Stained Glass

Chapter 9

The room beyond looked like a well-managed squat, clean but improvised. I entered into a cloud of mingled cigarette and pipe smoke and a murmur of conversation, which died abruptly as Zane stepped in behind me and closed the door. Talya was there, dressed down in a t-shirt and blue jeans, along with an odd assortment of people who gathered around on sofas and armchairs, dining chairs and bean-bags. By clothing and disposition, I was able to roughly divide the room into four. The Twin Tigers crew were obvious enough in their black leather and denim uniforms. Facing them were a rag-tag collection of suburbanites and cubicle farmers, people who looked as uncomfortable here as I felt. A pair of intense men in different gang colors to the Tigers occupied a small sofa together.

On the Tigers’ side, I caught the eye of an older Asian woman in a spiked and armored leather jacket that looked like it had come off a Mad Max film set. She leaned nonchalantly against the wall beside a sinewy, tense-looking crewcut bruiser, a man who looked equal part Bruce Willis and Stallone. His hair was graying at the temples, but he had a muscular soldier’s build, that peculiar lock-jawed toughness that only came from protracted military service. Flanking them was a sly, button-faced Latino man with very strong cheekbones and a very weak chin. The President, his old lady, and the Captain, I assumed.

The two plainclothes cops sat apart from the rest. The Chaplain was a fit, handsome, hard-planed man with a thin moustache, smiling as he rubbed his thumb over his ring finger. Beside him, a powerfully built black woman lounged in a crisp skirtsuit and open-collared white shirt, her hair a short fall of neat rope braids bound back in a high ponytail. She was effortlessly charismatic, with the air of royalty. The Vigiles Agent, I was willing to bet.

The nervous norms were positioned around the largest armchair, where a small, tawny-skinned man in a cream and white suit was smoking a pipe, one ankle crossed over the other knee. He could have been fifty-six or six hundred: ageless, narrow-jawed, hook-nosed, with small eyes and big lips. He was not attractive, but he commanded his space with the confidence of a leader. As we entered, he looked up at us, but said nothing.

Talya stood up from her beanbag as silence thickened the small room. She had changed out of her work clothes, but neither she or the man in the big armchair fitted the biker clubhouse vibe. “Rex! You came!”

“I wouldn’t refuse your call, skvorets.” When she came up to us, I patted her arm and kissed her politely on the cheek. Other Slavs thought my greetings cold and impersonal, so brief as to be rude, but our apparent intimacy made a few of the others in the room sit up uncomfortably. Talya was more demonstrative towards Zane. She hugged him, and he hugged her back hard enough to pick her up off the floor.

“Hey kitten,” he said. There was real affection in his voice.

I looked back to the biker crew. The Asian woman in the heavy jacket had stood up from the wall. She was tiny but whip-strung, her dark eyes burning with frenetic energy. Her dry chopped hair and bony hands reminded me of Vera, and a nasty knot formed in the pit of my belly.

“So, now we are all accounted for.” The man in the armchair spoke up. “Talya, Zane. Can you introduce us?”

In the pause that followed, one of the young gang-bangers rose to his feet. He was a strikingly handsome man, his skin so dark that it caught white and blue highlights. His hair was braided in tight cornrows, and his voice was surprisingly soft and melodic. “I am Michael and this is Karim. We are Elders of the Pathrunners. I am here to arbitrate this meeting.”

Talya bobbed her head anxiously as Michael sat down. “So, yes… Rex is the man who did me the reading. Rex, this is John Spotted Elk, head of the Four Fires Community,” Talya motioned to the man in the armchair, who lifted a hand in greeting. “And this is Jenner, the Twin Tigers—”

“Twin Tigers Motorcycle Club President,” the woman in the spiked jacket interrupted her, pushing off from the wall. Her voice was hard, loud, with a strong Californian accent. She strode over to me, extending a hand. “Jenny Tran, but call me Jenner. Nice to meet you, Rex. This here is my Road Captain, Mason, and my other Sarge, Duke. You already met Zane.”

