Gideon Page 17

  “What if he delivered the message to the queen?”

  “That could work. If he’ll agree. He has to get her over to my lab first thing. Don’t want her running into the Director until I’ve had a chance to spin my web.”

  “I think she’d trust that more than coming from a bot she doesn’t know.” Gideon was heartened by Manfred’s nod.

  “Gideon, trust me, she knows all about bots. She’s no dummy, and she’s been around a lot longer than you have. I say we use Francis.”

  Francis was feeling considerably better by morning when he awoke. Gideon and the clockmaker changed his bandage, double-checked his quickie repair and trussed him like a rib roast so his remaining wing wouldn’t interfere with their operation. He reluctantly agreed to the plan, since he was still bearing guilt for Persephone’s abduction.

  “You give her this map. Very detailed instructions here, and tell her to follow it to a tee or she’ll get in more trouble than she’s ever experienced before.”

  Francis tucked the paper into his pocket and finished dressing. His stiffness attested to his recent operation, but he moved quickly enough to avoid any unwanted attention.

  Manfred loaded up suitcases of parts and a few mechanical bugs in glass jars. “Nice thing about these is you don’t have to put holes in the top for them to breathe. Keeps them silent, too.” He held up his array of oddities, stuffed them in a metal footlocker and said his goodbyes.

  “Remember, you tell her I’ve sent a transport for her, so she’ll travel safe. I’ve marked the depot on the other side of your map so she can easily find it. She can take as many pets as she wants to pack in there.”

  “Got it,” Francis answered.

  “Gideon, somehow, I’ll get you word. Stay out of the Underworld if you can and let me get your army going so you’ll have protection. Since they have your Guardian, they shouldn’t be as interested now, until they get bored.”

  Gideon winced.

  “Use your vampiric weapons and the little stinger I gave you. We’ve got a chance. But remember, every plan comes off the wheels at some point, so don’t go glum or disappear on me. I may need you to do things up top.”

  “Agreed. Who minds the shop?”

  “Anyone dumb enough to try to break in or get too curious will get a surprise of his lifetime, just before he’s eliminated. He or she, I should say. Immortal or otherwise.”

  “Gotcha. I’ll stay away, too.”

  “That would be smart. One more thing, Gideon. I have the address of someone I want you to contact.” He handed him a slip of notepaper scrawled with a name and address. “This guy knows a lot about the Underworld, and the only dark I’ve seen who was pardoned.”

  “Who is he?”

  “A human.”

  “So how can he help me?”

  “I dunno. Just thought he might have a suggestion or two.”

  Manfred placed his trunk in a large delivery truck that stopped by the alleyway behind the shop. He secured the locks and whispered something to his bot swarm, which slipped under the threshold again and peered back at him through the glass door as if they were waving goodbye. He stepped into the cab as a passenger and was off.

  Francis and Gideon walked back toward town.

  “You sure I can’t give you a lift?” he asked his Guardian friend.

  “Nope. Today I really need to do it this way. I just hope she finds me at the inn.” They shook hands. “Hope this works, Gideon.”

  “Well, I’m going to keep trying until I know the queen’s gone permanently. As long as Persephone is alive, I’m going to try to get her back.”

  Francis nodded.

  “One thing, if you run across those dark things with the red belly, Manfred said they couldn’t breathe fire unless they’re airborne. Just remember that. On the ground they are more vulnerable. Use this if you have to.” Gideon handed Francis one of the two palm-sized laser stingers Manfred had given him. It attached to the wearer’s wrist with a strap that looked like a watch.

  “Wow. Never fired one of these.”

  “Wish I’d had one yesterday.”

  “Water under the bridge, Gideon. Hope the clockmaker is able to find Persephone and somehow let her know we’re working on a plan.”

  Francis boarded a local transit bus that would take him to the Valley of the Moon and drop him off at the inn. Gideon considered his choices, and decided to go back to his Healdsburg estate, since he’d not been there since the brothers had met their demise two days earlier. Checking the skies, which remained grey and bulging with storm clouds and rain, he flew, trying to stay cloaked.

