“Okay. But don’t take long. I can hold the numbers down for a while by myself, but not forever.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. Jacob sounded like he pictured himself as the final guard of a castle, braced to hold the gate barehanded against an army. He didn’t stand a chance, but I wasn’t going to burst his bubble.
“I’ll be back as fast as possible.” I handed over the last of my spray bottles. “Good luck.”
I detoured to an eatery not connected to the food court for a to-go sandwich, wishing I’d kept a spray bottle. After three days of hunting citos, I’d never seen one jump from a host, but I didn’t want to be caught helpless if they changed tactics.
With a turkey and vegetable sandwich in one hand and a soda and a bag of chips in the other, I exited the mall. I kept an eye out for evil creatures, but I didn’t give chase to any vervet bounding between parked cars. In the grand scheme of things, racing around the parking lot to kill a few bits of evil fell far below the importance of getting more spray.
When I got into my car, I unwrapped my sandwich carefully so I could eat while I drove. Finally, I let myself think about the elephant in my head: I wasn’t going to be done early tonight. I had to let Alex know I was going to be late for our date.
“This sucks!”
11
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I thought about calling Alex, but having already done that once, a second call would look like a flaky pattern. Backing out of my spot, I headed for his office. Hopefully Jacob could handle the masses as well as he thought he could. Plus, leaving Jacob alone with oversize citos in his own region’s mall, if only for an hour, tickled my vindictive funny bone.
I scarfed both halves of the sandwich during the drive and then parked where I couldn’t be seen from the office windows so I could check my teeth in the rearview mirror before getting out of the car.
I fluttered my hands around my outfit, tugging at the V-neck sweater to settle it evenly across my breasts, wishing for more cleavage, running my hands down my jeans, wishing for clothing that looked more professional and less college student. I left my hair in a ponytail. If I took it down now, it’d be flat on top with a strange bump around my crown before frizzing into fluffy waves reminiscent of bad hippy hair. At least a ponytail tamed it. Mostly.
Patting flyaway strands around the crown of my head, I walked across the parking lot. I hadn’t worn makeup today. I didn’t, usually, but now I wished I’d at least dabbed on a little mascara. I caught my reflection in the door’s window as I reached for the handle. I looked like I felt: tired and nervous.
I just want to move the date back an hour or so. If Alex didn’t understand, then I didn’t want to date him.
But I so wanted to date him.
“How can I help you?” the receptionist asked. She was an older, round woman with an easy smile. Like everyone who worked at Love and Caring Veterinary Clinic, she wore vet scrubs.
“I’m here to see, um, Dr. Love.” After convincing myself to think of him as Alex and not Dr. Love, it sounded like I’d blundered. Surely that was the reason a blush heated my cheeks and not because I was nervous and embarrassed.
“Is he expecting you?”
“Not exactly. I’m Madison Fox. We’ve, ah, got a later appointment.” I didn’t want to tell this motherly woman we had a date; it seemed inappropriate in Alex’s workplace.
She bustled off, stopping to pat the head of a German shepherd lying on a bed behind her desk, one of his feet bandaged. He thumped his tail on the floor and watched her walk away with sad eyes. I scooted around the counter and squatted next to him. When I held my hand out for the dog to sniff, he licked my fingers and his tail started thumping again.
“Did you hurt your paw, you poor thing?” I blinked to look at the German shepherd in Primordium. His soul shone a pristine, snowy white. I scratched behind his ears, and he tried to get his back foot up to join in. “None of that, cutie. I’ve got this.”
The dog relaxed to his side, and I continued to scratch my hands through his fur. Despite Christmas Muzak piping softly through overhead speakers, the clinic’s peaceful energy bled tension from my body. Weariness surged forward. The last three days had drained me in ways three days hunting imps and vervet wouldn’t have. Being on my feet all day, dodging people, trying to blend in, hunting down creatures that were not necessarily more evil than their hosts took its toll. Even without citos, being crushed in the mall crowds for three days would have taken its toll on my spirit. Crowds were part of the reason I moved away from Berkeley; concentrations of people and pavement sucked away my will to live. I couldn’t wait for this cito gig to be over.
