"Lion Seen On Tenth Avenue"
May. 23rd, 2022 05:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"Lion Seen On Tenth Avenue"
2/4-2/7/2000
I.
Lauren Sable Reilly pulled aside the heavy curtains and gazed unhappily out at East 38th Street. Tiny snow crystals swirled visibly, and she felt sure the wind chill would be near zero. She was already wearing boots, heavy sweat pants and dark red sweater with a rolled collar, and it was cozy in the KDF headquarters. The prospect of going outside did not fill her with eagerness.
At only twenty-two, Sable conducted herself so seriously that people treated her as if she were considerably older. Five inches over five feet in height and slim, she had glossy black hair brushed straight back from a high forehead. Sable's mixed parentage showed in her huge dark eyes, snub nose and full lips but she was remarkably unaware of how attractive she was, even without make-up as usual. It just was not something she gave any thought to. Frowning as she let the curtain fall, Sable took her down-filled coat off one of the wall hooks and tugged it on dutifully.
Hearing light footsteps trotting down the staircase, she glanced up and smiled despite herself. Unicorn! All in white as usual, almost skipping gleefully down the steps into the front hall with eagerness all over her perfect little face. Not quite twenty, she was the youngest member of the new KDF team and the most zealous. Ashley Whitaker was just over five feet tall and just under a hundred pounds. With her pale skin, light blue eyes and platinum blond hair, her all-white suit made her look like some sort of snow elf. Under one arm, she held a visored helmet.
"Hey, Sable!" she called out as she hopped down the final three steps with both feet together. "Ready to go? Let's solve this mystery, what do you say?"
"Where's your talisman?" Sable asked.
"Right here, of course," Ashley answered, swinging around a three-foot leather cylinder she had strapped to her back. "As if I would charge out into excitement without my horn."
Sable raised one eyebrow. "And you are wearing the Trom armor under that field suit? All the specified weapons?"
"You bet. It's FREEZING out, girlfriend! Once I seal this helmet, though, I'll be comfy as if I were wrapped in a blanket in a ski lodge sipping hot chocolate."
"Ashley, I love your enthusiasm. I wish I shared it."
"Hey, I was raised to be the second Unicorn. My mom had me running around adjacent realms when I was just out of diapers." Ashley grinned with self-assurance that had never been seriously tested. "I've been looking forward to this since I could walk. What are we waiting for?"
"Argent." Sable pulled on leather gloves and tugged a knit wool cap down over her head. "We don't have much to go on, you know. Three different people reported seeing a big cat on Tenth Avenue the night before last. A lion with a black hide, running across the street and leaping over a fence. That's all we know."
"A black lion...." Ashley mumbled. "You know, I wonder if maybe.. you know about the Black Lion of Danarak? The Cat's-Claw?"
"Sure. Kwali was a KDF member, I've read his file. He died ten years ago in the Final Halloween." Sable studied Ashley's face thoughtfully. "So we're wondering the same thing."
"That someone found the Cat's Claw?" Ashley asked. "Yeah, it's a thought. I guess two smart girls reach the same conclusion!"
Coming down the stairs, Sheng Mo-Yuan greeted them with a raised hand. Only of medium height but wide and strongly built, Sheng seemed at first to be a Northern Chinese but he was not. The hawklike nose and high cheekbones indicated to those who knew the Midnight War that he was actually from the realm of Chujir. Known as Argent, Sheng could channel gralic force into his body to enhance his speed or strength or resilience greatly, but only using one effect at a time.
As he reached the bottom of the steps, Argent finished buttoning his long cloth coat. He was already wearing wool gloves and a knit cap much like Sable's. "All set," he announced. "Where's everyone else?"
"Megan and Josef are at Tel Shai," Sable said. "Our captain was investigating something upstate. The three of us will investigate these lion sightings first and see what we can turn up."
"Fine, suits me," Sheng told her. "I haven't left the building in two days, I'm getting itchy."
Sable led her partners down the concealed steps to the basement, where they went along the narrow walkway between the vault and the arsenal to a rough wooden door. Beyond that was the underground garage just large to squeeze two cars in. Only the dark green Ford Mustang was there at the moment, their captain had the taken the other car. Argent reached for one of the sets of keys hanging on hooks inside the door, but Unicorn beat him to it.
"Not on your life," she laughed. "You don't have your license yet. Every time you try to drive, the city is in danger. Forget it." She unslung the unicorn horn and placed it carefully in the back seat before sliding behind the wheel. Sable went around to the front passenger seat, leaving Sheng to grudgingly get in the back.
"This is no way to get experience," he mumbled to himself, then settled down. Unicorn drove up the wide concrete ramp with its sharp turn at the top. The steel barrier rose automatically, letting them out in an alley that opened on Lexington Avenue.
"Now for some lion hunting," chuckled Ashley but when she glanced over, the somber look on Sable's face chastised her.
II.
Waking up groggily, Levon raised his head and tried to focus. The wall clock said nine-thirty. He had napped for just under two hours. Sitting up on the ancient couch which smelled of decades of cigarette smoke and spilled food, he sat and rubbed his face and smacked his lips. The desparate situation came back to him.
Levon Bingham was a young black man with thoughtful eyes in a wide face, very dark skin, and hair cropped near to being shaven. At twenty-two, he was a few inches under six feet tall and scrawny. Levon had slept in the baggy jeans and maroon sweatshirt he had been wearing when he had come back to his grandmother's apartment at dawn. Yawning, he got to his feet and listened. From his grandmother's bedroom came the deep rattling snore he knew so well. His parents had never been there for him, Gramma was his only anchor.
Walking over to peer hopefully into the refrigerator, he surveyed slim pickings. Well, he didn't want to wake Gramma up by scrambling some eggs, so he put down a paper towel, got two slices of rye bread, two pieces of boiled ham and one of cheese. Without mustard or butter, he chewed slowly on the sandwich and tried not to think about his big problem.
A warm spot on his chest grew almost painful. Under his sweatshirt, suspended by a fine chain around his neck, a six-inch-long black talon burned against his skin. He felt comforted by its heat, the strength it seemed to give him. There was no decision to make. He would never give the Cat's Claw up.
Using the bathroom, Levon scrubbed his hands and face with steaming hot water and dried them vigorously. Then the ancient talisman on his chest flared up painfully, making him gasp. It was warning him. The young man straightened up and crept across the three room apartment to peek out the window down at Tenth Avenue.
There they were! Three big men wrapped in heavy overcoats with collars up and wide-brimmed hats. White men, with expressionless faces. They were talking to each other about something, and he saw one of them turned a pale face up toward his window. That face looked stiff and lifeless. The Cold Ones. Without thinking, Levon spun and hurried across the apartment with its clutter of clothing piled on chairs and old newspapers in a loose stack on the floor. He did not want to wake his grandmother.
Out in the hallway, down the narrow stairs with its loose banister, Levon rushed to the first floor. Through the glass panel in the door, he could see the Cold Ones looming up. He did not want to face them here. To his right, the door to the basement was ajar.
Just as the Cold Ones entered the foyer, Levon headed down to the cellar stairs and left the door wide open behind them. He knew they would glimpse him. The cellar held two big washing machines and dryers, random bicycles and broken furniture and general debris but it did offer an open space big enough for his purposes.
Standing facing the stairs, Levon Bingham had just enough time to realize he wasn't exactly afraid... he was excited. He was enjoying this somehow. This made no sense, but he was so caught up with his heart racing and his head almost spinning that he couldn't think about it.
The three strange men came slowly down the stairs. They moved stiffly and awkwardly, almost like the elderly being careful where each foot was placed. The one in front lifted his head. That face was pale and rigid, its skin dry as parchment and the eyes were horribly solid white with no pupils. They were rolled up into the sockets.
Surprising even himself, Levon laughed almost inaudibly.
The Cold One held out a withered hand, palm up. "Give us the Claw," said a hollow voice.
"Come and take it!" Levon answered. As the Cold Ones lurched forward, raising their open hands, he stepped forward to meet them. His hands suddenly swelled up twice their normal size, melting and changing in an instant, vicious curved claws coming out. He rushed at the killers with two lion paws on the ends of his arms.
