Mamacita covered her mouth. “Livvy,” she whispered.
• • • • •
Water Baby, Master of Animals, and now thief, SK thought. He stretched up to the lowest rung of the fire escape ladder, but he missed it by a few inches.
“Damn,” he muttered, as he grabbed the handle of his own ladder again.
It wobbled, forcing him to grip it with both hands. He’d placed it on the scraped roof of the BMW, which wasn’t exactly solid. Now it was also dented and uneven. Another check of the narrow alley verified it was still empty. But it was only a matter of time before someone saw him.
Liv must already be inside.
He reached up again and stood on his tiptoes. The stepladder rocked. He bent forward and grabbed its handle, but nearly pitched himself right over it.
“Whoa,” he said, balancing and hanging on for his life. When the teetering stopped, he glared up at the rung, which was a good two feet over his head.
How in the hell am I going to do this?
He had no idea. But however it was going to get done, it had to get done quickly. He needed to get inside. The window at the third floor looked impossibly far away, and yet that’s where he needed to be–Liv’s old apartment. His teeth ground at the thought of seeing them together. It was the last place he wanted to be. But she’d asked him to do this, and he was going to do it.
Because she trusts me. Because I’ll find a way to get this done. He looked up at the fire escape, hands on hips. And because there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. Even now.
He blew out an exasperated sigh. There was nothing for it. He crouched low, made sure of his footing, and stretched out his arms for balance. Then he jumped.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
MIN ROLLED ONTO her back and raised her knees. The contractions weren’t going away.
“Colly?” she said.
Several minutes had already gone by, but she breathed slowly and calmly. The baby is coming. Though she’d never had contractions and it was two months too early, Min knew. She’s coming. Min checked the time on the alarm clock just as the red numbers flickered, flared bright, and then died. She picked up her cell phone. It was dead.
“Colly?” she said again and shook him a little by the shoulder.
He jerked awake so hard the entire mattress bounced. “What?” he blurted out, staring at the bedroom door, then the window, and then her. “What is it?”
“It’s the baby,” Min said. “She’s coming.”
“The baby?” he said, staring at her stomach. “The baby?” he said, his face contorting in panic and confusion.
“It’s okay,” Min said, reaching for him, but he flew out of the bed.
“The baby’s coming!” he said to no one in particular. “The baby’s coming!” He bumped into the dresser.
“Colin,” Min said, flipping off the covers. “Get my robe and find your keys.”
“Get your robe!” he said as he ran to the closet and slammed the sliding door open.
Min would have tried to help him, but the time between contractions was getting shorter. She slipped bare feet into a pair of pink bunny slippers. As she stood, she wrapped a hand across the front of her stomach. She heard a little ‘tink’ inside the lampshade on the nightstand. She knew without seeing it that the bulb had burned out.
“Find my keys!” Colin said, rushing back to the dresser with her robe, the hanger dangling from its neck.
Min made her way to the bedroom door.
“Let’s go,” she said. “Help me down the stairs.”
He was instantly at her side, shoulder under her arm, holding her tight. She clutched him as they made their way to the top of the stairs. Colin flicked on the light switch. Though the hallway light came on, it buzzed loudly and then went dark. Colin seemed not to have noticed, but where her fingers held her stomach, Min thought she saw a faint glow.
They carefully took the first step down and then the next.
“We’ll be at the hospital in no time,” Colin said.
Min was relieved to hear his voice calmer. “We’re not going to the hospital,” she said.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
IT’D BEEN MONTHS since he’d been to the gym, but SK did a chin-up as if his life depended on it. Which it might, he thought as the ladder below him toppled. As his legs swung, he gripped the ladder rung and pulled. The distance from one step to the next was huge and his fingers barely had the length to get a good grip, but he used the momentum of his swing to pull higher. He shot one hand up to the second rung and latched onto it. Then he managed to get his other hand up to join it. One more rung and he might be able to get his foot up to help.
If he could do another rung.
