Immortal enough, p.8
Immortal Enough, page 8
“I’m worried about your safety.”
“Says the woman who got stabbed.”
“Which in my world qualifies as merely annoyingly inconvenient,” I said. “Switching gears back to the box, I will happily do a bank transfer for five hundred thousand dollars, which should be enough for you to complete your degree without any more money issues.”
He blinked, eyes wide.
Maybe I’d offered too much, but really, it was just money, and not even a painful amount for me.
“I hid it someplace safe,” he said.
“Okay, no hurry, except for the Byakhee cabal peeps who seem to be willing to go to lengths to get it.”
He finished tying his shoes. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I relented. It wasn’t just the box that I wanted. I also wanted Fitz to stay alive, but he was obviously back to trying to process the most recent set of information.
~
I hadn’t burned but a couple of personal days from my job this year. I really did try to live a pretty tame existence most of the time, because when the shit hit the fan, things could get really messy. I left an early morning message with my boss that some emergency family business had come up and I needed at least three days, maybe more. There was grumbling about short notice. I really didn’t give a crap. I could go jobless for quite a while. It just simplified explanations when talking to average people to have a job to reference.
I prowled around my apartment, waiting for my wound to heal more fully, and also poking through a whole raft of websites and forums looking for information that might clue me in as what the Cabal was sticking their fingers into this year. And I kept an eye out for any mention of Djual Kuhl. Back in the day, I had thought the name sounded both exotic and creepy. Here in the twenty first century, it sounded like a wannabe hip hop dude. Not that I had any intention of underestimating the sheer unfettered violence he was capable of.
On a comment within a sub thread of Reddit, of all places, I found a mention that the CIA’s head of Intelligence for the East Asia and Pacific Analysis Division was looking for someone to repair or replicate a ring. The photo of the ring looked like the one I’d seen on the guy who attacked Fitz and me. The ring had a melty scorched segment. I wanted to laugh. I made an assumption that it was the result of a decent voltage lightning bolt. Mine. And of course the person referenced wasn’t actually named by his title. He was referred to by his name, Steven Drezner. Only much later in the thread of comments did someone ask about the CIA link and there was, of course, a hasty denial, and claim of coincidence in name.
The Cabal always had people in positions of power within governments, for centuries even. It made perfect sense that a moderately powerful CIA employee might be stirring the pot on behalf of the Byakhee. I couldn’t find anything else at the moment. I might have to wait for Dama to be in contact again.
I gave up and went to bed.
Chapter 16
Fitz
I thought about buying a gun, but realized I had zero skill and zero knowledge about what kind might even be appropriate. And gun shopping or trying to gun shop on a Monday morning… didn’t sound like a sane plan. I needed to give up that idea and focus on being more watchful. As I crossed campus from the metro stop, the people I saw all seemed like students, faculty, and staff. Would I even notice if there was a difference?
Office hours were quiet. A grand total of two students stopped by to ask questions. Before the freshman physics lab I had to teach, I took a couple of minutes to peek into the middle drawer of the lockable file cabinet in the stock room. I don’t know that it qualified as world’s safest place for a box that might be magick, but it seemed like one of the least likely places for evil… somebodies to think of looking for it. It was tucked under a stack of lab handouts and a previous edition of the lab book.
I lifted all those things, touched the box itself, just to reassure myself and then settled everything back in.
When I went back out into the lab, Milo was there with a handful of spring scales in his hand. “I figured you would need these back before your class started. They got moved next door. You’d think a university this big would have a full set for each lab. Dude… you’ve got a shiner.” He pointed at the bruising around my eye.
“They get broken, and are slow to be replaced,” I said, pointing at the scales. “And I got into it with a drunk moron at the club.” It wasn’t like I wanted to even try explaining the actual events. Students began to filter into the lab.
“There was a guy looking for you a couple of hours ago.”
A chill of apprehension ran through me. “One of the lab students?” I taught labs on Monday Wed and Thursday.
“Enh, I don’t know. Looked older than the average student, but that doesn’t really mean anything.”
I wanted to stop second guessing whether I was in danger, but after getting attacked and Sophie being stabbed… I felt antsy.
~
Lab went off per normal. The last student left, and I sat skimming through lab reports, looking to see if there were nameless papers or ones that were missing the graphs that were supposed to be attached. There were only a couple. I shuffled everything into a pile and began thinking about the box in the file cabinet. In the storage unit, the light had been iffy. Here I had equipment, better lighting, clamps, and ring stands that I could use to get a better photo.
I went back into the stock room and locked the door. No one would be able to get in without a key. I clamped an iron ring on the ring stand and did a test run of laying my phone across the ring so that it was pointing straight downward and appeared to be level. I dug around on the shelving to find a small movable light, usually used for demos, and set it close to the ring stand.
Finally I retrieved the magick box from the file cabinet. Should I really call it the magick box? I guess that was as good as anything else considering I didn’t understand the Chinese word that Sophie had used.
