The Light Who Shines (34 page)

Blackwater starts dragging me forward, taking long steps
while I stumble behind him, attempting to stand. He drags me a few feet through
the darkness, and we turn a corner just as the shock wears off me. I see a
light ahead, and we appear to be in some sort of cave or tunnel. I am
not
going wherever it is he’s taking me!

I shout, “Let me go, you sleaze bucket!” I dig my heels into
floor, which feels like impacted dirt.

Still pulling at me, Blackwater turns his head and speaks over
his shoulder in a singsong voice, “Just a little further, my dear Bluebell.”

What in the Great Abyss? He’s freaking crazy! Trying to stop
our advancement any way I can, I start jerking myself backwards. Blackwater’s
grip still bites cruelly into my right arm, so I reach behind me with my left
arm and try to grab my gun out of my hip holster. I fumble with my Glock in my
left hand, and it slips to the ground. Blast it! I drop all my weight on the
ground so Blackwater doesn’t pull me away from my gun. Blackwater still has my
right arm, and I stretch out, reaching for the gun with my left. My fingers are
just inches away. I’m straining, but I just can’t reach it.

He starts to move toward me as if to stop me, but his
movement gives me some blessed slack instead, which is just what I need.
Stretching my arm to its fullest, I finally grasp the handle of my gun. Just as
I do, Blackwater jumps on me and pins my left arm under his right. He twists my
wrist, and the pain shocks me into dropping the gun again.

Holy smokes! Now I’m really in trouble.

I’m sprawled on a dirt floor, and Blackwater is on me,
holding my right arm and my left wrist. I see his twisted face sneering at me
in amusement. Suddenly I flash back to a vision of Schmidt pushing me against
the wall and ripping at my clothes. A fresh anger seethes through me, and I
start to wiggle and fight Blackwater madly now. I pull up my knee and hit him
in the groin, and I watch the amusement drain from his face as I keep kicking
and kneeing him.

Blackwater releases my left arm to grab at his crotch, and I
rake my fingers down his face. He lifts a hand to protect his face just as I
try to poke his eyeballs out. He grabs my wrist again, and I wriggle and writhe
to try to get away from him. He plants all his weight on one knee in the middle
of my abdomen, crushing me beneath him. Then he holds both my wrists over my
head and ignores my now ineffectual kicks and blows.

He picks up my gun. I look in his eyes and see nothing but
malice and insanity. I’m sure he’s going to kill me on the spot. I twist my
arms again, still trying desperately to free myself. I think about Jack and
Maud with longing, realizing I may never see them again. But Blackwater
surprises me by spinning the butt of the gun toward me and slamming it into my
skull. I feel a shock of pain rip through my head, and my vision is washed with
red. I feel myself go limp, then my vision tunnels and narrows to a pinpoint,
and finally I see nothing more.

Jack Tanner: June 2, 2022, Red Ages

I stand up behind my desk, and my chair goes crashing behind
me. The desk phone is still in my hand, and her voice still echoes in my ears.
“Tobias
is here!”

I feel a black rage flow up through my body like oil fills a
drum, and the pressure mounts and mounts until it explodes. I explode! I roar
my rage, so dark, so dense, a pain like nothing I’ve ever known.

Ernesto enters my office in a flash with his sword in hand.
When he sees it’s just me, he lowers his sword and stands just on the other
side of my desk, but he is still wary, as he should be. I feel crazed.

“What is it?” he asks. He stands in a defensive stance,
ready to jump me should the need arise.

I am still standing here with the desk phone in my hand,
slowly crushing it.

Xavier opens the door and steps in, gun drawn. Seeing no one
but Ernesto and I in the room, he puts his gun down but keeps behind Ernesto.

Then Rubalia’s ashen face appears. “What is going on?” she
demands shrilly. Her face is a mask of fear.

My senses are at their highest, and the tangy scent of my
colleagues’ blood fills my nostrils and hits me with a force. My fangs descend.

Somehow, with Rubalia’s demand, I am able to focus enough to
growl, “Tobias Blackwater has taken Blue. I need to call Gambino.”

Then I look dumbly at my phone in my hand and see that it
has been pulverized in my grip with plastic shards littering the carpet. My
blood is still pounding in my temples, and it is difficult to think straight.

Xavier says, “Use your cell phone in your holster.”

I feel for my cell phone and dial Gambino. When he answers,
I hear Varg in the background alternating between vicious grows and a haunting
howl. Gambino’s voice sounds rough, and he doesn’t bother with niceties. He
says, “I’m at Phantom Island. Blackwater portaled out with Blue just as I
arrived.”

I wince as I hear what I already know voiced out loud,
making it real.

“Stay there. I’m on my way.”

Ernesto has relaxed his stance a little. Perhaps he has more
faith in me than I do.

I close my eyes and reach deep inside myself for some
clarity of thought and some self-control. My heart screams “Blue!” but my mind
says, “Think of a plan. What should you do?”

