Dervishes Don't Dance: A Paranormal Suspense Novel with a Touch of Romance (Valkyrie Bestiary Book 2)

by Kim McDougall

  “That might have been true once.” Pierre smiled coldly. “But you gave up real alchemy after you made your precious Angus. I have been honing my craft ever since.”

  “Don’t you get it?” Mason shook his head in disgust. “Polina cursed you just as surely as she did me. How long have you been trying to free her? Three hundred years? You should be dust in the ground, my old friend. Only her curse and your obsession are keeping you alive. It’s not natural. And if you do break the bloodstone, she’ll toss you like garbage as soon as she’s free.”

  Pierre crossed the room in three long strides and punched Mason in the stomach. With the golem still gripping his arms, Mason couldn’t even double over. He simply went limp as all the air rushed out of him.

  “I’ve wanted to do that ever since you took my darling Polina from me.” Pierre grinned like a kid facing a pile of birthday presents. “Now do shut up, while I finally free her.”

  Mason sucked in air, then found his feet again.

  “You should kill me now, Pierre. The only chance you’ll have is while I’m restrained. And it won’t last. Once I’m free, I’ll come after you and I won’t stop this time.”

  What was he doing? Trash talking his way into a quick death? But Pierre just smiled a cold reptilian smile.

  “I would never take Polina’s vengeance from her. She has great plans for you. She whispers them to me at night.” His eyes were full of mania as he gazed at the bloodstone, locked into the vise on the machine. “She comes to me and tells me all sorts of things. I feel her inside me.”

  He was completely bonkers.

  “She knew you would come. Knew you wouldn’t stay away. But you,” he came to stand in front of me. “I heard about you from Joran. Do you remember him? He was my son. And you killed him.”

  “Your son?” It was such a disconnect that the rest of his words were momentarily lost to me.

  Pierre smirked. “I created him but not in a lab.” He giggled. “Though I suppose I could have done that too. No, I found him on the street, him and his sister. A couple of starving kids, running from abusive parents. I took them in and gave them everything they wanted. But I also molded them to my purpose. So you see, I made them as much as Mason made his son, Angus.”

  Angus? I was having trouble following Pierre’s mad ramblings because my attention was on the golem that held me in its vise grip. I tried to work myself loose, but the more I struggled, the tighter it held on until I thought the pinch of its fingers would break my arms.

  Pierre continued to prattle. “You can understand that I was rather put out when I learned of Joran’s death.” He hovered over me, his eyes drawn to my sword. “But at least it brought me to you and the final piece of the puzzle.”

  “It won’t work.” I croaked out the words. “Barton Kemp couldn’t get my sword to break the bloodstone and neither will you.”

  He glared at me, his nose almost close enough to touch mine.

  “Don’t worry, I don’t need you. Unlike that simpleton, Kemp, I understand how Valkyrie blades work. And without a willing Valkyrie, they are useless. But I’ve been watching you. It seems you bring other assets to the table.” He looked at Jacoby and smiled. “I would have plucked this little guy off the street. It would have been much simpler, but he kept disappearing. Can’t do that now, can you?”

  I struggled in the golem’s grip and kicked out. Pierre sidestepped me and reached for Jacoby.

  “No!” I yelled as Jacoby squeaked and ported away, leaving only his teddy-bear backpack in Pierre’s grip with Errol still clinging to the bear’s head.

  Jacoby continued to ricochet around the room.

  “Hello, what’s this.” Pierre peered down at Errol. The bodach jabbed him in the cheek with his twig. A zap of galvanic magic stung Pierre. His face went red and he snarled. “You’ll do.”

  He stomped over to the machine, opened the glass tube, dropped Errol inside and slammed the door. At three inches high, Errol looked lost in the giant tube. He ran around the edge, prodding the glass with his stick, until Pierre hit a switch and blue energy sizzled through the glass perimeter.

  Errol toppled. His tiny body arched as the machine pumped massive amounts of magic into him. He screamed inside my head. The glass tube glowed and hummed loud enough that I could barely hear Pierre’s constant babble over it.

