by Jenn Stark
“Dana!” Claire Griffin managed to infuse the name with warm affection, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Dana had seen her do that on a moment’s notice with large donors to one of her myriad charity affiliations. “What have you found out about the check from Lee Schaeffer? Can we keep it?”
Shoving down an all too familiar pang of resentment, Dana leaned over and hugged her mother gingerly before sitting opposite in one of the embroidered side chairs, clearly playing court to her mother’s position in a dominant wingbacked chair. “I doubt it, but I’m sure Lester will make a donation if that’s what you need. Considering I was a last-minute addition to your fundraising pot, though, do you think that’s really necessary?”
“Well, it did show considerable nerve,” Claire huffed delicately, then eyed Dana over the rim of her coffee cup. “And using a stolen identity! It’s absolutely absurd, unless this is all part of some grand scheme Lester concocted without telling anyone.” She paused expectantly, but when Dana didn’t speak, her mouth formed a little moue of distress. “Well, come on, Dana,” she said. “You know that I need to be able to explain what happened to the gala committee. Even if we don’t get the additional funds, you have to admit that the entire charade was somewhat coarse. And God forbid anyone outside the committee finds out it was all a hoax. I’d be a laughingstock!”
As she listened to her mother hold forth on a host of potential slights to her reputation, Dana felt the world gradually close in on her, cutting off her breath. How many similar complaints had she listened to over the years? How many more years of complaints would she be forced to endure? She’d long since understood why her father had kept his apartment in the city even after he’d married Claire and moved to the big house in the Heights. The woman was more than a little exhausting. Had she ever really loved Dana’s father? Had he loved her back?
Unsettled, Dana swung her gaze out into the festive, glittering lobby. A faint glow hummed along the water fountain, the lights, and even a few of the people who appeared to be in particularly good spirits. But there was nothing like the radiance she’d seen in Lester’s office.
“Oh, really, Dana,” Claire sniffed. “Don’t stare off into the distance that way. People will notice.”
A waiter had placed ice waters and lime in front of them and poured more coffee. With consummate patience, Dana allowed herself to be drawn into her mother’s world of social obligations and dramas largely of her own making. It made for an hour’s worth of conversation, but as it finally drew to a close, Dana sipped the dregs of her coffee, watching her mother with the sight that Finn had somehow flipped on for her. The sight he said was part of Dana’s advanced psychic powers that she’d never tapped.
She didn’t know if she was happy with what she was seeing or not.
Claire Griffin was lit from within, but with an indifferent, muted glow. Her true light was probably buried under decades of bearing the weight of society’s censure, Dana supposed. As well as her brother’s? Now that was a question worth asking.
Dana leaned forward. “How close are you and Uncle Lester, Mom?”
A shadow passed over her mother’s face so quickly, Dana might have imagined it. “Well, that’s an odd question,” Claire said frostily. “We’ve known each other our whole lives, of course. We’ve chaired more events together than I can count since he came back to Cleveland, and—”
“And when was that, actually? Right around the time that I was born, wasn’t it?”
“Really, Dana, what is this about?” Claire’s mouth had thinned, and Dana sensed the change in her demeanor. “I asked you here to discuss last night’s events—”
“And I want to discuss this morning’s,” Dana said. Heat rose within her. “This morning, in his office, Uncle Lester gave me a coffee mug full of tranquilizers to knock me out.”
Claire started to protest, and Dana held up her hand. “Please, listen. I know that he’s lied to me,” she said. “I don’t really care. But have you known about those lies? For some reason, that’s really important for me to know.”
Her mother was sitting ramrod straight, her eyes wide. Dana had never taken that tone with her, and she clearly didn’t appreciate it. But she was more startled than outraged for the moment, and Dana plunged on. “How much do you know about my injury in October?”
“Why, the same thing as you, Dana,” Claire said crisply. “You were shot.”
“Did I break a bone in that attack? Was I shot through the bone?”
