Magic Bleeds
number of the Steel Mary’s flunkies worried me. According to Toby the bouncer, this guy told Joshua that he had an opening for two more gods. What did that mean? Was he gathering himself a posse and calling them gods?
    I rubbed my face. His MO said he might move on to another city, but I had a feeling he would stick around. He was obviously building to some sort of goal, and if he got whatever it was he wanted from Joshua, that left the Steel Mary with only one would-be-god spot. Something big would happen when he filled his quota. Atlanta was the center of the South. The largest Pack was here, the largest Guild was here, the Southern MSDU was headquartered here. It made sense that Atlanta has been his goal all along. I didn’t know where he would hit next, but at least I could thrust some sticks into his wheels.
    I pulled up the phone and grabbed the phone book. My tenure in the Mercenary Guild was about to pay off.
    I dialed the first number. A gruff male voice answered. “Black Dog Tavern.”
    “Hey, Keith, it’s Kate Daniels.”
    “Hey, Order Kate, how are ya?”
    I almost choked. Order Kate? Really? “I’m good. How about yourself?”
    “Can’t complain, can’t complain. What’re you hunting for today?”
    “I’ve got a troublemaker who recently moved to town, a really tall guy in a tattered cloak. He likes to come into bars when the magic’s up and throw around some heavy-duty spells to start fights.”
    “Sounds like a fun fella.”
    Depends on your definition of fun. “Do you still have that girl working for you, Emily?”
    “Yep, she’s here every night.”
    “Apparently, this guy’s power bounces from ladies. Would you do me a huge favor and make sure you have Emily working during the magic waves? Give her my number and tell her to call me right away if any crazy fights break out. He’s costing the bar owners an arm and a leg in broken furniture.”
    “Just so you know, he comes in here, it won’t be my furniture that will get broken. I’ll snap his legs.”

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    Sure you will. “You do that. But make sure you give the girl my number anyway? I know your crew can handle him, but humor me. I’d really like to get my hands on this guy.”
    “Will do,” Keith said.
    “Thanks.” I hung up. That was the best I was going to get. I slipped my fingers to the next number and dialed.
    “Devil’s Pit,” a woman answered.
    “Hey, Glenda, it’s Kate Daniels. How are you?”
    “Good, how about yourself?”
    “Still trucking. Listen, I’ve got this moron who just cruised into town. He likes to start fights and I want to head him off at the pass . . .”
    In an hour and a half, I’d hit every tough-guy watering hole I could remember. I’d called PAD and apprised them of the situation. I’d called the regular cops and given them the description of the guy. I’d called the local gossips and asked them to spread the word around. I’d called the Guild, where the Clerk picked up the phone. I’d known the Clerk for years. A trim, middle-aged man, he manned the counter and all mercs saw him twice per every gig, first, when they got the job, and second, when they turned in their capture tickets at the end. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his name and the multitude of us knew him simply as “the Clerk.”
    I gave him my spiel and he chuckled at me. “If he comes in here, I’ll just tell the fellas there is a gig ticket on his head. They’ll dismantle him to parts.”
    “He’s a tough guy to deal with. Let Solomon know.”
    “Sure.”
    I could tell by his voice that he would blow me off. Just as well. I doubted the Guild’s founder would pay me any mind. Solomon Red didn’t even know my name. But I had to try. “I tell you what, put me through to him.”
    “Sorry, he’s on DND.”

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    Do Not Disturb. Fine. “Give me his voice mail,

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