III.
The wind never stopped completely. Dry powdery snow was blown restlessly about, covering where all the sidewalks that had been swept. On Tenth Avenue in the lower 40s, the three new KDF members stood huddled closely together. There was minimal traffic and almost no one walking about. On a day like this, the usual crowds thinned to only those who had no choice.
Unicorn had her helmet on with the visor down, and her voice came clearly through the grille in the jawbar. "You guys oughtta wear the field suits on a day like this," she chirped. "I'm snug and toasty."
"Thanks, Ashley," Sable snapped a little too sharply. She was staring at the intersection where the black lion had been reported. Her gift was that she could enhance her senses with gralic force far beyond what doctors would say was possible. It was not combat oriented, but her power was often the most useful of all of them in investigation.
But today her abilities were failing her. "This is hopeless," she announced after a few minutes. "This thin layer of fresh snow covers up any clues I might have been able to spot. There's only one thing I see." She touched the side of a aged brick building with a gloved finger. "This."
As she took a small plastic envelope from a pocket and placed something within it, Argent said, "What are you talking about? I don't see anything!"
"Three hairs," Sable told him. "Black, thick. Not Human at all. They look like cat hairs to me but not quite. I want to have them analyzed."
"Oh, I get it. And they were stuck in a rough spot on the wall! That's where the pussycat rubbed as he was running around the neighborhood." Ashley Whitaker leaned close to where the hairs had been. "You've got miscropic vision, Lauren. The first time I watched you identify fingerprints on a car door that I couldn't even see, I was impressed."
"There's something more," Sable said. "My sense of smell is turned way up. Even with the wind, a spoor lingers. I recognize it from when I went to the Bronx Zoo as a kid. It's a lion, all right."
Sheng Mo-Yuan glanced around the area a little apprehensively. "So... there really has been a lion here? I thought there would be some other explanation."
"Smells like lion to me," she answered. "But with the wind and the snow, I can't follow the scent. Too bad. On a calm day, I think I could track the beast down." She tucked the envelope away, and turned to face her teammates. "Back to headquarters. At least now we know there is something weird going on. When Jeremy returns, we can see what he thinks."
Heading back to where they had parked the Mustang, they were silent for a few minutes. Then, as Sable got behind the wheel, she said, "No one knows what happened to the Cat's-Claw."
Argent dropped onto the back seat. "What exactly is that thing anyway? I know it's a talisman of some kind."
Sable used the wipers to clear the fluffy snow from the windshield. "It's a major talisman. From the Corruption thousands of years ago. The Cat's-Claw gives its bearer a number of attributes but most important is the ability to assume the form of the Daranakan god, the Black Lion."
"And Kwali was from Danarak," Unicorn chimed in. "I met him once but I was just little and I don't remember much. He died in the Final Halloween, in Necropolis. The Cat's-Claw was missing when the KDF recovered his body and nobody knows what happened to it." The tiny blonde slid up the visor of her helmet and turned around in her seat to smile at Argent behind her. "Until now, I guess."
Back on 38th Street, they returned to the small garage beneath the headquarters building and found the Subaru Outback in its spot. "Looks like our captain is back," Sable said. She got out of the car, hung the keys back up and started for the door. "Let's report."
They made their way along the narrow walkway, past the Vault and the arsenal, past the water tank and Trom power generator, until they were going up concrete steps to emerge through a panel in the back of the walk-in closet. The three of them emerged into the front hall. Glad to be inside again, Sable hung up her coat with the gloves and hat tucked into its pockets. Beside her, Unicorn lifted off her helmet and placed it on top of a cabinet.
"Where do you think he is?" she asked, unzipping the front of her field jacket.
"Probably up in the conference room, moping around." Argent had carelessly tossed his own coat on a hook and was already hurrying up the staircase. "Let's tell him what's up."
On the second floor, much of the conference room was taken up by the long oak table with its twelve chairs. At the head sat their captain, the leader of their team of Tel Shai knight. Jeremy Bane glanced up at the three entering the room with the usual cool appraisal in his pale eyes but he smiled very faintly. "Good timing, you guys," he said. "I just returned myself. Have you heard about what happened on Tenth Avenue last night?"
"No," Sable answered with a little surprise as she took a seat. "We just came from there."
Bane nodded. "The police contacted me, through Inspector Klein of course. Whenever anything weird or gruesome happens, they bring us in off the record. Three bodies were found in the basement of an apartment building on Tenth and 44th. They had been ripped up thoroughly. Autopsies are scheduled for today, but the Medical Examiner's unofficial reaction was that they had been savaged by wild animals."
"Like a lion, maybe perhaps? I'm just SAYING," Unicorn put in.
"We're all thinking the same thing." The Dire Wolf frowned and went on, "I wanted Sable to be there for the autopsies. With your vision powers, you'd see clues they wouldn't. But the Medical Examiner won't allow it. He doesn't trust the new team the way he used to let us old-timers break all the rules."
"Luckily you guys have ME on the team," Ashley continued. "With my horn, I can just neutralize this Claw thing and the danger is over."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that. Wakimbe's Claw is very old and potent. It might be too strong for your Alicorn to affect, Ashley."
"We'll see," she replied in a sing-song voice and settled back with a smug grin.
Bane frowned at her. "I suppose there are some mundane possibilities that could explain this. I doubt they're true but we should mention them. One, that some wealthy fool bought a lion cub as a pet and it has escaped now that it has reached full growth. Or that such an animal had escaped from a zoo or circus or something." The Dire Wolf shrugged. His long, somber face showed complete disbelief. "Such things have happened, of course. But I think we can discount them in this case."
"How can you expect us to believe a lion cub escaped? That's silly," Sheng scoffed. "I'm sure the police are already looking into any remote chance that those events could have happened."
Bane never reacted to Sheng's insolence. "No, this is Midnight War. I'm sure of it. The Cat's-Claw has been found."
"And so close to our headquarters?" asked Sable. "Coincidence?"
"I doubt it," Bane said. "Talismans like that seem to make their way from one temporary owner to another until they get where they want to be. I've seen it many times."
"Right now, someone has the Cat's-Claw and they seem to be able to use it," Sable said. "We have to act fast. Right in Manhattan, someone can turn into a gigantic lion and run amok."
"It's worse than that," the Dire Wolf told them. "The Black Lion is not a natural animal. It's a gralic construct charged with almost unlimited force. I've seen it in action. Bullets won't even annoy it, it can tear a Greyhound bus apart if it wants to. Kwali was a disciplined, highly-trained hero and even he had trouble controlling it sometimes. Everyone in this city is in imminent danger." He got to his feet. "We're going to start searching the area. Same three-man teams we used already. I want everyone in their field suits, fully armed. Let's move."
IV.
Levon was surprised to glance up at a corner and found he had reached 70th Street. How long had he been walking? He hadn't been aware of it. The young man looked around him, half expecting horrified stares from everyone but people just passed by without noticing. His hands felt numb from the cold and he shoved them in his pants pockets. He needed to get inside.
Across the street was a deli, and Levon crossed over to go inside. The interior was warm and damp, crowded, filled with tempting smells. He had two hundred dollars in his pocket and nothing else in the world. Maybe he should go back to his grandma's apartment to get some clothes but he was afraid to be seen there. It was so hard to think about what to do. Whether he realized it or not, what had happened in that basement had left him in shock. Digging in his pocket, he got a few singles out and bought a bag of Nachos and a can of root beer. Standing by the window looking out on Tenth Avenue, he ate the chips slowly and turned the situation over and over in his mind without getting anywhere.
Someone was touching him, gripping his shoulder and squeezing. Levon turned his head numbly and saw a very impressive black man, well over six feet tall and wearing a tailored suit with a beige topcoat. The man had skin as dark as Levon's, short-cropped hair and a face handsome enough to pose for magazine ads. The teeth showing in that friendly smile gleamed flawlessly.
"Son," said the man. "We need to talk."
"We do? Really? I don't know you." Levon drew back and broke contact.
"My name is Megistus. I am an authority on the supernatural and the occult. I can tell you are wearing an ancient talisman around your neck."
