The Kat Dubois Chronicles: The Complete Series (Echo World Book 2)

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  My heart skipped a beat or three. It wasn’t there.

  My lips parted, and I ran through the events of the previous night. I’d removed it when I was undressing, and I’d set it somewhere . . . but where? It hadn’t exactly been my main focus at the time.

  I stood and headed back to the bedroom, inching the door open and poking my head through the crack to give the room a quick scan. The necklace was there on the nightstand, the pendant glinting in the dull, gray light of the overcast morning.

  The burst of adrenaline I’d felt during the few seconds that I feared I’d lost my necklace abated, and I could breathe a little easier. I tiptoed into the bedroom and retrieved it, then returned to the living room once more, easing the door shut behind me. Dom was already talking to me as I secured the clasp behind my neck.

  “Where have you been?” he demanded. “I’ve been trying to get through to you for hours. You know I don’t like it when you take the necklace off. I need to be able to speak to you whenever I—”

  “I was having sex.” I perched on the edge of the couch and looked at the compact, meeting Dom’s silvery stare. We had an agreement, he and I—I would only remove the pendant during amorous moments, and he would keep his incorporeal mouth shut about my perceived promiscuity. This was the first time I’d tested that agreement.

  Dom pressed his lips together into a thin, flat line. “I couldn’t get through to you for the entire night.”

  I raised a single eyebrow, smirking. “It was a lot of sex.”

  His expression was flat, unamused.

  “So what did you find out?”

  He blinked and, just like that, was back to business. “None of the kids Neffe and Aset took back to Bainbridge are showing signs of the illness, but apparently some of them are missing.”

  “Missing?”

  Dom nodded. “It would seem we did not rescue all of the children who were abducted. Some, like this Sammy, were taken away. They were never seen again by the children still in the holding cells. Rumors spread about the missing children being killed, or even escaping, but none knew for sure.”

  “How many disappeared?”

  “Seven,” Dom said. “Heru has people checking in with all of the hospitals in the area, but so far, there’s no sign of an outbreak cropping up anywhere but in the Tent District.”

  “It might be too soon for anything specific to have been noted, let alone reported. It is flu season, after all.” I chewed the inside of my cheek and nodded to myself. “Let me know if they find anything, or if they hear anything new.”

  Dom raised a single brow, his smirk mirroring mine from just moments ago. “So long as I can get through to you, of course.”

  It was my turn to level a flat look at him. “Of course.”

  “Neffe and Aset have requested blood samples from the victims, but they’re too busy to collect the samples themselves.”

  “So, what—they want me to do it?”

  “No,” Dom said. “Not with the warrant out for your arrest.”

  “So you heard about that . . .”

  “The whole state has by now,” Dom said dryly. “You need to stay put. Nik is going. He’s meeting with Dorman at noon.”

  I sat up straighter and glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was half past ten.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Dom said, “and yes, little sister, it would be a very bad idea for you to go out right now, what with your image so fresh in everyone’s minds.”

  My finger tapped against my thigh, and I stared at the blank wall beside the TV stand. What if I didn’t have to go out? What if I could see what happened at the meeting, from here? My sheut made it so the things I drew had power, sometimes even seeming to come to life. Sometimes becoming real, if only for a moment. If I drew a likeness of Dorman’s office on the living room wall, would it just be a pretty picture, or would it become something more—a window to what was actually happening in the Tent District? It was a long shot, but I thought, just maybe, not an impossible one.

  “Kat . . .”

  “What?” I reached for the deck of tarot cards and started to shuffle. “I promise not to step a single foot through that door,” I said, nodding in the direction of the condo’s front door. If I could make my own, magical window, I wouldn’t have to.

  “Good.”

  I shuffled again. “Now hush.” Another shuffle. “I need to concentrate.”

