He took down the number of my brand-new burner phone. I switched numbers every few months. The not-so-anonymous death threats got old, and I figured why make it easier for Gaston to find me.
I could still feel Sawyer’s eyes on me when I left the deli. As my mother always said, once a necromancer, always a necromancer. A bone-conjurer in the mix spelled danger, but I wasn’t going to stop searching for Alex, especially now that I knew he was linked to my aunts.
Chapter Nine
That night, I camped out at the Dead House at the abandoned fort. The stone troll was right where I’d left him, which was comforting. There was no evidence that Jasper had been back. I parked the Caddy in the empty lot across from the Dead House and triple-warded it before I snuck inside.
I slept soundly for the first time in weeks.
The next morning, I stepped into a day that gleamed bright and clear. It was as if the storm hadn’t even happened, if you ignored the snow crunching underfoot.
I needed to get my hands on a bloodstone, two if I could, but one was essential. I could protect myself from magic, but Elizabeth was defenseless. I’d give her the amulet and then dump her. I needed a clear head and no distractions.
I hopped into the Caddy and drove until I found Hennepin. I passed a Masonic temple, a comic-book store, and an Irish pub, before I finally found a bank. I needed to make a withdrawal. The amulet wouldn’t be cheap. I had money stashed away, a lot of it. I relied on good luck—and if I had to, hard work—for money for my minimal day-to-day expenses. I liked knowing that if my luck ran out someday, I’d have something to fall back on.
I’d discovered a long time ago that the old saw was true: Money didn’t buy happiness. On the other hand, poverty sucked. I’d discovered that, too.
I needed cash to buy what I needed. The kind of people who had what I needed didn’t exactly take Visa.
I filled out a withdrawal slip and got in line for the teller. I sorted through my IDs to find the one I would need and handed it over with my slip when my turn came.
“How would you like this, Mr. Fortuna?” the teller asked.
“Hundreds, please,” I replied.
I looked around nervously. I half expected my aunts to show up, hissing about ill-gotten gains, but the transaction went smoothly and I exited the bank without spotting them. It was pure stubbornness that made me cling to the name Fortuna. It was my mother’s name and when I heard it, I thought of her.
I walked along Hennepin, trying to get a feel for any magic lurking inside the restaurants, bars, and clothing stores that lined the street.
I wandered for blocks without picking up anything, but finally caught a faint trace of magic.
I looked around and paid attention to my surroundings for the first time in hours. It had grown dark during my search and I was in the seedy part of town. But the trace of magic was coming from a pawnshop on the corner.
The sign read ETERNITY ROAD PAWNSHOP. There was the usual stuff in the windows, a brass trumpet, a couple of diamond rings, and an old moth-eaten fox stole that screamed to me of its death. There was no sign of the bloodstone I was seeking, but I didn’t really expect it to be in a display window.
The bell over the door clanged when I entered, but the store was empty. The interior was crammed with floor-to-ceiling shelving and a stack of wooden chairs created a wobbly tower in one corner.
An enormous stuffed bear stood in the other, poised to strike, but there was a mischievous expression on its face. The shop reminded me of my mother’s closet, safe and warm and stuffed full of fabulous trinkets.
“Hello?” I said. “Is anyone here?”
There was no answer, but I felt magic somewhere in the store. A jewelry case contained cut-rate diamonds. The bottom case held an emerald that sparkled with magic and two bloodstones, imbued with protective power.
A mannequin was dressed in a shimmering gown with a dusty feather boa around the neck. On her head was a cloche hat with one faded silk flower.
When I was fifteen, my mother’s luck started to run out. She’d sold or traded magical items before, but they were mere trinkets. I was too stupid to know that what she’d done was something different, something drastic. She’d sold the diviner’s ring, the pack of gilded tarot cards, and the pair of golden dice, but she held on to her necklace.
