The next moment, a huge explosion rocked the forest, and a fireball billowed up from the clearing. I flinched but managed to keep my mouth shut. Jeez! Jimbo hadn’t been kidding when he said he was going to shake things up!
Immediate pandemonium erupted from the group of thieves. All four men headed back for the clearing, but Oliver remained, still nosing around the copse. Damn it! What was I supposed to do now? I held my breath. He was less than a yard away. And then my cell phone in my back pocket rang. Hell and high water! I fumbled with it, but not before Oliver had honed in on the noise.
“Emerald? Emerald? You might as well come out now. I know you’re in there.” His voice showed no sign that he’d been shaken by the explosion. “I’m going to find you in a few minutes; it’ll be easier if you just come out now.” He was edging into the copse of birch when the sound of sirens began to wail in the distance. Murray, I thought. It must be Murray! Without a doubt, I knew she was on her way, but could she make it in time?
“Shit!” I could see Oliver turn toward the clearing, listening to the sirens, and it dawned on me that he probably had the dragon with him. This was my last chance. If he escaped, we’d be stuck with the curse. So would he, actually, but that was of little comfort. I leapt out of the trees, aiming directly for his back. He let out a sharp grunt, wavered a moment, then fell with me right on top of him.
“What the fuck—” he twisted around, shifting position under me. I knew he had a gun, but I couldn’t see if it was still in his hand. I tried to pin his arms, to hold him
facedown, but his muscles were wiry, and he managed to roll over, taking me with him. His hands were empty; the gun must have been knocked out of his grasp when I hit him.
“You wanted me to show myself. Well, here I am!” I rammed my knee toward his groin, but he was too quick, moving aside as I aimed my leg straight toward his blue boys. Before he could grab me again, I rolled and came up into a crouch. Wow! Sometimes the action hero stunts actually worked!
“Don’t make this hard on yourself or the kid.” Oliver was on his feet, too, skirting the perimeter of our tree-lined arena.
I circled with him, gaze darting to the forest floor. Where the hell was his gun? If he found it before I did, he’d kill me and then go after Kip. And then I remembered; I had a weapon! I yanked out the switchblade and flicked it open. So I didn’t know how to use it, at least it might make him think twice about jumping me.
Oliver saw the glint of the blade and hesitated. That brief pause was all I needed. I plunged at him, screaming. He dove to the side and immediately started scrambling forward on his hands and knees, gaze fastened on something near one of the maidenhair ferns buttressed up against an ancient fir tree. The gun, there, a few yards in front of him. Maybe I could get it before he did. I tossed the knife away and threw myself toward the base of the tree, sailing through midair to land on my belly, right next to the revolver.
“No you don’t!” Oliver was almost within reach as I grabbed the revolver and scrabbled to my feet. He came up, eyes blazing as I whirled and took aim. I’d never held a gun before, never even wanted to hold a gun, but now I homed in on him and waited as he charged.
He caught sight of the revolver, targeted at his heart. As he flailed, trying to stop, his boot caught on a branch, and he went sprawling to the ground, screaming as he landed.
Not sure just what had happened, I cautiously circled him until I was far enough away to avoid his hands but close enough to be sure the bullet would hit him if I had to shoot.
“You’d better stay right where you are, because if I have to pull this trigger, I might just hit something a little more important than your leg. Now, where’s the dragon?” The sound of sirens whirred into the clearing. “Tell me! Now!”
Oliver moaned and forced himself into a sitting position. The switchblade was jutting out of his shoulder, embedded deep in the muscle. Blood poured down the side of his shut, soaking his clothes and pooling on the ground below, “hi my pocket.” He grunted, doubling over with pain.
I motioned for him to move his hands away from the knife. “Don’t touch that knife! Leave it right where it is, or that stab wound will feel like a walk in the park next to a bullet hole.”