  What’s in the cards for me today? I let the question roll around in my mind, let it saturate every cell in my body, let it flow from me into the cards. They wouldn’t tell me exactly what to do or what would happen, but they would give me an idea of what to expect. They’d help guide me in maybe not the right direction, but the necessary one. I honestly didn’t know how it worked, but somehow I would feel when the cards were ready. A little zing of power, of energy. When I felt that, I just knew.

  I set the cards down on the coffee table’s black-stained surface and cut the deck. I didn’t always cut, and almost never into three piles like so many tarot readers, but today had the potential to be a big day. An important day. I wanted to make sure I heard whatever messages the universe had for me, loud and clear. So, I cut the deck once more and let my hand hover over each pile for a few seconds, first the leftmost, then the middle one, then the one on the right. I returned to the middle pile. It hummed with an almost electric charge.

  “Loud and clear,” I murmured, picking up the middle pile and stacking it on top of the others. I flipped the top card and set it on the table.

  Justice. I wasn’t surprised to find that the major arcana card had altered itself, as my cards so often did. The Justice card currently showed Dorman, the unofficial leader of the Tent District, standing in front of a chain-link fence topped with razor wire—the perimeter surrounding his kingdom. His expression was stern, and he held a sword in his right hand—my sword, Mercy, with her silver pommel and crystalline At blade—a set of scales in the other, weighing a dripping heart against a pristine white feather. A creature with the body of a lion and the head of a crocodile lurked at the very edge of the card, the Egyptian god Ammut, waiting to eat the heart of the judged should it prove unworthy.

  I took it as a good sign that this card showed up first and that Dorman was the central figure. The Justice card itself represents balance, objectivity, and accountability. In general, it’s a positive card, especially since it was currently appearing in a time of relative chaos. To me, it suggested that following my current path, seeking salvation and justice for those under Dorman’s care, was the right thing—the necessary thing—to do. It meant that finding a solution to the problem Dorman had lain at my feet would ensure that universal balance, or ma’at to my people, was maintained.

  I slid the Justice card to the side and flipped the next card from the deck.

  The Hermit. Traditionally, this card represents healing, self-exploration, and a general need for self-reliance and alone time. While I thought all of that sounded kind of nice for me, I didn’t think it was talking about me—or, at least, not just me. The card depicted Nik, shirtless so his tattooed torso was displayed in all its glory. His side was to the viewer, his head bowed and his arm outstretched, like he was reaching for someone or something just out of frame. He stood on a polished floor of At, my sword held in his grasp, the tip nearly skimming the floor. The crystalline blade dripped with blood.

  Mercy showing up twice was far from a coincidence, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she represented something more than her pure, deadly self. I couldn’t shake the sense that she represented me.

  A little unnerved, I drew the next card and flipped it over.

  Queen of Swords. Once again, Constance Ward, the Chairman of the Board and CEO of the Ouroboros Corporation, stared out at me from her throne. The only difference from how the card had looked when I’d drawn it back in the library was that Constance now had a sword sticking out of her chest. My sword. Did it mean I would kill her after all? The thought spurred images of her
children in my mind, and my chest tightened. There had to be another way.

  I moved my hand to the deck to draw another card, but the electric hum had faded. The magic was gone. The universe had shared all it would for now.

  With a sigh, I relaxed back into the couch and stared out through the nearest window at the cityscape gleaming in the light of a gloriously dreary Seattle morning. Dorman as Justice, Nik as the Hermit, Constance once again appearing as the Queen of Swords, and Mercy showing up on all three cards—what did it all mean?

  I started when the bedroom door opened. I’d been so caught up in thinking about the reading that I hadn’t heard Garth moving around in the bedroom.

  “Morning,” he said, strolling into the living room in only his underwear. He stopped beside the couch and bent down to kiss the top of my head.

  I reached out to snap the compact closed, but not before I caught Dom’s raised eyebrow. “Hey.” I tilted my head back, offering Garth my lips.

