Inside Straight

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Inside Straight Page 32

by Mark Henwick


  “Two days! We can’t even start looking for Tullah until tomorrow.”

  I was getting too worked up. I could feel Yelena’s eukori touch me, supporting me, but trying to calm me as well.

  “Then your House has to step up,” Bian went on relentlessly. “Yelena, Pia, Amanda. Even David. We need to know if your infusion is also passed on to others. We have a lot of volunteers from Ops 4-10.”

  “Once you’ve infused Mykayla, you could concentrate on finding Tullah while we handle the rest of it,” Yelena said.

  “I can’t just abandon Mykayla after infusing her,” I said. “And we don’t have enough Mentors anyway.”

  “I’m making that point,” Bian said. “Along with an argument that we need to train new Mentors if the crusis is different. I’m hoping we’ll be able to get a couple of recruits, even if everybody is stretched thinly.”

  I sighed and buried my face in my hands. I couldn’t be angry at Bian and Yelena. Skylur and his new Diakon were too far away for my anger at them to be satisfying.

  “What else?” I asked. “Tove? Tamanny?”

  “I’ve made the case that Tamanny’s too young, and they accepted it. You’ll have to come up with some arrangement that keeps her out of the way. Tove... you need to bind her or I’ll need to cloud her memories and send her back home.”

  As she said that, I sensed Tove herself was coming down the corridor, eager to show me her latest purchases.

  I felt sick. The last thing she needed right now was this kind of pressure.

  Before she could get to us, Flint and Kane burst out of the room two doors down, the one with the secret elevator that connected to the dungeon and the Dark Library.

  “Boss, we can do it,” Flint called out. He came around the corner waving an old book.

  “We don’t need the Northern Adept League,” Kane said, cannoning into him. “Don’t need to wait. Don’t need to do anything but spirit walk to find Tullah.”

  “Sort of,” Flint amended. “With... err... a little tweak, here and there.”

  Chapter 50

  “So, all we need is a sweat lodge and a good dose of mescaline,” I said after they’d outlined the ritual that a madman had written down in some coded language. A language that my two Adepts claimed to be able to understand. More or less.

  “Well, there’s a sauna in the house somewhere.” Flint refused to give up.

  Bian snorted. “One right next to the gym.” She was watching us with the sort of fascination people have for the sight of a car sliding down an icy hill.

  “It’s night, it’s snowing and we’re sitting fifteen miles as the crow flies outside of Denver, and we don’t have peyote,” I said. “We’re about seven hundred miles north of the Chihuahua Desert, where the stuff grows. It takes—”

  “I can score you some mesc.”

  I had forgotten all about Tove. She was standing in the doorway as if unsure whether to come in.

  “Take me an hour or less downtown,” she said quietly.

  Her head was hanging down and she was finding the toes of her new shoes fascinating.

  “Yes!” Kane said triumphantly.

  “Hold it.”

  This was all wrong, and yet I could feel my oath surge in me, just as Kane’s enthusiasm had reignited when she’d spoken.

  As Bian had reminded me, I needed to talk to Tove, and there was no time to put it off.

  We needed privacy. I remembered there were chairs in the room with the elevator. I guided Tove in there and closed the door behind us.

  “You sure?” I asked as we sat. “Not just you can do it, but you want to do it?”

  She nodded, not meeting my eyes.

  “You learn,” she said, meaning when you’re an addict. “You can spot the clues. It won’t take more than a couple of questions to find who deals in mesc.”

  She looked up and back down hurriedly. “I don’t want the drugs.” I could see her jaw working for several seconds. “I want to be free of them. But you guys need them for this crazy stuff.”

  “Crazy is right.” I sighed. “You’ll need to take someone with you. And you’ll need to change. You look like a million dollars at the moment.”

  That got a fleeting smile, a genuinely pleased one, and a quiet “Thanks.”

  “So, you’ve probably got some ideas forming of what we really are. Still thinking we’re a sex cult?”

  “You’re some kind of witches?” she said hesitantly. “Like for real?”

