Chapter 7: Consequences

Chapter 7: Consequences

Callum was a wreck for the rest of the day. Not because it had been hard, but because it had been easy. So easy. Terrifyingly, horrifyingly easy. He was a terrible newbie mage with all of three or four tricks and hed destroyed the vampires and their thralls. If he lost his mind and went on a rampage, there wasnt a single mundane in the world who had a chance against him, and he was just starting to learn.

It was almost enough to make him understand the restrictions GAR put on mages, but fortunately after a few hours of showering some semblance of sense returned. The only reason hed gotten away with it was because their mage had been stupid and careless, the defenses were geared against shifters, and because he had a completely safe area coincidentally close enough to actually reach. In the real world, he couldnt fire a gun off willy-nilly even if he could displace the bullets a hundred feet away.

When the adrenaline high finally left him, he actually fell asleep in the shower, only waking up after he had exhausted the tank and the water turned cold. He tried crawling into bed but slept only fitfully, starting awake every time a car drove down the road. By the time he dragged himself out again it was evening and he was feeling a little more human, but there was still a tight knot in his stomach that he couldnt do anything about.

Callum went ahead and burned the clothes that hed been wearing, though it wasnt likely that anyone could track them. In fact, it was far more likely that hed be traced through one of the Langleys spilling what happened than it was from some forensic investigation of the scene. There wasnt much he could do about that.

In fact, in hindsight, it would have been far better if he could have taken care of everything without going down to that basement at all. Not that he regretted saving Clara one bit, but it would have been far better to agree, leave, and do things out of sight from everyone. He wasnt sure how he could have gotten Clara out of there without teleporting her, but if hed done it somewhere other than the saferoom, it might have been easier to explain.

Either way, he was stuck with it. He couldnt change what he had done, just make sure he was better about it in the future. Part of him was actually surprised someone hadnt been by yet to follow up; it had been hours and the motel fire was probably out. The best case scenario was that the Langley shifters, or whatever they called themselves, had collectively decided to keep Callum a secret, but he couldnt plan for that.

He hoped he wouldnt have to abandon Winut, but he probably would. Which meant he had to plan for that, and that meant he needed to get the stash of loot. Callum cast his senses outside and, finding nothing suspicious, got on his remaining jacket and started his car.

Instead of going into town the usual way he circled around, coming at the gas station from the other direction. Unsurprisingly, the actual street where the motel had stood was blocked off, but he only needed to get within range of the gas station in order to teleport all the luggage into the back of his car. He replaced the entire bundle with a single screw enchanted as a siphon, in the hopes that if someone actually looked there wouldnt be any traces.

By the time he got back home he had been up and moving long enough to realize he was absolutely ravenous. He basically hadnt eaten anything since the previous day, so he made himself a sandwich from the stuff in the fridge as he teleported all the loot into the main room of his house. Eight duffle bags of weapons, six large cases of ammunition, two briefcases with the hard drives hed purloined, and then several large lockboxes with money and valuables. Finally, one loose duffel with the magical stuff hed looted from the mages room.

It was actually too much. He didnt have anywhere he could hide it all from a determined search. There were hollow spaces in the walls, of course, and some odd nooks and crannies, but the sheer amount of weaponry alone meant he needed to find or make a stash somewhere else. Callum summoned his notepad to his hand and wrote that on his list before digging into the actual specifics of what hed acquired.

The weapons were, to his disappointment, just normal commercial weapons. Hed been hoping for some magically enhanced ones, but no. Not that he could really complain, since now he had enough armament to outfit an entire platoon. Callum itemized the actual numbers of pistols, rifles, and shotguns as he went. The pistols seemed to be mundane armament, since they were merely standard nine-millimeter types, but all the rifles and shotguns were big and heavy.

The magic, as it turned out, was in the ammunition. There were cases of normal commercial stuff, but most of it was not normal or commercial. The bulk of it was labeled silverite, engraved on the cases of rifle and shotgun ammunition, but there was a decent amount of black mordite and silver-grey corite stuff too. For use against vampires and fae respectively, he assumed. What people used against dragonblooded was anyones guess.

While he could manipulate the silverite and mordite and corite with his magic, he couldnt see inside them. With a little effort he could sweep his spatial sense into a material, like a rock or a wall, but the magical ammunition completely resisted that. Which was a little discomfiting, but it at least meant hed be able to identify the stuff easily enough in the future.

When he took a closer look at it, a good amount of the stuff hed looted from the mage was the same way. There were a few jars of liquids and powders, with labels in a script he couldnt read, and trying to push his senses into them was difficult. They werent quite as bluntly impossible as the anti-supernatural weapons, but it seemed anything that held magic was hard to sound out.

Aside from what hed made himself, of course. It was an interesting question whether or not his little ball bearings would be magically opaque to another mage, or if he needed to do something special to get the effect. Unfortunately, there wasnt another mage to ask.

