by Dima Zales
“I find that last bit very hard to believe,” I say, desperately thinking of a way to bypass Eric.
The elevator closes, taking Thalia away.
“Don’t worry,” Eric says. “It’s not just me and Thalia guarding you. I have people surrounding this building—including the back entrance. No one can come in without me knowing.”
Implication being that no one can leave without Eric knowing it also.
Well, let’s see how good he is at his job then.
I convince myself that I’m going to just run for it—which isn’t hard, as I’m itching to do it. Next, I inhale a deep breath and jump into Headspace.
The shapes around me seem unpleasant but not deadly.
Going on instinct, I reach for one.
“Fair enough,” I say to Eric and turn back toward the door, my muscles coiling for a sprint.
“Give me a shout if you need anything,” he says.
Without a reply, I leap to the side and sprint for the staircase—just to bump into Eric’s hard body.
Wow.
He must have super speed, to get in my way so quickly.
“Please, Sasha,” Eric says, steadying me by my arms. “Just go home.”
Huffing, I twist away and walk back into the apartment.
Back in reality, I jump back into Headspace and attempt a few more visions of escape. In each, Eric thwarts me, and in some, he carries me home with varying levels of kicking and screaming on my part.
Exiting Headspace for the last time, I enter the apartment and slam the door in Eric’s face.
Pacing the hallway, I strain to come up with a way out of this unfortunate predicament.
Could I threaten him with a gun? Bluff my way out?
The problem is that I left my gun in the lab near the JFK hub.
I go into Ariel’s room and look for a gun she might’ve stashed there. She takes her Second Amendment rights very seriously, so I have a chance.
After a long search, I locate a pair of handcuffs in her nightstand, two knives in her closet, and a box of bullets under her bed—but no gun.
I don’t want to give up, though. There has to be another way out of the apartment.
I resume pacing until I see Fluffster staring at me quizzically—which is when an idea occurs to me.
I quickly explain the situation to the chinchilla and head for the door.
“Hi, Eric.” I smile at the guard when I open it. “I’m sorry if I was cranky earlier. Nero gets under my skin, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
“No sweat.” He beams at me. “I don’t like this either. I thought I’d be a bodyguard, not some jailer. But I owe Nero a favor, and he said this is to keep you safe, so…”
“Do you want some coffee or tea?” I say as nonchalantly as possible. “Maybe a chair, so you don’t have to stand here in the hallway?”
His smile widens. “Coffee would be great, thanks.”
“Awesome,” I say and head into the kitchen.
Eric enters the apartment without an invitation, so he’s not a vampire—not that I thought he was, with that perfectly tanned skin of his.
When he follows me into the kitchen, I hand him an espresso and say, “Oh crap. I forgot to take off my shoes.”
As I start to leave, Eric downs the drink on a single gulp and moves to follow me—until Fluffster walks into his path.
“Actually,” I say, dropping the friendly tone. “I think it would be best if you stayed in the kitchen.”
Using that as his cue, Fluffster changes into his monster form.
He doesn’t look as terrifying as when he killed Harper-the-succubus, but it’s enough to raise my blood pressure, and I’m not the one in danger.
“Nero told me you might try this,” Eric says calmly and sighs. “I was hoping he was wrong about that.”
I stare at him in confusion. How powerful is he not to be afraid of a domovoi protecting its own house?
Then again, Nero asked this guy to guard me. Given my penchant for making powerful enemies, he would have to be pretty formidable.
With an exaggerated sigh, Eric poofs out of existence in front of my eyes as if he was never there.
I rub my eyes.
Nope. He’s gone.
I look at Fluffster. He returns to his cute chinchilla shape and also looks confused.
“Are you invisible?” Arms outstretched, I grope around the kitchen air like a lunatic but find no sign of Eric.
There’s a knock on the front door.
I go to open it—and find Eric standing there, looking smug.
“How?” I demand. “You were just in my kitchen.”
“I can teleport.” Eric’s chest puffs up, making him look like a penguin. “If the guards downstairs warn me of danger, I’m supposed to teleport you away to safety.” He looks at Fluffster. “I hope your domovoi isn’t going to stop me from performing my duties?”
“Of course not,” Fluffster says with a swish of his puffy tail.
So a teleporter, huh? Hekima did mention teleporting power at one of the Orientations. He said it’s rare—but I guess if someone knew a teleporter, it would be Nero.
I’m about to pepper Eric with questions about his power when the elevator dings and its doors start to open.
With grim determination, Eric snatches my wrist and tenses—apparently ready to teleport me away from danger.
To my shock, my mother steps out of the elevator.
Chapter Three
My real mom, that is, not Lilith.
The expression on her face makes me think that she has entered a new phase of worrying about me that’s beyond her usual ‘panic mode.’
Crap. I should’ve called her as soon as I discovered those missed phone calls.
At the sight of me in the doorway, relief flashes across her face, then morphs into indignation. But before she can say anything, her gaze lands on Eric, and she looks both confused and impressed.
“Don’t,” I hiss at Eric and try to pull away.
