Stacked Deck Ch. 01

Chernovich held his hand firmly in his jacket pocket, a slight quiver of displeasure played at the corners of his lips.

"I believe we can dispense with the pleasantries, Mr. Ballentine, I've neither the time nor the patience to deal with your...kind. And while I will be forever grateful to Jamus, I can't abide the presence of a...well...mundanein my home. So please just make your queries and be off on your merry,insignificantway."

Tom steeled his resolve and smiled sweetly.

"Sir, I assure you that the last thing I wish to do is desecrate your beautiful home. All I wish is to find out what happened to your wife. So if you would please, be kind enough point me in the direction of where she was last seen, I can get on with my work and be out of your gray,thinning, lifeless hair."

Chernovich's eyes went wide with furious loathing as he pointed sharply toward the glass doors that opened out onto the veranda.

Tom stepped out onto the veranda with his back to the contemptuous little man, a smile of triumph curled on his lips. He reached out his hand and brushed his fingertips along the doorframe, the railing and the small breakfast table. His eyes went vacant and he stopped dead in his tracks. Instinctively his psychic shielding tightened around him defensively. The strongest,blackestvoid he'd ever encountered pounced upon him like a starving animal. The only thing he could glean from the residual sensation was predatory glee and murderous satisfaction.

"Lord and Lady...what the hellisthis?" he gasped.

Regaining his senses he yanked his hand back quickly. His tread so quick that he didn't even hear the front door slam behind him as he bolted for the sculptured driveway.

"What thefuckdid you just send me into?" Tom's voice cracked as he screamed.

Jamus wheeled in his chair and faced the young man who'd just burst into his office. His eyes tightened threateningly. When he saw the terror deep in Tom's eyes, his face slackened into something comforting.

"Christ, Tom, you look like shit," Jamus said soothingly. "Ol' Dimitri didn't try to eat you did he?"

"Stop joking around! That was some seriously evil majick I just stepped into." Tom forced in a deep breath and tried to regain his center. His legs starting to buckle beneath him, he dropped onto the threadbare couch under the window. Jamus reached into the top drawer of his desk and withdrew a silver flask. He tossed it to the troubled young man. Tom caught it, but just stared into the golden falcon embossed on it.

"Take a swig or five kid...it'll do you good," Jamus cooed.

Tom twisted and flipped the cap, drew it to his lips and stopped. He looked dead into Jamus' eyes nervously.

"Don't worry, it's just scotch," Jamus chuckled as his brow rose. "Well, 20 year old scotch at any rate."

Tom drank in a long pull from the flask, nearly choking. The liquid was like fire in his throat.

Jamus leaned back in his chair and scratched absently at the stubble on his chin. After a long silence Tom lowered the flask into his lap.

"Mr. Chernovich wasn't a problem...nasty and mean...but nothing I haven't dealt with before." Tom spoke, unsure that his voice wouldn't quiver. "Whatisa problem is thatthingthat's taking your friends."

He took another sip and leaned forward, placing his forearms on his knees. The flask hung loosely in his fingertips. "Jamus, this is bad, really bad...I mean...demonbad. Theblackestof hells. I have never come across anything like this. It was like a pit of despair. Hunger.Need. And definitely not from this realm."

"Sounds like you found our Nightflyer," came a soft voice from the corner.

Tom nearly dropped the flask as he lurched to his feet. His eyes were instantly drawn to a petite woman perched casually atop of one of the filing cabinets. He pulled the psi-bolt back into himself, having nearly sent it across the room on instinct.

"Tom, this is Sherry." Jamus chuckled, " but we just call her Mouse."

Tom settled back into a less defensive posture and took an appraising look at the woman. She would stand at most, maybe 5'2" and was perhaps a little too gaunt, like she hadn't had a good meal in days. Her hair was neon pink and cut in a skater's "McSqueeb"- with the right side chin length and the left side close-cropped. Her ears had multiple piercings, as did her bottom lip. Her skinny arms were covered in tribal tattoos. The brightest of greens eyes were glimmering in the dim lamplight. She was wearing torn olive drab cargo shorts and an obscenely red half tank top. She swung her bare feet back and forth lazily. What Tom couldn't comprehend however, washowhe hadn't noticed her until she spoke.

"She works with us in an underground movement that protects runaways," Jamus said at last. "A guardian, if you will."

Mouse lifted her right arm in a lighthearted salute. Tom glimpsed the tattoo on the inner forearm. It was the symbol of a Guardian, someone who is sworn to protect the innocent.

