distracted by the pain, I reached automatically for my gift, to find some weakness in his defences…and it was there, just waiting to be used. I didn’t waste any time wondering why. I simply fired up my gift, reached out with my mind, and found the operating spells controlling the combat sorcerers’ magical items. And then it was the easiest thing in the world to tear away all the items’ controls and restraints and let the amulets and charms and fetishes release all their power at once.
I could have fixed it so they would discharge harmlessly, but I didn’t feel like being merciful.
The magical items exploded like grenades, blowing their owners apart. Thirteen cowboys cried out in shock and pain and horror as their power sources punched holes through their chests, tore off their arms, or blew their heads apart. It was all over in a few moments, and then there were thirteen dead combat sorcerers lying on the bar-room floor, in slowly spreading pools of blood and gore. Alex lowered his glowing cricket bat, breathing hard. Betty and Lucy Coltrane looked around, kicked the bodies nearest them just in case, and then high-fived each other.
Bettie Divine looked at me, shock and horror in her face.
“John; what have you done?”
“He said Kill them all.”
“That doesn’t mean you had to kill all of them!”
“Yes it did,” I said. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
“What?”
“They threatened me, and my friends, and they killed a poor drunk sorcerer. They broke my first rule. Thou shalt not mess with me and mine. I just sent a message to Kid Cthulhu and all his kind.”
“You killed thirteen men to make a point?” Bettie was staring at me as though she’d never seen me before, and perhaps she hadn’t. Not this me.
“They would have killed you,” I said.
“Yes. They would have. But you’re supposed to be better than that.”
“I am,” I said. “Sometimes.”
She wasn’t even looking at me any more. She knelt beside what was left of the man called Ace. He’d carried three magical charms, and they’d torn him apart as they detonated. The amulet had blown his hand right off his wrist. His head was still pretty much intact. He looked more surprised than anything. Bettie cupped his face with one hand.
“We were close, once. When we were both a lot younger. He wasn’t always like this. We had dreams, of all the wonderful things we were going to do. And I became a reporter for a tabloid, and he ended up as a cowboy. He wasn’t bad, not when I knew him. He liked silly comedies, and happy endings, and he held me on bad days and told me he believed in me. And yes, I know, he would have killed me if you hadn’t stopped me. That doesn’t change anything.”
“Did you love him?” I said.
“Of course I loved him. The man he was then. But I don’t think he’d been that man for some time.” She stared down at the dead face, into his staring eyes. She tried to close the eyelids, but they wouldn’t stay closed. Bettie made a sound, and sat back on her heels. “I thought I’d be stronger than this. Harder, more cynical. The things I’ve seen, and done…the death of someone who used to be a friend, long ago, shouldn’t affect me like this. I didn’t think I could still hurt like this.”
“You get used to it,” I said. And immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say. “Bettie, you’ve got nothing to feel bad about. This is all down to me.”
“Yes,” she said. “It is.”
She got up, all calm and composed again, and walked straight past me to the bar. She picked up her drink and took a dainty sip. She didn’t look at me once. And I knew she’d never look at me the same way again, after seeing what I could do, what I would do, when pushed to the wall.
I will always do whatever is necessary, to protect my friends, whether they approve or not.
Alex helped Betty and Lucy Coltrane loot the bodies of anything worth the having, and then directed them to haul the bodies out back and dump them in the alley outside. Where the Nightside’s various scavengers would quickly dispose of them. There’s not a lot of room for sentiment in the Nightside. I would have helped, but I was busy thinking. Why had control of my gift been returned to me, after being blocked twice already? Presumably, whoever had been interfering with my gift just didn’t need to any more. Because they were watching over me and knew I’d located Pen Donavon.
Still musing, I wandered back to the bar. Alex had finally persuaded Donavon to come out from behind it, and he was emerging slowly, bit by bit, staring with horrified eyes at all the carnage and destruction.
“They’ll always be coming after me, won’t they?” he said sadly. “It’s never going to be over. I’m never going to get my life back. It wasn’t much, but it was mine, and it was safe.”
“You’ll be safe again once we get you and the Afterlife Recording back to the Unnatural Inquirer’s offices,” Bettie said briskly. “You’ll have the paper’s full resources behind you. No-one will dare touch you.”
“And once you’ve handed over the DVD, no-one will have any reason to go after you,” I said.
“They might expect me to intercept another broadcast,” said Donavon.
“We’ve seen your television,” I said. “Smash it. End of problem.”
“We’ll never make it to the paper’s offices,” said Donavon. “They’ll be lining up to get at me, all along the way.”
“John will find a way,” Alex said firmly. “It’s what he does. When he isn’t busy trashing my bar.”
“He doesn’t have his gift any more,” said Bettie. “He’s been neutered.”
“Actually, no,” I said. “I’ve got it back, now I’ve caught up with Donavon. Tell me, Pen, what made you think to come here, looking for me?”
“I got a phone call,” said Donavon. “It said I’d be safe at Strangefellows. That John Taylor could protect me. I knew your name, of course. And the bar’s reputation.”
“Who called you?” I said.
“Don’t know. Identity withheld. I didn’t recognise the voice. But I was desperate, so…”
Alex looked at me. “Kid Cthulhu?”
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe there’s another player in this game. Someone powerful enough to shut down my gift until it didn’t matter any more. And just maybe, someone who wanted me to find Donavon, eventually…The rules of this game seem to be changing. I wonder why.”
“I’d better track down Suzie,” said Alex.
“She might have her phone turned off if she’s busy. You know Suzie’s only really happy when she’s working. If you can find her, tell her I need her the moment she’s free. I’ve got a feeling this case is going to get seriously ugly.”
“Got it,” said Alex. He turned away to root through the mess at the back of the bar, searching through the debris for his phone.
Bettie was looking at me now, her expression hard to read. I looked patiently back, waiting for her to make the first move.
“Is that what you and Suzie have in common?” she said finally. “The thing that holds you together? That you’re both killers?”
“It’s not that simple,” I said.
“I’ve never understood what you see in Shotgun Suzie. She’s a monster. She lives to kill. How can you stay with someone like that?”
“No-one else has shared what we’ve shared,” I said. “Seen the things we’ve seen, done the things we’ve had to do. There’s no-one else we could talk to, no-one else who’d understand.”
“I want to understand,” said Bettie. She moved slowly forward, almost in spite of herself, then suddenly she was in my arms again, her face pressed against my shoulder. I held her lightly, not wanting to scare her off. She buried her face in my shoulder, so she wouldn’t have to look me in the eye. “Oh, John…You killed to protect me. I know that. I know it was necessary. But…you don’t have to be like this. So…cold. I could warm you.” She finally looked up at me. Our eyes met, and she didn’t flinch. She put her face up, and I kissed her. Because I wanted to. After a while, she stepped back, and I quickly let her go. She managed a small smile.
“Let me take you away from all this, John. Living in an insane world is bound to make you crazy. And living with a crazy woman…”
