Seal of Solomon (Journeyman Book 2) (14 page)

THE DOOR TO THE
bathroom opened at last and Gage emerged within a plume of steam, dressed in his always tight jeans, a simple white shirt, and fashionable leather coat. The spiky chain plunged down over his front, accentuating the lines of the V-neck and his upper chest, while his hair was a picture perfect mess.

Joey had been waiting for him on the bed, passing the time on the private message boards, debating how to make improvements on banishment wards. He had gone a similar route to Gage with his attire, except his shirt was maroon and it showed of his arms well. They both looked like two studs about to have a great night out on the town, though if both were honest they could just as easily stay in and snooze the entire night away.

“Finally!” Joey exclaimed, putting his phone in his pocket and reaching over for his wallet.

“If ya say it,” Gage warned, complete with a finger lift, “I promise that I will hit ya… hard.”

Joey courageously finished. “Finally, THE Gage has arrived at last, ready to take on the town. So, tell me, was it the hair causing your delay?”

“Oh please,” Gage groaned, punctuated with a stinging delivery of his promise straight to Joey's shoulder, “ya have a lot of room to talk, hogging all the good shit and spending all sorts of time with that mop of yours.”

“Just because you’re jealous,” he replied, rubbing out the soreness; that hurt more than he thought it would. Standing, he made his way towards the door. “You coming big guy?”

“Yeah, I'm right behind ya.”

It was a brisk trip down to Tatum’s. Joey rushed down the street leading the way, all the while regretting his lack of a coat. The chilly blue of the neon sign above the entrance managed to make the night feel even colder, though a gentle rush of heat as Joey pulled on the large handle remedied that.

“I forgot how much further north we are,” he admitted, holding the door open for Gage.

He walked by and casually started to take off his coat. “I didn't,” came his reply along with a smug look.

Joey shook his head and said the first thing that came to mind. “Whatever, fucker.”

Smiling, they were soon through a second set of doors that lead into the surprisingly crowded bar.

“So much for not having anyone in my business,” Gage moaned, the light pedestrian traffic on the way lead him to believe it was going to be a quiet dive. The smells of crafted lager mixed with tangy wing sauce helped reduce his annoyance, as did the classic rock that rode over the ambient chatter. The walls were lined with old school, chunky big screens, casting a technicolor haze across the packed house.

Joey snatched Gage's coat out of his hand and quickly made his way for an empty high-top table in the back. Gage on the other hand, eyed an attractive blonde working the bar and headed that way. When he got there, he propped a boot up on the rail and leaned against the counter, scanning the vast array of liquor.

The bartender had been restocking some bottles when she noticed him; how could she not? He was easily the biggest and best looking thing to come in the place over the last six, maybe even seven, months.

“Hey there!” she said, setting two bottles of vodka down before resting her hands on the counter. “It's been forever since I've seen a new face in here.”

“Good thing it’s a pretty one then,” he said with a half smile.

She giggled as a hint of pink touched her cheeks. That was exactly what she had been thinking. “Oh a charmer, too. Aren't you the total package? So, what do I call this pretty face of yours?” She extended a hand across the bar. “Name’s Beth. Beth Tatum.”

“Gage,” he replied, gently grabbing her hand and giving it a light peck.

“Chivalrous too. Aren't you full of surprises. Great name, by the way.” She paused for a moment to admire him, especially those broad shoulders that made his shirt scream. “Great everything. So, are you looking to start off with anything in particular?”

“Lemme see, darlin’,” he said, rubbing on his beard. “I’ll take a glass of merlot and a Long Island.”

“You got it,” she said, producing glassware from behind the bar in record time. “Prefer well? Top shelf?”

“Surprise me.”

While waiting, he surveyed the area casually and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Mainly people were having a good time with nothing particularly nefarious or demonic to put a damper on the mood. He continued to pan around, stopping when he saw a bearded man opposite them in a dark corner of the room. Something about him seemed different than the rest and his body language said that he was particularly bothered about something.

The first thing Gage looked at were the eyes. They were human, without any telltale demonic characteristics. Despite that, he thought the man looked out of time in his fancier clothes and brown newsboy cap, yet still had a modern flair with his abundant piercings. He was hectically flipping through a stack of loose papers, searching for something.