"Leave me alone, mister," snapped Levon but without conviction. There was something about this man's self-assurance that held his attention. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The man tapped a manicured finger to Levon's chest. "Ah. The Claw of Wakimbe. I knew it would turn up eventually. You are in great danger, young man. What is your name?"
"Levon, Levon Bingham. But I don't know how it's your business." Despite his natural wariness, he was curious how this man knew so much. "Claw of... Wakimbe?"
"Ah, you do not trust me yet," Megistus said. There was the faintest accent in his voice. "Listen. The claw is seven inches long, curved and ending in a needle sharp point. It hangs from a fine chain of what will seem to be silver to you." Seeing the fascination in Levon's voice, the older man continued, "And when you are in danger, the Cat's-Claw will grow warm against your skin. Am I right?"
Levon finished his root beer and decided he had to learn more. "You said your name was Megistus? Are you a brother from here? West Coast? Where are you from?"
"I am actually African. Come with me. We will have lunch at a restaurant just down the street and I will explain the situation." He gestured toward the door. "Do you like Italian food?"
"I could stand a meal right now," Levon admitted. "But I'm not agreeing to anything. I just say I'll listen to your pitch. That's it."
"That is all I ask." Megistus held the deli door open and frigid air from outside rushed in.
V.
As they hurried along deserted dark streets, Argent paused at the corner of Tenth Avenue and 48th Street. "I should have gone to that hotel after the Cat's-Claw. Let our captain handle these underlings with you."
Sable shook her helmeted head. They were speaking through the communications links and anyone nearby would not have heard them. "Jeremy knows what he's doing."
"Pah! He has speed. I have speed AND strength AND durability. It should be my place at the head of this team whenever there's action. Come on, Sable, surely you can see that!"
She made a scoffing noise. "Honestly, our captain is more patient with you than I would be. If you keep trying to challenge his authority, he might decide to take you down a notch. You didn't do too well sparring with him on our first day."
"I was taking it easy on my elders!" Sheng laughed. "Wait and see. I'll prove I'm the natural leader on his team. Jeremy can be our senior adviser."
Lauren Sable Reilly opened the visor to her helmet, wincing as the warm air inside rushed out to be replaced by chill but she had to use her enhanced senses. Concentrating on smell, she blocked out the usual gasoline fumes and urine from doorways and rotting food in a dented aluminum garbage can at the curb. It took effort. After a moment, she picked up what she was seeking, a strange combination of spicy and the sweet sickliness of dead flesh. The mixture was something unknown to her.
"I've got it," she told her partner. "Very close. I wonder if... this could be the scent of zombies? Death and yet something else. Jeremy said we should investigate cautiously. The bodies found in that basement had all the signs of having been dead thirty-six to forty-eight hours but someone in the building swears having seen them walk in the front door this morning. Unless they were already Undead...!"
"Stop, are you TRYING to give me the creeps? Back in Chujir, we know the dead can leave their graves if they were wronged in life so badly it keeps them from resting. But I haven't seen a zombie and am not exactly eager to start." Sheng clapped his hands together. "But anyway. You're the tracker and bloodhound of the team, Lauren. Lead on!"
"We're right next to the smell. That building there with the pizza joint on the first floor. One of the apartments above." She slid the visor down and her field suit automatically brought the air inside to a comfortable temperature. Sable adjusted her anesthetic dart in its holster at the small of her back, then frowned. Against zombies? Catching Argent's eye, she said, "If there's fighting, that's your area of expertise. Okay?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Sheng Mo-Yuan chuckled. "Let's see the best way to get into that den of Undead." The pizza place was open, its big glass front fogged by the warmth within. Written in red script on the window was GENUINE SICILIAN PIZZA - SPAGHETTI- SANDWICHES - BEER AND WINE, with a phone number. He could see two men in white pants and shirts working the ovens, but there was only one customer sitting at a table. Going around to the side of a building, the Chujiran pressed his hand against a narrow door with a small plate that said 189 TENTH on it. It was unlocked.
As he turned the doorknob, Argent glanced back. He found Sable examining a gleaming black Lincoln sedan that sat at the curb. "What?"
"The smell is really potent around this car," she answered. "I think a normal person could detect it. It's from something dead of course, but also something... medicinal. Like a smell you'd find in a hospital." Sable came over to join him. "Remember the plate number, Sheng. UYY-2188."
"Sure." The Chujiran held the door open behind him as he stepped into a narrow foyer with stairs going up. To their right was a bank of small metal mailboxes and a wastepaper bin. On the left was a closed door and Sable sniffed once.
"That's a janitor's closet," she said. "Damp mop, Pine-Sol. Bags of rock salt." The young woman turned her face toward the stairs and tapped Argent on the shoulder. "One of them is coming down. They know we're here!"
"Good," answered Argent. As a tall thin form showed at the landing above them, the Chujiran shifted his gralic focus to speed. Quicker than any athlete, he hurdled up taking two of the steps at a time and crashed headlong into the Cold One. They slammed up against the wall behind the zombie and Sheng smashed three rapid-fire punches that rocked the pale face from side to side. As the Cold One staggered, Sheng put his gralic force into strength and drove his fist to the zombie's chest to break the sternum with a brittle snapping noise. He flung the undead thing aside.
Following him up the staircase, Sable probed the area with her hearing enhanced. Through her helmet link, she whispered to her partner. "Four more of them in the room to your left. And two living Humans. One much smaller, dragging a foot."
"Got it," Sheng answered and rushed over to yank the door open. Standing just inside were two more of the Cold Ones. He tackled them headlong, slamming them up with another zombie who had been approaching. The three Undead went down in a clumsy tangle of arms and legs. Argent was still using increased strength. He seized a Cold One by the head and twisted it completely around, then knelt to thump his elbow into the face of another. These were not mere zombies, he realized, but more like Humans who were still barely alive and kept functioning by some means. Maybe the chemical that Sable detected, he wondered. But another one was coming up behind him.
In the doorway, Lauren Sable Reilly hesitated. She did not have much Kumundu training, not enough to count on in a real fight. The anesthetic dart gun would probably not be effective against these creatures. The other gadgets and devices concealed in her field suit like the miniature smoke bombs or resonance grenades would confuse Sheng as much as the enemy. All these thoughts took less than a second. She drew the eight-inch survival knife sheathed to her left thigh just as a Cold One lunged at her. The zombie impaled itself directly on that blade as she extended her arm to meet the attack and, as he fell, the knife was wrenched from her grasp.
Behind her, a crash echoed as a Cold One hit the wall so hard it bounced forward and fell straight down. Sheng Mo-Yuan lowered his leg from that straight side kick, whirled around and saw no further attackers. He exhaled sharply and stood up. "Lauren? How are you?"
"I'm good," she answered, tugging the knife out of the Cold One. There was no blood on it, only a thin clear ooze she wiped off on the dead thing's shirt. "These aren't just zombies. I don't know, they seem almost alive instead of reanimated dead."
Argent was looking around at the shabby apartment. The couch and coffee table and two chairs had all been pushed back against one wall for one reason. There was no TV, no newspapers or magazines and bits of clothing scattered about. The apartment seemed almost vacant. A bathroom door was fully open and another door evidently showed where the bedroom was. "Say. Weren't there supposed to be some live ones here?"
Leaping over to the grimy window that overlooked Tenth Avenue, Sable was just in time to see the black Lincoln ease away from the curb. From the rear seat, a withered small face glared up venomously at her... a face so old, with its hooked nose and chin almost meeting, that comparisons with a vulture seemed inescaple. She only caught a glimpse of that hate-filled face before the car sped away.
"Megistus," she breathed. That was not a face one could easily forget. She turned back to start yanking Argent toward the door. "Sheng, that was Megistus! An Alchemist a hundred years old. We have to join Jeremy and Ashley right away."
"Well, we certainly seem to be done here," Argent said with a shrug as he stepped over the remains of a Cold One.
VI.
