by Amy Sumida
“I'm sure I don't know him as well as you,” I said gently, “but I can't see Torin coming back to me after I take a third lover.”
“Then don't,” she pleaded.
“The spell is cast, Ceana,” I whispered. “I can't undo it.”
“Oh, Elaria.” She hugged me. “May the stones guide you and bring you back to my son. Another lover is not the end of the world. Torin will understand eventually.”
“No; I don't think he will.”
Chapter Seven
I was just taking a seat beside Declan when my contact charm chimed. A contact charm is a piece of barite—a gemstone with communication properties—that has been empowered to be used to relay voices like a cell phone. It was generally made from clear barite with one end shaped into a cone to fit into the user's ear, and the other end with a hole in it so it could be hung from a necklace or belt. Mine had been a gift from Torin, and it was special; the wider end was naturally formed into a rosette.
I slipped it out of my bodice, pulling it up by its gold chain, and stuck it in my ear. “Hello?”
“El!”
“Cerberus?” I got up and moved back, closer to the alexandrite wall so that I could hear him better.
The note of panic in his tone worried me. Cerberus Skylos had once been a guardian of Hades—both the place and the god. He'd been fired, but that didn't make him any less badass. Cer had gone to the Human Realm to make a new life for himself, and that's where he had met me. He wasn't just a powerful god, Cerberus was also smart; he had taken stock of my skills and figured out how we could form a mutually beneficial relationship. I became a fixer because of him, and we made a lot of money together. Cerberus only called me in when he couldn't handle a situation himself, and even then, he never got spooked. There wasn't much that could scare a god who shifted shape into a monstrous, three-headed dog just for funsies.
“What's wrong?” I asked him.
“I need you in Vegas—now!” Cerberus shouted. “There are olgoi khorkhoi attacking the Vegas Strip, and they're headed straight for Freya's club.”
“Mongolian death worms?” I was aghast. Then I remembered who I was speaking to. “Cerberus, if you're fucking with me—”
“Fucking Grabboids, Elaria!” Cerberus screeched. “Grabboids are burrowing up through the gods-damned desert toward the love of my life, and she's refusing to leave! Now, get your fucking spellsinging ass over here and help me defend my woman!”
“I am a goddess,” I heard Freya huff in the background. “I can defend myself, and I'll be damned if I let a bunch of worms destroy what's mine.”
“Where are you?” I went deadly calm. “Which of Freya's hotels?”
“The Vanguard,” Cerberus started to sound calmer too. “You can travel straight into her suite. You remember it, right?”
“Yes. I'll be there in two minutes.” I pulled the contact charm out of my ear and let it drop back down my bodice.
“What's happening with Cerberus?” Declan had left his royal guests to join me. “Do you need me to go with you?”
“There are olgoi khorkhoi in Las Vegas,” I said with wondrous shock. “I have no idea what's going on.”
“Death worms in the Human Realm?” Declan scowled. “Didn't the Beneath deport all the monsters who weren't capable of cognitive thought?”
“Yeah, over two hundred years ago,” I said. “I've never even seen a death worm, have you?”
“A small one once,” Declan whispered. “Sweet stones, there's going to be chaos among the humans. Widespread panic.”
“I know,” I said grimly as I pulled out my traveling stone. “I could probably use all the help I can get.” I held my hand out to him. “Feel like lending me a hand?”
“I'm going to fight death worms!” Declan called to his steward as he took my hand. Then he nodded to the shocked royal guests sitting at the high table. “Please enjoy the meal; we will speak with you more about our peace treaty tomorrow.”
Chapter Eight
“Precious Persephone,” I whispered in awe. “It's fucking Dune.”
“Grabboids,” Cerberus insisted.
“Cer, I keep telling you; Grabboids don't spit electricity,” Freya said. “Elaria's right, they're more like sandworms.”
“Sandworms didn't actually spit electricity either,” Cerberus growled. “Wormsign is a static charge created on the surface of the desert by the worm's passage.”