The German shepherd sighed and closed his eyes when I massaged down his spine.
“I think you’ve made a friend.”
I jumped and steadied myself against the wall. Dr. Love—Alex—leaned against the counter. I stared at him in Primordium a long, slow moment before I got my brain working. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
Alex’s soul flowed in beautiful smooth lines of white hardly blemished with dabs of gray. For a normal human, he was utterly delicious. I wetted my lips and forced myself to blink to normal vision.
Not that he was any less beautiful in color. Tall, with broad-shoulders, a golden tan, and kind blue eyes, Alex was the whole package. He smiled at me, tiny crow’s-feet forming at the corners of his eyes. I smiled back.
The receptionist bustled back to her seat with a discreet cough, walking between us and breaking our eye contact. Flustered, I jerked to my feet, realizing I must have looked like a lovesick fool kneeling on the floor, staring adoringly up at Alex. I pushed my hair back from my face, only to realize it was already in a ponytail, and turned the gesture into a quick tug on my hair.
“It’s nice of you to drop by,” Alex said. It must have occurred to him to wonder why I was there, because his expression turned guarded. “Is everything okay with Mr. Bond?”
“Mr. Bond? No, I mean, yes. Everything’s fine with him. I just wanted to see—ah, talk to you.”
“Oh. Okay. Come with me.”
The receptionist’s curiosity tickled my neck as I followed Alex to the back. He opened the door to a small exam room. I went through first, stepping a tad closer to him than necessary, breathing in as I did. Faint traces of cologne or aftershave bent my body toward him, but I forced myself to keep walking. Maybe later tonight I would get a chance for more than a sniff. The thought set off internal flutters.
Alex closed the door behind him. I tried to look casual and leaned against the exam table. He remained by the door.
“I’m sorry to drop in on you like this at your work,” I said.
“I don’t mind. Are you sure everything’s okay? You look kind of tired.” He presented the way out without expression. Déjà vu.
“Work’s been crazy these last few days.”
“You don’t get the weekend off?”
“Not with the holidays.” Alex thought I worked in sales at a bumper sticker company, so there was only so much I could say. But I didn’t want to talk about my job. Alex looked more reserved by the second, and I wanted his smile back. “The only thing that’s kept me going has been our date.” Saying it out loud made me blush. Alex’s arms dropped to his sides and he smiled a little, making my discomfort worth it.
“I’ve been looking forward to it, too.”
My heart somersaulted. Maybe I could get off early somehow. Maybe I could race through the mall from end to end, a spray bottle in both hands, spraying everyone I saw. If I made ten passes, I might kill all the citos. If I could get more than two steps without running into someone. If I could convince Jacob to stay late on my behalf, or another enforcer could take my place—
There were too many ifs, all completely unrealistic.
“I really don’t want to say this, but I think I need to move our date back a couple hours tonight,” I blurted out. “Everything’s so busy, and I know we’re not going to be done by seven, but
if I rush, I should be able to get out of there by eight, and then it won’t take me long to get ready, so you could meet me at eight thirty. No. Eight forty-five. We would still have time for dinner before the restaurant closed, especially if we ate at the bar, which stays open a half hour later than the restaurant.”
“Whoa, slow down.” Alex stepped away from the door and captured my hands, which had mimed my plan. His long fingers wrapped around mine, and I froze, entranced by the heat of his touch. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“Oh.” My heart pounded hard against my chest. It’s okay. I can do this. Just walk out. I had my chance and I blew it. But Alex’s body language wasn’t saying he was upset, so I clung to a shred of hope.
“I don’t want a rushed date with you.”
“Okay.” Check: One shred of hope incinerated. I took a deep breath and waited for him to release my hands.
“I don’t want to have to rush anything. You’re clearly tired already. Are you here on your lunch break?” I nodded, my hope reborn like a phoenix. The corners of my mouth curved up tremulously. Alex rubbed his thumbs in slow circles on my palms. I was glad for the support of the table I leaned against. “Let’s pick a different day.”
