'We stick with the easy ones, and we practice the hell out of them before we're allowed to do them on our own,' Garrett said. 'The Imperium, though, they push the limits. They mark their servants, even ones that have no magic of their own. They'll mark multiple words permanently on their Guards. It makes them into something else, something not human.'
The swordsman. He'd been different. Not only was his Power something Sullivan had never seen before, it had been too strong. As they'd grappled, he'd felt the unnatural heat coming from under his shirt, like there had been something on fire against his skin. 'Rokusaburo?'
'Normally we don't try to take an Iron Guard unless we've got at least five-to-one odds, preferably more. We got lucky…' Daniel grunted as he stood up. 'Come on, boys, we've got a long ride ahead of us.' Mar Pacifica, California The Imperium goon was tied to a chair in the center of the empty storage room. As nicely equipped as the family estate was, it had not come with a proper dungeon, so they had to make do. A single naked light bulb hung directly over their prisoner's head. Francis and Delilah were standing back in the shadows, watching. Lance was the most experienced at… well, everything, and was going to do the actual questioning.
Francis found himself praying that the man would roll over and talk quickly, because he didn't have the stomach for violence. Sure, he'd killed his fair share of evil men. He'd even shot one of this particular fellow's associates in the face with a P17 Enfield, but pulling the trigger or using his Power to bash someone's head in during a battle was different than hurting someone who was completely at your mercy.
Remember the Imperium schools, Francis… He curled his hands into fists and steadied himself for whatever would come next. He and his family and other important delegates had been given a guided tour of one of the premier facilities in Tokyo. As many bored young men tended to do, Francis had wandered off the approved path and gotten lost. He'd seen the parts of the school that weren't shown to the outside world, and it had changed him for the rest of his life. Never forget what they did to the children. Anyone who supported the schools deserved whatever they got.
Lance limped up to the chair and pulled the burlap sack from their guest's head. He glared at his captors with angry eyes, and surely would have started shouting if it wasn't for the fact Delilah had taped his mouth shut. The spell of weakness was drawn on his forehead with ash from the old place, which seemed somehow appropriate.
'I'm sure you know who we are,' Lance said with his rough drawl. He produced a hunting knife from behind his back and quickly shoved it through the man's shirt. He twitched and jerked away in sudden fear. The blade was so razor sharp that it sheared through the cloth like it was nothing, and Lance laid the man's chest bare. A series of red scratches had been cut into the prisoner's chest. Francis couldn't read the Japanese version of spells, but he'd seen this one before, and knew that it granted increased vitality. It made the Imperium thugs harder to put down unless you got them right in the heart or the brain.
'And I sure as hell know who you work for…' Lance made a show of studying the marks. 'I'm gonna ask you some questions. You're gonna answer or you're gonna regret it.'
Lance roughly pulled the pressure tape from the prisoner's mouth. He screamed as the tape removed most of his moustache. 'Grimmy bastards!'
'So you do know who I am. What's your name?'
'Albert,' he spat. 'Albert Rizzo.'
'Where you from, Albert Rizzo?'
'Montauk, New York.'
It never ceased to amaze Francis that Americans would join the Imperium cause, but from what he understood from the international society, it was the same in every nation. The Imperium recruited mostly from the poor classes. They usually picked normals, gave them a taste of having their own magic, and put them to work. The smartest and most brutal were able to rise in the ranks, and the rest turned into cannon fodder in their never- ending war against the Grimnoir.
'Who do you answer to, Al?'
'I answer to the Chairman!'
Lance sighed and stabbed the knife into Albert's arm. the man screamed. 'You know what I mean.' The knife came out, the last inch dripping blood. 'Unfortunately for you, your recruiter marked you with the kanji for health, which means that I can cut on you for twice as long as a regular man 'fore you croak. Plus I know all the places that hurt, but don't have any arterial bleeding. See where I'm going with this?'
Albert growled at him. 'Madi. He said his name was Mr. Madi.'
Francis twitched. He'd heard that name before. The man was a legend, even by Iron Guard standards.
'Big fella. Got one bad eye?' Lance asked.
'Yeah, that's him.'
'Wait!'
Francis jerked toward the female cry. Faye? What's she doing in here? She must have followed them down, but he hadn't heard her. She can teleport, idiot. The girl walked into the circle of light and right up to the chair. Lance raised his hand that wasn't holding a giant knife.
'You don't want to see this, kid,' he said gently. 'This ain't for you.'
'Where's the one-eyed man!' Faye shouted.
'Go to hell.'
Lance turned around and stabbed him in the thigh. Albert squealed. 'See? Look what you made me do. My daddy fought Apaches, and he taught me every damn thing he learned from them when I was little. So don't make me take a trip down memory lane, and answer the damned question.'
'I don't know,' Albert said. 'We work in little groups. They call us cells. They send telegrams when they need us for jobs. We don't know how to reach nobody else. Especially the bosses. I swear. That crazy brunette done killed everybody else in my cell.'
Lance wiped his knife on Albert's shirt before returning it to the sheath on his belt. 'See, that wasn't so hard now, was it? I didn't even have to skin you or nothing.'
Albert started to cry. 'You don't get it, Grimmy. It don't matter what you do to me. My brothers are gonna win in the end. The Chairman's way is the only way. We need his leadership. Freedom is a lie. People are starving. There ain't no jobs. The rich keep getting richer while we're dying. The Chairman can fix everything. He's just like Jesus!'
Lance rolled his eyes. 'Damn useful idiots.'
'No! He's not just magic. He works miracles. He's the real second coming. He's the new messiah, only this time he's making the weak into the strong. His plan is to make man better, the perfection of humanity. People like you say that he's taking away freedom, but he's really just protecting us from our own bad choices. The Chairman will save us all. When he's done, everyone will have Power. This isn't just a movement, this is true religion. I see that look on your face, you think we're crazy. Oh, you think you can stop us, but you're wrong. I've seen Madi kill your stupid kind like it was nothing. You think you're so powerful? You ain't got nothing!'
Faye began to shake, but Francis didn't think that it was because of what Lance had done. 'Were you with the one-eyed man in El Nido?'
'Is that where that old Mexican lived with his stupid brat and his stupid cows? Yeah. His magic was supposed to be so rare and special and shit, but it was nothing compared to-' Albert's eyes widened and he looked down in shock at the knife planted squarely in the center of his chest.
Francis jerked in surprise. Faye had Traveled directly behind Lance. She slowly took her hand away from the quivering knife. 'He was Portuguese. And cows aren't stupid!' she shouted. Albert tried to say something, but then his read rolled forward, limp. When Francis blinked again, Faye was gone.
'Aw hell…' Lance said, reaching around and realizing that Faye had relieved him of his hunting knife. 'That ain't good. A single kanji won't save you from getting knifed in the heart.'
'Faye!' Francis shouted, realizing what had just happened. He ran for the stairs.
Delilah stepped into the light, grabbed the Imperium man by the hair and lifted his head. He was obviously dead. 'You know, I like her. She's a firecracker.'
Faye's boots landed in the soft grass of the front lawn. Taking a few steps, she folded her arms around her chest and sunk down to her knees, sobbing.
That's another promise broken. I said no more crying.
She was supposed to be tough now. She'd just killed one of the men who'd killed Grandpa. He deserved it. He
