Warlock of Omaha Cubed
Chapter 10: Visit From an Old Friend
With my conversation with the Rebbetzin over, I called Tamar.
A few rings and she picked up. "What do you need? I just put the baby down."
Obviously, she had not needed her phone buzzing, even if the ringer was off, while she was putting our daughter down for a nap. I was just on a total roll for spreading good into the world.
"If you can, I'd like you to come down to the forge. There are some important things we need to talk about?" I requested.
"I'll see if I can find someone to look after the baby. She just went down, I don't want to wake her." She answered.
The easy thing would be to just ask Novi to watch the baby. Tamar didn't trust Novi to watch the baby. Someone else would have to watch the baby.
"Okay," I answered, knowing there would be no way to talk her into letting Novi watch the baby just this one time. "Could you also rustle up some lunch and bring it too."
"Of course, my lord and master." She replied, her sarcastic tone letting me know she didn't like me treating her as a servant. "Anything else?"
"Oh, no. Just come when you can. When it's convenient." I replied, backing up from her annoyance.
"Fine, I'll be down when I can be." She replied and hung up.
It was already an old minor argument between us. I needed to take a more active role raising our daughter. So much shouldn't fall to her. I would point out Novi was available to help, which would make everything so much more convenient. She wouldn't ever trust Novi with the baby, no matter how badly that inconvenienced everyone. There was also some of my favorite, "You're too used to treating women as your slaves. I'm not your slave. Hey, I'm not treating you like a slave!" argument too.
I'd asked her to bring me lunch because between missing sleep last night and that dream I had this morning, I was bone tired from front to back. As I realized this, I turned the flame off in my forge. Another day's work shot.
Having just shut everything down and finally having had a chance to sit and close my eyes, Tamar showed up, just in time to see me apparently having nothing better to do than nap all day. At least she had a tray.
To Tamar's credit, she didn't say anything. She just placed the tray on a table and began to put out a meal while I rustled up chairs.
I looked at Tamar. She was clearly tired. Raising a baby, even with help, is hard work. Still she put the food out and made sure I had to eat and drink before she sat down herself to eat.
"Thank-you for lunch." I said in a calm, I hoped also apologetic and grateful tone.
"You're welcome." She replied in what I hoped was the same tone.
The lunch was fine. Mostly leftovers from the day before. The hamburgers, cole slaw and potato salad were all still good.
When we were done eating, she asked "Was there something else you wanted to tell me about the Warden's visit?"
Oh man. A day ago, the Warden visiting had seemed like a big deal. I had completely forgotten about it considering the much more massive shit storm that had fallen on us this morning. Then, as I thought about the Warden's visit, I realized he was the Warden I had seen in my dream. He had obviously come here sniffing around after the notebook. Of course, I thought I was achieving some diplomatic coup, Levine had just been humoring me.
"Sort of." I replied. Then I told her about finding the White Council's dirty underwear.
"Gutinhimmel!" She snapped as soon as she understood what I was telling her.
"Yeah, that's mostly what I was thinking as well." I replied then continued, "Then this morning, I took a nap. I had a really weird dream which I'm pretty sure wasn't a dream."
"What?" She answered confused, "What sort of dream?"
After all, I had just admitted to doing something which would result in everyone we knew and loved dying screaming, it had better be quite a dream.
"It was like I was living the last several weeks of the young woman's life who had stolen the data." I answered and explained further then concluded, "When I woke up, my head hurt even worse and I was even more tired."
"It sounds like you had some sort of insight into the person who created this lovely situation. Perhaps like what you experienced with the Kappa. Of course, even though you're magic was in close proximity for some time, it seems unlikely." Tamar explained.
"If it's unlikely, what could have caused it?" I asked.
"It's possible you have some special gift for this kind of vision. You do have unusual powers of perception, this could be an extension. The other possibility is that you have some affinity for this young woman?" Tamar theorized.
The way Tamar had said "affinity" implied she strongly suspected I had banged this girl at some point. While I knew Tamar had accepted my wanderings, I also knew she hardly liked them.
"I've never met this girl. I never really saw her face, but I was inside her head. I'm pretty sure she's a teenager. As a rule, I haven't deflowered many teenagers ever and none in some time." I answered.
