Five
A monolithic grey apartment building towered over the street opposite the Loyalist Hotel. A single figure stood on its roof, her foot resting on the raised edge as she leaned downward, her unseeing gaze cast toward the street behind her trim black sunglasses.
She wore brown knee-high boots, blue jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt, and a brown jacket. The cold wind whipped her hair into a tangle of knots, and blowing snowflakes latched onto it, but she did not care. The cold bit angrily at the exposed skin of her cheeks and hands. Again, she did not care. Her focus was on the task at hand; everything else was secondary.
Her attention snapped to the far right side of the street. The sounds of a single car engine came to her, and she knew instantly that Aaron was in the vehicle. She recognized the driver, too. It was the youngling, Phillip, whom she had sent to escort Aaron to his hotel. The vehicle continued down the empty road, the freshly fallen snow crunching beneath its tires.
Telepathically, Phillip called out, “I sense you, Matriarch, but I cannot find you.” August Ness hated the title Matriarch. She hated it more for having had it forced on her.
“Above you.” She felt his hesitation.
“My apologies. I used your surname. I think he has put it together.” A dull twinge of annoyance pinched August, but the outcome of Phillip’s mistake was not so grave. “He would have discovered it for himself. It is of little consequence.”
August could feel Phillip’s relief. Her thoughts carried her through the past year, and she wondered briefly how Jordan would have dealt with the youngling. But what did it matter? She was certainly not Jordan. There were bigger issues at hand, and unlike him, she recognized that times had changed. The old ways no longer applied.
The engine across the street stopped. Car doors opened and closed, and the sounds of footfalls drifted up to her. A trunk opened, something heavy was placed on the ground, and the trunk was closed again.
A male voice asked, “How long will you be in town?” Phillip.
A second male voice responded, “Just a couple days.” Of course, that voice was Aaron’s. She noted the mild disappointment in his tone.
“First time in Hamilton?”
“First time in this country. How much do I owe you?”
August could hear a gentle ruffling and assumed Aaron was thumbing through the money in his wallet.
“Thanks for the drive, keep the change,” Aaron said. Footsteps in wet snow followed the exchange, along with the sound of plastic wheels against the sidewalk, one of them squeaky.
“Matriarch, do you want me to stay with you?”
“Yes, I do.” August let her mind reach out. She felt Phillip, Aaron, the occupants of the hotel, and the people in the building beneath her. Their thoughts were focused on the trivialities of day-to-day life. There was no threat among them.
She listened intently: the wind howled around her; a bird, well above her, fluttered its wings fruitlessly against the wind; voices spoke indistinctly in the various rooms of the hotel and apartment building below; vehicles on the distant highway sang in a faint, wavering tone.
August moved her head to the right. A faint, almost imperceptible noise came to her from the alley below. She scanned the area for any living thing. The alley was not only absent of any life, but it felt like an emptiness hung there.
“I require your sight,” she ordered Phillip.
“Of course.” The perpetual darkness that was her vision melted to a view of the street below, her pupils dilating. Their eyes panned the area, examining every shadow, crevice, and secret place. The alley was awash with darkened areas that could not be penetrated. The Cubi were capable of many things, but seeing in the dark was not one of them. August peered into the velvety blackness of the alley beside the grey building. A light flickered on and off, briefly showering the area in a warm glow. There was no one. August’s vision faded.
“I want you to stay with the car and in the immediate area, but keep out of sight.” She felt his reluctance to leave. Phillip had reported to her for the past twelve months, and before that, he worked for Jordan. In that time, he had learned to respect August for her intelligence, abilities, and tenacity. He also learned he could not question her.
“Could I at least get you something to eat or drink? Something warm?”
“I do not require food or drink.”
“There is a café around the corner, Matriarch...” His thoughts trailed off. “Your usual?”
August thought over his offer. He was starting to develop feelings toward her, but a romantic relationship with anyone beneath her would be considered inappropriate. She was the Matriarch, the leader of the Cubi. There was no other of her race in a higher position, or equivalent to it. Even Jordan, who was more for tradition, disliked the rule but had followed it begrudgingly when he was in power. He was, however, well known for his exploits with human women. Jordan was an attractive man, and given the fact that he was an Incubus, he’d had no issues with loneliness.
