by Tricia Owens
Echinacious had followed me outside. I begged him, "Will you watch them for me? I need to grab my friends and bring them over here."
"You might consider taking them to Tomes," the goblin suggested. "The young proprietor knows a thing or two about demonic injuries."
Chastising myself for being an idiot and thinking some Neosporin would be enough to treat Vale and Christian, I summoned Lucky and again had him carry my friends as I ran to Tomes. Echinacious remained behind at his gallery, but I didn't blame him; he had his own concerns now that the Infernus Rift capstone had reformed inside his gallery.
I pounded on the front door of Tomes. It opened beneath my barrage, Orlaton not bothering with the sliding window as if he knew this was an emergency.
"Please help them!" I cried out to him as soon as the door swung open.
He took one look at Lucky hovering behind me, clutching the bodies of Vale and Christian, gaped at the sight for a few seconds, but then swiftly recovered and said crisply, "Wait here while I fetch two gurneys."
I wanted to yell at him, but he was right; Lucky wouldn't fit through the doorway while holding the men. So I ran after Orlaton and helped him push the gurneys back through the shop to the front door. We laid Vale and Christian on them and then rushed them back through the shop.
"Why do you have these?" I panted as we raced between the bookcases.
"You might be surprised to hear how often people faint or are injured during occult rituals," Orlaton replied. "I have played nursemaid many times."
"What about occult medicine? Can you do that?"
"We shall see."
"Vagasso turned into a demonic scorpion," I told him. "He stung them. I milked the venom out, but I don't know if I did enough."
"We'll see," he repeated.
He led us into the windowed room where he'd confessed that he didn't trust me. I watched, feeling helpless and useless, as he collected various stoppered jars and vials and arranged them in a line along the metal table that I'd first guessed was an autopsy table.
"Get out, Miss Moody," he said, frowning with concentration as he began selecting strange implements from a drawer. "Your presence will only confuse the energies."
"Please, can't I help?"
"You will help by leaving me to work without interruption."
I laced my fingers behind my neck but eventually nodded. "Okay. Fine. I'll just—I'll be right outside. Right here."
He frowned at my babbling. "Go."
I turned to leave, but he said, "Did you stop it? The Rift?"
I had to answer honestly. "I don't know."
His shoulders rose and fell as with a deep sigh. "Time will tell. Now go."
I went.
Standing around doing nothing while Vale and Christian's lives were on the line was maddening. I couldn't take it. I opened my mouth to ask Orlaton if his phone was lying around and as if summoned by my thoughts, I spied an old fashioned land line sitting on an end table. I snatched up the receiver and quickly dialed Melanie.
I ran outside to meet her.
Smoke rose in the near distance, in the direction of the Strip. Helicopters continued to circle the area and sirens seemed to blare from every direction along with automobile alarms. It was noisy, sure, but the ground no longer moved. It felt as though the worst had passed. The worst when it came to demons, anyway. I couldn't bring myself to consider what the fallout of all this sorcery might be.
Melanie and her Prius took longer than I expected to reach me. When she finally parked and jumped out, she blurted, "I had to drive all over the place to get here! Dios mio, the roads are completely trashed!"
"Melanie," I said and couldn't say more. My throat closed up.
Horror crossed her face. She ran to me and flung her arms around me. "What's wrong?"
"Vale and Christian," I choked out. "Vagasso tried to kill them."
She tensed and then her small arms nearly squeezed the life from me as she asked in a hushed voice, "Christian?"
I recalled how he'd asked me to look after Melanie if he was killed. Clearly she felt the same intensity of emotions for him. At any other time I would have rejoiced, but now I only felt more stress.
"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "But he's with Orlaton, and Orlaton knows everything, right? Kid's a genius."
Melanie began to cry, and that wrecked me. I bent over the top of her head and fought back my own tears. "It'll be okay," I told her as confidently as I could. "We stopped Vagasso and closed the Rift. The good guys have to come out on top. That's how it's supposed to work."
Sniffing, she looked up at me. "You stopped Vagasso?"