Tom jerked his head from the reverie as the word finally sunk in. "Nightflyer?"

Mouse dropped down off of the cabinet with a light kick and landed gracefully on the floor. She hitched herself up atop Jamus' desk and tucked her knees beneath her chin, head cocked slightly askew.

"A Nightflyer...is a demon. Kinda like a vampire..." she glanced at Jamus whimsically. "Only it doesn't feed on blood. It eats souls." Her voice was chillingly joyful. "Major bad conjure. I feel sorry for the silly shit that brought it across."

Tom unconsciously drew his arms around himself.A soul eater...good Gods. Now I remember the name. My mother once told me a story about how she had faced one when she was younger. How it nearly killed her, but I thought it was just that...a story.

"Well, I'm outtie...is that all the update you needed Jamie?" She sprawled playfully across his desk. He nodded silently as she rolled over and off to land on her feet.

She placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'll get back to you when I find the prick." She grabbed her board and scampered off out the door, turned back and looked directly into Tom's eyes. "Nice to meet you Tom. Catch you later, cutie." She cocked a finger at him and fired with a click of her tongue.

Tom blushed deeply as she turned on her heel and left.

Jamus pinched the bridge of his nose, holding the imminent headache at bay, as Tom took another sip from the flask and gathered his next thought very carefully.

"What did she mean by 'Our Nightflyer?" Tom said finally as he offered the flask back to its owner.

Jamus reached across the desk and took it, replaced the cap and tucked it back in its drawer.

"About six months ago, some of her runaways started to disappear from the safe houses. One of the bunkmates was coming back from the bathroom and as he rounded the corner, saw this black "smoke" as it surrounded one of the victims. It floated out the window, with no trace of it or the victim left behind."

He sighed deeply. "Mouse has been chasing the rumors ever since." He rose from his desk and stretched noisily. "C'mon laddie buck. Let's go get a real drink."

The summer rains pelted the windowpane in a vicious torrent. The wind howled ferociously at its restraints just outside Tom's bedroom. A horrified scream snapped Tom awake and he looked wildly around the room, his chest heaving with desperate breath. Only to realize that it washisscream. He sat up in bed for what felt like an eternity, cold sweat trailing down his back. Finally gathering his senses back into him, as the tendrils of the nightmare retracted back into the dark corners of the room, he swung his legs off the bed and ran his fingers through his damp hair. He walked out to the kitchen on wobbly legs, narrowly missing Yumi's tail as he made his way in the dark. She gazed at him reproachfully.

He fumbled for a glass out of the dish drainer, filled it straight from the tap and swallowed more than half in one gulp. As he took another deep breath, the feeling of cold blackness finally started to drain away from him. Swallowing once more, he set the glass on the counter and made his way into the living room, flicking on the lamp as he passed. Tom sat down on the couch with his feet tucked protectively beneath him.

It was just a dream. That's all. Brought on by that story in Jamie's office and that story my mother told me. That's all it was.But his rationale did little to shake off the terror that still lingered.

Yumi announced her presence softly and curled up on the back of the couch behind his head, tail flicking him in the ear. Tom sat and stared blankly at the coffee table.

I've got to get a grip on my fear. I've got to be stronger. It's what I am. What I have to do.Unconsciously, he rubbed at the "ribbon entwined sword" tattoo on the inside of his right wrist. His thoughts trailed to the young woman he'd met this evening. Her face was drifting to the surface of his memory, pushing the last of the dark remnants back into place.Another Guardian in this town. I'm not alone after all.

"Jamie! Open the goddamned door!" came the fervent yells and pounding from the hall of the apartment above his office. "I found him, I tracked the bastard."

He turned down the volume on the television and strode quickly to the door. He unlocked the padlock and opened the door to find a soaking wet Mouse glaring back at him.

"You're wet. Is it raining?" he chuckled.

"No genius, liquid sunshine...now let me in!" She punched him hard on the shoulder and wheedled around his lanky frame. She shook off the black hood from her head and glowered at him. "Freakin' storm of the century out there."

Jamus went to the gas stove in the kitchen and lit the fire under a teapot. "So what did you find? Hey, hey! Not on... the ...couch." He shook his head mirthfully and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed gazing at her with a feigned scowl as she plopped down with disregard.

