by Dannika Dark
The dwarf met eyes with him and showed no look of surprise or fear. “When I imagined the demise of this organization, I never envisioned it would be led by a man in a Pac-Man shirt. I am Pablo Leonardo Russo.” He stepped into the hall and inclined his head. “Well, aren’t you going to administer me my rights?”
Wyatt felt like one of those cartoon characters whose tongue was tied in a knot. Small or not, this man was a Mage, and he had to play his cards right. “Do you see any katanas on me? Am I wearing a red jacket with a coattail? I’m nobody,” Wyatt said, taking the target off his back.
“Pity. I’ve always had a fond appreciation for eccentrics. I’m sorry, am I keeping you from something?” The man walked toward the control room. “Let’s just see what Mr. Nobody is up to.”
Wyatt followed as the man whistled a familiar tune he couldn’t quite place. Maybe the specter following him would help. As a Gravewalker, Wyatt saw specters everywhere he went: gas stations, movie theaters, bagel shops, even walking alongside the road. If he acknowledged their existence, they would harass him, question him, and follow him—attracting other specters desperate for a connection to the living world. They usually hung out in busy places, hoping to run into a Gravewalker. But some attached themselves to living people, and they would follow them like a shadow.
Like the buxom blonde in the white dress who was following the little man around like a lost puppy. Was she an old flame? His sister? A woman he’d murdered?
Wyatt fell into step next to her. “If you help me, I’ll help you,” he whispered.
She whirled in front of him, her eyes wide. “You can see me?”
He put more distance between them and Pablo. “I need a favor. Tell me what you want in return.”
“Revenge. Do you know what he did to my body after I died? After he stole my immortality? He ordered his little helper to dump me in an alleyway. They treated me like royalty while I fought for them, but in the end, all I got was a one-way ticket to the crematorium. That’s what they do with people who don’t come from money. No funeral, no white dress, no eulogy.”
Wyatt wanted to roll his eyes. She had on her imaginary funeral dress. The dead had a tendency to linger on funeral customs, most of them feeling they deserved horse-drawn carriages, trumpets, a grandiose display of flowers, and an expensive casket. Only those with families or money received a decent funeral—the higher authority preferred cremation to prevent humans from exhuming their bodies.
Wyatt played along with her request. “How does Breed jail sound?”
“You call that revenge? I want him dead so I can strangle him for eternity.”
“Do you really want to see him for the rest of your unnatural life? Trust me, jail is the way to go.”
Pablo turned his head. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
Wyatt caught up. “Just trying to figure out where we’re going.”
“They say brilliant men talk to themselves.” Pablo resumed walking, his hands clasped behind his back. “I’ve never believed it.”
When they reached the control room, Pablo noticed Wyatt’s gear. “I see you’ve been busy.”
Wyatt stared at the empty space behind Pablo. “Your mother is here. She wants you to be a good boy.”
Pablo blushed and shifted uncomfortably. Then he studied Wyatt and followed the direction of his gaze. “You’re not a very good liar.”
“Your real name was Oswald.” He smiled at the imaginary figure behind Pablo. “You’re deathly afraid of inchworms. Just between you and me, I’m not a fan of butterflies.”
Pablo narrowed his eyes, his cool façade crumbling. “You keep looking over my shoulder, but my mother was almost six feet tall. A beast of a woman. I never did understand what Father saw in her. She lacked moral character.” Pablo rested his arm on the table. “Now I’m genuinely curious how you knew that information.”
Wyatt shot the blonde a baleful look.
The woman shrugged. “He never mentioned how big his mother was. I just assumed.”
Pablo marched toward Wyatt. “Who are you speaking to, Gravewalker? If that’s in fact what you are.”
Wyatt eyeballed his equipment and thought about bailing. The cool and collected ones made him nervous, but surely he could outrun this guy. Could a little person flash faster than he could run? Wyatt pondered the thought.
“A smart man would stay right where he is,” Pablo cautioned him.
