A Prison of Worlds (The Chained Worlds Chronicles Book 1) (19 page)

As
I was leaving, I had the doormen call me a cab.  Physically, I was fine, but a
headache of monumental proportions lurked in the wings and I really didn't want
to walk to a pay vid.  The car flew down within minutes; doubtless the cabs
fought over the rich territories.  I rested my eyes as we flew home; the lights
from the floating ads illuminated my eyelids as we moved out of the richer
section of the city.  It was still the middle of the night, and the vehicle was
almost silent except for a muffled rush of air.  Fortunately, the driver wasn't
a talker.

When
we landed, I gave the driver an account number to charge, along with a generous
tip.  He still gave me a glare, I suppose he was used to people just beaming
the credit information over through their implants.  Well, I guess he'd have to
work his fingers for this tip.  I tried to be sympathetic and failed miserably
as I walked to the door, threw it open, and ripped my stained and tattered
shirt off and tossed it into the recycler on the way to the shower.  At the
rate I was going through clothes, I would have to get Jeremy to redo my
wardrobe.

“Well,
far be it for me to complain about letting it all hang out, but I hardly know
you,” a female voice called out as I had my hands on my pants.  I blearily
turned around to see Mei dressed up in a cozy pink night robe with ruffles
around the neck and cuffs.  I removed my hand from my pants and covered a yawn.

“Oh,
hey Mei, what's up,” I yawned again.

“Your
clothes look like you were skating on broken glass,” she offered cheerily.  The
description was rather too close to what had happened to me so I just grunted. 
“Jeremy told me that you were going to speak with the master of the city.  Did
they not take it well?”

“Hmm,
it was about what I was expecting but less than I had hoped,” I tiredly spoke. 
“Give me time to take a shower and a nap and I'll fill you in.”

She
nodded and turned away.  I was not at my best, but I couldn't help but notice
that she wore her sword on the back of her robe.  Usually it just vanished. 
Hung on her back, it looked out of place; it really didn't match.  Maybe I
would buy her a pink scabbard if she was still around for Christmas.  Sighing
tiredly, I slouched off towards the shower.  Once inside I casually ripped off
the pants and stepped into the shower.  Like most of my possessions, it hailed
back over a hundred years.  It was a bit more expensive to install and maintain;
however, the sonic showers were deeply unsatisfying, even if I didn't have the
hearing of a shifter or a vampire.

Ignoring
the normal spigot, I slapped the big red button on the wall with “DANGER”
engraved on it and enjoyed the hissing sound as boiling water sprayed from all
four nozzles around the chamber.  I just stood and let myself relax as I
enjoyed the heat and fizzing sensation of the water.  I had wanted to have
saltwater holding tanks installed so I could have superheated water, but it
just wasn't worth the hassle even when money wasn't a real concern.

As
my muscles slowly relaxed, I grabbed the soap, a slab of pumice, and started to
scrub hard enough that powdered bits of rock started to collect at the drain. 
After twenty minutes, I was finally feeling almost myself.  Turning off the
water, I grabbed a nice big towel and draped it over myself.  As I opened the
bathroom door, the steam billowed out, making a nice contrast to the warmth.  I
heard a startled exclamation from another part of the house, and called out, “Give
me an hour and I'll be ready.  There's an air horn in the kitchen if I won't
wake up.”  I only intended to meditate for a bit.  As tired as I was, if I
started sleeping, I literally may not wake up for a week.

Fortunately,
the horn was not required.  An hour later, the pounding in my head had subsided
to a faint ache behind my eyes, and a small amount of my reserves had come back
to me.  I wouldn't want to do any tricks at the moment, but it also meant I
wasn't trying to think through a haze.  I shrugged into a new set of clothes
and walked into the living room while stretching my arms behind me, allowing
the stretch and tension to soothe me as subtle pops sounded in my joints. 
Sometimes, this form felt so cramped.  I am sure it was all in my mind, but the
stretching helped.

