Tukka stay, like place with view. He dropped his head to the deck as his eyes went half-lidded. His breathing remained labored.
I ran to the stairs and hitched up my skirt to take the steps three at a time. I hit the floor and made a beeline for the work station. Tearing open the desk drawers, I ransacked them and came up empty. Not even a letter opener. Not even a … ah, hah! The bottom drawer contributed a taser built to look like a gun. I looked down the muzzle. There were twin projectiles there. This wasn’t a get-in-close, hand-held zapper, but the kind of taser that shot wired darts across a distance to electrocute people.
Bad people and their toys… I need more. I need … the crowbar.
I snatched it off the printer where it had been abandoned, and sprinted across the lowered basement floor to the second flight of stairs. They took me up to the elevator. I passed it, hugging the wall, moving along the ledge to the next piece of old floor still remaining. It held the emergency generator, and nearby, a five-gallon can of gas. The can turned out to be half full. Hopefully that would be enough. I carried it past the elevator down to the lower level, getting everything over to the isolation tank—just in time. A low hum warned me the elevator was coming.
I transferred almost everything up to Tukka, saving the gas for last. I removed the spout and dragged the can up the steps, sloshing gas as I went. By the time I reached the top of the stairs again the elevator dinged open. I couldn’t resist looking to see the passenger. In a white dress with frilly lace and matching gloves, Elita was dressed for a funeral—mine. Her skin was waxy, pale, her hair elegantly piled. The tips of her gloves shredded as her nails grew unnaturally long, poking into view. There was anticipation in her expression, a rigid joy that stretched the flesh tightly. And there was murder in her eyes, a radiant darkness that swallowed light.
She started my way, slowly, deliberately, using the stairs from the elevator to the new sub-basement floor.
I ripped my gaze away.
Tukka shrugged out from under my cloak and managed to stand, wavering unsteadily on all four feet. I pointed to the hatch. “Get in!”
He looked at me. Tukka die dry—not wet.
“I have a plan. Trust me, and hold this.” I stuck the short crowbar in his mouth. “Try not to swallow it.”
He made a gurgled reply I didn’t understand and fell in with a big splash. I poured out the rest of the gas. The cloak got soaked. The fuel pooled, rippling outward. A raised lip at the edge of the deck kept the gas from overflowing to the floor. The liquid drained the only way it could, down the stairs.
“Playing with fire, Grace?” Elita’s voice had collapsed, its timber deepening, growing thick as gritty sludge, “You think this will scare me off? Don’t you know? Demons like fire.” She laughed, clomping up the stairs to the tank, making sure I knew she was coming. Anticipation really is the greatest torture.
She wanted me to be the one afraid, and I was, but that didn’t mean I was giving up. I dropped the empty can and went under the hatch, pulling it nearly closed. I waited until I saw her head and shoulders, and shot the taser. The darts hit the metal deck, igniting the gas fumes. Flames whooshed up as I slammed the hatch, cutting through the taser’s wires. I dropped the gun. It splashed and sank, as I spun the wheel mechanism inside the hatch, dogging it shut.
Tukka floated under me without needing to tread water. He craned his head as high as possible. I snagged the butt of the crowbar, poking out of his mouth like a little forked tongue. Still clinging to the ladder, I used the bar to jam the hatch shut.
Tukka grunted. This your plan? Burn building down, and hope devil-girl don’t break in before help comes, or air goes bad.
“Uh, yeah. Me killing us has to be better than the demons in Elita doing it.”
Always a silver lining.
My fancy dress skirts grew heavy enough to drag me under if I let them, despite the salt in the water adding buoyancy. I let go of the ladder and latched onto Tukka. He made no complaint as I awkwardly climbed him and clung to his back. The only light came from below the surface, the big aquarium window in the side of the tank. The diffused glow dimmed. I leaned out and peered past Tukka. Through the distortion of the water I saw thick black smoke billowing outside.
I thought of Eita, sheeted in fire, breathing toxic fumes … Take that Devil-Girl.
As if summoned by my thoughts, the hatch jiggled. I watched the mechanism in the dimming light, praying the bar would stay in place. Elita gave up. I wondered what else she’d try. I also wondered why she wasn’t burnt to a crispy critter. I chalked it up to her witchy powers.
