Blythe backed farther away from me. “No, I’m an earth witch. Sophie did this test when I was young. She said I was a low earth witch and that my problem with fire came from my lack of control and confidence.”
It was official. Sophie was a shit. “What if you’re both? Earth and Fire?”
“Only male witches can be both.”
“What? That’s bull. Who told you that? Wait.” I growled, holding up my hand. “Don’t tell me. Sophie.”
Blythe tightened her lips and reached up to yank the jeweled athame off the holder again. She slapped it into my outstretched palm. “I didn’t know you were such an expert on witches, Beri.”
I sighed. “I was two years old when some tourists found me next to a dead alligator in the middle of the Big Cypress Swamp. I had blood on my hands. What kind of two-year-old kills an alligator with her bare hands, eh? So, I started investigating creatures and magic early. I’ve been at this a long time. You pick up a few things.”
“Not that much, or you would have known what kind of knife that is.”
I smiled. “Guess I pay more attention to things that breathe.”
She still wouldn’t meet my eyes. She shuffled the point of one peach shoe back and forth on the floor. I found myself thankful that we didn’t have the mix of spilled herbs back here. I could still smell them from the front of the store. Pungent—sage, cloves and something sharper, darker. She finally sighed and offered me a sweet smile. “I really do want you to have the knife. I can tell it’s supposed to be yours, which means our meeting was preordained. And red signifies more than just fire. It’s also the color of blood. It’s vital and can help you focus on survival when you come upon more of the Dweller Demons. It helps to keep you from being afraid.”
There was no hesitation in her gift, so I accepted it. “Thanks. I’ll take good care of it. Promise.” I eyed the length of the blade. Where the hell was I going to put this thing? One just did not go parading around the city with a knife like this dangling from their belt.
Phro must have figured out what I was thinking. She disappeared and reappeared next to Blythe. “Stick it down the back of your pants. Have the twit spell it so it’s dull until whipped out.”
Blythe’s nostrils flared. She turned toward Phro and put her hands on her hips. “I’ve told you I can hear you. Do you think it’s funny to call people names?”
“Yeah.”
Blythe sputtered, then rolled her eyes. “Forget it.” She walked toward the room behind the counter. “I can lift the book, but it’s too heavy to carry all the way to your Jeep. We might need a push cart or something. Oh, and I have a couple of special-sized sheathes that might work. One even has a pretty pink drawstring.”
I buried my face in my hands as Phro and Fred laughed. Like a drawstring made sense when you needed to whip out your weapon. But she was being sweet and generous, so I held my tongue. I looked at the athame again and sighed. It really was pretty. I didn’t usually give a flying leap about pretty but this also sported a wickedly sharp blade, so it was cool.
I followed Blythe into the back room to help with the book. She hadn’t realized I could carry it.
We grabbed McDonald’s biscuits on the way. I expected Blythe to reject even the mention of fast food, but she didn’t say anything other than “egg, bacon and cheese.” I got us each one in the meal deal and hit the coffee first thing. Fast food coffee was always wonderfully strong. The hot, acidic slide of it down my throat made me sigh with pleasure.
Blythe was right. The book was damned heavy. It was also wrapped tightly in a deep purple cloth. I’d wanted to open it and take a good look, but instead had placed it on the back seat. Since I planned to break into Nikolos’s store, I needed to get a move on. Wanted to snoop without his distracting presence. Maybe find his last name and home address. Maybe find some other, more interesting things. The more I thought about those trapped souls around him, the more suspicious I became.
I held the biscuit with my right hand and steered with the left. I enjoyed this early hour drive much more than I had the last one. This time, with the sun barely breaking the surface of the horizon, a soft haze filtered everything. Didn’t matter how icky certain parts of the city were, that kind of fuzzy morning light washed it all pretty.
Taking a bite of the warm biscuit, I relished the salty bacon flavor and glanced over to see that Blythe had already eaten most of hers. The witch had her eyes closed and was obviously enjoying the food. I made a mental note to make sure we ate a little more often.
