but it still worried him.
One thing was true, though. He didn't want the gargoyles harmed. Such magnificent specimens! Yutani started breathing hard just thinking of what he could do with such potent resources at his disposal. There was the Class IV-B Shapeshifter to consider, too. His superiors would not be pleased if that one got away.
Perhaps the detective would make a useful test subject for the Mutate serum after this case was finished.
----Chapter III----
Near Givens Castle
November 14th, 2027
1:27 P.M.
It was time. A bit of research, some palm grease, and some good old-fashioned legwork, that's what a case like this needed. When I started putting everything together, the solution was, in the words of the great Master, elementary. Turned out there'd been reports of these critters in some of the tabloids for a while now. I started plotting the sightings, and it didn't take long to narrow the majority of them down to the southwest side of town.
The Polaris tip-off was a waste of time, though. I searched pretty deeply, and couldn't find any Chicago business that they were involved with. Maybe if I ever head to the Bahamas, but for this case, it was a red herring.
I also spoke with a local newshound, a Nate Lloyd, who wrote a column on the explainable for the Tribune. My intuition told me that if anyone would know about these critters, he would. It took some work to convince him that I was safe to squawk to, but I pulled out my winningest smile, and a chunk of green, and we hit it off fine.
He wouldn't give me a solid location, but I got a lead off him, to check with the gangs in the area. Not my usual crowd, sure, but a man's gotta do.
I had to bust a few heads before the boss of the Beverly Boys would deign to speak with lil' old me, but I had my audience. Sitting atop his rusted "throne", the Boy who Would Be King filled in the gaps in my research.
And here I stood, watching Givens Castle. I figured I was pretty safe, since there were still several hours to go before dusk. If I needed to, I could probably climb to the roof and hide out there, but I didn't think that would be such a good idea.
I'd gotten the impression that these Gargoyles liked their privacy, and just barging in like that... Seemed like a good way to get on their bad side. At the very least, it'd shatter what little credibility I had.
The thought of trying to contact the human that seemed to be staying with them crossed my mind, but I dismissed it. I didn't care too much for Dr. Yutani, but the fact of the matter was that they had broken into his building and wrecked untold havoc.
Though... maybe there was more to this story than I'd been told. Still, my instincts told me to hold off until nightfall. I patted at my side, feeling the reassuring weight of my revolver in its shoulder holster. Yeah, yeah, I know. I should have a real weapon, not some museum piece.
But, I liked my revolver. It suited me, and besides, if you need more than six shots at a go, you're probably in too deep of trouble for anything more to make much of a difference.
I reflected on the fact that I usually needed more than six shots as I continued my vigil.
If I used my binoculars, I could easily make out the so-called statues on the roof. It really was a brilliant way of hiding in plain sight. Anyone who didn't know their true nature, like I did, would think they were just ordinary sculptures.
They weren't the only ones that could hide in plain sight, though. I pulled a camera and tripod out of my backpack, set them up, and then pulled out a thick, black notebook. I'd used this cover several times before. I'm honestly not even sure what people take me for, but I guess I come off as some sort of assessor, or maybe a reporter. Either way, not someone most people would want to get too close to.
I took an extensive series of photos of the Castle, as well as several of the other homes in the area. During my stakeout, I also caught sight of the human a couple of times. He did a pretty good job of keeping out of sight, I'll say that, but I was watching.
I got some odd looks from the folks passing through, but I'm used to that. While I staked out the Castle, I started reviewing my plans. Yutani's whole theory hinged on the assumption that these gargoyles were unintelligent animals. I didn't want to confront the man, yet, but I wanted to find out what had happened that night from the gargoyles' perspective.
Once I knew that, I'd decide what to do about the situation. In a way, I hoped that I was wrong. I really needed the dough, and I'd be honor-bound to give it back if I abandoned Yutani.
At least it was a full moon tonight. That's always been something of a good luck charm for me, and I had a feeling that I could use all the luck I could get.