“Extra hot,” she replied to Phillip. Triumph rolled off him in waves.
August listened to Phillip get back into his car and drive off. The cold winter wind continued to blow. August wrapped her arms around herself. Her red suitcase sat beside her, mostly filled with clothes and toiletries. After leaving Aaron at the airport, she had slipped into a taxi and asked the driver to take her to the hotel quickly. The driver obliged, dropping her off fifteen minutes before Phillip and Aaron arrived. She had changed into warmer clothing in the lobby washroom, and made her way up to the rooftop.
August would have preferred to use one of the apartments looking down onto the street, but they were all occupied. The other buildings in the area were businesses, and they were all closed at this time of night. Being in the hotel would run her the risk that Aaron would see her again, and that would raise too many questions. The House Ness had agreed to have as little involvement in Aaron’s life as possible, unless it was an emergency. This was their obligation.
August let out a small sigh, her breath forming a cloud in front of her. She reached into Aaron’s mind. Cubi rarely concerned themselves with trivial issues such as privacy. His mind was a tangle of thoughts: Jordan’s death, his headache, teaching, and her. Apparently, she had left an impression. He was now in the process of speaking with the front desk clerk.
The smell of ozone came to her, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. Ozone was generated by some human machines and magick, and judging by the amount, it was being made by someone and they were using a great amount of it. Her mind again reached over the street, attempting to discern a presence, but there was nothing to be found.
Then the harsh wind died, along with the blowing snow. She balled her hands into fists, the whites of her knuckles protruding, and bent her knees slightly, preparing herself for an attack. All the while she continued to examine the area.
“Phillip, come now,” she commanded. There was no response. “Phillip!” she called out again. Still, nothing.
August feared the worst for him. The ambient thoughts of those around her had disappeared and been replaced by a low hum. They were all still out there; she was being blocked.
Sounds came from the side of the building. The emptiness she’d sensed in the alley was growing closer, climbing toward her. Her head angled toward the sounds as they reached the roof. She felt eyes staring at her. There was the almost imperceptible sound of someone breathing, quickly followed by a warm sensation. Leaping backward, August narrowly avoided a red burst of energy, followed by the smell of burnt hair.
Energy blasts; must be a Jotunn, she thought with distaste. The empty sensation was still present; she changed her angle to face it. How are they blocking me? This is beyond the capabilities of a normal Jotunn.
“Having a few problems tonight, are we?” said a disembodied male voice. The emptiness moved from in front of her to her right. “Well, I’m right in front of you. Can’t you see me? Oh wait, that’s right...” he said with a low snicker. A woman’s scream echoed from the alley below and someone began running across the street.
No! she thought, hearing Aaron grunt as he slid on the ice.
August maneuvered to her left, the empty presence moving in tandem. She tried scanning the alleyway, but there was still nothing.
“You know I am going to kill you,” said the disembodied voice.
August gazed toward the empty presence. “You can try.”
“Ahh, there it is. The famous Cubi cockiness.” August gave a half smile. “You Succubi are all the same,” he said with a mirthless laugh.
“Help me!” cried a woman’s voice from below.
“Don’t worry about Aaron, August. We’ll take care of him,” the voice snarled. August started for the fire escape, but hands grabbed her and pulled her backward onto the ground. She stood up, taking several steps backward.
“You are completely useless, aren’t you? A poor little blind girl, all by herself.”
August stood still, her hands at her sides. Aaron was now walking toward the hotel with the woman. If they were going to kill him, they would have done so already.
“No witty reply, girl?”
Soft footsteps walked slowly from her side to behind her.
“You will not kill me this night, or any other night,” she replied. “The Cubi are more powerful than you.”
“Power? You want to talk about true power? My god destroyed all but a smattering of you filth in a single stroke,” he said, agitation now creeping into his tone. August was sure he was directly behind her now. “Here’s the thing about power,” he continued in a whisper. “It can be so easily taken.”
A mental image of him hovering his hands just above her arms, careful not to touch her, brought a wave of nausea rolling over her.
“Your powerful god, where is he now? Saveio is imprisoned.” August braced herself.
