Tearing The Shroud (34 page)

‘Before your foray during the last gathering of the Eight Sisters, we had considered such a thing to be quite impossible.’ He stood and paced easily about the room. ‘Of course, our minions have used a vessel of flesh on the other side of the Shroud from time to time, but no journey like yours had ever been made.’

‘I was the first?’

‘Truly, though Joinings occurred in the Realm, as you did with...’ He indicated the parrot, which held so still it appeared stuffed.

‘Pae,’ Justus provided.

‘None had even
attempted
what
you
accomplished, which is why we are here.’

Really
? Perhaps he could use this to his advantage. ‘Master, how will my passage assist your pets in gaining their way?’

‘Because you have stumbled across something we desire: a way to tear the Shroud. Your crossing weakened it; this event will further the process. Once there, you will focus your arcane abilities on that weakness. Our pets will assault it from this side and tear an opening in the Shroud.’ He gestured grandly and leaned against the counter. ‘We are here to ensure things go as planned. To the matter then, what type of vessel do you seek?’ He crossed his arms over a perfectly proportioned chest. ‘Speak freely.’

Justus cleared his throat. He had to make the most of this. ‘Previously, I used the man’s desire for power to entice him, but those who seek power do so continuously, and he eventually struggled to regain control.’ He ticked off the points on his fingers. ‘So then, a man, perhaps in his mid-twenties, handsome, healthy, used to the...darker pleasures of life, and above all, willing to live with me in control.’

The Master tapped his finger against his chin. ‘Someone who will just go along for the ride, so to speak. Wealth is not needed?’

Justus almost revealed his holdings in those lands then thought better of it. ‘I’m unwilling to make the accommodations the wealthy feel they deserve.’ Justus rubbed his chin. ‘Perhaps one who sought fame and nearly attained it.’

The Master’s eyes lit with an inner light, flickering as blue as the earlier flames. ‘We have several subjects who will serve perfectly. Might we inquire how long the terms of the contract shall be?’

‘Contract?’ His use of the word surprised Justus. ‘Won’t you just lure them into accepting me then I take what I wish?’

The platinum hair shook. ‘No, no, no, that will never do. If one truly desires a proper vessel, one must have their fullest cooperation. If you acted that way previously, it’s a wonder you found a vessel at all. A binding contract is always best.’ He waved his hand. ‘We have been doing it since the dawn of time.’

Justus nodded, seeing the benefits. ‘Make the agreement for thirty years and a stipend thereafter.’ He smiled wickedly. ‘Provided I let him live.’

The Master’s smile matched his. ‘We like the way you think. We shall, of course, leave that small addendum out of the initial contract.’

‘After which, I will require passage for my return here, and we’ll repeat the process at some future time.’

‘You wish to make this a cyclical event? We had not considered that. It would damage the Shroud further, we suppose.’

Hadn’t thought of it? The Being
wasn’t
perfect. Justus stored the information. ‘I am glad we’ve come to terms,’ Justus said.

‘Oh, there is one minor thing. Once the Shroud is torn, our pets will need a place to establish their hives. You will oversee that, agreed?’

Kafla as pets; the idea appealed to Justus, but could he arrange it? ‘Agreed.’

‘We shall contact the subjects, and return tomorrow at this time.’ The Master reached into the air; a sheet of vellum appeared in one hand and a quill in the other.

‘Provided...’ Justus’ word brought a menacing look from the Master, causing Justus to blanch. ‘Pro...vided...I have use of the Kafla.’

He tilted his head as he considered. ‘We will arrange it.’ Quick as a snake, the quill pricked Justus’ finger. The Master smiled, his mouth stretching unnaturally wide. ‘Simply sign here.’

James Franklin Wood
October 1984
Hollywood, California

James Franklin Wood opened his eyes and yawned. The blur of the previous night left no clues as to where he was.
At least it’s a bedroom.
He scratched his head and winced, remembering waking up next to a pool with a Chihuahua licking his cheek and panties around his neck.

He sat up and looked over the king-sized bed; a body formed the covers next to him. The long shapely leg of a naked woman rested on the other side of the lump.
What’s under here?
He lifted the covers carefully, revealing a second equally naked woman.
Looks like he’d had a good time.
His smile faded and he bit his lip as he searched for the missing memory.
Ah well, he’d have to do it again.

He eased out of the bed, long experience with such things having taught him the benefit of a speedy and quiet departure. Lesson one: don’t stick around for the morning after. He grinned.

Naked, he crept to the chair and picked up his billowy white shirt and black mariachi pants. Looking around, he spotted his boots near the wall and retrieved them.
Where is that coat?
He wouldn’t leave without his favorite thigh-length waistcoat.
Even if it means a morning after with
— he looked at the women —
whoever they are
. He spotted the treasured coat draped over a floor lamp and plucked it off, tiptoeing out the door, closing it behind him. Lesson two: get dressed in the hall. Why? See Lesson one. Struggling not to laugh, he headed toward what looked to be the bathroom.
Bingo.

With the door closed, he breathed a sigh of relief. Turning to the mirror, he pursed his lips and arched an eyebrow.
Dang, you’re good lookin’.

The jagged layers of his jet-black hair pointed various directions in a tousled mess and reached past his shoulders. Black eyeliner smudged his lower eyelids and accented his green eyes. Strong features and a brooding brow set off his handsomely squared chin and smooth skin.
No shave necessary this morning; thank you Apache ancestors.
He flexed the sinewy muscles of his chest and stomach.
And that completes our workout for today.
Rummaging through the drawers, he found toothpaste and pulled a brush from the stand on the sink. After scrubbing his teeth quickly, he splashed water on his face and used the deodorant in the medicine cabinet.

