by Linda Welch
I stood, swaying, and I didn’t know what to do except wait for her next move. She had the advantage of incredible speed and strength. I’m a big girl, yet she tossed me like I weighed nothing. She was going to kill me.
Gia launched off the ground and soared at me, like she flew - and Daven caught her out the air and held her tight to him with her hands pinned to her sides. She struggled and spat and he held on, gritting his teeth, swayed by the violence of her writhing.
My ears popped.
“Gia, listen to me,” Daven growled at Gia. But she wasn’t listening, and when she broke free she’d be at me again.
I played my only card. I think I shouted, but my voice sounded distant. “Don’t you want to know what happened to Rio Borrego?”
Gia’s face smoothed out. Daven’s arms relaxed around her. “I doubt you know anything about Rio,” she snarled, but she sounded uncertain.
I drew in a careful breath. It didn’t hurt too much. “I have information which may lead us to him, if you let me and Royal do our job instead of trying to control us.”
Gia frowned. “What do you know?”
I pulled a string of lights from across my chest and moved out the way. The tree slid off my back, hit the ground, and more lights shattered, tiny silvered shards spraying the wood floor. I felt like hell, but Gia looked fine. No blood, no bruising, her hair in place and shining like black onyx. “Not until you undo whatever you did to Royal.”
“If you are lying, I promise I won’t hold back.” She wrenched free of Daven’s arms. “And you won’t stop me,” she told him.
“Gia,” he chided softly.
Concentrating on breathing, I hobbled over to Royal. Nothing felt broken, but I hurt just about every place on my body. She wouldn’t hold back, she said? If that was holding back, I would not survive an unrestrained attack.
Royal looked ready to explode. Anger, anguish and fear shook him. His emotions raced over his face and turned his eyes stormy. Right then I hated our clients for pinning him down while Gia tossed me across the room, not for my sake, but for his. It must have been hell for him. Tears shone in his eyes.
Gia and Daven settled on the facing couch. “I need to look into Royal’s eyes to remove the geis,” Gia said.
Royal got to his feet. “Royal, do not get between us. Go around the back of the couch,” I managed to croak.
I swayed a little as he walked behind the couch, and back around so he stood at Gia’s side, but I absolutely refused to fall. She stared at me a good long time as I sweated some more, then turned her head to him.
I had a horrible thought: she could hex him so he’d attack me.
Royal sagged and grabbed the arm of the couch. I wanted to go over and help him, but he got himself upright and came to me, and anyway, I didn’t have the strength. His arm came around my shoulders and hugged me fiercely, which hurt, and I flinched. He eased the pressure, but I thought he might bite through his lip. I prayed that now Gia had freed him, his barely restrained anger would not make him do something rash.
But who was I to talk?
We faced them together, Royal tall at my side, his warmth enveloping me like protective armor. This was my partner, the guy who watched my back, not their puppet.
“There,” Gia said.
Daven twirled my Ruger in his fingers like a gunslinger about to holster his weapon. He leaned forward and presented the butt. “Take a seat, Tiff.”
I stepped nearer and took the pistol, moved back and lowered my aching body to the couch just as I started to shake. My insides churned. I felt sick. In the heat of the moment, I forgot Gia killed two men with her bare hands. Of all the crazy things I’d ever done, going one-on-one with Gia Sabato had to be the craziest.
Royal sat next to me. “Are you all right?”
“I’m getting there.”
Keeping a cautious eye on Gia and Daven - not that it would do me any good - I holstered the Ruger. Sounds filtered from the street into the dead silence of the big room. I waited, but nobody said a thing. Looked like I had to launch the conversation.
“I know what you are, but what I don’t know is why you stopped Royal confirming it when I asked him.”
Gia sat up away from the back of the couch. “You have no idea what we are.”
“You’re Gelpha, although you’re working damn hard to make me see you as human beings.”
