Demons in Disguise: The Divinicus Nex Chronicles: Book Three

by A and E Kirk

  As I approached, Natasha quietly asked Psyche, “What locker is it in?”

  Psyche took the paper from me. Studied it for a moment, then said, “One-seventeen. Use the blue bag. Now get to it, ladies. I’m counting on you.”

  “And I get an exclusive whenever the story breaks?” Mika said.

  Psyche patted her hand. “You have my solemn vow.”

  Uh-oh. “What story?”

  “No time, Lahey.” Natasha dragged me along into the girls’ locker room, Katie and Mika covering our flank.

  Behind us, Psyche said in a scolding tone, “Mr. Cacciatori, where do you think you are going?” I couldn’t hear his answer, but Psyche replied. “No, I need you here. In fact, you are going to be my partner and help me show everyone how it’s done. Come along.”

  Locker one-seventeen was in a back corner. The girls made short order of rifling through several plastic shopping bags, pulling clothes out of a blue one, and out of others, a multitude of cosmetics, beauty products, and styling tools.

  “Why are you guys doing this?” I asked.

  “We’re not allowed to discuss the mission,” Mika said.

  Katie giggled. “We’re like super spies.”

  “For extra credit mostly,” Natasha said, matter-of-factly. “Letters of recommendations to my top colleges, and several special privileges.” When Katie gave Natasha’s shoulder a shove, she smiled. “Okay, and it’s kinda fun.”

  “Plus,” Katie grinned, “you’re all right for a girl.”

  “And you’ll tell Matthias I helped you out, right?” Mika said hopefully.

  “Sure.” I couldn’t bear to tell her that helping me was the last way to get in his good graces.

  Natasha pulled a photo from one of the bags and adjusted her huge glasses. “Wait. This is the one?”

  The glossy photo was a shot of Cristiano’s Sicarius teammate Nitara wearing their team’s standard garb of tank top, cargo pants, and boots, and holding a semi-automatic pistol down by her hip. Her long braid swung through the air, sunlight glinting off the knives hanging at the end. Something dark smudged her face, its lovely features imbedded with a hard, grim expression as she calmly walked away from an exploding building. Behind her smoke billowed, debris shot through the air like missiles. She didn’t appear to notice.

  Katie looked over Natasha’s shoulder. “Ooh. She looks like an action star.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “She kinda is.”

  “Also looks like she’s kinda from India,” Natasha said with trepidation.

  “That is also correct,” I confirmed.

  Natasha looked at her watch and then at me. “Good thing I like a challenge.”

  Good thing.

  These gals proved relentless. And funny. We were actually having a blast when Cristiano somehow finally disengaged himself from Psyche and his adoring fans, and came knocking at the girls’ locker room door.

  “Hello? Aurora?”

  We all froze.

  Natasha whispered, “Katie, go send him away.”

  Katie shook her head. “I’m not sure I can say no to the Italian hot stuff.”

  We looked at Mika who cringed. “I know I can’t.”

  “Fine,” Natasha said. “Aurora stay here. You two, come with me.” They all went to the door. Natasha opened it a crack, keeping it effectively blocked, while Katie and Mika provided backup. “Aurora can’t talk to you right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Do you know what a period is?”

  “A punctuation mark. I am Italian, not illiterate.”

  “Not that kind of period. A girl’s kind of period.”

  “Oh, a female’s menstrual cycle.”

  “Yes. She’s in the throes of it right now.”

  “She seemed in fine health earlier.”

  “What are you, her OB?”

  “Her what?”

  “Exactly.”

  “See? He doesn’t have a clue.”

  “No, big Italian stud. You don’t have a clue. We’ll take care of her. Bring her to the nurse if necessary.”

  “I will take her.”

  There was a disgusted noise. “Please, she doesn’t need some stupid guy—”

  “A hot guy.”

  “True, but still a stupid hot guy who thinks a period is a punctuation mark.”

  “Well, it is.”

  “Not helping, Mika.”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  “So, hot, stupid guy, until Aurora feels better, Katie will take you to lunch and get you around classes for the rest of the day. She’s bilingual.”