  “Right idea. For some of us, anyway.”

  “That scary woman at the house this morning. You called her Hecate. I know she’s a witch. I mean, just look at her. Hecate’s a witch name, too.”

  I grinned, but I decided against outing the Northern Adept League just yet.

  “It is for real,” I said. “And we have to come to a decision about what you want to do. It’s a big commitment to join us.”

  She nodded. Her heart rate was climbing, and her hands started their nervous butterfly movements.

  “You remember what I said in the club? I can’t really tell you what we are until you trust me, absolutely, and mean it when you ask me to help.”

  I pulled her to her feet and wrapped her carefully in a hug, alert to any holding back on her part.

  “You go get us some peyote. It’ll take over an hour to get you downtown and back. Just about enough time for you to think it over one last time. If you come back and say the word, I’ll tell you what’s involved in joining us.”

  “I always mess things up,” she whispered. “What if I get too scared at the last minute? What if I go downtown and see things and I just want...”

  “I’m already sure you don’t want the drugs, Tove. Scared, I can handle. They always used to tell me in the army, if I wasn’t scared I hadn’t understood how dangerous it was.” I pulled away from her and waited till she looked up. “If you don’t want to join us, that’s okay. We’ll get you back to your parents and what’s happened here in Denver will all fade into a sort of dream.”

  “You can do that?”

  I nodded and she shivered.

  “Can Rita come downtown with me?” she asked. “I don’t know why, but she makes me feel safe.”

  I smiled at that. “You are safe with her. Of course Rita can take you. She’ll need to change her clothes too. You can advise her on what to wear to blend in.”

  I took her back to the main living room, just as Rita returned.

  “The cubs are being put through some late-night exercises by Annie,” she said. “Scott’s with them.”

  I explained briefly about needing to escort Tove to buy drugs. Rita’s face betrayed not the slightest question about why I suddenly needed mescaline, but the corner of her mouth lifted a little when I explained they’d have to wear scruffy clothes to pass as addicts.

  They left.

  I tried calling Jen and still got no answer. There were texts waiting.

  Zane: Call me.

  Nope.

  Mom: Call. It’s Kath. It’s urgent.

  I closed my eyes and ran a trembling hand through my hair. Right now, my oath was singing in my Blood: Tullah. Tara. Hana. It didn’t matter how much I wanted to try and get back on track with my family, I couldn’t go and do it now. I’d do whatever I could, when I could, but I couldn’t go back into Denver now. I was going to be needed here, when Tove got back.

  I couldn’t even call, because then I’d have to explain why I couldn’t come.

  I had to do something.

  I called Manassah and asked David if he could help. Mom had actually met him a while back, and he wouldn’t be as frightening as Yelena turning up on the doorstep. Or as impatient.

  Bian heard it all. She was watching me sympathetically, but she didn’t speak about it.

  “Diana’s offering us dinner in the dungeon,” she said after I ended the call with David. “Highly recommended. She’s cooked her pot-baked Greek lamb with kritharaki pasta. Not to be missed. And it’ll pass the time till Tove get
s back.”

  I snorted. “Wouldn’t dare miss it. For dessert...”

  Bian raised an eyebrow.

  “Think you can swing a dinner invitation for Mykayla as well?”

  She laughed. “Oh, yes. So, Mykayla gets her wish tonight. One of them.”

  I tried to join in, but my stomach was beginning to tighten at the thought of infusing Mykayla.

  What if it goes wrong?

  It was really bad timing, but at least Bian would have a first infusion to report tomorrow. It’d show Diakon Flavia that we were moving forward. Or give her a reason why we weren’t. My heart stuttered again and my doubts must have shown.

  “It’ll be fine,” Bian said. “Diana and I won’t let it go wrong. Let me worry about Flavia.”

  I hoped my first experience of Skylur’s new Diakon wasn’t an indication of how our relationship would develop. I’d started off on the wrong foot with his last one, Naryn, and had never managed to repair the damage. It had made things difficult at a difficult time. I could do without that happening again, especially at the moment.

