by Tricia Owens
"I dunno. Sounds like a clue to me. That little goblin seemed too smart to waste his dying moments on just words." Melanie shrugged. "Especially if he was murdered. I kinda doubt anyone dies that way and are cool with it. They'd resist it to the end, you know?"
I liked what she had to say, but could she be right?
"Let's do research and talk this out," I suggested. "Who knows. Maybe one of us will have an epiphany."
But three hours later we knew nothing further and I was exhausted. I could see that Uncle James was running on fumes, too. We'd had a long, eventful night and day, and I'd been awake for more than twenty-four hours.
After reminding everyone to be careful at all times, he and I returned to Moonlight.
"You're taking the bed," I said firmly. "Age before beauty."
"I'd feel insulted except I'm rather excited about being able to starfish," he said around a yawn. "Being forced to sleep in a twin bed for two years was the true definition of cruel and unusual punishment."
"Those jerks."
As he changed into his pajamas in the bathroom, I set up a decent little bed for myself in the shop, behind the counter. The wards were up, and the spirit entity on the roof had begun to pace. My eyes were closed by the time I heard my uncle exit the bathroom and climb into bed.
"Thank you for finding me, Anne," he said softly, his voice carrying easily through the beaded curtain. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too," I murmured back.
I meant to say more, but sleep claimed me. When next I opened my eyes, a dark figure loomed over me.
Chapter 8
I didn't freak out because I recognized the silhouette. I sat up. "Hey."
"It's a good thing your uncle snores, or I would have joined him in bed," Vale drawled.
"Ah, yeah, I didn't even think about that. Dodged a bullet there, eh?" I rolled up my bed and then took a moment to stretch. "Hoo boy, you've missed a lot," I said as I slid onto the stool behind the counter. He stood motionless on the other side, dressed in the spare set of clothes that he'd taken to leaving in my studio for times when he couldn't go home.
I related everything that had happened and watched his expression grow darker and grimmer.
"It's unfortunate about Echinacious," he said once I'd finished. "Though his loyalty was strained, he was a valuable source of magick and was knowledgeable about the city."
"What's your opinion on his dying words? Do you agree that they hold deeper meaning than a farewell statement?"
"I do."
That lifted my spirits considerably. I trusted Vale's judgment when my own felt suspect.
"Okay, so we'll spend more time working on that puzzle," I said.
"It will tie in with the Oddsmakers' plans," Vale said. "Echinacious will have wanted you to prevail over them."
"Then he shouldn't have written me a damn riddle," I complained.
"If he hadn't, the Oddsmakers would have wiped the message away. I'm surprised they left it, but maybe one of them felt a moment's pity."
"Screw them and their pity. They didn't have to tear him apart." I took a deep breath and shook off my anger. "The only upside to any of this is that without Echinacious they can't practice any of their future moves. They cut off their own nose to spite their face."
"Exactly. It was a mistake, and it's not the first that they've made. Even with all their planning and practice you've spoiled their plans every time. I want you to think about that, Moody. They're in a worse situation now and once again it's due to your efforts. The odds have shifted in our favor."
I brightened. "I hadn't thought of it that way but you're right. These guys are major Type A personalities. They're probably going to go bonkers now that they'll have to act without practicing first. Sweet."
He smiled. "Yes. Sweet."
But some of my pleasure dimmed. "Lev is still missing. I promised Celestina I'd find him for her."
"You realize there's a good chance that he's dead. He, along with the rest of the wolf shifter packs in the city."
"Yeah, I know. I've got my fingers crossed because I can't just give up, but it's not like him to be missing for this long. He wouldn't put Celestina through that." Thinking of my friend and how she was suffering made me depressed. "She needs closure. I guess I do, too, otherwise I'll always wonder what happened to them."
"Let's go look for them now."
I blinked at him. "Just like that? Even with the Oddsmakers on the move and paranoid?"
