John Taylor's powers (The Unnatural Inquirer)

Another example of John seeing an afterimage of a person's past with his gift:

I fired up my gift, and the world changed around me. I couldn’t use my gift to pin down Max’s current location; I need a specific question to get a specific answer. But there’s more than one way to find someone who doesn’t want to be found. I opened up my inner eye, my third eye, and Saw the world as it really is. There’s a lot going on around us that most people aren’t aware of, and it’s probably just as well. If they knew who and what we share this world with, an awful lot of them would probably rip their own heads off rather than see it.

There were things in the office with us, drifting on currents unknown to mortal men, filling the aether like the tiny creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. And just as ugly. I focused my gift, concentrating on Max Maxwell, and his ghost image appeared before me—his past, imprinted on Time.

Max was just as big as everyone said he was. A giant of a man, huge and looming even in this semi-transparent state. Eight feet tall, and impressively broad across the chest and shoulders, he wore an impeccably cut cream-coloured suit, presumably chosen to contrast with the deep black of his harsh, craggy face. He looked like he’d been carved out of stone, a great brooding gargoyle in a Saville Row suit. He was scowling fiercely, his huge dark hands clenched into fists. -The Unnatural Inquirer

(Note: The statement of him being unable to pin down a person's current location is contradicted by numerous other showings from prior books, so ignore it.)

Yet another example of the many hidden things John can see with his third eye:

We tracked Max Maxwell’s ghost half-way across the Nightside. I had to fight to concentrate on his past image. When my inner eye is cranked all the way open, I can See all there is to See in the Nightside, and a lot of it the human mind just isn’t equipped to deal with. The endlessly full moon hung low in the star-speckled sky, twenty times the size it should have been. Something with vast membranous wings sailed across the face of the moon, almost eclipsing it. The buildings around us blazed with protective signs, magical defences, and shaped curses scrawled across the storefronts like so much spitting and crackling graffiti. A thousand other ghosts stamped and raged and howled silently all around me, memories trapped in repeating loops of Time, like insects in amber.

Dimensional travellers flashed and flared in and out of existence, just passing through on their way to somewhere more interesting. Demons rode the backs of unsuspecting souls, their claws dug deep into back and shoulder muscles, whispering in their host’s ear. You could always tell which ones had been listening; their demons were particularly fat and bloated. Wee winged sprites, pulsing with light, shot up and down the street, fierce as fireworks, buzzing around and above each other in intricate patterns too complex for human eyes. And the Awful Ones, huge and ancient, moved through our streets and buildings as though they weren’t even there, about their unguessable business. -The Unnatural Inquirer

John uses some of the black pepper in his coat as a surprise attack, blinding Max Maxwell with it:

Max fell on all fours, ignoring the blood that still spurted from his maimed hand, scrambling in the shadows for the Key. I let go of Suzie’s waist, and we walked purposefully forward. Suzie chambered another round, and Max rose suddenly, the Key raised triumphantly in his good hand. He snarled at me, and I leaned forward and threw a handful of black pepper right into his face.


I never travel anywhere without condiments.

The pepper filled Max’s eyes and nose, and he fell backwards, sneezing so hard it shook his whole body, while his eyes screwed shut around streaming tears. He couldn’t even hold on to the Aquarius Key, let alone concentrate enough to operate it, and the metal box fell to the ground before him. So I just stooped down and took it away from him. Suzie nodded respectfully to me.

“You always did know the best ways to fight dirty.” -The Unnatural Inquirer

John can use his gift to find traces of old magic that once ran a place, then put it back in touch with whatever is tied to said location:

The horses were very close now, but she still held her ground. The first wooden head lunged forward, and rusting teeth snapped shut on her black leather sleeve.

Which meant it was down to me, and one last desperate idea. I raised my gift and used it to find the last traces of the old magic that had once run the Faire, when it was still just an amusement park. Some last vestiges of that old innocent magic still remained, untouched by all the prayers and exorcisms, the evil and the horror, and I found it and put it back in touch with the wooden horses.

They stumbled to a halt, one by one, as the old magic stubbornly reinstated the terms of the original compact. And one by one the horses were dragged back to the Merry-Go-Round. They fought it all the way, shaking their heads and stamping their heavy feet, but back they went. And as they stepped backwards up onto the Merry-Go-Round, the old steel poles slammed down again, piercing their wooden bodies through and holding them mercilessly in place. -The Unnatural Inquirer

John's phone is equipped to banish possessing entities:

Some days they won’t even give you a chance to catch your breath. Suzie and I were just walking out of Fun Faire when my mobile phone rang. (The ring tone is the theme from The Twilight Zone. When I find a joke I like, I tend to stick with it.) An unctuous voice murmured in my ear.

