by Livia Quinn
The cabin, what was left of it, was worse than run-down, the walls so full of holes it was a wonder the structure could support even a dilapidated roof. I looked at the sagging porch and rotted steps. It wouldn’t take a Tempestaerie to blow this house down. One good puff from Destiny’s resident Finrir would probably do it.
But it had served its purpose in hiding River’s whereabouts until now, being nearly invisible in the overgrown forest. I could feel eyes on me, whether they were from inside or our people—huh, a Freudian slip of the tongue. My neck prickled with the sixth sense that had saved my ass many a time in the air. I decided on the direct approach.
“Hello, the cabin. Sheriff’s Office. Paige Whyte, if you’re in there, we need to talk.”
I made another step and a voice rang out through the crack in the front door. “I saw you, Sheriff. Where are your men?”
I turned as if I’d forgotten about my “men” and looked back at the cabin. “I don’t have any men, Ms. Whyte. It’s just me.” Showing respect might get me in, where aggressiveness might not.
She seemed to be thinking about my statement and was probably looking for my backup in the distance, but except for the gravel street where I stood, there was little to see. My deputies’ vehicles were over a mile away. “How about you let me in, Paige? I might be able to help you get what you want.”
She was thinking again and no sounds of voices or shuffling escaped the cabin.
“Why would you want to help me?” Paige asked. Still no sign of Will; she must be calling the shots, which made sense, her being the one with some slight power.
“Eh, it’s one of those ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours’ situations. We just need to discuss what it is you want and we can make a deal, something we can both live with.”
“Leave your gun outside. Put it on the ground in front of you, very slowly. And don’t try anything. I have a pistol pointed right at you.”
I didn’t doubt it. I did as she instructed. “What now?” I asked, letting her think she was in control.
“Turn around.” I did. Once satisfied she said, “Now come up on the porch.” I heard the lock on the door being released. “I’m going to back away from the door. When you come in, stay on that side of the room. Don’t try to rush me or come near me.”
“Fine,” I said and walked toward the door, testing my weight on each rickety step before moving up to the next. I had to push hard on the door, the rusty hinges groaning and squeaking. The cabin was dimly lit from a lantern in the corner on the floor. In the waning light, the lantern cast odd shadows on everything, including Paige’s face, making her look like a ghost.
While her eyes were still adjusting from the sudden flood of outside light, I made a quick search of the large main room. There was a door near the corner on her right. Bathroom or bedroom? This area was sparsely furnished with a twin mattress shoved against the other front wall; a milk crate upended for a table sat beside a plastic lawn chair, and a huge circular oak table to my right. I tapped my fingers on the edge of it. It was sturdy, and a scanner sat on the other side. I heard the phony messages going back and forth between my men.
Still no sign of Will Crain, but on a couch on the other side of the oak table, two feet from Paige, lay River Pomeroy. If he was alive, it wouldn’t be for long. His skin was like ash and he was as frail and limp as the freshly embalmed. His once burgundy shirt was covered in dust, and the pants showed signs of his being dragged. I didn’t see his chest rising or any eyelid movement from where I was standing.
I tried to come up with a strategy but without knowing more about that gunshot, where her partner in crime was, and who might be in the other room, I was left with simply keeping my back to the wall where I had a full view of Paige and her gun.
Her clothes were disheveled, her blonde hair tangled and greasy, eyes moving back and forth frenetically. A large hank of hair had been cut, or ripped, from her red abraded scalp. The hand that wasn’t on the gun held some kind of cord attached to River.
“What’s wrong with River?”
* * *
She raised the gun, held it steady, as if she had experience. Her voice held contempt. “Why do you think I need you? I don’t. I want Dutch!” Spittle flew with her words. “Get Dutch, and you can leave. And where’s that witch?”
I assumed she meant Tempe. There was certainly no love lost here. Paige fidgeted, not with nerves, more like a drug addict in need of a fix. Could she be on something?
I tried a different tack. “Answer me, Paige. What did you give River?”