A sudden movement diverted my attention as Jimbo stepped into the clearing. Oliver snatched the opportunity and fumbled for the knife hilt. He had barely closed his fist around the handle before Jimbo was all over him. The biker grabbed the blade and yanked it none too gently out of Oliver’s shoulder.
Oliver was no match for Jimbo, and the fight was over in seconds as Jimbo pummeled him into the dirt. Moaning, the thief sat up, grimacing in pain. Besides the self-inflicted knife wound, he sported a double shiner and a broken nose. Jimbo looked relatively unscathed, except for singed eyebrows and a substantially shorter beard than he’d had half an hour ago. I knew that little makeover hadn’t come from the fight.
The smell of smoke filtered through the forest, and I coughed, trying to clear my lungs. How bad was the fire? Was it coming our way? “Give me the dragon!” I waved the gun at Oliver.
Oliver cautiously reached into a blood-soaked pocket and pulled out the jade dragon. Jimbo grimaced as he took it and handed it to me. The statue was covered in warm, sticky liquid. “Eww,” he said. “You sure you want this?”
I nodded, accepting the blood-soaked statue. I tried to give Jimbo the gun in exchange, but he wouldn’t touch it.
“You gotta be kidding,” he said. “If I’m packing when the cops get here, they’ll be all over my butt.”
I was about to answer when a sudden flurry of wind swept through the stand of birches as a tree limb sailed past my head. I ducked as the bough crashed next to Jimbo. Another gust sent a second branch skyward, and a low roar began to echo through the forest. The noise rebounded off the trunks of the trees to form a cadence, a rat-a-tat-tat of thumps that sounded like nothing less than a machine gun. I stared at the dragon; it had begun to vibrate. I tried to keep hold of both it and the gun, but a brilliant shaft of lightning shot forth from the eyes of the statue, and I flung the dragon to the ground and covered my face from the blinding flash.
The wind howled as I peeked through my fingers, my eyelids still dancing with spots from the afterglow of the fiery light. Jimbo was on the ground, holding Oliver down to make sure he didn’t get away, but the biker’s eyes radiated with fear, and I didn’t know how long he’d last before he bolted.
As we stared at the spot where I’d thrown the statue, a sparkling crimson mist coiled up from its jade eyes. The mist hovered for a moment, then drifted out to encircle the tree-dappled arena, tendrils aiming toward us.
“Don’t breathe, don’t move,” I whispered. Jimbo caught my gaze and nodded just enough to show that he’d heard me.
The mist traced a line along my cheek, silken fingers searching, probing for a host. I remembered a game I’d played with my sister when we were children and willed myself to become a living sculpture, a queen of ice in this woodland kingdom. Just as Rose and I’d played for jelly beans when we were children, now I played for higher stakes. I thrust myself out on the astral. There it was—not a living being, but an energy, searching for a new home. Whoever moved first, lost.
One minute stretched into five. I could see Jimbo and Oliver, both frozen, staring terrified at the crimson haze. My muscles were throbbing, I didn’t know how much longer I could stand like this; another moment, and I’d lose control. A second cramp rippled through my calf, and I clenqhed my teeth. Hold on, hang on just one more minute. Focus on my breath, breathe in with the cramp and exhale the pain.
And then, just as my strength began to waver, the mist pulled back. Unable to locate a proper host, it twisted into a vortex and began to spin. The miniature tornado whirled faster and faster, and then—with an ear-piercing shriek— spiraled into the sky. The blood on the dragon sizzled to a boil and burst into flames. Just as quickly as the fire appeared, it vanished, leaving only a fine ash to cover the jade. The breeze raci
ng through the copse caught up the ash and it, too, soared into the night and was gone. I slumped to the ground, every muscle in my body aching. It was over. The curse was broken.
“What the fuck just happened?” Oliver asked, his voice laced with pain.
I let out a tremendous sigh. “Something that should have happened five hundred years ago.”
