by R. L. King
“Why aren’t you stopping her?” Lara moved as if to step out from behind their cover.
Stone grabbed her arm. “Wait. Her target is gone, so we’ve got a moment.”
“Gone?”
“Yes. But she’s still fixated on killing the mayor. She’ll try to get away. We need to stop her.”
“Can’t you use your magic?”
“We heard a shot—” Verity began.
“She took one at me. She blames me for taking her target away.”
Lara rose from her crouch. “I’m gonna talk to her.”
“Lara—”
“She’s not gonna shoot me, Stone.” She yanked her arm from his grip. “We’re like sisters. She’d never hurt me. Just watch, and take your chance when you can.” She glared at him. “And don’t hurt her. Got it?” Without waiting for a reply, she stalked out in the direction of where Iris hid.
“Iris!” she called. “It’s me. Lara! Come on out. Let’s talk!”
There was no answer.
“Iris!” she called again. “Come on. Nobody’s gonna hurt you. We’re here to help. You know I’d never hurt you. If you don’t come out, I’m comin’ over there.”
Still no answer.
From cover, Stone and Verity watched the exchange carefully. “You sure she’s over there?” Verity asked.
Stone switched back to magical sight with an offhand glance, expecting the thread to continue pointing at the enclosure where Iris had been hiding.
It wasn’t. Instead, the bright white cord angled off to Stone’s left. “She’s moving! Lara, look out—”
Another loud crack sounded as another shot fired.
Lara yelped, spun, and fell.
“You won’t stop me!” Iris screamed, taking off running back toward the other side of the roof.
Stone didn’t hesitate. Shield still up, he launched himself after the fleeing woman. “Verity!” he yelled over his shoulder. “Help Lara!”
He ran without waiting for a response, forcing himself not to speculate about whether Iris had killed her cousin. It was hard to track her up here—she kept ducking behind cover, and he couldn’t run with magical sight up. If he let her get away, though, she’d find another way to get to the mayor—and the figurine’s magic would very likely make it possible for her to do it.
“Iris!” he yelled.
Another gunshot, and another round slammed into his shield, rocking him back. The barrier was still strong, but it wouldn’t hold forever. Slowing his pace for a moment, Stone risked a quick look at his figurine’s thread. It still pointed back toward the other side of the roof—she was probably heading for the door to the stairway leading down. That had to be the way Verity and Lara had gotten up here. He sped up again, hoping he was right.
She’d almost made it there when he spotted her, lunging toward the door to wrench it open. He lashed out with his magic, holding it shut.
She roared with rage and fired another shot at him. This one went wide, which told him she was getting desperate. Was that the figurine, or her? Still holding the shield up and the door shut, he tried to grab her with a telekinetic grip. Three spells at the same time were difficult even when he wasn’t stressed—he wasn’t sure he could do it, but he had to do it.
“NO!” she screamed. She fired again, wrenching herself sideways. She abandoned her efforts to get the door open and took off away from him, toward the edge of the building.
He thought she’d change direction, and didn’t catch on to her plan until she’d made it all the way to the edge. As he looked on in horror, she leaped up on the low lip surrounding the building. With another roar of rage, she flung herself forward into the night.
Stone only had an instant to act before she fell out of view. He dropped the shield and his hold on the door, throwing every shred of his concentration and focus into a last, desperate telekinetic grip. If he didn’t grab her, she’d plummet to her death twenty stories below. Visions of Zack flashed through his mind.
For a second he thought he’d failed. Her flailing, screaming form almost twisted free of his grasp as most of her body disappeared below the roof line. He didn’t have enough time to run there before she was gone. He only had one chance. His whole body shook as he threw one last, desperate attempt.
His hold clamped on to her arm. Without caring if he hurt her, he wrenched upward. Would it be enough? His grip was already slipping as she writhed and screamed.
And then, suddenly, her scream changed from one of rage to one of terror. Stone barely got her up and over the lip before he lost his hold on her arm and she dropped in a heap on the roof’s gritty surface.
