Days Gone Bad (16 page)

“Like I said, the dogs.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I left Frank to run the shop. He was wincing and holding an icepack on his head when I left to make my run back to West County Mall. I parked in the garage and pulled the tux out of the car. I was pretty sure someone was neglecting their maintenance duties when the automatic door squealed like a fork on a dinner plate. My jaw clenched at the sound as I walked in across from the food court. The mall was pretty dead considering it should have been the dinner rush. Speaking of dinner, the smell of fresh pretzels hit me two seconds later. I gagged, hogtied, and stuffed my willpower into a little box in the back of my brain before stopping at Auntie Anne’s for a jalapeno pretzel dog and a cinnamon sugar pretzel chaser. Mountain Dew and pretzels in hand, I wandered down to the tuxedo shop.

I could see Bobby, the Lord of Tuxes, working diligently behind the counter. Ah, sweet karma.

“Hey, Bobby!” I said in my most cheerful, ballpark voice as I waved my pretzels at him.

His head sagged and he slowly pushed himself off the stool. “No food or drink in the store.”

I shrugged and walked in anyway. “Hey, I’ve got tux insurance, what do I care?”

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered.

I handed him the garment bag with my tux in it. He scanned it in, hung it on the rack behind him, and turned to print out the receipts. I smiled, signed my name, and waited, taking a huge bite of jalapeno pretzel dog. He folded the credit card receipt, stuffed the white copy into the register’s drawer, and handed me the yellow copy. Then he turned to open the bag with the tux in it.

The buzz of the zipper was followed by a gasp. The gasp was followed by “Oh my
god!”
Bobby rooted through the bag and pulled out the baggie of cufflinks and those little black studs.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’re all there.”

“Oh my
god!”
He shook his head like a pit bull had a hold of it. “You’re going to have to pay for these damages. This is,” his eyes flicked back to the tux and then back to me, “this is
horrible.”

“No, no, no, Bobby,” I said with a smile. I waved my finger at him. “I bought the most expensive tux insurance you offered. The insurance you were
so
insistent I needed because it covered
any
damages … and look! You were right, Bobby!” I slapped the counter and grinned. I held up the little yellow slip. “Besides, I already have my receipt and you, as I can see on your screen here, already checked the tux back in. You have a good day now.”

He groaned, cursed, and put his head down on the counter as I walked out.

“Jackass,” I said under my breath. I smiled and took another bite as I headed back to the parking garage.

***

The first thing I did was share the tale of the Lord of Tuxes with Frank and Foster. As soon as Foster disappeared into the clock with a laugh, I cut the twine on the little box behind the counter. I unfolded the top of the plain cardboard box and opened the flaps. The musty smell of aged paper climbed into the air around us as I removed the oblong packet of black tissue.

I peeled back the edges of the dark paper to reveal a naked dagger. Plain, simple, uninteresting; except for the fact a vampire had given it to me and Foster said it was something from the dark. I balanced the dagger on the box and Frank leaned in to get a closer look. The pommel was oval-shaped with a faint pentagram etched into either side, closed in a thin double circle. The symbols were worn and faded.

Frank had an eye loupe out and was already looking at the pommel. “There’s more there, Damian, but I can’t make it out.”

“Yeah, we need to bring it out somehow.” I picked the dagger up and turned it over in my hands. The metal was a dull gray. It didn’t have the worn sheen of silver and looked more like … nickel. “Frank, I think I might have an idea.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “If this thing’s as evil as Foster thinks, I seriously doubt it’s silver. You remember my Dad collects coins?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, when a nickel’s worn all to hell you can put this stuff on it called Nic-A-Date to bring the date back temporarily. The only side effect is a little stain.”

“That’s gotta kill the value.” He glanced at the dagger.

“If it was only good for slag anyway, what’s it hurt?”

“Good point. So you have any nic-a-whatsit?”

I grinned. “Give me a minute. I think it’s in the supply closet somewhere.”

Twenty minutes of digging turned up the little bottle of Nic-A-Date, nestled in a box with plastic coin holders, cotton gloves, and a mystery sack I promised Dad I wouldn’t open unless I had a dire financial emergency. I bounced the little gray sack in my hand a couple times, then laid it back in the box. I grabbed a roll of paper towels and two bowls, filled one up with water, and joined Frank at the counter.

