“Don’t,” hissed Miranda.
Tango resumed her hold on the unresisting Atlanta. “Why?”
“Something’s wrong. I can’t get a grip on her mind.” Miranda’s eyes went narrow. “I’ve felt this with Tolly sometimes. I told you he’s crazy? It’s almost impossible to keep a firm hold on a crazy mind. She...”
Abruptly, Atlanta’s chest heaved under Tango as the blond woman took a deep breath and then blinked. Miranda growled, her fangs bared in surprised annoyance. Atlanta stared at her. “What were you doing to me?” she asked in an awestruck voice. “What are you?”
Miranda ignored her and glanced at Tango. “She’s as crazy as Tolly,” she said bluntly. “I can’t touch her.”
Tango looked down at Atlanta. The woman was losing her composure now, her mouth open and her eyes wide as she stared at Miranda. Maybe... maybe Atlanta was telling the truth. Maybe she didn’t know anything about Riley, or the magic in the charm bracelet. Tango licked her lips as she thought. Maybe, if she really was insane, somebody or something was using her madness. “Atlanta,” she asked gently, “why do you still have a bedroom for Cheryl? Why do you still buy her clothes?” Atlanta’s mouth closed with an audible snap. Her face and her whole body started to shake. She looked up at Tango for a fraction of a second, then squeezed her eyes shut. “You went into Cheryl’s room,” she said accusingly, as though the act were one of deep sacrilege.
“You don’t think Cheryl is really dead, do you, . Atlanta?” Atlanta shook her head, starting to sob. Tango nodded to herself, then said quietly, “Get the photo albums, Miranda.”
“Why?”
“Because I think we’ve been going about this the wrong way. Someone is manipulating her.” She looked down at Atlanta with pity. The woman’s icy control had been a mask hiding her sad delusions. “We’re not going to be able to force her to tell us anything, but we might be able to make her remember.”
Miranda nodded and rose to fetch the photo albums. Atlanta sniffled and opened eyes that were already turning red. “Can I have a tissue?” she asked softly, wretchedly. “Please? In my purse?” Tango reached for the bag.
The leather writhed under her touch, as though the purse were alive. She snatched her hand away with a yelp. It only took her a second to recognize that the movement was just some kind of illusion, but it was a second of distraction.
Atlanta jerked her arm up and brought it around in a hard shove, sending the Kithain rocking backward. The same move brought her sliding out from under the smaller woman. “Miranda!” Tango barked sharply, grabbing at Atlanta’s legs. The blond woman kicked her in the jaw as she tried to scramble away, but Tango had her again. Atlanta twisted around, one arm coming back in a weak, desperate attempt at a blow. Tango reached to block it.
It wasn’t a blow. Atlanta had the canister of pepper spray in her hand. A stream of the fiery irritant splashed against Tango’s arm, then twitched to the side and hit her face and eyes.
The pain was excruciating, like choking on red-hot barbed wire. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe. Instinct brought her hands up to scrub at her face, but her other muscles were convulsing uncontrollably. Atlanta kicked free of her. “Miranda!” Tango tried to yell again, but there was no air in her lungs. She tried to force herself beyond the pain, making her chest work and sucking oxygen down her tortured throat. It seemed almost impossible.
She felt, rather than heard, the vampire sweep past her, but the sound of bodies slamming against the door was unmistakable. Atlanta cried out; Miranda was hissing with seething rage. There was a struggle and then a loud, wet snap. Atlanta’s cries became muffled shrieks of pain. “Try anything else,” snarled Miranda savagely, “and I’ll break the other one.” Cloth tore and then Atlanta’s cries became even more muffled. Someone — clearly Atlanta —• fell heavily to the floor, probably pushed, squealing in pain at the impact. Hands helped Tango to her feet. Miranda. “Are you all right?”
“Stupid,” Tango gasped. Or tried to. The effort sent her into a spasm of gagging. She was fortunate Atlanta hadn’t had a gun. Tears ran down her burning cheeks as her eyes tried to flush away the vile spray. Every breath was a struggle. Miranda had to hold her upright. The vampire’s grip on her shifted suddenly and she was lifted up into the air. Miranda was carrying her somewhere. After a moment, she sat her down on the floor, propping her against something. Tango heard the loud hum of a fan, then water running. The kitchen. Miranda gently pulled her head backward.