Along with the components there were a set of ceramic slates with designs on them, clearly made with the liquid and the powder. Probing them with his senses he found that while some of it was just as hard to read, the center was completely open with a loop of magic in it not unlike the vortices. If he had to guess, the plates were magical tools and the center was where the user fed mana.

He didnt try to use them. He had no idea what they did, and no matter how curious he was he didnt want to take the risk of blowing himself or his house up, or igniting some magical beacon that would draw attention down on him. The magic stuff became a note on his notepad to investigate later, and he put them aside.

The other source of magic was something that looked like a womans compact, but the interior had a set of thin metal plates with etching similar to the ones on the slates, arranged so the user could flip through them. The main difference seemed to be that the compacts plates were far simpler. It was all very mysterious and he didnt dare supply it any mana or vis without knowing what it was.

Callum was really starting to get irritated, so he turned to the last bit, the lockboxes and the cash. At the very least, the more fungible part of the loot would cheer him up. Even though he didnt have the keys and hadnt learned lockpicking, he could simply teleport the stuff out of the locked containers.

There was just shy of one hundred thousand dollars in cash, but that wasnt really the main haul. The gold plates, each of them labeled at one hundred grams of 999.9 pure gold and stamped with an unfamiliar logo, were. Ten kilograms of gold was a lot of money. A lot of money. Callums consulting business had put him comfortably right at six figures for income, but actually staring at so much money gathered in one place was something else.

There was also some sort of elaborate crest, the kind that used to be used for sealing wax on documents, that looked like it was gold but resisted his senses enough to be an alloy of one of the supernatural metals. It had some sort of abstract logo on it, nestled in among a bunch of baroque swirls, which if he was fanciful might represent vampire fangs, but it was difficult to tell. That, unfortunately, was something he couldnt sell. It might be magical, and it was definitely traceable.

Callum opened up the briefcase with all the hard drives hed taken and stared at them. It had seemed like a good idea at the time but he actually had no idea what hed look for. He had no tools for cracking open encrypted files, he didnt have the resources to reference phone numbers or account numbers, and he didnt have the contacts to make use of any information he did manage to get.

Not to mention he didnt have the know-how to make sure his computer was safe from any malware or whatever that was encoded in the hard drives. Sure, that might be giving them too much credit, but he couldnt think of a single reason to take the risk. At the same time, he was loath to simple toss them, so he got a bottle of rubbing alcohol and wiped them off to get rid of his prints in case he ever did pass them on.

He wasnt sure he would. The only person he could give them to was Arthur Langley, and for all he knew shifters would be able to smell his scent on them unless he gave them a bath in alcohol or something. Obviously Arthur already knew Callum was involved, but whatever specialists would be trying to get at the data did not. The same was true of the crest.

Callum felt woefully underprepared. He had originally thought that hed stay in Winut for years, slowly working out magic details while lying low, then when he knew more hed know what the next step would be. Now it was clear that not only would that not be happening, he didnt have even the basic supplies for dealing with brushes with the supernatural.

The list on the notepad got longer. He could have used his phone, but he didnt entirely trust the sanctity of his data there. It might be excessively paranoid, but anything connected to the internet could be compromised, and without a supernatural-friendly phone he was probably even more vulnerable. The people at the top of GAR certainly didnt have to worry about their electronics being hacked. Or at the very least, didnt have to worry about the consequences if they were.

He hemmed and hawed over the magical stuff, but eventually put it in a separate bag. If he figured out or found out what it was, he might take it with him, but there was no point in loading himself down just because it was shiny and magical. Everything else got repacked and moved to the basement. If nothing else, it was far, far easier to deal with moving things with his magic.

One of the duffles got repurposed into his new bug-out bag, with all the currency and some of the new weapons. The old ones hed brought with him when he moved to Winut would have to be discarded and destroyed, considering they were still registered to Callum Wells. Which was a shame, but if someone came by and wanted to inspect his guns, the matching serial numbers would give the game away.

So you say, Danforth said, and Arthur growled at him. The mage didnt exactly flinch, but his body language became far more defensive. The man might be a GAR agent, but that didnt mean he could insult Arthur in his own home.

My apologies, Danforth corrected himself. It is just that it seems difficult to credit that someone could destroy a vampire nest of that size without being obvious about it.

It is difficult to credit, Arthur agreed. Im still surprised. But as I said, I only asked for help from Alpha Chester, and only within the confines of territorial agreements. The destruction surprised me as much as anyone. He was fairly certain that mages like Danforth couldnt truth-scry him inside his own home. So far as he knew that required elaborate enchanting, and their own dedicated rooms, but it was easier to tell the truth. Just not the whole truth.

