And he was never quite sure what that something was. Of course, he wouldn’t let himself reflect backward. He had tried to live in the moment and do some of the sobriety things that the rehab center had taught him, taking each day at a time, rewarding himself for getting through yet another difficult situation.
Only he hadn’t applied it to alcohol. He had applied those sobriety rules to murder. If he hadn’t harmed anyone that day, if he hadn’t put someone in harm’s way that day, then he had had a good day.
And technically, by his old rules, he had had two very bad days. Jodi was now in danger.
But the rules had changed.
He used the key she had handed him—an old-fashioned one, with an old-fashioned blue plastic fob and a number, just like old motel keys—and let himself into the apartment.
It was pleasant, which he hadn’t expected although he should have, given the exterior. The living room was small but furnished, with comfortable couches and chairs, and a flat screen television on the wall. Directly across from the door was the door to the kitchen, and through it he saw another big window which opened into the garden. Clearly someone had put two motel rooms together to create this one.
He set his bag down and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Good light, comfortable. So different from any place he had stayed for decades. Even his favorite room at the rehab center didn’t have this kind of light.
Then he remembered: Jodi was a descendent of chatelaines. She specialized in comfort, especially in a home.
He smiled a little, and even though he knew she hadn’t designed this for him, it felt like she had. Part of the magic, of course, but a nice part.
He wandered through the living room to the bedroom—a third former hotel room, with another large window. But it didn’t look like an old hotel room, and the bathroom—with its double sinks, standalone rainwater shower, and large claw-foot tub—didn’t look like an old hotel bathroom.
He was lucky to be here, in more ways than one.
He went into the kitchen and to his surprise saw a computer on one of the counters. The computer was running, with a Post-it note on the screen saying it was all right to use it.
Such a risk, given the way that the Kingdom magical destroyed electronics. But computers were cheap now. The Post-it did not have his name on it, so he knew this was a feature of all of the apartments, probably to help the folks who lived here find work.
He moved the mouse, and the screen came up onto a series of rules for the magical and computer use.
He smiled, then turned away feeling his smile fade. He was disappointed that nothing here was personal, and he shouldn’t have been. But he was. Because of Jodi. He should have realized how he felt this morning when Jodi told him that the curse had started to have an effect on her. He should have thought it through.
It wasn’t just that he had noticed her or looked at her or talked with her.
He found her really attractive, but more than that, he liked her.
He wanted to be with her.
He put his hands on the edge of the sink and looked into the garden. Some pixie children were playing tag around a sapling, occasionally sparking when one of them rubbed against something clearly spelled as untouchable.
He was so needy. That was it. No real warmth, no real contact for centuries. The talks with Dr. Hargrove didn’t count, because Blue had paid the man to listen. Blue never thought of Dr. Hargrove or the others of his ilk as anything more than resources. And Blue could never let himself think that anyone cared for him.
He blamed any good reaction he got—sober or not—on his charm magic, not on anything to do with him.
So he had to remember that Jodi’s kindness came from the fact that Tank had hired her. Although Jodi could have left, probably would have left, if she hadn’t discovered the curse.
But even then, the hiring had less to do with him than the Fairy Tale Stalker. And Blue was supposed to help her find that guy, stop that guy from hurting others, and maybe that would lead to this damn cursecaster, whoever he was.
They hadn’t been able to finish the conversation at the restaurant. Too many distractions, what with Tank and the caviar and the waiters. By the time Blue realized he hadn’t finished telling Jodi what he had learned from the material she had given him, they had already moved to another topic, which was finding him some place to stay.
The job Blue had to do now was both simple and hard. He had to look backward, all the way back to those horrible days when he thought that he was killing people and not remembering it. He had to look at a part of his life he had shut off, and as he did, he had to reassess it, realize that everything he thought was true wasn’t.
Tall order for a man to do with the help of a counselor. Even taller for a man to do on his own.
But Jodi was taking a risk with him. Tank had taken an even bigger risk: she had believed from the beginning.
And if Blue could find some of the secrets in his own past, he would be able to help this so-called Fairy Tale Stalker.
One day at a time. One moment at a time.
Because he didn’t want to think about what would happen if finding the Fairy Tale Stalker led to the cursecaster.
Blue wasn’t sure what he would do to that cursecaster when he found him. For generations, Blue had believed himself capable of horrible, awful murders.
He didn’t want to think about how, if he found the cursecaster, he might learn that the image of himself as killer was true after all.
Chapter 33
Ten minutes. That was all Jodi promised herself. Just ten minutes.
She had come home for an hour only, which was stupid in LA because driving took so damn much time, but she needed to decompress, and she couldn’t, not with Ramon asking a ton of questions, the phone ringing like crazy, the reception area full, and all of the meetings she had pushed back from that morning crammed into the late afternoon.
She needed a shower, a glass of wine, a nice dinner, and some Jodi-time. But most of all, she needed to stretch out on the bed and close her eyes for ten minutes.
