Dancing With Raven (The Young Shakespeareans Series)

by Rogers, S. G.

  Chase chuckled. “I had to gain their respect first in hand to hand combat with their best fighter. My victory left them impressed, but that’s really as far as I got. Raven saw for himself how much they don’t like Nephilim.”

  “Maybe we can use that to our advantage,” Ian mused. “If it comes down to it, the vamps might enjoy stopping a few rogue directors.”

  In all the plotting of moves and countermoves, Raven suddenly felt the focus on protecting Tori was getting blurred. “This is crazy!” he exclaimed. “We’ve got to get Tori out of L.A. That will thwart Birmingham’s plot completely.”

  “I think you’ll find all the airports and transportation hubs are being watched,” Chase said. “Obviously, Birmingham doesn’t want me foiling his plans. There were demon thugs waiting for me when I flew into LAX, but I shook them off.”

  “They can’t be watching every road out of the city. I can put Tori on the back of my bike and drive her into the mountains or out to the desert,” Raven said.

  “Pay cash when you stop for gas or food so nobody can track you,” Chase said.

  Ian nodded. “All right, that’s our contingency plan.”

  “I’ll talk to her tomorrow at school and make the arrangements,” Raven said. “If we leave a day before Tori’s birthday and return the day after, Birmingham can’t use her in a blood sacrifice.”

  “If that’s what he intends,” Ian said. “Don’t forget, he’s made no preparations to return to L.A., as far as I know.”

  “In the meantime, I’ll introduce you to Oliver,” Chase said. “If you can convince them to join you, the vampires could help quell any possible demon riots.”

  Almost as soon as he finished speaking, a heavy rolling garbage bin shot out into the street, right into Ian’s path. Although he managed to brake in time to avoid a collision, the bin crashed into a parked truck and blocked the road. On the sidewalk, a reed-thin demon jumped up and down in glee.

  “Idiot poltergeist.” Raven opened his car door. “I’ll move the bin.”

  Chase unbuckled his seat belt. “I’ll help.”

  The demon yelled insults and curses as the two young men exited the car and rolled the bin to one side. Although Raven ignored the verbal abuse, he could not ignore the plastic trash can lid whizzing past his head. He reached inside his jacket for a throwing star and turned toward the poltergeist. “That’s enough out of you. Macbeth.”

  With a howl, the demon came at a run—straight into the point of Raven’s throwing star. As the creature exploded into a cloud of dry dust, the wail was extinguished. Except it wasn’t. Oddly enough, the sound had multiplied and was coming from all directions. Bewildered, Raven stared at Chase, whose face mirrored his confusion.

  “What’s happening?” Chase exclaimed.

  Raven’s exaggerated shrug didn’t begin to address his puzzlement. He scooped up his throwing star just as Ian stepped from the car. “Lads, we’ve got to go!”

  Demons of all kinds were streaming toward them, from in between houses and out of sewer drains. The creatures were even running along power lines. Chase and Raven dove into the car and Ian floored the gas pedal.

  “Seat belts,” he said through gritted teeth.

  A loud thump hit the roof, and Chase uttered something in Japanese that sounded like a curse. A hideous demon face appeared upside down on the front windshield, staring straight at Raven. When Ian slammed on the brakes, the creature lost its grip on the roof and tumbled forward off the hood and onto the pavement.

  “Punch it!” Raven yelled.

  His father gripped the steering wheel. “Hold on!”

  The car’s acceleration pressed Raven back into his seat. Thereafter, Ian mowed down any demon in his path. When another shadow world denizen jumped on the roof, Chase rolled down his window and killed the creature with a swipe of his katana. As the car finally cleared the crowd of demons, Ian’s face was drawn and a sheen of moisture was visible on his brow. The car tires squealed as he turned onto the Hollywood freeway onramp. The immediate danger was behind them, but Raven began to vibrate with anxiety. “I had no idea that would happen. I almost got us killed just to slay a stupid poltergeist.”

  “I can’t believe all those demons could hear you.” Chase’s voice sounded shaky. “You barely spoke above a whisper.”

