Blood Hunt (18 page)

I stood on my tiptoes and reached in to undo the locks to the inner and outer doors and let myself into the house, closing the screen door behind me so the clawless kitty didn't get out of the house and into some trouble she couldn't fight her way out of. But the cat had vanished at the racket I'd made. Other cats, though, peered out of everywhere to see what all the fuss was about.

Or maybe just whether I had the kitty kibble. I had, after all, just let myself into Mrs. Barbarosa's kitchen. It smelled of canned cat food and ammonia, as though the kitty litter tried and failed to keep up with so many cats—at minimum the clawless kitty who had dashed away, one thinking she was thin enough to hide behind the legs of the kitchen table, another peering from the wall separating the kitchen from the next room, and yet another, a huge orange longhair, making a bee-line for me, rubbing herself against my legs for all she was worth, as though she wanted to weave me legwarmers with all the excess fur.

“Jessica!” I called.

The walls ate the sound. My precog lay dormant. As silent as the house that gave me no answer.

I stepped forward, toward the next room and the half-pink, half-black nose of the multi-colored kitten who stared at me from around the corner. My new friend, the ginger kitty came with me, pressed tightly against my legs as I walked, making it a special challenge.

The kitchen led to a hallway that had a staircase on the left and a living room/dining room combo on the right with a half-wall separating the two. Not separate enough. From where I stood, I could see the body and the blood. So much blood.

I took a step closer. Then a few more. The dining room area wasn't large, and I was to the half-wall when the world went wackadoo again like it had back at the Roland mansion. The air around me seemed to thicken, but still I could see through it like old glass. The room lit up, sunlight streaming in through the front window where yet another cat basked in the warmth, eyes closed contentedly. Based on the angle of the light, it was no later than mid-afternoon.

Through the veil of my vision, I could still see Mrs. Barbarosa in her flowered housecoat laying right where she was now, but unbloodied. Peaceful. Her chest rising and falling as she slept and a slight whistle coming through her nose. A long-haired black cat with a smudge of gold on its forehead perched above her keeping watch. One of Mrs. Barbarosa's hands rested on her chest, the other hung to the ground where another cat—the big orange beast pressed up against me now—licked at her fingers.

When Jessica entered from the front hallway, the orange cat took off like a rocket, right between Jessica's feet, as though to trip her up, but Jessica kept her course, moving almost like an automaton. The cat basking in the sunbeam startled awake. The watchcat perched on the back of the couch hissed, her hackles rising, as though she sensed something wrong. She leapt to her feet, her back arched, her eyes trained on Jessica. She hacked in warning.

Jessica hissed back, and my knees started to buckle. I reached out blindly for the half-wall and held on to it like a lifeline as the vision played out. I knew what I would see.

Jessica…when had they gotten to Jessica? I'd failed to protect my client. Worse yet, I'd sent her right to sweet old Mrs. Barbarosa. I'd practically signed the cat lady's death warrant.

Jessica reached the sleeping lady, and the watchcat leapt from the back of the couch, claws out, slashing at Jessica with a screech I knew from back alley fights. Jessica caught the cat, but couldn't hold her. The cat fought like Mrs. B's life depended on it, which I was pretty sure it did. The cat from the window launched at Jessica as well, catching her on the shin, right through her jeans. Both drew blood, the pain seeming to bring Jessica momentarily back to herself. Life seeped back into her eyes, which filled with horror at the realization of what she'd been about to do.

Then two things happened at once—there was a massive crash from the front of the house and Mrs. Barbarosa bolted upright on the couch, finally alert to the danger. In that instant, the Roland brothers invaded the living room. Mrs. Barbarosa's eyes went wide with fear, but she only had a second to live with it before one of the brothers plunged a knife into her chest.

The vision winked out as the bile rose in my throat and I needed someplace for it to go without contaminating the crime scene. I stumbled out into the backyard and burned my throat out coughing up the vile stuff, wishing I could expunge the vision along with it.

I heard a car pull up outside and forced myself to stumble toward it on unsteady feet. I had to keep anyone else from coming in. I needed to preserve the crime scene. To call Nick and Reyes. I needed…

Hells bells, no one knew to be wary of Jessica. She could waltz right into the police department and…

I held out my arm to stop Eros and Apollo from going any further than the front yard and made the call. Nick answered on the first ring. “Tori? My God, Tori, where are you? The hospital said you disappeared.”

