Shadow Dancer (Kitsune series)

by Morgan Blayde

  “We’ll take it from here.” Jill took my arm, shooing Fenn away. “I’ll put her in the shower,” Jill told Drew. “You get her a change of clothes, something she can sleep in.”

  Fenn lingered in the doorway, eyes smoldering. “I won’t be far if you need me, Grace. I promise.” He wheeled about and strode through the next door, swarmed at once by security out in the hall. The door to Drew’s room and the hall door were both closed, but raised voices still reached us. Things weren’t going to settle anytime soon.

  NINE

  Step by slow step, Jill helped me through the lavatory area, to the bathroom. The pain in my right wrist had settled to a dull ache. Even breathing took effort. I’d never appreciated how closely connected my health and aura were. Jill closed the door and started the shower. Thankfully, she held off interrogating me, concentrating on stripping off the fouled clothing I wore. I saw her lift an eyebrow at yellow-green smears. “Smells like baby poop. This stuff might never come out.”

  “Damn. I liked that outfit.”

  “I’m not really sure I want to know what you’ve been doing,” she said.

  We deposited everything in the trash except shoes and coat. I’d try to save them somehow. Maybe Ms. Griffin knew of a good dry cleaner. I removed my gold locket and handed it to Jill. “Hold onto that for me, will you?”

  “Sure.” She slid it in a pocket, supported me into the shower, and closed the plastic curtain.

  Leaning against a wall, I shampooed my hair several times, and scoured myself with a soapy washcloth, taking off several layers of skin before I felt clean. The door opened and I heard Drew’s voice before it closed again. I stepped out and Jill wrapped me with a towel. Clothing was stacked on the commode lid. With Jill’s help, I was soon dressed in pink sweat pants and a lighter pink tee.

  When I returned to Drew’s room, I found Hammer waiting. “Where’s Ryan?” he demanded.

  “Didn’t Fenn tell you?” I asked.

  “Our half-splattered bug-boy is supposed to be him? You think I’m going to buy that?”

  “Bug boy?” Drew asked.

  Jill lifted an eyebrow in inquiry. “Half-splattered?”

  I held Hammer’s steely gaze. “Why not? It’s the truth.”

  Jill helped me to Drew’s bed where I sat down. Drew sat at her desk, backwards in her chair so she could watch the whole room. Hammer stood still, calm, his face carved from stone. His total lack of emotion made him scarier than normal.

  “Bug-man could just be something Elita summoned to protect herself from you,” Hammer said. “Our cameras show you leaving her room just after she was assaulted. How do I know you and Fenn didn’t kill Ryan and dispose of the body, using this bug story for cover?”

  “I didn’t hurt her.” Chastising the wicked is good for them, right? Builds character.

  Hammer’s fists went to his hips. “You didn’t run out, screaming about an attack. You reported nothing to security. Elita swears you were trying to kill her. She says you were like some insane, savage beast, and that it was all she could do to fend you off with her martial art training.”

  Anger filled me like a rushing flame, bringing back more of my strength. “That lying bitch!” I looked at my friends for moral support.

  Jill and Drew eyed me speculatively.

  I scowled at them. “I saved her. I swear it.”

  Tension bled from Jill’s shoulders. She turned her face toward Hammer. “She’s telling the truth.”

  “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it,” Hammer said. “For all I know, Grace is using some kind of Jedi mind control on you. She walked into Elita’s room without the cameras picking her up. We don’t know her secrets. Her blood type isn’t anything our doctors have ever seen before.” He glowered at me. “Want to tell me just what you are?”

  The planet spun out from under me, leaving me adrift, stricken mute.

  Security guys crowded in behind Hammer, more of them clogging the door.

  Drew marched over, becoming a human shield, arms outstretched as if nailed to an invisible cross. “Grace is innocent. I won’t let anyone hurt her.”

  I felt a flush of warmth at her loyalty, and amazement that she would risk herself for me after such a short acquaintance. I didn’t deserve such a good friend.

  Hammer glared, as if the force of his stare could fling Drew to the sidelines.

