Grave Dance Part 23

"Stay inside," he said again. The door clicked shut.

I stood in the spot where he'd left me, listening to the sounds of his neighbors drifting through the walls. d.a.m.n, this is really happening. I was on the run from Faerie.

I felt the need to do something, to prepare or retaliate. But there was nothing I could do but wait.

Well, I can at least tell my housemates what's going on. Not that I'd tell them not to worry about me because I was definitely worried about me, but maybe they'd have some suggestions of how to get out of this. Caleb, at least, might have some idea.

I dug through my purse, searching by feel for the cool plastic case of my phone. Finally I found it. There would be no dialing blind, but my eyes had been an issue often enough that I'd purchased the phone knowing this could happen. I traced my fingers along the edge until I found one of the few nontouch screen b.u.t.tons on the phone.

"Call Caleb," I said, speaking as clearly as I could for the voice-recognition software. A moment later the phone beeped as it dialed.

The phone rang seven times, and just as I was sure it would switch to voice mail, Caleb's voice answered on the other end.

"Thank goodness. The FIB are after me. They plan to drag me to Faerie and-"

"No, I'm sorry, Holly isn't here right now," Caleb said, cutting me off.

What? Oh, no. "Are they there? At the house?" "Yeah. She said something about a headache and went to lie down, but she must have felt better because she left shortly after. I haven't seen her since."

My heart, already hammering in my chest, dropped. "Caleb, is Holly missing?"

"Yeah, a letter? I found it. Her bed, sure."

A letter? It must have been important or he wouldn't have mentioned it.

I stopped talking, my throat too tight to pa.s.s words, but my part of the conversation wasn't important anyway. Caleb paused for a moment, as if listening to someone on my end of the line; then he said, "I don't know if I'll be here when she gets back, but if I see her, I'll tell her."

Didn't know if he'd be there? Oh, f.u.c.k, they were going to haul Caleb to Faerie. Agent Nori had threatened that acquaintances with independent fae were dangerous, but I'd thought she meant dangerous to me, not to my friends.

"What should I do?" I whispered the question around the lump clogging my throat.

Caleb was silent for a long moment before saying, "Good luck." Then he disconnected.

Chapter 24.

I paced around Falin's apartment, my shins occasionally sc.r.a.ping this odd bit or my hands. .h.i.tting that one. It was a good thing he didn't have much furniture.

I still clutched my phone, but I had no one left to call. Holly wasn't answering, Caleb was on his way to Faerie, and Tamara's phone was off, presumably because she was sleeping.

"What do I do now?" I asked the darkness hanging over my eyes.

As if in answer, a loud metallic groan cried out behind me. I turned slowly, trying to identify the sound, but the only thing I could compare it to was the scream of an overtaxed support beam. Maybe the building is settling? I wasn't sure I wanted to be on the seventh floor if the building was making noises like that. Another creak sounded, this time followed by a loud pop.

What are the chances this isn't bad?

I tore down my shields, blinking at the explosion of color and light as I saw the world through my psyche. I glanced around, orienting myself as best I could in the suddenly crumbling landscape. I was in front of the large sliding gla.s.s door that led out onto a balcony-a balcony currently groaning under the weight of two ma.s.sive paws that led up to muscular legs as thick around as my torso and covered in tan fur. But though the fur suggested mammal, when the front legs landed, they were hairless and ended in talons, like a bird. Huge feathered wings beat the air, blocking the sun. Folding the sixteen-plus wingspan against its back, the beast hopped off the rail and ducked its ma.s.sive eagle-shaped head under the base of the upstairs balcony.

Gryphon.

Or at least it looked like a gryphon. It was a magical construct, definitely. Its outline shifted slightly, its form slightly unreal, but where the other constructs had been misty outlines-this one looked more . . . congealed. I guess I found the missing souls.

Now I wished they would leave again.

The gryphon smashed one ma.s.sive paw through the door. The gla.s.s shattered in an explosion of sound and shards of glittering shrapnel. I ducked, clutching my arms over my head, but the deadly part wasn't the flying gla.s.s. It was the d.a.m.n gryphon.

