"Right." Those had to have been Damien's three Jane Does. A small bubble of humor rose through her racing thoughts. Boy, was he going to love that—two nymphs and a goddess. The poor guy had been so distressed by the idea of supernatural involvement. Now she was in over her head, too. Although perhaps she and Nimue could help each other.
"Can you untie me?"
"I cannot untie knots that were made by human hands, otherwise I would."
"Something makes me doubt that they were human." Audrey remembered the strange appearance of the hand that had grabbed her. "Did you see who or what brought me here?"
Nimue cocked her head. "They may have been vampires." She shuddered. "Awful things. But even so, there is one more thing."
Audrey cursed under her breath, her fear turning to anger at her suggestions being blocked. Didn't the stupid girl know what could happen to them? And vampires? What the ever-living hell? Just my luck, getting stuck with a useless nymph. "What?"
"My fingers are numb and stiff."
"Oh." Anger deflating under hopelessness, Audrey flexed her fingers but could barely feel them. "Mine, too."
Her head throbbed in time with the thunder, and she wondered if she had a concussion. That meant she probably shouldn't sleep. But her fear and then anger had worn her out, and fighting her drowsiness seemed as easy as escaping from that damn clear box.
Maybe I can use this to dream-spin or whatever it's called to find some help for us.
"Well, while you wait for your water, I'm going to catch some sleep. Hopefully."
"Fair travels, Dream Weaver."
"What?"
But Nimue had gone back to staring at the ceiling and didn't respond.
Giving up, Audrey tried to get comfortable against a wooden packing crate and soon a floating feeling, her usual signal that she was about to fall asleep, took over.
Find help, find help, she chanted to herself, and the vivid dream of the Olympians that had started it all came to mind. Soon, bright sunlight stung her closed eyelids, and the rough concrete she laid on smoothed out to warm marble.
Lyle Ames looked at the city lights that twinkled below his office window as the pill melted under his tongue. He thought about all the people in the condos and town homes he'd built and then sold at premium prices. Were they finished with dinner? Maybe reading their kids a story? How about cuddling with their spouses, partners, significant others, or whatever other "other" category Atlantans defined for themselves?
He loved this city and its veneer of Southern charm over a lustful pulse that never faded. That's why Scarlett O'Hara had fit in so well here, fictional though she was. She had drive, ambition, and the beauty and talent to make the most of it. Too bad she had to fall in love. Calculated lust is so much more profitable.
"We have problems."
He turned toward the speaker, a little toady from the Other Side. The squat man in an ill-fitting suit lifted his bulging eyes toward Lyle with an expression both nauseating and placating. Lyle wondered if Zeus had assigned this creature as his liaison just to irritate him, or maybe because he'd annoyed Zeus.
"What kind of problems?" He pressed his fingertips to the window and took comfort in its cool hardness.
"The women at the hospital, they got out, and we chased down two of them like you said, and we thought we caught the other one."
"Thought?"
The man's head bobbed nervously. "It turns out it's not her," he said out of the corner of his mouth so quietly that Lyle almost didn't hear it.
"Then who is it?" Lyle didn't yell, but his tone left no doubt he was furious.
The toady shrugged. "Just some mortal who looks like her."
"What concern is this of mine?"
"Well." The little man coughed and spluttered like the words in his throat were being drowned with phlegm. "The boss wants her. He wants to arrange a trade."
Lyle turned back toward the window and the lights. Some poor mortal who should be at home in bed but had gotten snatched by gods-knew-what. He certainly didn't want to know. But his conscience pricked him at the thought of giving this girl to Zeus.
"Where is she?"
"At the warehouse with the water nymph."
"Then Zeus has probably already found her. I pray that she can keep her wits about her." He shivered as he remembered his first interview with the king of the gods. "You may leave. Bother me only if it's a true emergency."
