"Following someone? Who?"
"Athena. She's up to something, boss. All her agents told her to go fuck herself with regards to coming after you, but she took it a lot better than I would have expected."
Jaz's jaw dropped. “You're not serious."
"As a heart attack. Raven and Ben said that you were justified in what you did, and it looked as though Deryk and even Nemesis Breed agreed with them."
"But Athena didn't like it."
He shook his head. “Not one little bit."
Jaz's answering grin was nearly as wide as the imp's characteristic expression. “Good."
"You want in, boss?” He pointed at the lab's solid steel outer door. “I assume that's why you called me."
Little bugger is a lot smarter than anybody could have expected. She wasn't sure if she should be proud of that fact or not. She was fairly certain she could trust the creature, but she still found his intelligence occasionally unsettling, coming on top of his other abilities.
He reached up toward her and she leaned down to thread his hand in hers. She felt a momentary displacement and found herself sprawling back on the asphalt of the alley with an equally stunned Quickfingers. He sprang to his feet, apparently unfazed. “Wow! That was wild! Want to do it again?"
"No,” she growled, picking herself up, brushing the road grit off her jeans, and walking over to pick up the weapons case where it had tumbled some feet beyond them. “Apparently he figured out how to make the wards keep you out as well,” she observed irritably, running fingers through her bangs as she glared at the door.
The imp shrugged. “Okay. So we go in through the door."
She looked down at him, frowning. “How are we going to manage that? You have a hacker there in your non-existent pocket?"
He met her gaze with a broad wink. “I can bypass the palm lock."
He popped open the security access panel—cleverly disguised behind a ‘No Parking’ sign, smashed his relatively small, four-fingered hand onto the silvery-gray reader plate and twisted it back and forth. The door made a loud clicking sound and kicked a fraction of an inch away from the frame.
Jaz snorted as she pulled the door the rest of the way open. “Nice trick. How'd you get it to read your hand?"
"I don't have a palm print naturally—all I did was make it re-read the prints that were already there.” He paused, broad forehead wrinkling in thought. “You know, that's a good point. I do need a pocket or two, don't I?"
She paused in the doorway, eyes widening as a small khaki vest materialized around the imp's torso, its surface liberally sprinkled with pockets of varying sizes. “I'd ask how you did that, but I'm not sure I want to know. C'mon."
The imp repeated the process at the inner door while Jaz sweated out a distinct feeling of claustrophobia trapped between the two doors. As soon as the two of them had entered the small airlock-like arrangement, the outer door had slammed shut behind them.
Jaz wasn't fond of enclosed spaces. She breathed a silent sigh of relief as the second door whooshed open.
"I'm sure you can take it from here, Boss.” Quickfingers faded from view.
Great. Jaz crept down the long hallway beyond the second door, pausing to look in each door in turn. They all had small windows mounted about head level, but the first two rooms were empty but for an assortment of boxes and cartons strewn about haphazardly. Obviously Loki wasn't much of a housekeeper.
The third and final door was the one she was looking for. Loki's main lab. She peered through the little window and saw Chaz sitting in a chair with Loki leaning over him, something held between his thumb and forefinger. A dark skinned woman leaned against a stainless steel table several feet away, arms crossed, her face obscured by her thick, kinky, black hair.
* * * *
"I'm not eating that damn thing,” Chaz said, clenching his jaw shut and glaring up at the Trickster. “It looks like some kind of oceanic worm."
"That's what I modeled it on. A relatively simple life-form, easily modified to do what I want it to."
"Which is?” Chaz asked in a low growl.
"Well, once you swallow it, it'll burrow through the lining of your stomach—sealing it up behind itself—and wander around until it finds a good place to attach. Once connected to your bloodstream it will monitor your levels of memshur and release whatever's needed into your system at regular intervals."
Chaz frowned. “Like a new, self-sustaining gland."
Loki nodded happily. “Exactly! I'd originally designed them to help fight addiction in the mortal population, but it's long since occurred to me that they'd be useful for a number of purposes ... treatment of diabetes, for example."
