by King, R. L.
By the time he came up for air and checked his watch, two hours had passed. He glanced around for Verity, spotting her working her way through the crowd toward him.
“Hey,” she said. “I’m gonna take off, okay? Don’t tell Jason—he’ll just get weird.”
“Where are you going, if I might ask?” Stone noticed the crowd of younger mages included a woman named Sharra, whom Verity had befriended earlier that year when they’d gone back East to attend the funeral of a friend killed by the Evil.
“A group of us are going clubbing for a little while,” she said. “There’s a place close to our hotel, so we’re taking a cab over. We’ll walk back when we’re done.” She grinned. “You did want me to meet other mages, right?”
He nodded. “Enjoy yourself. I know you’ve got that fake ID, and I expect you plan to use it, but I’d suggest not drinking too much. I won’t be pleased if I have to bail you out after you get potted and start tossing concussion beams around the club. Nor if you throw up in my car on the way back.” He glanced at the young mages waiting for Verity. “Call me when you get back in, all right? I know you don’t have to—I’d just like to know my apprentice hasn’t gotten into any trouble.”
“You got it,” she said. “Because I know how much you love being woken up at three in the morning. Just remember—you asked for it this time!” She patted his shoulder. “See you later.”
For the next couple hours, Stone circulated among the rest of the group, catching up on news and discussing new developments in magical study and practice. To his dismay, though, he didn’t meet anyone he was interested in leaving with. Gatherings of magical types tended to be a bit of a crapshoot as a rule: while there were certainly more than a few attractive female mages in Stone’s general age range, most of them were already married, in relationships, gay, or hopelessly strange even by his standards. For whatever reason, this particular gathering seemed to skew toward the older end of the spectrum, and while Stone often wished he’d meet someone with whom he could share a magical background (his mundane girlfriends tended to run for the hills at the first taste of the kind of oddness that usually surrounded magical types), he wasn’t prepared to look for that connection among women twenty years his senior. The only woman he’d spotted in the crowd tonight who was close to his own age, he didn’t recognize: a tall, blonde woman in a long-sleeved shirt who he thought looked vaguely familiar. He’d glimpsed her chatting with the German mage he’d been talking to earlier, but when he looked for her again later, she was gone.
By the time he said his goodbyes and drifted out through the front part of the restaurant, it was after midnight. He looked around for Jason, but didn’t see him. Stone smiled ruefully: it looked like both of his friends had made connections tonight. Good for them; he was glad somebody had. Fending off the drunken advances of two college girls in short skirts and spiked heels (he wasn’t that desperate), he headed outside into the warm night air.
From the shadows in the back corner of the bar, Trin watched Stone leave. Her cold green gaze followed him as he threaded his way through the tipsy and oversexed young crowd, somehow managing not to touch anyone despite the density at which they were packed together. She rolled her eyes as a couple of hot and scantily clad women attempted to make moves on him and he waved them off with casual disregard.
At one point, a long time ago, she’d actually been attracted to him, at least from afar. She’d never met him in person, but he was easy on the eyes and he had to be more interesting than that lovestruck puppy apprentice of his she’d been forced to seduce. She idly wondered what he’d be like in bed, and whether she looked different enough from her old self that she could risk trying to work her skills on him without him recognizing her.
If she could manage it, maybe she could kill him while they were “in the act.” Her shark smile returned as she allowed the thought to caress her brain: how exquisite it would be if she could somehow manage to combine fucking him, drinking in his terror as he realized what she had planned for him, and then draining him of his power at the moment of his death. She’d tell him who she was, of course: he would have to know why she was making him suffer. He had to know he was paying for what he’d done to her. To Miguel. To Oliver.
And he would suffer. Oh, yes.
The thought sent a frisson of pleasure through her body. She wanted it so much—she hated Alastair Stone so profoundly that she could barely control a sudden compulsion to follow him out to the parking lot and approach him, the Others’ plans be damned. Even the Other inside her saw a certain appeal in the idea for a moment, reveling in the thought of feeding from someone with the kind of power Stone could provide.
But no—they couldn’t do it yet.
They’d have their chance.
Soon.
And it would be glorious.
Chapter Five
Anna Brandt still couldn’t believe her good fortune, even today when it was actually, really, finally happening. She craned her neck from the long bench seat of the tram where she sat next to Papa, trying to catch a glimpse of Cinderella’s castle, or the Matterhorn, or even one of the costumed characters making their daily rounds through the park.
Disneyland! She was here! After all the weeks of waiting, in a few more minutes she would be inside. She didn’t actually pinch herself to prove it wasn’t all a dream, but she wanted to. And if it was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.
