Chaos Bites

by Lori Handeland

  Since I’d never considered my psychometric talent a form of magic—I’d been born with the talent; being psychic was part of me, not something I’d earned or taken or learned—I voted for the latter.

  Mait snatched my wrist. “How did you get past de protection spell?”

  I smiled despite the pain of his fingers crunching my bones. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Tell me now.”

  Son of a bitch. I needed to ramp up the seduction. At this rate, Mait was going to know Jimmy was coming long before he arrived. I had maybe ten minutes to make Mait see, hear, and breathe nothing but me.

  I tugged on my wrist and he let go, though he stayed close enough to grab me again if he needed to. I slid my fingers into my front pocket, pushing my chest out in the process.

  The shirt had begun to dry in the heat, the salt from my skin causing the material to stiffen. When it rubbed against my nipples so did they.

  “Mmm,” I murmured, and wiggled so the shirt shimmied some more. “I’ve got a little—”

  With difficulty he pulled his eyes from my chest and lowered them. Every one of my fingers was outlined inside of the faded denim pocket of my too-tight jeans. All of them pointed toward my crotch. Mait licked his lips, and I stifled a smile. This wasn’t so hard.

  I pulled my hand out just as slowly as I’d put it in. “Gris-gris,” I said, and held up the bag.

  He snatched at it, but I’d been expecting that and put my hands behind my back. He got very interested in my boobs again. He hadn’t had any in a very long time.

  “Ah-ah,” I singsonged. “No magic but what we make, okay?”

  Sheesh, had I actually said that?

  “Okay,” he echoed, and I knew I had him.

  How the guy could think the woman he’d met first as a phoenix and the woman I pretended to be now were one and the same without a complete personality transplant was a mystery. Then again, considering that all the blood in his head was now in his pants, maybe not such a mystery after all.

  Why anyone believed it was a good idea to lock up people all alone yet expect them to be incorruptible, I hadn’t a clue. Either the person would go stark raving mad or, if we were talking about a guy, he’d be easily compromised by a pair of great breasts in a thin white tank top.

  A flash of movement caught my attention. Jimmy! Luckily Mait had his back to the room and his nose practically buried in my breasts.

  “You can touch them if you like,” I whispered.

  He dived. His hands crushed; his mouth suckled. I used his inattention to shove the gris-gris into my front pocket.

  I must have made all the right noises, all the right moves, because Mait never hesitated in his adoration of my breasts. I retreated to my special place, one I’d fashioned when I was young and there’d been times I’d had to check out or lose my mind.

  I’d learned I couldn’t check out completely. Monsters—be they half demon or entirely human—liked to get some response. If they didn’t, they only tried harder and kept at it longer.

  Mait began to slide his erection against the skin-tight crotch of my jeans. I gasped at the sudden rush of nausea. But I’d had practice; I could make the gasp sound like anything. My head fell back as if I were in the throes of passion, when in truth I couldn’t bear to see his face.

  Mait’s hands left my chest and grabbed my ass, lifting me onto his thigh. He held me there as he rocked his leg to the rhythm of his mouth at my breast. Jimmy’d better hurry up or I might nail this guy one way before he nailed me in another.

  My jeans vibrated. Mait lifted his head. His mouth was wet, his eyes slightly unfocused, their brilliant green exquisite against the mocha of his skin.

  “What is that?” he murmured.

  “Oh.” I smiled, though the expression felt as if it would crack my frozen face. “Cell phone.” The prearranged signal. Jimmy had the book. Time for me to end this guy and run. “I’ll turn it off.”

  Slipping my fingers into my pocket, I clicked the off button. When I brought them back out, I held the dagger just out of sight.

  “Would you like to come in?” Mait asked.

  “Definitely.”

  Better to kill him out of sight than right in the doorway. The longer the Nephilim remained unaware that we had their book, the better.

  Mait flexed the muscles in his thigh. They rolled against my clitoris. My stomach clenched so hard I nearly doubled over. I’d thought I might have a problem sticking him in the eye with the dagger. I didn’t think so anymore.

