Authors: Jennifer Rardin
“I never joke about food.”
I wished he’d find something to kid about. My insides were wound up so tight a good guitarist could’ve played the opening riff to “Smoke on the Water” on my intestines.
“Cole is fine,” said Vayl.
“How do you know?” I snapped. “It’s not like we have any clue what her plan is. Hell, she might have already started snacking on his fingers. Which means even if we save him he’ll never be able to talk to Viv again!”
Albert laughed.
“You are such a dick,” I said under my breath.
“What did you say?” my father demanded.
“You’re a selfish dick!” I yelled.
“That’s better! I knew I taught you not to talk behind people’s backs!”
The turn to Clava Cairns appeared on my right a lot sooner than I’d anticipated. I slammed the brakes and spun the wheel, making my dad swear as I slid him into the window. Even Vayl had to clutch the door handle, and I wondered for a second if the vehicle was going to roll as the tires screeched like a pissed-off diva.
As soon as I had the vehicle straightened out again, I killed the lights.
“Is that such a good idea?” asked Albert.
“I can see fine,” I replied.
“What kind of approach were you considering?” asked Vayl as we rocketed past the sign that told us we had less than five kilometers to go before we reached one of Scotland’s most ancient
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landmarks.
“Quick and violent,” I said.
He considered. “That might be a problem if she has a shield in place like the one that felled us.”
“I’m driving a van toward them at seventy miles an hour. That gives you a little more than two minutes to thëo m>
His answer was to tighten his seat belt and reach back to get a good grip on Jack’s collar.
“Oohrah!” yelled my dad. “This takes me back! Anybody got a weapon I can use?”
“Goddammit, you’re staying in the van!”
“What if somebody sneaks in through the back? Or breaks a window? This glass isn’t bulletproof, you know.”
“I am driving an unfamiliar vehicle down a narrow road I’ve never seen before. Do you really want to be pissing me off right now?”
Vayl handed Albert his cane. “Just twist the blue crystal on the top,” he said. “The sheath shoots off, which many of my opponents have found detrimental to their health to begin with. Inside is a weapon made by an Indian sword smith known the world over for his secret forging techniques. The blade is over seven hundred years old and it has never lost its edge.”
I glanced in the rearview in time to see the respect squaring Albert’s jaw as he accepted Vayl’s sword. The fingers of one hand brushed lightly against the tigers stalking each other from one end of the sheath to the other. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll make sure it gets back to you in good shape.”
“Brownnoser,” I whispered to Vayl as he settled back into his seat.
“Whatever I have to do . . .” He let the sentence hang long enough that I shot a look his direction. His eyes, luminous in my Bergman-enhanced vision, made suggestions that sucked the breath right out of my lungs. I forced my attention back to the road, but didn’t try to hide my growing grin. Why was it that when we were about to pull something extreme he managed to wind up my nerves and spin them like a basketball on the tip of his finger? Hard to freak about the possible cannibalization of your friend, or your own imminent doom, with Mr. Right exuding confidence and desire in equal doses at your elbow.
I glanced at him one more time, let him see the smile that showed I understood his message: Relax. We’re going to kick ass like we always do. Because it’s us.
Cirilai sent a shot of warmth up my left arm. It linked Vayl and me in a way that suddenly became clear as we hurtled around another corner and found ourselves careening through the parking lot of Clava Cairns on our way to disaster.
For a second it was hard to see past the glitter, as if hundreds of reflectors had been set in the small cavities of the cairns and around the trunks of the nearest trees. Seriously? Could those all be diamonds? I wondered. Then I had no time left to ponder.
Eleven Scidairans, varying in age from eighteen to sixty, danced around a fire whose flames flared in vivid blues and purples. Did I mention most of the ladies were naked? My father, who had once gone for two weeks before realizing I’d gotten my hair cut short, noticed right away.
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“Son of a bitch, look at the tits on that brunette!”
“Yeah, Dad, we’re all about boobs in the CIA,” I snapped. “We have whole courses in how to tell the difference between the real ones and the fake ones.”
“Who cares?” my father responded. “As long as they bounce I’m a happy camper. How about you, Vayl?”