  Time to defuse this situation. I stepped around Drew, and lifted my hands in front of me, wrists close together. “You can take me away if you want to. I won’t give you any trouble. I know you’re just doing your job.” I was too weak to fight. I couldn’t cross over any time soon with my aura so drained. Might as well live up to my name and be gracious about things.

  The security guys were now in a semicircle, fanning left and right of Hammer. One of them slid in front of Jill, offering her protection as if I might spontaneously explode or something. A lot more guns were lined up on my forehead.

  “Where’s Ms. Griffin?” Surely, she’d be on my side.

  “On her way,” Hammer said. “But we’re going to end this before she gets here.” He stepped forward, producing cuffs. “You might very well be innocent. If so, I’m sorry, but we mere humans can’t take chances.” His voice hardened, “Turn around, Grace. Put your hands behind your back. Do it now!”

  I did. “Please be careful with my right wrist. I think it’s sprained.”

  Hammer cuffed me, unexpectedly gentle with my injury. I hadn’t known he harbored much compassion. The cuffs made my bad wrist burn, and I gritted my teeth, knowing the pain would get worse with time. Weak and wobbly, I would have fallen if not for Hammer’s grip on my arm.

  Furious, Jill launched herself at him. “You’ve got no right to be so rough.”

  “It’s all right.” I straightened. “Let’s all of us calm down a little.”

  “Excellent advice.” A blue-eyed blonde entered the room, loosening a white-gold, foil scarf. Her silver tipped cowgirl boots were quiet as she shouldered through the men, unbuttoning a long crimson duster. Inside her coat, I spied a fancy shoulder holster with a black grip poking out.

  “Taliesina!” the word was a wounded cry, as she got a better look at me.

  I stared back. “Huh?”

  She shook off the mood that gripped her, shutting away raw emotions that flickered too fast to identify. “Sorry, I thought you were … never mind. You got a name?”

  “Grace,” I said. “Grace Kenyon.”

  Hammer passed me to two of his men, and went to loom over the woman. “Never mind introductions. Cassie, what are you doing here?”

  “What do you mean? You requested a Preternatural Response Team didn’t you?”

  “And you’re all we get? Where’s everyone else?”

  “Close by,” she said, “on another case, but don’t worry—there’s not much I can’t handle.” Her gaze went to my and Jill’s bags. “Is one of those Grace’s?”

  Jill pointed it out.

  “Give it to me,” Cassie said. “I’m taking the girl into federal custody.”

  There it was again; the girl, like I was the only one left in the world, some strange and rare creature to be wary of.

  There was a jostling in the door way. I heard Ms. Griffin’s voice just before she pushed into the cramped space. “Not so fast.”

  Cassie paused on the way to collect me.

  Ms. Griffin said, “Grace is a minor and in our legal custody. If you want to talk to her—you’ll do it here.”

  “It won’t take me long to get a warrant signed by a federal judge,” Cassie said.

  Ms. Griffin marched forward, seized my arm, and shook me free of my guards. They put up little resistance. She guided me past Cassie, saying, “Let me know when you get that warrant. Meanwhile, we have an injured mothman and an evil medicine bag you might want to look at.”

  I dug my heels in, stopping Ms. Griffin’s exit strategy in the hallway door. “How about getting the key before we leave so you can take
these bracelets off?” I suggested.

  “Trust me.” She pushed me into the hall with one hand, the other holding a bottle of water. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “So where are we going?” Moving toward the elevator, my hands behind my back, felt odd, unbalanced. Thinking about being seen in cuffs by the guys in the lounge caused my face to warm with embarrassment. Nearly at the end of the hall, Ms. Griffin stopped me. She wiggled out of a down-filled parka and draped it over my shoulders to give me a little dignity. From that moment on, I knew I’d take a bullet for her.

  Side by side, we went on to the lounge, finding it empty except for a couple lingering by the soda machine. In their private little world, they completely ignored us. We stopped by the elevator. She pressed the button, looking back at the lovers with a smile. “We often think of first love as innocent.” Her eyes came back to me. Her face turned sad. “But it can go bad, quickly becoming obsession, or a game of control. Entrusting yourself to another heart can be dangerous, Grace. Other people’s hearts can hold dark secrets.”

