*** *** ***
Marcus trained his new binoculars on the top floor windows. There were always lights on up there in the evening, after the workers went home. Somebody’s palatial apartment, where Raven was being held. He wanted to know how well-guarded she was before he confronted the other shaman.
From the front he could only see into the atrium, which occupied all eight floors. Getting a good view of the side facing the cathedral was tricky because he didn’t want to be exposed out in the open. The left corner windows looked into a kitchen, dim and deserted. The right corner was dark. Marcus crept along to the right, keeping inside the dense evergreen stand encircling the compound. There were guards inside, but he had yet to see any walking the grounds.
Along this wall Marcus could see a marble tiled bathroom and an opulent bedroom, a man moving around in the bedroom, his back to Marcus. He turned and Marcus’s temples began to throb.
Kyle had Raven. Again.
Marcus was furious with himself for not anticipating that Fin’s brother would share his gift of magic. He had been tricked again. A flicker of self-doubt ran through Marcus’s thoughts and he snuffed it. Raven would be his forever after a contest of powers with this pretender. The spirits would help if he was worthy. If not, he had his pistol.
Marcus watched as Kyle put on a white shirt and began to button it. Where was Raven? Perhaps in that dark room along the back. Maybe Kyle kept her tied up. With equal parts fury and satisfaction, Marcus gave consideration to all the things Kyle could have done, almost certainly had done, to Raven. A bitter smile rested on Marcus’s lips as Kyle walked to the bathroom. His anger was stoking nicely. This whelp stood no chance against Coyote.
Movement behind Kyle caught Marcus’s attention. He swiveled the binoculars and saw Raven step out of the shower, her hair wrapped in a striped towel, naked otherwise. The rush of familiarity was strong, but the rage was stronger. She was smiling.
Marcus stood stock still and watched Raven dress. She put on a lacy white bra and panties, but Kyle had her take them off again. The slim-fitting calf-length white skirt would slow her down if they had to retreat in a hurry. The powder pink blouse just looked ridiculous. He would never mistake her body or the markings he gave to her, but she was almost unrecognizable in her new country club clothes. Blow-drying her new hair and applying a hint of lipstick completed the transformation. She had changed a lot in two weeks. Or been changed. Kyle was a stronger foe than Marcus had imagined. He had enchanted Raven.
Kyle led Raven out of the bedroom. Marcus moved back the way he had come. A few minutes later a limousine pulled out of the underground parking garage and sped off. The license plate read SHAWMIN.
*** *** ***
Rook was pissed. Things weren’t working out as planned.
She talked Kyle into taking her out easily enough. Apparently she wasn’t the only one chafing under their domestic facade. Now that they were out, though, she couldn’t make her escape. After an awkward quickie in the limo while cruising downtown Donner, they arrived at a seafood restaurant. During dinner, Gary and Mitch took a table closer to the door. Nerves and the fishy smell stole Rook’s appetite. When she excused herself to go to the bathroom, Mitch loitered outside the door, pretending to use a pay phone. The bathroom had no windows. They left without ordering dessert.
It was Halloween, even though the warm weather and Rook’s mental calendar told her it was still early fall. Teenagers dressed as goths and vampires and dead things roamed the sidewalks in packs, making lots of noise so everyone would know they were cool. Rook wished she could join them. Her new hair and clothes felt like a costume.
They had time to kill before the movie. At every store they entered, Mitch and Gary flanked the door, one looking in, one out. They were pretty good at this bodyguard thing. Kyle held her hand incessantly. She didn’t know what would happen if she made a break for it, just ran. She didn’t think it would be good. They would undoubtedly catch her, the three of them working together could hardly miss. Kyle would know her true feelings and would lobotomize her, or something just as bad. It would be better to wait until she was more assured of success. Maybe during the movie.
They left the theatre at midnight, Kyle clutching her hand, Mitch and Gary in tow. The moon lurked behind a bank of clouds and the air was brisk. The teenage spooks had all gone to bed and the streets were quieter, littered with candy wrappers, black and orange crepe paper, and the occasional smashed jack-o-lantern. Rook tried to talk Kyle into going to a club, thinking the crowd and confusion would give her a chance to slip away. Kyle refused, claiming early commitments the next morning. He tried to placate her by telling her they would go to a club. Soon.