Her mother’s lips curled in distaste. “Well, of course not, dear. You couldn’t have broken a bone without it showing up on the X-rays.”
Lester hadn’t told her anything, Dana thought. Or her mother was a damn fine actress. How sad that she really didn’t know which was the truth.
“Okay, so where were you while I was undergoing all my surgeries, then? Especially after they finished all the cutting. How did they explain to you what was happening to me?”
“Well…” Claire squirmed, but her frown seemed heartfelt. “Lester didn’t call me right away. By the time I reached the hospital, they’d already operated, and you were completely passed out. Unresponsive. They—Lester—eventually sent me home. Said that he would keep watch over you. ‘Keep watch,’ those were his words. I went home until they called me to tell me you could be seen.”
“And what condition was my leg in at that point? Could you see the cast?”
“There was no cast, Dana, just a heavy dressing of sorts. You didn’t break any bones—”
“Did you see the wound itself, then? And how long was it after surgery that I regained consciousness?”
“I did not see the wound, thank you, no. I had no interest in doing that.”
“So you don’t know if it was broken or not.”
“Oh, Dana, don’t be ridiculous! You couldn’t have been walking around in mere days if it had been broken.”
Dana hesitated. “I’ve been given reason to believe that maybe things were a little bit worse than Lester let on. That’s all. He’s never done anything like that, has he?”
“Of course not,” Claire said firmly. “Your uncle has done nothing but give you love and support since the day you were born. He would be mortified to hear you speak ill of him today.”
“He drugged me today, Mom.”
“You think he did. How do you know? How could you know? You’ve pushed yourself so hard to recover from your injuries. How do you know you didn’t simply pass out?”
Dana shook her head, remembering the tang of the bitter coffee she’d swallowed. She hadn’t imagined that. She hadn’t simply decided to take a little nap on the couch while Finn and her uncle talked shop. But her mother’s face was stony, and Dana knew she wouldn’t get anywhere further with this line of questioning. Claire clearly thought of her only as a less than dutiful daughter. Not magical, not special, merely a pawn in an endless societal whirl. “Are you going home after this?” Dana asked at length.
“Of course,” Claire said stiffly. “We have twenty people coming for Christmas dinner tomorrow, including yourself—and a guest, if you have one to bring.”
“No, most of my friends have their own families to spend their Christmas with.”
“Even your admirer? Whoever was impersonating Dr. Schaeffer?” Claire’s eyes had gone bright again, and it was her turn to lean forward. “If Lester met with him, then he had to have approved of the man’s unorthodox behavior, as hard as I find that to believe. Perhaps I should meet him as well. He went to great lengths to get time alone to talk to you, after all. Margaret said he was insistent.”
“He won’t be here tomorrow,” Dana said, suddenly tired. The gap might be too broad between her and her mother, but that didn’t change the reality of the men Dana had faced in the street last night. If Finn was right and they didn’t leave Lester alone after he handed off his list, then her mother was as much a target as the rest of them. “Listen. You need to get out of the city as soon as you can. Do you have your driver down
town?”
“Of course, dear. But I have shopping—”
“Do it in Crocker Park,” Dana said. “Lester has some business associates in town who’ve decided they’re not happy with him. Last night, they decided to take out that anger on me. I don’t want them to widen the net any further.”
Her mother paused, studying her. She wasn’t surprised, which sent Dana’s radar pinging all over the place. “Does Lester know you were attacked?” Claire asked quietly.
“Yes, he does.”
“And he let you out of his sight?”
Dana thought about that. Herself, in the long shadow of Finn as they’d left Exeter’s offices. Lester looking on, his manner more excited than agitated, but definitely letting her go. “Mom, is there anything I should know about Lester that you’re not telling me? People’s lives are at stake here. Including yours.”
Her mother’s lips twisted. “You always did insist on being dramatic.” She shook her head. “My life stopped being ‘at stake’ a long time ago.” She signaled for the waiter, her manner cool. Unaffected. As if a mask of civility had slipped back into place, never to be unsettled. “I think breakfast was a bad idea. I think you should go home and get some rest.”
