Fallen Angels 9: Modus Morte
Chapter 1
If there’s one thing I’ve learned during my time spent living with Jayna, it’s this:
Cats are evil.
Well, this one is, anyway.
“Jayna!” I scream, and the Satan-spawned creature folds its ears back at the noise, but doesn't budge an inch. The bastard just sits there, in my way, staring.
“Jay! Lucifer’s being a bastard again!”
Hiss…growl…spit. Does he do any tricks?
“Jayna! Call off the psycho cat already!” Quetz…we need a sign that says “Beware of Owner, and Cat.”
“Dammit, Lucifer, let me past or I’ll blast you, you flea-bitten sack of fur! I live here and you damn well know it!”
Jayna finally, finally trots out of her room, bleary-eyed. It’s sometime around 4 am. I guess she does sleep, on occasion, after all.
“Lucifer, quit being a bastard and let her by.” Jayna scolds. When the cat doesn’t move, she taps her foot in annoyance, waits a second, then grabs him by the scruff of the neck, throws him into the nearest room and shuts the door. The noise that issues immediately from behind the closed door is enough to set my teeth on edge.
Jayna eyes me, head tilted. “What did you do to piss him off this time?”
“Not a damn thing.” I cross my arms and frown, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for a few hours…or days. “Torres had me helping with yet another round of zombies. Maybe that’s why he’s wigging out.”
Jayna shrugs, and yawns. “More walking dead out there these nights than live, huh?”
I nod tiredly. “No one can figure out where they’re all coming from…but if this keeps up I’m gonna see if Torres can work me onto the payroll.”
“Hey, she might. You never know, but if not, at least you’re getting your exercise.”
This earns a snort from me. “Goodnight Jayna. I’ve got to get some sleep before noon…”
“Sorry. See you later.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
I take off the helm and kick off my sandals before I crash onto the bed, not even wanting to bother with the rest of my clothes. Nice, soft, warm bed, and best of all, no walking dead in here. Unless you count me of course. Three nights in a row of helping Torres with the over-abundance of overripe corpses, on top of training with Adam/Raserei, plus a hot date with Mike yesterday, has all combined to make Az a tired girl.
~ Ciela. ~
Oh, not this again.
~ Jarras. ~
Go away.
~ Do not ignore me, Ciela. ~
I wouldn’t have to ignore you if you if you’d shut up.
~ Something is coming, Ciela Jarras. ~
You’ve been saying that. I know. Are you going to tell me what is coming?
~ We do not know. But something is happening. Something is searching... Trying…~
Trying? Trying to what? Please, Quetz, no more gods…
~ Not a god, but something powerful. We cannot even see it in its entirety, it is cloaked from us. ~
Hey, I know, when you actually have some information for me, come back and we can chat over a nice cup of tea. In the meantime I *really* need some sleep.
~ Your attitude is becoming bothersome, it is unbecoming of an Azangel to behave in such a manner. ~
It’s the fact that I’m *this* far from collapsing from lack of sleep that’s talking. PLEASE let me get some rest now, ok?
When there’s no reply to my admittedly whiney request, I stretch out on the bed and yawn. Ah, the joys of having the sacred artifact of an extinct religion speak in your head at all hours of the day and night because it’s having a bit of an anxiety attack.
Sleep….good.
Modus Morte: Chapter 2
Insistent chirping filled the air, followed closely thereafter by even more insistent cursing.
“Where…” clothes went flying across the room “did I leave that damn phone…” More items became airborne. “Aha!” Ciela lunged for the annoying electronic device and flipped it open with a silent prayer that it wasn’t Torres on the line with another zombie outbreak.
“Cie?” Mike’s voice filled her ear, and she smiled despite the much too early awakening.
“Yeah. Hey Mike. Sorry, I couldn’t find the phone.” She plopped back onto the bed and stretched. May as well get up for the day, I’m awake now. “What’s up?”
“Well, I just wondered if you wanted to grab a bite to eat before I went in to work this morning? I’m gonna have to work through lunch, one of my regulars left me a message and he’s going to be keeping me pretty busy today.”