Returning to the Ministries compound, Rook watched out the limo window, reviewing the streets and landmarks she memorized on their way out. She wanted to know where to go if she ever did get out of the apartment. Gary drove, with Mitch riding shotgun. Kyle dozed, his hand on her left thigh. Approaching the turnoff for the compound, they stopped. There were no traffic lights along this stretch of road. The opaque privacy screen blocked her view out the front. Rook craned her neck, but couldn’t see anything. She tried to put her window down, but the controls didn’t work. There must be a master control up front.
Rook moved Kyle’s hand and scooted closer to the door. Beyond the shoulder of the road, the ground dropped away to a wooded area. It was an overcast night and there were no streetlights. She heard the driver’s door open. This had to be it. Rook pulled the door handle, but nothing happened. Locked. She looked for the mechanism. There wasn’t one. Those controls must be up front too.
Rook wiped her sweaty palms on her white skirt. What should she do? Kyle stirred. If she couldn’t escape, she might as well make points as the devoted wifey-poo.
“Kyle?” She prodded his knee. “Kyle, we’ve stopped.”
Kyle opened his eyes and sat up, fully alert. He leaned forward and rapped on the privacy window. The back doors unlocked with a tiny sound. Kyle pulled a handgun from his shoulder holster and opened his door.
“Stay here.” He stepped out, holding the gun behind his leg.
Yeah right.
Kyle’s door shut and she watched him walk toward the front of the car. He stopped when he reached Gary standing at the open driver’s door, and they conferred.
Rook slid over to her side and eased her door open. Hoping Mitch wasn’t looking, she slipped out and closed the door as silently as possible, staying in a crouch.
Two gunshots startled Rook and she flattened herself on the ground, quaking. Looking under the limo, Rook saw lights and Gary on the road, bleeding. At least they hadn’t been shooting at her.
Another round of blasts kept her pinned to the ground and she crawled on her belly toward the drop.
“RAVEN! I’VE COME FOR YOU!”
Oh, fuck! Rook’s insides turned to water. She tried to block out all sensory input and crawl toward the drop. Behind her she heard scuffling sounds and a car door opening. He grabbed her. She smelled gunpowder, blood and sweat.
“Hey, Little Raven, where you goin’?” Marcus lifted her effortlessly. He looked down at her and clucked disapprovingly. “You’ve been defiled.”
Marcus dragged Rook to the front of the car. His van blocked the road. Gary lay on the ground, dead. Through the limo’s open driver’s door she saw Mitch leaking his brains all over the passenger seat. Kyle sat propped against the side of the car, bleeding from a wound in his right shoulder, pressing his left hand against it. Rook noticed a lurch to Marcus’s step and saw he had been shot in the side. His blood stained her clothes.
Marcus smiled down at her. He dipped his fingers into his blood and painted a stripe across her face. “Now you’re mine again.” He bent and kissed her.
Rook gagged.
“Get away from my wife,” Kyle said weakly, struggling to his feet. “Before I kill you.”
Marcus snapped his head to look at Kyle, then angrily at Rook.
Kyle plowed
into them, knocking them to the ground. Marcus’s gun flew out of his hand. Rook rolled clear and backed away awkwardly on her knees.
Kyle reached the pistol and Marcus pounced on him. They hit the ground hard. Kyle grabbed the gun by the barrel and slammed it into Marcus’s head. Marcus howled.
Kyle staggered to his feet and pointed the weapon at Marcus. When he pulled the trigger, it only clicked.
Kyle turned and ran toward Rook and the limo.
Marcus gained his feet and started for Rook also. Rook backed away from them both.
Marcus reached behind his back, but Kyle spotted the move and gave up on Rook. He dove into the limo and slammed the door. Marcus raised Kyle’s gun and fired. The bulletproof glass spared Kyle and he put the limo in motion. He tried to mow Marcus down as he maneuvered around the van, clipping the fender, and sped off toward the compound.
Rook laughed hoarsely, hysterically.
