WnW 5.3

Sullivan’s bodyguards parted the gyrating masses, clearing a path that only stayed open for a few moments. Limbs covered in golden body glitter brushed up against me as the strobing lights allowed only the briefest moments of unintentional eye contact from the dancing club goers before being replaced by some other person, as if the crowd was a conglomerate whole, this being of a thousand arms and legs underground. A heavy beat pulsated through the space while a woman’s sultry voice was played like an instrument by the DJ.

The people that had come with Sullivan mixed with the crowd, some of them heading towards the bar while some random partiers in the crowd decided that they were going to find out where this important looking man was going.

A woman caught my eye as she hastily downed a drink, egged on by her friends. The liquid glowed under the blacklights, drops spilling down her front and onto her top that made it look like a glowstick had burst onto her clothing. She looked up from the finished drink and smiled with teeth that glowed a ghostly cyan.

A hand rested heavily on my shoulder. “Where are we going?” a voice asked.

I turned to see a tall woman leaning on me. She had makeup on that glowed orange-yellow like there were cracks in her skin that showed the lava inside her.

“Nowhere that you want to be,” I said as my eyes followed the splatters of spilled drink that still glowed faintly on the floor.

“What?” she shouted in my ear.

Nell eyed her with suspicion.

I took the woman’s hand off of my shoulder. “You don’t want to follow him,” I said, gesturing to Sullivan and shaking my head to get the point across. “He’s a bad guy.”

“Oh yeah?” she said with a smile. “What’d he do?”

I just shook my head and tried to step away from her, but she leaned forward, almost stumbling. A whiff of alcohol made my throat tighten.

“Easy there,” a familiar voice said, taking the woman by the shoulders and leading her away. 

I shot Zola a grateful look. At least there was one familiar face in this mess. He was looking handsome in a long sleeve shirt and slacks with a gold chain around his neck. His gloved hands lightly moved the woman away from our procession.

Eventually we made it past the dance floor and to a set of stairs that led to an upper level that overlooked the rest of the club. 

More staff from the club were keeping this area reserved, but they let us through after a quick indication from Sullivan.

At the far end there was a table where some people already sat. I immediately recognized one man, leaning back in his chair with sunglasses resting on his head. Louis, the leader of the Red Ring, saw us and bared his teeth in a smile. Three others sat at the table: a man with a wide face and tattoos that curled like flames around his eyes and cheeks, a woman with short hair dressed in a black sleeveless turtleneck who had a large rosary around her neck, and a gray-bearded man who sat in a wheelchair that had glowsticks tied to the spokes. 

Sullivan approached the table with arms wide. “It’s been some time since I saw all your sorry faces at the same table.”

Louis raised his drink. “Sullivan! Here I was thinking you would send a delegate like the last time. I suppose the Old Town is too dirty for your constitution.”

Sullivan didn’t bat an eye at the barb as he seated himself at the table. The man with face tattoos was staring at Nell and I intensely. I shifted awkwardly, realizing that most of the others in Sullivan’s crew had seated themselves at a distance, including Zola.

“I take it the others have already told you to keep a lid on your Shape, Louis?” Sullivan asked lightly.

Louis raised an eyebrow and sat back. “Not much point, is there? Everybody is already drunk or getting there.”

“Speaking of,” Sullivan said, gesturing to his entourage. Some of the women approached, bringing drinks on trays. “I’m friends with the owner. Drinks are on the house.”

The man in the wheelchair laid a hand on the hip of one of the women, who didn’t shy away and instead sat on the armrest and served him his drink.

The tattooed man didn’t break his stare even as a green glowing drink was placed in front of him. He spoke in a deep voice, “I know what you are, girl. Don’t try any of your magic on me or things won’t end well.”

“Big words for the biggest bitch in the Old Town,” Louis snarked. “The Eyes are constantly ducking me. Afraid they’ll lose, Deon?”

The man’s intense stare finally flicked away from Nell. “Your methods attract the Goblin the same as a bear smelling fish guts. I won’t lose men for no good reason. While you charge around making noise, I gain purchase in your territory. It’s strategy.”

“Enough,” the woman said, fist clenched tightly on the table. “Sullivan, you need to explain what is happening. We can’t be dialing back the businesses at this point without good reason, we’re losing money.”

Sullivan wet his lips with a clear liquor and set the glass down gently. “Quite possibly our worst fear has been realized. Fedyaev has deemed it necessary to join with the Jiezhi in seizing control of the city. It is only thanks to the individuals I employ that we can have this conversation at all.”

The man in the wheelchair scoffed. “They wouldn’t work together if it meant they could own every city in Canada. Trust me, I’ve been doing this for much longer than you, Sullivan. It doesn’t happen. They are too diametrically opposed in their methods.”