  “Ooh-la-la. Oui, oui, monsieur.”

  “See?”

  “That is French. I am Italian.”

  “Exactly. Point being, you’ve got a new babysitter. Now get your butt out of here.”

  “A cute butt.”

  “Mika!”

  “Sorry. Don’t know what’s wrong with me. Can I interview you for the school paper?”

  “Ignore her.” There was shoving and sounds of protest from Cristiano. “We already told you, she has six boyfriends. You are not lucky number seven.”

  “But you could be my lucky number one.”

  “Mika, go take a cold shower. And as for you, Italian hot stuff, go away while we take care of girl stuff.”

  “Period.”

  “We established that, Mika.”

  “No. I meant, period, like end of story, we’re done.”

  “Yeah, but we’re already talking menstrual cycles so it’s confusing. How is it you’re an editor?”

  I was near tears and doubled over with laughter, hand covering my mouth as I tried to contain the snorts. Oh, Armani, you have just met your match.

  “Mr. Cacciatori!” It was Psyche. “You are proving to be quite the slippery character. I hope I don’t have to discuss this disobedience with my dear friend Principal Clarke.”

  A moment later Natasha sighed. “Okay, he’s gone. Mika and I will finish up here. Katie, you’re on Italian stud duty. Keep him occupied and away from here. Do you think you can handle it?”

  “Keep him mine all mine?” Katie gave a shudder of delight. “That I can do.”

  Katie disappeared out the door. Natasha and Mika finished up with me, undeniably satisfied with their work. As they should be.

  “You guys are amazing,” I said. “Thanks.”

  Figuring it could be the last time I saw them, I gave them each a legendary Lahey hug. Then it was off to teleport with a shady demon god to a place with even more shady characters so I could get myself killed.

  Ain’t life grand?

  CHAPTER 59

  “This is a terrible plan.”

  Eros shot me a tired look. “You keep saying that.”

  “Because it’s true.”

  He sighed. “I have literal millennia of experience in matters of intrigue.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “So how can you have come up with such a sucky plan?”

  He shook his head, but didn’t answer, and instead, peered out from our hiding place.

  We huddled in some shrubbery and cactus for cover outside the gates of Novo, where things had changed. Gone was the tranquil resort setting of before. Now the Mandatum facility was a hub of activity and resembled a military base in the middle of a war zone.

  Which I suppose it was.

  Vans and trucks traveled in and out. Pickups and flatbeds hauled weird looking equipment. There was noise and dust. The smell of diesel was strong, and an overall industrial aroma shot through the previously pristine air. Guards carrying weapons monitored every vehicle entering and exiting.

  The gates weren’t the only thing so heavily guarded. With all the extra security and the cloaking device wristbands being obsolete, Eros could teleport me here, but was unable to drop me inside. So instead, I had to find my way in through a maze of scary looking people.

  Of which I was now supposed to be one.

  Eros loved disguises, and he’d had me join in the charade. I’d laughed wh
en, in the girl’s locker room, my three magnificent makeover mavens had finished their work, and I looked in the mirror.

  My pale Irish skin was now dark tan. Red hair gone in favor of deep brown, all of it pulled off my face and running down my back in a long French braid. Amazing what quick tanning lotion, hair dye, and a straightening iron could do. Not to mention some artfully applied makeup and dark contact lenses. I hardly recognized myself.

  I wore a tank top, cargo pants, and heavy work boots. All the better for stomping heads. Because that’s what Sicarius assassins did. Which is what I was supposed to be.

  Normally, I never wore tank tops because they left the scars on my shoulder in prominent display, but I had to play the part, and I figured the scars would make me look more legit and convincing as a hard fighting member of Cristiano’s Psycho Squad. I was supposed to be Nitara.

  Eros was even attaching actual knives to the end of my braid.

  “Is that really necessary?” I asked.

  “Essential,” he said. “Details make all the difference. But keep this out of sight.” He took hold of the umbra stone necklace and began tucking it down my shirt.

  “Hey!” I slapped his hand away and did it myself.

