Ink Witch

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  I pressed my hand against my cheek and worked my jaw from side to side. While she might have been petite and pretty as all hell, Aset was ancient and had spent millennia training to be nearly as fierce and lethal as her twin brother. Who, at the moment, was watching from a chair, Lex’s hand in his and the faintest smirk twisting his lips.

  “I’m sorry about Nik,” I said, assuming her anger was because her son seemed to be the latest Ouroboros victim. “I knew Mari wanted him for something, and I told her where he was to save my own life.” And to keep this timeline from unraveling as the thread of my life disappeared, or so I’d thought at the time. I hadn’t known there was another way.

  “You’re a foolish child,” Aset said with a huff. Her rich, ancient accent was more pronounced than usual. “Nekure is more than capable of dealing with Mari.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Then why did you hit me?”

  “Because I missed you.” Her amber eyes shone. “For three years, you couldn’t even be bothered to answer my calls, and you made it clear I was not welcome in your life. What was I to think? I had to resort to hiring a private investigator to check up on you.”

  My lips parted. “You did what?”

  “Even Nekure checked in with me time and again, letting me know he was alive.”

  “Thanks for letting the rest of us know,” Lex muttered under her breath.

  I sniffed. So Aset hadn’t shared her periodic phone calls with Nik with the rest of our unconventional family. Now who was the inconsiderate one? I opened my mouth to make that very point when the sound of footsteps came from the hallway leading to Dom’s operating room.

  Neffe appeared, crossing to the waiting area, shoulders slumped. “He went into cardiac arrest.” She held up a hand to cut off our questions. “We managed to bring him back, and he’s stable enough for the moment, but there’s no way to predict how long that will last.” She was quiet for a moment, her eyes locked with her father’s. “I thought we could stabilize him, even without his ba, but . . .” She shook her head. “His organs are starting to shut down. There’s nothing more we can do for him, and life support will keep him going for only so long. If we don’t reunite him with his ba soon, he will die.”

  “Mari’s the only one who can release his ba from that thing,” Heru said, pointing to the inky black orb in my hand.

  “But how can we find her, Father?” Neffe asked. “The Senate’s been searching for Mari and the others for months . . .”

  Heru’s hawkish stare locked onto me. “She’ll be looking for you if she truly believes you’re infected with anti-At.”

  I nodded. “There’s no way for her to know about this mark,” I said, rolling the orb to my fingertips and flashing the black-streaked iridescent Eye of Horus on my palm. “So far as she knows, she needs to find me before this world changes into the wild unknown.” I looked at Aset. “If Nik’s with her, can’t you just call him?”

  She shook her head. “I tried that hours ago. His phone’s either off or dead.”

  “If you made your whereabouts known to her,” Heru said, “Mari would come to you.”

  I shook my head. “Not if she thinks you guys are around. She might prefer to preserve this timeline, but not at the expense of her own life.” I frowned, considering another angle. “I think she’s kind of a big shot at Ouroboros. If I walked in there alone, asked for her, and told them who I was, they’d be able to get the message to her.”

  “But that still doesn’t get her here,” Neffe said. “And there’s no guarantee that she’ll be willing to help.” Neffe hesitated. “What about Mei? We could use her to coerce—”

  “Out of the question,” Aset said. Mei was Mari’s adoptive mother. She was also Nik’s only child—that I knew of—and Aset’s only grandchild. She was technically dead, having been murdered during all the hoopla a couple decades ago, but being a time traveler—however grounded she currently was by the new gods’ ban on time travel—she’d found a loophole to extend her life by jumping forward in time. Eventually, the day would come when she’d have to return and allow her own murder. But not yet.

  “If I talk to Mari . . .” I licked my lips. She’d said she loved me; if that was true, she’d have to listen. “I don’t know why she’s doing all of this, but she’s not a bad person. She’ll help Dom. She’ll make the right choice.” I exchanged a look with Lex. Her red-rimmed eyes made her look a little shell-shocked. “I have to trust that she’ll make the right choice.”