It didn’t take long to find Labyrinth Antiques. We’d brought along Blythe’s phone book, and Nikolos had a nice, fat ad in the yellow pages. One with a small map in the corner.
“Nice place,” I said after swallowing the last bite of egg. I drove past and took a good look at it. It had a faint Spanish colonial feel with its adobe brick and flat, dark orange-tile roof. Not what I would have expected from the man, but he probably rented the space.
Luckily, it was too early for most of the local places to be open so hopefully no one would see us break in. But I didn’t want to leave my bullseye-red Jeep anywhere close either. I found an open grocery store down the street, so we parked there. Before we got out, I wiped my hands on a paper napkin and glanced into the rearview mirror at Frida. He was sitting a little straighter, and though his eyes were on Phro as usual, they didn’t have the flickering hostility of earlier. Good.
I turned to Blythe. “I’m breaking in. You have a problem with that?”
“Why can’t we just wait for him to let us in?” She crumpled her own napkin and placed it daintily in her bag.
“Because I don’t trust him. Do you?”
She shrugged. “Kind of. I shouldn’t. Not with that aura of his, but for some reason I do. I have a sense about people usually and I think he’s one of those really good, hero types. He just seems really, really sad.”
Anyone would, carrying the kind of baggage he had. I chewed my lower lip, stared at the people going in and out of the grocery store. People going about their normal, everyday lives—most ignorant of the undercurrent of danger permeating the air. I felt it as strongly as I had before Elsa called me that last time. It had only been a couple of days, but it seemed like forever since I’d agreed to come up here.
“Why do you think he took off like that last night?” Blythe asked.
Again, I saw his last expression. Goddess, even the memory of it ripped into my guts. Something about the ankhs, obviously. He and I had a connection, and I was certain he knew more than he let on. “Phro told me he’s thousands of years old.”
Blythe blinked, her mouth falling open. “But the only creatures that old are vampires and elves.”
“And demons.”
“You think he’s a demon?” She shook her head—hugged her bag tighter to her chest. “No, he’s dark and he has something wrong or his aura wouldn’t be smudged like it is, but I don’t think he’s a demon.”
“I was just saying they’re old, too—never mind.” I grabbed my coffee and swallowed the last bit—grimacing at the cold, bitter flavor. “You heard him ask why we traveled with the Goddess of Love?”
She nodded, her lips twitching. “I did. I don’t believe it. She’s too rude.”
Phro made kissy noises from the backseat.
We both ignored her.
“She’s been telling me that’s who she is for years, but I didn’t really believe her. Seriously, why would the Goddess of Love hang out with someone like me? But she’s been right about a lot of things and I think she’s right about this. She said Nikolos was a warrior on Crete, a famous, bloodthirsty murderer.”
“No. I don’t believe that.”
“It’s certainly possible. Been a long time, and people can change.”
“If he’s been alive that long, he’s not a person. But—”
I waited when she broke off. “But what?”
“He’s like you.”
I nodded. “Somehow he is. I think so, too.”
Someone honked and we both jumped. Blythe laughed nervously. “We might as well get this over with.”
Grinning, I stepped from the Jeep and locked it. I adjusted my floppy, black hat and opened the back door to heft the book into my arms. The wound on my arm complained with the movement, but not nearly as much as I’d expected. Seems Blythe had a knack with healing.
“You plan to break in with that?” Blythe stopped beside me and pushed up one gray sleeve.
“You really think that ghoul is the only thing looking for it?”
She didn’t answer, just started walking. I had to carry the damned thing with both arms—it was that heavy. I was dying to see what kind of information it held. A lot of magic books had sturdy covers to help protect the precious pages inside, but this one felt over an inch thick. I felt the shape of a tie holding it closed. Probably leather.
