Cold Fortune

Chapter 6

"He's down by the docks, pier twelve." An older man, perhaps in his sixties, spoke first, and Ezekiel watched Nelson shoot mental daggers at him.

"Hey man, I'll take my chances with Jonas before I let him take that thing out of its sheath. I may not be one of them, but I've heard enough stories to know that once that thing," he pointed to the sword laying on the table. "Comes out of its sheath. People die, lots of them, and there is nothing anyone can do about it but him." The man nodded to Ezekiel.

"Smart man, for that Morrigan here will have to go hungry," he patted the sword." Unless that is, one of you wants to get stupid." Ezekiel glanced at a man to his left who had begun to reach inside his jacket.

"If that hand comes out with anything in it, you're the first to die."

The older mans gaze locked on the young dark-skinned youth.

"You idiot! Do you have any idea what that thing is?" He took two steps and slammed his fist into the man's stomach, doubling him over so his face slammed into the table.

"That's the drinker of souls, you stupid little shit." He grabbed the back of the man's head, holding it pinned to the hard wooden surface. "If that blade slips from its scabbard even an eight of an inch, the drinker is loosed. She is unstoppable. Once let loose, she will feed on anyone nearby until her hunger is stated. If you cross the carrier, a fool you must be. For there is nothing you can do when Morrigan comes for thee."

"Ha, I haven't heard that one in ages." Ezekiel laughed. "But he is correct," he picked the sword from off the table and walked towards the door. "Thanks for the info. If asked, I have no idea who told me where Jonas was hiding." With that, Ezekiel backed towards the door. It always paid to be careful, especially with men such as these.

The door hit something hard and bounced back before he was through. Acting on reflex more than conscious thought, he threw himself away from the door just as a huge hand reached around for him. Even before he was back on his feet, he was calling.

"Hey, whoever you are, I am not in the mood for this. Just let me leave and I'll be out of your hair." He made a beeline for the front door but before he reached it, his path was blocked by another side of beef on two legs.

"Do you really think we're going to let you near Jonas? That little piece of steel doesn't scare us, little man." The one near the door stalked towards Ezekiel while the other one that stood in front of the door moved towards him as well.

Morrigan, I have a piece of meat for you. Enjoy." Whipping his coat out of the way, he drew his sword in one smooth motion.

An unearthly silence fell over the entire bar. Even the sounds coming from the jute box seemed muffled until they could no longer be heard.

"I warned you. Now all of you will know why I'm called the carrier."

The man who had been trying to block the door stopped in his tracks not two steps from Ezekiel. With a gasp, his hands snapped to his throat, his eyes budged out, and a short wheezing gasp escaped his clenched jaw.

The man coming up behind Ezekiel faltered when he saw his companion stagger and sink to his knees. He clawed at his throat, but there was nothing his fingers could touch. In a few quick seconds, the skin of his face and neck began to turn grey, then white, with black veins snaking up his neck. A green cloud exploded from the huge mans mouth as he fell onto his side, convulsions taking hold of his entire body.

With one last shuddering body quake, a quavering last gasp slipped from between blackened lips, and the body began to collapse into itself. Seconds later, there was nothing left but a pile of ash surrounded by crumpled clothes.

The man now behind him began to whimper. With a sob the hardened thug went for the door.

"Please, call it off. I didn't know who you were. Jonas didn't warn us about anythin like this. Please, I'll do anything!" His voice rose to a frantic pitch as he stumbled and fell to the floor.

Within seconds, the man was nothing but a pile of dust, the same as his companion.

"Too late." Ezekiel's voice floated through the room. Everyone in the bar heard it, yet none of them the same way. It lilted on the air as his voice melded with Morrigans. He scanned the room one last time before sliding the blade back into its scabbard.

"Now I would bid you all a good day." With a flourish, he bowed to the scattering of people and exited the bar.

I only wanted one of them dead. I thought that would be enough to back everyone off. He hissed to Morrigan.

Hey, you know what I live on. I may not need to feed as much as you do, but when I do, I like to be full when I finished. I'd be like you eating just one potato chip.

At least you stopped at two, thanks.

I can't have them coming after you with pitch forks and shovels now, can I. Not that they can kill us anyway, but they could really put a crimp in our freedom if they found out what you truly are.

That's why I don't like you feeding in front of so many people. If one of those drunks can remember past their hangover tomorrow morning, we could be in trouble. Ezekiel walked back across the street and to the parking garage where he'd left his truck. Minutes later, he was on his way out of the city.

Picking his cell phone from off of the passenger's seat. Hitting Nancy's number, he waited for her to pick up. When it went to voice mail, he hung up and dialed again. He knew she wouldn't let it go to voice mail more than three times, most cops he knew wouldn't. After the third try, she finally picked up.

"This had better not be who my caller ID says it is, or I'm going to kill you once I'm awake enough."

"Oh detective, you wound me, you threaten me without knowing why I called?"

"Right now, I don't care why you called. It's four in the morning and I have to be at the precinct at six thirty. Which means I relish my sleep and you're disturbing, said sleep."

"But I know where Jonas is hiding."