When I closed my eyes, I could see the charms: a black cat carved from Indian ebony, the little coral fish, an emerald frog, a diamond-studded key, a miniature book, an ivory wheel of fortune, and a horseshoe made of moonstones. The diamond-studded key hung on the chain around my neck. I was still looking for the rest. The charms held all of Lady Fortuna’s luck and I was determined to find them.
As I examined the exotic and mundane items, something drew me to the display case behind the old-fashioned register. I knew I was in the right place when I saw the gleam of a dragon’s scale, a lapis lazuli ring taken from the hand of a murdered king, and one perfect bloodstone.
“Can I help you?” When I turned around, a younger guy wearing designer jeans and a shirt with a unicorn on it stood there. His auburn hair was sculpted into place with a precision that revealed a fondness for hair products.
“How much for the bloodstone?” I asked. A bloodstone held strong protective magic. It would be my parting gift to Elizabeth. After that, I’d stay away from her until I found her brother.
“It’s not for sale,” he said flatly. That’d work for the tourists, but not for me.
He didn’t look like he belonged in a musty old pawnshop, but it was clear this was not an ordinary shop and he was not an ordinary guy. His eyes gave him away. They were green, but shone with odd silvery specks. Silverlight.
When I was little, my mother had taken me to visit a very powerful sorcerer. The man was kind and had given me a tin bear, which he’d enchanted and made to dance. I was shy and hid in my mother’s skirts, but not before I noticed the sorcerer’s eyes, which had the same silvery gray specks as the man standing before me. I was almost sure he was a sorcerer from the House of Zeus. “How much for the bloodstone?” I asked again.
“What does a pretty boy like you want with something so powerful?”
The House of Zeus was the top dog, which may have accounted for his superior air. His eyes swept over me, searching for a marking that would announce my allegiance. He wouldn’t find one.
His was easy to spot. He wore a silver ring with an oak leaf engraved on it. Their ceremonial robes used to be embroidered with a thunderbolt, but that caused a little confusion after a popular children’s book featured a boy with a lightning-bolt scar. The House of Zeus then adopted a simple oak leaf as its symbol.
Everyone deferred to the House of Zeus, except the Fates. Even a sorcerer from the House of Zeus, the most powerful sorcerer’s family there was, wouldn’t take on a Fate.
“The unicorn tee’s a nice touch,” I said.
He blinked but didn’t say a word.
“Cut the crap,” I said.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“That’s not important,” I said impatiently. “How much?”
“I’m afraid your identity is essential,” he responded. “I don’t sell items of power to just anybody.”
The gleam in his eyes told me he enjoyed messing with me.
“If you don’t know who I am, you don’t have the power I thought,” I said. “And if you do, stop screwing with me and sell me the bloodstone.”
He gave me a slow nod. “It’ll cost you.”
“I have plenty of cash,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t need money,” he said.
“What do you want?”
A large man came out of the back. He bore a strong resemblance to the pain in the ass I was currently haggling with. “Talbot, quit annoying the customers,” he said jovially. “I must apologize for my son.”
As he drew nearer, his smile froze and he mumbled something under his breath.
Whatever it was, it was a doozy. “Pop!” Ta
lbot said, shocked.
The big man ignored his son and trained his gimlet gaze on me. “What brings you to Eternity Road?”
“I need a bloodstone,” I said. “Red jasper. You have one. Will you sell it to me?” A bloodstone of red jasper was the most powerful protective amulet I knew of.
He narrowed his eyes as he considered my question. “Only time will tell.”
“I’m afraid all I have to offer is cold hard cash.”
He stared at me, but I met his eyes and his frown finally disappeared. “Well, then, let’s do business,” he said.
“Thank you,” I replied. “I’ll take the bloodstone and that moonstone, too.”
We settled on a price, which took a good portion of the wad of hundreds, and he handed me the stones.
I asked, “Can I see that ring?” I pointed to the lapis lazuli.
His smile told me that I was going to be paying through the nose for it.
