"She doesn't approve."
Annalise looked away. "Neither do I, but you've met the targets, have seen the inside of the rooms, and your appearance might throw him off, so you're in. You won't be much help, but we'll take every little bit we can get."
I nodded again. It occurred to me that she expected me to die in Callin's hotel room.
Of course, she knew better than I did what we were about to face. If I was going to get cold feet, this was the time for me, too. What if I died trying to find a way to undo what had happened to Jon?
The thought should have frightened me but it didn't. It's not like I had something better to do, and I owed Jon whatever I could give him. What's more, I didn't figure my life was worth all that much anyway.
The thought settled my nerves and brought clarity. It was better to decide now that I'd go all the way than it was to wait and wonder how far would suddenly be too far.
"How are you holding up?" Annalise asked.
I looked at her again. She was almost pretty, despite the tattoos and scrawny body and tattered clothes and nearly-shaved head....
Christ. I'd been in prison for too long. "I'm not sure I know how to be ready for this, but I'm in. Whatever comes up, I'm in one hundred percent."
"Good."
"One thing."
She looked up at me. "What is it?"
"No matter what happens, I want you to try to find a way to undo the spell Callin put on Jon." She frowned and looked away. I pressed on. "I know you don't think there is one. I don't care. I want you to try. Jon is one of the victims here, and I want you to help him if you can."
"Yes," she said. The expression on her pale face seemed to be full of meaning but I couldn't make it out. That made me nervous. "No guarantees, but I'll try."
I couldn't hope for better than that. "Thank you."
We stood in silence for a few minutes, feeling the chill night air while Irena fussed and muttered to herself in the back of the van.
Finally, I said: "This society I just joined...?"
"It's called the Twenty Palace Society."
"It's named after the twenty guys who started it? After their big houses, I mean?"
"Exactly," Annalise said. "They had big houses."
"And I'm a wooden man, now. Is there a story behind that term?"
"Yes."
"Would it scare the crap out of me?"
"Oh, yes."
"Thought so."
Irena slammed the van doors. "There!" she said. "I am ready." Her gym bag bulged but she carried it with ease.
As Annalise turned toward the other woman, she glanced up at me. I saw, in that single unguarded moment, a tiny smile on her face. It was only a flicker, but it was there; I was winning her over, and every step we took closer to Callin's hotel ensured that we were going there for my reasons, not for hers.
I felt a twinge of uneasiness. Yes, she was my enemy, and Jon's enemy, too. She was also a killer. I needed her to get the counter spell for Jon, and I didn't owe her a single thing. But frankly, underneath everything, I was starting to like her.
I shook that off. That had to be my loneliness talking. That, and my hunger for the spells she wore. "Are we ready?" I asked.
Annalise opened her jacket, revealing the ribbons clipped to her vest. Her clothes were thick with them. "No," she answered. "Let's get going."
We approached the hotel from behind. I was glad that we weren't going to walk through that lobby again. Annalise hadn't given me another gray ribbon, but I did have Irena's medallion. Maybe it did the same thing. Maybe it was even better. I didn't know and I doubted anyone was going to fill me in.
Two men lounging at the valet parking station eyed us as we entered but they didn't challenge us. Apathy among low-wage employees was the usually weakest link in any security system.
We entered through a glass door and passed a lounge on the right. On the left was a marble stairway. Annalise sprang lightly up them and I followed.
At the top of the first flight was a bank of elevators and a carefully-groomed young man at a desk. He only needed one glance to decide we weren't guests of the hotel.
"May I see your room keys, please?" He obviously didn't expect us to have them, but at least he was polite about it.
Annalise held up her hand. The young man looked at the white ribbon she was holding. Immediately, his eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the ground the same way my Uncle Karl had. Had Annalise used the same spell as Callin? And had she killed that man?
She knelt and dug a ring of keys out of his pocket. When she glanced up at me she seemed to read my mind. "Don't worry," she said, as she stood. "He's only sleeping."
