Shadow Dancer (Kitsune series) Page 19

  “When this is all over, I want to meet him,” I said.

  “That would not be a good idea. He thinks you’re dead. If he knew you were alive, he would stretch out his hand and snatch you up. Whatever you’d want to do with your life wouldn’t matter. He only leaves me alone out of pity; he believes I’m mad.”

  Well, you did work hard to give everybody that impression.

  Cassie held out a cell phone. “Until ISIS is put down, I’m going to be keeping a close eye on you. This will let me track you. My number has been programmed in. If you need me, for anything, just call.”

  Virgil was already keeping tabs. Letting Cassie do the same wouldn’t compromise my privacy any further. I took the phone from her hand and slid it into a pocket. “So are we good?”

  “One more thing,” Cassie said.

  Always one more thing. “What?”

  “You have to call me Mom.”

  And if I don’t? Better not to find out. I managed a weak smile.

  “Sure … Mom.”

  She smiled at me, and I felt her invisible aura flaring out to caress mine. A dazzling joy pierced me, pouring into my heart like warm, liquid sunlight. And then it was gone, leaving a residue of happiness that I took as my own.

  “Your friends are leaving,” Cassie said.

  I glanced at the restaurant door. Anthony held it open. The rest of the guys were coming out. Madison and Fran broke away, coming toward me. Fran carried the box with my sword in it. As she reached me, she held it out.

  I took it. “Thanks.”

  “Last chance,” Madison said. “If you’re heading our way…”

  I glanced at the boys, taking inventory: one scowl, one expression of deep concern, and an annoyed glower. “Are you sure I’ll be safe?”

  “They hadn’t heard who your mother was,” Madison said. “Now they know. They’ll behave.”

  “If not,” Cassie said, “I’ll skin them alive and shove a grenade up their—”

  “Mom!”

  She looked at me and her ferociousness drained away. “Yes, love?”

  “I think they understand.”

  Madison and Fran waved at Shaun.

  He slid out of the Jag, stood, and leaned on the roof. He nodded a return greeting. “Ladies. Heading back to the campus?”

  “Yes, Mr. C.” Madison smiled, eyes aflame with lust.

  “See you in class,” Fran said. “I’ve got that combo down cold, the crescent kick that turns the body, setting up the hook kick. I can’t wait to show you.”

  “Wait a second,” I said. “He teaches at the slayer academy? The same school Elita goes to?”

  “You know that bitch?” Fran said.

  “Witch is more like it. She spell-forged some imps, and sent them after me.”

  “That’s right,” Cassie’s voice iced over. Her smile crossed over to the dark side. “I’ll have to caution her about such behavior in the future.”

  “I handled it already,” I said. “Besides, I need her alive to get a handle on ISIS. She’s the best lead I’ve got.”

  “She’ll be at our school tomorrow,” Madison said. “If you need help, I know some very advanced interrogation techniques.”

  I nodded. “I’ll … uh … keep it in mind.” I turned to Cassie. “I’ll see you later … Mom.”

  She enveloped me in another of those rib-cracking hugs, kissing the top of my head. Wow, now that she’d outted herself as my mom, she seemed determined to bludgeon a place for herself in my affections. I actually missed the old Cassie.

  “Take care of yourself,” she said.

  I nodded. Don’t I always?

  She loosened her hold, and I staggered free. Fran seized the arm that wasn’t holding the box. “C’mon, our van’s over here.”

  “I have to pay my bill,” I said.

  “Go on. I’ll get it,” Cassie grinned. “I’ll take it out of your allowance.”

  Fran tugged me into motion. I called back to Cassie, edging my voice with mock annoyance. “What allowance? You’ve missed quite a few payments.”

  She was sitting on Shaun’s car again. “Not really, dear. You should see the size of your trust fund.”

  I stared back at her, not watching where I was going. “I have a trust fund?”

  “Three point two million,” Cassie said. “I’ve been adding to it for years. Just don’t ask where the money came from.”

  “Like I’d look a gift fox in the mouth.” Three point two million! Being loved beyond reason might not be so bad after all. I stumbled off a curb and watched where I was being dragged after that.

