shadowrun 40 The Burning Time (20 page)

Now Gallow might be back, too. The spirit hated Talon and everything connected with him. He would do anything to destroy Talon, and Trouble wasn’t going to let that happen. She set Ian’s ring on the table, then took out her cyberdeck, which she set on her lap. She plugged its optical cable into the jack behind her ear and snapped the other end into the wall jack.

Time to go hunting for information, she thought, and tapped the Go button. She let the virtual world of the Matrix unfold around her, leaving all her doubts and fears behind. In the Matrix, she was one of the best: confident, capable, unbeatable. In the Matrix, she wasn’t afraid. If Gallow was around, she’d track down the information.

A short while later, Trouble logged off and pulled the cable from her datajack with a deep sigh. It wasn’t a lot to go on, but she did discover one lead that made it look like Talon was right. Knight Errant had logged a burned body found in an alley, tagging it as one of the many Jane Does that turned up in the metroplex every day. The difference was that the routine autopsy didn’t find any signs of what caused the burns, and the forensic mage on duty had tagged it a possible magical crime, perhaps by a wizzer gang or even a rogue spirit.

The charred body fit the pattern of other victims killed by Gallow. Equally disturbing was that the killing had taken place only a couple of klicks from her doss. Was it possible that Gallow was stalking her? The spirit had tried to use her against Talon before. It had held her hostage, and Talon had given up the chance to banish Gallow in order to save her life. Trouble shuddered at the memory of the spirit’s burning touch.

She reached over and tapped Talon’s number into the telecom. The number rang a couple of times, then stopped as a musical tone came over the line. "We’re sorry," a pleasant synthesized voice said, "but the number you’re trying to reach is temporarily unavailable. If you’d like to leave a message, you may do so after the tone."

Trouble left a brief message, asking Talon to get back to her. She wondered why he’d turned off his phone. He’d gone off saying he was going to get the rest of the team together, so she decided to go over to the Avalon and see what was up. She put the cyberback back into its case and zipped it shut.

Just as she was putting on her jacket to leave, a knock at the door almost startled her out of her wits. God, I really am jumpy, she thought.

When she checked the spy-port, she was surprised to see who was at the door. She opened it cautiously, ready to draw the pistol packed in her shoulder harness if need be.

The red-haired woman breezed past her into the apartment before Trouble could stop her.

"Ian sent me to find you," Bridget said.

"What is it?" Trouble asked. "Did something happen? Is he all right?"

"Yes, he’s fine," Bridget said, and her eyes dropped to the ring lying on the table. The way she stared at it made Trouble wonder if the other woman was jealous of her relationship with the leader of the Knights.

"He gave you that?" Bridget asked. It wasn’t really a question.

Trouble was annoyed by her presumption and more than a little concerned by her motive for asking. "I don’t see that it’s any of your. . .urk!"

She gasped as Bridget moved with incredible speed, grabbing her by the throat and pinning her against the wall with inhuman strength. Trouble fumbled for her gun, but Bridget batted it away like a toy. It clattered to the floor.

"Excellent," she said in a hoarse whisper. "Things do have a way of falling into place. He was here, wasn’t he?"

Trouble gasped and struggled. She could barely breathe in Bridget’s iron grip. How could she be so strong? Was she cybered up?

Trouble shook her head. "No," she choked out. "Ian hasn’t been here. . ."

"Not him," Bridget hissed. "Talon."

Then Trouble saw the hate glittering in Bridget’s eyes, felt the heat of her skin, like a fever, the inhuman strength.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "Gallow."

"That’s right," Bridget said, an evil smile spreading over her face. "He was here, wasn’t he? My dear creator—I can sense his presence, his stink, on you." Bridget leaned closer, her breath hot on Trouble’s face. "And you hate him, don’t you?" she whispered, smirking.

"Frag you," Trouble said, struggling.

Gallow tightened the grip on her throat, and her vision started to swim. "Yes," the spirit said, drawing the word out. "You hate him. You think you love him, but you know he can never return your love, not in the way you want, not in the way you long for, deep down inside. And that poisons that little, hidden part of you, doesn’t it? Such a thin line between love and hate. . .Admit it. A part of you hates him, a part you feel so guilty about."

