Shades (9 page)

“What are you doing, Danny? You look like you’re having a seizure.”

Incredibly, the creature was still moving. Its burning remains leaped into the air, narrowly missing the ceiling, and landed on the carpet, a headless, twitching abomination. Danny reached out with his mind and caught it, gripping the monster with his will, crushing the wriggling thing in on itself, tearing through its body like termites through soft wood.

His mother called his name again. Gray-green demon blood dripped into her open mouth.

“Danny, what’s wrong with you?”

The demon vanished, obliterated.

“Danny? Answer me. Are you okay?”

He blinked, then raised his head and smiled at her.

“I’m fine, Mom. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Good. You know, sometimes I—”

She trailed off. Her jaw went slack. Her eyes drooped. Slowly, the vodka bottle slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor. The liquid sloshed out onto the gore. His mother slumped over in the chair, unconscious.

“Mom!”

Danny leapt from the sofa and ran to her. Her mouth hung open. She was breathing, but just barely. With one trembling hand, he reached out and shook her. His mother did not respond.

“Mom?”

He squeezed her hand. It was cold.

“Mom, wake up!”

She did not answer, did not move.

Oh no. No no no no no…

His vision blurred. What had he done? He’d wanted to fix things, make them right. But despite all of his confidence and research, he wasn’t a magician. He was just a stupid kid. At that moment, what he wanted more than anything was to be comforted by the nearly lifeless pile of flesh slumped in the chair.

“Mommy?”

Still no answer. Frantic, Danny called for someone else—called out with his mind.

Gustav, come quick. Please come quick. Something’s wrong.

If the old Russian heard him, he did not answer.

Danny had never felt more alone.

789

Outside Danny’s home, the presence hovered without form, without mass. Only its emotions had substance—thoughts, feelings, intelligence. Revenge. It longed to break free, to walk the world once more. Distraught, it felt itself fading, slipping away again. Its anguished cries were inaudible.

Then it was gone.

789

Gustav smiled, waiting for Bedrik’s response. His point had been proven. He’d let the other magus know that he was aware of his presence. Now the challenge would begin. The next move was Bedrik’s. Be it psychic or physical, he wouldn’t attack right away. His opponent was under the mistaken impression that Gustav was actually stronger than he was. Bedrik would be wary of a direct assault. Gustav counted on that. He had to make sure that illusion remained, make sure Bedrik continued believing he was stronger. It was the only way to buy time, and Gustav needed that time to increase Danny’s power.

And even then…

You’re a fool,
Bedrik ranted.
Do you really think I’d breach the circle? If you wish to draw me out and challenge me, you’ll have to do better than this transparent ploy. Really, I’m surprised—and disappointed. After all I’ve heard about you. I’d expect better than this.

Before Gustav could reply, Danny’s summons slammed into his head.

Gustav, come quick. Please come quick. Something’s wrong.

The boy’s voice was panicked, on the verge of tears.

Cursing, Gustav ran into the night.

789

Gustav did not knock. He flung the door open and stepped into the house, out of breath and hair askew. His gaze swept past Danny and lingered on the boy’s mother lying on the couch. He sniffed the air.

“I smell magic, yes?”

Lower lip quivering, Danny nodded.

“Have you moved her?”

Danny flinched at the anger in his mentor’s voice. Gustav had called him ‘boy’ again, rather than ‘Danny’. He fought back tears.

“I…I moved her from the chair to the sofa.”

“Move aside.”

Danny stepped out of the way, barely able to look the man in the eyes.

Gustav dropped down on his knees in front of the couch and checked her pulse and breathing. He lifted up one eyelid and stared. Then he let it drop shut again.

“What did you do, boy?”

“I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I was trying to help her.”

“This is help?”

“It was an accident! You said all I needed was knowledge and power.”

“And you have neither. You’ve learned nothing yet. And power—power should be saved until ready. Not tossed away like…” He nodded at the limp form.

Tears slid down Danny’s cheeks. “Can you help her?”

The old man shook his head.

“Gustav,” Danny begged, “please, can you help her?”

Gustav muttered in Russian and then stood up. “I don’t know. Perhaps.”

“What can I do to help?”

“What can you do? Leave. Get out. That is what you can do. I need silence to concentrate. Go see your friends.”

“I can’t. They’re all mad at me.”

“Then go to my house and read. But do not be here right now.”