It screeched as it tore at the metal support bar. That's not going to hold it back for long. I glanced at the front door. I could run. Having to tear through the building would slow it down, but I was guessing it had another tracking charm tied to me. If I ran, it would find me, and who knew how many people would get hurt in the process? Plus, the d.a.m.n thing could fly-if I left the building I'd make myself an easier target. At least inside the building it wouldn't be able to swoop down on me.

But I can't just stand here.

I pulled my dagger. It buzzed in my senses, excited about the prospect of being used. I frowned and glanced from it to the gryphon. I had a five-inch enchanted blade and it had talons as long as my forearm and reach to go with them. But it's not real.

But it wasn't completely unreal either.

I stumbled back as one giant taloned foot swiped at me. The creature shoved its arm all the way to the shoulder through the busted doorway, and in the part of my vision peering into the land of the dead, the ma.s.s of shimmering souls twisted. A face floated to the surface, a face caught in a never-ending scream, and one I recognized. The skimmer from the rift.

I didn't have time to stare. The gryphon stuck its head through the s.p.a.ce where the sliding gla.s.s door had been, wriggling to get that taloned foot closer to me. Tell me it's stuck.

I've never been that lucky.

It wriggled more, making enough room for its other foot. d.a.m.n. I looked down at the dagger in my hand again. That thing will tear me to pieces before I get anywhere near close enough to do damage. The dagger didn't agree. I could feel that it thought we'd be fine. I wasn't as confident, and I was the one with the rendable skin. The dagger wasn't a good option. What else did I have?

The skimmer's face was still screaming silently as it stared out of the gryphon's shoulder. Being able to see souls had always creeped me out. They were shimmery, full of light, and looked so tempting to touch. Typically a bad idea, but maybe . . .

I reached into the creature with the part of me that touched the dead. There was more than just the skimmer in that congealed soul mist, but he was the one I could see, could focus on. Centering my magic on the little bit of the skimmer I could see, I pulled with my power.

Souls don't like the touch of the grave. It's unnatural for them. They are what make a person alive, and the grave is for the dead. But these souls were already outside their bodies and more ghost than not. I pulled, pouring power into the effort. The unearthly wind of the land of the dead whipped around me, mail blew off the table and whirled around the room, the cushions on the couch rumpled, billowing in the onslaught, and the gryphon's feathers quivered around its head. Still I pulled, and like warm salt.w.a.ter taffy being tugged on, the soul peeled away from the rest of the soul mist.

As the soul separated from the ma.s.s, the gryphon shrank, as if the construct couldn't support its ma.s.sive size with its diminished energy source. The gryphon shrinking was definitely good-except that it was now small enough to fit through the door.

It hurtled forward, its talons grasping for me. I dove sideways, the air rushing out of me as I hit the ground. And people on TV make it look so easy. The skimmer soul I'd freed hovered in the air, looking confused as he blinked at me. Then his eyes landed on the gryphon and he screamed.

"Don't just scream. Help me. Distract it!"

Shades have to obey me. Ghosts don't and he didn't.

The gryphon was still large enough that it had trouble turning in the tight s.p.a.ce in the small apartment, which bought me a couple of seconds. I used them. Thrusting with my power, I grabbed another soul in the mist. I wasn't being picky. I just grabbed and heaved. I poured power into the mist, and another soul, this one an older woman I was pretty sure I'd seen at the morgue, jettisoned free.

The gryphon shrank again. We were now the same height. Of course, it still had two long-taloned front legs and a razor-sharp beak, so it wasn't exactly an even fight, but it was at least closer.

It lunged at me, that sharp beak open as it screeched in rage. I dropped, intending to roll out of its way. Unfortunately, my coordination wasn't quite up to the task. I ended up under the gryphon as its talons pierced the couch. The sharp claws on its back feet were dangerously close to my face, but the position did give me an un.o.bstructed view of its belly.

The dagger in my hand buzzed, urging me to move, and I thrust the enchanted blade into the soft skin under the gryphon's rib cage. A shock ran up my arm as I encountered muscles harder to pierce than I'd expected, but the dagger sank to the hilt. "You don't exist," I told it, twisting the dagger to drive the blade deeper.

