I tried to lift a hand to my torso, but pain flared from somewhere deep inside.
I cracked my eyes open to the dim impressions of the end of a bed and a room beyond. To my right, light outlined a door. Voices murmured beyond. Somewhere a door opened and closed. Then the door to my room opened. I squinted away as a silhouette bisected the light.
“Everson?” a woman asked in a whisper.
The door closed behind her, and the bed creaked as she sat on its edge.
“Vega?” I managed from a dry mouth.
Fingers brushed the damp hair from my brow. “Yeah, it’s me.”
I recognized the room now, the bed. I was in Ricki’s apartment.
“How’d I get here?”
“Pierce found you.”
“Pierce?”
I tried to sit up, but pain shot through my gut and stole my breath.
“Don’t move,” she said. “He cast a healing spell, but he said it needs time to work.”
Wincing, I settled back onto the mattress. I was underneath several layers of sheets, but my skin felt cool. After another moment, I picked up Pierce’s subtle magic. It moved over me as smooth as quicksilver, probing, purging, repairing. Restoring me to wholeness and health.
“He found me in the goblin tunnels?”
“Yeah. About to be torn apart.” She sighed. “What in the hell were you doing down there by yourself?”
She’d picked up a large plastic cup from the nightstand and now she held a straw to my lips. I lifted my head and took a sip. The water felt wonderful going down.
“It was a timing thing,” I said as I lay back. I told her what had happened after our fight at Becky’s apartment building, from Quinton turning up to me leaving Becky’s soul-torn body at my apartment and then disarming the two infernal bags she’d planted. “I’d just finished disarming the second bag when Gretchen told me she had healed Becky. Becky told me the location of the induction ceremony. I wanted to get there before the Ark was restored and Damien could regain his full strength. I tried to reach you, but you were with Pierce.” Even in my condition, a jealous burn accompanied the words. “Hoffman must’ve told you guys where I was, huh?”
“I tried to page you.”
“Yeah, I lost the pager somewhere.”
“Did you check your voice mail?” she asked.
“Not recently. Oh, you mean earlier.” I thought back. I’d only been home twice since Vega and I had parted ways, and both times I’d been in go-go-go mode. “I guess not,” I said.
“I left four messages.”
“Really?”
“Pierce’s work led him to the tunnels too.”
“A little late,” I muttered, unable to help myself.
“No, actually. He thought it’d be safer to wait until after the ceremony and then apprehend the Ark as they were coming out. The messages I left were to fill you in on what was happening and to warn you not to go into the tunnels. Pierce said they were too dangerous.”
I had it under control, I thought bitterly. Just a couple bad breaks.
“When I called for backup, I was surprised to find out there were already officers at the scene.” My eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough that I could see her right eyebrow arch up.
“I coordinated with Hoffman when I couldn’t get ahold of you,” I explained.
“Hoffman,” she muttered. “Son of a bitch knew how to reach me. But calling him probably saved your life. When he told me you’d gone underground, we knew what he meant. Pierce went down and found you under a pile of creatures. He destroyed them and pulled you out.”
“What about the Ark?”
“We detained them as they emerged, but Quinton got away.”
I remembered him shooting my mother’s emo ball and then grabbing the necklace from the casting circle.
“The goblin tunnels are extensive,” she said. “He probably found another way out. But Pierce was able to break Damien’s hold over the others and get the locations of their bags. Eight in all. I sent teams of officers to collect them. That was a couple hours ago. Pierce just stopped by to say he’d finished neutralizing them. He also wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Is he still here?” The English magic-user might have rubbed me in all the wrong ways, not least in just succeeding where I’d failed, but he’d saved my life. I at least owed him a thank you.
“Just left,” Vega said. “He’s working on tracking down Quinton and the necklace.”
I moved the covers aside, struggled against the pain and stiffness, and managed to lift my legs over the side of the bed.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“There are still two infernal bags.” I gritted my teeth and pushed myself the rest of the way up, releasing my breath as the pain subsided. “I could be working on finding them.”
“Everson…”
“Hey, if I can move, I can help.” I had been stripped to my boxers, and my abdomen was covered in bandages. The demon spawn must have really been doing a number on me when Pierce showed up.
“You need to stay here and rest,” Vega said.
“Where are my things? Was Pierce able to grab my sword and staff?” Losing my mother’s emo ball had been bad enough. I didn’t even want to think about being without my father’s blade too.
“Yes, but stop,” she ordered. “Listen to me.”
I’d been peering around the dark room, but now I turned to face her.
“That’s not coming from me. That’s from your Order.”
“The Order put me on bed rest?”
“Yes. And they want Pierce to handle the case from here.”
My stomach knotted, but not from pain. “Oh, is that what Pierce said?”
“Everson, he found the Ark. He’ll find Quinton and the remaining infernal bags.”
“Why don’t you just come out and say it.”
“Say what?”
“That the case would be wrapped up if I hadn’t interfered.”
“Nothing’s your fault. You made as much progress on the case as anyone.”
“But that’s what this is about, isn’t it? The Order didn’t pull the decree out of their butts. Pierce told them to kick me off the case.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Oh, no? Did he or did he not contact the Order?”
