Purgatory (A Place Down Under Book 1)

by Stec, Susan

  That's true. Mothers are always right, more so if there's a nanny tickling their brain cells. Nan chuckles. And my two cents says your momma wears Jane. She's an ancient one, she is. Her powers are greater than yours, child.

  Nan floats up beside my mother, making a stand.

  "Ancient?" My mother looks down at the ghost.

  Well, certainly not on your death bed, honey chil', but you've seen some miles.

  "Like you haven't? Well, for a human, anyway. And I like to think of myself as—"

  "Enough!" I shout. "Why can't you wear Gracie and I wear Jane? I want to kill the bastard and share the glory with her!"

  I toss a death-threat look at my mother. Gracie probably doesn't wear it well.

  "Have you ever fought a doppelganger?" Mother asks. "Have you even seen a fight between two doppelgangers?"

  I don't answer. I try to muster up an adult stance and a bit of anger in Gracie's eyes. I'm sure it comes off as stubborn child.

  "I didn't think so," Mother says.

  She's probably not mocking me, but it sure feels like she is.

  "I have fought a demon's gaffe—it was a wicked battle, even with elder approval—and that doppelganger wasn't half as strong or evil as the one wearing a dragon-shifter assassin."

  I don't really see Mother's little foot tapping impatience, but I know it is. She stares me down. I look to Gaire for help.

  "Are you saying we need elder approval?" Gaire says. "We are not going to do that."

  Way to go, Gaire! I'm dancing under Gracie's skin.

  Mother says, "I am an elder, and I'm not only capable, but allowed to make a spontaneous decision based on the need to defend my guardian in a life-threatening situation."

  "Oh," I say, sounding like an adolescent teen. "Even if I'm wearing Jane?"

  "No." My mother shakes her head. "The doppelganger has seen you. Did it pass through your smoke after killing Jane?"

  I have to think. I playback the knife coming at us and Jane sprinkling around me on the drive, watching the dark guy take Jane's bullet, fall, and rush past me.

  "I'm not sure," I answer my mother. "Why?"

  Mom looks at Gaire. "Were you there?"

  Gaire nods. "He said, 'I'll be back for you,' and then he evaporated, blew through Luna while she shed Jane, and was gone."

  "Uck!" Gracie's body shudders, and I feel it to my smoky toes. Wearing a human can be disconcerting at times. I am experiencing my first gag reflex. I doubled up on him in the hotel room! I wore his host!"

  Child, that can't be good, Nan says.

  "That explains how he was able to fine you, Luna," Mother says. "It is how I follow you. When we are given a ward, we mingle with it. If you shed Gracie and don Jane, he will know it is you. The doppelganger will strip you of your host in seconds, latch on, and draw life force until you are no more, making it and the dragon it wears stronger. At that point, I'll probably not be able to save you." Mother looks at me, her garish mouth in a grimace. "But you can be damn sure that after you are gone, I will destroy them both, or die trying."

  "That's not going to happen," Gaire says and turns to me. "We'll have an advantage if we play this your mother's way."

  "Crap!" I am so not wanting my mother under Jane's skin. "Damnit, you've made your point. Fine, Mother! You win."

  And it's very grown up of you to notice, Nan jibes.

  "I am going to double up on someone, immediately," Mother says. "I'll meet you both at Nan's home in an hour. Together, we'll come up with a plan we can execute by tomorrow evening. Do you have a cell phone?"

  "You're doing an awful lot of doubling up, talking about cell phones, and now assisting actions you condemned me for just yesterday. What's up with that, Mother?"

  "One is never too old to learn, young lady. I hope you remember that."

  Gaire

  "I don't want anything to happen to Luna," I tell her mother.

  We're in the kitchen at Gracie's home. Nan and Luna are on a screened porch that wraps around the northwest side of the house. I can see them through a French door at the end of a small hall on the north side of the kitchen.

  "Neither do I," her mother answers with a guy's voice.

  She's doubled up on a Sumter Community College student. He looks about twenty, brown hair, freaky yellow eyes—might be contacts—and a stocky body that probably knows it's way around a gym. His name is Eric.

  "Another three hours until sunset. How much longer after that are we going to wait?"