Beth had returned and set the drinks down, smiling. Gage went to pick them up and the Long Island, brimming with alcoholic goodness, overflowed across the counter. Looking down at the mess, he spied the receipt; on it there was no charge and a phone number written neatly across the top. He glanced back up, giving Beth a passing wink as he slid the strip of paper into his pocket.

“Thanks, gorgeous,” he said, turning back to find Joey. He spotted him a few seconds later and moseyed over through the masses.

“Here ya go my man,” he said, holding out the wineglass. “Merlot okay?”

“Perfect,” Joey said as he held it prior to swirling the liquid around and taking a long sniff. He really loved wine, almost as much as Gage did liquor.

“If the wings here taste as good as they smell then watch out. I'm thinking of getting some if they have boneless,” Gage said as he moved to lift his glass for a nice, cold drink. It had made it just inches off the table when the voice of a troubled woman boomed over the music.

“Leave!” she shouted to someone sternly. “Seriously! Go!”

Gage searched for the source of the commotion, finding a table of three women nearby. A very drunk man stood uncomfortably close to them, obviously the source of their woes. They continued jeering at him, while his replies were nothing more than incoherent ramblings.

“Yeah, get the hell out of here, creep!” another woman shouted, finally having enough. She threw her entire drink down the front of his clothes and he stumbled backward, barely managing to keep himself upright.

Once stable, the man raised a flimsy hand in response, as if he were going to strike her down with all the power of a pillow.

Gage sighed and set down his glass, taking a few strides over. He reached out and grabbed the man's arm right as it flopped down, stopping it dead.

“Is there a problem here, ladies?” he asked.

“We’re just out trying to have a nice night,” said the youngest, slightly upset, “celebrating my twenty-first.”

“Oh happy birthday to ya,” Gage replied, trademark smile in effect.

A deafening belch ruined the sentimental moment. They all turned to catch a glimpse of clear fluid dribbling from the drunk’s mouth.

“Yeah
trying
to,” said a shorter brunette, “and so this drooling douche canoe rolls over here perving. He won't take the hint and leave us alone!”

The one who threw her drink chimed in, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yep, he’s been here for fifteen minutes straight trying to feel us up.”

Gage shook his head, though he could definitely see something appealing in all the women there. “I'll take care of this, ladies. Alright, come on buddy,” he said as the guy struggled to get his arm free. “I think it's time we left these lovely women alone to enjoy the rest of their night.”

“Thank you,” said the brunette, along with admiring nods from the others.

“But my wife told me it was okay to talk to the womens…” the man slurred, his breath reeking of whisky and sick.

“That's nice, Jack,” Gage dubbed him while providing direct escort to the exit.

“She’s probably waiting up for me…”

“The wife? Oh I'm sure she is bud.” Gage wondered why so many damn people had to be in his way, preventing him from dumping this loser and getting back to his drink.

The guy ended up mumbling some more indecipherable jargon, scattered amongst a set of painfully loud hiccups. His next words, clear as a bell, came out of left field. “I’m a… doctor you know… a cardiolooooogist.”

Gage shuddered at the thought of some poor soul being operated on by this guy, drunk or lingering over them with a killer hangover. He could visualize scalpels, stethoscopes, and other medical devices being left inside the unsuspecting patients as parting gifts. Surely it was just the booze talking and this guy was just an accountant or a salesman. Yeah, he seemed like a salesman, and by the time they reached the chilly bite of outside air, Gage had convinced himself that was the case.

“Bye!” Gage yelled, letting go of the man’s arm. “Now go get some sleep and sober up for God’s sake.” Gage turned away, taking a few steps back toward the entrance but then unexpectedly spun around with face scowling, pressing a finger deep into the man’s chest. “Oh, and if ya ever think about raising your lil’ T-rex arms to a woman again, especially when I'm around, be prepared to have a big handful of something other than your arm broken off.”

With that, Gage gave him a forceful push and left, leaving the man to shuffle on his own before falling to the sidewalk in a stupor.

Back inside, Gage cut through the crowd and made his way straight to his table. There he grabbed up the expectant glass and half the drink was downed in no time.

