Shadow Dancer (Kitsune series) Page 12

  Ryan spilled into the room, his eyes scanning frantically until they found me. Thereafter, his gaze didn’t waver. “What’s your problem?” he said. “Almost getting me killed is one thing, but endangering yourself for a mere human is not acceptable.”

  “The alleged ‘mere human’ is standing right here,” Cassie said.

  A deep voice came from the doorway, “You idiots need to lay off Grace. She’s still recovering.” Fenn appeared, showered, shaved, wearing hip-hugging jeans and a pullover cotton shirt, umber with a gold pattern of Celtic knots silk-screened on. A wide necklace of Indian beads guarded his throat. Either he’d lost a bet or someone had dressed him funny. Maybe the outfit was some kind of anti-magic protection.

  “You’re calling me an idiot?” Ryan said. “You crashed Shaun’s Jag and slept through everything. Shaun should have put you in the trunk, not me.”

  Fenn’s eyes warmed from brown to tawny gold. “Like you’d have done any better.”

  Cassie slid between the guys. “Don’t argue, or I’ll make you both go. Grace has had enough excitement.”

  “Is this a private party, or can anyone barge in?” Joshua Kent strolled into the room, a friendly grin on his face. He looked more buff than I remembered.

  In what looked like an automatic response, Fenn shifted position so his back wasn’t to the ranger.

  Shaun entered next, carrying a couple of steaming mugs. I smelled cocoa with marshmallows. I hoped one of the mugs was for me. Shaun passed everyone, approaching the side of my bed opposite the lamp and end table. The bathroom door lay behind him. He handed me a mug. “Here, hair of the zombie dog that almost bit you.”

  “That makes no sense at all,” I said, smiling.

  “Welcome to my world,” Shaun said. “By the way, how are you doing?”

  “Top of the world,” I lied.

  With so many people here, my small room began to feel even smaller. Using my free hand, I brushed my hair back, wishing I looked a little better, wishing I looked a whole lot better with so many hunks here. Why did Cassie have to hover so close? The comparison between us had to be killing my chances with Shaun. I wanted him to sit on the edge of the bed, hold my hand, and make soothing noises as I courageously languished.

  Such a hunk... I sighed, “’Oh, Brave New World that has such people in’t…”

  “Excuse me?” Shaun asked.

  “I said that out loud?”

  He nodded. A smile followed that reached his slate-blue eyes, stirring the shadows there. “I talk to myself too. Best way to get intelligent conversation.”

  Fenn flowed over with a predator’s grace and claimed the foot of the bed. The lack of a foot board let him settle comfortably. “You are all right? Not just telling us what we want to hear?”

  I crossed my heart and held out my little finger. “Want me to pinky swear?”

  “Nah, I’ll take your word for it. Uh, Grace, something’s bugging me and I don’t mean Ryan.”

  Ryan shot him a dirty look.

  Fenn went on undaunted, “Back in the car, you vanished into thin air, and after the crash—when I clawed away the air bag—the bad guys were gone and you were being packed off by the Ranger—”

  That’s who it was! I shrugged. “So?”

  “Your scent trail was fragmented, appearing and disappearing. Considering the other things you can do, it stands to reason you’re not human.”

  I forced myself to relax, widening my eyes dramatically. “Wow, that crash must have scrambled your brains a little. I don’t know what you think you’ve seen me do, but—”

  “I’d distrust the sanity of the entire universe before ever doubting my own,” he used a tone that made me totally believe him. Rats. It had been worth a try.

  His brow knotted. “If you don’t want to tell me what you really are, just say so.”

  I stared into his eyes as they dimmed to amber. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know. I can do freaky stuff, but I don’t know why.”

  Fenn held himself very still. “I might.”

  Cassie glared at him. “Keep your guesses to yourself. Wild speculation is counter-productive—and maybe dangerous.”

  Fenn and Cassie locked stares. Some kind of nonverbal communication passed between them that I couldn’t quite decipher. They broke the glaring match, and Fenn settled into a moody silence.