The gryphon exploded into a cloud of shimmery soul mist. A copper disk the size of a dinner plate dropped onto my chest, knocking what little air I had left from my lungs. Coughing, I let my arm drop, barely managing to hold on to the dagger as my hand hit the carpet. Too close. Way too close.

I rolled to my knees. My whole body felt like jelly as the spike of adrenaline drained from my muscles. It took me two tries to climb to my feet. I closed my shields.

Nothing changed.

I blinked. I'd expected to go blind again, but the Aetheric still swirled around me, the land of the dead showing me the world as ruins. But I wasn't touching those worlds. The wind from the land of the dead had stopped cutting across my skin and whipping my hair into a frenzy and I couldn't feel the Aetheric energy I saw swirling through the air.

Okay, so I push my magic and I go blind and I push it more and I end up seeing but not touching other planes. I think I prefer it this way. Though as I looked around I realized I wasn't seeing the mortal realm at all. I was only seeing how it reflected in other planes of existence. That could get confusing.

I brushed my hands against my rotted pants-I seriously hoped they weren't that way in reality-and resheathed my dagger. When I looked up, the cloud of souls around me had thinned. The raver-collector moved silently across the room, gathering souls and sending them on their way.

"I could have seriously used your help earlier." Like ten minutes earlier. Before the gryphon had almost taken me apart.

She shrugged and tossed her bright orange dreadlocks over her shoulder as she s.n.a.t.c.hed the soul of the woman I'd pulled free of the gryphon. "Didn't know they were here earlier." She grabbed the skimmer. With a flick of her hand, he vanished. He'd been the last lingering soul.

"Wait!"

She glanced at me, lifting one arched eyebrow.

"Can you tell Death I need to talk to him?"

"Death?" She gave me a genuinely confused look.

I cringed. Of course she wouldn't know my nickname for Death. d.a.m.n him not telling me anything, not even his name. "You know, smoking-hot collector. Dreamy eyes. Easy smile. Favors faded jeans and tight black shirts."

"And you call him Death?" She snorted a laugh, and the dreads snaking over her shoulders quivered as she shook her head. "Girl, you really are special."

"Will you tell him I need to see him or not?"

She c.o.c.ked a hip forward, placing her hand on it. "I'm not a messenger." Her fingernails made soft thudding sounds as she drummed them against the bright orange PVC material. "And I'd rather he stay away. There are reasons for our laws."

Laws? "Fine, then I'll talk to you." I pushed myself upright. At my full height I was taller than she was, even with her wearing platform boots, but she didn't look impressed. I hoped I was about to change that. "You have a rogue reaper on your hands. He's jerking souls out of people who aren't dying, and those same souls are showing up powering magical constructs. I want to know how to stop him."

The haughty expression dropped off her face. Then, without a word, she vanished.

Well, that could have gone better. I looked around at the destruction that was Falin's apartment. The couch was shredded, the TV was overturned and smashed, the iron supports in the walls were visible behind busted drywall, and gla.s.s shards littered the carpet. Oh, yeah, and then there was the fist-sized hole into the Aetheric. So much for Falin's security deposit.

Sirens sounded in the distance, drawing nearer. d.a.m.n. I couldn't stay here. Once the cops got to the scene, the FIB wouldn't be far behind. There was no way a giant gryphon flying around downtown Nekros had gone unnoticed, but I needed to.

Chapter 25.

I managed to hail a cab as soon as I reached street level, which I took as a good sign that I was supposed to get the h.e.l.l away from the scene. I wished I could have left a message for Falin, to let him know I was all right, but I had no idea who else might find it first. He would know by the disk and the hole into the Aetheric-which I was leaving around like calling cards these days-that a construct had attacked and that I'd dispelled it. Hopefully I'd be able to let him know I was okay once I got, well, wherever I was going.

Unfortunately, you can't just tell a cabbie to drive you somewhere safe. An actual address is a must.

I gave him an address for two streets away from my house and then spent the entire drive fretting over that decision. The FIB had been at the house earlier, so what was the chance they weren't watching it and waiting for me to return home? Of course, only an idiot would go home, and if I worked on the a.s.sumption that they a.s.sumed I wasn't an idiot and thus wouldn't go home, it would actually be one of the safest places possible.

