“Keep trying. We’re almost out of time. Hallow’s Eve will pass and we’ll need to wait another year.”
The woman, Caroline, opened her mouth to speak. Then she stared past Kerr. “She’s here, Kerr. Spencer. Here. I…”
The startling vision shattered inside her skull. Raine fell backward against the sink, hit her head, and went down.
Stars floated before her eyes. She reached around and touched her head, only to feel the sticky warmth of blood. “Great! Just perfect!”
She tried to stand, but it made the stars worse. Or maybe it was that vision. So realistic. She was looking down on Kerr and Caroline, not drawing together bits of information from here and there to arrive at some half-baked conclusion. She’d broken through time, through space. And found out how they’d beaten her and Jack to England. Caroline, a mystic beyond compare, had been tapping into Raine’s consciousness without notice. But no more. Maybe it was the rage, maybe the chaos, or maybe she was finally getting her shit together: whatever it was, Caroline was locked out in the cold.
The fire. Vargr told her walk into the fire, and she thought she’d done that a night ago. But she’d been wrong. Jack’s call had pushed her over an edge, and she’d fallen to the very bottom. The beads no longer mediated the power. She had no more anchor. She was cast adrift. Nothing to lose, everything to gain.
Raine got shakily to her feet, clear on what had to happen next. She turned on her cell and dialed a number she’d never hoped to have to use. The Druid answered after one ring.
“I have the artifacts.” She forced herself to be calm when all she wanted to do was rip the world down around her.
“Excellent. Where are you?”
“Doesn’t matter. You were right. Jack was rotten to the core.”
“You’ve done well, Raine. Proved yourself as one of us.”
Words she’d waited her life to hear from were hollow and meaningless. The dream of knighthood, empty. There was nothing left. Only the mission. She cleared her mind of the drift. Steeled herself.
“We need to meet.” She hoped he’d do as she imagined. Short on time, he’d set a meeting place close to where he planned to employ the artifacts. Maybe, if she was really lucky, he’d bring the rest of the conspirators. It was a bold move on her part, but she’d smoke these bastards out if it was the last thing she did.
“How long until you can reach Manhattan?”
“I have a guide, but the storms are trouble for passage.”
“Call me when you get there. We’ll meet in Central Park. I’ll have men in place, concealed and watching. That way, if you’ve been followed or compromised, we’ll know.”
He didn’t want to meet at the Wardens’ stronghold. Which meant he was playing into her hands.
“One other thing. Don’t bring my uncle,” she said, almost choking on the words.
“But Hugh’s my paladin.”
“Don’t bring him.”
“Whatever you say.”
Exactly, she thought, cutting the connection. No more following orders blindly. No more listening to what everyone else wanted, how they wanted it done. Time to play the game. On her terms and hers alone.
Chapter Seventeen
Jack cursed and hurled his phone across his bedroom.
All the throwing and shouting and cursing in the world wouldn’t help this problem, though. Raine had run out on him. He didn’t know precisely why, but he had a good idea. That salty droplet on the keyboard of the bedroom computer told him volumes. She’d been into his files. Email most likely. Then Gods knew what the hell else. She’d grabbed the artifacts, and his guide, and hit the bricks.
Havers popped her head into the bedroom. “Manny’s disabled the tracking device on the bike. Doris has no clue where he is.”
“I really screwed this up.”
She frowned. “You did. Royally.”
So much for moral support. His chest constricted, squeezing his heart with unbearable pain. “I need to fix it.”
“Yeah, Jack. You do. But don’t send the world to hell in the process. I’ll call Doris back, get us another guide.”
“Thanks.”
He paced wildly, trying to sort it all out. Fuck the world. Fuck the Gods. The dimension. The Covenant. All those worthless, meaningless shits. And himself. He should have told her immediately. All of it. About Seth and Loki’s plan. About Hugh. Now, even if he got a chance, anything he could say would be too little too late.
