Destiny's Child (Kitsune series Book 3) (25 page)

And there are just so many cold showers a girl can take to keep herself focused.
I sighed. 
No choice really
.

Thump-pa!  Thump!

I went to the wall and banged on it, yelling in my deepest voice, “Hey!  Is somebody in there?  There better not be!”

I went to my door and waited with my eye to the peep-hole.  In under a minute, I saw one guy and two girls hurry into the hall, straightening clothes on the run.  They had panicked expressions as they fled past me, throwing watchful looks at my closed door.  They went out the hall door into the main school, letting the door swing shut behind them. 

Ménage a trois, you don’t see that everyday.

On impulse, I went next door and looked around in the tangerine room.  It was more New England décor but basically the same layout as my room
, but no Mexican pottery.  The bed was covered with an old fashioned quilt, heavily rumpled.  The night table had a box of pizza on it and a couple of six packs were in an ice chest.  A roll of multi-colored, latex condoms were coiled like a snake by the beer, as if to protect it. 

I plucked up the condoms
—they make great water balloons—grabbed the pizza box, snagged the beer, and hauled my pirate booty home.  My plunder went into the kitchenette.  I don’t like the taste of beer, but there was always Fran and Madison to think about.  They’d be coming over and they’d need something to wash down the pizza with.  As for the condoms, I’d discovered years ago that they make great water balloons.  It is too dangerous a world to go around unarmed. 

I’d just settled on the loveseat and powered up the TV when my door burst open.  See? And me without a water balloon handy.  Fortunately, it was only Maddy and Fran.  They’d no doubt heard school gossip that I was here and had tracked me down with a few inquiries.

“Grace!  Where the hell have you been?” Maddy shouted.

I waved my hands to indicate the room.  “Duh!”

“We flew over the woods with infrared scanners.  Nothing but those stupid mothmen around.”  Fran closed the door and turned to face me wide-eyed.  “Grace, you’ve gotten buggier!”

“Freaky, girl friend.  Does it hurt?”
Madison asked.

“No
, not really.  But—”

“Man, is Cassie’s going crazy!” Fran said.  “She says she can’t believe you ran out on her—again.”

“You can’t go crazy if you’re not sane,” I said.  “You can only go crazier.”

“You think that’s better?” Maddy said.

I gave it a half-second of thought.  “Uh, probably not.  I’ll give her a call.  Tell her I’m sorry, and call her ‘mom’ once or twice.  She’ll forgive me.”

Maddy was standing at the edge of the loveseat, still glowering down at me.  Fran joined her.  Both of them had their arms crossed under their boobs, fluffing them up.  I hate it when girls do that.  Though, if I had a bigger pair, I know I’d fluff all the time too. 

Maddy and Fran were still glaring. 

I put down the remote.  “What?”

Maddy’s hands went to her hips.  “Just what did you tell Van Helsing?”

“Pretty much everything.”

“About Elektra, too?”  Fran asked.

“Uh, that might have come up.”

“Grace!” Maddy screeched.  “He could stake her just for giving aid and comfort to the enemy.  Slayers look upon thralls as criminal accomplices to vampires.  Thralls have been known to
accidentally
catch a bullet or two when vamp nests are uncovered during the day.”

“Maddy should get to kill her own mom,” Fran said.

Maddy and I both looked at Fran.

She flushed and looked away.  “I’m just saying, if it’s necessary and all…”

“Look,” I said, “I made it clear that this was something you needed to handle yourself, but that Fran and I would have your back.  I think he’s okay with that.  Maddy, you’re the top slayer in this school.  He’s let you lead missions off campus before.  Why should this be any different?”

Maddy threw herself into a chair, sprawling like her bones were melting, her face staring at the ceiling.  “Because objectivity gets compromised when friends or family have gone over to the dark side for milk and cookies.”

“Oh, that reminds me.”  I jerked a thumb toward the kitchenette.  “I’ve got beer and pizza if you need to refuel.”