Both Gia and Daven appeared momentarily confused, then exchanged small, smug smiles. Smug, definitely smug. Were they happy I identified them, or happy I misidentified them?
“Tiff sees us as we are,” Royal explained.
“By us, you mean Gelpha?” from Daven.
Royal nodded his agreement.
I frowned at Royal. “You didn’t tell them?”
“I did not tell them anything about you.”
“Then why did they hire us? I thought it was because I . . . because our other cases . . . well you know.”
Daven’s gaze shifted back and forth between us. “Royal has been helping with a situation which threatens us and the Gelpha both. It has nothing to do with Rio.”
“When Rio disappeared, he thought you could help us locate him,” Gia added.
I tried to sort it out. “So the Gelpha have a situation and Royal’s been helping you with it.” I turned my head in Royal’s direction, but he apparently found the far end of the room totally absorbing, to the extent he couldn’t tear his eyes away to meet my gaze. “And he talked you into taking me on to find Rio, but you sealed his lips so he can’t talk about your other problem? Why would you do that?”
“You’re not listening, Miss Banks,” Gia spat my name like it tasted bad in her mouth. “We are not Gelpha. We are faster and stronger than humans and we possess other qualities Gelpha do not. More than that, I cannot tell you. I strongly suggest you do not ask. It would be better for all of us.”
My head was still muzzy. I guess it hadn’t sunk in when Daven said “us and the Gelpha.” She didn’t say what they were and she didn’t want me to know. They hexed Royal so he couldn’t tell me.
So that’s it. They don’t want me looking too closely at them. I got angry again. How dare they do that to Royal!
Then Royal took my hand. “Tiff, listen to me. It is important you remain calm. A lot is at stake here.”
As I realized what he meant, I closed my mouth and took in a few slow, shallow breaths through my nose. These two were dangerous, more than a single demon could handle.
Could more than one demon take them on? Now there was a cheering possibility. What if Royal got a bunch of his guys to lay into them? For that I’d pay, if it wiped out my savings account.
“Okay,” I eventually said, after a happy half minute picturing Gia Sabato smeared all over Royal’s living room. “When you say you and the Gelpha have a situation, do you mean you personally or your . . . people?”
Daven settled back. “Someone is targeting our people and Gelpha.”
“We’re talking multiple murders, Tiff,” Royal said. “We think a serial killer.”
I looked at him with a frown on my face. “How long have you known about this?”
“We do not discuss every homicide which occurs in your world.”
I supposed not, but that information, with what I already knew, clicked together in my mind like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. These murders . . . if the same killers went after Daven. . . ? Rio witnessed the attempt on Daven’s life. He could identify the men with John and Ronald, so they abducted him, my suspicion all along.
I scowled. “What a pity you didn’t, because I think Rio’s disappearance is linked to these murders.” I leaned over my knees. “They tried to kill you, didn’t they, Daven.”
Gia clasped Daven’s arm. “How did you. . . ?”
I narrowed my eyes at Gia. “They blew up his house and they thought he was in there. You and Rio went there. You killed two of them, but the others got away.”
I paused, staring at her.
“Royal, did you k
now one of our clients is a murderer?” I asked, still watching her.
He didn’t answer me. I looked at him. “No, I did not know,” he said leadenly.
I faced Gia again. “They got a good look at Rio and described him to their boss. I think that’s who has him.”
Gia rose to her feet. “Who? Who has him?”
Her distress killed my satisfaction, but I didn’t forget she almost beat me to a pulp and I kept my voice cool. “The guy who hired the arsonists is probably middle-aged. He has a European accent and drives an older model Mercedes-Benz, the same car seen driving Rio’s home turf a number of times. The men he hired are homeless and could have a military background. I’m sorry, it’s all I’ve found out so far.”
“How did you discover this?” Daven asked.
I started to fold my arms, but my shoulder hurt too much. I leaned back. “Oh, you didn’t know? I talk to dead people.”
Gia went very still, then sank down on the couch.