A stray thought crossed my mind, and I pulled another good luck charm out of my pocket. It was a hawk bone, suspended on a leather thong. It might sound a little silly, but I'd gotten the hang of using it as a sort of dowsing rod, and even closed a couple of cases with it. I figure, if it worked, might as well take advantage of it.
Concentrating on the image of Yutani, I released the bone, letting it spin freely. It bobbed about, then angled sharply towards the southeast, actually pointing upwards in a stark dismissal of gravity. I grinned. I'd checked out his 'shop', and knew that the charm was pointing directly at him. I'd just wanted to make sure he wasn't trying to shadow me.
He'd get the information when I was good and ready to give it to him.
I checked my watch, noting that the sun was making its plunge toward the horizon. I figured I had maybe an hour until they would wake up, and I intended to spend that time well.
Disassembling the camera set-up, I moved to a park near the Castle, and pulled some sandwiches and granola bars out of my pack, opening my copy of Macduff's "Stone By Day". I'd given the library its copy back, figuring this was one I ought to keep in my collection.
This wasn't the first time I'd had to make due with rations while on a case. You get used to it after a while. My hunger sated, if not my taste buds, I headed back toward the Castle.
This was where it was going to get tricky. I want to get the gargoyles alone, at least one of them, before meeting their human companion, if there was any way I could do it. At the same time, I hoped to survive the night, even if it meant giving de Silva a shot at me. In the final tally, I was probably going to get worked over either way, but that wasn't going to stop me.
I thought for quite some time on how best to do the job, and an absurd motion caught my mind. Why not just walk in the front door? It had the advantage of simplicity, after all. And I'd guessed the human wasn't much of a fighter, from what I'd seen in the surveillance video. If I tripped an alarm, I might just be able to talk with the gargoyles undisturbed for a little while.
Assuming they didn't murder me on the spot. Damn those picky little details.
My muse seemed to have gone on vacation, perhaps off to the Bahamas to check out Polaris Holdings, leaving me to fend for myself. I tried desperately to think of any other plan, anything to increase my chances of surviving the rapidly approaching night, but nothing came to my mind.
I could always call it off, I supposed. After all, Yutani had said that all he wanted was to find out where they lived, and I could give him that easily enough. But, did I trust him that far?
Not on your life. I needed to get the whole truth before I could bring myself to collect my twenty pieces of silver. This whole situation would have been so much easier if I'd been a bit more... ethically flexible, but I guess that's not part of my nature.
It probably didn't help that my ancestors have been hunted, either. I felt a certain kinship to these winged folk. I've been the prey before, and it ain't pretty.
The sun began to dip beneath the horizon, and I strained my ears to listen for any sign that my targets were awake. I wanted to give them a few minutes to wake up before breaking in. Maybe they're different, but I'm no good when I first wake up.
I hid along the stone wall near the entrance, and my vigilance was rewarded as soon as the roof plunged into darkness. Loud, eerie shouts filled the air, hurting my ears a little, and I heard an odd tinkling sound. Shrugging, I glanced at my watch. I'd give them five minutes to wake up.
Tapping my foot lightly against the step, I waited, then threw the door open. Immediately, an alarm began blaring. My instinct was to drop into a crouch and pull my weapon, and my vision started to blur into a red haze as adrenaline flooded through my body, but I fought it down. That would be a sure way to get myself killed.
I strode into the middle of the room, holding my arms wide. I heard faint footsteps from above, and shouted, "I'm alone! I need to speak with your leader!"
A familiar voice, tinged with an Oriental accent, called from the balcony. "Who are you, Garou?"
I looked around, doing a double take, and stared at him. So much for my plan. Something about him... A faint scent reached my nose, and I inhaled deeply. That explained so much. Something about him smelled, for lack of a better term, a little off, but I felt that I could trust him. I nodded to him, and answered, "I'm Logan Starr, brother. You're a long way from home, eh?"
