Haunted

by Kelley Armstrong

  "Which makes it false? What happened to this Paterson guy?"

  "Drowned a year later, in a boating accident."

  "Aha," I said, as I ducked my head into a closet. "I smell conspiracy. Who owns Castle Huntly now?"

  "The state. It's a prison."

  "And they claim there's no tunnel leading out of it? Very convenient." I glanced over at Trsiel. "I know you're convinced Dantalian found a way to lie to us, but humor me. Which direction is Huntly?"

  He paused. "North."

  Trsiel headed for that side of the room, but I waved him back.

  "Keep checking these rooms," I said. "If we're searching for the tunnel, so is she. You look for her. I'll look for it."

  "Don't go anywhere--"

  "Without you. I know. I don't need to. X-ray vision, remember?"

  I used my Aspicio power all along the north side of the room and up a short hall. It took another twenty minutes, but I finally looked through a section of stonework and saw something besides solid dirt on the other side.

  "Got it," I said.

  He took my hand. "Lead on."

  We stepped into the wall and darkness enveloped us. Using my sight, I led us through the dirt and into the empty space beyond. After a moment in there, my night-vision kicked in, and I could make out a dirt tunnel, no more than four feet wide. I took a step and banged my forehead on a chunk of soil.

  "These medieval Scots...not that tall, were they?"

  "Apparently not," Trsiel said, ducking as he stepped up beside me. "It looks like it gets shallower still."

  "So you can see okay?"

  He nodded.

  "Does that mean she can, too?"

  "Probably. It's a common demonic power."

  I hesitated. "I suppose her hearing works fine in the dark, too."

  A soft laugh. "Yes, we'd better switch to telepathy."

  I ducked and started forward again. After a few feet, I scraped the top, and got a soil shower.

  "Uh, Trsiel?" I said, mentally forming the words. "Why are we hitting the ceiling?"

  He glanced back at me, brows lifting. "Because we're tall?"

  I socked him in the arm and motioned for him to continue walking. "I'm serious. Why are we hitting the ceiling instead of walking through it?"

  "You're right. Huh. That's strange."

  "That's not the answer I'm looking for."

  "Well, uh..." He looked around. "This kind of thing happens sometimes. It's an interdimensional warp in the fabric of time and space."

  "You have no idea, do you?"

  "No, but that sounded good when they said it on Star Trek. Honestly, I can't explain it. But I know it does happen. Either this tunnel has somehow vanished in the living world, which explains why it hasn't been found, or it does exist, but is under some kind of demonic influence."

  "Which would explain how Dantalian, a noncorporeal demon, could open a drawer and drop off the amulet."

  "Right. I think."

  "Works for me. And speaking of hiding places, here's the first room."

  I cast a light-ball inside. The room was crammed with stuff--the kind of stuff someone must have considered worth hiding, but was now garage-sale reject trash--moldering carpets, rotted wooden furniture, mildewed paintings, and more.

  "Got four words for the Glamis family," I murmured. "' Climate-controlled storage units.' So now what? Search for the Nix or the amulet?"

  "Let's keep going."

  In less than a mile of tunnel, we hit two more jam-packed rooms. Fourteen miles to go. Shit. No wonder Dantalian didn't remember where he'd put the amulet.

  All these rooms were filled with furnishings. Knowing we were hot on her trail, the Nix must have raced past these, looking for more amulet-friendly storage. But if you want to hide jewelry, is it better to put it in a room filled with other treasures? Or stuff it in a desk drawer?

  When I mentioned this to Trsiel, he agreed that the amulet might very well be in one of these home-decor-packed rooms. Since we knew the Nix would be moving forward, there was no harm in me lagging behind to search for the amulet. So I started to look while Trsiel took off in search of the Nix.

  Dantalian said he'd put the amulet in a drawer. That gave me a place to start. With the stuff crammed in so tight, some drawers had no room to open, and others were stuck shut by swollen wood or rusted hardware. I gave each one a tug, but the moment they resisted, I didn't waste time yanking, just used my Aspicio powers to look inside.