He nodded. "That's exactly why we need to go. They're panicking. They'll act sooner rather than later. And that's not the only reason we're running out of time. We have one more day before Kusahara loses control of the military. We'll have a difficult time moving throughout the city once they begin hunting us."
"Nothing like a little excitement on a Saturday night," I quipped, feeling a little crazed. Was this really my life?
I left a message for Uncle James to hang tight until we returned. Then I headed out with Vale.
Traveling through Las Vegas these days was a tricky affair. The city had been destroyed. This wasn't minor damage; entire buildings had collapsed or had burned to the ground. An enormous crack wide enough to swallow cars ran down part of Fremont Street and for nearly the entire length of Las Vegas Boulevard. Water mains had burst and flooded the area and gas leaks had been a major concern for the first couple of days. Construction cones blocked traffic on and near the Strip. Cranes and large construction vehicles loomed over everything. Vegas was closed for business.
Since we were on foot, we were able to get closer to the damage than if we'd driven. It was surreal seeing Fremont Street utterly dark. The overhead LED display had fallen into the center of the street and wires and pieces of the damaged casinos dangled everywhere. And of course, the Rift had opened here, too. Everything along a half mile stretched had been cordoned off by the police.
Vale and I ignored the barriers and signs and snuck past the teams of city workers who were laboring beneath huge, bright lights to repair the damage.
I thought about all the video footage that the government had confiscated. They possessed video footage of my actions, but I wondered about the other magickal beings I'd seen that night. What of the demonic wolves? What of the teenagers who'd tried to fill the Rift with water or the old wizard at Excalibur who had prevented the statue of Merlin from falling on tourists? Had they been identified? Were they rounded up as Vale and I had been?
"Wandering around is going to waste too much time," I concluded as we paused in front of the El Cortez Casino, which had suffered some fire damage but structurally appeared intact, at least on the outside. "We need to ask the people who live nearby if they've seen the wolf packs."
"They're going to be difficult to question," Vale mused as he looked up and down the eerily dark street. "I would imagine a feeling of grave mistrust has infiltrated the magickal community. No one knows who to trust."
"They definitely will know not to trust me. I'm Public Enemy Number One. But there's a quick fix for that." I summoned Lucky but in his smallest, thinnest form, the same form I'd used back when we'd stolen a car from the Little A'Le'Inn. This time I sent him to the closed gift shop across the street.
By the time Vale and I had dashed to the front door of the shop, Lucky had already unlocked it. We slipped inside a store that had probably not closed its doors since the day of its opening. Now it was shuttered. In the dark I found a pink knit cap with "Vegas" knitted along its brim—never mind that it was ninety-five degrees at night—and a pair of cheap sunglasses with bright red frames. I pushed out the plastic lenses and put on the glasses, so I looked like a hipster. With my hair woven into braids and with the hat and glasses, I didn't think I looked recognizable as uncool Anne Moody.
"Never wear any of this again after tonight," Vale said with a grimace after checking out my disguise.
"Not into trendy girls? You're such a snob, Vale."
"If that's what you want to call it."
"N
ow where?"
"South." Vale pointed. "A couple of blocks away lives a witch who's active in the community. She'll be a good place to start. She's young and friendly. People like to hang out at her place."
"Young and friendly, huh? Should I be jealous?" I teased as we jogged down the cracked sidewalk.
Vale shot me a look of irritation. "Only if you want to waste your time."
I smiled to myself. I would never fear that Vale had cheated on me. He was the kind of guy who committed, who loathed anything frivolous or transient. Maybe it was a consequence of having such a long lifespan. He desired relationships that lasted as long as possible. While odds were good that I wouldn't reach a hundred years old, I was on the same page as he when it came to monogamy and commitment. One less thing to worry about, thank goodness.
We cut down a street, turned down another. The damage to the popular heart of the city hadn't spared the residential areas that were tucked in right alongside the bars, restaurants, and casinos. Street lamps were out, and two had fallen onto the roofs of houses and were cordoned off by the power company. As we ran, I realized Vale was correct: there was a pervasive sense that people were locked up tight in their homes—not just the magickal beings but everyone. Maybe they feared that Sin City was finally beginning to pay the piper for years of decadence and debauchery.
