by Cat Adams
I shuddered. “Fine,” I lied.
He didn’t look like he believed me, but he didn’t argue. He was too busy landing the plane. Just as well. I needed to get a grip—couldn’t have the client seeing me a total wreck.
By the time we were on the ground, I’d regained enough self-control to at least put on a good front. When we were safely parked and unloading the luggage, I asked Rahim, “So, what is the plan?”
“I believe that doing a spell similar to the ceremony we tried the other night, but with the stone from his jar as the focus, should give me enough of a link to him. I don’t doubt Hasan has ingested the power from the vosta; his heightened magic will make him harder to control, but it will also make it more difficult for him to hide.” Rahim gave me a searching look. “There is a better way, but I cannot ask it of you.”
Uh-oh. “What way?”
“Hasan possessed your body. You were him. There is no better link than that.” His expression had become speculative. He might not ask me to act as the focus for his spell, but he was sure as hell hoping I’d volunteer.
Shit. Heaping, stinking mounds of shit.
I so did not want to do this. But we needed to find Hasan. The odds of using the gem from his jar probably weren’t good or they’d have tried it before. I didn’t doubt that I really was the best bet. Even without Rahim working any magic, I could almost feel the ifrit out there, lurking at the fringes of my consciousness.
Then I had a really horrible thought. What if my nightmare had come to me through that connection with Hasan?
You’re not as stupid as you look. Hasan spoke in my mind, condescending and amused as always. It terrified me. It also pissed me off.
Get the fuck out of my head. I mentally enunciated every single word.
No. There was no give in the word. They want you dead. You need me if you are to survive until I need you.
Why? What do you want from me?
That’s for me to know and you to wonder.
I blinked. I mean, seriously, that was so childish, a phrase right from a playground memory.
Where do you think I learned it? There is nothing about you, no thought, no memory, I don’t know intimately. I know you better than you know yourself.
Then you know I’d rather die than let you have my body.
Yes, but I also know you won’t allow them to kill you if there’s any hope of stopping me. And you always hope.
He was right. And my best hope was standing right in front of me, no matter how little I trusted the bastard. “How long would you need to keep the spell going to find him?” I asked Rahim.
“Not long, particularly with a human link—one minute, maybe two.”
You don’t want to do that, Hasan said.
One minute doesn’t sound long—but a lot can happen in that amount of time, particularly when you’re dealing with supernatural beings.
I want you out of my head, I insisted.
That’s not going to happen.
Oh yes, it was. It so was. I wasn’t sure how, but I would get every last bit of Hasan out of me or die trying. If I needed to cooperate with Rahim Patel to do it, so be it. Still, if I was going to do that, I wanted a trick or two up my sleeve. Because ultimately I knew, absolutely and without question, that Rahim would sacrifice me in a heartbeat if he thought it would help him capture Hasan. And while I might be willing to risk my life to accomplish that, I wanted to be the one making the choice.
17
I was getting tired of travel in general and airstrips in particular. The one in Indiana was nice, clean, and pretty much indistinguishable from the ones in California, Texas, and Florida. Once again I watched the bags while Rahim put security spells on the plane. Then we hiked over to the parking lot where a silver Honda was waiting. I wasn’t surprised by Rahim’s choice of ride. It was small and practical, but probably fairly comfortable.
Because he’d left it parked right in the open, Rahim got to stand around while I checked for mundane physical threats like bombs and the like. Then I got to stand around while he released all the magical protections on the vehicle. He minded waiting. I didn’t. Because when he was fully occupied, working mojo on the car, he wasn’t able to spare attention for me. I took full advantage of the freedom.
Calling to mind the image of my business partner looking frustrated and worried, I reached out. It was harder than usual to contact her, but at last the connection with Dawna clicked into place. I spoke mentally as quickly as I could, in case Rahim figured out what was happening and shut me down.
