Chaos Bites (11 page)

I lifted my gaze and scowled at the heavy, dark clouds, imagining just one single beam of light. “Damn, I wish there was sun.”

The lead Iya was only a few feet away when a small ray of gold pierced the storm and shone across his face. He went up in flames like a Buddhist monk. The heat forced me back a step, then two. I bumped into Luther.

“What did you
do
?” he whispered.

I wasn’t sure. I could command a storm, bring the lightning and the thunder and the rain. I could even create a magic tattoo for shape-shifting by wielding that lightning like a mystical needle complete with supernatural ink—hence the phoenix on my neck.

But get
rid
of a storm?
Bring
the sun? Hadn’t seen that coming.

I tilted my face to the sky, imagining a giant split in the charcoal twilight. I envisioned the bright yellow daylight bursting through. I thought about it so hard, I broke a sweat. Reaching upward with both hands, I smacked my palms together then pushed them apart.

And the sun came out exactly as I’d wanted it to.

CHAPTER 11

Within minutes every last Iya was gone. I glanced over my shoulder. Luther appeared as shocked as I was.

“Lucky you didn’t take off the collar,” he said.

“Lucky,” I echoed. There’d have been a lot of blood before the ashes that way. Been there, done that, didn’t like it. Ashes and blood created a paste reminiscent of tar-and-feathering. I much preferred this method. The wind stirred, and the remains of the Iyas simply fluttered away.

“Why didn’t Ruthie tell me I could bring the sun?” I demanded.

Luther frowned. “Got me.”

“Well—” I waved my hand. “Get her ass out here.”

Luther lifted a brow. “You really want to go with that statement?”

“No.”

Ruthie had raised us with love and an iron fist, and she saw no reason to change what worked even when the kids became adults. Since Ruthie’s fist came in the shape of Luther’s hand these days, any disrespect and I might wind up snacking on my teeth.

“Just let me talk to her.”

Luther did his thing, and this time Ruthie appeared. “Lizbeth, you can’t be callin’ me all the time. I got things to do. Children to manage.”

“The world to save.”

“Darn right.”

“Why didn’t you tell me I could bring the sun and exterminate the Iyas?”

Luther’s body, usually in constant, teenage motion, stilled. His head tilted. “Say what?”

“I thought I had to go vamp, and I almost did. Then—” I wasn’t sure how to explain what I
had
done, or how. “I brought the sun and chased away the storm and they all—”

I made a gesture that indicated fire, explosion, kaboom. She got the picture.

“I nearly took off my collar.” I shuddered at the thought of what would have happened then. “You should have just told me to bring the sun.”

“I would have been happy to.” Luther’s eyes narrowed and his mouth tightened. “If I’d known you could.”

I’d been rubbing the grit of a hundred Iyas out of my eyes, but at her words I dropped my hand. “Say what?” I repeated.

“I sent you because I knew your vampire could deal with several hundred Iyas, and Jimmy could deal with your vampire. I had no idea that you could bring the sun.”

“And why can she?”

I turned just as Jimmy joined us. Sweat had drawn squiggly lines in the dust on his face. Streaks of blood—his? theirs?—marred his hands and forearms. Tiny burn holes randomly dotted a T-shirt that proclaimed
TEAM EDWARD
. Sanducci was a real comedian.

Jimmy’s
cover
for his globe-trotting-demon-killing was portrait photographer to the stars. He was a genius with a camera. Almost as good as he was with a silver knife.

His photos had graced magazines, books, posters, CD cases, once even Times Square. Everyone who was anyone understood that if Sanducci took their photograph, they had arrived, or they very soon would.

However, there was one final test of glory—Sanducci and his T-shirts. He wore them all the time—with jeans or a jacket, for breakfast or bed. But no matter how many were stuffed into his post box every month—and there were a lot—he only wore the shirts of those he had photographed. It became a stamp of stardom if Sanducci himself was photographed in your shirt.

Sanducci gave great photograph. Beneath the mess, he was just short of beautiful. Olive skin, black eyes, hair so dark it appeared blue in certain lights, and a face that had been known to stop traffic in small to midsized towns. For just a few seconds, I enjoyed staring at him. Then Summer Bartholomew appeared, and all my warm, fuzzy feelings evaporated.

