James Baldwin - Stained Glass

“Fucking hell.” Jenner muttered something in Vietnamese.

“The kids are probably at Vanya’s dock complex,” I said. “But they could be at John’s house, or his changing ground. Can Weeders use magic?”

“I’ve heard that some of the oldest Elders can use magic of a kind,” Jenner said. “But… Michael was the one who would have known. Fuck. Oh fuck, none of us even ever thought to ask him.”

“John could have been The Deacon all this time,” Angkor laced his fingers through his hair and pulled it with a sound of frustration. “He knew I was going to the Ross changing ground.”

I didn’t think John Spotted Elk was The Deacon. The dark priest had a sensual, smug gravity that John lacked. The mage was patrician, confident, one of those magi who considered their ability to be a manifestation of their own greatness, their own chosenness.

“He hadn’t known I was going to Moris Falkovich’s house, but if he knew The Deacon and he could use time magic, someone could have foreseen it. Or he could have just arranged it as soon as I began to make any inroads on the case,” I said. “Even though Falkovich was badly decayed, you can’t tell how old a body really is with DOG killings. The kids had been moved from that house recently, I know it… the smell was still in the air. There were jail cells. Plenty of them. They’ve been moved at least once since that time.”

Zane drew a deep, steadying breath. “But where?”

“Vanya has the facilities to imprison multiple people,” I replied. “There is a company called AEROMOR that uses Docks Four and Five at the Red Hook shipyard. He owns all the warehouses and runs the union.”

“They could have just as easily been taken to John’s house,” Ayashe said, drawing herself tall. “He has a huge property up in Ossining. The Vigiles doesn’t have the resources to raid more than one site.”

“Then we do it.” Jenner lifted her chin, hands planted on her narrow hips. “Vigiles go to one site, we go and do the other.”

Ayashe ground her teeth until I thought her face would crack.

“Regular police can’t take on Morphorde,” Angkor said. “You know they can’t. They’d die by the score, Ayashe. All they have is munitions.”

“It’s true. Ain’t no one teaching the NYPD how to use a sword these days.” Ayashe regarded us all with a grim eye, hard and determined. “Jenner, if you lead a team to John’s, I’ll call in the cavalry and go down to Red Hook. It’s likely to be messier there. Besides that, we’ve got enough on that computer to make arrests, especially if Rex willing to testify in exchange for protection.”

“I’m not,” I said. “I am willing to provide an anonymous statement and help you match tattoos. You should be careful at Red Hook… Vanya has a lot of extremely dangerous men working for him. Be prepared for anything.”

“The more of them I can throw in the wagon, the happier I’ll be.” Ayashe jerked her chin forward and tossed her head. “You watch yourselves. I don’t think we ever knew the real John Spotted Elk, and we have exactly no idea what he’s capable of.”

Zane, Jenner and Talya went to confer with the rest of the Tigers. Exhausted, battle-weary, and starved from rapid-fire shapeshifting, they ordered more pizza than I’d ever seen in my life and gorged on at least four thousand calories apiece. It ended up with everyone clustered around the pool table with a map and a route drawn out on copy paper, laid out in front of us like a table-top roleplaying game. The property was outside the New York City limit, occupying a huge plot of forest land at the end of a cul-de-sac.

“We’ve got twenty-three miles between the site and the Tappan-Zee Bridge,” Jenner said. “We’re going to face one of three possible scenarios. Number one, they’re still there and we have to lay into the house. Number two, we get there in time to find them driving off. Number three, they’ve already left and we have to report to Ayashe so that the highway patrol can get on it. Assuming one or two, if they get the kids to the tollgates in cars or trucks we’re going to find it hard to keep on chasing them. There are cops all up that stretch of highway, and we’ll get pulled up if they’re not in the loop.”

“We should send an advance car.” I pointed at the map. The streets formed a rough circle. “There’s two possible exits to Saw Mill River Road. If we station parties at each exit, we can close on them in the event of a flush.”

“We’ve got shortwave radios on the bikes and in the Lincoln,” Zane said. “Suits me.”

Jenner nodded, leaning on her hands. “Right. Call an Alpha if you see them loading, Bravo if they’re taking off, Charlie if you can’t see any activity. Echo for emergency.”

“If I’m in the advance car, I can probably feel out for signs of life in the house without needing to get too close,” Angkor said, pizza still in hand.

“I’m going,” I said. “I’d rather be in a car.”

“And me,” Talya added.

“Y’git a taste for blood now, kitten?” Big Ron grinned at her with a mouth full of gray teeth. She replied by thumbing her forehead at him.

“I’ll drive.” Zane folded his arms across his chest. “If I could drive a Jeep in Iraq without getting anyone killed, I can do it here.”

“Good,” Jenner said. “Now, you lot listen up. These fuckers ruined my old man, killed Duke, killed a bunch of children and made funny-films with the rest. You wanna kill ‘em? Then kill ‘em. Don’t play around. If any of us end up in the can for this, we’ll be the fucking heroes of the joint once the people inside know what we’re in for. The Big Cat Crew takes on the critters, and the rest of you take on the HuMans. We’re going full Mad Max on anyone we find, you hear?”

The room erupted with noise loud enough to make me wince, and I took that as my cue to leave. Talya and Zane remained, while Angkor and I went to the bunkroom.

Josie was no longer there, spirited away by Ayashe now that the coast was clear. We lay out tools and sundry, and took opposite ends of the same lower bunk to clean our weapons in the humid stillness of the room. Angkor had borrowed jeans and a leather jacket from Jenner, and he was disassembling, cleaning and loading a rifle with the kind of expertise that spoke of protracted military training. The bedroom still smelled faintly of corruption, the rotten flesh smell I’d dragged in here from Moris’s house. While noticeable, Angkor’s floral scent was not as intense as it had been when we’d first found him. He’d been burning the magical wick at both ends since he woke up.

Watching him, I tried to imagine leaving New York and going to Berlin, hanging up the knives and the pistols, living a life without violence. It was easy enough to visualize – the trappings, at least. The lean European buildings, the university office. Myself, ascetic and professional in a turtleneck and suit jacket. A doctor, preparing lessons, writing thesis after thesis, or a surgeon. But I couldn’t imagine it as a reality. Vassily and me had been bred to this life. He and I were picked and reared as carefully as dogs for the blind.

I could take my degree to Germany, turn it into a Masters, then a PhD. And then what? Pretend I’d never killed anyone as I listened to men complain about their overbearing father or bossy wife? Pretend to empathize with women’s relationship problems? Sure thing: me, the angry virgin from America who felt crippling pain with every unintended erection. What could I advise them? To find closure by swinging a sledgehammer into the back of their abusive father’s head?

Pride had gotten me here. I was proud to have contacted my Neshamah and attained power, and proud enough to ignore his advice. I’d been proud enough to resort to homelessness instead of finding someone to ask for help. I fought pride as I struggled with my words, trying to frame the question I wanted to ask of Angkor.