  I fought against the golem’s restraints, until my arms were bruised and my breath came in heaves. Across the room, Mason fought too.

  Where the hell was Merrow? Was she really going to stick to her “witness only” plan while Errol was being murdered?

  Pierre studied the bloodstone with a fierce grin. The machine zapped Errol at five-second intervals. Each time, his body convulsed. Jacoby cried and bounced futilely against the walls.

  I had exhausted my struggle, and I looked around the lab for a weapon. Anything. I spotted a row of grow lights with potted plants under them and reached for them with my magic—no plan, no thought other than distracting Pierre. I strained to thrust my magic outward. Nothing. I pushed again. This time, my magic lashed out, and the plants exploded. Their container shattered, showering the room in glass. I gasped as a sharp pain lanced through my head. The room turned black for a moment. When I recovered, I felt blood dribble from my nose. The plant stand lay in a mangled heap of vines, dirt and glass.

  So much for my green magic.

  Pierre continued to fiddle with the connection from the tube to the bloodstone. Something was wrong. His machine wasn’t working. He cranked a dial and magic zapped Errol again. Harder.

  Errol’s screamed tore through my mind, leaving the edges of my psyche ragged.

  Jacoby screamed too, then ported right inside the tube with Errol. He hugged the bodach against his chest.

  No! I couldn’t lose them both!

  Pierre cranked the machine again. The magic zapped Jacoby. He yelped and danced like he stood on a hot plate.

  Then he started to spin.

  I screamed at him to get out, but he was already too far gone.

  “Ah, that’s more like it!” Pierre shouted above the noise. “Has anyone ever seen a dervish go nova? It’s a beautiful thing! Apart from breaking our bloodstone, the chemical reaction will be quite stunning.” He grinned proudly.

  Jacoby spun faster. Smoked poured from his ears. I could no longer see Errol, lost in Jacoby’s fur as the dervish hugged him. Around the bloodstone, a ball of blue energy formed. I locked my personal wards down tight, knowing what was coming.

  Jacoby spun. Faster. Tiny spikes of blue magic jabbed him, urging him on. His feet no longer touched the ground. A whirlwind of smoky magic lifted him. His eyes rolled to white, and his head fell back. Fire flared around his feet and legs. Flames filled the glass tube until Jacoby was lost inside. A moment of silence, then… BOOM!

  What happened next took seconds—fractions of a second, maybe—but it felt like forever.

  Glass exploded, tearing through counters, machines and skin. The lights went out as debris smashed the bulbs. In the darkness, something hit my golem. It lurched, giving me a precious second to free my arm and draw my sword. I slashed off its other arm and planted my foot in the middle of its chest, kicking it against the wall.

  Security lights came on, teasing the smoky room with an eerie blue light. My keening sensed the ghosts before I saw them. The blue ball of energy around the bloodstone splintered into human forms. Dozens of them. Hundreds. Thousands. They blew through the lab, shrieking in fury for being imprisoned or in glee for finally being free. They flew around my head as I crouched on the broken glass. Even with my tight wards, they buffeted me with so much magic that the edges of my vision darkened. I could only think how glad I was that my sword was silent.

  The ghosts continued their caterwauling for another minute, then blew through the walls and disappeared.

  The broken track lights sparked.
I coughed through the smoke and rose, looking for the others. Merrow was gone or still hidden in glamor. I couldn’t see Errol. Jacoby was dead or unconscious in the wreckage of Pierre’s machine. Pierre lay unmoving beside him.

  A woman stood naked in the middle of the room. Large dark eyes surveyed the wreckage and landed on Mason who was slowly rising.

  “Hello, husband.”

  Chapter

  27

  She wasn’t a ghost. That was my first thought. She looked like an angel, with red gold hair flowing down her pink body. Her pink, very solid body. She looked at the broken glass around her feet and made a little moue with her lips.

  “Pierre!” Her voice whipped out, and Pierre sat up with a jerk. Blood leaked from a wound on his head. “Get me some clothes and shoes.”

  Pierre rose on unsteady feet and went to a row of cupboards at the back of the room, pulled out a bundle and returned. He handed her a green silk robe and a pair of sandals. He wore a stupid grin on his face.