The woman tapped the table with a long fingernail. “No. We’ve seen a massive uptick in weapons being seized by law enforcement in the past week. Fedyaev’s been willing to lose a lot of men and money by being so reckless. And if what you said about the Jiezhi is true…”

Sullivan nodded. “Printed guns. Enough to arm every mook with working hands and then some. It isn’t a question of how or why, it is when.”

Louis placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “So we have a shoot out on our hands? Suits me just fine. It’ll be like back in the day when the Ring split. Oh, right, I guess you weren’t around back then, eh moneybags?” He said, taking another shot at provoking Sullivan. “Well, Deon knows. Even Mrs. Holier-than-thou knows. The box gets shaken and the biggest cockroaches climb to the top. It’ll be fun. Nothing to cry over.”

“It won’t be the same,” Sullivan said firmly. “Back then it was a free-for-all. This is a united effort to squash us all, even those who aren’t in the spotlight,” he stated, eyeing the two at the table who didn’t seem to be part of the Rings.

“I can’t risk a monopoly like that,” the woman said. “It’d be bad for business.”

“So what would we have to do?” Deon asked, shifting his wide frame in his seat, his heavy brow making his eyes two pits of black under the soft lights. “I suppose you would want us to work with you?” he asked accusingly of Sullivan. “Or is this coercion? With your newfound weapons?”

The woman’s eyes flitted nervously over her shoulder at us. “So it’s true? A Shaper who can warp flesh with their mind?”

“It’s true,” Sullivan said. He turned in his chair to look at us. “But I know coercion is the path to betrayal. Go sit with the others.”

I was happy to comply, taking a few steps back before realizing Nell wasn’t budging.

“Nell,” I said quietly.

“I’ll stay,” Nell said firmly. “I want to hear about the fate of the city. And it doesn’t matter if I’m standing here or over there, the distance doesn’t hinder my abilities.”

The man in the wheelchair chuckled and eyed her up and down. “How much would it take for you to come work for me?”

Irritation flickered on Sullivan’s brow. “Fine. But you,” he said, eyeing me coldly, “leave us. You don’t need to be here.”

I reluctantly backed away, leaving Nell with the table of criminal leaders. The second Nell sent me a signal through our connection, I’d be at her side.

I moved a chair so I could sit facing them and sat down, feeling a sense of foreboding brewing in my gut.

Someone blew air into my ear and I nearly fell out of the seat.

The tall woman who had done it laughed heartily, clutching her sides.

“You again,” I said, glaring. “Get out.”

“Come onnnn,” she said playfully. “They let me in with the other girls. I know this is where the good stuff is. You’re cute, I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I don’t have any drugs. Go bother someone else.”

She squinted drunkenly and pointed. “Hmm? Maybe the bad man over there has some?”

I caught her wrist before she could go towards them. “No.”

“What are you so afraid of?” she asked, placing her hands on my shoulders.

“You,” I said before I could think straight. “I mean-”

She laughed again, her sour breath making me feel vertigo, like she was holding me over the edge of a cliff.

“Ugh, I wanna get high,” she said, tilting her head back.

“You’re gonna get hurt.”

“Fine by me,” she said, the playfulness leaving her voice. Her hands dropped off my shoulders and she walked away, back towards the dance floor.

I met Zola’s eyes. He shrugged and made an apologetic face.

I exhaled and went over to him. “Enjoying the show?”

Zola clasped his hands in front of him. “I remember one time I had a similar reaction when a woman tried to kiss me suddenly. I did not want to cut her.”

“I’ve seen how careful you are. I don’t think you would.”

Zola gave me a wry look. “You may be right. But I also did not want to scare her. My Shaping affected my mouth. It feels different now.”

I stared at the drinks on the table, the different colours blending where the glass overlapped. “I feel like that shouldn’t stop you from looking for love.”

“Coming from the man who can shapeshift,” Zola said.

“Coming from the person who can’t seem to figure anything out,” I said, sighing.

Nell was saying something to the table. We watched without really knowing how it was going.

“You know,” I said, “The very first time we met, I had the thought that your nails were really cool looking.”

Zola gave me a tight-lipped smile. “That is kind of you.”

“No, really. I thought the colour was so iridescent.” I splayed my own fingers, concentrating on growing as thin a layer as possible over the nails. I wasn’t at the point where I could change myself like Nell could, but experiencing that moment with the Crowman had certainly given me some hints.

I showed Zola my attempt, clacking the bone nails together. “Not even close to the right colour.”