"I bit his head off, Melly."
She smiled tremulously. "Right on, Anne."
Wiping her eyes, she pulled back and looked at the skyline. "The city's a mess, but as long as the Rift is closed, who cares?"
I nodded, but I began to wonder if things were as simple as that. A whole lot of magick had gone down in public. Though I hadn't seen that many non-magickals, I'd seen enough, and they'd certainly gotten an eyeful of Lucky. And that didn't count the people in hiding that I hadn't noticed.
Melanie tugged on my arm. "I want to see him."
I led her back inside, warning her along the way that Orlaton had demanded that we butt out of it. But by the time we reached his lab or whatever it was, he stood there waiting for us.
"They're awake," he said in response to my anxious, questioning look. "Weak, but stable."
Melanie and I tumbled into the room. The guys were still laid out on the gurneys, but as Orlaton had said, they were conscious.
"You look like hell," I told Vale as I clasped the hand that he extended to me. I brushed his sweat-damp hair from his eyes. "You're gorgeous."
He smiled wanly. "I sincerely doubt that."
I touched his chest with my free hand. "Your back?"
"Feels like I've been attacked by an axe. I also seem to be burning from the inside."
"That would be the anti-venom I've injected into your veins," Orlaton said, coming up beside me. He crossed his arms. "Your body is also producing antibodies to fight off infection. You're not well yet, but you'll live."
"I'll recover quickly," Vale told us wearily. "My gargoyle physiology will see to that."
"Fascinating," Orlaton murmured with a raised eyebrow.
"Spock, what about Christian?" I asked him. "How's he doing?"
We all looked over at Melanie and him. She was too short to fully curl over him on the gurney, but she'd laid her head on his shoulder and he was gently, shakily stroking her hair. It was ridiculously sweet and I wished I had a phone to snap a photo.
"His physiology reacted differently to the treatment," Orlaton said quietly. "I'll need to put him on a saline drip. Brimstone has a nasty habit of dehydrating water feys."
I choked. "You healed them with brimstone?" I couldn't help searching Vale's temples for horns.
"Vagasso was a thing of Hell," Orlaton explained. He sounded annoyed that I'd questioned him. "Just as with anti-venom, a dose of what ails you is often the most effective countermeasure."
It sounded nuts to me, but I couldn't doubt the results. "I believe you, Orlaton. Good thinking."
He relaxed, looking mollified. "Christian will recover fully in time. Draining the venom saved their lives, Miss Moody. Congratulations."
I shrugged off the compliment. "I just wish I could have prevented them from being stung in the first place."
Vale's hand tightened around mine. His expression turned fierce. "Vagasso? The Rift?"
"Dead and closed," I told him, allowing myself to feel a measure of satisfaction. I would never be able to celebrate death, but in this case I'd done what had to be done. I might even be able to sleep at night. "I created the Geminix and it appears to have closed the Rift. There won't be any partying like it's 1999, I'm sorry to say. Las Vegas is safe for the time being."
"Vagasso is dead," Vale repeated, searching my face. He seemed awed. "Moody..."
"I'm okay with it," I assured him. "It needed to be done and I'm not scarred by it. I'm...glad it's over."
As soon as I said that, my knees turned sorta rubbery and I had to brace myself against the gurney. Vale tugged me down and I gratefully rested my forehead against his chest, mirroring Melanie's position with Christian.
"It's over," I whispered. "I beat them. We beat them. I nearly can't believe it. If I didn't have this disgusting taste in my mouth I'm not sure I would."
"Your parents would be proud," Vale murmured.
Maybe, but not for killing Vagasso. They'd be proud that I'd recovered from my mistake in destroying the capstone. I wasn't perfect. I made mistakes and exhibited poor judgment all the time. But the key was not succumbing. The key was recovering. I think I'd done an okay job of that this time.
I lifted my head and gazed at his face, which still held hints of exhaustion and pain. He would have gladly given his life for me, but I was tremendously glad that it hadn't been necessary. "Thank you for not dying."
