Mamacita leaned forward, put her hand behind Livvy’s neck, and pulled her close. Mamacita was strong. Her face was only inches away. Her dark eyes glowed from within, and her upper lip curled with a feral intensity that made Livvy involuntarily pull back.
“You remember,” Mamacita growled lowly. “You asked for this.” The little glass cup slapped down on the skin of Livvy’s upper chest, trapping the pendant over her heart. “Heat,” Mamacita said.
Pete flapped down and landed on the carpet. “Don’t move,” he squawked.
Livvy only flicked her eyes at him. If she wanted to move she couldn’t have. Mamacita’s grip was… Livvy realized her chest was burning. She jerked her gaze down.
“Don’t move,” Pete squawked again.
“Heat,” Mamacita said. She pushed the glass down hard and shoved Livvy back.
“It’s–” Livvy hissed.
“Don’t talk,” Pete squawked.
It’s burning! Her chest felt like it was on fire. The skin inside the rim of the glass was beet red. She could actually see it throb. Scorching pain clenched around her heart. Her mouth dropped open in a soundless scream. Both her hands clamped down on Mamacita’s arm, solid and unmovable. Mamacita tightened her grip and stood.
“Heat,” Mamacita whispered, pushing down.
Livvy arched backward over the front edge of the chair. Her heart skipped a beat. Then another. She couldn’t get a breath. Something was happening inside the glass. The round, red circle of skin was pulsing. To Livvy’s horror, it ruptured in hundreds of tiny, spreading cracks. Her entire body went rigid, muscle pulling against muscle, as Livvy watched a dark green liquid seep from the crazed ruptures in her skin. It flew upward and coated the inside of the glass, and still the heat mounted.
Livvy threw her head back as a high-pitched scream was torn from her throat.
“Don’t move!” Pete squawked loudly, launching into the air. “Don’t talk!”
But Livvy was no longer in control. Her body convulsed. The pain was blinding. The world around her dissolved. As consciousness slipped away, only one thought remained.
SK.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
SK ROUNDED THE corner into a dim, narrow alley next to Mamacita’s building and stopped. He leaned his back against the rounded bricks. His body felt heavy. He was tired. Worn out. He took the black and gold tin of cigarillos from the front pocket of his jeans. The packers had come across it in the kitchen. They had to be completely dried out. Not that he cared. He took one out and bit off the end.
With shaking hands, he took a match out of the box, struck it and promptly broke it. He took out another. He lit it and raised it to the tip of the cigar, but the shuddering flame wouldn’t line up. It burned out. He lit a third, cupped it with both hands, and managed to bring it to the cigar. But now that wouldn’t stop trembling either.
“Come on,” he muttered around the clenched nub of tobacco, just as it lit. He took a long, deep drag–then coughed. Gods, it was awful. He frowned at it and then took another shaky drag.
As he blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth, he realized a homeless person was sleeping about ten feet away. He was under some cardboard boxes, but he had a sleeping bag too. In fact, now that SK looked, he realized there were more people. It was strange how you could not see what was right in front of you.
For a moment, he pictured Liv and let the image linger. There’d be no point in trying not to think about her. He’d done nothing else for…how long had it been? He couldn’t think.
I am so tired.
He took another drag and then squatted, scraping down the rough wall. SK cocked his head at the homeless person. The man was watching him. He was lying on his side; his eyes wide open. Lifting two trembling fingers to his lips, he feigned puffing. Now SK could see the man was old, his fingers wrinkled, his nails long and dirty, the knuckles large and misshapen.
SK nodded at him and stood. He walked the short distance and handed the cigar to him. Propped up on one elbow, the man grasped it very delicately and took a puff. He exhaled long, curling threads of smoke from his nose as SK stood and took the box from his pocket.
But as he took out the matches, he realized the man in the sleeping bag was getting out of it. SK backed up a pace, gripping cigars and matches in each hand. Just then, SK realized he smelled burning. He glanced down at his hands. The homeless man was wadding up the sleeping bag, but he turned, cigar firmly in his lips, and pointed down the alley.