As Bane went through the lobby of Hampton House, he unfastened his helmet and lifted it off. Right behind him, trotting to keep up with his quick stride, Unicorn did the same. Her platinum hair was tied in a tight ponytail that bobbed as she walked. The clerk at the desk opened his mouth but shut it again without daring to speak. Something about the Dire Wolf's grim face and purposeful actions discouraged the clerk. The elevator slid open as the two Tel Shai knights approached and they got in without hesitation. Bane punched the button for the penthouse and lowered his helmet back on but left the visor up.
Strapping her own helmet back on, Ashley asked, "Boy! Do you realize the way you intimidate people?" She adjusted the strap across her chest so that she could reach the unicorn horn more easily, tightening the buckle.
"I count on it," Bane answered. As the elevator door opened, they stepped out into a luxurious corridor with subdued lighting and dark wood walls. The windows were curtained, the air was warm and clean-smelling, and a big man in a suit and tie turned to face them as he heard the door chime open.
"This is a private suite, sir-" was as far as he got before a hard tight fist drove into his diaphragm with blurring speed. The air left his lungs with a gush and he sagged to his knees as Bane caught him by the shirtfront. The Dire Wolf glared up and down the hallway but saw no one else. While the guard was struggling to catch his breath, Bane dragged him over to where a chair sat against the wall and dropped him into it.
"Yikes," said Ashley. "I was watching you and I still didn't see that."
Bane reached in his field jacket, took out a magazine of the anesthetic darts and ejected one. He jabbed its point into the side of the guard's neck, counted to three and released the man just as the snoring started. "He's out of the way for the next forty minutes or so. And when he does wake up, he won't feel that great for a while."
"Captain, I have to ask. How did you know he was a bad guy? All he did was tell us this floor is private."
"Look at at the way his jacket hangs on this side. See, he's got a 45 holstered under it." Bane tugged the man's jacket aside, took the gun out and pocketed it himself. "I could tell by his body language he was armed, his balance was off. After you get some more Kumundu training, you'll see it too."
"Seems like I have more to learn than I realized," the Unicorn admitted. She pointed at the door next to the chair in which the drugged man was slumped. "I guess we don't knock and wait to be let in?"
Bane answered by stepping close to the door. "You'll learn this, too." He put one foot behind the other, twisted from the waist and slapped the heel of his hand just above the doorknob. The lock snapped audibly and the door slammed inward so hard that they could hear a painting fell off the wall inside with breaking glass. Even as the door crashed open, the Dire Wolf was inside the suite and wheeling around to face any attack.
Across the plush-carpeted main room, two black men had jumped up from comfortable chairs at the sudden intrusion. The older was tall and well dressed, and he dropped a coffee cup to the floor without realizing. The younger one sprang out of his chair and dropped into a crouch that had an unmistakably feline air to it.
"There they are, Levon!" cried the older man. "I told you that the enemy would send his assassins for you. Be careful!"
"I'm not the one who needs to careful," Levon Bingham answered harshly. He swung toward the two intruders and there was an inexplicable flash of green in his pupils.
"Steady there," Bane said calmly. He held up both open hands. "Let's get things straight first. You are the guy who found the Cat's-Claw, right?"
In an instant, Levon's body swelled and erupted outward, growing and changing into a humanoid form like a great cat standing on its hind legs. His head became that of a Black Lion with lambent green eyes, the glossy hide shone in the light. Deep in that chest, a growl rumbled. Still walking upright, he took a menacing step forward.
Unexpectedly, Ashley Whitaker's voice rang out clearly, "With this horn I remove thy power!" A dull thump sounded in the air and both she and the lion man fell backwards to hit the carpeting hard. Still holding her horn in both hands, the Unicorn landed in a sitting position with a gasp. The Black Lion shuddered and reverted to normal, his clothes returning. He was kneeling, hands on the rug but unable to rise.
The man who called himself Megistus dropped down to seize Levon with an arm across the younger man's chest. In his right hand was a small pearl-handled .22 revolver and he pressed its muzzle to Levon's cheek. "Dire Wolf! Don't move! I'll kill him. And you know that means I can claim Cat's-Claw for myself."
Bane made no move but he said, "Well, son, I guess you can see this man's not your friend."
"No, Megistus, let me go..." Levon gasped but he dared not struggle. Having a gun barrel touching his face was more terrifying than anything he had ever expected.
"Megistus? He's not Megistus." The Dire Wolf slowly raised one hand to point at the older black man. "We've dealt with this trick before. The real Megistus is a shrivelled little dwarf a hundred years old. He has a stooge pose as him while he stays safe."
The man laughed. "To serve the Master is a great honor, fool! Yes, I am Washombe of Danarak and by blood alone I have a better right to Wakimbe's Claw than this American pup."
Bane crossed his arms in front of him. Those who had fought him before would know that this pose placed his hands within grasp of the silver-bladed daggers sheathed under his sleeves. But few had faced him doing this and lived to tell. "Forget it, Washombe. You're not walking out of here with that talisman. Killing that kid won't do you any good."
"Yeah, yeah, killing me won't help," Levon said desperately. "Look. Let me up-"
At this moment, Unicorn managed to get to her feet. "That never happened before," she complained, "I feel kinda woozy." She immediately fell down again, catching herself so as not to hit her head.
Desite himself, Washombe was watching her for the barest instant and in that moment he was lost. Silver glittered in the air and a slim throwing dagger sliced to its hilt in the back of the Danarakan's hand, pinning itself deep in his chest. Forced open, that hand dropped the revolver to the floor. Washombe yelled at the unexpected agony, but he could not move. Levon Bingham wrestled free and scuttled back out of reach.
Bane approached, kicking the gun far to one side as he bent over the African. "That doesn't look good," he annnounced unemotionally. "Yeah, there he goes." As Unicorn and Levon watched, the Dire Wolf tugged his dagger free and cleaned its blade on Washombe's shirt. He returned the weapon to its sheath and glanced up. "Nicked the heart. I was concentrating on keeping him from squeezing the trigger, the angle was unlucky for him."
Getting up, Levon found his knees were too weak to hold him up and he fell back into the chair where he had been sitting a few minutes ago. "You killed him! But.. I guess you saved my life doing it, mister."
"My name is Bane," the Dire Wolf said as he took Unicorn's arm and assisted her into the other easy chair. "You two are both still stunned by the feedback when your two talismans clashed. You okay, Ashley?"
"Yeah, I'm better. Whew. That was like getting an electric shock." She looked over at the young black man staring at the two of them. "Hey. You've been through a lot in a few minutes. Better take some deep breaths."
Levon in fact found he had been almost panting in shock over what had happened. "I... I don't know what to think. Give me some answers! Give me something to work with."
Standing over the corpse, Bane said, "Very simply then. You found an ancient talisman with genuine magick powers. You've already started to tap its powers. That lion-man shape you took a few minutes before is just the tip of the iceberg."
"Okay. Okay, I can accept that. It's so whack but I can deal with it. Who does this thing really belong to?"
"It's yours now," the Dire Wolf told him. "Talismans like that bond to a proper host. That's why Ashombe here was going to have to kill you to claim it."
"All right, all right. And who are you two?"
"We deal with things like your Cat's-Claw and other, worse menaces. I'm Jeremy Bane, and this is my new partner, Ashley Whitaker. Your name is..?"
"Levon. Levon Bingham, born and raised in New York City." He struggled to his feet. "Goddamn, I have to get out of here. Look! There's a dead man on the floor right there, I don't wanna go to jail..."
"Steady," Bane said. "You're not going to be arrested. We're going to leave together, down the stairs and out a side door. We have ways to disable the alarm when we use an exit door. The real Megistus will have to clean up his henchman here. That's his problem."
Unicorn came over next to Levon and raised a thumb at him in an encouraging gesture. "Come on, Levon, trust your instincts. Come with my captain and me, we'll explain everything. Who knows, maybe you'll want to stick with us." She flashed her dazzling grin over at Bane. "I think our team could use a new member, right?"
Bane did not smile in return, but his tone softened almost imperceptibly. "Ah, Ashley. My friend Kwali wore that Cat's-Claw for six years. He was a good man. But he would have wanted it to pass to a worthy hand. Maybe Levon is that heir."
Clapping a hand to Levon's shoulder and squeezing, Unicorn smiled, "Only one way to find out."
