Enrique dropped, ready to do more, and Jake saw he gripped the Escorpione with both hands. There was no apparent damage to his wrist.
Jake grabbed Enrique by the shoulder.
'Not now,' he said. 'Let's go!'
Enrique spun on him, and for just a second, Jake thought the younger man might swing. There was a brilliant blue light in his eyes, and his lips had curled back in a snarl. Then it faded and Enrique nodded. As they hurried on deeper into the junkyard, Jake glanced back over his shoulder. Neither of the two they'd fought had moved. He shivered.
The air thickened. Incense smoke wafted out toward them, and the sound of strange music filled the air. He'd never heard anything quite like it, but at the same time it felt familiar, like a memory he couldn't wrap his mind around. They heard laughter and screams. They didn't sound like screams of pain, but Jake couldn't be sure. They were barely human. The cloying smoke stole his concentration, and the rhythm of the odd music sifted through his senses. He fought it. He thought of clear air.
The sensation was like something he remember from dreams he'd had as a child. In those dreams he'd been able to take a run into a strong breeze, leap from the ground, and fly on thick, heavy air. He'd seen the city from the sky, swooped down through forests and parks, and come close enough to feel the salt spray of the ocean, but each time he'd awakened to find it was only a fantasy.
He felt that way now. He felt as light as a feather, as if he could take one step to kick off the crumbling Detroit steel walls of this place into the sky and be gone. He held that thought. It blocked the music, and helped him keep his breathing steady. He knew there would be more guards between them and their goal, and he also knew it was likely that by now they knew he was coming.
He smiled. Let them be ready. Let them all be ready.
'Here we come, you motherfuckers,' he growled. 'Ready or not.'
Enrique heard him, even over the pounding drums and the screams. He turned, and he grinned. The two threw back their heads in unison and let loose a scream of their own. It wasn't a human sound, and it cut through the night like a razor. In that heartbeat-long moment, all other sound ceased. Nothing existed but the two of them, racing through the shadows past flickering lanterns. Then it all crashed back in around them, as they charged.
Chapter Twenty
Donovan and Amethyst settled in as well as they could. The old top loader was stable, but not designed for comfort. The rusty teeth rimming the front of the shovel were difficult to balance on and treacherous. Donovan pulled out a very small pair of brass binoculars and trained them on the clearing. He began at the entrance to the circular court and worked his way slowly to the right.
Amethyst only glanced down for a moment to fix the scene in her mind, then turned and slid down to sit in the old shovel, her back to the clearing. She pulled a pouch from an inner pocket and untied the straps. Donovan glanced down at her, and then returned to his study of the clearing.
'I take it you have something in mind other than watching the show?' he said.
'I want to be certain that we know what we're up against,' she replied. 'I'm going to take a reading. If they are aware of us, I'll know. If something out of the ordinary happens, I'll be able to warn you — probably. We're outside the circle, so there are limits.'
Donovan nodded. He'd caught sight of the woman he knew only as Kim, working her way around the outside of the ring. She was doing something with the circle, bending down every few feet. He couldn't quite tell what she was up to, whether she was picking something up, repairing the circle, or placing something new.
Those inside circled the fire pit, leaping and whirling, some of them jumping impossibly high in the air, others, drinking from one of a seemingly endless supply of bottles. Anya Cabrera moved in and out of the group. More than once Donovan saw her caught in the grip of one or another of the mostly naked men surrounding her. Each time she danced, moved with them, and wound her way free before the moment could become more than what it was — part of the dance.
He thought, once or twice, that he saw something move in the smoke rising from the braziers, or in the hot coals of the fire pit. Each time, when he turned to focus on the motion, it was gone. Even so, there was nothing odd about the ritual. He'd witnessed several voodoo ceremonies over the years, once in Jamaica, twice in Haiti, and he'd even attended one here in the city, though not with Anya Cabrera running the show. He could detect nothing strange or different.
Anya's ways were westernized. The magic circle was a precaution that spoke of ritual magic, or the Kabala, not Voodoo, or Santeria. It was impossible for different disciplines to remain separate in the city. Things leaked. Those with power interacted, and they learned. If they didn't, they lost that power and someone else stepped up.
Amethyst had pulled a small ball of pure quartz from her pocket. It was flawless, and rare, and she held it cupped in the warmth of her palms. Softly, she blew on the smooth surface. While it was fogged, and while that fog slowly evaporated and cleared, she spoke a single word.
'Anya.'
When the fog cleared, the crystal was no longer clear. Tiny flames flickered in its depths. Figures whirled and leaped. Amethyst leaned close and repeated the name.
'Anya.'
Like a microscope zooming in on a drop of water, the image in the crystal focused on a single, smoothly gliding figure. Anya Cabrera was not young, but in the firelight, her hair dancing around her and her skin glowing and bare, she had a dark beauty that was undeniable. Those around her felt it and tried to catch her, to hold her. She evaded them easily, never missing a step. As she whirled, she faced in the direction of the old top-loader. In that instant, the image zoomed in again, and only the woman's face was clear. She winked once, and then, laughing, whirled away. There was no sound accompanying the image, but for just a second, Amethyst was certain she heard the woman's laughter through the music.
'She knows,' Amethyst said. 'She knows we're here, and she doesn't care.'
'There has to be something we're missing,' Donovan said. ' Los Escorpiones are a lot of things, but I have never heard that they were particularly devout. All of those in the circle, with the exception of Anya, are Escorpiones. And…'
He hesitated, focused the glasses, and frowned.
'What?' Amethyst asked.
'I'm not sure. There's something — or someone — near one side of the circle. Whoever it is, they are standing very still, and I can't bring them into focus.'
'I think you just found the other figurines,' Amethyst said. 'Someone else is in that circle. You can't quite see them, and the spirits? The Loa that Anya has summoned?'
'They act as if that portion of the circle doesn't exist,' Donovan said. 'They are paying no attention to them at all.'
'That's not normal,' Amethyst said. 'They have no respect for anything when they come through to this world. They are seeking release, abandon, passion — they would not let anyone stand idly by and not participate in the moment.'
'There's more,' Donovan said. 'The girl — Kim — Anya's apprentice. She's outside the circle. I can't quite make out what she's doing, but she hasn't been still since I started watching. She's been following the outer edge of the circle, bending down, rising up and moving on. Do you think she could possibly be sabotaging the circle?'
'There would be no point,' Amethyst said. 'You know they don't really need a circle for such a ritual. I'm not clear why Anya used it, unless she thought that drawing the symbols and setting up braziers, would impress Los Escorpiones. It could all be just smoke and mirrors, or a way of making what she does seem more dangerous than it really is.'
'I need to get a closer look,' Donovan said.
Amethyst tucked her crystal away and stood, peering over the edge of the shovel's blade.
'I don't think I'd go wandering down there,' she said. 'Particularly now that she knows we're watching.
