Unclean Spirits

Twenty

The second report came from the lawyer in the morning, about half an hour before Aaron and Candace arrived.

I had cut the conversation with the fake Ex off after about fifteen minutes with the promise that I’d be in touch again soon. Afterward, it had been hard to sleep, so I didn’t drag myself out of bed until almost noon. My eyes felt gritty and my mind was stuffed with cotton, and the scent of Midian’s coffee was like the promise of spring in February. I struggled with last night’s square knot on my robe, gave up, and pulled on a pair of blue jeans and one of Eric’s white shirts. It was a little too sheer for polite company and the only bra I could find was way past laundry day, so I put one of his suit jackets on too.

Kim and Chogyi Jake were sitting across the kitchen table from each other, engrossed in a conversation about the relationship between parasitism and immaterial beings. It seemed to center on whether riders were really using people as a means to reproduce or if they had some other agenda. Midian took a look at me, chuckled like a chain saw, and poured me a cup of coffee.

“You still need new dishes, kid,” he said. “We’re eating off bakeware here.”

“I’ll get right on it,” I said.

Kim glanced at me, her expression closed and unreadable. Her hair was in place, her makeup perfect. I was willing to bet her bra was clean, and we’d lost her bag the day before. It was hard not to see the emptiness of her expression as criticism, and it stung a little. I’d thought we were working on being friends. But then I remembered her moment of candor at the hospital and her reaction to Eric’s voice. There was more going on than I knew about. I tried to keep my paranoia in check at least until the caffeine could work its way into my blood.

“Look,” I said. “There’s something I did that you guys should know about.”

I recapped Extojayne for Kim, then explained my plan to use the plant to mislead Coin. Chogyi Jake smiled all the way through it. I found myself wishing he would frown sometimes or express disapproval, just for variety’s sake. I topped off my cup.

“It’s a risk, but I think you’re wise to take it,” Chogyi Jake said.

“Thanks,” I said.

The doorbell rang, and Kim started at the sound. So did I, a little. Midian sighed.

“I’ll get the gun,” he said, but by the time we got to the door, the courier was gone.

The new report was as anonymous as its predecessor, but shorter. It was little more than an itinerary for Coin over the next seven days, starting with going to church tomorrow and ending with a concert next Friday night with a footnote disclaiming the reliability of the list, and pointing out that things change. Like I needed to be reminded of that.

“What about Tuesday?” Kim said. “He’s speaking at the convention center downtown. If we make our fake escape during that, we might be able to catch him coming out.”

“If he thought we were worth bothering with,” Midian said. “He might just send his bully boys.”

“Let me work on that with Extojayne,” I said. “If we make the cheese pretty enough, he might come out. It’ll take away some of his backup anyway. Are we sure about Tuesday night, or is there anything on the list that looks better? Where exactly is he supposed to be speaking?”

My cell phone went off. Kim only tensed at Eric’s voice this time. When I answered, it was Candace saying that she and Aaron were coming up the front door, and not to freak out.

Candace Dorn had changed from the first time I’d seen her. Her face looked stronger, more confident. She held herself with less reserve. It’s amazing how not having your boyfriend beating the crap out of you improves your appearance. Aaron, at her side, was a little under six feet tall with dark hair cut close, shoulders broad enough to build small townships on, and a demeanor that leaned in toward the world. Everything about him had me reaching for my license and registration.

I had my hand out to shake his, but he stepped inside my arm and lifted me up in a bear hug that had my ribs creaking. When he put me down, Candace echoed the gesture in a less painful way.

“I hope you don’t mind that I came too,” she said. “I’ve gotten to where I can stand to let him go to work, but this…after last time…”

“I totally understand,” I said. “Come in. Both of you. I have some people I’d like you to meet.”

Kim and Chogyi Jake greeted Candace and Aaron. Midian had the good taste to look uncomfortable, the only inhuman beast in the room. We sat in the living room, all six of us, and I launched into what felt like the hundredth retelling of the situation—the Invisible College, Eric, Coin, Aubrey, Ex, Extojayne, Chogyi Jake and Midian’s house arrest, the bullets designed to kill riders, the reports on Coin’s schedule, everything. I talked for twenty minutes, Chogyi Jake, Kim, and Midian interrupting occasionally to clarify one point or another, Candace and Aaron asking infrequent questions. Along the way, I started to notice something that unnerved me.

