Modern Sorcery: A Jonathan Shade Novel (13 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“So that conniving, little bitch lied to us,” Kelly said as we approached the car.

The afternoon sun hung over the Rockies as I unlocked the passenger door of the Firebird.
 
“We don’t know that for sure.”
 
I ran through the possibilities for her.
 
She didn’t buy any of them.

“I don’t trust her.”

“Play a new song, Kelly.”

“You know how I love the classics,” she said and ducked into the car.

By the time I’d walked around to the driver’s side, Kelly had already leaned over to unlock the door for me.
 
I always figured that anyone who would reach over and unlock the door was a keeper.
 
Of course, Kelly wasn’t someone I’d want to date.
 
Granted, she’s smoking hot, but she’s also more like a big sister to me, so it would feel weird.
 
Besides, I do have a simple rule when it comes to relationships: never date a girl who can kick your ass.

“Let’s review,” I said as I started the engine.

“Boring.”

“I just want to make sure we’re not missing anything here.
 
If we can talk it through, I might let you kill someone later.”

Kelly almost smiled.
 
“Tease.”

I pulled into traffic.
 
“Okay.
 
One wizard kills another, claims not to remember it, then kills himself.
 
Naomi hires me to prove the old boy’s innocent, which should eliminate your theory about her knowingly lying to us.”

“How so?”

I-25 was a parking lot, but it was still the easiest way back to the dojo.
 
It gave us plenty of time to talk.

“Why hire me at all?”

“Maybe she wants to get laid and has to pay for it.”

“You know better than that,” I said.
 
“I never charge for sex.”

“You never get the chance.”

“Ouch.”

“Look, Jonathan, it’s obvious that she has ulterior motives here.
 
Why hire you?
 
I don’t think she cares if you prove her daddy innocent.
 
I think it’s got everything to do with that crystal.”

“Or crystals, plural.
 
But why not just hire me for that?
 
I’d have taken that job for her with no problem.”

“You’d have taken any job for her.
 
She’s got you by the heart, so you’ll always be her little bitch.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“You’re worse.
 
And I’m afraid it’s going to get you killed.
 
It’s one thing when you’re looking into a murder or even looking for crystals that allegedly hold the soul of an ancient sorcerer.
 
It’s quite another when that ancient sorcerer is loose.”

“So maybe it’s about this Ravenwood clown.
 
Maybe he’s trying to possess wizards to regain a physical presence in the world.
 
Al, Cantrell, and the rest always complain about magic dying, and we know that Ravenwood was supposedly one of the most powerful sorcerers in history.”

“So we’ve been told.”

“Granted, it’s all hearsay.
 
We don’t really know anything about Blake Ravenwood other than what we’ve heard.
 
That means it’s research time.”
 
I pulled out my cell and scrolled through the names until I came to Sharon.
 
Then I pressed send.

The phone rang three times before Sharon answered.
 
She worked as a research librarian at CU Boulder.
 
“Library,” she said.

“Hey, Sharon, it’s Jonathan Shade.
 
How’s life, the universe, and everything?”

“What do you need?”

“Right to the point.
 
I can’t just call to say hi?”

“Like that would ever happen.
 
I repeat, what do you need?”

I made a note to call her in a few days just to say hello.
 
“Research assistance,” I said.

“You do tend to have better questions than most.”

Sharon kept a collection of enough stupid questions she’d received in the past year that she could publish a book.
 
Of course, that would compromise her position at the library, so she shared them with only a few lucky souls who needed a good laugh.

“What’s your favorite question of the day?” I asked.

“Some brainiac called and asked me which country the Salvation Army defends.”

I laughed.
 
“Who says education is on the decline?”

“I do.
 
What’s your question?”

“It’s a bit more than a simple question.
 
I need to know anything you can tell me about a man named Blake Ravenwood.”

“Any relation to Abner?”

“It’s not movie related.
 
This guy lived in the 1600s.”

I heard her fingers tapping away on a keyboard.
 
“I’ve got nothing from a quick search.
 
What more can you tell me?”

“He’ll probably be in European history and might only turn up in texts dealing with sorcery, alchemy, and the like.”

“Hmm.
 
I may need to access the Forbidden Texts,” she said, and her voice seemed to drip with delight.
 
“That could take a few hours.
 
I’ll have to call you back.
 
Oh, and it’s going to cost you.”

“It always does.”

“I want to go to a Rockies game.”

“It’s a date.”

“No, it’s a payment.
 