  “Polina, my love!” He tried to kiss her, but Polina thumped him on the chest with the flat of her hand. Her fingers crackled with magic. Pierre flew backward and landed hard against the broken machine.

  Polina put on the clothes and smoothed her hair as if she had just stepped from the bath.

  “That’s better.”

  I sat among the glass and debris, trying to quell the nausea rising in me from that blast of magic. I needed to get to Jacoby. I rose onto my knees, wobbled and tried to stand.

  “Kyra! Behind you!” Mason yelled. He lunged, knocking me aside just as the one-handed golem’s fist whooshed through the empty air where my head had been. Mason and I tumbled across the floor, landing with me on top, gazing down at his bloody, bruised face.

  “Isn’t that sweet,” Polina’s voice dripped with sarcasm. The golem lunged for us again, but Polina shot out a hand and made a crushing motion with her fist. The golem’s head exploded, and it crumpled to the ground, inches from my face.

  Polina continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted. “Always the knight in shining armor, aren’t you, husband? Saving little girls and gargoyles and every goddamned soul you come across, except for me. Your wife!”

  I stared at the clumps of red clay that had been the golem’s head. By the One-eyed God! What kind of magic did she possess to destroy with a mere thought?

  “Are you okay?” Mason whispered.

  I tried to focus on his face. His lip was bleeding. His eyes were dark and angry.

  “It was…there were ghosts. So many ghosts. Did they all come from the bloodstone?”

  “Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.

  My head pounded. Mason rolled me to the side and helped me sit up. We faced Polina who watched our little interaction with a sneer marring her perfect face.

  “You always were a fool for love, Henry.” She turned toward Pierre, who had pushed himself up again and now hovered behind her with blood dripping into his eyes from a gash on his forehead.

  “Polina, I did what you asked,” Pierre said. “My daughter waits outside to take you from here. Your granddaughter, of a sort. She carries your blood. I keep the line alive just as you asked. Tell me what more I can do.”

  Pierre trembled with joy or anticipation or a perverse combination of the two. I liked him better when he was just a mad scientist. This new sycophantic Pierre was pathetic. Polina seemed to agree.

  “Do shut up.” Her hand shot out, and my stomach roiled as magic hit Pierre. His mouth disappeared. It just vanished, leaving only a smooth expanse of skin from nose to chin. His eyes bulged. He tried to scream but only managed a muffled hum. He tore at his face with his nails, scoring it with red lines, before falling to his knees.

  “Whoops! I guess I’m out of practice.” Polina laughed. It was a girlish sound. She waved her hand again, restoring Pierre’s face, but he was broken. Tears cut through the blood on his cheeks, and his eyes had gone blank and glassy.

  Mason stood and faced his ex-wife. “You’ve been gone a long time, Polina. You won’t find it so easy to do as you please now.”

  She flexed her neck side to side and rolled her shoulders as if testing her body.

  “Really? Because I feel good. Strong. You left me in that damned prison for how long? Hundreds of years, at least. But I had company. Did you see all those souls that escaped with me? Weren’t they delicious? Another hundred years and I could have consumed them all.” She rubbed her stomach like a child anticipating a sweet treat.

  Mason’s right arm turned to stone, and he raised it to strike, but Pierre suddenly came out of his stupor and tackled him. They tumbled to the ground like a couple of brawling boys.

  Polina smiled, stepped delicately over the broken glass and out the door.

  “Kyra! Don’t let her get away!” Mason’s cry was garbled as Pierre’s hands closed around his throat.

  I glanced at Jacoby, lying inert among the remains of the machine, then at the door where Polina had disappeared. I followed her.

  The explosion had knocked out the lights in the tunnel, leaving only the glare from the lab. I ran into darkness and stopped at the fork. To the right, lay the long, dark path back to Susanna’s lab, but a faint glow—a paler blue against the blackness—told me the door was open to the right.

  I dashed up the stairs and came out behind the old Stewart Hall. A blast of pure magic smashed me against the metal door and I fell, gasping for breath as the wind was knocked from my lungs.

