The Seven (Fist of Light Series) (17 page)

The store was deceivingly large, when compared to the entrance floor. We arrived in the Sci-Fi and Fantasy section after traveling up a few stories via the escalators and then traversed the length of the store to arrive at a fairly prodigious section pertaining to the demesne of the preternatural, as humans viewed it. Of course, there could be some books in there written by beings of the supernatural community. However, I didn’t think it likely that they would impart secrets of their kind to be understood by the common folk. Reverse psychology has its uses, but declaring truth outright would be a step too far in the direction of revealing the supernatural.
Or would it
? Rubbing two forefingers on each side of my temple, I winced at the self-induced headache, contracted from my brain bouncing in so many different directions simultaneously.

I focused my attention on one particular section of books. There was an entire shelf dedicated to the books of one man: Jim Butcher. Picking up the first one that caught my eye, it appeared to be the latest addition to a very long and successful series. It was titled
Changes
, a very apt description for what was going on in my life currently.

Perhaps the first book in the series,
Storm Front
, would provide some insight into the world I was about to enter. That is, if there was any truth to the man’s words. If there wasn’t, well, maybe something meaningful could still be gleaned from its pages. There were other books of interest to me, mainly ones that might have information about the world as I now understood it. Unfortunately, not many of them seemed very encouraging, and there were inherent inconsistencies between authors and their depictions of the supernatural.

I let out an exasperated breath from between clenched teeth and diverted my attention from the stack of books to Jas, who was actively not looking at the book selection. In fact, he was doing quite the opposite of immersing himself in a world of his choosing. Unless you counted the tales he was most definitely spinning for the two brunettes that he was conversing with.

He pointed at me extravagantly, and I walked closer in order to hear the latest bullshit. “So, would you like to go on a date sometime?” His winning smile was fixed firmly in place.

Returning to my search with a snort, it appeared obvious Jas was easily distracted by the fairer sex as long as all of the body parts were attached in the right places. While finishing perusing the shelf and looking to pack up and skedaddle, Jas sauntered over with a serious case of The Smug. I don’t know how he managed it, but by the time he was done conversing with them, he had two numbers written on the palm of his hand. Smug is a well-known viral infection that occurs in flashes whenever something bad is to follow a recent success. My stomach rumbled loudly, and therefore, rationally, I figured that Jas was going to get some bad indigestion in the near future. But, it was also a cue to get some grub. Taking a peek outside the window revealed that the shadows were already beginning to lengthen, which meant it was already far past dinnertime.

A monstrous line awaited us on the entrance floor when we finally made our way down to it. Jas seemed close to bursting by the time we rang up the couple of books I had harvested.

We were receiving some hostile looks from the more daring of those who had to step two feet out of their way to get around us, so Jas and I, slowly but deliberately, entered the limo, which had somehow retained its place throughout the course of our escapades. Although our continued blocking of the traffic and slow movement irritated the passerbys, it made some mischievous part of me pleased, which is all that really matters, right? As far as I knew, the world still gyrated upon its axis, revolving around yours truly.

Jas had his grinning mouth opened wide in triumph when I interjected. “So, food? I’m hungry.”

We spoke our disparate desires for life-giving sustenance at the same time.

“Chinatown?” was my first choice.

“Home.” Jas spoke assuredly.

No doubt he was thinking about the bond that we had yet to form. As that had to wait until we got home, it only made sense for him to want to get it over and done with. The way he described it, it sounded like an exasperating sensation to live with for an extended period of time. I smiled and produced my lucky quarter out of the folds of my jeans pocket. It was the same one that had been manipulated with Air in detention. With all the shenanigans it had been through at my side, it was no longer considered an average coin to be spent and forgotten. I gave myself a mental slap for being such a sentimental sap. “Let’s flip for it.”

Jas shot me a suspicious look, his triumph all but forgotten. “All right. But I’ll do it.” He snatched the coin from my fingers, disallowing any chance for rebuttal.

“Tails,” I called instantaneously.

“Heads then.”

The quarter spun effortlessly off of Jas’ thumb and into the air, coming within inches of the vehicle’s ceiling. My stoic expression was carefully maintained on the outside, but internally, a brilliant smile shone. Just as I was about to apply my will to the quarter, however, my concentration folded.

A surly voice that bordered upon a childish whine emanated from the subterranean depths of my mind. “Can’t you turn that smile upside-down? Your soul is so bright with glee that it’s disturbing my beauty sleep.”

It was enough to shatter my admittedly weak concentration upon the task. The quarter landed in Jas’ palm tails up, and I couldn’t help the groan that escaped my lips at the sight of it. He wasn’t looking at his hand as he flipped the coin from his right palm to the back of his other hand. His eyes were trained on me the entire time, no doubt looking for signs of tampering. Which is just as well that I didn’t have the chance to do anything. It appeared that either way, I would have lost this one. Jas took his hand from the quarter with slowness akin to the movement of the Earth; you’d have to wait millions of years before you could actually discern the change.

I was astonished when he revealed the coin: tails. I didn’t receive any of Jas’ attempts to make contact with the lunar module that was my intellect. Seems it’s the little things that really blow your mind.