“I'm all right. I, uh, disappeared under my own steam.”
Mostly.
“You can scold me later. For now, you need to know—Ian and Richie have Jessica Roland. And…you need to watch out for her.”

With my throat still burning from the bile, the speech cost me.

“Watch out for her how?”

“They've gotten to her. Infected her somehow. She can't be trusted. Right now you have to consider her armed and dangerous.”

“Has she—”

“Not yet. At least, not that I know of. But you do have another body.” I gave him the address.

“How did you find out about the murder before the police?”

“I came to visit my client and found the body of the woman she was staying with. From a distance it looks a helluva a lot like the bodies of Ma and Pa Roland.”

“I'm on my way. Reyes can handle things here.”

“One more thing—you might want to call animal control. The woman has a lot of cats.”

“Great.”

Chapter Nineteen

Nick was not excited to see Apollo and Eros when he pulled up, both of them sitting on the hood of the limo, the latter tinted blue in the glow of a vapor cigarette—cinnamon scented.

I met Nick at his car. “No one touched the body. No one disrupted the crime scene. Well, I mean, I broke a window and screen at the back of the house to get in, but aside from that…”

Nick took a deep breath and seemed to count to five before letting it out. “Anything else to confess?”

“I had another vision. That's how I know it wasn't Jessica who killed Mrs. Barbarosa. Not that she wouldn't have, but…the cats didn't give her the chance.”

“
The cats
?” he asked.

“Yeah, she was in a trancelike state until one of the cats attacked and drew blood. It snapped her out of things. I don't know for how long. The vision ended after one of the brothers plunged a knife into the old lady's chest.” I paused for just a second. It wasn't relevant to the investigation, I knew that, but what came out next was. “It's all my fault.”

“How? Did you put the knife in their hands?”

“I put Jessica in that house. I didn't do enough to make sure things were safe, and now you've got about a dozen cats with no nice old lady to feed them.”

Some of them were watching us right now, actually. My friend the big, fluffy orange cat had retreated when Nick's car pulled up, but was cautiously approaching again. She seemed to be my new shadow.

“Did either of you see anything?” he asked, nodding to Apollo and Eros, who I let introduce himself, since his current name hadn't left much of an impression on me. Roman…something.

“Not a thing. She never even let us get out of the car,” he said in answer. Then, realizing he
was
out of the car, added, “I mean, not to go inside. This is the farthest we've gotten.”

“Good. Stay here.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Eros answered, flipping him a casual salute.

I hoped he and Apollo could play nice long enough for me to walk Nick through the crime scene.

“Take me around back,” he said.

“Sir, yes, sir,” I mimicked.

He rolled his eyes and didn't say a word. I led him around back, watching as his lips thinned and the lines around his eyes deepened at the sight of the window I'd smashed and the busted in screen.

“Subtle,” he said.

“Thanks, I try.”

“Did you touch anything inside?”

“The half-wall between the dining area and the living room. I had to hold myself up when the vision hit.”

“Okay, we've already got your comparison prints on file.”

“Wait, before you go inside, did Reyes give you my message? Were you able to track the chaos?”

He looked back at me in the darkness, but, of course, in the ambient light of the city, nothing was ever truly
dark
. “Yes and no. It seemed pretty straightforward at first, but then…there was a ripple effect, like the butterfly flapping its wings in South America that causes a tsunami in Asia or however the saying goes. By now, there are reports coming in from all over the city. Fights breaking out, galloping topiaries, traffic lights gone wild.”

Little things that could snowball out of control. L.A. with its car culture would practically shut down with its traffic system on the fritz. There'd be accidents, gridlock, patrol units tied up directing traffic and giving out tickets for blocking the box. And with the area's history of road rage and other violence…

“Damn,” I said.

“Tell me about it. Are you any closer to stopping this craziness?”

“We're working on a plan.”

“If I could make a suggestion?”

“Shoot.”

“Work faster.”

“Gee, why didn't I think of that?”

“I've missed bantering with you,” he added after a second.