“I have.” I shook, and found she had a pleasantly strong, confident grip. Something here was odd. A female leader in the biker community wasn’t just rare: it was impossible. With the exception of lesbian separatists, motorcycle clubs were notoriously sexist.

I swept back over the room, settling on the pair of cops. They didn’t look nearly as happy to see me. “Thank you. I admit I wasn’t expecting a convocation.”

An uncomfortable pause followed. Then Talya spoke up, her voice high and over-bright. “So, that’s all I had to contribute to this tonight. Rex is a sorcerer, maybe. Any questions?”

“Many,” I replied.

“No doubt. Let me start with one, Rex.” The man she had introduced as head of the Four Fires, whatever that was, waved his hand like a magician. John Spotted Elk was a little effete, I thought, as unlikely a leader as Jenny Tran. His body was soft, his voice was reedy, a little too high-pitched for synesthetic comfort, and heavily accented. He was nut-brown and had the kind of stereotypically hawkish face I associated with Plains Indians. His accent wasn’t like any accent I’d ever heard before, almost affected. “You may be a street mage… but are you a Phitometrist?”

A small thrill passed down the back of my neck, and I turned to face him. “Yes.”

“Do you know what that means?” He arched an eyebrow.

“A mage who has undergone Shevirah,” I replied. “Though your terminology may vary, Mister Spotted-Elk.”

He laughed. “Either call me John or call me Spotted Elk. I get enough Mister-this and Mister-that at the museum. Your answer’s good, though. What does he know about our dilemma already, Talya?”

“Hardly anything,” Talya replied. She was fidgeting, still standing close to Zane. “I didn’t think you’d, ah, want me to say anything much.”

“Yes, so it would be very nice if you could enlighten me.” My accent bled through again. With nothing but natural light to guide my cycles and far less coffee than what I’d drunk at home, I was used to sleeping with the sunset and rising with the dawn. It was way past bed time.

“Wait.” The black woman leaned forwards, hands planted palm-down on her open knees. “John, we agreed to screen an operative together. Who the fuck is this guy?”

“’This guy’ has a name.” I crossed my arms and looked back at her. “And is listening to you talk about him like he’s not here.”

Spotted Elk sighed. “Ayashe—”

“We agreed to hire a freelancer, not someone one of our youngest decided to pull off the street. I want references.” Ayashe thrust her jaw out as she spoke. This lady had a mean, dark eye.

“Sure thing. The last guy we chose by committee did just great,” Mason said. His voice was deep and raspy. “The one that fucking disappeared.”

Ayashe’s flare faded into sullen embers. She sat back, scowling. Mason and Jenner both smirked, squinting their eyes like smug cats. Wonderful. They couldn’t even agree amongst themselves.

“Everyone, please,” Michael said.

I crossed my arms, and jerked my head towards the door. “Look. I didn’t come here to be kicked around like a football. Either you people give me the short of it, or I’m walking out of here.”

Spotted Elk held up a hand before anyone else could say anything. The room simmered down to a reluctant silence. “Rex, did you read about the Wolf Grove Group Home in the papers? Two murders and a mass kidnapping, nearly two weeks ago to the day. The eighth, to be precise.”

I had read about it, in passing, on my daily scrounged copy of the Times. Even by New York standards, it had been a big deal: a wealthy couple murdered in their beds up in the nice part of north New York, and all the children at the home were unaccounted for. It hadn’t meant much to me at the time. “I remember.”

“Mmph.” Spotted Elk drew on his pipe. “Wolf Grove was run by Dru and Lily Ross. They were esteemed and valued members of our communities, and united us across our various cultural, ethical and moral divisions. I suppose you wonder exactly what it is we do?”

“I know what bikers do,” I replied. “And I know what goes on in museums and police stations, but I’m more wondering what you all are.”

The small sounds of the room quieted, like spooked birds falling still in a forest clearing. Jenner glanced at Mason, then at Zane. He shrugged.

Spotted Elk raised a brow. “Was that a guess or an inference?”