Frank read the warning label when I handed him the bottle and his eyes widened. “Uh, you use this stuff indoors?”

“Used to use it a lot,” I said.

“That explains some things.”

“Ah ha, ha, ha. Hand me the dagger and let’s try this out.”

I took the dagger, hilt first, from Frank and turned it so the pommel hung over the empty bowl. Frank popped the bottle of Nic-A-Date out of the package, opened it, and handed it to me. I put a healthy coating on both sides of the dagger and we waited. In the time it took for our eyes to start burning, ghosts of the characters carved into the pommel took shape.

“They look like runes,” Frank said.

I shook my head. “Look at the lines, though. Runes shouldn’t have all those waves and loops.” A different rune was carved into each triangle of the pentagram. Two runes were in the center of the pentagram, while six more were carved inside the border of the thin double circle. I held the dagger by the blade and turned it over. The other side was much the same, with slightly different symbols.

“What the hell is that stench?” Cara yelled as she flew into the room.

“We’re removing Frank’s nose hairs.”

Frank’s eyes flashed up from the loupe before he grinned. “That’s probably true.”

I dipped the pommel into the bowl of water to neutralize the Nic-A-Date. After drying it off with a paper towel, I set it on the cracked glass top of the display case.

“Oh dear,” Cara said as she ran her fingers over the etchings. “I may know someone who can tell you a bit about these.” She glanced at the clock and then back to the dagger. “It will take me awhile to get him here, probably at least an hour.”

“Do you know what they are?” I said.

Her eyes met mine and she frowned. “I hope not.”

I nodded. “I’ll pick up Zola and meet you back here in an hour.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It only took fifteen minutes to drive to Town and Country. Sometimes I wondered what the neighbors in the upscale community would think if they knew what was living next door. I knocked and Vik answered.

“Hey, D. You here for Sam?”

I stared at Vik and blinked. “That sounded unusually casual.”

Vik grinned and flashed his fangs. “One must adapt to the times.”

“Don’t want to know. I’m actually looking for Zola.”

“I believe she is downstairs in Sam’s room. I will inform them of your arrival.”

I sat down on the cherry bench on the right side of the entryway. The Pit’s house verged on being vulgar in its opulence. A vaulted ceiling spread out from the double doors and soared above a grand staircase. Magnificent wooden steps and banisters, each carved with vines and flowers, traced a path to the basement in the center of the staircase, and two stairways flared out along the sides to meet again on the second floor. The landing was graced with a four-foot pewter tree of life. Hanging above the stairs to the basement was an ancient coat of arms. The swords looked real and well oiled, lit by an old crystal chandelier that hung from a gilded gothic moulding.

I cursed in surprise as the Forest Park brunette vampire in the red dress, now wearing jeans and a blue knit top, walked around the left corner from the dining room. She froze for only a moment. Vik and Sam crested the stairs, with Zola close behind them.

“Impadda!”

The brunette lunged at me as I called up the shield. Vik’s eyes went wide and he blurred into motion, tackling her before she hit my shield. She reached toward me, but Vik grabbed her wrist, spun her around, and locked her in a bear hug. He looked pissed.

“Devon!” He was an inch from her face and yelling. “What the
fuck
are you doing?!”

“Unfinished business,” she hissed. Her body jerked in Vik’s hold and something made a terrible, wet popping sound. Vik’s anger broke and rose into a cry of agony. His arms dangled at the elbows as he staggered away from Devon.

She leapt at me again only to be smashed out one of the front door by my sister. Wood splintered and crashed to the floor as I dropped the shield. I glanced at Vik. Zola was already leaned over him, with his right arm stretched out. I dashed outside to help Sam, only to find her flying backwards through the air. I think I cursed as tried my best to catch her and we both slammed into the remnants of the left door.

“Soon, Vesik,” Devon said. She pointed her index finger and backed off into a line of trees and shrubs.

Sam climbed off me and offered her hand. I took it and stood up, brushing away the dirt and splinters.

“Devon?” I said to no one in particular.