Dawna, it’s me. I may only have a minute or two. Tell Kevin and Bubba I’m going to Rahim’s office at the University of Notre Dame. They need to get to me ASAP.
They’re on their way now—they caught the first flight they could.
Rahim wants to use me as a link to Hasan in some ceremony.
Don’t do it! You can’t trust him.
I know. I know. But I need Hasan out of my head soonest.
We’ll find another way. I don’t trust Rahim.
Neither do I.
Keeping an eye on Rahim, I knew I didn’t have much more time and I wanted to get in touch with Bruno. A lot had happened in the last couple of days and I knew he had to be seriously worried about me, just as I was worried about him and his mother. So I ended the conversation with Dawna and concentrated on my lover.
This time the connection snapped into place so quickly, it was almost painful. I saw his face as clearly as if he stood right in front of me. His eyes were dark with worry, his body poised as if he’d been pacing. He probably had. He does that when he’s upset.
Celia! Thank God! Are you all right? How did the meeting with the feds go? Where are you? Did you get my message? He fired questions at me faster than I could possibly answer them, even mentally.
I’m fine, I assured him. It was even mostly true. The meeting went sideways, but they’re not charging me. I’m back on the case and I’m in Indiana.
What the hell is in Indiana?
Rahim’s office. He’s lost the backing of most of his family because of the way things went in Florida, so he has to get some things from his office here. He says he has a plan.
You don’t sound very sure about this.
I’m not. I don’t trust him. I think he’s the only one who can trap Hasan, and I owe him my life … but …
Trust your instincts. If you think he’s up to something, he probably is. Are you okay? Indiana’s a helluva long way from the ocean.
Well, it’s not great. But I think I’ll be okay. I sighed. There was one more thing I had to tell Bruno that I knew he wasn’t going to like. The meeting with the feds was interrupted when a demon tried to manifest.
How was that possible? Did somebody summon it?
No, which makes no sense. It tried to come through a weak spot in reality. We sealed the hole with holy water from my One-Shots, but it was a really close call. I added, Bruno, it was a major demon.
Ah. I think I may know what happened. I’ll have to do a little research to be sure. In the meantime, Celie, you need to be more careful. A demon and an ifrit is a bit much, even for you.
Tell me about it! I paused, taking a deep breath. How’s your mom doing?
A little bit better, actually. She regained consciousness for a while yesterday, even managed to say a couple of words. He sighed. We all know it’s only a matter of time, and the doctors have her pretty heavily sedated, but at least she’s not in any pain.
I’m glad for that. Are you doing okay?
Not really, he admitted. There’s a lot going on. Sal’s dealing with some bad business, on top of the usual family stuff.
Bruno’s family is big, close, and has more past issues than National Geographic. I wasn’t surprised he was having to deal with “stuff” in addition to his mom’s illness.
I love you, I told him. I miss you so bad.
I love you too. Did Dawna give you my message?
What message?
He swore, th
en said, Sal heard through the grapevine there’s been a high-money hit contracted on you. It got picked up by a couple that usually works out of Europe. They’re real pros. You need to be careful.
My thoughts about that were colorful to say the least. The vision had been a warning. Pradeep really was trying to kill me. Why?
Then it hit me, and I felt like an absolute idiot for not seeing it sooner.
If I died, Hasan could take over my body, just like he’d done on the beach, but only for a few minutes. But I’m an abomination. I’m not fully alive any more, even though I’m breathing and have a heartbeat. Which might mean that so long as I’m not fully dead either he could inhabit me for as long as he wanted. Why he’d want to, I had no clue. Still, I was betting there was a reason—it was the only thing that made sense.
I had to fight not to throw up, I was that horrified and sickened by my thoughts. But that would explain why Hasan was so determined to keep me alive—and why Pradeep had been furious with Rahim for reviving me.
My connection with Bruno was severed as neatly and abruptly as a surgeon cuts flesh. In my head, instead of my lover’s voice, I heard Hasan.