Anna had read everything she could about Disneyland in the two months since her mother had broken the wonderful news that they would be flying to California in the United States so she could attend a conference. Anna knew about all the rides, the attractions, the restaurants, and the characters from the books she’d checked out of the library and studied with all the zeal of a treasure hunter poring over a map. In her small backpack she carried a notebook full of meticulously written notes that plotted out the day: the order she wanted to ride the rides and which ones they simply couldn’t miss no matter how long the lines were, the restaurants she wanted to eat lunch and dinner at, ideas for souvenirs (top on the list was her own Mickey Mouse hat with her very own name stitched on it—no silly girly Minnie hat, either!—and a real Mickey Mouse watch if she could get Papa to go for it) and thoughts about which characters she wanted to try to find to get their autographs. She also had a blue-covered book labeled Autogramme tucked in there, along with three pens of various colors, in case she lost one or one ran out of ink.
“I can’t wait!” she told Papa, practically bouncing in her seat. Around her, other children were similarly excited, chattering away with their families.
He gave her an indulgent smile. “I’m sure you’ll have a great time, Princess.”
“Oh, I know I will! I’m so glad Mama wanted to come to the conference!” Like her father, Anna spoke in German. She spoke English fluently due to her studies in school, but her parents preferred that she use their native language when they were together.
At the mention of “Mama,” Papa’s face clouded over. Anna knew why, but today, for just this one time, she wasn’t going to let the problems she knew Mama and Papa were having together upset her. Just for this one day, she’d refuse to think about all the times she’d heard them having loud discussions in the front part of the house when they thought she was asleep, or the nights when Papa had stormed out and gone somewhere else. As much as hearing these things made Anna’s heart sad, and made her fear that soon her beloved Papa would be moving out to go live in some other place, for just this one day, she was determined to pretend they were all a happy family.
After all, Papa had agreed to come along on the trip so Anna could come and see her beloved Disneyland. That told her that, despite the problems he had with Mama, he loved his daughter, just like Mama did.
She clutched his hand as the tram slowed and stopped next to the front gate, grinning until it felt like her face would split in half and the top would just float
away from happiness.
This would be the best day ever—the best day in all her whole ten years. She just knew it.
Once they were through the front gates and actually inside the Magic Kingdom, Anna tried to follow her plan. She really did. But there was just so much to see. The Haunted Mansion, the first ride on her list, was so far away, and the pull of both the shops along Main Street and the towering castle in front of them caused her methodical intentions to slip. Soon, she was dragging her father this way and that, from shop to ride to attraction, in a breathless cloud of excitement that nothing, not even the pounding early-summer heat, could quell. By the time noon rolled around and they’d parked themselves at a Snow-White-themed burger place in Fantasyland, Anna had ridden Space Mountain, the Haunted Mansion, It’s a Small World (she still had that song stuck in her head), and the Jungle Cruise. She had also visited the Country Bear Jamboree and talked her father into buying her beloved Mickey Mouse hat, a T-shirt with Mickey’s face on it, a stuffed Mickey, and—wonder of wonders!—a beautiful Mickey Mouse watch with a blue band. Almost as good, she’d gotten autographs from Minnie, Dopey, Grumpy, Pluto, Sleeping Beauty, and Aladdin. She was still stalking the elusive Mickey, but the hunt was half the fun. She was confident she’d have her prize by the end of the day.
She sat now, decked out in her gear (she’d even pulled the T-shirt on over her own shirt), munching on the best hot dog she’d ever had and beaming at her father. This was indeed a magical day. The only thing that would make it better was if Mama were here, too.
She knew that wasn’t possible, though: Mama’s conference was the reason they’d come to California in the first place. Anna didn’t really understand what her mother did for a job—all she knew was that it had something to do with math, and that she worked at a university. The strange thing was, she didn’t think that was all Mama did. There had been many times when Anna had come into her mother’s study to ask her a question and found her writing all sorts of odd figures and symbols on the big whiteboard she kept in there. They sort of looked like math, but not any math Anna had ever seen, even in Mama’s books. When she’d asked Mama about it one time, she’d simply said, “You’ll understand one day, bunny. You’re not old enough yet, but one day you will be, and then I’ll share it with you. I’m looking forward to that.”
That hadn’t made any sense at all. The only guess Anna had was that maybe it had something to do with what happened when she started to become a woman. The girls at her school giggled about that sometimes, about how your body changed and you got boobs and sprouted hair in silly places. But why would that have anything to do with weird symbols on Mama’s board?
She’d tried asking Papa about it, but he’d just grumbled that he didn’t understand it either and changed the subject. That seemed weird to Anna too, since Papa was very smart. His job was a lot easier to understand: he was an architect, and designed houses. He drew all kinds of symbols all over the whiteboard in his study too, but when Anna asked him to explain them he could do it easily, showing her how each of them corresponded to part of a house design. No talk about “when you’re older.”
“You want some ice cream before we go, Princess?” Papa asked. He’d finished his burger and was gathering up the trash to throw it away.
“That would be great!” In truth, Anna was pretty full from her hot dog, fries, and soda, but you never said no to ice cream. That was just a law of the universe, kind of like how you never admitted to being tired before your bedtime.