The metal rods were not only thick but also dirty. He paused for a moment, breathing hard, his hands sweaty. On the ground below, the ladder lay on its side next to the car. The higher he went, the longer he had to fall. It was already a good dozen feet or so.
Stop looking and just go.
He swung his feet forward and then back, jackknifed at the waist, and pulled. As the second rung passed in front of his face, his right hand found the third rung, but the left one missed.
His chin hit the ladder and his right arm twisted.
The fingers of his right hand screamed in protest, but somehow he managed to hold on. As his body slowly rotated back toward the ladder, SK had to wait. But as the turning ended, he swung his left arm in an arc over his head, grunted, and pulled with his right. With a metallic thud, his left hand landed on the rung, but he didn’t pause. His fingers were slipping. There was grime or oil or something else that was slippery on the rung, the reason he’d lost his grip in the first place. He hiked his right foot up and got a toehold, but he had no leverage. Hurriedly, as his fingers slipped, he did yet another pull-up. He managed to stand, his left foot landing next to the right, just as his left hand slipped off again. With a loud grunt, he thrust his torso through the ladder and flung his elbows out.
Like a stranded fish, he gasped for air. He wiped his hands on his jeans and pulled his head and shoulders back out and climbed. In moments he was past the handrail of the first fire escape landing. He swung himself around the ladder, felt his shirt catch for a second and then heard it rip. He stepped unsteadily onto the handrail and jumped down to the metal floor. Panting, he looked up the stairs. He ran, the soft rubber of his tennis shoes lightly thumping. But as he reached the third floor, a giant drop of water hit him. Then another.
Rain?
Though the sky had been perfectly clear when he’d parked, now there were clouds. The thick mass above the Institute hung black and low. Lightning flashed inside, momentarily blinding him, as thunder pealed loudly, directly overhead.
SK flattened his back to the building. For more reasons than one, it was time to find Liv.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
IN THE SNOWY Underworld, Livvy’s stomach tensed. As if the horde of shamans wasn’t enough, the Stone of Alatyr was nowhere to be seen.
“Valentin,” Brad said, his voice strained. “What’s going on?”
He was gawking at the multi-color sea of Siberians in their robes and caps. They covered nearly the entire tundra.
“Sidirov,” Valentin hissed.
Every shaman in the Institute, Livvy thought grimly. Apparently Valentin wasn’t the only one who’d been ready. The moment they’d come through the lake, it’d been obvious. Every face had turned to them–to her–and not a single client was in sight. She and Valentin had both instinctively put their backs to Brad, shielding him. As the three of them moved sideways through the snow, in the direction of the forest, the horde tentatively moved with them and drew closer.
Brad hesitated. “No,” he said, clutching Valentin’s arm. “Not the forest.”
Clouds swept across the sky as though a curtain had been drawn. Several of the shamans looked up, their mouths hanging open. Livvy knew their shock would buy some time.
At the forest’s edge, Blanca burst f
rom the cover of the trees. The white mountain lion surged at full speed, a blur that could barely be seen, though some of the shamans felt her pass. But behind her lumbered an enormous beast that was only too easy to see. The great black bear galloped along, scattering shamans and their diminutive spirit helpers. A giant gray wolf sprinted in its wake.
“I need the Stone,” Livvy said over her shoulder. “I can end this if I have the Stone!”
Thunder rolled in muted bass booms overhead, and lightning danced in the sky.
“No!” Brad yelled, still tugging Valentin’s arm.
Blanca arrived in front of Livvy and wasted no time baring her teeth at the mob.
“Valentin!” Livvy said. His icy glare met hers. “The Stone. For Brad’s sake. For everyone’s sake.”
The bear loped to a heavy stop next to Brad, its head nearly as tall as hers. Blanca glided between Livvy and the snuffling creature. The gray wolf paced nervously behind Valentin, its coat bristling and puffed up. Blanca lowered her head, and a low guttural growl rose in her throat.
“They want you, Lightning Shaman,” Valentin said. He took hold of Brad’s hand and backed away from her. “Not us!”
