Razor Dreams: The Seventh Jonathan Shade Novel Page 13

  “Button your shirt,” Monica said, “and follow me.”

  I rose, gave Brenda a nod. “Thanks for the kiss,” I said.

  She pulled off her right glove and extended her hand. I clasped it and gave it a firm but not crushing squeeze. She stared at her hand then at me. “Weird,” she said. “Flesh on flesh and you're still here.”

  “You've been missing out.” I started to follow my sister out of the office.

  “Wait,” Brenda said.

  I turned.

  Brenda grabbed a business card from a holder, scribbled a number on the back, and handed it to me. “If your sister doesn't kill you, give me a call. Dinner, dancing, and more. Guaranteed.”

  I gave her a wink and accepted the card. “Looking forward to it,” I said.

  She fanned herself. “Human contact,” she said softly. “Jonathan Shade, you need to call me.” As she spoke, she touched my arm and ran her fingers down to the bare skin of my hand. She quivered when our flesh met.

  Out in the hall of mirrors, Monica said, “You are not allowed to sleep with my staff.”

  “I don't work for you, Monica. My sex life is none of your business. Brenda is hot.”

  “Get your ass into my office,” she said, yanking open a mirrored door. I couldn't see any handles, so magic was involved every step of the way in this place.

  Monica's office was spartan. She had a desk with one comfortable chair behind it and a Barcelona chair standing before it. Two sheets of paper sat on the black Formica desktop but nothing else. She didn't have file cabinets or windows or anything. Just a silver-walled box.

  “Nice view,” I said and sat in the Barcelona.

  “I can have a view if I like,” she said and snapped her fingers. The wall behind her instantly went transparent, and the New York skyline appeared behind her. She snapped her fingers again, and the window filled in with silver.

  “You should go on Penn and Teller's Fool Us,” I said.

  She sat down and steepled her fingers. “You're not funny. What are you doing in my city?”

  “Hunting a necromancer. Do you have a bandage?” I touched the puncture wound on my shoulder.

  “Let it bleed,” she said. “I overheard what you told Brenda.”

  “You little eavesdropper.”

  “Why should we help you?”

  “I wish you'd help because there's something killing people around town.”

  “Something is always killing people in this town. That doesn't make it our responsibility.”

  “Your idea of responsibility is that none of it is yours, but you feel that everyone else shirks their own. Must be nice to have such a malleable view.”

  Monica frowned. “Personal responsibility is not the same as professional responsibility, Jonathan.”

  “Don't go there,” I said.

  “I'm not saying anything,” she said.

  Without saying anything, she could make me think of Janey and my parents, and it didn't require any magic. Just the words personal responsibility.

  “What's the going price for professional responsibility?” I asked.

  “You can't afford it, little brother.”

  “Really? I can provide a numbered Swiss Bank Account that says otherwise.”

  “Sorry, Jonathan, Swiss banks don't operate the way you see in James Bond movies anymore.”

  “As it happens, I established the account in Zurich back in 1928, so I know it works the way I expected, and I can draw funds whenever I want. I transferred a million dollars to Kelly and a million to my friend Rayna just yesterday.”

  Monica laughed. “Like you could toss millions around.”

  “Pull up your bank account. I can transfer funds with my cell phone. How much do you need?”

  “A million would be nice,” Monica said.

  “How about five million?” I asked.

  “If you're stealing funds, that's an international crime, and I will turn you in.”

  “No theft. I have billions in my accounts. Yes, that's billions with a B, and I'll give you an extra million if you can say ‘billions’ like Carl Sagan.”

  “Bullshit starts with a B too,” she said. “I told you when Janey died that you'll never amount to anything. And for you to come in here lying your ass off proves it.”

  “So you don't want the millions?”

  “What I want is for you to get the hell out of my city.”

  I stood up. “Nice to see you again, Monica.”

  “You're not leaving yet, Jonathan. You have to tell me how you got here.”

  “Obviously you're not going to help with the necromancer situation, and I have neither the desire nor the inclination to sit here and explain anything while you insult me.”

  I opened the door to leave, and two large security men blocked the exit.

  I throat-punched the first guy, and before he even collapsed, I launched a snap side kick at the other guy's kneecap. Both men dropped, the kneecap guy howling in pain, the throat guy gasping for breath. I did a shoulder roll over them, landed on my feet like Jackie Chan on a good day, and strode down the hallway.

  Brenda poked her head out as I was turning the corner. I glanced back and she made a phone receiver with her thumb and pinkie, mouthing the words, Call me. I gave her a thumbs-up and kept walking.

  I wasn't concerned about the big guys. DGI had plenty of healers on staff, so neither was in any danger of permanent injury. I just wish I could have seen the look on my sister's face when I went right through her guys like they were nothing. Amount to this, Monica.

  In the reception office, I smiled at Stacey. “I'd like my gun, please.”

  She looked unsure.

  “I'm not going to shoot you or anyone else here. But I do need it, so you're going to hand it to me before I get pissed.”

  “Okay,” she said and pulled the gun from behind her counter. She expertly removed the magazine and thumbed the chambered round out of the weapon. She passed the gun to me. “But I'm keeping the magazine and bullets.”

