Dark Demon Rising: Whisperings Paranormal Mystery book seven (25 page)

Mercedes
shut the door, or hatch, or whatever it’s called on an airplane. Royal sat
across from Chris. Bel sat nearby. Nobody said a word as the plane taxied to
the runway and stopped, as the pilot waited for the go-ahead from the traffic
controller.

When
we were in the air, Chris and Royal spoke in hushed voices as if they might
disturb me, the way you speak when near very ill hospitalized people. Royal’s
eyes kept flicking to my body. I ached to speak to him; I already missed Maggie.
Now I truly was only an observer.

“Are
you sure she’s here?” Chris asked.

“I
have to trust she is,” Royal replied.

Royal
stood at the top of the steps. The two Gelpha had left to get our
transportation. “They should be here. I’ll see what is holding them up.” He
trotted down the steps and across the tarmac.

Chris
shot to my side, leaned over the gurney and ran a gentle finger over my cheek. “Ah,
Tiff, if only you’d come with me,” he said so softly I barely heard. “The offer
still stands. When this is over we can ride away together, into the sunset.”

Sneaky,
jetting in while Royal was out of the way. Chris must mean when he invited me
to go away with him. I didn’t think he was serious at the time; it was an act
for Royal’s benefit. He knew Royal heard him.

He
sounded serious now. One corner of his lip turned up wryly, but his solemn eyes
glistened. “Once upon a time, long ago and far away, we spoke of dreams. This
is only a dream, my love. You’ll wake soon and this will be nothing more than a
bad memory.”

He
said nothing more, but stood over me for another minute with his hand on mine.
Then he bowed lower, kissed the side of my mouth and gently squeezed my hand.

Awed,
I imagined a giant feather slapping me to the ground.

He
met Bel’s eyes and put one finger to his lips, a silent request Bel keep what
he saw and heard to himself. Bel twitched a shoulder and looked away.

A
big black panel van arrived a few minutes later. Royal and one of the Gelpha
ferried my stretcher in the back. The Gelpha sat in front with his partner. Bel
sat on one of the bench-style seats inside. Royal stood with the gurney. Chris
came in and Royal gave him a furious look. “We talked about this. You cannot
come, Chris.”

Chris
hushed him with a wave. He bent to lay a soft kiss on my brow, smirked at Royal
and backed from the van. “Be off with you now.”

“If
we return, we will use The Station to go directly to Clarion and no doubt Bel
will return to San Francisco,” Royal said. “Do not wait for us.”

 “If?
You mean when. We will see each other again, old chum.”

Chris
lifted one hand in farewell as Royal shut the back doors. The van took off but stopped
a few minutes later. One of the Gelpha opened the back and an airport official
climbed in. He looked through a wad of paperwork the Gelpha handed him, ran his
gaze over me and left with a nod. I suppose, with a patient on life support, we
got to avoid the usual going through security routine.

From
the way the vehicle swayed, we went full speed ahead, not slowing much for
corners. Bel kept his feet firmly planted on the floor and leaned his forearms
on his knees with his hands clasped between them. Royal braced his spine on the
side wall as he held the stretcher.

The
van decelerated and stopped smoothly. Royal and Bel stood. The doors opened and
the two Gelpha maneuvered the gurney out with Royal warning them to be careful.
He hopped out after it, followed by Bel.

The
rear doors closed and the van drove away, leaving Royal, Bel, my body on the gurney,
and me curled around Royal. The small monitors still beeped steadily.

Bel
shook out his coat, which turned out to be a cloak. When he flung it over his
shoulders it covered him from neck to ankles. He pulled the hood up to hide his
head and face.

“Are
you ready?” Royal asked.

The
hood nodded.

This
time we faced not an alley but a dirt lane in a run-down part of San Francisco.
Small backyards with worn picket fencing lined it, and ahead, the darkness
beneath trees turned pitch-black. Pushing the gurney, Royal led the way, along
the lane far longer than it should be, into the midnight shadow and onward.