“What does it do?” I feigned disinterest, but the ring had called to me from the moment I saw it.
His eyes didn’t reveal what he was thinking, but I detected a tiny frown hovering around his lips. “I thought you might already be familiar with its finer points,” he said.
I tried to keep my expression neutral, but he knew he had me. That ring could come in handy. Lapis lazuli was often used in divination, but that ring was exceptionally powerful.
“I have heard of it,” I said evasively. “How much is it gonna cost me?”
He named a figure that made me quickly suppress a gasp. “That’s serious money,” I said. “I’ll think about it. Can you hold it for me?” I hesitated and then added, “Or any similar items.”
He nodded. “For you, I’ll hold it for a week, but I can’t promise anything longer than that.”
He put my purchases in a cheap plastic bag and handed me a business card. I glanced at it briefly. It read AMBROSE BARDOFF, PROPRIETOR, ETERNITY ROAD, in an elaborate Gothic script. There was additional wording beneath his name, in letters too small for me to decipher. I shoved it into my coat pocket and left the store.
I had the bloodstone, which would protect Elizabeth if I couldn’t.
I didn’t see how the Fates were connected to Alex’s disappearance. Fear wasn’t an emotion I associated with my aunts. Their policy was usually kill first and ask questions later.
Chapter Ten
I drove to Elizabeth’s. I rubbed my temples, trying to stave off a headache, and gritted my teeth as I accelerated through yellow lights all the way there. What were my options? My plan for vengeance wasn’t going exactly as planned.
One of the things I quickly realized was that finding a thread was not enough. I needed to cut it myself. I wasn’t going to hand it over and give Morta the satisfaction of snipping it in two. After I found my thread of fate, I’d have to steal her golden scissors to cut it. I closed my eyes and pictured the charms dangling from my mother’s silver chain, the chain I now wore around my neck.
I found Elizabeth and Jenny in the kitchen. “You were gone a long time,” Elizabeth said.
“Afraid he stole the silver and left town?” Jenny asked baldly.
I’d thought about it. Not making off with the silver, but leaving Minneapolis.
“Did you find out anything?” Elizabeth asked.
“Not much,” I replied. “I stopped by the company he worked at. They said he quit.”
“That’s not like Alex,” Elizabeth said. “He never quits anything.”
Jenny sighed, clearly no longer interested in our conversation. “I’m making Cornish game hen for dinner.”
Elizabeth and I had plans, real plans. My original plan had been to take her out, give her the bloodstone, and end it. But now that I knew my aunts were involved, I needed Elizabeth for information. I’d get her drunk and see if anything slipped. I didn’t want to do it in front of the ever-watchful Jenny.
“It’s almost time to leave for the movie,” I said. I ignored Jenny, who was, as usual, hovering within earshot.
“Why don’t we just stay in?” Elizabeth suggested. “After all, Jenny went to the trouble of cooking.”
I gave her a pleading look and she relented.
“We have plans,” Elizabeth told Jenny. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you ahead of time.”
“What plans?” Jenny pried.
“Just dinner and a movie,” I said. Jenny smiled at her. “Have fun.”
Elizabeth blushed and I leaned into her and said, “You’re cute when you blush.”
“Give us a minute, handsome,” Jenny ordered.
“I’ll wait by the car,” I said. I put on all the layers necessary for a Minnesota winter and left the house. I half expected her to drag Jenny along with us, but Elizabeth was alone when she finally showed up fifteen minutes later.
It was just enough time for me to get nervous. It sounded too intimate, just the two of us on a real date, and I didn’t do intimacy. Besides, I hadn’t been on a date in what felt like a hundred years.
“C’mon, let’s go somewhere,” I said. “I have money burning a hole in my pocket.”
She didn’t answer me, but her expression was woeful.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m an asshole to mention money to a rich girl like you. You’re probably used to nicer places than I can afford. I was thinking an upscale pizza place.”
