Storm Born Chapter One

Id seen weirder things than a haunted garb, moreover none many.The Nike Pegasus sat on the offices desk, inoffensive, colored in shades of gray, w shite, and orange. Some of the laces were beleaguered, and a bit of dirt clung nearly the soles. It was the odd raiment.As for me, wellunderneath my knee-length coat, I had a Glock .22 lactating with bul permits carrying a higher-than-legal steel content. A cartridge of silverish stars rested in the coats pocket. Two athames lay sheathed on my other hip, wholeness silver-bladed and single iron. Stuck into my belt near them was a wand, hand-carved oak and loaded with enough appeal gems to in completely probability blow up the desk in the corner if I wanted to.To say I felt overdressed was or sothing of an understatement.So, I said, keeping my comp whizznt part as neutral as possible, what makes you think your brake shoe isuh, possessed?Brian Montgomery, posthumous thirties with a receding hairline in serious denial, eyed the shoe nervously and moistened his lips. It always trips me up when Im turn out running. Every prison term. And its always contemptible around. I mean, I never very see it, but a manage, Ill enlist them off near the door, past I come back and break by this one under the bed or mostthing. And roundtimessometimes I touch it, and it feels coldreally cold ilk He groped for similes and lastly picked the tritest one. Like ice.I nodded and glanced back at the shoe, not saying anything.Look, missOdileor whatever. Im not crazy. That shoe is haunted. Its evil. Youve gotta do something, okay? Ive got a endurance contest coming up, and until this started happening, these were my lucky shoes. And theyre not cheap, you know. Theyre an investment.It sounded crazy to me which was saying something but thither was no harm in checking, seeing as I was already out here. I reached into my coat pocket, the one without ammunition, and pulled out my pendulum. It was a unbiased one, a thin s ilver chain with a small lechatelierite crystal adhereing from it.I laced the chains end through with(predicate) my fingers and held my fig hand over the shoe, clearing my mind and letting the crystal hang freely. A moment late(a)r, it began to slowly rotate of its profess accord.Well, Ill be damned, I muttered, stuffing the pendulum back in my pocket. thither was something there. I dour to Montgomery, attempting some sort of badass face, because that was what customers always expected. It tycoon be best if you stepped out of the room, sir. For your own safety.That was only half-true. Mostly I save found lingering clients annoying. They asked nitwitted questions and could do stupider things, which actually put me at more risk than them.He had no qualms about getting out of there. As soon as the door closed, I found a jar of salt in my satchel and poured a large ring on the offices floor. I tossed the shoe into the plaza of it and invoked the four cardinal directions wi th the silver athame. Ostensibly the circle didnt change, but I felt a slight flaring of power, indicating it had sealed us in. hard not to yawn, I pulled out my wand and unplowed rendering the silver athame. It had interpreted four hours to drive to Las Cruces, and doing that on so petty(a) log Zs had do the distance bet twice as great. Sending some of my will into the wand, I tapped it against the shoe and stave in a sing-song voice. let out, come out, whoever you be.There was a moments silence, then a high-pitched young-begetting(prenominal) voice snapped, Go by, bitch.Great. A shoe with attitude. Why? You got something better to do? smash things to do than waste my time with a mortal.I smiled. Better things to do in a shoe? Come on. I mean, Ive comprehend of slumming it, but dont you think youre winning of pushing the envelope here? This shoe isnt even new. You could stir done so much better.The voice kept its annoyed tone, not threatening but simply irritated at th e interruption. Im slumming it? Do you think I dont know who you are, Eugenie Markham? Dark-Swan-Called-Odile. A blood traitor. A mongrel. An assassin. A murderer. He practically spit out the last word. You are alone among your kind and mine. A bloodthirsty shadow. You do anything for anyone who underside remuneration you enough for it. That makes you more than a mercenary. That makes you a whore.I affected a bored stance. Id been called most of those names before. Well, except for my own name. That was new and a bantam disconcerting. Not that Id let him know that.Are you done whining? Because I dont get hold of time to listen plot of ground you stall.Arent you universe paying by the hour? he asked nastily.I charge a flat fee.Oh.I rolled my eyes and touched the wand to the shoe again. This time, I physique the full force of my will into it, drawing upon my own ashess physical huskiness as well as some of the power of the world around me. No more games. If you leave on your own, I wont have to weakened you. Come out.He couldnt stand against that command and the power within it. The shoe trembled, and smoke poured out of it. Oh, Jesus. I hoped the shoe didnt get incinerated during this. Montgomery wouldnt be able to handle that.The smoke bellowed out, coalescing into a large, dark form about two feet taller than me. With all his wisecracks, Id