Boggs clicked his tongue. “Always so testy, Tagos.”
“He’s not wrong,” Lana murmured, stepping around the bristling Wolfe to stand directly in front of Boggs. “I hope you’re here to help, Master?”
Boggs turned his head, his blind gaze resting on Myst. She shivered. Could he see her or did he have some other ability to sense she was near?
“I did foresee my skills would be needed when I met with the clairvoyant,” he murmured.
Myst frowned. She had a vague memory of him telling her his role had yet to be played, but she’d dismissed it as a way to get rid of them.
Now she studied him in confusion.
“What skills?”
The male moved forward, ignoring warning glares from both Bas and Wolfe as he stopped directly in front of her.
“My talent for this.”
There was a tingle of energy as the doppelganger abruptly shifted his appearance to look exactly like her.
Myst’s breath tangled in her throat. Good . . . Lord. He’d even created the raspberry sundress she’d pulled on after her quick shower.
It was Lana who realized precisely what the strange creature was implying.
“You’re suggesting that you pretend to be Myst?”
Boggs reverted back to his larvalike appearance, smoothing his hands down the front of his robe as he turned toward the Mave.
“So long as I can cover my eyes, the woman won’t be able to tell the difference,” he promised.
Myst allowed herself a brief flare of hope before Bas was giving a sharp shake of his head.
“That’s great, but it’s not going to do a damned thing if you can’t get past the layers of magic,” he snapped, clearly reaching the edge of his patience.
“I can get through,” Boggs assured him without hesitation.
Lana made a sound of shock. Clearly this was the first time she’d heard that someone might be able to get through one of her spells.
“How?”
Something that might have been a smile touched Boggs’s unformed face.
“My power to travel will allow me to pass through.”
Lana stepped forward, clearly intent on questioning him on his traveling ability, but Bas didn’t give her time to speak.
“I thought you needed to be close to the person for you to take their shape?” he pointed out, his clever brain searching out each problem.
He was too much a master tactician to accept any rescue plan that might put their daughter at risk.
Thank God.
“I do,” Boggs agreed, his confidence never faltering. “We need the woman who is holding the child to be near a door.”
Myst didn’t question how the creature knew that Stella had Molly as her hostage. Or that they needed him at this precise moment. He’d obviously seen something when they’d been together in France that had told him what was going to happen and where he needed to be.
A damned shame he hadn’t shared his vision.
“I can’t go through the spells,” she reminded him, growing increasingly restless.
Every minute that passed meant Molly was at the mercy of a woman without conscience or morals.
“No, but as long as you’re near the door, I can capture your essence.”
She frowned. It was possible for her to remain in the stairwell next to the locked door while Boggs traveled through the barrier. Stella might have gained powers, but she had no way of sensing that there were two “Mysts,” one inside and one hidden on the other side of the wall.
“I . . .” She gave a slow nod. “Okay.”
Her hesitant agreement hung in the air before Lana and Wolfe were surging into movement. Together they moved to push aside a panel on the wall, revealing a large map of Valhalla, softly arguing before they came to a mutual decision.
Glancing back at Myst, Lana pointed toward a stairwell at the north edge of the fifth floor.
“We need to get you here,” she said. “I can contact Stella on the intercom and show her your image standing at the door waiting for her. Once she’s sure you’re there she’ll hopefully agree to a trade.”
Boggs drifted forward, moving with an oddly fluid motion. As if his feet weren’t quite touching the ground.
It was . . . creepy.
“When she’s headed in the right direction I can travel to a spot just inside the door,” he assured them. “I won’t be able to hold my shape for long.”
Wolfe studied the Keeper of Tales with a narrowed gaze. “What about your voice?”
Boggs gave a wave of a too-slender hand. “I can make it sound feminine. I assume she isn’t familiar enough with Myst to tell the difference?”
“No.” Myst shook her head. “We’ve never met.”
Lana turned from the map, studying Boggs with a somber expression.
“You do understand that you’re exposing yourself to any number of diseases?” she asked. “Even if they’re not fatal to a high-blood, they’re extremely unpleasant.”
Boggs shrugged. “I’m not susceptible.”
“You’re certain?” Lana pressed, clearly worried the powerful high-blood was putting himself in danger.
Myst bit her lip, wanting to tell the woman to shut up. Obviously she didn’t want someone to suffer because they were trying to help Molly, but she was desperate. She didn’t want the Mave to convince Boggs his plan was too dangerous.
“Of course I’m certain,” he assured the older woman.
Keeping his arm tightly wrapped around Myst’s shoulders, Bas took a step forward.
“What about Molly?” he demanded, the air trembling with the force of his barely leashed frustration. “Can you travel with her?”
“No.” Boggs gave a slow shake of his head. “All I can do is keep the woman distracted long enough for the small one to escape.”
Bas stiffened, but Lana hurriedly sought to reassure them.
“If Boggs can get between Molly and Stella he can push Molly through the door,” she said, her finger moving to a door just down the hallway. “She’ll be able to cross through the barrier. Stella won’t be able to follow.”