Sweat broke out over my back as the sun rose. Traffic was already picking up and for an instant I wished for salty air and the sound of an ocean instead of greasy exhaust and rumbling engines. I could, however, smell something faintly yeasty, like doughnuts. My mouth watered. Should have eaten two biscuits.
Nikolos’s store stood a little ways from the three around it. His was one story while two of the others were several, so they threw shadows into the alley that linked the stores together. I sighed with relief when we walked into those shadows. It wasn’t that the sun was that hot yet, but I still had on the jacket and carrying the heavy book took some effort.
I was all set to bash my way through an expensive alarm system, but nearly dropped the book when I saw he had nothing more than a regular deadbolt lock on the back door. I set the book on the concrete, leaning it on the wall, and frowned at Blythe.
“You’d think someone who’d lived as long as he has would have better security.”
She cocked her head. “I think he does. Do you feel that?”
“What?”
“Magic.”
Normally, I did. Faintly alarmed that I hadn’t felt anything out of the ordinary, I narrowed my eyes and focused on separating the dimensions. Just a little peek. I was beginning the first layer when it felt like a door slammed into my face. Startled, I took a few steps back, then sucked in a deep breath, refocused and tried again. The outline of the red back door shimmered, then rippled like it was made of liquid before it snapped solid again.
Whoa.
This was new. Faintly impressed, I eyed the door for a second before shrugging. I grinned at Blythe, ran at the barrier and kicked my way in. Felt good.
Until I got zapped.
Chapter Nine
I’m not above breaking and entering—not when the situation calls for it. I’ve done it before. The zap was new.
I staggered to the book, hefted it, then put one foot carefully over the threshold. As I did, I touched some kind of invisible barrier that felt like living air—slightly thicker than regular air and tingly. It clung to my skin like plastic wrap.
Grimacing, I stopped moving and waited, but the feeling went away. Keeping my ears peeled for any unusual sounds that might prove we weren’t alone, I took a few more steps and concentrated on opening up my senses to Nikolos.
He wasn’t here.
“I feel so bad doing this,” Blythe hissed.
I rolled my eyes then nodded toward the other door in the small back room. She opened it for me. We walked farther into what was obviously the storage area. Large framed paintings rested in stacks against the wall next to a beautiful set of yellow Victorian parlor chairs. There was also a red spindle-backed bench. He had a lot of shelves back here and my fingers itched to toss the book and explore the pottery crowding their surfaces. Very, very old pottery from the looks of it.
We went out into the main area of the store and the place—like the man himself—was a sensory overload, with lots of rich, dark woods on the walls as well as part of the furniture. Colorful tapestries in brilliant, robust reds, blues and golds graced the walls between canvassed art. Silver bowls, vases and tea sets nestled in amongst upholstered cushions and odd collectibles.
The air smelled faintly of copper, vanilla and—my nose wrinkled—burnt rubber. Weird.
I’d expected his office to be near the back door, so I moved farther into the room only to realize he’d broken the whole place into several spaces. From there, I could peek into the next room and see shadowy hallways leading into two other areas.
I felt the stares before I saw them. I don’t like antique shops for a reason. Turning, I met the stare of the spirit of an old man and saw his expression light up when he realized I could see him.
Just then, Phro poked her head around a corner and whistled. “Old as Nikolos is, I bet a lot of this stuff is one-owner.”
Fred nodded as he eyed a Chippendale secretary. “Worth a small fortune, too.”
The old man’s spirit had started following Phro and I was swallowing a grin right about the time my gaze snagged on a glass case in the corner. I slowly walked toward it. “Do you guys realize what that is?” I pointed to the ivory battle horn inside, knowing my voice had risen to a high-pitch in excitement. “Do you have any idea how extraordinary this is?”
Blythe scurried to put her hands on the glass. “I’ve only read about these things or seen them in books. It’s an olyphant. Think it’s as old as we’re thinking?”
“Looks like it. Phro?”