Yeah, okay, it was c.r.a.ppy logic, but the letter Caleb had mentioned was there. I knew the fae had taken Caleb, but I had no idea what had happened to Holly. Caleb's cryptic message made it sound like the letter would give me a clue.

It took the rest of the money in my purse to pay the cabdriver, and that was with so little of a tip that he almost ran over my toes as he drove away. Night had fallen while I'd been in the car, and I was actually thankful that my vision was on the fritz-light didn't matter so much when you weren't looking at the world through physical eyes.

I walked through backyards, stepping around forgotten toys and over sprinklers. As I neared Caleb's yard, I tried to stay out of view of the street. I didn't know where hidden watchers might be lying in wait, but whenever I'd had to stake out a place-not often, but for one case involving a falsified will and some misappropriated items-I'd stayed in my car, watching for movement in the house.

"Hey, Alex," a male voice said, and I was so tense I actually dropped flat to the ground before I realized the voice belong to Roy. "Man, I've been looking all over for you."

I pushed myself out of the dirt. "That's good, because your timing is perfect."

"Oh, you have no idea. I saw Bell run off last night, so I went after him. Man, that glowy stuff messed with his head."

I guessed that by "glowy stuff" Roy meant raw Aetheric energy. I nodded. "Okay, but, Roy-"

He didn't even pause, but paced as he spoke faster, his hands doing half the talking with him. "Well, he and a few of his followers got away, and they were, like, high on magic. Casting all kinds of random s.h.i.t. Until they crashed. Now they want more. Bell sent his men to find you. Said he was going to make you open a path for him."

Great. "He'll have to get in line."

I waited to see if Roy would continue, but he'd apparently exhausted the story.

"So, uh, why are you hanging out here in the dark?" he asked as if he'd only just noticed the location.

"Because the FIB are after me. I need you to do me a favor. Can you see if anyone is in the house?"

"No. I just came from there. It's empty."

Perfect.

I stayed low as I crossed the backyard. Once I reached the back porch, the wrongness in the house hit me and I stopped. The wards had been busted open from the outside, and they had clearly put up a good fight before they went. I let my senses stretch beyond the now defunct wards, searching for any traps or alarm spells. There weren't any. At least, not any of witch creation, and that was as good as I could ensure. I eased the back door open and slipped into the kitchen.

When I looked around, my sight showed everything in ruins, but the ruins were all where their unruined counterparts usually sat. Cracked plates were in the dish drainer, pots and pans with rusted-out bottoms hung above a stove that should have been condemned, and even the broken chairs were tucked neatly under the bowed table-all of which I took to mean that in reality, the house looked exactly like it always did. I think I'd expected the place to be trashed, left with obvious signs of a struggle from Caleb's capture. But if the wards hadn't been cracked open, I would never have been able to tell that anything at all was amiss in the house.

I didn't turn on lights as I pa.s.sed from room to room-the darkness made no difference in my vision at the moment, so turning on the lights would only alert anyone watching the house to my presence. As I didn't know where the letter was, I didn't know how long it would take me to find it, so it would be best to keep evidence of my search as quiet as possible.

Caleb had mentioned Holly's bed when we'd been on the phone, and I wasn't sure if that was where he found the letter or where he put it, but it was as good a place as any to start looking. I crept to her room, pushing the rotted door open soundlessly. A large, weathered envelope sat in the center of a tattered comforter. I s.n.a.t.c.hed it and dropped it in my purse. I needed to read it, but here definitely wasn't the best place, as I had no idea when the FIB would be back.

"Now to figure out where to go next," I mumbled, more to myself than Roy. I turned, and a low scream crashed through the room. I ducked, my eyes flying wide. Then I realized the sound wasn't a scream; it was singing-and coming from my purse. Phone. I hadn't even thought about turning the d.a.m.n thing off before sneaking about. I sent the call to voice mail. The phone went silent and then, before I could even turn the ringer off, began singing again. Who?

I could just make out LUSA on the cracked screen. The last time I'd seen her I'd given her a diagram of the runes used in the construct disks. It was possible she'd learned something, which might help me find Holly. Or she could have heard there was a warrant out for my arrest.

I didn't have time to be indecisive; I had to make the thing stop ringing. I slid my finger across the display to answer.