The toady shuffled out the door, and Lyle tried to clear his mind of everything but the lights. In his head, they muted and softened until they were the glow of a thousand temple candles. He sat back in his office chair and waited for the journey to begin. It had been a rough day, and he deserved a little reward for all his hard work. His breathing slowed, and a slight smile played on his lips at the images that formed behind his eyelids: marble steps leading up to row of white columns. Diaphanous pastel-colored curtains fluttered in a door that stood open and inviting…
Audrey woke to a smooth, hard surface like stone that had felt the heat of the sun. She opened her eyes and squinted against the bright sunbeams that poured through the columns, beyond which gardens, and farther off, mountains stretched. She still lay on her side, her hands and feet tied. This prison was a lot prettier than her last one. Purple, royal blue, and gold hangings stirred in a gentle breeze and cast dancing shadows over the white marble floors, columns, and ceiling.
Had she made it to the Collective Unconscious? Her heart quickened with hope. Maybe she could find Maggie or Zinfandel or—
"You may stand," said a woman's voice, hard like the marble and colder than the snow-capped mountains in the distance.
Her optimism dashed like the woman had poured cold water over it. Audrey squirmed into a kneeling position, but that was all she could manage with her tied feet. She scooted around to face the center of the room, where two people she recognized from the kidnapping scene sat on jewel-encrusted gold thrones. Now that she saw them in context, Audrey identified the man and woman who were comforting Demeter as Zeus and Hera, and she deduced she must be on Mount Olympus. Demeter, who looked like an older but very well-preserved version of Persephone, stood next to Zeus' throne in all black, her dark eyes red from weeping.
"Uh, Your Highnesses," said Audrey. She tried to bow from the waist and nearly toppled over.
"Human, do you know why you are here?" asked Zeus, his voice like the low growl of thunder.
"Not really. I think there's been some sort of mistake."
"There's no mistake," said Demeter. "I remember you from the day 'Sephone disappeared. You were there in the field with that useless dragon."
Hera crossed her legs and twitched her foot. "That does not necessarily mean she's involved, Demeter. We've had a lot of traffic recently."
"But she has been captured by the night creatures." Zeus raised a suspicious eyebrow at Audrey. "They must have caught her at something." He grinned as though he imagined what.
"Only if waiting tables badly is a crime, Your Majesty." Audrey bit her tongue. That probably hadn't been the right time to make a joke, but the thought they might let her go if she told them about Persephone made her want to giggle hysterically. Hera hid a smile behind her hand.
Zeus, on the other hand, glowered at her and hit the arm of his throne. "Silence!" A clap of thunder shook the building, and the light faded. "It should be, but that is not the issue here."
"If I may, Your Highnesses," Audrey told them. "I have seen Persephone."
"You have?" Demeter's eyes lit up. "Is she unharmed?"
"Yes, Lady, she is. She is currently in the care of Maggie, er, Margaret the Truth Seeker."
Instead of looking happy, Zeus brought his brows together. "Perhaps you should investigate the veracity of this claim, dear sister?"
"I shall do that, brother. Hera, would you like to accompany me?"
"Of course. I have something I need to check on, anyway."
The two women vanished, which left Audrey with the brooding king of the gods.
Zeus pressed his fingertips together and frowned at her from under bushy eyebrows. He stared at her so long she struggled not to squirm, and the gleam in his eyes made her wish she could cross her arms over her breasts.
Finally, he spoke. "You have gotten yourself mixed up with a rather interesting crowd, young human."
"I guess so, sir."
"You have made the acquaintance of a dragon, a Truth Seeker, and gods only know what else. You are obviously a dream weaver, yet your talent is untrained, and you have no Spirit Guide."
Audrey ground her teeth so as not to defend herself. She sensed he wanted an argument. "Do you know where I may find it? Sir?"
Zeus dismissed her question with a wave of his hand. "That is beyond my control. I am curious to know how you insinuated yourself into the company of supernatural beings and ended up bound like a little hog on a warehouse floor."
"You know where I am?"
"I can see the reflection of what you've seen in your eyes."
Her mouth dried, and she hoped that he wouldn't zap her for her impertinence, but she was desperate. "Then can you release me or send help?"
