Binding the Shadows (Arcadia Bell)

by Jenn Bennett

  Dark lashes blinked as he regarded the bottle with curiosity, holding it to the light. “What am I looking at?”

  “Bionic juice.”

  Every muscle tensed. His gaze locked with mine. “You’re joking.”

  “You’ve heard of it?”

  “Three people have asked me for it tonight. Including the quarterback and that dickwad trust-funder,” he said, waving toward the door.

  “Shit. You think he saw the vial?”

  He shook his head dismissively. “He wouldn’t know his ass from his elbow, and he’s too wasted to care right now.” He tilted the vial and studied the liquid inside. “I know people exaggerate—should I assume this doesn’t really do what people say it does?”

  “Magnifies the strength of Earthbound knacks, if that’s what you’ve heard.”

  He thrust it back into my hand like it was poison. “Are you serious? Get this shit away from me. That’s the last think I’d ever want. Something to dull my knack? Sign me up. But I seriously think I’d rather slit my wrists than have it increased.”

  “I’m not trying to sell it to you, drama queen.”

  He sniffled and wiped his nose. “Right. Sorry.”

  “Some punk kid took a dose of this and was able to lift off half a bridge to crash down over my head. A telekinetic homeless kid. And that was after he lifted a car with his mind and killed his friend.”

  “What the hell?” Hajo mumbled.

  I pocketed the red vial and told him about the robberies on Diablo Avenue, Kar Yee’s injury, and the other weird crimes on the news, and how they might be because of this elixir. Told him everything I knew about Telly and exactly where we found him.

  He listened quietly, arms crossed over his chest, then mumbled “fuck” when I finished.

  “So that’s why I called,” I said. “I thought maybe you could help me. You ever heard of this telekinetic kid, Telly?”

  “You think because I’m a dealer, I know every other dealer in the city? Homeless kids selling meth and ten-dollar hand jobs under a bridge?”

  “Ten dollars. Is that all?” No wonder Telly was selling the elixir.

  “Really, Cady?”

  “Look, I don’t know the drug dealer chain of command,” I complained, feeling a little sheepish. “Anyway, he said this bottle’s worth five grand. Guess he was doling out one-drop doses on sugar cubes and selling them for three hundred a pop.”

  “What is this? The ’70s? Why wasn’t he using blotter paper?”

  “How the hell should I know? I’m just telling you what was in his backpack.”

  “And I’m taking it that you don’t know how to brew this up?”

  “No idea. Never seen anything like it.” I told him about Peter Little and his not-so-little luck. “So he claims that he only took one dose, yet he won the big lottery two weeks later. God only knows how long the effects last.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. Maybe Telly was undercharging. We overheard him saying that there’s only two sources for this. We figure it’s the maker and the distributor. I was hoping you might be able to ask around and see if you can get us the name of the dealer.”

  “I see.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “If this stuff is that rare, I bet the kid’s pretty pissed at you for stealing it from him.”

  “Well, I’m pretty freaking pissed at him for hurting Kar Yee and stealing from me.”

  “Can’t say I blame you. How is she?”

  “Kar Yee? Better. Bob’s healing her.”

  A rare open smile revealed a flash of white teeth. “Dr. Robert Hernandez. Who would’ve thunk it?”

  “Leave him alone. You’re such an ass.”

  “Guilty.” But not guilty enough to care much, I supposed. Long fingers molded his hair in place as he studied the nurse painting. “I’ve never met your partner, but I’ve seen her at your bar. Hot. Maybe you should set us up.”

  Never in a million years. “You aren’t fit to be in the same room as her. Now can we focus on the bionic elixir? I’d like to find Telly’s dealer. Or Telly himself. Then I’d like to bind him until his heart explodes.”

  “I’ll bet. Look, I’ll put out some feelers. Try to find who’s distributing the stuff, and while I’m at it, see if anyone’s heard of this Telly kid. If he’s doing business with other dealers, they need to know that he’s dangerous. Might take me a few days, but I’ll call you when I’ve got a something.”