  Everyone looked at Heru, our people’s general, an uncrowned king. Finally, he nodded solemnly. “If she chooses wrong—if she resists—I authorize you to use whatever force necessary to capture her and bring her here. This isn’t how Dom ends. He’s a warrior. He deserves better.”

  “I understand.” I turned away from Heru and set the orb down on a chair, then picked up my leather jacket and put it on. I stuffed the orb back into my pocket and met Heru’s fierce golden eyes. “This isn’t how he ends,” I agreed, meaning it with every fiber of my being.

  This isn’t how he ends.

  20

  I hurried back to the parking garage and found the trash can near my bike, where I’d stowed my weapons. The trash bag was still mostly empty, and it was easy enough to retrieve my things. Within minutes of reaching the garage, I was suited up once more and kicking my leg over the Ducati’s high seat.

  It was still early enough that the streets of downtown Seattle weren’t crowded, only a single overnight road construction crew attempting to slow me down. Fourth Avenue was closed off, and instead of following the detour down to Third so I could swing back around on Fifth—damn one-way streets—I flipped a bitch and rode down Fifth going the wrong way. It was only a block and a half, and Dom’s life was on the line.

  A couple cars honked at me, and someone in a white BMW sedan rolled down their window to inform me none too politely that I was going the wrong way. I ignored them all and parked the bike on the sidewalk just a few feet from the Fifth Avenue entrance into the Columbia Center, not caring that the parking job was about as illegal as they get. I jumped off the bike, practically ripping my helmet off and dropping it on the cement, and ran to the door.

  I entered the posh building on the second floor, all the mall shops still closed, doors shut and security gates pulled down. I could hear people down in the food court, though, early birds at the several cafes grabbing their morning coffee fixes.

  A single woman was waiting at the elevator. I stopped a couple feet from her, crossed my arms over my chest, and met her eyes, forcing a half-assed smile. Her gaze slid to the sword strapped to my back, and her eyes rounded. She backed away slowly, then turned and jogged to the escalator. No doubt she was going in search of security or, even better, police. I sniffed and turned my back to the escalators. Some people are so jumpy.

  Widening my stance, I rolled my head from side to side to crack my neck as I watched the digital counter over the elevator. Eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven . . .

  The metallic clang of boots tromping up the escalator caught my attention, and I glanced over my shoulder. Two of Seattle’s finest in their starched midnight-blue uniforms barreled up the moving stairway, one a chick, the other a dude.

  I peered up at the counter. Three. Two . . .

  Ding. The elevator doors whooshed open, and I stepped inside, hitting the “close” button immediately.

  “Hey!” the lady cop shouted. “Hold the elevator!”

  I raised my hand and blew them a kiss as the doors slid shut. Too slow, Joes. I heard the cop shout “Stop!” just before the elevator car started its speedy ascent.

  The building was on the newer side, and the elevator was fast, but the ride up to the sixtieth floor seemed to take forever. I counted my pounding heartbeats, hoping the exercise might provide some sense of calm. It was one Dom used to make me do when my temper or frustration would get the better of me, and it always helped. Not this time. Though this time I thought giving in to my emotions might actually be beneficial
, especially when it came to pleading with Mari.

  On floor sixty, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open once more, revealing the medical-chic lobby. It was just past six in the morning, late enough for a receptionist to be sitting at the curved desk a dozen or so yards across the polished composite floor. She looked up as I stepped out of the elevator, and a second later, her arm moved.

  “Security to reception immediately,” she said in a voice that should have been too quiet for me to hear. If I were human. I’m not.

  She watched me cross the lobby, my bootfalls echoing off the walls. I stopped a few yards from the reception desk, hands in my coat pockets. “My name is Kat Dubois. Tell Dr. Marie Jones I’m here,” I said, using Mari’s pseudonym. “She’s looking for me.”

  The receptionist offered me an icy smile. “She isn’t currently in her office.”

  I withdrew my hands from my pockets ever so slowly. “I’m sure you have a way to get ahold of her. All you have to do is let her know I’m here.” I sniffed a laugh. “What could be the harm in that?”