  Joshua passed Cassie, moving along the side of the bed near the window. I was now officially surrounded. Josh’s face seemed older, as if the recent deaths had aged him. An awkward silence was settling in. I hurried to fill it. “Hey, Josh?”

  “Yeah?”

  “That were-lion out there—”

  “Were-liger. Not a were-lion.”

  Cassie rolled her eyes. “Both can kill you in a New York minute so what’s the difference?”

  “I’d like to know,” I said. “And that was you, right?”

  He nodded. “That was me, one of a kind.”

  “Tell her the whole story,” Cassie said. “I think she’ll enjoy it.”

  He shrugged. ”I was stalking some drug dealers coming over the border from Mexico. Turned out they were a were-pride of mixed breeds; lion, tiger, a few toms thrown in for good measure. They sniffed me out. I was forced to open fire. They took my shots and kept coming. I didn’t last long. They left me for dead, as the border patrol closed in.”

  I stared, fascinated, painting the pictures inside my head of what had to be an epic fight scene.

  “Obviously, I survived.” His eyes sparkled as he absorbed my interest.

  “Something unexpected happened; I became a hybrid, capable of changing into a thousand-pound killing machine. My endurance doesn’t match my speed, so I can only reach a speed of sixty miles an hour, for a limited time.”

  All time is limited in a mortal universe—a stupid, mortal universe—that lets good people die way too soon. How many are dead? Do I really want to know?

  He hooked his thumbs in his waistband. “These days, word is out. When I hit town, any town, the were-folk walk quietly. Even the vamps and wolves stay out of my way.”

  Someone else might have thought he was bragging, but deep-buried pain shaded his tone. I knew the exclusion hurt him.

  “Ever have hairballs?” Fenn asked.

  Josh stared coldly at Fenn. “Funny, you smell human, but not completely. Mind telling me what you are?”

  Fenn looked at me while answering, “I mind.”

  We were snapping at each other, on edge, waiting for ISIS to strike again. There was a muscular tension in the way everyone carried themselves. Except for Shaun. He appeared totally relaxed, centered. Must be the meditative part of his martial arts.

  “All right,” Cassie announced, “enough war stories, male bonding, and muscle flexing. Grace needs to rest.”

  Fenn and Ryan went reluctantly. Shaun went without a backward glance—which I found irritating for some reason. Josh gave me a thumbs-up, closing the door behind him.

  “You’re staying?” I asked. “I mean, here, in my room?”

  She shrugged. “Dirty job, but … you know? You don’t mind do you?”

  ”Does it matter?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then I hope you don’t snore.”

  “No one I’ve slept with has ever complained. Oops, did I say that out loud?”

  “You know you did.” My stomach rumbled. I felt very empty. “I think I’ve missed a few meals. What are the chances that—”

  She strolled toward the door. “I’ll raid the kitchen and bring some food back.”

  “Thanks.”

  I waited until she was gone, and slid out of bed. I’d moved a little too fast and had to wait for a moment of dizziness to pass. I held onto the headboard of the bed to steady myself. I drew a deep breath into my lungs and slowly vented it out again. Like a thousand other times, I used my talent to reach out with immaterial hands and grab hold of the fabric of space. I pulled on the veil, anticipating an electric tingle, a lessening of gra
vity, and the usual loss of colors, but nothing happened.

  Okay, don’t panic, I told myself. You’ve rested up and have plenty of aura, so try again.

  Another deep breath. I reached out once more, concentrating on what I wanted to have happen, willing it with a fierceness that surprised me. Nothing.

  I sat back down on the edge of the bed, and held out a hand, palm up. I tried to pull fire out of thin air.

  Crap! I can’t do that either. Next time I run into ISIS, there won’t be a thing I can do. I picked up a pillow and flung it with all my strength. The cushion barely made it across the room. Besides which I throw like a girl.

  SEVENTEEN

  I was back in bed by the time Cassie returned with my dinner—a pack of sodas, a can of stacked barbeque potato chips, and a plate of sandwich wedges. An armed guard opened the door for her. Apparently, my movements would be heavily controlled from here on out. “I’ve got ham or turkey on whole wheat,” Cassie said. “Hope mayo is all right.”