Jas repeated himself slowly when he saw he had my attention once more. “I guess you win this one, then.”

“I guess so,” I repeated dumbly, nodding irresolutely.

Having won the coin toss, I decided we should sample some authentic Chinese food in San Francisco’s most authentic Chinatown. We hadn’t eaten all day, so we dug in and were able to relax. It might have been a nice little outing to relieve all the stress of Jas’ marriage, I mean bonding, proposal. That might have been the more favorable outcome, but unfortunately as we left, I looked past Jas and down the adjoining alley that ran along the street. A young girl was being accosted by a very large, very capable looking man.

I raced down the alley, taking in the details of the man as the night receded from my eyes and the world became sharp and defined. He was at least six foot five, with charcoal-colored skin and deep-set eyes that looked accustomed to cruelty and took enjoyment in inflicting it. His unshaven face spoke volumes about the state of disrepair that his clothes also displayed. He was a thug, pure and simple, and he saw easy pickings when the adolescent showed up alone and lost. From that point, it was a piece of cake to menace a child of her age down the alley and away from prying eyes. It hardly made a difference, as people these days were as likely to turn away from someone else’s plight as to provide assistance.

My rage was sufficient that all coherent thought fled my awareness. Some suggest that rage cleanses the mind and provides a person with strength to proceed past their normal limits. My take on the matter of rage is that it neither refines your actions nor puts your body at a standstill and makes you incapable of action. It’s more of a happy, or rather, infernal medium. No, you won’t gain inhuman strength, but you will be protected from most pain for as long as your fury holds out.

So, as I closed in on a helpless girl who was being accosted by a vicious brute of a man, lightning crackled around me on display like mini fireworks. Even though anyone happening upon the alleyway would witness lightning raging around a teen in a torrential thunderstorm from hell, I couldn’t bring myself to give a damn. There was something inside me that broke under the pressure of my illustrious past when I saw children unable to protect themselves, being accosted by those who preyed on the weak and weary. I hurled a punch brimming with lightning to the floating ribs of Brute, as I classified him mentally, before he had two seconds to register my presence. He tumbled like a ragdoll to the ground, motionless, no doubt feeling the power of my little lightning pals rushing through his body.

When semi-practical thought filtered through the ‘noggin, I realized that a little girl who was almost
somethinged
would have seen a raging maniac surrounded in lightning lay down her accoster with a single super-powered punch. Most children wouldn’t react well to that kind of thing. My reaction was to look over where I thought I saw when running down the blind alley. But there was no little girl standing where there should obviously have been a
damn
little girl. There was but a momentary glimpse of startling beauty that had no place in this world before a womanish figure disappeared in blinding light that my eyes could not pierce. Light seared itself into my skull, and I closed my eyes, swaying slightly from disorientation. That was not a helpless bystander that required my assistance. I had been tricked.

I put my back against a grime-coated wall and slid down. My vision was blurry, and it took me a moment to realize that it wasn’t from any leftover rage. Reaching downwards, I felt for the liquid fire that was burning through my abdomen. Poking out of my skin was the black handle of a switchblade. Blood oozed past its metal surface and soaked into my shirt, trickling down my side and continuing its gradual descent as gravity dictated. For what seemed an eternity, I merely stared at the blade sticking out of my side, utterly perplexed. And then Jas was there.

He looked around, surveying the knife, the blood, and Brute lying motionless on the ground. “Shit.”

My last memory before the darkness embraced me was Jas’ blue eyes resting concernedly upon me as he spoke into his phone.

I
awoke with a hoarse throat, a pounding head, and swirling lights encompassing the whole of my vision. And, for a time, I forced myself to lie completely still, battling the raging surf that was my discomfort until it receded to a bearable level. These frequent blackouts were becoming increasingly frustrating, causing me to miss all the important bits, if something interesting did indeed occur. I levered myself into a sitting position with exquisite slowness, opening my eyes in the process.

“
And he joins the world of the living once more
;
we are humbled by his mighty presence
.” Jeeves seemed in an uncharacteristically good temper, most likely because I shared his pain.

That reminded me of the knife wound in my side. At some point someone had taken off my shirt, but had left on my shorts, thank god. With deliberate care my hand traveled down to where the gash in my abdomen resided. Wincing as I came upon it, I walled off the burning sensation to afford a look-see. Instead of a puncture wound, however, my eyes confronted a healthy helping of gauze and medical tape. Furrowing my eyebrows, I wished them away, to reveal what was underneath. When that didn’t work as expected, I was forced to take it off with fingers made weak by an incessant throbbing. Where were the pain meds when you really needed them?

Someone probably put them just out of reach of my hand on a dresser so that I’d never be able to get them myself. I checked the surface of the dresser on the left-hand side of the king size bed where they had propped me up. What hellion would do such a thing to a human being? I bemoaned my fate for a time before my mind was taken back to the wound in my side.

I was insanely lucky the switchblade hadn’t torn open my intestines. That would have been a messy sight and would have surely killed me just as well if I couldn’t procure medical assistance in a timely fashion. As it was, although my parted skin was angry and red, it was free of infection and well on its way to being healed. Another illustration of my healing abilities, it seemed.