by Pat Esden
It had to be almost two o’clock, but the place wasn’t totally deserted. A few nurses and what looked like office workers sat together at some of the tables eating. At the other tables sat a mix of patients and people who were probably visitors. Near a window, a thin, dark haired, middle-aged woman sat alone, nibbling on a sandwich. Chase’s mother. I was sure of it.
I stepped back and scanned the cafeteria again. Yesterday, when the plumbers had arrived at Newt’s house, I’d learned how quickly something that appeared to be easy could turn sour.
Not giving myself time to second-guess, I pushed the swinging door open and walked into the cafeteria.
Instantly, my gaze caught a flash of turquoise as a woman swished in on the far side of the room and headed for the food service window. It was the woman from the reception counter again. How could she be everywhere?
I bowed my head and wandered toward Chase’s mother, letting my hair screen my face. As long as I didn’t look at the turquoise-topped woman, I’d be all set.
An orderly in a bright-white uniform stepped in front of me, blocking my path. The name tag on his mountainous chest read: SVEN.
He glared down at me. “Looking for someone?”
My pulse went crazy, hammering so fast it made my voice tremble. “I—I was just . . . I came to have lunch with my aunt. She—she disappeared on me.” I looked past him, then waved at Chase’s mom as if I’d just spotted her. “There she is now.”
She blinked like she had no idea who I was. And I realized I’d made an awful mistake. Sure she’d been fine the last time, but that didn’t mean she’d be all right this time. This was a permanent care facility. People weren’t committed to this place for no reason.
Slowly, she tucked the remains of her sandwich down the front of her bejeweled cardigan. Then she smiled at me and lifted her hand in a shaky wave.
I whooshed past Sven and toward her, arriving just as she wobbled to her feet. I offered her my arm and she clutched it for support. “So wonderful to see you,” she murmured.
I kissed her cheek and whispered, “Is there a place we can talk? Privately.”
She nodded. “My room.”
Her bony fingers dug into my arm, steering me toward the hallway on the far side of the room, a dozen or more tables away. One step at a time, we shuffled toward it.
I turned my face away when we came to a table where the turquoise-topped woman was crouched, talking to—Was it Sven? I held my breath as we passed, preparing for the blast of a whistle or a shout of “Intruder!” from the woman. Had they seen us? Were they talking about us?
A sick feeling twisted in my stomach. But I didn’t dare take a second look.
Chase’s mother quickened her pace. We went past the last table and were almost to the hallway, when she stopped in her tracks and gripped my arm with both hands.
“How is my little Chase doing?” she asked softly.
“Ah—” I glanced around, fearful of being caught. “Where’s your room? We should go there.”
She released me and pulled out the remains of her sandwich. Taking off the top slice of bread, she turned it over and then put it back on. “My room has a view of the garden,” she said. “It’s so lovely.” She took a bite of the sandwich, looked at me, and smiled sweetly. “There are roses. Blue ones and green ones.”
Sweat beaded on my temples. She definitely wasn’t all there. Still, I’d come too far to not at least try to get my answers.
Chair legs scraped and a group of nurses got to their feet. Trays in hand, they headed for the dirty-dish window. The other employees, visitors, and patients followed suit. Soon they’d all be flooding our way, the turquoise-topped nurse and Sven included.
“We need to get going,” I whispered to Chase’s mother. “Is there someplace closer where we can talk?”
She giggled. “I knit mittens for Chase. Blue and green. His favorites.”
I swallowed back a lump in my throat. This was horrible. She’d seemed so with it the last time.
A terrifying possibility crept into my mind and my breath faltered. What if the turquoise-topped woman had told Chase’s stepfather about my last visit? What if he’d figured out it had been Chase with me? He hated Chase and would do anything to keep him away. Could that include bribing a doctor into messing with her prescriptions—to make them screw up her mind, so she wouldn’t be lucid enough to talk to Chase?
