Shadow Dancer (Kitsune series)

by Morgan Blayde

  I smiled. “Ghosts have more to say.”

  TWO

  I paid attention going into the HPI compound. You never know when you’ll have to beat a hasty—unauthorized—retreat. The property’s outer wall loomed, built from complementing shades of gray stone. The only break came where a driveway ran through. A keypad code caused a metal gate to slide out of our way. I memorized the number though they probably changed it regularly. Standard stuff so far. I thought this could just be a luxury apartment compound, until I saw sensors poking up out of the ground inside the wall.

  We picked up an escort, another silver Lexus. I sensed a theme. I guessed they were here to see that we went where we were supposed to. We passed several buildings, all Industrial chic, adorned with wall-mounted cameras. The compound looked out of place, surrounded by east Texas forest. Okay, escaping all this would be harder, but not impossible. I absorbed the lay of the land on the way to a twenty-story steel and glass building. The glass was silver blue, probably one-way.

  We drove around to the side and down a ramp into an underground parking garage. More Lexuses huddled here and there. Our escort vehicle pulled away, turned around, and came back as we parked. We left our car. Ms. Griffin took my arm, walking me past the idling vehicle. Through the windshield, I caught a glimpse of hard faces and dark suits.

  “My luggage,” I said.

  Hammer padded along softly behind me, awfully quiet for a big man. “Your stuff will be taken to your room, after being checked for contraband.”

  “A formality really,” Ms. Griffin led us to the elevator and pressed the call button. We waited. The door opened and we piled on. She hit the control panel, picking up the conversation after the lull, “I don’t anticipate a problem. Oh, Grace, I need to make a quick stop at my office. After that, I’ll take you up to the dorm level. I know you’ve had a traumatic arrival so far, but I hope you’re up to meeting the other kids in the program. They’re quite anxious to meet you.”

  I chewed my lip. “How much do they know?”

  “Well, that convenience store robbery you stumbled into did receive national attention, and even though your name wasn’t released by the authorities, the store’s surveillance tape was featured on several popular websites. Anyone able to hack law enforcement could link the incident to you.”

  “That’s most of our kids.” Hammer gave me a cold stare. “You’re not planning on setting fires while here, I hope.”

  I gave him my most innocent look, adding a hint of curiosity to my voice. “Who, me?”

  The door opened to a wide space with gray marble tiles, a smoky quartz chandelier, elevators, and an unmanned reception desk of dark glass and chrome.

  “I’m just saying, we have state-of-the-art firefighting systems,” Hammer said.

  “There wouldn’t be much point, outside of annoyance value.”

  Throw a few fireballs around and people get so paranoid.

  “On the bright side,” Ms. Griffin said, “you won’t be out of place among the others.”

  “Yeah, welcome to the freak show,” I muttered.

  Ms. Griffin stopped me, gripping my arm like a tourniquet. “Is that what you think you are? What we are?”

  Startled, I answered without evasion. “Absolutely. If I were normal, I wouldn’t be here. You’d have no use for me.” And my family wouldn’t be on the verge of falling apart. It’s my fault. If I were human…

  I don’t know how much of my pain showed, but her gaze and her grip softened once more. For a split second, I’d wondered if she’d hit me. She did something worse—she hugged me. My sorrow escaped, as the protective barriers of my heart cascaded like a house of cards coming down. Tears brimmed in my eyes. My nose got stuffy. “Damn it! See what you made me do?”

  She pulled back, smiled, and brushed a stray tear from my cheek. “Women cry, sometimes even tough-guy security chiefs,” she glanced at Hammer who pointedly looked elsewhere.

  “I do my crying inside,” he said. “Keeps my gun from rusting.”

  Ms. Griffin pointed me toward a restroom that had both male and female symbols on the door. “Why don’t you go fix your face? I’ll meet you back here in a few minutes.” She headed off, vanishing through double doors.

  I went to the restroom door.

  “You guys go up without me,” Hammer said. “I’ve got some things to look into.”

  I smiled, calling over my shoulder, “Good, I’ll want a full report tomorrow.” Turning back to the door, I noticed it was cracked open, closing as I reached out for the handle. I thought of yelling for backup, but if there wasn’t a good reason, I’d look pretty stupid. I went in and stopped, letting the door close right behind me. Closed stalls, trash cans, sinks, mirrors—and an audience—awaited me. They were close to my age, two boys and three girls.

