by K.N. Lee
Now she was just feeling sorry for herself.
She stood and brushed off her rear. The water had seeped through, and she was sure she looked ridiculous, but there was nothing to be done about it.
Insult to injury.
Seth could go straight to hell. The thought was childish but it made her feel a little better. Grandma Ro had always warned her of idle curses, saying that all curses, even unintended ones, had power. Maybe with luck, the power would be stronger in this world. She’d have to pay the curse back three-fold times, but it could just be worth the trouble.
The fire door opened and Jovkovic stood in the doorway. He glared at her. “You blew it, Hill.”
30
Jovkovic stood in the fire escape doorway of the underground betting club. He glared at Rowan through his thick glasses, his eyes narrowed. “You really blew it.”
Great. Just what she needed. She was doing a fine enough job dressing herself down, what with the major screw-up she’d just done confronting Faust, the entity bookie and his over-muscled bouncers. She didn’t need Jovkovic’s help.
He crossed his arms. “I don’t know if Faust would believe you’re stupid enough to look him in the eyes.”
Oh, she was sure he would since she had. But that wasn’t necessarily something to share.
“We’ve got him in custody for questioning, but he’ll lawyer up. And then…” He ran a hand over his head.
She didn’t know what to say. Really, she was a smart girl — a little out of her league at the moment — but smart. If she knew where she’d slipped up, she could say something witty or biting, but she’d had no idea that just looking in some guy’s eyes would make her jolt and startle that bouncer into fighting with Shannon.
“Our only bet is to charge him with using psychic abilities on a federal officer and hope it sticks.” He blew out a heavy breath. “Damn, Hill. Couldn’t you have waited for me to get some answers before starting the fight?”
“Guess I’m more shoot first, ask questions later.” She shrugged, hoping it was something her other-self would do. “Getting shot will do that to a girl.”
He snorted as if that made perfect sense. “Get in here. Remind me to take a strip off you later.”
She forced her expression to neutral — there were chinks in her steel will but she was determined not to let it show — and re-entered the building behind him. As much as Jovkovic had ordered her back in, there was nothing else for her to do inside. Faust and his two thugs had already been removed and were on their way to the Federal Building with an FBI escort. Jovkovic, Shannon, and one of the remaining SWAT agents conversed in the hall, and no one indicated that they wanted her to join them.
Fine. She didn’t really want to talk to them, either. She supposed she should examine Faust’s office, attempt to profile him, search for more of a connection with the missing demons or Manny, but every time she looked at the door, the fear inspired by looking in Faust’s eyes came rushing back.
It was illogical, a psychological manipulation. She hadn’t really been afraid of him. She knew that now, and still it controlled her. Her palms grew clammy and her heart raced. And God damn it, it was all Seth’s fault. He’d brought her here and thrown her into this world without consideration.
She clenched her jaw, gripped the doorframe, and forced herself to stand in the doorway and stare into the office. The room was empty, and the fear vanished. One minute it was there, the next it was gone as if someone had flicked a switch.
“Hill,” Jovkovic said.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. He seemed smaller somehow, less precise. She couldn’t be sure, but now that she looked around, everything seemed less than she’d first thought. In breaking Faust’s fear, it seemed she’d also stripped away something else that had influenced her perspective.
“Time to go.”
“Sure.”
She followed Jovkovic and Shannon out, seeing everything with new eyes. Faust’s bar was still a bar, smoky and old, but it was less than before, or rather, more normal. And the doorman, no longer sleepy after the surprise FBI intrusion, was just some guy. But she had no idea what that meant.
When she returned to the office, she found a large gift box, complete with red bow, on her desk.
“What’s that?” Shannon asked, his tone dark.
Jovkovic raised an eyebrow at it but continued to his office.
“Nothing, I’m sure.” But Rowan had a sinking suspicion it would start a fight. Her other-self seemed to be playing the field. If this was what she considered discretion, then it was no wonder Shannon was jealous.
“It doesn’t look like nothing.”
Thank you, Mr. Obvious. “It’s probably a present from my dad. I am about to have a birthday.” There, let him chew on that for a while.
“Your dad?”
Her heart sank. Didn’t she have a dad in this world? Please let her at least have Grandma Ro.
“I didn’t think he was the red bow type.”
“All men are sentimental when their baby girls turn thirty.”
He snorted and stormed away. She didn’t think he believed her. Gee, now she was being Ms. Obvious. Maybe they really were meant to be together, instead of her and Ben. No, jealous was worse than overprotective. Besides, if she was going to feel guilty about anything, it should be about how Seth made her feel with Ben, her fiancé, back at home. He was probably wondering where she was. She’d been in this crazy world for almost twenty-four hours, and she’d never before not returned home — and she wasn’t going to think about how bad things might be if her other-self was living her life with Ben.
Rowan undid the bow and glanced about the office. It would be just her luck if Shannon was still hovering. Whatever was inside wasn’t a birthday gift from her father. He’d never been a big gifter, and that probably hadn’t changed from one world to the next — there were just some things that were fundamental to a person’s character.