I glanced at the crowd clustered around the dirty-dish window, then back at the hallway a few feet ahead of us: a sanitary tunnel of white tile and closed doors. Partway down the hallway there was an extra-wide door with a handicap bathroom sign on it. A single stall.
Before Chase’s mom could object, I whipped my arm around her waist and propelled her down the hallway and into the bathroom. I locked the door behind us. Perfect. Just the two of us. Alone.
She swept to the sink and washed her hands, then held them under the air-dryer. “It feels like butterflies are dancing on my skin,” she said.
A newborn headache throbbed behind my eyes. Why had I ever thought coming here was a good idea? For Chase, my heart whispered the answer.
The air-dryer shut off. She let out a long breath and turned toward me. Her posture. Her expression. Everything about her now appeared shockingly sane.
She smoothed down the sleeve of her cardigan. “Now, tell me why Chase isn’t with you.”
For a heartbeat, I couldn’t react. She even sounded fine.
A memory flashed into my mind and I scuffed backward, retreating from her until my back pressed against the door. I’d witnessed abrupt changes in personality like this before, when my dad had been possessed by the genie Culus. Most of the time his symptoms mimicked dementia, but once in a while he’d act chillingly sane. But it couldn’t be. Not again. Chase’s mother couldn’t be possessed.
As if she could read my mind, Chase’s mother reached into her sweater sleeve, pulled out a balled-up tissue, and opened it, revealing an assortment of pills. She tossed them in the toilet and flushed. “It’s rather satisfying to watch my husband’s money go down the drain.”
I laughed as much from relief as anything else. I couldn’t believe it. I’d been right about her husband bribing the doctors to mess with her medicine. But I’d been very wrong about how brilliant she was.
“Chase is in trouble,” I said, stepping closer to her.
She stiffened. “Is it Malphic?”
“Yes, partly. Chase is trapped in the djinn realm again.”
Her gaze met mine, eyes unflinching. “What can I do?”
“I need to know what it was like when Malphic came to you in your sleep. How real it felt.” It sounded rudely blunt and surreal, as if it had come from someone else’s mouth instead of mine.
She lowered her eyes for a second. When she looked back up, understanding shadowed her expression. She knew why I’d asked. “There are experiences that are soul-crushing. They feel unreal at first. Then they grow into an addictive pleasure, followed by endless loneliness.”
“Yes, go on.” I nodded encouragingly, not wanting to break her train of thought.
“The first time Malphic came, my husband was in one of his moods. The stock market wasn’t doing well. I’d put too much sugar in his coffee. Folded his socks wrong, something, nothing, everything was wrong . . . It was raining outside. But there was this place in the garden, a hidden spot beneath the lilacs’ branches. I crawled under there. Can you believe it? A grown woman hiding under a bush like a child, when I could have simply taken the car keys and left?”
I nodded. From what Chase had told me about his abusive stepfather, it made perfect sense.
“I kept hoping I’d hear my husband drive off. But he didn’t, so I stayed under there for hours. The rain soaked through my clothes. I was so cold, shivering and shivering. Then suddenly the air warmed and a glow like a million blue fireflies surrounded me, swirling and caressing my body, flowing over and into me. The sensation was titillating and consuming, a feeling of ecstasy that
left me on the border of tears and oblivion. I was certain I’d fallen asleep and had an amazing dream.” Her cheeks went red, but her voice became taut. “My husband had a lot of girlfriends. He’d started bringing them home. I wanted revenge so badly.”
“It’s understandable,” I said, barely able to whisper.
For a moment she hugged herself, rocking back and forth as if gathering her nerve before continuing. “One day, the doorbell rang. I answered, and Malphic was standing there on my doorstep. He told me he wanted to be with me. He told me I had to leave a door or window open, so he could come to me in the night. I thought I’d lost my mind and that he was a side effect of the insanity. Until that day . . .” Her voice trailed off as she turned away, her back now to me. “Malphic was still inside me when I felt it, the instant Chase was conceived.”
