Smoke and Shadows

by Tanya Huff

  “And you know so much, Mr. Smart-ass!” She shook her head, looking old as the burst of anger faded. “As it happens, you’re right; he’ll know, but he won’t be able to manipulate enough energy to jump here.”

  “He doesn’t have to.” Tony pointed at a gull’s shadow skimming over the beach. “He controls shadows.”

  “Not the ones he hasn’t touched.”

  The shadow of Tony’s arm lying on the sand, waved. Tony stopped waving as Arra got the point. “He’s touched me. A couple of times. Touched me; touched my shadow. That’s why he let me leave, knowing what I know about him. Because of what he knows about me. Why should he exert himself to find you when I will? Especially since when I find you, he has a weapon handy.”

  Arra’s pale eyes narrowed as she stared at a darker patch of sand. “So you’re a threat to me. I could remove that threat.”

  “I don’t think he’ll do anything until you try to gate,” Tony told her hurriedly. This was the weak point in his presentation. She could take him out and open the gate and leave this world. Except that running was one thing. Killing a friend . . . ally . . . coworker, at the very least . . . first was something else again. He hoped. Apparently, the Shadowlord thought so. Or at least he thought Arra thought so because evidence suggested he was definitely the kind of guy who’d cheerfully skin a friend, ally, or coworker alive. “If you’d gone before I found you, you’d have probably been fine.”

  “You knew that and you came after me anyway?” she asked, lifting her gaze to Tony’s face. The clear subtext in both tone and expression said, I don’t like being manipulated.

  “Actually, I just figured that out. Just now.” He nodded toward his shadow. It had seemed so obvious when he saw it moving across the sand. “Like right now. Thirty seconds ago.” When she seemed at least partially convinced, he added, “Why didn’t you?”

  “Why didn’t I leave? I don’t know.”

  “For the same reason you hung around the gate, knowing he’d find you eventually. Because you’re basically a decent person and the guilt’s been eating at you for seven years.”

  “Shut up.”

  The fabric covering her shoulder felt damp under his hand and he wondered how long she’d been sitting there. “You’ve got a second chance, the chance you’ve been waiting for. Hoping for. We can take him.”

  “We?”

  “You and me and CB. And Henry.” He nodded toward the west where the sun was still a good distance above the horizon. “Sunset’s not until 8:00, but that’ll give us time to prepare.”

  “And the Shadowlord will wait patiently while we marshal our forces against him?”

  If the level of sarcasm was any indication, she was starting to perk up.

  “He might think you have a chance, but he believes he can win.” Tony flicked up a finger. “He thinks you believe the same thing and that’s what gave him the TKO in round one.” A second finger joined the first. “He’s already told me I’m no threat to him.” Finger three. “And besides, CB waved some shiny stuff in front of Mason that’ll keep him on the soundstage until late. He needs Mason to get on Live at Five.” He folded the fingers into a fist and shook it out as Arra snorted derisively.

  “He doesn’t need Mason if he has CB.”

  “Would you try taking over CB if there was another option?”

  “Valid point.” She sighed and stared out over the water. “I love it here. It reminds me of home. The sky, the water, the smells, the sounds . . . I just look straight ahead and pretend that if I turn around I’ll see the city walls and not half a dozen broiled bimbos courting melanoma. How did you find me?”

  He told her about the picture on the computer.

  “Very clever, but not what I meant. When you were sitting back there, behind me, how did you know I was here?” One palm patted the sand. “Right here.”

  “I don’t know.” Although he’d definitely known she was there when he threw the stone. “I just did.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Honestly. I have no idea.” He made a mental note to get freaked about that later.

  The same juvenile gull wandered past again, gave them a dirty look, and took to the air.

  Arra watched him fly, her eyes squinted nearly shut.

  “You should have sunglasses on.”

  “Because you know everything.” She snorted explosively, then squared her shoulders and snapped. “Do you really think we can beat him or are you just throwing words at me in a desperate attempt to get me to help?”

  Yes. “I think this time you’re going to have to fight him regardless. You open a gate, he’ll come through shadow and stop you.”

  “Or I could kill you to clear the shadow away and then gate safely.”

  “And he’ll have won because you’ll have become him. Like him. Evil.

  She raised a hand as he searched for other synonyms. “Yeah, I get it.”

  “Good. Because if you have to face him, why not go in believing you’ll win?”

  Tony half expected her to say: Because we won’t.

  She surprised him.

  “All right. I won’t fight for you. But I’ll fight beside you.”

  “All I’m asking.”

  “I know.”

  “It was all I was ever asking.”

  “I know. Now help me up. I’ve got to get my cats back from that idiot Vera before they convince her that they always have fresh salmon for dinner.”

  “And yet you were going to leave them with her when you bailed.”

  Her hand tightened almost painfully around his as he helped her to her feet. “Don’t push it, boy.”

  “Sorry.”

  She tucked her arm into his as they walked toward the parking lot, graciously allowing him to support more and more of her weight as they traveled. Tony suspected she was making a point, but since he had no idea what that point was, he just braced himself and kept going. Maybe she was just making sure he wouldn’t drop her. Yeah, of the two of us, I’m the only one who’s never run out on an entire world. I won’t be the one doing the dropping. Maybe she was just being a pain in the ass because she could.