She made a guttural sound and rubbed the handle of the gun against her forehead but not long enough for me to make a move. In a gravelly, slow voice she said, “I don’t have to answer your questions. I don’t need you.”
When she shifted, the meager light illuminated the tether. It was made of hair—braided hair. Then I noticed the similar patch on River’s scalp. The cord connecting her to River was some kind of hair leash. So, I hadn’t seen it all apparently. What did it mean? Was it keeping him passive, or was it keeping him alive? My guess was the latter. Damn, that complicated things.
I answered, keeping my voice steady, “If you kill me, Dutch won’t find you. You chose your hiding place very well, Paige—you and Will, and they’ve been unable to contact River.” Again, this time making no attempt to hide my curiosity, I cast my glance around the room looking for Crain. “If I hadn’t been driving down this road when the ambulance came through, I’d have never known to check this place out.” I intentionally looked at the scanner, making sure she caught it. “You were listening on the scanner weren’t you?”
“How do I know you didn’t bring others with you?” she snarled.
“Did you hear me call for backup? I didn’t think there was anyone in this old death trap. I would have called but there’s no reception out here… look.” She backed up a step when I held my phone out, turning it around so she could see the no service message displayed on the screen.
“Why would you get Dutch for me?” she asked, suspiciously.
I put as much distaste in my voice as I could drum up. “I don’t really care what you Paramortal people do as long as you leave my town alone.” Her posture improved when she thought I viewed her as a Paramortal—someone she obviously felt had power over others, a state of power she wanted for herself. “We’ll make a deal. I get you what you want and you leave, go off to the other side of the world, New York or China for all I care, where you have a bigger population to harass.”
Paige seemed to consider that and calling her a Paramortal had earned me a few points, or at least bought me some time.
She looked over at River then back at me. “What do you want?” She was having trouble keeping a smile off her face now, her eyes wily and bright with a greedy fever. She didn’t intend to keep her part of any bargain; I knew it. The only deal this bad POP would make would be one that ensured she got Dutch in her control so she could wield all the power she’d been denied. On top of any minimal power she might have, I was dealing with a classic inferiority complex with a little psychopathic narcissism thrown in.
“I want answers. And after I get Dutch for you, you leave… immediately,” I reiterated.
Paige considered how she could manipulate me, her plan running around in her head like race cars. Her irises were large gray orbs with some of that meteor-shower thing going on in them. Did she have more power than before, and did she have a menori inside like Tempe?
I heaped coals on the fire. “Come to think of it, I may not need to deal with you. I heard you were a miniscule tempest faerie, that you have no real power.” My ploy worked.
Paige’s temper flared, and I saw it coming a split second before a jolt of white heat struck my thigh, sending sparks from my phone and pain radiating through my nerve endings. I let the phone fall onto the table and leaned on it, gasping, not entirely for effect. It hurt like hell. I didn’t try to hide it, instead making it seem worse than it was. I’d been tas
ered a couple of times in the military and once in Memphis; those times paled in comparison. No negligible faerie here.
“What did you do, get more power from River?” I said, panting hard.
She laughed but the smile was evil. “At your daughter’s game last week, River’s stupid Djinn protégé was dishing out free wishes to anyone within range. I had Will make a wish for me. But the damn squid blew it by simply wishing for a little more…” her voice trailed off when she realized she was about to admit to gaining only a limited amount of power. “I’ve felt…” she turned it on, her eyes brightening and her shoulders twitching “…different, stronger, since then. Much more powerful.”
And I’d wager much less sane.
“So what happened, Paige? What was the plan? How did it all go wrong?”
I leaned my hip against the oak table, rubbing my thigh. I hoped her zapper was out of juice. She’d reacted to her mad like Tempe had before she knew how to control her power, back when only emotion ruled its course and strength. Tempe told me when I’d first met her it took hours for her force to recharge. Hopefully, it was the same for Paige.
“Come on, Paige. Start anywhere. When did you decide to steal the amphora from Tempe’s?”
