Public Enemies (28 page)

With a flourish, he pulled off the linen cloth, and the pommel caught the sunshine from the window, nearly blinding me. I flung up a hand and took a closer look at the slim elegance he was holding. The blade had a graceful arch, and it didn't look so long or heavy that it would exhaust me to use it. I'd seen weapons like it before. A few seconds later, I remembered it was called a wakizashi. The blade itself was an exquisitely worked silver edged in gold, though I knew the base material came from the sun god's heart.

When I took it from him, a shimmer of heat went up my arm, and I immediately felt safer, more centered.
That must be the protection I asked for.
I didn't kid myself that it made me invincible, however. I wouldn't let this sword turn into a crutch. Yet I definitely enjoyed flourishing it, sheer joy in the lightness of it and the whistle as it cut the air.

“It suits you,” Govannon said with obvious pleasure.

He closed the distance between us and pressed my thumb into a faint depression in the hilt. The wakizashi responded with a shiver, flowing around my arm in a glimmer of molten gold. Now it was a rather ornate bracelet. I stared at him, stunned.

“That's amazing.”

“A little,” he acknowledged. “It's yours now. You should name it.”

“Right now?” Alarmed, I couldn't imagine coming up with the perfect idea for a legendary weapon off the top of my head.

“When the time is right, you'll know,” Govannon said.

“We fed your cats, as requested.” Raoul took some of the pressure off by bringing up the animals.

“What about the dragon out back?” Govannon was so deadpan, I couldn't tell if he was serious. “You've been starving him for days?”

“Uh.” Kian got up to peer out the back window with a harried expression.

The break had been good for him, allowing him to recover fully from the lingering weakness resulting from the snake god bites. I had a feeling most people never woke up.

“Joking. You're very serious people, aren't you?” The smith grinned, showing white teeth, and joy lent him a stunning beauty. Unlike the clown, his smile was warm and sincere.

“It's been that kind of year,” I said quietly.

“Well, I hope your quest is successful.”

Raoul bowed, and I followed suit. Ten minutes later, we were in the Mustang heading back to Boston. I only hoped it wasn't too late.

I slept most of the way back. On waking, I saw the city lights were twinkling in the distance, but it was my arm that freaked me out—and not because my marks were burning. Instead my sword arm felt magnetized. The bracelet kept swinging my arm to point due west. Raoul glanced over his shoulder; he looked tired from the drive, but he wouldn't let Kian spell him. After our last stop, he'd chosen to ride in back with me, though I protested it might make Raoul feel like a chauffeur. Kian wrapped an arm around my shoulder, leaning close to examine the way the armlet worked me like a lever.

“What's going on?” Raoul asked.

“I'm not sure. The weapon seems to be telling me something.”

“Any idea what?” Kian studied the graceful gold curve wrapping my arm, but other than making me point, it was uncommunicative.

“Nope. Govannon didn't say the weapon had a mind of its own, right?”

Raoul shook his head. “No, he definitely would've warned us.”

“Great, so that's not out of the question.” I made a snap decision. “This might sound nuts but I feel like we should check it out. If it tries to take us out of Boston, we'll turn back.”

“I've done stranger things,” Kian said.

Instead of heading back to the apartment, we turned as indicated, heading farther west. Eventually we parked in front of a ramshackle apartment building. It should've been condemned years ago, but from the wraithlike figure of the old woman gazing down from a dirty window, it obviously hadn't been. I expected her to recoil when she noticed us looking up at her, but her blank stare never wavered. She wore an old-fashioned high-collar nightgown and her lank gray hair flowed past her bony shoulders. Then, to my bewilderment, she began to dance.

“What the hell.”

I didn't understand what we were doing here, what the wakizashi was trying to tell me, until I caught sight of the thin man across the street, watching her divine madness. The creature stood as if transfixed, captive to her awkward, ungainly turns. It hadn't noticed us yet, but I'd touched it. Therefore, there might be some kind of connection between the thin man and me since the thin man worked for Dwyer and the blade was forged from the sun god's essence. So in the most scientific terms I could manage, we were a sort of limited feedback loop. That meant, if I could capture the thin man, it could lead me to its master.