She’d already looked and dismissed it to inspect a goddess statue that eerily resembled her with its long hair and thin, muscular body. “It’s real. You know, Bergdis, if you sold one of those, it’d be no more stinky marshes and shrimp. Ever.”
I touched the tip of my tongue to an incisor and glared at her. She merely chuckled, sneered at the statue and wandered into the next room. The spirit followed. He wasn’t the only one either. Five or six of them dogged her steps, drawn to her otherworldliness. She was in their dimension but not like them. Happened every single time we went into places like this one. These spirits weren’t as traumatized as the ones in hospitals, so they inevitably clung to the goddess.
“I feel so bad doing this.” Blythe still stared at the battle horn, but her small shoulders had slumped. Looked pathetic.
“If you’re gonna hang with me, you have to deal. This is the best way to learn about the man.”
“You really think he keeps anything revealing in his place of business? That wouldn’t be too smart, would it?”
I shifted the book to my other arm. Glanced at it. Smiled.
“Oh well, I never said I was smart.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I knew a man like Nikolos once.”
I walked toward the other room with the hallways. “What do you mean like him?” I skirted a round walnut table.
“Sad. He lost his whole family in a fire and tried to fill his life with magic. Only his mindset was so bad, he ended up turning to dark magic. His aura had all these icky dark colors. But the worst was when he lost control. He nearly obliterated an entire town in Nova Scotia.”
I stopped walking and she ran into me. “What does this have to do with Nikolos? Or are you blabbering because you’re nervous?”
She sighed and pushed me away. “My point is that sometimes people turn to dark forces when they’re broken inside. Sometimes they can’t help themselves. We shouldn’t be quick to judge Nikolos just because of the black around him. It’s possible that he’s so sad his aura turned that color. Have you thought about the things a man of his age would have seen? Lived through?”
Yeah, I had. I didn’t answer her, though. I was too busy paying attention to the rapidly thickening air. It was crawling again, as it had when we’d first come inside—only it was worse. I stared at the dark hallway and noticed a slight shimmer. Reaching out, I touched another barrier. Couldn’t see it, but I wouldn’t be walking through this one. “This is a ward. This place is warded.”
Blythe nodded. “The whole place is.”
“And you were going to tell me this when?” Complete and u
tter frustration made the urge to throttle her so strong, I curled the fingers of both hands around the book and turned the full power of my glare on her.
She shuffled a little to one side. Then the other. “I’m sorry. You said you can feel magic so I thought you knew.”
“I can feel when a person has magic. I can sometimes taste magic in the air. But this?” I hefted the book to one arm and banged my hand on the invisible thing.
“You probably shouldn’t be touching it, much less hitting it.”
Her warning came too late. Electricity zapped into my body and traveled throughout my entire nervous system with the force of a tsunami. I gasped as my knees crumbled and I dropped the book. Quickly putting my back to the closest wall, I leaned over and pulled air deep into my suddenly-bruised lungs. It took me several seconds and deep breaths to bring my body back to some semblance of order. “Shit, that hurt. Do you smell something burning?” I patted my hands over my body.
“The magic probably singed your nose hairs coming out. It had to find an opening—kind of like electricity does. Be glad it picked your nose.”
I curled my lip, pain rattling my chest and arms even as I tried to make sense of that. “Nice. Real nice.” I stood on jelly legs, still leaning against the wall. The wound in my arm started throbbing a bit more. “You’d think he would have warded the entire store. That’s a lot of expensive stuff out there.”
“He did. I’ve been dispelling them. Didn’t you feel the one when you broke down the door? You couldn’t have walked through it if I hadn’t been working to get rid of it. I have this cool spell that—”
I held up my hand. “You mean, you took care of a ward outside before we even came in?” I looked around the room. “You did magic and there are no fires?” I thought about that burnt rubber smell and started to worry.
Her jaw went taut. “I don’t always set things on fire. Besides, he’d used a fire ward so anything I did cancelled it out.”
Dweller on the Threshold Page 13