The other Were stood from his crouch, aiming his rather unpleasant-looking rifle at the ceiling. "I'm never far from home, brother. All of Gaia is my home."
The green-skinned gargoyle called out, also standing on the balcony, "I'm not particularly interested in who you are. Hand over your weapons, and we'll talk!"
Figuring that it was better than getting smeared across the floor, I reached for my revolver, slowly, and drew my baton with the other hand, chucking them into the corner.
I jumped as two of the others materialized from the darkness behind me. The wolfish male stalked past me, taking me in with a look, and grabbed my weapons. I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder, turned, and stared, jaw hanging open.
A vision of Aphrodite stood before me. Of course, I'd seen the azure-skinned woman on the tape, but she was far more alluring in person. I'd figured she was huge... what I hadn't counted on was being eye-level with the lower curves of her tits.
I must have been quite a sight, leering at her with my mouth wide open. I felt as though the words, "SYSTEM FAILURE. PLEASE STRIKE ANY KEY TO CONTINUE." were printed on my eyes, and she must have, too, 'cuz that's exactly what she did.
When I woke up, about twenty minutes later, I felt as though a troupe of hippopotamus ballerinas had been cavorting through my head. My cheek was burning red, the shape of her massive hand indelibly imprinted on it.
Aphrodite was nowhere to be found, but the Were stood over me, watching. He asked, "What brings you here?"
I winced, my ears a little over-sensitive from the near-concussion, and motioned the green-skinned male down from the balcony. "Please, I don't wanna shout."
When he arrived, I explained, "Well, you guys did, really. You raised one hell of a fuss last week."
The slim Were snarled and replied, "G-U-T had it coming."
I held my hands in front of me, speaking in a placating tone. "I dunno about that. Dr. Yutani seemed awfully distraught. He hired me to find you all. Don't worry, I haven't told him yet. I wanted to hear your side of the story, first."
I looked around, still feeling a little woozy. "Is there some where we can sit? I'm betting this'll take a little while."
The leader shrugged and said, "Might as well. No sense not being civilized about this."
He led me to the second story, introducing the "Clan" to me as we walked. I held my cheek with one hand, feeling how small my hand was in comparison to this Jamie's. She was bigger than, me, too. That just figured.
The clan assembled around the table in the "family room", taking seats in some order that I couldn't figure out. I took the seat farthest from the door and propped my feet up on the table. I've learned that if you act like you own the place, people tend to give you a little more respect.
Branson sat across from me, at the head of the table, watching me wearily. Jamie sat to his right, and I got the feeling she was more sympathetic towards me, even if I'd acted like a letch before. Elayne and Trent sat in the middle, and Shang sat near me.
I still hadn't figured out what he was. I knew he wasn't Garou, something almost, but not quite, entirely unlike us, but I wasn't sure just what.
I began to explain, feeling an awful lot like I was on trial. "Okay, it's like this. Dr. Yutani came to me, asking
me to track you down."
I looked around the table, meeting the gaze of each member of my personal jury. "He thinks you're savages, just barely intelligent, and that you're being hoodwinked by Shang here. I saw your raid. The tape he showed me made me disagree, which is why I came to you, first."
I swallowed, hard, and finished my story. This was probably my moment of truth. "He... uhh... wanted to free you gargoyles from your 'cruel slavery' to the 'human'. No offense, bro."
Shang narrowed his eyes as he asked, "Slavery to the 'human'?"
I raised my hands in protest. "Hey, hey, his story, not mine. I saw the way Jamie here was watching over you; that didn't look like a master-servant situation to me."
More at ease, the Chinaman replied, "No, it was more of a body guard, meek little guy relationship."
I grinned at him, chuckling as I answered, "So ka. Okay, it looks like we're not disputing that you attacked his company. Now, what I want to know is why. I'm willing to drop Yutani's case, but I've got to get a damn good reason."
Branson and the others remained silent. I guess they figured he was the key to this whole mess, and wanted to let him say his piece. "Well, it was G-U-T's troopers who chased me over here. We found a transmitter hooked up to the house security system and figured that it was broadcasting back to those G-U-Tless bastards."