  With both the light-ball spell and the X-ray vision to help, I whipped through the first room in about ten minutes. The only drawer that wasn't empty held only the crumpled remains of papers. Probably ancient letters detailing some illicit royal affair, or the deed to some misappropriated property, now lost to history forever.

  I was in the fourth room when I peered into a stuck drawer and finally saw a glitter of silver. I tried to get a better look, but the angle was wrong, and all I could see was what looked like a length of chain. I tugged on the drawer, but it wouldn't budge. Bracing both feet against the front of the chest, I grabbed the drawer handle, then yanked as hard as I could...and fell flat on my back, holding the broken handle.

  "Goddamn it," I muttered.

  I looked around, then crawled over a dismantled bed and tugged a metal hanging rod from a tapestry. Back at the drawer, I wedged the narrow end of the rod into the top gap. The bar was slightly too thick, and it took some work to shove it in there, but finally I had enough through. Then I moved alongside the bar, put both hands on it, and slammed the bar down. Wood cracked. The drawer gave way, and I stumbled forward, catching myself before I fell. I looked back, to see the drawer still in place--but the front panel lying on the floor.

  "That'll work, too," I murmured.

  I reached into the drawer. My fingers clasped metal. I pulled it out...and found myself holding nothing but a silver chain.

  "Goddamn it!" I whipped the chain across the room. "After all that..."

  I cursed again, spun on my heel to stomp out, then stopped. Slow down and be sure. I turned back to the chest, crouched, and peered into the dark depths of the broken drawer. Empty. No--be absolutely sure.

  I waved my light-ball down. As it moved, the light glinted off something in the very back of the drawer. I reached inside. My fingers found the top edge of a disk wedged in the back of the drawer. I traced my index finger over a half-circle of cool metal. The rest of it was stuck in the crack between the drawer's rear panel and base.

  Resisting the urge to rip the drawer apart, I carefully worked the piece out. Finally it came free, and the drawer popped open. I wrapped my hand around the metal disk and pulled it out. It had better not be a worthless old coin, or I was going to scream loud enough to bring both Trsiel and the Nix running.

  I straightened, then slowly opened my hand. There, on my palm, lay what did indeed look like a cheap coin, a plain silver disk with writing around the edges. Yet I didn't even need to glance at the inscription to know that this was the amulet. I could feel it, the power of it, pulsating against my skin.

  The power of transmigration. The power to inhabit a corporeal being, to fully occupy and control that body, to enact one's will on the living world. This was what I'd been searching for. I was half-demon. I could use this amulet. I could see my daughter, be with her, speak to her, touch her. Protect her.

  If I'd had this that day in the community center, I could have protected her, instead of being forced to stand by, helpless.

  And what would you have done? whispered Kristof's voice. Leapt into the nearest person, jumped into the bullet's path, and killed your host, only to discover Savannah wasn't even in danger? And how will you make sure you're there if something like that ever happens again? Do you plan to follow her around every hour of every day, a spectral guard dog, always at her heels?

  I shivered. I couldn't be there all the time. I didn't want to be there all the time. I wanted...

  I squeezed my hand tight around the amulet and closed my eyes.
>
  I wanted my own life. Here. In this world.

  Eyes still closed, I put in a mental call to Trsiel. Almost immediately, I heard soft footfalls in the tunnel.

  "Thank God," I murmured.

  I hurried to the door. I stepped out and saw a dim figure down the corridor--a figure far too small and too blond to be Trsiel. The Nix.

  36

  I BACKPEDALED BEFORE SHE SAW ME. AFTER ONE MORE mental shout to Trsiel, I looked down at the amulet in my hand. If she found me, she'd better not find this. She'd heard Dantalian say it was in a drawer, so I shoved my hand into a roll of carpet and dropped the amulet inside. Then I took two steps back and cast a cover spell.

  The Nix's footsteps drew closer. They stopped outside the room.

  "Someone's made a mess in here," she murmured. She walked to the middle of the room and looked around. "Did they find what they were looking for? Let's hope not."

  She opened the nearest drawer, then stopped, gaze catching on the broken drawer panel on the ground...on the ground at my feet. She moved toward it. Shit! A couple more steps and she'd smack right into me, breaking my cover spell.