There were flames.
• • • • •
Though Livvy’s scream had nearly deafened her, Mamacita gripped her firmly behind the neck and kept the glass bowl on her chest. The potion was incredibly strong. An ancient recipe for sure, but in Mamacita, it had met its match. Inside the glass, the proof was evident. A dark, opalescent liquid lay quivering inside. But Mamacita glared at the minuscule amount.
Livvy’s scream abruptly cut off. Her eyes were wide, but they stared without seeing. Her pupils were hugely dilated. Her arms dropped to her sides.
“No,” Mamacita said.
She yanked off the glass cup with a sucking sound. The cracks in Livvy’s skin sealed. Mamacita let the bowl drop as Livvy collapsed back on the seat of the chair. She gripped Livvy firmly by the shoulders.
“Livvy!” she yelled. Her head lolled backward, hitting the leather cushion. “Livvy!” Mamacita yelled, shaking her.
I need to get her on the floor!
Mamacita pulled her sideways, and they both hit the carpet. Though Mamacita came down on her knees, Livvy hit on her side and sucked in a convulsive breath. The air rattled in her throat, but her lungs seemed to fill.
“Livvy!” Mamacita gasped.
Livvy gulped air and blinked her eyes, but she was breathing. Mamacita rolled her to her back. Though her face was ashen, her eyes were alert.
“Did it…is it…?” Livvy whispered.
The office door burst open.
“Fire!” SK yelled. “Hurry!”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
“DO YOU THINK Pete made it out?” SK asked quietly.
Though Livvy knew the answer, SK had asked Mamacita.
The three of them stood behind the yellow tape with everyone else. The burned out hulk of the building that used to be Mamacita’s store was still smoldering. They could nearly see through it. One of the firefighters had used the word arson. The destruction had been complete. Only the furious labor of four fire trucks had saved the neighboring structures.
“Oh, I expect so,” Mamacita said. “Pete…has that way about him.”
The lights of the last fire truck on the scene swirled chaotically across the thinning crowd. There was nothing much to see anymore. In the dark, the burnt and soot stained remnants were becoming difficult to make out. The main survivor was the enormous, metal cash register, though it lay on its side on the ground.
Livvy knew that SK was hovering near her, but he never tried to make eye contact. Instead, he had glared at the pendant and the way she still rubbed her chest. She had stayed close to him too, always aware of where he was.
“Ironic, yes?” said a familiar voice behind them. “You have too much fire, while I have none.”
“Wan-li,” Livvy said.
Whether it was the emergency lights or the haphazard bandage on Wan-li’s ear, Livvy didn’t know, but the imperious aura that usually surrounded Wan-li was gone. She went to Mamacita’s side and placed an arm around the shorter woman’s shoulders.
“Ursula!” SK said. “Shouldn’t you be in the hospital?”
Livvy turned to see Ursula squeeze his shoulder as she passed him. She embraced Mamacita with a half-hug, careful to avoid her injured side. Her arm was suspended in a dark sling.
As Ursula gave Livvy a light hug, she replied to SK. “Ursula has dealt with lead and fire before.”
“He’s right about the hospital,” Livvy said to her, though she was glad for Ursula’s embrace.
As Ursula backed away and surveyed
the damage, Livvy realized Wan-li and Ursula hadn’t come alone. The once thinning crowd was starting to grow. As the last fire engine doused its red light and pulled past them, only the illumination from the streetlight above was left. Though the faces of the surrounding women were cast into shadow, Livvy saw their pendants. Ursula, Wan-li, and everyone in the small crowd wore them. These were shamans.
Though Livvy didn’t recognize them, they knew Mamacita. Shock registered in their faces as they stared at the gutted building. But as though she were a magnet, they drew closer to Mamacita until arms and hands reached out.
“Are you all right, Mamacita?” one said.
“Where’s Pete?” said another.