I’ll bring my own date, and you’re not invited.”

“Oh, like a stake through the heart.”

She laughed.
 
“Sorry, darling.
 
You know I like you, but I’ve had enough adventure for twenty lifetimes.
 
I want to find a quiet man and settle down.
 
I want a man who will always come home in one piece.”

“Hey, I always come out okay.”

“You didn’t come out okay three years ago, and you need to know that I won’t always be there to bring you back.
 
So I want two Rockies tickets and two silver dollars.
 
Got it?”

“Done.”
 
I hung up and worked my way across a few lanes of traffic to my exit.
 
“Sharon’s working on it,” I said.

“I like her, Jonathan.
 
She’s pretty cool for a librarian.”

“Librarian by day, Wonder Woman by night.”

“Sounds like the headline to a personal ad.”

I pulled into the parking lot in front of the dojo and shut off the engine.
 
Kelly started to get out, but I put a hand on her shoulder.
 
She looked at me.

“I know Naomi ranks two notches above Hitler in your book, but please don’t accuse her of anything.”

“Oh, she’s at least four notches above Hitler.
 
All I’m saying is that she hired you for a reason, and I suspect it’s something that could get you killed.”

“You’ve got my back, though.”

“I can’t always be there to protect you.”

Lot of that going around.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

We entered the dojo with two middle-aged women who were there for their women’s self-defense class.
 
Inside, there were another eight women busy doing stretches on the tatami mats in front of the full-length mirrors.
 
Naomi sat on a bench, watching them.
 
Esther stood on the mats, working through stretches with the women.
 
I couldn’t imagine how stretching would help a ghost, but I didn’t say anything about it to her.

Kelly glanced at the clock; it was five minutes to five.

“I need to grab a shower,” she said.
 
“Can you lead the class until I come down?”

“What should I teach them?” I asked.

“It’s their second class.
 
Go with the combs.”

I nodded.
 
“You got it.”

Another woman entered the dojo.
 
“Am I late?”

“Class starts in a few minutes,” Kelly said.

“Oh, good.”

Kelly clapped her hands, and the students all gave her their undivided attention.
 
“Hey, everyone, I’ll be down in a few minutes.
 
My friend Jonathan is going to start the class.”

The women looked at me.
 
A few of them smiled.

“Oh, he’s cute,” one of them said.

“Don’t tell him that,” Kelly said.
 
“It will go straight to his head.
 
See you in a few.”

I took off my shoes and padded onto the mats.
 
“Is everyone here?”

The woman who thought I was cute did a quick head count.
 
“I think we’re waiting on Margie.”

“Well, it’s not quite five.
 
Let’s give her a few minutes.
 
Everyone keep stretching.”

I approached Naomi.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“It didn’t.”
 
I told her about the empty floor, and she seemed surprised by the news.
 
If she were acting, she’d been giving lessons to Meryl Streep.

“And?” she said.

“I think they lied to you.”

“Al must have known I’d tell you where they were.”

“He doesn’t like me.”

“I don’t think he cares one way or the other about you.
 
He’s not a big fan of Kelly, though.”

“Really?” I said and sat down.
 
I rubbed my ribs, which still ached.
 
“Because she’s a Sekutar?
 
Does he know she considers herself a ronin?”

“That’s part of what scares him.”

“What are you not telling me?”

She sighed.
 
“Ravenwood is a major threat, Jonathan.
 
If he can control Sekutar, that means he can control Kelly.”

The door opened and a pudgy woman entered.
 
She clutched her purse as if it held her life savings.
 
I made a wild guess that it was Margie.

“Sorry I’m late,” Margie said.

“No problem,” I said.

“Who are you?”

“I’m filling in for Kelly for a few minutes.”

“But Kelly’s here, right?”

“She’s upstairs.”
 
I turned to Naomi.
 
“Nobody can control Kelly, so don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

I held up a hand.
 
“We’ll talk later.”
 
I pushed myself to my feet and called the class to order.
 
I had the women join Naomi on the benches.

I opened Kelly’s weapons case and removed a package of plastic combs.
 
They were yellow and had handles.
 
I opened the pack, handed a comb to each of the women, and kept one for myself.

“Today,” I said, “we’re going to talk about the value of combs.”

“This isn’t a beauty class,” Margie said.
 
She held her purse in her lap with both hands.
 
“It’s supposed to be self-defense.”

“Exactly,” I said.
 
“And a comb is a great item to have with you at all times.”

They looked at me as if I were crazy.