Without discussion or conscious intent, the room had divided. Candace and Aaron sat at the end of the couch, Kim leaning against the wall beside them, while Chogyi Jake sat at the far side of the hearth and Midian haunted the doorway that led to the kitchen. I remembered an image I’d seen in science classes—a cell pulling itself apart, dividing in two. Along one wall was the team I had assembled—Kim to work the magic, Aaron to provide the muscle and knowledge of violence, Candace to help however she could. Along the other, Midian and Chogyi Jake were the survivors of the team I’d begun with when I first dropped down this rabbit hole. Apart from giving advice and history and perspective, there was nothing for them to do. I was leaving them behind.

I didn’t want to.

“Seems like the first thing we ought to do,” Aaron said, “is drive his route. We know where he’s going to be Tuesday night. We know where he lives. It’d be a good idea to know what’s in between point A and point B, right?”

“I’d thought of that too,” I said, pulling myself back from the strange sorrow that had distracted me. “I printed out some MapQuest directions.” I pointed to them on the coffee table. “According to those, it’s about a twenty-minute drive from Coin’s place to the convention center. I don’t know that he’ll be taking the computer’s route, though.”

“That’s why you’ve got locals,” Aaron said with a grin. “We’ll figure it out. The bad guys have seen you and Kim?”

“Yes,” I said. “Not very well, though. The only one who really got a look at us was the one I kicked.”

“You two should sit in the backseat all the same,” Candace said. I must have looked surprised at her tone of voice, because she shrugged and went on. “It makes you harder to see. Basic tactics.”

I began to wonder if I’d underestimated the woman.

“All right,” I said. “I don’t know that it’s a plan, but it’s at least moving toward one. Give me a couple minutes to get presentable.”

Aaron nodded, but he was looking at the MapQuest printouts. Candace leaned over his shoulder, her brow furrowing.

“You don’t think he’d take Speer?” Candace said.

“I’d take Colfax and I-25,” Aaron said. “I don’t know why you’d want to keep to surface streets.”

“What about heading out Federal and going south?”

“Better than Speer,” Aaron agreed.

I snuck back to my room. I didn’t figure there was time for a shower, but I did my hair up in a bun and put on clothes that looked less like I was dressing myself out of Eric’s secondhand shop. Jeans, T-shirt, tennis shoes. I even dug up a mostly cleanish bra that wasn’t so dark it would show through the white of the tee. I hung my leather backpack on one shoulder and considered myself in the bathroom mirror. Halfway to respectable, me.

I couldn’t restrain myself and checked e-mail before I went back out. There was nothing. I turned the laptop back off.

The debate of routes from Coin’s place to the speaking engagement had turned into a full-on council of war while I was gone. Aaron was squatting on the floor in front of an unfolded map of the city, marking out a route in yellow highlighter. There were already other paths in green and blue. Kim was on the couch alone now, leaning forward and listening intently to Candace and Aaron debate. Chogyi Jake was still on the hearth. I touched his shoulder and nodded to the kitchen. We went past Midian without disturbing the planning session in progress.

Chogyi Jake’s expression was concerned, but there was still the hint of laughter at the corners of his bloodshot, exhausted eyes. I had the impulse to take his hand, but didn’t do it.

“I wanted to apologize,” I said. “I know there’s not a real reason to, but I wanted to do it anyway.”

“I accept,” he said without hesitation. “What was it you were apologizing for?”

“Going without you,” I said. “For putting this whole thing together and not having you be part of it.”

“I have my role,” he said. “With the Invisible College tracking me, I wouldn’t have been much use for this part.”

“I know that,” I said. “It’s just…I don’t want you to feel like I cut you out. I don’t want you to feel like I’m leaving you behind or something. I’m…”

I gestured ineffectively. Chogyi Jake gently pushed my hands back down toward my sides.

“You’ve had to put a lot of people behind you, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Your mother and father. The friends you had in college.”

I was more than a little embarrassed at the tears that sprang to my eyes.

“Okay,” I said. “Putting too fine a point on it now.”

“What you’ve done here? It’s exactly the sort of thing Eric would have chosen. This was the way he lived. When a situation arose, he gathered the people he needed to address it. When the work was complete, he moved on. If you’re taking up his work apart from this one last project of his, it’s going to be the kind of life you lead too.”