  I heard the sound of multiple pairs of boots pounding against the hard floor. Security was on its way. Dealing with them would be annoying, but hardly much of a hindrance. So long as I could convince the receptionist to get a message to Mari, the plan was still on track.

  I backed away from the desk and lowered myself to my knees, raising my hands and lacing my fingers together behind my head. “Call her,” I said just as a cadre of well-armed security guards emerged from the hallway to the right of the lobby.

  The black-clad men and women were in the process of surrounding me when the elevator dinged and the doors opened once more.

  “Seattle PD!” a man shouted. “Drop your weapons!”

  The security personnel backed away from me but didn’t disarm.

  “We’ll take it from here,” the female cop said. I could hear her striding across the lobby, one shoe squeaking with each step. She came to a stop behind me. “Hands behind your back, ma’am.”

  I did as ordered, lowering my arms and pressing my wrists together behind my back, my eyes locked with the receptionist’s. I could just make out the sound of a phone ringing in her headset.

  “Make it quick,” Mari said through the earpiece, her voice faint but clear. “The helicopter’s waiting.”

  I raised a single eyebrow. She was pulling out all the stops to find me. I felt the corners of my lips draw up even as cold steel ratcheted around my wrists. This would work.

  “There’s a woman here to see you. The police are about to take her away, but—”

  “Is it Kat?” Mari asked. “Does she have a sword?”

  The receptionist frowned. “She does, yes.”

  “Do not let them take her!” Mari all but shouted. “Do anything, Janelle—anything! I don’t care if you have to lock the police officers in a closet yourself, do not let them take her. I’ll be on the roof in ten minutes. I want Kat there, waiting for me.”

  “I understand,” Janelle said, then pressed a button on the side of her headset and stood. “I’m sorry.” She flashed that ice-queen smile at the officers. “But we actually need her.”

  “This woman is under arrest for carrying illegal weapons,” the female cop said, wrapping the fingers of one hand around my arm and pulling me up to my feet.

  “I’m so sorry,” the receptionist said. She came around the end of the desk, her movements graceful. “That’s our fault. We asked her to come in looking like a threat to test our security protocols. It was a drill.” She held her hands out before her. “Perhaps a poorly thought-out drill, but nothing more.” When her eyes slid over me, her cheek twitched, but her smile didn’t falter one bit. I couldn’t imagine why anyone had given this woman the job of receptionist; she was about as warm and welcoming as Neptune.

  “Do you have documentation of this ‘drill’?” the policewoman asked. “We can’t release her on your word alone.”

  “Of course.” The receptionist extended her arm to the side, gesturing toward the hallway to the right of the lobby. “If you’ll both follow me, I can show you.”

  “Forbes,” the cop said to her partner. “Stay here.”

  Her partner nodded.

  The receptionist’s chilly smile became razor sharp. She was none too pleased. “Perhaps your partner would like to oversee the remainder of the drill?”

  When her stare landed on me, I winked at her. She was a clever one, this Janelle. An ice queen, perhaps, but a clever ice queen.

  Janelle looked past me, focusing on one of the security guards. “I believe they were just about to escort the ‘intruder’ to the helipad on the roof—it’s a transport scenario.” She flashed the lady cop a gracious smile. “Of course, they won’t actually be flying anywhere. It’s just—we’re on a bit of a tight schedule, and we’d like the drill to be completed before business hours.”

  “Fine,” the officer said. She headed for the receptionist. “Let’s see this documentation.”

  21

  Walking up a stairwell with your hands cuffed behind your back is awkward as hell. You’re hyperconscious of foot placement and you don’t want to look up, because if you trip, you will fall on your face. Literally. And faces and cement stairs don’t play well together. Not ever. So yeah, walking up four flights of stairs in the middle of a long train of mercenary security guards was plain torture. Especially because the guards weren’t moving nearly fast enough for me.

  The counter on Dom’s life was ticking down, only I had no idea how much time he had left. Maybe days. Maybe hours. Maybe only minutes.

