God Incognito: Chapter 3

John Wind Eagle has happily kept a low profile for centuries. To the few who know him, he is thought of as a competent practitioner of the mystic arts. Not exactly weak, but definitely not powerful. Power attracts attention and the wrong kind of attention can make life complicated.

For many centuries, a carefree, uncomplicated life has worked out well for John. That is, until an angel delivers an ominous warning to him. A warning that soon has him neck deep in feral vampires savaging the city, upper level daemons on a serial killing spree and the catholic church’s secret army waging war against the supernatural community.

So much for an uncomplicated life…

Art and story by Ashanti Khan

Chapter 3: Suriel

The Loop was Chicago’s downtown neighborhood and second largest business district in the United States. Wind Eagle Consulting, was located on Wabash Street in the South end of the Loop. A fact that made it a long walk from John’s office to the Riverwalk on Wacker Drive. John didn’t mind the long walk. His original intention had been to go to the shores of creation to clear his mind. He needed to contemplate the best way to help Patrick McQueen. But for some reason, instead of stepping through the closet door in his office and stepping out on to the shores of creation, he changed his mind and chose to go to the Riverwalk instead.

Chicago’s Riverwalk stretched along Wacker Drive on the south bank of the Chicago River from Franklin Street to Lake Shore Drive. The Riverwalk was actually a river-level promenade offering visitors a variety of concessions. One could find cafés featuring all types of cuisines. There were tour boats one could book that ran along the Chicago River as well as those that traversed Lake Michigan. The Riverwalk also offered bicycle rentals, and a variety of retail stands featuring craft works by local entrepreneurs. Usually brimming with activity in the warm spring and summer months, the Riverwalk inevitably became empty every autumn and winter. Perhaps that was why John found himself drawn there. Without the hustle and bustle of crowds, a public bench along the Riverwalk would be a nice picturesque place to sit and think.

Patrick had turned out to be a very different challenge from what John first expected. After his initial conversation with father Murray, John thought the boy might be a sensitive and possibly even a receiver. Now that he’d spoken to Patrick at great length, he was convinced the boy was far more than a receiver. Not only could Patrick hear and see spirits, but he could also speak and interact with them. That made Patrick a sender. But by the time John had finished interviewing him, he had discovered the boy was the rarest of all. Patrick was not only a receiver and a sender, but he was also a traveler.

Patrick could make physical contact with spirits not merely in this reality, but he could also travel to the spirit planes. He didn’t do this as a spirit like a shaman or a mage might. Patrick actually traveled there in corporeal form as easily as breathing. This worried John on several levels. Most people with an ability come into their power at puberty. Patrick was only just beginning puberty, but based on the things he told John he over heard his mother discussing with his father after one of his incidents, Patrick’s powers had manifested while he was still in his mother’s womb.

To come into his power at that young an age suggested Patrick would be many times stronger by the time he was a fully matured man. A pang of sadness tugged at John as he thought about the loss of childhood Patrick must have already suffered because of his gift. It was a wonder the boy hadn’t gone psychotic from all the things he’s been exposed to. For all John knew at this point, the boy actually could be psychotic. The bottom line was that Patrick was in dire need of relief, protection, education and training. He needed to start immediately, before something else found its way to him. Something worse than a low level, dark spirit.

In the short term, John knew exactly what he could do for Patrick. The boy needed protection from the spirits that were drawn to him. That problem could be solved with a powerful charm that warded off spirits. It was the long term that was the bigger issue. Patrick needed education and training. Exactly how he would achieve that, John wasn’t sure. He needed a solid long term plan.

For now, all John knew with any certainty was that whatever solution he came up with, Patrick’s parents would be a big obstacle to overcome. John had no idea what he could do about them. Having no solution at the moment, John decided to turn his attention toward the lone booth merchant before him.

Although it was pleasant, Indian summer weather for the end of October, John hadn’t expected to find a booth merchant open for business. But then, John also hadn’t expected to find himself at the Riverwalk in the first place. Now that he was here, he thought he may as well take a closer look.

The booth was that of a jewelry merchant. It was run by a woman whose clothing and make up screamed Goth enthusiast. John took note of the woman’s beauty then re-focused on the jewelry. There were some impressive pieces on display. Intricate and meticulous craftsmanship was consistently evident throughout every piece. As his fingers touched several of the earrings and bracelets, John sensed the strong, residual mana of the jewelry maker. Because the mana was unusually strong, John was careful not to let his touch linger.