“Me too.” The moment turned awkward.

“Well, I have to go see about a dead body,” he said. “And call it in. And wait for the forensic team, which with as many calls as we've had tonight might be a while. Go. You're of better use elsewhere than sticking around for a statement, but you'll have to come in for one tomorrow.”

I nodded and watched him go. It was getting a little easier every time.

My phone rang as I got back into the limo, which was good. It put off the moment of decision—where to go next when I had absolutely no idea. No direction. I'd lost Richie's blood trail and time was running out.

The read-out told me it was Yiayia before I even answered. “Tell me you found Ichnaea!” I said as I punched the button to accept the call.

“Well, hello to you,
anipsi
.”

“Kind of in crisis mode right now,” I said impatiently.

“We are certainly at the breakdown of human society if—”

“
Yiayia
!”

“Sheesh. Fine, fine. I can take a hint. Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

I groaned. I didn't have time for games. “The good news?” I ventured, knowing it would take longer to argue.

“I found Ichnaea!”

“Hallelujah.”

“The bad news—she's over in Asia, helping track those still alive under the ruins from the last tsunami.”

My joy evaporated. I should have known.

For a second, a small part of me considered that Asia wasn't impossible. We could bring her over as we had brought Panacea from Africa to combat the plagues the demons unleashed on Earth. Hermes could open a window, which boosted by Apollo's power could become a portal, but…did I have the right? The brothers were killing people one at a time…for now. Ichnaea might be rescuing hundreds…thousands…finding pockets of entire families trapped in the rubble… No, I couldn't take her away from the rescue efforts. Not now. Not unless things became dire.

“Damn,” I said.

“Tori, you will not curse. Your mother would wash your mouth out with soap.”

“Damn's only a curse if you believe in hell,” I countered.

“I believe in Tartarus,” she said, “and I wouldn't wish anyone there.”

I didn't have an answer for that.

“Is it true that you were at the same premiere as Thalia Day tonight? And that she was kidnapped?” Yiayia asked.

It was as though she'd run an icy finger down the center of my back.

“How did you know about the premiere?” I asked.

I hadn't mentioned it to anyone in the family. I hadn't even thought to mention it. To me the premiere was a chore, something I had to get through without falling on my face or saying anything stupid. It wasn't brag-worthy.

“I teased it for the Goddities blog,” she said proudly. “Oh, not about you, of course. I didn't know about that until I saw you on the news. But about Thalia. She's got a supporting role in that new movie. I knew she was going to be there. And of course as one of the Muses, I knew she'd be of interest to my readers.”

“What about Aphrodite?” I asked, trying not to jump to any conclusions.

Eros was already leaning forward in his seat, trying to catch both sides of my conversation. At this he practically fell into my lap.

“Now she was a surprise. I had no idea she'd be attending. And with that handsome son of hers…”

Eros flashed me his dimpled grin.

“But you stay away from him. Far away,” she added. “That one's trouble.”

His grin didn't fade.

“So you didn't say anything about Aphrodite on the website?” I asked, just to be certain.

“Not as far as the premiere,” she said defensively.

“As far as what then?”

“Nothing recent. It's all old news. You know how I run it, ‘Rumor has it that a certain goddess of love is La La Land's latest Mayflower Madam and that those in the know can request some very special services from certain nymphs and naiads who've been chased out of their elements by encroaching civilization. Naughty, naughty!' Nothing too specific. Why, what are you thinking?”

I was silent for a second. I had a bad, bad feeling. A really terrible feeling. And I didn't want to share it with Yiayia in case I was wrong.

But what if I was right?

“Yiayia, would you send me whatever you've written on gods and goddesses in the L.A. area?”

“Do you…?” She gasped. “Do you think they found out about Thalia from me? But…but it was the premiere for her very own movie. Lots of places would have talked about it.”

But lots of places wouldn't have known that she was one of the Muses. If I was right—and the monster pinging of my gut said that I was—this was all my fault. Even more than leaving Jessica with Mrs. Barbarosa.