“Why?”

“I said leave,” Gustav shouted, waving his hands. “Do not question. Always with the questions, you are. Go. Get out. I can’t concentrate with you dancing around like circus bear. Go away. I call you when I know what we can do.”

Nodding his head, Danny left the house. The night was miserable, dark and windy, threatening to rain. It suited his mood. He didn’t bother getting his bike out of the garage. Filled with restless energy and no way to focus it, Danny walked. The sidewalk beneath his feet was the same, but seemed different than the day before. Everything had changed. He’d lost his friends, and possibly killed his mother. And for what? For magic? To make things better?

Was it so bad, his mom’s drinking?

Yes, it was. It hadn’t been once upon a time, right after his father’s death. But over time, it festered like a wound; the alcohol infected her bloodstream, changing her. She’d been beautiful once, everything a mom was supposed to be. Now, her face was puffy and there were dark circles under her eyes that she hid beneath a layer of makeup when she went to work. At night, she passed out in front of the television, and only got up on time if he woke her.

All he’d wanted was his old mom back, his old life, to be happy. He’d wanted the fucking dirt bike his dad promised him and the Yankees season tickets and dinners out almost every night and for his friends to have a shot at good things, too.

Now he had shit.

Danny’s hands curled into fists. The energy built inside him. He could feel it pushing against his chest and skull. Then the rain came. Thunder boomed. A fat raindrop splattered against his head. Then another. More pelted the sidewalk. The trees rustled as the wind picked up. He looked up from the wet concrete and got his bearings. He was at a crossroads. Six blocks from school, six blocks from where his best friends had decided he was a traitor, and six blocks from the road leading to the Haverstraw Marina—where it had all begun. Six-six-six; Danny still had a lot to learn about numerology, but he knew that was a powerful number.

Then he glanced across the street and smiled without humor.

Giordano’s Happy Bottle Shop.

Neon signs flashed in the window. The cardboard standee of a buxom blonde girl in a miniskirt and t-shirt stood inside the door, advertising the can of beer in her two-dimensional hand. He’d seen the girl before, a beautiful fantasy promising fun and maybe even a chance to lose his virginity if he’d only buy a twelve pack of the brand she offered with an eager smile. He knew the beer well. His mom drank it when she needed something lighter than tequila or vodka.

“Fuck you,” Danny said to the cardboard girl and the window between them. Slowly, he took in the rest of the details of the Giordano’s liquor store. The feverish energy rampaging through his system swelled.

He didn’t think about it, just let it happen. There were two customers inside the store, and Mr. Giordano was behind the counter. Mr. Giordano, the man who was there for his kids, who took his family on vacations every year, and bought them anything they wanted and kept his promises. How much of that had his mother financed? How many times had she taken his cash and left her little I.O.U.s, all so she could afford another bottle?

Fists pressed against his sides, Danny closed his eyes and pushed. Then he opened his eyes again and watched.

The people inside the store disappeared. One moment they were there, and the next—they vanished, blinking out of existence in a single heartbeat. Simultaneously, every bottle inside the building exploded, spewing their contents across the floor and shelves. Shards of glass shredded the smiling cardboard girl. The store window shattered and broken glass rained down on the sidewalk. Danny pushed again and the air inside the building grew hot. The alcoholic fumes saturating the store burst into flame.

The last of the energy drained from him. Danny suddenly felt very tired. He stared at the store, his mouth hanging open. The fire raced through the building.

“Oh shit…”

He turned and quickly walked away, careful not to run and risk attracting attention to himself. It was hard to do. He had to resist the urge to flee. The falling rain increased, quickly soaking his clothing. Thunder boomed again. Behind him, the store exploded. Danny spun around, shielding his eyes with his hand as a massive ball of flame engulfed the store. His ears popped from the pressure. Fiery debris pelted the three cars in the parking lot. A station wagon was thrown into the air, rolling three times before it crashed into a dumpster. Superheated air slammed into him. Danny staggered. He smelled burning hair, and after a moment, realized it was his. The small, fine hairs on his arms were singed.

The sky opened up, and the rain poured hard and fast.

It did nothing to extinguish the inferno burning inside of him.

NINE

Come
home, boy.