“You have one phone call and one important message. Which would you like to hear first?”

“The call,” I said determinedly.

“I’m sorry,” said the voice. “I’m afraid I have been paid to insist you listen to the important message first. Have you ever considered the importance of good Afterlife insurance?”

I sighed, hit the exorcism function on the phone, and was gratified to hear the voice howl in pain as it was forced out of my phone. Admail…You’ll never convince me it isn’t a plot by demons from Hell to make life not worth living. -The Unnatural Inquirer

(He also has The Twilight Zone's theme as his ringtone. Yeah.)

He threatens to beat someone until their head comes off their shoulders:

He looked at me searchingly. “I understand you’ve done some work for Julien Advent, at the Night Times.”

“On occasion,” I said. “I approve of Julien.”

Scoop smirked unpleasantly. “I could tell you some things about him…”

“Don’t,” I said firmly. “First, I wouldn’t believe them; and second, if you were to insult my good friend Julien Advent, I would then find it necessary to beat you severely about the head and shoulders. Quite probably until your head came off, after which I would play football with it up and down the inner offices.” -The Unnatural Inquirer

John's ability to "stare people down" works through magic barriers:

The Doorman sniffed disdainfully, gestured languidly with one hand, and a shimmering wall of force sprang up between us. I fell back a step, sensing the terrible power running through the field. This was new. The old Doorman had relied on sheer obnoxious personality, of which he had a lot, to keep the riff-raff out. That, and a punch that could concuss a cow. Presumably the Club had decided it needed a more sturdy defence these days. The new Doorman wasn’t actually sneering at me, he wouldn’t lower himself that much; but it felt like he was. And I couldn’t have that.

I stepped forward again, so close to the field I could feel it prickling on my skin, and looked the Doorman right in the eye. He met my gaze coldly, with a supercilious stare. I kept looking at him, and he began to shake, as he realised he couldn’t look away. Beads of sweat popped out all over his face as I held his gaze with mine, and he started to make low, whimpering sounds.

“Drop the screen,” I said. “We’re coming in.”

The screen snapped off. I looked away, and the Doorman collapsed, sitting down suddenly on the steps as though all the strength had gone out of his legs. He actually flinched back as I led Bettie up the steps past him. She looked at me, frowning, as we approached the massive front door of the Londinium Club.

“What the hell did you do to him?”

“I stared him down,” I said.

“That really wasn’t a very nice thing to do, sweetie. He was only doing his job. I’m not sure I want you holding my arm any more.”

“Suit yourself,” I said. “I don’t always have time for nice. Or the inclination.” -The Unnatural Inquirer

John flashbangs a Tyrannosaurus rex (yes, really):

I marched back to the cage bars, Bettie moving unhappily along with me. The T. rex stepped out into the open, grinning at me with its terrible jaws. The feeding arms high up on the barrel chest clutched spasmodically at the air. I reached into my coat-pocket and took out a flashbang. I gestured for Bettie to cover her eyes and ears, then tossed the flashbang into the cage. The T. rex started forward. I closed my eyes, covered my ears, and turned my head away, and the flashbang exploded, filling the world with a fierce incandescent glare. I could still see it through my clenched-shut eyes. The T. rex screamed like a steam whistle. I turned back, grabbed Bettie’s hand, and we squeezed quickly between the steel bars. Designed to keep the T. rex in, not people out. The T. rex stamped its great feet up and down, swinging its wedge-shaped head back and forth, trying to shake off the pain in its dazzled eyes. And I ran straight at the creature, with Bettie pounding gamely along at my side.

The heat hit me like a blast furnace, and the stench was almost unbearable. The T. rex knew we were coming, but it was too confused to place us. It snapped at the empty air, the heavy jaws slamming together like a man-trap. I headed for the gap between its legs. I think it sensed how close we were, because the great head came sweeping down. Bettie and I ran straight between its wide-set legs and out the other side, hardly having to duck at all. The T. rex’s head smashed into the ground as it missed us.

By the time the T. rex had shaken off its daze and its new headache, and got itself turned around, I’d already found the Collector’s door and got it open. It wasn’t even locked, the smug bastard. I pushed Bettie through and followed her in. I turned to shut the door, and there was the T. rex, shrieking with rage as it lurched towards the door. I blew a raspberry at it, and shut the door in its face. -The Unnatural Inquirer

His quick-thinking allows him to deal with the thing a second time, fairly easily:

We headed back to the door. Bettie was still frowning thoughtfully.

“Once we’re back in the artificial jungle, we’ve still got to face one very pissed-off Tyrannosaurus rex. How are we going to get past it this time?”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll think of something.”

And I did. -The Unnatural Inquirer

(No, we don't actually get to see what he does this time around.)