“You dare use his name!?” the voice yelled.
August smirked. In one quick movement, she squatted down and grabbed his right arm. Using it as a lever, she pulled and pivoted him across her back, slamming him into the ground. The Jotunn rapidly lifted his knees to his chest and thrust them into the air, quickly getting back up to face her.
“That was stupid, girl,” he said.
The feeling of emptiness was replaced by his thoughts. She could hear the thoughts of the people around her again. He has lost his concentration. “Phillip!” she called out telepathically.
“Yes, Matriarch? The line-up is a bit long. Maybe ten more—”
“Come, now!”
She heard the sound of something metallic sliding out of cloth. She assumed it was a knife from the Jotunn’s jacket. Remove threat, disable, then interrogate, she reminded herself. The Jotunn ran at her, swinging the metallic object, the sound betraying its location. August, shifting her weight, sidestepped the Jotunn and outstretched her hand. She grabbed onto his wrist and pulled it up hard behind him, causing an audible crack. She jumped upward, and on her descent, struck her elbow at the base of his neck, hitting a nerve cluster. She reached for the other arm, wrapping hers around it and gripping tightly, then jumped with her legs extending in front of her. As she landed, she felt his arm being liberated from its socket. The Jotunn let out a loud cry as he fell to his knees. Threat removed.
She swung her hand and struck him in his gut, and his breath issued from his mouth in a large wheeze. The Jotunn collapsed face-first on the gravel of the roof. She swung around and wrapped her arms and legs around his legs, then pulled, snapping the ligaments in his knee joints. The Jotunn wept openly.
Disabled. Now interrogate.
August stood up and brushed herself off. She took several deep breaths, listening to a car engine growing louder. Eventually, tires squealed in front of the apartment building. She stood there, hands on hips, listening to Phillip run up the fire escape as the Jotunn sobbed.
“Matriarch!” Phillip called. “Are you—” He stopped mid-sentence. She looked through his eyes. He was looking from her to the Jotunn and back to her again.
“I see why you are the Matriarch!” he said.
“I had a good teacher,” she replied.
The Jotunn was wearing a heavy woolen coat, dark pants, and brown boots. He looked completely human. August guessed that even to Phillip, he would not have seemed out of place. She bent down and grabbed the Jotunn by his coat collar, then dragged him toward the retaining wall that lined the edge of the rooftop and leaned him against it. All the while, she recounted the events of the past several minutes to Phillip, who stood there stupidly.
“Why are you here?” August asked the Jotunn, not quite yelling. She studied his red, blotchy face through her borrowed vision. Then it shifted to his gnarled, dark green Jotunn features.
The Jotunn collected himself, then cursed her. August cocked her head slightly, unsurprised by his response. She reached for his dislocated shoulder and squeezed. “What was your mission?” She released his shoulder. His chest started moving up and down; he was laughing. She squeezed again with much more force. The laughing quickly subsided.
“All I needed to do was distract you and keep you away from Alcott.”
As he spoke, a brilliant burst of blue light shot between August and Phillip. It struck the Jotunn and enveloped him completely. The youngling shielded his eyes from the light, and when he looked back, he saw a smoldering pile of gore. They both looked back at the place the shot had come from. A single figure from another rooftop above quickly moved away from the ledge.
“We have to get him!” Phillip said.
“No. We must get back to Aaron.”
“That thing is getting away!”
“Do not question me, youngling.”
Phillip hung his head. Something caught his eye in the pile of Jotunn remains: shards of what looked like a red crystal. He was about to comment on it when an alarmed feeling struck them both. As if choreographed, both August and Phillip looked toward the hotel.
“Aaron...” Phillip stated.
Phillip grabbed August’s red suitcase and they both darted to the rooftop door, and down the stairwell. As they ran through the lobby and onto the street, Phillip noted that there were a few people walking on the sidewalks now.
“Stay with the car. I will retrieve Alcott,” said August.
“Matriarch, who killed him?”
August opened the door to the Loyalist Hotel, looking behind her in Phillip’s direction. What could she say? She decided on the truth. “I do not know,” she replied, and hurried inside. But I do not like the possibilities.