Vintage Soul Part 9

"You sure these things will work?" he asked.

Kali shrugged. "How would I know? He said they would. Why would he lie?"

Vein shrugged and opened his door, stepping out onto the sidewalk. It didn't matter. They were committed, and he, for one, was going to see it through to the end, even if the d.a.m.ned amulets didn't work. He'd been sitting long enough; it was time for some action. He slipped his sungla.s.ses on, and a moment later the others had gathered around him. They stood and stared up at the huge, looming structure, then started walking toward it as a group.

Vein and Kali took the lead. Behind them the other three lined up. Pierce had been unable to join them a he'd been the in the alley with Vein, and had not been back around since the attack. His absence was another thing to be dealt with at a later time. Kali more than made up the difference. Bruno walked directly behind Vein, and beside him was a thin kid they called Shade. On the far side, tall and lanky, walked the oldest of them next to Vein. His name was Robert, but they called him bones.

Vein didn't like using the names they'd been born with. They were so much more than they'd been, why cheapen that with an outdated label? Of course, the elders disapproved, but they generally disapproved of everything Vein and his friends attempted or suggested, so the names stuck, and none of them answered to anything else. Vein wondered if Pierce had gone back to being "Darren Pierce" already, or if they could drag him back into the fold.

They entered the lobby of the Tefft Complex and headed straight for the elevators. There were security guards, but Vein gave them no chance to act. They stepped into the first elevator and Kali pushed the up arrow. The doors were closing before the first of the guards got the courage to press off the wall he was leaning on. Too late.

Once they'd left the first floor behind, Vein wasted no time. He nodded, and Kali poked the STOP b.u.t.ton. There was a trap door in the top of the elevator car, and Bruno had it open in seconds.

"Up, and to the right," Vein said. There should be a short tunnel, and on the far side of that there's a maintenance ladder leading down between the shafts."

Bruno nodded, levered himself up and through the hole, and was gone. Bones and Shade followed. Kali met Vein's gaze for a moment, searched his cold features for something, found it, and disappeared upward like a wraith. Vein pushed the up b.u.t.ton, leaped, and was through the door before the machinery ground into motion. He found the small maintenance tunnel, pulled himself inside, and crawled quickly through. The ladder was right where he'd expected it to be, and he dropped the six feet to the floor of the darkened pa.s.sage without a sound. They stood in the darkness and glanced both directions down the corridor. The walls thrummed as the elevators rose and fell steadily; gears caught smoothly, cables spun on huge, greased pulleys.

"Come on," Vein said, heading off to the right. "We were in the first public shaft, so the next one over should be one of the two private lifts."

They moved quickly. The darkness was no hindrance, but the further they moved from that public elevator shaft, the more the awareness of what they were about to attempt hit home. They had no way to know what kind of security awaited them, or how effective the charms they'd purchased might prove. There was no time to worry over it now, if they'd been detected, there was no sign of it.

They came to another wall, and Bruno heaved himself up the side.

"There's another short shaft," he reported, "like the other one."

He disappeared into it without waiting for the others, and they scaled the wall and followed. The far side opened into another elevator shaft, and a quick glance up and down showed that the elevator, currently, was on the ground floor. It was impossible to tell where the exit might lead without crossing the shaft and looking for another way out, but Vein wasn't interested.

He pulled the blood crystal out from beneath his s.h.i.+ft.

"Kali, would you do the honors?" he held out his arm to her, wrist up. She didn't glance down at it. Instead, she met his gaze steadily. As she did so, her hand shot out and her nail opened a small cut in the skin of his forearm. She missed the vein by less than an inch. He didn't flinch. Quickly, he held the cut over the crystal. Vein shook his arm; a single drop of blood seeped out before his skin could close and heal over it. The blood fell across the surface of the crystal and spread.

The effect was instantaneous, and eerie. None of them had ever seen one used before, though all of them were familiar with the concept. The crystals were rare, and expensive, and usually they were only employed in the "Blood Hunt," the quest to find the one who'd brought you to the blood and kill him or her for the act. Kali watched with particular interest.

The blood spread out in a smoky haze. Though they had clearly seen the drop fall onto the crystal, it didn't seem to have actually touched the surface. It formed a coating, iridescent and pulsing, and when the coating was complete, Vein released it. Instead of dropping to his chest, hit hung very still, floating in the air, then, almost lazily, the tip rose, pointing almost straight up the shaft of the elevator.

"Let's go," Vein said. He grabbed the wall of the elevator shaft and began his ascent, climbing in quick, graceful bursts like some sort of human spider. The others fanned out and followed, ringing the shaft and coming up level so that they climbed as a unit. None of them wanted to slip, or to be left behind, and if there was an attack, they had a better chance in a group where they couldn't be picked off individually.