Stone hurried over to her, bringing the shield back up in case she planned to take another shot at him. “Iris?”
She remained where she was, curled into a sobbing heap.
Stone approached closer. “Iris? Are you all right?”
“I…I…” She mumbled something else he couldn’t hear.
“Iris!” He crouched next to her. “Give me the figurine!”
Again, she mumbled something unintelligible.
“Where’s the figurine?” He couldn’t see any sign of her gun—she wasn’t holding it, and she must have left the rifle behind at her sniper’s nest.
“Dropped it…Oh my God…I killed Lara. I killed Lara!” Her voice rose to a wail, and she pounded on the graveled roof with both gloved fists.
Dropped it. Stone glanced toward the roof edge, then shifted to magical sight and looked at his own figurine. It lay dead in his hand, an empty husk. The thread was gone. She was telling the truth.
He put a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Iris. Let’s go back. You might not have killed her. Let’s check.”
She didn’t seem to want to go, but finally she allowed him to pull her to her feet and lead her, still shaking and sobbing, back to where Verity bent over the still, prone form of Lara.
“Oh, God, Lara!” Iris shrieked, tearing free of Stone’s hold and flinging herself down next to her fallen cousin.
Stone hurried to follow. “Verity—”
“Shh,” she snapped, distracted. She was on her knees next to Lara, moving her hands over the woman’s abdomen.
Stone stiffened as Iris’s sobs redoubled. Lara was unconscious, blood soaking the middle part of her shirt. Her skin, normally tanned, was ashen, but her chest still rose and fell with shallow breaths.
He took firm hold of Iris and dragged her backward. “Iris!” he snapped in her ear. “Listen to me!”
She stared at him, eyes red, nose streaming, breath hitching in terror. “She’s—she’s—I—”
“Listen!” he ordered, shaking her until she focused on him. “We can still salvage this situation, but you’ve got to pull yourself together! My apprentice here is her best chance to survive this. Let her work!”
“She—you—”
“Verity can help her. But you’ve got to let her concentrate!”
Iris’s gaze cut sideways, over to where she’d left the rifle. “I—”
“We’ll explain later. Just wait.”
Verity’s phone rang. Barely breaking her focus fixed on Lara’s body, she snatched it from her pocket and flung it at Stone.
He caught it and hit the button.
“What’s going on?” It was Kyla. “Verity, where are you? Did you find—”
“It’s me,” Stone said. “Verity’s here. We found Iris.”
“Is she—”
“She’s alive. She hasn’t killed anyone…not yet, anyway.”
“Not yet?”
“She shot Lara. Verity’s working on her now.”
“Oh, my God.” Her voice lost all its force. “Lara…where are you? Did you call an ambulance? Maybe Hezzie can—”
“Verity’s a whiz at this. Trust me. She’s Lara’s best chance. We’re on the roof of the hotel. Best to stay down there and stay out of the way. They’re looking for a shooter at the rally.”
Suspicion returned to her voice. “Why are they�
�”
“Have to go, Kyla. Talk later.” He hung up.
Verity was still working on Lara, hunched over and sweating with effort, so Stone punched in Blum’s number. He continued to keep a watch on the sobbing Iris, who was on her knees now, her gaze fixed on Lara.
“Yeah, Blum. Who’s this?”
“Blum. Stone. You can tell your men to stand down—the situation’s handled.”
“What do you mean, it’s handled?”
He glanced around. “There’s no more danger. I found the would-be shooter and the figurine’s neutralized. You might find it on the ground somewhere around the west-side wall of the hotel.”
“What the—why the hell is it there?”
“Can’t say right now, Detective. I’ve got to go now. But I promise, there’s no more danger.”
“Where are you?”
“Can’t say that either. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow.” He hung up again and put the phone in his pocket next to his own.
Together, he and Iris, who was shaking now but silent, watched as Verity continued to work over Lara. Stone knew better than to say anything and disrupt her focus, so he switched his attention between the healing and the rest of the roof. He hoped the wind and all the sound downstairs had been enough to muffle the gunshots—or if not, at least to obscure their origin. Still, they had to get out of here soon.