  “Better than bread and water,” I muttered.

  Without saying a word, she did a deep knee bend and retrieved my thrown pillow without dropping anything. Her body displayed the grace of a classically trained dancer. I felt like a clumsy toddler having her mommy pick up after her.

  She straightened. “Redecorating?”

  “Pillow-fight chic,” I said.

  The door closed and Cassie crossed to the bed. She set food and pillow on the covers and pulled up a teal blue chair that reminded me of Tukka. That couldn’t have been him in my dream—had to have been the fever. But just to be sure, I thought I’d check on him next time I crashed out. I sat up, putting the pillow at my back where at least it would be safe, and grabbed a sandwich wedge, not really caring which it was.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have any chocolate would you?” I’d left in such a hurry my stash was still in my room at the Institute. I wondered, would I ever be going back there.

  “Sorry, no.” She opened the can of chips and sprinkled some into her hand. I took a bite. Turkey with hickory-flavored American cheese and dill pickle slices. Not bad. Chewing, I used the rest of my sandwich as a pointer, “Thith won urk.”

  “Once more, in English,” Cassie said.

  I swallowed and tried again, “This won’t work. They hit us before because we looked as vulnerable as we were. With the grounds crawling with security, Special Forces, God knows what, ISIS will just lay back and wait for a better time to strike.”

  “It might surprise you to learn that I agree. But those are my orders. Besides, it keeps you safe, and that’s my first priority. ISIS can wait. I’ll hunt them in my own time.”

  I snagged a can of diet lime cola, putting down my sandwich to pop the lid. “I’d really appreciate it if you could get me a few candy bars. My blood sugar…” I trailed off, implying a medical condition I didn’t have.

  She went still. “You’re hyperglycemic? I didn’t know.”

  “Why would you? Got my medical records in your back pocket?” I hoped not.

  I’d be so busted. If it wasn’t for Tukka…

  She bit into a small stack of chips. Several flat crumbs dribbled on her shirt. She picked them off with great care. “I’ll handle it.”

  “Great, thanks, and you really shouldn’t talk with your mouth full,” I said.

  “Brat.”

  “Everyone needs a hobby.”

  We finished the food. I drained my can and set the empty aside, sliding down into the bed. I yawned. “Think I’ll try to get a little more sleep.

  “Good idea. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  I switched off the end table lamp. The light from the window looked weaker, failing at last, but a yellow fan of illumination washed in from the partly closed bathroom door. I rolled on my side, back to the light. “You’re going to sleep in the chair?”

  “I’ve done it before.”

  “You’ll wake up with crick in the neck and I’ll have to put up with your bitchin’ and moanin’ all day tomorrow. Put your gun under the pillow and take the other half of the bed.”

  “You’re too kind.”

  “My biggest failing.” I yawned again, closing my eyes. “Jus’ don’t hog the covers.”

  * * *

  I felt warm, engulfed by softness, soothed by a low croon. A moon-glazed face hung over me. Arms held me, bouncing me just a little. I was impossibly small. My hands waved in front of my face, small paws. Literally. The face swam closer, becoming clearer. The face was like my own, but the dark red hair was longer and streaked with gold. Her lips brushed my forehead. I smelled lavender, heather, fur, and … blood.

  The metallic odor excited me. I slid a damp, anticipatory tongue across my whiskered muzzle.

  The woman laid me in an empty cradle. She drew back. There was more blood, darkening her robes. She’s hurt … bad. Tears brim in my eyes. Momma.

  “My sweet Taliesina,” her voice is gentle, warm, “this is not our world, but you will be safe here as I lead them away.” She turned from me.

  I reached for her, catching only her words.

  “These people have just lost a newborn. They will cherish you until I return. And I will return. I will ... I promise…” She moved away, staring back at me once—her face tapering into that of a fox—then she was gone, slipping like a shadow across the windowsill, melting into the shadows of the night.

  I cried, reaching for her, my hands fully human.

  A gold-haired child padded into the room. She peered wide-eyed through the slats of the crib, and reached through.