It became clear early on that there was a significant difference between this shaft and the public elevators. Though they climbed for what seemed an eternity, they pa.s.sed only two doors. Each time they came level with one, Vein hesitated, and glanced down at the crystal, but it never wavered. It was pointed up, and he knew they were going to have to go all the way, nearly forty stories up, before they found what they sought.

They climbed in silence, and in a remarkably short time, the group of them clung in a tight semi-circle by the final door. The blood crystal stretched out from Vein's neck, pointing not quite straight ahead, but almost. It angled to the left a little, and Vein noted this, then turned to Bruno and nodded.

Bruno climbed a bit higher, found two support beams to lodge his booted feet in, and dangled in front of the door. He slid his fingers into the crack in the center of that door, and with a single swift motion, he dragged it open. There was no time to hesitate. Vein swung through, and the other followed in a dark cloud. When all but Bruno had entered, Bones knelt and held the door, Bruno swung in over his head. Bones let the doors close with a soft snick, and they stood very still.

They were in a corridor that curved out and around in both directions, stretching back toward the outer south wall. The crystal swung to the left at about a forty-five degree angle, pointing off through the wall in front of them.

Vein turned left and followed the direction the crystal pointed, moving swiftly and keeping low. The others spread out, making as many separate targets as possible. Bones watched behind them for anyone, or thing, that might be following or trying to sneak up on them. They were out of sight of the elevator before they saw the first door.

Vein held up hand to caution the others and watched the crystal carefully. It still pointed further around the curving hallway. It was possible they could go through the room ahead to get to where Vanessa was held, but it seemed more likely there was another door. Vein slipped past the first silently, and the others followed. He rounded another bend. There were two remaining doorways. One was at the very end of the hall, flat against the wall, and the other, like the first they'd encountered, was on the right hand wall. Vein stepped up to this one, and the crystal tugged him closer, pointing dead center at the wooden door.

He glanced at Kali, then at the others.

"This is it," he said.

He tried the k.n.o.b. It was unlocked, and he turned it slowly. They waited. When there was no sound, he pushed gently, and the door swung open. The hinges were well-oiled, and there was no sound. The room was almost bare. They stepped inside and stopped at the sight that met their eyes.

Vanessa hung from the wall. Her wrists and ankles were chained, and the chains disappeared into recesses in the stone face behind her, holding her tightly. Her eyes were wild, and despite the futility of it, she struggled crazily. Vein took a step forward and she tried to scream, but she was gagged, and they heard only a m.u.f.fled shriek. Too late, Vein caught the angle of her gaze, and realized she wasn't staring at him.

He whirled and cried out. The others spread, but it was too late. There was a blinding flare of light, like what they'd experienced in the alleyway, but intensified. Vein tried to dive forward but was driven back hard. He crashed into the wall beside where Vanessa hung, and the light pinned him there. He clawed at it feebly, the strength melting from his limbs as heat rose so quickly, and so intensely, that it threatened to consume him in a sudden blaze.

He could not see their attacker. He tried to reach for Vanessa, but could barely lift his leaden arms. Then, with a soft, futile snarl, he fell forward on the cold stone and pa.s.sed from thought.

Vein woke to pain, but he shrugged it off. He was in a small room of some sort, and he stood carefully. Nothing was broken, or, if anything had broken, he had healed. He didn't have any idea how long he'd been out. The others lay in jumbled heaps around him. Only Kali was on her feet, gazing at him levelly, and waiting.

"Where are we," he asked.

Kali shrugged. "Wherever he put us."

The others began to stir. Vein glanced down and saw that the blood crystal was still hanging about his neck. There was a soft laugh, and Vein spun, trying to find the source. A moment later he realized he wasn't in a room at all. It was an elevator. He slammed up to the ceiling, but found no trap door. He tried the walls, one after the other, but despite several attempts, each harder than the last, he was unable to bend, break, or open them.

"You won't get out that easily," a voice said softly.

Vein stilled himself, fought back the panic that threatened to rise, and stood in the center of the elevator.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"I didn't want anything from you," the voice replied, "though I'll admit it was entertaining. Vanessa is quite concerned for your welfare. It's very touching, and it gives me an edge, don't you think?"

Vein quelled the urge to smack into one of the walls again.

"This is a very unique elevator," the voice continued. "It's built into the back wall of the building. Most of the time I keep it hidden from the world, but sometimes, well, I'm a bit romantic, I suppose. The wall behind you opens to a very solid window a about two feet thick, I believe, and reinforced with a silver mesh. It's not quite as effective as if it were the east side of the building, but eventually the sun touches everything, doesn't it Vein?"