  “Does he love you?” Polina stood ten feet away. The moon graced her, and she seemed to glow like an angel of death. I braced for another blast of magic. Instead, she stepped on my fingers and twisted her foot to grind them into the cement. I screamed, then used the pain to fuel rage. With my good hand, I yanked her by the ankle. My angle was bad, and I couldn’t drop her, but she staggered to regain her balance. Pain lanced through my broken fingers as I clenched them around a fistful of rock and sand and flung it at her face.

  “Putain!” she screamed, reverting to old French in her rage.

  I barely stood on shaking legs while she wiped her eyes. I had no strength left…bleeding from several cuts…my left hand useless…my wards shredded. Even in this sorry state, I couldn’t shake my Aunt Dana’s teachings.

  Never lie down in defeat. You are Valkyrie. Act like one!

  I dove at Polina and tackled her around the waist. A breath of air rushed out of her as we hit the brick wall. For a moment, I could do nothing but hang on. I punched her in the gut. It was feeble and inconsequential, but I raised my fist for another strike…

  …and found myself flat on my back, staring at the stars. My limbs twitched with the remains of her magic strike. Then Polina loomed over me again.

  I desperately wanted my null bracelet but couldn’t move even the few inches to pull it from my pocket.

  “You didn’t answer my question, little whore. Does he love you?” Her face twisted in rage. Magic lashed around her in a furious cloud, making her hair billow on invisible currents. Deep creases etched a line from her mouth to nose, and her skin seemed to sag. She’d expended a lot of magic, and it was wearing on her.

  I couldn’t speak through the pain. I could only hope to outlast her. But then she smoothed down her hair and stepped away. The swirling magic quieted. “Of course he does. Henry always was a hopeless romantic.”

  How easily she tucked away her immense power. But I could still feel it coiling around her as she readied for another strike. I scrambled away, hugging my broken fingers to my chest.

  Polina yelped as a figure leapt from the shadows and tackled her.

  “How dare you!” Polina screamed after a brief scuffle. The figure flew, landing at my feet in a broken heap. Brown eyes stared up at me with fury.

  Emil.

  What was he doing here? I didn’t care. I had never been so happy to see a vampire in my lif
e. He rose and twisted a broken arm back into place, then stood between me and Polina.

  “I will tear out your throat and drain you dry, witch.” Emil showed his impressive fangs.

  Polina looked around Emil and smiled at me. “Oh, this will be fun. Does Henry know you have another admirer?”

  A car pulled up, and Susanna poked her head through the driver-side window. “Grandmother! We have to hurry!”

  Polina spun. “Never call me that!”

  Susanna looked stung. “Yes, Gran—I mean, yes, mistress. But we have to go.” Sirens wailed in the distance. Hub was finally coming to investigate the explosion.

  Polina glanced back at me with a smirk. “This is better anyway. Give Henry a big kiss for me, won’t you? And tell him that we will catch up on old times soon.”

  She blew me a kiss. Emil lunged for her, but I held him back. She was too powerful.

  Polina walked over to the car. “Such an interesting carriage. I think I’m going to enjoy this new world.” She fiddled with the door for a moment, then got in, and they drove away.

  I turned to Emil. “Can you wait here for Hub? Tell them to go down the stairs and turn right.”

  Emil nodded. “Go.”

  I ran back into the darkness and skidded to a stop inside the lab. Pierre and Mason were at a stand-off. Pierre had found a shard of glass and he held it like a knife, even though blood dripped from his hand. He was panting. Mason’s shirt was slashed in several places, and blood matted it to his side. His left arm was still stone, and he swung it like a boxer, connecting with Pierre’s jaw, then smashing down on his skull.

  Pierre crumpled to the ground and didn’t get up. A pool of blood spread out from his head.

  We stood staring at his body for several long seconds. The only sound was Mason’s breathing. It was wet and ragged, as if he’d punctured a lung.

  “Get down on your knees! Hands on your heads!” A voice shouted from the doorway. Hub officers in tactical gear swarmed into the lab, their flashlights piercing the gloom like white blades.