by Karen Duvall
I doubted she’d follow me since ghosts are pretty much attached to either their murderers, or to the locations of their deaths. Even so, I drove up and down random side streets, continually checking the rear and side mirrors to be sure her reflection wasn’t staring back. After a half hour, I blew out a relieved breath and headed to Elmo’s.
Excited over my revelation about Gavin’s knife, I couldn’t wait to tell Quin and Elmo. When I did, it surprised me that neither of them was as enthusiastic as I was.
“You’re sure this will work?” Quin asked. Elmo hung behind him with a sick look on his face.
“Sure I’m sure.”
“So when will this battle to the death take place?”
I checked the clock hanging on Elmo’s shop-kitchen wall. “In two or three hours. It’s best that it happen before sunrise. I imagine the noise will attract the cops, so it has to be done quickly while the neighborhood is still asleep.”
Quin raised his eyebrows. “Exactly where are you planning to do away with the unwary beast?”
“I’m so glad you asked.” I peeked into the room full of fey, who cheerfully swigged and sipped their fancy coffee drinks. The usual rock music rumbled through speakers set high on the wall, and none of Elmo’s customers appeared the least bit interested in our conversation. I still kept my voice low to avoid questioning stares. “The Cathedral Basilica.”
“Isn’t that where Geraldine’s tomb is?” Quin asked.
I nodded. “Which brings me to our other order of business. We need to get her out of there.”
Both Quin and Elmo looked uncomfortable. “Do you realize her head has been in that vault since the late 1800s?” Elmo asked.
“So?”
“So moving it could be tricky.” Looking thoughtful, he laid a finger alongside his nose and frowned. “The security is really tight. I remember Aydin telling me about someone trying to steal Geraldine thirty years ago. That’s when Gavin changed the vault door from the old Diebold crane hinge that banks used in the early twentieth century. The lock is digital now.”
Aydin never told me about that. “Who was the thief?”
“One of the Hatchet knights.” Elmo cleared his throat and shifted from one foot to the other. “It was your mother.”
My stomach dropped so far I thought I’d have to pick it up off the floor. “My mother tried to steal Geraldine’s head?”
Elmo nodded. “She would have gotten away with it, too, if she’d had help. But she was alone, and though she had no problem unlocking the vault door, she wasn’t strong enough to pull it open. It weighed close to two tons. The alarm sounded and she had to run off to avoid getting caught.”
My breathing picked up speed. Taking over where my mother had left off would be a thrill, not to mention a tribute to her memory. Cracking this vault should be a piece of cake. Not only would I have help because Quin would be with me, I also had experience with the type of digital lock Gavin had installed. I’d heard the series of beeps when he keyed in the combination and I could duplicate it just like I’d done dozens of times with similar locks. It was getting away with Geraldine’s head safely intact that had me worried.
“I’m in,” Quin said, his eyes overly bright. “If you can open the vault door, we can get Geraldine to safety.”
“How?” I asked.
“Through the veil.”
“The silver veil? But humans can’t pass through any of the veils.” Goose bumps trotted up and down my arms because I knew I could pass through once I was curse-free.
“Geraldine is special. The Arelim would allow her passage.”
And me, too. But not as a gargoyle. And not while I was still bonded to one.
“Quin, can you put together a container to hold Geraldine so that she isn’t damaged when we take her from the vault?”
He looked at Elmo, who said, “I have all sizes of boxes and packing material in my storage room. Take anything you want.”
“Just point me in the right direction.”
Elmo gestured toward a doorway carved in the earthen wall.
Once Quin left us, Elmo motioned me to a table and asked if he could get me anything.
“I’ll have one of those caramel macchiatos that Aydin likes so much.”
The old elf nodded, then cocked his head to the side and studied me. “You miss him already, don’t you?”
I closed my eyes and jerked a nod.
“Me, too.”
Elmo left for his kitchen, returning a few minutes later with my coffee, as well as one for himself. He slid into the seat beside me, his feet barely touching the floor despite the short stool he sat on. “Is Aydin coming back?” His small, close-set eyes gazed at me in earnest.
“He will as soon as he can.” I took a sip of my coffee. Delicious. I suddenly realized this would be my last cup of coffee as a bonded slave. Or as a human. I preferred believing the former.
Elmo tilted the small cup to his lips and blew air across the steaming surface, though he didn’t act interested in drinking it. He must be sick of the stuff after serving it every day for who knew how many years. I wondered just how long it had been. So I asked.
“Fifteen years now.” He set his cup down and laced his short sausage fingers together while squinting in thought.
“I’m amazed Aydin has been able to keep you and your shop a secret all these years.”
“He’s been a good friend.” Elmo’s eyes had a wistful look as he stared into the distance. “We’ve helped each other a lot. We make a good team.”
“I bet you do.” Elmo’s Coffee Shop had been Aydin’s port in the storm, and now it was mine. And Quin’s. “I’d like to know more about the fey. And about white magic. Would you teach me?”
His grin split his face from ear to ear, his cheeks bulging like two ripe plums when he smiled. He was an attractive old elf. More on the ancient side, but still handsome.