  When Eric smiles, dimples pop on both cheeks. The All-American face definitely does not depict the murky creature dwelling beneath.

  "I'm leaving soon," Eric says. You're hangin' here until I text, and only if there's a selfie of Jane attached."

  "What if Vuur kills Jane before you get there?" I ask.

  "He won't kill Jane," Eric's double says. "I'll be dressed in her double before Vuur gets back from Purgatory, and the real Jane will be here, with you and my daughter. I've taken care of that. In fact my ride should be arriving any moment. I've commissioned two berserker friends to help."

  "How can you be so sure?" I ask. "Do you have a plan in case Vuur gets to Jane before you get there?"

  "The doppelganger is still in Purgatory." She raises Eric's cell phone. "These things are amazing. Who would've known?" Luna's mother laughs. "The doppelganger told one of the berserkers that he will proposition Jane later this evening. Only it will be me on Jane's corner tonight. And I feel quite confident he will hold her hostage until Luna show ups. My daughter's destruction is his ultimate goal."

  "I'll be with Luna, tonight," I say.

  "I'm sure Vuur is counting on it," Eric says in the same tone Luna's mother uses.

  "Do you mean the dragon-shifter is still alive?"

  "I don't think so. I was speaking of my brethren under the dragon-shifter's skin. But I wouldn't put it past your assassin to have worked a deal with the dark doppelganger for his life."

  The thought is disturbing. Then there would be two of them, the real Vuur and the carbon. I would have to deal with two of the beasts, and I couldn't kill one the first time. I bit him during that fight in Michigan, and I'd never run across any Down Under creature that is immune to my poison. To think that in less than a month, I've run into two. It makes me uncomfortable.

  A flash of reflected sunlight glides across the tiled floor. I glance down the hall at the back of the kitchen as Luna steps through; Nan probably follows. Not being able to hear or see the ghost is unnerving.

  "This wait is killing us," Luna says.

  She's wearing a patch of bright colored cloth across her chest with leather straps attached to cinch it to her neck and around her back. Low cut jeans sit several inches below the halter top and show off a tight tummy and gold navel ring. Her leather belt is hand tooled and threaded with bright colored beads that depict a rainbow sunset in the middle of her back. She's barefoot but there is a pair of leather thong sandals by the French door. I want to scoop her up and swallow her whole.

  "Me, too," I say, "but your mother is not leaving until nine, and through Eric has made it very clear we're not to move until she lets us know she's wearing Jane and standing on the corner of OBT."

  "That's because it's the smart thing to do," Luna says and then surprises the beast in me when she gifts Mommy Dearest with a lovely Gracie-smile.

  So why am I pretty damn sure there is a surfeit of unpleasant surprises hidden beneath her words?

  Gracie

  There are at least fifty ghosts floating all over the house. I'm going nuts with their constant chatter. Hands over my ears, and for the umpteenth time, I tell Gaire, "Because Nan said they can watch Jane and if something happens here, she'll send one of the ghosts to warn us. Nan is covering bases in case the doppelganger shows up for Jane."

  "Why are you shouting?" Gaire laughs and exaggerates a glance around the room. "I don't see anyone."

  "Okay, so I heard Eric tell you they're here. One more smartass remark, and I'm gonna s
pell your ass into the next millennium. I have the power. Don't make me use it."

  "You don't have any power," Gaire teases. "Gracie's grandmother does, and Nan is nurturing it."

  Damn him. He's about to burst with laughter.

  "Shut up!" I scream at the ghosts. And blessedly they do as Nan herds them into the kitchen.

  The screen door squeaks open seconds before the knocker on the front door bangs.

  As I walk toward the door, ghosts swarm me like a pack of blind mosquitoes in spring. Gaire watches me duck and jab, and he chuckles. He can't hear Nan shouting for the spirits to return and chuckles.

  I swing wildly and only manage to slice, dice, and mix body parts into a tornado that flutters everything in its path, including Gracie's hair which is now totally covering my face.

  "I want to kill something!" I shout, palms raking my face and fingers combing long hair back over Gracie's scalp.