"Then the gift is most likely. Do you have any idea on how you plan to proceed?" Tamar asked.
"I have to think that our long-term prospects are poor. However, I would like to get to play out the string for as long as possible. We're in a pretty strong defensive position. So, we do have that going for us. Of course, I did see the White Man in my dream. He's out there. He's hunting this data. Which means whatever truce we had is probably kaput." I replied.
"I'll look into options for moving the babies. Perhaps there is some way we can send them far enough away and so erase their identities that they could survive." Tamar pronounced.
"Sounds like a good plan." I replied.
"What of everyone else?" Tamar asked.
"They all know something is up. We gave warnings after the Warden left that something else might be going on. What do we tell them? 'Life as you know it is dead. You'll all be dying screaming soon.' Might as well let them live their last few days or hours with as much dignity as they can. If they know less, they'll likely be tortured less before they're killed. If we need someone for something specific we can bring them in." I announced grimly.
I was also feeling like this was my mess and I wanted to dump on the others as little as possible. We would most likely all be facing a terrible end very soon. If there was any happy ending, it wouldn't make their lives better to spend the next however long terrified and weeping. I'm sure there was also a little craven cowardice about not wanting to admit what I had gotten everyone into mixed in there as well. I know, I was hardly doing well. Next time you sign the death warrant of everyone you know and love, let me know how well you handle it.
Tamar excused herself, collected up all the food items onto the tray and took it back up to the house.
You'd think I wouldn't be able to sleep. You'd be wrong. I fell asleep again in my big office chair there, in the forge, and slept till dinner.
I felt a little better when I woke up the second time. It was dinner time. I was hungry. I checked everyone's status. Yumi and Kaylee were out doing some sort of study things. Brenda was eating in. I could go bother Brenda, but there was a non-zero chance she really hadn't made enough, if anything for dinner. I wouldn't be surprised to walk in there and find her eating tuna from a can. Caleb would breastfeed. I could go to Tamar, but Tamar didn't reply to a ping. I checked the security cams. Tamar was asleep next to Yael's crib. I did NOT want to wake that up.
I could summon Novi, have her make me dinner, keep me company, etc. Except I didn't really want to. I washed up, put on my outside clothes and went and got my truck.
At some point soon, the entire supernatural world was likely to fall on me like an avalanche. My guess was that I still had a day or two before that happened. If I was wrong, I'd die a day early. However, if I was going to die anyway, I thought I'd like my last meal to be at the Lodge.
I got in my truck and drove over to the Lodge. Parked. Walked in. One of the hostesses recognized me immediately and walked me to my table. I didn't come here as much as I had before I was married and had kids, but I'd still drop by 2-3 times a month. Normally, I cleared my table by five. Obviously today I hadn't.
I ordered a glass of The Asters. I normally didn't splurge like that, but hey, I was about to die.
I also ordered a substantial meal starting with those pot stickers I loved running through some buffalo prime rib and sides.
I was sitting at the table, sipping my scotch, in happy anticipation of the pot stickers and thinking about what I might order for dessert or if I'd get a rack of smoked buffalo ribs. Then he came in.
He walked through the crowd like it was perfectly normal. None of the mundane patrons even noticed him passing by, but I saw him.
He was just as all white as I remembered him. Not so much an albino guy wearing a white suit, as someone from whom all color had been drained. I suspected, if one threw a pot of brown paint on him, it would fade out to white. He was like some sort of color singularity.
He was still tall, painfully thin, one wouldn't be surprised to find out he had a heroin addiction or worse. The shape of his face was perfect, but angular and sharp. With his thinness, one could still easily imagine him as a euro trash model. His hair was long and curly. His suit, designer, but slightly rumpled. The same studied disdain for his appearance as if to say, "I'm so beautiful and rich, I don't have to be perfect."
It was the memory of countless nightmares and private moments of dread, perfectly played out. However, that wasn't all. When he moved, he almost seemed like an animated character walking through reality, like the worst nightmare from Who Framed Roger Rabbit. It was like a break in reality wherever he moved, like he hadn't been green screened right and there was bleed over of white background. Like he was more a white two-dimensional animated sketch.
He was moving toward me.