“Yes, but—”
“I rest my case.” I spotted my date-night clothes and coat on the dresser and staggered toward them. Someone had leaned my cane against the wall, right beside my shoes. I started to dress.
“Everson, this isn’t about you,” Vega said sternly.
“That’s funny. When I was with Thelonious just now, he told me a story about a demon paying him a visit. The demon ripped apart his harem and tortured him, all for some information on guess who?”
Her brow furrowed. “You?”
“Yup. So I’m guessing this whole thing has just a tiny bit to do with the wizard who can’t shoot straight.”
“Pierce did mention something about you having a role.”
“That’s nice. Was he ever going to get around to sharing that with me, or was that for your ears only?”
I winced as I drew my arm through what remained of my shirt sleeves, but there was nothing to button. The front of the shirt was in bloody tatters. Vega moved in front of me, grabbed my shirt collar, and pulled me down until we were eye level.
“Hey—ow!”
Her eyes glinted dangerously. “Listen, jerk. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. For some reason, your presence throws off Pierce’s divination. He thinks it has to do with your magic. He didn’t know you were going to be there tonight. That’s why he called to have you sidelined. Not because he doesn’t like you, or that this is some kind of pissing contest to him. But so his divination magic will work like it should. When he finds Quinton, he’ll neutralize the necklace and track down the remaining infernal bags. That’s what’s important right now. Preventing more deaths. Then you can do whatever you want to figure
out why this demon’s interested in you. I’m sure Pierce will help. Until then, you need to heal.”
“Fine,” I said. “Can I have my shirt back now?”
“Oh, and just in case this has something to do with Pierce and me working together, he’s gay.”
I paused. “He told you that?”
She yanked me closer. “I almost fucking lost you.”
When I saw the pain in her eyes, I sighed. Maybe Pierce wasn’t as Machiavellian as I’d made him out to be. I kissed her forehead and wrapped her in my arms. “I’m sorry,” I said.
After the way she’d just handled me, her return hug was surprisingly gentle. She ran her hands beneath my shirt and over my bare back. Pleasant waves, more soothing even than Pierce’s healing magic, moved through me.
I let her remove the clothes I’d managed to put on and help me back to bed. I watched her undress in the darkness until she was wearing only a black bra and boy shorts. Her muscles flexed as she climbed in after me.
“Just need a couple hours rest,” she murmured, nuzzling her warm body against my side.
“Are you trying to cuddle?”
“Shh. Go to sleep.”
But long after Vega’s breaths had deepened, I remained staring at the ceiling, going back over the torrent of events from that day and night. Something seemed off, something connected to what Thelonious had told me in his realm, but damned if I could put my finger on what.
At last I rested my head against the top of Vega’s and drifted off too.
23
I woke up to an empty bed and light glowing through the cracks of Vega’s blinds. I checked my watch and saw that it was a little past one on Sunday. Stretching my arms overhead, I let out a noisy yawn. I’d slept the sleep of the dead, which was fitting, considering how close I’d come.
My transition to sitting was much easier than the night before. Just some vague soreness around my ribs. Legs over the bedside, I peeled the bandages from my torso. A nasty network of scars criss-crossed my stomach, but I could feel Pierce’s magic working on them.
I chucked the dressing into the waste basket and stood on surprisingly sound legs. At the dresser, I found a clean-smelling stack of folded clothes that weren’t mine. A note sat on top of them.
I had to go back out. Camilla brought over some clean clothes in your size, and your coat’s in the dryer (everything from your pockets is on top of the machine—never realized how much you carried). I called the college to tell them you wouldn’t be in tomorrow and to cancel your classes.
Call me when you wake up!
Vega left her new number and a heart.
As I folded the note, I thought back to our dinner conversation on Friday. I really had been neglecting a good thing. I showered and then dressed in what turned out to be a pair of white slacks that flared out at the cuffs and a rainbow-colored disco shirt, then went to the kitchen to call Vega. I got her voicemail.
“Hey, Ricki,” I said. “I’m up, obviously, and feeling pretty good. I think the new duds have something to do with that. Thanks for taking care of me last night and this morning. I really do appreciate that. I’m going to head back to my apartment here in a minute. Becky’s still there, where I think she’ll be safest until Quinton is caught and the necklace taken care of.” I noticed that instead of saying until Pierce catches Quinton and takes care of the necklace, I’d slipped into passive voice. My ego didn’t know the contest was over. “I should be there by two or so, but in the meantime I’m going to raid your pantry. Talk soon.”
I surprised myself by downing half a box of Raisin Bran, along with a quart of milk, two chopped bananas, and some chocolate chips I’d found in the freezer. While I ate, I tried thinking about what had bothered me last night, but the act of shoveling the dripping cereal into my mouth was too distracting. Healing required a lot of calories, and I’d barely had any for the last two days. Now was eating time. I would have to set aside time for thinking later.
The instant I stepped across my apartment threshold, the tension hit me like a wall of pressure. Tabitha’s ears were pinned to her head; Becky was pacing the living room; and Gretchen’s door was closed.
“So,” I called cheerily. “How’s everyone doing?”