“Breakfast sounds great.” Ciela wandered into the bathroom and turned on the hot water to let it warm up. “Have I got enough time for a quick shower?”
“Sure you do,” came the reply from both the phone at her ear and the doorway behind her. “Care for some company?”
“Oh, Jayna’s a sneaky…”
“Jayna’s sneaky? Should I go get her…” Mike grinned smugly as Ciela wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Bye Jay!” Ciela waved half-heartedly in her way out the door, close behind Mike. “If Adam and the kids come by tell them I’ll be by a little late, I’ve got some errands to run!”
Ciela’s werewolf-turned training partner had been gone for several months, then just suddenly returned, older and maybe a little wiser, but not much. Turns out that his dimension’s time rate differed from the Street’s, he had been ‘home’ for nearly three years before he came back, but to Jayna and Az, he’d only been gone three months…
This of course helped explain the half-grown whelps that were now following him around constantly. Ciela was rather fond of the kids, Jayna was not. She muttered something back that was decidedly negative, judging by the inclusion of the word ‘furbags’, and went back to her tome. So many artifacts, so little time.
“What in the world do you think that a twenty-one year old werewolf with a bad dye-job and a split personality can teach you anyway?” Jayna asked, long after the white-haired woman had left the room. “Hundreds of years worth of experience in that little bauble of hers, gods know how much raw information, not even mentioning the occasional divine presence, and she decides to train with a wet-behind-the-years Were?”
Jayna sighed, closed the book she was studying, and placed it carefully back on the shelf. There was no making sense of her current houseguest, aside from the fact that she seemed to pick up strays faster than a dog does fleas. First David, now it looks like Adam…I wish I knew why these things seem to be drawn to her like this. Hell, Adam had left the street entirely and then turned around and came back, no reason given, and they picked up where they left off, training.
She pulled another book off the shelf and flipped it open. I suppose you could say the same about me, too. I’ve wanted to protect her since I met her at that club…I guess it could be some warped sense of maternal instinct? She laughed out loud at her own idle thoughts.
“Ok, now, I don’t think so.” She says out loud, just to hear a voice in the deafening silence of the empty shop. I’m loathe to admit it, but I worry about her…associating with these creatures, even though they don’t seem to do her any harm. And this sudden influx of walking dead…Torres keeps calling her for assistance, but the fact of the matter is, Ciela’s usually already nearby.
“Coincidence.” Jayna shrugged, looked down at the book she had been browsing through, and closed it. “I must be losing my mind, talking out loud with no one here.”
There was a thump as Lucifer landed on the table and sauntered over to face her, tail flipping almost in agreement. “Oh, don’t you start, Lucifer. You’re still on my shit-list over last night. This morning, I mean.”
The cat turned his back on her and jumped back down to the floor, before wandering off in what could best be described as annoyance. Jayna sighed. Maybe today would best be served by going back to bed. She actually was still groggy from the 4-am wake up call between the ‘Tezcatlipoca-spawned-demon-cat’ and Ciela, and the information she was trying to dig up out of her vast archive was not cooperating with her tired eyes.
When the doorbell chimed loudly, jarring her from her slight daze, Jayna jumped in surprise. I don’t have any appointments until later this afternoon…
She looked longingly in the direction of the stairs leading up to her bedroom, then back toward the door that was ringing for the third time in as many seconds. And I don’t have many visitors this rude. What does he want this time?
She headed toward the door as her guest simply held the bell down, purposely trying to aggravate her. It was working well. She was highly annoyed already, and she hadn’t even laid eyes yet upon her ‘guest’. Why me? Why now? Just, WHY?
She opened the door wide and inclined her head slightly, not giving her guest even a glance. “Kelegar.”
“Who is Kelegar, Miss Alexandra?” queried a soft, silky, somewhat accented voice. Jayna’s eyes snapped open and she found herself looking at the top of a smooth head of dark, glossy hair and followed it down a few inches to the face underneath it. She didn’t know this person… Hell, she wasn’t even sure what its gender was, though she was leaning slightly towards male. Very slightly. If it was a male he had the slightest frame she’d ever seen. She could have picked him up one-handed.
Uncomfortable about the slip, and the familiarity of the tone that her guest was using, she backed up a step. “Do I know you?”