Wyatt swung his gaze up to the monitors. Gem was trying to wield another energy ball, but the spark kept dying in her hands.
“Especially when someone is about to give him the keys to his kingdom.” Pablo walked over to the control panel and opened the second door, allowing Keystone in.
Wyatt didn’t know what this guy’s angle was, but he didn’t trust him. What if he’d just invited the Keystone team into a trap? Viktor had given Wyatt a backup number to call if things got out of hand. Did this qualify?
Pablo returned to the computer and made a few keystrokes. “Tell me you’re not the best of your kind.”
Ignoring his instinct to flee, Wyatt waltzed over to the computer and looked at an encrypted folder that Pablo had pulled up. “I was interrupted.”
Pablo arched his brow, unconvinced. “Huh. Did you also miss these files?”
“I copied everything to a drive. I didn’t have time for the tour.”
“Well, you’ll have a lot to look at later on then, won’t you?” Pablo reached underneath the desk and something ripped, like tape peeling off a hard surface. He handed Wyatt a flash drive. “A word of advice: never leave a room without searching it thoroughly. Some of us actually know how to use technology, and we also hide things in plain sight.”
Wyatt took the flash drive and put it in his pocket.
After a few more keystrokes, Pablo pulled up several camera angles on the monitor.
Wyatt watched people in black robes racing around an enclosed pit. Some were climbing into a hole in the wall, and others were attempting to bust through a heavy gate. A different camera showed Claude fending off three women. On another screen, Blue was swinging her axe at a bevy of women. Niko held a warrior’s stance with both swords, and no one dared to pass him.
“I could only bring up the outside doors. Didn’t think you had any power running down there.”
“Aside from the cameras, we don’t. Your friends won’t be able to hold them off for long.” Pablo held a grim look as he stared at the monitors.
Wyatt backed up. “What’s your angle, Dr. Evil?”
“Did you ever stop to wonder who your informant was? I lost all hope until your friend came along. That’s quite an interesting necklace she wears. A hollow onyx with a camera inside. You should talk to your jeweler. That’s a ubiquitous design when it comes to spy cams.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you? I’ll take bullshit for five hundred, Alex.”
Pablo glanced up at the screens. “Jeopardy was always a favorite of hers. You see, Audrey is a woman consumed with games. It’s her life. It’s how she makes money, how she amuses herself, how she treats others. Never love a woman who plays games with your heart—who strings you along, making you sink further into a pit of reprehensible behavior in order to lift her higher.” His gaze lowered. “I was promised immunity for this information. I was supposed to have enough advance warning to escape, but it seems I’ve been played a fool once again by a beautiful woman. I deserve to be locked up for my stupidity. I guess the fates have decided.”
“You’re not going to fight or try to escape?”
“To what avail? You’ve already seen my face, and I am not a killer.”
Wyatt unplugged his external hard drive. “This says otherwise.”
“I stage the events, but I do not partake.”
Wyatt flicked a glance at the screen. His team wouldn’t be able to control the crowd much longer. Wyatt sent a text message to their emergency backup, giving them the club location and entrance point. Once they got control of those masked
buffoons, they could call in the Regulators. Maybe Pablo was distracting him so his redheaded cohort could sneak up and sever Wyatt’s head. Wyatt stroked his throat.
“You look pale, my friend. I assure you this isn’t a ruse. I haven’t been myself lately. Perhaps my evil deeds are catching up with my conscience.”
“Whatever you say.” Wyatt zipped up his backpack.
“I am curious about one thing: how did you know my given name? If my mother isn’t the one you’re talking to, then who is?”
Wyatt flicked a glance at the blonde, who was giving Pablo a scathing look from her seat on the table. He swiped up his ski mask and shoved it in his back pocket. “Her name is Tiffany. Ring any bells?”
Pablo clasped his hands behind his back and inclined his head. “Ah, now it all makes sense. Tell me, Gravewalker, is it true that the dead can put thoughts in your head?”