I nodded and looked down at him. His chest seemed very still. If he was only sleeping, maybe Uncle Karl was still alive, too--still alive and hunting for me.
An elevator dinged. Irena held the door open while we entered. Annalise pressed the button for the highest floor. We didn't speak. At the top floor, Annalise led us up the stairs and used the young man's keys to unlock a security door. We all walked onto the roof of the hotel.
The eastern sky was growing light. Soon it would be day. The three of us stood at the edge of the roof and watched the sun rise. Maybe it would be the last I'd ever see.
I turned to Annalise. "Give it to me." She scowled. "Give it to me," I said again. "It's mine. It's all I have."
"It's stolen."
"I thought you needed all the help you could get."
"It's stolen."
"So what? You can take it from me later. Boss, it's all I have."
Annalise turned away and stared at the horizon. There was an uncomfortable silence.
"Raymond," Irena said, "has Annalise gone over the plan with you?"
"There's a plan?"
"We're waiting for daylight," Annalise said. "It should weaken him. You enter by the living room and run to the bedroom. He follows you. We surprise him there."
"That's it? What do I do once I get to the bedroom?"
"Oh, you won't get to the bedroom. But try. Distract him."
I looked over the edge of the roof. It was a long way to the ground. "Why aren't we going in through the door?"
"He seals it," Annalise said. "We'd have to tear open the wall to get through."
Irena set her gym bag on the gravel roof and unzipped it.
Annalise stepped away from the edge, but I moved into her path. I held out my hand. "It's all I have."
She could pick me up and throw me off the roof if she wanted to and from the flicker of anger in her expression, she looked tempted to do just that. Instead she took the ghost knife from her pocket and gave it to me.
I stepped aside as the others made their preparations, holding the ghost knife to my chest. I felt whole again, as though Annalise had just reattached my hand. Thank God I wasn't going in unarmed--I just wished I'd had time to make some steeled glass spells.
Annalise and Irena walked toward the edge of the building. Irena was pulling on fingerless gloves with sigils drawn on the palms.
"Remember," Annalise said. "The tattoos cover your front, not your back. Try to run away, and--"
"I'm not running away," I said. "He has something I want."
"It is daylight," Irena said. The sun had peeked over the mountains, flooding the city with golden daylight. Had Irena or Annalise arranged for a cloudless Seattle sky in November? Because that would have been powerful magic.
Irena turned her back to the edge of the roof and pulled a fifteen-foot-long rope from her gym bag. She held the ends together until she found the middle point, then wrapped the center of the rope around her neck. After that she handed one end of the rope to me and the other to Annalise. The ends had been knotted into loops.
Annalise stepped to the edge of the roof and slid her foot into her loop.
"Step off the roof at the same time, please," Irena said. She slung the gym bag over her shoulder.
I stood at the edge of the roof, waiting for one of them to start laughing a
nd say they were just fooling. I gripped the rope with white knuckles and looked down at the parking lot below. We were twenty stories up. I slipped my foot into the loop. You think you've paid your debt, but you haven't.
Annalise stared straight in my eyes. She wasn't scowling, as she often was. She was simply confident.
Her confidence bolstered mine. I took a deep, calming breath and made ready to throw my life away.
"On three," Irena said. "One. Two. Three."
It sounds ridiculous, but I did my best not to think about it at all. I focused on Annalise and mirrored her movements. She held her foot in the looped rope over the ledge and so did I. She bent her knees and so did I. She held the rope with both hands and so did I. She lifted her other foot, putting all her weight onto the rope and so did I.
The rope went taut around Irena's neck as I slid down the edge of the roof. It would have been a gruesome way to strangle someone, but she didn't seem to be suffering. My knees were at the level of the ledge and I fought the urge to throw my weight onto it and roll to safety. If I did that, I knew I wouldn't be able to climb back out again.
