by S. W. Clarke
I sat and tapped Frank’s shoulder. “Dear, I don’t feel well. Maybe we should—”
He raised a finger, glancing back at me. “One second. Judy here is an accountant.”
A woman with a bird’s body was an accountant. How did she even type? The GoneGod World was a truly strange place.
I turned back to my place, staring down the square of meat. About six different utensils surrounded my plate, and all that reflective silver made me dizzy.
I wanted to get back to Grunt and the RV and continue strategizing about the Times Square party. I wanted to talk to Erik about hacking into their TV feed and cutting it before Lust could suck the whole world into her eyes.
But I had to wait for my “husband” to finish his conversation. I couldn’t leave Frank here alone; he was good at making paninis and pleasing Seleema and not much else.
“Tara,” Ferris hissed into my ear. “Tara, there’s a change in …”
“One second, Ferris.”
The chatter around me had lulled, and the lights had dimmed. The pink-haired woman with the heart brooch pinned to her chest had flounced with a waving hand into the center of the room with a microphone.
“Everyone,” she announced, “we have an unexpected surprise for you. Not only will you be able to meet Lust’s dragon tonight, but the woman of the night will be personally escorting him out.”
All around me, breaths were sucked into chests. Including mine.
I spun in my seat, hooking my arm over the back. The pink-haired woman grinned as applause began, nodding and half-lowering the mike for silence. She wasn’t joking; that much was obvious in the self-satisfied grin on her face.
Lust was coming here, to meet with the equivalent of middle managers on the scale of wealthy people?
I pressed a finger to my earpiece. “Ferris, I thought Lust was busy with the ultra-wealthy bastards. I thought this event was beneath her.”
“Well, I was wrong. She’s on her way,” Ferris snapped. “You know how she gains control, and she can snap these people up in one five-minute appearance. You need to get out of there.”
Meanwhile, Frank still hadn’t noticed what had happened. He and the pontianak had gone on chatting in whispers the whole while. About accounting, of all things. GoneGods be good.
My fingers dug into Frank’s shoulder. “Dear, I need you to take me home. Now.”
That finally got Frank’s attention. He turned, one eyebrow raised.
I pointed at the woman in the center of the room, leaning close enough to his ear to hiss, “Lust is coming here. She’s bringing Percy.”
Frank jolted in his seat, his knees hitting the table and clattering all the fine utensils and dishes. Everyone at our table turned a disdainful look on him.
Screw these dragon-petting snobs. I yanked Frank up just as the far double-doors opened, and two guards came in.
Lust was here.
“Ma’am,” our table’s waiter said from beside me, “is there anything wrong—”
“No,” I snapped.
“Then could you please take your seat while Lust is in the room?”
I ignored him, dragging Frank past tables and weaving us toward the back of the room, away from Lust. Except there were no doors back here. We were trapped.
I pulled him to the farthest table with only a single sad couple seated at it, and we dropped into chairs just as she appeared in the doorway.
The sin called Lust had arrived.
Everyone stood, broke into furious applause as Lust stepped into the room. I stood, too, but only so I could blend in—and see her entourage.
Lust, bedecked in a shimmering white gown with a long train, walked with the grace of a feline. She smiled, nodded, gave princesslike waves of the hand to her adorers.
Behind her, Seleema came in purple silks, the end of one of Samson’s chains in her hand. The other end was attached to a collar affixed around Percy’s neck.
It was humiliating for both of them. A wild heat rose in my chest; I wanted to sling those chains around Lust’s pretty neck and find out how unbreakable they really were.
Meanwhile, Frank—who was shorter than me—tried to get a glimpse of the party as they made their way to the center of the room.
I gripped Frank’s shoulder. “Don’t look.”
He kept trying to peer past the crowd. “You think after she took Seleema, I’d be susceptible to her lures?”
“It’s not that.” I pressed him into his seat. “Just trust me.”
When the clapping had stopped and everyone sat down, Frank didn’t listen to me. He looked.
