by Jamie Wyman
“With all due respect, Jim—”
“Mr. Barrows, man, I work for a living. And I’m here on a goddamn Sunday.”
A sigh. “Mr. Barrows, your client is our prime suspect in a gruesome murder. He waived his right to remain silent. According to Officer Weaver, this bastard wouldn’t shut up in the car the whole way here.”
Marius chimed in, “Which one is Officer Weaver? The one with the nice rack beneath all that Kevlar or…you know, that other one?”
Another sigh, this one heavy with annoyance. Yeah. Marius had that effect on people. Their argument plodded on. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against Marius’s knees.
Please, whatever gods there are, just get me the fuck out of here. Just get me out of this.
Marius’s legs moved up and down slowly, one leg hooking around my waist. I elbowed his thigh, and heard him grunt from above the table.
“All I’m saying is that we need to process this guy.”
“And I’m saying,” Barrows’s cool, familiar voice snapped, “that I need time with my client.”
The air split with a high-pitched wail from down the hall. The metal detector shrieked, and voices shouted, “Gun!” A whooping sound tore through the air and lights began to flash in the interrogation room. In the halls, the fire alarms went berserk.
Steel rasped out of metal as the detectives drew their weapons, and their feet scrambled out of the room. Marius’s legs fell out from behind me as the chair skidded noisily across the floor. I twisted and stopped myself from falling, palms to the floor. Marius sat in his chair, staring down at me with amusement.
Like some timid groundhog, I poked my head out from beneath the table, emerging between his legs and looking for my shadow.
“Well, Catherine,” Marius purred. “I must say that you look rather fetching. We must get you on your knees more often, I think.”
I socked him in the stomach and pushed up to my feet.
“Miss Sharp!” a voice barked.
I jumped, gasping. I forgot about the third pair of feet in the room. They hadn’t left. I whirled around to face the owner of those well-polished shoes. A giant of a man with frosty-white hair wore a gray suit worth more than Flynn’s car. His face was drawn with displeasure.
I narrowed my eyes. I did know the voice—cold, stinging, yet light with mercurial laughter—but it came from the wrong body.
The giant dipped his chin, gas-flame stare eyeing me over his rimless glasses. A chill skittered over the brand on my arm. “Loki?” I breathed.
The corner of his mouth spread into a wicked grin over yellowing teeth. “Glad to see we understand one another. Now, please, enlighten me as to how you came here when I clearly ordered you elsewhere.”
“She didn’t come here,” Marius said with a wink. “But there’s always time.”
“Shut up,” Loki snapped. He didn’t bother to waste a glance at Marius but kept those glacial eyes on me. “Why are you here, Cat?”
Gunshots fired down the hall, three quick blasts that rattled my bones. I tasted the ozone tang of adrenaline at the back of my mouth as I jerked my head toward the door. Uniformed officers blurred past, weapons trained to the floor, and badges shining like justice.
“Cat!”
I whipped my attention back to Loki. “Found him,” I said. I quickly explained how I’d been with Nate, trying to find Muriel’s killer, when Polly turned up dead, too. “We found Marius over her body and trying to steal something.”
“Snitch,” I heard the satyr mutter.
“Someone’s killed a Muse now, too?” Loki asked. “Do you think the two are connected?”
My mind spun, images flashing behind my eyes. Metal globs spearing through tender flesh. Angry, rheumy eyes. A broken rib cage. Skin savagely ripped apart. A torn throat. Over the wailing alarms, Polyhymnia’s last, choking syllables rang in my ears.
“Yes. Muriel was involved in this veil business, also. I don’t know how she fits into it all yet, but she does.” I swatted at Marius. “Him, too. Unfortunately.”
“Get back to the brother,” Loki ordered from behind his Mr. Barrows mask. “I told you to stay with him. Do not abandon him again. And you,” he said, turning his full attention to Marius, “get out of my city.”
“Of course,” Marius drawled. “As soon as I wade through the mob of officers, get past whomever they’re shooting at, fulfill my mistress’s task, and finish my business with Catherine, here, I’ll be happy to do just that.”
“We have no business,” I snapped.