  * * *

  On the theory that people who know you on a personal level find it harder to kill you, I gave the slayers my life story, leaving out exactly what Tukka was. The boys listened while pretending to be aloof. When I reached the part where Elita sicced her imps on me, I got outraged indignation from Fran and a “That bitch!” from Madison. When I mentioned Ryan’s messy metamorphosis, I got an “Eeeewww, gross!” from Fran and a “Holy crap!” from Madison. By the time I reached the part with me in a cocoon, about to have the ultimate makeover, the guys were hanging on every word. They nodded with grim approval at me biting off Ryan’s tongue. “Serves him right,” Chet said. Anthony opined, “All’s fair in love and war.”

  After that, everyone competed for my attention, telling their “war stories” of life at the slayer academy. This made the miles pass quickly.

  I pressed my nose to the window as we passed the Human Potential Institute. Jill and Drew were achingly close. I wanted to see them, but I couldn’t. That would just draw ISIS’ attention their way. The slayers could take care of themselves, and had already signed on to battling evil. I wasn’t placing them in any more danger than they were placing themselves. I softly sighed as we went on down the road, passing a daycare center and a small community of new homes. Most of them seemed vacant. A few were still in the process of being built. Given the down-turn in the economy, the unfinished buildings were likely to stay that way.

  Madison pointed at a two-story house as we zoomed by. “That’s Mr. C’s place. He’s got a dojo in back where we sometimes hold classes.”

  Shaun… a delicious tingle went down my spine …gotta love a man who knows how to use a katana.

  We reached a small community, a Main Street lined with mom-and-pop storefronts. There was a volunteer fire department, a community church advertising a Harvest Festival alternative to Halloween, and an Ultrasonic Drive-In. That reminded me that I’d left half my breakfast uneaten. I pointed at the burger joint and used my Tukka voice, “Me want!”

  In the front passenger’s seat, Anthony called over his shoulder, “We’re almost at the school. You can get something there.”

  I looked pleadingly at Fran and Madison, “But I’m hungry.” I stretched the last word out, making three syllables of it.

  Madison looked daggers at the back of Anthony’s head. “We can hit the drive-thru. It won’t take more than a couple minutes. Honestly, I can see why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

  Winston turned off the road into the parking lot, heading for the drive thru in the back of the building.

  Chet stayed out of it.

  Anthony muttered, “I’ve got a girlfriend. I’m just not supposed to tell anybody.”

  “I’m available,” Winston said, “to anyone. I like playing the field.”

  “I’d believe that,” Anthony said, “if I ever saw you getting any play.”

  Winston scowled at him then glanced in the rearview mirror, making eye contact with Madison, “Just tell me what you want to order.”

  I spoke up, “Bacon-cheese tots, a diet drink, and burger.” I reached into my pants pocket, pulling out what I had left. “I hope this is enough…”

  “Put it away,” Madison said. “You’re our honored guest. This is on me.”

  “Are you sure?” I felt funny about her spending money on me. Cassie … Mom … was one thing, but…

  “It’s fine,”
Madison said. “I’m not going to miss it.”

  Fran leaned into me, whispering, “Her mom’s with an indie label; does post-hardcore rock. Her new CD’s just gone platinum.”

  “What’s her name? Maybe I’ve heard her.”

  We reached the speaker. Winston rattled off my order, taking a ten handed up to him by Madison. She answered, “Mom uses the stage name Elektra Blue.”

  Elektra Blue was an Indie legend. Wearing short, white hair on the sides and a spiky blue Mohawk down the middle, she’d appeared at the Grammies in a blue tinfoil gown wrapped with LED Christmas tree lights. Blue eye shadow, lipstick, and matching nail polish had completed her “look.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be,” Madison said. “She’s also a thrall.”

  I blinked. “A thrall?”

  “Blood donor to a vamp,” Anthony said.

  “Willingly?” I asked.

  Madison sighed, “Yeah, her nymphomania took a turn too fast and ran off the road. There’s an enzyme secreted by vamps that produces a paralyzing euphoria. It’s supposed to be better than sex.”