“Are you three seriously geeking out over movies while a fucking herd of Mongolian death worms makes it way down the Las Vegas Strip?” Declan snapped.
“She started it,” Cerberus mumbled, his massive shoulders drooping like puppy ears. “And I don't think you call a group of worms a herd.”
“Maybe Elaria did start it,” Declan offered, “but we are going to end it. We need to get these worms back to Torr-Chathair.”
“Torr-Chathair.” Cerberus grimaced. “Why's it always got to be Gaelic?”
“In this instance, it's because the Shining Ones found the planet for you beneathers, and then we helped you move your monsters there,” Declan said smoothly. “Now, are we going to do this or what?”
“Declan, if I can lure the worm in, can you open a portal to Torr-Chathair?” I asked.
“Large enough for them to travel through?” Declan looked down the street skeptically.
We were all standing on one of those rigs window washers use. Freya's balcony was too high for us to cast our magic on the worms effectively, but the street would be far too dangerous. The humans were fleeing like lemmings, all headed in one direction—ours. And then there were the worms; I had no intention of getting in their path. So, we decided to lower ourselves down to the second floor via the rig. This left us at the perfect level to reach the worms without being trampled by the stampede or gobbled up. I didn't feel all that great about dangling over the strip in a metal basket like bait, but it was the best option available. It also gave us a great view.
The death worms were tearing up the asphalt, chunks of blacktop blasting through glass walls and crushing vehicles the humans had abandoned. The worms themselves were redder than the sandworms of Dune, more cinnabar than beige, but they had the same serpentine body and a nearly impenetrable hide. They were thankfully much smaller than sandworms—maybe one to two meters long—and their mouths didn't open like ferocious flowers either. Olgoi khorkhoi had one, toothless orifice for a mouth that undulated like the gills of a fish. They were a streamlined monster; everything they could consume went in one end and then flowed out the other... which made them perfect for fertilizing farmland. However, they were a bitch to battle. Not only were their hides tough, they were coated in a deadly substance; one touch could kill you. And that wasn't all.
Lightning flashed from their mouths, electrifying their victims and cooking them within seconds. Like I said; they were a streamlined monster, not just in appearance, but also in functionality. They moved fast, ate even faster, and digested in seconds. From what I'd read about them, they hibernated for years on end, but when they woke, they could wipe out entire civilizations. To deal with them I'd first need to ground their lightning, and then I'd have to lure them through a portal... if Declan could make one big enough to fit the death worms.
“Declan?” I prompted.
“I should be able to,” he finally answered. “But with all of these people here, some may fall in with the worms.”
“Do what you gotta do, Alexandrite,” Cerberus growled. “We don't have too many options here.”
“Maybe I can hold them off long enough to give the humans a chance to clear the streets,” I muttered as I flipped through the playlist on my iPod.
“Cerberus and I will help with that,” Freya said as she reached a hand down toward the running masses.
The people calmed and started to escape instead of simply run blindly.
“I don't have that kind of juju, Freya,” Cerberus said. “I can scare them, but that's already been taken care of.”
“T
hen just stand there and look pretty, Cer,” I teased him as I stuck my earbuds in. He tried to say something back, but the song was already starting. “I can't hear you!” I shouted as people do when they have earphones in.
Cerberus made an irritated face at me, and I laughed. But then Bishop Briggs' “Dark Side” drew me in. The trembling guitar strengthened into smacking drumbeats, and then a rolling lure. I opened my mouth, and the magic poured out of me. It was the song of a woman giving in to her darker emotions and tempting her lover with them... among other things. But I needed the greedy call of darkness itself; the literal threat in her words. So, I shifted the meaning just a touch, altering the thrilling wickedness into something more sinister. I cast out the leeching lyrics and felt them hook something within the worms—then I reeled it back. And yes, the irony of fishing for worms, instead of with them, did occur to me.