Jimbo’s gaze never left my face. “Shit! You’d give my granny a run for her money. You really are a hoodoo woman, aren’t you? Remind me not to mess with you again!” He pointed toward Oliver. “If the show’s over, we could use some rope to truss this guy up. Isn’t there some out where they tied up your kid?”
My kid. Kip! I called out, “Kip! Kip! It’s okay, you can come on out now.” Within seconds, my son answered as he found his way over to the birch grove. I raced to him, dropping to my knees as he threw himself in my arms. “Kip, we’re safe now, honey. Everything’s going to be okay!”
His eyes grew wide when he took in the scene, with Jimbo holding down Oliver, and the dragon back in my hands. Another round of sirens sounded from the clearing. “It’s all over?” Kip asked. “Really?”
I nodded. “Yep, it’s all over, bud. It sounds like the police are out there, doesn’t it? We caught Oliver, and I broke the dragon’s curse. The statue’s clear.”
He buried his face in my shoulder, and we stood there for a moment till Jimbo cleared his throat. “Not that it matters, but my arms are going to sleep.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, of course.”
I started back for the clearing, but at that moment, my cell phone rang again. This time, I answered, and Murray’s voice rang out, loud and clear. “Em, are you okay? Where are you? We’re out here in the meadow. We’ve found the van, but where are you?”
“In the woods.” Feeling an ambiguous mix of relief, exhaustion, and bewilderment, I gave her our approximate position. “Hurry up, and don’t forget your handcuffs.”
“We’ll be right in.”
Within minutes, Murray led Sandy, Greg, and Deacon through the woods. She eyed our motley group and quizzically turned to me. “You look like a mud rat.”
hi the glow of their high-beam flashlights, I glanced down at myself. Yep. Wearing Jimbo’s oversized black leather jacket, covered with dirt and branches and moldy old leaves from my scuffle with Oliver, I looked like I’d just emerged from some highland bog. My ankles were beginning to itch; I’d probably lucked out and landed in an anthill.
Utterly exhausted, I leaned against the nearest tree I could find as Kip raced over to Murray and threw his arms around her, mouth running full steam as he poured out his story. She listened for a moment, then gently hushed him. “You keep track of what happened, okay? We have to take a statement from you, but we’ll do that down at the station in a little while.”
Kip wrinkled his nose. “Cool. Hey, Mom broke the curse on the dragon!”
Murray glanced at me. “Did you really?”
I nodded. “I don’t ever want to go through that again.” Now my hands were stinging; I rubbed them on my jeans, but it felt like little barbs of fire were digging in to the flesh.
“I wish I’d been here,” Kip said, pouting a little.
She put her arm around his shoulder and walked him over to Deacon. “Well, how about you tell me the whole story in a little bit? Right now I need to talk to your mom, okay? Deacon, can you take Kip out to the cruiser and get him into a warm blanket?”
Deacon motioned for Kip to take his hand. “C’mon buddy. Can you walk or do you want a piggyback ride? You’ve had a hard night.” Kip took his hand and they headed out toward the clearing.
Murray walked over to Oliver as Greg and Sandy were handcuffing him. She searched in his pocket until she found his wallet. ‘Take him out and read him his rights.”
Before I had the chance to thank him again, Jimbo blew me a kiss and winked as he followed them. “See ya later, babe. You put on one hell of a good show. Maybe you’re all right after all.”
Murray raised her eyebrows and looked back at me.
“Hmm, interesting.” Then she opened Oliver’s wallet and flipped through it. My stomach twisted, and I began to feel a little dizzy. “Just as I thought,” she said, her voice echoing as if from through a long tunnel.
“What? What did you say?” I could hear her words, but they didn’t make sense to me, they were full of static.
“This guy isn’t Oliver.”
“What? Of course it’s Oliver.” What was she talking about? I didn’t understand.
She shook her head. “No, Em. Oliver’s dead. They found his body down in Vancouver.”