  “There are just too many shadow world creatures here to risk using the Scottish play. I’ve never witnessed anything quite like this.” Ian took a deep breath and eased back on the accelerator.

  “Birmingham is off his rocker if he thinks flooding the world with demons is a good idea,” Raven said. “There aren’t enough Nephilim in existence to deal with them.”

  “It seems we have little choice but to contact Oliver Fairchild,” Ian said. “We’ll need vampire help to stamp out this infestation.”

  A shudder wracked Raven’s body as he remembered the demon glaring at him through the windshield. I’m certain to have nightmares now. As they sped along the freeway, he glanced back at the city. Long plumes of black smoke were rising toward the sky in several places, as if Los Angeles had been hit by a meteor shower. “How strange. There are fires in three—no, four different places.”

  “Maybe it’s because of the Santa Ana winds. It’s been very dry of late,” Ian said.

  “Santa Anas are also called devil winds,” Chase said. “I think the city is beginning to come apart.”

  Back at Blackfriars, Mrs. Trumbull set out a Sunday breakfast buffet of scrambled eggs, crisp thick-cut bacon, porridge, scones, and sliced fresh fruit. Despite a relatively good night’s sleep, Felicia was on edge. She brought her laptop to the dining room table and read an online newspaper while she ate. Fletcher nibbled several pieces of bacon in a row like a rabbit, making little crunching noises with his teeth. Finally she glared at him. “What in blazes are you doing?”

  “I’m bored and I want attention. Raven’s gone off somewhere with his father and there’s nobody to pick on.”

  “I’m busy.”

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to read at the table?”

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to point out when someone is being rude? Besides which, I’m not reading for pleasure. I’m looking at local crime stories.”

  He rested his chin in his hand. “Fascinating. When did you get so mesmerized by the lurid?”

  “I want to see if crime has increased due to the heavy concentration of demons.”

  “And?”

  “Not only has it increased, but it’s become an epidemic. As they possess people, there’s been a surge in unexplained vandalism and mob violence.”

  “Has anyone speculated why?”

  “Excessive number of sun spots, the full moon, and general anxiety due to increased seismic activity.” She shrugged. “Next they’ll be blaming the water or bed bugs.”

  “Maybe I’ll write a letter to the editor and tell them the truth. I’ll sign it with your name, of course.”

  Her retort died on her lips when she heard the sound of people coming into the house through the garage.

  “Oh, good, Raven’s back,” Fletcher said. “He’s much easier to tease than you are.”

  Moments later, Ian and Raven appeared in the dining room doorway, along with an unexpected guest. Felicia’s eyes widened.

  “Good morning,” Ian said. “I believe you’ve met Chase Oshiro? He’ll be staying with us for a little while.”

  As Chase’s gaze rested on her, Felicia suddenly became aware she hadn’t bothered to comb her hair or wash her face. Furthermore, she was wearing a scanty pajama top decorated with pink ladybugs. Why did he have to catch me looking like this?

  “Raven, could you show Chase to one of the bedrooms upstairs? Then you two can come down for breakfast.” He glanced at the line of chafing dishes. “It looks as if Mrs. Trumbull made enough food to feed an army.”

  As Raven ushered Chase toward the stairs, Ian picked up a plate and began to fill it at the buffet. Felicia bit her lip. “
Mr. Cassidy, how long will Chase be here?”

  “As long as he wishes.” He lowered his voice. “Until this crisis passes, he’s got nowhere else to go.”

  Bloody Hell! Thereafter, Ian said something about a demon horde in Hollywood, but Felicia wasn’t listening. I won’t stay in the same house with a man who besmirches my grandfather’s reputation! No matter how much I want to break into films, it isn’t worth it. I’ll return to England until the end of term and decide whether to come back to L.A. then. The time on her laptop read a little after nine o’clock, which put London time at early evening. If she were lucky, she would be able to reach her grandfather by phone.

  She closed her laptop and stood. “Um, excuse me, please.”

  Although Fletcher gave her a puzzled glance, she ignored it. She hastened to her room, and pulled out her cell. As her grandfather’s number rang, she held her breath. Fortunately, he picked up. “Felicia! How are you?”