  “Thanks, Hajo. I appreciate it.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, dark, dilated eyes scheming up something behind the miles and miles of black lashes that fanned over his skin. “So, you wanna—”

  “No.”

  “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

  “Don’t need to know.”

  “How about a threesome. Me, you, and Lon.”

  I choked.

  “Don’t say you haven’t thought of it.”

  “No, Hajo. I can truly say that I have never thought of it.”

  He gave me a sexy little smile. “You will now, though.”

  “In my nightmares.”

  Ugh. If that thought ever materialized inside my brain while I was having sex with transmutated, thought-reading Lon, I would die. And Lon would probably come over here and strangle Hajo with his bare hands. Which might not be the worst thing in the world, but still. I shuddered and shook the thought away as I walked toward the double doors leading out of the room.

  “Set me up with Kar Yee,” Hajo called out from behind me.

  I gave him a look over my shoulder as the rolling trance music pulsed through the doors. “Buy the nurse painting,” I said with a smile. “And call me when you have a name.”

  I picked my way through the crowded party and gave a little wave to Hajo’s waif to let her know that I was finished with him. Once I was out of the condo, I breathed a sigh of relief. Lon wasn’t going to be thrilled to know I’d been here, but at least I came out unscathed, and maybe Hajo would find a name that would help us. I buttoned up my coat and caught the elevator to the parking garage just as someone was stepping out. But when I hit the button to take me underground, a hand stopped the doors from closing.

  “Hi there. Mind if I ride down with you?”

  It was the man with the blond ponytail—the trust funder. Darren, I think Hajo had called him. And the predatory way he was looking at me made all the hairs on my arms stand on end.

  He pressed the button to close the elevator doors and blocked me from stepping back out. His pupils were tiny black dots in a sea of bright blue. His halo was weak and pale.

  “You were selling something to Hajo,” he said when the doors closed.

  Shit. He’d seen the red vial when he busted in on Hajo and me. He was also several inches over six feet tall, lording over me like someone who was accustomed to taking what he wanted.

  The elevator descended. I lunged for a button—any button, any floor. But he shifted in front of the control panel like a moveable brick wall. Ungodly fast for someone who was wasted. Ungodly fast for someone who wasn’t. I backed up into the far corner of the elevator. Classical music, calm and innocuous, filled the small space, mocking me with its false assurance that everything was fine.

  “I saw the red juice,” he insisted, stretching an arm across the elevator doors, like I’d try to pry them open while the car in was in motion. “Should’ve known Hajo was holding out.”

  “Look, you’re mistaken—” I started, trying to buy some time while we descended. I could pull some current and shock him, but there was a chance I’d blow the elevator’s fuse. Did I really want to risk getting trapped inside here with him?

  “I know what I saw. And I want it.” His arm shot out, lightning fast. His big hand was around my throat before I could blink. “I don’t want to hurt you. Let’s play nice. Just give me a dose and I’ll leave you alone.”

  He wasn’t choking me. Just showing me he could. And when I went for the portable caduceus inside my jacket pocket, he a
lso showed me how fast he really was. His free hand slapped mine away with unexpected force. Pain rocketed up my arm. I yelped.

  “Speed,” he said with a cocky smile. “A good enough knack. Would be better if you’d give me a dose of what you’ve got.”

  “Get your hands off me,” I bit out.

  “Hand over the juice, and I will.”

  “All I’m going to give you is a warning. Because if you don’t step back—”

  “What will you do? Call the cops and tell them that you refused to sell someone drugs?” He laughed. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll even pay you for the dose. Name your price. This is just a simple transaction. Don’t make it into anything more.”

  I flailed, trying to knee him in the groin, but he blocked all my moves with ease.

  Panic morphed into a black, black anger. Within the span of one second, my intentions had already leapt over the possibility of shocking him with Heka and tunneled into something much worse.

  I just couldn’t help myself.

  Darkness fell. Sound turned in on itself. The blue pinpoint jumped into my line of vision.