No one was around, so she opened it. Inside was a folded red satin something. From the plunging neckline and spaghetti straps, it was either a dress or lingerie. On top lay a card. In fine calligraphy it said, To the stunning nymph who’s stolen my heart. My chariot will arrive at eight.
It was signed A., and in the corner was a stylish representation of a wing.
So Azkeel had found her. She didn’t know if it was a good thing that the angel knew she worked for the FBI or not. It did mean she didn’t have to worry about maintaining her cover as a reporter. The question was, how much of her true intention could she tell him?
Wings aside, she still didn’t know what to make of him, and as much as she’d like to think she’d stolen his heart with her stunning beauty, as the card said, she wasn’t so naive as to believe it.
The dress — she could only assume it was intended for that evening — was a simple ankle-length gown. Its shoulder straps joined a lattice-work at the back which made it even more daringly low than the front. At the bottom of the box was a clutch purse without a strap that she’d have to hold all night, and a pair of three-inch stiletto sandals, both dyed to match the dress.
She changed in the locker room, foregoing the color-coordinated purse for her own. The strap would free her hands if need be, and besides, she didn’t want to have to pick and choose what to bring from her purse. It wasn’t stylish, but she wasn’t going to the party to be stylish. She needed a clue, and after her encounters with Faust and Seth, she wanted to be prepared. Not that there was anything in her purse that could have saved her from either demon.
For a moment, she contemplated bringing a gun. But she was still uncertain about using one and suspected it was difficult enough to get into the club as a human without being armed. What she needed was practice with the weapon — or greater desperation — before she’d pack it in her purse.
With luck, it wouldn’t be desperation that brought her around.
Azkeel’s chariot, a black limo, was waiting for her out front on time at 8 pm. A human-look
ing chauffeur held the back door open for her and she got in.
It was empty. Guess her beauty wasn’t mesmerizing enough to be picked up in person.
He wasn’t in the club’s lobby to greet her, either. A shorter blond version of Mr. Muscles now stood guard at the door, his third eye closed and all four arms crossed. He nodded at her and allowed her to pass without question — which was good since she didn’t think she’d be able to climb to the second story window again in her dress and heels. Not without soiling both.
She strode to the grand staircase, her heels clicking on the marble floor, and stopped at the top landing. If she had felt exposed the first time she’d taken the staircase with Azkeel that morning, she now felt naked.
Below, a few entities moved in and out of nooks and lounged by the pool, but not nearly as many as before. She felt completely human and acutely aware that there was no entity at her side to vouch for her. She could feel gazes on her: heated, curious, bored, and all waiting for her to move. She couldn’t shake the sensation that those gazes belonged to predators. Her dress was cut too low — front and back — and the fabric was too thin. She wanted a wrap, or a shrug, or a jacket. Something to cover up. But Azkeel hadn’t provided one and there hadn’t been time to go home and get one. All she could do was hold her head high, push her shoulders back, and try not to trip on the stairs.
A waiter carrying a tray with champagne offered her a glass when she reached the bottom. She took a drink and eased into the shadow of a tree to steady her nerves.
“Do you know our lucky traveler?” a small voice said from beside her.
Her pulse jumped, and she forced her expression to calm, to not reveal her surprise.
The owner of the voice stood on the other side of the tree: four feet tall, a globular mass of pink flesh adorned with a tuxedo jacket. Stubby arms with round pink hands stuck out on either side, too short for the girth of his frame. His face, human in shape, had a dozen eyes, a bulbous nose, and a turned-down mouth.
He was not a predator. In fact, everything about him screamed prey and she doubted he was in any kind of social circle that would help her. Since this was an exclusive Inner Circle party, there was no doubt he was here the same way she was: on someone else’s whim.
She tried to make eye contact but couldn’t figure out which eye to look at and settled on the middle of his face. “I don’t know the lucky traveler.” Whatever the heck that was. “Do you?”
“Me, neither. But I can’t resist a going-away party.” He gave a sheepish smile, or at least she thought it was sheepish, and held up a plate with hors d’oeuvres on it that looked like deep-fried cockroaches and spiders.
She swallowed back her rising bile and declined his offer with a held-up hand. “Why’s that?” She didn’t want to get bogged down in conversation with him, but she wasn’t ready to leave the safety of the tree yet.
“You hear the best gossip at going-away parties. Why they’re leaving, who’s happy about it, who’s not.” He leaned toward her and she struggled not to inch away from all that malformed flesh. “See that nymph by the pool?”
She glanced at the pool. Did he mean the woman with green hair who lounged on a rock with her feet dangling in the pool? Or the one beside her with leathery wings? If she were in her mythology class, she’d guess the woman with green hair was the nymph, but having never met one, she had no real way of knowing.
“Sure, by the pool,” she lied.