A horrible screeching vibrated through the air as the night went white. Not only had I stolen the death worms' lightning, I had also taken all the electricity of Las Vegas itself. It funneled before me—a blinding cone of light—and then grounded itself, leaving only scorched and crumbling sidewalk behind. Darkness descended on Las Vegas, and the worms floundered without their electric defenses.
Then Declan's elegant hand shot out. I continued to sing as a portal opened before us. Normally, the edges of a portal wouldn't be visible, but in such a complete black-out, the magic glimmered. The worms couldn't see it—mainly because they didn't have eyes—but they could sense it, and they headed toward the portal without any urging. A wounded animal will head for shelter if it's offered, and the olgoi khorkhoi knew home was nearby.
I softened the song then, calming them and easing their journey home. Their retreat had made me realize that these creatures hadn't gone to Earth willingly; they'd been stolen from their environment and released in a world that must seem alien to them after so many years. The worms had reacted in fear and confusion, as any beast would. So, as they crawled into the portal, I released my hold on their electricity. They gave soft, soughing sounds of relief as I made them whole again. The worms slipped through the portal, back to Torr-Chathair—the Citadel Realm—and as the last worm disappeared, the lights of Vegas flickered back to life.
It looked as if the world had ended.
Chapter Nine
There was no way to cover up an olgoi khorkhoi attack on Las Vegas. The leaders of the Beneath had freaked out just a bit. But it turned out that we didn't have to cover up anything. Humans will accept any explanation that allows them to sleep at night, and the humans in charge will provide that explanation just to keep the masses calm. So, the news reported that an earthquake had devastated parts of Las Vegas and the surrounding desert.
And the Beneath breathed a sigh of relief.
In case I haven't mentioned it before, the Beneath is the community of supernatural citizens who live on Earth. Gods, shapeshifters, and everything in between exists secretly among the humans. No one wants to come out of the paranormal closet; we're all very happy in the dark—and with keeping humans in the dark. Personally, I believe that humans know we're here. On some instinctual level—perhaps in their genetic memories—they know about us. They tell stories and make movies to give those tickling fears a voice, and maybe to mute it a bit. They feel our presence like a hot breath on the back of their necks, and they've learned to enjoy the thrill. But they don't want to be truly scared, and every beneather knows that. Humans try to kill anything that makes them afraid, and although they'd never win against us beneathers, they'd try like hell, and they'd keep trying until they all died out. And we happen to like human culture. Beneathers like things like ice cream, iPods, and the Internet just as much as anyone else. None of us want to exterminate the human race. So, the Beneath was relieved that the humans handled our mess for us.
What the humans didn't handle—what they couldn't handle—was investigating how this mess happened in the first place and stopping it from happening again. That was on us.
As soon as the death worms were sent back to where they belonged, I turned to the others and said exactly what they were all thinking: “Someone brought those worms here.”
As I've already mentioned; there was no beneather alive who would want to bring a monster to Earth and threaten our fragile coexistence. We were the ones who sent them to Torr-Chathair in the first place. Which brought up the question of who would. Who would want to bring the death worms to Earth? To what purpose? And who had enough power to wrangle olgoi khorkhoi without getting themselves killed in the process?
To find the answers to those questions, Freya, Cerberus, Declan, and I followed the worm destruction (a different kind of wormsign) back to his origins. Olgoi khorkhoi burrowed, so we couldn't see all of their trail, but they surfaced enough to make it easy to pick up. We eventually found a crater-like depression still tingling with the power of their passage from Torr-Chathair, and we searched it for any sign of how the worms had been moved.
We found only one piece of evidence: the imprint of a man's shoe... or a large woman's shoe. Cerberus placed his size 17 feet down beside the print, and the footprint was just a couple inches smaller. We guessed it to be roughly a men's size 9, which would be around a size 10 for a woman.
“Can't you sing something that will help us discover who did this?” Cerberus asked me.