“Easy,” she said. “I’ve got water. I’m going to flush your eyes.” A gentle trickle of coolness ran onto Tango’s upturned face. She tried to force her eyes wide to let the water run over them, but the swollen lids would hardly obey her. The water helped though, reducing the pain and making thinking a bit easier. She pushed Miranda away a little bit, and concentrated, summoning up a spark of Glamour. It was like putting cool ointment on bums. Tango let the Glamour spread through her, then fumbled for a chain she wore around her neck. Inside a tiny crystal vial, worn like a pendant on the necklace, was a little sprig of heather. She popped the vial free of its setting and tilted the heather into the palm of her hand. The instant the sprig was in contact with her skin, she worked a healing cantrip. The touch of the Glamour turned fiery hot for a moment, burning away the effects of the pepper spray. She still felt weak, sore and nauseated, but the worst was past.
“Air,” she croaked, and then, “Atlanta.”
“Which?” asked Miranda. “Don’t worry. Atlanta’s not going anywhere.”
“No. Fumes from the pepper spray. Check her.” Pepper spray wasn’t meant to be used indoors. The fumes might not bother Miranda’s undead body, but Atlanta.... She opened her eyes for a moment, but the light felt too bright and she closed them again.
Miranda disappeared, but a moment later, Tango heard her curse and heave Atlanta up. The blond woman was retching and gasping. A window slid open, letting fresh night air into the apartment. Tango heard Miranda’s tread, heavy under Atlanta’s weight, pass the kitchen. “I’ll be right back,” Miranda called. “I’m taking her to the bedroom. The spray will be less strong there.” Tango drew another deep, painful breath and pushed herself to her feet. She didn’t want to wait for Miranda’s help. Her foot kicked a glass, the one Miranda had used to bathe her eyes, away across the floor. Eyes still closed, Tango felt for the sink, dropped her vial and the heather on the countertop, then groped around looking for any kind of soap. Her hand closed on a bottle of dishwashing liquid. Turning on the water, she poured soap in her hands and blindly washed the remains of the pepper spray from her face and arms.
“Tango?” Miranda came back into the kitchen. “What happened?”
“She was lying.” Tango awkwardly slipped the heather back into the vial and returned the vial to her necklace. One hand on the counter for support, she stumbled angrily toward the door from the kitchen into the hallway. “She might be crazy, but she still knows what she’s doing. She lied about Riley. She waited until I went soft, then made her move.”
Atlanta was curled up in a choking ball on the floor of Cheryl’s bedroom. There was a draft coming from the window in here as well. Tango put her hands under Atlanta’s arms and dragged her to her feet, shoving her toward the window and fresh air. Atlanta shrieked in pain and fell against the windowsill. “Careful,” Miranda warned Tango. “I broke her kneecap.”
Tango froze in the middle of her rage. “You broke her knee?”
“It could have been worse,” the vampire said defensively. “I thought you would want her alive.” “Thank you for that.” She saw a smudge of movement as Miranda turned away and felt bad. At least the vampire seemed ashamed of herself. It really could have been worse. She could have lost control completely, i’m sorry, Miranda. I mean it. Thank you.” Miranda shrugged and replied awkwardly, “I want to help you.” .
Tango looked at the other woman for a moment, then murmured again, “Thank you. Now let’s see what we can find out before someone comes to see if something’s wrong.” She pulled Atlanta away from the window, easing her to the floor and crouching beside her. “What do you know about Riley, Atlanta?”
“Go to hell!” the blond woman wheezed. She struggled out of Tango’s grip to sit up on her own.
“I don’t care about what else you’ve done. I just...” Atlanta spat at her, or at least toward her. Her mouth still trembling from the effects of the pepper spray, all she managed to do was spray saliva into the air. Most of it landed on herself. Tango heard Miranda growl. The vampire reached between the two other women and grasped Atlanta’s uninjured knee lightly. Atlanta choked suddenly.
Miranda nodded. Atlanta knew what could happen if she didn’t cooperate. “Where did you get the charm bracelet, Atlanta?” The blond woman didn’t answer and Miranda tightened her grasp slightly. Not enough, Tango knew, to harm Atlanta again, but certainly enough to frighten her into submission.
“I made a deal with a man from Pentex!” she gasped. Tango almost jerked away. Miranda looked at her
questioningly. Tango shook her head — the vampire probably hadn’t heard of the malevolent corporation, and it would take longer than they had to explain it. She knew only a little bit about it herself. Enough to know that it dabbled in dark spirit magic, magic that might have created the enchantment she could feel on the charm bracelet. “Why?” she asked Atlanta softly.
