Rock Star (Dream Weaver #2)

by Su Williams

  “Yeah, I guess I have had my own issues to deal with, haven’t I?” Ivy just nodded understanding. I fell silent, feeling a little shy, like the first time I met her back in seventh grade. Almost like I was meeting the real Ivy for the first time. “Ivy? You know that I…”

  “Like boys,” she finished for me. “Yeah. I know. And it’s a damn shame too.” She heaved a dramatic sigh. “So many broken hearted girls out there.”

  “Yeah,” I said and poked her in the ribs. “I can just hear all the boys hearts breaking over losing you to the other team.” She stared at me, shocked again but then the anxiety melted from her face and body, and she smiled her dazzling smile. She was grateful I was taking this so easily. How could I not? She was my girl—my Baby, my Ivy.

  “Hey, listen,” Ivy said a while later after we’d sat on the couch watching more of Deathly Hallows 2. “I need to get going. Closing shift, tonight. I wish you’d come back to work.”

  “Yeah. Tried that. It’s just not the same without Jess there,” I confessed.

  “And what am I? Chopped liver?” She feigned offense.

  “It’s just, the department, the stock room. I can’t even get out of my car near the store doors. I go through the Chili’s entrance now when I go to the mall. Pretty chicken, huh?”

  “Nah,” she said and gave my arm a consoling rub. “Pretty brave that you can get that close at all.”

  I drew her into my arms and for the tiniest second felt a little self-conscious about it, but this was my girl, dammit. The same friend she was yesterday. The same friend she was five minutes ago and five years ago. Still Ivy.

  Thoughts of what lay ahead of me pushed their way to the forefront. What would Ivy do if I was killed by a Wraith tonight?

  As Ivy pulled on her camo-green pea coat, Eddyson pattered over to say his goodbyes and get his ears and belly scratched. And a horrid thought struck me. Thomas used Eddy the last time. What would keep him from using the puppy against me again? Maybe even killing him this time? An image of Thomas busting into the house and dragging the pup out yelping assaulted my mind. I pushed away from Ivy.

  “I forgot to tell you, I’m flying to Seattle for a couple of days. Some family-ish thing Adrian wants me to go to. Can you take Eddy back to your place for a couple of days? Please?” I hoped my lie was convincing, and it twisted my heart to do it. But I had to protect them both.

  Baby picked the pup up and stroked his velveteen ears. “Were you planning on getting him back when you get home?” she threatened playfully.

  I poked her in the ribs. “I’d have to send my posse after you. And that Sabre is one scary dude.”

  Ivy laughed. “I think he plays real hard at being a bad ass, but it’s all for show.”

  If she only knew.

  We gathered up Eddyson’s supplies and hauled his crate out to her car. I

  fought tears as I bundled him into the crate. What if I never saw him again? But it was better that he was safe. Or had I just put both of them in danger? I wondered if I should change my mind. Better just Eddy in danger than both of them.

  “Hey,” she said, “you know I’ll take good care of him.”

  “I know. It’s just, he’s my teddy-puppy. It’ll be weird to be without him.”

  “You’ll be back in no time. Go see the butterfly exhibit at the Science Center. That’ll keep you occupied for a while,” she suggested.

  “Yeah. Maybe I will.”

  With one final—hopefully not final hug—Ivy got in her car and drove away with a chunk of my heart. I hoped I was doing the right thing. That I was sending him to safety and not both of them to slaughter.

  Chapter 21 Back in Black

  The sun shown cotton crisp on the sleeping trees and matted grasses as I gazed out the back door of Sabre’s house. The sloping yard dipped down to the banks of Dead Man’s Creek. Nick murmured into his phone, so quiet I couldn’t hear. He snapped the phone shut and stuffed it in his pocket.

  “You ready?” he asked, his tone deep and succinct.

  “Sure thing. Back in black, head to toe, at your command.” I flashed him a quick salute.

  “Okay. Let’s go.” But it sounded more like he wished we didn’t have to.

