Chapter 18

Jackie made his way to Harlem, leaping over rooftops and heading to the Blue Bayou Club. Harlem ain't anywhere close to the Meatpacking District, though. It was on the other end of Manhattan from Jackie's Safehouse which ain't great but you work with what you've got. Accordingly, Jackie'd passed by a couple muggings on his way over. Ain't none of the assholes had more than a pistol to hold up folks with, and only one of 'em was fast enough or tweaked out enough to get off a shot at Jackie before Jackie put the Guy's lights out.

The Bullet'd been a forty-four Magnum, way too much gun for the basehead who'd been trying to rob a couple kids walking outta a movie theater who couldn't've been more than fifteen. He'd let off a single shot at Jackie when he'd jumped down off a fire escape to land between the two kids and the Basehead that flattened against Jackie's breastplate. The Basehead dropped his forty-four as soon as it went off, the recoil surprising him. Then Jackie smashed a fist into the Basehead's temple, knocking the man out. He collected the Forty-Four and stuffed it in his armory bag and turned to the kids.

"You kids oughtta be getting home, yeah?" He prompted.

"Right, yeah, sure." Nodded one of the Kids, a Puerto Rican Boy with a wispy mustache.

"Absolutely." Agreed the other, a Black Girl with her hair in braids.

The two rushed off and Jackie continued his trip to the Blue Bayou. The Blue Bayou, it turned out, ain't too far away from the Apollo Theater, which Jackie'd heard of. He ain't heard of the Blue Bayou before, though that was probably the way that Papa Midnite wanted it. The Man was a Voudon Houngan who'd used his mojo to grab a piece of the New York City Criminal Underworld for himself. As Jackie entered the Blue Bayou, his mystic radar pinged off a buncha unquiet dead hovering around, opening his third eye revealed that Midnite ain't just grabbed a section of the Criminal Underworld to Lord over, but the Actual Underworld too. The majority of the staff were being ridden by spirits, all of which seemed to be bound forcibly to serve Midnite in one way or another.

"I guess that's one way to get outta paying your staff." Muttered Jackie as he entered, glamoured using City Magic to look like the average inhabitant of Harlem to most folks.

Jackie bellied up to the bar and ordered a rum and coke, the Bartender mixing the drink looked to have the spirit of some poor woman who'd drowned and been forced to work for Midnite possessing her. If the Spirit Noticed Jackie peeping, it ain't given no sign, the Bartender just mixed Jackie's drink and slid it over with a grunt of, "Fifteen bucks."

Jackie nodded, paying the price which was a little too much for his taste, but then he ain't usually a cocktail guy. Muttering an incantation to detect any sorta tampering, the drink came up clean and Jackie took a sip. Honestly, even for fifteen bucks, that ain't bad. Idly, Jackie wondered what the Spirit'd done in her previous life to get that good at mixing drinks, but figured it don't matter too much. It was pretty hard to fuck up a Rum and Coke, after all.

"You look like a man with something on his mind." Came a Female Voice.

Jackie turned to see a Latina Woman in a short dress and stripper heels, though, unlike the others, she ain't had a Ghost bound to her but was an actual Succubus, bound in human form and forced to serve Papa Midnite. Jackie frowned at that, especially when the Succubus tried using her powers to convince Jackie to take her into one of the back rooms for a bit of fun. Fortunately, Jackie's Dragon Talisman helped rebuff that sorta advance, and the Succubus left with a frown on her face, heading off to the back rooms a moment later, likely to go let her boss know that there's someone out here who ain't about to fall for the usual shit.

Sure enough, a couple minutes later, Jackie felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he looked and spotted a large, bulky, guy with a glazed stare standing behind him. The guy used a shitload of aftershave to the point where Jackie'd had to breathe through his mouth to avoid gagging, but if he did, it hadta be because it'd give the game away if he didn't. Guy was an actual Zombie, of the Voudoun Kind, which meant a certain level of power beyond the normal sort a Necromancer'd call up to use as cannon fodder. With a Voudoun Zombie, if you don't cut off the head and burn it and the body, fuckers'd just come back later. They're also stronger and sturdier than normal Zombies and can take more complex commands. Probably why Midnite sent this one.