“I can start by helping you learn how to use Aydin’s collection of charms,” he said.
“Charms?” I had no idea what he meant. “What charms?”
“You’ve already met one of them. You’re okay with Ruby, right?”
I liked the little frog, but she wasn’t a charmed object. “Yeah. So?”
“What do you think are stored in all those boxes you saw in my back room?” He pulled a pendant out from under the collar of his shirt. It was a rose crystal tied with a leather thong and several tiny sparrow feathers. It looked Native American. “Aydin gave it to me. It deflects prying spells like the kind witches and sorcerers cast to spy on people. I just have to be careful not to get too close to iron or the charm’s energy will weaken.”
Now I knew the contents of those boxes from Aydin’s storage room. He must have pilfered a number of charms over the course of his thieving career and the Vyantara didn’t have a clue. He probably planned to distribute them among the Hatchet knights, which is why he’d seemed so uncomfortable about me staying in that room. He knew how I felt about magic. Yet he’d still taken the time to explain how charms could help protect my sister knights. I wanted to learn anything Elmo could teach me.
A breathless Quin emerged through the kitchen. “I’m ready.” He held up a bowling bag.
“I forgot that was back there,” Elmo said.
“Do you mind?” Quin asked.
“Not at all.”
Quin held a red bowling bag emblazoned with a logo that looked like a flaming angel and said Heaven’s Warriors.
“You bowl?” I asked Elmo.
“It’s not mine. It belonged to Aydin when he played on a team. He was quite the bowler in the fifties.”
That man was full of surprises. “It looks flimsy to me.”
Quin opened the bag for me to see inside. “I put a couple layers of padding along the sides. It makes a nice cushion in case the bag gets banged around.”
“Good job. I think we have everything we need.” My pulse quickened and the coffee I’d just swallowed churned in the pit of my stomach. “Is there
room to fit the hand in there, too? Might as well keep her parts together.”
“There’s room,” Quin said.
Elmo tucked his pendant back in his shirt. “I bet a charm or two in Aydin’s collection could protect you during your battle with the gargoyle.”
“Thanks anyway, Elmo, but even if there were, I’m immune. It wouldn’t help me.”
I didn’t make a big deal out of saying goodbye to Elmo. Though there was a chance I’d never see him again, I considered it a slight one. I wanted to believe the odds were mostly in my favor.
seventeen
ARMED WITH NOTHING BUT A KNIFE MADE from the stone body of a dead gargoyle, Quin and I took the bowling bag with Geraldine’s severed hand and drove his car the few blocks to the cathedral. We had at least two hours until daybreak, and the streets were as quiet as a ghost town. I’d removed my contacts and my nose filters so that my raw senses could warn me of possible danger. So far, I saw nothing more unusual than a handful of ghosts lurking in the shadows around houses in the neighborhood. I made a point of looking for Zee, but there was no sign of her.
Quin and I didn’t talk along the way. I was too focused on sending a mental message to Shui. Though it turned my stomach, I had to let him know where I was so that he’d come to me. I couldn’t tell if my attempts were successful or not, and if they were, he didn’t respond.
I sensed he was close, but no one else was. Not even the homeless were out and about on these dark, abandoned streets, not that I expected to see any. It was freezing out, too cold even to snow. I gazed up at a black velvet sky studded with stars, the lack of cloud cover bringing temperatures below the teens.
We parked the car on the street near the church. I picked the cathedral’s lock as I had the first time I’d broken in. The janitor must have used an extra-strong cleaning solution on the floors because the smell of ammonia wiped out every other scent inside the church. That and the wood polish used to clean the pews. We kept the lights off until we reached the basement, and then I let Quin flip on the low-watt hallway light so that he could see.
When we arrived at the tapestry that covered the vault door, I removed one earplug and pressed that side of my head to the electronic keypad. I closed my eyes, trying to remember the sequence of beeps I’d heard while listening to Gavin key in the combination.
Panic edged Quin’s voice when he said, “It’s not opening.”
“Hush.” I refocused, feeling the vibrations in my fingertips when I touched the keypad, each tone syncing with the next. After just one try, the air lock released and the door’s seal popped free.
“Quin, before we go in, I need to warn you about a couple things.” I described the condition of Geraldine, letting him know it might be more illusion than reality. I guessed it was her method for self-preservation; as long as she appeared dead, the Vyantara left her alone. “I don’t know if she’ll talk to you.”
“Why not?”
“She won’t talk to just anyone.”
“I’m not just anyone. I talk to angels just like she does. And besides, she spoke to Aydin.”
Did I hear a note of jealousy in his voice? “Only because they’ve known each other for more than nine centuries. That breeds a certain kind of familiarity, don’t you think?”
“I suppose.” He straightened his spine, pulling at the collar of his sweater and smoothing the sleeves of his suede jacket. “Do I look all right?”
I peered at the scars on his face, which had faded to almost nothing. I gave him a sniff. He smelled like coffee. “You’re fine.”
“It isn’t every day you get to meet a live saint from medieval times.”
“Technically, she’s not a saint.” And the live part was debatable.