  “Wow.” Hanging with these guys was an education.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  I popped the last bacon cheese tot in my mouth, as we turned off the main road, breaking a sentry line of black oak. The property beyond was protected by a double row of chain-link fencing with razor wire on top. The zone in between had a barricade of concertina wire, three foot coils that looked like stretched out Slinkys. The only visible gap was a security gate. I had the feeling we’d gotten lost and were stopping at a prison for directions. The feeling intensified as a camera panned over us.

  I took a drag on my soda, and tore a chunk out of my burger as the gate slowly swung open without human assistance. I looked for a sign advising me to “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.” It wasn’t there. This came as a relief as we passed through.

  Mulch-covered beds lined both sides of the drive. Even with the windows up, and the crops harvested, the reek of garlic persisted. Either it was an actual deterrent to vampires, or someone had a whacked sense of humor. They should have gone for wolf’s bane while they were at it.

  The van climbed a hill toward a three-story white brick building. Fending off evil spirits, gray gargoyles lined the roof, matted against a low ceiling of bruised looking clouds. A chilling rain began to fall.

  Perfect, sets just the right tone.

  Half my burger gone, I took a long sip on my drink as we pulled up in front of the building. Everyone but Winston climbed out. He pulled away, heading for a massive garage off to the side. Hugging my sword box and clutching the remnants of my food in its paper bag, I gave the mansion closer scrutiny. The ground level windows were cross-shaped, too small for anyone to slip through, but in a pinch, automatic weaponry could break the glass, spraying a withering fire. There were no trees near the building, only low, emaciated shrubs. The place was designed as a fortress, with little to no cover for skulkers.

  “Be it ever so humble,” Anthony said.

  Chet finished the thought, “Home sweet home.”

  I started up the steps to a column-lined porch. “Somebody ought to film a movie here.”

  “The Old Man would pop a vein,” Anthony said.

  “You make him sound like an ogre,” I said.

  Madison looked at me with very round eyes. “Oh no, that would do an injustice to ogres everywhere.”

  I wondered if there really were ogres everywhere. A month ago I hadn’t believed in vampires, mothmen, kitsune, or witches. Fu dogs, ghosts, and demons had been enough for me. Praying I didn’t need it, I’d only hoped for the grace of angels. Now, anything was possible.

  As I stepped onto the porch, thin pipes suspended overhead hissed, misting us with a fine cloud. “Somebody thinks I’m an orchid,” I said.

  “Holy water,” Fran informed me. “Automatic defense, triggered by motion detectors.”

  Madison went through the mist to the door, placing her palm against a scanner. “When dealing regularly with vamps, you can’t be too careful.”

  “Can’t a vamp just put on a latex suit and use a slayer’s cut off hand to get in?” I asked.

  “We thought of that.” Fran said. “The hand has to have body heat and a pulse, or an alarm goes off.”

  Anthony smiled at me the way a hungry wolf might—when meeting a stray lamb in the wilderness. “There are other measures in force we are not going to explain to you.” He glared at his fellow slayers to be sure they got the message—no more spilling secrets!

  Madison nodded, looking at me. “Yeah, he’s right. Sorry, Grace, but Van Helsing’s secrets aren’t ours to give away. We’re going to have to keep you in the dark about certain things while you’re here.”

  I smiled at her. “I understand. Don’t worry about it.”

  “As if.” Anthony pulled open the door, letting us girls precede him and Chet.

  Inside, Anthony caught Madison’s arm. “Where are you stashing her while she’s here?”

  She shrugged off his touch. “My room of course.”

  “It’s not too late,” he said. “You can still wash your hands of her.”

  Madison grinned. “No guts, no glory. No glory, no reason to live.”

  “I’ll take Grace upstairs,” Fran said. “The Old Man will want the details of the training mission, every little thing.”

  “Sure.” Madison hurried off.

  The guys vanished up the left staircase, wanting to distance themselves from fallout should my presence be discovered. I was tempted to leave and spare everyone, but needed to be here when Elita arrived. Besides that, any training I could get from Shaun was delicious icing on the cake.