I positioned it under my phone and took a couple of photos with the lid still on. Except for the better lighting and less shadowing, it didn’t look substantially different. Three photos, only changing the angle of the light, then I picked the box up and gently wobbled off the lid. I repositioned the open bottom half and picked up a pen to probe the inside. A flake of something scraped off the edge of my middle fingernail and fell into the box. I flinched, because it disturbed the insubstantial image with like a pebble dropped into a glass of water.
What the fuck? As it resolved, it seemed like the circular shape was “thicker,” not wider, but more along the lines of less see through. I rolled my hand over, looking at my fingernails. Despite having taken a shower with Sophie and yet another extremely quick one this morning, I guessed that the darkness remaining in the divots along my cuticles and the tiny trench where nail met skin was probably blood. More specifically, Sophie’s blood. Between trying to staunch the flow right after her stabbing, then later stapling the gash, there had been points when my hands had been liberally covered in her blood.
I returned my gaze to the box interior. The curve of what was inside more closely resembled a bracelet now. I wondered if I should be fascinated or utterly terrified, considering the Sophie had told me about her “death” following trying on the original bracelet. Very gingerly I poked down into the box. It wasn’t like air, not like it had been in the storage unit. There was some kind of texture like a thick liquid. Pudding? Right. I had inadvertently created a bracelet made of pudding. That sounded ridiculous.
I put the lid back on and returned the whole thing to its hiding place.
~
I decided I was starving. Breakfast had been a power bar on the way out the door this morning, I walked out of the physics building, contemplating a toss-up between the Quantum Café and a sub shop. I started toward the café, mostly because I thought their coffee was better.
“Should I assume you’re going to lunch?”
I whirled around to see Sophie standing a few steps behind me.
“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at work?” I demanded, and then regretted it. My pulse was still pounding because she had scared the crap out of me.
“Considering the things that have happened recently, I decided to take some personal time,” she said.
“The concept of you playing bodyguard to me should be laughable, except I’ve seen what you can do. And yes, I was going to lunch. Does this mean you want to come with me?”
“Unless you object.”
I smiled. “No. I have something to tell you anyway. Just don’t expect haute cuisine. It’s a campus food service place.”
We fell in step as we crossed part of campus to the café. As we walked, I reached out a hand and our finger twined together. It felt… weirdly normal. And then the thought that she was more than a century older than me, made the weird outweigh the normal.
~
We sat on a bench outside the café, eating. I related to Sophie the short version of what I’d seen regarding the box.
She gave me a long contemplative look. “And you think what you saw happen was a result of my blood?”
“Maybe. It seems like a good hypothesis. What do you think?”
Sophie gave me a solemn inscrutable look. “Considering the reference in the scroll to blood of life cast within the box of life, you may very well be onto a piece of the mechanism.” And then she made a face, pressing her lips together. “And does this mean you have the box here on campus?”
“I changed its location before we were attacked outside Siracha. I was worried that after the burglar searched my apartment that maybe he or someone affiliated with him might have followed me to the original storage location. And the physics building has areas that have a little better security than my place. I mean I know you did the protective thing, but…”
“The warding I did on your apartment was really little more than something to slow down another break in by someone from the Cabal.”
“So, I’m in danger… still. And this isn’t something the police can even remotely protect me from.” I wanted to throw something.
“The police… wouldn’t have a clue. I wish this was a simple solution kind of thing. Here’s a suggestion for you to roll around. There’s a couple of empty apartments in my building. Even though my floor is heavily and specifically protected, I did put a measure of warding around the entire structure. You’d have your own space, completely separate from mine, but you’d be quite a bit safer.”
I was surprised. “After having me stay over the other night…”
“You thought I was going to suggest you move in with me.”
“Yes.” I clenched my hand in anxiety.
“I considered it. We have this undefined attraction. But, in comparison to your life, I live in a different reality. I assumed you’d refuse.”
“You’re not exactly wrong,” I admitted.
“So offering you space that’s closer, but protected, and still your own is my best compromise.” Sophie leaned forward and kissed me.
“That makes it sound a bit like, what’s the term, an open relationship?”
“It is. You maintain a level of control. I get to worry less.”
“Do we really have a relationship or have there just been a few booty calls in between trying not to get killed?”
“I don’t know. Your family… my past…It’s complicated.”
“That’s an understatement.” I drank the last of my coffee. “I need to get back to the physics building. Office hours.”
“Okay. Think about my offer though.”
Sophie took my hand and placed a small object in it. It was a rough-cut hexagonal crystal with a piece wire wrapped around it. The wire had a couple of tiny tags attached. “What is this?”
“Something that might help keep you safe. Put it in your pocket.”
I did so.