“A deduction. Phitometry isn’t a word I often hear thrown around. I didn’t know anything about it until I met something very personal and very ancient.” Tiny details of Spotted Elk’s body language fit together into a strange whole. His nostrils were flaring like a deer’s. His neck was long and slender, and there was something in his mannerisms that made my teeth ache and my mouth water. Strange feelings to have, in the presence of a man one has only just met… but then again, I hadn’t killed anyone for a while.

“Fair enough.” Spotted Elk spread his hands. “I’ll come clean, ay? We’re shapeshifters. Every man and woman in this room, save for Aaron.”

His flippant reveal hung over the room for a moment. Talya cleared her throat in the silence.

“I see,” I replied, after a few seconds of digestion. “As in, werewolves?”

A few people grimaced in distaste, except for Jenner and Duke. They grinned.

“The wolves are not here tonight. This murdered couple, they were from our circle. They were Pathrunners.” Karim spoke up this time, a proud cant to his head and an arrogant look in his heavy-lidded eyes. He had a strong French accent, clay-brown skin, and designs shaved into his hair and through the thick stubble on his cheeks.

“You make it sound more significant than I understand it to be.” I turned to look at them both – really look at them. Maybe it was my own ideas about what a shapeshifter should be, but I was searching for the animal in each of them now.

“Pathrunners are the keepers of law in our communities,” Michael said. “Our members are the rats, raccoons, birds, and other small animals… those who live quickly and die often. Our Ka run ahead to guide all other creatures, learning much from each brief lifetime.”

“I don’t know anything about your Art or your traditions,” I said. “So start from the beginning.”

“We will not give you much,” Michael replied. “Our laws are our own.”

“We’re not Phitometrists, if that’s what you mean,” Spotted Elk said. “Weeders – shapeshifters – have a human face and an animal face. Ib and Ka-Bah, to borrow the Pathrunners’ preferred Egyptian terms. Human heart and body, animal soul. Two sides of a coin.”

“The human changes,” Karim said. “The animal remains the same from life to life. It is not the human who turns into the Ka. The Ka takes human form.”

There was a brooding heaviness over the room as these men spoke. I had the distinct impression that if I rejected this knowledge, the lot of them weren’t going to let me out of the room alive. I doubted anyone would find the body.

“Our children are born at random,” Spotted Elk said. “Across cultures and states, often to families who don’t understand them. There are different… approaches to the way we live our lives. The Pathrunners are our law-givers, and they arbitrate between our communities and gangs and packs. They find and gather children, raise them in the understanding of our ways, and then the children decide where their hearts lie. Some of them join outlaws like Jenner and Mason. Some of them join wolf packs, or lion prides, or flocks. Others throw in their lot with the likes of me when they come of age.”

“Some of them change their minds.” A young man with a chicken neck and a beaky, pointed face muttered, glancing at Talya. She was still pressed against Zane’s arm. If anyone else heard, there was no sign of it.

“So the murdered couple and the missing kids were all shapeshifters?” The surrounding threat was palpable, but dangerous knowledge and interesting knowledge were often the same thing. “I thought the government was rounding up all the supernatural elements nowadays.”

“’Rounding up’ isn’t the point,” Ayashe said. “The Vigiles is trying to bring supernatural elements under law. Wolf Grove worked with the NYPD and the Northern Supernatural Support Unit. Pastor Aaron here is the SSU chaplain and caseworker for magically gifted kids. I’m supporting the Unit as a specialist in shapeshifters, part of the deal I negotiated with them when the Vigiles was formed. The Jammies and Blanks were… are all registered for adoption and training. The Weeder kids are in the system, but they have to be of age to choose their affiliation. A few of them stay here, but Lily and Dru send them to a school in Texas and a lot of them end up living there by choice. We have to let them decide. That’s the tradition and the law.”

“Jammies?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Children with magical potential.” The Chaplain added. “As in, they’re still sleeping… and so they’re in their pajamas.”