*** *** ***
Kyle tore his eyes away from Mitch’s dead body in the passenger seat and called Perkins, standing guard in the garage.
“Yes, sir?”
“Shut the fuck up and listen. Mitch and Gary are dead. I’m hit. Get the medic. I’m bleeding a lot. Shit, this is bad. Get someone in a vehicle to go collect Gary. Someone heavily armed. They’ll need to clean up the scene. Ministry Road, near the junction. On the double. And get me a pilot for the chopper.”
Kyle hung up on Perkins and called the lab.
“Schwartz, it’s Tanner.”
“Yes, sir?”
“I want an immediate trace on my wife. The new signal, from the wedding ring. You added GPS like I ordered?” Schwartz made an affirmative noise. “Track her location. I’ll radio from the chopper when I’m ready. Stand by.”
Kyle felt lightheaded, but he could see the lights of the compound ahead. He accelerated and kept his hand pressed into his wound.
*** *** ***
Marcus was howling, head thrown back, eyes closed. Rook’s rusty, hysterical laughter sputtered to a stop and she took several deep breaths, head swimming. Looking around she saw Gary splayed on the tarmac in a dark puddle. And Marcus. And Marcus’s van. Oh, hell yes! The keys had to be in it. Had to be.
Rook ran to the driver’s door and jerked it open. She slammed the door and shoved the lock button down. The window was open.
Marcus heard the door and swung around to look at her. He wore black jeans, a blood-soaked flannel shirt and a menacing half-smile. His hair was loose and wild. He started walking to the van, not hurrying in the least. Rook grabbed the crank handle and started to put the window up. Marcus got to her as it passed the halfway point and he reached in, trying to snag her hair. She evaded him and continued to raise the window. Marcus grasped the glass with both hands. Smiling broadly, he tugged on it and it shattered.
Rook reached for the ignition, but the keys weren’t in it. Disbelieving, she fumbled for the visor, to check behind it, but Marcus unlocked the door and yanked it open. He didn’t look mad and that was the scariest part.
“I’ll drive, Raven.”
He started climbing in. Rook dove to the passenger seat. Marcus grabbed her wrist and pulled her back before she even reached the door handle. He smiled at her and sat her in his lap, bleeding on her. He reached for the handcuffs he kept hanging from the rearview mirror.
Rook tried to kick them out of his hand, but he twisted her wrist and pulled her arm up behind her back. Rook gasped. Marcus chuckled, cuffing her left wrist to his right.
“We better get moving before your latest boy toy comes back with reinforcements. Comfortable, hon?”
Rook said nothing.
Marcus shut his door and took the keys from his pocket. Rook watched as he started the van, and spotted the handcuff key on the ring. At least he had it. Unable to reach the passenger seat while cuffed to him, Rook knelt on the floor beside Marcus.
They drove in silence for several minutes and got on the highway. Rook could see the prismatic glass spires of the cathedral looming above the treetops as they passed. Somewhere over there Kyle was probably planning her rescue. Whoopee.
“I thought I could trust you,” Marcus said.
“What?”
“You were mine.”
“I married Fin. It’s not my fault you didn’t understand that.”
“You lied to me.”
“Oh, come on Marcus! You wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“You’re mine.”
“No I’m not!”
Marcus gave the handcuffs a tug. “Yeah?”
“Fuck you.”
“Now you’re talking like yourself. What the hell happened to your hair?”
Rook didn’t answer.
“We had an understanding, Raven! We’re supposed to create the next world! Together. What the hell are you doing marrying this one, too? You’re not trustworthy.”
“Then let me go. I’ll never disappoint you again.”
“No. You won’t.” His tone was flat.
He was going to kill her. Great. She could use some down time.
With her luck it wouldn’t be that easy. Kyle would show up in time to ‘rescue’ her and she’d be right back where she started. But Kyle abandoned her, so maybe he had decided she wasn’t worth it. Maybe she could die in peace. No doubt Marcus had something elaborate planned, so it wouldn’t be peaceful, but at least it would end.
Marcus moved her hand to his crotch.
“Unzip it.”