The
tiny orange light glowed in the distance. Bel stopped walking. “Go ahead. I
will join you Downside.”

In
Carmel, he explained he must enter Downside unseen but getting through The Station
unnoticed seemed a bit of a stretch.

Royal
nodded and continued. He didn’t look back when, near the light, the great
wooden door opened, followed by the iron door. As before, guards with cutlasses
awaited us in The Station.

Royal
stood over my body for a long minute. “Well, my love, this is it. I hope
Arthemy was right when he said your body will survive Downside without
artificial stimuli.”

God,
I hoped so. I reminded myself Angelina said Arthemy could do as he promised.
Shan wanted Royal to bring Lawrence to him and he would not if my body died
mid-journey.

Royal
waited another minute before disconnecting me from life support. He did it quickly,
carefully pulling out the tubes and the IV and other stuff hidden under the
blankets. As quickly, he wrapped me in a blanket, swept me into his arms and
stepped through the doors.

I
anxiously ran my eyes over the body in Royal’s arms as we stood in The Station.
The chest rose and fell, the face remained peaceful. Royal held me to his chest
one-armed as he pressed his fingers to my neck to feel my pulse.

The
Station Master sat behind his grill. He lifted one hand to Royal. Royal nodded,
and walked on. The guards seemed tense, edgy, as if in fear of some sensed but
unseen threat. They gripped their swords and their eyes darted.

I
thought I saw movement from the corner of my eye, a flicker, but when I looked
there was nothing.

Royal
stopped outside The Station. His gaze panned over the street and buildings.

His
voice held a touch of awe. “I remember this. I remember . . . everything.”

He
walked down the steps and along the sidewalk. Seeing Downside again made me
dizzy. The red sky, towering old buildings, not to mention the citizens. How
odd that nobody looked at Royal twice. You’d think a man carrying an
unconscious woman warranted
some
curiosity. Apparently not.

The
shadows moved and pooled, and Baelfleur stepped from them. “Follow me. Shan may
have people watching for you.”

My
heart sank. If Shan watched for us, did he have us followed before? Did he see
us go to Angelina, Rain and River? Maybe he watched them, also. Maybe he had an
inkling of our plan.

Did
the same thoughts crash through Royal’s head?

Bel
swerved into a restaurant and through the kitchen to a rear exit. Not one
patron looked up from their meal and a lone waiter turned the other way. We exited
among overflowing garbage cans and headed along a narrow alley with walls
rising so high either side, the red sky was a mere slit way above us. From
there, we kept to lanes and alleys, not once emerging into a wider
thoroughfare. We encountered few inhabitants, who ignored us as they hurried
along. Shivers of foreboding swept me in places which appeared to be dark and
deserted yet movement wavered on my peripheral vision. Royal kept his eyes
ahead, his pace didn’t falter. Bel moved at Royal’s side, the hem of his brown
cloak swirling around his ankles and soft brown ankle boots.

I
clung to Royal. Perhaps I could walk these streets as I did before, but I
didn’t dare try. Royal would not know if he left me, stranded in Gettaholt. And
Arthemy said I needed to be with my body when he worked his magic?

Half
an hour after leaving The Station, Bel stopped near the end of yet another
dirty alley. “Wait. I will find River and Rain and bring them.” He looked
toward the end of the alley. “You are safe here. This place is taboo, no one
comes this way.”

Were
Maggie here, she would ask why, but Royal only said, “Are we in danger?”

“Not
if you stay here. Do not venture beyond.”

With
a nod of farewell, Baelfleur walked back the way we came.

I
peered but the space ahead lacked the lamps and neon common in other parts of
Gettaholt. I had a shadowy impression of an open space and a large building
with a tall steeple.

Royal
leaned on the wall with my body cradled in his arms.

After
a minute, he said, “I feel blind, Tiff. In our world, I can sense human beings
and other Gelpha near. Here, nothing. Our plans may be for nothing if we were
followed.”