Trouble glared as defiantly as she could at the spirit in a woman’s body. "Not as much as I hate you," she gasped out.

"That’s just what I needed to hear," Gallow said. Then it leaned in close and kissed Trouble, Bridget’s lips so hot they seared like the touch of a branding iron. Trouble screamed, but something hot, dry, and burning invaded her mouth, choking off her cry. She struggled feebly against it. Then her struggles subsided as Gallow held her pinned against the wall, slowly slumping against her. Bridget’s clothes and hair began to smoke, then burst into flames. Trouble pushed the limp, burning body away from her, letting it fall to the floor, where it was consumed in flames.

As the fire spread across the carpet, she calmly picked up her cybercase and her gun, which had fallen to the floor. She slipped the gun back into its holster and went over to get Ian’s ring. Slipping it onto her finger, she admired its gleam in the light of the fire beginning to spread across the room. She opened the door, glancing back into the burning room as the smoke detector in the hall began to blare an alarm.

"I hope you’ll be happy to see your bride-to-be, Ian," Gallow said in Trouble’s voice. "There’s still much work to be done, and I wouldn’t want to miss the finale."

The spirit walked out of the building, then stood nearby and watched it burn. Only when the firefighters arrived did Gallow take its leave.

Talon had Valkyrie drive him home to pick up some things he would need. After Aracos verified that the coast was clear, he ran in and gathered up the items. Back in the van, he directed Val to pick up Trouble at her place. As they drove, he checked his headphone and found a message from her.

"Tal," it said, "I’ve been doing some digging and I found a Knight Errant report of a Jane Doe burned to death in an alley not too far from here the other night. They’ve labeled it an unsolved crime, possibly magic-related. Call me back."

He mentally keyed Trouble’s cell number and waited. It rang several times, then the message function came on. He hung up without leaving a message. They’d be at her place soon enough.

"Holy drek!" Hammer said as they turned onto Trouble’s street. Her building was in flames, with several firetrucks clustered around the building working to put out the fire. It looked like they had it contained and that only the top two floors had been damaged. People were crowded along the sidewalk, and uniformed Knight Errant officers were keeping them back to give the fire-fighters room to work. It looked like most of the crowd had been rousted out of bed and been forced to evacuate the building.

The mass of people, the barricades, and the rubbernecking drivers slowed traffic to a crawl, even at this late hour. "Keep it casual," Talon said to Val, as they merged into the traffic moving slowly down the street. "Just keep driving past like everyone else and find a place to park a few blocks from here." He leaned back. "I’m going to go and check it out."

Talon let his head fall back against the seat and sank quickly into a trance. His astral form glided from his body and the van, with Aracos close behind.

They flew over to the building, passing heedlessly through the streams of water from the fire hoses. When they reached Talon’s apartment, Talon felt a jolt of shock. The interior was blackened and charred, a total loss. The furniture and appliances were burned amid the water-soaked morass. More important was the lingering aura in the place, the distinctive astral residue of magic.

He floated through the ruined door and looked around. Aracos moved on ahead, alert for any signs of danger.

"Boss, over here," Aracos said. Talon felt a chill ripple through his being as he saw it too. There, curled up on the floor in an almost fetal position, was a badly burned corpse, charred beyond all recognition.

"Oh my gods," Talon said, and a terrible fear well up inside him. He reached out with one insubstantial hand to brush his astral fingers a few centimeters from the surface of the body. The aura of the recent and sudden death was heavy in the ether, hanging over the whole room like a shroud.

"Is it. . .her?" Aracos asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"I don’t know." Talon forced himself to look closer at the body, praying like he hadn’t prayed for a long time. He felt sick, but he forced himself to move closer, hovering over the burned corpse.

"Thank gods," he said finally. "I don’t think it’s her." He pointed to the head and neck. "Look. There’s no datajack."

The fire had burned away most of the flesh, but there was no telltale gleam of a datajack’s metal or wires . The body couldn’t be Trouble’s.

"Then who is it?" Aracos asked.

"I don’t know, but we’d better find out."

Talon gave a quick look around the rest of the apartment, but sensed nothing unusual. The damage was too extensive to determine anything more, particularly from the astral plane.