  I climbed off his leg, glanced toward the church, and saw Jimmy through one of the holes in the crumbling walls. So did Mait.

  “Who de hell are you?” he demanded. Then his eyes narrowed, and he roared, “Sanducci!”

  Mait started forward. I brought the knife up toward his nearest eye. I might have made it if I hadn’t at the same moment registered what Jimmy was doing.

  Burning the Book of Samyaza.

  The realization caused me to hesitate, and that hesitation cost me. As Jimmy had said, Mait was a big guy and he fought dirty. He didn’t even look in my direction as he backhanded me across the cheekbone. Pain exploded. It felt as if he’d just poked out my eye.

  I stumbled, disoriented, and he spun, catching me in the chest with his bare foot. I flew into the doorjamb. The force snapped my head against the corner and down I went. I didn’t get back up.

  “What have you done?” Mait shouted.

  “It’s obvious,” I mumbled as the whole world spun. “Bastard burned the book.”

  I should have seen it coming. Would have if I’d trusted Sanducci less and touched him with the intent of picking his brain a little more. That’s what I got for being polite.

  Dizziness washed over me, and I thought I might pass out. I wanted to. Then I wouldn’t have to think about what Jimmy had just done.

  Destroyed the only hope I had of getting Sawyer back alive.

  CHAPTER 30

  I was supposed to have a dagger in my hand, but I didn’t. I glanced around; I couldn’t see it anywhere. Checked my back pockets. Nothing. Front pockets. Nothing.

  Huh.

  Spots flickered in front of my eyes. White. Black. Red. They chased one another like amoebas across a microscope slide. Watching them only made me dizzier, so I turned my attention to Mait just as he let out a furious shout and sprinted for Jimmy.

  “No,” I whispered. I didn’t seem to have any volume to my voice or strength in my limbs. I’d been hit harder than this before. What was wrong with me?

  The two men came together like deer during rut. Though they didn’t butt racks, they did slam chests, then they wrapped their arms around each other and grappled.

  Mait was a hair taller, a tad wider, and while he might be strong and fight dirty, Jimmy fought dirtier and had been doing so since he was very young. Mait, on the other hand, had been relying on magic for too long. It showed.

  Jimmy wrestled him to the ground and attempted to get his arm around Mait’s neck. Not that it would do much good. Jimmy had no weapon, or at least none that would work.

  “Lizzy!” Jimmy shouted. “The dagger!”

  I shook my head hard enough to rattle my brains some more. The pain sobered me, and I began to crawl, first looking then feeling for the missing knife. I couldn’t find it.

  “Lizzy!”

  It was hard to tell who was winning; they looked like a double man pretzel, all wound together, fingers searching for a better hold, arms bulging, legs flailing.

  “It’s gone,” I said.

  Jimmy flicked me a glance, and Mait slammed his elbow into his nose. The crunch echoed throughout the abandoned church. Blood spouted; Jimmy lost his grip. Mait leaped to his feet and ran.

  Making a grab for him, I wound up on my face in the dirt. I slapped my palm to the phoenix tattoo. If I could shift, I’d heal, and then I’d catch him. Wouldn’t be any trouble at all.

  Except the gris-gris still blocked my magic.

  “Damn,” I mutte
red. I pulled the thing out of my pocket, then threw it as far as I could.

  Jimmy cursed and bled. I crept over to him and felt his pockets until I found his gris-gris, then I tossed that away, too.

  I began to lift my hand again, but Jimmy grabbed it before I got there. “Don’t bother,” he said, his voice thick with pain and blood.

  “I can catch him.”

  He shook his head then, cursing, winced. “The instant he got far enough from the gris-gris, his magic came back.” He pulled himself to his feet then helped me to mine. I managed not to fall back down. “He’s long gone.”

  “I thought he was confined.”

  “To protect the book.” Jimmy met my eyes.

