Bedlam Boyz Read online

  “It’s the flake your man sells to us,” Razz added. “He’s all right, my man, righteous. Not like some scrambling dealers, chalking their shit and acting all clocked out. So, mama, what can the Razzman do for you?”

  “Nate sent me to Los Angeles on a particular errand,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I’m trying to find someone. And I think that person may be linked to what happened last night at a warehouse in Van Nuys, that involved some of your boys. Do you know what happened there?”

  Razz sat up suddenly, giving her a narrowed look. “Damn straight I know what happened there, lady. Those bastard homies, they killed four of my guys. Those fucking Tyrone Street homeboys, Carlos Hernandez’s gang. They all live in Van Nuys, been selling shit in our territory. We went out there to teach ‘em a lesson last night.”

  “Your territory? Isn’t your territory entirely on this side of the hills?” Shari inquired.

  “Used to be. We’re expanding our business, y’know? Like a corporation, doing that hostile takeover shit. These guys wouldn’t take a hint, so we went out there to reason with them, like. It didn’t go down too well.” He gave her an odd look. “You didn’t know that we were moving into other areas, mama? Nate was the man who suggested it, helped us scan the plan. He wants us to expand our turf so we can sell more rock for him. I bite his style, he’s hot shit.”

  Oh, did he? That’s something that dear Nataniel neglected to mention to me at all. I wonder why he’s doing that? A little dangerous, I would think—the odds are high that these boys would get themselves killed, and then we’d have to find new buyers for our supplies. Interesting that Nataniel would consider that a worthwhile effort.

  But he’s right, if they succeed, it means a substantially larger profit for Nataniel. And why should we care if any of these worthless humans die in the effort? “Did any of your boys see anything unusual there last night? Anything you couldn’t explain?”

  “Like what, mama?” Razz asked.

  She thought about trying to explain magic to this human idiot and decided against it. “I need to go talk with these homeboys. I assume your people can direct me to their base of operations?”

  “Lady, we took out their base last night. That warehouse was where they cut their rock and wash the shake. I can tell you where some of them live, though. We’ve been doing surveillance on them, y’know? Like a real military operation.”

  A real military operation. What an amusing thought. “Good. Let’s go, then.”

  “What, right now?”

  “Of course.” She stood, tapping her foot impatiently. “You said over the phone that you owe Nate for everything he’s done for you. This is a minor favor I’m asking of you, to take me into this gang’s territory.”

  Razz shook his head. “No way, mama. Not that I’m dissin’ you, but no can do till you tell me what’s going down. We wiped their asses last night—you think we’re just gonna walk in there and smoke shit with them? They’ll ice our asses.”

  Shari thought about that for a moment. Razz couldn’t use the information, couldn’t even figure out who the mage was, probably. “All right, then. There’s someone in the gang that I need to see. Someone unusual … someone who has the gift of magic.”

  “Magic?” Razz grinned, showing two gold teeth. “You been smoking too much rock, mama. You sky-ed. No such shit as magic.”

  “You don’t need to believe me,” Shari said quietly. “But you’ll take me there. You do owe Nate that much.”

  Razz shrugged. “Yeah, I’m loyal to The Man, but we’re not going in there without some serious firepower. I’ll call the bros in for this.” He walked into the main room. Shari followed him, listening as he explained what they were going to do to the crowd near the pool table.

  “Why are you listening to this white bitch, Razz?” one of his boys asked. “Who gives a shit what she wants us to do? She’s not The Man, she’s just his babe.”

  Shari considered the problem from a tactical viewpoint. She couldn’t damage Razz’s control of his group, since a change of command could endanger Nataniel’s investments in this gang. Of course, an insult to her was also an insult to Nataniel, her liege lord. An interesting problem.

  “I work for Nate,” she said, the human nickname feeling awkward on her tongue, “who has kept you supplied in drugs, guns, and bribe money for the police for the last two years. Besides—”

  She had learned about human physiology on Nataniel’s orders, after he’d brought her here to this human world from the Unseelie Court. She chose the exact attack and moved quickly to strike with her foot. Yes, perfect. The idiot crumpled on the spot, falling to his knees, clutching himself and gasping in pain.