  Chapter 51

  Dinner was as good as Bian said it would be: succulent lamb and old red wine from the Rhône river in France, a wine that smelled of cedar wood with a taste that made me think of dark apricots dried in the desert sun.

  “It’s from Grange de Beauvenir, one of the oldest vineyards in Chateauneuf-du-Pape,” Diana said. “A wine producer before they actually branded the region with that name, from the time when popes lived just down the river in Avignon. It’s a beautiful place. Its cellars are dug right into the bedrock and you can still see some of the old buildings. Of course, it’s a modern business now, Château La Nerthe, with an actual chateau. These older wines are one of Skylur’s many favorites.”

  “Hope he doesn’t miss them,” I said, pouring myself some more, and she laughed.

  I didn’t have Mykayla for dessert. Instead Diana produced a selection of bite-sized baklava pastries, dripping honey. Bian insisted on feeding me a couple. For practice, she insisted, with a sexy little smile.

  “That was all delicious, Diana,” I said as the last of the baklava disappeared. The others joined in.

  “It keeps me occupied down here in the dungeon.” She waved away our compliments.

  After a dinner that had been noisy with talk across the table, it grew quiet, and I sensed Kaothos stir invisibly around us.

  Alice brought coffee to the table, and we changed seats again, as we had at each course.

  Now Mykayla was sitting beside me. I could taste her eagerness, and her pulse set my fangs to throbbing in time.

  To go along with the coffee, Diana sent a bottle of brandy around the table.

  I poured myself a shot, a small one, and passed the bottle on.

  The evening was a disorienting mix of the everyday and the paranormal—a dinner with friends, with good food and wine, with pleasant conversation. To be followed by me biting Mykayla’s neck and infusing her.

  I wasn’t ready, but I knew I’d never feel ready, and events were shepherding me onwards.

  Yelena and Bian cleared the table, over token protests from the rest of us lazy slackers.

  Reaching around me to pick up my brandy glass, Yelena took the time to plant a kiss on my cheek and pat me.

  “It will be fine,” she whispered, at the same time she stole my cell.

  One of the many issues adding to my feeling of uncertainty was worry about Tove, who had taken longer than she’d anticipated. But as I was about to ask Yelena to call and find out what was happening, the guards on the gate messaged Bian that Rita and Tove had arrived back with the drug.

  Bian had organized one of her kin with the necessary knowledge to perform a chemical test to ensure the mescaline was pure, so there was yet another delay before we did anything with it.

  Sensing the turmoil in my thoughts, Diana looked at me. “What do you wish to do, Amber?”

  I took a deep breath. “Please ask them both to come down here.”

  I squeezed Mykayla’s hand, and got back an answering squeeze.

  As promised, Tove was going to find out what we were about. From a front row seat.

  Rita and Tove stepped out of the elevator a minute later.

  They were both still dressed in grunge—torn jeans, sloppy sweatshirts, messed hair, and yet they both looked great. I was surprised they’d passed as addicts, although, of course, Tove still qualified.

  Tove was trying to imitate Rita’s prowling way of walking. It was making them both laugh, and for a second I got another glimpse of that fresh-faced Minnesota teen. How would things have turned out of she’d never met Forsythe? If luck had given her a role to play in a TV series about fresh-faced Minnesota teens. Or if she’d given up in LA and gone home before anything bad had happened?

  Too many what-ifs.

  I had to deal with what was here and now.

  Tove’s laughter cut off as she took in the surroundings. The eerie Lyssae standing along the walls. The group waiting at the table.

  I patted the empty seat next to me, on the other side from Mykayla, who’d put a possessive hand on my thigh.

  Tove sat down, serious and wide-eyed again. Her heartrate soared. Then Rita chased Yelena away to allow her to sit next to Tove. She took her hand and Tove’s heart steadied a little.

  Interesting.

  “Made up your mind?” I asked, trying to be gentle, but also getting straight to the point.