8/30/2015
2/4-2/7/2000
I.
Lauren Sable Reilly pulled aside the heavy curtains and gazed unhappily out at East 38th Street. Tiny snow crystals swirled visibly, and she felt sure the wind chill would be near zero. She was already wearing boots, heavy sweat pants and dark red sweater with a rolled collar, and it was cozy in the KDF headquarters. The prospect of going outside did not fill her with eagerness.
At only twenty-two, Sable conducted herself so seriously that people treated her as if she were considerably older. Five inches over five feet in height and slim, she had glossy black hair brushed straight back from a high forehead. Sable's mixed parentage showed in her huge dark eyes, snub nose and full lips but she was remarkably unaware of how attractive she was, even without make-up as usual. It just was not something she gave any thought to. Frowning as she let the curtain fall, Sable took her down-filled coat off one of the wall hooks and tugged it on dutifully.
Hearing light footsteps trotting down the staircase, she glanced up and smiled despite herself. Unicorn! All in white as usual, almost skipping gleefully down the steps into the front hall with eagerness all over her perfect little face. Not quite twenty, she was the youngest member of the new KDF team and the most zealous. Ashley Whitaker was just over five feet tall and just under a hundred pounds. With her pale skin, light blue eyes and platinum blond hair, her all-white suit made her look like some sort of snow elf. Under one arm, she held a visored helmet.
"Hey, Sable!" she called out as she hopped down the final three steps with both feet together. "Ready to go? Let's solve this mystery, what do you say?"
"Where's your talisman?" Sable asked.
"Right here, of course," Ashley answered, swinging around a three-foot leather cylinder she had strapped to her back. "As if I would charge out into excitement without my horn."
Sable raised one eyebrow. "And you are wearing the Trom armor under that field suit? All the specified weapons?"
"You bet. It's FREEZING out, girlfriend! Once I seal this helmet, though, I'll be comfy as if I were wrapped in a blanket in a ski lodge sipping hot chocolate."
"Ashley, I love your enthusiasm. I wish I shared it."
"Hey, I was raised to be the second Unicorn. My mom had me running around adjacent realms when I was just out of diapers." Ashley grinned with self-assurance that had never been seriously tested. "I've been looking forward to this since I could walk. What are we waiting for?"
"Argent." Sable pulled on leather gloves and tugged a knit wool cap down over her head. "We don't have much to go on, you know. Three different people reported seeing a big cat on Tenth Avenue the night before last. A lion with a black hide, running across the street and leaping over a fence. That's all we know."
"A black lion...." Ashley mumbled. "You know, I wonder if maybe.. you know about the Black Lion of Danarak? The Cat's-Claw?"
"Sure. Kwali was a KDF member, I've read his file. He died ten years ago in the Final Halloween." Sable studied Ashley's face thoughtfully. "So we're wondering the same thing."
"That someone found the Cat's Claw?" Ashley asked. "Yeah, it's a thought. I guess two smart girls reach the same conclusion!"
Coming down the stairs, Sheng Mo-Yuan greeted them with a raised hand. Only of medium height but wide and strongly built, Sheng seemed at first to be a Northern Chinese but he was not. The hawklike nose and high cheekbones indicated to those who knew the Midnight War that he was actually from the realm of Chujir. Known as Argent, Sheng could channel gralic force into his body to enhance his speed or strength or resilience greatly, but only using one effect at a time.
As he reached the bottom of the steps, Argent finished buttoning his long cloth coat. He was already wearing wool gloves and a knit cap much like Sable's. "All set," he announced. "Where's everyone else?"
"Megan and Josef are at Tel Shai," Sable said. "Our captain was investigating something upstate. The three of us will investigate these lion sightings first and see what we can turn up."
"Fine, suits me," Sheng told her. "I haven't left the building in two days, I'm getting itchy."
Sable led her partners down the concealed steps to the basement, where they went along the narrow walkway between the vault and the arsenal to a rough wooden door. Beyond that was the underground garage just large to squeeze two cars in. Only the dark green Ford Mustang was there at the moment, their captain had the taken the other car. Argent reached for one of the sets of keys hanging on hooks inside the door, but Unicorn beat him to it.
"Not on your life," she laughed. "You don't have your license yet. Every time you try to drive, the city is in danger. Forget it." She unslung the unicorn horn and placed it carefully in the back seat before sliding behind the wheel. Sable went around to the front passenger seat, leaving Sheng to grudgingly get in the back.
"This is no way to get experience," he mumbled to himself, then settled down. Unicorn drove up the wide concrete ramp with its sharp turn at the top. The steel barrier rose automatically, letting them out in an alley that opened on Lexington Avenue.
"Now for some lion hunting," chuckled Ashley but when she glanced over, the somber look on Sable's face chastised her.
II.
Waking up groggily, Levon raised his head and tried to focus. The wall clock said nine-thirty. He had napped for just under two hours. Sitting up on the ancient couch which smelled of decades of cigarette smoke and spilled food, he sat and rubbed his face and smacked his lips. The desparate situation came back to him.
Levon Bingham was a young black man with thoughtful eyes in a wide face, very dark skin, and hair cropped near to being shaven. At twenty-two, he was a few inches under six feet tall and scrawny. Levon had slept in the baggy jeans and maroon sweatshirt he had been wearing when he had come back to his grandmother's apartment at dawn. Yawning, he got to his feet and listened. From his grandmother's bedroom came the deep rattling snore he knew so well. His parents had never been there for him, Gramma was his only anchor.
Walking over to peer hopefully into the refrigerator, he surveyed slim pickings. Well, he didn't want to wake Gramma up by scrambling some eggs, so he put down a paper towel, got two slices of rye bread, two pieces of boiled ham and one of cheese. Without mustard or butter, he chewed slowly on the sandwich and tried not to think about his big problem.
A warm spot on his chest grew almost painful. Under his sweatshirt, suspended by a fine chain around his neck, a six-inch-long black talon burned against his skin. He felt comforted by its heat, the strength it seemed to give him. There was no decision to make. He would never give the Cat's Claw up.
Using the bathroom, Levon scrubbed his hands and face with steaming hot water and dried them vigorously. Then the ancient talisman on his chest flared up painfully, making him gasp. It was warning him. The young man straightened up and crept across the three room apartment to peek out the window down at Tenth Avenue.
There they were! Three big men wrapped in heavy overcoats with collars up and wide-brimmed hats. White men, with expressionless faces. They were talking to each other about something, and he saw one of them turned a pale face up toward his window. That face looked stiff and lifeless. The Cold Ones. Without thinking, Levon spun and hurried across the apartment with its clutter of clothing piled on chairs and old newspapers in a loose stack on the floor. He did not want to wake his grandmother.
Out in the hallway, down the narrow stairs with its loose banister, Levon rushed to the first floor. Through the glass panel in the door, he could see the Cold Ones looming up. He did not want to face them here. To his right, the door to the basement was ajar.
Just as the Cold Ones entered the foyer, Levon headed down to the cellar stairs and left the door wide open behind them. He knew they would glimpse him. The cellar held two big washing machines and dryers, random bicycles and broken furniture and general debris but it did offer an open space big enough for his purposes.
Standing facing the stairs, Levon Bingham had just enough time to realize he wasn't exactly afraid... he was excited. He was enjoying this somehow. This made no sense, but he was so caught up with his heart racing and his head almost spinning that he couldn't think about it.
The three strange men came slowly down the stairs. They moved stiffly and awkwardly, almost like the elderly being careful where each foot was placed. The one in front lifted his head. That face was pale and rigid, its skin dry as parchment and the eyes were horribly solid white with no pupils. They were rolled up into the sockets.
Surprising even himself, Levon laughed almost inaudibly.
The Cold One held out a withered hand, palm up. "Give us the Claw," said a hollow voice.
"Come and take it!" Levon answered. As the Cold Ones lurched forward, raising their open hands, he stepped forward to meet them. His hands suddenly swelled up twice their normal size, melting and changing in an instant, vicious curved claws coming out. He rushed at the killers with two lion paws on the ends of his arms.
III.