In the center of the room, Lust stood flanked by Seleema, Percy and her single remaining angel bodyguard. There was a clear delineation of hierarchy: Seleema and Percy didn’t stand like they were with her. They knelt like her servants, gazing up at her in adoration.
Frank growled, which I didn’t even know he was capable of. And under the table, my fists clenched at the sight.
Is Percy back under her spell?
Chapter 10
Lust set an overwhelmed hand to her chest, turning a slow circle. When her eyes swept over us, Frank and I lowered our faces toward our champagne flutes.
The sin didn’t seem to notice us. But I could have sworn the angel and I made brief eye contact across the room as he surveyed the guests.
Did he recognize me?
His eyes continued on, and I let out a sigh. Didn’t need another angel bursting through a teapot at me.
“My most esteemed ladies and gentlemen,” Lust purred. “You are too kind. I exist merely for your entertainment and pleasure, and I simply came tonight to personally introduce you to my dragon, Basil.”
GoneGodDamnit. I had briefly forgotten his new name.
Frank’s knee began a frantic jerking under the table. “Look what she’s done to Seleema.”
I set a hand on Frank’s arm, even though I was about ready to stab someone with my salad fork. If we lost our heads now, we’d never get to Percy and Ariadne later.
Lust began a slow, catlike walk around Percy, one hand trailing along his head, down his neck, toward his back. “He is a blue dragon, rarest of them all, from the UnSeelie Court. This might be the last dragon born after the gods left, and he is a rare treasure.”
Huh. Wonder how he came to be born, Lust?
Of course, she didn’t know that story. Only I did.
Everyone raised their glasses, began clinking utensils against them. The fancy folk form of clapping, I guessed.
Normally Percy would jerk away from that kind of shrill noise. But not even his tail moved as the clinking echoed through the room, and I really began to worry he’d been sucked back under.
Was Yaroz’s scent not powerful enough?
Lust had instructed Percy to spread his wings so she could show off his span. He did so without hesitation.
“Tara,” Ferris whispered in my ear. “What’s your status?”
I angled my face toward my shoulder. “Still stuck in the room with Lust. She’s showing Percy off.”
Ferris cursed. “She won’t be long. I just got a glance at her assistant’s clipboard outside the room, and she’s got another engagement in five minutes.”
“I’m afraid Percy is back under her sway,” I whispered.
Ferris sighed as though I wasn’t getting it. “Nothing is more powerful than his mother’s scent.”
“But he seems totally different. Comatose, practically.”
Ferris didn’t answer. Maybe he’d become preoccupied, or maybe he was doubtful about the efficacy of the dragon pee. Maybe he saw no point in arguing with a desperate mother.
Either way, my blood heated. Lust had crossed to the closest table, took a man by the hand and led him toward Percy for petting.
The man looked totally, gobsmackingly in love. Actually, everyone in this room did—except Frank and me. They stared only at her, mouths open, totally unconcerned with their food or drink or anything else in the world.
&nbs
p; She was the sun, and they were moths.
Lust had done her job. She’d done it in five minutes flat.
“She’s growing more powerful,” I murmured to Frank.
“You think?”
Frank and I had to sit through another ten minutes of her schmoozing and schmaltzing with the guests around her, encouraging them to toss olives into Percy’s mouth.
She giggled when they missed and hit him in the face. She laughed harder when he snorted smoke, when he extended his wings on command.
All the while, I contemplated rising from my chair and kicking her with my steel-heeled shoes. What had Ferris fitted them for, except to deliver steel to someone’s face? A shame to let them go unused.
Meanwhile, Seleema stood aside with clasped hands, her eyes permanently on Lust. The last time I’d seen Seleema in person, she’d grabbed me by the braid and yanked. I knew there was nothing she wouldn’t do for Lust. I knew if I went up there, the houri might even kill me.
She wouldn’t try—she would succeed. Because that was Seleema’s purpose now.
