by Judy Teel
His statement about caring for me kept rolling around in my head like a music loop. I liked him; that was easy to admit. I was definitely attracted to him, which I didn't mind acknowledging either. I mean, come on, the guy was gorgeous. I'd have to be blind not to notice.
The more-than-liking part I was almost able to come to grips with, at least in a marginal kind of scientific way. He was a good match for me as far as having a working partner went. When I was in the mood to be honest with myself, I could almost accept that I enjoyed how he stood up to me, and that he didn't seem to mind that I wasn't all about rainbows and unicorns and happy endings.
If I was really feeling truthful, I might even concede that I'd enjoyed dancing with him and that his kiss had taken me out of myself and into a world of sensations like I'd never felt before, not even at Christmas. Thanks to the Cupid Spell, that one night with Cooper was more of a blur than an experience. In all the ways that mattered, it was as if it had never happened and we were starting from zero.
But did I want to start at all?
I shook my head and crumpled my empty paper coffee cup in my fist. Who was I fooling? I already had. I'd let him kiss me, really kiss me. Now I had to deal.
Stupidity was so annoyingly inconvenient.
Standing up, I tossed my cup into the trashcan and headed across the street. I stayed alert as I passed the shop and continued along the sidewalk past several more stores. It wouldn't help anything to lead Bellmonte's goons straight to Falcon. The kid didn't deserve that, and they didn't deserve to know that resources like him existed.
Snobbery was one of the more useful vamp traits, and I never hesitated to use it to my advantage. They were so full of themselves they never saw humans as anything but tools or food. The existence of a genius like Falcon would never even occur to them.
After a block, I ducked down a side street and doubled back, arriving at the loading entrance of Magical Gadgets and Bits. Falcon was just getting his keys out.
"I hope you know that you owe me for this," he said. There were dark circles under his light gray eyes and his rust-colored hair was a spiky mess except for the left side where it was flat. But despite his obvious lack of sleep, his eyes sparkled with excitement.
"You found something?" I asked.
"Not just about those questions you sent me." He unlocked the door and we stepped into the cluttered storage area.
I noticed that he carefully secured the door behind us. "You expecting trouble?"
"After what I've found out, I don't know what to expect."
He flipped on the light switch and took down a circular, gold-colored amulet hanging from a leather cord on a shelf by the door. Strange lettering and engravings covered both sides and they seemed to writhe and shift as the amulet spun, catching the light of the overhead bulb.
He hung the leather cord over a hook above the door and the amulet clanked against the thick metal as it settled itself. I moved closer to get a better look.
"Don't touch it, you won't like the results. Stops the heart of anyone it's not tuned to."
I raised an eyebrow. "Looks like nothing but a pretty necklace to me."
"Uncle Mark brought it back from Mexico. Said it was an Aztec protection something-or-other."
"If you say so." I turned away from the amulet and followed him into the main part of the store. "What do you have for me?"
"First of all, those records you asked me to track down? Not easy." He went behind the counter and pulled out his laptop. "The New York registry was messed up after the attacks. Didn't really get organized again until fairly recently."
"But that didn't stop you."
"Nope." His fingers flew over the keyboard, and he turned the computer around to face me. "Recognize anyone?"
An ID picture of Marla was on one side and Kathy on the other, but the names didn't go with the face. "This isn't right. Marla's African-American and is nineteen. Kathy's white and twenty-four." Understanding hit me. "They switched identities?"
Falcon grinned at me. "Brilliant isn't it?"
"Why would they want to do that? As Marla, the real Kathy would be a minor and lose her job in the sex solicitation zones."
Falcon leaned on the counter and touched the screen with his finger, bringing up another report. "She wanted to go back to school."
"Don't tell me. Professor Tasson's International School of Magic."
"Nope. High School."
"Seriously?" I asked, surprised.
"She'd never graduated. I guess that bugged her. As a supposed teenager, she could transfer and finish her senior year. Meanwhile," Falcon touched another tab, bringing up a third report, "As Kathy, at that time seventeen-year-old Marla applied to the bogus magic school. But only after being turned down by the Brooklyn coven run by...." He angled the computer so he could read the screen. "Someone named Laiyla Billings."
My stomach went cold. "Where does the bartender and the boyfriend fit into all this?"
"No idea. What bartender and boyfriend?"
I turned the computer back around and studied the reports, switching between them, trying to take it all in. Younger versions of both women stared back at me.
Marla—that is—Kathy, had kept her dark hair in long, micro braids when she was twenty-one, but otherwise her exotic features and coffee-and-cream skin looked the same and young enough to pass for sixteen.
Kathy—that is Marla—used to have curly blonde hair instead of brown and was probably about twenty pounds lighter when she was younger. Studying her blue eyes, I remembered all the pouting and bravado and wondered how I'd ever thought she was twenty-four.
My head started aching. "This is incredible."
"I know!" Falcon said, glowing with triumph.
"I wish I understood what it meant."
"It gets better." He minimized the reports, clicked on a folder and keyed in a password. "Check this out."
The screen filled with an article from some obscure archeology college in Budapest. "These are some of the symbols left at the murder scenes," I said, pointing to one of the pictures in the article.