The lack of sleep from the night before had caught up to her, along with the stress, and just the general confusion.
The confusion concerning Blue.
She didn’t want to think about him. She had been a bit dismissive of him at the apartment, but she needed to get back to work. Besides, she didn’t want to see him in the place. She would have felt the need to add a few more spells to make him even more comfortable.
She didn’t dare do that, not when he had asked that they remain the magical equivalent of professional.
She went into her bedroom, ignoring the fairy dust from the night before—in fact, pretending the night before hadn’t happened at all—and kicked off her shoes, then stretched out, still in her business suit, feet tucked under the thin duvet she had on top of the bed. The bed (the room itself?) smelled faintly of baby powder.
She didn’t care. She just needed to close her eyes.
She didn’t even set an alarm, figuring the phone would wake her, or the sun itself as it lowered over the Wilshire golf course and came streaming into the sliding glass doors overlooking the pool.
Besides, in her entire life she’d never been able to nap longer than ten minutes, not even when she was sick (which was rarely).
She had barely closed her eyes when she heard something rustle. Her heart started to pound, and she wanted to leap out of the bed, but she didn’t. She had to get used to being in her own room again. Just because she had been frightened out of it by a vision the night before didn’t mean she needed to be frightened whenever the house creaked.
She opened her eyes, and there he was, again. Blue. Or Not-Blue. Bluebeard, with his young face and innocent eyes, oozing charm, wearing that light blue top with the big sleeves, and those tights.
The tights fit him well, showing muscular legs.
He smiled at her and she smiled back before she realized what she was doing.
She le
t out a small “eep,” and rolled off the bed on the opposite side. He walked around the bed toward her, hand extended, and damn if she didn’t want to take that hand. It took all of her strength to stay on her side of the bed.
Eye contact. She had to sever eye contact, and she did, going for the sliding glass doors again, running onto the patio, and this time, she hadn’t remembered to grab her phone.
Not that it mattered. He was reaching for the patio door—how the hell could he do that? Was he corporeal? Could he pull the doors open? Or was he about to step through the glass like a ghost? She couldn’t tell. She ran along the stone path she had built on the far side of the house, stopping when she reached the front, and she rummaged in her car (thank heavens she had left the top down) and grabbed one of her extra phones.
With her thumb, she dialed Selda’s direct line. Jodi backed toward the street so that she could see the entire house, but she kept looking over her shoulder to make sure he hadn’t come up from behind her somehow.
Her heart was still racing, but she was beginning to get her breathing under control.
Finally, Selda answered. “Jodi?”
“He’s back,” Jodi said. “It’s back. That vision-curse thing. It’s here.”
“Here is…?”
“My house,” she said.
“And Blue?”
“I put him in an apartment hours ago,” she said.
“Alone?”
“Yes, alone,” Jodi said. “But there are monitors. He doesn’t have a car. I don’t know how he could get here if he wanted to. I need Tank. Do you know where she is?”
“Right here,” Tank said from beside her.
Jodi eeped again and almost dropped the phone.
“Last I saw her,” Selda said, “she was mixing some potion to calm her upset stomach. I’ll send someone looking for her.”
“Never mind,” Jodi said. “She just showed up.”
Selda started to say something, but Jodi didn’t wait to hear what it was. She hung up and stuffed the phone in the pocket of her skirt.
She looked up at Tank, who was wearing a purple gossamer dress that matched her wings—and was the color of the air she had been creating in the car earlier in the afternoon.
“It’s back,” Jodi said.
“I gathered from your call to Selda,” Tank said.
Jodi blinked. “You heard it?”
“I was at the Archetype Place when the call came in,” Tank said with a bit of annoyance. Maybe she had a right to be annoyed. Jodi hadn’t noticed until now how hard Tank was breathing or how rapidly her little wings were moving. “I got here as fast as I could.”
“That was fast,” Jodi said. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Tank said. “We have to figure out what’s going on.”
If Tank could get here that quickly, could Blue? Jodi didn’t understand everyone else’s magic. And if there was a way besides teleportation to get here that quickly, then she wanted to know what it was.
She dialed the cell she had left on Blue’s kitchen table.
Tank flew over the house toward the back.
Jodi followed, the bottom of her feet sensitive to the rocks and the uneven concrete of her driveway. She hadn’t noticed any of that when she had run out from the bedroom, but she noticed all of it now, including the way that her heart wouldn’t stop pounding.
The phone kept ringing. Either he hadn’t noticed or he didn’t have the phone with him or he was here.
She hoped he wasn’t here.
Then the ringing stopped. Someone answered.
“Um… hello?”
It was Blue. She knew it was Blue. Her heart lifted, and she let out a small sigh.
“This is Jodi. Where are you?”
“The apartment,” he said as if she were a bit deranged. “Why?”
“Because you’re here too,” she said.
“Here…?”
“My house,” she said. “Wait there.”
“But—”
She hung up and walked around the house. Tank was flying over the pool, hands on her little hips, wings working extra hard. She looked unnerved.