I turn to Rubalia, who is still a ghastly shade of gray
beneath her brown skin, and her eyes are unnaturally shiny. “Rubalia, first I
want a list of all properties owned by Tobias Blackwater or any of his family.
Chime me as soon as you have it. Call Mike Kramer, the head of the Western
Appalachian Supernatural Investigation Bureau and let him know that one of our
colleagues has been kidnapped by a murder suspect and is in great danger. Tell
him that the suspect can portal, so we are going to have to operate covertly,
without reinforcements. Tell them that we may need some support for our regular
case load depending on how long this takes. We will keep them updated. I’m
going to need you here as Command Central.”

Rubalia nods, and I can see she has memorized these
instructions already. I add, “Please have a car packed with food and bags of
blood in a cooler in the parking lot of the Cock and Bull Tap. If we haven’t
found Blue by evening, we will need it.”

I turn to Ernesto and Xavier. “You’re with me. Meet me at
the car.”

I look around the room, and no one has moved. They’re all
staring at me like a still frame: Rubalia with her lips pinched and a quivering
chin, Xavier with a look of shock, and Ernesto with wariness and concern.

I’ve managed to speak calmly for a full minute, but the
inside of me is a swirling tempest of rage, battering at me, wearing at my
control. I need Xavier and Rubalia to leave my office because the scent of
their blood is too enticing while I’m in this state. My fangs are still fully
descended, and my throat is thickening. On the brink of losing complete
control, I raise my voice again, “Leave my office. Now!”

Rubalia startles and Xavier winces, and thankfully they both
scatter like rabbits. Ernesto leaves as well, but I can smell him outside my
door. He knows I’m tottering on the edge.

I quickly reach into the fridge under my desk and pull out
four bags of blood. I sink my fangs through the plastic of each consecutively,
mechanically, drinking but tasting nothing. It’s a precautionary action because
my rage is too strong and my instincts are besieging my mind. The last thing I
need is to let hunger take control.

When done, I toss the bags in the garbage can and go to my
closet. I assess my arsenal and choose my sword and scabbard, two
semi-automatic pistols, and a long knife. I take a moment to strap on my
holsters and knife sheath and carry my sword and scabbard out.

Ernesto is indeed standing sentinel outside my door, sword
in hand. I’m glad he is keeping close watch over me. If ever I needed a friend
to keep me in check, this is the moment. He follows me through the reception
area where I see Rubalia furiously typing on her computer with tears silently
streaking her face and her mouth set in a grim, determined line. I wish I could
give her comfort, but I have none to give. We pass her silently and walk out
the office door. On the way down the hall and stairwell, I whisper quietly
under my breath, for Ernesto’s ears alone, “Friend, my control is weak.”

Ernesto looks at me with his wise eyes full of sorrow and
whispers back, “I know, mi amigo. You are like I was when my Rosalie died. I
will watch you until you are yourself again.”

I smack his shoulder in approval.

When we arrive at the car, Ernesto takes the passenger seat
and Xavier the back. I’m flying down the road to Phantom Island, the scenery a
blur, before their doors are even shut. I’m singing a song of death in my mind,
and the song has Blackwater’s name in every chorus.

When we peel into the library parking lot, Gambino is
standing outside his car with Jason’s backpack on his hood. He’s on the phone
and flips it closed as I get out. His face is red and scowling as he says,
“Varg took off. I have three men from the force joining the search. I’ve
alerted the chief who’s alerting the mayor.” Then his eyes grab mine, and I see
a degree of my pain reflected in his. He says, “We shouldn’t have let her go out
alone.”

I bark with rage, not at him, but at myself. “I know, damn
it!” The guilt sits like a huge boulder in my chest, pressing down on me.

Then my chimerator tightens, and I flip open the lid
angrily. Rubalia says without preamble, “He has a family estate on the corner
of Lawrence and Wilson Street. 53 Lawrence Boulevard. His other properties are
all out of state.”

“Thanks Rubalia. Please file the emergency entry paperwork.
Hold on.” I look at Gambino, “Did you put a BOLO out on his car?”

Gambino nods.

“Did you notify airport security?”

“It is automatically part of the BOLO.”

I speak to Rubalia’s chimera. “Rubalia, can you also check
to see if he owns a private plane?”

“Of course.”

I flip the chimerator closed and open it again, chanting a
familiar name. A wild, melodious voice answers as an image comes into focus.
“The Dragomir Magical Artifact Shop.”

“Dragomira, it’s Jack. Blue has been taken. When someone has
the gift of portaling, how far is the range?”

Dragomira drags in a sharp breath, and then she says,
“Usually no more than two to three miles.”

Then her voice softens and she says gently, “Jack, I think
this may be your test. I am truly sorry.”

I flip the chimerator closed again, and my heart silently
cries out. A test that I’ve surely already failed! I run my fingers through my
hair, still staring at my chimerator while I get a grip. Two, maybe three
seconds pass; that is all the reprieve I’ll allow myself. Then I look at
Gambino. “Blackwater lives at 53 Lawrence Boulevard. Park a block away, and wait
for our approach. If she is there, I do not want him moving her.”

Gambino nods, and I run to my car and take off to
Blackwater’s residence with Ernesto and Xavier.