Wan-li, Ursula and Livvy backed up to make room. They stepped off the curb next to SK, just as another shaman crossed the street toward them. But this one, Livvy knew.
“Dominique,” Livvy said.
In her black duster, she was barely visible. She joined them, eyeing Ursula’s sling, Wan-li’s ear, and Livvy’s eye. She surveyed the charred remains of Mamacita’s shop.
“A full-on assault,” she said, crossing her arms and taking a wide stance next to Livvy. “It’s a good sign.”
Livvy arched her eyebrows.
“Apparently you escaped unscathed,” Wan-li said, also crossing her arms.
“I’ve been too busy in the Multiverse,” Dominique replied. “You might remember it.”
“Stop it,” Livvy said. “Both of you.” The tone of her voice ended conversation everywhere. All faces turned toward her. “Do you see what they’ve done?” Livvy asked.
“Turned us against one another,” Ursula replied.
“No,” Livvy said, shaking her head. “No. Far from it.”
Livvy stepped up onto the sidewalk. As she moved to the yellow tape, the group of shamans parted for her. She lifted the barrier and ducked under. The dense smell of smoke filled her nose. Under her feet, chunks of carbon crunched loudly. Black slabs of tar from the roof had fallen everywhere. The fire had been so hot that metal had melted and clothes hangers and display rods had fused in mounded heaps. The ground under her feet was still hot.
She looked at Mamacita. “I burned this down.”
“What?” said someone in the crowd. “How could–”
“And so did you,” Livvy answered the unknown voice. “We all did.” She looked at Ursula and Wan-li. “It burned down because we were busy with business.” She looked at Dominique. “Or because we had our own lives to look after.” She glanced at SK. “Because it was easier to run away.”
The shamans stood in silhouette before her. Livvy couldn’t see their faces, and no one spoke a word. In the dimness between them, something glinted on the ground. Livvy bent to pick it up. It was a fire-cracked, quartz crystal. As she stood, she used her thumb to rub off some soot and held it up to the streetlamp. The pitted surface hardly passed any light. But as one edge of it twinkled, Livvy suddenly saw it–how the Institute could be defeated. How it had to be defeated. She grasped the crystal in her fist.
“I’m here to heal people,” she said. “And I’m done with running. Who’s with me?”
There was some scuffling of feet, and Livvy saw faces turn to one another.
“But,” someone said, “you’re talking about just a handful of us against–”
“I’m talking about war,” Livvy said.
Stunned silence settled over them. But then someone pushed through from the back.
“It’s about time,” Dominique said, as she ducked under the tape. “It’s time to turn and fight.”
“No,” Livvy said, shaking her head. “Not an attack.”
“Then what?” Wan-li asked, lifting the tape as she and Ursula passed under.
“I’m going to surrender,” Livvy declared.
There were a couple of gasps.
“You can get inside,” SK said, dipping as he passed under the yellow barrier.
“They’re overconfident,” said Ursula, catching on.
“But they’re not fools,” Mamacita said, a warning tone in her voice. “They’ll figure it out soon enough.”
Livvy nodded. “That’s where you come in,” she said to the group. “All of you.”
Though some nodded, others hesitated. They hadn’t expected this turn of events. Frankly, neither had Livvy.
“They outnumber us a hundred to one,” said someone.
“They might burn down our homes,” said another.
“Or shoot us,” said someone else.
“I know,” Livvy said.
In the dark and moonless sky above, no one had noticed the bank of clouds. Livvy hadn’t seen it, but she had sensed it. Thunderheads loomed above. A burst of light illuminated everything around them. For an instant, the jagged remains of fallen timbers jutted upward. Faces grim with determination stared at her. But the air crackled with more than electricity. Darkness returned just as quickly and a rumbling thunder rolled over them.
“Who’s with me?” Livvy asked.
Though Livvy couldn’t see who’d done it, she heard the plastic tape rip and saw it float to the ground.
“When?” Mamacita asked.
“Where?” SK said.