John easily turns two armies against each other with just a few words:

And then, just when it was all going so well, Uptown Taffy Lewis came storming up the street from the other direction, at the head of his own small army of bully-boys, body-guards, and enforcers. All of them heavily armed. I turned my back on Queen Helena to face him. Bettie made a sound deep in her throat and stuck so close to me she was practically hiding inside my coat-pocket. Taffy stamped up to me, planted his expensively tailored bulk in front of me, paused a moment to get his breath back after his exertions, and then ignored me to scowl at Queen Helena and the Exiles.

“Why are you talking with these has-beens?” he growled to me. “You know where the real power is in the Nightside. Why didn’t you come and talk to me?”

“I don’t really want to talk to anyone,” I said wistfully. “I keep telling everyone I’m busy right now, but…”

“Whatever they’ve offered you, I’ll double it,” said Taffy. “And unlike them, you can be sure I’ll deliver. I want you on my side, Taylor, and I always get what I want.”

“I suggest you take this up with Helena,” I said. “She seems to believe she has exclusive rights to me. And you wouldn’t believe some of the nasty things she’s been saying about you.”

And then all I had to do was step quickly to one side, as Uptown Taffy Lewis lurched forward to confront Queen Helena, screaming insults into her cold and unyielding face. She hissed insults right back at him, then the Exiles got involved with Taffy’s lieutenants, and suddenly both armies were going for each other’s throats. I had already retreated to a safe distance, hauling Bettie along with me, and we watched fascinated as open warfare broke out right in front of us. The tourists loved it, watching it all from a safe distance, and even recording it so they could enjoy it again later. -The Unnatural Inquirer

John no-sells a transmutation spell from a powerful combat sorcerer:

While I was distracted, Ace hit me with a transformation spell. I cried out in shock as the spell crawled all over me, cramping my muscles and coursing through my neural system. Pain bent me in two, and sweat dripped from my face. I could feel my skin stretching and distorting, trying to find a new shape. Discharging energies spat and crackled around me, but for all its power, the spell couldn’t find a foothold in me. Slowly, I straightened up again, fighting back the effects of the spell, throwing it off through sheer force of will. I smiled slowly at Ace, a cold and nasty death’s-head grin, and he fell back a pace as the last of his spell fell away from me, defeated.

“So,” he said harshly. “It’s true. You’re not human. That spell would have worked on any man.”

“A man might have shown you mercy,” I said. “But we’re beyond that now.” -The Unnatural Inquirer

John can use his gift to tear away the controls and restraints to magical items/sources of power, causing them to release all of their power at once:

He thrust his conceptual gun in my face. I grabbed his pointing finger and broke it. And while he was distracted by the pain, I reached automatically for my gift, to find some weakness in his defences…and it was there, just waiting to be used. I didn’t waste any time wondering why. I simply fired up my gift, reached out with my mind, and found the operating spells controlling the combat sorcerers’ magical items. And then it was the easiest thing in the world to tear away all the items’ controls and restraints and let the amulets and charms and fetishes release all their power at once.

I could have fixed it so they would discharge harmlessly, but I didn’t feel like being merciful.

The magical items exploded like grenades, blowing their owners apart. Thirteen cowboys cried out in shock and pain and horror as their power sources punched holes through their chests, tore off their arms, or blew their heads apart. It was all over in a few moments, and then there were thirteen dead combat sorcerers lying on the bar-room floor, in slowly spreading pools of blood and gore. -The Unnatural Inquirer

As mentioned much earlier in the series, John can find the source of a person's powers. In this case, he finds a parasite rooted inside Pen Donavon's body:

“How is he doing this?” said Alex. “This bar has defences and protections laid down by Merlin himself!”

“Yes,” I said. “Where is the power coming from to let him do something like this?”

I fired up my gift, and looked at Pen Donavon through my third eye, my private eye. And I found the hidden source of his unnatural power. I could See the thing, inside his body, tucked away under the sternum and over the heart. It must have come to his little shop as just another piece of interdimensional flotsam and jetsam; and he probably hadn’t realised how powerful it was until he accidentally activated it. Probably hadn’t even realised it was alive until it forced its way inside him. Now it was attached to him, a part of him, with long tendrils reaching into his heart and gut and brain. A mystical parasite, living off him while feeding him power in return.

I couldn’t tear it out of him without killing him in the process. And I didn’t want to kill Pen Donavon, even after all the trouble he’d caused. None of this was really his fault. I doubt he’d had a free and uninfluenced thought of his own since the parasite took up residence inside him. -The Unnatural Inquirer

John can use his gift to pull the dead out of the afterlife and back to the mortal plane:

Suddenly I knew what the parasite fed on.

