Sorcerer Rising (A Virgil McDane Novel) (14 page)

We were both quiet for a while. She stepped back, sitting down on the stool, her finger twirling that same lock of hair again. “You have no need to prove yourself, Wizard. You have done so before. Leave this behind. Call him tonight and get out of it. No one will think less of you and I will deal with Aberland.”

I shook my head, closing my eyes. “I’m not a Wizard anymore.” It had been a long time since anyone referred to me as such. It hurt. Hurt even worse having to deny it. “I’m a Sorcerer and I will keep my word.”

“And what of Ben?” she asked, her jaw set. “What will you do about him? What will you do when he sends the Leviathan after you. When that brute shows up at your door?”

“I’m not worried about that,” I lied.

Priscilla’s eyes grew hard. “That’s it? You’re just going to ignore it?”

“Actually,” I said slowly, “I think I’m going to go see him. It’s been a while.”

“See him?” she screamed. “Are you crazy? Didn't he break you ribs he last time?”

I thought about correcting her on that but it hadn’t really flown with Al. I didn't think it would go much better with her. “I’m not doing anything but asking a few simple questions.”

She tensed, becoming unnaturally still. “You are actually going to tell him?” she whispered. “I thought you meant after the fact, in the long run.”

She slid off the stool, getting right in my face. “This is beyond stupid, beyond insanity. You are going to walk into a Charterhouse? Benjamin Mullally’s Cha
rterhouse? Could you be any more reckless?”

“He is my best resource for Guild knowledge. He
won’t do anything and wouldn't have any basis if he wanted to.”

“And you think that will matter to him?” she asked. “You don’t think he will do whatever is necessary to protect the Guild’s reputation? His reputation?”

“He won’t,” I said. “I know he won’t.”

“And when you leave America?” she asked. “You will be a walking target wherever you go. What makes you think you can just hide this from them?”

It was my turn to get in her face. “I hid
you
from them, didn’t I?”

Lightning flashed in the sky above us, illuminating the hurt in her eyes. “That is not fair, Virgil.”

I held up a hand. “I’ve never regretted it. But you know as well as I do, what I did was ten times more dangerous than this. Since then, I have broken their laws at every opportunity. Two nights ago I fought off Willy Cruder and Leo Saigan. If they knew a fraction of how I made my living, or what I did to ensure your survival, the fucking Rainbow would be the least of my problems. Like it or not, that’s life for me now!

“It’s not about following their rules any more. It’s just about not getting caught and I’ve become adept at that.” I took a deep breath thinking back to Teplov. “At least I’m getting paid for this one. A lot.”

She glared at me, giving the textbook definition of bedroom eyes at the same time. “I offered payment when you brought me out of Nidia,” she said slowly, her voice a mixture of anger and seduction. “In a plethora of currencies. You declined.”

Only Priscilla could say plethora and get that kind of reaction. But I recognized that look. She had a real pretty glare. She had a pretty face anyway, but her glare sharpened it, refined it. Each of her expressions was like looking at a different woman, and each was attractive in a different way.

This one meant she was done arguing.

She pouted. “You could always take up my offer. Stay here.” She wrapped her arms around my neck, the glow fading from her eyes until they were natural and normal. They were a beautiful
dark amber when she wasn’t trying to be spooky..

“Think about it,” she said softly, “no more problems, no more concerns. Just stay here. I will take care of you.”

In the back of my mind I could hear Al’s opinion on
that
. Approval didn’t come quite close enough. I was so taken aback by the change in tone, I didn’t know what to say.

Which meant I said something stupid.

“Said the spider to the fly,” I quipped.

She froze, then pulled away. Now it wasn’t just concern on her face, it was hurt. The sky above us thundered and rain began to pelt the glass.

“I’m sorry, Priscilla. I shouldn’t have said that.”

She twirled her hair around her finger, her eyes distant. “It’s all right,” she said finally. “Do what you must.”

“I’ll be careful,” I assured her.

“I’ve seen what your version of careful is,” she said. “That is what scares me.”

I gave her a weak grin. “It’s never not worked before.” Then I remembered why I had really come here. “Thank you for the information, Priscilla, but I need something else.”

“Anything,” she said.

“I can’t leave my stuff in the apartment. Even if I wasn’t about to be evicted. And I can’t just take them on the trip.”

“Why not? It was never a problem before.”

“That was before the Brand,” I said. “It doesn’t work like it did before. It weighs on me more. It’s been exhausting just walking around with it.”

“Leave your things in my office and I will make sure they remain safe.” She gave me a hard look. “Until you come back.”

“Until I come back,” I agreed.

I opened the door. The rain was coming down harder and harder. Lightning flashed in the distance. I looked back. She was rubbing her arms, the cool moonlight playing against her skin. Shadows from the rainfall obscured her face. She looked fragile in the dark greenhouse. For all the confidence she displayed, for all her power that justified that confidence, she was still vulnerable.

She smiled, but it was sad. “I can take care of myself too, Virgil. Actually, I think I can better than you.” She touched my cheek. “Just stay safe.”

I touched her hand. I was pretty sure she had just worked something on me, but I wasn’t sure. Her stuff was always too subtle for me to track. I could feel the tickling soft sensation of her magic over my cheek.

Like a spider web.

I kissed her on the forehead. “Goodbye, Priscilla. And thank you.”

Then I walked out into the rain.

CHAPTER NINE

For the first time in four years
, I had enough money to hail a cab, and not a damn one was in sight.

And it was raining.