“So what you’re saying is that these missing children were part of a tag and release program.” The nape of my neck crawled. I had been born before the Vigiles, in a time when the only special interest groups for magi had been the various organized religions, a range of secret societies, and the street. As of 1985, they’d begun screening kids reported to churches and doctors for the common signs of magical talent. Poltergeist activity, apparent possession, talking to ghosts, minor psychokinetics, injured pets spontaneously healing or reviving. Back in the day, they called those miracles or hauntings. Now, the government was hunting for it. Where the children went… who knew?

Ayashe sighed. “If you want to get cynical about it. The two adults are dead and twenty-one kids are missing. Of those, fifteen of them were Weeder kids. The other six… two Blanks, four Jammies.”

“Right.” I rubbed my jaw, scruffing the palm of my glove over the stubble. “It is safe to assume the police are handling the murder.”

“They’re trying, but this is way over the head of the local SSU.” Ayashe said. She sounded tired now, a little guttural. Somehow, I doubted she got much sleep. “Even with the V.M. on site, it’s not going anywhere. We know that someone somehow managed to pull off a mass kidnapping and a double murder and get away clean. There’s no physical evidence we can use beyond some basic shit. Besides some drawings and weird symbols, there wasn’t any arcane evidence left behind. The NYPD went stomping around in the house and shifted anything that might have been useful to our medium. She didn’t find no resonance, no tracers, no nothing.”

“Why do you think a Spook can do anything that the police can’t?”

“There were occult elements to the murders,” Spotted Elk replied. “The murderer… took some things. There were some demonic symbols left in the house, acts of blasphemy and desecration. Lily and Dru were both religious people. Devout, modest people. That’s what brought them together in the first place, and that’s why we and all the other stakeholders of New York agreed to let them care for our young.”

I had visions of a church home where these elders and gang-leaders went to fish for recruits. Maybe it was good, maybe it wasn’t, but the whole thing made my skin crawl. “You said the murderer took some things. What did they steal?”

An uncomfortable silence hung over the room until Ayashe finally spoke. “Body parts.”

I rubbed my face again, frustrated. Even with open questions, it was like wringing blood from a stone. “Right. And what kinds of animal did they transform into?”

Jenner laughed, harsh and crow-like. Talya grimaced. Zane’s face froze into a pleasant mask. I’d stepped on a landmine.

“That is a vulgar question,” Michael said. “All matters related to the Ka are private unless the person desires to share it. Even the dead.”

“It’s important to know.” I jerked my shoulders, trying and failing to read faces. “The organs and body parts of various animals are used in specific magic rituals. If I know what animals we are talking about, then I can probably tell you more about who would have done this.”

Jenner didn’t seem to be nearly as annoyed as the rest of them. She planted her hands on her hips. “What kind of magic?”

“Magic like the rituals in the Liber Virtutis Animalium,” I said, focusing on her. “A lot of medieval spells used the body parts of particular animals for various things. The hearts of dogs were used in love spells, bulls’ hearts were used to gain strength. This kind of magic was popular in esoteric Church rituals. Catholic and Protestant.”

Aaron shifted in place, but he didn’t deny it.

I continued on. “Different organs have different applications, so if I knew what their alternate forms were…”

“Fair enough.” Even Spotted Elk sounded a little stiff. “Michael? Karim?”

“Lily was Hyena.” Michael grunted, after a reluctant pause. “Dru was Hoopoe.”

Oh – now that was interesting. I nodded. “Both hyenas and hoopoes have a powerful connection to medieval church magic. Let me assume that they had taken Lily’s right hand, and Dru’s brain, heart, and blood?”

That made a few people sit up. Michael averted his eyes, as did Aaron. Jenner snorted, a mingled sound of disgust and amusement. One of the nameless silent observers in the Four Fires quarter had gone very pale, and other people had linked their arms around her shoulders. There was a uniform niceness to the people on Spotted Elk’s side… maybe all of them had been rescues at some point in their lives.

Spotted Elk regarded me intently. “Yes. What do you know about this?”

