by Cat Adams
I shuddered at the realization that my vampire nature was starting to rise to the hunt.
No. Absolutely not.
Closing my eyes, I took deep, slow breaths while counting to one hundred. When I heard movement I opened my eyes long enough to shuffle forward with the group. Two more people in front of me. I could make it. Just a couple more minutes.
A teenager finished buying condoms. It was the old woman’s turn.
She had coupons—expired coupons—and was counting up change to make the price, in pennies.
I found myself growling in irritation. That startled and frightened both the woman and the checker. I could hear their breathing go shallow, their pulses quickening.
Saliva filled my mouth. I was so hungry. I took a deep breath: in, three count, out. Slowly. Then I grabbed the biggest, gaudiest holy item from the display at the checkout. See folks, no vampires here. I’m just a little ol’ human with a pale complexion. Nothing to worry about. I’d have forced a smile, but I could tell my fangs were down.
My clutching the giant holy object settled the two of them a little, but not much. Nobody tried to stake me or spray me with holy water, but they sure as hell didn’t dawdle.
Finally the old woman paid. The checker sped me through the process and I swiped my card, grabbed my bag, and strode briskly to the exit. As I stepped through the sliding glass doors, the sunset hit me like a club. My inner bat tried to rise full out, teeth down, skin glowing, eyes shifting to hyperfocus. My own pulse raced as I smelled sweet fear drifting toward me on the light breeze. The old woman was trying not to stare at me as she loaded her purchases into the back of a battered midsized sedan a row or two away. I could still get her. Easy.
The window of a nearby car rolled partly down.
“Boss … Celia.”
I turned at the sound of my name and saw a familiar face, lined deeply with worry.
Bubba. It was Bubba, and he was my friend. He was not food. People were not food.
The sight of Bubba’s concern brought me to myself a little: enough that I could reach into one of the bags looped over my wrist. I pulled out one of the little glass jars of baby food and twisted off the cap without even trying to read what I’d be eating. Anything would help, and I wouldn’t have really seen it anyway. I was crying.
That, more than the pureed peaches I was swallowing, drove the bat off. Emotions disgust and confuse the vampire. It has about as much understanding of friendship as I do of nuclear physics, and to it, pain is something to be dealt, not endured.
When I could trust myself, I walked over to the rental car. The glow of my skin had faded enough that I looked almost normal—normal enough that Bubba was willing to unlock the doors and let me climb in with him.
He drove off as I strapped myself in—and just in time, too. Someone had called the cops. They passed us going down the main drag, lights flashing, but sans siren.
“You okay?” Bubba asked.
I didn’t look at him. I didn’t dare. Instead, I focused completely on the food I’d bought.
“Yeah, I’m jusssst ducky,” I lied. I so wasn’t. But that didn’t matter. Life wasn’t going to stop to give me time for a little breakdown. So I needed to suck it up … change that … pull myself together. “I jussst need to eat, maybe take a quick nap. It’s been a long day.” I was still lisping around my fangs—not good.
“I get that. Eat. Sleep. I’ve got GPS, I can get us there.”
“Fine,” I said as I dug a chocolate nutrition shake out of one of the PharMart bags and chugged it. Then I took a swig of liquid vitamins, followed by a jar of pureed turkey and yams. Only when I was full enough to relax did I glance at him. “Thanks, Bubba.” No hint of a lisp that time. Yippee.
“De nada. Now sleep.”
“Okay, but wake me up in an hour. I need to make some calls.” I closed my eyes and let the movement of the car and the sounds of the road lull me to slumber.
I dreamed of angels and demons.
Seriously.
I was floating in the vacuum of space, the universe stretched out before me in a shimmering carpet, colorful jewels scattered on midnight velvet. I knew there were other universes, but I couldn’t see them. My whole attention was caught by the scene before me. Michael the archangel was battling a demon in the form of a bat-winged, multi-headed serpent. Its claws raked at his armor; his blows rained down on its scaly hide. With each sweep of the creature’s tail stars were swept from the sky; the wind from his wings sent meteors sailing off into space.