The wall slid slowly open, and they had a clear view of the dark, star-studded sky beyond the complex.

"How long do you think it will take," the voice asked with a soft, insane chuckle, "for all of you to become ash? I have a theory. I'm betting that it will take less time than it takes for that elevator to reach the ground, with the noon-time sun beating down on it. Not that it matters. The doors are charmed, and you won't be able to open them, so if you manage to survive to reach the bottom, you'll be dust before anyone gets you out. You can rest a.s.sured on that point."

Vein wasn't really listening. He was studying the gla.s.s. He saw the tiny silver threads woven into the gla.s.s. He thought about those slicing skin as the gla.s.s shattered, shredding his flesh like a cheese grater from h.e.l.l.

"What do you want?" he repeated.

"I have everything I want, Vein. Now I don't have to worry about you taking it."

There was another whir, and the wall opposite the window slid aside to reveal another gla.s.s part.i.tion. This one looked out into the pa.s.sageway they'd walked through moments before. On the other side, a man stood, gazing in at them with a lopsided grin on his face.

Kali slammed into the door with such sudden force and anger that Vein was sure it would shatter, and she would be shredded, but the gla.s.s held.

"You!" she screamed.

Their captor laughed, turned, and walked away.

FOURTEEN.

It was just growing dark when Donovan slipped back into the alley outside Club Chaos and entered the phone booth. He dialed the code and moments later stepped into The Crossroads, glancing to his right, and to his left as he entered. He didn't really fear trouble inside the bar, but he didn't want any more surprises.

He'd come equipped for just about anything. Charms and pendants dangled beneath his dark s.h.i.+rt, and he had several objects of power tucked into the various folds and pockets of his jacket. It really wasn't cold enough for a jacket a it was warm most of the year in San Valencez a but unless he intended to play super hero and wear a utility belt, he needed the extra storage. Many of the patrons of Club Chaos wore jackets, trench coats, or cloaks, so no one paid any attention as he stepped to the bar and took a seat.

There was only one other customer along the length of polished wood. The seer seemed to have found somewhere more interesting to ply her trade. Jasper Windham sat hunched over the polished bar with his long, cadaverous fingers wrapped around the base of a large gla.s.s tumbler. Amber liquid glinted through the gla.s.s, and when he turned to acknowledge Donovan's arrival, gla.s.s clinked.

Donovan didn't speak immediately. Though it was not going to slip past prying eyes that he was meeting with a collector, he didn't see any reason to be more obvious than necessary. He sat down, caught the bartender's attention, and ordered a brandy. When he had his drink, he took a sip, and then turned to Windham.

"The offer is still open?" he asked. "You're sure?"

Windham nodded. Then he turned and met Donovan's gaze. "There are others in the game now. That's what he told me, anyway. He wouldn't give out names, and I think he's just telling tales to convince me to hurry and get what he wants, but he's spreading the rumor that at least three others are considering his offer. If he's telling the truth, and one of them gets to that grave first..."

"I understand," Donovan said. "Do you know who these others are?"

"I'm not sure I believe any others are involved," Windham replied. "If they are, then locally we have Craven and Gavin. Besides me, they are the only two I'm aware of who would have the necessary equipment and talent to pull it off. There are others who might try, but they'd either destroy the item in question, or get themselves destroyed in the process. It doesn't seem likely this would be trusted to anyone less than reliable."

"Have you contacted them?" Donovan asked.

"We aren't in the habit of sharing information among ourselves," Windham said. He laughed then, a cold, thin, raspy sound that rattled in his throat and reminded Donovan of dried leaves blowing in a frigid wind.

"I should have guessed," he said, taking another sip of his drink.

Windham glanced at him again. "You sure you're up to this? Maybe that dust is safer right where it is, if you know what I mean."

"I have an a.s.signment," Donovan replied. "It's important."

"Rumor has it," Windham continued, returning his gaze to his drink and twirling the nearly empty gla.s.s in slow circles, "that you're after Johndrow's woman. Are you working for the Elders again, DeChance?"

"Don't believe everything you hear," Donovan replied, wondering if Vein and his cronies had been nosing about and giving away too much information.

"Makes no difference to me, either way," Windham replied. "It's just this; I don't think it would be good for any of us if that bone marrow dust gets into the wrong hands. I told you there are three of us who could get it, but none of us has. There are other rumors. I hear things about journals, and formulas that should never have been written down in the first place, and I worry."

"I'll get the dust," Donovan said, taking a longer drink. "Don't worry about that. "I won't lose it once I have it, either. I've already had something of mine taken, and I intend to get that back as well. Did you bring what I asked?"