  “Please,” Eros sighed tiredly. “I have felt breasts before.”

  “Not mine,” I shot back and wedged the stone firmly inside my bra.

  “You should be thanking me, instead of snapping. I am acting as quite the savior.” He was too excited over his brilliance.

  Eros latched a watch onto my wrist. It was one of those black, oversized things divers use. “You have little more than an hour until Heather’s scheduled release. Get in, get out. Someone will be waiting for you at the northeast gate. Use the schematics which I provided.”

  “You mean the blueprints that you gave me two seconds to memorize?”

  “I gave you nearly five minutes.”

  “Right. So much better.”

  “That’s the spirit. Besides, you were here already.”

  “In the hellacious subbasements, not the rest of the place.”

  “Just follow the plan. And if you get in a bind, flash this.” Eros stuck some sort of metal brooch on my belt.

  “What is it?”

  “Go now!”

  Eros shoved me out from our cover. I stumbled, yelping in pain as the knives hanging off my braid poked my back. Yeah, this was a disaster waiting to happen.

  I looked around in fear, sure I’d be grabbed immediately, but with all the activity, I went unnoticed. Something hit me in the face, then dropped to the ground. A black cap. I bent to pick it up and something hit my shoulder.

  “Really?” I snapped, then retrieved both the hat and big aviator sunglasses off the ground and put them on. With a final glare into the bushes at the stupid god, I squared my shoulders and joined the latest group of Mandatum individuals who’d arrived in the back of one of those camouflage, canvas-covered military trucks. I was supposed to tag along and just walk on in.

  But as my group got closer to the gates, I could see that once we got inside we were supposed to place a thumb on a small tablet. A guard would then check something on the tablet and instruct the person where to go.

  I began to sweat. Profusely. Shake violently. While searching for a way out.

  But it would be too obvious if I ditched now, especially if I did it by running away screaming my head off, which was my current driving instinct. So I stalled. Stepped to the side, and bent down, pretending to tie my boot laces, shooting desperate glances at where I’d left Eros. If he was even still there.

  The crowd was thinning. Another group had arrived, coming up behind, but there was a gap between us. One of the guards waved at me to come along.

  I stood. With a nod, I headed toward the gate. And the end of life as I knew it.

  CHAPTER 60

  I couldn’t believe I kept walking forward, but I did, my mind racing for a plan. As I came closer to the guard, he held out the tablet. He might as well have been holding out the platter upon which my head would soon be placed.

  “Stupid Eros,” I muttered, “And his stupid, sucky, pl—”

  There was a sudden groan of metal. Lots of shouting behind me. The guard and I turned just in time to see a flatbed truck flying through the air. It crashed into the perimeter wall just as another one followed suit. This time, someone was able to use their power to divert it sideways. There was a whoosh of fire as the first truck burst into flames. I smelled smoke, choked on dust. People ran. I joined them. The guard had forgotten me, and in the chaos, I bolted into the closest building.

  I slowed to a brisk walk but kept moving. Mostly against the flow because others were drawn outside to check on the commotion. At one of those You-Are-Here maps, I paused to check my location, then moved on.

  My stomach still tumbled rocks, but the further along I went without being challenged, the calmer I felt. Plus, the hospital vibe made me think of Dad which helped me focus on my family, which helped me settle down. At one point I even made some eye-contact, nodded at a few people, however briefly, mirroring how I’d seen Dad stride through the halls.

  The place was huge, and crowded. I was afraid of getting lost—despite the generous five minutes of checking Eros's schematics—so I paused abruptly and checked another map on the wall to make sure I was headed in the right direction. Someone bumped into me from behind. A short woman in her mid to late twenties who wore a lab coat.

  "Sorry,” she said and was about to move on when she noticed the pin on my belt. “Oh!” Her head gave a slight jerk back as she eyed me closely. “Well, they really are serious about this.” She glanced around. “Where are the rest?”

  Of what?

  “Uhhh…” I snapped my lips shut. Nitara would never say uhhh. “Unavailable,” I said shortly and headed down the hall.