  I shook my head. “I may need those,” I said and stepped behind the counter.

  She leaned away from me, and I snatched the magazine and bullet.

  “Have a nice day,” I said and left the offices of DGI.

  Wizards are assholes.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “I'll bring you what you need, but you'll have to sleep with me,” Brenda said.

  That wasn't how the conversation started, but it was my favorite moment. After all, how many times does a guy have a beautiful woman practically begging him for sex?

  It started like this.

  As I waited for a cab to get back to the hotel, I placed a call to Brenda. Yeah, I know, the Smart Guy's Guide to Picking Up Women says if you get a number, don't call her for four days minimum, but if I waited that long, people would die. Don't take away my Man Card.

  “This is Brenda.” Her voice was sultry.

  “And this is Jonathan,” I said. As I spoke, I peeled my shirt back to check my wound and was surprised to see the blood coagulating.

  “Hang on a second,” she said. I heard a snap. “All right, I can talk more freely now. Had to engage a stealth spell.”

  “Handy.”

  “Your sister is pissed.”

  “Good.”

  “She told me I'm not allowed to have sex with you.”

  “She told me to steer clear of you too,” I said.

  “Do you always do what your sister tells you?” she asked.

  “Not often.”

  “Good. I want to help you.”

  “I can use the help.”

  “I'm going to have to jump through some hoops here to get access to a few manuscripts in the Vault, so I need some time.”

  “How much time?”

  “Tomorrow after work. Around seven or so.”

  “I'll buy you dinner.”

  “I'll be hungry.”

  I found myself smiling. “You'll be doing the city a great service. The necromancer
is killing people.”

  “You'll be doing me a great service, Jonathan.”

  “I don't mind taking one for the team.”

  She laughed. “You're such a guy.”

  “Indeed I am.”

  “But a guy who won't turn to stone at my touch.”

  “Oh, if you touch me right, I'll get hard.”

  “I'm counting on that too. Okay, where are you staying?”

  “Are you going to tell my sister?”

  “She's already tracking you using traffic cams and probably your cell phone GPS.”

  “Is she going to send anyone after me?”

  Brenda hesitated. “She might. I'll try to find out for you. And I'll find what we need to deal with the Ellis Island necromancer.”

  “Is that what you're calling it?”

  “Him,” Brenda said. “While you were with your sister, I checked our files, and back in the fifties, we accepted a commission to kill and bind a necromancer on Ellis Island. It has to be your guy. His name was Gustav Reinhardt. He was using the energy of the dead to kill people on the island. Near as I can tell, he was a Nazi experiment gone wrong, and hoped to single-handedly win the war.”

  “Sounds like a charmer.”

  “I'll pull the actual file since the computer doesn't have all the details. That means getting to the Vault. So here's the deal.”

  “I'm listening.”

  “I'll bring you what you need, but you'll have to sleep with me.” Sorry, when a woman tells me that, I have to repeat it.

  “Twist my arm,” I said.

  “Oh, you like the rough stuff?”

  And we kept talking for a while.

  ***

  That evening, I sat on the hotel bed watching a pretty good movie with Esther called Predestination. After all the shit I'd been through with Henry Winslow, I didn't want to watch a time-travel movie, but Esther insisted because she likes Ethan Hawke, and I agreed because it was Esther asking. Turns out the flick was based on a short story by Robert A. Heinlein. As the film ended, a knock sounded on my door. Esther popped outside and back inside.

  “It's Kelly.”

  “I thought she left,” I said.

  “So did I.”

  I opened the door. “I know the funds went through,” I said. “I checked.”

  “They did. Thank you. May I come in?”

  I stepped aside and let her enter. She walked over, turned off the television, and sat on the bed. I stood by the restroom door, leaning against the wall.

  “What can I do for you?” I asked.

  “I got a call from your sister this afternoon.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “I talked to her for maybe a minute.”

  “So you want another million bucks for pain and suffering?” I asked.

  “Don't be an asshole,” Kelly said.

  “Evidently it's in my nature.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Sorry. Why are you here?”

  “You went to see your sister,” Kelly said.

  “So?”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to hire someone from DGI.”

  “I thought you were just going to call them. Pay for some advice or something. Whatever's going on must have gotten worse.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Because you went to see your sister,” Kelly said.

  “You're going off to places unknown. What difference does it make?”

  “What happened?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Your sister hates you.”

  “Your point?”

  Esther got up and slapped her ghostly hands at me. “Stop it, Jonathan! Kelly wants to help!”

  “The ghost is right,” Kelly said. “I thought a bit about what you said. I think I should stay and help you because we can save a few lives. So should we maybe go talk to that Isabel woman?”

  “Isabel is dead.”

  “What? When did that happen?”

  “Last night. Does it matter?”

  “How?”

  “Smoke demon clawed her open, and the wounds wouldn't heal.”

  “You got her to a healer at DGI?”

  “She died at the hospital last night. No healers.”

  “Show her your scratch,” Esther said.

  “You were injured?” Kelly asked.