Vale led me down a driveway alongside a duplex to the second unit in back. He urged me to be quiet as we carefully crept up the wooden stairs to the unit's door. It seemed like a normal place until I looked closer. Then I noticed the runes and glyphs carved into the wood frame of the door, barely concealed by a wash of paint. And when the door opened to Vale's quiet knock, the familiar smell of cleansing sage wafted from the interior.
"Samara," Vale greeted softly.
I peered around his shoulder at the woman who'd opened the door. She was younger than me physically, her face smooth, cheeks reddened with rosacea. But her eyes were old. Forget about a thousand yard stare. This girl had seen to the end of the universe.
Had Vale not told me, I wouldn't have guessed that she was a witch. She was dressed kind of punk-ish in acid-washed denim jeans ripped and studded with metal and one of those black tops with the overlong sleeves and multiple panels of fabric crisscrossing every which way which looks so cool on TV or in a print ad but which you realized was absolute hell to wear if you lived in scorching Las Vegas. But this girl was super pale, so I had a feeling she never left the house. A fashionista could get away with anything if her AC was strong enough.
Her head was shaved, and a giant eye tattoo peeked from behind her left ear, staring at me as the girl glared at Vale.
"We're not taking visitors, V," she told him. "Everyone is on lockdown. Word is the Oddsmakers are about to take over the world. You should bunker."
"I'm trying to collect information so I can stop them from doing such a thing," he told her calmly. "Who else is in here with you?"
She didn't like the question, and I didn't blame her. All three of her eyes checked me out, making no secret of the fact she hated that I was there.
"Who is she?" Samara demanded. "You're nuts for bringing a stranger around at a time like this."
"It's alright. She's my girlfriend."
Samara's aggression gave way to shock, and then to a cool speculation. I recognized the look she gave me and I inwardly smirked, though of course, I didn't let my smugness show.
"What is she?" Samara asked, her tone suggesting that I looked like I was something lowly, like a troll.
"It doesn't matter. Samara, may we come in?" Vale's tone was gentle and cajoling. He wasn't blind to this girl's interest in him. Had he been a different guy, I would have questioned if he'd ever taken advantage of it. "We won't stay long. We'll ask our questions and go. I don't want to endanger you in any way."
"As if you could," she said with a snort, but there was a lessening of the hostility in her voice, maybe even a touch of flirtation. It was a ballsy move with me standing right there, but I had no interest in baring the cat claws. I had greater concerns than a girl trying in vain to steal my boyfriend.
She stepped back and opened the door fully. "The others won't be happy. Be quick or else I'll have a riot on my hands."
The plain duplex gave way to something considerably more once Vale and I stepped inside. As was the case with many magickal abodes, this place had been pimped out to suit its owner's tastes.
Samara clearly had a thing for dieselpunk or cyberpunk. The interior looked like a home that would have fit in seamlessly within the world of Blade Runner. I actually had to step over tubing in the steel grate floor as I followed her and Vale down a narrow hallway and into what looked a mess hall on board a space frigate. Talk about wacky disorientation.
But all the tubing and wires and glowing neon signs plastered everywhere for made-up companies on far-flung planets became secondary distractions when I got a look at the people gathered in the room who were seated at metallic picnic tables. I counted nine men and women along with a handful of shifters of unknown gender and some creatures who could have been genderless. They all turned their eyes—some possessed more than two—on me and Vale. Their regard didn't feel particularly welcoming.
"Who are they?" demanded a male with tentacles coming out of his lower jaw. It was some serious Pirates of the Caribbean action with barnacles and everything. Hilariously, he wore a pair of farmer's overalls, maybe to show that his barnacle action extended all over. If you were into that sort of thing.
