Chapter 06

Once I was inside, Lacuna arrived in a flash, advising me that the Streetwolves had seen to my request. The stolen vehicle report would be in place by the morning, which meant I would have a built-in excuse as to why my vehicle was crashed into the side of a building without me being present.

I thanked her, and made my way down to the lab, where I updated Bob on what I'd learned from the Knights, as well as what I'd found in the morgue. The Spirit of Intellect had whistled at the story, and asked the most obvious question when I was through.

"So you didn't say wocka wocka even once?" he asked in disbelief.

"It's not as easy to work into conversation as you'd think," I replied with a roll of my eyes. "So what are your thoughts on this prophecy thing?"

"Doesn't sound good," the Spirit of Intellect replied. "Prophecies tend to be pretty accurate. If the interpretation is correct, then it'd take something BIG to prevent it."

"Interpretation?" I asked.

"Sure," Bob said. "Understanding the actual meaning of a prophecy is the hard part. I mean, saying you'd end up dead if you got involved doesn't mean you wouldn't end up dead if you didn't, right? And that's if they got the exact wording correct. For all you know, the prophecy said if you looked for the Shroud but failed to obtain it, you'd die. Maybe if you get your hands on it, naked co-eds will fall out of the sky instead."

"Focus, Bob," I reminded him. His random tangents about sex and the fairer of the species had dwindled as of late, but they still flared up now and again. "So what you're saying is I need to know exactly what I'm dealing with."

"Pretty much," Bob replied, his amber lights muted.

"So how do I hear the prophecy for myself?" I asked. "I don't have to go on some hero's quest or anything, do I?"

"Naw, nothing so cliche," he replied. His eyes brightened, something I'd learned to recognize as him showing surprise. "Hey, I just had a brilliant idea!"

"Care to share?"

"Well, you need to find out about the prophecy," Bob restated, "and you need to find the Shroud. Why not consult an Oracle and knock out both at once?"

I considered it. "Sure. Who were you thinking?"

"Ulsharavas," he replied readily enough. "She's a Loa that's got reasonable rates. Shouldn't take much to ring her up."

I nodded. "Alright, let's do that. Maybe we'll get lucky and grab the Shroud before the Denarians take another shot at me."

Bob's lights brightened again as he whispered softly, "Naked co-eds..."

I just shook my head, and went about gathering the things I'd need.


It didn't take long to prepare the spell to summon up the Oracle. We already had everything required on-hand, and as Bob had said, it wasn't much.

There was a slight delay due to the cops showing up at my door. Thankfully it was just a pair of regular detectives, rather than someone from S.I.; if Murphy's people had shown up, they might have been a little more doubtful of my story.

Convincing them I'd been home all evening would be impossible, but I didn't sweat it too much. With the enchantments on the hat, there'd be no visual evidence that I'd been in the area, even if it might be hard to believe that another giant of a man wearing a duster had stolen my car. And the stolen vehicle report would back up my statement.

Once I'd seen them off, I gathered everything together for the summoning and took it to the small storage room beyond the lab, where the greater summoning circle was laid into the floor.

The circle wasn't actually new to the home. The previous owner of the house had been a Loup Garou, a man with a bloodline curse that passed from generation to generation that turned the victim into a ferocious beast once a month.

Unlike the more mundane shape-shifters, a Loup Garou has no control when they transform. They would hunt and kill anyone they came across, regardless of who they were.

To prevent his darker nature from ruling his life, Harley MacFinn had built an extensive magic circle in the basement, where he could trap himself on the nights where he turned into a crazed monster. It'd been destroyed by those trying to frame him for murder, but the bones of a powerful circle had remained.

After I'd moved in, I'd repaired the circle, while adding some enhancements. It was the perfect tool for summoning up creatures that you'd rather not have loose behind your wards. The triple rings would keep almost anything trapped inside.

In no time at all, I completed the summoning ritual that Bob had recommended, and waited for the Loa to show up.

It didn't take long. The wooden marionnette in the inner circle shifted, before sitting upright. The skeleton doll was a mirror of the one Bob used to get around. I'd originally intended to use his for summonings, but he'd requested a separate one. Sometimes the creatures I called up left magical residues, which he compared to having to use a toilet seat covered in someone else's piss.