“Tomorrow morning,” Livvy said. She locked gazes with Dominique. “Your place.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
LIVVY LET MIN and Colin take their time. By all the gods, she knew it was a lot to take in.
When Colin had met Livvy at the door, it seemed like he might not let her in. Livvy couldn’t blame him, but Min had heard their voices. They sat together on the couch, Colin’s arm around Min’s shoulders.
For a change, Nacho circled around Livvy’s ankles. Maybe because SK wasn’t here or he sensed the tension in the room, Livvy didn’t know. But when she picked him up and held him in her lap, he purred and rolled over.
Colin shook his head again. “Just let me get this straight,” he said. “You’re saying our daughter is the next lightning shaman.”
As Livvy nodded and absently scratched Nacho, she studied Min’s face. Initially she had registered the kind of worry that seemed to border on pain. Livvy could hardly imagine the heartache. But now a quiet acceptance seemed to have spread. The gentle rubbing of her stomach had never stopped.
“What are you thinking, Minnie Mouse?” Livvy asked quietly.
Min shrugged a little. “I think I knew. I mean, every mom must think their child is special, but I think I knew.”
“She is special,” Colin insisted, as he placed his hand over Min’s.
Though they smiled at one another, his seemed forced while hers faded.
“And this business about one lightning shaman only,” Colin said, “you’re sure about that?”
Now it was Min who carefully watched Livvy. Though Livvy hadn’t gone into the grim details of how her mother had died, she’d outlined the facts.
“I’m sure,” Livvy said. “Once in a generation.”
Min’s worried eyes looked away. It ought to be a happy time for her–for both of them–and yet Livvy had changed all that. But they had to know, if only to let their daughter know, in case Livvy wasn’t here.
Min’s eyebrows furrowed and then arched as she grabbed her stomach. “She kicked,” Min said. She gave Livvy a little smile. “She does that a lot when you’re around.”
For a moment, despite everything, Livvy glimpsed the old Min. “I’ll bet she does,” Livvy said, but she wasn’t able to muster a smile.
Min’s face grew suddenly serious. She seemed to be staring right through Livvy’s chest, and her shining eyes glazed over. “You’re going to be friends,” she said. “She’s not going to kill you.”
Though Min sounded absolutely convinced, Livvy heard denial.
“It’s years in the future,” Livvy said. “There’s no point in–”
“It doesn’t matter,” Min said. “I knew something was different about our little girl, I know she won’t be your death.”
It was wishful thinking, bu
t maybe that was okay. Maybe her friend deserved that–the hope for a happy future.
Livvy gave Nacho a final few scratches. The cat carrier was still next to the front door where she and SK had left it. Livvy thought briefly of not taking him home. Change was in the air and the future had never been more uncertain. But her condo was still his home. He looked up at her as though he’d heard her thinking and she touched his little, pink nose. Besides, it’d be good to have him there.
“I should go,” Livvy said, standing and holding Nacho.
Min had started to say something but gasped and gripped her stomach again. “She doesn’t want you to go,” she finally said. “And neither do I.”
Livvy had been about to say don’t get up, but Min was already standing. Colin frowned, but quickly helped her. In the next moment, Min had thrown her arms around Livvy’s neck. With Nacho in the middle, Livvy gently hugged her back.
“I love you, Minnie Mouse,” she whispered. “You take care.”
“You saved my life, Livvy,” Min whispered in her ear. “My daughter won’t take yours.” Livvy felt the press of Min’s stomach against her. “Life is not that cruel.” Min’s voice trembled and caught, and Livvy realized she was crying. But Min pulled Livvy even closer. “You’ll see.” Min could barely get the words out. “I promise.”
Livvy’s eyes burned with tears and she could only nod. Nacho squirmed between them and they separated. They both sniffed, and as Livvy wiped her eyes, Min gave Nacho a last scratch on the top of his head.
Shaman, Lover, Warrior: An Urban Fantasy Thriller (Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Book 5) Page 20