Ah, so you’ve figured it out. But that doesn’t change anything.
Why do you need a body?
You’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, do be careful. I’d prefer my vehicle didn’t sustain any unnecessary damage.
By the time I’d finished my mental swearing, Rahim had finished with the car. The absolute instant he wasn’t working other magic a blank white wall of mental shielding slammed into place around me. While it was a relief to end the contact with Hasan, I didn’t like the fact that Rahim was high-handedly interfering in my communications.
“Hey!” I glared at Rahim.
“You are on duty. I need your full attention.”
He wasn’t wrong, but I was pretty damned sure that wasn’t why he’d cut me off. Saying so wouldn’t be productive or diplomatic, so I remained silent and on guard while Rahim stowed my suitcase and my black duffel along with his own duffel and his medical bag. I guarded him until he was in the car, then walked around to join him—all the while very obviously scanning the area for outside threats.
The drive from the airstrip to the campus was quite pretty. The weather was cool and crisp, the sky a cloudless, china blue. A gentle breeze fluttered leaves that were all the brilliant colors autumn in the Midwest has to offer. Rahim stopped at a PharMart that had gas pumps to fuel up the Honda, and reluctantly agreed to go inside with me so I could pick up some sunscreen and quick nutrition in the form of baby food. I’d had a diet shake on the plane, but that had only taken the edge off my hunger. A tube of sweet-potato/applesauce mix, combined with a little tub of turkey puree, washed down with a can of soda, and I was good to go. While I ate, I tried to use my telepathy to contact Bruno and Dawna and got nada. Just what I’d expected, but unhappy news nonetheless.
We drove from PharMart straight to Rahim’s office.
Like most universities, Notre Dame has a problem with parking. There’s not enough of it. It was four in the afternoon, so you’d think that there’d be less of a problem. You’d be wrong. Rahim had a faculty sticker, so he could go into any of the reserved faculty lots. But the covered parking lot was full. So was the open lot closest to his office building. As he circled around, looking for a spot, I slathered every bit of exposed skin with sunscreen. When we finally did find a place to park I was able to walk with him to the building without burning … much.
The Magic and Metaphysics Department was housed in Richards Hall. It was a huge, beautiful Redbrick building with big white columns and large windows with white trim and black shutters. Passing through the halls, I found out just how popular Rahim was. Students, faculty, and staff all waved, and more than a few tried to stop him to talk about how glad they were he was okay after “that thing in Florida.”
Rahim was pleasant and polite, but firm, keeping us moving forward until we reached the central staircase. The three flights of stairs we climbed were easily as steep as the ones in my old office, but both of us arrived at the top in good time and not the least bit out of breath.
The wards on the building itself hadn’t bothered me much. The ones on Rahim’s office door were an education in agony.
“Ow, oh, ow.” I automatically followed him into his office. That was a mistake. I found myself standing just inside Rahim’s not terribly large and hideously cluttered professorial office with tears streaming down my face. “Are those wards even legal?”
“They’re sub-lethal,” Rahim assured me.
“Barely.”
He didn’t argue. “They are only triggered if someone actually enters the doorway. So long as my office is undisturbed, no one is harmed. It’s a new process, one I devised myself. The magic affects all of the surface nerves of the body, aggravating the pain centers. It’s keyed to recognize my bloodline. Anyone else gets the full treatment.”
I suspect the glare I gave him was less than effective, what with all the crying I was doing.
“I can’t risk the artifacts I have stored here. Everyone in the department knows that my office has strong protections.” He sounded a little defensive. “Why don’t you wait out in the hall? I won’t be long.”
I didn’t really trust him, but I was useless inside that room. The second I stepped back over the threshold, the pain eased. “How do you meet with students?” I asked as I wiped tears from my face and scanned the hall for threats. There were none that I could see, so I watched Rahim through the doorway, staying alert to my surroundings. The walls were thin enough that bits of several nearby conversations would have been audible even without my enhanced hearing.