It was another five minutes before Verity’s shoulders slumped and she let her breath out. “There…” she whispered. “I think I got it all.” She held something up in her palm. “Here’s the bullet.”
That sent Iris into a fresh round of sobs.
“Did you stop the bleeding?” Stone asked. “Is it safe to move her?” He offered Verity a hand up.
She let him haul her to her feet. “Yeah. She’s lost blood so she’ll be out of it for a while, but she’ll be okay.”
“She’s—not dead?” Iris asked in a small voice.
“Nope. She’ll be fine.” Verity put a hand on her shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, Iris. That thing had its hooks in you. We’ve gotta get out of here. Doc, do you have my phone?”
He handed it over.
“Let’s call Kyla and have her pick us up. She’s got a van. Can you carry her and keep anybody from seeing us?”
“Yes. You keep an eye on Iris. Hold on.” He jogged off to where Iris had set up her sniper’s nest. A long duffel bag lay behind the enclosure, hidden from his view as he’d approached her. Using magic so he didn’t leave fingerprints, he gathered the gun, the tripod, and the tarp she’d set up to lie on, put them all in the bag, and brought it back to where the others waited. When Verity took it, he bent to lift Lara. Fortunately, her wiry, athletic build was small and light. “Come on. I don’t want to be here if anyone figures out where those shots came from.”
He took a last quick glance at Iris, to make sure she’d follow; her eyes looked haunted now, and she didn’t take her gaze off her cousin in Stone’s arms.
Using a combination of Stone’s and Verity’s illusionary magic, they managed to make it downstairs without anyone spotting them. They took the same maintenance elevator Verity and Lara had taken to get to the roof, and it let them out in a deserted hallway on the first floor. Verity called Kyla, who brought the van around so they could meet her near a back door.
She was ready for them, waiting impatiently with the van’s door slid open. She gaped in horror when she spotted Stone carrying the blood-soaked Lara. Inside the back of the van, Greta and Hezzie looked equally terrified.
“What the—” Hezzie began, as Greta came forward to take Lara from Stone and lay her across the rear bench seat.
“Later. Everyone in. We need to go.” Stone motioned for Verity and Iris to get into the back, and he climbed into the shotgun seat. He could feel Lara’s blood soaking into his coat and shirt, but it was nearly invisible against the fabric. Score another one for black clothes.
Kyla took off before Stone even had his door closed, and soon they were crawling along in the evening traffic. “Does she need a hospital? What the hell happened? Why did Iris shoot Lara?”
“She doesn’t need a hospital,” Stone said. He sat slumped against the passenger window, keeping a close eye all around them in case any police took an interest. “Verity healed her. She’ll be fine.”
“You did?” Kyla twisted in her seat to face Verity as they stopped at a red light. “You healed her?”
“Yeah. Kinda what I do.”
“That’s not all she does by a long way,” Stone said. “But she’s bloody good at it. We’re just lucky she was there, since Hezzie wasn’t.”
Hezzie was kneeling on the floor in the back row, inspecting Lara’s abdomen. “I couldn’t have healed this,” she said in a small voice. “No way. This is way beyond what I can do. She’d have died if I’d been there.”
Iris had finally pulled herself together enough to speak coherently. She looked at Kyla, then at Stone. “What…happened to me?” Her voice still shook, and so did her hands.
“Long story,” Stone said. He lowered his voice and asked Kyla, “Does she know about—?”
Kyla shook her head without taking her eyes off the road.
“I think that might need to change, at least a bit.” Louder, he repeated, “Long story. Short answer: something took over your mind and made you do what you were doing. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Took…over my mind? What…what do you mean?”
“It’s hard to explain. I’ll let your friends take care of that. For now, we just need to get everyone away from here and safe.”
Iris subsided, returning her attention to her cousin, and said nothing for the rest of the trip.