Fran ran for the kitchenette, calling back, “I could kiss you!”

“Me, too.” Maddy raised her voice so Fran could hear her.  “Bring me back a beer.  Or two.”

I shuddered at the thought of the three of us exchanging lip-locks, and picked up the remote.  “I think one threesome today is about my limit.”

Suddenly, Maddy was looking at
me
rather strangely.

Innocently, I met her gaze.  “What?”

TWENTY-FIVE

Virtue’s melted in the flame

where all good deeds are punished.

We love our heroes in the wind,

battered, bruised, and freshly tarnished.

                       
                                —No Good Deed

                            
                 Elektra Blue

I used the phone in the little office section to call both of my mothers.  I still intended to go underground—once Madison’s mom was dealt with—until then, I didn’t want my moms hearing from someone that I was here.  They’d charge over and try to talk me out of what I needed to do.  As it was, much drama still ensued through which I muttered “I know, I know,” “I’m sorry,” and “Really, I’m okay,” as the conversation required.  I held firm to not giving up my location, reminding us all how well that turned out last time.  After teary heartfelt endearment, I hung up my last call, weary as all my recent adventures came down on me like a mudslide.  I yawned as I went to the kitchenette and located a piece of pepperoni pizza.  It neither put up a fight, nor lasted long.  I opened the refrigerator door.  Someone had fetched me a six-pack of bottled water, leaving it by the beer.  Maddy had only allowed herself half a beer after all.  The rest had been put back. 

I pulled a water bottle out of the fridge, calling out, “Thanks, Maddy.”

We two were alone.  Fran was off to class.  They were taking shifts on me. 

Never turning her head my way, Maddy mumbled, “You’re welcome.” her words nearly lost in the TV sounds of the girl’s volleyball competition she was watching.  I had no doubt though that my distracted guard would turn all spinning-Tasmanian-devil-ninja should a threat suddenly appear. 

“I’m taking a power nap.”  Letting icy freshness chill my throat and tongue, I swigged half the bottle.  I recapped it and let myself walk into the side of the bed.  I crashed face-first onto bouncy blissfulness.  My mind shut down. 

I swam out of darkness into a dream.  Not one of mine.  This was a dream of Tukka’s, or one he’d commandeered.  The nighttime streets were rain-slick.  Puddles reflected the neon signs of assorted businesses.  I couldn’t read the writing—not unusual in a dream—but they were in Japanese so they’d have been a mystery to my waking mind as well.  Most dreams were fuzzy photographs of the waking world.  This was more drawn and brushed, a creature of multi-media.  Black lines gave form.  Opaque inks filled in a lot.  But there were watercolor washes as well.

A pedestrian in a black coat scurried by, huddled in on himself, suggesting this was not a good neighborhood to be in.  He cast me the quickest of glances, and thereafter ignored me.  I kept on walking in high heels, my body sheathed in a tight red dress with a side slit.  A gold dragon meandered down my skirt.  He clutched a pearl in one stitched claw.  I felt the top of my head and found my hair piled high, held in place by filigree-headed pins.

Ahead of me, I saw Tukka in profile, waiting at the mouth of an alley.  He looked well.  His teal blue skin glowed softly, as did his lavender eyes.  He felt stronger, radiating a deep inner peace that had been missing for awhile.  His big head swung my way as I arrived.  I gave him a hug.  A rumble vibrated his chest like a motor kicking over. 

“Hey, Tukka, what’s up?”

Glad you made it.  Big trouble coming.  We’ll be needed.

“Needed for what?”  I considered the way his imagination had dressed me.  “A sushi buffet?”

Listen.

I did.  I heard the throaty rumble of motorcycle bikes.  Soon, the street was flooded with dark-clad riders in leather jackets, boots, and helmets.  A few of them wore gray chains as accessories.  Headlight beams slashed the gloom.  The swell of light caught Tukka and me, pulling us out of shadows, but he didn’t seem concerned. 

“This is your big trouble?” I asked.

Nah, this happens all the time.  Wait and see what they run from.