Mei
sat slumped over in the recliner, and the antique vid player was replaying one
of my old videos.  The original version was black and white, but she had turned
on the three-dimensional simulation and the wall looked more like window into
another room rather than an old style movie.  I stopped and stared, a bit
nonplussed.  I kept that feature off for a reason; a three-dimensional image
without auras gave me a head ache as my mind tried to see more than was there. 
A two-dimensional image looked fake enough that I didn't subconsciously try to
fill in the blanks.  Mei had nodded off, so I moved over to the vid and turned
it off.  I was glad she hadn't turned on the voice control or Class IV AI. 
That completely creeped me out.  It also tended to explode soon after.

I
reached over to shake her awake, and with only a slight tingle of my sixth
sense found myself on the floor face first on the floor with my arm stretched
behind me in a submission hold.  I looked over my shoulder and said, “You
really know how to sweep a man off his feet.”

“Oh,
sorry, you surprised me,” she apologized sleepily as she released my arm.  I
got up and stretched again.  That had actually felt pretty good.

“No
problem, you look tired,” I noted as I saw her sleepy eyes.  She fell back to
the chair again.

“It's
just politics.  It's in turn boring, infuriating, and tense,” she yawned and
rested her head on her arm.  “And yet it's frowned upon to rip someone's spleen
out while trying to convince them to do something.”

“That
doesn't sound good,” I offered sympathetically.

“It
actually went far better than I had hoped.  Conrad has already made his rounds
and beaten the stubborn ones.  All I had to do was follow up and set out the
plan.”

“Okay...
that sounds good,” I hesitantly stated.

“Bah,
werewolves are just cantankerous.  Everything is about pack status. 
Supercilious little pricks,” her voice died down to a mutter.  “I had to challenge
the beta and beat him bloody to get them to stop trying to one up me and do
something.”  She gave a slight smile at the memory.  “Tomorrow, I'll speak to
the panther pack.  They have less of an attitude problem, but they have
horrible organization.”

“Like
herding cats,” I said nodding, repeating Conrad's observation.

She
stared at me a moment before her mouth twitched.  “Yes, exactly.  Shouldn't be
any fights though, just a matter of lots of micromanagement.  How did your part
go, you looked like you went through the grinder, and your clothes had taken up
religion.”

I
sat on the couch and propped up my feet.  Staring off through the window in
thought, I answered, “Should we be worried that Jin has so thoroughly cowed the
vampire's Grand Council that they would rather see this city literally go to
hell than confront him?”

For
a moment, Mei looked surprised.  Then an expression of resignation spread
across her face.  “I shouldn't be surprised.  I am, but after all this time I
shouldn't be.”

I
had an idea of what Jin had done to the vampires, so I didn't say anything.  My
little infiltration trick wasn't really genius on my part.  It was more logic
and instinct.  Why fight through an enemy’s armies when you can sneak your way
to the top and decapitate them directly?  If Jin was such a great mage, as
people seemed to think, he probably hadn't developed mental abilities such as
mine.  Very few have that combination.  However, almost all breeds of my race
are skilled shape changers, and magic tends to be more flexible than psionics
even if it's not as good at subtlety or mind manipulation.  Assuming Jin was a
dragon... or even major demon, chances are Jin simply took on the shape of a
lieutenant, found them alone, and killed the councilmen one at a time. 

A
vampire, no matter how old, will die in one bite and swallow from a dragon and
many large demons.  Sure, they taste terrible and they give you serious gas for
a few days, but they never come back from that.  Just the thought twisted my
mouth in disgust; I have never tasted anything as bad as the undead.  I may be
immune to poison, but some things almost make you wish they would kill you. 
Just make sure you don't swallow them while they are wielding a rune weapon. 
That is pretty much suicide, and any sensible supernatural predator knows
better. 

“Hey
now, he's scary, but the lady from the council gave the go ahead for the master
of the city to gather information for us.  We'll have the location of the dimensional
interstices in a week or two.”

“The
what?”

“The
nodes.”

“Well,
I suppose we should be grateful for that,” she said doubtfully.