"They still look disgusting,” Chaz muttered. “Who's the girl? You cheating on Renee?"
Loki snorted. “Do I look stupid? That's Rio—the chemist who came up with memshur in the first place."
Chaz's eyes widened in shock. “Huh. She's kinda young for that, isn't she?"
"You're asking me? You're all a little young in my book. Besides, by the time I was her age I'd accomplished a hell of a lot more than that. I had already earned my first government research grant."
Rio uttered a slightly mocking laugh, making it clear what she thought of government grants.
"Didn't you even bother to test the drug?” Chaz asked her. “Didn't you know the side effect?"
She shrugged in response. “As long as you keep taking it, you have nothing to worry about. And if you should somehow fail to continue with your daily doses, you'll quickly forget you ever took the drug in the first place, or even where you got it."
"That's cold,” Chaz remarked, obviously irritated by this admission. “What if you were arrested—or ran out of your supply? You'd be condemning everyone who took it to a fate worse than death."
"They'll never be able to arrest me.” She said it as if it were immutable, drawing a dark look from Loki.
"Never say never,” he warned. “You're not untouchable, you know."
She shrugged again. “If they actually caught me, the last thing on my mind would be the well-being of the people stupid enough to take a drug they didn't fully understand."
Chaz launched himself from the chair, only to be slammed back down by the immortal's restraining hand. “It's not worth it. Besides, she'd kick your ass."
"Goddam bitch deserves a beating."
"Maybe,” Loki responded with a shrug of his own. “But you're definitely not the one to do it.” He aimed a laser glare at the woman in question. “Stop needling him.” He held the worm up to Chaz's mouth. “Now swallow this goddam thing already, will you? Don't chew!"
Chaz snatched the thing from between his fingers and shoved it in his mouth. He pinched his face shut and swallowed, gagging reflexively as the worm slid down his throat. Beads of sweat broke out across his forehead as he fell back, jaw clenching as he fought the urge to vomit.
He panted for a few moments, then began to relax. “I hope you get what's coming to you,” he snarled in Rio's direction.
"Wealth and power?” she asked with a smirk. “Yeah, so do I."
Jaz stepped out of thin air some feet away from the others, tossing the black case aside as she brandished the throbbing crystal sword. “What the fuck is going on here?” she asked Loki, eyeing Rio suspiciously. She hadn't been able to hear the conversation but she'd gotten a definite impression of the content by observing everyone's reactions.
"We're saving Chaz's mind,” Loki answered, gaze drawn to the sword held naked in her hand. “Where'd you get that?"
"None of your business,” Jaz answered back. “Who's she?"
"That's the bitch who designed the d—” Chaz's attempt to answer was stilled by Loki's hand darting out to cover his mouth.
"Are you trying to start trouble?” Loki asked him. “Shut up.” His gaze swept over to encompass Jaz as his jaw tightened. “How'd you get in here?” he asked her angrily. “I warded the place against you and your little minion."
"N
ice try,” she snapped back, “but you're going to have to do better than that.” She wasn't about to tell him how Quickfingers had bypassed his security. She liked having a couple aces up her sleeve, especially dealing with someone as tricky as Loki. He was full of surprises. She liked being able to match that reputation with a similar one of her own.
She rotated slightly and allowed her gaze to fall entirely on Rio, who'd pushed herself away from the table and now stood some distance away from it, her stance deceptively loose. Ready for a fight, are you? Jaz felt her lips curve into a feral smile. “So you're the one putting that shit on the street, are you?"
"What if I am?” Rio's eyes flicked to the weapon in her hand as her mouth curled into a sneer. “Pretty. Are you any good with it?"
"You want to find out?"
"Not in here!” Loki hissed. “I swear, the first one of you who makes a move isn't going to like what happens."
Jaz relaxed slightly, letting the point of the katana dip toward the ground. She knew enough to trust Loki's word on that.
Rio smiled. It wasn't a friendly expression. “What—you afraid?"