  The latter seemed more likely.

  “I know something else about the Shadowlord,” he said as the muscles in his arm started to protest. “Something you don’t know.”

  “You have no idea what I know.”

  “He’s gay.”

  “You’re right, I didn’t know that.” Shifting her weight, she leaned far enough away to sneer up at him. “However, he’s an evil wizard from another world; I doubt very much your gaydar applies.”

  “Never doubt the gaydar,” Tony snorted as they stepped over the concrete divider and into the parking lot. “But that’s not it. I told you, he’s touched me. I mean, talk about queer eye on the straight guy—every time I come in contact with a straight boy that’s being shadow-held, they go after my ass.”

  “Do they now?”

  “They do.”

  “So that would be Lee and Mouse and Ben . . .”

  “Technically Ben just winked at me, but yeah.” He really didn’t like the speculative sound she made as they reached the car. With any luck, it was about the car. Not that his luck had been great of late.

  “Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s your ass.” Arra leaned back, looked down, and made a small dismissive moue. “And then again, maybe not. Did you happen to mention that CB has his memory back?”

  “I didn’t, exactly, but he does.”

  A raised brow invited him to continue.

  “I retraced the paper. Like he did for me.” Might as well spread the reaction around.

  “Did he now?”

  “Yeah. He’s kind of pissed.”

  “No doubt. How fortunate, then, that I’m probably going to my certain death.”

  Eighteen

  “UH, ARRA,that’s a new lock. Remember, I told you about the break-in.”

  “I’m not senile, boy.” She paused and tossed a twisted grin at him over her
shoulder. “At least you’d better hope I’m not, all things considered.” The key turned smoothly and she pushed open the apartment door. “You put the supplies in the kitchen; I’m going to rescue my cats.”

  Wondering whether it was wise for her to waste energy on something that could be solved by a visit to Julian—and the next instant realizing that the thought of a visit to Julian was probably why she’d done it that way—Tony set the two bags of groceries and the single bag from the liquor store on the counter. By the time he heard the door open again, he had the frozen dinners in the oven and the coffeemaker on. A bottle of vodka in each hand, he watched both cats stalk down the hall, noses in the air and tails lashing from side to side.

  “I thought they’d be glad to see you,” he said as the wizard came into the kitchen.

  Arra snorted. “You’ve never had cats, have you? Put those down; we’ll eat first, then you can put the potion together while I try to remember just how the Light of Yeramathia goes.”

  “Try to remember?”

  “Give me a break.” She pulled the coffeepot out and shoved a mug under the drip. “It’s been seven years, it was a joint effort originally, and it may have to be adapted for local conditions.”

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  Good question. “Nothing.” Wait. Something. “I’m to put the potion together?”

  “That’s right. Better make a double batch, we’re probably going to have to pour it down the throats of the entire crew. Those that survive anyway.”

  “But . . .”

  “Until the final . . .” A spark leaped off her fingertip. “. . . zap, it’s nothing more than organic chemistry—no more complicated than putting together a decent salsa.”

  “I don’t cook,” he protested, shooting a wary glance at her fingers.

  “You do now.” She took a long swallow of coffee and peered at him over the edge of the mug. “I’m not doing this on my own; that was the deal.”

  “I’ll fight with you, not for you.”

  “Yeah, that was the deal, but . . .” Fuck, he wished people would stop staring at him. If he hesitated, if now she was willing to fight he even once suggested it was all up to her, she’d bail. Guilt or no guilt, she was still on the edge; he could see it in her eyes. “Okay, fine. I’ll make the damned potion. What’s the recipe?”

  Arra shrugged and bent down to peer into the oven. “You know the ingredients, just use as much as seems right to you. How long until these things are ready? I’m starving.”

  Tony stared down into the pot of heated vodka and took a cautious sniff. Mostly, it smelled like catnip and since that’s what this potion mostly smelled like when Arra made it, he supposed it smelled like it was supposed to. What kind of measurement was . . . as much as seems right to you anyway?

  “So much for wizardry being an exact science.”

  Arra had paused on her way out of the kitchen. “It’s not a science at all, kid, it’s an art. It’s like television—art and science blended.”

  Knowing how big a part luck played in making good TV, comparing it to wizardry didn’t exactly inspire confidence. As far as he was concerned, a world where Joss Whedon got canceled was exactly the kind of world where the Shadowlord could win.

  The contents in the second pot weren’t quite the same shade of green. He tossed in another bay leaf and a few more flakes of catnip, changed his mind and attempted to scoop them out again. Unsuccessfully. Sucking his fingers, he realized he should have used a spoon.

  “I told her I didn’t know what I was doing,” he muttered down at Whitby.

  Whitby stretched out a paw and languidly poked Tony in the ankle.

  He sprinkled a few more flakes of catnip on the cat. Getting stoned seemed like a good idea to him, but since that wasn’t an option, he’d have to mellow vicariously.

  Someone knocked on the apartment door.