And hopefully, my father.

“I know why we're here,” I whispered.

Without explaining, I banged on the back of the seat. Raoul got out even as Kian grabbed my arm, trying to get me to slow down. But I couldn't, not now. Not when I was so close.

When my feet hit the pavement, Buzzkill was there. I didn't have time to spaz out over him seeing Raoul. He didn't seem to recognize him, which meant the amulet was working. Instead the clown was focused on me.

“Where the hell did you go, kid? You know how worried I've been?”

“Worried?” I laughed.

“That I'd have to admit to the boss that I lost you, yeah.”

“Not important. If you're coming, let's do this. Stay here,” I added to Kian and Raoul.

Kian tried to push past, but Raoul caught his arm. I didn't look back as I strode toward the thin man. It didn't seem to notice me until I was right on top of it.
Part of the shielding effect of the wakizashi?
At that moment, the perfect name popped into my head.

Aegis.

As I thought that, the weapon flowed from my wrist to my hand. Buzzkill actually looked stunned, eyes wide. “Holy shit. That's—”

“Mine. Eyes on the enemy, all right?”

Disgruntled, he said, “Yeah,” as the thin man snapped alert.

It tried to vanish on me, but I pinned it between the brick and my blade. The creature seemed to recognize Dwyer's essence, so it quieted. The cemetery reek of it washed over me, along with an echo of the horrors it had shown me. But I knew the truth of it; this monster was born of madness and disorder, so no wonder it was drawn to the old woman still capering in her window. Her psychosis was complete, impressive in its disregard for the rest of the world.

“Take me to him,” I whispered.

“You cannot compel me, living dead girl.” But the paper-tiger tone had no teeth, all empty rustling, and it didn't move.

It couldn't.

“I think you know what I'm holding. Go on, refuse me again.”

The thin man flinched, just a hint of recoil, but that sent a delicious, luxurious chill through me. That fast, the tables turned, and
I
had some power in this world. Standing a little straighter, I added pressure. I had no idea what would happen if I ran it through, but the thin man didn't want to find out. It tried to grab the blade and black smoke poured from its fingertips. I recalled Govannon saying that he needed to learn of my heart.

Does that mean the sword will reject anyone who isn't worthy? Damn.

“I'll take you to him,” the thin man wheezed. “But there will be no profit for you in it. The son of the morning star will burn you down to ash and bone.”

Then it grabbed me and pulled me into a crack in the wall. Its touch was still pure madness, boiling into my mind like molten sewage. Dead dogs, rotting logs teeming with larvae, an empty house with tumbledown walls, half etched with arcane symbols. I shoved the images away and refused to let them in. When it let go, I was somewhere else.

Buzzkill slid in behind me. I didn't know how we'd gotten wherever we were, but it was obviously the entryway to a mansion. The floor was inlaid with a stylized sun, done in gold and ivory marble. Overhead, a huge chandelier dangled with hundreds of crystals, all glimmering and reflecting the light. The place was warmer than I expected for its size, a definite sign Dwyer was here.

In a voice laced with rust and rage, the thin man rasped, “My father's house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?” Creepy as hell for this thing to quote the Christian Bible.

A shiver I didn't entirely understand worked through me. “Find Dwyer, or my father. Either one will spare your wretched life.”

“No need to threaten the help,” came a deep voice from the top of the stairs. “I didn't expect you would be polite enough to return my property.”

“Think again. I'm here to kill you.”

“You and that clown?” A laugh escaped the sun god as he strode lightly down the steps toward us.

When he hit the ground floor, he stumbled a bit because Aegis came to attention in my hand, angled in the perfect battle stance.
I
didn't do it but it recognized him, just as it had the thin man, and I suspected it knew we were enemies.
He must be so pissed.

“What have you done?” he roared. “I will take your heart and
eat
it for this. This … this is grotesque.” His throat worked with visible rage.