“Who’d you bang lately?” she asked.

My fingers curled into my palms. Why was it that every time we met, I wanted to slug her?

Oh, yeah. Hated her guts.

Even after a dusty, bloody battle with storm monsters, she appeared the same as always—blond and petite, with wide blue eyes and perfect pink lips that matched her perfect pink nails. Her usual outfit—skintight jeans, size zero, a fringed halter top, boots, and a white cowboy hat—was in place and there wasn’t a speck on it.

“Rodeo fairy,” I muttered.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Summer put her arm through Jimmy’s.

Jimmy jerked away. Summer’s face fell. She blinked as if she might cry. I’d feel sorry for her if she hadn’t sold her soul to Satan. Literally.

“Any word from your boss?” I asked.

Her gaze narrowed. Behind the pretty blond facade, something slithered.

Summer was a fairy. She could practice glamour, a type of shape-shifting that made her more attractive to humans. However, since her magic didn’t work on anyone on an errand of mercy—and that was pretty much my schedule 24/7 these days—I figured she was as annoyingly cute as she appeared. I’d always thought there was more to her than we knew about.

I’d been proven right when we discovered she was moonlighting for the other side. Her excuse: She’d had to save Jimmy. The price? Her soul. Lucky for Summer I’d sent the soul snatcher back to hell before he could collect. She hadn’t been all that grateful.

“Kiss my ass,” she said sweetly.

Ruthie had ordered Jimmy and Summer to work together so Jimmy could keep an eye on her. I kind of thought that was rewarding Summer for bad behavior. All she’d ever wanted was Sanducci. Too bad he loved me.

“What are you doing here, Lizzy?”

Or he had. Now I wasn’t so sure.

“You don’t look happy to see me.”

Summer snorted. I flicked my hand, and she flew backward a few feet, landing on her perfect little butt with a thud and a grunt. Dust cascaded over her pristine boots. A deep growl rumbled from inside that did not match her outside. She lifted her arms and shot sparkling dust from the tips of her fingers.

The sprinkles hit me in the face, cool and a little sticky. I’d closed my eyes, and when I opened them diamonds seemed to twinkle on my eyelashes. But I remained on my feet, and I felt no compulsion to cluck like a duck. Instead, I stuck out my tongue.

Jimmy sighed. “It’s hardly fair to zap Summer when she can’t zap you back.”

“There’s fair”—I let my gaze wander over the fairy as she got up, trying to dust the dirt from her jeans but somehow managing to grind it in farther—“and then there’s fun.”

Jimmy’s lips twitched. So did mine. Sometimes it seemed as if nothing had changed.

Then his mouth tightened, his eyes hardened, and he turned away.

Other times I knew that everything had.

There were so many things about Jimmy I no longer understood, so many years we’d been apart, years when I thought he’d been gallivanting around the world boinking his way through the
Sports Illustrated
Super-model Club. He probably had been. But in between boink-a-thons he’d been killing demons. A lot of them.

“You weren’t aware she had the power of the sun?” Jimmy’s voice contained not even the slightest tingle of warmth.

“No,” Ruthie said softly. “Could be a power she inherited from her mother.”

“A phoenix was a symbol of the sun god in Egypt,” Jimmy murmured. “So I’d say that was possible. Ever see her mom do what she just did?”

“
She’s
right here,” I said.

Everyone ignored me.

“No,” Ruthie repeated. “Though that doesn’t mean she couldn’t.”

“Sawyer?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

Ruthie’s dark, bland gaze met Jimmy’s. Ruthie was always sure.

“What about her father?”

“Not a clue who he is.”

“Is that not a clue,
not
a clue?” I put in. “Or not a clue but you secretly
have
a clue.”

“What?” Jimmy asked.

“She said she didn’t know who my mother was, either, but surprise! She did.”

“I still think you slept with something else and absorbed another power,” Summer muttered.

“I still think I should ram a steel rod down your throat and bury you with rowan so you never rise.” I shrugged. “But we can’t always get what we want.”

“Girls,” Ruthie said. “Enough.”

Summer and I shut up, satisfying our craving for physical violence by glaring at each other.

“Why are you here?” Jimmy asked again.

“Ruthie said you needed help.”

Jimmy scowled at Luther. “I could have handled this.”