She shrugged off her hoodie and took a deep breath. "Okay, so I was talking to Chuck and he starts tellin' me about this creeper that's been stalking about out on the docks. Which last time I checked, was a certainsomeone else'sturf. Anyway, so I go down there around 11 and lo and behold there's this gruff out there actin' like he owns the place. I tuck back and hide and watch as he goes and feeds on this drunken "Barbie". Stupid bitch. Fucker's a Breed. Sure as shit."

"Mouse?" Jamus held back a chuckle.

"Hmmm?" Her green eyes snapped up to look at him.

"Take a breath?" Then he turned off the stove and poured two cups of tea. "Then what?" he asked as he stepped resolutely over to the shivering girl and handed her a cup.

"Well," she gulped some of the steaming brew, burning her tongue. "Then I track him down to Barrett's and he starts acting like he's king shit there too, tossin' about names and such. Claims to be a biggie in the upper colonies." She set the cup down as realization dawned on her. "Dude...we gotta go. He's still there."

"I agree." He nodded and set his untouched cup on the table. "But not you. You stay here and keep from catching a cold. There's supplies in the fridge."

Jamus reached into the wardrobe by the door and snatched his leather biker boots from under a pile of dirty clothes. He sat on the floor and pulled the boots up over his jeans. Reaching for a hidden drawer inside the wardrobe, he withdrew an eight-inch sheath containing his favorite knife and tucked it into his left boot. As he was heading out the door he pulled on a faded black t-shirt. Mouse gave him a wolf whistle.

Jamus slipped stealthily down the bridal path of Grady Thompson Park, ducking behind the trees and checking behind him ever few yards. Visibility was steadily improving as the storm started to pass overhead. He could now see the lights from Barrett's just up ahead. He kept his eyes locked on the door as he crept forward and peeked around an Australian pine.

A dark shadowy figure dropped out of the tree above him and pinned him to the ground, teeth gnashing violently mere inches above his face. Jamus drove his knee full force into what he assumed was the creatures groin with a sickening crunch. He leaped nimbly to his feet and took a defensive stance.

A rasping groan escaped the lips of the attacker as it assumed the fetal position and tried very hard not to wretch.

"You still... fight... like a fucking... girl, Jamie." Whimpered the foe.

Jamus nudged the shadowy figure over onto its back with his thick boots and shook his head at the improbability of who lay before him. "And you're still a pussy who can't take a hit." He leaned over and offered his hand to the crumpled man.

"Wait...lemme catch mah breath first." He rolled to support himself on his knees, head to the cold wet grass.

"C'mon Devon, we don't have time for this. I've got work to do." Jamus stood back up and rest his hands impatiently on his hips.

Devon waved him on. "S'okay...not your fault I've got...hadbigger balls than you."

Jamus reached down and yanked him up by his elbow, hauling him behind one of the Hibiscus hedges. He crouched down and looked Devon squarely in the eye and whispered, "Seriously, you alright?" He looked carefully over his shoulder at the door to Barrett's and then back to the face of his old comrade.

"Yeah man, Nik's nailed 'em harder than you," he croaked.

"I don't mean that dickhead...I mean...you know..." Jamus nodded to the full moon in its first phase. "That time of the month."

" Oh yeah, that...got it covered. Granger developed a serum that helps keep it under control." Devon twisted around and looked for his hat, finding it hung up on a lawn sprinkler across the sidewalk. "So what's the jobtonight?"

"Runaway snatcher. He's holed up in Barrett's over there." Jamus nodded to the rundown little tavern near the 7th street canal. "You still hang out with Granger?" He rolled his eyes pathetically.

Devon developed a huge grin on his face. "Still doing charity work, eh? Can I play too?"

A wide grin spread across Jamus' face "Well, since you're here, you might as well make yourself useful." Jamus turned and started off once more down the bridal path a steady clip, while Devon scooped up his hat and secured it arrogantly atop his head. Upon reaching the run down little tavern, Jamus skidded to a halt with his back to the wall. He nodded toward the door and then to Devon as he slid in at the other side, crouching down low. The Lycan nodded in agreement.

"Reminds me of that time in El Paso," Devon whispered just under the sound of the jukebox beating against yellowed, greasy windows. Jamus grinned and shook his head as he straightened his shirt and reached for the knob. He threw open the door and strolled in nonchalantly. His eyes narrowed as he tossed out a warning of impending havoc to the proprietor, seemingly challenging him to object. Barrett lowered his eyes respectfully and went back to wiping down the bar.