He chuckled, but his answer didn't give her any hope. "That is your task, young Dreamer. I hope we are better matched when we meet again."
He vanished, and she woke with his unpleasant laughter ringing in her ears.
"Who were you talking to?" asked Nimue.
"No one. I'm surprised you're still here."
"I tried to crawl out the door, but the men are still out there."
"Which men?"
Nimue lowered her voice. "The ones who want to do terrible things to us."
Audrey scraped her tongue against her bottom teeth to get some moisture in her mouth, which had suddenly gone dry, and her heart echoed in her brain again. "What kinds of things?"
"I heard them talking about it. They want to torture us. For pleasure. They're arguing now with the vampires about who gets who first."
Audrey closed her eyes. Better matched, indeed. What if I don't get out of this alive? But why am I here to begin with?
She looked at Nimue, who had her head turned toward the door to hear the conversation outside. She took a deep breath.
"I'm going to try to reach someone. I don't know if this will work."
Nimue nodded, still not looking at her. "Hurry, there isn't much time."
Audrey found it difficult to fall asleep with her heart pounding in her throat. Think about the fun parts of the day, she told herself, and the kiss in the patrol car came to mind. She couldn't help it—her lips curled into a smile.
"At least one of us can smile," Nimue grumbled. "Aren't you supposed to be going for help?"
"Hush, I'm trying."
"You're pursing your lips like someone will kiss you," the nymph persisted. "I am not a follower of the cult of Lesbos."
"And I'm not thinking about you." Audrey returned her mind to the kiss and focused on Damien's gray eyes and how they'd lost some of their guarded expression with her. Again, she felt like she floated, but this time with no clear sensations.
"Damien… Maggie… Help!"
10
Damien sat at Charlie's desk and traced the kidnappers' possible routes of escape on a map of Decatur, Stone Mountain, and the various small areas between them and downtown Atlanta itself. The chances of finding Audrey alive dwindled with every ticking second, but Damien couldn't give up.
"Dude, take a break," Charlie said. His eyes also showed the strain from poring over the maps and trying to find hiding places where the vampires—were they really vampires? Charlie hadn't seemed surprised when Damien had proposed the idea—would be able to stay out of the sun during the day. There were just too many possibilities. They had to narrow it down somehow, or it would take a year to find her.
"I need to get some air." Damien rubbed his eyes, which he knew must be red.
"You need sleep. Lay down for a few minutes on the couch. I'll keep working on this."
"I can't afford to sleep." But his body told him he couldn't afford not to. The effort of raising his eyelids increased exponentially with each blink.
"Sometimes sleeping can help you solve sticky problems," Charlie pointed out. "And it will definitely keep you from faceplanting on my maps. Seriously, dude, rest."
"You sound like Arthur," Damien grumbled, but that meant he couldn't argue. And they were both right—Damien often came up with creative solutions after sleeping on a tricky question. Giving up, Damien took his friend's suggestion and stretched out on the sofa in the corner of Charlie's office.
Before Damien had time to wonder how Charlie rated such a perk, sleep descended on him like a heavy blanket.
But not a warm one.
Cold raindrops pelted Damien's head and soaked through his shirt. He stood on the front steps of the station and gazed out into the deserted night. Shadows moved at the corners of his vision, and he knew they meant trouble.
Damien walked down the steps and leapt over the small stream of water that always flowed by the stairs when it rained. Instead of landing on the sidewalk in front of the police station, he faced a row of warehouses. The shadows were thicker here, and he ducked behind a tree and watched.
"Damien," the wind whispered.
"Who's there?" he replied.
"Damien," it said again, his own name a cold tongue that licked his ear. He shivered. This is not a normal dream.
"Damien, come inside."
He followed the voice and walked into the first warehouse. The shadows clustered especially thick in there, but they didn't move, and he inferred that they couldn't see him. A faint glow lured him toward the back of the building. On the way, he noted large crates with numbers and letters stenciled on them. He could barely make out two words in chipping white paint: Avondale Lumber.