“Hoopoes are one of the most significant birds in the European magical tradition,” I said. “They’ve been used for ritual since Ancient Egyptian times. They were regarded to be king of all birds, and they symbolize virtue. Their organs were used to bind summoned demons. The brain, tongue and blood were particularly valued by medieval sorcerers. Genitalia, especially from men, have always been used for ritual purposes.”

My only answer from the assembled were looks of distaste and disbelief. I cleared my throat.

“One old and prominent spell uses the right paw of a hyena as a talisman,” I continued. “Specifically the right paw. It was believed that anyone carrying a hyena paw charm would be successful in politics, able to sway and convince kings and lords to do their bidding. So if those are what they took from your dead, I can assume that this is someone who is well versed in medieval ritual church magic and the creation of talismans. They must also have known what Lily and Dru could transform into.”

Michael and Karim looked at one another, and then at me. Talya covered her mouth. Spotted Elk sat back, glancing at Ayashe.

“Sometimes it takes an outsider to spot something that’s completely freakin’ obvious,” she said.

“Neither of our Elders were involved in politics,” Michael said. “It is forbidden.”

“They wouldn’t have had to be involved themselves,” I replied. “It’s not their politics that matters: it is the magician’s. The magician turns the body part into a talisman. Are there drawings of the symbols found at the house?”

“We have photos,” Ayashe said. “But what the Vigiles don’t have is resources. The way the government has us set up, we don’t have access to anything that’s actually useful half the time. That’s why we need a Spook, a good Spook. Someone more mobile who can work faster without having to clear a slip for every damn book they borrow from the Masonic vault.”

Someone not placed under the artificial restraints of the law. And someone expendable. I felt a tic form beside my eye. “You said you hired another Spook to look into this before. What did they find out?”

“’Hired’ isn’t the right word. This guy was searching for a missing person, and he was sure that the murders were tied into it,” Ayashe replied. “He tracked down Spotted Elk and me and made the initial contact. Told us that he didn’t want anything up front, just our help.”

“Yes, but what did he find?”

“The last we heard of him was about a week ago.” Ayashe paused for a moment, her frown deepening. “He said he was looking into some human trafficking ring while he investigated the occult leads. He was going to get the info for me, and then I was going to file the report with my boss and see if we couldn’t mobilize an operation. The last thing he went to go do was to visit Lily and Dru’s changing ground. They had—”

“No,” Michael said. “We can compromise on discussing the dead, but I refuse to allow discussion of the changing ground with a stranger.”

“You can’t hide evidence in the course of an investigation,” Ayashe retorted. “I don’t know where it is, anyway. You were the one that told Angkor where it was.”

“Yes,” Michael replied. “I regret my decision.”

My stomach chilled. Human trafficking ring? I only knew of three organizations in New York who dealt in human trafficking. The Triad, the Cartels, and the Yaroshenko Organizatsiya. “Why hasn’t anyone gone there?”

“It is a changing ground,” Michael replied, as if it should be evident. Even though his voice was soft, when he spoke, the room went quiet. “They are absolutely confidential. Only I know where it is, and I made a mistake in telling Angkor where to find it.”

Spotted Elk, Ayashe, and Jenner exchanged glances, and Ayashe spoke for them. “We are concerned that the kids might be killed or trafficked for magical purposes. Angkor didn’t elaborate on what he knew; told us it was speculation until he gathered proper evidence. We… decided to wait until we had something other than hypotheticals.”

They weren’t telling me something about this mess. My instincts were certain of that fact. There was a skeleton in this particular closet. “I’m can probably help you, but I need the case file and photos, and I’m not working for free.”

Ayashe scowled and opened her mouth, only to be waved down by Spotted Elk. His thin face was graven, and it was clear he was tired. Tired of death, tired of talking. “I accept this and vote that you come and assist us. We don’t have a lot of money, but between us, we will do what we can. If you can shed some light on the death of our friends and the abduction of our children, we will pay you proportionately.”

“Me and Mason can front up,” Jenner said. “Rex knows his shit. I vote to take him on.”