The wind never stopped completely. Dry powdery snow was blown restlessly about, covering where all the sidewalks that had been swept. On Tenth Avenue in the lower 40s, the three new KDF members stood huddled closely together. There was minimal traffic and almost no one walking about. On a day like this, the usual crowds thinned to only those who had no choice.
Unicorn had her helmet on with the visor down, and her voice came clearly through the grille in the jawbar. "You guys oughtta wear the field suits on a day like this," she chirped. "I'm snug and toasty."
"Thanks, Ashley," Sable snapped a little too sharply. She was staring at the intersection where the black lion had been reported. Her gift was that she could enhance her senses with gralic force far beyond what doctors would say was possible. It was not combat oriented, but her power was often the most useful of all of them in investigation.
But today her abilities were failing her. "This is hopeless," she announced after a few minutes. "This thin layer of fresh snow covers up any clues I might have been able to spot. There's only one thing I see." She touched the side of a aged brick building with a gloved finger. "This."
As she took a small plastic envelope from a pocket and placed something within it, Argent said, "What are you talking about? I don't see anything!"
"Three hairs," Sable told him. "Black, thick. Not Human at all. They look like cat hairs to me but not quite. I want to have them analyzed."
"Oh, I get it. And they were stuck in a rough spot on the wall! That's where the pussycat rubbed as he was running around the neighborhood." Ashley Whitaker leaned close to where the hairs had been. "You've got miscropic vision, Lauren. The first time I watched you identify fingerprints on a car door that I couldn't even see, I was impressed."
"There's something more," Sable said. "My sense of smell is turned way up. Even with the wind, a spoor lingers. I recognize it from when I went to the Bronx Zoo as a kid. It's a lion, all right."
Sheng Mo-Yuan glanced around the area a little apprehensively. "So... there really has been a lion here? I thought there would be some other explanation."
"Smells like lion to me," she answered. "But with the wind and the snow, I can't follow the scent. Too bad. On a calm day, I think I could track the beast down." She tucked the envelope away, and turned to face her teammates. "Back to headquarters. At least now we know there is something weird going on. When Jeremy returns, we can see what he thinks."
Heading back to where they had parked the Mustang, they were silent for a few minutes. Then, as Sable got behind the wheel, she said, "No one knows what happened to the Cat's-Claw."
Argent dropped onto the back seat. "What exactly is that thing anyway? I know it's a talisman of some kind."
Sable used the wipers to clear the fluffy snow from the windshield. "It's a major talisman. From the Corruption thousands of years ago. The Cat's-Claw gives its bearer a number of attributes but most important is the ability to assume the form of the Daranakan god, the Black Lion."
"And Kwali was from Danarak," Unicorn chimed in. "I met him once but I was just little and I don't remember much. He died in the Final Halloween, in Necropolis. The Cat's-Claw was missing when the KDF recovered his body and nobody knows what happened to it." The tiny blonde slid up the visor of her helmet and turned around in her seat to smile at Argent behind her. "Until now, I guess."
Back on 38th Street, they returned to the small garage beneath the headquarters building and found the Subaru Outback in its spot. "Looks like our captain is back," Sable said. She got out of the car, hung the keys back up and started for the door. "Let's report."
They made their way along the narrow walkway, past the Vault and the arsenal, past the water tank and Trom power generator, until they were going up concrete steps to emerge through a panel in the back of the walk-in closet. The three of them emerged into the front hall. Glad to be inside again, Sable hung up her coat with the gloves and hat tucked into its pockets. Beside her, Unicorn lifted off her helmet and placed it on top of a cabinet.
"Where do you think he is?" she asked, unzipping the front of her field jacket.
"Probably up in the conference room, moping around." Argent had carelessly tossed his own coat on a hook and was already hurrying up the staircase. "Let's tell him what's up."
On the second floor, much of the conference room was taken up by the long oak table with its twelve chairs. At the head sat their captain, the leader of their team of Tel Shai knight. Jeremy Bane glanced up at the three entering the room with the usual cool appraisal in his pale eyes but he smiled very faintly. "Good timing, you guys," he said. "I just returned myself. Have you heard about what happened on Tenth Avenue last night?"
"No," Sable answered with a little surprise as she took a seat. "We just came from there."
Bane nodded. "The police contacted me, through Inspector Klein of course. Whenever anything weird or gruesome happens, they bring us in off the record. Three bodies were found in the basement of an apartment building on Tenth and 44th. They had been ripped up thoroughly. Autopsies are scheduled for today, but the Medical Examiner's unofficial reaction was that they had been savaged by wild animals."
"Like a lion, maybe perhaps? I'm just SAYING," Unicorn put in.
"We're all thinking the same thing." The Dire Wolf frowned and went on, "I wanted Sable to be there for the autopsies. With your vision powers, you'd see clues they wouldn't. But the Medical Examiner won't allow it. He doesn't trust the new team the way he used to let us old-timers break all the rules."
"Luckily you guys have ME on the team," Ashley continued. "With my horn, I can just neutralize this Claw thing and the danger is over."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that. Wakimbe's Claw is very old and potent. It might be too strong for your Alicorn to affect, Ashley."
"We'll see," she replied in a sing-song voice and settled back with a smug grin.
Bane frowned at her. "I suppose there are some mundane possibilities that could explain this. I doubt they're true but we should mention them. One, that some wealthy fool bought a lion cub as a pet and it has escaped now that it has reached full growth. Or that such an animal had escaped from a zoo or circus or something." The Dire Wolf shrugged. His long, somber face showed complete disbelief. "Such things have happened, of course. But I think we can discount them in this case."
"How can you expect us to believe a lion cub escaped? That's silly," Sheng scoffed. "I'm sure the police are already looking into any remote chance that those events could have happened."
Bane never reacted to Sheng's insolence. "No, this is Midnight War. I'm sure of it. The Cat's-Claw has been found."
"And so close to our headquarters?" asked Sable. "Coincidence?"
"I doubt it," Bane said. "Talismans like that seem to make their way from one temporary owner to another until they get where they want to be. I've seen it many times."
"Right now, someone has the Cat's-Claw and they seem to be able to use it," Sable said. "We have to act fast. Right in Manhattan, someone can turn into a gigantic lion and run amok."
"It's worse than that," the Dire Wolf told them. "The Black Lion is not a natural animal. It's a gralic construct charged with almost unlimited force. I've seen it in action. Bullets won't even annoy it, it can tear a Greyhound bus apart if it wants to. Kwali was a disciplined, highly-trained hero and even he had trouble controlling it sometimes. Everyone in this city is in imminent danger." He got to his feet. "We're going to start searching the area. Same three-man teams we used already. I want everyone in their field suits, fully armed. Let's move."
IV.
Levon was surprised to glance up at a corner and found he had reached 70th Street. How long had he been walking? He hadn't been aware of it. The young man looked around him, half expecting horrified stares from everyone but people just passed by without noticing. His hands felt numb from the cold and he shoved them in his pants pockets. He needed to get inside.
Across the street was a deli, and Levon crossed over to go inside. The interior was warm and damp, crowded, filled with tempting smells. He had two hundred dollars in his pocket and nothing else in the world. Maybe he should go back to his grandma's apartment to get some clothes but he was afraid to be seen there. It was so hard to think about what to do. Whether he realized it or not, what had happened in that basement had left him in shock. Digging in his pocket, he got a few singles out and bought a bag of Nachos and a can of root beer. Standing by the window looking out on Tenth Avenue, he ate the chips slowly and turned the situation over and over in his mind without getting anywhere.
Someone was touching him, gripping his shoulder and squeezing. Levon turned his head numbly and saw a very impressive black man, well over six feet tall and wearing a tailored suit with a beige topcoat. The man had skin as dark as Levon's, short-cropped hair and a face handsome enough to pose for magazine ads. The teeth showing in that friendly smile gleamed flawlessly.
"Son," said the man. "We need to talk."
"We do? Really? I don't know you." Levon drew back and broke contact.
"My name is Megistus. I am an authority on the supernatural and the occult. I can tell you are wearing an ancient talisman around your neck."