The skin-tight pants had sets of silver buttons attached with little chains running down each leg and flared at the bottom so they draped over his boots. It had taken months to find the right pair. He pulled on his shirt, leaving it untucked, and tossed on the overcoat. He started to run his fingers through his hair then stopped.
Why mess with perfection?
Once outside the little apartment, he slipped on his Balorama sunglasses then stepped into the morning light.
Hello Hollywood, Jimmy Wood is ready to rock.

The sidewalk in front of the café was dotted with old gum and set with graffitied newspaper stands. Inside, it was a throwback to an earlier era; a long Formica counter lined with low-backed swivel stools faced a stainless steel kitchen where a man with a crew cut worked away. Booths covered in light blue leatherette stood along the tall angled window. In the 1950s it had looked space age and modern, but now it looked aged and worn. Fortunately, aged and worn had been relabeled as ‘chic and hip’. Young night owls, rockers, and starlets needing sustenance at the end of a long night had replaced the elderly clientele.

He sat near the end of the counter, away from the entrance and other patrons. A cute blonde waitress sauntered over to him, coffeepot in hand. ‘Great show last night, Jimmy; I was up front.’ She poured his coffee without asking. ‘You guys are way better than the headliner. I
really
liked the last song.’ She smiled, tilting her head.

‘I could tell. Thanks for sharing those beauties.’ He grinned and admired the breasts that threatened to rip her uniform’s seams. ‘You should have come backstage. We had a killer party.’

At least,
he thought
he did.

‘I will next time, but I had the early shift.’

‘Do it. I’ll make sure you have a great time. Hey, beautiful, put this on my tab.’ He winked and pointed at the coffee.

‘You got it, sexy.’

Another customer sat down midway along the counter, and she started toward him. ‘Good morning, sir,’ she said pleasantly. ‘Coffee?’

‘Delectable.’ The voice next to Jimmy made him jump.

‘Wow, dude, don’t sneak up on a guy like that. Where’d you come from?’

‘Oh, I’ve been here all along, I assure you,’ the platinum-haired man said.

‘Man, I must have partied harder than I thought last night.’ Jimmy shook his head.

‘Are you having breakfast?’

‘Nah, I’m good.’ Jimmy smiled.

‘Oh, join me; I do
so
hate to eat alone.’ He smiled, revealing an overly sharp canine tooth. ‘My treat.’

Chapter 29

A Discussion

On Thursday, they pulled into the driveway. Fog made the edges of the house look out of focus. ‘I think I’ll work out a second time; you two want to join me?’ Vinni asked.

Knife held up his hands as they exited the car. ‘Pre-med, gotta protect the tools of the trade. You do the hitting; I’ll do the fixing. Besides, I have reading to do for European History.’

‘I’m a lover, not a fighter,’ Flea drawled.

‘Will you at least hold some pads for me?’ Vinni asked.

‘Last time I did that I had sore muscles on my sore muscles.’ Flea shook his head. ‘Besides...’

‘What?’ Vinni asked.

‘What if you flip out like you did at Mr Brown’s?’

Frustration surged within Vinni. ‘Are ya — ’ He bit off what he started to say.

Give him a break. Those maids —

‘Hey!’ Jule’s voice called from behind them. She had stopped and now stood with a hand on her cocked hip. ‘Talking like I’m not even here doesn’t cut it.’

‘Uh oh,’ Knife said.

‘Exactly, Knife.’ She looked at Vinni with fire in her eyes. ‘
I
would
enjoy
working out with you.’

Vinni unclenched his jaw. ‘Jule, I didn’t think to ask because I figured you wouldn’t be interested, and — ’

‘So, is it
you,
Vincent, or Coleman, who is being an idiot?’

‘Jule, I didn’t — ’

‘What? Think? Because I’m a
woman
, right?’

‘No...well, yes you are, but not because of that. I wouldn’t want to hurt you. Guys, tell her.’ Vinni looked at them, but Knife averted his eyes and Flea shook his head.

‘I’ll be here in thirty minutes,’ she said, shouldering through them.

‘Thanks for the help, guys,’ he said as Jule slammed the door.

‘You’re going to have to fix this one yourself,’ Flea said as he waved a hand and followed Jule into the house.

‘Flea, wait.’

The door slammed a second time.

‘He’ll be okay. You know him, give him a few minutes.’ Knife shook his head. ‘But, he’s right about Jule. I think you’re on your own there.’ Knife gave him a small smile and went inside.

I understand. It’s hard on all of us.

I have no doubt about a woman’s ability. I guess I’m just being protective.

Vincent knew he was right, but it didn’t make the situation any easier.

Jule’s Talent

Jule strolled into the gym wearing running shorts and a worn t-shirt. Vinni scratched the back of his head as she walked over.

Yeah...thanks. That helps a ton.

Maybe this’ll go well. She moves like a cat.

‘Jule, you had every right to be upset. I was being overprotective and inconsiderate. And I can’t blame it on Coleman either.’ He scuffed his foot.

‘Well, I wasn’t trying to get all pissy-girl.’ Jule shrugged. ‘I don’t expect to beat people up, but I didn’t appreciate being overlooked.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He ducked his chin.

‘Who could resist that look?’ She patted his chest. ‘So, what are we doing?’

‘Let’s start with some stretching and basic movements. Then I want to try the new blades Mr Brown brought.’

‘Sounds good.’

Jule’s flexibility made stretching easy, though the outfit made concentration difficult.

‘Am I doing this right?’ she asked as she reached to the floor with her feet planted wide apart and perfectly formed derriere pointed at him.

‘Yep,’ he squeaked. ‘Fine, that looks just fine. Now reach to one foot then to the other.’

She did as he instructed and giggled.

‘Something funny?’ he asked.

‘Yep.’

He realized she’d been catching glances of him the whole time. ‘Let’s, err, concentrate...on...’