Far behind me was the rev of the Ducati’s powerful engine as it cleared the curve jump too. I saw the bouncing headlight, heard the distant scream of the tires for traction and a whoosh of scattering gravel. He had almost gone over. The man was fucking deranged, clearly. I sensed the straight was about to give to another curve, another drop. I hit the turn, tires and suspension angry, jerking, and wailing in protest at the speed and the angle as I launched off into space again. I didn’t need mystic instincts to know I had pushed this game as far as I could.
I snapped on the headlight and saw I was plummeting toward the end of a long straightaway I had just bypassed by going airborne. The bike landed, and I stood up on the pegs as it hit, then dropped and fought to keep it on the road going into the beginning of a new yawning curve, headed to the bottom of the mountain.
My speed had decreased considerably, but I now had a good half a mile or more of curves and road between me and Vigil. I accelerated out of the turn and along the straight line of the coast that was leading me toward the city. I checked behind me several times, but I seemed to have lost the knight. I gave the road behind me the finger, and kept on keeping on.
* * *
The streets of Spetses were still crowded with tourists, mostly young, mostly beautiful, and all loaded in more ways than one. This whole place was a playground for the ultra-rich, people who had no clue what it did to a human being to have to sweat the rent or decide if they should buy food for their kid or buy the meds the kid needed. I couldn’t help feeling like an intruder on this island as I glided the Streetfighter through the traffic. Most of these folks’ biggest concern tonight was which restaurant or club to blow their money in. I didn’t belong here, I never had.
I know my own poorer-than-fucking-dirt background informs my opinion on all that. I had known plenty of rich folks sadder than fuck for real, and good reasons, but there was no denying sad and rich beat the shit out of sad and poor any day of the week and twice on Sunday.
I found Caern’s neighborhood and parked the bike across the street. Her building was whitewashed with a trim of bright blue. There was a tasteful, wrought-iron fence around the building’s grounds that included a courtyard with a few plastic beach chairs and a little round table under a stand of palm trees. There was an electronic lock next to the gate that required a tenant’s key card to open. I placed my hand on the box and whispered as I let the charge of power flow from my Manipura chakra, “Apertus.” The gate clicked open, and I walked through.
Caern’s condo was up a short flight of stairs. She had the left side of the building, and someone else lived on the right. The first floor was about a half-dozen smaller apartments. The ward hit me in the face walking down the hall to her door. Fae magic was formidable, but it was so fucking ostentatious, it practically shouted at you. It was like they had to bling the hell out of even the simplest lock and alarm spell. I felt around the edges of the working and then snipped and silenced it with a few words.
I stepped inside Caern Ankou’s life and closed the door behind me. The air conditioner hummed, set to keep the place comfortable for no one. The place looked more like a hotel than a teenage girl’s home. Nice, cream-colored furniture, muted tones, a rug with no stains from Cheetos crunched underfoot or spilled Cokes. I frowned and walked the spacious rooms. They were silent to me, silent to even my Ajna chakra. There were no traces of any significant emotional imprints on this place. Caern may have slept here, eaten here, watched TV here, but she hadn’t lived here, in any meaningful way. I found that very sad. Children, teens, usually smear the air with angry, brilliant colors of emotion and experience. I expected a teenage fairy princess to leave me a trail like a bunch of My Little Ponies had puked all over the place, fucking rainbows and glitter. But this … it told me a lot about her by how little it told.
I sat down at the edge of