  Once back in his vineyard estate, he felt safer. Maybe it was the familiarity that was soothing to him.

  As he walked through the front door, he could still smell the remnants of the cleaners Francis had used. The place was spotless, and there was no scent of death, or all the blood that had been spilled.

  Upstairs in the bedroom, he noticed his shower door had been repaired. The bed was changed, the coverlet removed. Even the area rugs were replaced with new ones he liked. He fell back onto the bed and registered even the pillows were new. No scent of Ashley was anywhere. Nor his Guardian. Nor the Red Queen’s brothers and their demise.

  He was grateful for the sleep, which came quickly. He could worry. He could fret and cry his eyes out, but what had moved the universe was so large that he felt powerless to fight it. He needed to rest and rejuvenate, and then he’d go see the human the clockmaker wanted him to meet. Placing the paper on the nightstand, he then changed his mind and left it in his pocket in case he had visitors.

  He sighed into the pillows and the soft bed. He’d stopped feeling prepared and ready for the next huge surprise. There had been so many surprises over such a short period of days that, for the first time in his life, he was really exhausted.

  And it had nothing to do with sex.

  How refreshing!

  Gideon woke up with a start. The wind was still blowing, making the windows rattle. At every bolt of lightning he jerked. The power of the Supreme Being, perhaps his anger, was fully demonstrated. The old man still had it on everyone else for size and scope of drama, like Heaven was the lid on all the action below, controlling everything. Keeping the Universe just manageable enough.

  His appreciation for the old SB was improving, he noticed. Gideon respected that he’d been left alone to figure things out. But he had no doubt SB himself could fix anything he wanted. And it wasn’t because he didn’t care, it just wasn’t his way. He’d have to give it to the Supreme Being. He was certainly consistent.

  He wondered if it bothered him his Guardian was captured. Or was it that he expected Gideon would be able, somehow to rescue her? For the first time, he began to see that perhaps there was a plan for him after all. SB wasn’t going to come to his aid. Gideon would have to live and die with his own choices and the wisdom of his research.

  But there was still so much to know. The only thing left to do was not take her abduction too personally. It had nothing to do with taking her away from him. It was about two things. First, claiming back his life and the seat of his soul. Second, fulfilling his promise to her to protect and be with her for all eternity, or to die trying. If he could keep the anger from what he felt he’d been robbed of from his thoughts, he could think more clearly and capture the next opportunity without being so distracted he’d miss it. His focus was therefore most important, no matter how his heart was aching. That’s how Persephone would be, he mused. She’d be making plans, strategizing. That’s what she’d learned so well in the Guardianship, where it was taught that everything was always possible. Gideon had never gotten that lesson and always doubted the “Big Plan,” as they called it.

  He was concentrating on receiving a message from Francis, but that wavelength was still dark. Then tried a connection with Persephone again, and found the same result.

  Gideon searched for the paper that had Manfred’s friend on it, and decided to visit the man. Locking up his
house, he wished he had some gnat bots or a Tabby or two to watch and be his spies, as he flew off to the town of Santa Rosa, not more than a few miles away in search of one Joshua Brandon.

  The vintage neighborhood contained grand homes from the glorious days of the eighteen hundreds, painted ladies with expansive yards and stunning gardens meticulously maintained. The streets were twice as wide as any others in the town. Though the houses were on properties considered oversized, they were nowhere near the acreage he was used to in Healdsburg. Still, it had an order to it, something that looked very normal and inviting. Not a trace of dark angels, red and black creatures that breathed fire and tore angels and other humans from limb. He doubted there’d be a single bot, or at least not one he could recognize.

  The front door on Mr. Brandon’s home contained a stunning stained glass window, filled with heavenly pictures of cherubs, clouds, and old SB himself, or at least a likeness of him that Gideon thought was fairly accurate. Was this human man protected, somehow?