I heard the water gently lapping against the inside of the tank. I heard Tukka’s breathing, and my own desperately pounding heart. Time seemed to dog-paddle at an achingly slow pace. Nothing was happening. Could Elita have succumbed to the smoke? Maybe she was lying out there on the steps, her clothes, flesh and hair burnt away—new Apocalypse Barbie, be the first on your block to own one!
Thoom thoom! The sounds were muted by the water and weirdly distorted as well.
I leaned out again and stared down at the window. A dark shape was there, outside in the smoke, face pressed to the glass. I knew who that had to be.
Tukka said, Fire not hurt her, it devils’ only friend.
“Great. Couldn’t someone have told me that earlier?”
Jamming door good trick, Tukka said. She can’t get in.
Thoom!
“I hope not.” I pulled myself back in and lay down to hug Tukka with my whole body, like he was one of the over-sized stuffed animals in my room back home. Silence returned to soothe us, but fear still hung around. It seemed like I was forgetting something important. I played my memory back, reviewing everything that had happened to me since the White Room. Reliving the day-spa experience calmed me, and made thinking easier, but a distraction as well.
I wished I’d been able to call Mom and Dad on their cruise and tell them one last time I loved them. I also wanted to call my sister and tell her the same thing, and that I was sorry she never thought of me as her real sister. She was mine.
My memory skipped and hopped through events, pausing where Van Helsing was sprinkling holy water on the taped-up crosses, saying his Latin prayer. I wondered where the old man got his holy water. How it was made. “If Fenn’s dad were here, priest’s collar and all, do you think his blessing could turn this stuff in here into holy water?”
Him not real priest. Not good person either. Maybe turn water to wine, if that help.
“Hmmmm.”
You should try—fast!
“Turning water to wine?”
Make holy water.
“Why?”
Elita back at window … with jackhammer.
“Crap on a flaming shingle!”
She worse than Eveready bunny, and not as tasty.
I thought of a missing stuffed rabbit I’d owned years ago. I’d cried over its disappearance, blaming my sister despite her protests of innocence. I glared at the back of Tukka’s shaggy head. “That was you?”
Tukka want to tell you before he die.
The jackhammer was on. I could hear its metallic chatter through the glass and water.
Tukka lowered his face into the water for a better look, then lifted it. Glass cracking. Not long now. The jackhammer went ominously still.
Damn, I need a prayer. Wait, if only this works... I sure hope God’s in a good mood. “Spiritus Dei causam consecrare gloria.” I reached down from Tukka’s back and plunged my hand into the water. “Please God, I’ll give you a chocolate bar!”
Hey! Can we talk about this? Tukka’s protest died, as a final thoom reached us. We lurched into a spin. The water dropped fast. I kept my hand submerged, screaming, “Spiritus Dei causam consecrare freakin’ gloria!”
We rolled several times as we reached the shattered window. I went through, past some nasty shards still in place, and tumbled down my own little waterfall to the concrete floor, slamming my breath out, laying there stunned
, gagging on a haze of smoke, most of it hugging the high ceiling. After a coughing jag, I rallied and ripped off a wet sleeve to cover my mouth, breathing through the cloth. It was then I noticed a film of blood on my arms from numerous cuts.
A last few shards fell with a brital clatter, as the water stream died and Tukka floundered out. He crashed to the concrete at my feet. He lay still, gasping like a beached baby whale.
Soggy feet squished, stalling out near my head. I closed my eyes, expecting a jackhammer to cave in my skull any second. Only Elita did nothing but stand there. I opened my eyes, and spied the jackhammer five feet away where it had been abandoned. I was working up the nerve to raise my head and peer into Elita’s hell-filled eyes when her head fell off her shoulders and bounced past me on the floor.
Her hair was wet but steaming, and in need of a good conditioner. The exposed face—what was left of it—looked like some powerful acid was at work. The eyes were sunken and white with blindness. The skin foamed and sloughed off, adding to the mess on the floor. The standing body fell beside me. Like a waterballoon, it burst. One arm separated in several places, leaking embalming fluid, a burning odor like rubbing alchhol mixed with gasoline. A leg came off and continued to deform, becoming putrid, soupy mush. They’d need a closed casket service after this, and some shovels to scoop her up.