  “But you burned it, and released him.” I couldn’t help it, I slapped Jimmy across his bloody face. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  The slap resounded in the sudden silence that followed. The imprint of my fingers appeared, dark splotches on his already dark and splotched skin. I hated the sight; nevertheless, I wanted to hit him again.

  “I was thinking,” Jimmy said slowly, “that the book was trouble. Nothing good could come from it.” His gaze bored into mine. “Nothing, Lizzy.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that.

  “You insisted that we push our vampires beneath the moon so we wouldn’t be tempted to steal the Book of Samyaza. But we could have used those demons, or at least one of them, to end Mait.”

  “I’ll end Mait. Don’t worry about that.”

  “Yeah, you’ve been having great luck so far,” I muttered, earning an exasperated glare from Sanducci. “If you were going to burn the damn thing anyway, what was the point of the full moon evil spell?”

  “We aren’t the only problem. Anyone who has that book is dangerous. Anyone could be tempted by the secrets inside it.” He took a deep breath and then finished, “You were.”

  An icy breeze seemed to stir the wings of my phoenix tattoo. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m not stupid, Lizzy.”

  “So you say.”

  His lips tightened. I couldn’t blame him. “Do you remember when your mother was raising revenants?”

  I blinked at the seemingly random change in subject. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna forget Mommy or her army of the undead.”

  “They were an Apocalyptic portent.”

  “And now they’re dust.”

  “Which leaves plenty of room for the next undead army.”

  “There’s more than one?”

  “Without a phoenix to raise revenants—”

  “I’m a phoenix.”

  “You plan on raising some?”

  “Hell no!”

  The dead my mother had raised, while looking completely human, had not acted human. They’d totally given me the creeps.

  “Besides,” I admitted. “I don’t really know how.”

  “I don’t think it’s brain surgery.”

  “No,” I murmured. “I don’t think so, either.”

  Jimmy’s eyes widened. “You tried it!”

  I had. “Don’t get all bent out of shape, nothing happened.”

  “Lizzy.” Jimmy let out a long breath and rubbed his eyes as if they ached. “What were you thinking?”

  In the days following Sawyer’s death I hadn’t been thinking about much but getting him back. I’d tried everything I knew. But I hadn’t known how to raise a revenant, so I did a little research.

  “The power isn’t active until I’ve been raised from the grave like she was,” I said. “And I’m not planning on dying anytime soon.”

  Jimmy lowered his hand and his gaze met mine. He was disappointed in me, but that was nothing new.

  “Without a phoenix to raise revenants,” he repeated, “the forces of darkness are going to have to find another way. According to the rumors, the way was written in that book.”

  I stared at him for several seconds. “You knew all along why I wanted it?”

  “You can’t raise the dead. You’ll be playing right into their hands. It’s better that the Book of Samyaza is ashes.”

  “I wasn’t going to raise an army, Jimmy. Just—” My throat closed off; I couldn’t say Sawyer’s name.

  “Did it ever occur to you that performing a spell in a book written by Beelzebub might not be the brightest idea for any reason?”

  I forced myself to speak past the painful lump. “We need him, Jimmy.”

  “No,” he said. “You do.”

  “Sawyer’s one of the most powerful beings on this earth.”

  “Now you are.”

  “Two’s always better than one.” And according to my vision, two was what I would need.

  “Not when one has died and been brought back to life through evil means,” Jimmy said. “You have no idea what he’ll come back like.”

  “He’ll come back like himself.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “You’ve always hated him.”

  “So did you once.”

  Had I? Those days seemed so long ago. After I’d gotten to know Sawyer, to understand him, and I realized why he was the way he was, things had changed. I’d changed.

  I didn’t want to raise Sawyer to assuage my guilt for killing him, or because Faith needed a father, or even because I missed him so damn much—though all of those things were true—but because Sawyer had power, wisdom, and knowledge beyond my own and everyone else’s. I didn’t think we could win without him. And that was without taking into account my dream of a crucified Jimmy and a missing little girl.

  “None of this matters now,” I said. “The book is gone.”

  Along with all its secrets.