“I
wouldn't expect them to participate in our glorious charge upon the empire of
evil, but they don't want the gates to hell to open any more than we do,” I
added cheerily, as I slowly stood up, stretched again and walked over the
fridge.  I had promised myself a decent feast with no poisons added.  Maybe a
little grated silver or gold though.  I really had no idea it tasted so good. 
Seems a bit of a waste though.

Mei
looked at my back with an expressionless stare.  “Evil Empire.  Right.”

“Jin
isn't going to go away on his own.  The vampires say he's been around for
hundreds of years.  You can't just ask him to leave and expect it to work.” 
Besides, if he left he might take his books with him.  If we could kill him
quickly enough, we might get to an unguarded stash.  The books would probably
be magically sealed, but I had to keep hoping.

“I
know that,” the tiny Asian exclaimed as she stomped over in her robe and pink
slippers.  “I have been after him for more years than you can imagine.  It
would just be nice to have a little support.”

“Well,
you got me and probably Conrad and maybe the shifter packs,” she snorted at
this.  Apparently she had some doubt about how cohesive the packs were.  I
ignored her and continued, “And depending on how fast the mayor can get his
butt in gear, you just may have Conrad's special crimes force behind you.”

“Is
that actually happening?  It makes sense, but it would be a first in the
country,” she mused, distracted from her gloom.  “Wait a minute.  Conrad's
going to be in charge?”

“He
is the mayor's golden boy and you say he's the packs abattoir,” I teased her
with a smile.  I was rewarded with a snort of laughter.  She had really
loosened up.  I think the silk robe must have relaxed her.  Or maybe kicking
some werewolf's ass had acted as stress relief.

“That’s
pack arbitrator.” I think she muttered something about a nitwit but I was
burying my own amusement in a ham sandwich.  The larger foodstuffs had been
eaten earlier by my guests and I would have to settle for a smaller fare than I
would have preferred.  Since I arrived in the city, hunger had been a constant
companion to me.

“Anyway,
chances are that the real danger won't be until the solstice or equinox so we
have a little bit of time.  Worst case, it's a few weeks.  If luck is with us,
we could have a veritable army by then.  Which is good because our bad little
wizard seems to have some shifters of his own under his thumb.”  She grunted in
agreement, and pushed me out of her way as she dug into the fridge for her own
late night snack.  “Have you asked the pack about any new or strange shifters
in town?  I thought you guys were loony over territory.”

She
froze in her preparations.  Guess she hadn't.  “Good idea,” she grudgingly
admitted.  “I suppose I'm not used to having support. I didn't think of that. 
Usually, I have to mince around the packs in order to get permission to move
around a city without being challenged at every corner.  I'll ask Conrad to
look into it.”  She seemed to sense my raised eyebrow.  “He's the arbitrator. 
It's his job.  Inter-pack politics makes me want to gut them all.”

“By
the way, where's Jeremy?” I asked her, getting a fourth sandwich ready.

“He
had to go home to sleep,” I turned to look at her.  Usually, if there was an
emergency he stayed the night in one of the spare rooms.  Well, not the last
time he got shot but...  “He couldn't sleep.  Humans get nervous around
vampires and shifters.”

I
stopped mid-bite.  I had forgotten that no other supernatural bothered to hide
their aura.  Or maybe they just didn't have the awareness and control.  Of
course Jeremy couldn't sleep here.  I was getting pretty good at basic wards
and minor circles.  Maybe I would go and ward one of the bedrooms to keep out the
excess energies my new guests were putting out.  Just carve it into the wall
and use a patch kit to cover it.

“I
guess it's just as well, he needs his sleep so I shouldn't disturb him until
tomorrow.” It’s not like I could anyway, since I didn't have a working vid terminal
in the house.  Maybe he had fixed it along with the holo player function, but
it would likely break down again within a day. “I'll go to the market tomorrow
and call him from there, when I go shopping for food.  Again.”  Shaking my head
as I looked at the empty fridge.  Geez, wasn't it full this morning?