  The gentleman answered his door, sniffing the air as he greeted his visitor. They did not shake hands, and Mr. Brandon crowded the crack in the door, not opening it wide and invitingly.

  “I’ve been sent by the clockmaker, Manfred,” Gideon greeted. “He thought you could help me with some of my questions.”

  Brandon was dressed similar to some dark pirate, his clothes were various shades of grey and black, his boots extended to his knees like he’d been riding. His jet-black hair was pulled back in a ponytail and secured with a leather strap. But it was the man’s eyes that were most notable, the darkest he’d seen on a human, almost like he was peering into bottomless pits devoid of any light or color.

  “Manfred, huh? I thought that old guy would be dead by now.”

  “He’s immortal. Surely you know that,” Gideon answered. He watched as Mr. Brandon’s eyes found some sparkle. A smile lifted his upper lip on the right.

  “Well, I think this conversation should be held in private, then.” He swung the door open to allow Gideon to walk into a massive walnut paneled living room, sporting a fireplace as large as his own. Brandon searched the street in both directions before he locked the door behind them.

  “You like some brandy? Or has Manfred gotten you hooked on Red-X?”

  “Nothing, thank you.”

  “Very well. Sit.” He pointed to a pair of large red leather chairs similar to his own, sitting across from each other before a roaring fire.

  “We appear to have the same decorator, Mr. Brandon,” chuckled Gideon.

  “These are crocodile. I doubt you have these. I killed them myself, back in my old days.”

  Gideon was hesitant to sit down on the pelt of a living animal.

  “They’re harmless. You sit on leather every day, if you drive a car, I presume.”

  He allowed his fingers to feel the beautiful patterns the ridges of the reptile hide held. “These creatures are miracles. I’m showing respect.”

  “I deserve some, my good man. They were difficult to trap, and kill.” Brandon was testing him, and had already taken his seat, crossing his boot over one knee. He waited for Gideon to sit before he would speak again.

  “What brings you to my doorstep?”

  “Forgive me, I’m Gideon, friend of Manfred the clockmaker.” He leaned across the distance between them and Joshua Brandon gave him a very firm handshake.

  “You are?” Gideon knew Brandon was asking him what species he was without being too obvious in case that had to be a hidden topic of conversation.

  “How about you, first?”

  Brandon patted his chest. “Last I knew, I was just an ordinary man. I work. I’m an art collector and dealer in antiquities. I live alone and I like it that way.”

  “Man, as in human man?”

  “Yes, last I checked. Do you know something I should?” Brandon grinned.

  “And in your former life, I understand you had another bodily form?”

  “I try not to discuss my pedigree. Especially since I do not know yours and you come unannounced. I’m not sure if we can be friends, and you said your name was…?”

  “Gideon. I am, or used to be a Guardian.”

  Brandon let his eyebrows rise.

  “I was human at one time. Turned to vampire. Saved to become a Guardian and banished to be a Watcher.”

  “That’s a rather checkered past.”

  “And one more. I rebelled, so became a dark angel.”

  “What was the reason you had to do so much penance? Sounds like you made some powerful enemies—in several worlds.”

  “Not at all. I’m just trying to be me.”

  “You and Frank Sinatra. Didn’t work for him, either. Except the song.”

  “I actually met Frank Sinatra years ago. Before the Guardianship trip. My maker had designs on him.”

  “As did most the females in the world. Guardian, dark, or otherwise.”

  “There are those who have that effect on women. I understand you’ve had a checkered past as well, Mr. Brandon.”

  The two paused, staring into each other’s eyes without expression.

  “Some would call it life. Others fate. I haven’t figured it out as of yet. I guess that means it’s not over, then.” Brandon exchanged boots, crossing the other one and adjusting his torso. “What are your questions, human-vampire-Guardian-Watcher-dark angel?”

  “I prefer just to be Gideon. My questions go to the heart of my description. I mean, I have so many ‘bloodlines coursing through my veins’ as I’ve been described, I’m confused.”

  “Any Father intervention?”

