CHAPTER II
Sovereign
The rain was coming down hard, making the edge of the rooftop perilously slippery. The woman who stood balanced there was attractive, with long brown hair and soulful eyes. Her green dress was drenched and clung to her athletic form in the most scandalous way. It wasn’t something that Morgan Watts felt good about noticing at a time like this but he was a heterosexual man and it was impossible not to take notice.
He took one tentative step towards her, trying not to worry about the fact that he was wearing a brand new suit. It was going to be ruined after all this but in the end, his fashion woes paled next to the possibility of a woman dying.
“Stay back!” she shouted, swaying slightly. She held her arms out to help keep her balance but Morgan’s heart still swelled up into his throat.
“Come towards me,” he pleaded. “No matter what’s gone wrong in your life, there’s no reason to do this.”
The girl bit her lower lip and looked down at the street below. A crowd was gathered, comprised mostly of police and emergency workers but there were plenty of gawkers, too, even in the middle of the downpour. Inspector Cord, one of the few honest cops in Sovereign, was down there. He’d given Morgan the green light to come up and try to talk the girl down. Morgan wasn’t sure if it was because of his reputation for sweet-talking pretty girls or if Cord just genuinely had faith in him.
“I saw in the papers about the others,” she murmured.
Morgan nodded, knowing what she was talking about: six suicides in the past four days, all with victims that shouldn’t have had any reason to end their lives.
“What’s your name?” he asked, sliding a bit closer. He was still too far away to grab for her.
“Beth… Elizabeth, really, but everyone except my dad calls me Beth.”
“I bet he’s going to be so sad if you fall, Beth. Don’t do that to him.”
Beth looked up into the rain and Morgan thought she was crying from the way her shoulders moved. It was impossible to be sure since there was so much wetness already on her face. “I’ve always seen things, you know? Things that I shouldn’t.”
“Did you see something bad, Beth? Is that why you’re up here in the rain?”
“Yes.” She turned and looked at him, freezing him in place. Her eyes looked haunted and he was reminded of soldiers who had returned from The Great War, shattered inside in ways that made their physical health a secondary concern. “Sometimes I have dreams of things that come true. I wonder if the others saw it, too. The same monstrous things I did, I mean.”
To most people, those words would have sounded insane. But Morgan was a member of Assistance Unlimited and, alongside Lazarus Gray, he’d seen enough weirdness to last several lifetimes. “Whatever it is that you saw, I can help you. That’s what I do. You’ve heard of Lazarus Gray, right? I work with him.”
“He’s going to fail. They’re all going to fail. And then we all die.” Beth closed her eyes and lowered her head. “I’m too much of a coward to wait for it to come. I couldn’t bear that… horror.”
Morgan saw her foot lift off the roof’s edge and he called her name in sudden horror. He lunged towards her, arms outstretched, but it was too late.
He made it to the edge and peered over, seeing her body tumbling down. She twisted at the last minute, her face now turned towards his.
Her expression was one of relief.
She smiled at him… and then she hit the ground.
Samantha Grace had rarely seen Morgan look so deflated. He was seated in one of the offices located at 6196 Robeson Avenue, home to Assistance Unlimited. He had a warm blanket thrown over his shoulders and he was holding a steaming cup of coffee in his hands but she could see that he was shivering in his wet clothes, which he’d refused to take off.
The pretty young blonde was one of Sovereign City’s most sought-after figures, not only for her head-turning good looks but also because her family was so well known. More than just a shapely débutante, Samantha was skilled in multiple languages and was capable of besting men twice her size in unarmed combat. None of that was as useful to Lazarus Gray as her ability to sense the emotions of others and make them feel better about their situation. It was a natural gift and one that came in handy on an almost daily basis.
“You did all you could,” she said, taking a seat beside him. She put a hand around his shoulders and rubbed his back. Once upon a time, she knew that he’d carried a large torch for her, but eventually they’d developed a sibling-style relationship that suited them both.
“There’s something weird going on,” he replied. “Those visions she was talking about… I don’t think she was crazy, Samantha. There’s something to it.” He paused and then added, “I never told you everything that I saw during that affair with The Claw[1] but it… it was pretty awful. And I’m afraid that this might be tied into it. There are terrible things out there and they’re just waiting for the right moment to strike. Nightmarish things.”
Samantha could see how much it pained her friend to even discuss what he’d seen in the vaguest of terms. “Lazarus is supposed to be back from his honeymoon in the next day or so. We’ll tell him all about it and I’m sure he’ll know what to do.”
Morgan shrugged off her touch and stood up. “She was barely twenty-five years old.”
Samantha said nothing for a moment, letting her friend pace and stew. When she did speak, she asked, “Do you want to get started on the answers without waiting for Lazarus? No reason why we can’t get the ball rolling.”
“How do you recommend we do that? He’s the one with the connections to the supernatural community.”
“I’m not entirely helpless in that regard,” she said with an enigmatic smile.
“I’m not in the mood to play guessing games,” he said. Though the words sounded testy, Samantha could see that he was glad to have some forward momentum again. He was looking at her very hopefully.
Rising, Samantha moved to the door and said over her shoulder, “Let me make a phone call. Five minutes tops, and then we’ll have all the help we could ever need.”
Gifted was the name given to humans that possessed the natural ability to tap into the most primal forces in existence — the stuff that normal humans called Magic.
The Catalyst was the High Mage of his era and generally only one existed per century, though their reign sometimes varied in length and occasionally overlapped. They could be recognized not only by their power but by a peculiar uniform that went along with the responsibility of wielding that much magical ability: an emerald set of clothing that changed appearance with the times but always bore a similar look.
The Catalyst of the last century had been Andre Thierry and he still occupied that role at the present time, though he knew that he would soon turn the power and the title over to another. In fact, one could argue that he should have done it already. After all, he had died back in 1903.
Kept mobile by the power of his own will, Andre had continued to defend the world since then but his abilities had waned and there were days when he looked so dusty and dry that he thought he might blow away in a hard wind.
He was old, so ancient that his shoulders were bent forward as if they’d carried a large weight for far too long. He was also a Creole, born and raised in Louisiana. His skin and hair were such that he could never pass for a white man but neither did the Negroes accept him.
A man of two worlds, he had often been called, generally by people who had no idea just how true that was.
Recently, he had traveled to Sovereign City on two different occasions. The first had been to help Lazarus Gray combat the twin threats of The Three Sisters and the immortal Princess Femi. The second had been a happier time, as he’d helped provide an appropriate level of protection for the wedding of Lazarus and his longtime love, Kelly Emerson. Since then, he’d returned to New Orleans and enjoyed a bit of respite from the usual craziness that defined his existence.