“Sometimes. It depends on the person and the circumstance.”
“The timing of her death and my guilty conscience is more than a coincidence. I’ve been having all sorts of dreams, and I wonder if Tiffany had something to do with that. She wasn’t involved in the death matches, but Tiffany was surprisingly competitive. Audrey convinces the girls that if they choose to leave, a Vampire will scrub their memories. That’s a lie to make them feel safe. Audrey would never risk anyone leaving our organization with all that knowledge, so the quitters and losers became my responsibility. Taking care of her problems was the hardest part of my job. I never received any specific orders about sexual relations with the fighters, so perhaps it never occurred to Audrey that a woman could be attracted to a dwarf. Tiffany was”— Pablo made the shape of an hourglass with his hands—“but I guess you can see that for yourself.”
“She’s all yours, buddy. In this life and in the next.”
Pablo followed Wyatt’s gaze. “Tiffany, you deserved better, and for that I’m eternally sorry. I only hope that you were unconscious the entire time and didn’t feel any pain. Don’t waste your existence following me. Move on to the next life. I’ll be spending many, many years in a cell. That’s no place for a woman like you.”
Wyatt inched toward the door. “She gives her thanks.”
“Do me one favor—say it like she said it. In her words, not yours.”
This guy was a nutball. If there was one thing Wyatt hated, it was acting as an interpreter for the dead. He drew in a deep breath and sighed. “It’s okay, Ozzie Pooh. I forgive you, even though a stray cat ate one of my toes.”
Pablo grimaced before pulling out a chair. “Have a seat, my lady. There’re things I wish to say before I go.”
Feeling a bubble of nausea rise in his throat, Wyatt backed up toward the door. “That’s a therapy session I ain’t got time for.”
His job was to collect evidence and keep his ass alive. No sense hanging around if this guy decided to change his mind. Besides, their backup would be here any moment to take care of Pablo and his ghosty gal.
“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Wyatt turned on his heel and froze when he spotted a drop-dead gorgeous redhead walking their way. “Now that’s a twist I didn’t see coming.”
Chapter 32
The elevator moved like molasses, but that gave me a chance to get a good look at myself in the reflective wall. “Did you ever see that movie Carrie?”
“You and your da spend far too much time watching movies. You should pick up a book sometime.”
“Everything You Wanted to Know about Tarantulas but Were Afraid to Ask?”
“One of these days, I’m going to take you to the zoo.”
“If you’re trying to get rid of me, Poe, bars won’t keep me away from you.” I batted my eyelashes coquettishly.
“You’re a peculiar woman.” He leaned against the wall, arms folded. “For your information, animals have a lot to teach us about our true instincts—the ones we repress.”
“I suppose your instinct is telling you to lick every drop of blood off my body?”
He leaned forward and gave me a wolfish grin. “That’s not what I want to lick.”
I flushed all over, and for a brief moment, I entertained the idea of having sex with Christian in the elevator. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was entertaining the thought too. We stared at each other intensely.
Ding went the elevator.
He pulled his collar away from his neck. “That’s us. Feel like taking a ride back down?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
He stepped close and put his lips to my ear. “Tempting you is what I do best.” Christian suddenly jerked up, his eyes wide and alert. “Wyatt’s in trouble.”
“When is he not in trouble?”
Christian stuck his foot in the doors to prevent them from closing. “The woman’s here.”
I followed Christian as he sprinted to the left. We jogged through a doorway and stopped short of a brightly lit room. Inside, Pablo lay motionless in a pool of his own blood, his head severed. I could hear Wyatt shouting, and as we drew closer, I spotted him in the back of the room, holding a chair like a lion tamer.
“I didn’t conspire anything!” Wyatt barked at her. “I didn’t even know him. I’m just a guy who works for a guy. I don’t know anything.”
“What a terrible liar,” I murmured.