Based on the shocked look on Richie's face when my wings had come out during our battle, he hadn't known about me. Maybe he knew the gods were real, if he was aware of his connection to Set, but he might not have thought about other mythologicals walking around… And if he or the force that drove him had gotten curious enough to do some poking around about me, it could very well have led him to the Goddities website. I knew for a fact that while Yiayia had kept my name out of things, she hadn't been able to resist certain teasers. My life of late had been the ultimate fodder for a godly gossip site. Witness my relationship with Apollo.

And if they'd decided that humans weren't enough of a challenge or that killing immortals would facilitate Set's greater glory…or power…

Apollo, feeling my turmoil, even if he couldn't read the cause, reached over to put a hand on my knee and squeeze in support.

“Yiayia, it's not your fault,” I said with complete honesty. “But sending me that list will be a huge help.”

“I'll get right on it.”

I let my head fall back against the seat as we rang off. How on Earth was I going to protect all the gods and godlings in the L.A. area? It seemed rife with ancients—so many of the old gods were attracted to influence, fame and fortune, longing to recapture a little of the power they'd lost. Hollywood alone had far more than its fair share.

There was no way to protect them all individually. I debated what to do. I could have Yiayia put out a warning on the Goddities website. Not everyone would see the site, but surely word would spread? But was that the way to go or should we reserve the site for setting a trap, since I suspected the brothers were checking in? There was no way to know, and it wasn't a decision I wanted to rest on my shoulders alone.

I asked the driver to put up the privacy shield before I told Apollo and Eros what I suspected.

We all stared at each other momentarily.

Then Eros chimed in, “Why didn't I know about this site? What does your grandmother say about me?”

I rolled my eyes, called the site up on my phone and handed it over. “No idea. See for yourself.”

He scanned the site, clicking around, and Apollo said thoughtfully. “We still have the option of Hades and the hellhounds.”

“With the chaos spreading, I'm worried about controlling them. What if they're affected and go on the attack? We can't risk it.”

We both lapsed into silence.

“You're the god of foreseeing,” I said to Apollo. “Is there any way you can kickstart a vision? Maybe tell me where to find the boys or what they'll do next?”

His sigh didn't seem like a good sign. “I'll try, but chaos is, by its nature, chaotic. Unpredictable. With the Roland boys tied to Set and not working off any script, I'm not sure we'll know anything before it happens.”

“But there must be a way…”

Inspiration struck like one of Zeus's lightning bolts. If anyone had a direct line on the future, it was the Fates, the sacred sisters who measured out our time on earth, wove our destinies and cut us off at the point of death. Surely, they had a pattern in mind, a vision of how the weave would flow. If something disrupted their pattern, took power out of their hands and cut off threads before their allotted time, they'd have a vested interest in helping us restore order.

I didn't exactly have them on speed-dial, but I'd been on the point of death more than once in my life and in that Schrodinger's state, I'd heard them arguing over me. Specifically, Atropos, who'd been ready to come at me with her sheers and cut me from the great weave. I'd been saved only by her sisters intervening on my behalf. It turned out they watched my thread as avidly as some people watched soap operas or their favorite sports teams. Which said pretty significant things about the amount of drama in my life.

I wondered whether they still watched, and whether they'd answer if I called to them.

“Ouch,” Apollo said suddenly, rubbing at his temple.

“Sorry! Was I thinking too loudly?”

“You fairly well screamed. What do you have in mind?”

“I'm calling for the Fates.”

There was a pause. “And you just expect them to answer.”

“No, but… Well, yes, actually. They've done it before. Kind of.”

“You've met the Fates?” he asked, an odd note to his voice. “And lived to tell about it?”

“Uh, I was in pretty bad shape at the time. I'm not sure they expected me to remember.”

“
Tori
!” Apollo said.

“Hello!” a female voice piped up from the front seat.

I whipped my head around. The privacy screen was down, and instead of the driver, who'd been most decidedly male, there was a woman in his cap and coat craning around in her seat to face us, dark corkscrew curls spilling around her face. She had olive skin, a pert, upturned nose, and a look of girlish glee.

I recognized the voice. I didn't know which of the sacred sisters she was exactly, but I had a good idea from the smile on her face she wasn't my nemesis Atropos.

“Well hello,” Eros said, his voice dropping seductively. “You here to even out our numbers? Not that I was threatened by the odds, mind you.”