I got angry then. I could kill Donavon, rip the parasite right out of him. But he didn’t deserve that. Not when there was a better way. I’m John Taylor, and I find things. Things, and people, and just sometimes, a way out of Hell for those who need it.

I raised my gift and forced my inner eye all the way open, making it look in a direction I normally had sense enough to avoid. I concentrated, drawing on every resource I had, and I Saw beyond this world and into the Next. I found who I was looking for and called his name; and he came. A great door opened up in the middle of the bar, spilling a bright and brilliant light into the crimson glare, forcing it back. All the demons stopped and looked round, as a great mongrel dog with a shaggy head and drooping ears bounded out of the door and into the bar. He went straight for the demons nearest Donavon, and tore right through them, gripping them with his powerful jaws and shaking them back and forth like a terrier with a rat. The demons cried out miserably, and fell apart. Donavon looked at the dog, and his whole face lit up in amazed disbelief.

“Prince?”

“Typical,” said the dog, spitting out a bit of demon, then trotting over to push his great shaggy head into Donavon’s lap. “Can’t turn my back on you for five minutes.”

“I’m so sorry, Prince. I’m so sorry.” Donavon could hardly get the words out. He bent over and hugged the dog round the neck.

“It’s all right,” said the dog. “Humans can’t think for shit when they’re in heat. It was her fault, not yours. You were just weak; she was the bad one.”

“Do you forgive me, Prince?”

“Of course; that’s what dogs do. Another good reason why all dogs go to Heaven. Now come along with me, Pen. It’s time to go.”

Donavon looked at the wonderful light falling out of the door in the middle of the bar. “But…you’re dead, Prince.”

“Yes. And so are you. You’ve been dead ever since that parasite ate its way into you. Don’t you remember? No; I suppose it won’t let you. Either way, it’s only the parasite’s energies that have been keeping you going, so it could feed on your pain and fear.” The dog paused. “You know, there’s nothing like being dead for increasing your vocabulary. I’ve been so much more articulate since I crossed over. Anyone got a biscuit? No? Come with me, Pen. Heaven awaits.”

“Will we be together, Prince?”

“Of course, Pen. Forever and ever and ever.” -The Unnatural Inquirer

John finds the higher-dimensional entity fused with Kid Cthulhu and forcibly separates it from him, taking away the latter's power:

I called up my gift, and looked at Kid Cthulhu with my inner eye. If I couldn’t fight the man, maybe I could fight what was inside him. I used my gift to find the taint, the inhuman corruption deep within his flesh, the thing from Outside that was slowly suffusing his human form. And having found it, it was the easiest thing in the world to rip the taint right out of him.

Kid Cthulhu screamed; and for the first time, he sounded human. He fell to his knees, no longer able to sustain his massive weight once the taint from Outside was gone. He fell forward onto his face, his flesh moving in great ripples of fat. And beside him stood the taint, a horrid twisting shape that made no sense at all in only three spatial dimensions. It howled its fury, in a voice I heard more with my mind than my ears. It didn’t belong in this world, stripped of the host it had been transforming into something suitable to birth its new form. I wondered briefly what that might have been. Nothing like Kid Cthulhu, certainly. It hurt just to look at the taint. Like a colour too vile for our spectrum, a shape like a living Rorschach blot that suggested only nightmares. Its very presence in this world was like fingernails scraping down the blackboard of my soul. -The Unnatural Inquirer

Once Kid Cthulhu's source of power is gone, John breaks his neck with a single stomp:

I looked thoughtfully at Kid Cthulhu, still lying where he’d fallen like a beached whale. I walked slowly over to him, Bettie trotting at my side. She managed to make it clear she was there to be leaned on, if necessary, but was considerate enough not to say it out loud. I stood over Kid Cthulhu, and he rolled his flat black eyes up in his stretched face to look at me.

“Kill you, Taylor. Kill you for this. Kill you, and all your friends, and everyone you know. I have people. I’ll send them after you, and I’ll never stop, never. Never!”

“I believe you,” I said. And I raised my foot and stamped down hard, right on the back of his fat neck. I felt as much as heard his neck break under my foot, and as easily as that the life went out of him. -The Unnatural Inquirer

John finds the origin of the Removal Man's existence-erasing powers and broadcasts the knowledge to him, driving him to commit suicide with his own powers:

I raised my gift again and Saw right through the Removal Man. It wasn’t difficult to find out who he’d really made his deal with and show him the truth. Not God. Not God at all. I showed the Removal Man who’d really been pulling his strings all this time, and he screamed like a soul newly damned to Hell. He staggered back and forth on the raised stage, shaking his head in denial, even as he cried out in shock and loathing. Until finally, unable to face who and what he really was, he turned his power on himself and disappeared.

And that was the end of the Removal Man. -The Unnatural Inquirer