“His knowledge is already proving valuable,” Michael said. “I vote the same.”

Ayashe frowned. “I still want some references.”

Jenner chuffed, and waved her down. “What’s the kill fee?”

“For a job as complex as this one, I’ll accept a trade of services from your people in advance of any money.” I faced the Tigers’ President front on. “It’s grunt work. I need to get into my old apartment, retrieve my magical tools, and rescue my cat.”

Both of Jenner’s eyebrows shot up towards her hairline. Zane, standing to the side of me, also turned his face. Ayashe looked up, and her foot stopped twitching.

Now, I had to lie – or at least omit the truth. “I lost everything to some violent squatters who seized my things, including my familiar. It bears some explanation, but I won’t be much help until I have her back.”

“Wait. Seized?” Ayashe leaned forwards. “Who seized the apartment?”

“That is none of your concern.” I rolled my shoulders, jerking them back. “It just needs doing.”

“Who? The bank? The Mafia?”

She was musor. Police garbage. She was the only person in the room I didn’t mind lying to. “I just told you it was none of your business.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Ayashe. Just quit it for one fucking day, will you?” Jenner snapped. “He didn’t ask you shit. I’m down with that trade, Rex. We can handle it.”

“Wait, no. We don’t need no one that comes with baggage.” Ayashe stood, as did several of the Four Fires crowd. “Me and Aaron are putting our jobs on the line just being here. What am I supposed to do? Pretend I don’t hear Jenner talking about breaking into someone’s house? Why didn’t you call the police?”

“It’s my apartment,” I said. “We’re not ‘breaking in’ anywhere. There are people squatting in my home and I need to get my things back.”

“And you want muscle to go kick them out. Illegally.”

“Illegal? Me? We wouldn’t do anything illegal.” Jenner leered, and wiggled her little finger next to her face. “Pinky promise.”

“Are you listening to this? John, come on.” Ayashe threw her hands up.

“You are outvoted,” Michael replied. “It is within our limits. I accept this trade: It is no more difficult or illegal than what we ask this magus to do for us.”

“Ayashe, if human law means more to you than our youth, you are welcome to leave,” John added. “This man has demonstrated knowledge and is willing to make the commitment. His request was given to Jenner, not me, and it is her decision.”

“We don’t know anything about this guy! Where he’s from, what he does…”

“He’s trying to help us!” Talya drew herself up to an imposing five and a half feet, hands fisted by her sides.

“You shut your damn mouth in the presence of your Elders.” Ayashe whirled on her, eyes flashing, and Talya shrank back. “You’re here to listen.”

“Hey. Cool it.” Zane lay a hand on Talya’s bristling shoulder.

“There’s only so far you can push the law, Jenny.” Aaron spoke for the first time since the meeting had started. “And John, same thing goes for you. In my unofficial capacity, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear this. Any trouble that ensues will be on your conscience and your head.”

“The Covenant of Ib-Int is still in effect, like it has been through twenty of my lives,” Jenner snarled. “If the Vigiles is so fucking great, wash your hands of this meeting and I’ll do the work, as usual. The only reason I’m not out there breaking thumbs to find these kids is because of your fucking law.”

Michael held his hands up. “Jenner, Ayashe—”

“The Ib-Int is worthless in the modern era if we can’t live side by side with human law,” Ayashe said, her voice low and cold. “I fought every damn day to protect those kids from the government and the streets. And that’s all I’m here to say. Go do what you want, but if you wind up in a cell, I ain’t helping you.”

“Please, Ayashe. We’re not deliberately discounting you.” Spotted Elk held up a hand again. “We are doing what has to be done. You said it yourself. The Vigiles is not well-resourced enough or flexible enough to help us.”

“No, it’s not.” Fuming, she sat back.

“Bring the photos and the casefile to Rex in the morning.”

“I’m not bringing a classified file—”

“That is an order, Ayashe.” The smaller man’s voice deepened momentarily, and Ayashe snapped her teeth together. “You may disagree with our decision, but you are bound by ties of blood and soul and our ancestral law. You agreed to bring in a freelancer to help where the police cannot. You are outvoted.”