  “—no one calls me a bitch.” She glanced at Razz, who was staring at her in shock. She smiled to herself; if she’d really wanted to impress this leader of fools, she would have used magic to incinerate him. This way, perhaps his follower had a chance to learn from his mistake.

  “I assume we won’t need this idiot for this trip into the Valley,” she said, pushing the semi-conscious boy out of her way with her foot. “Shall we leave, Razz?”

  He nodded, ordering his followers out to their cars.

  “Carlos, what happened to your eye?” Roberta asked as they walked into the apartment. Carlos gave her a sullen look and stalked past her, heading for the telephone. Kayla stifled a laugh.

  “The entire barrio is talking about you now, after what happened last night,” Roberta said to Kayla. “I wanted to thank you for healing Fernando.”

  “Fernando?”

  “He’s my brother,” Roberta said simply. “Everyone has been bringing gifts for you,” she added, a little shyly.

  There was a pile of stuff on the table next to the couch. Kayla sat down to look at it: some chocolate and other candy, some cassette tapes, and a tall stack of paperback books.

  Kayla picked up the book on the top of the stack, a fantasy novel with a horse on the cover, looking at it with interest. “Thanks.” She plunked herself down on the couch, glancing up occasionally as Carlos, Ramon, and Roberta discussed something in Spanish, and dove into the book.

  The book was great fun, a story about a girl who ran away from home with the help of a magical white horse. Kayla smiled at that, wishing there had been a magical white horse to help her get away from the foster home. No, she and Billy and Liane had taken the RTD bus. A hell of a lot less romantic, and not nearly as much fun.

  She didn’t realize how caught up she was in the story until the next time she looked up, when she saw that she was alone in the room. No, there was someone seated by the door, one of the homeboys she didn’t know or recognize. He was sitting quietly, just watching her.

  She looked out the window, hearing the sound of someone banging a hammer against something metal. There was Fernando, half-invisible under the hood of his car, pounding on something inside the engine. He must be doing fine, she thought. I guess I did a better job on fixing his busted chest than I thought.

  Roberta was talking with Fernando as he worked, carrying baby Juanita on her hip. Ramon was a few feet away, playing catch with some of the younger kids.

  “Can I go downstairs?” she asked the man.

  He said something in Spanish, smiling at her.

  “Uh … go downstairs?” She pointed out the open window. “Can I?” She looked down again and thought her heart was going to stop: she saw the white Mercedes with the trashed front fender, followed closely by several other cars, gliding down the street toward the apartment building.

  “RAMON!” she yelled at the top of her voice. He looked up, then turned in the direction she was pointing. A moment later he shouted something in Spanish and everyone, even the young children, all scattered for cover.

  “Come on!” She ran for the door, not caring whether the homeboy understood or followed. Kayla vaulted down the three flights of stairs, hearing the clatter of her guard’s footsteps behind her. She was out of the apartment building a moment later, looking
around the street to get her bearings.

  The Mercedes and the rest of the convoy had parked across the street, and a woman was getting out of the back seat of the white Mercedes. Kayla blinked once, uncertain what she was seeing, then stared.

  This woman was beautiful, dressed like a model from a magazine, dark-haired and with vivid blue eyes. No … inhumanly beautiful, that’s what she was—no real person could look like that. And she was bright with magic, Kayla realized, brighter than anyone she’d ever seen, practically glowing around the edges with power. She couldn’t be a real person, not and look like that… .

  But no real person had ears like this lady. Pointed ears, right out of Star Trek or one of her nightmares… .

  And no real person had eyes like hers, either, blue as gemstones and slitted like a cat’s.

  The woman saw Kayla staring at her, and smiled.

  :Do you see me for what I am, girl?: The cool feminine voice said within Kayla’s mind. :That’s very good, because I can see you, as well… . :

  Chapter Nine

  Kayla looked around quickly for somewhere to run, but the only obvious direction was back up the stairs, which wouldn’t get her very far.

