Mask Gaze, Page 2

  After Tarlia had recruited me as her shadow agent, I had gotten access to UNICORN at a very high level, which had come in handy numerous times. I suppose I was technically only supposed to use it for Tarlia’s work, which this wasn’t. Then again, if an unknown wizard was spying on me, that might be a precursor of an attack. Someone might try to murder Tarlia’s shadow agent just to get at the High Queen.

  As the shadow agent in question, I wasn’t about to let that happen.

  So I did a run on Karl Stack to see what I could learn.

  I found him after a short search. Karl Stack, age forty-six, of Springfield, Illinois. He was indeed a licensed private investigator. He was also a retired member of the Wizard’s Legion, the High Queen’s elite magic-wielding human soldiers. Wizard’s Legion officers tended to serve for decades, so I wondered why Mr. Stack had left. A cursory examination of his records revealed that Stack had gotten into an altercation with a superior officer. He had avoided getting court-martialed but had been told in no uncertain terms to leave if he didn’t want to lose his veteran status.

  I shifted my search to the records for his private investigation agency. Most of his payments came from Duke Xanthyr of Springfield, which meant…

  Aw, hell. Stack was probably Xanthyr’s shadow agent. Some of the Elven nobles had been annoyed that a human had gotten the license to import fruit from Kalvarion, and wanted to see Moran Imports fail, and fail hard. So far, there hadn’t been any overt attempts at sabotage, at least not since I had slapped down Arnold Brauner. It helped that Duke Tamirlas of Milwaukee supported the company, and most of the Elven nobles didn’t want to cross him.

  I checked some more, and the rest of Stack’s income came from Louis Bruno Enterprises of Springfield. Louis Bruno I did know – he was Duke Xanthyr’s shadow councilor and controlled the organized crime of Illinois. And Illinois was notoriously crooked, with a history of governmental corruption that predated the Conquest and that never seemed to get stamped out. Bruno had his hand in every kind of crime that could turn a profit without making too much public trouble. In fact, when I had still been Morvilind’s shadow agent, I had sometimes fenced stolen goods through Bruno’s people in Springfield.

  It wasn’t as if Morvilind had ever paid me, and my bills weren’t going to pay themselves.

  But I think I could see what was happening. Duke Xanthyr wanted to see if he could disrupt Moran Imports, but the company had a royal license to operate, and inferring could be construed as an insult to the High Queen. So, he had delegated that task to Bruno and Stack, and Bruno hired Stack as a cover. Best case scenario, Stack found a way to force the company to shut down. Or Xanthyr found a way to force us to pay some of our revenues to Bruno, which would then make their way into Xanthyr’s coffers. I wouldn’t put past Bruno to find a way to do it. Illinois politicians were adept at trying to dip their fingers into revenue generated outside the state, and Bruno owned a bunch of politicians.

  I closed UNICORN, put my phone away, and changed from my pea coat to my motorcycle jacket, setting my helmet next to my computer. I turned my attention back to the paperwork, letting my mind chew on the problem as I worked. I had mostly come to a decision about how I was going to handle Stack.

  About two hours later, Strauss called my desk phone.

  “Boss, he’s back outside,” said Strauss.

  I turned in my chair and looked out the window.

  Hell. He had even parked in the same spot.

  “Go out and make a fuss,” I said. “Threaten to call the police and report Stack to the Illinois licensing board. Don’t make any threats, though. He’s got a recorder in his van and will sue us if you make any explicit threats. Once you scare him off, I’m going to follow him.”

  “Got it,” said Dan, and hung up.

  I tucked my phone and gun into my jacket, picked up my helmet, and walked through the warehouse to the main doors. As I left the building, I cast the Occlusion spell. A Cloak spell could turn me invisible, but it took a lot of power and concentration, and I couldn’t maintain it for much longer than twelve minutes. A Masking spell disguised me as someone else, but if I got too close to Stack, he would probably sense it. The Occlusion spell, by contrast, was far simpler. It made me…unremarkable, unnoticeable. Stack would see me, and I simply wouldn’t register in his brain. If I did anything violent or surprising, the spell would collapse, but if I didn’t draw attention to myself, he wouldn’t notice me.