sort of expected a saucy transformation of one of Santas elves. Instead, the being before me had the fastness personate of a well-muscled man, while his lower portion resembled a small cyclone. The smoke solidified into leathery gray-black skin, and I had only a moment to act as I assessed this new development. I barterped the wand for the gun, ejecting the clip as I pulled it out. By then, he was lunging for me, and I had to roll out of his way, confined by the circles boundaries.A keres. A male keres most unusual. Id anticipated something fey, which required silver bullets or a spectre, which required no bullets. Keres were ancient death liquor originally confined to canopic jars. When the jars wore down over time, keres tended to seek out new homes. There werent too many of them go forth in this world, and soon thered be one less.He bore down on me, and I took a delicate chunk out of him with the silver blade. I utilise my right hand, the one I wore an onyx and obsidian bracelet on. Those stones alone would take a toll on a death aim like him without the blades help. Sure enough, he hissed in pain and hesitated a moment. I used that delay, scrambling to load the silver cartridge.I didnt quite make it, because soon he was on me again. He hit me with one of those massive arms, slamming me against the walls of the circle. They king be transparent, but they felt as solid as bricks. One of the downsides of trapping a spirit in a circle was that I got trapped too. My head and left elevate took the brunt of that impact, and pain shot through me in small starbursts. He seemed rea sonably pleased with himself over this, as overconfident villains so often are.Youre as strong as they say, but you were a fool to try to cast me out. You should have left me in peace. His voice was deeper now, approximately gravelly.I move my head, both to disagree and to get rid of the dizziness. It isnt your shoe.I still couldnt swap that goddamned cartridge. Not with him ready to attack again, not with both reach full. Yet I couldnt risk dropping either weapon.He reached for me, and I cut him again. The wounds were small, but the athame was like poison. It would wear him down over time if I could stand by a bonk that long. I moved to strike at him once more, but he anticipated me and seized hold of my wrist. He squeezed it, fold it in an unnatural position and forcing me to drop the athame and cry out. I hoped he hadnt broken any bones. Smug, he grabbed me by the shoulders with both turn over and lift me up so that I hung face to face with him. His eyes were xanthous wi th slits for pupils, much like some sort of snakes. His breath was hot and reeked of decomposition as he spoke.You are small, Eugenie Markham, but you are lovely and your habitus is warm. Perhaps I should beat the rush and take you myself. Id enjoy audition you scream beneath me.Ew. Had that thing just propositioned me? And there was my name again. How in the world did he know that? None of them knew that. I was only Odile to them, named aft(prenominal) the dark swan in Swan Lake, a name coined by my stepfather because of the form my spirit preferred to travel in while see the Otherworld. The name though not particularly terrifying had stuck, though I doubted any of the creatures I fought knew the reference. They didnt really get out to the ballet much.The keres had my upper arms pinned I would have bruises tomorrow but my hands and forearms were free. He was so sure of himself, so overly arrogant and confident, that he paid no attention to my struggling hands. He probably just perceived the motion as a futile effort to free myself. In seconds, I had the clip out and in the gun. I managed one unskilful shot and he dropped me not gently. I stumbled to regain my balance again. Bullets probably couldnt kill him, but a silver one in the centerfield of his chest would certainly appal.He stumbled back, half-surprised, and I wondered if hed ever even encountered a gun before. It laid-off again, then again and again and again. The reports were loud hopefully Montgomery wouldnt do something foolish and come running in. The keres roared in loss and pain, each shot making him stagger backward until he was all the way against the circles boundary. I advanced on him, retrieved athame flashing in my hand. In a few quick motions, I carved the death sign on the part of his chest that wasnt bloodied from bullets. An electric charge immediately ran through the air of the circle. Hairs stood up on the back of my neck, and I could smell ozone, like just before a storm.He screamed and leapt forward, renewed by anger or adrenaline or whatever else these creatures ran on. But it was too late for him. He was marked and wounded. I was ready. In another mood, I might have simply banished him to the Otherworld I tried not to kill if I didnt have to. But that sexual suggestion had just been out of line. I was pissed off now. Hed go to the world of death, straight to Persephones gate.I fired again to slow him, my aim a bit off with the left hand but still good enough to hit him. I had already traded the athame for the wand. This time, I didnt draw on the power from this plane. With well-practiced ease, I let part of my consciousness slip this world. In moments, I reached the crossroads to the Otherworld. That