"Boss wants to see you." Rumbled the Zombie. As it spoke, Jackie'd smelled the rot cutting through the aftershave like a knife. He guessed you ain't able to aftershave away some shit, like rotting lungs and voice boxes.

"All right. Been waiting to see him anyway." Shrugged Jackie.

"Follow me." Huffed the Zombie.

Then the Zombie led Jackie into the back rooms, past the suites where Succubus-possessed chicks literally fucked the life outta unsuspecting dudes, up a set of stairs with wards that literally turned off the sorta chemical shit that made guns work on the top step, and into an office decked out in all kindsa reds and blacks.

The Floor was black wood with red carpeting, red lacquer paint covered the walls, and a red cherry desk with a black leather chair sat in front of a wall covered in the sorta mystical knick-knacks that a guy like Papa Midnite might've acquired over the past couple centuries. Jackie spotted the still-beating heart of some Guy preserved in a glass jar, a trio of statues depicting three Succubi that ominously glowed red, multiple grimoires and enchanted busts of various folks, and so on.

Sitting on the desk was the grisliest of trophies, an enchanted, glyph-scribed, human skull that seemed to be a major focus for Necromantic and Spiritual Magic, likely Papa Midnite's main focus. Jackie frowned as he saw that, something like that's gotta be real dark magic, it hadta take the sorta sacrifice that Jackie ain't sure even a guy like him'd be willing to make. That had to be the skull of someone close to Midnite, a sibling, parent, or lover. it's the only way the focus'd work the way it's supposed to.

"I see you're admiring my collection." Came an unaccented voice from off to Jackie's side.

Jackie turned to spot a Lanky Black Man in a fur-trimmed, pinstriped, suit a partially-open purple and pink striped dress shirt, and a leather trillby hat. Guy looked like a stereotype of a Black Gangster from the seventies or some shit, but the mystic power wafting off him don't lie. This was Papa Midnite, the guy Jackie'd been sent here to call off. How Constantine expected Jackie to do that, he ain't said, but Jackie figured he oughtta at least give diplomacy a shot first before jumping straight to violence, even if violence was almost definitely gonna be the solution, given all the shit going down with Necromancy and Demon Summoning.

"It's an interesting buncha stuff, that's for sure." Acknowledged Jackie.

"It is at that. Now, you've got my attention, I figured that's what you wanted, right? Why don't you take down the Glamour and show me who it is I'm dealing with before I take the Glamour off you myself?" Questioned Papa Midnite.

"Straight to business, huh?" Queried Jackie.

"It pays to get straight to business. Most folks have limited time, though that's not so much a concern for me." Intoned Papa Midnite.

"All right, since you asked nicely." Nodded Jackie, removing his Glamour with an arcane gesture.

"Black Tiger, huh? Heard of you. I've gotta wonder just why you're sniffing around in New York City, though. Last I heard, you were out in Gotham." Asked Papa Midnite.

"I'm here as a favor for a friend, one who you've apparently got it in for due to some beef over the Ace of Winchesters." Jackie admitted.

"Constantine sent you? That's rich, well tell him he can go to Hell. In fact, he's almost there literally. Got a bit of an arrangement going with Queen Triskelle of the Succubi to help me acquire my own little slice of the pit. You tell Constantine he can look forward to being sent there soon enough." Scoffed Papa Midnite.

"You're gonna send him to the Pit over the Ace of Winchesters? It's just a gun, admittedly a pretty sweet gun, but still! Be reasonable here!" Demanded Jackie.

"You think this is just about the Ace of Winchesters? Is that what Constantine told you? That was nothing, a museum piece, part of a collection, nothing more. Even the fifty grand he stole isn't worth much to me. This is about respect! Nobody steals from me and gets away with it!" Snarled Papa Midnite.