“I use one of the small conference rooms on the first floor for office hours and appointments.” He bent down to pull open a cabinet door, revealing a small safe. He turned his body slightly, so I couldn’t see what he was doing as he opened the safe, but I suspected that was due to an excess of caution. I was pretty sure that, like my own safe, Rahim’s had magical and bio-keyed controls rather than a mundane lock. I wouldn’t have been able to break into it even if I’d wanted to. And why would I want to?
Setting his bag of magical gear down nearby, he flipped it open. While I watched he transferred several items from the safe to the case, beginning with Hasan’s djinn jar and a large gem, both of which he set carefully into his bag. Next came an antique knife and a small, worn, leather-bound book. Once all had been loaded, he snapped the bag shut, then closed the safe and the cabinet door.
I moved aside as Rahim stepped out of the office, carrying the medical bag. He pulled the door closed and reset the wards with one hand.
“We’ll use the staff spell room for the working,” he said. “It’s close at hand.”
“We’re doing this now? Right now?”
“I don’t dare waste time. Every moment we wait gives Hasan more of an advantage.”
When he put it that way, it sounded oh so reasonable. I was beginning to think that perhaps he specialized in that—perfect rationalizations for any occasion.
Perhaps I was misjudging him, but I didn’t think so. First, there was the whole thing with Rahim blocking my siren ability; then there was Hasan’s warning; and finally, the professor’s body language was just a teeny bit off. I couldn’t have said exactly what the tells were—it was too subtle for that. But he was not acting and moving the way he had the other day. Pradeep might be the one who had hired the assassins, but Rahim was up to something—something involving yours truly. I really, really, wished I felt less mentally foggy. I needed to be at my best right now and I just wasn’t.
Rahim and I took the elevator down to the first floor in silence almost as absolute as that of a spell disk. We walked in similar silence down a hall, through an open area divided into cubicles and rimmed with copiers and other shared office equipment. The secretarial staff smiled and greeted him by name, looking up from whatever end-of-the-day tasks they were trying to complete. He
smiled in acknowledgment, but didn’t slow his pace, hurrying around a corner and down another hallway, this one lined with classrooms, until we finally arrived at a pair of metal double doors with a sensor lock similar to the one on my safe.
When Rahim placed his palm against the reader, a small drawer sprang open to reveal a needlelike protrusion. Without hesitation, Rahim jabbed his finger, drawing blood. Only after the machine had a chance to confirm his identity did I hear the locks click open.
We stepped through the double doors into a room that was awash with magic, absolutely beautiful, and so sunny I could feel my skin start to heat the instant I cleared the doorway.
The space was the size of a large auditorium, and opened up the full five floors of the building to a skylight that took up the entire ceiling. The floor was polished hardwood stained a dark mahogany and polished to a warm glow that matched the paneled walls, on which elegant Art Deco light fixtures were spaced at regular intervals. The room’s understated elegance was completely overwhelmed by the casting circle affixed to the floor. It was huge, the biggest active circle I’d ever seen.
The outer edge was gold, the center six inches silver, and the inner edge, copper. The metal was deeply etched with runes in various languages and from assorted schools of magic, and gems had been set in its surface at regular intervals. They were angled to catch the light, sending forth flares of color that formed patterns in the air of the room.
“I can’t stay in here without better sunscreen.” Since it was fall, and this was Indiana, there hadn’t been much summer stock left on the shelves. The SPF 15 that had gotten me from the car to the office building wouldn’t be up to protecting me from prolonged exposure to the light in this room.
“Hang on a second,” Rahim said. Setting down the medical bag, he closed the doors, then hurried across the room to a control panel set into the far wall. As he did, I discreetly pulled the recorder from my pocket and set it on the floor in a shadowed area just inside the door. As cover, I slipped off my shoe, pretending to shake a stone out of it before sliding it back on.