"Apparently in the 1920s," Falcon said, "a group of archeologists discovered some kind of ancient cult temple in Indonesia. The mythology shown in the drawings and inscriptions, which they couldn't directly translate, suggested that on the Summer Solstice in the year of the eight-headed bull, their god would be born into the world to remake it in his own image."
"Today's the Summer Solstice. But what's an eight-headed bull?"
Falcon shrugged. "Other than this being the year of the Ox, I have no clue. But according to the artwork found at the site,..." he started reading from the website again, "'it was determined that to manifest the god, three ancient races must die within five and appease the sacred king'." He glanced at me. "As far as they could figure out, there were five ancient kings."
"It's also been five days since the first killing," I said, thinking about Danny's body and everything that had happened since.
"There's more." He scrolled through the article. "'With the final sacrifice, the doors to between shall weaken'—whatever that means. But dig this—'when the final offering of devotion is made'—bam!"
I flinched and then narrowed my eyes at him. "Is that necessary?"
"Oh, yeah. And then bam! The doors to between open and this god dude comes through. Check out the symbol for his name."
He zoomed in on a picture of a cracked wall with odd markings all over it. My heart nearly stopped. There was the sun with the fancy Z over top of it. I also recognized some of the other scribblings from the circles we'd found at each murder site.
"The science guys were hoping to prove they'd found the original pagan belief system of the region, but they met with a lot of resistance and eventually the dig was shut down." Falcon smiled benignly at me.
"Someone believes in it."
"Beats me."
"The question is, who?"
His eyes went suddenly wide and I tensed. "How did you—"
She moved as fast as a vamp, just a blur of color as she sprang from the doorway to the storage room and jabbed a hypodermic needle into the side of my neck. I tried to draw my gun to get off a shot, but it was too late. My body had already stopped listening.
Kathy, or actually the real Marla's face swam in front of me as my vision blurred. I stumbled, knocking over a display of good luck charms by the counter as an explosion of pleasure rocked through my body. "What?..." I gasped, fighting to stay conscious under the assault.
Marla smiled and took out another syringe. "Fantastic, isn't it?" She stalked toward Falcon, who stood rooted to the spot, shock and horror on his pale face.
He held up his hands. "Don't do this, man. Please."
"That's what they all said," the real Marla purred.
Falcon grabbed a small carved dragon off the counter, threw it at her and missed. Smiling, she darted at him in a blur of movement and jabbed the needle into his upper arm.
Darkness edged my vision as a warm, luxurious numbness crept over me. My legs buckled.
The last thing I saw was Falcon sinking down behind the counter.
CHAPTER NINE
When I came to, I was laying on my back on rough stone, gazing at the roof of a cave. Shadows danced and sparred among the cracks and crevices in the low, soft light of dozens of candles. I pulled in a chest full of musty, earthy air and slowly sat up.
My weapons, shirt, jeans and boots were gone. I wore a long, white robe which looked like something an angel in a Christmas pageant might wear. Fabulous. Nothing like being turned into a sacrificial cliché to make a girl's day. At least I still had my underwear on.
I tried to get to my feet, but the candles on the floor and ledges spun around me like a merry-go-round. Nausea rolled up into my throat worse than it had after I was attacked at Morrocroft.
A cold sweat broke out across my skin. I clenched my teeth to stop from getting sick and concentrated on keeping my breathing steady. After a moment, the feeling receded and I dared to open my eyes again.
Around me an eight foot circle of symbols like the ones at all the murder sites had been drawn onto the stone using what was probably blood. Outside that and off to the side was a ring of white powder, slightly larger than the others had been.
On the back of the cave to my left, a two-foot high sunburst and the cursive Z symbol of the ancient Indonesian god had also been painted in blood. The vamp tooth, practitioner star and half moon Were symbols were presented around it at even intervals. What we'd suspected at the community center now looked to be true. The shapes represented the kills so far.
Three ancient races must die within five, wasn't that what Falcon had uncovered? A chill ran over me, and I wondered exactly how I fit into that formula.
A rustle of sound like velvet on stone came from the front of the cave. Without thinking, I rolled into a crouch, ready to defend myself. The dizziness from the after affects of the drug slammed into me and I toppled over, nausea immobilizing me for a moment.
"Not used to the finer things, I see," a woman's voice said from a few yards away. "Don't worry. The VR will finish metabolizing in the next few minutes. You'll regain your usual tenacity just in time to participate in the end of your life."
"Marla," I gasped, carefully rolling my head to the side so I could see her.
"So you figured that out. Not soon enough, but good for you." She stood near the dark, narrow cave entrance pouring vials of blood into a polished gold goblet. She'd changed from the shorts and white halter top she'd had on at Falcon's into a dark purple dress with a plunging neckline and a skirt that brushed the floor. The symbol of the Indonesian god had been embroidered in gold thread in the center of the bodice.
"Kind of late for prom isn't it?" I asked, bracing my hand on the stone floor and pushing myself up.
"But not for a royal marriage." She uncapped the sixth and final vial and poured the nearly black liquid into the cup.