The glow took him between two cartons, where Audrey lay bathed in light along with the first girl he'd rescued from the street. Both had bruises on their arms like they had been handled roughly, but they were both alive, just asleep.
"Damien," Audrey murmured. He knelt down and brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead.
"I'm here, Audrey," he said. "I just need to know where here is." He pressed his lips to her cheek, and she smiled.
He hated to leave her, but he needed to know more about the warehouse than that it held Avondale Lumber crates. He walked back outside, careful to avoid the shadows, which stirred when he passed. He crept around the buildings and, across the street, spotted some sort of conveyor device and large piles of rocks.
Of course. The steel plant at Ponce and Clarendon. The women are stowed in a nearby warehouse.
He turned back toward Decatur, stretched out his hands, and imagined himself back on Charlie's couch at the police station. He woke when he landed on the floor.
"Are you okay? That wasn't much of a nap." Charlie ran to help him up. "You were twitching, moaning, and talking the whole time."
Damien almost shoved him out of the way to get to the map. "I know where they are."
The vise-like grip of cold fingers on her arm jolted Audrey awake from a dream about Damien. She found herself in the clawed hands of a creature that made the gargoyles from Bistro Moderne look like teddy bears. It stared at her with wide round eyes the color of mucous, and its sharp teeth dripped with something slimy. Patches of dark gray fur clung to its pocked gray-brown skin.
"Where is he?" it asked.
The foul breath of the creature made her cough and splutter, bringing her into the reality of where she was. "Who?"
"The man who was just here."
"There was no man." She tried to twist away from creature's stench. "It was only a dream."
"You said a name."
"I don't remember." She gasped when it flung her back to the floor, and she landed on her left shoulder. She was able to avert her face so she didn't break her nose, but the impact jolted her collarbone, and waves of pain and nausea washed over her.
"We should just eat 'em," sa
id another voice.
"Wait 'til day, when we turn back into men. Then we can have some fun with them."
"Awww, look, you broke it."
Audrey tried to ignore the laughter and focused on taking deep, soothing breaths. She stopped writhing in pain and pictured it as being separate from her, in its own envelope. Like she had with other pain, physical and emotional. The continued conversation of the creatures interrupted her efforts.
"The boss says we can do what we want with that one," said the first one. "I can break it if I wanna break it."
"I still think we should eat it."
A shadow covered Audrey. Nimue.
"Oh, not you, pet," the second being crooned. It not-so-gently nudged the nymph out of the way. "The boss wants you as you are. He's got a special thing for you to do."
"Don't hurt her," Audrey said, and the creature kicked her.
"And what about you?"
The pain seared her consciousness such that she was hardly aware of what she was saying. "Please untie me. It hurts so much."
"It hurts, does it?"
"Please untie my arms."
"What the hell? She's not going anywhere."
The ropes released, and Audrey gasped as the bones ground together. She tried to overcome the pain again, but it was too strong. All she could do was rock and cradle her arm while praying that the creatures would do what they wanted quickly so she wouldn't have to suffer much longer.
"Damien," she whispered through the white-hot pain, his name the one bit of hope she had. Had he seen her? Would he rescue her? Her cheek tingled where he'd kissed her in her dream.
Audrey's scream tore through the early morning silence and confirmed Damien's dream vision.
"In there," he called to Charlie. He lifted his binoculars, but they didn't show him anything useful. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, but he had to wait for Charlie's command. He was out of his jurisdiction, and they had teamed up with a Dekalb County S.W.A.T. team.
The sky lightened to the east; sunrise would be soon. Charlie glanced at the sky, and with the appearance of the first ray of sun gave the word. The S.W.A.T. guys busted the doors open. Damien followed them around the crates he remembered so well from his dream. He found Audrey crumpled against one of them holding her left arm, and the other young woman shielded her from two creatures that looked like giant, lightly furred bats. The creatures spread their leathery wings and took off with angry screeches, only to be felled by silver bullets from Charlie's gun.
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