  “Not really. Except the Watcher designation. I have a Guardian. A beautiful Guardian.”

  Brandon was deadly still before he leaned over and stared into the fireplace. When he looked up, his face was telling. “Whom you fell in love with, is that it?”

  “Yes. Not proud of it.”

  Brandon shrugged. “Not sure it’s anything to feel ashamed of. Many of them are gorgeous. Their innocence is intoxicating.”

  “You sound as if you understand.”

  “Oh, I understand, but as for my own life, I tried to capture many of them before. I was largely successful, too. Redheads. Loved the redheaded ones.”

  “Ah! The best!” Gideon answered before he could stop himself.

  “I turned a number of them before my religious conversion. But I can almost forget how it felt since I have been single for a long time. I take it your experience is rather recent?”

  “Yes, two days ago.”

  “Wow, you got right in there and pounced, didn’t you?”

  Gideon winced and didn’t like the inference. He was sensitive about feeling he was too old for the grace and beauty of Persephone’s flawless body. “I am afraid our association has turned dark, possibly deadly.”

  “Meaning?”

  “She has been captured by the Dark One. Manfred is trying to orchestrate a rescue.”

  “He’d best keep to bot making. Branching out is not suited to him.”

  “I must admit I think he’s rather fond of her as well, although she would never be, well, I trust her.”

  “You probably can trust her, but not him. I say this with all due respect, as his friend.”

  “But I think it speaks to his motivation.”

  “Just be sure you don’t get in the way, Gideon. He is a worthy adversary, but against all the forces of evil in the Underworld? There isn’t a being alive, even Father, who understands how it all works. Lots of moving parts.”

  “As he’s said.”

  “You know that any plan you make will fail. If you succeed, it will be something you didn’t count on. It will surprise not only your enemies, but you as well. Trust me on that.”

  “He’s making me an army of warriors to protect us. That assumes we are able to rescue her.”

  “We?”

  “My Guardian friend, Francis, Manfred and me, and his bots, of course.”

  “You think an army of
bots will destroy the Dark One’s power? Hardly.”

  “Perhaps distract him until we can get her safely away.”

  “You do know the only safe place is in Heaven?”

  “Yes, and if I could do that, I would, believe me.”

  Brandon flicked a feather from the heel of his boot. It was a white one, similar to one of Francis’s. “Admirable. Not many could say that. It’s that selfish side of being dark, or a vampire, or human, that part that comes out strongest when it comes to moral values. Your Guardian side is probably recessive.”

  “You’re probably right. Harder to be good?” offered Gideon.

  “Easier to be bad?” Brandon teased.

  “Well, one of the two. Maybe each person is different.”

  “Very perceptive, Gideon. Well, I think if you have Manfred’s help, you have some chance, then.”

  “Well, there’s the other problem. In leaving my position as Guardian-Watcher, I caused a mild catastrophe regarding the Golden Gate Bridge.”

  “That was you?”

  “The one and only.” Gideon bowed.

  “Quite the statement.”

  “Probably a huge mistake. I got mixed up with a bot I thought was human. My actions caused me to lose my white wings. But I haven’t traveled to the Underworld as of yet.”

  “And you shouldn’t. It will in all likelihood kill you.”

  “Yes, so Manfred has told me. But to rescue my Guardian, if it comes to that, I must. I will not rest until I have tried everything within my power.”

  “Which is your problem, Gideon.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You have no power. Everything you’ve got is mixed up. I’m sure Manfred explained this to you.”

  “He did.”

  “So what can you do?”

  “You mean, what powers do I still have?”

  “Precisely.”

  “I can fly. I can trace. I have given in to the blood lust I was denied for some fifty years as a Watcher.”

  “An enhanced human who can fly, then. No telepathy? You can’t disappear?”

  “No.”

  “And your angel lover, did you damage her in your coupling?”

  “Her wings are light grey, tinged with a light rose. The most beautiful and unusual pattern I’ve ever seen. But nothing else that I can tell. She has her dust. She can heal. She has telepathy with Francis.”