Mythmaker by Marianne de Pierres

Author:Marianne de Pierres [de Pierres, Marianne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9870857664228
Publisher: Watkins Media
Published: 2015-08-22T04:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

Caro called me just as I left the Ringway heading back to the Western Quarter and Dabrowski’s Diner. I was sprawled along the back seat of the half-empty bus, watching the mid-afternoon traffic flow and scrolling through the Mythos Vade Mecum on my LiFo.

The closest passenger was three rows in front – a beautiful young Filipino woman engrossed in refreshing the tattoos on her nails. Rivera Salons embroidered in gold sequins rippled on the back of her shirt as she squirmed in her seat.

My inbox chimed with a message from Sixkiller asking for an update on my day. I replied briefly, telling him I’d initiated a meeting with Johnny, and was on my way there. I didn’t say where. Johnny wouldn’t do well with a lawman breathing down his collar. My ranger’s uniform spooked him enough. Of course, I wasn’t wearing it today. Hopefully the red T-shirt with the holes would work in my favour.

My cell phone rang and I squinted at the caller ID. “Caro?”

“Come by after your meeting with Johnny. Also, I left word for Hamish that you’d be at the diner by 5pm.”

The bus had pulled in to the last of the downtown stops before taking the Ten-Ways roundabout to enter the Western Quarter. Ms Rivera Salon clacked off down the aisle in her heels, leaving. As she put her foot on the steps, someone got up from the seat behind the driver to follow her; someone – or thing – with a long, thin tongue, which unravelled from its mouth. The tongue rolled onto the floor and snaked around Ms Rivera Salon’s ankle like a frog sticking a fly.

Mythos. I fumbled in my bag, searching for the flat baton that Sixkiller had given me in the GJIC halfway house.

“Virgin?” said Caro. “Are you still there?”

“I have to go.”

“Why, what’s–”

I took a quick photo of Ms Rivera then shoved my cell phone in my pocket. “Hey!”

The whole bus turned to look at me. The driver glanced in his rear view.

“Hey, Miss! You… Did you drop this?” I asked.

Ms Rivera Salon stopped and glanced back over her shoulder. “You talkin’ to me?”

I advanced down the aisle a few steps. “Yeah. This was under your seat. I thought you’d dropped it.”

Now I was closer, I could see the creature more clearly. It looked like an elongated foetus, with a large, unformed mouth and thin limbs.

I lifted the baton higher and pressed the knob on the side. The blunt instrument warmed in my grasp. “See? I just thought it might be important?”

The creature blinked rapidly at the sight of the baton and retracted its tongue from around her ankle.

Like everyone else on the bus, Ms Rivera seemed oblivious to the threat standing right next to her.

She shrugged. “Not mine, lady.” And got off.

“Miss, put the stick away and please sit down, or I will call Aus-Pol,” said the driver over his intercom.

The Mythos curled into a ball and rolled under the luggage rack, while I made a show of doing exactly what the driver said, stashing the baton in my backpack, and returning to my seat.

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