It was breathtaking and awe-inspiring. The sheer breadth of the titanic battle was almost impossible to fathom, spanning, as it did, not just three dimensions, but five or more. For they fought in more than the three dimensions of normal reality: on the ethereal plane, and through time.
Far, far in the distance I glimpsed a familiar configuration of planets. Our solar system was tiny, and just one of an uncountable number of habitable systems.
It felt like maybe ten seconds later that I heard Bubba say my name.
“Celia. Celia.” A strong hand shook my shoulder. I blinked stupidly up at Bubba, trying to gather my wits.
“Time to get up, boss.”
I clung to the remnants of the dream. It was important. I knew it. But why?
“Right.” I swallowed a little convulsively. My mouth was dry. I’d probably been snoring. Glancing at the read-out on the dash I saw that I’d slept longer than an hour, closer to two. Looking around, I saw that we were in one of the big truck stops on the highway near O’Hare. It was a busy place, well lit, and close enough to the road that I could hear the traffic whooshing past. “You were supposed to wake me in an hour,” I scolded him.
“You needed your rest. It’s harder for you to control your vamp side when you’re tired.”
I couldn’t argue with that, so I didn’t bother trying. “I’m going inside to use the bathroom, change, and get a soda. You want anything?”
“Yeah, grab me some black coffee,” he answered.
“Got it.” I rummaged around on the floorboards until I found the bags I wanted, then climbed out of the car and shambled across the lot and through the glass doors marked with tape that showed feet and inches. I kept my mouth shut and made sure the holy items I wore were really, really obvious. There was no point in inviting trouble.
The bathroom was in the back of the store. I used the facilities, then changed into clean underwear, socks, and a new T-shirt before pulling my suit pants and jacket back on. That done, I took a minute or two to wash my face in the sink. I looked bad. My hair was a wreck, and the makeup I’d started the day with was long gone, leaving me looking vampire white.
Glancing down at my watch I saw that time was flying by, despite the fact that I was so not having fun. And I still needed a better plan than just walking into the cavern and letting Hasan take me over. I’d slept through a good chunk of research and planning time. But I hadn’t been in any shape to think or plan, not with my bat attempting to take over.
Drying off, I took a minute to brush my teeth and comb my hair. I hadn’t thought to buy makeup at PharMart, so I went without.
By the time I was finished, I looked better; not good, but better.
I went back into the main part of the store and grabbed coffee for Bubba and soda for myself before getting in line at the checkout. Attached to the ceiling above the Lotto machine was a pair of black-and-white monitors that displayed a patchwork of images from the various security cameras around the truck stop.
One display showed the perimeter of the parking lot. If I’d blinked, I would have missed the blur of motion caused by a pair of dark figures moving at vampire speed. They hadn’t crossed onto the property. Yet. And they might not, if the magical perimeter around the edge still had enough charge. If it didn’t …
Bubba, keep an eye out. There are bats just outside the perimeter.
The man in front of me took his change from the clerk and shambled out to a waiting truck with his six-pack
of Bud and pack of cigarettes.
I moved up to pay. “Is the charge on your perimeter still good?”
The clerk blinked at me a little stupidly. He was in his late fifties, gray hair, gray eyes, and gray skin. He looked tired, like he’d been on shift for a while. He also might not have been the brightest bulb in the display.
“Our perimeter is checked regularly. Why?”
Checked is not the same thing as charged, but most civilians don’t realize the difference.
“I thought I saw vampires moving around outside.”
“You must have been mistaken.” He sounded bored or tired, maybe both. “We’re only five minutes away from O’Hare. This close to the airport we’re under regular patrol.”