  One of the boys, a redhead with freckles, wore jeans and a pullover sweater on top of a polo shirt. His sneakers were a bleached white that nearly glowed. “I’m disappointed,” he said. “I expected … more.”

  He was nudged by the guy next to him, a hot blond with cobalt eyes, a killer smile, cargo pants, and a long-sleeved shirt with an anime character on it—some big-muscled dude with the mother of all swords. He said, “Chill, Ryan. Dust off your manners before she singes your tail.”

  A girl with long, straight, raven tresses glowered my way. Expensive silver earrings jiggled, as she crossed her arms, a fashion victim of Goths Я Us. Even her lipstick was black, kinda matching her purple eyeliner. “I still say that video footage is fake. The police reports said there wasn’t a thing burned in that store.”

  Goth Girl stirred up an instinctive dislike, but she was right; my fire did burn cold; nothing natural about it.

  Under all the curious stares, I felt my face heating. I pushed to the sink, dislodging the two girls who had yet to speak. “Excuse me.” I turned on the water and splashed my face. A girl with short, feathery pink hair handed me some paper towels as I shut off the water.

  “Don’t mind Ryan and Elita. We’re glad you’re here. A new face is welcome. I’m Drew.” She grabbed the girl next to her by the arm. “This is Jill. They’ll probably put you in our suite, with one of us.”

  I nodded. “Hi.”

  Blond Guy came closer. “I’m Gary.”

  His scent was intoxicating. I found myself breathing deeper. My heart raced as I forced out words, “A pleasure.” New friends already; maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad.

  “So what’s up,” Drew asked. “Are you really a fire starter?”

  “Not the way you’re thinking.” That secret was already out—no need to deny it. I held out my hand, palm up, crumpled towel in plain sight. After a moment’s concentration, orange flames leaped up.

  Ryan stared at the curling red flames on my palm, stepping toward me with a dazed expression.

  Elita stopped him with an arm across his chest, while scowling at me.

  I tossed the flaming wad in a high lob so it dropped toward her head.

  She squealed and stumbled back.

  The flames died in the air. The wad hit the floor. Gary picked it up, examining it closely. “Nothing singed. Not even hot. Actually, a little cold.” He tossed the wad into a trash can, and smiled at me. “Nice trick.”

  Drew was round-eyed, mouth hanging open. “Wow, so cool!”

  Jill sniffed. “Nothing a stage magician couldn’t do.”

  “Point is,” Gary said, “she’s not a magician. Something else is at work here.”

  “Well, I suppose you fit in after all.” Elita grabbed Ryan’s hand and dragged him past me. “Just stay out of my way.” They left the restroom.

  Gary followed, pausing by me a moment. “Anything you need, just ask.”

  I nodded, my tongue strangely thick and heavy in my mouth. Things I should have said circled in my brain, fading as the door closed on him.

  Jill smiled in sympathy. “He has that effect on all of us. I think it’s pheromonal.”

  “Come on,” Drew too
k my arm. “There’s so much to show you.”

  Ms. Griffin didn’t seem surprised by my sudden escort. I guess the others leaving first tipped her off.

  “I see you’ve met the Breakfast Club,” she said.

  “We share a table for breakfast,” Jill explained. “You’ll find most of the others here are lone wolf anti-socials.”

  Ms. Griffin herded us into an elevator and pressed for the tenth floor. The door slid shut and the car lurched into motion. “Sometimes, the gifted come to us having been handled somewhat roughly by the world.”

  Drew translated, “They got issues for a reason.”

  I felt growing curiosity about my companions, but didn’t want to be rude. Drew seemed a little less prickly than Jill so I caught her eye. “If you don’t mind me asking…”

  “You want to know what kind of gifts we have?” Drew asked.

  Jill chimed in, “That’s only fair. We got the scoop on you already.”

  Barely scratched my surface, but believe what you want.

  Drew said, “I’m a dowser. I find things that are lost; car keys, stolen paintings, people… Comes from my Grandpappy. He made millions in the Texas oilfields, finding drilling sites.” She grinned. “People claimed he had oil for blood.”

