“No,” Sidirov said. “I’ll take care of this myself.”
• • • • •
Those have to be security cameras, Livvy thought. The more she looked, the more she found. The smoky glass hemispheres that hung from the ceiling were everywhere. She swallowed against the lingering nausea and pressed on. The sooner she could get this done, the sooner she could leave.
Or maybe she could stop and see–
She rapidly shook her head and stopped the thought before it could finish. Her fingers kneaded into the dull ache behind her breastbone. With a last glance at the corridor behind her, she took a deep breath. She bent to the trash can in the tiny stall.
Though most of the enclosures were occupied, she’d already passed two that were open. The small, plastic trash cans had been next to the bunched up curtains. Inside, two empty yoga mats lay side by side. The Institute didn’t waste any money on furnishings–or privacy.
She lowered the empty water bottle to the trash. From the beginning, she’d assumed she’d be looking through garbage. Trying not to think of what she might be grabbing, she released the bottle but closed her fingers on whatever lay at the bottom. With her back to the closest camera, she stuffed what she’d taken into her messenger bag. Then she stood and kept moving.
Behind the curtains, Livvy heard small sounds. Occasionally the drapes were slightly parted and she caught a glimpse inside: Siberian techno-shamans in full regalia with their clients. But no intercessors. No one to take a cut of the money. But also no one to aid in a diagnosis. No one to match up the right shaman for each client. No one to ensure that both shaman and client were safe. Everyone just took their chances and paid their fees.
As Livvy approached the next trash can, she took a tissue from the wad in her front pocket and blew her nose. The best place to find something appropriate would have been in the shaman’s apartments, or at least the trash from them. But in the alley behind the building, the giant bins that used to be there were gone. This was the best she could do. As she deposited her tissue, she collected more garbage. There had to be something useful. They only needed to connect with a few shamans to start.
Behind her, the elevator dinged. Someone was coming. Livvy checked the long corridor. There had to be forty enclosures on each side, maybe more. Had someone arrived to use one of the empty ones? She had just passed another occupied room when she realized the shaman in it was alone. Only when she’d nearly passed the next one did it dawn on her that the shaman hadn’t been Siberian. Livvy stopped and backtracked. There were voices coming from the elevator, growing louder. In moments she’d be caught in the open.
Trying not to ruffle the curtains, she ducked inside the stall with the single shaman. As quietly as possible, she closed the thick hanging cloth. She heard footsteps in the long corridor. Then they paused. Livvy listened intently, trying to hear over the pounding of her heart. There was some muffled conversation and the sound of a curtain being drawn. She exhaled. Just before she was about to leave, she glanced behind.
Why is this shaman alone?
As Livvy took a closer look, something about this woman seemed oddly familiar. She was heavyset and black and didn’t wear the silk robes or cap. Instead, her dark and tightly curled hair was close-cropped and she wore large gold hoop earrings. Despite the acrid smells of human waste and decay, Livvy leaned closer. Even with the large goggles, Livvy recognized the round face.
“Tamara?” she said.
Livvy reached out and touched Tamara’s hand and a little spark popped, but there was no response. Not that she’d expected any as Tamara journeyed in the Multiverse. But Tamara’s breathing was very shallow and her skin dry with goose bumps. Livvy remembered what Dominique had said about some shamans joining the Institute for a place to live.
Someone in the stall next to them coughed. Livvy stood but hesitated, seeing herself reflected in Tamara’s goggles. Something here was very wrong. Another cough sounded, louder and more pained. Then there came a moan. Livvy needed to go. She grabbed whatever was in the trash and stuffed it in her bag. She parted the curtain just a fraction and checked the corridor. It was clear. With one last anxious glance at Tamara, Livvy slipped into the hallway and closed the curtain. She passed another shaman who was alone. Though Livvy tried to move quietly and methodically, a mounting sense of dread sped her along. Behind her in the corridor, next to the stall where Tamara lay, there were voices and the curtain moved.