The riders passed and the gloom thickened.  The machine growls and snarls faded, and I heard a metallic boom in the direction they’d come from.  The ground shook.  I tottered on my heels, and reached out to lean against Tukka.  He was forever my rock, and even more unmovable than ever. 

“What’s that?” I asked.

Tukka told you.  Big…

“Trouble,” I finished.

Another humongous
THOOM
shook the block.  Then another.  They were coming faster, taking on the pattern of footsteps.   

I had a wild suspicion.  “That’s a mecha, isn’t it?  You’ve got us trapped in an anime dreamscape.  Any moment now a giant-blue-monster-robot-piloted-by-hostile-aliens is going to walk down this street, flashing death rays and burping missiles.”

Not at all; giant-red-monster-robot.

Oh, God
.  “And how are we supposed to fight something like that?”

Tukka grinned at me. 
Glad you ask
. 
Better stand back.

I backed away, sliding along the rolled-down metal wall protecting someone’s storefront business.  Tukka stalked out into the empty street, passing parked vehicles that were small, just a little bigger than clown cars.  They looked even smaller compared to his two-ton mass.  Impossibly—except this was a dream—Tukka reared on hind legs like a Kodiak bear.  There were metallic clicks and clacks as sections of him rotated and flipped.  I didn’t know where the extra bulk was coming from, but he soon loomed to ten times his original size.  Through all the morphing, his skin became replaced with steel plating.  Fins jutted out of his back.  Around the ankles, his hind feet wore glowing bands.  Their radiant force lifted him a foot into the air, allowing him to hover. 

Tukka’s much-enlarged head was chrome with filaments of lavender light radiating from the eyes, patterning the canine face.  His jaw dropped open, revealing a place with a pilot’s chair and holo screen display boards showing the status of Tukka’s mecha systems.  Amplified, an eerie mechanized version of Tukka’s voice boomed from loudspeakers as the approaching footsteps grew ever louder. 

“Grace, get in!  Time of battle is upon us.”

THOOM!

I groaned. 
I just know I’m going to regret this. 
“Hey, there’s no ladder.  How am I supposed to get up there?”

THOOM!

“Your wrist.”

I looked at my wrist.  There was a platinum band there that lumped up like a wrist watch, though such a mechanism was missing.  The lump had a flashing lavender circle.  “What do I do with this?” I asked.

THOOM!

“
Raise the band over your head and yell, Metamoriffic!”

“That’s just silly,” I said.

THOOM!

Bypassing the mecha’s sound system,
Tukka touched thoughts with me:
You want to feel childish and stupid, or you want to get stepped on?

I raised the wristlet over my head and shouted, “Metamoriffic!”

Icy curtains of energy crackled around me like aurora borealis.  Pink and blue starbursts ghosted through me.  I could barely see myself.  My clothing dissolved in a quick decay.  Ribbons of teal light came out of nowhere, wrapping my limbs, my torso.  The bands fused into a clinging, tinfoil cat suit.  A vestigial cape mantled my shoulders, forming a cobra hood behind my head.  A cold kiss of light sparkled across my forehead, solidifying into a jeweled tiara.  Touching it, I could feel the fine filaments and little jewels.  A belt of interlocking platinum plates cinched my waist.  Lavender gloves and boots completed my look
.

THOOM
!

I studied myself as best as I could as the fireworks drained away.  “How is this as good as a ladder?” I asked.

THOOM!

Tukka’s mecha-voice answered, “You are Princess Shadow-Fox, heir to kitsune throne, Daughter of Shadows, the warrior of lust and justice!  You must believe in yourself—and jump.”

I rolled my eyes and jumped.

The force of my effort was expanded geometrically.  Even though this was not the ghost realm, I sailed in a high arc that carried into Tukka’s mecha jaws.  As I landed, I caught the pilot’s chair, turned, and slid into it.  The wrap-around holo-screens showed me little that made sense, but several of them gave me exterior views so I could see what was going on around me.