  As we passed the long wall of pictures, I glanced at the one I’d seen a few weeks ago, on the day I escaped from the rock star weave. I’d thought it looked like two men hanging on gallows. Sure enough, it was—two people hanging stiff and lifeless from taut, coarse ropes. I snuffled out the memory of dirty burlap from my nose and explored the other pictures that spanned the wall. Each image depicted an actual death scene. Yeah, not just a little bit creepy. The classic image of Jesse James at rest in his coffin with a tall mustachioed man looming over his corpse, and Bill Doolin from the Wild Bunch, bare chest riddled with bullet holes, hung alongside post mortem photos of empty-eyed infants dressed in lace and deceased loved ones propped for display in a family portrait.

  “Whoa! What is up with these?” I asked.

  “Ha. Yeah. Sabre’s got a bit of a thing for death.”

  “Ya think. The guy’s a pretty sick puppy.”

  Nick snorted an unamused laugh. “Come on. We’ve got stuff to do.”

  With his hand on the small of my back, he guided me out to the garage. There weren’t really expensive sports cars in Nick and Sabre’s garage like the sparkling vamps in Forks, as I had once imagined. Just a Hello Yellow Jeep Cherokee, decked with roll bars and fog lights. I guess when you can phase anywhere you want to go, you don’t really need wheels. They probably kept it around to at least appear human. He guided me in and shut the door behind me.

  “So—where’re we going?” I asked once he was buckled in.

  “The Armory,” he said without looking at me. One side of his mouth quirked up in thought. “It’ll be fun,” he amended with a gentle smile, as though he’d changed his mind about being grumpy with me.

  Last time I checked, an armory was a place that stored weapons. Lots and tons of weapons. “Okey dokey,” I replied.

  Nick chuckled. “Tunes?” he asked, as he reached for the stereo.

  “Duh,” I scoffed playfully.

  His fingers caressed the knobs until strains of Aerosmith flowed from the speakers. We sang along as Nick drove into town. He pulled the car to a stop on a side street off Second Avenue near a familiar building. The old, three-story cinder block structure had a wide welcoming arch, crenellations and glass cube windows in green frames. From a distance, it looked a lot like a fortress or castle.

  “Laser tag? I thought you said we were going to the Armory,” I said. A few games of laser tag could just be the ticket to work off some pent-up aggression.

  Nick huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Back in the day, this was Spokane’s National Guard Armory,” he explained. “It hasn’t actually been an armory since ‘78.”

  “Damn, you’re old,” I teased.

  Nick flashed me a playful glare. “Woodrow Wilson gave a speech from here one time, but I doubt we could find any memories of it with all the remodeling that’s been done. They held car shows and high school basketball games here too, for a while.”

  “Well, thank you, Mr. History,” I teased.

  He grabbed my hand, hauled me down the sidewalk, and through the arched entry. The lobby, that usually teemed with anxious, sweaty combatants, was empty. It felt eerie, just—wrong.

  “Wait here,” Nick said and parked me by an air hockey table, while he went to the counter to talk to the lone occupant—a tall, skinny man with a scraggly beard and ponytail who looked more like a transient than a proprietor. The two conversed in quiet tones and I could have sworn I saw Nick pull a wad of bills out his pocket for the guy.

  “So, how long ‘til the last team finishes their mission?” I asked when Nick strolled back to my side.

  “There isn’t another team. It’s just us.”

  “Seriously? We have the whole place to ourselves?” I asked, incredulous. He nodded, his eyes gleamed with mystery. “Way cool. No �
�Marshal! Marshal! Marshal! to spoil our fun and tell us to stop running?” Nick grinned at my enthusiasm. “So, do you guys know the owner or something?”

  “He’s an old friend,” Nick evaded.

  I wondered about the cash I thought I saw Nick hand the ‘old friend’ and if all immortals held large reserves of money.

  “All set,” called the man behind the counter. Nick jerked a nod in his direction and led me up the stairs to the black-light briefing room that was normally packed wall to wall with sweltering black clad bodies with glowing white teeth.

  “Let me give you some of the moves and tactics before we go in, so you’ll have something to draw on.” The thermae of Nick wrapped around me, body and soul, like radiant heat. Sultry and fierce, the memories of combat moves poured into me, lodged themselves inside me like inborn memories. The ferocious blaze of warfare softened to the heat of his love, and he fitted the contours of his body to mine. His cheek flamed against my skin and he purred a soft groan.

  “You know, we don’t really need physical contact to do a transfer, anymore,” I teased.