Hurry.
As Livvy reached the end of the corridor, she looked behind her. A silk-robed shaman was adjusting her cap and shoving the curtain aside. As silently as possible, Livvy opened the stairwell door. She all but leapt through. As fast as her feet would take her, she descended the dark stairs. In seconds, she pivoted, reversed direction, and was at the next floor. Her hip throbbed in protest, but before she knew what she was doing, she’d jumped down the last few steps and exited.
For a breathless few moments, she just blinked. Whether it was what she’d intended or not, she didn’t know, but she realized where she was: Brad’s floor. His apartment was just over–
The stairwell door behind her burst open. Before Livvy could turn, a hand grabbed her roughly behind the neck as a spark popped between them.
“Forgot your way?”
• • • • •
Did someone call my name?
Brad turned down the volume on the TV. That was strange. Maybe it’d been his imagination. It’d even sounded like–
“Brad!” she screamed from the hall.
He jumped up from the couch and was through the front door before she could scream again.
“Livvy!” he yelled. What the hell? Sidirov had her pinned to the wall. Just as the big man was turning, Brad barreled forward and shoved. “Get off her!”
Sidirov let go and stumbled backward, nearly toppling over. Only colliding with the wall kept him upright.
“Livvy,” Brad said. “Are you all right?” He turned her around to face him.
“Brad,” she gasped. A trickle of blood ran down the outside of her left eye. Her eyebrow was cut.
“Livvy!” he gasped, reaching up.
Her face was flushed and she was breathing hard, but she seemed able to focus.
“You,” Sidirov said. “Boy!”
Brad put Livvy behind him and whirled to face the fat man. Sidirov’s bloated face was twisted in anger. Brad matched him, glare for glare. The pig had dared to touch his girl.
“You’re gonna regret that,” Brad growled.
The window at the end of the hallway darkened. Thunder boomed so loudly that the glass shook. Though Sidirov had already crouched into something that resembled a wrestler’s stance, his eyes flicked to the rattling pane.
“Brad,” Livvy said.
“Just stay there,” Brad replied, keeping an eye on Sidirov. Though wide, the head of the Institute wasn’t as tall as him. He could take him.
“No,” Livvy said, grabbing his arm. “Please.”
Again, thunder pealed outside.
“What’s in the purse?” Sidirov asked her, eyeing the messenger bag.
“Nothing,” she said.
“None of your business,” Brad said.
Sidirov stood up straighter. Maybe he was taller than he seemed.
“Business?” Sidirov said, grinning at him. “That’s exactly what it is–my business.” He turned a suspicious look on Livvy. “What were you doing upstairs?”
“She’s here to see me,” Brad said. “Leave her alone.”
“Hmph,” Sidirov said. “I don’t think so.”
Brad stepped in front of her again and closer to Sidirov. “I told you,” he said through clenched teeth, his hands tightening into fists and Livvy tugging on his arm. “She’s here to see me.” Sidirov’s grin was infuriating. “Maybe you’d like to take it up with Valentin,” Brad suggested. “He knows she’s here.”
It was a bluff, but Brad knew it was a safe one.
Sidirov’s grin wavered. His eyes s
hifted from Livvy and then back to him.
“I’m here to see Brad,” Livvy said.
Sidirov’s thick lips pursed while he seemed to consider his next move. Brad thought of Livvy behind him. Though it’d been brief, he’d felt her hand on his arm. Sidirov straightened his coat. Then he tucked in the end of the ridiculously thin tie.
Brad relaxed a little but adrenalin was coursing through him.
“Hmph,” Sidirov muttered, still eyeing Livvy. Though Brad didn’t know why, there was loathing in his fat face. “Here to see the boy,” Sidirov muttered. He all but leered at her, and Brad felt instant fury. “Better be, Lightning Shaman. Better be.”