He was already erect and she started to stroke him. Her fingers slid over the three curved barbells in his corona without noticing them, but her wedding ring clacked against the ladder of straight barbells along the underside of his shaft.
The bugged jewelry. That’s why Kyle let her go. He could track Marcus.
“Take it off, Raven.”
Rook brought her right hand over and started to fumble with the barbell.
“Not that.”
“But...”
“No. The ring. Take off the fucking wedding ring.”
“That’s not important. The stud. Oh, shit, all your jewelry. Marcus, you’ve gotta take it all off. You have to get rid of it.”
“Fuck you.”
“Marcus, you don’t understand! Kyle can listen to us through it. He can track us.”
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. You’re suddenly not into piercings anymore, got too used to your little golf player? Take off the fucking ring now or I’ll do it when I break your finger.”
“Shit, Marcus! He’ll find us!” She tried to work the ring off.
“Raven,” Marcus growled.
Rook dipped her finger into Marcus’s blood for lubrication. The ring came off and she tucked it in her blouse pocket where he wouldn’t see it anymore.
Marcus looked down, and smiled when he saw the tattoo underneath. He held his left hand up for her to see. On the ring finger glistened a fresh tattoo. It matched hers.
“You’re my wife now. Those others have no hold on you. I marked you as I was marked by the spirits.”
Rook whimpered. He had given her the ring. But not all of it. Fin completed it. In her heart, Rook knew she was married only to Fin.
He moved her hand back to his erection. “We’ll usher in the next world. Now. Tonight.”
“Please let me take these out,” said Rook.
“No. And no more talking.”
“Marcus...”
Marcus clubbed her. It hurt like hell, but she knew he could have easily broken her jaw.
“Shut up until I tell you to talk.”
Rook kept her mouth shut, but she pictured the helicopter she’d seen on the roof. Now, if Kyle got her back, she was screwed. He would know what she’d told Marcus, that she knew about the jewelry.
They drove in silence for ten minutes. The blood Marcus smeared on her face itched, but Rook didn’t dare rub it off. Her legs cramped from kneeling for so long. Marcus took the next exit and several more turns in quick succession. Rook didn’t pay at
tention to where they were going. She didn’t know this part of the state, and was about to die anyway.
A few minutes later Marcus stopped the van and smiled down at her. He stood and pulled her into the back where he kept a couch against the left side. The place was cluttered and dark. They sat on the battered old sofa and Marcus kissed her. Rook didn’t respond. Marcus didn’t notice.
“You have to get out of these ridiculous clothes,” he said and started to unbutton her pink top. The handcuffs made it awkward, and he soon just yanked it open, popping the remaining buttons off and exposing her bare breasts.
“Please, Coyote.”
“Yes, Raven?”
“Please take out your jewelry. It’s interfering. With your, um,” Rook struggled, “your magic.”
Marcus was kissing her chest, her nipples, her belly. He wasn’t listening. He unzipped her long, blood-soaked skirt and shoved it down. Rook’s hand, cuffed to his, went through the motions of undressing in tandem with him.
When he finally killed her would she be complicit in that too? She tried to push him off, pulled his hair, struggled, screamed. Marcus smiled at her.
“No one can hear you.”
Rook screamed anyway.
As Marcus pulled his pants down, Rook heard a thud on the floor beside her. Reaching down with her right hand, she fumbled around and found his gun.
Marcus pushed himself up and Rook brought the gun between them. He saw it and laughed, but Rook thought she saw fear in his eyes. She pulled the trigger.
The shot was deafening. Marcus collapsed on top of her. Blood gushing from his neck ran over her, warm and thick, drenching her hair and filling her mouth.
Rook wretched and spat, jerking her head to the side. Gurgling sounds came from his chest and his body spasmed. Whimpering, Rook tried to wiggle out from under Marcus but he was too heavy and she was still cuffed to him. With a burst of adrenaline, she shoved him to the side and landed on top of him on the floor. She picked the gun up again and aimed it at his head, but her hand shook so wildly that the first shot hit his chest and the second went through the passenger seat and shattered the windshield.
Miss Brandymoon's Device: a novel of sex, nanotech, and a sentient lava lamp (Divided Man Book 1) Page 30