  He kissed me, gentle as ever, his fingertips caressing my neck. I felt him smile against my lips before pulling away. He headed into the kitchen and started fiddling with a coffeepot. “I’d offer to make breakfast”—he craned his neck to glance at the clock on the microwave—“or lunch, but I really have to get to the station.”

  “No worries,” I told him, standing and following him into the kitchen. I stopped at the island and leaned on the counter with my elbows. “I can fend for myself.”

  Garth laughed, low and throaty. “I have no doubt, but I’m trying to impress you.”

  I snorted. “Stop trying,” I said. “I’m thoroughly impressed. Honestly, I had no idea you were so . . . creative.” It was the best word I could come up with to sum up all we’d done the previous night.

  He glanced at me over his shoulder, eyebrows dancing.

  My neck and cheeks heated.

  “I’m going to hop in the shower while the coffee brews,” Garth said, turning and making his way back to the bedroom. “Join me if you want . . .”

  I grinned. Oh, I wanted.

  Chapter Ten

  Garth was out of the condo by eleven. He left me his personal cell phone, taking only his work phone with him. He also left me with a key to his place, along with the warning that I should only leave the condo if it was absolutely necessary. Like, emergency necessary.

  I can be rash, but I’m not stupid. I was fully aware that lying low had to be my top priority, and it was a little annoying that both Dom and Garth expressed concern over me leaving the condo. Like I just wouldn’t be able to resist frolicking out the door and gallivanting all around the city. Like my self-control was nil. But I had zero plans to gallivant. I mean, come on, I’m not even the gallivanting type.

  Even so, I wanted to get the inside scoop on that meeting between Nik and Dorman. The longer I pondered the three cards I’d drawn, the more I thought that maybe, just maybe, I needed to be included in the meeting in the Tent District, even if I was only there remotely. Both Nik and Dorman had been incorporated into the designs, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that their appearances were significant, like they were pointing me toward the meeting. It was more of a whisper from the universe than a scream, this time, but that didn’t make the message matter any less.

  As soon as Garth shut the condo’s front door, I rushed to the sectional to retrieve my backpack and unzipped the front pocket to dig out a black Sharpie, then I grabbed Dom’s compact and crossed to the kitchen island. I set him up on the corner, giving him a good view of the wall beside the TV. If I didn’t let him watch what I was attempting, he’d bug me nonstop.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, and I shushed him. Case in point.

  Barefoot and wearing only Garth’s T-shirt, I stood before the blank, white wall and uncapped the pen. I pictured the room in the back of the makeshift hospital, recalling exactly what it had looked like through that doorway with all those cots and the poor, sick kiddos. My drawings could be realistic, verging on lifelike, but I had no idea if this would work. Didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.

  I started by drawing a tall rectangle on the wall. That was the doorway in the hangar. I added rows of occupied cots, spending a few minutes giving each sick kid some memorable details. I closed my eyes, imagining what the scene would be like when Nik was there, collecting blood samples from the infected humans. I drew him crouching down at the second cot from the doorway in the middle row, his head bent over the kid lying there, blessedly asleep.

  Eyelids remaining shut, I continued to draw, my hand moving with a mind of its own, the ink directing it. The universe directing it. I gave myself over to the magic, let the universal energies flow through my sheut, saturate the rest of my body, and pour into the drawing. The marker started to hum with power, the wall giving off a sizzling electricity that made the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end. I was used to a gentle zing of power while drawing or doing a reading, but this was something else altogether. This was massive, a torrent compared to a trickle.

  My breaths came faster, my heart beating harder, stronger. A surge of energy passed through me, a pulse like lightning compared to the steady current I’d been channeling before.

  “Mon Dieu . . .” Dom’s voice was filled with awe.

  My eyes snapped open, and I stared at the wall—at the thing that was much more than simply a drawing of a doorway on a wall.

  “What—how did you do that?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said, eyes glued to the thing on the wall. Or, rather, in the wall. It wasn’t just a picture of the sick room at the back of the makeshift hospital; those were actual cots with actual sick kids lined up in rows. I could hear their moaning. Their sniffles and muffled cries. It worked. It really worked. Somehow, I’d created a window to another place entirely.