Something passed between them. Do they know each other? Brad shot glances at both of them. Livvy was watching Sidirov closely. Sidirov was studying the dark window behind them. Without another word, the big man slowly turned and walked away. Brad watched him as he clomped down the corridor. Just before he’d left, there’d been a distinct look of disgust.
“Thank you, Brad,” Livvy said.
Brad waited as Sidirov took his time. It was several long moments before he rounded the corner at the end of the hall. He’d given them one final, sideways glare. Brad heard the call button of the elevator. By the time he faced Livvy, she was heading to the stairwell. He just caught her arm. Though a stinging, bright spark popped between them, he ignored it.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
Though she stopped, she didn’t turn to him. “I’ve…got to go,” she said.
“Let me look at your forehead,” he said, forcing her to turn toward him.
“It’s fine,” she said, looking at the ground.
“Just let me see,” he said.
He suddenly realized they’d never stood so close. His heart beat wildly and he almost couldn’t breathe, but he reached under her chin and gently lifted. Though he should have been looking at the small gash, he couldn’t take his eyes off hers. They were the most mesmerizing shade of emerald, but her gaze was troubled.
“It was me you came to see,” he said lowly. “Wasn’t it?”
Her lower lip trembled. “I…I…” she said, trying to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. “Yes. I came to see you.”
Her pupils were huge. The potion was definitely working. He inched a little closer and grasped her at the shoulders.
“I think I know why you’re here,” he said, trying hard not to squeeze her.
“You do?” she whispered. Her eyes widened and she clutched the pendant on her chest.
“Yeah, I do,” he said, grinning. He could hardly believe this was happening. “Because you love me.”
A flurry of emotions seemed to pass over her face. She started to nod but then shook her head.
“Isn’t that right?” he said, coaxing her. “Because you love me?”
“I love…” she said and sucked in a breath. “Oh gods,” she whispered.
He grasped her a little tighter. “It’s okay,” he said. “You can say it.”
She looked down between them again and took a deep breath. But when she looked back up, her eyes were filled with tears.
“I love SK,” she whispered and squeezed her eyes shut as tears trickled down her cheeks.
It took a few moments for her words to sink in. “What?”
“I love SK,” she said again, opening her eyes.
But that…that wasn’t possible. “No,” Brad said, gripping her hard. “That’s not right. You love me. That’s why you’re here.”
“I know,” she said, nodding. “I know. But I love SK, too.” She covered her mouth to stifle a sob.
What?
Brad pushed her away. She reached out for him but then clutched her chest. She groaned as she hit the stairwell door.
“You love that dwarf?” Brad demanded. “That little half man?”
“Please…don’t say that,” she managed to say.
“He doesn’t deserve you,” Brad yelled. “I do!”
“Brad,” she said, breathing hard, sliding along the door, then the wall. “Please don’t.”
That’s not how the potion was supposed to work. She can’t love two people. Only me! Maybe he had used too much. He stared at the pendant on her chest. Or maybe it hadn’t been enough.
“You need some tea,” he said and reached for her.
“No!” she said and grabbed the doorknob.
With a quick twist, she opened it and threw the door open wide. Brad had to jump to avoid it.
Inside the stairwell, she teetered at the top of the stairs. At the last second, she grabbed the handrail on the wall, then took a few faltering steps down. For a moment, Brad thought of hauling her back up.
“I have to go,” she said in a shaky voice.
“Go,” he yelled. “Go!” he screamed and slammed the door closed.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
IF SK HADN’T known better, he’d have said Liv was anxious to visit the Institute. She’d taken Dominique’s car and left so fast there’d barely been time to say goodbye. Not that it’d been much of a goodbye. You couldn’t say much if someone wouldn’t look at you.
He signaled right, glanced into the rear view mirror, and got in the slow lane.
Getting turned away by Ursula and then turned down by Wan-li hadn’t exactly been fun, but it’d at least taken his mind off Liv. As he got closer to home, the more his thoughts returned to her. What would it be this evening? Another dinner alone, another stilted phone conversation? Alvina’s offer of work in Palm Springs was something they hadn’t even talked about, but should they?