She sat back, her audience with Dana clearly at an end. But as Dana moved to stand, her mother placed cool manicured fingers on her arm. “Dinner tomorrow is at one p.m., remember. If you plan to bring a guest, let me know by six p.m. tonight.”
“Got it,” Dana said, pulling her arm away.
Her mother favored her with a chilly smile. “And if you don’t come, expect your uncle to come fetch you,” she said, her eyes remote. “He’s very good at getting people to do what he wants.”
Dana didn’t bother responding to that, merely turned sharply away and headed out of the restaurant, which had suddenly grown too stuffy. She found herself in back in the all too vacant mall multiplex, but it was hard to focus too much on the empty stores, given the fantastic Christmas décor and colorful street vendors…
And the cacophony of competing thoughts and emotions racketing around her brain.
Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her pocket, then quickly hissed a curse as she read Max’s text.
Dr. Doom gone. Said he found out what he needed.
How? she keyed back.
No clue. I was plowing through files, but he didn’t watch. He sat and meditated or whatever, then poked through your WWE shrine in your office, checked out some vids. Then he told me to tell you he didn’t need your help and split. Creepy as shit, not gonna lie.
“Dammit,” Dana said again, keying back instructions to get a tail on Finn as soon as possible. Though good luck with that in Cleveland on Christmas Eve. Public Square would be jammed tight with people determined to celebrate the holiday in style. Even the mall’s concourse was bustling, never mind that only half the complex’s stores were open. You wouldn’t know there was any vacancy in the plaza from all the pop-up kiosks and brightly colored displays. A couple of buskers played music at one end of the fountains and, nearer her, several tables had been set up with vendors selling calendars and stocking stuffers. There was even—
Dana pocketed her phone, frowning. A woman sat at one of the tables, shuffling a deck of cards. Dana’d never seen her before, but it wasn’t the oddly colored deck that caught her eye, it was the woman herself.
She glowed bright enough to see from space.
As Dana fixed on her, the woman looked up. She was athletic looking, slender, but it was a little difficult to see that given the white-gold glow that surrounded her that stretched out about three feet. Underneath the halo, she was a pony-tailed brunette in a battered leather jacket and dark jeans stuffed into scuffed boots. And she was shuffling the cards like it was her job, even as she met Dana’s gaze.
“Dana Griffin?” she called out with a grin. “And don’t ask me how I know. I’m psychic.”
“That’s great. I’m not.”
“Yeah? Is that why you’re reacting to me as if I’m all bright and shiny?”
Dana’s brows went up, and she pulled her bag higher on her shoulder as she walked closer to the woman. “You want to tell me why you’re all bright and shiny?”
“Sure I do. If you tell me something I want to know.”
Dana glanced around. No one was paying any attention to her, and she’d apparently lost Finn, who doubtless believed he had a line on an at least five-hundred-year-old bad guy. Given how her day was going, how much more crazy could talking to some strip mall card reader be?
She stepped forward, then slid into the chair opposite the woman. As she did, the glow around the reader dropped markedly. She was younger than she first appeared, nearer to Dana’s age. “Who are you?”
The woman chuckled. “Probably a good question. Maybe not the best question, but you’ve earned it, at this point. I’m Sara Wilde. I collect artifacts. I—”
“You!” Dana’s eyes flared wide. She recognized the glow now, only she hadn’t seen it as a glow before. “It’s electricity, isn’t it, around you? You’re the one generating all the electricity at the sites where we missed out on Lester’s artifacts.”
The woman didn’t deny it, merely offered the roll of one shoulder. “And Lester would be…”
“My uncle. Collector of old, weird, random crazy.”
“Like the Anunnaki relic you recovered from northern Canada three days ago?”
Dana narrowed her gaze. “Like that.”
“You know it shouldn’t have been there, right? It’s not exactly the kind of thing that would’ve gotten carried over on a land bridge or something.”