Paige’s disjointed answer was an indication of how fast she was slipping. “This whole fiasco is all the Nucklavee’s fault. If he hadn’t taken the bartender’s place that Saturday at the Turtle… He revealed his true self to me that night and asked if I wanted more power, to be more like Phoebe Pomeroy, even take her power…” Her hand came palm up, and she stared at it, “…have storms here at my command.”
Emotion stirred in her eyes again and I prayed she’d keep it together. I wasn’t looking forward to another jolt. “So that’s when you planned to take the amphora?”
Her hand tightened on the gun, “No!” Agitated again. We didn’t steal the damned bottle. The Nuk had a plan to capture Phoebe. He wanted to kidnap River and use him to lure Tempe and Phoebe in. He had me text River and tell him I had information about one of her protectors. But the real Ray found out and the other two left with Phoebe. The Nuk gave me a drug to put in River’s beer or whatever he ordered. I know how strong he is, so I doubled the dose.”
Obviously, that hadn’t been a good decision. She kicked at something on the floor and glared into the ether. Maybe she’d get into her tale and forget where she was, give me an opening.
“The Nucklavee was furious. River was going under too fast. Will and I told him we’d make it look like he couldn’t wait to go somewhere private to ‘get it on’. He was just conscious enough that he could walk with me supporting him and it didn’t take much to make it look like he was all over me.” She looked up, her eyes clouded over, “Like he used to be.”
Everything I’d learned about River pointed to that being an obvious lie. “Will described a brunette and at least one person backed that up.”
“Easy. A costume wig from Halloween City. That’s all.” She waved the gun.
“Not hardly. If you didn’t take River’s amphora, who did?”
For a minute I thought she wouldn’t answer but I realized she needed to tell it all. She just wanted me to beg. “Come on, Paige.”
“After Will and I brought River to the cabin and Ray—the Nuk—couldn’t find him, he decided to steal the amphora. Without the amphora,” she hesitated wondering what I knew—
“—You couldn’t contain River’s force.”
“Yes, and without River, the Nuk couldn’t make his boss’ plan work. Nuks aren’t smart enough to do anything on their own, you know.”
I nodded, even though this was all breaking news to me.
“Who was his boss?”
“Someone… very powerful.” Her smile died, fear reflected plainly on her features. “You interrupted me.” Again she rubbed her forehead with the gun. “Where was I? Oh, right. By then we’d heard Dutch was back in circulation, and he is the big prize. The Nuk didn’t care about Phoebe anymore, and Tempe’s a nothing,” she said with a wealth of distain. “No power except those ridiculous little mini-storms.” She waved dismissively.
She obviously hadn’t heard about Tempe’s newfound cyclone-ness. And if she disdained Tempe’s ‘mini’ storms what did that mean about her new level of power? “So Ray, the Nucklavee, stole the amphora from Harmony and took it to the clubhouse where he took the real Ray’s place. Why?” I scratched my head and tried to look confused, because things were falling into place.
“The Nucklavee took Ray’s place after Ray didn’t lead him to Phoebe. He shifted into his likeness and used Ray’s keys to get into the clubhouse where he put River’s bottle into one of the lockers. Will followed him, and as soon as he returned to the front room, Will surprised him, attacking him with a club he found in Ray’s cleaning closet and searched him. He didn’t find the amphora, but he found a small vial of that poison in the Nuk’s pocket. He knew the cops would be coming because of the alarm but he didn’t expect Tempest Pomeroy. She came blundering in there calling for the manager and Will panicked. At least he thought to grab the club and the vial since they had his fingerprints on them.” She clucked, “Still, he’s an idiot.”
“Where is Will?”
Paige pointed to the floor on the other side of the table with the gun.
I leaned to the left to see Will lying in a pool of his own blood. “Is he dead?”
Before I could react, she pointed the gun down at Will’s body, and pulled the trigger. I tensed, preparing myself for the inevitable.
She moved the gun back in my direction and the deranged look returned. Her stare was cold, deadly. “He is now.”