  “I’m a little less … colorful,” Jill said. “My mom’s a federal judge. I’ve spent some time in court getting what she calls an education in the human condition. You see, I can tell. Always. No one can lie to me. Sometimes Homeland Security has me listen in while they question suspects.”

  “She actually caught a home-grown terrorist once,” Drew said. “Don’t let her go all modest on you.”

  The elevator opened and disgorged us into a lounge. There were a few snack machines, soda machines, a table hockey game waiting for players, and a plasma TV which mesmerized a bunch of guys with a football game. Surveillance cameras were wall-mounted here too.

  A guy came out of a side passageway, passing us without a word. He went to a soda machine and acquired two cans without having to put any money in. Tall and rangy, dark and lean, there was something primal about him, something bestial just submerged. His scent raised my hackles. Coming back, his amber eyes flicked my way. He handed me a soda. “Here.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Anyone bothers you, tell me.” His eyes went a little more yellow. His smile revealed very white teeth with pronounced canines. “They’ll stop.”

  I nodded.

  He continued on his way.

  I realized I was holding my breath, and let it out slowly. “Who the hell is that?”

  s. Griffin peered after the guy, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Fenton Drake, borderline sociopath. His senses are abnormally heightened. He’s a walking CSI lab. A certain covert government agency borrows him occasionally.”

  “And he’s about as friendly as a two-by-four.” Drew gave me a speculative glance. “He must really like you. I was here a year before I even got a word from him, let alone a soda.”

  Ms. Griffin’s eyes were on me, bright with interest. “Maybe he likes your smell.”

  “What’s not to like? I bathe regularly.”

  “Jill will be glad to hear it,” Ms. Griffin said. “You’ll be sharing a room with her. Come on, the ladies’ wing is this way. Tomorrow will be soon enough to get into the things we do here, and what we’ll be expecting from you.”

  I yawned. “Can’t wait.” We went past the vending machines to a second hall. As we passed various suites, the cameras continued their scrutiny. I pointed at one of them. “You got those things in our rooms too?”

  Ms. Griffin looked shocked. “Heavens, no. That would be an unethical invasion of your privacy. The cameras are in public areas for your protection, Grace. I think you know just how far some people will go to acquire unique human resources.”

  She had a point.

  “Something happened?” Jill looked at me sharply. “Now that I think about it, you had been crying when you came into the restroom downstairs.”

  “Nothing to worry about.” Ms. Griffin stopped us at a suite door that had Jill and Drew’s names on it. “Security is on it. The incident won’t be allowed to repeat.”

  “Sounds like a story I want to hear,” Drew said.

  “Later,” Jill said. “She probably needs some rest and time alone to settle in.”

  “Killjoy,” Drew muttered.

  We went into a lavatory area that acted as a hub area. Drew pointed at the right door. “That’s the bathroom.” She swung her finger to the middle door across from the hall door. “That’s my room. Feel free to drop in any time. See you in the morning.” She opened her door and went in, closing it softly behind her.

  Jill went to the left door across from the bathroom, opening it. “This is our room. Come in and make yourself at home.”

  And just like that, it came to light—that little nagging worry that had been gnawing on my subconscious since meeting Elita. I summoned two memories for a side-by-side comparison. Ah, hah! Elita’s designer earrings are identical to those wore by the lady who tried to abduct me. Elita was the insider who’d leaked my arrival. Goth Girl, you and I are going to have ourselves a little heart to heart. My hands rolled into fists. I made them relax. Very soon.

  THREE

  I scanned my new room, absorbing its unexpected spaciousness, a perception enhanced by a far wall of windows. The wall behind me contained two large closets, one open and empty, the other closed. Twin beds, nightstands, dressers, and desks fit easily. Most of the wood looked like golden oak, same shade as the curtains.

  “It’s so big!” I muttered.

  “The corporate VIPs want to keep us happy,” Jill said.

  She’d already taken the left half of the room. Her desk boasted a very expensive gaming computer that came with wrap-around speakers built into a sci-fi looking chair. One arm of the chair had buttons and a game-stick. The whole arrangement looked like it had been hi-jacked off a NASA shuttle. Jill saw me staring and said, “I trouble shoot software code for the gaming industry, sometimes even the military. I have degrees in both cybernetic and network forensics.”