Danny wandered the neighborhood until he received the summons, making sure to avoid the liquor store. He didn’t want to be spotted at the scene. Although he was calmer, he felt cored out and hollow. His energies had drained away, and what remained wasn’t enough to let him tie his shoes without getting winded. Despite his fatigue, as soon as Gustav called him, he started running.

The Russian stood in the living room. His expression was grim. The couch was empty.

“Is she all right?” Danny’s knees felt like rubber.

“She will be. I think.” Gustav sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to him. “What you did, Danny…that was dangerous. Stupid.”

Nodding with reluctant agreement, Danny sat down next to him and forced back tears. He’d cried enough for one day.

“The mind is breakable,” Gustav continued. “Very fragile. You almost killed your mother tonight, but I think I fix the problems.”

“I just wanted…I wanted to make her better.”

“Magic is like gun. It is tool to use, but is more than that. This is why you go to school, yes? To help you understand better what you do, so you don’t hurt people. Magic is dangerous, because it can’t be taken away.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a gun, and I can hide it from you. Take it away and lock it up. You have magic; I have to trust you to know how to use it wisely. Yes? And what you did here and at the liquor store—that is not wise.”

Danny flinched. “How did you know?”

“Is on the news. I take care of your mother. Then wait for you. I get bored and turn on the TV. Liquor store explodes and three people inside are found in the water half a mile away. None of them know how they get there. But I know. And so do you.”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just…”

Gustav put an arm around Danny’s shoulders and squeezed.

“So, now you know, yes? You don’t play with minds. You don’t play with people. Because sometimes you can’t fix what you’ve done.”

“But we can fix Mom, right?”

“Your mother sleeps now. She needs rest. Tomorrow, you call work for her and tell them she’s sick. Maybe after that, she’ll be better.”

“Maybe?” That single word had never seemed so dire.

“Da, maybe. We won’t know until she wakes up, but I think I do good work. I am a specialist. What I did to her will help.”

“What
did
you do to her?”

“That is not important. What you did to her, Danny, was not good. That is important part and you have learned a lesson from it. But she’ll be okay, I think.”

They sat without speaking for a while. The only sound was the television, where the local late-night programming had been pre-empted by coverage of the liquor store explosion. There was nothing left but the foundation.

“I can’t believe I did that.” Danny stared at the screen.

Gustav rose, crossed the living room, and turned the television off. Then he turned on the lamp and sat back down. “Magic requires control. You fell against a wall and wound up here, along with your bike, because you were lucky. You burned a building and no one died, because you were smart. You made them go away. But you could have killed them anyway. You got lucky twice. But maybe not next time. Remember that. Magic has teeth.”

“So, are you mad at me?”

Gustav shook his head. “Nyet. Not mad. Disappointed. You should have talked to me first.”

Disappointed instead of angry. That didn’t make Danny feel any better.

Gustav patted the couch cushion. “Is more comfortable than my bed at home. I will stay here tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“You made a mess today. Someone will notice.”

“You mean like the police?”

“No.” Gustav walked to the window and pulled back the curtain. “There is another like us in this town. Your teacher. Michael Bedrik.”

“Mr. Bedrik? He’s like us?”

Gustav nodded.

“How long have you known?”

“Since the day I met you. When we saw his brother’s body.”

“Is he good or bad?”

Gustav shrugged. “There is no good or bad. Magic is what it is, power and knowledge. Sometimes is used for good, sometimes is used for bad. This time, I think he is using it as bad. Very bad.”

“Why?”

“Because, I’ve heard the dead screaming. That is never a good thing. There are lights in the graveyard at night where no lights should be.”

“So what do we do? I can’t go to school if he’s there.”

“Yes,” Gustav insisted. “You go to school, is important that you do. We must appear normal. And you must talk to him if he speaks to you. You must make him think you are not afraid. How you say—keeping up appearances? He knows about me. He does not know about you.”

“Actually,” Danny whispered, “he might.”

“Actually? Speak clearly, boy. What has happened?”

“Damn it,” Danny said. “I should have known. I forgot to tell you.”

“What do you mean? You suspected this?”

“No.” Danny explained the conversation he’d had with Bedrik in the school library, how the teacher had been familiar with Crowley and had recommended other works. His expression darkened as he admitted to Gustav that Bedrik had asked about him as well, and his connection to Danny.

“He said something weird, too. That Gustav wasn’t your real name. I was gonna tell you, but when I got to your house, you gave me the presents and I forgot all about it. I’m really sorry.”