“You. Owe me. A date.”
“I don’t owe you shit!”
“Shut up, both of you,” Loki said. Arctic wind blew a simple but potent warning over my brand.
Marius raised his bound wrists. “Would you please, Catherine?”
“I can’t unlock those,” I said, giving the zip ties a tug. “They aren’t a machine.”
“Useless.” He rolled his eyes and turned to Loki. “If you’d be so kind.”
My boss eyed the satyr’s bonds lazily. “I wouldn’t.”
More chaos erupted down the hall from the interrogation room, and I jumped at the sound.
Loki didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. “I’ve taken care of the front door,” he said.
“That’s you?”
“Diversion. Go out the side entrance. Get back to Nathaniel, and do not leave his side, Cat. I am not the only one growing impatient with you.”
I gulped down actual fear at the thought that Nate’s father—whoever he was—might take further interest in me.
Loki stalked out the door, his illusion rippling with every step. The gray suit darkened to a silky black, the color of a raven’s feathers. The frosty hair warmed with golden sunshine. Blink. A brick of a man wearing riot gear, head protected by a gleaming black helmet, was now in front of me. He grabbed at the radio on his shoulder and barked orders into it. “I want every last man and woman we have in this station up at that entrance, do you hear me?”
I snatched at the zip tie binding Marius and yanked him along behind me. Everyone rushed to my right—toward the entryway and the skirmish there—so I spun to the left and ran. Lights flashed as the fire alarms whooped. Ahead of me a red sign glowed with the most glorious four letters I’d ever seen: “EXIT.”
I dragged Marius across the hall and shoved through the door. Cool night air rushed over us, and I drew a deep breath. It felt like surfacing after a deep dive. Outside, though, was not much calmer than indoors. Sirens wailed and tires screeched as squad cars slid to block off the intersection. A mass of civilians milled about on the sidewalk as uniformed cops formed a line to keep them from the building. I searched for blue hair, for some tall ginger towering over the lot, but found no signs of Karma or Flynn.
“Come on,” I said. I darted for the throng of people and tried to blend in. Quickly, I jostled through the crowd, apologizing as I stepped on toes and thrust my elbows into fleshy sides. Every cell in my body screamed that we needed to run, but logic said that would draw unwanted attention. I settled on something in between, a sort of skippy gallop. I laced my fingers through Marius’s trying to conceal the fact that he was cuffed. Loki’s illusions might be enough to take care of the officers on the inside, but I needed to stay sharp out here.
You’re not free yet, I warned myself.
“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” Marius growled.
“Yup. We’ve got a ride.”
Guiding him toward Flynn’s parked car, I chanced a look at the building. Through the silhouettes of people and smoky windows I could see movement in the lobby. Shapes writhed like Hell’s own kaleidoscope. An arm thrust out over the crowd. People screamed and more shots rang out in the night.
Go! Loki’s voice yelled in my head.
That lit a fire under my ass. I didn’t hesitate. With Marius in tow I bolted down the sidewalk as fast as I could. As I passed the westernmost edge of the station’s parking lot, leaves and bushes rustled to my right.
Pale blue curls popped up in my peripheral vision, and a series of footfalls joined the rhythm of escape. I threw a glance over my shoulder to see Karma and Flynn with Nate between them. Something in me relaxed seeing that they’d gotten him.
Almost there, I urged myself.
As Flynn’s car came into view, I ran ahead. “I’ll drive. Everyone just get in.”
As soon as my hands touched the hood, the locks popped open and the engine roared to life. Bodies piled in. Doors slammed. I laid into the accelerator and hauled ass out of the lot, whipping to my right to head up Sierra Vista.
In my rearview, blood-red and corpse-blue lights painted the night as they formed a roadblock. About a quarter mile ahead, the light at Paradise had just turned red.
“Can someone get the light for me?” I called to the backseat.
“On it!” Flynn said.
The hairs on my arms stood up, flesh going prickly, as Flynn’s power reached past me and shot through the air. Red became green just as I whipped right around the corner.
“Where are you going?” Karma asked.
