Illusion

by C. L. Roman

  "Gwyneth, Lucky wants that necklace back." He advanced and she retreated.

  "Then he will need to come and get it for himself."

  "Fortunately for you, he doesn't operate that way. He sent me." Loki glared at her and then his mouth sagged and he ran his hand over his face. "Gwyn, believe me, you don't want to meet him in person."

  She pressed the pendant into her chest on a tight breath, but her voice was strong as she replied. "And it is just coincidence that he wants the boys too? I don't think so. Why don't you just hide them? That is what you planned in the first place."

  "It is," he said. "But it would be better if he wasn't looking for them. Otherwise I'm going to have to watch them all the time. I'll have to —"

  "The answer is no, Loki."

  He's going to jump you, lunge right.

  Gwyneth dropped the pendant with a gasp. Loki was already moving, his form blurring. Gwyneth dropped, and his hand missed her arm, but caught the shoulder strap of her dress, spinning her in place. The amulet pulsed and a series of images and words shot through her mind. It made her cringe, but Gwyneth got the message.

  "Terrorist!" she shouted. "Help me, he's a terrorist! He wants to blow up the hospital."

  People in the waiting room jumped to their feet. A male nurse at the registration desk hit a button on the wall with one hand, and picked up a handset with the other. Red warning lights flashed. Security officers rushed toward Loki, batons in hand.

  Gwyneth pried his fingers from her dress. "As long as you hold on to me, Sena will keep us from going into the Shift," she whispered. "And if you fight them off here, it will be all over the papers, just like Jotun."

  "You bitch."

  "You bet." Pushing away from him, she raised her voice. "Stop him! I think he has a bomb!"

  The thin wail of sirens pushed through the glass, faint, but growing louder. She leapt clear as the first security officer reached for Loki, and found nothing but black smoke. People screamed and a police car screeched to a halt outside the ER doors.

  An hour later, the official search of the hospital found no trace of Loki. Gwyneth waited in a quiet room, thinking.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  A cool, sweet breeze swirled through the cherry blossom trees on the National Mall. The dome of the Jefferson Memorial gave Surt an unrestricted view of US One, the route specified in Admiral Conroy's latest itinerary, thoughtfully e-mailed to his wife just this morning. Jotun had disappeared, but the virus he planted in the Admiral's phone remained. According to the schedule, tonight he would be debriefing the president on the arms summit. After the briefing, Conroy would be flying home for the weekend. At least that was his plan.

  Surt grinned, his mouth a black slash in the gathering darkness. Cars plodded along in the sluggish traffic. He shook his head. Why humans named this 'rush hour' he would never understand. Lipstick red sports cars inched past wide, white delivery vans and bulbous, neon green compacts, providing a constantly changing drama for his entertainment. He could almost taste the frustration of the drivers. There was a faint screech of tires and Surt tensed, hoping for a crash. The little gold sedan put on an unexpected spurt of speed though, and evaded the blue metal-flake muscle car.

  The sun dipped its lower curve below the horizon and Surt inched onto his haunches. The Admiral should be moving through this section of highway within the next few moments. The plan depended on Surt stopping motorcade before it left this stretch of road. A cargo van rounded the bend off the causeway and behind it in the next lane, a long black limousine.

  Right on schedule.

  Surt launched himself, spreading his tattered wings with pained determination. In seconds he was hovering above the limo. He folded his wings, plunging like a hawk on a rabbit.

  The metal screeched under his talons and the limo swerved right, glancing off the cargo van with a wail of protesting tires. Surt peeled the roof back and poked his head inside. Conroy stared at him along the barrel of a fully loaded magnum. There was a bright burst of orange light and a searing pain in his temple. Surt roared and plunged into the car.

  Michael Conroy glared out the window at the slow moving traffic, then glanced at the seat next to him. He wished the gun laying there were more reassuring. Putting Caroline on a plane home that morning had taken some finagling, especially after their visitor last night, but he had managed it. Now he had a single evening to prepare for a morning meeting with the President when he had zero interest in anything except getting home.