Gustav let the curtains fall back into place. “Is okay, Danny. You are young. You get presents, you get excited. Is natural, no? Besides, it wouldn’t have mattered. He knows my name and that gives him power. But he does not know everything.”

“Like what?”

Gustav’s voice was flat and emotionless. “He does not know what I am capable of. I am willing to make sacrifices.”

789

Bedrik stood in an alleyway, staring at the smoldering wreckage of Giordano’s Happy Bottle Shop. Beneath the rubble, the fires still burned despite the rain. The storm’s fury had increased throughout the night. Rain fell in sheets, mercilessly blasting across houses, cars and trees. The gutters overflowed and the runoff swept through the streets, washing away debris. The cold water soaked through his clothing, dripped from his chin and nose, and plastered his hair to his head. But Bedrik felt no chill.

His hatred kept him warm.

Gustav had breached the wards he’d so carefully put in place around his home. Granted, the old man hadn’t pushed through with the assault, but the very fact that he’d penetrated them rattled Bedrik. Still, Gustav had fled rather than provoke him further. The Russian was probing, testing Bedrik’s power and strength. And if his distraction at the end proved anything, it was that their encounter had left Gustav drained. That was why the old man left—to recharge and recuperate. Gustav wasn’t nearly as strong as he’d expected. Bedrik knew that he needed to press forward now, attack his rival while the man was still weakened. But not here—Brackard’s Point was neutral ground. And it couldn’t be at Gustav’s domicile. That would be foolish, giving the old man an advantage. Nor could it occur in Bedrik’s home. Gustav had probed his defenses and found them daunting. He would not return.

There was only one place such a confrontation could happen; Gethsemane Cemetery. There, Bedrik’s power would be strongest, with hundreds of shades at his command, just waiting beneath the soil. In addition, he had his army of townspeople whose bodies already housed the dead. If he could somehow lure Gustav to the graveyard, disposing of him would be easy. The Russian couldn’t possibly withstand such an assault. His power would wane in the face of it. Then, Gustav would be under his control.

Bedrik turned his attention back to the wreckage. It had been all over the news. That was what had brought him here. Not the explosion, but the fact that three survivors had found themselves floating in the Hudson, rather than burned to a crisp.

Magic.

But it was raw, unchanneled. The work of an amateur. This couldn’t have been Gustav. This was someone else. Bedrik ignored the rain creeping down his back and concentrated on the ruins. He was not as adept with temporal magic as he’d like, but there had to be evidence he could use. All he needed was to catch the scent.

Investigators combed through the wreckage despite the downpour. None of them paid attention to Bedrik and he returned the favor. His eyes glazed over as he concentrated. There, beneath blackened bricks—a glimmer. He focused, finding a faint trace of the power that had caused this destruction. With that dying ember, he caught the psychic scent. The rest was easy. The magician, whoever it was, had shed residual energy as they left the scene, like a fizzling sparkler. Bedrik followed the trail back to its source.

Danny’s house. And Gustav was inside as well.

So. There was his proof. The Russian had taken the boy as an apprentice. An adept. And thus, he’d left himself open to defeat. Bedrik knew Gustav’s weakness.

Danny.

Now all he had to do was exploit it.

Bedrik summoned his minions, and then hurried home to prepare.

789

Normally, the sound of the rain drumming against the roof soothed him, but Danny couldn’t fall asleep. He finally gave up and wandered into the living room, where Gustav lay sprawled across the couch, snoring lightly. Danny shivered. The old man slept with his eyes open. Danny moved on to his mother’s bedroom and checked on her. She looked peaceful. She hadn’t woken yet, but Gustav seemed positive that she’d recover.

Danny sighed. Only a few weeks ago he’d wanted to leave Brackard’s Point and never come back. Now, looking down at his mother, he wanted to stay. But could he anymore? His Mom was hurt. Matt had been arrested and was probably in the juvenile detention center. Chuck, Ronny and Jeremy were pissed at him. He’d blown up a liquor store. And his teacher was a renegade magician. None of it made sense.

If magic was so great, why did he feel like such a loser? Cool new tricks, same old Danny.

Exhausted, but still unable to sleep, he lay down on the bed next to his mother and closed his eyes. The only sounds were the rain and her soft, low breathing.

Finally, he slept. His dreams were full of shadows.