  “Grandpapa, I want to come home. This was a mistake.” Her words came out in a rush.

  “Has someone been unkind to you?”

  “No, it’s not that at all.” She cast about for an excuse that would sound plausible. “I-I’m just homesick. Could you have your secretary arrange for my ticket?”

  “Sweetheart, why don’t you stay for a little while longer? I’m traveling back to Los Angeles at the end of the month, and we’ll talk about it then.”

  What? No! Her knees suddenly felt weak and she sank down on the bed. “You’re coming here? Why?”

  “I’m bringing several Shakespearean Institute directors with me.”

  Her heart began to hammer inside her chest. “What’s going on, Grandpapa?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about, Felicia. We think it’s time to establish a Los Angeles branch of the Institute.”

  Her stomach began to roil. “I see. Can’t it wait until summer?”

  “We’re under a bit of a time crunch, actually. Listen, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anyone about this. The directors and I have booked rooms at a hotel, and I don’t want Ian to feel slighted in any way. Thirteen additional house guests are simply too much for anyone to manage, especially with a small staff.”

  “I won’t say anything.”

  “Good.”

  “I’ll talk to you when you get here then.”

  “I’ll call you when I get to town. Everything else all right? You sound strained.”

  “Perfect. Good-bye, Grandpapa.”

  After Felicia rung off, she dropped the phone on the quilted comforter covering her bed. Could Chase be right that her grandfather was the mastermind of a wicked plot to reveal the shadow world? The evidence seemed incontrovertible; not only were the Shakespearean Institute directors coming to Los Angeles, they were doing so in secrecy. Her hand pressed to her mouth and she ran to the bathroom to throw up.

  His brush with hordes of crazed demons had given Raven an appetite. Apparently Chase’s appetite had been whetted as well because he went back to fill his plate more than once. Mrs. Trumbull produced a platter full of hot crispy powdered sugar-dusted Belgium waffles to supplement the feast, and refilled the chafing dish of bacon. Fletcher beamed as he poured maple syrup over his waffle. “I’m going to have to work out twice as long this afternoon to burn off these calories,” he said cheerfully.

  Raven remembered his mad dash to the relative safety of his father’s car earlier that morning. “You’d better add sprinting to your regimen.”

  “I think we should all be at the top of our game,” Ian said.

  Fifteen minutes later, Felicia returned to the dining room and slid into a chair. She’d dressed and had apparently taken a shower because her hair looked somewhat damp. Her eyes were red-rimmed as if she’d been crying, and her face bore no traces of makeup. Raven was taken aback at her appearance. I can’t remember the last time I saw her without makeup. Chase seemed to be taken aback as well; he couldn’t stop staring.

  Fletcher glanced up from his waffle and his smile faded. “Are you all right?”

  “No. I’ve had distressing news.”

  As she struggled to continue, Raven put down his fork and waited. If Felicia was too upset to speak, something was horribly wrong.

  “I called Grandpapa just now. He’s bringing the Institute directors with him to L.A. at the end of the month.” She swallowed hard. “And he asked me not to tell you.”

  Silence reigned for several long seconds.

  “Blazes,” Fletcher muttered.

  “I’m sorry,” Chase said. “I know you were hoping I was wrong.”

  “I’m still not one hundred percent convinced, but it doesn’t look good,” she replied. “He said he wanted to establish an Institute chapter here, but the timing is suspicious, to say the least.”

  “We’ve no choice now but to seek an alliance with the vampires,” Ian said. “Chase, can you arrange a meeting with Oliver Fairchild?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “I want to go with you to the meeting,” Felicia said.

  Chase’s eyes seemed to flash with annoyance. “Can’t wait to flirt with danger again, can you?”

  “Maybe he’s right, Felicia. Oliver fancied you an awful lot,” Fletcher said.

  “I can handle him.”

  “You’re so utterly naïve,” Chase muttered.

  Her chin lifted. “You don’t know me at all.”

  “And at the rate you’re going, I might never have the chance!” He gave Ian an apologetic glance. “Excuse me for shouting.”