If he teleports me now, he’ll break the Mandate and probably give my mom a heart attack to boot.
But it looks like I didn’t have to warn him. Something about my mom—most likely her lack of Mandate aura—makes Eric let go of my wrist as if I suddenly developed a bad case of cooties.
“Mrs. Ballard.” He hits Mom with a smile so charming, you’d expect him to save a Disney princess at any moment. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Wow. Nero really prepared this guy for his duty. Unless he's always prepared my guards so thoroughly, and I just didn’t realize it?
Instead of replying, Mom blushes like a medieval maiden who’s never seen an attractive man before.
“As I was saying, Eric.” I pointedly clear my throat. “Ariel isn’t home, but she’ll be back before you know it.”
“Right,” he says and winks at me in such a way that Mom can’t see it. “I’ll wait here for Ariel so that I can surprise her when she steps out of that elevator. Thank you.”
“Yeah.” I fight to keep the sarcasm from my voice. “Good thinking.” Waving at my Eric-gaping parent, I say, “Come on, Mom, let me make you some of your favorite tea.”
She peels her eyes away from my guard and follows me into the apartment.
Once inside, she gives me a disappointed look. “So that man is dating Ariel, not you?”
Is this a prelude to the whole “I want grandchildren” conversation? If so, I have to be careful as that topic can take all day—and I don’t have the luxury of “accidentally” losing a phone call or having my Skype “cut out.”
“He and Ariel belong together,” I say, leading her into the kitchen. “In any case, I’m already seeing someone else.”
As I speak, I wonder if I’m lying. I almost wish I were Pinocchio, so I could see what would happen to my nose.
Mom sits down at the table, her eyes shining with excitement. “Who? How? Tell me all the details.”
If only I could manipulate my enemies as eas
ily as this. I have Mom now—hook, line, and sinker.
“It’s still early, so I don’t want to jinx it by talking about him.” I place my phone on the table in case Nero calls, then put on the kettle. “Knowing you, you’d like him. I’m sure of that.”
Of course she would. Nero is the richest person I know, and that carries a lot of weight in my mom’s book. Once she learns that and she sees how attractive he is, there will be no end to the baby hints. She wouldn’t care that he’s my boss or a dragon—not that she would ever learn about the latter.
“That’s wise,” Mom says, nodding sagely. “Tell me after it’s more official.”
Yep, that worked as expected. She believes in the evil eye and stuff like that, so the idea of jinxing a new relationship makes perfect sense to her—and the relationship bit is a great distraction from my disappearance.
“I just got back,” I say, deciding to really push my luck. “He took me on a romantic getaway, and we left both our phones at home. When I saw your calls a couple of minutes ago, I realized I should’ve let you know about the trip before leaving, but it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and I thought you were still in Paris, so—”
“Oh, sweetie.” Her eyes gleam brightly. “I understand completely. In fact, it must be kismet because I, too, have met someone in Paris. He was there on business, and the reason I’m back is so that he and I can spend more time together—but I also don’t want to jinx things by talking about him too much.”
Wow.
Mom has met someone?
That’s huge.
And, despite what she says, it’s clear she’s itching to tell me all about it.
“Is he from New York?” I put a couple of different teabags into Mom’s cup and pour in the boiling water. “Is he tall? I’m sure it’s safe for you to tell me that much.”
“I’ll tell you everything when things get more serious,” Mom says with a self-discipline even Thalia would envy.
“Can’t blame you,” I say. “What else is—”
My phone rings.
We both look at it.
The caller is Dad—as in, the man who raised me and Mom’s former husband.
Mom’s expression is hard to read, but I can guess she doesn’t like this.
“I love you both, Mom,” I say as I reach for the phone. “I’d never choose him over you, I swear.”
“That’s nice,” she says blandly. “You should take the call, though; I think I know why he’s calling.”
Confused, I pick up the phone.
“Sasha?” My dad sounds panicky—something that never happens.
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s a man here not letting me ring your doorbell,” he says. “Is everything okay? Your mother—”
“Wait, what? You’re at the door? Here in New York?”
“Yes. And—”
“Hold on.” I rush over to the door and open it.
Eric, who’s blocking Dad’s path, looks at me questioningly.
I guess Nero left him a dossier that included my local mom but not my out-of-town dad.
“Let my father through, please,” I say. “Ariel should be home any minute now.”
“Right.” Eric clears his throat and moves out of the way. “Sorry about that. Ariel—my girlfriend—told me someone was prank-ringing her doorbell, so I—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dad says. “I’m just glad Sasha is alive.”
Alive?
Baffled, I usher Dad into the apartment. “Why wouldn’t I be alive?”
“Makenzie,” Dad says with exaggerated cordiality as Mom comes up to us.
“Braxton.” She nods, her tone cool but not as nasty as I’d expect.
“What’s going on?” I look from one parental unit to the other.
“This might be my fault,” Mom says, her gaze dropping to her impeccable Louis Vuitton pumps. “I couldn’t reach you, and since I knew the two of you started talking, I called him to see if he knew where you were.”