“But he had friends. He had people he could count on. People he could trust,” I said. And then, “Didn’t he?”

“I don’t know,” Chogyi Jake said. “He was a difficult man to know well. Perhaps he’d seen too much. I know you much better than I ever did him. And I care for you more.”

I grabbed a sheet of paper towel and wiped my eyes. Chogyi Jake stood silently, bearing witness without offering to hold me or turning away. I loved him a little bit for that.

“Okay,” I said. “So here’s the thing. I care about you too, and I’ve got to go do this thing. And I know you can’t do it with me. But it’s not because you aren’t really, really important to me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And you’re going to be here. In the house. When I get back?”

“I am.”

“You aren’t going to take off on me.”

“I’m not.”

“Fucking promise.”

He grinned.

“I fucking promise,” he said.

I took a deep breath, then another, then another, letting each one out slowly until I was back under control. Chogyi Jake was smiling gently. He looked tired. If I’d let myself think about it, I wouldn’t have done it. I leaned in and kissed his cheek the way my mother used to when I was a kid. He laughed.

“Okay,” I said, loud enough for it to carry into the living room. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

The heat was worse than it had been before. Candace drove a two-year-old Saturn sedan, and even with the air-conditioning turned up high enough that Kim and I had to lean forward to hear and be heard, the backseat still felt like a sauna. On the streets, the trees seemed to wilt under the press of sunlight. Pedestrians reclined at the bus stops like prizefighters between rounds.

“There’s supposed to be a cold front moving in,” Aaron said over his shoulder. “It always gets like this right before the heat breaks.”

I squinted into the sun.

What does the secret lair of an evil wizard look like? It was two stories high with a red tile roof and stucco I could only think of as Realtor beige. Across the street, there was a wide park where improbably green grass looked like a very short jungle. We circled the block once, Aaron watching the house as if it might move. Kim murmured under her breath, and I had the feeling she was doing something not entirely natural with her will.

“Okay,” Aaron said. “Here’s the thing. There are a lot of different ways he can go from here to there. I’m thinking that our best option is to take him out close to one of the ends. Either here when he’s heading to the speaking thing or downtown when he’s leaving afterward.”

“There are going to be more wards and protections here,” Kim said.

“On the other hand, there are going to be more innocent bystanders downtown,” I said. “If there’s going to be a fight, I’d rather have it someplace where no one’s likely to get hurt. By mistake, I mean.”

“If we find the right site, it won’t be an issue,” Candace said.

“You sound like you’ve done this before,” I said.

“Nah,” she said, with a nod toward Aaron. “I’ve just been hanging out with him too long.”

We spent two hours driving different routes back and forth between Coin’s neighborhood and the convention center. The convention center itself was a huge glass-fronted building like an aquarium built for people. The streets downtown were busy and almost all one-way, usually not the one we wanted. There were two places—one near the convention center, the other down near Coin’s house—that particularly excited Aaron’s interest.

Kim, sitting beside me, seemed to grow more and more withdrawn through the day. At about half past three, I called a break, and Candace drove us a couple of blocks to the Rock Bottom Brewery at the Sixteenth Street mall. We sat on the patio so that we could actually hear one another. In the shade, it wasn’t too bad. With a cold beer, it was better.

“Okay,” I said after we’d ordered some food. “What have we got so far?”

“I think we can take him out by the convention center without there being too much risk of it spilling over,” Aaron said. “It’ll mean taking him by surprise, but—”

“But he’s a rider,” I said. “He can do things that a human being can’t. We have to figure that in.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Kim said. “He’s going to outclass us when it comes to magic. There’s no way around it.”

“What options can you give me?” I asked.

Kim sipped her beer, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. It was the least cultured and controlled gesture I’d seen her make.

“My toolbox is smaller than you’re used to,” she said. “I quit working with Eric before Aubrey did, so I just don’t know as much. In a way, that makes it easier because there isn’t much to choose from. I can attack Coin. Try to break the bond between the rider and the body it’s in. It’s unlikely to work by itself, but if he’s also being assaulted physically at the time, there might be a chance. Or I can protect the group by making us difficult to focus on, which has the advantage of giving our side more time. But it doesn’t do anything about his protections, which I expect are going to be difficult to penetrate no matter how much time we buy ourselves. Or…or I can damp down all the unnatural activity in the immediate area.”