  I walked outside and climbed atop my motorcycle. I rode a Royal Motors sportsbike, black with orange highlights, and the weather had just gotten warm enough that I was comfortable taking the bike out again. December in Wisconsin is no place for a motorcycle. Wrapped in my Occlusion spell, I sat atop my bike and waited as Dan marched out and confronted Stack. A heated five-minute argument followed. At last, Stack started his van and drove off, and Dan turned to head back inside.

  That was my cue. I fired up my bike and followed Stack’s van.

  ***

  Chapter 4: Business Negotiations

  Under other circumstances, I really would have enjoyed the ride. Motorcycle riding was one of the few things I did that could count as a hobby. It was an overcast day, so it was a bit chilly, but I had gloves and a thick coat, and I didn’t have to worry about overheating in the sun. Holding my Occlusion spell in place, I followed Stack into Milwaukee proper. He stopped at a chain motel not far from the freeway, the sort of place I had stayed at countless times over the years. Stack got out of his van and headed into the building.

  An Occlusion spell wouldn’t be enough, so I released it and Cloaked instead. I pocketed my motorcycle keys, left my helmet on the seat of my bike, and started across the lot, intending to follow Stack into the motel. I kept a dozen paces behind him and walked past a parked car.

  And as I did, I saw who was parked inside the car and hesitated for a half-second.

  Two men sat in the front of the car, both burly and middle-aged and dressed like football coaches. One of them was smoking a cigarette, the other was playing a game on his phone. I recognized the man with the cigarette. His name was Bart Schmidt, and he worked for Arnold Brauner as a bodyguard and an occasional enforcer. You could say a lot of things about Brauner, some of them unkind, but the man wasn’t anywhere near stupid. If he realized that someone working for his rival Louis Bruno was prowling around Wisconsin, Brauner might take drastic action.

  Stack could be in trouble.

  I thought about it for a second, decided to change my plan, but kept following Stack.

  Stack went through the lobby and into the elevator, and I trailed him. I squeezed myself into the corner of the elevator, but that proved to be unnecessary since no one else got on. Stack rode up to the third floor, and I followed him down the hall to his room. He let the door swing shut behind him, and I slipped through before it clicked closed.

  The motel room was uninspiring – beige carpet, two double beds, a desk, a corner chair, and a bathroom. I darted past Stack, moving in silence, and seated myself in the corner chair, still holding the Cloak spell. Stack, for his part, put his gun and wallet on the nightstand between the bed and went to the bathroom.

  He didn’t bother to close the door. Ugh. I heard more than I really wanted, and wondered what the hell he had eaten for lunch. Holding the Cloak spell was easier when I was motionless, and I took slow, deep breaths, keeping the spell up and waiting.

  Stack emerged from the bathroom, buttoning up his jeans as he did. I waited until he had walked past the nightstand, past where he could easily lunge for the gun, and I dropped the Cloak spell.

  “You really need to eat better.”

  Once again, I had the satisfaction of seeing him flinch, this time almost jumping into the air. Stack froze, looked at me, looked at his gun, and then back at me. I saw half a dozen calculations flash over his face, and he decided to do the smart thing and stay where he was.

  “You know, I’d heard stories about you,” said Stack. “I wasn’t sure if they were tru
e or not.”

  I shrugged. “People can think what they like about me.”

  He smiled. “You came alone into my hotel room. What should I think about that?”

  For God’s sake. “You should think about some bad decisions you’ve made. I know why you’re here. Louis Bruno hired you to check out Moran Imports.” His expression didn’t change. “I also know that you’re a wizard and that you’re Duke Xanthyr’s shadow agent.” That made a muscle near his eye twitch. “At a guess, I think Duke Xanthyr is annoyed a human got the license to import fruit from Kalvarion. He either wants Moran Imports shut down, or he wants a slice of the revenue. He told you and Bruno to figure it out, and so you came up here for a little scouting trip.”

  “That’s all supposition,” said Stack.