He signaled right again and took the freeway exit.
The exchange with Wan-li came back to him. She’d put into words what he’d already suspected. The Water Baby and Lightning Shaman weren’t just ideally suited. The relationship might be exclusive–at least for him.
At the end of the off-ramp, he stopped at the red light, the first car in line. A homeless man with a small cardboard sign began his shambling procession up the side of the cars. Though unshaven, filthy, and dressed in worn fatigues, he seemed young. But the strange thing about him wasn’t the man himself, it was his two dogs. The small, shaggy mutts were staring at SK.
He cocked his head a little, watching them, and in unison, they did the same. Then their tails wagged.
“What?” SK murmured.
Though the homeless man was trying to make progress, the short leashes went taut. Both dogs began an excited and animated bark, tugging against him, and trying to get closer to the car. SK leaned away from the door. The determined dog owner put his weight into a savage tug and started dragging the poor animals behind him. SK frowned, watching in the side mirror, as the man hauled the dogs past the next car in line. That car had stopped some twenty feet back. SK looked up into the rearview mirror, as much to see that driver’s reaction to the dogs, as why they’d stopped so far back. But then he paused, scrutinizing the car.
Is that the same black Camaro that followed me onto the freeway?
In a city as big as L.A., it wasn’t unthinkable that a couple of cars would use the same onramp and exit, but it was unusual. The light turned green and SK made the right. Without moving his head, he checked the rearview mirror. The Camaro rounded the corner in back of him. For three blocks, they drifted steadily back. Two cars merged into the lane between them. But SK got into the left lane and, eventually, so did they. On a hunch, SK passed up his own street. Instead of making a left toward the ocean, he moved back to the right lane without a signal. The Camaro did the same.
How long have they been back there? Since Ursula’s? Since Wan-li’s?
He had started speeding. He took his hand off the gas.
The men outside Mayet’s window–they’d driven something similar. Were the men following him wearing black polo shirts? It was hard to tell in the mirror. He wanted a closer look.
“See how you like this,” he muttered.
He made a quick right. At the end of the block was a bus stop where the cu
rb was painted red. He pulled over and parked. There was no bus in sight. Instead, the Camaro rounded the corner and SK waited. He peered into the side view mirror, but as he did, the Camaro’s tires screeched. The driver had floored it. The engine roared and the black vehicle shot by him. The other windows had been tinted. It raced through the intersection. As SK pulled out a horn blared from behind. He hadn’t checked oncoming traffic. Tires squealed just to his left and he braced for the impact, but a blue Prius swerved wide, barely missing him.
“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath.
He checked both his mirrors, crossed the intersection, and pulled over to an empty meter. Sweating, heart racing, he put the car in park. But by the time he looked down the street, the black Camaro was gone.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
SURPRISE SURPRISE, THOUGHT Dominique. At least one of the Siberian shamans is from someplace cold. She surveyed the icy landscape of the Underworld. The terrain was completely snowbound, though not flat. She stood just inside a dense forest of some type. The crooked boughs of bent trees hung low with thick drapes of ice.
Nicole popped into existence behind her. It never took long.
“I guess it worked,” Nicole said.
Yes, Dominique thought. The nkondi works quite well.
“I don’t think we should be doing this without Livvy,” Nicole said.
After the way Nicole had disappeared from the Multiverse, the last thing Dominique wanted was an audience.
“We’re just making sure the nkondi actually works,” Dominique replied. “We didn’t know what we had.”
“Well, now that we know, I don’t think we should stay.”
Dominique regarded her sister with a long, sideways look. Nicole seemed a little nervous. “What’s your hurry?” Dominique asked.
“No hurry,” Nicole replied, glancing around at the dark trees. “You know. You delay, you stay.”
Shaman, Lover, Warrior: An Urban Fantasy Thriller (Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Book 5) Page 15