  She caught up with me, short legs scurrying. “Do you need help?”

  I snorted. “Hardly.”

  Please go away, please go away, please go a—

  “No, of course not,” she blushed, picking up her pace and dodging through the crowd to keep up with me. “I just meant, you know, look, my grandfather was Sicarius, and I’m just a low level Hallucinator and nothing I do impresses him much, although, I am an excellent chemist, and while no one here has taken me seriously, yet, I’ve been experimenting with certain pharmaceutical concoctions that have the ability of boosting one’s Hallucinator powers, mine in particular, and if the clinical trials continue to go well, I think I have a chance of moving up the food chain so to speak, and then I might have a chance with Grandpa.”

  I gave her a skeptical look. “You’re experimenting on yourself to boost your powers? Is that safe?”

  Her cheeks pinked. “I know, I know, but it’s not like I can test it out on a monkey or rat, they don’t have powers, that we know of anyway, and I’m taking it very slowly, being extremely careful, anyway, point being, in the meantime, if I told Grandpa I helped you, I might get a grunt of approval, which if you knew him, would be huge, you know what I’m saying?” She finally paused for a breath and gave me a hopeful look. When I didn’t answer, she continued, “Okay, okay, I get it, you’re not interested in my problems, you’ve got bigger, more important fish to fry, but hey, you were looking at the map, which means you could be a bit lost—”

  You have no idea.

  “—and even if I could just help you find something, I mean, I do work here soooo…” She let the sentence hang for a moment, then said, “Nice necklace, by the way.”

  I hadn’t realized I’d pulled out the umbra stone and was fiddling with it in my hand, metal biting cold against my burning palm.

  “Okay, Doctor…” I glanced at her nametag. “Buttfield, maybe you can help.”

  “It’s, ah, Buttefield,” she said, pronouncing it like it rhymed with Cutefield, but unfortunately not with Mutefield, in her case. She pointed at her nametag. “Two Ts with an E, but, hey, you can call me whatever you want. ” She grinned. “And I
’ll help you with whatever you need. By the way, which one are you?”

  Which one of what? No clue.

  I narrowed her a Nitara glare. “The one who doesn’t like to answer questions.”

  We arrived at the nurse’s station on Heather’s ward, Dr. Buttefield chatting the entire way while typing on her computer tablet. I’d given her the phony release papers from “Dr. Oser” which Eros had supplied. Buttefield was taking care of everything with the nurse while I was busy keeping my head down.

  Two guys in black jumpsuits walked up next to us and slapped down papers. “Hey, little lady,” one of them said. “We need some help.”

  I froze at the voice. It sounded all too familiar. I risked a glance. Sure enough, it was Bill and Ted. The guys who’d tried to gun me down.

  Bill, the one not talking to the nurse, caught my eye. He started to turn away, then paused and doubled back, looking me up and down, before his gaze returned to my face. Then his eyes widened. He nudged Ted, who’d started to argue with the nurse that they should be helped before Buttefield and I.

  “What?” Ted said, annoyed. When Bill jerked a chin in my direction, Ted saw me, froze for a moment, then rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “No, I’m not,” the nurse told Ted. “You’ll have to wait your turn. This place is a zoo, in case you didn’t realize.” Then she noticed Bill and Ted staring at me. “You guys know each other?”

  I held my breath, my chest tight. Could this be it? Cover blown so fast?

  Ted stared at me. After several moments he said, “Yeah.”

  Ah, crap.

  He breathed out a heavy sigh. “We dated for a short time. It, uh, didn’t end well.”

  “Didn’t end well?” Bill snorted. “You two went out in a hail of bullets.”

  Well, weren’t they quite the comedians.

  Buttefield thought they were funny. Beside me, she chuckled. “You ticked her off? You’re lucky to be alive.” She nudged my shoulder. “Am I right?”

  I managed a tight smile.

  “So, sweetheart,” Ted said. “Can we let bygones be bygones?”

  “And by bygones,” Bill added, “he means let us be-gone without more violence? Or is it gonna be the OK Corral all over again?”