  A white cargo van pulled alongside, filling his window with the bright purple message "AMCO Car Wash: Put more sparkle in your ride today!"

  Moments later the van pulled ahead and they were rounding the final curve of the causeway. Michael gathered the papers together, shuffling and tapping them into order.

  A leaden thump jerked his attention to the roof. It buckled, showing two oval imprints for an instant before it sheared open. The gun was already in the Admiral's hand when a monster stuck his head through the jagged hole. He stared into the thing's eyes for half a heartbeat, his finger tightening on the trigger. The gun jumped and he heard an instant of explosion before his hearing shut down, muffling the demon's scream. The monster dropped inside, closing its clawed hand around Michael's throat.

  The gun bucked and the limo slammed into the cargo van's rear quarter panel as a second shot went wide, the bullet burying itself in the back of the front seat. He could hear Joe and Julia yelling instructions to each other, but his vision was fading, dimmed by the monster's grip. He struggled to bring the magnum to bear and pulled the trigger a third time when he felt the muzzle contact flesh.

  Metal groaned against metal as the limo and the cargo van ground to a halt. The demon grabbed Conroy's arm and twisted his hand until the bones snapped and he dropped the gun. Agony bolted up his arm, forcing a scream past his lips. The car door flew open and Julia led with her M9.

  "Kill it!" he croaked, and she fired. Dropping Conroy, the demon grabbed Julia's wrist and flipped the gun around. Conroy heard her wrist break, and her scream before the M9 silenced her. A crash sounded from the roof and Joe's M9 blazed, firing four rounds into the creature's back before it could react. It launched itself out the passenger door. Using the frame as a pivot to swing high, it landed on Joe's chest, shoving him half way through the wrecked roof. The M9 spat leaded fury at the monster until it clicked empty and Joe threw it aside, scrabbling for another weapon, blood bubbling from his lips.

  Conroy grabbed his pistol from the floor boards and hurled himself from the vehicle. Crouching, he fired, putting two in the ten ring before the thing could leap down on him. It grabbed him by the shoulder and he felt the bones and tendon grind together. It shook him and the pistol clattered to the pavement.

  "Stupid humans. You are wasting my time." It flung Conroy against the side of the panel van.

  Pain exploded through his body, radiating from his back through his chest and along his limbs. His arms and legs weighed on him, anchoring him to the street. Muffled screams and sirens assaulted his ears while the stench of blood and exhaust burned inside his nose. The monster jumped onto the hood of the limo and crouched there, picking at one of the bullet holes in its chest. It grimaced as it thrust a finger inside the wound, digging around until it managed to pry the projectile out. It threw the bullet, still hot from firing, at Conroy, hitting him in the chest with a dull thunk.

  "Your bullets cannot hurt me. You waste them." It leapt down from the hood and lifted Julia's body from the ground, then hoisted Conroy over its shoulder. "I waste nothing. Now you will come with me."

  It took a step and black smoke rose around him, shrouding them as the air temperature plummeted and then rose again in the next instant. It dropped Julia's body onto the floor and Conroy into a chair.

  "First I will eat, then we will talk," it said, and sank its teeth into Julia's neck.

  Adopting a slightly older version of the same Hispanic coloring and features he had used at the hotel, Jotun had no tr
ouble infiltrating the hospital. Taking up a position in reception, he watched the other nurses and matched his behavior to theirs. The news report hadn't been as specific as he would have liked, but he had no doubt that the break in at Delaney Designs was connected to Freya somehow. Where she'd been the last two weeks, he didn't know, but somehow, he had little doubt that she would show up at the hospital sooner rather than later. He had time. He would wait until she did, and then he would get some answers.

  "And who are you?" The head nurse stared at him with authority and a fair amount of suspicion in her gaze. He checked her name tag.

  "Hello, Nurse Hadely, I'm Anthony Rodriguez, your new floor nurse."

  "HR is really slipping lately. You weren't supposed to start until Tuesday, and that is not the name they gave me." She sighed and handed him a stack of charts. "Never mind. Just take that station there and start entering these. You're lucky, it's slow tonight. Wendy can start training you on intake procedures with the next person through those doors. Did they give you a log in?"