I wasn't sure how he knew what that would be like, seeing as he didn't use a toilet. But I could respect the analogy.

As the marionette stood, I saw its wooden skull look around, before its carved eyes focused on me. There was no light shining from within like with Bob, so I had no way of knowing what the Loa was thinking.

"Why did you summon me, bokkor?"

The spirit's tone was curt, which I wasn't expecting.

"A spirit in my service recommended you to me," I said. "I am looking—"

"I know of what you seek," Ulsharavas replied, cutting me off. "If your spirit were wise, it would know that I do not serve your kind."

"Uh, my kind?" I asked, growing confused.

"You are bokkor," the Loa declared, making it sound like a curse. "You are twisted by darkness. I will not help your kind."

"I've seen some shit, but I'm not a bad guy," I argued, feeling somewhat offended by the blank stare of the doll.

"Your soul is corrupted," Ulsharavas stated. "I will not aid one such as you."

I scowled down at the doll, feeling my temper spike. "I don't think you understand—"

"I understand more than you know," the spirit replied. "I see what you have become. I see what you are becoming. I will have no part in it."

My eyes narrowed. "You know nothing about me."

"I know enough, bokkor," the doll said firmly. "I shall offer you no aid. Strike my name from your memory; do not summon me again."

"I'll—" is as far as I got before the doll collapsed, the spirit animating it disappearing in an instant.

I checked the circle, making sure the Loa wasn't trying something. If I broke the barrier and it was still there, there'd be nothing protecting me from its power. But after a moment it became clear that the thing was gone.

Frustrated, I went back out to the lab, where I relayed the conversation to Bob.

"That is odd," he replied, sounding surprised himself. He watched as I checked the ritual over, making sure I hadn't made a mistake. But everything had been right; the spirit had simply refused to work with me.

"Fucking spirits," I spat, throwing the book as a flash of cold rage pierced through me. It bounced off the wall and fell to the floor, where I left it for the time being. "Present company excluded, of course," I added as I calmed down.

"Of course," Bob replied drolly.

"So what now?" I asked as I paced the dark lab.

"I will give the prophecy some more thought," Bob replied. "As for the Shroud, you'll have to track it down via other means."

I nodded, and set about tidying up the mess I'd made while preparing for the summoning. Once everything was put away, I headed upstairs. There was nothing to do until morning.

I put the Loa's words out of mind. It didn't know what the hell it was talking about.


After getting only a few hours of sleep, the new day dawned, with me having made no progress. Bob hadn't thought of anything more to do about the prophecy, so that was put on the back burner while I focused on finding the Shroud.

I'd done what I could, trying to find someone or something that knew where to look. Those beings that replied to my summons either didn't know or weren't sharing. There were others that may know, but the cost of using them was too high, no matter the stakes of finding the Shroud.

Lacuna's people hadn't turned up any leads on that front either. There'd been an off chance that a fairy might happen across a trace of the Shroud's power, just like Snakeroot had sensed the dark magics of the corpse. But like Bob had suspected, the frequency of the Shroud's magic — assuming it had any — was too different from that of those in my service.

I wasn't sure if that meant something or not.

With magic striking out, I'd have to rely on more mundane means to locate the thieves. But Chicagoland is a big place to hide a blanket, especially if those selling it knew others were looking for them. And there was alway a chance that the sellers hadn't even arrived in town yet.

Thankfully, I had other resources I could call on.

The phone rang while I was sitting at the kitchen table eating a pizza bagel. Because bagels are breakfast food, according to Toot.

"I think we've got something," Moss said, sounding tired. My guess was that he'd been up all night coordinating the search for the two thieves.

"What'd you find?"

"I forwarded those photos around to everyone in town," Moss informed me. "I was thinking maybe one of our people at the airport or the train station might be able to help."

"Did someone see them arrive?" I asked.

"No," the man replied. "But you know how we've got people on the waterfront?"

That was an understatement. One of the things the Streetwolves had done to get themselves established in town had been to take over certain territories from Marcone. There were plenty of older gangsters that remembered the days before Gentleman Johnny had seized control; plenty that had been all too willing to help the rebuilt Streetwolves take something back.