“Ugh,” Becky said. “You have to let me out of here.”
“No one’s stopping you,” Tabitha muttered.
“Oh, by the way, my cat talks,” I said, hitting Tabitha with an exasperated look. We’d had an understanding that she would keep that fact under wraps around non-supernaturals.
“It was a gray area,” Tabitha said, anticipating the future argument. “She was demon-possessed. Nice pants.”
I glanced down. I’d stuffed the bell-bottom cuffs inside my socks, but they’d worked their way back out and were now flaring beneath the hem of my cinched coat. Good thing she couldn’t see my shirt.
“That’s been going on all night,” Becky complained. “Little remarks about my ruined hair, my clothes, my piercings. I’m under enough stress as it is. And then there’s your roommate. God.”
“What did Gretchen do?”
“What didn’t she do? Besides the snoring, she slammed both doors every time she got up to use the bathroom. And the last time, she didn’t even have the courtesy to turn on the fan. Thought that was bad until she started cooking breakfast—at five a.m. The cheese she used in her omelet is the most evil fucking thing I’ve ever smelled. Someone needs to exorcize that.”
I picked up the lingering odor. “Well, I can’t argue with you there.”
“I can hear you,” Gretchen called from my bedroom.
“But,” I added, loud enough for Gretchen, “she healed your soul, so be grateful. There are few who could have managed that.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Look, she’s batshit crazy, but you’re only going to be here for a little longer. Think about me and Tabitha.”
“Is she your mom or something?” Becky asked.
“Gretchen? God, no.”
“I heard that too!” Gretchen called.
Becky glared at the wall, her hands balling into fists. “I’m on, like, no sleep.”
“Here, have a seat.” I sat on the couch and gestured to the reading chair opposite me. “I’ve got some updates.”
Becky walked over wearily and flopped down. “Sorry. On top of everything, I’m going through nicotine withdrawal.” Making a face, she dug behind the cushion and pulled out my pager. “Is this yours?”
So that’s where the damned thing ended up, I thought, taking it from her.
“Did you find my friends?” she asked.
“I did.” I checked the pager, saw all of Vega’s calls, then dropped the device into my coat’s deepest pocket. “They were down in that underground room you told me about, performing the induction ceremony.” I skipped over the blow-by-blow or the fact that I’d nearly bought it. “Four of your friends were caught, their infernal bags tracked down, but Quinton escaped with the necklace. There’s a hunt on for him now.”
“Still, that’s pretty good,” she said.
“Yeah, well, I had some help.” I swallowed my pride. “A lot of help.” I changed the subject. “Hey, you knew about the tunnels. Do you have any idea where Quinton might have gone? Any places he’s used in the past to lay low?”
As I watched Becky squint in thought, I remembered what Vega had said about my presence interfering with Pierce’s divination magic. The idea still rankled me—like my magic was so bad it was infectious. But if the Order was calling me off, what could I do?
“I don’t know about a specific place,” she said at last. “But he used to have this old trawler boat docked at Red Hook, in Brooklyn. It belonged to an uncle or something. I’m not sure if it’s still there, but I remember him saying once that if things got real bad, we could crash there.”
“Sounds like a good hiding spot,” I said, getting up.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted to replenish my spell items and head there myself. That was more or less t
he way I’d operated for the last twelve years. But I picked up the phone instead.
“Vega,” she answered.
“Hey, it’s me. Did you get my message?”
“Yeah, but listen, I’m in the middle of something. There’s been another attack.”
My heart stopped before starting up again. I could hear a commotion of voices and sirens around her.
“Where?”
“Museum of Natural History. Upper West Side. A couple of officers were here yesterday as part of the dragnet, but they didn’t find anything. The bag must have been one of Quinton’s, well hidden. The attack’s over and the bag’s been neutralized, but the damage is done.”
I was afraid to ask. “How many?”
“At least forty.”
“Dammit.”
With the Ark broken, I’d thought Damien would be too weak to activate his remaining infernal bags. He must have drawn against the souls he’d claimed. Regardless, we were up to seventy now. And if Thelonious was right about how far up the chain this demon went, Damien was going to need a helluva lot more souls to break through. That meant either his remaining infernal bag was a whopper, or Quinton was forming a new Ark to make more bags.
“How’s Pierce doing?” I asked.
“He’s getting some impressions. He thinks he’ll have something actionable by tonight.”
“Well, I don’t want to mess up anything,” I said, fighting to keep the bitterness out of my voice, “but Becky gave me a location where Quinton might be.”
“Where?”
“An old trawler docked in Red Hook. He’s talked in the past about crashing there.” I paused. “I’d be happy to—”
“What are you going to be doing?” she cut in. She’d known what I’d been about to say, and she didn’t want to have to tell me no again. I recognized the kindness and chose not to push it.
“Well, changing clothes for one. Otherwise, eating, resting, probably restocking some spell items and potions.” My heart sank as I thought about my mother’s emo ball, lost for good. “You know, generally putting myself back together. I’ll be here or with my pager. If you need anything, or if I can help in any way, just let me know.”
Black Luck (Prof Croft Book 5) Page 16