Nothing more to be done here, so they returned to the van, which Trouble had parked a few blocks away. Talon slipped back into his body and opened his eyes. The others were looking at him anxiously.

"It looks like the fire started in Trouble’s apartment," he said. "There’s a body in there, but I don’t think it’s hers. I didn’t seen any sign of a jack or other ware."

"Then who is it?" Boom asked. "And where’s Trouble?"

Talon shook his head. "I don’t know. Maybe whoever started the fire got careless. Before we got there, I picked up a message from her. She must have called when we were leaving the club. The fire probably started right after that, because the message didn’t sound like she was in any danger."

"Maybe Cross went after her, too," Kilaro said, speaking up suddenly. "It could have been a bomb or something."

"It didn’t look like there had been an explosion, just a fire," Talon said. " I think we’ve more than a problem with your corp, chummer." A glance at Boom and Hammer told him they understood what he was saying. A fire certainly fit Gallow’s style.

"What now?" Val asked. "We probably shouldn’t stay here too long."

"You’re right," he said. "Head north."

"Where to?"

"The L-Zone. I know some people who’ll give us a safe place to lie low for a while. I’ve got some magic to do."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Gallow walked through the dark tunnels of the Catacombs in Trouble’s body. As it approached the entrance to Mama Iaga’s lair, a pale-skinned troll covered with warty bumps and nodules of bone stepped from the shadows to block the way. It wore leathers crudely stitched together to fit its bulk and a harness across its massive chest. The troll carried no visible weapons, but its size and strength were enough to tear most opponents limb from limb with his bare hands.

"Stand aside," Gallow said. "Mama is expecting me."

The troll reached out a massive hand, but Gallow smiled poisonously, and Trouble’s body was instantly shrouded in an aura of fire. The troll cried out, his scream echoing through the tunnels as it pulled back its burned hand and whimpered. Gallow glared. The troll scuttled to one side, letting it stride through the door and into the inner sanctum of its mistress.

As the velvet curtain fell into place behind Gallow, a voice spoke from the shadows near the dim hearth.

"You shouldn’t have injured Albin, my dear," Mama said like a mother scolding a wayward child. "Now I’ll have to heal him after he’s had a chance to think about what happens when you play with fire."

"He shouldn’t have blocked my way," Gallow said.

"He was only protecting his dear old mother," Mama said, leaning forward and allowing the dim light to reveal her gaunt and wrinkled face.

As if the old hag required protection, Gallow thought. It knew better than most just how powerful Mama was. She might command its loyalty for the moment, but Gallow knew that a time would come when they would have to test who would be the master and who the slave. The spirit looked forward to the day. It had no intention of losing that struggle.

"Besides," Mama continued, "Albin obviously didn’t recognize your new. . .outfit." She smiled, showing her sharp little yellow teeth. "Quite nice. I think it suits you."

"It does, doesn’t it?" Gallow smiled back. He turned this way and that to show off Trouble’s form. "Still, not as well as Talon’s body will suit me."

"Soon, my dear, very soon. Is everything else ready?"

"With O’Donnel and the Knights? Oh, yes, even more than I’d expected." Gallow held out its hand, fingers splayed out, letting the gold ring on Trouble’s finger catch the light of the candles. "It seems dear Ian is quite enamoured of his fair lady."

"Wonderful," Mama said, clasping her bony hands together in a ghoulish parody of girlish glee. "And I have just the present for the happy couple."

She picked up a small, metallic cylinder from the table beside her chair and held it out to Gallow. He stepped forward to take it from her.

"That contains the catalyst for our little Pandora’s box," she said. "See that it’s used properly, and the plans of O’Donnel and his little band will be successful beyond their wildest dreams. Too bad they won’t have the opportunity to see the fruits of their labors."

"And then I get to take Talon?" Gallow asked.

"Oh yes, my dear. I’m sure you’ll have no difficulty finding him. In fact, I’m sure he’ll come looking for you."

"Good," Gallow said.

"Never let it be said that I don’t try to keep my boys happy," Mama returned with a wicked smile. "Now hurry back to ‘your’ man. I’m sure he can’t wait to hear the happy news from his blushing bride-to-be."