  :Don’t run, girl. I won’t hurt you.: The voice spoke quietly in her mind. :Just stand still, be calm. Let me look at you.: The woman with the pointed ears walked closer to her, looking at her curiously.

  “You’re younger than I would’ve expected,” the woman said aloud. “How old are you, girl … seventeen? Eighteen?”

  “Fifteen,” Kayla tried to say, but her voice wasn’t working quite right. For the first time in her life, she understood what the expression about someone’s “throat being tight with fear” really meant—she couldn’t quite manage to say the word out loud.

  “Fifteen,” the woman repeated thoughtfully, as though Kayla had spoken. “That’s very young, for one of your kind. I begin to see Nataniel’s reasoning at last.” She smiled. “My name is Shari, girl. I’ve traveled a long way to meet you.”

  Behind Shari, she could see the T-Men getting out of their cars. Some already had handguns ready, and one was carrying what looked like a submachine gun. Kayla swallowed awkwardly.

  “We’re not here for a fight,” Shari said loudly. “I need to talk with Carlos Hernandez. Where is he?”

  “He’s not here,” Ramon said. He walked forward from behind a parked van, matching gazes with the strange woman. Kayla wanted to scream. No, Ramon, please, don’t get yourself killed, not over me… .

  “We need to talk,” Shari said. “Tell him that I work for Nate Shea. He probably will recognize the name—Nate is one of the major drug suppliers for downtown L.A. We don’t supply the Tyrone Street Boys, but he should know the name. I need to talk to him …”—her eyes drifted to Kayla, who felt like a rabbit caught out in front of a hawk—” … and that child as well. We’ll wait in the car until Carlos arrives.” She turned and walked back across the street, as elegant as a princess.

  ”<|>‘Berta,” Ramon called quietly, and Roberta edged forward from the side of the building. She looked like she was close to tears, holding Juanita protectively in her arms. “Go upstairs and call Carlos,” Ramon instructed Roberta. “And don’t come back down here, no matter what happens.”

  “Ramie, they might kill you!”

  “I know, I know. Just go now, quickly. Kayla, you go with her.”

  “I want to stay with you!” Kayla protested.

  Ramon gave her a sad smile. “Please, querida. You are a brave girl, but you shouldn’t be here. Go upstairs now, please.”

  Kayla glanced at the woman—she could see her face, serene and inhuman, through the window of the white Mercedes. “Okay. Okay, I’ll go up.” She walked with Roberta to the entrance of the apartment building and up the three flights of stairs. Roberta set baby Juanita down on the couch and picked up the phone, dialing quickly. She spoke into it for a few minutes in Spanish, then hung up. As she picked up Juanita again, Kayla could see the tears in her eyes.

  “Hey, it’ll be okay,” Kayla said, wondering if her words sounded as empty to Roberta as they did to her.

  Roberta held the baby very close to her, tears falling down her face and soaking into the baby’s shirt. Kayla sat next to her on the couch, not certain what to do. Hesitantly, she put her arm around Roberta’s shoulders. “It’ll be all right, you’ll see.”

  The young woman shook her head, not answering.

  The next half hour was the longest of Kayla’s life, as she wondered who was going to come through the door next. Ramon and Carlos, to tell them that everything was okay? The woman and the T-Men, planning to kill them?

  That woman, Shari … Kayla still couldn’t believe what she’d seen. She knew the woman wasn’t a normal human being, but what else could she be? It didn’t make any sense. There just weren’t people with pointy ears walking around in Los Angeles—she couldn’t be real. Except that she was downstairs in the street right now, sitting in a white Mercedes.

  She wanted to ask Roberta about it, but Roberta was obviously not interested in conversation. She sat nervously on the couch, waiting for something to happen.

  Eventually there was a knock at the door, and when she saw that Roberta wasn’t going to get up to answer it, Kayla walked over and opened the door. It was the homeboy who had been guarding Kayla. He spoke to Roberta in Spanish.

  “You need to go with him,” she said. “Carlos is downstairs, talking with the woman, and they need you there as well.”