  “Hmm. Yes. Old habits are hard to break.” But he broke away from me, grasped my hand and drew me to the stairs down to the weapons room.

  “How did you manage this?” I asked as we trotted down the steps.

  “Like I said, he’s an old friend. And a little cash always opens the door.”

  “A little? That was a freakin’ wad you handed that guy,” I protested.

  Nick just shrugged. “Excellent long term investments,” he explained, forestalling my next question. He lifted a sensor vest over my head and buckled it around me. He smirked and shook his head. “You’re so tiny.” He grazed his fingers down my cheek and the heat sucked the air from my lungs. Nick smiled and turned to put on his own vest. Slapping his laser gun against his hand, his face grew somber. “You’re right. There will be no ‘Marshal’ on this mission. And no one leaves until every Wraith is dead. Sensors have been placed throughout the maze to represent them, and a hologram or two, as well. While we can’t duplicate all of the Wraith’s tactics, most are represented in the program. Random generators shuffle the conflicts, so I don’t even know what we will come up against. You can use any and all of your Caphar abilities to win the campaign.”

  “Okay. Let’s do this,” I told him.

  “Not yet. Weapons training.” His fingers lingered on my skin as he spoke and transferred operations of the MP-5 Stealth assault rifle, laser and real, and the 9mm side arm used by police and armies alike. My brain buzzed with the new information. “Ready?”

  Pursing my lips, I nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

  His head jerked with a sharp nod. He took my hand and led me into the darkness with swirling lights, graffiti-adorned plywood walls and chain link fence.

  “We’ll stay together, learn to work as a team. Distance weaves will definitely add to our arsenal…” Nick shouldered his way in front of me and fired his weapon at a bobbing sensor a few feet away. “Stay close to me and keep your eyes open,” he commanded as though my life depended on it.

  “Dude. Relax. It’s just a game.”

  A snarl twisted his lips as he turned back to me, grabbed my arm and forced me against the chain link. “This is not a game,” he scolded as a laser found the sensor on his right shoulder. He cast a fierce glare at the blinking lights. Turning back to me, he closed his eyes and drew in a bracing breath. When his eyes reopened the fire in them scorched my heart and his grip singed my arm. “This isn’t set up the same. It’s set up as training.” His voice softened. “And when those lasers hit your sensors, it’s not just flashing lights and vibrations you will feel. These vests are wired to shock.”

  As if to demonstrate his point, a red dot danced over his shoulder and across my chest. Before we could react, voltage zapped my chest and down my right arm. I cringed and covered myself with my gun.

  “Ugh! Geez-uz, is that really necessary?”

  “As close to real life as it gets. What Thomas did to you at Christmas…that’s just a tiny sample of what he’s capable of.” The memory of Thomas’ hands searing into my scalp, his eyes boring into mine, savaging my mind, flooded me with a nauseating fear. “Stay close behind me. I’ll send you the maneuver before each conflict so you’ll know what I need you to do.”

  A glowing red dot skittered across my head. Nick slammed me against the wall and dispatched the enemy. With thundering steps, we ran up a ramp toward higher ground. Nick took the lead, crab-walking sideways and shot at enemy sensors as we crept around corners. I took the rear and eliminated any that snuck up from behind or threatened from higher vantage points. We battled our way to the crow’s nest that overlooked the entire maze, with minimal damage. I’d taken a shoulder shot, one to the back, and two to the chest. Each wound arced electricity through my body and scrambled my thoughts for a moment. Nick’s sensors flashed only once. Backs pressed to the wall and guns at the ready, we watched the swirling and flashing lights in the black and neon room below us.

  “Tired?” he asked with a smirk.

  “A bit.”

  “We can rest here a minute, but the enemy doesn’t wait. Their lasers can’t reach us here, so it’s the best place to fall back. The ultimate goal is to reach the middle of the maze where the ‘mother brain’ is at.” Nick laughed at my scrunched eyebrows. “She’s the central computer that controls all the skirmishes. If we take her out, it will lessen how long we will have to fight.”

  A pyrotechnic explosion rumble underneath us. A cloud of billowing smoke rolled into the nest.

  “Gotta go,” he said.