“The Strip. We can get lost there if we need to, then meet up somewhere neutral. Were you guys followed?”
“I don’t think so,” Karma said. “After Flynn set off the alarms, all hell broke loose.”
“You set off the alarms?”
Flynn nodded in the rearview. “Just as a diversion. Then the shooting started. No clue what that was all about.”
I bit my lip, hesitant. Should I tell them about Loki’s involvement? That his illusions had been responsible for the firestorm that covered our escape? No, a voice in my head decided. They’ve got their secrets. You’re allowed to have yours.
“Catherine!” Marius called.
I blinked. The light at Desert Inn Road went red just before I careened through the intersection.
“Shit! Hang on!” I yelled.
I stomped on the brakes, throwing my right arm out across Marius’s chest. Tires screamed, and horns blared in a dissonant chord of tension and warning. We almost made it.
With a jarring cacophony, metal crumpled against metal as another car collided with ours. We spun around, the world a blur of dancing lights and spots of darkness. My ass came up out of the seat, pulled forward by forces beyond my control.
The one time I didn’t wear a seat belt…
This was going to hurt.
Chapter Eighteen
“Spiral Static”
Hands clamped down on my shoulders, hard as iron and hot as a brand. My peripheral vision filled with a golden glow. Those impossibly strong hands held me to the seat as the car flattened into a horizontal skid. My rearview mirror filled with the purest of lights, and I squinted against the brightness.
“Cat!” Flynn yelled from the backseat.
The car slammed to a halt, and I jerked to the side and smacked into Marius.
“Look out!”
Eyes wide open, I saw a nude Freddy Krueger impersonator diving for the car. He landed on the hood in a crouch and leered into the windshield. I recognized him, but only just. His pink and ropy flesh was a web of white scars; stains and smears of ruined tattoos covered his bald head.
“Hail Belial!” the pyromancer howled. He raised a fist wreathed in flame and brought it down onto the hood of Flynn’s car.
I blinked, and then I was running off the street and into a dark parking lot without any memory of how I’d gotten there. Ahead of me, Karma’s blue curls bounced in time with her footfalls. Nate pumped his arms and legs to stay by her side.
Flynn. Marius. Where are you?
I stopped and looked back. Flynn rocketed past me, tattoos glowing with his amber power. “Go, Cat! Come on!”
Beyond him, Marius tussled with the mage. Though his hands were still bound at the wrist, Marius now brandished the sleek saber I remembered all too well. The last time I saw it, the point kissed my stomach. Firelight glistened and licked up the gentle curve of the steel.
Flames caressed Baldy’s hands like gloves as he reached out to catch Marius’s saber. “I fear no blade!” the mage roared. “I will unmake any sword!”
“Not this one,” Marius growled. He swiped downward, and both the pyromancer’s hands fell to the asphalt. Marius kicked out, catching the screaming mage in the hip and sending him flying out of the way. The satyr wasted no time. The sword disappeared into the ether, and Marius charged me.
“Don’t just stand there, Catherine,” he said blithely. “Run for your life!”
The others raced far ahead of us. Beside me, Marius’s superhuman constitution allowed him to run with incredible speed. Determined to keep up, I tapped into every ounce of strength I possessed and sprinted as fast as my legs would allow.
We wove through smatterings of cars in parking lots, past cheap hotels and panicking traffic. I followed Marius as he darted out to cross a side street. Headlights flared to my right, and a horn blared. I spun, arms pinwheeling through the air to steady myself as I went down. Asphalt dug into my palms, tore through my jeans and even the thin skin at my knees. The car screeched to a halt, but I was already pulling myself up from the ground. The driver’s angry epithets blended in with the aural chaos behind me. I focused only on what lay ahead. I had to catch up. Had to make it to my friends. To Nate. I had a job to do.
I ran as hard as I could, but without special implants like Karma or a superhuman heritage like Nate or Marius, I dragged behind. The gap between us grew as my muscles seized. Every ragged breath I drew burned through my throat.
I’m not going to make it.
I pressed on, pushing my body beyond its limits. My road rash stung and throbbed with my racing pulse, my lungs burning to cinders within my chest. I tried to call out, but I didn’t have the air. Couldn’t waste the energy.