  “Yep. But it’s right on the mark, isn’t it?” I leaned forward. “I don’t like hurting people. I’m going to give you a chance to back off. Go home and tell your boss that it’s a bad idea to mess with Moran Imports.”

  Stack offered an easy smile. “Sorry, little lady, but I can’t do that. Duke Xanthyr and Bruno want a slice of the revenue, and they’re going to get it.”

  “No, they’re not,” I said. “You know by now that we’re not paying any of our revenue to Arnold Brauner. As the shadow councilor of Duke Tamirlas, he should have found a way to do it. But he didn’t. Want to guess why?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” said Stack. “Brauner’s losing his touch. He’s getting old and fat. In the old days, he’d have owned most of Moran Imports by now and installed his people in the management. He’s letting things slide, and it’s time for Bruno to step in.”

  “For God’s sake,” I said. “Do you really think that’s what happened? Brauner backed off because I scared him off.”

  Stack looked incredulous. “You?”

  “Yup.”

  Stack snorted. “Forgive me if I don’t believe it. You’re spooky, but you’re not scary enough to make someone back down from millions of dollars in revenue a year.” He paused. “Unless you’re Brauner’s side piece.”

  “For God’s sake,” I sighed.

  I suddenly realized the problem with my plan. Stack was not that bright.

  “I didn’t have Brauner pegged at the sort to cheat on his wife, but people surprise you,” said Stack. “Look, Mrs. MacCormac, I’m afraid you just can’t pull off the intimidation routine.” He took a long step towards me. “Especially when I can do this.”

  He summoned magic and cast a spell.

  I had already summoned power and prepared a Shield spell, but Stack didn’t attack me, not directly. Instead, he cast a Seal spell. A symbol of blue light appeared on the floor, filling most of this side of the hotel room. I recognized it at once. It was a Seal of Warding, and no spells would function within it. I suspect the Elves had created the spell long ago to control criminals since all of them could use magic. The collar that Arvalaeon had used to capture me worked on much the same principles.

  Except this Seal was much weaker. I could feel the edges of it with my mind, and I knew I could break it without much trouble. But I didn’t want Stack to know that.

  “I figured you might try a spell, and I was ready for it. You shouldn’t walk into a strange man’s hotel room, Mrs. MacCormac,” said Stack. “You never know what might happen.”

  “I agree,” I said, and reached into my coat and leveled my revolver at him before he could react.

  Stack blinked, uncertainty going over his face.

  “You’re not very good at this, are you?” I said.

  Stack struggled to think of an answer.

  Right about then, the door swung open, and Bart Schmidt and his friend walked inside.

  Both of them had guns, and both men held their weapons leveled at Stack.

  ***

  Chapter 5: Hardball

  I saw them coming in before Stack did, and I cast the Cloak spell. My will punched through the weak Seal of Warding with ease, and the magic flooded through me.

  I disappeared from sight, and Stack’s eyes widened. But he blocked Schmidt’s view of the chair, and neither of Brauner’s men noticed that I was there before I vanished.

  “Hi, Karl,” said Schmidt. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Turn around, slowly. Hands in the air. And turn off that wizard light. We know all about your tricks.”

  Stack raised his hands and turned, slowly. The Seal of Warding winked out of existence.

  “Hey, Bart,” said Stack. “Hey, Phil. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “You shouldn’t have come back,” said Schmidt. “Mr. Brauner’s people at the state tollbooth called him as soon as you came up. Mr. Brauner doesn’t like troublemakers in the great state of Wisconsin. He warned you the last time you were here, and he’s out of patience. Get on your knees.”

  Stack hesitated.

  “On your knees,” said Schmidt, his voice soft. “Unless you want a hole shot in your kneecaps.”

  Stack scowled but dropped to his knees. The second man, the one named Phil, reached into his coat and produced a stun pistol. I also glimpsed a syringe in his interior pocket.

  Ah, hell. They were going to kill Stack.