“Not personally, I do not believe.” He/she/it replied, the slightest hint of a smirk showing. “May I come in?”
Jayna crossed her arms and scowled. “I don’t think so,” She gave her would-be guest a thorough once over. Asiatic…Japanese, probably, judging from the sleek dark hair, skin tone, and facial features. A belt with a few small pouches, lock-picking-tool size, underneath an expensive looking long coat, boots showing underneath that…actually it looked a lot like one of her ‘work’ outfits, save the leather coat…the coat and the barest hint of a sheathed sword peeking out from beneath it.
“I assure you, I am not here to harm you or your belongings in any way. I just wished to show you some professional courtesy. I do not like to work in an area where there is someone as famous as yourself operating.”
“You usually go visit carrying swords?” She asked, while her mind repeated: famous?
“Not usually, but J Street has been having quite a problem with the undead lately, has it not?”
She had to give him that one. “Yeah, but it’s under control.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“What makes you say that?” She’d been researching the zombie outbreak for days and had nothing to show for it… Now this guy waltzes in acting like he has all the answers… She shook her head again. “Give me the sword and you can come in and talk, assuming there’s no more surprises hiding under that coat.”
“I can assure you…”
“Sword, or get off of my doorstep.” She thrust her hand out at him, palm up.
“If you insist.” He unbuckled the sword and handed it to her, still sheathed. “It does not take well to strangers however. Please be careful.”
“I have more than my share of experience with these things.”
“Indeed.”
“Before I ‘invite’ you in, do you mind telling me your name, I’m at a bit of a loss here, what, with you knowing me and my not knowing you…”
“Takeo Mori.” Came the answer. “I trust you have heard of me now?”
Modus Morte: Chapter 3
Heard of you? Oh yeah, you could say that I’ve heard of you. Jayna blinked once and relaxed her deathgrip on the sword, it was warm, alive, and it seemed to writhe beneath her fingers. Refusing to show him surprise, or anything else. Sarcasm always helps. “Nice toy. Old family heirloom?”
“You could say that.” her visitor replied, still wearing the same ‘cat who got the cream’ expression on his face, the ‘I know something you don’t’ attitude that was already starting to grate on her nerves. “May I?”
Jayna stepped to one side, grudgingly. “What the hell brings you to J Street, Mori?”
“Hello to you too, Miss Alexandra.”
“Enough with the formalities. Look, I don’t usually have tea with the competition, if you know what I mean. Why are you here? I thought the guild agreed to stay off of J Street?”
“Tea would be excellent, if you are offering. Green preferably, plain, no sugar.”
Arrogant bastard. “You’re ignoring my question.”
“Yes, I am. I must admit with some embarrassment that the guild does not know where I am at the moment, or they might have some rather…awkward things to say to me.” He paused, glancing around. “I see that you have kept busy.”
I don’t say anything. I’m too pissed. He continues looking around. I acquiesce. “Quit that.”
“Quit what?”
“Taking a mental inventory of my shop. You’re not stupid enough to try breaking in.”
“No, no, of course not, just admiring the merchandise.”
"I want one thing to be perfectly clear. If you cross me I'll feed your heart to my cat."
"I have heard stories about that cat...:"
"None of them go anywhere near far enough."
“As you say.”
"Look into his eyes if you can, and tell me they go far enough."
A rather exasperated sigh. "I am NOT here to challenge you OR your feline..."
“Good.” I nod.
“Good.” He agrees.
Confucius say, ‘man with bad attitude deserves broken face’. A Chinese metaphor for a Japanese annoyance, I must be rattled. “What the hell are you here for, Mori?”
“What am I here for?”
“I’m beginning to become annoyed.”
“Just beginning to? I must be losing my touch.”
“Get out.” Jayna stood suddenly enough to tip her chair back on the tile floor where it landed with a clatter. “Get out and don’t come back.”
He smiles, faintly. “I’m sorry. I’m being obtuse.”
“You’re being an ass. Get out.”
“So, you do not want to know what is causing the zombie problem?”
“You don’t know any more than I do.”
“You have yet to ask me what I do or do not know.”
“I’m tired of this game. Tell me or get out.”