Irena bent at the waist and laid her gloved hands on the lip of the roof. The rope scraped over the corner of the roof as I slid farther down until my stomach was leaning against the edge of the roof.
Irena stepped over the edge of the roof and began to crawl down the side of the building. Her legs dangled freely, but her gloved hands held tightly to the wall. I slid lower and lower, the lip reaching the level of my armpits, then my nose, then too far above my head to touch with my fingertips.
I tried to focus on Irena, but the way the rope cinched her neck made me sick. I couldn't tell if she was strong enough to hold her airway open by flexing or if she didn't need to breathe. Along with that, the way she was lowering the three of us, slowly and carefully, as though she was descending a step ladder scared the holy hell out of me. She and Annalise were so powerful I couldn't imagine it, and they were afraid of Callin. I was outclassed here and I knew it.
I twisted back and forth, the wall scraping at my jacket. I looked at Annalise. She didn't seem frightened at all, but she could probably survive a fall like this and walk away. I would burst against the sidewalk like a bag of blood.
My panic was revving up and I knew it showed on my face. I wanted to wish it away, to squeeze it down and crush it. Panic might make me freeze or lose my hold. It might make Annalise decide she couldn't use me anymore and cut my rope.
Stop this. My imagination was feeding my fear, and I suddenly realized that it was already too strong for me. I was not going to master it.
"Ray," Annalise said. "Take a deep breath and don't look down."
I looked down.
Dizziness overwhelmed me. My knees grew weak and for a moment I couldn't tell up from down.
Annalise grabbed me and glared at me. I focused on her and slowly came back to myself.
Irena passed a balcony. Then another. Still going down. "We know where he is, don't we?" I asked.
"We do," Annalise answered. She sounded so calm and confident that I wanted to hug her.
Irena suddenly stopped. There was a balcony beside me. A little further away was a second one with the black cloth draped over the railing. That was where I'd dropped Callin's book. We were here.
"Off you go," Annalise said, taking hold of my end of the rope. "Be quick."
I reached for the balcony railing with my foot. Irena couldn't get closer to the window for fear of being seen, but I couldn't quite reach it. I tried again, leaning farther, and caught the railing with the tip of my boot.
I pulled himself closer. One foot was braced in the rope and holding most of my weight, the other rested on the edge of the railing. Callin's blinds were open, which meant I was exposed, but how was I going to transfer my weight from the rope onto the railing?
Annalise kicked me.
I might have screamed, but I didn't have the breath for it. Just as well, because I fell within the boundary of the railing, landing hard on my hands and knees.
Irena skittered along the side of the building, moving much faster without my weight. Annalise rode on both ends of the rope.
I took out my ghost knife, threw open the balcony door and charged into Callin's living room. I angled toward the bedroom, wondering what I'd do if he was blocking the hall.
Then Callin stepped out of the kitchen, an apple in his hand. "You!" he said. He snatched a towel off a rack and threw it.
In mid-flight, the towel twisted into the shape of a clawed hand. It had started already.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I twisted out of the thing's path, rolling over onto my back and landing hard on the coffee table as it swooped by. One finger of the claw caught the edge of my jacket and ripped through it like an iron spike.
I was on my back like a turtle, and the claw was tearing into the couch cushions; I'd lost track of Callin. I rolled to my knees on the carpet,
The claw rose up--it looked almost like a fancy linen napkin--and zoomed at me again. I saw something red stitched into the heel of its palm. A sigil?
I stabbed out with the ghost knife, striking hard at the stitching. The towel split apart in a burst of light, an unearthly shriek and a blossom of scalding black steam. I staggered back from the heat and saw Callin stumble and clutch at his stomach, as though breaking the sigil had hurt him.
I ran toward the hallway, then realized I'd exposed my unprotected back to Callin. I spun and backpedaled, hoping Irena and Annalise were already in the bedroom.
Callin followed me into the hallway. He looked calm, as though I was an amusing birthday card someone had sent him. I didn't wait for his next attack; I cocked my arm and threw the ghost knife. It spun flat and quick, headed straight for his heart.