The closest shamans were readying their attacks.
“What are you doing?” Brad demanded, trying to free his hand. “We can’t leave her!”
Despite Valentin’s attempt to put distance between himself and Livvy, they were being flanked from all sides. In another few moments they’d be surrounded.
“I know everything,” Livvy said to him. “Just give me the Stone!”
Valentin glanced at the black bear, and they seemed to exchange a look.
“Tell them to stop!” Brad yelled at Valentin. “It’s not supposed to be like this!”
Although fear filled the faces of the Siberian shamans, their sheer numbers must have made them bold. A fireball materialized in front of one of them and a second in front of another. Livvy raised her hand to the clouds. Lightning flashed like a chain of fireworks and thunder shook the air.
“Now or never, Valentin,” Livvy said. “Where is the Stone?”
Valentin hesitated and the moment was gone. From the left, a wall of white flurries was rapidly rising from the ground as a pressure wave pushed at them. From the right, two fireballs hurtled inbound.
Livvy looked up to the sky. “Lightning,” she said.
• • • • •
The window at the third floor fire escape was painted shut. Though SK had a pocketknife, he didn’t bother to bring it out. He didn’t have time to chip paint. Inside and down the hall, he could see Liv’s old apartment.
Lightning reflected brightly off the glass, and thunder rattled the thin panes. It was a single hung window, taller than him. He needed to get it open. Another lightning strike flashed, but instead of a peal of thunder, there was an explosion.
That was the roof!
Now the thunder roared, drowning out every other sound, as the rain bucketed down.
I’m out of time.
Now he did take out the knife, but he didn’t open it. Instead, as rain pelted him, he turned his back to the window, swung the pocketknife as hard as he could, and heard the glass shatter. Though something sharp bit into his forearm, he ignored it. The window was nearly broken out. As he knocked a couple of hanging shards into the corridor, he saw a two-inch gash on his arm. As he leaped down through the opening, glass crunched beneath his feet. For all he knew it was stuck in the soles of his shoes, but he didn’t pause to look. Instead, he ran the short distance to Liv’s door and threw it open.
“Liv!” he said, leaping over a man he didn’t recognize.
With their heads toward the small kitchen on the right, all of them wore goggles that were networked to a box next to the linoleum. The tables had been pushed out of the way. SK jumped over Brad and landed next to Liv’s side, crouching. He became still and concentrated. Her diaphragm flexed quickly. Her jugular pulsed. Her nostrils flared. The barest sheen of sweat glistened on her brow. He’d arrived just in time. He reached for her–and stopped.
That’s not why I’m here.
He tore his gaze away from her and looked at the meteorite on the far side of the room. Except it wasn’t the meteorite he saw, it was a metal case.
“What?” he said.
He raced to the pedestal. With both hands, he gripped the leather handle and yanked. It slid off the top of the Plexiglas column and landed in a controlled crash on the floor, taking him with it. Though heavy, it still wasn’t quite as leaden as he’d anticipated–as he’d feared. He scrambled to his feet and hauled the case upright. Though he had a clear line to the door, he hesitated and watched Liv.
What’s happening in the Multiverse?
Before he knew it, he’d dragged the case to her side and knelt. He looked down at her face, her lips, and saw the quickening of her breaths. As if the weather weren’t enough of a clue, he knew something was going on. Sweat had mixed with the dried blood at the gash in her eyebrow. The mix glistened in tiny pink beads.
“Liv,” he muttered.
He still grasped the handle of the ancient case. He half stood. He was supposed to take it. That’s why he was here–wasn’t it? Isn’t that why I came? He couldn’t take his eyes from her face. He knew he had to go, but he couldn’t make his feet move.
He shook his head. “No,” he said, kneeling. “The Stone is not why I came.” He put his hand on hers, producing a bright and tingling purple spark. “I’m here, Liv.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
“MIN, PLEASE!” COLIN pleaded. “Look at this!”