  “It's just a scratch. It bled for a while but seems to have stopped now.”

  “Fine. So let me get this straight,” Kelly said. “The smoke creature is a necromancer?”

  I shrugged. “Gustav Reinhardt. Near as I can figure, the necromancer died or maybe nearly died on the island, but managed to use his magic to reanimate himself using the pain and suffering of the people around him. Someone at DGI helped bind him back in the day.”

  “So let's go kill him.”

  “And how do you propose we do that? The guy turns to smoke on impact.”

  “Throw him in a jet engine?”

  “He'll reassemble.”

  “Catch him in jars and keep them separate?”

  “That would take a lot of jars.”

  “You're rich. You can afford them.”

  “Doesn't matter,” I said. “I made a friend at DGI. She's going to help.”

  “I hope she'll be more help than the Denver office,” Esther said. “Remember when Miranda needed her heart replaced?”

  Kelly frowned. “No.”

  “But you were . . .” Esther stopped for a moment. “The other Kelly.”

  Kelly looked at Esther. “You and I have zero shared experience, ghost girl. I don't know you. I don't know Jonathan either. He's not like my Jonathan.”

  “I am but I'm not,” I said. “We lived very different lives.”

  “So I've gathered.”

  “Can you get past that?”

  “I don't know. I don't like the way you two look at me. I'm not the woman you knew either.”

  “Ain't that the truth,” Esther said. “Our Kelly would never have abandoned us.”

  “I'm here now,” Kelly said.

  Esther got right in Kelly's face. “But if you'd been there last night, maybe Isabel would still be alive.”

  “Maybe if my Jonathan had been there, he wouldn't have let her die. You ever consider that?”

  “No,” Esther said. “My Jonathan is the real deal. The only thing your Jonathan could do better was die.”

  “Esther,” I said, “that's enough.”

  “She started it.”

  “I don't care who started it. Throwing blame around doesn't do anybody any good. Isabel's death is on me. I was there. I should have found a way to save her. I can carry that weight because I won't stop until I end the thing that killed her.”

  “That sounds more like my Jonathan,” Kelly said.

  “I'll make you a deal,” I said. “You stop talking about your Jonathan and I'll stop talking about my Kelly.”

  She stared at me for a moment, pursed her lips, and nodded. “You're right.”

  “Thank you. Now I have some work to do.”

  I walked over to the table in front of the large window. My laptop sat there, screen dark. I tapped it to bring it out of sleep mode, hopped online, and started doing research.

  “Anything I can help with?” Esther asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “I'm going back to my room,” Kelly said. “Come get me when it's time to kick some ass.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I called Martin and told him to grab Dr. Anderson, Stuart, and anyone else they could get and to meet us at Battery Park by the harbor. I figured it was appropriate because in the years before Ellis Island opened, immigrants were processed at Castle Clinton. It used to be a fort to defend against a potential British invasion. Back then, the D-shaped structure had been on its own tiny island, but they filled in the harbor with landfill and now it was part of the mainland.

  As Brenda didn't get off work until late afternoon, I set our meeting time at 7:00. Castl
e Clinton was closed at that hour. I leaned against the red sandstone wall and gazed out at the harbor toward Ellis Island. Kelly stood nearby, a sword strapped to her back. Esther cruised around the area to spot everyone as they arrived.

  At 7:15 Kelly sighed. “I think we've been stood up.”

  “Traffic?” I said.

  “Aren't they taking the subway?”

  I shrugged. “No clue.”

  At 7:25 I started pacing.

  Esther stopped beside me and shook her head. “Nobody's coming,” she said.

  I tried calling Martin: voice mail. I tried calling Brenda: same result.

  “Well,” I said, “at least it's a nice night to chill by the harbor.”

  “Um, Jonathan?” Esther said and pointed behind me.

  I turned.

  A darkness darker than the night coalesced into humanoid form. The entity had no distinct facial features, and as it stepped toward me, I saw puffs of black smoke burst from beneath its feet. The smoke swirled out then joined the body again.

  It nodded to me and held its arms out to the sides. Its fingers extended into long claws. It spoke, but the words were German, and I couldn't understand them.

  Kelly stepped forward and drew her sword. “Ready to play?” she said with a smile.

  “I could pull up Deep Purple's 'Smoke on the Water,' on my phone,” I said with a grin.

  “Not funny,” Kelly said. “Want me to slice it up?”

  I closed the distance so I stood ten feet from the shadowy entity. “This is my party.”

  “Your call,” Kelly said and stood back, sword still ready.

  “Hello, Gustav,” I said. “Any chance you speak English?”

  The entity solidified and a mouth formed and opened. It said something else in German. Then a chorus of screams burst from its throat like a discordant power chord from a demonic guitar.

  “That's what she said,” I said.

  It let loose another screaming chorus, and I launched myself forward.

  I darted in, feinted high, and went low to go beneath the slashing claws. Unfortunately I passed right through the legs of the entity. Puffs of smoke burst ahead of me, and I hit the ground hard. I managed to roll with it back to my feet and spun to face another attack.

  But the entity slashed at Kelly instead.