Danforth looked at Arthur for a few moments, then glanced over at Black. She shrugged silently and he sighed.

Very well, lets go see the corpses.

I didnt see a car outside, Arthur observed neutrally. Danforths mouth twisted.

May I request transportation for the duration, Alpha Langley? It was obvious enough that he was irritated by having to make the request, but that was just tough.

Yes. We can take mine to the morgue, and Ill arrange to have a loaner brought out. Surely someone in the pack had a beater they wouldnt mind foisting off on the GAR pair. It was maybe a little petty not to try and find a new car for them, but they were the ones who decided to come in an impractical wind mage vehicle.

The supernatural morgue was, obviously, not in the same place as the mundane one. Not that Winut had a mundane morgue, let alone one capable of holding thirty-three bodies. No, the supernatural morgue was nearly an hour away, in Alpha Chesters territory. It probably would have been easier on everyone to meet the agents there, but GAR probably wanted to make a statement by having them show up at Arthurs home.

He wasnt looking forward to a full hours drive with them, but fortunately after a few more minutes of verbal prodding about the events of the Flats Hotel Massacre, which was what they were calling the case, Danforth defaulted to working on his laptop. And talking to Black, who only ever answered with pantomime.

Normally Arthur would have gone straight to Alpha Chester to pay his respects upon entering his territory, but that was another hours drive and he was in charge of the GAR agents. He contented himself with a text updating Chester about their location and intentions as he waited for them to gather up their laptops and exit the car. When they had themselves sorted he led them into the bland warehouse and down to where the charred bodies were laid out on the slabs.

The fire had done a pretty good job of rendering the bodies unrecognizable, and likely not identifiable outside of genetic matching and dental records, but they were still more or less intact. Hed been a little spooked when hed seen them the first time, and seeing them a second time didnt really help. Arthur was no stranger to death and dead bodies, but so many of them with the exact same wounds was bizarre.

Danforths mouth was set in a hard line as he and Black walked along the rows of corpses, stopping now and then to take pictures. What Danforth thought hed get from the pictures, Arthur didnt know, and fire-scorched mundanes were not exactly photogenic.

Theyre all identical, he said after a while.

Yup, Arthur agreed.

Every single mundane has an entry wound at the right temple. Every single vampire has one at the base of the throat, aimed upward, Danforth continued, raising his eyebrows at Arthur.

I noticed that myself, he agreed. I think youll agree thats not shifter work. Im not entirely certain what could do that.

Thats what were here to find out. He nodded to Black, and she stepped forward and touched the seared skin of the nearest body with one finger with a moue of distaste. The cold scent of fae suddenly spiked as black veins popped out over Blacks pale white skin, her eyes turning into twin pools of darkness. Arthur had to keep himself from shifting; fae magic got really creepy sometimes, and Black was clearly on the far end of the scale.

It didnt last more than two or three seconds. The transformation went as quickly as it came, and Black sighed.

Completely blank. He was just standing there, and then he was dead. Didnt see or hear anything. It was the first time hed heard her speak, and her voice was strange, holding some overtones that were probably magical. He was glad shifters had some resistance to magic, because there was definitely something in that voice he didnt want directed at him.

Maybe try one of the vampires? Danforth suggested, and Black made a face, but went over to that side. They had been rather more thoroughly cooked, and bone showed through in a few places, so Black reluctantly touched the bodies with only the barest tips of her fingers as she read them.

Its the same, she reported. He was sleeping, and then nothing.

Well, keep trying, Danforth told her. Someone had to have seen something.

But nobody had. Black focused on the mundanes, since it had happened during the day and the vamps had probably just been asleep, but she tapped out after five more and theyd all been killed the same way. One bullet, no warning, instant death. The most information she got was that some of them had heard gunshots in the far distance before they died, and two of them guarding something. Arthur mentally revised his image of Mister Chase Hall from merely dangerous to absolutely terrifying. Not only had he destroyed a vampire nest in minutes, hed done so without anyone catching him at it, and of course without getting a scratch on himself. He hadnt even looked winded. Fae assassin was seeming a pretty reasonable guess.

Im afraid well be imposing on you for a while, Danforth said, discreetly propping Black up after her show of magic. Someone who can do this is too dangerous to just let run around loose.

Ill have to find some room with the pack, Arthur said. Our motel burned to the ground.

Ha, ha, Danforth said, without a speck of humor, and Arthur pulled out his phone once again to update his pack. Since they were an hour away, it was a good time for them to go update Mister Hall, though if everyone kept their mouths shut he doubted that the agents would stumble on him.

There might be some evidence in the motel itself, as the cleanup crew was still going through it, but Arthur doubted it. If Mister Hall had been thorough enough to ensure that every shot he took was done without giving anything away at all, then he was thorough enough not to leave anything behind that the fire wouldnt take care of.