“She’s become Lust’s bodyguard,” Frank growled, echoing my thoughts. “Lust made my life partner into her personal bodyguard, and she dressed her in semi-transparent lavender.”
I handed Frank my flute of champagne. “Drink it fast. The burning will distract you.”
He did so, upturning the whole flute in an undignified way. He set it on the table, reached for his own. Did the same.
I’d never seen him so mad.
I set a hand on his shoulder, leaned close as Lust skipped toward Percy, leaned down while one of the guests took a picture. “Remember how you feel, Frank. Hold this in your chest.”
“I’m holding so hard I’m gonna get heartburn.”
“Good. Feel that heartburn.”
I certainly could.
At some point one of the waiters approached us. “Sir, ma’am, would you like to pet the dragon?”
“No,” Frank and I said in unison.
The waiter left. Quickly.
We waited, and not just for Lust to leave. I was waiting for a sign—any sign—that Percy wasn’t under her spell.
After twenty minutes of torture, Lust’s pink-haired assistant finally indicated she needed to get to her next engagement. The guards went to unhook Percy from his chains, and Lust took up one end of the chain around his neck, holding it like a leash attached to a chihuahua.
“Farewell, my loves. See you later tonight,” she announced to the room, blowing a Marilyn Monroe-esque kiss. Off she went, Percy following along behind with ease.
But just before he started into motion, Percy’s focus shifted away from Lust. Those golden eyes searched the room until they found me. And then they stayed.
We made eye contact for two, maybe three seconds. It was the shortest and the longest moment of my life, and I knew two things:
One, I would die a thousand times for that dragon.
Two, he was an excellent pretender.
“Frank,” I whispered, “Percy’s free from her spell.”
The moment Lust and Percy had left the room, I yanked Frank up. “Come on, Stubemeyer. We’re out of here.”
Our waiter rushed back over. “Ma’am, would you—”
“I’m real nauseous”—I pointed a finger at him—“slow me down and I might upchuck all over you, and neither of us want that.”
That did the trick.
Frank and I left as fast as my heels would take me. As we came out of the dining room and took a hard left toward the hotel’s lobby, I came face-to-rock-hard-chest with a familiar Other.
My eyes lifted, and I found myself staring into the face of Lust’s other angel bodyguard. “Box of frogs,” I muttered.
The angel stared down at me. “It is you. I thought I recognized you, small, insolent human.”
I took two steps backward, lifted one heel, and plowed it straight into the angel’s groin. I don’t care if you’re human or angel, steel heels are gonna hurt.
The angel’s hands went straight to his celestial jewels, and he doubled over.
“GoneGods …” Frank said, his face pained like every man gets when they see someone else’s testes get jangled.
I grabbed his arm. “Yeah, let’s all feel sorry for the evil angel.” Then dragged him down the hall and toward the lobby. My heels wouldn’t carry me fast enough, so I yanked them off, foot by foot, as we ran.
We’d gotten halfway into the lobby when I heard the angel’s booming voice ring out, but I didn’t slow down. In fact, I sped up.
My feet slapped across the marble, the beads on my beautiful evening dress clicking as we reached the front turnstile and pushed through it, emerging into Times Square after nightfall.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Frank said from behind me, his arm still in my grip. “You kicked an angel in the balls!”
“I sure did, Frank.” I pulled us toward a group of tourists mixing with a Batman and a Spider-Man. This looked like our kind of crowd. “You ain’t seen nothing yet. Wait until later tonight.”
We disappeared into the crowd. Far off, I could hear the angel’s voice calling out from the entrance to the hotel, but even his miraculous vision wouldn’t be able to spot us now.
When we reached a McDs on the other side of the street, we came in through the front doors and stopped for a breather. I leaned against the window, my hand on my chest.
A woman with her two little kids passed by with a tray, staring at us as they disposed of their trash. The kids really gawked, and that’s saying a lot given what you’re likely to encounter in Times Square.