was an abstemious transition I did it all the time. The next crossover was a little harder, especially with me being weakened from the fight, but still nothing I couldnt do automatically. I kept my own spirit well out of doors of the land of death, but I touched it and send that connection through the wand. It sucked him in, and his face twisted with fear.This is not your world, I said in a low voice, feeling the power burn through me and around me. This is not your world, and I cast you out. I send you to the black gate, to the lands of death where you can either be reborn or fade to oblivion or burn in the flames of hell. I really dont take for a shit. Go.He screamed, but the magic caught him. There was a trembling in the air, a buildup of pressure, and then it ended abruptly, like a deflated balloon. The keres was gone(p) too, departure only a shower of gray sparkles that soon faded to nothing.Silence. I sank to my knees, exhaling deeply. My eyes closed a moment, as my body relaxed and my consciousness returned to this world. I was exhausted but exultant too. Killing him had felt good. Heady, even. Hed gotten what he deserved, and I had been the one to shell out it out.Minutes later, some of my strength returned . I stood and receptive the circle, suddenly feeling stifled by it. I put my tools and weapons away and went to find Montgomery.Your shoes been exorcised, I told him flatly. I killed the ghost. No point in explaining the release between a keres and a true ghost he wouldnt understand. He entered the room with slow steps, picking up the shoe gingerly. I comprehend gunshots. How do you use bullets on a ghost?I shrugged. It scandalize from where the keres had slammed my shoulder to the wall. It was a strong ghost.He cradled the shoe like one might a child and then glanced down with disapproval. Theres blood on the carpet.Read the paperwork you write. I assume no responsibility for damage incurred to personalized property.With a few grumbles, he paid up in coin and I left. Really, though, he was so stoked about the shoe, I probably could have decimated the office.In my car, I dug out a Milky look from the stash in my glove box. Battles like that required immediate simoleons an d calories. As I practically shoved the candy bar into my mouth, I turned on my cell phone. I had a missed call from Lara. one time Id consumed a second bar and was on I-10 back to Tucson, I dialed her.Yo, I said.Hey. Did you finish the Montgomery job?Yup.Was the shoe really possessed?Yup.Huh. Who knew? Thats kind of funny too. Like, you know, lost souls and soles in shoesBad, very bad, I chastised. Lara might be a good secretary, but there was only so much I could be expected to put up with. So whats up? Or were you just checking in?No. I just got a weird job offer. Some guy well, honestly, I fancy he sounded kind of schizo. But he claims his sister was abducted by fairies, er, gentry. He wants you to go get her.I fell silent at that, consummate(a) at the highway and clear blue sky ahead without consciously seeing either one. Some objective part of me attempted to action what she had just said. I didnt get that kind of request very often. Okay, never. A retrieval like that requ ired me to cross over physically into the Otherworld. I dont really do that.Thats what I told him. But there was uncertainty in Laras voice.Okay. What arent you telling me?Nothing, I guess. I dont know. Its justhe said shes been gone almost a year and a half now. She was fourteen when she disappeared.My pot sank a little at that. God. What an awful fate for person so young. It made the keres lewd comments to me downright trivial.He sounded pretty frantic.Does he have proof she was actually taken?I dont know. He wouldnt get into it. He was kind of paranoid. Seemed to think his phone was being tapped.I laughed at that. By who? The gentry? Gentry was what I called the beings that most of Western culture referred to as fairies or sidhe. They looked just like humans but embraced magic instead of technology. They found fairy a derogatory term, so I regard that sort of by using the term old English peasants used to use. Gentry. Good folk. Good neighbors. A questionable designation, a t best. The gentry actually preferred the term shining ones, but that was just silly. I wouldnt give them that much credit.I dont know, Lara told me. Like I said, he seemed a little schizo.Silence fell as I held on to the phone and passed a car driving 45 in the left lane.Eugenie You arent really thought of doing this.Fourteen, huh?You always said that was dangerous.Adolescence?Stop it. You know what I mean. Crossing over.Yeah. I know what you mean.It was dangerous super dangerous. Traveling in spirit form could still get you killed, but your odds of fleeing back to your earthbound body were better. Take your own body over, and all the rules changed.This is crazy.Set it up, I told her. It cant hurt to talk to him.I could practically see her biting her lip to hold back protests. But at the end of the day, I was the one who signed her paychecks, and she respected that. After a few moments, she filled the silence with selective information about a few other jobs and then drifted on to more casual topics some sale at the mall, a mysterious starting signal on her carSomething about Laras cheery gossip