“I talk to people who’ve died a violent death. There are a lot of them about. They see things.”
Daven leaned forward over his knees and clasped his hands. “They are your informants.” He sounded delighted.
Gia, however, appeared awed, her eyebrows riding her hairline. She must have realized I talked to her two victims. Or perhaps the fact I could talk to the dead at all upset her more. “You didn’t mention this,” she said to Royal.
“You didn’t give me the chance,” came his retort.
“I spoke to Ronald and John - oh, that’s right, you didn’t ask their names before you killed them.”
One eyebrow sank, the other remained cocked. “They tried to kill Daven. I was not interested in their names.”
“And they told you about this man, and the car?” from Daven.
“He hired them, and another of my friends saw the car in Rio’s old neighborhood.”
Gia glanced over at Royal. “It seems we owe you an apology.”
I rubbed my shoulder. “I wouldn’t say no to one either.”
I knew, from her expression, I would not get one.
I squinted down the length of the living room, wondering if supernatural speed and strength would make my life easier. Nah. I’d rather stick with talking to dead people.
Chapter Thirteen
I sprinkled tenderizer on the steak, stabbed it with my fork, slapped it on the electric grill and closed the lid. The grill sat on the stove so I could use the extractor fan to pull some of the heat from the fierce little machine. I had a charcoal grill out back, but firing it up for one small steak was not worth the effort.
Apart from a twinge or two and a lump on the back of my head, I didn’t feel too bad after my set-to with Gia. My state of mind wasn’t so hot, it hadn’t stopped whirling since I left Royal’s apartment, particularly because nobody would tell me more about the Gelpha murders. You would think after I told them what I knew concerning Rio, proved my worth so to speak, they’d open up. But no.
The killers went after Daven. Did they abduct Rio? With what I now knew, the answer seemed obvious, but I wondered. Too many pieces of the puzzle were still missing.
The arsonists saw Gia, but they hadn’t nabbed her, despite her being something of a celebrity. There again, those more in the public eye tend to go to greater lengths to protect their privacy. Finding Daven was easy, but hard as I delved, I found nothing on Gia apart from what Bristow repeated in that forum, and if Royal’s snoop programs couldn’t pin down her location it was a lost cause. The bad guys were looking; they just hadn’t found her yet.
I wanted to know why someone was killing Gelpha. I wanted to know what Gia and Daven were. I had the feeling if I knew that, a whole lot would become clear to me.
I don’t necessarily waste time digging for details when I’m given oddball information, but I don’t brush it aside. I knew questioning Gia and Daven further would be a waste of time - they’d told me all they were going to - but after I left them, I thought long and hard on it.
So, they were not demons, but like them in many ways. What the hell were they?
I phoned Lynn again, but she didn’t know anything about another supernatural race similar to demons. She didn’t know of any other supernatural races, period. If they weren’t human, they had to be demons, she told me.
I didn’t look for supernatural creatures like our clients on the Web. According to the thousands of people posting, there are hundreds of weird and wonderful creatures, all without a shred of proof. So, where to start?
The sizzling sound and wonderful aroma from the grill pulled Jack and Mel into the kitchen. They zipped in just as I took the baked potato from the microwave.
Yep, instead of pulling the nearest box of frozen food from the freezer, I had an actual menu planned. Grilled steak, with a baked potato soaked in butter and piled high with shredded cheese, chopped green onion and sour cream.
I split the potato and mashed at the insides with a fork, sprinkled on salt and pepper, slathered on butter, closed it, wrapped it in foil and put it next the grill to keep warm.
Three minutes later, with the steak cooked to perfection, medium-well, just as I like it, I doctored the potato with all the savory, gooey accompaniments and took everything to the table. The steak tasted wonderful and the potato just oozed calories.
“I wonder you don’t eat yourself to death,” Mel said enviously, an absurd statement when according to her all I eat are dinky microwave meals.
Jack groaned aloud. “Of all the things I miss, food comes top of the list.”