Passing by the cluster of tables in the center of the tavern, Jamus meandered past a rough huddle ofBreedplaying poker. As he took a seat in a booth a few feet away, he found that he did not need to eavesdrop very hard. Mouse had been right. The one with the shaved head was very boisterous about his level of importance. Barrett set a small ceramic bottle and a shot glass atop the counter. He nodded in Jamus' direction when Nancy, the waitress, gazed at him inquiringly. She placed the bottle on her tray amongst the assorted other drinks and wove her way skillfully through the tables, placing drinks before the patrons.

Jamus nodded to Nancy and slapped down a crisp twenty-dollar bill as she set the bottle and glass on his table before him.

"Keep the change, hon," he murmured, never taking his eyes off of his target. She smiled politely to him, pocketed the extra twenty and made her way back across the tavern. Jamus pulled the cork out of the bottle, filled the shot glass and spun it idly between his hands.

"Yeah, like a was saying, I'd have kept the girl and taken her to the boss but he doesn't wantmortsanymore. So I just drained her and dumped the dregs off the dock. They'll probably attribute it to another drunken accident at the festival." Said the brute in an abrasive voice. He glanced across the table and saw Jamus draped in his booth and looked at him perplexedly.

Jamus raised his shot in tribute, slammed it back in one swallow and winked at the man. Tipping the bottle again, he refilled his glass.

"Hey Lenny," the man leaned in a whispered. "Who's that guy over there in the booth?"

"Huh? What guy, Gregg?" Lenny whispered back, casting wild looks over his shoulder.

"That one. The one with the white streak in his hair...where the fuck did he go?" Gregg stuttered.

At that moment, Jamus was walking behind the behemoth. Lenny shot to his feet and backed away at the sight of him. In one fluid movement, Gregg was on his back as Jamus kicked the chair legs out from under him and placed his knee into the thug's chest. A stylishly ornate knife was pressed to his throat.

Jamus bared his fangs viciously and yelled, "Just one chance to get this right! Who are you working with and where are the hostages?"

"I ain't tellin' you shit!" Gregg grunted. Jamus tossed the knife lightly in the air and caught it by the tip of the blade, flicking Gregg in the mouth with the hilt.

"Who and Where?" Jamus asked with an eerie calm.

"Go fuck yourself," the Goliath spit back.

"I'm not fucking around, Gregg. This is your last chance." Jamus shook his head. "Tell me or I spill your blood. And in here..." Jamus arced his free hand in a flourish. "This is no place to let that scent out."

Spitting broken fangs and blood, Gregg blurted out, "Fine! Fuck it! Why should I care? I'm working with a Lycan named De..." The door crashed open and Devon fought his way through. Enclosed in his burly arms was Mouse, flailing wildly, kicking and screaming. He had a sawed off shotgun held under her chin.

"Aw goddamn it Gregg, I thought you were better than that." Devon shook his head disappointedly. He drew the shotgun away from the squirming girl and lined the sight to Jamus heart. "It wasn't supposed to go down like this Jamie...never like this."

Jamus glared at him viciously. "You slimy son of a bitch. Let her go!"

"C'mon Jamie, don't be like that...it's just business." The Lycan half shrugged. Mouse took the distraction as her cue to do something. She bit into his restraining arm and kicked back, driving her heel into his already tender testicles.

Jamus flipped the knife once more and with inhuman speed slit Gregg's jugular, leaped to his feet and charged the were-wolf. Barely ducking out of the way as an errant shot went off hitting the huddling Nancy full in the chest. All of the younger generation of vampires lost control at the coppery scent, fangs flashing in wicked abandon. They began tearing into the wounded victims. Nancy was nearly dead instantly. Gregg's screams were squelched by the sound of ripping and tearing flesh.

In desperation, Devon threw the girl directly in Jamus' path, knocking them both to the ground. He limped out the door toward the safety of night. Jamus laid her gently to the floor and launched himself toward the door, chasing after the Lycan, cursing the betrayer with each footfall. He stopped just outside of the light and listened carefully for signs in each direction.Nothing. And why should there be? I taught him all he knows.He kicked at a loose stone in the path and swore a curse that only Satan himself, had ever heard.

He wrung his hands through his soaked and tangled tresses and kicked at a chair as he re-entered the tavern. Letting out one final roar of frustration, he straightened and assessed the damage. Barrett and his goon squad of bouncers were already peeling off well-fedBreedand tossing them aside like rag-dolls. The still feeding vampires were hissing with the greatest contempt. Barrett stopped and stared down into the now lifeless eyes of Nancy. And wept unashamedly.