  I waited until she was close enough to reach out and touch. Then I let loose a front kick that caught her square in the jaw, and sent her sailing across the room. Before she could recover, I slammed her with a roundhouse kick to the gut then, as she crumpled forward, an uppercut to the jaw knocked her off her feet and flipped her backward, her head cracking against a marble bust. As she staggered back up, I darted behind her and kicked her in the ass, knocking her face-first to the dirt floor.

  "Come on," I said. "Get up again. Please."

  She pushed up to all fours, then lifted her head and glared at me.

  "Oh, come on," I said. "I can't kick you when you're down. That's not fair."

  When she didn't move, I whirled and slammed a front kick into her the bottom of her jaw, toppling her over onto her back.

  "Screw fair," I said. "This is too much fun."

  Yet, as much fun as it was, I knew I couldn't keep it up forever. Where the hell was Trsiel? As a last resort, I put my fingers in my mouth and whistled as loud as I could. As I did, the Nix sprang to her feet. I kicked. Her hand shot out, grabbing for my foot. I managed to abort the kick just as her fingers grazed my ankle. I danced away, out of reach of that iron grip.

  "You think you're clever, don't you, witch?" she said. "But the harder you hit, the harder I'll hit back. Haven't you learned that yet?"

  She lunged for me. I sidestepped out of the way, pivoted fast, and aimed a roundhouse kick at the back of her knees. My foot connected with a crack and she dropped to her knees.

  As I kicked again, the Nix ducked in time, then grabbed at my foot, getting just enough of a grip to pull me off balance. I twisted away and rebounded with a side kick that knocked her into the wall, dirt raining down.

  "You want the amulet, witch?" she said. "You keep it. I'll go the other route. Less satisfying in the long run but--" She smiled. "Temporarily, perhaps very satisfying indeed, if done right. So why don't..."

  She flew at me, hoping to catch me off guard, but I veered out of her path and wheeled to face her again. Running footsteps pounded in the tunnel. Trsiel. Finally.

  The Nix started an incantation. A portal, or so I assumed. But the words sounded familiar...and I didn't know any portal-opening spells. It didn't matter. Whatever she was casting, I wasn't about to let her finish.

  I spun and kicked, but the Nix backed out of my way. She lifted both hands, then fluttered them down. A spell with hand gestures? Had to be sorcerer magic. As I readied another kick, she stopped casting. I braced myself, but nothing happened.

  "As good a spell-caster as a fighter, I see," I said...and dropped her with a front kick.

  Trsiel flew through the doorway. I was off to the side, up near the door, so when he came through, his back was to me and all he saw was the Nix sprawled across the floor.

  She lifted her head.

  "Trsiel!" she said. "Look out! Behind you!"

  He swung around, sword raised. Then he saw me and stopped.

  "Trsiel!" the Nix shouted. "It's her. She cast a glamour spell."

  Glamour? Oh, shit! That's what the Nix had cast. A sorcerer glamour spell...to make herself look like me. A protest flew to my lips, but Trsiel's sword was already sheering toward me, too fast for me to say anything...or to dive out of the way.

  At the last second, our eyes met, and his filled with horrified realization. He tried to stop, but the momentum of his swing was too great and all he could do was divert the sword's course, swinging down away from my torso. The blade hit me in the upper thigh. I heard an inhuman scream, then felt the sound ripping from my own throat as the pain--the indescribable pain--tore through me. I pitched forward. Trsiel dove to catch me. The sword clattered to the floor.

  As I fell, I blacked out, coming to only as another flash of agony knifed through me. Trsiel's arms tightened around me as he lowered me to the floor. His mouth opened, but I heard only the sound of my own screaming. Behind him, the Nix was running--not at us, but off to our side. I blinked, then comprehension hit.

  "Trsiel," I gasped. "Sword. She--"

  He shot up just as the Nix dove for the sword. Too late to grab it, Trsiel kicked it aside and threw himself at the Nix. He caught her by the shoulders and they went down.

  I struggled to focus on them, but pain pulsed through me, each throb bringing a split-second blackout. I fought to stay conscious. Across the room. Trsiel almost had the Nix pinned, but she wriggled out of his grip, rolled, then darted toward the sword. Trsiel took her down again.