I smirked. “Govannon sends his regards.”

“I'll deal with him next.”

There was no point in delaying this further. I might die here, but at least I wouldn't take Kian or Raoul with me. Beside me Buzzkill's knives were in his hands and together; we flanked Dwyer. If he called for reinforcements, we were completely screwed. So I ran at him, feinting left and slashing right. He dodged and I twirled, marveling at how light Aegis was in my hands. It also seemed … hungry, which struck me as faintly cannibalistic.

The blade clanged against the wrought-iron stair railing, throwing sparks. Vibrations traveled up my arms to my elbows and my bones ached. I expected the same fireballs he'd mustered the last time we fought, but it hadn't been that long and I was using part of his own power against him.
Maybe … he can't?
Relief flooded me, quickening my steps. Dwyer gave way beneath my onslaught, but as he yielded ground, he whispered and then he had a spear and shield in hand. Before my eyes, he went from a pale linen suit to full golden armor, and it didn't seem to slow him.

“Afraid?” Buzzkill taunted.

Focused on me, Dwyer didn't respond. When he attacked, it was all I could do to parry as I wasn't experienced with weapons, and he had better reach. His ferocious attacks left me regretting my cockiness. His spear tangled with my wakizashi, but he failed at disarming me. Aegis clung to my fingers like a lover. Though I was hopelessly outmatched, I didn't give up.

This isn't a test of your combat prowess.
I had no idea why I heard Govannon's voice at that moment but it heartened me. Somehow I fought on, and Aegis was where it needed to be. I couldn't break Dwyer's guard without my spirit familiar but I wasn't dead yet. Buzzkill skated in behind him smoothly. With an awful grin at me, he sank one of his serrated knives into the seam of the sun god's chest plate. He twisted.

For a split second, the sun god dropped his guard. That was all Aegis needed.

It didn't even feel like me wielding the blade, more the other way around. My arm swept up and around, a clean sweep through his neck. Dwyer's face went white; there was no blood when his head toppled forward, eyes still staring in shock, as if this could not possibly happen. And then, he was just … gone, twinkled out of existence.

Not even a stain on the floor.

Buzzkill growled ten completely filthy words. “You know what you have there, kid?”

“A miracle?” I whispered.

“That thing has the power of unmaking. You must've impressed the
hell
out of the forge god. It means he trusts you to decide what monsters need killing.”

My knees went weak. “So … Dwyer—”

“He's passed on. Ceased to be. Joined the choir invisible and whatever else you can add, euphemistically speaking. Though really, I think…” Buzzkill stopped, quietly sober for once. “He's just gone. For our kind, there's nothing else.”

“Is there for us?”

With a flicker of annoyance, he shrugged. “Do I
look
like a frigging meatsack to you? Let's find your dad before Fell senses a disturbance in the Force.”

 

SAVING THE DAY ISN'T ENOUGH

It took an hour to search the property completely.

Buzzkill broke down a door in the basement, and we found my dad in a well-equipped lab, not working, just sitting. It didn't look like he'd done anything, which didn't surprise me. I was glad Dwyer didn't have him tortured for refusing to comply, but it hadn't been that long by immortal standards, so he probably hadn't given up on wearing him down. Dad blinked slowly when I came through the door.

His voice was rusty with disuse and disbelief. “Edith…?”

“Dad!” I ran to him and wrapped my arms around him.

His thinness horrified me. It was bad before he was taken, but now, I'd be surprised if he'd eaten since the day he disappeared. The bones of his back were all too prominent, and he smelled indescribable. But he hugged me with all of his waning strength and buried his head in my shoulder. For a few startled seconds, I felt like the parent welcoming home a lost child. But then, Dad hadn't exactly been taking care of me—more the reverse—when the monsters carried him off.

“How did you find me?”

Yeah, I had no comprehensible answer for that. “Let's talk later.”

“Did the police bring you here?”

That … required more explanation. “He's federal,” I lied, tilting my head at Buzzkill.

“I suppose they'll want to interview me,” he said tiredly.