“I’m not rich,” she said. “Until a few years ago, when my mom married my stepdad, Mom and I sometimes had trouble paying the rent.”
I felt like an ass for upsetting her. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” I said.
“You’re not the first person to think that I’m a spoiled little rich girl,” she replied.
“I don’t think you’re spoiled,” I said.
She gazed into my eyes for a long time, long enough that I was starting to feel nervous, with a somber expression. She finally said, “I thought you were taking me to dinner.”
I felt the tension leave my shoulders. “That’s the plan. The restaurant’s only a few blocks away. Do you feel like walking?”
“I’d love a walk,” she replied.
Meeting her had changed every plan I’d ever made, but I could manage to take her to dinner without insulting her or putting her in danger. At least I hoped I could.
When we stepped outside, the wind snapped at our faces and I stopped to wind her scarf more securely around her neck.
Our eyes met and I wanted to kiss her, but instead, I took her hand and we continued walking.
“I’ve been lucky, you know,” she said. “I didn’t mean to whine.”
“Lucky?” I asked. “You know what my mother taught me? That you make your own luck.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Some people are so busy seeing the bad that they miss the good, even when it’s right in front of them.”
“I can see that,” she said. “If you’re looking for luck, then you’re ready when you spot something worth keeping.”
I said, “I don’t want to miss out because I’m too busy to notice.”
“Does that mean you’re not going to leave?” she said.
I shrugged. “How hard can it be to find one guy?”
“You’ll help me?”
“Only because you asked me to.” I thought that would make her happy, but she frowned.
“Nyx, maybe you shouldn’t do it after all,” she said.
“Don’t you want me to stay?”
“Of course!”
We’d reached the restaurant, but when she started to go in, I stopped her.
“I have something for you.” I draped the bloodstone necklace around her neck and adjusted it so that the stone didn’t show. She shivered when my fingers grazed the soft skin near the vee of her sweater.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. “What is it?”
“It’s protection,” I told her.
“Not exactly the kind of protection I had in mind for tonight,” she said drily.
I broke
into stunned laughter. I could feel the tips of my ears turn red and it wasn’t from the cold. “You must be freezing. Let’s go inside.”
We checked our coats and sat on a hard wooden bench while we waited to be seated.
I cleared my throat. “The pizza here is supposed to be authentic Napolitano style.”
“Have you ever been to Italy?” she asked.
“I was born there,” I replied.
I was rescued from her expectant silence by a woman in a black dress who had arrived to show us to our table.
Elizabeth’s face was full of questions, and I knew I wouldn’t get away with vague answers.
“What was it like, growing up in Italy?” she asked.
The server brought out a basket of crusty rolls and I crammed one quickly into my mouth, which saved me from talking. I wasn’t really ready to talk about my childhood, which had occurred several hundred years before she was even born. What would it be like to finally be able to age? Would it happen if my aunts were dead? Or was my hidden thread the only thing holding me back from a normal life? I wished I had the answer.
I thought about what it would feel like to see Elizabeth grow old while I stayed trapped in this young body. It wasn’t a pretty picture.
I started to choke and Elizabeth handed me a glass of water. “Are you okay?” she asked anxiously.
I tried to chew elegantly, but the roll had turned into a lump in my mouth. I finally managed to swallow and took a big gulp of water. I pretended to be engrossed in the menu while I regained my equilibrium.
“They have a bianco pizza with shrimp,” I said. “Want to share a pie?”
“I’m deathly allergic to shrimp,” she said.
The thought of her being so vulnerable freaked me out. “You’re careful?”
“Extremely careful,” she assured me. “And I always carry an EpiPen, just in case.”
“Good,” I said.
She turned her attention to her menu. “How about a Margherita pizza and an order of tiramisu?”
“Sure,” I said.
After we placed our order, the conversation turned to the questions I dreaded, but were part of normal social interaction. Or so I’d read.
Strange Fates (Nyx Fortuna) Page 7