  I forced my body to turn, and tried to see the sword through the flashes of darkness. There! By the door. Biting my lip, I managed to push up on all fours, then stumbled toward it. When I was still a few feet away, I felt my limbs tremor, threatening to give way. I threw myself forward, onto the sword. I felt the heat of it burn through my shirt. Then everything went dark.

  I awoke in something like a bed, soft and comfortable. Trsiel leaned over me. I struggled to sit, but white-hot pain forced me down again.

  "Nix," I whispered.

  "Gone," he said. "She teleported out as soon as I had a good hold on her."

  "Amulet. Found--"

  "It's right here."

  "Good. Wh--" I gasped as fresh pain ripped through me.

  Trsiel's arms went around me, one sliding under me, and his hands moved up to my neck. I gasped again. His hands were nearly as hot as the sword. As soon as his fingers touched my skin, the pain ebbed. He massaged the back of my neck, and I slowly relaxed into the bed as the pain gave way to soft waves of soothing heat. I felt myself drifting toward sleep, only dimly aware that he was talking. I struggled to listen, but could make out only the hypnotic sound of his voice as he reverted to his angelic tone.

  "Better?" he whispered.

  "Ummm. Getting better."

  A soft chuckle. "I'll keep at it, then." His voice sobered. "I can't tell you how sorry--"

  "S'okay."

  I stretched, then lifted my head and looked around. I was lying on a divan. He'd pulled up a chair beside it. Both were big chunky pieces, postmodern furniture, more comfortable than they looked. Two more chairs flanked a fireplace, and another two were by a window overlooking a cityscape. Art gallery and museum posters decorated the walls. Across the room was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase, crammed to overflowing, with books shoved into every space and more piled on the floor underneath. On my right, magazines covered a low-slung table.

  "Your room?" I said.

  He nodded. "Not much like the other angel quarters, is it?"

  I picked up a copy of Entertainment Weekly. "Not much."

  His cheeks heated.

  "I'm teasing you," I said. "Your room is much nicer. That other one? Kinda creepy."

  He gave a soft laugh. I continued flipping through the stack of magazines. Some, like Time and National Geographic, I recognized. Others, I wasn't even sure what languag
e they were written in.

  "I suppose this answers the question," he said, sweeping a hand around the room. "Though I'm sure you already knew it."

  "Hmm?"

  "What Dantalian meant. About me. His...insults. You said you didn't know what he meant, but I know you do."

  I flipped onto my back and looked up at him. "That you're part human. Or so he says."

  "He's right. Which you also know. Not that I can prove it." He swept a lock of my hair off the pillow, fingers sliding to the end, his gaze fixed on this diversion as he continued, "I told you I'm from the last group of full-bloods. The Creator--He saw problems with the older ones, the first angels and even the seconds. As the world grew, they couldn't keep up. They went from thousands of years of watching over hunters and gatherers to a world that seemed to change every time they blinked. When we--the last group--were created, we were taught to immerse ourselves in the human world--to keep up with its traditions, its language, even its fashions, so that we could better understand those we served."

  "Then that's the explanation, isn't it? The training. Not that you're part human."

  He shook his head. "That's the rationale, not the reason. We all know it. Some of the older ones try to be more like us, and some of us try to be more like them, but it doesn't work. The difference goes deeper."

  "So you think the Creator gave you some human blood? To make you more human?"

  Trsiel released my hair from his fingers and nodded. "And when Dantalian brought it up, I saw my reaction, and I hated myself for it, for what you must have thought of me."

  "I don't--"

  "What a hypocrite, right? One minute I'm telling you I see nothing wrong with humans, and the next I'm flying into a rage when some demon accuses me of having human blood." He shook his head fiercely, eyes blazing.

  "What a damnable--"

  I pulled myself up. "I don't think you're a hypocrite, Trsiel. I saw how those other angels treated you. That's the problem, isn't it? Not having human blood, but having them think you do."

  "I care about what it makes me in their eyes. I know I shouldn't--"

  I ducked to meet his gaze. "It's okay. You don't have to explain it to me." I gave a small smile. "I'm a witch, remember? I know all about being treated like a second-class citizen when you know you aren't."