"Leave me alone, mister," snapped Levon but without conviction. There was something about this man's self-assurance that held his attention. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The man tapped a manicured finger to Levon's chest. "Ah. The Claw of Wakimbe. I knew it would turn up eventually. You are in great danger, young man. What is your name?"
"Levon, Levon Bingham. But I don't know how it's your business." Despite his natural wariness, he was curious how this man knew so much. "Claw of... Wakimbe?"
"Ah, you do not trust me yet," Megistus said. There was the faintest accent in his voice. "Listen. The claw is seven inches long, curved and ending in a needle sharp point. It hangs from a fine chain of what will seem to be silver to you." Seeing the fascination in Levon's voice, the older man continued, "And when you are in danger, the Cat's-Claw will grow warm against your skin. Am I right?"
Levon finished his root beer and decided he had to learn more. "You said your name was Megistus? Are you a brother from here? West Coast? Where are you from?"
"I am actually African. Come with me. We will have lunch at a restaurant just down the street and I will explain the situation." He gestured toward the door. "Do you like Italian food?"
"I could stand a meal right now," Levon admitted. "But I'm not agreeing to anything. I just say I'll listen to your pitch. That's it."
"That is all I ask." Megistus held the deli door open and frigid air from outside rushed in.
V.
As they hurried along deserted dark streets, Argent paused at the corner of Tenth Avenue and 48th Street. "I should have gone to that hotel after the Cat's-Claw. Let our captain handle these underlings with you."
Sable shook her helmeted head. They were speaking through the communications links and anyone nearby would not have heard them. "Jeremy knows what he's doing."
"Pah! He has speed. I have speed AND strength AND durability. It should be my place at the head of this team whenever there's action. Come on, Sable, surely you can see that!"
She made a scoffing noise. "Honestly, our captain is more patient with you than I would be. If you keep trying to challenge his authority, he might decide to take you down a notch. You didn't do too well sparring with him on our first day."
"I was taking it easy on my elders!" Sheng laughed. "Wait and see. I'll prove I'm the natural leader on his team. Jeremy can be our senior adviser."
Lauren Sable Reilly opened the visor to her helmet, wincing as the warm air inside rushed out to be replaced by chill but she had to use her enhanced senses. Concentrating on smell, she blocked out the usual gasoline fumes and urine from doorways and rotting food in a dented aluminum garbage can at the curb. It took effort. After a moment, she picked up what she was seeking, a strange combination of spicy and the sweet sickliness of dead flesh. The mixture was something unknown to her.
"I've got it," she told her partner. "Very close. I wonder if... this could be the scent of zombies? Death and yet something else. Jeremy said we should investigate cautiously. The bodies found in that basement had all the signs of having been dead thirty-six to forty-eight hours but someone in the building swears having seen them walk in the front door this morning. Unless they were already Undead...!"
"Stop, are you TRYING to give me the creeps? Back in Chujir, we know the dead can leave their graves if they were wronged in life so badly it keeps them from resting. But I haven't seen a zombie and am not exactly eager to start." Sheng clapped his hands together. "But anyway. You're the tracker and bloodhound of the team, Lauren. Lead on!"
"We're right next to the smell. That building there with the pizza joint on the first floor. One of the apartments above." She slid the visor down and her field suit automatically brought the air inside to a comfortable temperature. Sable adjusted her anesthetic dart in its holster at the small of her back, then frowned. Against zombies? Catching Argent's eye, she said, "If there's fighting, that's your area of expertise. Okay?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Sheng Mo-Yuan chuckled. "Let's see the best way to get into that den of Undead." The pizza place was open, its big glass front fogged by the warmth within. Written in red script on the window was GENUINE SICILIAN PIZZA - SPAGHETTI- SANDWICHES - BEER AND WINE, with a phone number. He could see two men in white pants and shirts working the ovens, but there was only one customer sitting at a table. Going around to the side of a building, the Chujiran pressed his hand against a narrow door with a small plate that said 189 TENTH on it. It was unlocked.
As he turned the doorknob, Argent glanced back. He found Sable examining a gleaming black Lincoln sedan that sat at the curb. "What?"
"The smell is really potent around this car," she answered. "I think a normal person could detect it. It's from something dead of course, but also something... medicinal. Like a smell you'd find in a hospital." Sable came over to join him. "Remember the plate number, Sheng. UYY-2188."
"Sure." The Chujiran held the door open behind him as he stepped into a narrow foyer with stairs going up. To their right was a bank of small metal mailboxes and a wastepaper bin. On the left was a closed door and Sable sniffed once.
"That's a janitor's closet," she said. "Damp mop, Pine-Sol. Bags of rock salt." The young woman turned her face toward the stairs and tapped Argent on the shoulder. "One of them is coming down. They know we're here!"
"Good," answered Argent. As a tall thin form showed at the landing above them, the Chujiran shifted his gralic focus to speed. Quicker than any athlete, he hurdled up taking two of the steps at a time and crashed headlong into the Cold One. They slammed up against the wall behind the zombie and Sheng smashed three rapid-fire punches that rocked the pale face from side to side. As the Cold One staggered, Sheng put his gralic force into strength and drove his fist to the zombie's chest to break the sternum with a brittle snapping noise. He flung the undead thing aside.
Following him up the staircase, Sable probed the area with her hearing enhanced. Through her helmet link, she whispered to her partner. "Four more of them in the room to your left. And two living Humans. One much smaller, dragging a foot."
"Got it," Sheng answered and rushed over to yank the door open. Standing just inside were two more of the Cold Ones. He tackled them headlong, slamming them up with another zombie who had been approaching. The three Undead went down in a clumsy tangle of arms and legs. Argent was still using increased strength. He seized a Cold One by the head and twisted it completely around, then knelt to thump his elbow into the face of another. These were not mere zombies, he realized, but more like Humans who were still barely alive and kept functioning by some means. Maybe the chemical that Sable detected, he wondered. But another one was coming up behind him.
In the doorway, Lauren Sable Reilly hesitated. She did not have much Kumundu training, not enough to count on in a real fight. The anesthetic dart gun would probably not be effective against these creatures. The other gadgets and devices concealed in her field suit like the miniature smoke bombs or resonance grenades would confuse Sheng as much as the enemy. All these thoughts took less than a second. She drew the eight-inch survival knife sheathed to her left thigh just as a Cold One lunged at her. The zombie impaled itself directly on that blade as she extended her arm to meet the attack and, as he fell, the knife was wrenched from her grasp.
Behind her, a crash echoed as a Cold One hit the wall so hard it bounced forward and fell straight down. Sheng Mo-Yuan lowered his leg from that straight side kick, whirled around and saw no further attackers. He exhaled sharply and stood up. "Lauren? How are you?"
"I'm good," she answered, tugging the knife out of the Cold One. There was no blood on it, only a thin clear ooze she wiped off on the dead thing's shirt. "These aren't just zombies. I don't know, they seem almost alive instead of reanimated dead."
Argent was looking around at the shabby apartment. The couch and coffee table and two chairs had all been pushed back against one wall for one reason. There was no TV, no newspapers or magazines and bits of clothing scattered about. The apartment seemed almost vacant. A bathroom door was fully open and another door evidently showed where the bedroom was. "Say. Weren't there supposed to be some live ones here?"
Leaping over to the grimy window that overlooked Tenth Avenue, Sable was just in time to see the black Lincoln ease away from the curb. From the rear seat, a withered small face glared up venomously at her... a face so old, with its hooked nose and chin almost meeting, that comparisons with a vulture seemed inescaple. She only caught a glimpse of that hate-filled face before the car sped away.
"Megistus," she breathed. That was not a face one could easily forget. She turned back to start yanking Argent toward the door. "Sheng, that was Megistus! An Alchemist a hundred years old. We have to join Jeremy and Ashley right away."
"Well, we certainly seem to be done here," Argent said with a shrug as he stepped over the remains of a Cold One.
VI.