always made me smile, but it also disturbed me that most of my social contact came via someone I never actually saw. Lately the majority of my face-to-face interactions came from spirits and gentry.It was after dinnertime when I arrived home, and my categorymate, Tim, appeared to be out for the night, probably at a poetry reading. Despite a Polish background, genes had inexplicably given him a strong Native American appearance. In point, he looked more Indian than some of the locals. Deciding this was his claim to fame, Tim had grown his hair out and taken on the name Timothy Red Horse. He made his aliment by reading faux-Native poetry at local dives and wooing wide-eyed tourist women by using expressions like my people and the Great flavor a lot. It was despicable, to say the least, but it got him laid pretty often. What it did not do was bring in a lot of money, so Id let him live with me in exchange for housework and cleaning. It was a pretty good deal as far as I was concerned. After battling the undead all day, rub the bathtub just seemed like asking too much.Scrubbing my athames, unfortunately, was a task I had to do myself. Keres blood could stain.I ate dinner afterward, then stripped and sat in my sauna for a long time. I liked a lot of things about my little house out in the foothills, but the sauna was one of my favorites. It might seem kind of pointless in the desert, but Arizona had mostly alter heat, and I liked the feel of humidity and moisture on my skin. I leaned back against the wooden wall, enjoying the sensation of sweating out the stress. My body ached some parts more fiercely than others and the heat let some of the muscles loosen up.The solitude also soothed me. Pathetic as it was, I probably had no one to blame for my lack of sociability except myself. I worn out(p) a lot of time alone and didnt mind. When m y stepfather, Roland, had first trained me as a shaman, hed told me that in a lot of cultures, shamans essentially lived outside of conventionalism society. The idea had seemed crazy to me at the time, being in junior high, but it made more sense now that I was older.I wasnt a complete socialphobe, but I found I often had a hard time interacting with other people. Talking in front of groups was murder. raze talking one-on-one had its issues. I had no pets or children to ramble on about, and I couldnt exactly talk about things like the incident in Las Cruces. Yeah, I had kind of a long day. Drove four hours, fought an ancient minion of evil. After a few bullets and knife wounds, I obliterated him and sent him on to the world of death. God, I swear Im not getting paid enough for this crap, you know? Cue polite laughter.When I left the sauna, I had another message from Lara telling me the appointment with the distraught brother had been put for tomorrow. I made a note in my day plan ner, took a shower, and retired to my room, where I threw on black silk pajamas. For whatever reason, nice pajamas were the one unwiseness I allowed myself in an otherwise dirty and bloody lifestyle. Tonights selection had a cami top that showed serious cleavage, had anyone been there to see it. I always wore a ratty robe around Tim.Sitting at my desk, I emptied out a new jigsaw puzzle Id just bought. It depicted a kitten on its back clutching a ball of yarn. My love of puzzles be up there with the pajama thing for weirdness, but they eased my mind. Maybe it was the fact that they were so tangible. You could hold the pieces in your hand and make them fit together, as opposed to the insubstantial stuff I usually worked with.While my hands moved the pieces around, I kept trying to shake the knowledge that the keres had know my name. What did that mean? Id made a lot of enemies in the Otherworld. I didnt like the thought of them being able to track me personally. I preferred to stay Odile. Anonymous. Safe. Probably not much point worrying about it, I supposed. The keres was dead. He wouldnt be telling any tales.Two hours later, I washed-up the puzzle and admired it. The kitten had brown tabby fur, its eyes an almost azure blue. The yarn was red. I took out my digital camera, snapped a picture, and then broke up the puzzle, dumping it back into its box. Easy come, easy go.Yawning, I slipped into bed. Tim had done laundry today the sheets felt crisp and clean. Nothing like that fresh-sheets smell. Despite my exhaustion, however, I couldnt fall asleep. It was one of lifes ironies. While awake, I could curve into a trance with the snap of a finger. My spirit could leave my body and travel to other worlds. Yet, for whatever reason, sleep was more elusive. Doctors had recommended a follow of sedatives, but I hated to use them. Drugs and alcohol bound the spirit to this world, and while I did indulge occasionally, I generally liked being ready to slip over at a mom ents notice.Tonight I suspected my insomnia had something to do with a teenage girl. But no. I couldnt think about that, not yet. Not until I spoke with the brother.Sighing, needing something else to ponder, I rolled over and stared at my ceiling, at the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars. I started counting them, as I had so many other officious nights. There were exactly thirty-three of them, just like last time. Still, it never hurt to check.