"My name is Vale and this is my girlfriend. We have some quick questions for you and then we'll be on our way," he told the creature.
"And then you'll sell us out to the Oddsmakers?" tentacle-guy shot back.
"We could have done that the moment Samara opened the door," Vale pointed out. "Anyone can sense the magicks leaking through the door."
"I told you guys not to use any!" Samara yelled at the group. "That's how they'll track us down, you idiots!"
"And what are we supposed to do?" retorted another man with a wicked silver streak running down the center of his black, shoulder length hair as well as his waist length beard. "We can't just sit here blind, deaf, and dumb. We need to keep watch for dangers. We need to sense beyond these walls, Mara."
"That's what the bats are for!" she snapped back. "Christ, man, you guys are going to ruin this if you don't trust me."
"You vouch for these two?" demanded tentacle-guy, inciting a murmur of support for the question and the suspicion behind it.
Samara briefly looked over Vale but lingered longer in her assessment of me. I didn't blame her one iota. I probably looked like an idiot with my knit cap and lens-less plastic frames. Something tickled the back of my neck. I absently reached back to brush away what I thought was a loose hair. My fingers instead brushed something sharp and rough that fluttered away. I turned to look, but whatever it was had gone.
"I trust 'em," she concluded, dismissing me to face her horde. "So that means you should, too, if you're gonna hang here."
No one grumbled. A couple of looks were exchanged, but that was it. People wanted to stay with Samara. She might be young, but whatever power she wielded was enough to convince this group to obey her. I was impressed and intrigued.
"We're looking for the wolf shifter packs," Vale told them. "Black Die, Eastsiders—any of them. The last anyone saw of them was before the destruction."
"They're no longer wolf shifters."
I looked for the speaker. It was a young boy, maybe nine or ten. Small horns jutted from the center of his forehead and the middle of his chin. His eyes were split by vertical pupils.
"I saw them when the road was splitting. They were all spiky with red eyes. When they ran, they made sparks with their paws."
"Hell hounds," spoke up the man with the silver streaked hair. "That's what they were. But the boy's right. They were mutated. There won't be any turning back after that."
"How do you know this?" I asked him.
He narrowed hi
s gaze at me. "Are you calling me a liar?"
"I'm asking you what you know. I need your knowledge."
He shifted around where he sat but eventually responded. "I heard it from someone."
I began to sigh in annoyance when tendril-guy spoke up.
"He heard it from me. And the reason I know it is because I saw it happen."
"Where?" Vale demanded.
But tendril-guy clammed up, and I could understand why. He had dozens of people around him, any of whom could sell him out if it came down to it.
"Tymon, come with us," Samara ordered, pointing at tendril-guy. "The rest of you stop using your damn magick. You're going to get us all killed."
This time there was audible grumbling as the four of us left the room, making me concerned that Samara didn't possess the control over them that she believed she did. I kept glancing back as we traversed the weird industrial hall, just in case someone decided to shut us all up in order to keep the group safe.
Samara ushered us into another room, this one with windows that overlooked the street. This shouldn't have been possible since the house was located at the backend of the duplex, but again, this was magick and anything went.
Samara immediately unleashed on tendril-guy. "What the hell are you hiding, Tymon?"
"I didn't want them all to hear the truth," he snapped back, his chin appendages wagging animatedly. "They're already scared enough as it is."
"What's the truth?" I asked him.
But he narrowed his eyes at me. "I know who you are. That idiotic disguise was a waste of time. I bet I'm not the only one who knows, either. Once you leave here, dragon, you'd better run fast and far."
I stepped up in his face, which wasn't easy, sort of like leaning in close to a plate full of worms that smelled like the ocean.
"If you know who I am then you're aware that I'm not going to accept any B.S. from you. Tell me what you know."
"Why? So you can turn me in to your masters?"
I smiled without humor. "Believe it or not, I'm not a big fan of what happened to my city. In fact, I'm sorta pissed. I want to hold someone accountable. Someone like the Oddsmakers."