6.03
“Power comes with a price. Believe me on that,” Nick said. “Now, speaking as the owner of a shitty little store out in the middle of nowhere, that means the power has value. What we do, we’re bartering with that power. Sometimes you come out a little ahead, sometimes you don’t. You can change it around, work in different currencies, different kinds of power, you can give currency for goods or services, or give up goods and services for currency.”
The city seemed darker than it should have been, as I watched out the window with half-lidded eyes. My allies were in the back seat, Evan was perched on the dash, watching the road.
“You can invest it, and you can be in debt,” Nick said. “Blake here is in debt, in more ways than one.”
“How come?” Alexis asked.
“My family dug themselves into a deep, deep hole,” I said. “By inviting you guys in, I may have dug myself a little deeper.”
“I was going to say you cut yourself open and bled your currency out to pay someone or something,” Nick said.
“That too. You’re close enough,” I said.
“You did that to yourself?” Alexis asked.
I turned around in my seat to look at her. Tiff wasn’t here, so it was only Alexis and Ty in the back. The other Knights were in a car that followed behind us. Alexis had the book on protections in her lap, while Ty had the Essentials tome, his attention apparently on the very last few pages. The appendix?
“It’s complicated,” I said.
“You said the police did it.”
“You did,” I said. “I didn’t correct you.”
“You lied to me.”
“I can’t lie,” I said. “And neither can you. Be fucking careful.”
“Wait, did I just fuck something up?”
“You were technically correct, because I have lied to you in the past. But be careful. I misled by omission, because it was probably going to make things worse if I started rattling on about rituals and ritualistically reducing my personal footprint to evade the cops, or about Rose, who I mentioned just a bit ago…”
“Yeah. I get it. But it kind of sucks to hear that you played me.”
“It sucked to have to play you. Which is why I told you,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said.
Evan piped up, “She understands but she’s still mad?”
“Evan,” I said, “It’s cool. Subject handled, more or less.”
“I’m not mad,” Alexis said. “I’m disappointed.”
“But you understand why he did it?” Evan asked.
“Evan,” I said.
“Yeah, I understand,” Alexis said.
“But-” Evan started.
“Evan,” I said. “We don’t have a lot of time. Drop it, please?”
“Okay,” he said. He turned around to look out the front windshield again.
“I need a smoke so bad right now,” Alexis muttered.
“You were talking about power, Nick?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s a gamble. People like me and my family, we don’t play with a lot at stake. You could say we did, once upon a time, and we paid the price. The rules here, they’re old. They predate modern society. Reach back to days when you had kids because many wouldn’t make it to adulthood. When girls were bartered off in marriage. People are currency, and we lost our people. You be careful with yours, Blake.”
“You’re supposed to be helping them figure all this out, not me.”
Nick raised one eyebrow, but he went on. “Three ways you build up power. Blake has one, maybe two?”
“Just the one,” I said.
“You buy a property, demesnes in our world, and you hope it’ll appreciate in value. You cross your fingers that the shelter and comfort it offers you, the status and recognition in the eyes of your peers will add up to the investment paying for itself. With me so far? Good.”
Leonard-in-a-bottle rested between my feet. I also had a hammer I’d marked with a wind rune, as a dim replacement for June, and I had the demon’s arm.
Nick went on. “You can pick an implement, too. Your tool of the trade. There are no takebacks. Everything matters, when you make your choice. The style of it, the history, the type of item, the purpose it’s meant to serve, the symbolism…”
“An object?” Alexis asked.
“Like a wand,” I said, “Or a dagger…”
“Any restrictions?”
“Has to be something you can hold in your hand, or hands,” I said.
“I know what I want to use,” she said.
“This is the part where I’m supposed to tell you that it’s a major commitment, that you don’t jump into something like this.”
“Yeah?”
“But I’d be a hypocrite,” I said. “After jumping into this with Evan here, and I think I know what you’re talking about.”
“The custom iron,” Ty said, looking up from his book.
“Yeah,” Alexis said. “It’s had a place of prominence on a shelf over my home kit for the last while. It’d be great to put it to use.”
I nodded.
“Custom iron?” Evan asked.
“Old-fashioned tattoo gun,” I said.
“Oh, cool!”
I’d be worried about corrupting the kid with the smoking, swearing, tattoos and motorcycles, but he’s already dead, and it sort of pales in comparison to the terminal violence, demons, and the magic ritual bullshit.
“That’ll have to wait,” Nick said.