I pulled the notebook from my pack and began jotting notes, not looking up as I commented, "G-U-T provoked the attack, that's very good. Why were they chasing you, Shang?"
Leaning back in his chair, looking ill at ease, he replied, "Beats the hell out of me. They didn't do much in the way of: 'Hi, were from your local friendly neighborhood Gen-U-Tech office and we would like to speak with you.' crap."
Figuring this was as good a time as any, Branson reached into his pocket, pulling out his portable, and slid it and a pair of display glasses across the table to me. "I dug up some interesting data on them. Take a look for yourself."
I slipped them on, scanning through the brief. I sucked in a breath, feeling like I'd been sucker punched, as I read an important part. "They're with fraggin' Pentex? That changes things!"
I looked up at Shang, nearly tearing off the glasses, and probably looked a bit pale. "Did you know that?"
He snarled at me, understandably, looking nearly as inhuman as his companions. "Yes. They are of the Wyrm. Good enough reason for you to drop that case, Logan?"
I sighed, and took a moment to fight down my emotions. "Now I'm sorry I wasn't along with you. Shang, you got lucky as all hell, finding friends like these. G-U-T probably found out you were a Moon Child, somehow."
Shaking my head, little winged dollar signs danced in my mind, chanting, "Free! We're freeee!", I added, "Yeah... I've got to drop it, now. Funny thing, though, I don't think Yutani is aware of who he's working for. I didn't sense anything off him."
Shang nodded, grinning. "Ignorance is bliss."
I took a deep breath, and stared into their eyes again, gauging each person in turn. "I have no choice but to help you... but I hope you know what this is gonna to cost me. I'm gonna lose my office if I don't pay up in four days."
Branson shrugged, a faint grin on his face. "I'll pay you double what Yutani was offering if you help throw him off our trail."
I pondered that for a moment, thinking of what that would do for my precarious finances, as Jamie spoke up. "Shang, do you think Logan could help you out?"
Shang looked at her guardedly, and asked, "With?"
She elaborated, gesturing for emphasis. "The search you've been working on. Looking for your family."
I piped up, my avaricious side showing, "Missing persons are a specialty, ma'am!"
Shang nodded, explaining to me, "Well, they aren't missing per say, just hiding real well."
I shrugged, showing him my pearly whites, and said, "Well, you guys were hidden pretty well, too. If there's anything I can do, I'm yours. I could use the business."
He gave me a funky bow, not rising from his seat, and said, "If I need your help I'll let you know."
I reached across the table to him, extending my hand. He stared at me for a moment, but hesitantly clasped it in his. I relished the look on his face as he discovered my card, feeling a little like the cat that'd swallowed the canary. Elayne stifled a chuckle at my sleight-of-hand, and I flashed a smile at her, my no. 6 "For use in melting a woman's heart" smirk.
Shang gave me a dirty look, but tucked it away. A small victory, but I'll take it.
I looked towards Branson and asked, "Can we have a moment to talk, alone? I need to ask my bro something, private like."
They got up to give us the room, but Branson called back, "If he tries anything antisocial, we'll be right outside the door."
I leaned over the table and started questioning Shang quietly. No telling how well they could hear, and I wasn't going to be the one to Lift the Veil. "I know my Garou, Shang. And you ain't one of them. Mind telling me who you are, before I call up de Silva?"
He replied calmly, unperturbed at the Sept-leader's name. I had to give him credit, that took some major balls... unless he didn't know who de Silva was. "There is no need to call Eckhart. I am one of your cousins from the East."
I thought about that for a moment That'd explain the odd scent, certainly, and the accent. "Hmm... Well, all right. Just can't say that I've met any of you before. You see my dilemma, right?"
He nodded, saying, "Your concern is understandable."