He grinned. “That’s my girl. Tell you what: I need to use the bathroom. I’ll get you some ice cream, and you must sit here and wait for me, okay? Promise me you won’t go anywhere until I get back.”
“I promise,” she said, nodding. She had to check her notebook anyway, to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything she definitely wanted to do before they left to join Mama for dinner that evening.
He got up with the tray full of trash. “Okay. You sit here, and I’ll just be a couple of minutes.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Then we’ll go and ride the Matterhorn, so you can get good and sick, and barf up that hot dog all over whoever’s in front of you!” he added with a funny, exaggerated vomiting motion.
She giggled. She never got motion sick, and he knew it. He got her an ice cream bar (of course it was Mickey-shaped; everything around here was Mickey-shaped). She watched him work his way back through the lunch crowd toward the restrooms just outside, then turned her attention back to her notebook. She decided that the Matterhorn would indeed be fun, but that she’d also kind of like to ride Splash Mountain. Something that got them good and wet would be perfect right about now, in the midday heat.
She had finished her ice cream and was paging through her autographs, checking off the ones she’d gotten already in her notebook, when she glanced up and saw Papa returning. She tilted her head: for just a moment, something seemed off about him, like his expression was wrong, or the way he walked, or something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. But then it was gone, and he grinned at her. “Did you miss me?” he asked. He didn’t sit back down.
“Oh, terribly,” she said in an exaggerated “emoting actress” voice. She stowed her notebook and autograph book in her backpack, slung it over her shoulder, and headed off after her father.
Papa was fine with substituting Splash Mountain for the Matterhorn. Due to the sweltering afternoon and the size of the park crowds, it took them nearly an hour and a half before they got to the ride itself, and only another few minutes after that they were exiting, drenched and laughing. “That was great!” Anna cried. “I wish we could go another time, but I don’t want to wait in such a long line again. What shall we do next, Papa? We’ll have to hurry or we’ll run out of time before we have to leave!”
“Well,” Papa said, “I have some news for you.” He motioned her to follow him out of the crowd to an empty bench.
“What kind of news?” she asked, worried. Was something wrong?
“Good news,” he assured her. “I didn’t want to tell you yet, but I thought you might want to hear since we’re running behind your schedule today. First, I think it’s time we left today. It’s hot, and I’m getting tired. We should rest before we meet Mama tonight.”
Anna’s eyes got huge. “Left? But—”
“However,” Papa cut her off, still smiling, “We’re coming back tomorrow for another day. And we can stay the whole day then.”
She stared at him, hardly daring to believe what she’d just heard. “Really?” she said, breathless. “Tomorrow, too?”
“Tomorrow, too,” he said. “And we’ll stay until late, because Mama has another function for the convention tomorrow night. But you have to come back with me now, to the hotel. I need to rest for a little while before we meet Mama.”
The prospect of coming back tomorrow meant that leaving early today didn’t sound nearly as horrible as it did a couple of minutes ago. In truth, Anna did have to admit she was getting too hot and tired from all the walking. Even with all her study of the maps, she hadn’t quite put together just how big Disneyland was in the real world. Another day meant she’d have more time to explore with Papa, and maybe even see some of the things she didn’t think they’d ever have time for, like the Enchanted Tiki Room. She smiled. “That sounds wonderful,” she said. “Thanks, Papa.”
“Nothing but the best for my Princess,” he said.
They worked their way back out of the park and took the tram to their rental car. Anna settled into the passenger seat, her stuffed Mickey Mouse in her lap. Soon they were back on the freeway, and before long Anna dozed off with her head leaning against the car’s window.
When she awoke, she didn’t know where she was. She looked around, still groggy from her nap. “Papa? Are we back at the hotel yet?”
“Not yet, Princess,” he said. “We have to make a stop first. I need to pick up something. Don’t worry.
It won’t take long.”
“Okay…” she said, uncertain. They were driving through what looked like a not very nice part of town, full of big warehouses and empty buildings. “What do you need to pick up?”
“Something for Mama,” he said. “She asked me to do it on the way back.” He turned onto a side street and drove into an alley behind two of the old warehouses, then parked and got out. “Come on,” he told Anna. “Come in with me, and this will only take a couple of minutes.”
Anna did as instructed, clutching her stuffed Mickey. Suddenly she felt worried, but she didn’t know why. Why should she be? Papa was with her, and he’d said everything was fine. It wouldn’t be very good for her to act like a scared little kid after the fun time Papa had given her today. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and followed him.
Inside, the warehouse loomed big and empty. Off to the far side a metal staircase led up to what looked like a small office overlooking the main floor, but everything else was just a huge echoing space. Anna’s skin began to crawl again, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Something deep inside told her something was wrong, but she had no idea what or why. She turned around to her father. “Papa—?” she began.
But her father wasn’t the only one standing there.
Two other people had appeared where there hadn’t been anyone else before: a tall blonde woman and a young boy about her own age. They all watched her with strange expressions, like they were waiting for something to happen.