  The elevator arrived. We got on, and surprisingly, headed up. I’d thought we were going down to her office, or maybe some secret dungeon below the parking garage.

  She continued, “Be careful, of such vulnerability.”

  Hmmm, was she warning me about Fenn? She might know things about him which professional ethics kept her from disclosing. Of course, I already knew he could be dangerous. I liked that part of him … the way he kissed … and the way his eyes made me feel I occupied the center of the universe. I wondered if the warning had come too late.

  It felt odd, getting out on the top floor, retracing my steps to the roof with Ms. Griffin instead of Fenn. Why did she want to do this? What did she expect to see? It completely escaped me. I had trouble on the last flight of stairs. She braced me as I slowly climbed. She pushed open the heavy steel door to the roof.

  I went out a few steps and turned around. “How about now? Can we get these cuffs off?”

  Mrs. Griffin stood by the closed door. Her left hand still held the bottled water. Her right hovered a few inches from the handle, fingers splayed. Softly, she sang words I didn’t understand, sending a shiver up my spine. The air itself took on a charge. I wondered what I’d see if I had the strength to cross over. Aura was definitely being manipulated here.

  “What are you doing?” I raised an eyebrow to reinforce my inquiry.

  “Don’t ask me to spoil the surprise.” She turned, faced me, checked a rather expensive diamond watch, and looked up. “What do you know about pheromones?”

  “They’re chemicals that trigger a response in other organisms, affecting behavior and physiology.”

  She blinked silently, derailed, obviously not expecting me to know.

  I grinned. As a writer-in-training, my brain was stuffed with interesting but generally useless information. Besides, I liked the Nature Channel and even had a few of their cool tee shirts.

  She matched my smile, closing the distance between us. “Most pheromones consist of blends of two or more chemicals biogenetically derived from fatty acids. They need to be emitted in exactly the right proportions to be effective.”

  She reached behind me and did something I couldn’t see. The cuffs opened and I removed them, letting them fall as the lecture continued.

  “For short periods in the early evening, the codling moth—Cydia pomonella—raises her abdomen and protrudes her sex gland. Codling moth males casting through the apple orchards catch the plume and get aroused. They steer upwind until they find and mate with her.”

  “More information than I really need, but,” I rubbed my wrists, “thanks.”

  She guided me over to the big H on the roof. “Pheromones are all about getting needs met. You do know that humans produce pheromones too, right?”

  I hadn’t, but I nodded.

  Delicately, she licked a finger and stuck it up to test the chill wind.

  I was glad of the jacket she’d loaned me, slipping my arms into the sleeves.

  Ms. Griffin said, “I misled the Special Agent, implying we still had the mothman in custody. It healed up enough to escape by the time I got here.”

  “What! But I need that thing to prove I didn’t off Ryan, that I’m not some evil, psychotic master mind.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s why we’re up here. As a mothman—with heightened senses— Ryan should react to you even stronger than in human form. Besides, Elita has disavowed him. He’s psychologically driven to find an alpha female to dominate him. That’s where you come in.”

  Adrenaline hit my system. I tasted copper on my tongue; the flavor of fear and excitement. My fatigue diminished and I rocked back on my heels. “I’m … bait?”

  “Surprise!”

  TEN

  Ms. Griffin’s hand slid to the back of her waistband, and emerged with a red pistol. The thing had a compressed gas cylinder feeding the handgrip.

  “You’re going to stop Ryan with a paintball gun?” If she’d whipped out an Uzi, I’d have felt safe, as it was, I edged for the door.

  “You shouldn’t judge by appearances, Grace.” She set the bottled water down by her feet. “Paintballs can hold more than paint.”

  “Mothballs?”

  The whirring of moth wings filled the air. I froze in place, reached for the ghost realm’s protection. A mild tingle came and went, but nothing else happened. I’d have to run the good old fashioned way.

  Behind Ms. Griffin, Ryan dropped out of the night, crashing heavily to the roof. His coat was sticky with dried ichor. His crimson eyes beamed. He laboriously climbed to his feet, weaving as he took a few steps, one arm dangling useless beside him. Hurt or not, he was dangerous. I ran for the roof door.