“I really like your jewelry,” John said as he looked up to meet the eyes of the merchant. He could sense the magic in her blood. She was definitely a practitioner. She seemed human by her scent, but there was something else about her. Something that John couldn’t quite define. If he had to pick something, he would definitely say she was a witch. The mana of human sorcerers, wizards and witches had a distinct quality to it. This mana seemed to suggest a witch. Yet at the same time, it had an additional quality that told John she was unusual even among witches. Although he couldn’t put his finger on it, John was certain, given time, he could figure it out.

Although he had a few exceptional friends, witches as a whole, weren’t a breed that John was particularly fond of. He didn’t hate them the way he did vampires, He just didn’t like them. John supposed it was because he seemed to come across mostly bad ones. The ones mad for power and whose first instinct in any situation was to manipulate. Worst among those were the blood practitioners. They always found John fascinating and irresistible, but not in the sexy, kinky sort of way he would’ve preferred.

Although John liked all kinds of women at pretty much any age, his attraction for the witch was unexpected. He usually didn’t go for the Goth look, nor was he a fan of an over abundance of tattoos and piercings. This witch seemed to be his first exception. In fact, John thought the little Goth was downright sexy in all her dark make-up and pierced splendor.

“Thank you. They’re all my designs and I make them all by hand,” said the witch. She seemed to be Caucasian, but with a very swarthy complexion. Her age appeared to be twenty to twenty-five years old with a body that was thin, but strong looking, like a dancer. Her black dress was comprised of several thin layers. She wore black finger nail polish and lipstick. Even her eyes had a heavy application of black mascara. The only color on her other than black, was the burgundy dye in her hair and the piercings in her skin.

The witch had three silver ring piercings through her left eye brow along with a nose stud. That surprised John. In the old days, silver chains and cold iron were the main weapons witch hunter’s employed. That legacy was enough to make most witches choose not to wear silver jewelry.

Although John didn’t much care for piercings, he had to admit the witch’s looked kind of nice. She hadn’t gone overboard with them and they fit well with her face. Where the witch did over do it, however, was with her jewelry. She wore rings of various shapes and designs on all her fingers and thumbs. John felt there was a good chance that several of them were magically enhanced. The witch also wore several gold and silver necklaces and one pendent with a small ruby at its center. John thought it was also magically enhanced. He toyed with the idea of looking at the jewelry with new eyes to confirm his suspicions. He also couldn’t help wondering if the Goth look was real or just an outfit she wore for her business.

“I didn’t expect to find any merchants out here this time of year,” said John displaying his most charming smile.

“Normally I wouldn’t be, but this weather seemed to call to me. So I decided to give today a shot,” she replied while appraising John. Her eyes ran up and down his body just as John’s did the same to her. She looked at him like she had a serious need.

Ordinarily, John would have been flattered, but he had been through this routine before. It seemed as if every female witch operated out of the same unwritten play book. They all did pretty much the same thing when they encountered him and this one turned out to be no different.

Despite the flirtation in her eyes, John knew the witch wasn’t interested in him. She was just trying to ascertain his power level under the guise of a lascivious stare. Since it generally takes a moment or two to gage someone’s power level and staring, is of course rude, the simplest thing to do is to stare in a more socially acceptable way. John had seen this technique at least a thousand times if he had seen it once. Female witches tended to employ it under the guise of feigning sexual interest or simple flirtation. It was a technique that worked well for attractive female witches when used against heterosexual males.

What this witch had no way of knowing was that John was an expert at hiding his power. He routinely appeared to be weak until he needed to be strong. John didn’t mask the magic that hid his guns and their holsters. It was his way of confusing practitioners. They would sense the magic that hid his weapons. They knew he had some sort of magic on his person, but they wouldn’t be able to figure out his magical ability. Not knowing how strong another practitioner was could make some practitioners uneasy. The respectful practitioners would give John nothing to worry about. The less respectful ones needed a seed of doubt planted in them. Sensing magically concealed weapons, but not being able to tell if John magically out classed them, usually was enough to make most of that demographic play nice. For all the rest, John knew nothing he did as a deterrent would make any difference.

“I think I’d like to purchase these. How much are they?” John asked. He removed a simple, but elegant pair of earrings off the hook on the display stand. They appeared to be some sort of quartz-like stone. John thought probably amethyst, judging by their purple-violet coloring. The jewels were approximately the size of a pencil eraser and sat in a gold colored mount that added the finishing touch to their styling.

The witch continued trying to size John up, but there was no more pretense of attraction in her gaze. In fact, she seemed a bit irritated. “An excellent choice and very inexpensive for quality hand crafted jewelry. Those are only thirty dollars,” she replied while playing with the ruby pendant that hung from her neck.