This time my face heated. I swallowed dryly. Hearing the most intimate details of my boyfriend’s conception wasn’t exactly comfortable. Still, the blue fireflies, the warmth, the addictive bliss were all familiar to me, from when Chase and I had made love—and from last night on the clifftop, when we’d been together in what might not have been a dream after all.
I brushed my hands down her arms. “Did he keep visiting you?”
“He did. But I don’t think he realized I knew about the pregnancy, at least that soon. Sometimes, when he thought I was asleep, he’d slip into my room and touch my stomach. I caught a glimpse of him once at one of my husband’s company parties, watching me through the terrace doors.”
Footsteps stopped in the hallway right outside the bathroom and we both went silent.
“She’s not in her room,” a man’s voice said.
“She was in the cafeteria a few minutes ago,” another man answered. Sven, maybe.
Chase’s mom moved close to me, her voice a fast whisper. “My husband didn’t come to the hospital when Chase was born. But Malphic was there.” Her mouth tightened. “I’ll never forgive him for taking Chase from me or for any of the barbarous things he did to him. But I know with all my heart, Malphic loves Chase.”
The footsteps moved on, hurrying toward the cafeteria. It was only a matter of time before they decided to search in here. Once they discovered us, I’d get thrown out. But what would they do to her? She could flush pills, but she was no match for someone like Sven armed with a straightjacket—or a needle and syringe.
I leveled my eyes with hers. “You have to leave with me. It’s not safe for you here.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. My husband would find me, and there are places a lot worse than this.”
“My family’s estate is like a fortress—”
She cut me off. “No, I’ll find my own way out of this, legal and permanent.” She nodded crisply at the door’s lock. “Open it. I’ll create a distraction. When the coast is clear, run.”
My muscles tightened, not wanting to do as she asked.
“Open it now,” she insisted.
Swallowing hard, I turned the lock. I reached for the door latch, but hesitated. There was one more question I had to ask. If I didn’t, I might regret it forever.
I swiveled toward her. “Why you? Why do you think Malphic chose you?”
She smiled. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about that.” She tilted her head as if weighing whether she should tell me or not. She licked her lips. “Malphic told me a story once. My husband had gone away for the weekend and Malphic and I spent every second together. We sat in the garden, drinking wine he’d brought. Musty, but it was wonderful. The way he told the story it sounded like an entry in Tales of the Arabian Nights, a sultan’s chief warrior, a powerful princess, war and forbidden romance.” She gazed off into space.
“But the story was real?”
“Yes, I’d heard it before from my mother and grandmother. Way back—so long ago that the girl’s name has been forgotten—one of my ancestors had a baby, conceived in the middle of a battle, a love child born from a star-crossed union between a Malmuk warrior and a daughter of Genghis Khan. That’s why Malphic chose me—because of my ancestors. Why else would he have made a point of telling me that exact story?”
I could only stare at her. Chase had told me Malphic honored triumph above anything else. The bloodline of two powerful human warriors, a lineage worthy of joining with his.
She touched my hand. “I’m certain it’s true. I devoted years to double-checking my family’s genealogy. There is no doubt, I am a direct descendant of Genghis Khan.”
CHAPTER 9
Powered soft and light, foxglove dust fills the night. Dust to nose and dust to mouth, steals the breath and stills the heart.
—Night Death Spell: attributed to Malphic, Warlord of Blackspire
To say Selena’s parents weren’t pleased with her makeover would be an understatement. In fact, I used the excuse of needing to find Grandfather to escape before the blame could shift in my direction. It turned out, Grandfather and Dad were in the billiards room playing a game and having a before-dinner brandy.
The balls clanked as Dad made a shot. He set his stick down and picked up his snifter off the bar. “I hear Selena underwent quite the transformation?”
“How did you know about that?” The only people Selena and I had seen since we got home were her parents. I rolled my eyes. Of course. “Zachary told you, didn’t he?”
Grandfather sunk the last ball. “I believe he was trying out his new telescope when you two pulled in. Razored sides, is it? Her father must be livid.”