“But—”
“It’s okay. Really. I don’t want you falling asleep in your meal. It’d do horrible things for my self-confidence.”
I giggled—literally giggled—and he chuckled with me. “I wouldn’t want to damage your ego,” I said.
“Good. When works for you? Is tomorrow too soon?”
I grinned but shook my head.
“I know, I know. How about Friday?”
Something had to give between me and the strange surge of activity at the mall. If nothing else, Mr. Pitt would have to give me a day off.
“Friday should work.” I would have crossed my fingers, but they were still delightfully wrapped up in his warm hands.
Alex winked at me. “Third time’s the charm.”
I think it surprised him to realize he still held my hands because he started and let them go, backing away a step. My smile grew wider.
“Oh, hey. Do you have a minute before you go?” he asked.
What a silly question. “Sure.”
“Come with me.”
Alex opened the door at the back of the room and gestured for me to follow him through the cluttered workstation running behind the exam rooms. Medical supplies, scales, monitors, paperwork, and animal toys lined the counters. We rounded a corner to a much larger, open room with operating tables and gadgetry I purposely didn’t look at too closely. I’d nearly passed out when Mr. Bond had to get a shot—I didn’t want to witness anything faint-inducing.
Two other people, a woman around my age and a man slightly older, stood at the opposite end of the room examining an X-ray. They glanced our way but didn’t seem especially curious.
Alex walked to the far side of the room, where large cages lined the entire wall. Dogs and cats of all sizes and states of intoxication lay inside. Alex beelined for an empty top cage. He opened the large mesh door carefully and reached inside, coming out with a bundle of fluff; the kitten was so tiny I hadn’t seen her amid the rumpled blankets. I recognized its tabby coat right away.
“This is one I found, right?” I asked, whispering since the kitten was asleep. One of the biggest highlights last week had been saving a trio of kittens, including this diminutive fluff ball.
“Yes. The healthier ones adopted out almost immediately, but she’s still waiting.” Cupped in his large hand, the tiny kitten looked hardly a few days old. Being both the runt of the litter and malnourished had stunted her growth. Watching the gentle way Alex held the kitten, any last driblet of emotional detachment for our date evaporated. I was a sucker for men who loved animals.
Alex handed me the kitten. I cradled her close to my body. She blinked sapphire eyes at me, and a deep, rumbling purr revved inside her, almost too large for her size. I scratched her chin, and she closed her eyes in contentment. Through her staticy downy fur, I could feel her slender ribs, and her tiny head was hard and heavy compared to her thin body.
I had rescued Mr. Bond from a Dumpster when he was barely larger than this kitten. It had been love at first sight—for both of us, I liked to think. A similar stirring swirled through my chest now. Maybe it was a trick of Alex’s proximity, but I didn’t think so.
What would Mr. Bond think if I brought home another cat? Would he hate her? Hate me?
“I wanted you to see she’s doing well,” Alex said. “You probably have to get back to work, though.”
“Work. Right. I wish I could stay here all day.” Cuddling kittens and staring at Alex’s soul. Or his pecs, or his smile, or his butt.
“That’d be distracting.”
I glanced up to find Alex watching me with open warmth. My body temperature spiked. I looked away, embarrassed but pleased. Reluctantly, I slid the kitten back onto her blanket and Alex shut the cage.
The man who’d been examining the X-ray walked across the room, stopping a few feet away, clearly waiting on Alex.
“I think I can find my way out from here,” I said. “See you on Friday.”
“I’m glad you stopped by, Madison. See you soon.”
We shared a final smile that I knew would keep me energized for hours, and I walked out feeling as if a trampoline were beneath every footstep. Maybe Rose would hate me a little less if I brought this energy to her.
* * *
When I slid my key into my apartment door eight endless hours later, all traces of flirtation euphoria had leeched from me. Stepping inside, I tossed my keys into the blue bowl beside the door and bent to take off my shoes. Mr. Bond raced from the bedroom and threw himself against my legs. I ran my fingers through his silky coat, suffering through several head-butts. By the time I got my shoes off, he was happy to lead me to his empty food dish.