“Sure, she'll just belt out the ballad of 'Finding a Worm-Moving Asshole,'” Freya huffed.
“It's a fair question.” I waved off her sarcasm. “Let me think a second.”
Freya's eyes widened, and Cerberus chuckled.
“She's my best friend, Frey,” Cerberus said, “and we've been working together for years. I know what she's capable of.”
“Well, I obviously didn't,” Freya remarked without rancor. In fact, she sounded impressed.
“I haven't done anything yet,” I said as I searched through my playlist.
“You helped send three death worms back to Torr-Chathair,” Declan said softly. “I think that's something.”
“And we couldn't have got them there without you, Declan.” I gave him a grateful look. “I'm glad you decided to join me.”
“I'm glad as well.” Cerberus gave Declan a back slap. “Thanks, dude; I owe you one.”
“I'm happy to have helped.” Declan beamed at Cer.
“Okay, I've got something.” I put my earbuds in and stepped forward, away from the others.
I pressed Play and the lulling, softness of Susie Suh and Robert Koch's “Here With Me” began. I took a deep breath and let the music calm me as my magic rose. My voice moaned out of me; a near-lament, an almost-tragedy—the lyrics sounded sad, but there was also sweetness lying beneath them. A woman looking for something real falls in love by chance. Then that love leaves, but though they're separated, she still feels him—he's still with her. The song resonated with me on so many levels, but I only needed one for my current purpose. So, I pushed away the rising images of Torin's face and focused on the now.
I used the call of the music to reach out and collect the trail of energy left behind that I couldn't see. I was looking for something which I knew was here already; I just needed another perspective to view it. The gentle cadence latched onto the trail, just a spark in the night, and followed it to its explosive end. The magic echoed around me, reaching out to trail its fingertips over the shoulder of the person... no, the man who had done this. I caught the barest glimpse of pale hair—the light I'd been searching for—and then the vision winked out.
I sighed and opened my eyes. I hadn't even realized that I'd closed them. I silently wound my earbuds around my iPod and stuck them into the pouch on my belt. I was dressed in a velvet gown, having come directly from Declan's court, but I never went anywhere without my music.
“Anything?” Declan asked gently.
“Very little,” I admitted as I turned around. “It's a fair-haired man. That's all I was able to see before the trail died out. I think he may have released the worms and immed
iately left the realm. The distance was too far for my song to follow.”
“It's a start,” Cerberus said thoughtfully. “I have a scent too, though it's hard to separate it from the worm musk.”
“Maybe this was a horrible prank, and this guy learned his lesson,” I suggested.
They all just stared at me.
“Yeah, it's a lot to hope for,” I said. “But if he's just getting started, I'm dreading what he does next.”
Chapter Ten
“I don't think I can be there,” Banning said softly. “I'm one hundred percent behind you, El, but I can't watch you fall in love with another man.”
“I understand.” I squeezed his hand and used it to pull him closer for a kiss.
We were enjoying an early dinner in Alpha, the upscale restaurant in Banning's country club, The Crouching Lion. The sun was just setting, and Banning liked to come up from his subterranean quarters to enjoy the last rays of daylight from the safety of our private dining room. It had a view of the golf course—the prettier bit—and some woodland through a pair of French doors, and our table had one of those curved, bench seats behind it so we could snuggle together. As an older blooder (vampire), Banning could tolerate sunlight, but it was very uncomfortable for him to remain out in for an extended period. Because of this, he ended up living a more traditional blooder lifestyle and slept through most of the day. But that didn't mean he didn't enjoy the sun.
In fact, there were several things that blooders still enjoyed, despite their requirements. Blooders didn't need to eat normal food (as opposed to blood), but they liked it as much as anyone else. We'd had a full dinner that evening; appetizers, salads, the works. But now Banning pushed away his souffle with a sour expression.
“That look better not be in response to my kiss,” I teased him.
