Hard Number - Chapter Two

In Search of a Spell

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Travel had become tedious. John Sullivan sat by the window, listening to the train bakes screech while it pulled into Boston Station while wondering how long this trip would take. His suitcases suggested he was an entrepreneur, as did the suit he wore and the way he held himself. In some regards, that was true.

In others, it completely missed the mark.

It was the story the twenty-five-year-old told others when they saw a young man traveling alone, and sometimes, he was there on the company’s dime. He’d convinced his father to pursue export opinions in places like England and Canada. When he wanted to follow a lead in Spain, he’d told the Sullivan patriarch that Spanish manufacturing had a textile worth bringing into the factory. Often enough, he could find things that justified the requests.

For Boston, he’d claimed they could find better machines. In his briefcase, he had a contact’s name, and an address prepared, promising word on his progress within two weeks. A journal, though, contained a different name with an address to something he shouldn’t know existed. He was human and normal humans didn’t wander into the places where he’d been lately.

They certainly didn’t find themselves in the middle of a magical black market.

His only friend, a witch named Alice, had been the one to give him the location, as well as a talisman to sell for the items on his list. “You should be the one doing this,” he’d said before leaving Rochester, but only one of them could keep watch over his pet project. And of the two, the one with actual powers made the most sense to play guardian.

“At least no one will know outright that you’re not one of us,” she’d said. “Keep the transaction simple and stay out of trouble, and you’ll do fine.”

Stay out of trouble. John smirked while the train slowed, the brakes squealing until they stopped beside a platform teeming with people. As he stood to fetch his things, he excused himself past a couple headed onward to Maine and hurried to be one of the first people off the train. The porter had his luggage waiting and a generous tip ensured his luggage made it to one of the waiting carriages.

“The Parker House hotel,” he instructed the driver. “And your suggestion for a good place to eat?”

The driver nodded and, after John had settled in the carriage, started for the Theater District. As soon as they set off, John pulled out his briefcase and began scanning the documents intended for the machine manufacturer. Their meeting would be in two days, and once he was sure he had his father’s proposal sorted, he put the normal work aside. John let his mind go blank until he’d reached the hotel, where he’d arranged for a two-week stay.

With any luck, the person he needed to see would be in town well before then.

John stepped out of the carriage when they arrived at Parker House and paid the driver. A porter took his luggage into the building and at the front desk, the concierge found the records of wires exchanged and assigned him to his room. It felt good to shut the door behind him, key in hand and a few extra dollars liberated from his wallet to tip the porter. Though the driver had recommended several eating establishments, John found the bed first and collapsed onto it.

“Not much longer,” he said to himself, lying stomach-down on the mattress and turning his head to admire the rest of the room. “Once I get the lock, I can rest easier. Might even sleep until the turn of the century.”

He laughed at himself and, as tempting as it was to think about the lock, he let himself consider creature comforts first. Drawing a bath preceded getting dressed for the evening. John produced the morning’s paper at last and read the news before locking up his room and wandering out of the hotel. He waved away the offer for a carriage ride, wishing he’d been able to bring a bicycle with him and content enough to walk into the lively theater district.

Within a few moments, he found himself at a café, placing an order with the server.

Sipping a glass of scotch, John studied the people surrounding him. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of loneliness as he watched the couples around him laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Dinner gave him the ability to focus on eating, but as he sipped his coffee and played with his dessert, he let his eye rove again. So many pretty people and yet, nobody John could entertain for more than a night.