“I think she looks great.” I folded my arms across my chest. “She deserves to go on the rescue mission tomorrow. Seriously, Newt probably wouldn’t even recognize her.”
He chuckled. “We’ll see. The mission’s about rescuing Lotli, not Selena’s pride.”
Dad raised his snifter to me. “By the way, Annie, you look quite lovely.”
“Thanks.” I settled onto a barstool and caught Grandfather’s gaze. It was him, not Dad, who had the money and pull with the old boy network.
He tilted his head. “Something on your mind?”
“I wanted to ask you something.” I continued quickly before I could lose my nerve. “After we had our hair done, I went to see Chase’s mother.”
His eyebrows arched. “And exactly how did you manage that?”
“I kind of—” My face heated. “Let’s just say I got in.”
Dad groaned. “Why do I feel like I’m somehow responsible for this?”
“Because she’s just like you?” Grandfather chuckled again.
I sat back on the stool. “Grandfather, we—you’ve got to do something. We can’t leave Chase’s mother there . . .” I explained about the overmedicating and Chase’s stepfather. “Chase has done a lot for our family. The least we can do is get his mother out of there—and get rid of her husband.”
Grandfather glanced at Dad. “What do you suppose she means by ‘get rid of’?”
“I’m not joking,” I said. “This is serious.”
“I realize that, dear. Don’t worry. I’ll have a talk with our lawyer. I think in this case divorce is more prudent than cement boots and a short ocean cruise, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of course—though a really nasty curse wouldn’t be bad.” I winked, indicating I was joking, at least kind of.
* * *
The comfort of knowing Chase’s mom would be okay energized me all the way through dinner. When the whole family went to the library to look at satellite images of the King’s Pine Yacht Club and discuss tomorrow’s rescue mission, all the stress and aches in my muscles started to catch up with me again. And by ten o’clock, I was a mindless zombie. So, I said good night and went up to my room.
No sooner had I shut my door than a yowl came from the hallway outside. Houdini. Sometimes it felt like he knew what I was doing every second of the day. He’d probably been taking lessons from Zachary.
I let him in and he wound around my legs while I changed into my nightshirt. Bored with me, he moved on to the op
en window and started sharpening his claws on the screen.
“Stop that,” I shouted at him. “If you can’t behave, I won’t let you sleep on my pillow.”
He gave me the stink eye and went right back to sharpening.
I started across the room to swat his butt, but he zinged under the bed.
“Think you’re smarter than me,” I said, shoving the screen up. A fleeting stab of worry went through me, fear that he might jump out of the now totally open half of the window. More likely he’d drive me nuts chasing moths or mosquitoes, anything that flittered in.
I crawled into bed. The breeze coming through the window fluttered the curtains. Houdini jumped up and took over the pillow next to mine, his purr loud and steady. As I drifted off, Chase’s mother’s words floated into my head, “He told me I had to leave a door or window open, so he could come to me in the night.”
I jolted awake. Chase. Cats were known for their ability to sense otherworldly presences. Had Houdini scratched at the screen in an attempt to tell me Chase was there? No. That didn’t make sense. Chase wasn’t a full-blooded genie. Full-bloods could only enter a house or a room through unlocked entrances or with the owner’s permission. Though perhaps the rules were different now that Chase was able to transform into an ethereal form, if he really had come to me.
A wave of longing for Chase roiled inside me. I ran a finger along my lips, imagining his lips on mine. An ache built in my chest. I wanted to be with him, so bad—
I clenched my teeth, driving off the thought. If he was trying to reach out to me, I couldn’t encourage it. I couldn’t do anything that might bring on the change. We needed to get him back home, then Grandfather, Kate, and everyone could help him cope with it or maybe even stop it altogether.
Struggling not to think about Chase, I stared at the ceiling, the moonlight sending shadows dancing across its pale surface. Shadows. Darkness. Blood. His skin had been slick with it.