  Tony checked his watch. Not quite 4:30—way too early for Henry and Julian had already been by. Twice. Which didn’t, of course, rule out the fact that this could be Julian dropping by again.

  He turned both pots down to simmer and hurried toward the door. Arra had made it quite clear after Julian’s second visit that a third would result in the Shadowlord knowing exactly where she was because she’d open a gate to the world of annoying gits and return her unwelcome visitor to his own kind. And his little dog, too.

  A second knock as Tony’s fingers closed around the door handle convinced him to yank it open immediately. He very much doubted Arra would open a gate but, as the lock, the spark, and the incident with the litter box had proven, she could do smaller magics without attracting unwelcome attention.

  “Look, Julian, you’ve got to sto . . .” Propelled by Keisha’s fist, the final consonant exploded out of him along with all the air remaining in his lungs. Gasping for breath, he was able to offer little resistance as the set dresser shoved him up against the wall, his head impacting against the drywall with a distinct crunch.

  “So here you are.” Her forearm up against his throat, she leaned a little closer. Her dark eyes gleamed. “I was wondering who’d find you first.”

  Shadow-held.

  Holy obvious observation, Batman.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Do what? Kick your ass?”

  As her knee came up, Tony brought his own leg up and around, hooking hers while simultaneously slamming her on the opposite the side of her head with his elbow. Between the double blows she went down. He followed her to the floor, landing on her torso as hard as he dared.

  Keisha grunted, reached between his legs, grabbed a handful of crotch, and squeezed.

  Tony yowled. Rearing back, he clutched at her arm with both hands and tried to free himself from her grip. Free her grip from him. Stop the pain!

  When his balls dragged away from his body with her fingers, he changed his plan of attack. Unless he could knock her out and take the shadow controlling her out of play, just hitting her wouldn’t do any good. Catching her free hand around the wrist, he pinned it to the floor then, twisting his body as much as the pain allowed, began to tickle her exposed side.

  The release hurt almost as much as the initial grab and he yowled again as blood flowed suddenly back into abused tissue. Bright side, he hardly felt the back of Keisha’s fist drive the edge of his lower lip in over his teeth reopening the cut he’d received during his earlier dance with Mouse. Her hips canted up between his thighs, throwing him forward, off-balance. Barely managing to keep from kissing the linoleum, his weight slammed down on his elbow.

  “The master says we can’t kill you,” she growled, her teeth closing around his ear. “But we can hurt you.”

  If he yanked his head away, he’d lose a piece of his ear.

  Jesus FUCK!

  If he didn’t, he’d lose a piece of his ear.

  Tony could feel warm and wet running down his neck and he really hoped Keisha was drooling.

  Something was making a strange half growling, half howling noise. He didn’t think it was Keisha. He punched her in the stomach. She grunted and grabbed his wrist. Small bones ground together. The noise continued uninterrupted. Nope, not Keisha. Him?

  “Keisha!”

  A small eraser bounced off the set dresser’s close-cropped hair and hit him on the cheek.

  “Go to sleep!”

  Her mouth separated from his ear with a wet slurp. Her left leg settled slowly toward the floor. Her hand fell from his wrist. Tony clamped it immediately on his ear.

  “Stop being such a baby.” Arra’s voice sounded both muffled and annoyed. “It seems a little over the top after you had someone deliberately jab a hole through your eyebrow.”

  “Not the same thing,” he muttered, checking his palm. Damp but not bloody. As Keisha sighed under him, he pushed himself carefully up onto his knees.

  “Zazu, be quiet!”

  The growling howl stopped.

  Reaching behind him, Tony untangled a long leg
from around his. The moment he was clear, he fell to one side, crawling away until he could brace his back against the wall, cradling all his injured bits close. “Is she . . . ?”

  “She’s fine,” Arra told him as she stared down at the younger woman. “Physically anyway. Unless you did damage.”

  “I took damage.” And as soon as he got the chance, he was heading for the bathroom to check things out. They still fucking hurt!

  “The shadow-held aren’t stronger than they were before, but they have no inhibitions. They have no fear of injury, so they hold nothing back.”

  He picked the eraser up off the floor. “So what was this for?”

  “To get her attention.”

  “Right.” And then he remembered. “You said she’s physically fine. What isn’t?”

  “What isn’t what?”

  “Fine.”

  “Ah. Yes.” Arra pressed her lips together into a thin line, all color leaching out. “It’s like this,” she began just as Tony thought she wasn’t going to answer him. “Putting Keisha to sleep involved her energies only—it’s undetectable at a distance. The shadow is still in there, confined. If I destroy it, the Shadowlord will know immediately where I am and I am not yet ready for him.”

  “You’ve destroyed shadows before.”

  “So it’s true, then. Men really do think with those?” She nodded toward his crotch and he covered it instinctively. “Because you’re not thinking now. The Shadowlord wasn’t on this world, wasn’t part of this world’s energy flow before. She’ll have to hold the shadow until we defeat him once and for all. And if we don’t, well, she’ll have worse problems than a few nightmares.”

  “A few nightmares?” Now he knew to look, he could see Keisha’s eyes moving behind her closed lids.

  “Constant nightmares.”