Oh. I forgot about the past-panic-mode freak-out. Apparently, when she’s worried about me enough, Mom is willing to call the devil himself.
I guess it’s touching, in an insane sort of way.
“I jumped on a plane to come find you,” Dad says. “But I guess you weren’t all that lost.”
“She had a good reason for her disappearance,” Mom says defensively—even though Dad didn’t sound the least bit accusing, just relieved. “It was just a feminine matter.” She looks at him challengingly. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Dad pales.
I bet he just pictured me getting a back-alley abortion or uterine cancer.
“The good news is that I’m totally and absolutely fine,” I say before this bizarre conversation turns into a fight—and I don’t need seer powers to know that future is nigh.
Is that why I have a bad feeling creeping up, one that reminds me of my usual seer warnings, but not as directed?
I am a trouble magnet, so maybe this is my powers warning me about my human parents being so close to me? After all, if Lilith arrived here right now, Eric would likely only teleport me away, not them.
That does it. My intuitions aren’t something I can afford to ignore, so my parents have to go.
“The good news is that I got to see you both,” I say, frantically working out a swift exit strategy. “We should definitely make plans to properly hang out soon—but not right this moment because I have a crazy pile-up of work.”
“Oh,” they both say disappointedly. It’s admirable how they thought they were going to tolerate each other’s presence and hang out with me like two civilized adults.
And hey, maybe they could have. I mean, they’re still civil, and that’s already monumental progress.
“Call me when you’re free this weekend,” I say to them. “And, Dad, if you have to go back, no worries. I’ll fly out to see you as soon as my schedule allows.”
To my surprise, Mom smiles approvingly.
Did meeting a new man help her move on? Or is it the bonding experience of “losing me?”
“Right,” Dad says to me, then turns to Mom. “We should let Sasha work.”
“You have a cat now?” Mom asks, spotting Lucifur—who’s looking at everyone with a malevolent expression on her flat face. “What happened to the furry rat creature?”
“Yes. That’s Luci.” I herd both parents toward the door. “Fluffster is doing well, Mom, don’t worry. He and the cat are besties now.”
Hearing his name, Fluffster shows up from the living room.
“A chinchilla?” Dad exclaims, and I guiltily realize he’s never been to my place or even heard about Fluffster’s existence. “You’ll have to tell me about that, and the cat, when we hang out,” he says.
“And me about the cat,” Mom adds jealously.
“I will,” I say as I open the door. “I promise.”
They reluctantly exit.
“Hello,” Eric says to my parents. “Let me summon the elevator for you two.”
Before they reply, he does as he offered, and the elevator opens right away. It must have not left since Dad got here.
My parents walk in, and as the doors close, I belatedly realize that having them ride down together might not be the best idea. Then again, if a cat and a sort-of rodent can share an apartment, those two can survive a single elevator ride. Still, I make a mental note to use a vision later to make sure they made it out with their sanities intact.
“Crap,” I say to Eric as an impromptu idea pops into my head. “I forgot to give Mom something. I’m going to run down and give it to her.”
“Of course,” Eric says. “We’ll go together.”
Smart. But maybe he still doesn’t get what I’m trying to do. Let’s see. “Actually,” I say nonchalantly, “maybe you can just catch her for me and give this to her?”
Not letting him reply, I run back into the apartment, relocate Mom’s tea into a paper cup, and rush out to give it to Eric.
“Sure thing.” Eric takes the cup and poofs out of existence.
I run for the stairs, but before I’m halfway to the next floor, I spot Eric already standing there, waiting for me with a smile.
Damn him and his teleportation.
How am I ever going to escape?
Chapter Four
Thinking ahead, I pretend not to notice Eric there and run down, smacking into him with a loud plop.
The tea cup flies to the floor, and the shock of the impact gives me a moment to get a little revenge on Eric.
Before he catches on to my sneaky business, I say, “Hey. That hurt.”
“You should watch where you’re running,” Eric says, nonplussed, as he picks up the now-empty cup. “In general, I’d appreciate it if you could avoid unnecessary physical contact with me going forward. I don’t want to break Nero’s orders, even by accident.”
Nero asked him not to touch me? What about my opinion on the matter? Maybe I want Eric to touch me. I mean, I definitely don’t, but many women would and the restriction is annoying, to say the least. Only I should decide who does or doesn’t touch me.
“Let’s go.” Eric gestures for me to lead the way.
“Maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” I say when we’re halfway to our destination. “My problem isn’t with you.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Eric says. “If you stop making my job so hard, I’ll call us even.”
“Sure,” I lie. “Also, I was wondering if you could spare some guards from your retinue to look after my folks?”
Eric clears his throat. “Nero already has people watching them,” he says after a pause. “They were here with them; your parents just didn’t know that.”
I recall Nero saying something along those lines before, but I didn’t realize he’d kept on watching over my parents even after the threat of Baba Yaga was neutralized. After I give him a piece of my mind about my incarceration, I’ll have to also thank him for looking after them.
I guess his annoying habit of hiring guards to stalk people is a double-edged sword.