  Kayla followed him down to the street. Carlos and Ramon were standing on the sidewalk, talking with the woman. “Bruja,” Carlos said, “this woman has questions for you.”

  “Tell me about your magic, girl,” Shari said.

  Feeling very self-conscious, Kayla explained what had happened to her in the last two weeks, ending with walking into the warehouse after the gunfight last night and what had happened there. The woman nodded as she finished, and spoke quietly. “I believe I may have a solution to the problems between the T-Men and the Tyrone Street Boys. Nate is interested in you, girl. I believe he could end this war by paying off the T-Men, convincing them to pursue other ventures … if you will agree to work for him. He could make this financially lucrative for Carlos Hernandez and his Tyrone Street Boys, as well.”

  “I’d be willing to help both groups, anybody who needs it,” Kayla said. “Just so they stop killing each other. That’s all I’m asking.” She glanced at Ramon. “I don’t want anyone else to get killed, y’know?”

  “We’ll think about it, after you leave,” Carlos said. His lips were very tight, and he was watching the guys in the parked cars very closely.

  “That would be fine.” The woman removed a business card from her purse. “Call me later today, if you would. I’ll talk to Nate immediately to work out the details.”

  Carlos took the card from her. She walked back to the white Mercedes. A few minutes later, the convoy of cars left, following the Mercedes. Carlos stood watching until the last car disappeared around the corner. “Upstairs,” he said abruptly. “We have to talk about this now.”

  “Didn’t you guys see it?” Kayla asked, running up the stairs behind Carlos and Ramon. “Didn’t you see it?”

  “See what, querida?” Ramon asked.

  “That woman, Shari!”

  “I’ve met Shari before,” Carlos said grimly. “And her employer, Nate Shea. We are in worse trouble than we were before, Ramie.”

  “But doesn’t she look just a little … weird … to you? I mean, you saw it, right? Her face? Her eyes? Her ears?”

  “Stop talking nonsense, girl,” Carlos said. “Her ears are just like the rest of her. We have serious business to talk about now.”

  They didn’t see it, neither of them saw that she isn’t human. Kayla stopped for a moment on the stairs, staring at Carlos and Ramon. How could they miss it? She’s got bigger ears than Mister Spock! Maybe she got those eyes from a fancy pair of contact lenses, but those ears
were real! Come on, guys, I know you’re not blind!

  Maybe there’s something else going on here. She recognized me the minute she saw me, she knew what I can do. Maybe this is some kind of thing that most people can’t see, something to do with magic. I can see her for what she is, but no one else can.

  This is too weird for words!

  Kayla followed them back into the apartment. Roberta was all over Carlos a half-second later, crying and hugging him. He said something gentle to her in Spanish, and she went back to the couch, picking up little Juanita, who had started to roll toward the edge of the sofa.

  Carlos sat down heavily next to Roberta. For a moment, he played with baby Juanita, letting her tug on his fingers, before he spoke again. “I don’t know what to do, Ramie. This is an impossible situation.”

  “What’s so impossible about it?” Kayla spoke up. “Seems like it’s the perfect solution, everything works out great for everyone.”

  “It isn’t that easy, bruja.”

  “Why not?”

  Ramon explained quietly, as Carlos stood and paced the room. “Nate Shea, that is why. He is a major drug supplier to most of Los Angeles, a very dangerous man. Our fight with the T-Men is bad, but not as bad as angering Nate would be. At least in the war with the T-Men, there’s a chance we could win, or force them to quit.”

  “But what she talked about was terrific! It could work!”

  Carlos whirled to face her. “But what if it doesn’t? Then we are in a war with not only the T-Men but also Shea, who owns his own private army! We can’t win!”

  “But you don’t have to fight!”

  Carlos sat down on a chair across from her. “Bruja, you know that the T-Men are trying to kill all of us. I think they might kill you, or worse, if you go with them. We can’t trust them. Perhaps we can trust Nate Shea, but I don’t know. The T-Men are a lot of business to Nate, millions of dollars a year, and he may decide to go along with what they want rather than lose their business. We’re nothing beside that. And next to that, what are you?” He shook his head. “No. I won’t risk it.”