“Yes, Damian,” Vik said. I turned back to the now door-less entryway. He was rubbing his elbows and grimacing, but at least his arms were moving again. “Bloody whore can consider us done.” His voice was steady, but tremors shook his shoulders, from rage, or pain, or both.

“Devon is the vampire who attacked me after the wedding. She had puppets, just like the rogue.”

Zola frowned.

“Vik,” I said, turning to the old vampire. “I’m sorry about Devon.”

“It is appreciated, but I do not require your sympathies.” He clenched his fists and started to turn away.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

His shoulders slumped just a little and he turned around with a weak smile. “You didn’t. Don’t concern yourself with it.”

“You’ll find I always concern myself with friends.”

He eyed me in silence for a moment. “You are a strange man, a necromancer who counts vampires among his friends.”

“Not all vampires,” I muttered as I looked out into the yard. There was no trace of Devon.

I turned to my master without responding to her muffled laughter. “We need to get back to the Double D. Cara is bringing a friend over to look at some runes for me. It may have something to do with Devon or the rogues.” I paused and turned to Sam, “Shit, did Devon give you that dagger?”

Sam’s smile slipped as she nodded. “Yes, she said you’d appreciate it. I never even thought …”

“It’s okay,” I said as I squeezed her shoulder. “I’d bet my ass it has something to do with all this crap. Foster said the dagger is saturated with darkness.”

“It could be a weapon beyond its maker’s original intent and appearance,” Zola said.

“I don’t know about that. It seems to be made out of nickel.”

Zola’s gaze snapped up to mine. “We need to get to the shop, now.”

“I’m coming with you,” Sam said.

I nodded and walked a few steps behind her before turning back to the house. “What about the doors?”

“We have extras in the basement,” Vik said.

Zola snorted and followed us to Vicky.

***

Foster, Aideen, Cara, and a man I didn’t recognize were standing at the counter with Frank when we got back to the shop. Bubbles and Peanut were sitting obediently at the man’s feet. I blinked and looked again just to make sure it was actually Bubbles and Peanut. The fairies looked up and smiled when we walked in.

The stranger said nothing, only stared at the dagger on the counter. He was decked out in a frilly white lace shirt, black slacks, and what looked like a dark red velveteen cloak. Sharp features etched his face, almost as sharp as the fairies, but no wings adorned his back. I could have sworn I saw a ringlet of gold running from his forehead and across his shoulder length platinum hair, but the glimmer was gone after I blinked.

“This is my friend, Glenn,” Cara said.

“Good to meet you,” I said as I extended my hand in greeting. I was surprised to see Zola take a step away from Glenn. She offered nothing but a brief nod in the way of greeting. I focused my Sight and hid my surprise. I could see nothing. No auras, no ley lines, nothing. My Sight was utterly blind.

Glenn’s indifference melted as he smiled and took my hand. He laughed quietly and nodded at Zola, his eyes trailing back toward the dagger. His gaze narrowed as it landed on my sister, but quickly continued on to the blade.

Sam took a step backwards, closer to Zola.

Glenn stared at the dagger again, all expression leaving his face. His movements were slow as he took a careful step forward, letting his fingers lower to the pommel and trace the pattern of the designs, turning the dagger over and doing the same.

My eyes flicked between the three as I rubbed a stiff spot on my neck.

I heard a deep rumbling sound, and was startled to realize it was Glenn speaking. “For the record, I am not so easily read, necromancer.”

“Umm, sorry?” I said, glancing between Cara, who wore a smile, and Zola, who looked like she was very unhappy to see Cara’s friend.

Glenn turned his eyes back on me. “Harmless.” I wasn’t sure if he was talking about me or the blade. “You did not cut yourself with the blade, did you?”

“No.”

“That is good, for I know these lines.” His eyes locked on mine and his pupils flowed into the whites of his eyes, turning into pools of infinite black ice. I couldn’t look away. I physically could not move my head. “There is a church to the south. It is there, below the blood of Price’s folly, the boards of the carpenter, in the shadow of the knob.”

Glenn released a dark chuckle as he turned to my sister and grinned. She shrunk away from him as his body folded in on itself with a swirl of black energy. He vanished with a crack of thunder that shook the earth, causing everything in the store to rattle and tinkle on the shelves.