“Shit like that really burns me up! Some guys have zero respect for others,” he cursed before noticing they had company. It was the bearded man from before, who had come over and sat in the empty chair next to Joey; his papers had now taken up residence on their tabletop.

Gage set his glass down with a gentle
clink
and gave the man an intimidating stare, expecting those eyes of his to flick shades at any moment. Yet, the man didn't seem too bothered; Gage supposed he must not have known who they were, which was a good thing. He planned to keep it that way.

“I know who you are,” the man said, his voice upbeat. He pushed up the brim of his cap to get a better view and shifted in his seat. “I'm Marcus Sheridan and let me tell you what an absolute honor it is to finally have met…”

Oh God, he's going to say it isn't he?
Joey thought, grabbing his wine for a quick guzzle. His shoulder twanged and he immediately started to give it a soothing rub.

“…the legendary Gage Crosse!” Marcus concluded with a vigorous shake of his hand. “Your reputation proceeds you by QUITE a long distance.”

“Does it now?” asked Gage, still suspicious of the guy. Face unchanging, he crossed his arms and puffed out his chest to twice its normal size. “To whom?”

“Whom, or is it who?” Marcus pondered. “Oh who cares.” He started to chuckle uncontrollably, showing signs that he was a touch smitten. Not with Gage though; his eyes drifted over in Joey’s direction way too often.

For goodness sake, pull yourself together man!
he screamed at himself
.
Here he was, someone who'd faced down the stony faces of the Council numerous times, yet a young field Journeyman was causing his composure to unravel in a totally undignified way. He was enamored, having heard so much about Gage but not a whisper about his partner. He’d have to find out more of course…

Later man! Don't you have a question to answer?
His face flushed bright red when it dawned on him that he hadn't answered yet.

“Oh gosh, my apologies!” he stammered, scrambling for an explanation. “Meeting you here in my little watering hole after having such a shitty day has been great, but my brain’s addled. Going back to your question: it’s the Journeymen. I work at the New York offices.”

“Oh, Headquarters?” Joey asked, his eyes widening like a kid.

“Indeed!” Marcus answered, equally as excited. “Have you guys been there yet? I gather not, since the place would likely have exploded as soon as Gage stepped through the portal.”

Realizing what he said, he shot a look over to Gage with an expression of fear, mixed with several layers of apology. “Not that you would have
literally
blown the place up… I don't think. Ugh. No offense.”

“None taken,” said Gage cooly, but with an undertone that still managed to make Marcus feel puny. However, he finally lowered his arms, alleviating some of the tension.

Joey laughed at the exchange between the two of them.
“Nah, we only just got up here earlier today. I agree with you though, Headquarters just isn't ready for Gage’s charming persona.”

“Oh good!” Marcus sought to change the subject to get attention off of himself. “Aren't you guys normally in Texas? That's become vampire central in the last year, but you've done a great job with the clearings. So, what actually brings you guys all the way to – ”

His voice trailed off when he saw the chain dangling over the ridges at the base of Gage’s neck. “Ah,” he said in wonderment. “Is that?

“Is that what?” Gage asked, crossing his arms again.

“There's no reason to play dumb, Gage. You're with an ally right now. Is the amulet and chain the reason you've come?”

“Yes,” answered Joey, drawing Marcus’ attention. “We actually came here to talk about it with Om Citta. Any idea who he is?”

Marcus’ eyes kindled at the mention of his name. “Oh yes… I do!”

“That's great,” said Gage, warming up a little. His arms dropped and he took a couple more long sips of his Long Island. “Dad had left me a note, his last one, written right before their…”

“I know,” Marcus said, looking down into his glass of melting ice. He would have tapped Gage's hand, but both were still drawn up tightly over his chest. “Your parents were good people, my friend. Nobody deserves to be treated like they were in their final moments.”

“Thank you, Marcus,” Gage continued solemnly. “Om’s name was mentioned a couple of times. Dad hinted there was a possibility Om would know something about the artifacts or what's going on with the demons. I really hope he does, or did, but when we went to Front Street earlier, we didn't see any indication he was there, nor had been for some time.”