  The two of us searched awhile longer for the dagger but had no luck. There were so many holes in the floor, so many piles of old wood and stone, the weapon could be anywhere.

  “You’re sure you brought it?” Jimmy asked.

  “You know, I’m not exactly new at this,” I snapped. I’d had it in my hand. Too bad I hadn’t used it.

  My dizziness passed. I began to attribute it more to being upset over the loss of Sawyer and what that would mean to us all than the love tap Mait had given me. The pain was already gone, and according to Jimmy the black eye was fading.

  We were sweaty and panting by the time we reached the car. The air-conditioning felt heavenly, and I let it blow in my face all the way to the hotel.

  Once there, I went directly into the bathroom and locked the door. Not that a door would keep Sanducci out if he wanted to get in. But the sound of my locking it might. Jimmy would never go where he wasn’t wanted.

  I let tepid water pound on my head and soothe the frantic pounding of my pulse. I was both furious and frightened. We were going to have to make do without Sawyer, and I wasn’t sure how.

  I slammed my palm against the wall. Something crunched. I opened one eye. I’d put a crack in the tile.

  “Suck it up,” I muttered. “Did you think the Apocalypse was going to be easy?”

  No. But I’d thought I’d have more help.

  I half expected Jimmy to be gone by the time I came out—either to beg, borrow, or steal another dagger or to get a lead on Mait. But he wasn’t.

  As I crossed to the dresser and slipped first Ruthie’s crucifix, then Sawyer’s turquoise, over my head, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. For an instant I panicked, thinking my collar had fallen off.

  I braced against the evil that would wash over me along with the unquenchable desire to kill everything I saw. Not that bracing would help. When the evil was free, there was nothing I could do about it. When the evil was me, I didn’t want to.

  Fast on the heels of panic came relief. The demon was gone—at least until the next full moon.

  “Do you have to do that?” Jimmy asked.

  “What?” I turned.

  “Rub his turquoise as if you were rubbing—” Jimmy broke off and crossed to the balcony, staring out at the setting sun.

  I glanced down. I had bee
n rubbing the turquoise as if I were rubbing—

  “Sawyer,” I whispered, and my hand clenched around the stone. I listened, hoping for some kind of answer, but there was nothing. Would there ever be anything again?

  Anger sparked, and since anger was always better than agony, I went with it, crossing the room until I stood just inside the terrace doors.

  “Sanducci.” He faced me, expression tense, mouth tight. “You were supposed to grab the book and run.” I shoved him in the chest.

  “You were supposed to kill Mait.” He shoved me right back.

  “Why didn’t you?” I demanded.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  We stood nose-to-nose, just like when we were kids. If I weren’t careful, he’d kick me in the shin and take my last cookie.

  I turned away. “We had a plan. You should have followed through.”

  “Did you really think I was going to put that book into your hands, Lizzy?”

  I had. My mistake.

  “Why didn’t you take it somewhere and burn it?” I asked. Somewhere that I could have snatched it. “Why wait until Mait recognized you and everything went to hell?”

  “I didn’t wait. I signaled for you to kill him.” He spun me around then looked me up and down as if I were someone he’d just met and did not like. “You were close enough.”

  “That was the plan!” I pulled free. “Your plan. At least I stuck to it.”

  “Until you didn’t kill him.”

  I sighed. “I’m supposed to be the leader of the light. You’re my second. That means you take orders from me, and I ordered you to bring me that book.”

  His eyes flared. For an instant I saw again the vampire he could become. Then he stalked to the door. “What are you going to do about it, mistress?” he sneered. “Kill me?”

  I took a step toward him—the fury inside making me think that sounded like a damn fine idea—but he stepped into the hallway and slammed the door. I didn’t bother to follow; I knew he’d be gone.

  This time I didn’t think he’d be back.

  CHAPTER 31

  As night came, rain pattered on the terrace. I should have packed my things and headed for New Mexico, but I was tired, and sad, and depressed. Watching the rain fall on New Orleans wasn’t helping.