going to bring Eirene out of the woodwork?”
Baker explained it to me again, with only a hint of impatience. “She is obsessed with you. You ruined her plans. You have everything she wants. She will want to be
“That doesn’t mean it’ll draw them out.”
“The bowl says otherwise. I’ve seen it and so have all of the others.”
I didn’t say a word, just looked at her. She knew as well or better than I did that the future is subject to change. And while the odds got better if more than one clairvoyant got the same images, that didn’t make it certain.
“Fine. Our profilers and those of the church agree that it is in the nature of this particular demon to require it of her. It is most likely that he is the one in charge by now, whether Eirene knows it or not.”
That seemed likely. “But it makes no
She threw up her hands in a gesture of irritated surrender. “Celia, think about what you said. She’s insane. He’s a demon. Of course it makes no sense to sane humans. Why would it?”
“Something’s happening.” Could one of the ghosts have remained behind to see this through? Whoever it was, was trying to get my attention.
“We’ve got people surrounding the building. If something was wrong, one of them would warn us.” Kevin was on guard, along with two more of Lopaka’s people. Since he’d been missing since shortly after Vicki’s death, no one would expect him to make it to my funeral. As a werewolf with a background in black ops, he was a good choice for a guard. Plus he’d insisted.
After all, Emma was his sister.
Considering his skill set and metaphysical power, I should’ve felt safe. Instead, I felt trapped.
Baker gave me a look. Whatever she saw in my face made her uneasy. She extinguished the scene playing out in the bowl, reached for her gun, and switched off the safety. I did the same thing with my gun, then patted my pockets, making sure everything else I packed was in place.
There was a tap on the door and a familiar voice whispered, “It’s Kevin. We have a change of plan.”
Baker started to position herself behind the door, but I shook my head. She was strong, but she wasn’t going to be strong enough to hold the door closed against whatever might be impersonating Kevin. Hell, I wasn’t positive I was strong enough, but I had a better shot at it. So I passed her the squirt gun and got in position.
“We need to verify you’re who you say you are,” I said calmly. I wasn’t feeling calm. It was turning into an icebox in here and several small objects were starting to levitate.
“Damn it, Celia, we don’t have time—”
That was totally unlike Kevin and I flicked a glance at Helen. She scowled and nodded. Yeah, we were going to do this.
“Fine, then.” I yanked open the door and Helen sprayed him.
It wasn’t an impostor. Maybe we’d have been better off if it was.
I heard a soft
I pressed on the door with everything I had.
I’d thought I was strong, but I was not as strong as a big, motivated werewolf. He shoved the door back like it was nothing. I dived out of the way, throwing myself between the bed and the window, and firing as I went.
I hit him. Square in the chest and hard enough to send him back a pace. But the bullet didn’t do more than piss him off. He had to be wearing a Kevlar vest.
The ghost in the room tried to help. Everything that wasn’t held down flew at Kevin’s face. He batted it all away as I scrambled to my feet and turned to flee out the hotel window.
I’d climbed onto the heater/AC unit when he grabbed me by the leg and threw me onto the glass-strewn carpet. I tried to turn my gun on him, but he had my hand in an instant.
But nothing made any difference. I struggled helplessly as Warren, the man I trusted more than anyone else—even more than Bruno—strode into the room. He pulled a dart gun from his pocket and shot me. The same way he’d shot Baker.
I couldn’t move. I tried. My body simply wouldn’t respond. I could feel my skin resting against smooth leather upholstery, could feel the movement of a car, but I couldn’t even lift an eyelid. I panicked then, because even though the adrenaline rushing through my system made my heart race until I could hear my pulse pound like a kettledrum in my ears, my body remained sullenly unresponsive.
“Please don’t struggle. You’ll only hurt yourself.” Warren’s voice was a disembodied and slightly mechanical whisper in my left ear. “I combined a curse with the drug in the dart. You won’t be able to move a single voluntary muscle until Kevin says the word that releases you.”
I felt a wave of pure unadulterated rage fueled by the pain of complete betrayal. These were two of the people I held dearest in the world. I would have given my life to defend them and they do
Warren’s voice sounded in my ear again. Now that I thought about it, I could feel the headset attached to my ear. “I’m so sorry, Celia. I can only imagine how angry you are right now. But we had no choice. Irene contacted Kevin through his employer. She swore she would feed Emma, body and soul, to the demon unless we turned you over to her.” He paused. “I can’t let that happen. I can’t.” He sighed. “But I won’t turn you over to that fate, either. So we’ve arranged a rescue.”
My mouth wasn’t working thanks to the curse. But I was thinking some pretty choice things about Warren, his son, and the fact that they hadn’t seen fit to include me in the planning. Did they think I wouldn’t have helped save Emma? Did they really believe I’d let her not only die but also be tortured to death and for freaking eternity? Because if that’s what they thought, they didn’t know me at all.
“They’re using magic to watch us, so Kevin doesn’t dare let on you’re conscious. When the car stops, he’ll unstrap you from the seat and take off the Bluetooth. There isn’t much time, so you have to listen carefully.”
It was a simple plan. They had betrayed me, drugged me, and stuffed me in my own car. I was now being delivered, like a sacrificial lamb, to a warehouse on the desert edge of Santa Maria. Eirene would be waiting there, with the demon and about half a dozen mercenaries. Warren didn’t say how he knew about the mercenaries. My guess was that he had hired a clairvoyant—or maybe some of Kevin’s coworkers had done manual surveillance. I’d once met one who had the ability to practically vanish—a more extreme version of the illusion that Bruno and Ivan had used. However they’d managed it, Warren was certain of the number and was confident in their abilities.
I was the bait. Kevin would bring me in for the exchange and get back Emma. At which point the nice folks at “the firm” would swoop in. Under the cover of the resulting chaos, I would escape and get Emma the hell out of there. Kevin was bringing me in the Miata so that I would have a getaway car.
It was a desperate plan, with every chance of failure. Still, it had the advantage of being simple, elegant, with