  Wow, a brainiac.

  She sat on her bed and sprawled back as if to hide her Power Puff Girls bedspread. I wasn’t hooked on multi-colored, big-eyed, super-powered kids saving the world before bedtime, but I wasn’t going to tease her about it.

  My own bed had a simple beige blanket thrown over ivory sheets, and a couple fluffy pillows in matching pillowcases. The walls on my side of the room were bare. Jill had boy band posters up, and one with the Statue of Liberty superimposed over an American flag. The tarnished copper made the statue look sea sick.

  Until my luggage got here, I couldn’t do much more than sit on my bed, cradling the soda in both hands. Orange soda. Not diet. I smiled. At least Fenton hadn’t implied I needed to lose weight. What was it about him that scared me?

  “You going to drink that?” Jill asked.

  “You want it?” I held out the can.

  “Well, if you’re going to insist so stridently…” She bounced off her bed, crossed to mine, and took the can.

  “Is Fenton as dangerous as he feels?” I asked.

  Jill shrugged. “Fenn? He never picks a fight, but doesn’t back down either. He’s like a friend you don’t turn your back on.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  She went back to her bed, tucking her feet under her. “You asked.”

  A knock shook the door.

  “Come in,” Jill called between gulps.

  The door swung open. A dark suit walked in, dragging my luggage behind him on a dolly. “Find any contraband?” I asked.

  “If we had, Hammer would be here, not me.” He swung the dolly around, unloaded my stuff, and gave us a casual salute. “You ladies have a good night.”

  I threw the largest suitcase on my bed and opened it. Everything looked as carefully and neatly packed as when I’d done it myself. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have sa
id no one had looked at my stuff. These security guys were scary good. I’d have to remember that.

  Jill came up behind me, peering over my shoulder. “Have any good stuff I might want to borrow?”

  A hoard of chocolate bars came to light as I lifted out a stack of tee shirts.

  “My Gawd,” Jill said, “like chocolate much?”

  I couldn’t tell her it wasn’t for me, that I used the stuff to buy protection in the shadow realm. I smiled. “Too much?”

  “Not if you’re trying for a diabetic coma.”

  I shrugged and concentrated on putting everything away. Clothes went in the closet and dresser, chocolate in a desk drawer, my alarm on the nightstand. Jill poked through my stuff as I went here and there. At one point, she lifted a muffler long enough to wrap my head several times and hang front and back to my knees. “A gift from Dr. Who?” she asked.

  I stared at her blankly.

  She said, “Only the greatest sci-fi series ever.”

  I opened a suitcase and dragged out stacks of paperbacks, the best of my collection. The Little Prince, The Marble Faun, Enchantress from the Stars, The Complete Works of Emily Dickenson, Louis L’Amour’s Heller with a Gun... I’m nothing if not eclectic. I piled them on the desk, along with my CDs and CD player, and Ipod.

  Jill picked up a couple hardbacks from my open suitcase. “How to Write the Kick-Ass Novel, Writer’s Market? Don’t tell me, you have literary aspirations?”

  I gave her my say-something-funny-and-I’ll-hurt-you glare.

  She put the books down, carefully, and backed away, hands in the air like someone surrendering to the police.

  My purse went into an empty backpack which went into the closet. More books went on my dresser top. Finishing up, I tossed a stuffed, blue bulldog on the bed. It reminded me of a close friend. I kicked off my shoes and put my socks in them. Mental note: buy a laundry hamper. I took a towel, night shirt, fuzzy slippers, and went to the bathroom. Locked in, I started the shower, stripping as the air went warm and steamy.

  I carefully removed the gold locket my grandmother had given me before she died. Heart-shaped it glistened in my palm. I split it open along one edge. Inside lay a photo of her from the good years, before arthritis, and a half dozen other ailments put her in a retirement home with a caregiver taking the place of family that lived too far away to be helpful. I’d spent a few lazy summers out in California on her horse ranch before she’d had to sell it. Seeing her smiling photo, I felt for a moment the warm love that had always radiated from her.