Frustrated, he hurled himself down into the chair, then swept his arm across the table, sending the computer crashing to the floor. The rush of fear, anger, pain, swallowed him. He gripped the arm rests of the chairs, and a vision seized him.
Caroline. Kerr. Talking. Voices rolling together. Conspiring. Then, Caroline noticing something. No. Someone. Who? Jack strained his near exhausted reserves.
Words filtered through, lingering in his ears as if they were whispered to him by a lover.
“She’s here, I feel her. The Spencer girl.”
Jack’s eyes flew open. The puzzle pieces fell together. He had all the proof he needed.
Kerr. He’d been right all along.
He retrieved his cell. He had only one chance to get this right. Raine was walking well-aware straight to her death. This was lunacy. No way to run an op.
He dialed out a sequence of numbers, requested a contact from the Covenant operator, then waited while the secure transfer occurred.
A few moments passed, then Kerr’s voice vibrated across the line. “What do you want, dog?”
“Is that any way to talk to the man who plans to sell you the artifacts?”
Kerr barked out a laugh. “I’m getting what I want.”
“The girl? She has fakes.”
“Fakes?”
Jack smiled. He had the Druid. “Fakes. I put all that Carmot to good use, old man.”
“Bastard.”
“So I’m told. But listen up, I want to trade. I want Raine.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? She’s a phenomenal surrogate. I don’t give a crap about why you want these things, Kerr. You know I stopped caring about the Covenant mission a long time ago. As long as I have my pocket realm and my sexy little battery, I’m a happy man.”
Jack held his breath, waiting for the response. Kerr had to go for this. He had to take the bait. It was so logical. So fitting for the Mad Jack of the bedtime stories, the man who used everyone and everything, living only for magic, glory, the lust of the next conquest.
Kerr’s laugh was calculating this time. “Maybe I should have counted you in to begin with. Could have saved myself a lot of trouble.”
“Hindsight’s a bitch.” And so is payback. “We have a deal?”
“We do. Meet me in Central Park, Manhattan. Cleopatra’s Needle. Before sunrise.”
“Sure. But if we’re going to do this, we need to do it right. Hugh has to be there, too.”
“Done. Anything else?”
“Yeah, a few more things. Here’s how it’s going to go down.” Jack rolled his other demands out to Kerr. About Caroline. About how the reveal would occur. And the transfer of Raine into his custody. They hammered back and forth about a few details and in the end Jack had to give up a few concessions, but he could deal.
Jack hung up, his mind racing a thousand miles a second. He had enough fakes with a close-enough magical signature to pass off as the real deal. And he had the skills to work this con like a master. What he was out of right now was magic. He couldn’t rely on fear and a freak-out to put him back in touch with sorcery. He needed power, dependable power that he could adequately conceal from the Druid. Magic he could shape like sorcery, wielding it at whim to fit any scenario and any need. Mega juice. Like the old days.
Jack hit the lab and ran through his inventory in his head. He had all kinds of prepackaged charms and potions but none of them would give him what he needed. In the center of the lab, on the marble work table, sat piles of ochre powder. His thou
ghts slowed. His mind cleared. An answer formed.
He grabbed a fist full of the Carmot. It had a variable mass. A variable everything. All it took was intent to shape. Jack roughly calculated all he might face, factored in a percentage for the unknown, and came up with what he figured he need. Way more than a single, safe dose of Carmot would yield.
He let the element slip through his fingers and fall back to the table. He had to make things right. Save the day and the girl. It would be the last things he ever did, but worth it if it meant Raine would be fine. That was it. The real, cold, deep down bottom-line truth for him. He loved her. He wanted her safe. He’d give up everything to gain that end.
“If some is good, more is better,” he muttered to himself. He grabbed the house phone and called Havers. “What did Doris say?”
“There’s a guide named Vargr on his way.”
The name threw him. “Another rogue?” Vargr’s old Norse translation wasn’t promising. The outlaw wolf.
“Nope, I confirmed, he’s registered with a clan. Should be more reliable than Manny. What else can I do?”
“Get me something.”