He smirked tiredly. "Thank you for not letting me die, Moody. There's still a lot I want to share with you."
I liked the sound of that. I rested my forehead against his and finally closed my eyes.
Chapter 12
"The bathroom is bloody," I warned Vale as he slid out of bed. "Just FYI so you don't think I'm a terrible housekeeper."
He paused in the doorway. "Terrible housekeepers leave hair clogged in the sink, not buckets of blood on the walls and ceiling."
"Hey, you know I like to go big," I said with a shrug.
I blinked hard, as I'm sure he did, also, and the curse's illusion of a massacre disappeared and the seafoam tiles reappeared. Their blue-green hue reflected off his bare skin as he paused in front of the mirror and twisted to attempt to see his back.
"It's fading," I told him as I sat up in bed. I stretched my arms while studying the healing wound between his shoulder blades. It resembled a bullet wound, which was miles better than how it had looked just four days ago. "Soon, you'll be back to your pretty self."
"Men don't like to be called pretty, Moody."
"Studly? Is that better?"
He threw me a look before turning on the shower.
As he bathed, I pulled on some clothes and opened up my laptop while I perched on the end of the bed. The internet, like a child with ADD, was no longer dominated by news about the devastating earthquake which had struck Las Vegas earlier in the week. A little kid had been thrown off a roller coaster and the internet was busy raging about whether the kid had been too young or too short to ride. The wrecking of Sin City was on its way to becoming old news.
I still found some of the video footage fascinating. There had been plenty of news crews recording from helicopters while the Rift had been cracked. Experts debated on whether the orange glow seen through the cracks running up Las Vegas Boulevard had been rising magma. That prospect seemed to excite a lot of people. Some of the uninformed wondered if we were sitting atop an active volcano. Scientists and other research crews could be seen on the Strip these days, studying the inert, dark split in the earth.
The Strip was closed for the first time since the city's founding. It had been trashed, with all the major casinos suffering not only extensive cosmetic damage but many with structural damage as well. Construction crews swarmed the length of the boulevard, attempting to repair the extensive damage and clean up the debris. Cranes and scaffolding were already going up around casinos. Recovery would take some time even for a city that could slap up a 4,000 room casino in a year. Tourism was going to take a huge hit in the months ahead.
I'd scoured all the videos on YouTube, checking to see if anyone had managed to record Lucky, the wolves, or Vagasso, but so far I hadn't seen anything. That surprised me a lot. It almost didn't make any sense. I remember meeting the eyes of non-magickals who had seen me using magick. There had been thousands of people on the Strip that night. Not one of them had been able to use their phone? But I told myself I should just be relieved. A giant golden dragon couldn't be easily explained away. Hell, it couldn't be explained even with elaborate flow charts. It was magick, plain and simple, and it was damning.
But apparently no one had proof of anything. Even the scene at the Shark Reef had been chalked up to a gas leak and explosions caused by the erupting fissure. Amazingly, no one claimed to have seen Dr. Morrow's sea monster despite dozens of people having run from it. And what of the security cameras in the aquarium? Again, they miraculously hadn't recorded anything. Damage from the quake, officials claimed. It was the explanation for everything.
Hey, I wasn't an idiot. I wasn't about to question it and demand an inquiry. I wanted it all to go away, and it seemed that things were heading that way. Christian was healing nicely the way Vale was. Lev still hadn't shown up, and I was determined, along with Celestina, to think positively. In another few days, if he remained a no-show, I would go looking for him. But my fingers were crossed that my help wouldn't be needed.
I'd stuck a sign on Moonlight's door stating that the owner was gone on vacation. I planned to lay low for a good long while, not only because of the media, but because there had to have been witnesses in the magickal community who might blame me for what had happened that night. Right now I couldn't definitively say who knew what. So to be safe, I figured it was better to remain out of sight and out of mind.
