Shifting Life

38. The Receiver

Gabe the geek opened the door for the Visionary and let him into Nev Craven's small dungeon-like basement apartment.

The Visionary ignored Gabe like he was air.

"Why are you still here? I summoned you an hour ago."

Craven knew he'd been summoned. The need to obey zigzagged his mind like a pinball with no outlet. He'd spent the last miserable hour trying to get a black shirt on so he could go. Gabe had offered to help, but Craven couldn't stand being dependent on the geek. It was bad enough Gabe had saved his life by calling in Veronica. The consequences of Veronica meddling were more dangerous than Craven could deal with right now. He allowed himself to be in full denial till he'd healed.

Craven used one hand to get the hair out of his face. A searing pain deep inside his chest made him freeze halfway through the careless movement. For a moment he couldn't breathe, much less get up from the worn old leather chair where he slumped.

Craven glared at the Visionary, his former master. A man who expected formality. A man who expected to people to rise when he entered. A man Craven needed to keep reassured that all was fine and dandy.

Craven leaned heavy on the chair to get up. It took more effort than he wanted to admit. Glass' heart beat like a caged bird in his chest. Craven fought the urge to throw up at the thought of the filthy old man's tissue locked deep inside him. On cue, he felt the scab tear on the wound on the abdomen.

Great.

The Visionary noticed the weeping gash.

Craven dropped the unused shirt on the floor. There was no point in wearing it now. He carefully moved to the empty bookshelf at the back of the room.

"What happened?"

"I ran into something."

Craven picked up the dagger that was not the Vonandi dagger and slowly walked back to the Visionary. He dropped the blade to the floor between them. "This," he said. "I ran into this."

If the pain didn't kill him, his anger might.

"What happened?" the Visionary repeated.

"Craven plunged the Vonandi blade into the back of the Rider, but the Rider wore the Mirror Coat," Gabe said. "None of the scriptures mention that option. I've checked. Craven was speared."

"What's he still doing here?" the Visionary asked Craven.

Gabe answered,"I saved his life and now my boss makes me keep an eye on him."

"Leave."

"Fine, I'll go make tea," Gabe said and shut his laptop. "Want some?"

He asked Craven, not the Visionary.

"Get the fuck out," Craven groaned.

Things kept getting worse. The geek was growing on him.

Craven waited till Gabe had left the room.

"What brings you here?" he said.

"The beast brought hellfire to my home," said the Visionary. "To my home!"

Craven listened to the Visionary describing what had happened.

"I can't see what they took from the collection. It's all ashes."

"Was there anything they could use to get away?" Craven said.

"No, nothing," said the Visionary. His chest rose and sunk in shallow breaths.

They'd gotten under his skin, that much was obvious.

"The first fire was just to draw you out then?" said Craven.

"Apparently. Is it important?"

Craven tried to focus, but between the pain and having himself to blame a cursed blade had cut through his demon flesh in the first place, his thoughts were like cockroaches trying to hide from the light. More than anything he wanted peace, darkness and to be left the fuck alone.

"Craven means they didn't come for you." Gabe said, returning with two steaming mugs.

He placed one on the bookshelf.

"Leave us," the Visionary demanded.

Gabe blew on the tea in his mug before cautiously taking a sip with full pouting lips.

He made a good job of looking young, fresh-faced and innocent, Craven noted. Gabe was getting the Visionary riled up on purpose. Veronica couldn't have anticipated any of the latest developments. The geek must have his own agenda.

Gabe shot Craven a quick blank glance before turning to the Visionary.

"Get over yourself," he said. "There was no hellfire. They didn't come for you. They didn't come for your precious collection. This strike wasn't about them."

Gabe sat his ass down on the chair's arm rest. It was the only chair in the apartment. It was Craven's chair. Maybe it wasn't just the Visionary Gabe was out to piss off.

"Craven wounded the beast with the blade before he tried to kill the rider," Gabe said.

"It was just a nick," said Craven.

"Like yours?" said Gabe.

Sarcasm, native language of geeks.

"What are you getting at?" the Visionary said.

"It's a known fact you own the Vonandi blade," said Gabe. "This was payback. You hurt them, they hurt you."

"Wasn't your point that they didn't hurt him?" Craven said.

Gabe raised an eyebrow. He took another sip and sighed with feigned satisfaction. He studied the ceiling for a while.

If it didn't hurt so bad to move, Craven would have wrung his neck right there.

"Look," Gabe said. "Fire isn't the Venetian's M.O. This is different. Emotional. Horses emote."

"They what?"

"Operate on an emotional level," Gabe clarified.

"The beast is the Herald of Doom," the Visionary fumed. "Not a horse."

"With all due respect, sir. I've seen the beast. She's a horse alright. A horse your man Craven cut with a cursed and poisoned blade. You pissed her off. She hit you where it hurt."

"I'm right here," the Visionary said proudly, "untouched."

Gabe met his gaze.

"You acquired your collection object by object over decades. You went through a great deal of trouble, even sacrifice, to find some of those priceless things. You've used your collection's magic. It play a big part in why you are feared and respected. The collection is part of who you are. Well, who you were. Your reputation just burnt to a crisp."

"I am far more than my collection," the Visionary intoned. It sounded more like a threat than a promise.

Gabe the geek didn't flinch. "With a name like yours, don't you think you should have seen them coming?"

The Visionary closed his lips tightly. He fell silent.

Eventually he spoke to Craven. "Track them, find them, bring them to me."

"Are you going to kill the Herald of Doom?" Gabe asked. "How?"

The Visionary pursed his lips till they were a thin hard line. "I'll emote."