The windshield wipers couldn’t keep up with the downpour. Colin was driving way below the speed limit. It was as though they were pushing through a waterfall, but the Institute was just ahead.
“I have to see Livvy,” she said, for what had to be the tenth time.
“You don’t even know if she’s here!” he yelled, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
She opened the door.
“Wait!” he screamed. “For godssakes, wait!”
The car jolted to a stop in one of the handicap spaces. Min unfastened her seat belt, but Colin grabbed her hand.
“We need a hospital,” he said again, his voice strained and controlled.
“Don’t you think I know that?” she replied.
On the short but frantic drive, it had dawned on Colin the baby was early–way early. He’d insisted on a doctor. An infant ICU. Something. And Min had agreed, as soon as they saw Livvy. Nothing in the world was more important. Only the glimmer around her stomach had convinced him. But if she’d had to, she’d have threatened to jump out of the car.
“I can’t explain it!” Min said loudly over the drumming of the pounding raindrops. She hung on to his hand with both of hers. “But we need to see Livvy. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life!”
Like the needle of a compass, Min couldn’t turn away. She’d have crawled here if she had to; the compulsion was overwhelming.
The baby felt as though she was trying to turn, and Min was seized with another contraction. She shoved the car door out of her way.
Colin jumped out his door, ran around the front of the car, and helped her out.
“We see her and we leave,” he yelled over the pelting rain. “Promise?”
“Promise,” she said through clenched teeth, but she’d have said anything.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
IN THE UNDERWORLD, Livvy saw multiple lightning strikes rain down. Though Brad cowered low, Valentin stood still and watched her. Writhing purple bolts blazed momentarily in a wide circle surrounding them. The fireballs snuffed out against it, and the pressure wave was dissipated. The ground where they’d landed gave way in concussive explosions and Livvy let the electricity recede into the sky. Siberian shamans flew in every direction, thrown by the shock wave. Foxes, squirrels, and groundhogs swarmed everywhere–the spirit helpers as chaotic and uncoordinated as their shamans. Small birds wheeled erraticall
y in the sky.
In the distance, bodies were being flattened to the ground. Another pressure attack was coming but this time larger. At the back, three women stood together, holding hands. More shamans were slammed into the ground as it rolled over the top of them.
These shamans have no control.
Though Livvy stretched out her hand to the invisible approaching surge, she paused and waited for a second. Then she spread her fingers. “Wind,” she said.
A torrent of air rushed forward. As pressure wave and wind collided, Livvy closed her hand. Above the heads of the crowd, a vacuum formed. Silk caps were sucked up en masse and wadded into a ball. When Livvy opened her hand, the clump of hats dropped to the snow with a thud.
Without warning, the earth beneath her feet jerked and quaked, turning into a powerful tremor. Though Blanca hugged the ground, Livvy toppled to her knees. The wolf fell on its stomach, legs splayed out, and Valentin went down on top of Brad. Only the bear kept its feet. Though the earthquake was strong, it was short. Whoever had created it had been unable to sustain it. Instead, it was replaced with an ear-piercing wail.
Livvy covered her ears and jumped to her feet as Blanca roared. The horde had surrounded them. A fireball erupted far to Livvy’s right. Another quake began. Shamans in front of her were being thrust to the ground. The entire throng was pressing closer, flowing in constant movement. A lightning strike was sure to land on someone. There were simply too many of them.
She thrust both hands to the sky. “Whirlwind,” she said.
A funnel spiked downward from the clouds, directly over her and Blanca. The wind poured down, rushed outward, and spun. Livvy formed a circle with her hands and lowered them in front of her. She and Blanca now stood at the center of a small tornado. The fireballs smeared sideways. The sonic attack was stripped away by the gale. But the new quake had yet to peak. Still cupping a circle, Livvy spread her hands outward and the funnel widened. Any shaman or spirit helper who was within reach of the cyclone was lifted from their feet. They levitated for a brief instant before the twister swept them away.
Shaman, Lover, Warrior: An Urban Fantasy Thriller (Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Book 5) Page 22