  She nodded jerkily.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a problem. I get that there are other things happening, important things, and I’m only in the way.” Tears gleamed in her eyes as she raised them briefly to look at me. “You don’t need this crap, but I know I need help. I can’t have you or Rita there all the time for me. I know I’m not strong enough alone. I saw that tonight. You’ve seen it. I always mess things up.”

  “I don’t see that at all,” I said. “But we can work on that view of yourself as we go. What I need tonight is for you to understand what we are and what our helping you will mean. But I’ll start by saying this: you will never really be alone again.”

  I could have offered her a million dollars for the reaction those words got: eyes wide and a deep-down longing that my half-open eukori had no problem in sensing.

  “You thought we were all witches,” I said. “Still think that? Rita, for example?”

  Rita chuckled and Tove shook her head.

  “They’re witches,” I pointed at Flint and Kane. “And Rita’s a were-cougar,” I said, and smelled the spike of adrenaline.

  Tove turned quickly to Rita. The were-cougar simply smiled. Her eyes went a little more cat green, but she didn’t say anything. Tove didn’t let go of her hand.

  I could see Tove trusted Rita to the extent that, when Rita didn’t deny being a shapeshifter, Tove knew it was true.

  Heartrate climbing again, she turned back to me.

  “And although we don’t use that name, people would call me a vampire.”

  Now the adrenaline really spiked. She knew I wasn’t joking.

  Her breathing doubled and her lips compressed, but instead of dropping her head again, she looked at me straight in the eyes.

  My fangs were already throbbing, and that simple act, of not looking away, was what my Athanate needed to see.

  Mine.

  But first things first. Mykayla.

  “You’re going to have an unusual introduction, Tove,” I said. “If you still want to go ahead after that, you’ll learn the rest over the next few weeks, but tonight, right now, you’ll see the heart of it.”

  I pulled Mykayla up and sat her on the table in front of me.

  She was grinning and wriggling with excitement.

  “This is supposed to be a solemn occasion,” I said, and she giggled.

  “How do you want me?” she asked, but I was already pushing and twisting her around till she was lying on the table, her head right in front of Tove.

  Her T-shirt lef
t her neck bare.

  I let my eukori spread out slowly.

  Mykayla was a pink rose glow, her whole body alight with anticipation. Tove pale as mist, struggling within herself, puzzled and then shocked at suddenly feeling everything that was going on in our bodies. She mistook the sensations, and her hand flew up to her mouth to check that she hadn’t grown a pair of fangs as I had.

  Rita was whispering explanations in her ear. I doubted much got through at that moment, but that voice grounded her.

  I licked Mykayla’s throat, fangs aching with the need to bite. I felt the tiny bumps of old healed bites under my tongue, the thud of her pulse as she arched her back, her ragged breath, her arms around me, urging me on.

  Oh, yes.

  My eukori slipped the leash and flooded out, touching everyone in the room. A much stronger eukori than a young Athanate should have, thanks to my Carpathian heritage, but I couldn’t hide it.

  And my fangs pierced Mykayla’s neck, found her jugular. I pulled. Blood coursed into my taryma, down to the Athanate glands.

  Yes!

  Mykayla groaned and a sweet oblivion of pleasure beckoned, but Diana was already in my head, gently guiding. Mykayla couldn’t have been safer, and there was more to do.

  Diana stirred the same mix of sensation and memory that Pia had, when I’d infused Scott, but Diana’s was so much richer. Almost too much to bear. And yet it came more easily the second time. Maybe because Mykayla was awake and eager. Her excitement produced flavors I couldn’t quite describe. Emotions that seemed to soar away as I reached for them. Sensations in her body far beyond her throat.

  Behind it all a deep feeling of sacred growth that came from all the Athanate in the room.

  And stunned fascination from Tove.

  Too soon, my fangs slipped from Mykayla’s neck and I went back to licking her skin to speed the sealing of the blood vessels as she relaxed.

  In contrast to Scott’s infusion, there were no alarms. Mykayla’s body had no violent reaction to my bio-agents.

 

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