He
didn’t see me but talked to me anyway; it buoyed my spirits.

“Don’t
worry. This is Bel’s world, he knows what he’s doing,” I said as much to
reassure myself as Royal. Not that he heard me.

An
hour is a long time to stand in a dark alley holding a woman in your arms. Royal
looked into my face; sometimes he held me closer to him. An hour is too long to
wait, fearing the enemy will arrive on the scene. I think I intimately knew
every crumbling brick near where Royal stood, the puddle at his feet, and the
damn raindrops soaking his hair and wetting his face. He pulled the blanket
over my body’s head and face to shield it but it quickly soaked through.

I
didn’t hear their footsteps, but suddenly Bel, River and Rain stood a few feet
from us. Royal’s entire body went rigid, then relaxed, but not completely.

“We’ve
been all over this area,” River said. “If anyone had you in their sights, we’d’ve
seen them. If they managed to hide from us, they can’t from Castle.”

Castle,
the invisible partner. I should be glad of his help, but every mention of him
made me wonder if I would become a dead partner. But unlike Castle, I’d be no
help to Royal.

Like
now.

Bel’s
voice jerked me out of my unpleasant reverie. “Show me the photo.”

He
dropped his hood to reveal an eerily different countenance, a subtly different
Baelfleur. Deep-set blue eyes like bruises in his flawless, creamy skin, and
cheekbones sharp enough to cut paper. His hair feathered around his face, soft
and fine as white goose down. A tall, lean, sinewy, wingless fairy.

Royal
took the picture of Lawrence from his jacket. This was it, a pivotal part of
the plan. If Bel couldn’t do as he claimed, we might as well go home.

“I
have invented the guise of a man many times, never the likeness of an actual person.”
Bel studied the photo. “You must guide me.”

What
followed floored me. I bet I couldn’t say a word were I able to.

Familiar
with auras now, I didn’t notice them as much. I saw them, and dismissed them
from my mind. But Bel’s aura changed, it shifted and slid around him like shadows
and slivers of colored glass, spinning and merging.

And
Lawrence stood in the alley with us, the Lawrence of six years ago, a beautiful
boy with glossy brown, shoulder-length hair and a pointed face, wearing a Saint
Mary Frances school uniform.

In
Carmel, Bel said he used light and shadow to change his appearance, but we
stood in near-darkness in a narrow alley, the red sky casting a feeble light incapable
of lifting the shadows. Where did the gleaming brown of Lawrence’s hair come
from, his dusky skin, the emerald-green of his school uniform? Did Bel draw on the
colors of his aura?

Did
he know?

Rain
peered at the photo in Bel’s hand. “Excellent.”

“He
is six years older,” Royal said. “Taller now, and mature for his age.”

Then
began a fascinating process as Royal described Lawrence. Bel’s face and body
didn’t warp and change, it happened instantly between one breath and the next. His
hair darkened to burnished copper and chestnut, his face lost a child’s
softness and became firm, his nose bigger and high-bridged, his chin square.
Taller now, he was a miniature version of his father Gryphon.

I
stared at the new Lawrence who stood with River. Not spot on, but near enough.

Royal
thought so, too. “Yes. I think you will pass for Lawrence.”

“Awesome,”
said River.

“Now,
the clothes,” Royal said. “Something impressive, suitable for a High Lord. Can
you manage leggings and a long tunic in rich fabrics?”

Lawrence
favored jeans, T-shirts and sneakers but did put on formal togs for council
meetings. Before my eyes, his school outfit changed to a soft, long-sleeved, butter-yellow
tunic with an embroidered metallic copper pattern on neck and hem, tan leggings
and brown slippers. Perhaps not what a Gelpha High Lord wore, perhaps something
to suit a sióga prince. But it was beautifully cut from rich materials.

Rain
nodded. “Good. Come on now. I arranged transportation.”