“Call me if you think you’re in obvious danger, otherwise I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Chapter 17
Sophie
I’d spent an hour this morning casting a complex spell into a smoky quartz crystal. It had a smidge of no-see-um, blended with several protective threads and a dash of binding, sealed with luck. The binding part was a gamble. I wanted notification if he was in critical danger but didn’t want him to feel like I was breathing down his neck.
Really, when I was in the shower, I had entertained two minutes of the idea of locking him in my apartment until I had this entire shit show sorted out. That would probably have blown out in my face. He was an adult, a pretty competent adult… who just had no background in magick or dealings with those who were not human. Maybe I should adjust that to, not human anymore, except that left out whole categories. Erg.
Back to thoughts on the binding. All my intentions had the feel of one of those tracking apps, that parents often put on their kids’ phones. There were both good and bad outcomes involving those things, especially if overused, but if he was seriously threatened, I wanted to have an idea of where he was. Of course there was no guarantee it would all go according to plan.
I went back across campus, toward the metro station. I could have driven, but I was going for low profile. My text vibrated with an incoming text. It was from Dama. The single sentence was disconcerting.
Contact says Djual has been seen in the U.S., Boston.
Jesus fucking Christ… nothing like confirmation that the boogieman was sighted. I rolled the information around in my head as I walked. Boston wasn’t anywhere near far enough away to give me a feeling of safety. Maybe “they” were mistaken. On the other hand, I was too much of a cynic to believe the bastard might be gone or truly dead.
On to other more solvable problems for the moment. I needed to get my car detailed, by a dude who asked few questions. I dialed his number.
“S’up?”
“Hey Kyle. I need the inside of my car deep cleaned,” I said.
“Okay. How fast?”
“Today would be nice, but it’s not critical.”
“I have some time after three. Spilled coffee, puke or worse?”
“Blood. Mine actually.”
“Got it. Can you drop it off?” he asked.
“Yes.”
See you around three.” He hung up.
Not a man of many words. Not a human at all. He was a lycan. I’d done him a major favor a while back.
Chapter 18
Fitz
I floundered my way through the rest of my day on campus, grading, checking on prep for a lab and office hours. I think I explained calculations of circular motion equations to eight different students. On my way home I weighed the pros and cons of taking Sophie up on the offer to move into her building. It was a little further from campus, but by less than a mile more, just in a different direction. She had dropped the figured of half a million dollars as payment for the box. Was I expected to pay rent out of that? Did it even remotely matter? I needed an exterior viewpoint and the only person I trusted was Noah. I texted him, hoping he could swing by my “current” apartment later in the evening. Maybe Sophie’s luck thing was rubbing off because he was free.
~
“So did you get a job offer or is this about the break in?” Noah asked, fishing a cashew off his plate with chopsticks. He had picked up take-out Chinese for the two of us on the way over.
“Not a job offer,” I said with a laugh. “The burglary is a piece of the possibility of moving.” I picked up a crab Rangoon and ate it, washing it down with beer. “I guess I should update you on the past few days.” It took me forty minutes to hit the broad strokes.
“Wow.”
“That’s a fucking understatement. You think I’ve totally lost my mind, don’t you?”
“No.”
I think maybe I was surprised.
“Confession time.” Noah stood up and walked toward the window in the den. He looked out, then turned to face me. “When I said I knew some people who’d seen unexplainable things, that was a half truth. I’ve seen things.”
I scrunched my lips together and kept silent.
“You need to understand. The secret… it impacts the safety of more than just me or my family.” He took a gulp from his beer bottle. “One of my mom’s best college buddies is a lycan… When I was sixteen, I came into the house. My mom thought I was going to be off down the street gaming for at least a few hours. I saw her, the woman, go from being a wolf to being a … a woman. That fact she was buck naked was actually irrelevant. I’d been to enough clothing optional events with my family that nudity was not a big deal. My mom, and her, I can’t give you her name, sighed and began to explain. So I know there’s a different level of reality than most people are aware of.”
I held my breath for a few seconds, trying to process the information from a guy I thought I knew everything about. “We met when we were twelve. I thought we had no secrets.”
“It’s not exactly my secret. And I thought it would never be likely to be relevant. Which is why I’m telling you as much as I can now.” Noah looked contrite. “You’re the science guy. Even if I had told you way back when, would you really have believed me?”
“I guess probably not,” I admitted. “So what the hell do I do about all this? Moving and the box and Sophie and the crazy people who are willing to stab her … or me.”
“Free rent is a big thing.”
“In exchange for non-stop danger?”
“What makes you think the danger will go away if you stay here?” Noah pointed out.
“If the guy she electrocuted is dead… yeah, I guess there’s no real way to prove or disprove that hypothesis.” I desperately wanted to feel like there was an easy way out of all of this.
“You’re attracted to her. She has mad skills and resources, deep resources. She’s offering you protection and money with very few strings attached so it seems.”
My brain jumped to a thought. “I want you to meet her. You can give me some feedback on if I’m thinking with my dick or actually making rational choices.”