  I felt Darren slipping fingers inside my jacket, going for the red vial. But as his warm hand ghosted over my stomach, something changed. Something was cool against my skin. It started around my neck and washed over my breasts . . . my stomach. Like someone had spilled a cold drink down my shirt. He felt it too. His arm jerked away, as if he’d been burned.

  He withdrew. Dropped his hold on me completely and backed up a step. I could see the blue pinpoint of light beyond him, overlapping where his heart beat inside his chest. And I probably should’ve been worried when the blue changed to bright silver, but I was distracted.

  That thing happened again. Just like in Tambuku: something ran down my leg. Something cold and thick and smooth.

  The elevator ground to halt, startling me out of my fear. Darren, too. His blue halo swirled as he shook his head like a dog that had just emerged from a rainstorm. He lunged at me again. Both hands were on my throat now. And any fear or doubt I’d been harboring just went up in smoke. I emptied my mind and focused on the now-silver dot. Internally spoke what I wanted, loud and clear.

  Get off.

  His big body flew backward. Slammed into the elevator doors. A second later, the doors opened. He lost his balance and fell outside, landing on his back. I felt the impact in my soles of my shoes. Felt something else, too—a growing pressure on my leg. Something moved there. My jean leg tightened uncomfortably. It was cutting off the circulation in my thigh. Throbbing. I limped out of the elevator, following Darren’s path as he crab-walked backward into the parking garage.

  Before I turned to see what was hurting my leg, Darren reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He was fumbling with something on the key ring. Pepper spray.

  Big trust fund party-boy was going to mace me? Fuck that.

  I meant to kick the mace away. That was definitely my intention. But something popped on the back of my leg. The pressure around my thigh released. And then, lightning-quick, instead of my foot, something else smacked the spray canister.

  Something that came from behind me.

  Something connected to me.

  I felt the cool, jagged edges of his keys before they sailed across the garage. Felt them with what? Did my magick solidify and mold itself into some sort of weapon?

  Darren shouted—I saw his mouth open and heard the sound in a distant, removed sort of way through the filter of my moon sight. He was on his feet way too fast, towering over me again. He had something else in his hand and was highly pissed off. His arm lifted. Metal glinted between his whitened knuckles. A pocketknife.

  The jerk was going to stab me.

  Anger and Heka got jumbled up inside me. Seethed. Boiled. Raged. I couldn’t even make any rational, focused thoughts. All I could do was let it out before I went crazy with it.

  Energy ebbed from me. A gush of Heka. It reached out for something—moon energy, perhaps—and came back like a boomerang, charged and ready. I made no conscious decision about what to do with it. I just unleashed it.

  A cloud of silver swirled around me. I pushed it out across Darren, expanding it. There was nothing but the fog. I was creating it, spinning it . . . and it was part of me. He was a bug on my web. I spun the fog around him, encasing him in tight circles of silver smoke.

  I felt Darren’s heart pounding furiously, and his life draining away. I’m not sure how I felt it, but it was as if I had my hands on him and was measuring his pulse beneath my fingers. I was strangling him with the fog.

  I was going to kill him.

  The thing was, for a moment, I wasn’t even sure if I cared. God help me, but I think I almost wanted to kill him. And then some tiny voice of reason raised its hand inside me and waved—as if to say, You sure you want to go this far?

  I didn’t.

  Straining, I tried to let go of the magick. It was so hard. Unnatural, even. But I kept trying, and my grip on Darren slackened. I felt him fall away and drop to the ground. The dark overlay of the moon magick lifted. My normal sight returned. I could hear a car driving on the parking level above us. It was gone. I’d done it. Pushed it away.

  Maybe I really could control it.

  And I never heard my mother. Not once. No whispering, no visions.

  A small, joyous laugh escaped my lips.