Royal
followed them through a network of alleys until we emerged in a wide street of
tall buildings with ramps leading to big double doors, perhaps warehouses or
the rear entrances to stores where they received goods. A long black car with
tinted windows idled near one such building. Rain opened the rear door and got
in. Royal followed, folding his big body to ease mine inside. He settled on the
leather seat with me on his knees and held to his chest, pushed the blanket aside
and stroked my damp hair. Bel joined us and River got in front with the driver.

A
big blond-headed guy, the driver turned in his seat and grinned hugely, and I
did a minor freak out. Fangs. Not slightly pointed teeth like Gelpha, fangs
long enough to dent his lower lip.

“Stop
it, Clide,” Rain chided with laughter in her voice. “You did that intentionally.”

He
tossed his head with a deep, rumbling chuckle and faced the road again.

As
the car moved off, Rain reached to the floor and came up holding a long belt
with a sheath attached. She partly drew a long black sword from it to show
Royal, and slid it back in.

I
have seen swords in a number of styles, but nothing like this. All of one
piece, smooth, black and glossy, the double edge on the slim blade looked paper
thin. Cord wound the hilt to provide grip.

Royal
arranged my body on the seat and removed his long leather coat so he could don
the sword and belt. The belt went crosswise over one shoulder and his chest.
With his coat back on, it was hidden.

River
passed his big pistol. “Take care of her. She’s one of a kind.”

“Oh,
so it’s female now?” Rain asked.

“She’s
female. Ornery and unpredictable.”

“Castle
said it wasn’t female when he owned it,” Rain explained.

Royal
tucked the gun in his pocket. It made an ugly bulge in his coat. He pulled my
body to his lap again and arranged it so the weapons didn’t dig in me.

The
car stopped down the street from Arthemy’s house. We were here less than twenty-four
hours ago but it felt longer, and at the same time too soon to return.

River
reached over the seat to open the back door but Royal didn’t immediately move.
He stroked my hair and cheek, and held one limp hand.

My
heart hurt for him, for all he’d suffered on my behalf. Again, my helplessness
made me want to tear my hair out.

“You’re
running out of time,” Rain said.

“Yes,”
Royal agreed, eyes not leaving my sleeping face. A sigh breathed between his
lips before he gathered me in his arms and got out of the car.

Bel
followed him. The car drove away and we set off to Arthemy’s house.

Bel
lagged as Royal climbed the steps. “Nervous?” Royal asked.

“Terrified.”

“You
risk a lot. Thank you for helping us when you need not.”

“I
am indebted to Rain and River.” Bel brought his shoulders up. “When the debt is
paid, I need never set foot in Downside again.”

The
front door swung open.

The
doorway was empty and chills trickled over my spine. No one waited to admit us
and guide us through the house.

Royal
didn’t hesitate. He went inside, hugging me to him with one arm, his other hand
on Bel’s shoulder as if steering him. I expected the door to shut behind us
with an eerie creak but it remained open after we walked on.

Shan
waited for us in the gloomy chamber in front of the tables. Hair bound in a topknot,
he wore a long-sleeved, floor-length red robe. Jewels dazzled in his midnight hair,
his ears, on fingers and wrists.

On
the stone table on our right, a bucket the size of a child’s sand pail held a white
substance, and a keen-edged knife and large round copper bowl lay near it.

Arthemy
stood near the black circle.

“Welcome,
Ryel.” Shan swept a deep bow and spoke mockingly. “And my Lord Lawrence. What a
fine young man. You have the look of your father about you. I am glad you chose
to join us. Our party is assembled.”

With
his chin up, Bel eyed Shan haughtily but didn’t reply. To speak might give the
game away for he sounded nothing like a twelve-year-old. If it seemed Bel must
speak, Royal would run interference.

“I
admit,” Shan said to Royal, “I doubted you would bring the young lordling. The
woman means so much to you? Now I see where your true loyalties lie.