Jodi had never seen Tank look unnerved before.
“What is it?” Jodi asked as she hurried along the path. “Is he gone?”
“Stay there,” Tank said, holding up her little hand.
Jodi didn’t stay, though. She came the rest of the way around until she saw what Tank was looking at.
Something—someone—that Bluebeard vision-thing—had shattered the sliding doors. Glass littered the back patio.
Jodi hadn’t even heard that. She should have heard that, right? She looked up at Tank.
“He—it—what did that?” Jodi asked.
Tank shook her head. “If it’s just an image, it shouldn’t have been able to do that. It shouldn’t have been solid enough to do that.”
Jodi clutched her phone so hard that her hand hurt. She looked at the shards of glass, glittering in the late afternoon sun.
“I don’t like this,” Tank said.
“I don’t either,” Jodi said. Of course she didn’t. This was her house. How come someone had destroyed her house?
Then her breath caught. It could have been her. He could have destroyed her.
The phone rang, startling her. She nearly tossed it away from herself and stopped herself just in time.
She didn’t recognize the number displayed on the screen, but she answered anyway.
“Yes?” she said in her most dismissive tone. If this was business, whoever it was would have to wait.
“Jodi?” It was Blue. He had called her back. “What’s going on? What happened? Are you okay?”
She let out a small sigh. “We’re fine. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
Then she hung up. She cradled the phone against her chest and looked at Tank who was still floating over the pool.
“Aren’t you going to do that fairy dust thing?” Jodi asked. “Shouldn’t we see what he—it—that thing did?”
“We can see what he did,” Tank said. “And I don’t think I should use dust at all. I’m not sure what we have here, but whatever it is, it’s powerful.”
Jodi let out a small breath. She needed to get a grip on herself. “This happened awfully fast, didn’t it? I mean, the Fairy Tale Stalker women talk about weeks between visits.”
“Yeah. Wow. I hadn’t thought of that.” Tank rubbed a hand over her mouth. Her wings kept fluttering hard. “What happened exactly?”
“I took a nap,” Jodi said.
Tank looked at her, frowning. At least, Jodi thought she was frowning. It was hard to tell from this distance.
“You fell asleep,” Tank said. “Alone?”
Jodi nodded.
“Crap,” Tank said. “Crap, crap, crap. You said you weren’t going to be alone.”
“I didn’t think a nap would hurt,” Jodi said. “It’s daytime.”
But as she said that, she realized she’d been rationalizing. She didn’t like to have people around her all the time. She needed to be alone, so she stole some time—and it had caused this.
“We need to find out what Blue was doing,” Tank said.
“Well, if we can get back into my house, we can do that,” Jodi said.
“I don’t know if it’s safe,” Tank said, and that was when Jodi realized Tank was terrified. “We need to get someone here before we do anything. We need to investigate the magic, and I’m not going to do it.”
Jodi sighed. Of course, Tank was right. The magic needed investigation, and more than what Tank had done the night before. Jodi redialed Selda. This was beyond all of them now.
They needed to figure out what was going wrong, and they had to do it fast.
Chapter 34
Blue stood in the kitchen of the new place, staring at the cell phone in his hands. It was square and complex and confusing. He had never really mastered these things—he’d had no reason to. He had never owned one and had used them only
rarely.
When this one had started to ring, at first he had thought it had come from outside. But it was also vibrating, and it vibrated its way off the table. When it tumbled on the floor, he realized what was going on.
He spoke to Jodi, who sounded terrified. He hadn’t ever expected her to sound terrified, and that unnerved him. She hung up after she told him to stay put, and he had studied the damn thing for nearly a minute before he figured out how to call her back.
And then she had hung up again.
Something had gone wrong. Something had gone horribly wrong.
Where are you?
The apartment. Why?
Because you’re here too.
His stomach was churning. Just like in the past. His mind hadn’t been playing tricks on him. He hadn’t misremembered anything. This curse had activated much quicker for him than it was for this Fairy Tale Stalker. Blue didn’t know if that was because the cursecaster was more experienced now or less powerful or more cautious, and he didn’t want to give it much thought.
He just had to make sure Jodi was all right. Because if this went the way it had in the past, she had less than a week.
He couldn’t just stand here stupidly holding a phone. He needed to get to her. All of the other women had died alone. And Jodi was alone.
He didn’t know how to get there. He didn’t have a car, and a cab would take forever. He wasn’t even sure there were cabs in LA anymore.
Plus he didn’t know where her house was.
He held the phone for a minute, then stared at it, trying to figure out how to work it. He didn’t dial “0” any longer for information. There was a number. It was one that had become slang, a number people used instead of the word “information.” “Give me the… 4-1-1.” That was it. 411.
He had to punch the screen a couple of times to find the keypad, which irritated him. But he found it. And then he called the Archetype Place. He needed Jodi’s address.
They had to give it to him.
Froggy answered. His voice, deep and raspy, was recognizable just from hello.
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