  Growing quiet, I seized one of her fingers.

  She turned her face away and shouted, “Momma! Momma, come look!”

  A woman came in, crowding close. She gathered me up, soft, warm, soothing, but her smell was unfamiliar and there was no fire in her heart.

  * * *

  As I sat up in bed, the dream fragmented. I’d had it since childhood, Fate prodding me toward a writing career. The dream had an interesting plot I intended to one day use in a story. A dark mass, Cassie lay next to me, hogging the covers after I’d told her not to. I sighed and slid off the bed. Facing the bathroom, I summoned fire, staring at my extended open palm. A tendril of flame appeared, weak and hesitant. The orange glow cheered me a moment before it died. Well, better than nothing. I hoped my powers would return, in time.

  I heard tapping at my window.

  I stole through the darkness toward the window. Another pebble clicked off the glass. Someone outside wanted my attention. I lifted the window and stuck my head outside. The cold of night made me shiver, having more force than I remembered. I so needed my aura back.

  I saw Ryan down in the shadows, staring up at me.

  I didn’t want to rouse Cassie, so I just lifted both hands, palms rolling skyward in a so what gesture.

  He waved toward himself, furiously.

  He wanted me to go down there, this time of night, leaving my sick bed? Did he want to get hurt?

  He put his hands together in a pleading gesture.

  Third sigh. I’d soon run out of them at this rate. I whispered into the night. “All right, but this better be important.” I pulled back and shut the window.

  Trying to make little noise, I gathered clothing and dressed myself. Sitting on the floor, I was pulling my sneakers on when Cassie spoke.

  “And where do you think you’re going?”

  The jig was up. “Uh, just down to the porch. I uh, need a little air.”

  “Fenn?”

  “Well, uh…”

  “I was young … once … so I’ll give you fifteen minutes. If you’re not back by then, my gun and I will come looking for you.”

  “Uh, okay. That sounds fair. Thank you.”

  She grunted softly. Or was that a snore? Had she been talking in her sleep? Would she remember this in the morning? And would she come after me in fifteen minutes, like she’d said?

  Better assume the worst.

  I shrugged into my coat and
climbed to my feet. I went to the door and opened it. The hall light blinded me. I blinked, my eyes adjusting. A big guy in Marine fatigues turned in the door way to face me.

  “Excuse me,” I said.

  He didn’t budge. “Where are you going?”

  “Downstairs.”

  He touched a headset he wore, speaking into a thin wire that hung near his mouth.

  “Golden Egg is rolling.”

  “Golden Egg? That’s me?”

  Unwilling to waste words he might need later, he said nothing, stepping back and to the side. I closed the door behind me and continued on. He fell in behind me, looming protection and chaperone rolled into one. Ryan was going to love this.

  I was halfway down the stairs when I heard my name. I quietly sniffed the air. It was Fenn, arguing with someone I’d never smelled before. I froze to listen.

  “You stay away from her. She’s mine.”

  “Has she said so? Or is that wishful thinking?”

  Fenn’s voice rumbled warning, “You may be my father, and I may cut you more slack than anyone else, but there are limits. Don’t cross this line.”

  “I only want to meet the young lady. It’s so rare to find a kitsune anymore.”

  “We don’t know for sure that’s what she is,” Fenn said.

  I raised an eyebrow. What the hell is a kitsune?

  My guard stepped closer, as if to urge me on. The weight of his displeasure at my eavesdropping was a crushing force I stoically endured. When I didn’t move, he cleared his throat noisily. The argument downstairs fell silent. I glowered at my guard and continued down the stairs.

  At the bottom landing, I turned to face the far wall where the fireplace was in use. Standing near the mantle, Fenn had his hands in his front pockets. Maybe he was afraid of what he’d do with those claws of his. Next to him, a dark-haired man filled out a black suit, his eyes fixed on me with rapt attention. His eyes were yellow. A small, mischievous smile twisted his lips. He played with a silver cross on a long chain, treating it with little respect.

  Fenn came toward me, sliding in front of his father as if to head him off.

  Fenn’s face was softened by concern. “Is something wrong?”