My Glock was in my hand, she was loaded with Stage 6. My axe was also ready. I wasn't wearing arm and leg armor. I didn't have Baby or Big Baby with me. I'd actually prepared a bit for a moment like this. My table was large, made of three-inch-thick steel reinforced oak. It was heavy, but I knew I could lift it onto its side and it would make excellent cover. I could fire from behind.
However, I remained seated. White Man was very clearly carrying a white hanky in one hand, in what I was fairly certain was a sign he wanted to parley, not fight. It's not like I put a lot of value on some abstract system, if I thought I could kill him right now, I would. It wasn't really that I thought he was sincere, if there was any legitimacy to the parley, it was that he was maneuvering his MiBs in the background for ambush. I'd like to say it was because I didn't want to start a gunfight in the Lodge. If I did, under the best of circumstances, I would imagine it would be bad. It would be a lot better if the fight didn't start until I was outside. Even better, till I was home. Mostly, the truth was I was frozen with fear.
It was also true that I took some pride in the Lodge. Yes, the Lodge was mostly Kelly and Miranda's baby. A large staff worked every day to bring her to life. Still the theme was mine. I'd poured a lot into bringing this place to fruition. It was a real and tangible success. It wasn't some job pushing numbers like I had out of University, a scam against casinos that I had used my gifts to purvey or a scam against a bunch of financial companies like I lived on now. The Lodge was tangible evidence that my creativity and ability had built something lasting. I could imagine a bloody shoot out could end that right now.
So, I held the Glock tight, my finger rubbing the trigger in the dangerous sort of way all safety classes said one shouldn't. I could feel the trigger safety drop in and out.
The White Man finished his approach through the bar. On one level, it seemed to take forever. On another, it seemed he moved so fast, I didn't have a chance to react. He sat down at my booth on the left side, scooted in perhaps six inches and looked at me, "You're drinking The Asters. Let me compliment you on your taste."
"What do you want here?" I asked, taking a risk that he wasn't some sort of Fae.
"Just to talk, nothing more. I know we haven't had the best history. The way you stole all my toys and all." He replied.
"You mean the way you tried to murder and enslave my friends and me?" I asked, challenging him.
"You say tomato, I say tahmato. It's not like being my minion is so bad. So many people these days cry about how they want a job. A chance to sell their servitude cheaply. I was offering you a good position. A high-ranking position in my organization. You turned me down ever so brusquely." He replied ever so calmly.
The way he talked was mostly American English, but you could just here the hint of a British Public School education hiding in there in the way he clipped a word here, chose a word there. It made him seem more annoying and entitled. I wanted to punch him in the face so bad! I was even more terrified. I realized he was waiting for a reply and I hadn't said anything for several seconds.
"Get out." I said.
"Don't worry, I'll leave soon enough. I just came to talk tonight. I'm pursuing a young woman. She has something I want. I'd be happy to pay a fair price." He explained.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. Get out." I replied.
"Don't be rude. Hospitality is important and you're the nominal host. Also, I have reason to believe you do know something. Even if I'm wrong, you always amaze me how dense you can be, this nowhere is your town. Should something present itself to you. Just make introductions. I promise to behave myself."
That set me back. I had just had a serious lesson in the rules of hospitality. I hardly wanted to lose a case before a Chinese god. Before I could say anything though, he continued.
"I should point something else out as well. You should know that every supernatural power in the world is going to come down on you like a load of bricks, if the load was all the bricks in the world. If you were to accept a position in my organization, you would enjoy a certain measure of security." He offered.
For a split second, that actually sounded good. Crazy, I know, but you try for a bit living with knowing that certain death is coming for you in the next few days. See how you handle it. You start grasping at crazy. Just ask all the people with terminal diseases, why they just spent their life savings on snake oil. But I wasn't that stupid. Being sealed in mud was hardly a life worth living.
"So, you could auction me off to the highest bidder? That's not much of an offer. I will do nothing for you. Get out." I replied.
"So be it. I will leave. Your hospitality leaves much to be desired. However, be aware, I intend to get what I came for. If you help, it will be remembered with gratitude. If you stay out of my way, I have no intention of harming you. If you get in my way, I'm fully capable of going through you to get what I want." With that, White Man got up and left the same way he came in.
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