"The last of Danny's blood?" I asked.
"And my ticket to finally getting what's rightfully mine." Gathering up the containers, she carefully set each one into a small black duffle bag that she'd placed next to the entrance. As she pulled back the edges, I noticed the handle of my gun.
"What else have you figured out?" she asked in a conversational tone.
"You're dabbling in some serious crap." I considered the distance to the duffle bag. If I could get to my gun, I might have a chance to stop her.
"Not really. I'm making my dreams come true," she countered.
I got up carefully, swayed a bit, but managed to stay upright. The coolness of the stone seeped into my bare feet and another chill ran over me.
She tossed her curly brown hair over her shoulder. "Aren't you going to ask what my dreams are?"
Sweeping my gaze around the small cave, I made a quick assessment of what I had to work with. I estimated the area to be about twenty-five feet long and maybe fifteen feet wide. Big enough for a fight, which was a plus. Even better, unless there was some kind of weapon hidden under her dress, the newly revealed Marla was unarmed. "Why? I don't care."
Lifting her chin, she gave me a haughty look. "Even when the answer has to do with how you're going to die?"
"I've seen your handiwork. At some point, you'll try to cut my throat."
She laughed. "Not me. My guardian can be very persuasive. You'll happily cut your own throat just like they all did."
"Except Laiyla," I said, struggling to hold back my anger. Tipping my hand by losing my temper wouldn't get me what I wanted.
"She was mean to me once, so I decided to make an exception. But she went willingly. Climbed the ladder without a peep and begged my guardian to kill her in the end."
I narrowed my eyes at her, fury boiling my blood. I forgot my promise to restrain myself. "You murdered four people," I ground out. "Danny. Keith—"
"He was a mistake," she interrupted. "I actually kind of liked him."
"Laiyla. Sean. You killed them all."
"No I didn't. They did exactly what they wanted to do. I only stood back and watched."
"Then you framed the real Kathy for the murders. Your friend."
"She was my friend. Until she wanted to come clean about the ID switch so she could marry her bartender with a clear conscience." The real Marla shrugged. "Framing her for the murders was the perfect way to teach her a lesson."
"Always more convenient if you can make a killing look like someone else did it," I muttered, my disgust deepening.
She shook her finger at me in a childish reprimand. "You have been very annoying, Addison. Kathy had told me about Danny's heritage, so I knew his blood would be powerful. The night you 'saved me', my plan was to lure him off and drain him. When two of his stupid friends tagged along, I decided to have a little extra fun playing the helpless human while I pulled Aedodra's strength into me. I couldn't wait to see their surprise when I ripped their heads off, but you had to interfere."
Surprise and fury tightened my throat. She'd meant to be there? Had planned to drain Danny all along? I ground my teeth. Bitch.
Putting her hands on her hips, she gave me one of her fake pouts. "In fact, you nearly spoiled everything. Twice! I was lucky I caught Danny at Kathy's and almost didn't get him in time, thanks to you. When you started nosing around Laiyla's, I realized that you had to go, but you had the nerve to kill the assassins I sent! That was very uncooperative of you."
"Sorry to disappoint." Without warning I charged at her—and hit an invisible ice-cold barrier that knocked me on my butt.
I slid across the stone a few feet and my back slammed into another invisible wall, knocking the air out of me. The real Marla's shrill laughter echoed around the cave like a flock of screeching parrots while I struggled through the momentary flash of pain.
"That never gets old," she chortled. "You paras are so arrogant. Always thinking that your superior str
ength will get you what you want."
I looked at the circle of symbols. "Enclosure spells don't work on humans," I wheezed.
Her eyes widened, sparkling with delight. "Despite everything, I like you, Addison. You're as full of false humility as I am." She sauntered across the cave and stopped a couple of feet from the edge of the circle. "I don't know exactly what you are, but I do know this." She leaned closer, dropping her voice to a dramatic whisper. "You're not human."
A level of fury that even surprised me surged into my chest and I launched myself at her again, hands outstretched. She jumped back with a squeal of surprise. Snarling at her, I stopped just short of the barrier and slammed my hands against it. Rubbing my cold palms across the cotton fabric of my robe, I glared at her.
"You're also apparently delicious," she added, studying me with interest. "Or at least your special brand of paranormal energy is. It worked out in the end that I wasn't able to get you out of my way. After sensing you at Laiyla's sacrifice, and then in the bar, my guardian and mentor was very insistent that you be the one that frees him to be with me." Her self-satisfied smile returned. "All's well that ends well."
I shifted my weight, casually sliding my right foot toward the symbols. If I could smudge one of them out, the spell might be broken. That had worked when I'd shot the pagan symbol before. Maybe it would work again. "Let me guess. We're waiting for just the right moment, and then I die some horrible death that brings something unpleasant into the world, do I have that right?"
"Gold star for you," Marla said. "Though 'something unpleasant' is pretty much a relative term. Unpleasant for everyone else, not for me. It'll be fantastic for me."
The tips of my toes hit the freezing barrier just a millimeter from the symbols. Frustration bit into my stomach. The only other possibility was to go up; how high did the prison wall reach?