  Arnold Brauner, by and large, was not a violent man as gangsters went. He preferred to use persuasion and bribery when possible, and that almost always worked. When that failed, he turned to coercion, and only then did he resort to more violent methods. But he was perfectly capable of ordering someone killed, even if he did it infrequently, and I suspected that Stack’s body was going to get weighed down with a couple of cinder blocks and dumped into Lake Michigan.

  Come to think of it that would solve my problem nicely. Once Stack disappeared, Duke Xanthyr and Louis Bruno would assume that Brauner hadn’t lost his edge, and that would be that. I just had to sit here and do nothing, and Brauner’s goons would take care of my problem for me.

  But I didn’t like killing people.

  I repressed a sigh and got to my feet, tucking my pistol into my coat.

  “What are you doing, Phil?” said Stack, eyeing the stun pistol.

  “You were warned, Karl,” said Schmidt. “You were told not to come back to Wisconsin. You really should have listened.”

  I eased past the confrontation and took position behind Schmidt and Phil.

  “Okay,” said Stack. “I’ll leave right now. This doesn’t have to get violent.”

  “This isn’t gonna get violent,” said Schmidt. He nodded to Phil. “It’s going to be easy.”

  Phil aimed the stun pistol. Once he zapped Stack, likely he would inject him with something to knock him out. The drug might kill him, or it might not. Then they would drive to the lake, sail far enough out, and dump him.

  I dropped my Cloak and cast the mindtouch spell, my hand clamping onto Phil’s shoulder.

  Stack’s eyes went wide, and I sent my will hammering into Phil’s mind. I dumped a few decades worth of my memories of the Eternity Crucible into his skull. Phil’s eyes bulged and he screamed, his body going rigid. The normal human mind could not handle those memories, and Phil’s brain would shut down to protect itself. The net result was that he would fall unconscious for a few minutes, and then wake up with no memory of the last half hour or so.

  Phil collapsed, and I turned to Schmidt. He had finally reacted and was starting to turn, so I cast a spell of telekinesis. My mind shoved him, and he bounced into the wall with a curse. Before he could recover his balance, I stepped closer, seized his temple, and used the mindtouch spell to dump dark memories into his skull.

  Schmidt shrieked once and collapsed to the floor.

  I turned to Stack, who was still kneeling, staring at me wide-eyed.

  “What did you do?” he said, eyeing me like he expected an attack.

  “Some stuff,” I said. “Okay, you’ve got one last chance here. Get in your van and go home right now. Schmidt and his pal will wake up in about five minutes, and they’ll have no idea what happened. They’ll figure you used magic to es
cape, and so long as you stay in Springfield, they can’t come after you.” I leveled a finger at him. “And you’ll tell Bruno and Duke Xanthyr that it’s not smart to make trouble for Moran Imports. Get on your feet and leave.”

  Stack hesitated, looked at the prone forms of Phil and Schmidt, and nodded. “Okay.” He got to his feet, retrieved his gun and wallet, and headed for the door.

  Halfway there, he paused.

  “You really need to get going,” I said.

  “Why did you help me?” said Stack. “You could have let them kill me, and it would have cost you nothing. Brauner wouldn’t even have known you were involved.”

  “I don’t like to kill people,” I said.

  He stared at me like I had started speaking in a foreign language.

  Okay, I would have to make a more obvious point.

  I gestured, and six lightning globes spun around me, sparking and sputtering. “Besides, if I was going to kill you, I would do it myself.”

  Stack finally took the hint and got the hell out of Wisconsin.

  I Cloaked and closed the door to the motel room behind me so no one would see Schmidt and Phil until they woke up. I thought about erasing the security recordings but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. I had parked out far enough that I wouldn’t show up on the cameras, and I had been Cloaked the entire time I had been in the public areas of the motel.

  Time to go home.

  ***

  Chapter 6: How Was Your Day?

  I headed back to Moran Imports, and I met Riordan and Russell in the office.

  “There you are,” said Riordan. My husband was a big man, a good foot taller than I was, and his shirts were usually tight against his chest and upper arms. Not that I minded. He wore his heavy wrap-around sunglasses, since his Shadowmorph made his eyes far more sensitive than the human norm.