Fear had coalesced into a mixture of relief and revulsion. I closed my eyes and swallowed, trying not to be sick as I dragged myself over to Tukka. The demons weren’t gone. I could still feel their icy rage from the ghost realm which had them back again. I hugged Tukka’s big head.
Pressing the wet sleeve to my mouth so I could breathe, I laughed into my hand and couldn’t stop for the longest time, crying as the fumes stung my eyes.
Grace! Grace, all right?
Nodding, I pulled away from Tukka, staring into his soft lavender eyes, touched by the concern there. I sent him a thought: Apparently, God was in a very good mood.
Taliesina’s golden eyes opened in the back shadows of my mind. Forgetting something?
Oh, my Gawd, the eclipse! The fate of the world on the line and I’d spaced it entirely.
Eclipse? Tukka asked.
We’ve got to get to the gym right away. I coughed into the cloth I was breathing through, the fumes stinging my eyes.
You go. Tukka be along; friends coming, help me out.
Friends? I had a mental vision of dogs, one of them a fu dog, playing poker in the back room of a bar, wearing people cloths.
Tukka rolled his eyes. Go already.
FORTY-ONE
I ran, lifting the edge of my gown, slogging across the smoky room, running up the other stairs to the elevator. I punched the button and the door opened at once. I went in, bringing some of the smoke along, and endured it, riding up to the lobby. I bolted out, going the way I’d come, thankful for the fresh air. I made a turn in the hall and headed for the side door. I felt tired, slow. Reaching the door seemed to take forever.
And then I was through, out under the night sky, staring at a massive retreat by the good guys. The wet cloth slipped from my fingers as Isaw the roof of the gym on fire, the part that hadn’t already caved in. In the distance, sirens wailed. Help was coming—too little, too late. Government forces and slayers were backing across the frost-killed lawn, firing behind them as they went. The few surviving witches in their bright gowns stared back in terror, escorted away by the Feds.
Shaun had Cassie in his arms. Her hair was disheveled, a cut bled above one eye, and her clothes looked destined for the rag pile. She held one arm as if it wasn’t working anymore. Virgil and Fenn showed damage as well. Shaun was covered in blood but I didn’t think any of it was his. He moved easily without sign of pain. Only Van Helsing looked wrinkle-free and wholely undaunted, guiding Madison and Fran into the clear—their white masks gone. However he’d done it, I was grateful.
I wondered if I had Ms. Griffin to thank for that.
My gaze slid past them to the side door of the gym. What was inside had red eyes. A little too big to get out the door, it used massive forearms to batter the frame, trying to make it bigger. The frame buckled on one side, then the other. Then the black-furred shape squeezed out. It stood upright—a good ten feet—but its hind legs had an extra joint, and it had a scaly tail to wag, only it wasn’t wagging. Am-Heh lifted his snout to howl. He made fists, letting his arms and pects bunch impressively, showing off killer abs. He wore liquid fire for pants and, yes, had a face only a mother jackal could love.
Blaire followed him out, boldly stepping to his side. Her imperious finger swept across her enemies, coming around to linger on me. “Kill them all,” she screamed. “Kill them all!”
I smiled. That “all” included her.
Am-Heh looked at her, a wicked smile destorting his face. He picked her up and bit her head off, spitting it away. He broke the rest of her in half, and gnawed the remains. There were britle cracks as he chomped through bone, then slurping as he sucked out marrow.
Feeling queezy, I swung my gaze away.
Tukka appeared beside me, looking much better. Hi Grace, got chocolate? He wasn’t alone. A dozen fu dogs were packed around him, anxious, ready for any request he might make. It occurred to me that Tukka was highly important. That made the time he made for me more valuable than I’d known.
Jill and Drew grabbed and hugged me from behind. They were sobbing with fear or maybe relief, I wasn’t sure which. They babbled as well. “Sssshhhhh.” I patted arms. “Grace is here. It will be all right now.”
Yes, Tukka said. We’ll take from here.
I remembered the fu dogs from my prom dream in the tank. “A dozen against that thing?” I loosened the arms holding me, turning to see Am-Heh. He wasn’t roaring, flexing, or eating now. He’d dropped what was left of Blaire, ready for the main entrée.