"What if Constantine paid you back for your trouble? With interest? Would that put this shit to bed?" Questioned Jackie.

"That ship sailed already. If Constantine wanted to pay me back, he would've done it before I hung the threat of the pit over his damn head!" Scowled Papa Midnite.

"You know how Constantine Works, he don't honor debts till he's forced. You forced his hand, so he'll honor the debt." Pointed out Jackie.

"No, he'll get you to come down to New York City and throw down with me instead. I'm not buying this sudden contrition you're floating. If you've got half the smarts folks say you do, then you won't buy his bullshit anymore either. Now get the fuck out of my club." Growled Papa Midnite.

"I was hoping we coulda settled this without me having to fight." Sighed Jackie.

"You want to fight me? Boy, you're centuries too early for that. Take a look at my man over there, he look familiar? Have you ever heard of Tempest of the Doom Patrol? Funny story about the Doom Patrol, they go on a bunch of adventures, keeping the torch of Costumed Heroing alive after the JSA was forced to disband. Bunch of misfits and mutants, folks who don't fit in with Normal Society. Along with Infinity Inc., they were one of the two big groups in the Costumed Set in the Seventies and Eighties. Then all of a sudden, as soon as folks like Batman and Superman show up, their boss decides that the Doom Patrol outlived their Usefulness. He decides to slaughter them all in a trap. Only Changeling survived since not even Niles Caulder was cold enough to kill a kid." Began Papa Midnite.

"So what? You found Tempest and turned him into a Zombie?" Queried Jackie.

"Among other things. I'm going to give you one last chance to fuck off out of here and back to Gotham. You're not going to win this fight, boy." Insisted Papa Midnite.

"Maybe, Maybe not. I recently gotta few upgrades might just do the trick. 'Sides, Constantine's paying me for helping him outta this jam." Shrugged Jackie.

"Paying you? Shit, whatever he's paying you can't be worth your damned life, can it?" Asked Papa Midnite.

"Not by itself, no. But we need him for what's coming down the pike. Plus you ain't exactly inspiring confidence here with all the forcibly bound ghosts and the Summoned Succubi, and shit." Nodded Jackie.

"Fuck, I gave you a chance to back down, now what comes next is on your head!" Spat Papa Midnite.

Then, the Zombie of Tempest from the Doom Patrol raised one arm and fired off some kinda thermo-kinetic energy blast that slammed into Jackie's side, knocking him sideways and through the wall. Jackie landed hard in the middle of the downstairs part of the Club, right in the center of the dance floor. Papa Midnite leaned his ass outta the hole in the wall, clutching the enchanted skull focus in one hand.

"Kill this motherfucker!" He ordered, power boosted by the Skull Focus.

Then, all the workers and attendants in the club lunged for Jackie, and he ain't had no more time for talking. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here we see the next chapter. Jackie heads to Harlem to confront Papa Midnite, who, in typical Hellblazer Villain Fashion, is up to his ass in dark necromancy and demonology. He's not only bound a bunch of Succubi to work for him as part of a deal he made to acquire a slice of Hell for himself, but he's also forcibly bound a bunch of ghosts into possessing people who are then forced to work for him in his club for no pay like a Necromantic Version of Slavery, which is Ironic given his background.

Worst of all, he managed to turn one of the Doom Patrol into an actual Voudoun Zombie. Tempest has the power to fire Thermo-kinetic bolts of energy from his hands that are powerful enough to melt through tempered steel, and also has the power of flight. As a Voudoun Zombie, he can tack super strength and super durability onto the end of that. Mind you, it's not enough to do more than annoy Jackie, given how Jackie is currently in a league shared by Olympian Gods and Kryptonians in terms of power, but combined with how he's holding back because he doesn't want to hurt the possessed workers, it'll be a challenge to deal with.

At any rate, the fight will continue in the next chapter.

Stay tuned. . .