Point the gun at my heart, she said, “Quit stalling. I’ve answered your questions and unless you fulfill your part of the bargain Now!—” her voice dropped menacingly “—you’ll end up like Will.”
Paige was like one of those biorhythm charts, only the highs and lows were off the edge of the chart. The new increase in her power had obviously unhinged her.
Muttering, she said, “All of this talk has been rather unburdening—” She circled the hand with the gun mimicking a rising euphoric cloud, but stopped short, looking me over. Apparently realizing I didn’t have the bottle to make this deal happen, she said, “If you don’t have the amphora, hidden in your back pocket, you’re dead anyway.”
Think fast, Jack—
But before I could respond, the roaring began.
Chapter 18
Jack
Friday, 6:40pm Thunder rolls…
* * *
A crackling noise like fire sputtering in the hearth when new tinder is applied preceded the entry of a foggy image, which took form in front of us. “Did I hear my name?” came the words from a colossal gray miasma of gases.
Paige shivered involuntarily, her fist tightening on the tether and pulling it taut. “Don’t try anything. I’m all that’s keeping him alive.” She pointed the gun at River and Dutch’s thickening image surged forward.
I yelled, “No, Dutch. She means it.” I pointed at Crain’s body on the floor. The undulating, roiling mass paused, like a time-lapsed cloud video set on repeat, but he remained stationary as he considered his options. For a father who wanted to preserve his son’s life, there weren’t many, even if he was the most “powerful Djinn” known. His hands were tied, as well as his wishes.
Dutch’s eyes were molten fire blazing at Paige’s words, his voice echoing off the walls like the bass register of an organ in a celestial cathedral. I wasn’t sure the flimsy walls could withstand much at that level. “Harming him wouldn’t be very smart at this point, Aretuu.”
I knew that word. Enemy. Did it apply to Paige?
“I w-was just s-saying…” With wide eyes she stepped even closer to River, her finger winding another loop around the hair leash, tethering his force to her weak one.
She cowered under Dutch’s hulking presence. He leaned closer and though her eyes widened, she had the presence of mind, or self-preservation, to st
ick the gun in River’s side, making her point.
He made a growl that felt like thunder and I stepped in before one of them blew a gasket. “Here’s what I propose, Paige.” I pulled River’s old amphora from my waistband under my jacket. There was an immediate flare of interest on her face. “I have River’s amphora and the other lid, which we found at Will’s this morning. Dutch, if Paige promises to let me take River out of here, are you willing to get in this amphora and become the subject of the new possessor?”
Irritated beyond measure, Dutch glared at Paige, his eyes blazing, skin glowing like embers on a log. She cowered next to River waiting for his answer. The massive being turned and his burning eyes narrowed on me. Even though we’d worked some of this out ahead of time, I had to wonder, seeing his wrath up close and personal, and feeling only a fraction of the Djinn’s thrumming power, if he would be able to follow through with the plan. How much intelligence remained when he was in this state?
A mere nod, almost undetectable, bound the Djinn to the oath as surely as the chains of Zeus. I let out a quick breath of relief and picked up the green amphora, holding it out so Paige could see that one opening was plugged. I held up the other hat-shaped lid.
Like an industrial vacuum cleaner sucking smoke out of a room, Dutch’s dark foggy visage disappeared into the amphora, the rest evaporating like the vapor trail from my F-18 engines. Carefully, I placed it into the remaining spout, and sealed the Djinni inside.
Paige’s excitement was palpable as she rocked from foot to foot. “Give me that amphora. Now!”
“No. I have to take River out of here. That was the deal. Let River go.” Tempe had better make her move or I would have to wing it.
Her hand tightened around the tether. “Hand me the bottle…”
Wind blew leaves against the panes of glass, and limbs struck the roof of the house sending acorns and other trash skittering across the tin and down into the cabin. Paige paid little attention, her greedy eyes latched onto the amphora in my hand. A deep rolling rumble shook the house as lightning cracked and reflected off the walls like blue spears.