John wanted to think it was just one of her natural mannerisms, but when he felt her marshaling her power, he knew it wasn’t. The woman had become scared of him. He could clearly scent the fear on her. It wasn’t the reaction John anticipated. It also wasn’t the first time a witch got nervous around him after being unable to sense his power level.

“My name is John Wind Eagle and if you’re interested, I’m positive the gift shop in the Bascomb Hotel over in Bronseville would be interested in carrying your products,” John said as he counted out thirty dollars from his wallet.

“Really? Are you associated with the Bascomb Hotel, Mr. Wind Eagle?”

“Oh I know the owner very well, Ms. — ”

“Kitridge, Corrianne Kitridge,” she replied as she handed John the small bag containing his purchase. Corrianne’s power settled down and her fear receded. The bit of conversation and the offer of business seemed to somewhat put her at ease.

As John received the bag, he spied something in his peripheral vision. It only took an instant for him to realize Corrianne didn’t see what he saw. Fortunately, he had millions of years to perfect his poker face. “Well Corrianne, I know good craftsmanship when I see it. I know talent when I see it. I also know how difficult it can be for an artist to get a break.”

“Thank you for saying so and I really think your friend is going to love those earrings. Is it for her birthday? I only ask because amethyst is not the right birth stone for someone born in October or November. It’s meant for February.”

“It’s not for a birthday. My friend just likes that color,” John smiled. He then placed the small bag in his jacket pocket and walked leisurely away.

Just then, John felt a tickle against his abdomen. It was his Razr. What the hell, John thought as he grabbed the cell phone from its belt case. The Razr was the original model from Motorola. It was an old flip phone that he had since two thousand five, but it had held up well for him over the years. John’s only complaint about the phone was that sometimes it changed ring modes on its own. John hadn’t figured out yet how it was happening. He didn’t know if he was doing it or if the phone was malfunctioning on its own. The bottom line was that the phone had somehow switched to vibrate and he just missed a call.
The Razr’s display said John had a voice mail waiting for him. He stared at the phone number at the top of his received calls list for a few moments, but nothing came to mind. He simply didn’t recognize the number. After playing the voice mail, he definitely recognized the voice.

Officer Vicky Pulaski’s voice hit John with an ominous feeling. He hadn’t heard from her in a good five, maybe six years and now she needed to speak to him. John wasn’t sure how he felt about that and Vicky’s message didn’t exactly give him any help deciding.

Vicky didn’t go into any details. She simply said she needed help and wanted John to call her back. After listening to the message one more time, John put his phone back in his belt case. He hadn’t completely made his mind up, but he really didn’t think he’d call Vicky back. He had enough on his mind without adding whatever she wanted from him.

John walked over to a public bench about a half block from Corianne. When he sat down, he found himself next to a large, olive complexioned, light, brown skinned man in a full length trench coat. Most people would have chosen to avoid the big man based on his intimidating size and intense look, but John didn’t hesitate. No one else seemed to even notice that the large man was perched atop the back rest of the public bench like some great bird. John assumed that he had made himself unseen to the mundane world.

“Hey Suri. It’s been a while, how’ve you been?” John asked as he pulled out a bag of peanut M&Ms. Although John spoke freely and casually, he took care not to look at the big man when he spoke. He also only spoke when a passerby was out of hearing range.

“My body is well and I, persevere, Noma Ohm.” The big man’s voice was surprisingly ordinary and nondescript. Considering what he was, John always expected something more dramatic sounding.

“Persevere? Oh Suri, that’s so sad. You have to get out more, see people, live a little,” John said after popping a peanut M&M in his mouth. He offered the bag to the big man, who ignored the gesture. John shrugged it off and ate another M&M.

“Getting out was my first mistake. Seeing people was my second,” the big man said, as his eyes took in everything, like a predator.

“Suri, you have got to lighten up. I mean, how many millennia do you intend to torture yourself? You acted independently. You broke a few rules. You paid the price. You did your time.”
“From the time of my creation through to this very moment, only you have ever dared call me Suri, said Suriel.”

“C’mon. Are you telling me the big gal never nicknamed you guys?” Asked John.

Suriel said nothing in reply. He was very good at saying nothing.

“Well, if the big gal truly still had a problem with you, don’t you think you would have heard something from her by now?”

“That’s just it, Noma Ohm, I don’t hear anything anymore.”