“Dead? That can’t be. If Oliver’s dead, then who the hell just tried to kill me?” Confused, I tried to focus on what she was saying. Something was very wrong. “Murray?”
“Em? Em? Are you okay?”
I couldn’t see her anymore, the forest was spinning around, and I was at the center of the twister. “Murray, I think I’m dying,” I said.
“What? Em, what’s going on?” Her words fluttered on drifting leaves, and everything began to cave in on itself.
And then, the world went black.
Fifteen
I OPENED MY eyes to find myself stretched out in a hospital bed, florescent lights glaring down at me. My legs burned; or maybe they itched. I couldn’t tell which by this point. “Kip, where’s Kip?”
Murray leaned over me, eyes narrowed as she examined my face. “He’s okay, Em. He’s fine. White Deer took both kids back to my place. They’ll stay with me until you’re feeling better.”
“What happened?” I was having trouble staying focused long enough to speak.
She rested her hand on my shoulder. “You had a bad allergic reaction. You landed in a patch of stinging nettle while you were fighting Ced … Oliver. When the toxin hit your bloodstream, it sent your blood pressure plummeting. You fainted.”
I tried to pay attention to what she was saying. “Am I going to be okay?”
“You’ll be okay. You just need to rest. The doctor gave you some medicine, and it’s making you woozy. The kids are just fine, so you go back to sleep now. Okay?”
My mouth didn’t want to work. I nodded. Blink... back to the darkness again.
THE CLOCK ON the wall read one p.m. as Doc Adams peeked through the door. He checked my blood pressure, temperature, looked at my chart. “You’re going to be just fine. You gave us a little scare, but a good shot of antihistamine took care of it. The welts on your legs are shrinking. Looks like the nettles were too much for your system, and you overdosed on the toxin. Allergies are often hereditary; since Randa has an allergy to shellfish, I want you to make an appointment in a week so we can check how these hives are healing and to schedule a set of diagnostic tests for you. Better check out Kip while we’re at it.”
Boy, that sounded like a load of laughs. “I’ll call Tissy next Monday and set up the appointments,” I said, leaning back against the pillows. “May I leave now? I’m so ready to get out of here. I want to see my kids.”
He signed the chart and draped his stethoscope around his neck. “Last night was quite a free-for-all, wasn’t it? Detective Murray told me what happened. She also asked me to remind you that she took your children home, and that both of them are fine as fiddle ferns. She’s out in the waiting room. I’ll let her know you’ll be ready to go in a little while. Why don’t you take a shower first; that way the nurse can reapply the cream on those sores before you go.”
He paused at the door and, with a grin, added, “I recommend you start working out if you intend to make a career out of crime fighting. You could use a little more muscle on those bones.”
I huffed, but he’d already disappeared, so I padded to the shower. The welts on my legs were about the size and shape of inflamed mosquito bites, and some of them were oozing a little. My hands were covered with weals the size of pencil erasers. It occurred to me that, if the hives had already started to shrink, I must have looked like death warmed over when they b
rought me in the night before. I scrubbed away the mud and dirt, letting out a shriek as the soap hit the hives. Damn, felt like I’d fallen into a wasps’ nest! Hopefully the walls in the bathroom were soundproof.
After I managed to catch my breath, I lathered the smell of smoke out of my hair and climbed out of the shower and toweled off, cautious around the open sores that covered my calves. The mirror affixed to the wall beckoned. Wincing, I dropped the towel and peeked. Jeez! I looked like some deranged Dalmatian, covered with red bumps, and black and blue bruises. No short hemlines anytime soon, that was for sure.
As I pulled on the flimsy robe the hospital provided and stepped out into my room, I found Murray, sitting on the bed, waiting. She jumped up, a smile creasing her worried face. “Em! You’re okay! Oh, I am so glad to see you up and around, girl. We were worried.”
I grabbed her, holding her tight. “Mur, I don’t ever want to go through a night like last night again. Doc said you have the kids?”
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