I looked at him, relying on my instincts once more. "What Jamie said... you're looking for your Kinfolk, right? I don't know if any of my sept can help, but I might know some folks that could. Anything I can do for you, just give me a ring."
He thanked me, and I replied while rising, "Hey, don't sweat it. It's what I do."
Walking me to the door, he answered, "If you ever need my aid, you know where I am, for now."
Trent stood right outside the door, sword drawn, looking rather surprised when we both walked out unharmed. I flashed a grin and said, "Hey, easy there. I just wanted to ask my bro how things were going on the other side of the Pond."
Trent narrowed his eyes at the two of us, but sheathed his sword, commenting, "Fantastic. You need any more time for that male-bonding stuff, do it when we're asleep, yeah?"
Shang took a moment to excuse himself, and I looked around at the gargoyles. They had a really interesting scent, this close. I'd never experienced anything like it before. It had a certain aroma like fresh clay or newly exposed stone, naturally, but there was a bit of a musky tone, slightly acrid, that was uniquely theirs.
Not that it's exactly a smell, there's something of the spirit to it as well, but that's about the best way I can describe it.
I told them, "Look, you don't have to worry about me. I knew there was something funky about Yutani when I first met him. I'm not gonna turn on you... I know a little bit of what your position is like."
Folding my arms in front of me, I added, "And no friend of Pentex will ever be a friend of mine. You have my word on that."
Reaching into my coat pocket, I pulled out the flash drive with the security tapes, handing it to Branson as a show of good faith. "I think you can make better use of this than I can. Please, take it as a gift."
Jamie began to speak, but Branson laid a hand on her arm, nodding. "I know, Jamie, I know. I learned my lesson last time. Logan, I meant what I said about your paycheck. I'm a man of my word, as well, and I am not without means. Just tell Yutani that you tracked us somewhere else, but that we had moved on."
I nodded, having come to much the same conclusion myself. "Yeah, that's no problem. Umm... there is one thing I'd like you to do, if it's not too much to ask."
He raised an eyebrow, motioning me to elaborate. I held a hand behind my head, feeling a little self-conscious. "Well... I like to collect lore, if you know what I mean. I'd love to learn more about your kind."
Branson nodded. "Jamie, would you mind? It might be enlightening... for both of you."
I grinned at her, and she smiled back, saying, "Sure. Why not? Especially when Logan seems to have such an... interest in me. In us, I mean."
Branson and I looked at each other, both a little wide-eyed, and I must confess that I blushed a bit at her statement. He looked a little confused, too.
She took me to the smaller, more intimate sitting room, and we spoke for some time. I found her story quite interesting, not to mention a great sign of trust. I knew that there were places other than Mother Gaia, but her tale was quite a bit beyond my experience.
I felt a bolt of inspiration, no doubt my muse, freshly returned from the Bahamas, and reached into my backpack. I pulled out the thick copy of "Stone By Day", handing it to her. "You might find this interesting. I have no idea how accurate it is, but maybe you ought to track this Macduff down. He might just make a good friend for your clan."
She looked at it, and smiled at the cover. It showed the silhouette of a being as heavily muscled as herself, leaning forward in a crouch, wings thrown out behind it. I'd figured she would leave it on the table, since she didn't seem to have any pockets, but her compromise was not what I would have expected.
My eyes bugged out as she slid the tome into her cleavage, grinning impishly at me. I wasn't sure which surprised me more: her action, or the fact that should could fit a fraggin' textbook in there!
It took me a little while before I found my voice again, much to her delight, and I kept stealing glances at that book when I thought she wasn't watching. The night began to pass all too quickly for my tastes...
Hiding in the shadows outside the castle, the dark-garbed figure of Keller watched. He raised the radio to his lips, and spoke in a near whisper. "Keller to Base. I've sighted their location. It's the old Givens Castle, in Beverly. Requesting backup, over."
Yutani's voice crackled in his earphones, replying, "Negative, Keller. Return to base, your mission is finished. I think we'll keep them under observation, see what they do next."
----The End----