“Yeah, you were doing a great job,” I muttered, and earned a glare from Sanducci that matched the equally vicious one I was still getting from the fairy.

A bright flash of light drew his gaze past me, and he paled despite the olive tone of his skin. “What the fuck?”

I spun. Lord only knew what could make Sanducci pale like that.

Faith—once again a chubby baby—had her face pressed to the window. Her gray eyes shone luminescent with unshed tears as she pounded against the glass. Her naked chest hitched as she drew in a breath that would no doubt break every ear drum in the vicinity.

Once again she’d developed human skills in far too short a time to
be
human. A few days ago I’d had to support her neck like a just-born infant. Now she stood on her own two feet, albeit leaning against the car door, and pounded the glass hard enough to make it rattle. If this kept up, she’d be sneaking joints and dating inappropriate young men by next Tuesday.

Something shot past me—a flare of motion too fast to distinguish an identity. I figured it was Luther, with Ruthie manning the controls. Instead, Summer materialized next to the car.

She tugged once on the door, then zapped it with make-me dust, which, from what I’d seen of it so far, worked just as well on things as people. Next time she touched the handle, the door swung open, and she swept Faith into her arms.

The baby hugged her as if they were long-lost relatives. I wanted to stalk over there and yank the child away, but I refrained.

Summer rounded on me, lips pulled back from her teeth, face furious. “You can’t leave a baby in the car like a dog! You shouldn’t even leave a dog in the car if it’s over seventy degrees, let alone ninety in the sun like it is now.”

“The sun wasn’t out until I brought it out,” I said mildly. “And she wasn’t a baby when I left.”

That put a stop to Summer’s tirade.

She frowned, leaned back, stared into the child’s face, then glanced at me, Jimmy, and Ruthie-Luther in turn. “You’d better explain that.”

Luther took a breath to answer, and I shook my head then crossed to the car. Summer inched out of my way as I passed. Smart move, though I wouldn’t have shoved her when she had the baby in her arms.

Faith gurgled and cooed. I glanced at her with a smile—believing for an instant that she was gurgling and cooing at me—but instead she patted Summer’s face and babbled to her like they were BFFs.

“I thought fairies
stole
babies,” I muttered as I leaned inside and grabbed Faith’s blanket.

“That’s goblins.”

Backing out, I nearly bumped my head when I straightened too quickly. “Goblins,” I repeated.

“Little people. Mischievous to the point of evil. Their laugh curdles milk. They hide small objects from humans.”

“Like babies?”

Summer lifted one shoulder and went back to playing
goo-goo
with Faith.

“If goblins were stealing babies, wouldn’t there be a lot more talk about missing tots?”

“Who says there isn’t?” Summer asked.

True.

“Except goblins only take babies when they have one to give.” Summer crossed her eyes and scrunched up her face. Faith giggled, the sound pure joy, and I couldn’t help but smile before glancing at Jimmy.

He wasn’t even looking at me. Instead he stared at Faith as if she’d just sprung from the ozone, which she kind of had.

“No one notices they’ve got a goblin instead of a baby?” I found this hard to believe. But so many things were.

“Goblins leave changelings behind,” Summer said.

“Which are?”

“Ugly goblin babies.”

“Still not getting why no one notices this.”

“Because an ugly goblin baby is an adorable human one.”

Shades of
The Munsters
. The ugly cousin was really quite a swan.

I met Ruthie’s eyes. “What are we doing about this?”

“It’s rare, Lizbeth. When it happens, we do our best to track down the goblin and take back the baby.”

There was so much I didn’t know about this world, my job, hell, everything.

“Why are we talking about goblins?” Jimmy demanded.

“I needed to know.”

“Not right this second. The last changeling I heard about was a good three years ago. The Nephilim have bigger fish to fry. Like you.”

“And you,” I countered.

Jimmy shrugged, unconcerned as always with the legion of half demons that wanted us dead. “What was she when you left her?”

I figured show was always better than tell, so I tossed Faith’s binkie over her head. The bright flash was muted by the pink flannel. Summer’s eyes widened, and she nearly fumbled the baby as the child’s bones shifted, and her soft bronze skin sprouted fuzzy black hair. At least I wasn’t the only one with butter fingers.