Zola pulled one of his gloves off to compare. The pearlescent hue glowed marvelously in the blacklight. “I appreciate the effort,” he said quietly, staring at his own nails.

“Hey!” one of the guards shouted.

We both turned to see that a person had fallen onto the meeting table, her hair spilling out over the surface.

Fuck, how had she gotten past again?

I raced over. Louis was chuckling, while the rest looked in the range of unamused to furious at the interruption. I grabbed her and pulled her upright. Her head lolled, hair plastered to her cheeks by sweat. She looked at me with half-lidded eyes. “You came back,” she mumbled.

“What is this?” The rosary woman leaned over the table to pick up something. She held it up to the light. Glass, but not for alcohol. It was a vial. As she tilted it around, I saw a flash of the needle, retracted into a compartment in the base.

My skin went cold.

Sullivan quickly swiped the vial out of her hand and wheeled around in his chair. His eyes swept over the room, as if searching for someone who was out of place. Then he thrust the vial at me.

“Deal with it,” he hissed.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Nell looked between the half-conscious girl and me, pulsing concern.

“Witch, you were interrupted, but I want to hear more,” Deon said, slapping the table lightly. “Continue.”

“R-right,” Nell said, giving me one more look before turning back to them.

I dragged the woman away from the table as she giggled and said something about rose coloured glasses. Zola came to my side and I showed him the vial. His face paled.

“What are the odds she turns into an Aberrant?” I asked, practically lifting her up by her armpits as we walked awkwardly towards the stairs.

“I do not know. I have seen it twice before.”

“Fuck! There’s too many people around.”

“The bathroom.” Zola pointed.

I dragged her over to the doors lit by neon strips. There was a long lineup outside of the woman’s room. I moved towards the men’s.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” one woman shouted at me.

“She is sick!” Zola shouted back over the din. “My friend here is a medic!”

We barged into the room where a man quickly got out of our way. 

“Everyone out! Emergency!” I shouted.

Zola ran over to the stalls and banged on them.

One man ran out while another responded from within with slurred cussing. “I’m shitting here!”

Zola glanced around before slashing his fingers across the door, creating peeling shreds of aluminum, the shorn metal shrieking.

The man scrambled out from underneath the stall, hands holding his pants up as he ran.

The bathroom was now vacated and I laid the woman gently onto the floor. 

“Go make sure no one sees this,” I said. Zola nodded tersely and left.

The woman was shivering now. Her eyelids were fluttering.

“Hey,” I said, gently patting her face. “What’s your name?”

“Cinthia,” she breathed.

“Who gave you the vial?”

“Iunno.”

“What did they look like?”

“Everyone,” she said, suddenly staring at the ceiling like she was seeing a beautiful night sky. “I’m so thirsty.”

I stood and went to the sink, turning the faucet on. I tried to cup water into my shaking hands, splashing it everywhere. Something moved in the reflection of the mirror. I spun around.

Cinthia had stood back up. Her eyes were fully open now, staring at me with a serene expression. Her mouth hung slightly open, like she wanted to say something.

My wet hands slipped as I tried to steady myself on the sink. My heart pounded furiously in my chest. “Are- are you feeling better now?”

She nodded.

I was allowed a half-second of relief before a line appeared on her face. It ran from her scalp all the way down her nose, past her lips and chin, moving down her neck until it disappeared from view under her clothes.

Then she split in half.

I fell to the floor, feeling like I had just gone blind. I couldn’t see anything but a hazy blur. Vomit rose in my throat. The sound. Like a meaty velcro being pulled apart. Bone hooks untethering from their hold. I heaved the contents of my stomach onto the tile floor. Then the sound ended, my ears were left ringing. My panting breaths were the only thing I heard as I stared at the floor, realizing that I could see.

I forced myself to look. Slowly. Tile floor. Then a hand. Following it up to the arm and…

Half of a body bisected down the middle, one eye staring straight at me. There was barely any blood.

Then came a scratching sound, like a knife being dragged across a chalkboard. I kept my eyes low, looking for the other half.

I found it, a bare foot, still standing. What.

My eyes rose up the body, clothes hanging in tatters over her. Half of her was standing, supported by what had emerged to fill the void left by the separation. Yellow bone shone, practically metallic. A skeleton of sharp points, the ribcage where the ribs were all intertwined with one another in a gnarl. Where the bones met, where there should have been connective tissue and tendons, the bones seemed to be fused together, welded by a glistening gold material. The leg ended in a sharp point, jittering along the tile, scratching a white line across it. Her face looked the same, frozen in a serene expression with her makeup peeling at the point she had split. The new half of her face was a mottled gold shell, a spiral pattern like a mollusk that ended at the center, where a yellow eye viewed the world for the first time.