"Of him? Let's just say I'm wary and leave it at that,” Jaz answered back. “You'd be wise to be a little more wary yourself."
"I'm not afraid of him,” Rio said. “He's a geek."
"So are you,” Loki put in. “You're right, though. I'm not a fighter. I wouldn't able to kick your ass. But that should make you hesitate more, not less. If I can't kick your ass—what can I do to make you regret pissing me off?"
Rio looked unconvinced.
Loki met Jaz's gaze and nodded. “You want to continue this—take it outside. You break up my lab and you won't like the punishment I come up with."
"Outside, then?” Rio asked, striding toward the door.
"You bet,” Jaz answered. “I'm right fucking behind you."
* * * *
They squared off in the alley behind the building. Rio nodded toward the weapon still clenched in Jaz's hand. “Afraid to go against me without that thing?"
"Afraid? No. But this weapon is mine. I'm not going to toss it aside for just anyone to pick up."
"Now there's a good excuse,” Rio snorted. “You want to try another?"
"Fuck you."
"Sorry ... I don't swing that way."
Jaz laughed at that. “It wasn't an offer, stupid."
"Oh. My mistake. Who the hell are you, anyway?"
"Jasmine Tashae."
Rio frowned. “Wait ... I've heard of you. Deryk Shea's protégé?"
"That's right."
"The witch?"
"Mage."
"Whatever. What's your interest in all of this?"
"Chaz is my friend. Your drug is dangerous. I think it was terribly irresponsible of you to release it onto the street like that."
"Oh, how socially conscious of you. You do realize I don't give a shit what you think, right?"
"That's rather obvious,” Jaz pointed out. “You don't give a shit what anybody thinks. That's why you deserve what's coming to you."
"And you're the one who's going to give it to me, right?"
"Right. And, no, I'm not going to put my katana aside and fight you ‘fair and square.’ If you're one of those idiots who think that fighting's a game, I'll be very happy to disabuse you of that notion."
"Oh, please. You're just a chicken-shit trying to justify herself. You aren't about to give up your only advantage."
"If that's the way you want to see it, that's okay with me."
It was Rio's turn to laugh. “Damn—you're as cold as I am. You honestly don't care what anybody else thinks, do you?"
"Should I?"
"Probably not. Listen—how ‘bout we call a truce? I didn't set out to fuck up your friend, and I've been helping Loki fix the problem. We don't have to do this."
"Is that you speaking, or just your fear of my sword?"
"I'm not afraid of your sword. I don't particularly want to get cut up by it, but I'm not afraid of it."
"My mistake. Fine—say we call a truce. Then what?"
"We go back inside and forget about all of this. We finish getting your friend fixed up and leave it at that."
"Works for me. If Chaz hadn't started doing your drug, I wouldn't have given a shit. I actually agree with you—people who take drugs without finding out what they do deserve what they get."
"I thought you might feel that way. You're just angry because your buddy was caught up in the net."
"It was stupid of him,” Jaz admitted. “But even a genius can do something stupid occasionally."
"True enough,” Rio said. She turned to head back for the lab when a whistling sound jerked her head around.
Jaz staggered back, staring at the feathered end of an arrow sprouting from her chest. She fell to her knees, eyes rolling back in her head. The katana tumbled from suddenly nerveless fingers and clattered on the asphalt beside her.
Nine
Quickfingers emerged from transit at a dead sprint. He rushed to Jaz's side and, using all of the strength hidden in his small, rotund body, prevented her from falling on the arrow embedded in her chest. The sound of feet crunching on gravel caught his attention and he looked up, past the stunned Rio. A tall, long haired figure in a motorcycle jacket carrying a compound bow and wearing a quiver of arrows on his back strode confidently toward them.
"Stop him!” Quickfingers hissed at the woman.
She whirled, instinctively falling into a combat stance. The stranger, nearly a foot taller than her, stopped and regarded her coldly. “I have no quarrel with you. Get out of my way and you won't die, too."