The gang had managed to seize the Port of Chicago facilities around Lake Calumet, along with warehouses that serviced those and the trains. They'd begun to spread their influence from there, until it seemed like they had either members or informants all around town.

"I heard from a guy at one of the harbors," Moss explained. "A pleasure boat arrived not too long ago bearing two female passengers. They've stayed on board for the most part, and are scheduled to leave tomorrow morning."

"That fits the time-frame," I observed. If I was right, and the deal was going down that same night at Marcone's auction, then the two would be looking to head out of town shortly after the exchange was made.

"One blond, one brunette," Moss continued. "The pictures were too blurry for him to confirm, but he thinks it's them. Said that they had foreign accents."

"Lucky that he'd remember them," I said, not sure if I should dare to hope for some luck.

"Not all that lucky," Moss replied, his British accent taking on a tone that all but relayed his crooked smile. "Chamberlain said the blond's quite the looker, and the other isn't half bad."

"Good to know. You got an address for me?" I asked, retrieving a pencil and paper.

The gang member relayed the info, and I jotted it down. "They're staying on the boat?"

"So he said," Moss replied.

"Makes sense," I said, realizing that their choice in method of travel might not be chance. Magic broke down over open water; keeping the Shroud on the boat might prevent anyone from being able to locate it. Which explained why everyone had come up short, me included.

"Alright, I'll let you know if it pans out," I told him. "Thanks, Moss."

"Sure thing."

As I hung up, I finished off the last of the breakfast, and wondered if things were finally turning my way.


With the jeep still over in lock-up while the police dusted it for fingerprints, I found myself hailing a cab, which delivered me to the harbor a short time later.

It didn't take me long to find the boat. Moss's contact had provided clear instructions on where to find it, and I spent a few minutes just watching the craft. There was something tingling at the edge of my senses, but I couldn't quite make out what it was. It was a sensation of being watched, the kind that put the mantle on edge.

Nothing moved on the boat, and after a while, I decided to move in. If there was something watching me, I'd deal with it when I had to. Just like I always did.

I walked past the boat twice, trying to pass myself off as someone lost at sea. As I did, I noted movement behind one of the portholes on the side of the boat. Realizing someone was moving around inside, I took up a position just far enough to allow me to use a talent that likely wasn't magical, but was still rare in that day and age: I Listened.

My gaze focused on the porthole as I tuned in. At first I thought there were two people in there, but quickly realized I was hearing one end of a phone conversation.

"Unacceptable," said a quiet, female voice from inside the cabin. The accent was Spanish, but had the tell-tale cadence of someone that had learned English from a native. "The job entailed a great deal more expense than was originally estimated. I'm raising the price to reflect this, nothing more."

Frost slid over my eyes as I used the mantle to get a better look at the speaker. The ice shifted, reflecting and refracting the light as it zoomed in like a telescope. With its help, I could just make out the pleasant form of a dark haired woman. She was wearing a long gown of dark silk, and was pacing slowly back and forth as she spoke.

"Would you like an invoice for your tax return then? I told you the quote was only an estimate. It happens." The woman paused in her pacing as she received the reply she wanted. 'Excellent. As scheduled, then."

With the call done, the woman tossed the cell phone onto the bed of the cabin. She started walking away from it, but a chirping sound drew her back. After a moment, she answered without speaking. Whoever was calling must have said the wrong thing, as she said, "I'm sorry. You've the wrong number."

After ending the call, the woman tossed the phone aside again and let the nightgown slide off her shoulders. My pulse quickened as something inside me enjoyed the sight of her curves more than it should.

Once the gown was off, the woman stepped to a door. It opened upon what I assumed was the head, where I could hear the sound of running water. Steam rolled through the door until she closed it behind her.

I Listened for another moment, but didn't hear anything else of note. My lips pursed as I considered what I'd heard, and whether or not this might be the dark-haired Francisca Garcia from Vincent's files. The accent might very well match the name, but that was hardly enough to go on.

Ultimately it was the conversation that sealed it for me. That might have been an innocuous exchange between two individuals discussing the sale of baseball cards, but I doubted it.