“In some self-defense classes, they teach you to carry your car keys with you as you go to your car.”

I pulled out my keys and held them so one key stuck out from between the index and middle finger of my right hand.

“They say that if you’re attacked, you should punch your attacker with a key like so.”
 
I demonstrated a simple punch.

“There are problems with this, of course.
 
For one thing, you’re going to cut up your fingers in the process.
 
While that’s better than getting raped, a far better way to go is to prevent the attack altogether.”

“And a comb will do that?” someone asked.

“A lot better than keys,” I said.
 
“The fact is that if you’re carrying a comb with you, most attackers will see that you have something in your hand, but they won’t necessarily see that it’s a comb.
 
It could be a weapon, so odds are they’ll wait for easier prey.
 
Part of this is situational awareness.
 
If you look like you’re ready for action, it goes a long way toward keeping you safe.”

“But if they attack you, wouldn’t it be better to have a knife or gun?” Margie asked.

“Depends.
 
Are you skilled with a knife or a gun?
 
What if the attacker takes those away from you?
 
Now you’ve given them a weapon to use against you.
 
But if they take away the comb, what are they going to do?
 
Fix your hair for you?”

This got a laugh.

“Let’s say you’re carrying the comb and some moron does try to attack you.
 
You simply slash the attacker’s face with the comb.”
 
I demonstrated a simple swipe that used one of the handwork patterns Kelly always introduced in her first class.
 
“Now not only have you marked your attacker for the police lineup, but you also have DNA evidence to back you up.”
 
I pointed to the end of the comb.

“Can I try?” Margie asked.

“Sure.”

She set her purse aside and approached me, holding her comb.

“I’ll attack and you defend,” I said.

She started to walk past me, and I grabbed her.
 
She spun and with an incredible fury, she slashed at me with the comb.
 
I dodged the attack.

“Whoa, Margie.
 
Calm down.”

She didn’t calm down.
 
“Combs are useless,” she said and pulled a gun from her waistband.
 
“I want more stopping power.”

Where the hell did she get a damn gun?
I wondered.
 
When she pointed it at me, I darted in and slapped the gun to the side, away from the women on the bench.
 
She fired as I moved, but the shot went wide.
 
A gun is a fixed weapon, so it’s dangerous only when it’s pointed at you.
 
As I slapped the gun hand to the side, I grabbed her wrist and twisted hard.
 
She dropped the gun.
 
I swept her feet and slammed her to the floor a little harder than I would in a normal demonstration.

At that moment, Kelly returned.
 
“Who the hell fired a gun in my dojo?”

She saw me holding Margie down while the rest of the class stared in slack-jawed silence.

“Jonathan?”

I looked up at Kelly.
 
“Your student tried to kill me.”

“Get off her,” Kelly said.

I did as she said.
 
Kelly helped Margie to her feet.
 
“Are you okay?”

Margie answered by trying to claw Kelly’s eyes.
 
Kelly caught her hands and twisted them inward, pushing her to the floor again.
 
Margie gasped in pain.

“I don’t think this is Margie,” Kelly said.

“You think?”

“What the fuck?” Kelly said and released Margie.
 
Kelly jumped back and shook her hands as if she’d been stung.
 
She doesn’t really feel pain, so it was something else.

Naomi approached but I pushed her toward the bench.
 
“Stay back.”

Margie climbed to her feet.
 
“You’re better than I thought,” she said.

“Kelly, you cool?”

“Something tried to enter me,” Kelly said.

Margie laughed.
 
“You’re very fast,” she said to Kelly then turned to me.
 
“You’re slower, but this body has severe limitations.”

“Ravenwood?”

“In someone else’s flesh.”
 
Margie’s voice and body but Ravenwood’s spirit.
 
Ravenwood turned to Kelly.
 
“You should join me.
 
I have a place for a warrior like you.”

“Fuck off,” Kelly said.

“If you change your mind, the offer stands.”
 
Ravenwood turned to me.
 
“I may have a use for you too, though I suspect you won’t see things my way and I may have to kill you.”

“You may have to kill me?
 
You sound regretful.”

Ravenwood laughed.
 
“Only a little.”

Naomi tried to approach, but I held her back.
 
“Don’t.”

Ravenwood-as-Margie smiled.
 
“We’ll talk later,” she said.
 
Then she reached up, took hold of her chin with one hand, and the top of her head with the other.
 
She gave a savage twist.
 
The sick sound of snapping bones filled the dojo.
 
Margie crumpled to the floor.