I damned well hadn’t been mistaken, but I didn’t want to argue. And if he was telling the truth about the patrol, the police would be here shortly to take care of it. So I paid for my drinks and headed for the car, first making a short detour to make sure that there was enough charge in the perimeter to last the night. Just in case.
“Did you see them?” I passed Bubba his coffee before taking my seat and fastening my safety belt.
“Nope. But I decided to stay in the car just in case.” He glanced at the clock. “We made good time getting here. You’ve got time to make your calls.” He passed me his cell phone, fully charged.
I pondered for a whole minute who to call first. The dream was still bothering me. My subconscious was trying to tell me something. But what?
When in doubt, call an expert. I dialed El Jefe’s number from memory. He answered on the first ring.
“Hi. It’s me.”
“Hello, Celia. How can I help?”
“You know what’s going on?”
“Dawna and Kevin both called and brought me up to speed.”
Good. I didn’t have to brief him from scratch. And he’d gotten the warning. Yay. Here’s hoping everybody else had too.
“What do demons want?”
There was a long pause. Apparently my question wasn’t one he’d been expecting.
“Angels and demons have been at war since the beginning of time, if not before.”
“Right. And our planet is just one of God knows how many inhabitable planets in countless solar systems.”
“Yes.”
“So, why our planet? What do we matter? I mean, it matters to us. We live here. But what difference does it make to them? There have been prophets, and a messiah, and angels and demons fight here all the time. Why?”
“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
“I’m pretty sure there’s a major demon behind the theft of the ifrit. I need to know what he wants. I feel like we’re missing something. I’m flailing around here and I need more information. What could an ifrit do that a demon can’t?”
Demons are hideously powerful, plus they have the ability to influence and corrupt humans. Those powers combined gave them seemingly unlimited possibilities for mayhem. So why would they need an ifrit?
Warren was silent on the other end of the phone. I could sense that he was pondering my questions.
I continued, “It all fits together. All of it: the attack at the Needle, the one at the Zoo. And this.”
Warren knew what I was referring to. The Zoo had been a prison for magical beings, werewolves mostly, although a few other things had been housed there. The place had become infested with demons. I’d had to rescue Kevin from there, and it was his time there, more than his work with the Company or any other trauma, that had caused his PTSD.
When Warren finally spoke, his voice sounded tentative, like he was still thinking his way through everything. “There were demons at the battles at the node. And there was a demon rift at the Zoo. And there’s a demon here. It does seem like it should all tie together.
“But I don’t know how.”
Well, hell. I tried to stifle my disappointment. After all, Warren is only human. And now that I’d brought it up, I knew he’d keep working at it. That was his nature. He hated unanswered questions … and he had access to some of the greatest minds in the world.
“Next question,” I said.
“Shoot.”
“How can a demon appear in a place if it hasn’t been summoned?”
“A singularity would have to be formed.”
I muttered under my breath, something to the effect of, “Why the hell don’t they teach you these things when you’re getting your degree?” I didn’t expect him to answer, but he did.
“There’s only so much time, Celia, and it’s important to cover the basics. Rarities and more esoteric items are hardly likely to be encountered by your average student.
“If a demon has been summoned enough times, it is very nearly able to make a permanent manifestation; and if it is being summoned at the precise moment that a soul is being taken into hell, a soul that that particular demon has had personal interactions with, there is an infinitesimal chance that that individual demon can take advantage of the opening. If he is aware of it and moves quickly enough. Although, frankly, since they can alter time, I suppose the latter is relative. I take it you ran into one?”
“Started to. We sealed the opening with holy water before he could get through.”
“That’s my girl,” he said with an audible smile in his voice. “I’m very proud of you, Celia.”
“Thanks.” Warren doesn’t give praise often. It meant a lot to me to hear it.
“Any more questions?”
“Just two. First, why would an ifrit need the use of a physical body for more than the couple of minutes they get by possessing a corpse?”
“Is that what he wants? Your body?” Warren did his best to sound professional and not alarmed, and failed miserably. I mean, normally he is a baritone and his voice does not squeak like Mickey Mouse’s.