Dana shrugged. “I’m not an archaeologist. I’m security.”
“Security.” Sara lifted a skeptical brow. “Who just so happens to get sent out on jobs to pick up old, weird, random crazy. You ever think to ask about that?” She dropped the cards on the table. “Shuffle three times, then cut.”
Dana picked up the cards, shuffling them with far less finesse than the woman had. “Is that my question? Why Lester is sending me out on those jobs?”
“Oh, I think you know that one already.” The woman flashed a quick grin. “I figured you’d be asking for something more helpful. Like how you can find Finn.”
Dana paused. Of course this woman was an associate of Finn’s. How else would she know about the relic? “Who is he, exactly?” she asked.
“Also a good question, but not my story to tell. However, I happen to have a soft spot for anyone who’s not being given full information, when actually they need it. That’s happened to me more than a few times. So I’m going to help both you and Finn out.”
“And in return?” Dana suddenly figured it out. “The relic. You want the Anunnaki relic.”
“It shouldn’t have been in Canada,” Sara said again. “But it’s pretty sweet, wherever it came from. You can get it?”
Dana thought of Max, and of Lester’s chamber of secrets, all laid out for Finn to see. Had the relic been there? Probably. “Oh…I can get it.”
“Then let me see how I can help you.”
Dana cut the deck and Sara reassembled it, then picked it up, laying out the cards in quick succession. Dana wasn’t familiar with Tarot, but she knew that was what she was looking at. The three cards had a moon in a dark sky above some weird, oversized creatures crawling out of the water, then a pope seated on his throne, then three young women dancing in a circle, all of them holding cups aloft. “Look, I don’t see how—”
“First we got night, someplace people usually go to at night, maybe involving the occult or hidden secrets, maybe not,” Sara said, cutting her off as she tapped the first card. “The Moon is all about secrets, so secret alcoves, hidden staircases, underground hideaways, that kind of thing.”
“Okay…”
“This card should help clear it up.” Sara touched the card with the pope. “The Hierophant. Given the givens you don’t need to know about yet, this could be the cards jerking my chain, but I don’
t think so. So it’s more likely a church, a cathedral, anything like that.”
Dana made a face. “A church people go to at night on Christmas Eve?” she asked. “That doesn’t really narrow it down. And Finn doesn’t really seem to be much of a fan of churches.”
Sara snorted. “Fair enough. Which takes us to card number three.” She pointed to the dancing women. “That could mean a lot of things, but in this context, I’m going to go with booze.” She looked up at Dana. “So a church that people go to at night, with booze.”
Dana shook her head, then she stopped, blinking. “No. No, you have got to be kidding me.”
Sara grinned. “You know a place?”
Dana coughed, barely able to keep from laughing. “I know a place. I can be there in fifteen minutes, actually. It’s that close.”
“Hang on, hang on.” Sara deftly spread the remaining cards in a smooth arc, then drew one, and flipped it toward Dana. A guy standing at the foot of a pathway, beside two staffs driven into the ground. “This place you know, plan to be there at two o’clock. I wouldn’t get there much before, or you’ll screw up the reading. Finn could go elsewhere, whoever he’s going to see could go elsewhere, a million things could go wrong. Life’s a funny place. But you get there at two and, well, you’ll find your man.”
Dana stared at her a long minute as Sara grinned back at her. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because as much as I know about what’s going on in this world, there’s still some important information that people are trying to keep from me, and that crap’s got to end.” She leaned forward, and for the first time, Dana caught sight of the pendant dangling from her neck. A delicately wrought set of old-fashioned measuring scales, gleaming in the harsh light of the mall. Sara gathered up the cards. “You go find your Finn, and you make your own decisions. To hell with people wanting to make them for you. Sound good?”
Dana found herself smiling as well. “Sounds good.”
“Excellent.” The woman squared the deck, then reached into her leather jacket and came out with a business card. “You need to find me again, you call, okay?”