  I heard the resurgence of wings and knew Ryan followed.

  I reached the door and grabbed the handle. It wouldn’t budge. Damn.

  Voice serene, Ms. Griffin called out, “I sealed that, remember? Oh, and watch out for his tongue.”

  I spun to the side.

  Mothman’s tongue went splat against the door, withdrawing as he landed running. His face tracked my movement, antennae trembling with excitement.

  Over his hunched shoulder, I saw Ms. Griffin raise her weapon in a two-handed grip.

  Phu—punt.

  Ryan fell on me like a ton of bricks, slamming me down, hard. My breath squished out. I gasped, and struggled to roll him off me. He lay on his back, head lolling, mouth open, about two feet of tongue hanging out. His eyes were closed. My borrowed coat was stained with ichor and dust.

  I sat up and glared at Ms. Griffin. “Next time you need bait, at least ask.”

  “This is the fastest way to clear your name, Grace. Or would you rather put the cuffs back on?”

  “My name only gets cleared if we prove fuzz-face here is Ryan, not some random creepy-crawly.”

  She walked over to me. “That’s where you come in. He won’t be out long, too fast a metabolism. Before he completely regains his senses, you need to get control of him—become his dominant. He’ll change back if you order him to.”

  “Really?” The plan sounded a little sketchy to me, but maybe... “So, uh, what do I do? I don’t need a black leather bustier and riding crop, do I?”

  Ms. Griffin smiled. “In this instance, no. I’d say straddle him, grab that small patch of chest hair, and when you see signs he’s coming around, smack him in the face a few times. I’d suggest a cold, hard tone of voice; condescension mixed with command and maybe a hint of animal passion.”

  I stared at her. “Is that all?”

  “You can do it. Imagine he’s Fenn—if it helps.”

  “Not even my imagination is that good.”

  Someone pounded on the roof door, trying to get to us. The cameras—they would have shown security where bug-boy had gotten off to. The Cavalry was here to save the boss lady. Hammer probably thought I was expendable, and the sooner the better.

  Crack. Crack.

  Gunfire. Cassie to
o?

  “I’d hurry if I were you,” Ms. Griffin said.

  “Fine.” With a sigh, I jumped on Ryan. His tongue slithered back inside his mouth. Really, not much different that sitting on a big stuffed toy. I tried to believe that. It became harder as he moaned and blinked, his head turning toward me.

  The door shuddered, kicked.

  Mothman reached for me with his good arm.

  I threw it to the side. “Hunh-uh. You haven’t earned the right to touch.”

  The hand came back, attempting a grope-fest.

  I jumped up a little and crashed down knees first on his chest. Leaning forward, I punched his nose. “If you expect me to keep you around,” I said, “You are going to have take orders a lot better than this.” No response, other than lying there.

  Had I knocked him out? “Blink if you’re still conscious.”

  He blinked.

  The door shuddered under multiple kicks, but remained sealed. Ms. Griffin knew her stuff.

  I put a hard edge to my voice, “Listen up! As proof of your undying devotion and loyalty, I command you to transform back into you … Ryan.”

  Nothing.

  He began shedding into the wind. His eyes closed, the great orbs shrinking in size under his eyelids. The frayed wings he lay on dried up and shattered, becoming potpourri. He stayed starved looking, like he could use a dozen meals or so. The delicate, feathery antennae wilted, melting away.

  I slid my knees off him, straddling the stomach of a very naked teenage boy.

  I hopped off as if burned, backing away.

  Ms. Griffin moved in with her water. She twisted off the top and offered the bottle to Ryan. “Here, drink this. It’s sugar water, a quick source of calories.”

  I heard a bam from the door. It swung open, a hole where the latch used to be. Security must have used a small explosive charge. They flooded the roof, weapons very much in evidence. I stood very still. Ryan guzzled the water. Ms. Griffin frowned at the intrusion. “You should just have waited. We were almost done.”

  Hammer pushed through with Cassie at his side.