  “It’s all right,” Ian said. “You should feel free to speak your mind here.”

  “Chase, you told Oliver last night I was your girlfriend,” Felicia said. “You’ll just have to hold your nose at the meeting and go on pretending you’re attracted to me.” She flounced off.

  A muscle worked in Chase’s jaw as he stood. “Mr. Cassidy, you mentioned I could call my mother?”

  Ian rose. “Yes, of course. You can use the phone in my office. I’ll show you where it is.”

  “After I let her know I’m all right, I’ll call Oliver’s people to arrange a meeting.”

  Ian escorted Chase from the room. Moments later, Fletcher pushed back from the table.

  “What a nightmare this has become. I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my appetite.”

  He left, and Raven found himself alone at the table. He chewed another piece of bacon, but his heart wasn’t in it. Although he would never admit it to anyone, the morning’s misadventure had shaken him badly. We aren’t just trying to prevent an Apocalypse, we’re preparing for war.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Oliver Fairchild

  SUNDAY AFTERNOON WAS WANING when Tori noticed snowfall outside her window. That’s impossible! It must be in the upper seventies today! She ran to look through the glass and realized it wasn’t snow at all, but fine white ash. The Santa Ana winds were causing havoc again…a frequent occurrence in Southern California. Fires from miles away would produce ash that settled over everything and made it difficult to breathe. She returned to her desk to finish an essay for history, only to be called downstairs by Misty. The older woman’s eyes were watering and she held a tissue to her nose.

  “I just heard on the news the air quality will be bad for days. There are fires all over the city, including in Griffith Park.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “You know how these Santa Ana winds bring out the fire bugs. Anyway, my plastic surgeon in Brazil sent me an email a few days ago saying he had an opening if I wanted it, so I’m flying down to Rio tomorrow for a lift. Anya will have a month off while I’m recuperating. When I return, you’ll be able to bounce a quarter off my skin.”

  Snicker. “You’re lovely just as you are, you know.”

  “Yes, well, there’s always room for improvement. Is there a friend you could stay with while I’m gone?”

  The image of Blackfriars flashed into Tori’s mind. How fortuitous! “Um…yes, I can stay with Felicia. How lo
ng will you be away?”

  “Everything depends on how fast I heal. You have the key to the house, so perhaps you could water the plants every so often?”

  “Of course. What time do you leave tomorrow? I’ll drive you to the airport.”

  “That’s sweet of you, but you’ll be in school. Don’t worry, I’ll arrange for a shuttle to pick me up.”

  Tori returned to her bedroom, relieved at the turn of events. She’d been wondering how to justify several days’ absence at the end of the month to her foster mother. Now I won’t have to lie. As a bonus, Misty will be out of danger. Before she resumed typing her essay, she sent a text to Raven to let him know what had transpired. She couldn’t suppress a smile and a little thrill of excitement at the thought of staying at Blackfriars. When she glanced out the window, however, the ominous, ash-darkened sky sent a shiver down her spine. Maybe I can begin training to fight demons. It looks as if the good guys need all the help they can get.

  On his fifth wind sprint, Raven pushed himself to finish another mile at top speed before dialing down the treadmill to a gentle jog. As a Nephilim, he was blessed with superior physical capabilities, reflexes, and healing power, but how fast and how long would he have to run to outdistance a pack of demons? The underworld was belching out denizens with every earthquake, and he wondered whose black magic was responsible. If I could find that warlock and stop him, I could stanch the flow of demons.

  Fletcher and Felicia entered the gym. Fletcher headed directly for the weight machines, but his sister mounted the treadmill next to Raven and began to stretch. Her usual ebullient sparkle was missing and he began to feel sorry for her. Before he could say anything, she spoke.

  “Your cell phone is going off.”

  Could that be Tori? He punched the stop button on his treadmill and lunged for his cell. His eyebrows lifted as he read the text message. “Ha! Apparently Tori’s foster mother is leaving for Rio tomorrow and won’t be back for several weeks. In the meantime, Tori will be staying with us.”

  He mopped his face with a towel, grinning with anticipation. It will be great to have her so close!