Boggs tilted his head to the side, his white gaze locked on Bas’s rigid face.
“Will she obey me if I tell her to run?”
Bas hesitated before giving a jerky nod. “I believe so.”
Myst wasn’t so certain.
“What if she freezes?” she demanded, her mouth dry and her heart thundering. “She’s just a little girl.”
Without warning she felt herself being tugged back toward the windows and turned to meet Bas’s searing bronze gaze.
“I know it’s a risk, cara,” he murmured softly, his hands lifting to frame her face. “But what choice do we have?”
She sucked in a deep breath, trying to ease her sudden attack of nerves. Logically she understood that Boggs was offering them their best chance to get back Molly. Her heart, however, was terrified they might be putting her daughter in even greater danger.
“None, I suppose,” she at last muttered.
He leaned down to press his lips to her brow. “I’ll be at your side.”
She gave a sharp shake of her head. “No, I’m going to have to be alone on the camera if we’re going to fool Stella,” she told him.
“She’s right,” Lana murmured from across the room.
Bas narrowed his gaze, as if sensing there was more to her insistence than just a fear they might alert the leader of the Brotherhood that they were setting a trap.
It was true. She didn’t want the male near Stella just in case something went wrong. Right now they assumed her only power was being a plague carrier, but who knew? She might have some other rare magic that would allow her to strike through the barrier.
Bas conducted an inner battle, clearly torn between his primitive need to protect her and his common sense that knew she was right.
At last he muttered a savage curse and swooped his head down to claim her mouth in a kiss of blatant possession.
<
br /> “Don’t you dare take any foolish risks,” he commanded against her lips. “Molly is going to need you.” Another demanding kiss. “Almost as much as I need you.”
Myst shivered, pleasure racing through her even as she was acutely aware of their avid audience.
“Bas,” she breathed in protest.
“I don’t care who is watching,” he growled, his fingers threading through her hair, his heat wrapping around her like a physical caress. “You need to know that you’re going to help distract Stella and then we’re leaving Valhalla with Molly to start our life together.”
Together. A dangerous longing melted her heart. It was a dream she’d never dared to believe was possible. Even now, she found herself afraid to think it might be within her grasp.
Hope, after all, had always been her greatest enemy.
“Are you asking me to be with you or telling me?” she tried to tease.
“I’m telling you,” he warned, holding her wary gaze. “We’ve lost too many years already. I’m not taking a chance on wasting one more day.”
Her lips twitched. “Arrogant.”
“Determined,” he corrected, pressing a last, lingering kiss to her lips. “Be careful.”
With a slow nod she gently pulled out of his arms and turned to face the patiently waiting doppelganger.
“Are you ready?”
He immediately headed toward the door. “Let’s do this thing.”
“I’ll contact Stella as soon as you’re in place,” Lana assured her. “Good luck.”
Luck? Myst swallowed a hysterical urge to laugh.
Considering her shitty luck over the past fifteen years, she was overdue for her fair share.
She could only hope today was the day.
* * *
Stella was at the point of pulling out her hair when she heard the electronic beep.
Not that she was about to reveal her fear that she was destined to be forever trapped in the storage room, scratching at her skin that now felt as if it was on fire.
Not even in front of a mere child.
“I knew the Mave would come to her senses,” she murmured, glancing toward the girl, who was studying her with those strange bronze eyes. “It’s all about leverage, kid. I have what she wants and now she’ll give me what I want.” Smoothing her hair, she waved an impatient hand toward the monitor. “Turn that thing on.”
Clutching the hippo in one arm, the child reached up to press the button beneath the monitor. Instantly the screen flickered and the image of the Mave came into view.
“Stella,” the older woman murmured.
Stella pasted a mocking smile on her lips. “It’s about fucking time.”
The Mave considered her with a cold disdain that made Stella long to bitch-slap her.
“I had to locate Myst and explain that her daughter is being held hostage by a psychopath.”
“I assume she’s willing to cooperate?” Stella taunted, her heart thundering.
There was no backup plan if the clairvoyant refused to cooperate.
“She is.” The Mave eased Stella’s surge of fear.
Stella gave a toss of her hair, suddenly far more confident.
The clairvoyant would soon be in her hands and she would . . .
Well, she didn’t have a firm plan after that, but she was going to trust in destiny. She’d always known she was meant for more than the trailer-trash destiny of her mother. It had been written in her stars.
“Send her in and then I’ll let you have the girl.”
The Mave gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “Not going to happen,” she said. “The exchange will happen at the same time.”
Stella clenched her hands, the fire licking over her skin intensifying.
“Do you really think you can give me orders?” she hissed.
The Mave offered a cold smile. “Yes.”
Hatred ran thick through Stella’s blood. “I doubt Molly’s mother would agree,” she accused in venomous tones.
The Mave’s smile never faltered. “She wouldn’t, but she’s not in charge.” There was a deliberate pause. “I am.”
Stella knew she was cornered. If she wanted to get her hands on the clairvoyant, she was going to have to agree to whatever the Mave demanded.