  He accepted the charts with a shrug.

  "Of course they didn't," she said, her brows creasing. "Not an issue. I have a trainee log in you can use until they make you official. So, sit, and I'll get Wendy." She took a half step away and then looked back at him. "You see that button?" She pointed at a round, red switch set into the console. He looked and nodded.

  "Anything too weird happens, you hit that. Security will come running." She gave him an assessing look and then hurried off, picking up another stack of charts on the move.

  Wendy showed up a few moments later and sat down next to him. "Hadely tells me you are the new guy? Well, let’s get you signed in." She reached for the key board, halting midway when the ER doors burst open to admit an Amazon with long, crimson curls and frantic eyes.

  Freya.

  A well dressed, dark-haired man rushed in behind her and Jotun's nostrils flared at the faint scent of demon that came with him.

  Loki.

  Freya clutched a pendant in her hand as the pair held an intense, whispered conversation. Raising her voice, she said, "You are happy though. I want nothing from you."

  People in the waiting room turned, craning their necks to get a better view of the minor drama. A few took out camera phones and started taking pictures.

  Loki moved closer, lowering his voice to a strained whisper. Jotun heard a thread of sound, subtle and separate from the demon's voice. He tilted his head, trying to trace it, but the sibilance was gone as quickly as it had begun. An intent look crossed Freya's face and she dropped, turning aside as her assailant reached for her. He managed a grip on her dress as she shouted, "He's a terrorist! He wants to blow up the hospital!"

  "Hit the button," Wendy said, her voice squeaky with fear.

  Jotun flipped the switch and a red light flooded the ER. He heard a faint buzzing as security alerts sounded from communications devices around the ward. In the entryway, the demon snatched Freya close and hissed a warning, but she pushed away from him. "Stop him! He has a bomb!"

  An emergency response vehicle screeched to a halt outside the ER doors as hospital security personnel ran into the waiting area, batons out. Several patients screamed and Freya leaned close to the demon and whispered something. A breath later, he had disappeared in a cloud of gray smoke.

  A uniformed officer with the initials, "SRG" stenciled on his Kevlar vest stalked up to the desk. "We need to organize a search and take that woman into protective custody. I need a room where I can keep her safe until she can be transported to police headquarters."

  Wendy nodded dumbly and gestured that the man should follow her. He signaled the men with Freya and the entire group moved off down the corridor. Jotun wandered into the corridor to see which room they went into.

  "What are you doing standing around?" Hadely materialized beside him. "Half these patients are next door to a heart attack thanks to this. Come on." She headed toward the waiting room, still talking. "And that girl needs to find another place to live. New York City is just not her town."

  "What makes you say that?" he asked.

  "You don't recognize her? That's Gwyneth Nephel." They moved through the waiting room offering reassurance and blankets to those who needed them.

  Hadely directed two patients into exam rooms before she continued speaking. "She showed up here, out of nowhere, not more than two months ago. Spoke no English at all. Her husband had collapsed down on Fifth and Broadway. He destroyed our exam room and put three security guys in hospital beds. Then he's gone, just gone. Here, give these charts to the charge nurse and tell her two and four are empty."

  Stunned, he took the charts from her. "They arrived together?" Hadely gave him a strange look and he rephrased. "I mean, there were two of them and the police brought them in at the same time?"

  "According to Mike, they just sort of appeared. Her husband was unconscious, some kind of head injury we think. She thought EMS was trying to kill him. Attacked them when they went to cut his shirt open. They had to drug her to get them both in here."

  "What happened with her then? Was she hurt?"

  "No, apparently he was the only one injured in whatever happened to them. But she didn't stay around long enough for us to find out. She leaves, AMA, I might add, and the next thing I see is that she's started a modeling career that takes off like a bat out of..." She trailed off, chewing on her lip. "Then, just about two weeks ago, her boss is brought in after being attacked at his studio and the military tries to take her into custody. She poofs, but here she is, back again. I swear, that girl needs to stay away from this hospital."