  Slack-jawed, I stared through the window. A man knelt beside the second cot in from the doorway in the center row. It was Nik, just as I’d drawn him. His head was bowed over a slumbering little girl of maybe six or seven, and he was collecting a sample of her blood in a vial at her elbow. He raised his head, focusing on something within the room, just to the side of the doorway. “Is there any way to get a sample from Sammy? Having patient zero’s blood might make all the difference.”

  The left half of Dorman came into view as he shifted his feet. He’d been standing beside the doorway. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he still wore that baseball cap. He shrugged. “You’re welcome to try.” He was so close, I felt as though I could reach out and touch him.

  Cautiously, I brought my hand up to the wall. I held my breath and pushed forward. And met no resistance. I pulled my hand back and stared at it. It had passed straight through the wall up to my wrist.

  This thing I’d created—it wasn’t merely a window to the Tent District. I wasn’t restricted to watching Nik and Dorman’s meeting; if I wanted to, I could go there.

  Nik must’ve spotted the movement, because he was suddenly staring at me.

  I sucked in a breath and froze.

  “What?” Dorman glanced over his shoulder, then returned to looking at Nik. “What is it?”

  “I thought I saw—” Nik shook his head, but his eyes didn’t leave the doorway. “It was nothing, I’m sure.” So it seemed that they couldn’t see me, even though I could see them. Could hear them and, if I wanted to, reach through and touch them. It didn’t seem possible.

  A slow grin spread across my face. “Holy fucking shitballs.” It didn’t seem possible, but it was.

  I spun around and ran to the closet housing the washer and dryer, yanking the doors open and pulling my clothes from the dryer. I dumped them all on the floor at my feet, picking up first a pair of underwear and pulling them on, then doing the same with some jeans. I hopped on one foot, then the other as I put on my socks, then strapped on my bra and topped it with a tank top. I shrugged into my sweatshirt, zipping it up as I hurried to the couch to grab my leather coat. I retrieved my boots from the bedroom and shoved my feet into them
, doing a hasty job of tying the laces.

  After shutting Eva away in the bedroom, I rushed back to the doorway on the wall, snagging Dom’s compact and snapping it shut before stuffing it back into my pocket. I paused at the wall, staring at the drawing that was so much more than that—it was an actual gateway to another place—and took a deep breath. And then I lunged through the wall.

  Almost as soon as I crossed the impossible threshold, Nik was on his feet, a vine of At shooting out of his palm. That vine of opalescent otherworldly material wrapped around my waist, holding me back.

  Nik’s eyes rounded, a tentative smile touched his lips. “Kitty Kat?” A second later, he let out a bark of laughter, dissolving the vine of At and releasing me at the same time. “I knew I saw something.”

  I smoothed down my sweatshirt and coat, patting the pockets to make sure everything that had been in there still was. “Nice greeting,” I said, not meeting his eyes. I felt the extreme urge to not make eye contact with him, though I didn’t know why. Instead I looked at Dorman, who was staring at me, eyelids opened wide and a hand to his chest. “Sorry if I startled you,” I told him.

  Dorman laughed nervously. “Startled is putting it lightly . . .”

  I flashed him an apologetic smile.

  “I thought you might show up,” Nik said, winding around the cots to come to me. “Though not like that. Neat trick.” He stopped a few feet away, and I finally forced myself to look at him, a spike of some unsettling emotion making me feel uneasy. “I brought something for you, just in case.” His nostrils flared, his eyes narrowed, and a slow grin spread across his face. He schooled his features a moment later, going from wicked to innocent in a heartbeat. “You look tired.” He tilted his head to the side. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

  My eyes narrowed to a glare. “Stop sniffing me, you pervert.”

  He smirked. “I can’t help it. You reek of one-night stand.”