Eventually, they pulled into a large single-car garage beneath a two-story townhouse. Everybody piled out of the van; when Stone made as if to lean back in to pick up Lara, Greta glared at him—though the glare contained perhaps a bit less enmity than before—and picked her up herself. Since she was so short it looked a bit comical to see her carrying the taller Lara, but her physical strength was obvious. Stone didn’t push it.
Inside, the others were already waiting. Stone and Verity stood back as they all fussed over Lara, getting her settled on a sofa and covered with a blanket. She’d awakened by now, though she was clearly still weak.
Stone looked around their surroundings. The place was quite a bit nicer than he’d expected, given what he knew of the Harpies so far; it looked more like the home of a moderately successful professional than a tenement bolthole.
After Lara was comfortable and a couple of the other Harpies had led Iris out to the kitchen to talk to her, Kyla walked over to Stone and Verity.
“Listen,” she said to Stone, sounding uncomfortable. “I…want to thank you—we all want to thank you—for helping with Iris. That could have ended a lot worse, and we owe you for that.”
“Think nothing of it,” Stone said. “I’m just glad it ended as well as it did.” He pulled out the cracked white figurine. “That’s another one down—only one left now.”
Kyla turned to Verity, and Stone didn’t miss the fact that both their expressions changed as they focused on each other. “And you—you saved Lara’s life. That’s something we can’t ever repay. If Hezzie’s right, and she knows her own capabilities so I don’t doubt it, Lara would have died if you didn’t help.” She pulled Verity into a hard hug. “So…thanks. You’re a damn good witch,” she added, shooting a significant look over Verity’s shoulder at Stone.
Verity returned the hug. “Thanks. I’m glad I could help. But I’m only kind of a witch. Mostly, I’m a mage.”
“We’ll see. Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Uh…sure.”
“Excuse me, then,” Stone said smoothly. “I’ll check on Iris.”
Greta intercepted him as he headed toward the kitchen. “The cops gonna give us any trouble?”
“I don’t see why they would. No one was hurt—that they know of—and the mayor is safe from ha
rm. They might trace the gunshots to the roof of the hotel. If they do, they might find the bloodstains, since we didn’t have time to clean them up. But without any idea who they might belong to, I doubt they’ll have much chance of tracking it down.”
Greta looked dubious.
“Don’t worry—I’ll talk to the detective I’m working with. He knows about the figurines and about magic. He doesn’t know any of you were involved. I’ll make sure it stays that way.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Thanks.” It sounded grudging, but heartfelt.
“Where did you put my car, by the way?”
“Garage on Pine.” She fished in her pocket and pulled out a ticket and the key. “You’ll have to pay to get it out, though. Ain’t cheap.”
“Not a problem.”
Ten minutes later, Verity found him as he looked out the window into the darkened street. “Doc…?” she said, sounding uncharacteristically tentative.
“Yes? Is everything all right? Are you ready to leave?”
“Well…that’s the thing. I…think I might stay till tomorrow. I’d like to have some more time to talk to Kyla.”
He frowned. “Stay?” Then he got a look at Kyla, who was watching Verity from across the room. Her expression was unmistakable. “Ah,” he said, nodding. “Talk.”
She swallowed. “Are you…okay with it?”
“Why are you asking me that?”
“You know,” she murmured. “I just want to know if you…mind. Kyla and I got to talking while we were hunting for Iris, and…”
Stone patted her shoulder. “It’s fine, Verity. I thought we had an understanding. You two have a lovely evening.”
She blinked. “That’s it?”
“Of course. Have you got cab fare back?”
Her uncomfortable expression melted away, and she gave him a relieved smile. “Yeah, I got this. Thanks, Doc.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He held up the ticket Greta had given him. “Right now, I’ve got to figure out where that woman put my car.”
As he stood outside the house waiting for his cab to arrive to take him to the parking garage, Stone pulled out the little white figurine again and studied it.
Six down, one more to go. The last one was the winged serpent. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t associate it with a particular type of crime like he had the others. All he could be sure of was that it would likely be something big. Even the piece itself was bigger, nearly twice the size of its counterparts.