“Appears to be.”
“Oh, Celia.”
“Any ideas?”
“No, but we’ll look into it. What was your second question?”
“I thought you needed to be a really talented mage to handle node magic.”
“You should. Yes.”
“Matty isn’t ranked that high.”
“No,” Warren admitted, “he isn’t. Which was why the church gave him dispensation to marry Emma. They, and he, fully expected that he would die that night.”
“Why didn’t he?”
“I only have a theory.”
“Give it to me.”
“He’s related by blood to Isabella and Bruno. They both have power to spare. I can’t be sure, but I’m betting that his mother used her control of the magic to protect her sons, taking more of the burden onto herself. That would explain why she’s suffered such severe ill effects, even though she’d worked node magic previously without any problem.”
That pretty much confirmed my own suspicions. Isabella would do anything to protect her Bruno and Matty. I wondered if they knew, or guessed, what she’d done. She’d never tell them, but they’re both smart men.
“Any other questions about the ifrit?”
“Gordon briefed my team earlier. Is there anything he didn’t tell us?”
Warren chuckled. “Just that we figured out that the Guardians are the only ones capable of trapping and disarming an ifrit—because they have djinn ancestors in their bloodlines.”
Ah, that explained a lot of things that I’d noticed about Rahim, and Abha’s comment as well.
“Look, Hasan threatened to slaughter everyone I care about. You need to get to safety. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” My voice cracked a little when I said that last.
“Oh, Celia.” Warren’s voice softened. “Be careful. When you get back and this is all over, we’ll go to dinner at La Cocina. My treat.”
“I’d like that.” My voice was a little raspy, the scenery outside the car window a blur. In the driver’s seat, Bubba was shaking his head in wry amusement. Apparently big, tough, bodyguard types aren’t supposed to get all mushy in the clutch. “I gotta go.
Bye.”
“Bye.”
I tucked the phone into a little cubbyhole in the dashboard and sat back, closing my eyes.
“You are such a wuss,” Bubba teased.
He was trying to cheer me up with humor. It worked. I found myself smiling in spite of myself. I mean, yeah, he was managing me, but he knew me well enough that he was doing a good job of it. “Oh, bite me.”
He laughed and started the car.
The bad guys were trying to kill me. The Patels wanted me dead to the point of hiring assassins. The ifrit wanted to possess me. Oh, and there was a demon who wanted me dead, so another demon could torment me for eternity.
I’ve been in tough places more than once. But this was looking worse than anything I’d seen in a while. I was scared, and coming up blank as to how to stop the all-powerful and seriously evil genie from destroying everyone and everything I loved.
So I spent about a minute and a half (which was all the time I could afford) throwing myself a nice little pity party while Bubba took us back onto the highway and then off at the O’Hare exit. Then I took a deep, steadying breath and focused my mind on the image of Rahim Patel.
Hello, Rahim.
Celia. His mental voice was cautious and he didn’t sound thrilled to be hearing from me. No big surprise there. Hell, if I had any choice, he’d be one of the last two people I contacted. But beggars, choosers, and all that happy crap.
Can Hasan hear this conversation? I’m wearing a sujay.
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but his thoughts had a distinctly sour tone.
No. Bitterness there. Lots of it.
Good. Did you absorb enough energy from the vosta to get back on your feet?
How did you know—
I hadn’t known, I’d guessed, though his reaction confirmed it. If he was the Guardian and had djinn blood, it would make sense that he might be able to absorb magic like a djinn—magic that would enhance his healing abilities, much like my vampire nature improved mine. A Mrs. Patel had bought a very powerful vosta from the DeLuca’s for a life-or-death matter. It could have been someone else. But my bet had been Abha. She had, after all, said she planned to “revive” Rahim, although she hadn’t mentioned how. No doubt she’d given the vosta to her husband, who could use its power to heal himself.