Hard to interpret the sound that came from my sverhamin’s throat. Either he was dying of asphyxiation or he thought my dad was the funniest man on earth but didn’t want me to know it.
Rather than scattering as soon as the headlights of our Alhambra hit them, the coven members huddled together, their long, stringy hair and heavily lined eyes combined with their lily-white skin to make them resemble unearthed corpses. The two who’d retained their clothes hung back, somehow familiar but too hard to place at our current speed.
As one of the coven screamed a phrase I didn’t recognize, the rest smashed their hands together. Whatever they threw must’ve been potent. Because I could smell it before it crashed into the windshield. A spell of such combined ill will that as soon as it hit, it took color and form. A green, hollow-eyed Fury with serpentine hair and fangs the size of my fist.
I turned my head, raising my right arm to protect it against the flying glass. Something screamed, sounding like a tire squealing on pavement, though by now we were bumping over the grassy path that led to the cairns. I felt the bracelet on my wrist shiver, as if I’d grabbed the handle of a working chain saw. When cool air hit my face instead of glass, I dared a look.
The bracelet had released its own form. An image of Tolly, looking miffed. At me. “For this I’m missing Animal Planet?”
I shrugged, my hands still full of speeding van. I aimed it straight for the coven as Tolly frowned. She grabbed the Fury by the throat just as it lunged for Vayl. Opening her mouth as big as she could, which was pretty wide considering her relative size at the moment, she bit its head off.
“I thought you were a vegetarian,” I said.
“I am,” she replied. “Philosophically speaking.”
“Huh.” I spun the wheel, sending the Alhambra into a high-speed turn that raised dead leaves, new grass, and dirt as high as the windows. Best of all, the coven members ran like spooked squirrels as we circled around for another go at them.
“Don’t I get a thanks?” she demanded.
“We’re not through yet,” I said.
“Well, I am, doll. I’ve only got so much juice for one night. And it’s used up.”
“Well, then, thanks. I owe you one.”
“Yes, you do.” Still chewing, she disappeared into the leaves of the nearest beech tree.
“I do not see Floraidh or Dormal among the crowd,” Vayl reported.
“I think Jack’s about to puke,” Albert said.
“Why’d you feed him that sausage, then!” I demanded.
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“Well, I didn’t know you were going to play bumper cars tonight!”
I stood on the brakes, yanking Grief out of its holster as I threw my dad the keys. “Get out!” I said.
“You mean if things start to go south—”
“No, I mean now! I just realized we’re in Clava Cairns after midnight, which is right where you shouldn’t be.” Because my mom’s a bitch who waits for no one. “So leave!”
I jumped out and rounded the front of the van to join my boss.
The coven had hidden behind trees and bushes. I’d spotted over half of them within the first ten seconds of my search. But they weren’t the threats. I was concerned about the ones I couldn’t place.
Something came flying at Vayl from the lower branches of a huge old fir tree. He dodged left to miss it, and it landed at my feet, a mutated pinecone that flamed first red, then black as it ate its way into the earth. I took aim, but Vayl beat me to her, leaping into the tree like a panther, his powers leaving a wake of frost behind him. She dropped first, a frozen corpse, touched by the cantrantia of a wraith. He followed, landing in a crouch, his fangs bared as he searched for his next victim.
Movement inside the cairn we’d toured earlier caught my enhanced vision. “Come out of there right now or I start shooting!”
“Don’t! We’re on our way!” A line of three women paraded down the narrow path. The GhostCon lanterns, already lit in anticipation of the tours that would begin in an hour or so, shone on their pale and unrepentant faces.
“Raise your hands!” I yelled. I counted palms, coming up with an uneven number just as the third woman jerked her hidden hand out and pointed at me, as if accusing me of some heinous crime. I hit my knees and rolled behind a standing stone, my hair rising off my scalp as one of the cairn rocks spun to the spot I’d just vacated and exploded. I covered my head until the hail of fragments slackened, then popped cover just long enough to bring her down. She’d probably been a grandmother.