We arrive in an old neighborhood with, large elegant homes,
sprawling yards, and tree-lined streets. I park a block away from the property
line, and my team gets out.

I say, “I’ll take the roof. You two guard each entrance, but
stay hidden. I’ll start at the top and work my way down. I’ll whistle when you
can enter.”

We move silently forward. The house is an old brick Tudor
with plenty of entry points for persons of our skills. Xavier takes position in
front of the house behind a large black maple tree. Ernesto crouches below the
window line and slips around back. I go to the side of the house and scale it
quickly, gripping on to the bricks and timbers, listening for noises in the
house. Nothing but the normal squeaks of a house moving and air flowing through
vents greets my ears.

I quietly break the wood frame of a small, square attic
window and edge the glass out. When I slip through, I noiselessly place the
glass on the floor and proceed through the attic. It’s thick with dust as
evidence of its neglect. I quickly assess that it is used as a storage area and
is empty of human life. A brown bat colony that keeps vigil on the roof beams
starts to shudder and tremble when they smell my presence.

I descend down a rotted wood stairway to the second floor.
The landing door opens to a wide hallway lined with bedrooms, seven to be
exact. I smell no life, or death for that matter, but I do smell the lingering
scent of Blackwater and two other distinct human scents. The place reeks with
the stale scent of fear. But no scent of Blue. How I ache for the scent of
Blue!

I descend the stairs to the main level in a flash. So far
I’ve heard not a whisper or a breath in the house beyond the bats and a few
mice inside the walls. My heart grows colder and colder as each second makes it
clearer that Blue is most likely not here. I quickly tour the six main rooms downstairs
to confirm there is no life. I open the front and back doors and whistle Xavier
and Ernesto in. Gambino has joined Xavier in the front and comes in as well. I
see an unmarked car across the street with back-up for Gambino.

As they enter the house, I say, “She’s not here. The house
is empty, but we need to search it for clues. We’re looking for files listing
properties or associates, hidden safes, anything!”

Xavier says, “Let’s start in the office.” I follow his lead
because Xavier is my expert in this area.

Xavier starts by unlocking the large, ornate desk that takes
center stage in the room. He shifts through files in its drawers as Ernesto
heads to the file cabinet. I go to the fireplace and grab a long piece of
kindling and wrap one end in newspaper. I use my fangs to pierce my hand and
drip blood about halfway down the stick in a circle surrounding it to create a
rough fire stop. Then I start the newspaper end on fire with some matchsticks
on the mantel. As soon as the wood catches, I knock the newspaper into the
fireplace and close the flue. Then with my handmade torch I slowly examine the
interior walls of the room.

I wave the smoking torch next to the walls and bookcases and
gently blow it into cracks to watch it languorously curl its way back into the
room, proof there is no air seepage. When I get to a large mahogany panel
between two massive bookcases covered with hunting trophies, I see the smoke
slip in the crack between one bookcase and the panel and disappear. I check the
other side of the panel and the same thing happens. My excitement rises. “We
have a hidden door!”

Xavier jumps up to examine the panel. Using his excellent
intuition he grabs on to the deer antlers on the rightmost side of the panel
and gently pulls it down. The entire head of the deer levers down as though on
a hinge and then clicks in place. At the same time, the panel springs open and
bumps Xavier’s foot. Thank the Holy Light I brought Xavier along! “Good work,
Xavier!”

Xavier nods, fully absorbed in his task. He lives to meet
the challenge of every locked space as though claiming that no one can keep
secrets from him. He pulls the panel door open all the way to reveal a massive
steel door with an old-fashioned combination lock. Xavier pulls a tool out of
his pack. I gather it’s some sort of listening device by the way he presses it
to his ear then presses the other end to the vault just to the left of the
lock. He slowly turns the lock to the left, then to the right, then to the
left. His movements seem to be in excruciatingly slow motion. I watch as he
spins a large wheel on the vault door to open the latch. I hear creaking and
scraping of the metal works, and finally the door slowly swings toward us.

It opens to a chamber lined in glass shelves filled with
ancient magical artifacts of all kinds. My hopes come crashing down in an
instant. My chest tightens with a stabbing pain. I slam my fist on the top of
the safe doorway so hard the massive iron safe dents with the shape of my fist
and the sound reverberates through the house like a sledgehammer, breaking
windows as it goes.

When the fine tinkling of shattered glass quiets down, my
ears pick up the faint sound of voices and my hope flares again. “Someone is
here, below us somewhere!”

Xavier steps away from the safe with a huff of disgust and
says to Ernesto, “Look for other hidden doors. If he has one, he will likely
guard other secrets this way.”

Xavier and Ernesto quickly assemble their own handmade
torches and take off to other parts of the house. Gambino steps in the chamber
with the broken glass crunching under his shoes. He looks around grimly. Two
red spots rise to his cheeks as he says angrily, “I’ll be damned! I bet half of
the items stolen in the last five years are here.”

I couldn’t care less about stolen items, so while Gambino
calls in his back-up, I continue searching the interior walls of the room. Just
as I’m finishing, Xavier yells from across the house, “Jack! We think we found
something!”