“You really are a bitch,” she snapped.
The older woman arched a dark brow. “Unlike you, I didn’t earn my place with lies and false promises.”
Stella parted her lips only to snap them shut. The Mave was deliberately trying to provoke her. She was a fool to allow herself to be played.
With an effort, she hid her fury behind a mask of amusement.
“I’ll admit to the lies. The Brothers were gullible enough to believe anything that might offer them a chance to defeat the high-bloods.” She shrugged. “But my promises are about to come true.”
The Mave’s face was impossible to read. “You’ll make the trade?”
Stella hesitated before giving a sharp nod. It was now or never.
“Where?”
“The north staircase,” the Mave swiftly informed her. “Just take a right when you step out of the storage room. The door will be at the end. Myst will be waiting there.”
Stella narrowed her gaze. That’d all come out far too smoothly. As if it’d been rehearsed.
“Yeah, along with a dozen Sentinels, no doubt,” she accused, on the point of getting cold feet.
Being stuck in this storage room was better than a quick trip to the dungeons.
The Mave reached forward and her image was suddenly replaced by the sight of a slender woman who was standing just outside a door. The clairvoyant. It had to be. She had the same silver hair and delicate features as her daughter.
Stella leaned forward, studying the empty stairwell behind the woman, as if she could actually detect any warriors.
“There’s not one Sentinel with her,” the Mave’s voice floated through the intercom. “I swear.”
Stella stiffened her spine. She’d already decided that this was her last chance. There was no point in trying to pretend she had a choice.
“You’ll be very sorry if you’re lying to me,” she warned, reaching forward to press the button, shutting off the monitor. Then, before her nerves could get the better of her, she grabbed Molly’s arm and headed out of the storage room. “I’m going to enjoy watching that woman die,” she muttered, trying to soothe her wounded pride. “As slowly and painfully as possible.”
“Bad woman,” Molly said, stumbling over her feet in an effort to keep up with Stella’s brisk stride.
“Keep your mouth shut and stay close,” she told the brat, half dragging her down the hallway. “Got it?”
A mutinous expression settled on the tiny face, but Molly was smart enough not to argue.
“Yes.”
The odd pentagon shape of the building meant that it was impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of her. Which explained why Stella was so startled when she rounded a corner to discover that the woman on the camera was already standing just inside the doorway.
“I’m Myst,” the female said as Stella came to a startled halt.
Stella frowned, studying the woman. In person she looked even younger. Barely old enough to have a child.
“Christ, you look like a pixie doll,” she muttered, her gaze resting on the large pair of sunglasses that covered her eyes. “Why are you wearing sunglasses?”
The female held out a slender hand. “Molly, come to me.”
The child hesitated, as if confused by the sight of her mother.
“But—”
“No.” Stella tightened her grip on the girl’s arm.
The high-blood female made a sound of impatience. “That was the deal.”
Stella was desperate, but she wasn’t stupid. Just having the clairvoyant wouldn’t be enough.
“Not until I’m sure you can produce the weapon,” she told the female.
Myst shrugged. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“And empty-handed.”
There was a pause, as if Myst was caught off guard by the demand for proof that she could produce what the vision had promised. Then slowly she lifted her hands.
“The weapon isn’t a human device.”
Stella frowned in confusion. “Then what . . .” Her breath was jerked from her lungs as she caught sight of the dazzling display of colors that abruptly rose from the clairvoyant’s fingers. “Magic?”
“I am a high-blood,” Myst pointed out.
Stella felt a burst of anger, unconsciously releasing Molly’s arm as she scratched at her neck. The burning was spreading.
“That’s impossible,” she rasped. “I can’t use that.”
“Of course you can,” the clairvoyant promised. Slowly the colors coalesced into a ball of seething energy. “Hold out your hands.”
Stella started to reach forward, only to realize her arms were now covered by a red, angry rash. What the hell?
“This is a trick,” she rasped.
“Okay.” Calmly pulling back her hands, Myst gave a small shrug. “If you don’t want it.”
“Wait.” Stella bit her bottom lip, trying to think through the growing fuzz in her mind. She didn’t know what was wrong with her, but she was certain that once she managed to escape, everything would be fine. “What does it do?”
“Once it’s released it will spread through Valhalla like wildfire.”
Stella sent the clairvoyant a suspicious glare. “And you’re just going to give it to me?”
Myst turned her head toward the little girl. “I’ll do anything to protect my daughter.”
“Fine,” Stella muttered. She held out an impatient hand. “Give it to me.”
Myst took a step backward. “First, I want Molly.”
Stella reached to press her hand against the girl’s shoulder, wondering why the stupid brat was hesitating.
“Go to your mother,” she ordered.
The little girl clutched her stuffed hippo. “She’s not—”
“Molly, get out of here right now,” her mother interrupted in firm tones, pointing toward the door.
Warily inching away, the little girl abruptly scampered forward, pulling open the door that had refused Stella’s every effort to unlock. Within seconds she was gone, the door firmly closed behind her.
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