But that didn't mean I was out of the game. I slid off the bed and walked out into the shop. I peered through the front window at what I could see of the Gallery of Veritatis. The capstone was now located there, guarded by Echinacious and the magickal security he had in place. I intended to keep an eye on it, too, because there was still the matter of the Oddsmakers...
Were they pissed that I'd killed Vagasso? Did they fear I'd come after them next? Or did they still believe that I was their sucker and could be tricked into opening the capstone again? They were the wild card, and my concern about them kept me sleeping lightly at night, braced for the next time they sucked me into their haunted hidey hole.
Vale emerged from the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. I blatantly stared while he dressed, which amused him.
"Put your eyes back in your head," he told me. He joined me at the window and looked out. "Still quiet?"
"Eerily so. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this is weird."
"Maybe good fortune is finally on our side."
"Maybe," I said, but I didn't really feel it. A nagging voice in my head warned me that this was yet another calm before the storm. But in what form would that storm take?
I deliberately put my back to the window and draped my arms around Vale's shoulders. "Orlaton thinks those businesses that guarded the nine seals are using magick to repair them. Do you think they can?"
"I think if anyone can, it would be them," he replied as he rested his hands on my hips. "They weren't chosen to guard those seals for no reason. They'll all be ancient beings with extensive knowledge."
"I guess you're right. I'd like to talk to them, but I don't think now is the time. Maybe after everything quiets down..."
Assuming that moment would ever come. What if the city remained in magickal turmoil from now on, with everyone terrified of another attack on the Rift? Eventually they'd turn on me, since I was their closest link to the Oddsmakers.
"Anne Moody, the past will come calling..."
"What's lost will be found..."
"But it may be the end of you!"
"The end of Anne Moody!"
I startled at the sound of the cursed cameos, harping to me in my head.
"What is it?" Vale asked me, frowning.
"The cameos," I told him. "Celestina said they're harbingers of doom. They just told me something bad is going to happen."
His mouth thinned. "They also told you someone would betray you. That turned out to be you betraying the Oddsmakers. It's the interpretation that matters. Don't immediately assume the worst."
Easier said
than done, but he was right. The cameos could have been referring to anything. I couldn't freak out just yet.
A hand cupping my cheek brought me out of my musings. "Whatever happens, it'll be okay. You've proven yourself more than capable, Moody, of facing down anything."
I chewed on my bottom lip and then whispered, "Do you think it's time for me to go after the Oddsmakers?"
His pupils expanded. I could see the stress slide across his face. "I don't think—"
The front door burst open. Black-clad bodies rushed into the shop. I thought wildly, The wards are up! I locked the door! None of that mattered and Vale and I had no time to react. We were torn away from each other and thrown face-first to the ground.
"What's going on?" I yelled.
A black hood was pulled over my head. Zip ties secured my wrists behind my back. I was forcibly picked up off the floor and carried out of the shop. I thought of calling out Lucky, but then I heard the sound of a van door sliding open. Yeah, I knew this movie, unfortunately. A moment later I was tossed through the air to land on the cold, hard floor of a vehicle. A body hit the floor beside me. Vale.
The sliding door slammed shut and the vehicle lurched into movement. When I tried to roll upright, a booted foot pressed down on my shoulder.
"Miss Moody, if you're smart you'll behave until we reach our destination."
"Who are you?" I demanded.
A pinprick of pain in my biceps made me gasp with understanding. "What did you just inject into me?!"
"Just relax, Miss Moody. You're going somewhere where we can ask you a few questions."
My thundering heart began to slow as the drug they'd injected into me began to act. I wanted to ask more, but I didn't really need to. I knew what was happening. After a lifetime of being careful, I'd finally caught the attention of the U.S. government.
Author's Note
My friend, geochemist Kevin Donahue, was the one who told me about the existence of the Vegas Valley Shear Zone as well as other fault lines beneath Las Vegas. While none are capable of ushering up demons, they do pose a risk to the Las Vegas Valley and its inhabitants. Nevada is arguably the safest state in the U.S. when it comes to natural disasters, however, it's not without its own pitfalls which have nothing to do with gambling odds.