He frowned and pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. “I suppose you’re right.” He looked wistful when he said, “She’s like me, Chalice. She talks to angels the same as I do. I’ve never known anyone else who could do that.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never met other psychics.”
“Sure I have, but none of the ones I know can channel angels.” The corners of his mouth turned down when he said, “It’s a special gift that can get you into trouble if you’re not careful.”
He was living proof of that. Or I should say re-living proof. And so was Geraldine.
He held the door open for me and I preceded him into the tomb. Her silver aura appeared unchanged, but her mummified skin remained dry and sunken like a nine-hundred-year-old corpse.
I glanced at Quin, whose upper lip curled in disgust.
“Stop it. You’ll hurt her feelings.”
Scowling, he looked from me to Geraldine and back again. “There’s no way this thing is alive.”
“She’s not a thing!” I watched her for a minute longer, but there was no change. I wondered why. Didn’t she trust Quin? Was she okay? Well, she obviously wasn’t okay, but had something happened to make her worse? I waited for a warning about my impending fight with Shui. Nothing. Why wouldn’t she speak to me?
“We can’t wait any longer.” I listened for an alarm, but there was none. No one but Elmo knew we were here. Gavin was in Canada, so was Aydin, and Zee was dead. Perhaps some members of the Vyantara had stayed behind, but that was doubtful.
I sniffed the air for signs of Shui, but I didn’t detect his unique gorge-rising stench. There were no smells at all inside the tomb. And no sounds. I felt a twinge of wrongness grab the base of my spine.
“Get her into the bag. Hurry!”
Quin slid on a pair of latex gloves and gently lifted the mummified head from the table. He slipped it in the bag and zipped it closed.
“Stay here,” I told him, and crept to the open door. That’s when I smelled him.
“I knew I’d find you here.” Gavin’s voice had never sounded so cold.
I practically choked the second I saw him, but struggled to keep my cool. Reaching inside for my anger, I let it coat me from head to toe in an effort to hide the truth from Gavin. He didn’t know Quin was inside the tomb and I was desperate to keep it that way.
My knees wobbly as a newborn colt, I sauntered out of the vault and pushed the door shut behind me. I watched Gavin’s face for a change in expression. There was none. He looked as bland as ever.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
That made him smile. “As if you didn’t know.”
Okay, so we were just filling space with meaningless words. I stalled for time as my mind buzzed like crazy, my mental wheels spinning on a plan. Any plan. Something. But I came up empty.
“Where’s Shui?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t a clue. He flew off after the explosion and I haven’t seen him since.”
There weren’t many places a gargoyle could hide, unless he camouflaged himself among the statues on any number of historical buildings downtown. Denver’s older architecture was known for its ornamental statuary. Shui would blend right in.
“I thought you were in Canada.”
“I had a few things to wrap up here first.” His crooked smile was snide as ever and I wanted to smack it off his face. “One of which is to collect Geraldine and take her to the Fatherhouse in Quebec. There’s a lovely old cathedral in town that I think she’ll be fond of.”
I stepped aside to give him access to the vault. “Be my guest.”
His smile faltered. He suspected something was up, but not what. I didn’t dare hope he’d be stupid enough to walk past me without expecting a knife in his back.
He suddenly crouched and looked up at the ceiling, bowing his head and throwing up his arms as if to ward something off. I reacted as well, though I hadn’t seen anything. My first thought was that Shui must have responded to my telepathic call and was swooping in for the kill.
When I shifted my attention away from Gavin, he rushed in and grabbed me from behind, pinning my arms so tight that an ounce more stress on my bones would surely break them. He was damn strong for an old man. A hell of a lot stro
nger than me. I kicked backward and he squeezed me tighter, forcing my shoulders back so far that I thought the bones would pop from their sockets.
He pressed his face against my cheek, his lips touching my ear. I felt drops of spittle fleck my skin when he breathed. “Hold still or I’ll break both your arms.”
“Not if I break yours first.”
He chuckled. “Such a dreamer. As always, your reach exceeds your grasp.” He grabbed both my wrists in one powerful hand while using the other to search inside my coat. I knew what he was looking for, and a sick, lost feeling filled me from the toes up. If he took the knife away, my chance at freedom was lost.
His hand slid up my rib cage and over my breasts, making me gasp. He’d done some horrible things to me in the past, but never had he molested me sexually. I’d let him do it now if it would distract him from what he was really after. His hand changed direction to feel the lining of my coat, searching for an inside pocket. When he found the knife, he yanked it free and pushed me away.
I fell to the floor, both my arms aching, but I could still move my fingers so I knew they weren’t broken. I jumped to my feet and Gavin brandished the knife, waving it within an inch of my face. I automatically reached behind my head to grab my Balisong, but the sheath was empty. Zee had liberated me of my blade several days ago. I was helpless.
“It’s such a fine piece of craftsmanship,” he said, tilting the knife and swiping it slowly through the air as if wielding a sword ten times its size. “I can understand why you wanted it so badly. I think you know why I had to take it back.”
“That’s why Shui left you.” My heart beat so hard and fast I heard it echo inside my head. But adrenaline kept me alert, and it also sparked a few extra brain cells as new understanding clicked into place. “He left because you lost the means to control him.”