  "Good," Gaire chokes out between laughter. "Hold that thought for the hotel. Right now, we need to deal with the two berserkers at the door with Jane. The real Jane."

  He pulls the door open in front of me, and I pfft fine hair from my face.

  "Wha's-a-matta with you sons-a-bitches? Eh? Eh? Were the hell am I? I could'a been nice. I would'a been more helpful, but no, youse bastards gotta get rough. Well, youse guys are fuckin' dyin' tonight, goddamnit!"

  Jane stumbles in, blindfolded. Her short leather skirt keeps flashing red silk and so does her low-cut halter top. Her blond, over-processed hair is sticking out above and below a blindfold. They should have gagged her.

  "Get your fuckin' greasy mutts off my goddamned arms, or I'm going to start biting again."

  Jane turns and, like a pup searching for a teat, finds the berserker on her left, latches onto his shirt sleeve, and shakes.

  The berserker, red hair flying, jerks his body around and pulls his clothes out of Jane's mouth. She stumbles and one of her barely street legal pumps slips off. As she hobbles to stand, one of the idiots makes the mistake of trying to right her. She gets in two very impressive side-kicks, sending him to his knees.

  "Damn her all to Hell," the berserker on his knees says. "I wouldn't get in a cage with her—bitch got a chunk of his ear and bit my damn crotch at the hotel." His hand rubbed the offended area.

  "No shit! Bitch says she's all up for a threesome, but she was packin'," the other guy adds. "Blew your mother's host to cinder."

  "Yeah," says the one who got his balls bit. "I was never happier than to see your Mom suck a double out of her."

  Both berserkers laugh.

  "Your Mom jumped her like a stalking demon-cat," the other one says. "Then it was blessedly quiet until ten minutes ago when the bitch woke up."

  As one berserker grabs Jane's kicking feet, and the other her upper body, I say, "Take her to the cellar, first door in the hall at the end of the kitchen." I point at the door on the other side of the dining room.

  The two berserkers and a shitload of ghosts head that way.

  A breath of relief catches in my throat when a crash and the tinkle of broken glass comes from the kitchen.

  "There goes the daisies," I say.

  Gaire's phone trills.

  "And, here's Mommy!" Gaire says, poking the cell screen. "She's still wearing Jane, and will be leaving the Ambassador hotel to head back to her favorite street corner in thirty minutes. If she's not on the corner when we get there, she'll be waiting with Vuur in room two-oh-seven, because she said she's not picking up any more tricks tonight."

  I don't even want to go where that sentence can take me.

  TWENTY THREE

  Gracie

  An hour after the call from Mom, we're parked behind a sage-green Jeep, two cars from the corner across the street from Jane's.

  "She's not there, damn it! She's not on her corner," I tell Gaire, grabbing the door handle.

  Gaire snags me by Gracie's hair, stopping me dead in my tracks.

  "That hurt." I let Gracie's lower lip tremble.

  "Well, then don't go crazy and have me making impulsive moves to save our mission." He looks at the corner in question. "Are you sure that's her corner? Who's the redhead?"

  "I don't know the redhead." I rub my scalp and snort anger. "And hell no, I'm not sure it's her corner," I say, laced with Jane. "It's not like I followed her right here for several days. Not like I copped a ride with her to the Ambassador from that corner. Not like I walked back here afterward to—"

  "Okay, sweetie, I get it," Gaire says real snippy like.

  "Man, you're as bad as Vuur to work with," I toss back. Do I know how to strike a nerve or what?

  Gaire hits the gas and turns the corner at neck-breaking speed. "Where does she park her car?"

  "Right in there." I point at an alley and immediately regret it.

  White knuckling the dash, the street people and tall buildings blend together in blur of gray and black.

  Gaire comes to a screeching stop inches from Jane's car, "That it?" he asks curtly.

  "Yes," I answer just as curtly and peel myself off the dash.

  Gracie's eyes well-up, but not mine, as we sit there staring at Jane's car. I'm thinking about the Smith & Wesson she keeps under the dash. I turn and glare at Gaire.

  "You want to take Jane's car to the Ambassador hotel?" I ask, and then drive my insane thoughts home by adding, "This one has a Lake County tag."