“Name it.”
Jack made a final run at the calculations. He’d need a tincture. A super-concentrated, reduced form of the element, suspended in an alcohol base.
It would taste like crap.
It would paint his innards red, and kill him in the end.
But it would get the job done. He hoped.
“I need the jug of Margarita mix, that big glass you won at the carnival last year, and all the tequila you can find.”
Jack stumbled out into the desert night, sunglasses firmly in place, rucksack of fake artifacts slung carelessly over his back. There were times it paid to be the son of a Norse God, like when you needed to ingest way more toxic magic and top-shelf tequila than a mere mortal could survive, and still walk upright.
“You’re going to get yourself killed, Jack.” Havers was in her bathrobe, fuzzy slippers, and a rare snit.
“I’ll be back for breakfast.” He was lit up, in more ways than one. He’d laid out the plan, juiced up, and now he wanted to unload. Keeping himself contained was the hardest thing he’d ever done. He couldn’t be sure this would work as planned, so he needed to save his energy. Use it all, once Raine was safe. If he could get Kerr to lay out more of his evil plan, maybe give up a few of his conspirators, that would be nice. But not necessary. Main plan was get Raine away from the crazy Druid, then save the dimension. In that very precise, non-negotiable order.
“How can you see with those things on?”
“Eyes are the windows to the soul.” And a dead giveaway that he was tripping the magical light fantastic right now. He glanced at the black Dodge Charger idling just beyond the twisted metal gates. A giant, shadowy figure lounged against it, radiating menace. Jack looked closer. The guy had a Yankee’s cap pulled low, a close-cropped beard and mustache, and mirrored shades. There was something familiar about him. Jack moved closer and tried to figure out what it was, but drew a blank.
Probably the tequila messing with his head. It would wear down soon enough, and he’d be clear again. For now, it didn’t matter. “Ready?”
He nodded. “Where to?”
“Manhattan. Central Park.” He fished in his pocket, and drew out a piece of note paper. “Here are the coordinates. I need to get as close to Cleopatra’s Needle as possible.”
Vargr reached across the hood of the car and grabbed the paper from Jack’s outstretched hand. Like most Were, he was able to see well in the dark. The slash of mouth turned into a frown. “There’s some crazy activity around that point. I can get you as far as Fifty-Ninth Street.”
“Good enough.” Hopefully, the few cavalry he’d called would make it to ground zero. The others, like Seth and Loki, insisted they required plausible deniability. Same old story. Nothing he couldn’t handle. Jack climbed in the car while Vargr got behind the wheel, and gunned the engine.
“Hold on, son. It’s going to be a wild ride.”
Chapter Eighteen
Raine stalked through Central Park and easily found her way to the small area that held the obelisk known as Cleopatra’s Needle. Shadows moved uneasily around her, the usual park thugs that hung out there after dark. Her stride and look held them at bay, and they gave her a wide berth. She made a few oblique passes around the circular area and the monument, but failed to spot any of the knights Kerr promised. Most likely an enchantment hid them, if indeed they were present.
The layout around the obelisk made it near impossible to pick an easily defensible position. In the end, she settled for a spot at the eastern marker, about five yards from the stone point. She wasn’t sure what she would do to stop Kerr. That depended on what he did. Behind her, the charcoal predawn sky bore a fine strip of pink, hinting at the sun struggling to rise.
“I wondered if you’d show.”
Raine spun round to find Kerr emerging from darkness, flanked not only by Hugh, but three other knights. Hugh wore his ancient-styled armor, the padded gambeson, gleaming plates of mail, and the white tabard of the Templar Knights. The others were more modernly attired. Kerr, as always, wore his grubby white robes.
“I told you to leave him behind.” Raine backed up a few steps. The rising anger at seeing her uncle—correction—her father, threatened to undue the delicate hold she had over the chaos inside of her.
“Change of plans.”
Motion to her right drew her attention.
“Yes,” a familiar voice drawled. “Big change of plans.”