“She’s very unhappy that Tarun is leaving and won’t return for months.”
“I see.”
The demon giggled. “Tarun’s wife is on the other side of the room.”
“Oh.” Maybe this entity did know something after all. “Tarun seems to have all the—” She was about to say creature comforts, but didn’t know if that was polite, given the company. “All the luxuries here. Why is he leaving?”
“Rumor has it there’s a secret, lucrative business venture in the Old Country. So secret all outside contact is forbidden. The younger generation of the old-money dynasties, with their tired bank accounts, is eager to invest.” He popped a spider into his mouth. “My sister-in-law’s cousin told me about how great the food is at these parties, and wow… he sure was right.”
Rowan could only guess — since she wasn’t going to try the food.
“But if they keep it up at this rate,” he said around a mouthful of spider. “If they keep going overseas, they’ll run out of old-money sons.” He giggled again. She wondered if she’d misjudged his gender and he really was a she — some women chose to wear a tux instead of a dress. “They’ll have to move to old-money daughters.”
“How many have gone?”
He shrugged, the movement rippling through his flesh all the way down to the roll on the floor where his legs and feet should have been. “At least five.”
“Five?” The FBI only knew of two. Maybe her missing demons weren’t missing after all and really were on vacation — or rather, exploring a secret business investment.
The demon shifted closer, all his eyes blinking in unison. “I like your enchantment. You craft a really good spell.”
“Excuse me?”
He jerked back, the reaction too strong for her words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it wasn’t a spell, I mean— Sorry, sorry. You’re so lucky… being able to pass. So few entities can. I gave up trying to look human a long while ago.”
All his eyes glassed over and she feared he’d cry over the fact that he was what he was and didn’t look human.
“I’m not a… you know,” she said, hoping to console him with the knowledge that she looked human because she was.
“Ooooh.” He gave her a knowing wink with the right half of his eyes. “You’re one of Azkeel’s humans.”
She fought the urge to correct him. While she didn’t want to be seen in the same light as Azkeel’s fawning admirers, she was still here on his invitation. If the wrong person found out otherwise, she’d be escorted out, and she was sure Mr. Muscles II would be happy to do the job.
“He is pretty amazing,” he said.
“Yes, I am.” Azkeel swept up behind the entity. Rowan knew he merely walked, but there was still something majestic about the way he moved.
Every eye on the globular entity grew large, confirming her suspicion that he was submissive while Azkeel was dominant — a predator, if an angel could be considered a predator.
He looked striking in an all-black suit. It turned his loose, shoulder-length blond hair into a halo and made his wings stand out in stark contrast.
“Dr. Hill.” Azkeel held out his hand to her.
She took it and let him lead her toward the pool.
“Are you finding quotes for your article?” His expression was innocent, but she caught a flicker of mischief in his eyes.
“Obviously you’ve discovered I’m not a reporter.”
“Obviously. There is only one entity profiler in town.”
So he’d known all along. She wondered what else he knew about her, like whether or not she wasn’t this world’s Rowan Hill.
“So why go along with it?” she asked.
“You’re special.” He leaned closer, his wings wrapping about them and masking their conversation from prying eyes. “Rare.”
“Anyone can learn to profile.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Then…?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know and suspected this was how he enspelled his human followers, wrapping them in a cocoon of feathers and flesh. He was, after all, an angel. Who didn’t want to be told by an angel that they were special? Besides being an obvious flirt, he had done nothing to indicate a diabolical agenda. Not like Seth.
“You’re a world-walker,” he said, his voice low.
“Excuse me?” That wasn’t what she’d expected.
“You think walkers don’t exist. That’s what everyone wants us to believe.”
At this rate, with all that had happened, she’d believe anything
, particularly something that could explain why Seth could ruin her life in two worlds and prove she wasn’t crazy.
Of course, it would be just her luck that this world-walking thing didn’t explain her parallel universe problem.
“There are just so few of us,” he said.
Ah, so that was what had caught his eye. He thought she was like him somehow.
“But how did you know I was a… you know?” she asked, hoping the question wouldn’t seem out of character for an FBI profiler.
“Some walkers, and witches and warlocks for that matter, can sense walkers and latent walkers.”
“Sense how?”
“It’s different for everyone. I feel it as a warmth around my heart.”
How fitting for an angel.
“A strong sensation signifies a walker. Weak means a latent. I’m sure you’re on the verge. If you come into your abilities, it will be soon, and I don’t want you to go through it alone.” He reached to caress her cheek but drew back before completing the movement. “Your first walk can be sudden, disorienting, and even painful.”
She took his hand, the one he’d almost touched her with. “So you find these people with latent abilities and help them?”
“I’ve never found one on the verge before. Most people, human and entity, only have a hint of the ability. With so few of us around, it’s no surprise that people believe we don’t exist. But world-walking is real.”
She didn’t know how she, a mere human, could have the ability to world-walk, but if she could, then she might not need Seth to send her home.
“How do I do it?”