As Bane went through the lobby of Hampton House, he unfastened his helmet and lifted it off. Right behind him, trotting to keep up with his quick stride, Unicorn did the same. Her platinum hair was tied in a tight ponytail that bobbed as she walked. The clerk at the desk opened his mouth but shut it again without daring to speak. Something about the Dire Wolf's grim face and purposeful actions discouraged the clerk. The elevator slid open as the two Tel Shai knights approached and they got in without hesitation. Bane punched the button for the penthouse and lowered his helmet back on but left the visor up.
Strapping her own helmet back on, Ashley asked, "Boy! Do you realize the way you intimidate people?" She adjusted the strap across her chest so that she could reach the unicorn horn more easily, tightening the buckle.
"I count on it," Bane answered. As the elevator door opened, they stepped out into a luxurious corridor with subdued lighting and dark wood walls. The windows were curtained, the air was warm and clean-smelling, and a big man in a suit and tie turned to face them as he heard the door chime open.
"This is a private suite, sir-" was as far as he got before a hard tight fist drove into his diaphragm with blurring speed. The air left his lungs with a gush and he sagged to his knees as Bane caught him by the shirtfront. The Dire Wolf glared up and down the hallway but saw no one else. While the guard was struggling to catch his breath, Bane dragged him over to where a chair sat against the wall and dropped him into it.
"Yikes," said Ashley. "I was watching you and I still didn't see that."
Bane reached in his field jacket, took out a magazine of the anesthetic darts and ejected one. He jabbed its point into the side of the guard's neck, counted to three and released the man just as the snoring started. "He's out of the way for the next forty minutes or so. And when he does wake up, he won't feel that great for a while."
"Captain, I have to ask. How did you know he was a bad guy? All he did was tell us this floor is private."
"Look at at the way his jacket hangs on this side. See, he's got a 45 holstered under it." Bane tugged the man's jacket aside, took the gun out and pocketed it himself. "I could tell by his body language he was armed, his balance was off. After you get some more Kumundu training, you'll see it too."
"Seems like I have more to learn than I realized," the Unicorn admitted. She pointed at the door next to the chair in which the drugged man was slumped. "I guess we don't knock and wait to be let in?"
Bane answered by stepping close to the door. "You'll learn this, too." He put one foot behind the other, twisted from the waist and slapped the heel of his hand just above the doorknob. The lock snapped audibly and the door slammed inward so hard that they could hear a painting fell off the wall inside with breaking glass. Even as the door crashed open, the Dire Wolf was inside the suite and wheeling around to face any attack.
Across the plush-carpeted main room, two black men had jumped up from comfortable chairs at the sudden intrusion. The older was tall and well dressed, and he dropped a coffee cup to the floor without realizing. The younger one sprang out of his chair and dropped into a crouch that had an unmistakably feline air to it.
"There they are, Levon!" cried the older man. "I told you that the enemy would send his assassins for you. Be careful!"
"I'm not the one who needs to careful," Levon Bingham answered harshly. He swung toward the two intruders and there was an inexplicable flash of green in his pupils.
"Steady there," Bane said calmly. He held up both open hands. "Let's get things straight first. You are the guy who found the Cat's-Claw, right?"
In an instant, Levon's body swelled and erupted outward, growing and changing into a humanoid form like a great cat standing on its hind legs. His head became that of a Black Lion with lambent green eyes, the glossy hide shone in the light. Deep in that chest, a growl rumbled. Still walking upright, he took a menacing step forward.
Unexpectedly, Ashley Whitaker's voice rang out clearly, "With this horn I remove thy power!" A dull thump sounded in the air and both she and the lion man fell backwards to hit the carpeting hard. Still holding her horn in both hands, the Unicorn landed in a sitting position with a gasp. The Black Lion shuddered and reverted to normal, his clothes returning. He was kneeling, hands on the rug but unable to rise.
The man who called himself Megistus dropped down to seize Levon with an arm across the younger man's chest. In his right hand was a small pearl-handled .22 revolver and he pressed its muzzle to Levon's cheek. "Dire Wolf! Don't move! I'll kill him. And you know that means I can claim Cat's-Claw for myself."
Bane made no move but he said, "Well, son, I guess you can see this man's not your friend."
"No, Megistus, let me go..." Levon gasped but he dared not struggle. Having a gun barrel touching his face was more terrifying than anything he had ever expected.
"Megistus? He's not Megistus." The Dire Wolf slowly raised one hand to point at the older black man. "We've dealt with this trick before. The real Megistus is a shrivelled little dwarf a hundred years old. He has a stooge pose as him while he stays safe."
The man laughed. "To serve the Master is a great honor, fool! Yes, I am Washombe of Danarak and by blood alone I have a better right to Wakimbe's Claw than this American pup."
Bane crossed his arms in front of him. Those who had fought him before would know that this pose placed his hands within grasp of the silver-bladed daggers sheathed under his sleeves. But few had faced him doing this and lived to tell. "Forget it, Washombe. You're not walking out of here with that talisman. Killing that kid won't do you any good."
"Yeah, yeah, killing me won't help," Levon said desperately. "Look. Let me up-"
At this moment, Unicorn managed to get to her feet. "That never happened before," she complained, "I feel kinda woozy." She immediately fell down again, catching herself so as not to hit her head.
Desite himself, Washombe was watching her for the barest instant and in that moment he was lost. Silver glittered in the air and a slim throwing dagger sliced to its hilt in the back of the Danarakan's hand, pinning itself deep in his chest. Forced open, that hand dropped the revolver to the floor. Washombe yelled at the unexpected agony, but he could not move. Levon Bingham wrestled free and scuttled back out of reach.
Bane approached, kicking the gun far to one side as he bent over the African. "That doesn't look good," he annnounced unemotionally. "Yeah, there he goes." As Unicorn and Levon watched, the Dire Wolf tugged his dagger free and cleaned its blade on Washombe's shirt. He returned the weapon to its sheath and glanced up. "Nicked the heart. I was concentrating on keeping him from squeezing the trigger, the angle was unlucky for him."
Getting up, Levon found his knees were too weak to hold him up and he fell back into the chair where he had been sitting a few minutes ago. "You killed him! But.. I guess you saved my life doing it, mister."
"My name is Bane," the Dire Wolf said as he took Unicorn's arm and assisted her into the other easy chair. "You two are both still stunned by the feedback when your two talismans clashed. You okay, Ashley?"
"Yeah, I'm better. Whew. That was like getting an electric shock." She looked over at the young black man staring at the two of them. "Hey. You've been through a lot in a few minutes. Better take some deep breaths."
Levon in fact found he had been almost panting in shock over what had happened. "I... I don't know what to think. Give me some answers! Give me something to work with."
Standing over the corpse, Bane said, "Very simply then. You found an ancient talisman with genuine magick powers. You've already started to tap its powers. That lion-man shape you took a few minutes before is just the tip of the iceberg."
"Okay. Okay, I can accept that. It's so whack but I can deal with it. Who does this thing really belong to?"
"It's yours now," the Dire Wolf told him. "Talismans like that bond to a proper host. That's why Ashombe here was going to have to kill you to claim it."
"All right, all right. And who are you two?"
"We deal with things like your Cat's-Claw and other, worse menaces. I'm Jeremy Bane, and this is my new partner, Ashley Whitaker. Your name is..?"
"Levon. Levon Bingham, born and raised in New York City." He struggled to his feet. "Goddamn, I have to get out of here. Look! There's a dead man on the floor right there, I don't wanna go to jail..."
"Steady," Bane said. "You're not going to be arrested. We're going to leave together, down the stairs and out a side door. We have ways to disable the alarm when we use an exit door. The real Megistus will have to clean up his henchman here. That's his problem."
Unicorn came over next to Levon and raised a thumb at him in an encouraging gesture. "Come on, Levon, trust your instincts. Come with my captain and me, we'll explain everything. Who knows, maybe you'll want to stick with us." She flashed her dazzling grin over at Bane. "I think our team could use a new member, right?"
Bane did not smile in return, but his tone softened almost imperceptibly. "Ah, Ashley. My friend Kwali wore that Cat's-Claw for six years. He was a good man. But he would have wanted it to pass to a worthy hand. Maybe Levon is that heir."
Clapping a hand to Levon's shoulder and squeezing, Unicorn smiled, "Only one way to find out."
8/30/2015