“Fine.” On her feet, Ayashe was nearly six feet tall. She looked fit, too… triathlon-fit. “Now excuse me while I go figure out how not to get caught up the shit that’s about to get flung through the fan.”

No one else had anything to say. As Ayashe stormed from the room, they looked to Aaron. He rose from his seat.

“I’m not one of your membership, but I understand you need to take action,” he said, in a voice that was both remarkably light and remarkably calm. “Just remember that Lily and Dru are gone. It’s the children that matter now. Be careful.”

He left at a more sedate pace than his partner, audibly sighing as he closed the door behind him.

Spotted Elk stood from his chair. He was only an inch taller than me, which put him on the shorter end of the man-scale, but he had striking posture. Straight-backed, long-necked, head lifted and proud, I was strongly reminded of Zarya. It made my mouth water and my stomach pang.

“I want to meet with you alone, Rex,” he said. “When you’re ready, tell Talya that it is time… I will work it in to my schedule in the coming days.”

“As you say.” I inclined my head. As much as Ayashe talked over him, argued and raged, this man had still given the final order and she had still listened. There was something about these group dynamics I didn’t understand… something that was beyond my experience.

“Please let me know what your plans are as you make them. I have to get some sleep, or this week will be unbearable. Well met.” Spotted Elk bowed his head, motioned to Talya and the other Fires people, and left the room.

Talya smiled at me as she moved to follow, and mimed a phone beside her ear with little finger and thumb with a bird-like cock of her head, leaving me alone with four shapeshifting bikers in an otherwise empty room.

“Well, wasn’t that a blast?” Jenner clapped her hands together. “Now that Agent Asshat and Officer Jeebus have left the building, I think it’s time for a drink. You smoke, white boy?”

“Me? No.” The sudden quiet was more than just psychological relief. I felt more at ease around these people: Bikers were just another kind of muzhiki, tough guys, though I had never met a mixed gang with a female leader before. “No smoking, no drinking, no drugs.”

“No joy,” Duke said.

Mason laughed briefly, a warm, deep sound. “Is that why your name’s Rex? Are you a good boy?”

“Perish the thought,” I said.

Jenner flicked a Camel out of her pack, and offered it to Mason. He took it and pulled a banged-up Zippo from his vest pocket. Zane passed on the cigarette when his President did the same for him, a motion as ritualistic as Jenner taking it for herself.

“So,” Jenner said, leaning over so that Mason could light for her. “Give us the real deal. Who are you?”

“I didn’t realize I was so transparent,” I replied.

“I’ve been around the block a few times, Rex.” Jenner leaned back, eyes hooded. “More than a few times. Give it to us straight.”

“As a preface, I ask you give me the benefit of the doubt.” I began to move surreptitiously towards the window. “When I told Zane, and he nearly jumped his skin.”

“Haha, funny,” Zane said.

“Sorry. That wasn’t intentional.” I opened the window. The runners were stiff, and the frame squealed as I let in the fresh air. “My name is Alexi. Alexi Sokolsky, formerly of the Yaroshenko Organizatsiya.”

Jenner drew deeply on her smoke, exhaling out her nose. “The who-in-the-what now?”

“The Russians,” Zane replied. “That Red Hook and Brighton Beach Mob.”

“Ohh.” Jenner’s eyes lit up. “Ohhhh. Well, yeah. Consider my doubt given.”

“What’s your story?” Mason crossed his arms, chewing something on the inside of his lip.

Selling the benefit was hard when you didn’t have any benefits to offer. I hadn’t told them about losing my magic… but then, if I got hold of my tools and a first aid kit, I wouldn’t need to. “I was… this July, there was a murder in our territory, a murder which could have led to a war between us and the Manelli and Laguetta familia. I had to look into the death and also find another missing person. I found out what was going on, but I decided to put the health and safety of the people endangered by these events over my boss’ plans for conquest. He decided I needed a forcible retirement about three, four weeks ago.”