The streets were empty as I walked home. It would be good to get some rest. Wind was whipping down the street, sheets of rain pelting against my coat. Meeting the team and dealing with all that had been enough to tire anyone. With the addition of Sarah and the Cathedral, I was exhausted.

Before I could rest though, I would nee-

Stars exploded in my vision, knocking me to my knees. The ground became blurry as the stars faded, my head reeling. Next thing I knew the ground had become the sky and I was floating.

Then I came back to earth with a painful jolt.

Everything was dark. Two figures were in the mouth of the alleyway. I must have passed out for a moment, because the next thing I saw were the two figures rummaging through my coat.

My. Coat.

I lifted my head, trying to get my bearings. We were near the back of the alleyway, far enough from the street that few would be able to hear a disturbance. Worse, we were in a neighborhood where most wouldn’t even call 911, let alone stop to intervene.

The two paid me little attention, and no wonder. My gun was missing, all my rings, everything I had in my pockets, even the knife I kept in my boot. Everything.

They finished searching my coat and threw it back at me.

They would pay for that mistake.

Both were tall and thin, identically dressed in long, brown trench coats and fedoras. The streetlight flickered against their back, illuminating oddly proportioned features. Their faces were too blocky, as if they had been carved from clay, their noses nothing more than a sharp triangle that jutted from above their mouth. Their breathing was wet, rasping, as if they had pneumonia.

After letting them watch me lay there in the muck for a few moments, I crawled to my feet
. They made no move to stop me.

I brushed the mud from my coat and threw it around me, letting the weight settle over my shoulders. My initial
thought that the Guild had come looking for me was displaced. I wouldn’t put it past Ben or his boys to pick me up without proof; it had happened before and would happen again, but the two before me weren’t Wizards.

So I just smiled and asked, “
Is there a problem, gentleman?”

They looked at each other, then back at me. “Where is he?” the taller
one rasped in a wet, phlegmy voice. He spoke the words slowly, as if they were strange in his mouth.

“A name would help,” I replied. “Tell me who you want and I would be happy to point you in his direction. Otherwise check a directory or call an operator like a normal person. They’ll be a lot more accommodating than I will.”

“Sumpah!” he spat. Literally. He actually spat at me. “Answer me! I command you!” He drew a knife from his coat pocket. It was long and wickedly curved. There was no glint of metal, only the rough texture of stone. Coral maybe.

My blood ran cold. It wasn’t so much the blade that bothered me but the raw magic
it radiated. It hit me in the face like a tidal wave, tasting of salt and brine.

Not quite as dramatic, but perhaps more concerning, I noticed that while I was soaking wet from the downpour,
my attackers were dry. The rain was falling
around
them.

“I told you, I don’t know who you’re looking for.”

The tall one was fast. Before I could brace myself, he had darted forward, slugging me in the gut. There was a moment of vertigo, then the brick wall caught me, pain lancing up my back. I crumpled to the ground, puking as I held my stomach.

The two began gibbering back and forth in a language I didn’t recognize, making sounds I felt confident were not capable of being made by human throats. The tall one had my rings, picking through them while the other examined my gun.

I stood up, holding my stomach. The short one looked up.

“Move and die,” he said.

“And do not even think of spellcraft,” added his buddy. “You will be a stain on the floor before you can move.”

I glared at him, but he didn’t seem to care. He and his buddy went back to looking over my rings. The taller one was definitely better with English. That made my choice easier.

A few moments later the streetlight flickered out and I took that as my cue. I reached into my jacket pocket, concentrated, and pulled out Abigail, a double-barreled shotgun with a sawed off handle. Two barrels of blue steel, inscribed with faint runes and sigils, pointed straight at the figures.

I whistled, drawing their attention, smiling as they looked up. For a moment
they froze, then Shorty charged, the knife glowing in the dim light.

He wasn’t quite as fast as he thought he was though.

I pulled the first trigger, firing at his chest. There was a flash and I felt some type of defenses light up, surrounding him with a silhouette of power. The scent of sea salt and fish and palm trees filled my nose. Then there was the scent of sulfur and cordite and steel. It burned the scent of the ocean from the air and my attacker was thrown against the far wall, his body slumping to the ground, blood oozing from the wide crater that had been his chest.

In real life guns don’t send people flying around like ragdolls. That’s only in Hollywood. They usually just fall to the ground where you shot them. But this wasn’t a normal gun. It held more than bullets and fired more than lead.

I turned the weapon on the other one. Deep, blue grey smoke drifted from the end of the barrel, curling in intricate patterns, paying no heed to either rain or wind.

“Want to try it out?” I asked. “Maybe you’re better than him. I’m up for experimentation if you are.”

He was smarter than his friend. He didn’t move.

“We searched you?” he said, more a question than a statement.

“You need practice.” Of course, they didn’t know about the pocket dimensions I had sown into my coat long ago.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“You ambushed me?” I said. “What do
you
want?”

“I will not answer you.”

“Then I don’t really need you to waste anymore of my air.” I aimed down the barrels.

“Filthy cur!” he said. “Why do you interfere? Your only hope is to tell me where he is. Tell me where the...” He paused, looking for the word. “Tell me where the m’salt is and this will end. If you do not, I will bleed you alive.”

“Awful cocky for a man with his hands in the air. I have no idea what a…whatever you said is. You want my help, start talking and stop threatening.” I was pretty sure peace talks had ended as soon as his buddy’s body had hit that wall, but I was never above sorting through things without violence.

Usually.

He shook his head. “You lie! You have been near him! We smell him all over you, all over this horrible, stinking place, but we cannot find him. He is strong on you. We know you have seen him!”