  Chaos broke out all around. More pyrotechnics. Lasers sliced through the smoke and cavorted off walls. We were pushed back to the crow’s nest under heavy fire, but shot our way out. Nick led us through the maze, transferring commands silently as we forged our way ahead. My eyes began to burn, like in Sabre’s rock star weave, with the heavy hazer smoke in the air. We were pinned down only once. Once was enough. As we rounded a corner in a dark passageway, lasers flashed at us from every conceivable angle. Nick took the brunt of the hits and growled every time he took a shot meant for me. But we were pinned, and the outcome didn’t look good. I wanted to bale; this was just a game. But the intensity of Nick’s determination dissuaded me. We’d fight to the death.

  Nick pressed ahead, but the lasers cut me off, and slashed and swirled around me until I was dizzy. Nick turned to look for me just as two lasers converged on me: one to the back, and one to the chest. My knees buckled from the pain, and I crumbled to the ground. Nick hit the floor and army-crawled to my side.

  “Emari? Are you okay?”

  I writhed on the ground, struggling for breath like all the air had been shocked from my lungs and they no longer worked at all.

  “Em! Honey, look at…aaw!” A laser slashed his shoulder and I felt the electrical vibrations all the way down in his fingertips. He grabbed my hand and dragged me to a dark, secluded corner. Sabre’s name spilled from his lips like a curse. “I’ll call an abort.”

  “Forget that! Let’s go kick some Mother Brain ass.” On shaky legs, I lugged myself to my feet, more determined than ever to win this game that was no longer a game. Win, so I could go back home and smash something hard into Sabre’s stoic face.

  Forward movement was slow. My body hadn’t caught up with the present. Finally, we fought our way to the ‘mother brain’ at the center of the maze. Lasers darted and slashed from its surface, all aimed to destroy us. We huddled behind a plywood wall, defending against shots not only from the ‘mother’ but from various levels and vantage points, as well.

  “Would you like the honors?” Nick yelled over the chaos.

  “Just shoot the damn thing,” I roared and shot another enemy drone behind us before it could set off his back sensor.

  Nick took aim and unloaded his weapon on the flashing disco ball-like globe suspended from the ceiling. Sparks exploded from the central computer and pitched the entire maze in
to darkness. We stood there panting, waiting for the lights to come back on. With a breath, I released the tension in my shoulders and lowered my gun.

  “We’re not done yet,” Nick growled.

  “What the…”

  “Holograms,” he said. As if by his command, the image of Thomas appeared a few yards away. A glowing red dot appeared on my forehead and Nick launched himself at me and knocked me to the floor. “Sling the rifle over your shoulder. Side arms work better for close contact. We still have to make our way to the exit. The holos are a little tricky because they appear like the real thing.”

  We scrambled back to our feet and peered around for the hologram of Thomas. Black lights illuminated the neon paint along the floor and walls, and we skulked through the haze, weapons at the ready. Nick’s memories wandered to another place, another time—a dark and foggy night in a chaos of trees and nightmares. The images and his angst permeated my skin and spiraled my heartbeat out of control. I choked for breath and stumbled against the wall for support. Nick continued several more feet before he realized I wasn’t behind him anymore.

  With two long strides, he was beside me. “Emari? What’s wrong?” His voice was breathy and wrung out.

  “You’re spilling, again,” I explained. “There was a forest. And you were afraid.”

  “Cle Elum. We took out a Wraith there, last fall.”

  I peered into the depths of his eyes and saw his fear for me. I understood how badly it wrenched his heart because mine ached vicariously. But in my internal vision, an image of Thomas appeared.

  “He’s coming,” I hissed.

  Nick swung around beside me and pressed his back to the wall. He held his gun at the ready near his face. His senses probed the darkness and conveyed his efforts to me. “I hate holos.”

  But to me, the image felt too clear to be a hologram. “No, I don’t think…”

  With the fury of a blizzard, Thomas whirled in beside Nick, knocked him to the floor and pinned him to the ground with Nick’s own gun pressed to his forehead. Instinct and virtual training took over. I holstered the 9mm, swung the Stealth from my shoulder and smashed the butt into Thomas’ head. My ruthlessness caught him off guard and gave me the opportunity to swing for home with the stock of the rifle at his head. Thomas reeled away from Nick, swiping at blood that gushed from his temple. A preternatural growl rumbled around me, so I raised my weapon at him and pulled the trigger.