“Right. So was it four or three weeks ago?” Mason asked.

I shot him a dark look. “I’ve been hiding out on the street since I escaped my boss’s torture dungeon. Timekeeping hasn’t been my number one priority.”

“Huh.” Mason looked unconvinced, but he was tuned in to Jenner, and she was unperturbed. Zane was watching me watch them.

“I cruised my apartment last week. It was occupied,” I continued. “They might have someone camped there, waiting for me. But I don’t imagine there are many people by this point. My familiar may be dead, but if nothing else, I can reclaim the tools that will help me do this job for your people.”

Jenner’s nose wrinkled. “You can’t tell if your familiar’s alive or not? No spooky action at a distance?”

I shook my head. “No. And I’m sorry, but if she’s dead… I’m going to kill every man in that apartment, and none of you will be able to stop me.”

“You’d kill people over a cat?” Zane seemed genuinely surprised.

I stared back at him. “That cat is worth five of those ava’ram assholes.”

“Hell yeah,” Jenner said. “Suits me. I can’t stand to leave a fellow pussy in danger.”

Mason actually smiled. “I get it, Rex. Believe me. You had her a long time?”

I wasn’t sure if they were trying to make me justify my price for helping them, but it sure felt like it. “Not that long. I picked her up during one of my last high-profile jobs. A traitor to the organization… he sold out my best friend and had about five other guys killed. The Italian Mafia, the FBI… he didn’t care. Binah was his cat. I felt responsible for her.”

“Yeah.” Jenner sighed, “I know that feeling. Well, we got flak vests, machetes, and shotguns, so let’s get moving. Duke! Go get the shotguns!”

“Ay-ay, captain.” Duke drew his feet together and saluted, then turned to march out the door.

“Wait. No.” I held up a hand. “Shotguns are out. Guns are out. This is an apartment. And I’m not able to do this tonight. I need to sleep in a bed for a change, I need to get my things… and I want to review the case file. Once I’ve seen the photos and read the Vigiles file, I’ll know if this is something I can handle.”

“What? You been sleeping rough?” Jenner frowned.

Unable to reply, I nodded. Once.

“Guy like you, I figure you’d just whack someone with money.”

“I prefer the street to prison,” I replied. “The food is better.”

“Fair enough. Well, you can crash here.” Jenner shrugged her thin shoulders. “It’s no skin off my ass. Zane’ll put you to bed. Get you some hot chocolate and your woobie, tuck you in.”

“Maybe a little cuddle.” Duke wrapped his arms around his own chest and did a little pirouette.

“My foot could give your face a little cuddle,” Zane growled.

The four of them laughed and I smiled, but there was a bittersweet sting to the scene and the moment of pleasure passed. Shit-talk had been one of the things that characterized the old life, and all gangs had in-jokes and things that got everyone laughing. It had taken me a long time to get used to it, to know when I was really being disrespected and when it was an invitation. It was part of the Thieves’ World, and I was no longer included.

Jenner grinned toothily. “Seriously though, Zane can show you around. He’s camping out here, too. House rules are pretty simple. First rule is—”

“Don’t talk about bike club,” Duke said.

Jenner shoved him. “Don’t kill anyone on the carpet, don’t drink all the beer, don’t stink up the place with crack, and don’t give anyone an STD. Easy.”

“I assure you that there’s no chance of that,” I replied. “I’m practically a monk.”

Duke grinned. “You get down on your knees for old guys every night?”

“Hey now, don’t be judging a man’s fetish,” Jenner said.

I arched an eyebrow. “If you need to confess, I can fix you up with a Hail Mary and a high speed nine-millimeter indulgence.”

That earned a laugh. Mason smiled, and it reached his steely gray eyes. “Looks like you’ll fit right in here, Rex. Think you can do the apartment job tomorrow?”

Something hardened in me. It was a curling sensation in the mouth, a predatory pressure in the teeth. It was the feeling of impending revenge, served cold and bloody. “I’ll be ready by tomorrow night… you can count on it.”