Quickfingers paid scant attention to this confrontation, instead wrapping his tiny hand around the arrow's shaft just behind the barbed head and giving a swift yank. The arrow slid through, trailing a thread of bloody tissue behind it. Quickfingers tossed it aside.
"Get out of my way, woman.” Avatar moved as if to skirt around Rio, but she side-stepped and placed herself between him and the downed Jaz.
"You're asking for trouble, wench.” Avatar took a step forward and ran straight into a front kick. Rio hurled herself backward, the toe of each foot taking the big man beneath the jaw in rapid succession.
Her hands slapped the pavement and she flipped back onto her feet, sliding into a ready stance and grinning up at him. “Someone's asking for trouble here, but I don't think it's me."
Avatar stumbled back, shaking his head like a wounded bear. “Shit, woman, that was unnecessary.” He rubbed his jaw and wiggled it experimentally.
"That's a matter of opinion,” she shot back. “Leave her alone."
"Ten minutes ago you two were getting ready to kill each other,” he muttered angrily. “Now you're willing to go toe-to-toe with me to protect her?"
"You got her dead-center chest,” she said. “I don't think there's much left to protect."
"I beg to differ,” Jaz said around the sound of her crystal katana scraping across the pavement. “There's plenty to protect. But I'll handle that part of it from here on out,” she told Rio. “Thanks."
"Boss ... you're hurt. And he's an immortal.” Quickfingers wrung his hands in front of him, eying her skeptically.
Avatar frowned. “How do you know that, bug?"
Quickfingers flipped him off. “Go screw a goat,” he said. “Boss. Don't do this. He'll kill you."
"He already tried,” she panted, using the sword as a means of support as she dragged herself toward him. “Tried and failed."
"So you're going to give him another chance?"
"Sure. Why not?” She seemed to gather strength from nowhere in particular, her voice growing more steady as she pulled herself entirely upright, lifting the tip of her weapon off the asphalt and holding it out in front of her.
"Your little blue friend is right,” Rio told her, stepping between her and Avatar again, “you're in no shape to take him on. Let me do it."
"You're playing with fire, woman,” Avatar growled, his
bass voice sending a chill through Jaz's body. Was Quickfingers right? Was this man an immortal? She supposed it was possible—but, if he was—it was just one more reason she had to face him. She might be a para, but she can't stand up to someone like him.
"Get lost. I don't care if you're an immortal or not. If you want her, you'll have to go through me."
"Easy enough.” Avatar lashed out with the bow, the string making a whistling sound as it cut through the air.
Rio dropped beneath it, spinning so quickly on her heel that Jaz almost didn't see what happened. Her outstretched foot caught the big man just behind the ankle and jerked it from under him, sending him crashing to the pavement even as Rio rose smoothly to her feet.
As Avatar scrambled to regain his footing, she calmly walked over and smashed the bow under her heel. “Let's see how tough you are without a weapon."
He lunged at her. She skipped aside, hammering a low kick into the center of his body as he rushed past her. He kept going, aiming not for her, but for his initial target—Jaz.
She met his charge, burying the katana in his chest up to its small, circular hand-guard. She twisted it and jerked backward, the weapon sliding out freely as the big man fell to his knees. “Bitch,” he gasped.
"Hurts, don't it?” She leaned back and kicked him full in the face. His neck snapped back and he twisted and fell onto the pavement with a strangled grunt. She flicked the blood off her katana. “Now do you mind telling me what the hell this was all about?"
"He ain't going to be doing much talking, boss,” Quickfingers said, peering down at the man's face, at the eyes staring sightlessly toward eternity. “He's dead."
"Dead? I thought you said he was an immortal."
"Yeah, well ... that sword is one of the few things that can kill them. And ... he's dead."
"Great,” she muttered. “Then he won't be answering any questions, will he?"
"Not unless you force his soul back into his body and interrogate him."
She blew a long breath out her nose and shook her head. “Forget it. It's not that goddam important."
Lady of Blades Page 12