With a glance confirming no-one else was around, I stepped onto the gangway and up to the deck of the boat.

I moved quickly, heading down the narrow, steep stairs to the lower level. The cabin was small, which is never good for those well on their way to seven feet in height. Nor was it handy to be lugging around a six foot length of wood. But I moved stealthily, unconsciously throwing up my veil as I slipped into the room.

Looking about, I tried to figure out where they might have stashed something as valuable as the Shroud. There weren't many places to put it. The cabin consisted of a double bed that took up most of the space in the room, a washer and dryer stacked in one corner, and a small kitchenette with a couple of refrigerators and a sink.

My eyes drifted back to the fridges, wondering why a boat would have two. With my spidey sense tingling, I made my way over. The first was stocked with some food stuffs, while the second turned out to be a false front concealing a cabinet with a metal strongbox.

As I reached for the small safe, I Listened again, confirming that the shower was still running. But my ears picked up the soft tread of footsteps elsewhere, and I froze.

Closing the door of the false fridge in a hurry, I moved to the corner with the washer and dryer just as a figure appeared in the doorway, brandishing a gun.

"What the hell?" the pretty blond said as she scanned the room, the barrel of the gun moving back and forth. She was wearing some heavy duty gear, consisting of fatigue pants, a heavy jacket, and some combat boots. Her hair was cut short in a pixie style, which reminded me of another blond I knew that was pleasant to look at.

Once again I had to force down the voice in my head that urged me to change my priorities. The mantle was already simmering after seeing Garcia in the nude, and I'd been surprised at the urge I'd felt to go into the bathroom rather than search for the Shroud. Now it was taking in the pleasant curves of the woman I took to be Anna Valmont, and wanted nothing more than to see if she were up to a quick use of the small bunk in the cabin.

Instead, I remained still, counting on the veil to keep me out of sight. I steadied my breathing, knowing the air-based veil would shroud even that.

After taking a moment to scan the room, the blond moved to the bathroom door. "Francisca?" she called softly.

Bingo.

The door opened to reveal the second woman, who was now wearing a simple dress. "Did you get whoever it was?"

"He's not in there?" Anna Valmont replied, sounding bewildered.

"Why would he be?" Garcia replied, arching a dark eyebrow.

"Because I watched him come aboard," Valmont replied. "I saw him come down here."

The other woman looked around, her search fairing no better than the other's. "Unless he can turn himself invisible, I would say he did not."

The doubt in her voice helped me to realize that she was joking. She didn't actually think I might have used a veil to hide myself. Which meant that they weren't in-the-know about magic. Most weren't, but I found myself slightly surprised.

"I'm sure I saw him," Valmont insisted, growing frustrated. She started forward, clearly worried that she'd made a mistake.

At first I thought she was heading for the lock-box, but realized after a second that she was instead heading my direction. Her eyes weren't focused on me, so I didn't think she'd seen through the veil.

Regardless of her intent, she was about to bump into me. As she grew close, I sub-vocalized a spell, gesturing at her hand. "Arctis."

The power spent on the spell wasn't all that much, but its effect was immediate. Valmont let loose a startled curse as ice blossomed across the gun she held, freezing the hammer into place.

With her eyes on that, I dropped the veil and reached for the gun. She'd only just begun to realize I was there before I'd seized the barrel in one hand, while snapping my staff at her head with the other.

The wood bounced solidly off her skull. I'd used just enough strength to knock her out, and did so again as I swung the staff toward Garcia, who's eyes were too busy staring at me in complete shock to see the blow coming. It caught her across the temple, and she collapsed back into the head.

"Sorry about that, ladies," I told their unconscious forms. Stepping over Valmont, I opened the false fridge and pulled the strong-box out. It was heavy, but not overly so. "Trust me, this is for the best. You have no idea what kind of trouble you were getting yourselves into."

Since neither was in any condition to thank me, I stepped out of the cabin and started my way up the stairs. As I climbed, the light shining down from above shifted, shadows falling across me.

I looked up in time to see another shape-shifted demon hurtling down at me, and a writhing mass of flexible steel blades shooting toward my face.