“A lot of families get pissed off at one another and give each other the silent treatment. Believe me, it will pass old friend. It might take a while. Of course, a while being relative, given your life span and all. And please, call me John. Noma Ohm has been gone for a very long time, Suri.”

“Yes, you are good at covering your trail, John,” Suriel said as if the name, John, was something alien to his tongue.

“Evidently, not good enough.”

“I have very good eyes to see you in any form, John and a very long memory that would never let me forget anything or anyone. Even with magic as strong as yours. But take heart, your disguise is good enough to fool many of my kind.

“I see. Good to know. So did you just feel like a little conversation? Because I was thinking we could go over to the Loop Pub, shoot the shit, down a beer or two and have a corned beef sandwich. What do you say?”

“Perhaps some other time, John.”

“You always say that, Suri, but you never find the time. And time is the one thing we both have plenty of.”

That is a matter of interpretation. From my perspective, there always seems to be precious little,” said the big man. The October breeze blew his trench coat open and his long black, Fabio-like hair out, but the rest of him remained virtually a statue perched atop the bench.

“All right then Suri, Join me and Nemesis for this month’s gathering. Come socialize with us.” Although there was hopefulness in John’s voice, he held little faith that Suriel would actually come.

“Socializing with the two natured in an animal form is not my way, John. I do not practice therianthropy,” said Suriel as he briefly looked at Corianne.

“I didn’t mean run on all fours with the pack, although you’re more than welcome to if you want. This gathering, I’m surprising them by taking them to a special place. You might enjoy it, Suri. But if not, then I definitely want you to come to the barbecue. I’ve got post-its on recipes all through my copy of Primal Grill that I want to try out. So come enjoy the day with us.”

“I will consider it John. If things go well.

“Is that your way of warning me of something, Suri? Is that why you compelled me to this place?” John asked, only now putting it all together.

“I didn’t compel you John. I merely called to you. I’m not even sure that I could compel you, at least, not when in your true form. Tell me, why are you masquerading as a human.”

“Hey, it keeps me from getting board, alright? So did you also call her? John asked looking toward Corianne.

“An interesting female and quite beautiful, in spite of her poor fashion sense and body art,” replied Suriel.

“Well, it’s good to know you are not completely dead inside,” John said with a little smile.

Suriel turned the intensity of his piercing brown eyes up to eleven and bored into John. He hesitated for a long moment, as if struggling to decide what he wanted to say. “It would be foolish, hypocritical, and above all, a lie for me to pretend at this point that I do not find the female form desirable,”

Despite his admissions, John saw that Suriel’s eyes held no carnal attraction for Corianne, yet there was something there, Some kind of attraction or connection. “So what’s the deal, Suri? What did you want?”

Suriel turned his gaze back toward Corianne, but said nothing. “Okay, okay. Obviously it involves me and the witch. How? What do the two of us have to do with each other. I’ve never met her before today.”

“Do you believe that your actions have consequences, John?”

“We both know the answer to that, Suri. So why even ask me that question?”

“And what of coincidence, John? Where do you stand on the concept?”

John smiled and gently snorted through his nose. “Well, as concepts go, it’s quite conceivable, but I tend not to subscribe to that point of view.

“If you reject coincidence, then surely you must accept synchronicity as a more viable alternative?” Suriel asked.

“Well, if nothing else, it’s definitely more interesting. But what’s this all about Suri? What are you trying to tell me?” John asked again. Only this time, there was a bit of frustration in his voice.

“In the days to come, much of what was the fruits of our past shall come back upon us. It shall affect the life you have made for yourself and the lives of those around you.”

“Suri, is God talking to you again?”

“I already told you no, John. I am still forsakened.”

“But you still see things?”

“Sometimes John. Sometimes. But neither linearly nor clearly. At least, not as clearly as I use to.”

“I see. So do you suggest a course of action then?”

“I know and understand too little to presume to advise you, John, save for those earrings. It would be best if you refrained from giving them away as a gift.

“Seriously? That’s it?” John asked.

“Yes. I suspect they would serve you best if you held onto them for a while.”

“I was kinda hoping for something a little more definitive, Suri.”

Again, the big man said nothing in reply. John tipped his head back and swallowed the last of his M&Ms by pouring what remained straight from the bag into his mouth. When he was done, Suriel was gone. There was however, a lone, white feather, which John picked up with the intentions of pocketing. Before he could do so, his heightened senses detected a very familiar scent. “Suriel, what the hell have you been up to?” John spoke aloud before walking away.

Chapter four of five coming next week.

“God Incognito” will be released later this year in both epub and book formats.