The collector nodded. He took another sip of his drink, hesitated, and then he reached into a deep pocket and pulled out a small amulet dangling from a silver chain. He held it out to Donovan as if reluctant to release it.

"What is it?" Donovan asked.

"It's charmed," Windham answered. Then he shrugged. "I don't know exactly what it does. The only way to contact the buyer once you have what he's looking for is for that amulet to touch the dust. Once the object is verified, the information on delivery and payment will be made available."

Donovan stared at the small pendant. He considered taking it back to his apartment and testing it to see if he could break the charm. If the information he needed was already in his hand, it seemed foolish to take the added risk of breaking into a graveyard.

"I don't think I'd try that, if I were you," Windham said, guessing his thoughts. "I've seen one of these before, or something very much like it. It was a different time and place, but a similar charm. A collector that I knew tried to have the charm broken because he wanted to know who he was working for. He took it to a man trained in such things. When they broke the charm, they found a curse beneath it. Very nasty, that was."

Windham didn't have to go on. In such an instance, there would be no time to protect one's self, or, even if you did find a way to do so, no way to prevent whatever other action the curse might entail. It wasn't a chance Donovan wanted to take.

"Just touch that to the dust," Windham repeated. "You'll know what to do next."

Donovan nodded. He tucked the amulet away in an inside pocket, and stood, draining his gla.s.s and wis.h.i.+ng suddenly he had time for more than one. A bottle, maybe.

He pulled out his wallet and laid a bill on the table. In that same motion, he deposited an envelope in Windham's lap. Again, no one was watching, and if they had been watching, they would have expected to see money change hands. Donovan had been known to use collectors in the past, and everyone was familiar with Windham. Still, Donovan erred on the side of caution. He turned and exited the bar without another word. He reached the street and headed east. The Shady Grove cemetery was outside of town at the halfway point between San Valencez and Lavender, California. It was several miles, and he had no time to make it on foot, but there were other ways.

He checked the street for prying eyes, found it vacant, and stopped in front of a dark stairway leading down from street level toward a brick wall. There was no apparent reason for this stairway, but he knew it well. He turned three times, took three steps down, climbed back two, and then descended. At the wall he stopped, and a door s.h.i.+mmered into view. He etched a symbol into the dust clotted on the gla.s.s pane that centered this door, and it opened with a mechanical sound reminiscent of large tumblers sliding into place a very large. The sound echoed. Donovan stepped through the doorway, and was gone. Where he'd pa.s.sed, the brick wall stood solid, and grimy.

Johndrow listened as the phone rang for the tenth time, and then slowly lowered the receiver back into its cradle. It was his third attempt in as many minutes to reach DeChance. He wanted an update on Vanessa's abduction, and he wanted to warn DeChance about Vein. Ever since the hotheaded young one had left, Johndrow had grown more and more certain he'd made a mistake in allowing it. He wanted to believe that all parties involved would keep Vanessa's welfare in the forefront of their minds, but it was growing harder to believe it as true. He also wanted to feel as if he was a part of it all, as if he were doing more than sitting back on his heels and waiting while others fought his fight.

He knew Vein hadn't been swayed by their talk, and in reality, he was glad the young ones had gone on the hunt; just sorry they'd gone alone. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was just getting old and complacent, and they didn't need outside a.s.sistance to settle a matter like this. The blood bond was strong enough that Vein could probably track it to its source, and they were not without resources of their own, albeit darker and less magical in most cases than what DeChance offered.

He thought about calling Joel, but decided against it. There was nothing either of them could do, and if he got started talking about Vanessa he might never stop. He needed to keep his head clear, and he needed to be ready to act if the need arose. Until then, he needed to be able to do something much more difficult. He needed to wait.

A knock sounded lightly on his door.

"Enter," he called out.

A thin young man stepped through the door. He kept his eyes downcast, but his voice was firm.

"There is a message for you, sir," he said.

"Send them in," Johndrow said.

"There is no messenger," the young man replied. "Only this."

He held out a dark bundle, and Johndrow, frowning, nodded toward his desk.

"Open it on there," he said.

The young man complied, and they both stared. What hope Johndrow had faded, and he drew in his breath so sharply it sounded like a hiss.

On his desk, wrapped in a long, dark jacket, were five pairs of very dark sungla.s.ses. Johndrow stepped forward, reached out, and then pulled his hand back. He didn't need to touch them; he knew who had worn them last.

"Who brought these?" he asked sharply.

"It wasn't a man, or a woman," the boy replied. "The bundle was dropped from the eaves by a bird. A raven, I believe. When we retrieved it, it was tied with a red ribbon, and this note was attached."

He held out a white note-card sized piece of paper, and Johndrow took it, flipping it over so that he could read the single word lettered across its back.

"Johndrow."