A piercing scream from deeper in the woods brought me to my feet. “Cole,” I whispered, though my mind insisted no man could take his voice that high, not even under torture.
I ran in that direction, holding out my free hand for Vayl to grab. Together we raced into the forest, a couple of night creatures prepared to deal death to anyone who blocked our paths.
We stopped just outside a clearing made unnatural by the creatures inhabiting it. I was sure it was only the second time Inland Taipans had ever set foot, er, scale in Scotland.
Floraidh stood with her back to us, trying to get Cole to vacate the spot where Dormal had dumped him, probably during the wreck. She’d rammed the Big Red into a huge spruce, hitting it so hard that the headlights shone into one another. I couldn’t see her at all. Maybe she’d been thrown under the low-growing branches of another tree.
A ravine drew a line between us and them. The depth of a grave and just wide enough that even a world-class long jumper couldn’t make the leap, it divided the clearing on the diagonal without even a fallen tree to simplify the crossing. Moss covered the ground on both sides, and in places small patches of white wildfë ofarilowers reflected the moon’s light. The place probably made
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visitors gasp in delight during the day. Right now it made me want to puke. Mainly because Floraidh kept slapping Cole, and his only response was a groggy roll of the head.
Vayl touched my arm, calling my attention to Dormal. She’d just walked out of the trees on the opposite end of the glade, but still on Floraidh’s side of the land split. The collision hadn’t improved her hair, leaving it ratty and full of pine needles. Her dress, a dark brown sack that might’ve doubled as a grain tote, had ripped at the hem, but she’d left the shard of material to hang like a lifeless tail. She resembled a homeless woman who’s just gotten her fix for the day. Her mouth moved without emitting sounds. Her fingers rubbed together as if she was fantasizing about money. And she scented of burning pitch.
But none of that mattered.
For her it was all about the snakes, at least a hundred of them this time, slowly closing in on Floraidh and her captive. Now I understood why Cole thought he’d seen Dormal crying in the castle. Sweat ran down her cheeks like tears, and her shoulders shook from the effort it took to control the animals as they slithered over one another’s bodies, often rising three or four feet like cobras in an effort to intimidate each other. And when that didn’t work they struck, trading bites that left both reptiles twitching in the wake of their brethren.
We’d finally found Bea. Now it all clicked into place. Of course I hadn’t picked up on Bea’s otherness, because I was already sensing Dormal’s abilities and writing them off to Scidair.
Floraidh looked over her shoulder, the whites of her eyes practically glowing in the dim light of the glade. “Dormal, you have to understand!” Floraidh cried. “This is the only way to bring Edward back—”
“Fuck Samos!” Dormal cried, temporarily losing track of her spell and the snakes as a result. The mass stopped. Milled. Began to fight. Those on the outskirts glided off to find more reasonablesized prey. “I told you we didn’t need him! But would you listen? No, you were smitten the moment he slithered into Tearlach. Just like one of these Damned Ones, he was. Lovely and smooth on the outside. But dripping with venom! I won’t lose you to him twice! Better you should die to one of his nature than fall prey to his intrigues again!”
Floraidh gave a mighty heave that ripped Cole’s sleeve, exposing most of a lean, tanned shoulder. But she still managed to pull him to his feet just in time to save his toes from a curious Taipan tongue. “Dormal, please! We’ll do anything you say! Just don’t let us die this way!”
Cole’s eyes finally focused. “Did somebody say die?” He looked down. “Shitsuckers! The ground’s moving!” He tried to back up, couldn’t because of the trees crowding him, and shook Floraidh until her head rocked. “Do something!” he yelled.
Floraidh’s response was to scamper up the nearest branch, leaving Cole to try to haul himself up after her. It didn’t work as well for him since his brain hadn’t quite reconnected with his extremities. But then she grabbed his outstretched hand. Moments later they were perched beside each other like a couple of enormous bats, Cole bitching at Floraidh like she hadn’t just thrown him in the back of an overgrown golf cart and hauled him into the woods to act as her lab rat.
“Why didn’t you throw some kind of counterspell down there?” he demanded. “You’re supposed to be the big bad coven leader. Kick some ass already!”