He sighed, a small sound like a bird flapping its wings. “Age has not improved your sense of humor.”
“My sense of humor is just fine, thanks. My tolerance for assholes is very short, and my age is none of your damned business.”
“Fine.” He gestured at my tipped chair. “Please, sit back down.” His face is suddenly serious, all business, the teasing smirk and tiny glint gone from his eyes like someone threw a switch. I sat. Damn.
“Before I get to the zombies…” I shoot him a glare. “The two items are related, I promise you.” I tone down the glare but say nothing. His mouth quirks, as if he’s trying to say something difficult or embarrassing.
“Spit it out!” I snap. I’m on my last nerve. Correction, he’s on my last nerve, and he’s tap dancing on it.
“All right.” He sighed again, softly. “Last week I had a rather…how do you say…fucked...individual visit me, trying to gather enough resources to break into your shop. Not many people would be insane enough to try…”
No shit. “What did this individual look like?” As if I couldn’t guess…
“Well, the blue skin was the most defining characteristic, but he also exuded some form of dark energy. It was quite interesting.”
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Interesting was not a word I would use to describe Warren, not in a million years. “Was he alone?” Notice I don’t ask if they got into a fight? How he was still alive? I don’t want to know.
“So you know him.” I nod. He continues with no prodding. “He was alone, but a few hours after that, I had another visitor with blue skin, a woman. She seemed very upset, muttering about zombies and curses and talking to herself. She seemed powerful, too, but in a different way.”
Adrianne had not had blue skin when I had seen her, but she definitely had power, and a penchant for talking to herself. Well, talking to Warren, but the two went hand-in-hand everywhere, so it was most likely her.
Something clicked slightly in the back of my mind. Visitor? “Did you open a shop, Mori?”
He tried to give me an open, innocent smile. It looked forced. I glared at him.
“You did, didn’t you?”
“I wouldn’t call it a shop, per se…” he trailed off. I’d finally managed to make him uncomfortable. Good for me. “It’s more of a storage area that just happens to sell antiques on occasion.”
He smiled again, this time for real. “What can I say, I was bored.”
“You’re not even 500, you haven’t seen bored yet.”
“I hope I never do, then.”
“Enough of this, Mori. What do you know about the zombies?”
“The blue skinned woman that I mentioned was looking for zombie-related artifacts.”
“And…?”
“The power I sensed from her seemed similar to the aura around the zombies I came across on my little journey here.”
“And? Are you going somewhere with this, or are you just wasting my time?”
“And she is waiting down the street at the café on the corner.”
“What?”
“Her name is Jasper. She is something of a sorceress, albeit a somewhat untrained one. I did not have the items she needs to reverse the zombie spell, as far as I can tell, neither do you, but I think it would be in J Street’s best interest if the two of you meet.”
“Tell her to get her ass down here, then. I’m not in the mood for coffee.”
“Given her current problems controlling her abilities, that would be very unwise.”
I give him a glare that should be able to stop time, and he smirks again. Sorceress, bad control, shop full of artifacts all equals a very bad accident waiting to happen. The door chimes and Ciela enters, glances at my visitor, my obvious anger, and starts to leave.
“Cie, perfect timing…will you keep Mr. Mori here company for just a second?” I glare again and shoot him a ‘keep your mouth shut’ look, and he smiles yet again. I so dearly want to wipe that smirk off of his face.
Azangel looks at me askew for a moment but sits down across from Mori, having no idea what is going on but not wanting to argue with me. He simply nods once at her and studies the tablecloth.
I come back in record time, jacket on and pockets full of a few choice items. It’s not that I don’t trust Mori, but, I can’t trust him. They’re both still sitting at the table, quietly, Mori studying the tablecloth, Ciela studying him.
I grab the sheathed sword from where I set it down and gesture to the door. “Let’s go meet this customer, Mr. Mori.” I gesture to Cie. “Put up the closed sign for me, please? Thanks.”
My new least-favorite pest crosses over to the door soundlessly and bows slightly to Azangel, much to my annoyance. “Very nice to meet you, Ciela.”
I close the door and very much wish I had actually mentioned her name in our conversation.