I warded the apartment, showered, and brushed my teeth, then fell into bed. On a normal night, I would have stayed up later, but extra sleep was the only thing that’d get me through tomorrow. Jacob and I had traveled the mall in a nonstop loop, and even then, we hadn’t gained the upper hand. We’d gone through three days’ supply of cito spray, and I’d come home only because the mall had closed.
Citos danced behind my eyelids, red and green, big and small, polka dotted, striped, and calico. I opened my eyes and stared at my ceiling.
Today had been a futile endeavor. Running around, spraying individual citos was akin to placing twigs in the gap of a splitting dam: It simply wasn’t going to hold. Jacob and I could run around all day tomorrow, but if the citos were the same size and out in the same number, we wouldn’t make a dent. Citos might not be evil, but loosing emotionally unstable hosts into our regions would be dangerous. People filled with that much anger, greed, and jealousy couldn’t help but make idiotic, atrum-tainting decisions.
Jacob was wrong about the parking garage. I knew it in my bones. The wild bundle of lux lucis and atrum had to be linked to the out-of-control citos.
I swung my legs out of bed and stood. My body was tired, but my mind wasn’t. I paced my small bedroom, then decided to get dressed rather than shiver.
The mall bordered on my region. The mystery pit could easily spill its wicked energy over to my territory, creating a mess worse than the demon. If everyone in the city became linked to a cito, their emotions amplified out of control, chaos would ensue.
I didn’t want a mess. Mr. Pitt didn’t want a mess.
I had my shoes on and jacket in hand when I realized what I was doing.
“No. I can’t. Mr. Pitt would kill me.” I tossed my jacket to the chair, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to take off my shoes and clothes and go back to bed. I needed a better look at the crater. A careful, quiet reconnaissance. If I could prove the energetic crater was linked to the bloated citos, bringing Mr. Pitt the information might give him leverage against the other wardens. He might even thank me.
My argument wa
s feeble, but two days without answers had worn down my good intention to do exactly as Mr. Pitt said. Besides, it wasn’t a lone-wolf action if it was on my own time and all I did was observe.
Shrugging into my coat, I grabbed a black beanie, my purse, and my car keys and said good-bye to Mr. Bond. He flopped dejectedly on a book I’d left on the floor.
“I’ll be back soon. I promise.” I shut the door, trying to shut the guilt inside, too. My next day off, I’d spend the whole day playing with Mr. Bond to make up for giving him so little attention lately.
None of the scant Sunday-night traffic turned with me into the deserted mall parking lot, but I kept an eye out for mall security. Fortunately, the mall was vast, and I made it from the entrance to a parking spot in the shadows of the half-built parking garage without spotting a white Securitas truck.
The skeletal garage loomed in the shadows above the lamps, plastic rustling. The structure sounded restless, like a caged animal ready to break free or like a huge beast breathing erratically.
You’re not helping yourself.
I almost climbed back into my car. Being brave had been a lot easier in the warmth of my apartment. I scanned for people or creatures in normal sight and Primordium. A cold gust blew my hair in my face, and a tapping behind me had me whirling and reaching for the Bowie knife on my belt. I let out a huge breath when I realized the sound had been nothing more than the skitter of dry leaves across the pavement. I was alone.
I slithered through the gap in the fence surrounding the construction site and hopped across the puddle-strewn mud, wincing at the echo of each squishing step. After one last glance at my car, I shoved through a slit in the plastic affixed to the towering frame of the garage.
The lights on the beams illuminated the dirt floor. I checked my shadows. None fell on the plastic to give away my position, and the grimy plastic was too thick to see through from the outside. I chaffed my hands together, and the dry rustle bounced around the interior like the soundtrack to a horror movie stalker scene. I stopped immediately. Wind moaned through the plastic, and I eased away from the agitated walls. Fumbling through my purse until my hand clamped down on the petrified wand, I yanked it free and extended it, then pushed lux lucis to its tip. I clumsily unsnapped the Bowie knife next. Weapon in each hand, I crept across the construction site.
A Fistful of Fire: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Madison Fox, Illuminant Enforcer Book 2) Page 16