Frank dropped into the nearest chair, loosening his bowtie. “We lost him?”
I glanced through the window. “We lost him.” We sat there for a while catching our breaths and staring at each other. When it was clear we weren’t being pursued, I nodded toward the registers. “Sorry we missed dinner. Happy Meal on me?”
Frank threw up his hands. “Why not?”
In fact, it was the best dinner I’d had in months; while Percy was still in Lust’s clutches, he was himself again. He knew I was coming for him.
And in a few hours, he would be truly free.
Chapter 11
Half an hour to midnight, we parked the RV as close as we could get it to Times Square. Around me, Grunt and Frank stood ready. No ninjas. Earlier in the evening, Ferris had told me he and the ninjas had been in contact with Yaroz. Apparently Ferris had developed a special way of contacting the matriarch when she was geographically close enough—his own form of a whistle—and she’d agreed to work with him during tonight’s event.
“Don’t worry, Tara,” Ferris had said to me on the phone after tonight’s dinner. “We’ll be there when it counts.”
Which left me with a posse of two.
Grunt had brought … his wits. And his mean mug. Meanwhile, Frank and I were in our volunteer shirts. But unlike the other volunteers, I had two whips hidden beneath my t-shirt and two throwing knives tucked into my boots. Hell, I had all my gear on, the whole kit and caboodle around my waist. I looked like an extra-pudgy-around-the-middle volunteer.
“You’re sure you can do it?” I said to Erik on the phone as we parked. “Don’t just say ‘yes’ because you’re hoping to get in my pants again.”
“I can do it,” he said. “And even if I’d said no, I know I could still get into your pants again.”
I smirked. He wasn’t wrong. “You’re my kind of man.”
“We’re all very likely about to die.” Frank’s fingers worried the hem of his shirt. “Can you get your head into the game, Tara?”
I half-lowered the phone. “Frank, if you were about to die, what would be the last thing in the world you’d want to do?”
He exhaled loudly in defeat. “I’d be flirting with Seleema.”
“You’d be doing a hell of a lot more than that.” I lifted the phone. “Be in touch soon, Corporal.”
“Be safe and good luck, Tara,” I heard on t
he other side of the line before I hung up.
The GoneGods knew we’d need it. Because taking one look at my crew, I wasn’t so sure we had any real shot of success. One human, one ogre, and me.
But when you’re a mom, it doesn’t even matter. Someone had taken my boy, and there was nothing that would stop me from coming for him. Nothing.
“You know your roles,” I said. “Frank, let’s get out there. That party’s probably already feeding her too much adoration.”
Grunt slid into the driver’s seat and patted the wheel. His job was to be our getaway driver, if all went well. “The ride and I are ready for whatever the night brings.”
As I turned to go, I felt a hand on my arm. It was Frank. Before I could speak, he’d enfolded me in a hug. And he was crying onto my shoulder. “Tara …”
I patted his back. “It’s all right, Frank. We’ll get her.”
“No, I have to say something.” He pressed me away, hands on my shoulders. “If Seleema were here, she would say this, but since she’s not, I’m the one. You’re our family, Tara. After all this is over, you’ll still be our family—you and Percy. Whatever happens, wherever you go, you’ll always have a home with us.”
I shook my head with a laugh to hide my own emotion. “Now who hasn’t got their head in the game?”
He stepped off the bus, and then it was just Grunt watching me, looking down at me not unlike the way he’d done the first time we’d met in that therapy session in New Orleans.
Except this time, he talked. “Little girl,” he said from the driver’s seat, “I never did tell you, but you’re a much better fighter than I ever expected.”
I half-smiled. “I did get the best of you a few times there.”
He rolled his eyes. “I held back. Every time.” And then he gestured for me to get out of the RV.
When we came off the bus, could see clearly into the night, could hear the music emanating from the square, could feel the energy in the air. This was what it all came down to.
Frank and I started down the street together, me and the accountant headed toward our two loves—
My dragon, and his houri.