I didn’t know how far the fu dogs travelled—from what far-off lands, dreams, or alternate dimensions of time and space—but hundreds pounded onto the property, carefully trotting past the shell-shocked humans stunned into immobility. The creatures enclosed the buildings, with stragglers steadily popping in from the ghost world—more fu dogs than I’d ever conceived of.
I closed my eyes and covered my ears. Some things should never be remembered in full, vivid, blood-drenched detail. This was one of those things. Unfortunately, Drew jerked my hands down and the most god-awful snarling made me open my eyes. A big, quivering, bloody chunk of ripped out liver plopped down at my feet. I tried not to be sick.
Jill bent over the organ, nudging it with her toe. “Think I can get anything on eBay for that?”
I felt a resurgence of nausea. Not so much from seeing a softball sized chunk of liver—I’d dissected a frog in biology class, I was tough—but because waves of hunger washed through me, and a compulsion to snatch up the tender morsel and try it raw. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong until golden eyes glimmered opened in the back shadows of my mind and Taliesina joined me. The hunger was hers. Her will drove my hand out. I fought her control, snatching my hand back from the steamy, blood-slick organ.
Jill stared. “Grace, are you all right?”
“Give me a minute. I seem to be having an inner conflict here.” I muttered beneath my breath, “I’m not eating that!”
You must, Taliesina insisted. Death gods don’t go down easy, especially under a black moon. He’s regenerating, fast, but if you eat the flesh of a god, you partake of his power. We need the boost for when Am-Heh gets serious.
I thought of Cassie bending time and space. Maybe she can send him back. Blaire had wanted me to do that when needed, but I don’t know how.
“At least cook it first,” Drew offered.
“As if!” I snarled.
A commotion drew my gaze to Am-Heh. He’d emerged from a dog pile, growing twice his previous size. The wounds in his body—made by fu dog teeth and claws—were visibly closing and ghosting away. The underworld creature snatched up fu dogs left and right and flung them acro
ss the lawn and into the buildings. He bowled over clusters of fu dogs otherwise out of range. Tukka went forward, lumbering slowly toward Am-Heh.
I called after him, “Tukka, no! You’re not in any shape to take him on.”
And suddenly Am-Heh was looking straight at me. Oh, crap!
Fenn blurred past me, scooping the organ off the ground. He stuffed the alien flesh into his mouth and chewed.
Ewwwwwww. “How can you do that?” I asked.
“I’ve had worse,” he said between bites.
“How’s it taste?” Jill asked.
He grinned, a gobbet of meat hanging from a corner of his mouth. “Gamey, tough. Pretty awful, actually.”
In my thoughts, Taliesina growled at him for taking what she wanted.
“Knock it off,” I said. “We got a serious problem here.”
Am-Heh was moving our way.
“Well,” I asked Fenn, “did that stuff give you god-like powers?”
“Let’s find out.” He ran to where Tukka waited. They were determined to meet Am-Heh half way. I looked at Jill and Drew. “Both of you, get outta here.”
“Not likely,” Jill said.
“Not without you,”Drew added.
I needed to join Fenn and Tukka. I had no time to argue. I waved some of Tukka’s pals over. They came, which surprised me a little. Sure, I was officially in the pack, but I didn’t know if that gave me any actually authority. I caught their eyes and pointed at my friends. “Get them outta here, and don’t take no for an answer, or I’ll tell Tukka.
They dropped their gazes from mine. Wow! I had dominance and rank. One of their thoughts slipped into my head; As the shadow-walker commands.
“Hey!” Jill protested.
“Leggo,” Drew hollered.
The dogs had mouths full of gown and were all but dragging the girls away.
I turned in time to see Tukka suck in a huge breath. He wavered on his feet, opening his mouth to roar. The sound was more felt at first, an ache in the bones. The roar broke into audible levels, a blast of thunder that climbed, morphing into a thin knifing sound. I covered my ears, even as the sound vanished, going beyond my range of hearing. Fenn covered up as well, driven to his knees by his proximity to Tukka. This was like the time I spent in the white room, before Taliesina took over.
Shadow Dancer (Kitsune series) Page 29