  My chest heaved with labored breath as I glanced down to check on Darren. His body lay crumpled at my feet, arms askew, mouth open. I couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

  My silver halo was stunningly bright. Bigger. I could tell because it was outlining the sleeves of my jacket with a silver light. It shone like a spotlight behind my head, one that cast a long shadow over Darren’s body and the cement below. And I saw myself in that shadow: the curve of my hips, the shapes of my legs and arms, my hair standing around my head like it sometimes does when I’m channeling electricity.

  And the long, rope-like shape of a tail.

  A goddamn tail!

  Like a reptile. Like a dirty rat.

  I suddenly knew what had smacked the keys out of Darren’s hand. What had wrapped around his body along with my silver fog.

  I panicked. Hard. Cried out in shock.

  Without thinking, I called up the moon magick again. It came so fast, like snapping my fingers.

  I didn’t have any idea what I was doing. I just wanted to retreat—that’s all. Never in a million years would I have imagined what power a simple thought could wield.

  The scent of cool, damp earth filled my senses.

  A memory floated by: falling down a summertime grassy hill when I was five or six. Skinning my knees. My face pressing against the ground as I wept. And no one coming to my rescue. I remembered crying until I couldn’t cry anymore before I’d picked myself up and walked home alone. My mother had taken one look at me and said, “Oh, le petit cochon!” And after that, my father built a fence around our yard, and I wasn’t allowed to leave.

  That’s where I thought I was for a moment. Then I smelled other things: intoxicating lavender and pine, pungent coastal sagebrush. The unmistakable, comforting scent of cool ocean air. And then I realized that the person calling my name wasn’t saying “Sélène,” but “Cady.” And there wasn’t anger and disgust beneath the voice, merely pained concern.

  Strong, warm hands rolled me over onto my back. An indigo blue sky dotted with hundreds of stars came into view. I knew where I was from that alone. You couldn’t see that many stars in the city. The view here was as breathtakingly beautiful at night as it was in the day. And the best part about it was the man’s face hovering over mine.

  “Cady!”

  I was in Lon’s backyard—his lush Garden of Eden that looked out over the cliff across the Pacific. Behind me was the welcoming harbor of a redwood deck and his covered patio, where we drank jasmine tea in the afternoon. Where we watched Jupe play fetch with Foxglove. Where we ate dinner on warm nights
and talked and laughed and made plans.

  I was safe. Home.

  I stared up at Lon for an extended moment, lingering over the long hollows of his cheeks and tight furrow bisecting his worried brow. He was shifted. The green and gold of his flaming halo flickered over his ruddy, spiraling horns. Usually when his halo was big and transmutated like this, it cast long shadows over his face. But his features seemed brighter than usual. Ah, my halo was doing that, lighting his face from the front with a silvery glow.

  My halo. Too bright. The parking garage. It all snapped back.

  Panicking, I reached a searching hand down my backside. No reptilian tail. But I hadn’t imagined it: my fingers found a gaping tear in my jeans where it burst through.

  “Oh, God, no,” I whispered, the words drowned in a fit of uncontrollable sobbing.

  Intense green eyes stared down at me, serious and commanding. “Show me,” he said in a low voice.

  I’d never been so thankful for his ability. It was a relief to just remember everything, instead of trying to explain it. I didn’t have the strength to edit details, so I showed him everything—the conversation with Hajo, the man accosting me in the elevator, and the crazy details of what came after, tail and all.

  If he was shocked, he didn’t show it. And I was thankful for that, too.

  I don’t know if I killed him, I said internally. I don’t think I did, but I’m not sure. What if I did?

  “Fucker deserved whatever he got.”

  But—

  “Stop worrying and let me handle that. You’re not hurt?”

  I shook my head, but I wasn’t totally sure. I didn’t feel like I could move. Like all my energy had been sapped. Lon sat on the grass and pulled me into his lap. He held me close and ran his hands up and down my back as I blubbered and sniffled. And when I was all cried out, I asked, “Is my car here?”

  The bass of his voice vibrated through my cheek. “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, God.” What the hell had I done? Slipped through time? Flown here? Beamed myself thirty miles to the coast without the help of the Starship Enterprise?