“I don’t care what anyone else said about him,” Cole said evenly, “I can tell you he’s a stand-up guy. Even after he got injured in Atoka, he still wanted to ride with Paige to face off against those Full Bloods.”
Rico grunted. “Bein’ stupid should never be mixed up with bein’ brave. I already heard about you saving a bunch of people stuck in a panic room during the Breaking Moon, so I guess you do have some redeeming qualities.” Looking down from Waggoner’s eyes, he said, “Tell me how you got that.”
Waggoner shifted his weight off his left side while pressing a hand against one leg. “Half Breed tore into me in Atoka. Nearly crippled me, but some friends patched me up before steering me toward this place.”
“Not that, numb nuts! The fucking box in your hands!”
Waggoner tightened his grip on the metal container. “I was coming down to see if anyone needed help when that Full Blood in the basement broke loose. As soon as I got to the bottom of the stairs, Jessup handed it to me and told me to put it away.”
“So instead you sneak out with it? Didn’t anyone stop you?”
“They were all too busy trying to get a look at the Full Blood or get to a weapon in case it tried to get upstairs.”
Before Rico could get close enough to grab hold of the other man, Cole stepped between them and said, “I told him to try and get ahold of the Jekhibar when we called to let him know we were headed out here. We need that thing.”
“And I agree with him,” Waggoner said. “I’m a grown man. I don’t take orders from much of anyone and I don’t need someone else to fight my battles.” Looking Rico dead in the eyes, he added, “I’ve heard plenty of things about you. Why the hell would you pick sides with these crazies?”
“Because there’s a fight that needs to be won. We can worry about settling up with each other after that’s finished.” Rico’s gaze didn’t lose any of its fire when he shifted it toward Cole. “Why didn’t you just come to me with this?”
“Why didn’t you answer any of the calls we made when we needed help clearing out St. Louis and Topeka?”
“I left you all the Snappers I had.”
“And they work great. We need more than bullets, though. That’s why—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rico sighed. “That’s why you broke off from the IRD. You gonna give me that box or are you gonna make me take it from you?”
Waggoner didn’t look like he was cowed in the slightest by Rico, and he didn’t look to Cole for affirmation before handing over the metal box. Rico took it, opened it, and snatched the bent metal wedge from it. Tucking the box under an arm, he reached into one of the pockets of his heavy leather biker jacket. When Cole first met the big man, that jacket had patches of canvas to fill in the spaces that still needed to be covered with tanned Half Breed hide. Now the entire jacket was solid leather, stitched together from several pieces that fit like a puzzle wrapped around his entire upper body. From his pocket, Rico took a small plastic bottle of eye drops. Recognizing the color and oily texture of the fluid inside the bottle, Cole knew it did a lot more than moisturize and rejuvenate.
“Put these in,” Rico said. “Both of you.”
“What is it?” Waggoner asked.
Taking the bottle and sniffing the top, Cole tipped his head back so he could put a couple drops in each eye. “It lets you see scents,” he said. “You can also see certain kinds of energy patterns like whatever flows through the Skinner runes.” Handing the bottle over to Waggoner, he asked, “What does flow through those runes, Rico?”
The big man shrugged. “Long as they work, I don’t give a crap.”
Waggoner sighed in a way that reflected his uncertainty at putting his eyesight in the hands of men who barely seemed able to keep themselves from getting killed. Cole knew as much because he’d let out the same sigh plenty of times. Already in too deep as it was, Waggoner put the drops in his eyes and immediately dropped the bottle. “It burns. Shit, it burns. Wash it out!”
“Keep yer voice down,” Rico snarled.
Cole was a little more supportive. “It’s supposed to burn. Just let it soak in.” Grabbing Waggoner’s sleeve, he pulled him away from the street even though there hadn’t been a hint of a car since they stepped out of the Vigilant’s building. “And do it over here so the cameras don’t see.”
“You’re worried about the goddamn cameras?” Waggoner asked. “I could be going blind and you . . . oh wait. It’s feeling a little better.”
“When it gets cold, open your eyes.”
After a few more seconds Waggoner opened his eyes.
Rico was in the process of blinking in the drops he’d just applied as he pocketed the bottle. “All right,” he said. “We need to walk back into that bar and order a drink.”
“Doesn’t Jessup have that place wired?” Cole asked.
“Yeah, and I’m supposed to be on patrol right now. Most of the times, patrol winds up at that bar. Come on.” As they walked back to the Spring Street Bar and Grill, Rico wiped at his eye and told Waggoner, “If anyone realizes that rock is missing, I’m blaming it on you.”
“Go right ahead. You think I didn’t work out a few stories to tell if I was caught with it?”
Rico’s eyebrows waggled upward and he nudged Cole. “This one might work out after all.” He knocked on the bar door and said, “Step inside and try not to make a big deal about all the pretty colors you’ll see.”
When the door to the bar was opened, they were greeted with plenty of colors. First, there was the matted black of the shotgun leveled at them by the doorman. Since they weren’t Half Breeds or showing any Nymar markings when they were forced to uncover their necks and wrists, they were allowed inside. On the walls, there were bright red and blue beer signs, pink neon advertising a brand of rum, flashing spectrums thrown from video games and a pinball machine, and of course the sparkling yellow and greens of an old jukebox. More than that, Cole saw something he’d never seen before.
When he used the eye drops on previous occasions, he’d seen green wisps coming from Dryad symbols, dark smoky reds from Nymar, and even a disturbing black from Skinners themselves. What he hadn’t seen was the light blue curls of vaguely glowing smoke seeping from the people gathered there. The color streamed off everyone in the bar, swirling about them as they moved and entwining when one person’s path crossed another.
“Holy crap,” Waggoner said. “This stuff is really messing with me.”
“Me too,” Cole said. “What’s with the blue?”
“That,” Rico told him, “comes off of everyone who’s not tainted by anything.” With a grin, he added, “At least nothing that isn’t for sale in a place like this. From what I’ve seen, it comes off of yer run-of-the-mill human.”
“When did this start?” Cole asked.
“Can’t say for certain since I don’t put this shit in my eyes all the time, but I’d say right about the time of the Breaking Moon.”
As he spoke, Cole noticed all of the blue wisps in the room were working their way in one direction. His direction. They converged on him like ghostly fingers that just realized there was some sort of treat in his pocket.
“You think that’s weird,” Rico said. “Get a load of this.” He removed the Jekhibar from his pocket, held it in his hand and let it rest on his palm.
There wasn’t much of a change at first, but the blue wisps subtly shifted their direction until they were drifting toward Rico. Upon reaching his outstretched hand, they circled it and brushed against the Jekhibar before pressing into the rough, silvery surface.
“Just wait,” Rico said before Cole could ask the question that had popped into his mind.
In a matter of seconds the ghostly smoke emanating from the bodies in that room poured out of them even faster and blended to form a singular current that swept through the room. Although it was still disrupted by the constant motion of the bar’s patrons, the glowing haze took on a brighter hue as it flowed into the stone sitting on Rico’s palm.
“It’s coming from the ground,” Waggoner said.
Cole tore his eyes from the sight of the shimmering fog and looked down. Although he couldn’t see a definite source, the flow of the ghostly substance moved in such a way that a pattern emerged. It was indeed emanating from the people, but also rushed up from the floor, passing through boards and tile as if they were nothing but a screen. It all went directly to the Jekhibar.
“What is that thing?” Waggoner asked while looking to the lump of silver in Rico’s hand.