  Gaire fills his lungs, and his eyes, with the best Orange County has to offer at the moment. A homeless guy staggers up to Jane's vehicle. The car holds him up as he alternately swigs from a brown paper bag and peeks inside windows. He smells like rotgut wine, grease, unmentionable body odors, urine, and a bouquet of dumpster treasures.

  "I told you to keep the windows up," I tease.

  "Sorry for being an asshole." A sigh pushes his words. "I know we're both stressed, but I'm making it worse by worrying about you, that I'm not strong enough to keep you safe when we find this guy. I tried to kill Vuur once. My poison didn't do a damn thing to the dragon. And we both know I can't kill a doppelganger. What good am I?"

  "Maybe you can only kill Vuur before he shifts," I say.

  A light comes on behind his stormy blue eyes.

  "That is very possible," Gaire says. "I remember a fairytale my mother told me over and over. It was about a dragon couple, centuries ago, that almost wiped out the wendigo race. In the tale, great warriors—humans—slayed the male dragon and captured the female. They then mated with her, hoping to gain an ability to stay alive under wendigo's attacks. Mom hypothesized it was how shaper-shifter dragons were born." Gaire looks over at me. "The story ends with the wendigo killing all of the changelings, but who knows?"

  "Jeeze, that's worse than a Grimm Brothers' tale. Your mother is kind of sadistic, isn't she?"

  "I must be a bit deranged too because I loved that fairytale. It made me dream of killing human warriors with mighty swords who rode dragons in the moonlight. Maybe she was testing me."

  "How about we get to the hotel and test our theory out? Slide over," I say, opening the passenger door. "I'll drive, you shift just in case. I doubt the Ambassador's clientele will notice you're a bit . . . different. We need a leash. I think there's a dollar store on East Colonial Drive on the way to the hotel," I say, dodging the vagrant and trotting around to the driver's side. "Just remember, strike before Vuur turns."

  "You forgot a couple of things," he says.

  I smile. "Like what?"

  "First of all, aren't we taking Jane's car? You know. Lake County tags and all?"

  Why is he grinning?

  "Uh, that's alright. Slide over." I shoo him with my free hand.

  "And, sweetie?"

  "Yeah?"

  If I were dressed in Jane, she would be pulling the Smith & Wesson and telling Gaire to zip it. Probably better I'm not tempted.

  "The Vuur in the hotel room is just a host. I can't poison the doppelganger underneath the skin." He smiles, pointing to the passenger seat. "Get in."


  As Gaire backs out of the alley, I ashamedly wished I'd snagged the gun.

  After checking the corner again and Gaire's cell phone for texts from Mom, we hit the trail. About ten minutes later, we pull into the back parking lot at the Ambassador. I try not to look at the girl on her knees beside the dumpster as we head to a back door next to it. Gaire blatantly stares. The guy above the girl's mouth smiles at him. Gaire doesn't smile back.

  We go in the back door and down a dark hall, the same one I ran down wearing Jane the day I doubled up on her. Only I was leaving then, mission accomplished. This one is just starting.

  We jog up two flights of stairs, past brown paper bags holding empties, and prophylactics also holding empties. I'm in the process of wishing I didn't let Gracie slide her burgundy polished toes into leather sandals as I wade through enough cigarette butts to damn a third-world country with wide-spread lung cancer.

  We exit on the second floor, a few feet from room two-oh-one. A loud bang at the end of the hall has Gaire pulling me back through the door and into the stairwell.

  "What the hell?" I exacerbate a whisper while trying to stick my head out the crack Gaire left with the door. "That could be my mother?"

  "Shush," Gaire hisses, free arm around my chest, and his cheek next to mine.

  "I'll kill her, if you don't shut up!" a baritone voice shouts.

  I shriek, "That's—"

  Gaire slaps his hand over my mouth. The door closes against our noses.

  "I know it's Vuur's voice. So let's tell whoever is banging their head, and the doppelganger wearing Vuur, we're here as well."

  "You don't have to be a prick," I mumble under his hand. "That could've been Jane's head."

  He lets go of my mouth.

  "And if you keep dragging, pulling, and pushing me around," I say, "I'm gonna find something to climb on and kick you in the ass!"

  Gaire