  The foyer was carpeted in red, so blood stains wouldn’t be too obvious I supposed. On both walls, thick gilt frames held portraits of men in period dress spanning centuries. There were engraved name plates on the bottom of the frames. These were Van Helsings going back generations to the Dark Ages. It might have just been me, but the eyes followed my movements, staring with cold disdain and maybe a little indignation.

  The foyer belled open into a cathedral-like space. A hall continued ahead. Left and right, wide staircases soared up to the second floor of the side wings. It looked like you went around the stairs to continue left and right on the ground floor. Forming a mental map of the layout, I noticed it resembled a cross. I wondered if this prevented vampire bats from landing on the roof.

  Fran took me up the right staircase.

  “Hey, can vampires really turn into bats?” I didn’t think the answer would be one of their precious secrets.

  She grinned at me. “Nah, that’s just swamp gas. Vamps can cross running water, and see themselves in mirrors too. Stakes, sunlight, fire, and beheading work pretty well for taking them out. Oh, and don’t try silver bullets. That only works on werewolves. I missed that question on the last exam, so I should know.”

  The runner on the stairs matched that of the foyer, continuing on as we reached the second floor. “This is the girl’s floor. If anyone asks you who you are, just say you’re a prospective student checking things out. You might want to use an alias too. I can help you with that. I’m good with names.”

  “I’ll, uh, think about it.”

  “How about Magana? I had a kitten with that name once, borrowed from a great aunt. We can call you Magpie for short.”

  “How is Magpie shorter? It has the same number of letters.”

  Fran scrunched her brow at me and shrugged. “Heh, guess you’re right.”

  She opened a door and led me inside. A single bed with a purple comforter battled the dreariness of the beige room. Another bed, lacking sheets, blanket, or pillow occupied the other side of the room. There were nightstands, dressers, an open closet, and a single, immaculate desk with a tiffany-style lamp, phone charger, and laptop on it. The wall straight ahead had twin windows. Bars hung beyond the glass. A small bookcase sheltered books under a picture of a praying Jesu
s. Elsewhere, I saw a framed printing of the Nine Commandments; the one saying ‘Thou shalt not kill’ was conspicuously absent.

  Maybe it was just a suggestion.

  Fran closed the door and crossed to the bed, flouncing down with a boldness I couldn’t have matched, but then again, she knew Madison a lot better. Fran pointed at the chair by the desk. “You might as well make yourself comfortable. It might be a while before Maddie gets back.”

  The chair scraped the floor as I pulled it back. Sitting sideways, I settled an arm on the backrest. “I’m surprised Madison has to make a report. Wasn’t Shaun supervising you guys?”

  “Technically, yeah. But the Old Man’s grooming her for leadership. He wants to hear her evaluation of how she thinks she did and what she thinks she could have done better. He’ll compare that to what Mr. C tells him tomorrow.”

  “Do you think Madison would mind if I did a little research on the internet?”

  Fran shrugged. “Probably not.” She came over and started the computer, lifting the lid, pressing the power button on one of the speakers. “What kind of research are you doing?”

  I don’t have a completely eidetic memory, but I absorb a great deal of what I’m exposed to. Most of which I can recall, especially if it’s interesting. I concentrated on dredging forth what the one witch had said to me about why they wanted me: Hallowmas will soon thin the walls of the world, and you will bring Am-Heh to us!

  “I need to know what is meant in witch circles by Hallowmas and Am-Heh,” I said.

  Fran puckered and chewed the inside of her lips as she stood in thought, eyes peering into unfathomable mystery. The gears of her mind grinding a wee bit, she produced a groaning drone that verged on a growl.

  I nodded. Definitely uffish thought, what Lewis Carroll described as “a state of mind when the voice is gruffish, the manner roughish, and the temper huffish." I hastened to speak up before she blew a fuse. “Let’s just see what a search pulls up on the computer.” I turned in the chair to face the monitor.

  Fran blinked like someone emerging from a daze. “Gha! Okay.”