  "Her boss?" Jotun said, pieces clicking into place faster than he could blink. "Cole Delaney, you mean?"

  "So you have heard of her." She led the way into the pharmaceutical supply room and started checking stock. "Yeah, that's him; still in the NSICU and who knows if he’ll ever wake up? Now, we got work to do. You need to go tell Wendy about those rooms."

  "On my way. Talk to you later, Nurse Hadely."

  "Just Hadely is fine. We don't stand on formality too much around here." She gave him a tired smile. "Go on."

  Jotun walked down the corridor, passing full exam rooms along the way. Wendy didn't appear to have needed his information. He ducked into a bathroom and closed the stall door behind him. He walked out as a tall, white haired gentleman in a lab coat.

  On his way to find Freya, he caught the middle of a news report blaring from a monitor in the waiting room. The video footage showed the smoldering wreckage of a black limousine and a cargo van. The limo's top had been peeled open like a can of sardines. EMTs worked frantically over a single, male body.

  "Admiral Conroy's whereabouts are currently unknown, but witnesses report the fantastic image of a grotesque figure carrying both the Admiral and his bodyguard, disappearing in a cloud of black smoke."

  Jotun ground his teeth. "Surt," he said, and sprinted out the ER doors.

  The heart monitor blipped steadily, punctuated by the two-pitch aspirated drone of the respirator. Faint yellow-green light from various monitors enhanced the gloom more than alleviated it. Cole lay motionless in the bed, his head swathed in white cotton, his face nearly as pale as the bandages. For the moment he was alone in the room, death having relieved the neighboring bed of its occupant some hours before.

  Moonlight plucked at the edges of the window covering, giving it the look of an otherworldly portal, but they did not enter through the window. He felt the flickering evidence of their arrival against his closed eyelids and deep within his mind something twisted. Fear pushed him toward the bleak, cold surface of consciousness, but could not lift him high enough.

  "He is still unconscious." A male voice, deep and formal.

  "We knew he would be." The female tones were lighter, but somber as those of a person attending a funeral.

  He felt a slight change in the air beside him and knew someone was standing there. His heart began to pound and the cardiac monitor's monotonous voice too
k on a worried cadence.

  "Are you sure about this?" The man again, and Cole felt a stealthy movement on the other side of the bed.

  "There is no other way to set things right. It has to be done."

  "I don't like it. Why do you have to be the one?"

  "It is our responsibility." Her voice was sharp and the statement was followed by silence. After a moment she sighed. "We haven't the time to argue. Let me do it and have it over with."

  "What do you need?"

  "Your dagger, and then make sure no one disturbs me."

  Cole felt his soul recoil and the heart monitor bleated in earnest.

  "Can he hear us?"

  "Probably. Here, take the little wire thing and put it on your chest. See, how they have it attached over his heart? It must be keeping track of his heart beat." He felt her lean over him and a soft tickle before the monitor's beeping settled back into a steady rhythm. "Cole, you mustn't fight me. I promise you, it will all be better soon."

  He felt a warm, wetness on his forehead and the weight of her hand on his face. Warmth darted along his cheek bones, into his neck and across his scalp. His heart raced and the warmth became heat, settling into the muscle and bone. White light flashed across his inner vision and he saw his life, as if viewing it from the outside. His birth, the smiles on his parent's faces, birthdays, Christmas, Xavier as an infant, the two of them at school. He saw again the moment he and Xavier had stood back to back, a group of bullies surrounding them. Saw the brothers walk away, arm in arm, wearing victor's grins. Graduations, the day they cut the grand-opening ribbon on the design studio. The night he'd first seen Gwyneth.

  The light faded and the pictures drifted off one by one, bright bits of animated confetti.

  "It seems a shame to leave him like this." She sounded tired.

  "It must seem like a natural occurrence. There have been too many strange events around him lately." A rustle of cloth tracked the man's movements even as darkness edged into the light in Cole's mind. "Besides," the male said. "We need to get you out of here. Things like this aren't good for you."