“Tell me about that last one,” I said.

“It’s a simple ceremony,” Kim said. “The name for it is Calling Malkuth. It doesn’t take a lot of finesse or preparation, which is an advantage because I’m not very good at this. It’s fairly easy, since it’s essentially calling forth normalcy, and bringing things back to their natural state is simpler than pulling them out of it. I don’t think it would be wise to count on me for anything fancy.”

“What’s it do?” Aaron asked.

“It invokes the material world,” Kim said. “It makes riders less powerful. Which means it will affect the bodyguard too. We can’t forget about him. It also restricts the kinds of things other people can do. Normal humans who’ve been trained would find it harder to cast spells or express their will in nonphysical ways.”

“What’s the downside?” I asked.

“It’s indiscriminate,” she said. “I can’t just affect their side. So you wouldn’t be able to do anything either.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t know what it would do to the protections Eric put on you.” That she looked down when she said it was enough to show that this was her real objection.

“Tell me about that,” I said.

“Well. Chogyi and Midian both said that there have been things about you…that you’ve been surprisingly good with some kinds of fighting, that you’re harder than usual to locate using nonmaterial means. If Eric had protections on you, Calling Malkuth would diminish them. And then I don’t know that afterward they would come back.”

“What if she wasn’t there?” Candace asked. “If Jayné didn’t come, then she wouldn’t need to be there when you did the—” She waved her hands like a stage magician.

“I’ll be there,” I said. “If it’s a risk, that’s fine. I’ll take it.”

“No. Don’t just make a snap decision like that. Think about this,” Kim said. “We don’t know all of what Eric’s done. We don’t know what other work we might be interfering with. I don’t want…I don’t want to be responsible for breaking something I can’t fix.”

She shrugged, and I understood what she wasn’t saying. I was her husband’s lover. There was a whole side of her that wanted nothing more than to see me hurt. She didn’t trust herself.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll think about it. But right now, it’s the option that sounds the best to me.”

The food came. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until my first mouthful. Then I couldn’t stop. The sun pressed down on the world. A constant trickle of sweat ran down between my shoulder blades. It was Sunday. The last day in the worst week of a life that had a couple other real contenders.

Maybe Tuesday wasn’t the right time. Two days didn’t seem long enough to really plan out what I was going to do, all the possibilities and contingencies. All the things that could go wrong. I paid the bill with cash when it came. There was still a part of me that shuddered a little bit at a single meal that cost over fifty dollars. A month ago, it wouldn’t have been something I could afford. Now it was subliminal. Next month, it could be up to whoever was catering my funeral.

The street mall was permanently blocked to cars. We’d parked in the structure underneath the restaurant, so when we left, the direction was down. The garage was pretty full, but also offered the kind of cool that comes with being underground in the unkind heat of August. We angled for Candace’s sedan, and I fell into step beside Kim. She looked over at me, then away. A motorcycle whined.

I didn’t know what was happening until Aaron had already pushed me down between two cars. Candace and Kim were crouched low and following. A pistol had appeared in his hand as if from nowhere. The motorcycle’s engine dropped to a lower hum.

“What?” I whispered.

“The bike,” Aaron said. “It’s been following us. I wasn’t sure before. The thing is the guy on the bike keeps changing.”

“More than one person?”

“He changed in the middle of traffic,” Aaron said. “He was a big black guy, and then about half a block later, he was an Asian chick. I thought maybe it was just similar bikes, but…”

I moved forward. The motorcycle was at the end of the row, pointing vaguely toward the exit. The man sitting on it was craning his neck, looking for something. Looking for us. He pulled something small and plastic out of his pocket, looked at it, frowned, and put it back. He was maybe in his early fifties, with salt-and-pepper stubble and a long, greasy ponytail. I gathered my qi, drawing it slowly up to my eyes. The image shifted. The glamour washed away, ponytail and stubble and decades flowing away from the man. I said something vulgar.

“Stay here,” I told Aaron, then stepped out into the aisle, walking down the oil-stained concrete like I owned it. On the motorcycle, our shadow saw me. His expression went from surprise to chagrin to anger in less than a breath. By the time I reached him, he had braced the cycle with his legs and his arms were crossed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I shouted over the low roar of the engine.

“I was going to ask the same of you,” Ex said.