“So I could have Cheryl back for a little while. Just for a little while.” She started to shake again, but this time her emotion was real, not feigned. She looked down at the floor, rubbing her hand across the powder blue of the rug. “But they always took her away from me and I would have to find her again. At least they told me where to find her.”
“Atlanta.” Tango tried to make her voice soothing. She had been at least partly right. Someone was using Atlanta. But if Pentex had Riley.... “Do you know why Pentex had you kidnap the people they did?”
Atlanta’s expression was abruptly cold again, as cold as if her deal with Pentex were nothing more than a business arrangement. “Of course not!” she snapped. “They didn’t trust me that much. I was just their courier. They told me where to go, whom to put the bracelet on. They took care of the details and then let me enjoy my illusions for a few days.”
“She is crazy,” muttered Miranda.
“Get fucked, leech!” Atlanta snarled. She slapped Miranda’s hand away.
Tango grabbed Atlanta’s wrists. “What happened to the people Pentex had you kidnap? What happened after...” Her mouth twisted in disgust. “What happened after you turned them into Cheryl?”
Atlanta groaned, her icy strength fading as suddenly as it had appeared. “Pentex took Cheryl away. That’s all I know. I never asked.”
“Who took her away? Who contacted you when they wanted someone else kidnapped?”
“Different men. Different almost every time.” Her head lolled back and she started to shake again.
Damn! “What about the last time?” Tango demanded. “What about the red-haired man in San Francisco? How did Pentex contact you?” She shook the other woman. “How did Pentex contact you, Atlanta?” “It wasn’t Pentex. Just a man. He tried to make me think it was Pentex, but it wasn’t.” Atlanta reached up and wiped at her swollen eyes. “After sixteen years, I know Pentex. The man used to work for Pentex — I remember him from before -— but this time was different.”
“How was it different, Atlanta?” They were close now, Tango could feel it.
Atlanta looked at the tears shining on her hand. “He tried to hire me. For money. And he wouldn’t let me keep Cheryl at all. He made me give her up right away. Pentex never did that. The man sent a limo to pick us up at the airport, and it took us to his house.” She glanced at Tango. “I know the address.”
Tango found herself holding her breath. “What is
it?”
“Do you think that Cheryl is still there?”
Her voice was desperate. The question made no sense; Atlanta should have known that Riley could no longer be Cheryl if the charm bracelet was here in her apartment. She was sliding deeper into madness under the pressure of the questioning. Tango hesitated. “Yes,” she said finally. She took Atlanta’s hands. “And we
want to get her for you.”
“I know the man’s name, too.”
“What is it? What’s the address?”
Atlanta’s gaze fixed on something gleaming against the blue of the carpet. “Is that Cheryl’s bracelet?” she asked dreamily.
Miranda snatched the charm bracelet up and passed it to Tango. Tango pressed it into Atlanta’s hands. “Tell us where she is,” she urged.
“The house is at the end of Hillock Street, overlooking a park.” She ran the gold chain and its little charms through her fingers. “The man’s name is Jubilee Arthurs.”
Tango pulled away sharply, so sharply that she lost her balance and fell backward with a thump. Miranda glanced at her. “I know him.” Tango’s lips knotted into a thin, ironic smile. “I know him, Miranda.”
“What? How?”
She waved her hand. “From a long, long time ago. He’s a mercenary — at least he was when I knew him. Atlanta,” she asked, turning back to the blond woman, “did Jubi—”
There was a blissful smile on Atlanta’s face. She was fastening the charm bracelet around her own wrist. Tango cursed, grabbing for it. She was a moment too late.
“Cheryl,” Atlanta whispered happily. Her body shifted, like a Kithain shifting between human and faerie seeming. Two forms in the same space. For a moment, Atlanta and Cheryl coexisted, radiant expressions lighting their faces. Then... “No!” they screamed in unison, Atlanta in horrified anguish, Cheryl in terrible fright. The child buried her face in her hands. The woman lashed out at something. And they vanished. The charm bracelet fell to the rug.
Tango and Miranda were silent for several minutes. Then Miranda reached out and touched the spot where the woman — and her daughter — had been, moments before. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Tango shook her head slowly. “Magic works in a lot of strange ways. I wouldn’t touch that bracelet.” Part of her felt sorry for Atlanta, but only a part. Pentex couldn’t have been kind to the people she had delivered to them using the charm bracelet. Atlanta’s end seemed fitting. And they had a good, solid lead on Riley now. Jubilee Arthurs. But not tonight. Tango’s stomach twisted. She didn’t think she could stand to see him tonight. Not after this. She stood up. “Miranda.”