Ahead of me, everyone else had crossed another side street. We were just a block east of the Strip. Coming up on the rear of the twin monoliths of the Wynn and Encore hotels, I witnessed the dazzling sight of Las Vegas Boulevard. Wynn and Encore rose into the night before us, glistening bright as polished gold. Those sleek surfaces sparkled with myriad points of light from traffic, other hotels, and the countless neon signs boasting all that the Strip had to offer.
For a moment, I found myself caught up in the allure of it all. The power there, the spectacular wellspring of computers, phones, machines, and the dance of electrons and energy. The golden hum of Las Vegas called to my blood, and I longed to join that glorious song. If I could tap into it…
“The church!” I heard Nate bellow. “Head for the church!”
Those words yanked me away from the pool of energy that made the Strip and back into the cold shadow of the side street. Even a few hundred yards off the boulevard, this little pocket of Vegas remained untouched, a murky black hole.
I blinked dully. What church?
Like a flock of birds, the group arced to the right into an empty lot. They aimed for a squat building that was dwarfed by the casinos surrounding it. The church’s roof formed a sharp, severe point of defiance in the shadow of Sin City. Lit by several floodlights, a blank triangle served as the church face. A spire rose from the ground, topped with a luminous cross, as if trying to ward off all the surrounding decadence.
Movement caught my eye as I ran toward the others. The twisting, aching pains shooting through my body sizzled a warning: if I went down again I would not be getting up. I shot a wary glance to my right expecting to see another car barreling down on me. Or the pyromancer.
Neither. Instead, a heavy shape darted in front of a pair of oncoming high beams. More crunching metal and screeching, and those headlights came to a halt. I couldn’t make out the details, but I was fairly certain the massive silhouette had caused an accident.
I kept running, feet slapping against the hard ground. The church grew taller in my vision, and Nate, Flynn, and Karma disappeared around the sharp corner of the building.
So close. Almost there.
To my right, the darkness blur
red. I whipped my head around to look, and a scream caught in my chest. Brown, leathery skin. The flash of light on slick horns. Red eyes. Claws like something out of the Jurassic period.
Oh dear gods…
“Cat!” Flynn darted toward me, limbs glowing orange. “Come on!” He took my hand, and power flowed into me with a high whine. Energy surged into my weakening muscles, into my blood. My lungs expanded as I drew in a gulp of cold air. Fueled by Flynn’s magic, I ran pell-mell to the cross.
Nate held open the doors of the church. “Come on!” he called.
I dared to toss a panicked glance behind me. Though the thing wasn’t there, I felt those claws reaching out into the night, razors brushing against the backs of my legs, and fetid breath lifting on the hairs on my neck. Did I hear it grunting, an eager and wet gurgle? The chill in my blood and eons of genetic memory screamed that I was this thing’s prey.
The predator approached.
With a yell of exertion, Flynn shoved past Nate and yanked me into the sanctuary of the church. I crumpled to my scraped knees, breathless and trembling. The doors slammed shut behind me.
Chapter Nineteen
“The Small Print”
Despite Flynn’s infusion of power, I lay curled up on the tile floor, little more than a puddle of limp muscles, sweaty skin, and exhaustion. My eyes closed, all I could see was flickering red and black. Fireworks for pain, shooting stars for each labored breath. As I calmed down, the colors slowed, swirling in psychedelic lava-lamp patterns. The thunder in my ears receded as my pulse slowed to something closer to the speed limit.
“I’m sorry,” a thin, quaking voice said. “The church is closed. We’ll open again in the morning.”
“Father,” Nate said. His voice trailed into murmurs as he walked deeper into the church, presumably to meet the priest halfway.
Karma stared at me, concern and anger warring on her fine features. She turned away. Though he said nothing, Marius tracked her with his eyes.
“Cat,” Flynn said at my ear, “are you all right?” He was squatting at my side, his hand a warm weight on my spine. As his power seeped back into its reservoir, the amber sheen left his tattoos. Flynn’s eyes, though, still glowed orange.