I snorted. I didn’t bother to remind them, yet again, they can’t remember what food tastes like. “Think of it this way: you don’t have to worry over obesity or hardening of the arteries. Death set you free.”
“You can be one cruel bitch,” from Jack.
I forked in another mouthful of dripping potato.
“And just look at her!” Mel said. “Never gains a pound!”
“I do look, all the time.”
I glared at Jack. “Hey! I work hard at it. You think I enjoy all those hours on the treadmill?”
He leaned closer. “I enjoy them. Legs pumping, boobs bobbing, all that sweat making you shine.”
I stopped chewing. “Jack, you know the rules. The bathroom is off-limits, whatever I’m doing in there.”
“Oops.”
“Am I gonna have to get tough with you?”
“Ooh, baby-baby, please.”
I looked at my plate, shaking my head. “I give up.”
I pulled Elizabeth’s journal from the shelf beneath the table and found the right page.
“He waded toward me until we were very close. As I looked into his Eyes I became dizzy. For a moment I forgot where I was. I did not think it strange that I knew without his instruction precisely what he wanted me to do. With his help I climbed on his Shoulders. My wet Skirts wrapped around his Head and Face. I stood on his Shoulders and stretched upward but I was yet five feet below the Hole.
“And he boosted me. I clearly recall how I rose upward leaving his Shoulders and soaring up with my gaze fixed on the Hole until I was there with arms and elbows inside the opening. I dragged myself inside.
“I lay there panting in what I saw was a Tunnel. Yes they must have brought the Water in that way but now the sides were dry and coated with desiccated Algae. The Well would be dry but for condensation forming in the chill dank air. The tremendous exertion of lifting my Body the strain on my Arms was suddenly apparent although I was not aware of any strain until I rested. Above me the Grating shifted. My Savior stood below. I twisted in the Tunnel and pulled myself back out until I hung from the Entrance from the waist up. I dangled my Arms down and called to him to jump. He turned his side to me and reached up with one Arm to show me he could not touch even the tips of my Fingers. I know he had the strength to leap and catch my hand yet he refused to attempt that.
“I called for Daddy to help him and Mister Trencham replied they were trying. I urged them to hu
rry. One edge of the Grating dropped a few inches. I wriggled out a little farther. The Man in the Water frowned and shook his head. He stepped away from the Wall out to the middle of the Well. His eyes did not leave my Face. He looked up at me. Water dewed his face and his long black Hair hung wet and heavy as the coat of a Seal. His Face was terrible in its tranquility.
“I screamed at Daddy to do something. He replied that he would get me out and I was not to worry. But I was no longer concerned for my own safety. Help him I told Daddy.
“He looked at me still with a small smile. He was the most beautiful Man I had ever seen. I heard a Noise a vibration in the walls and pulled myself into the Tunnel to escape decapitation as the Grill dropped down past the entrance.
“I know that my last sight of him an instant before the Grill hit the Water just as he ducked beneath will HAUNT me for the rest of my life.”
“Whew!” I said around a wad of steak.
“Wow!” Mel said.
“Interesting, but is it supposed to mean something to you?” Jack asked. “Why aren’t you trying to find out who sent it to you, and why?”
I turned the next page. “All but impossible. Wrapped in plain brown paper, no return address, remember?”
“What about Elizabeth? Or the expedition?”
Huh? Then it clicked and I gave myself a mental slap. I am in a bad way when a dead roomy is smarter than me.
I cleaned every morsel from my plate and took it to the sink, then went up to my bedroom with Mel and Jack trailing me. Getting comfy in the old swiveling office chair, I lit up the computer and did a search.
No Elizabeth Hulme. No Edward Hulme, nor Westerland, Beecher, Trencham or Carlin with a connection to a nineteenth-century expedition to mysterious ruins in Burma. Which didn’t mean the information didn’t exist, just it didn’t on the Web. Or I wasn’t using the right search words.