  The seven guards tromping up the stairwell ahead of me passed through a metal fire door and onto a terraced portion of the multitiered skyscraper’s roof, one of the guards standing with his back to the door to hold it open. Cold air tunneled in through the doorway, carrying with it misty raindrops and the thwomp-thwomp-thwomp of helicopter blades chopping through the morning fog. As soon as I stepped through the doorway, wind whipped my hair around, the rain making strands stick to my face. Supremely annoying when I couldn’t do anything about it. Damn handcuffs.

  A helicopter touched down on the helipad near the jutting-out corner of the terrace. A few seconds later, Mari jumped out. She appeared to be wearing the same bloodied and torn skirt and blouse from the previous day. At least she’d lost the tattered lab coat. She held her hair down as she jogged away from the helicopter, running in heels like it was no big deal.

  Nik followed her out onto the helipad, his long, black leather coat flapping around his legs as he took lengthy strides to catch up to Mari. He ducked slightly, the helicopter blades slicing through the air over his head.

  Seeing Nik whole and healthy eliminated one link in a whole chain of fear and dread. All Garth had been able to tell me was that Nik had been there when he’d blacked out. I felt a burst of appreciation for Nik as I realized he must’ve fought off the other Nejeret. He was likely the only reason Garth was still alive. Nik didn’t pull punches, and it dawned on me that the Nejeret might already be dead. I supposed it all depended on when exactly Mari had arrived.

  My eyes locked on Mari’s, and I took a couple steps forward, putting a negligible distance between me and the line of guards behind me, and jerked my cuffed hands upwards behind my back. I gritted my teeth against the pain as my right shoulder slipped out of its socket, but I pushed through the pain, pulling my hands over my head. The discomfort of the temporary shoulder dislocation was sharp, but brief. A bargain price to have my hands in front of me. I rolled my shoulder, making sure everything had settled back where it belonged. The joint ached, but the pain would fade quickly as it healed.

  The corner of Nik’s mouth lifted, just for a second. The movement caught my eye, and our stares met. His pale blue gaze was burning with worry. For me, I realized. Damn it, but seeing his concern for me warmed my shriveled little heart.

  “I’m fine,” I mouthed, flashing him my palm with the marbled Eye of Horus.

  His eyes
widened, relief washing over his face, and a true smirk twisted his lips. He winked, his expression going blank a moment later.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Mari said, voice raised to compete with the sound of the helicopter behind her. “You should’ve come straight here.” She waved Nik forward. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone? What if it’s already too late?”

  “It’s not,” I said, uncurling my fingers and showing them both my palm. The Eye of Horus glimmered in the pale dawn light, iridescent and inky. I didn’t bother telling her my phone had been collateral damage during my dip in the Sound. “I’m fine, but Dom’s not.”

  I looked into her eyes, searching for the woman I’d worked with so closely all those years we’d hunted rogue Nejerets together. For the woman who’d been like a sister to me. I just hoped some fragment of her remained. “He’s going to die if we don’t stick his ba back into him, and soon. Mars, there’s no reason for Dom to suffer any longer. Nik’s here, and I’m sure he’ll agree to work with you, just like you wanted.”

  My gaze flicked to Nik. He shrugged one shoulder, the movement barely perceptible.

  “All you have to do is save Dom. You’re the only one who can reunite his ba with his body.” I reached for her hand, gripping it tightly with both of mine. “Please. You have to come to the hospital with me.”

  Mari blinked, and it seemed like that was all it took for her mind to catch up and process what I was saying. She nodded once and gave my hands a squeeze. “Of course I’ll help. We can take the helicopter.” She pulled her hand free of mine and turned, jogging back to the helipad. “Fire it up!” she shouted to the pilot, waving one hand over her head in mimicry of the helicopter’s blades in motion.

  I followed her. When I reached the helicopter, I raised my arms to grip the overhead handle with both hands and lifted my right boot. Half in the helicopter’s cabin, I glanced over my shoulder.

  Nik stood a dozen paces back, his phone in his hand and his face angled downward.