Callin snatched it out of the air with the speed of a striking snake. He glanced at it, holding it between his thumb and forefinger to avoid the edge, then slid it into his breast pocket.
Oh, shit.
"My ghost knife wasn't enough for you," Callin said. The world turned white. Silence fell for a single, hesitating moment.
Then the world returned. Callin, now standing right in front of me, grabbed my throat and slammed me against the door jamb. His eyes were blood red and he leaned toward my throat.
"You had to come back for more."
Damn. I almost made it into the bedroom.
Callin halted. He looked at the side of my neck in surprise. "Annalise?" His voice sounded small, as though his feelings had been hurt.
The lights went out.
Callin released his grip on me and let me fall to the floor. I pressed my back against the wall.
I couldn't see anything at all. I could feel Callin, just inches away, but the darkness was so complete I couldn't even see his silhouette. No sunlight was visible at the end of the hall--Annalise and Irena hadn't cut the power. The darkness was too complete for that. It was as if someone had thrown a blindfold over the building.
The air stirred. Callin had moved away from me. A moment later, I heard the thud of a blunt object striking flesh. It was incredibly loud, almost like the sound I'd made when I'd struck the ground after falling from the out of the police station. Callin grunted in response.
Another tremendous thud followed quickly. Then another. In moments, the blows were following one after the other as fast as rounds from a machine gun.
The sounds suddenly stopped. Something changed in the darkness around me; it seemed to turn around in some way, as though it was now facing the opposite direction. It didn't make sense, but that was how it felt.
A moment later, the sound of the blows returned, but this time it was Irena's voice after each thud.
I was still trying to figure out what had happened when a huge, fiery sigil appeared in the darkness. It was five feet high and nearly as wide as the hallway. I caught a glimpse of Callin's face illuminated by the flowing, liquid fire.
The burning sigil floated toward the bedroom. I pressed agai
nst the wall, making myself as small as possible, but it wasn't small enough; flames from the sigil didn't touch me, but they came close enough to set my shirt on fire and sear my shoulder. Then it glided away.
I slapped at my burning clothes. For a moment I imagined that the fire would burn like napalm, unquenchable, but before that fear had a chance to take hold, the flames were already out.
The sigil was the only thing I could see in the darkness. It drifted away from me and suddenly illuminated Irena. Then it struck her, wrapped around her like a net, and the flames sank into her body.
She screamed.
The darkness receded like a wave, flowing toward the bedroom. I was still on the carpeted floor, completely exposed.
Irena was on her knees, struggling to stand. Annalise crouched beside her, trying to help her up.
Callin stood at the far end of the hall, a white cloth draped over his forearm as though he was a head waiter. There was a sigil was stitched into the cloth. He took a tiny red cloth from his vest pocket and shook it out, revealing another sigil.
A second fiery design appeared and moved toward me.
I rolled to my feet and dove into the bedroom. The twisted, burning shape missed my heel and struck the wall, scorching a huge section of wallpaper.
Annalise dragged Irena toward the balcony. Shit. We were retreating already.
I reached the balcony first. It was a long way down and I wished once again that I'd had time to make more steeled glass spells.
Irena's fingerless gloves lay discarded on the balcony. I snatched them up the way a poor man grabs at a hundred dollar bill, then pulled them on. They might be useful, at some point, in a getaway, but now wasn't the time. Annalise stood beside me now. Irena was coming around, but she was still groggy.
Callin entered the bedroom. "I wonder what the peers will say about this latest escapade. I wonder what they will do to Irena. I know the poor woman loves you like a daughter, Annalise, but she should never have trusted you."
Annalise casually tugged a ribbon off her vest and tossed it at Callin. Callin didn't move. The design stitched on his white cloth suddenly flared, and the ribbon boomeranged back to Annalise.
Twenty Palaces: A Prequel Page 15