As if it couldn’t get worse. “Jack.”
“You left in such a rush,” he purred, prowling out of the dark. He held a black rucksack by one of the straps, wore black sunglasses, and smelled like tequila. “You forgot these.”
Confusion mixed with the anger as they formed a connection and truth seeped into her mind. Mad Jack was on the make. Again. “What are you talking about?”
“The artifacts,” Kerr supplied easily. “You have fakes.”
“The hell I do.” She looked from Jack to the Druid, then back at Jack, who flashed a quick grin. Oh yeah. He was working a scam alright. The tangled mix of emotions tightened like a bow string poised to shoot. “These are real.”
“Nope.” Jack stepped beside her, opened the ruck, and pulled out a scarab. He held it up and the citrine center lit with an inner fire. “I switched the jars while you were showering. You don’t know enough about magic to tell the difference. Figured I could get a mint for them on the black market.”
Hugh’s eyes went wide with the mention of the shower. There was a dangerous glint in the gaze. An unshakable fury. “I’m going to gut you like a pig, Madden.”
“No, Hugh. You won’t.” Jack tossed the brightly lit scarab into the ruck and dropped the sack to the ground. “I’m going to trade these trinkets for your niece, then I’m going to take her back to my realm and have my wicked way with her. Again and again.”
Hugh jumped, but Kerr held him back with a wave of her hand.
Raine’s thoughts spun. Jack was goading Hugh. A man she knew didn’t give in to goading. And he called her Hugh’s niece when he knew she was really the paladin’s daughter. When she was showering, Jack was undressing. She’d watched him, enjoying the show. He never once touched the artifacts. It was like a great big theater scene. “He’s lying, Kerr.”
“No, he’s not.” Kerr’s voice held a definite note of triumph. And madness. “See how the scarab responded? It tuned into the obelisk. Enhanced the frequency. Only the real artifacts are capable of doing that. Give them over, Jack. Time is wasting. I have a new era to usher in. This dawn will see order laid to this dimension at long last. And the machinations of the Gods will trouble us no more.”
Jack seized Raine’s arm, locking it in a tight, unbreakable grip. The flare of magic stormed through her. His thoughts collided with hers. The truth of what he was up to became clear in her mind. All that had transpired, from his mee
ting with Seth and Loki, to his plans to destroy the artifacts, to his love for her, lit up in her mind in less than the passage of a second of normal time. There was something else, too. Sorcery flowed in him at an alarming rate, barely held in check. Her anger faded in face of fear. Fear for him. Fear of him.
What the hell had he done?
Worse, what was he about to do?
She tried to tap the connection, move forward to guess his next steps, but that was out of her league.
“Let me go,” she hissed, trying without success to pull free. Her own rucksack slid off her arm. So close to him, with all that juice running between them, she reached flash point. Heat sparked to life. Magic coiled inside of her, ready to spring loose. The chaos she’d held back started to slip its chains. “Seriously. You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Oh yes I do.” He kicked the rucks across the clearing to Kerr. Then he started backing away, dragging Raine with him. “Take your crap, old man, and hit the road.”
Kerr scrabbled to the ground and clawed up the sack.
Jack released a deep breath. One Raine hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His body relaxed, then stiffened. Something vile cut the connection between them.
“There’s been another change of plans,” said a woman’s voice. Caroline.
Jack broke his hold on Raine. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, falling to his knees.
Raine looked on in horror at the dagger blade protruding from his back.
Caroline stood behind him, a triumphant smile on her face, her rheumy eyes staring blankly into space.
“No!” Raine knelt beside Jack and took off the shades. In her arms, his body rapidly cooled.
He glanced at her, life fading from his eyes. Then he whispered to her. In Elvish. One word.
“Jai’hi.”
Temporary.
The last of life passed from him. She lowered him gently to the ground, hoping to hell he was right, and wondering who to kill first. Then she pulled up the hood.
Kerr barked out something in the old Druid tongue.
ImmortalIllusions: The Eternity Covenant Book2 Page 28