Wyatt threw the chair at her and started to run toward the door until a sword blocked it. He backed up against the far wall and slumped to the floor, making himself as small as possible. Audrey peered around the doorway at us.
I waved at her. “How’s it going?”
She turned her back on Wyatt to face us, a bloody sword in hand. “I should have known the little man would betray me one day, but you?” Despite her elegance and sophistication, it was clear that Audrey knew how to use a sword.
I stood my ground. “Why do you think I didn’t kill the wolf? Did you really believe I was putting on a show just for you? If I’d wanted him dead, I could have done it before you recited the alphabet.”
“Now there’s a braggart,” Christian muttered.
Audrey gestured to Pablo. “Did he put you up to this? I would’ve given you a whole lot more to keep your mouth shut. You didn’t play your cards right.”
“But I did. I knew the house was dealing a dirty game from the beginning. I’m not some random bartender. You’re smarter than that. Well, not that smart. You made a few mistakes that led us here. It’s over, Audrey. There’s no way out.”
“There’s always a way out.” She whirled around and marched up to Wyatt, holding the blade to his throat. “Get up.”
With his back to the wall, Wyatt stood with his hands up.
She poked him in the side, and he winced. “Get moving or I’ll gut you like a fish.”
“What’s the plan?” I whispered to Christian.
“Let her walk out of here, or vacuum Wyatt’s intestines off the floor later. Dealer’s choice.”
“Are you immune to Sensors? Maybe you can grab her when they walk by.”
“Fecking not. If she has the Salem witch burnings inside her, I don’t want to guess what might happen. I once heard of a Sensor killing a Vampire with a powerful death experience.”
I had no urge to grab her either, now that I knew how powerful and debilitating sensory experiences really were.
Once Audrey and Wyatt were out of the room, she held the blade to his throat again, making it impossible to knock it away without mortally injuring Wyatt. I briefly entertained the idea, thinking Christian might be able to heal him with his blood, but that would be a shitty thing to do.
When she gripped Wyatt’s shoulder with her other hand, his expression went blank as he fell under her influence. She drew nearer, and I noticed blood spatters on her face.
“Audrey, there’s no way you can escape. We’ve got this place surrounded from top to bottom. If you let him go, I’ll cut you a deal.”
“Lies.”
Some people were gullible, so it
had been worth a try. “Fine. If you kill him, then we kill you. How’s that for odds?”
“I’d rather die fighting than on my knees in front of the higher authority.”
“I bet you have enough money to pay them off. A few decades in confinement, and then you’re free.”
A rivulet of blood trickled down Wyatt’s neck, but the vacant look in his green eyes remained. Christian gave me a grim look, and I read his mind. Once Audrey reached the elevator, she’d cut Wyatt’s throat. She knew it would distract us long enough for those elevator doors to close.
Where the hell is Viktor?
Christian and I stood across from each other, our backs to the wall. Audrey’s arm trembled, but she kept the blade against Wyatt’s neck. Wyatt shuffled forward like a zombie.
“Don’t try anything,” she warned us.
“For future reference, daggers are a hell of a lot easier to carry around,” I said with derision. “Did you hide that steel under your dress?”
Christian chortled. “I’d wager she hid it in her giant fanny. Have you got a pillow in there? Something I can rest my head on while we wait for you to saunter on to the elevator?”
“It’s the high heels,” I pointed out. “They slow you down.”
Christian glanced at my bare feet. “Speaking of dry hooves, where the feck are your shoes?”
“Someone else wanted to walk a mile in them.” I smiled as we strategically distracted Audrey, who was now attempting to walk backward.
Christian glowered. “Those were an expensive pair, I’ll have you know.”
I stepped toward him. “Maybe you should have bought me cheap shoes like hers. Look, one of them is coming apart.” I gestured to Audrey’s feet.
She flicked a glance at her heels, and with that, I flashed down the hall and yanked her arm before twirling away. Christian moved like a bullet and fell on top of Wyatt to protect him.
