Knight's Curse (10 page)

“Ladies, ladies.” Gavin put a hand on Zee’s back and her eyes closed, her expression looking as if he’d just engaged one of her erogenous zones. “Let’s not bicker. There’s work to be done. Shall we?” He motioned for us to exit the room, and I gladly rushed out into the hall, feeling the staring eyes from inside the paintings follow my every move. Very unsettling.

I half ran, half walked to the elevator. Zee and Gavin followed at a snail’s pace.

I leaned against the cab wall as we made our descent, my head throbbing with fatigue. Though I didn’t need much sleep, I needed some, and I hadn’t had a wink of it in more than twenty-four hours. When the elevator doors opened, I said, “So where will you put me now?”

“Not sure yet,” Zee said, sounding petulant. She still pouted over her foiled plan. “Gavin, have any ideas?”

“Not a one, but we’ll figure something out.”

I followed them both through the cavernous room on the main floor. There was way too much power here. Acclimate, hell. The pressure overwhelmed. I strode past a glass case filled with a number of items I recognized because it was me who had stolen them.

The Raggedy Ann doll looked innocuous in her glass cage, her big button eyes and railroad-stitched mouth an innocent facade. Except the thing packed a wallop of bad mojo. It was a soul sucker. Enchanted by a witch at the turn of the century, the tattered old doll would steal the soul of a child as it slept, and replace it with one of a demon. I’d filched it from the attic of an aristocrat in Washington, D.C., who had used it to bargain for political favors. It was no wonder I didn’t trust politicians.

“Hand it over,” Gavin said, holding out his hand.

I fisted my bottle of salt water, shoving it deeper in my pocket. He knew I carried it with me everywhere. “I promise not to use it. Holding it makes me feel safe.”

“Just give it to me.” He flexed his fingers.

“I need protection against the curses and charms here,” I said, my voice purposely close to a whine. I knew it irritated him when I sounded like a girl. “Something almost got me last night, you know. A big bad ugly from beyond the black veil.”

“Throwing salt water on it would have done no good.” Fast as a striking snake, he grabbed my arm and forced my hand from my pocket. He roughly peeled my fingers from their death grip on the bottle. “I’ll not have you disarming the magical objects in our collection, is that clear?”

Crystal. Besides, I could always make more salt water.

The three of us entered a large room dominated by a heavy oak table surrounded by chairs in the same style. All but one chair was empty.

“Chalice,” Gavin said, holding his arm out to the man who stood up when signaled. “I’d like you to meet Aydin Berkant, one of our most loyal Vyantara members.”

AYDIN?
THE INVISIBLE MAN, AYDIN? MY HEART
banged against my rib cage so hard that Gavin must have heard it.

Aydin stared right through me, his expression completely blank. He’d lied to me. The bastard got me to trust him, to follow him to a place filled with supernatural creatures as duplicitous as he was. My fingers twitched to grab my knife, and though I had limited talent for throwing, I’d make an exception just for him.

“But of course you two have already met,” Gavin said, looking snide. “I trust Aydin made you feel welcome?”

I was so confused now that I couldn’t even speak. I checked Aydin’s face for a change, something to let me know our meeting hadn’t been a ploy. I was usually very good at reading people, so to say I felt betrayed was an understatement. I was mortified.

Gavin grunted to get my attention. “You had a nice night on the town? Saw the sights? Clubbed to your heart’s content?”

What the hell? There had been no “night on the town” and certainly no time sightseeing. There was obviously some secret keeping going on, but I dared not breathe a relieved breath just yet.

Sounding totally reasonable and not one bit apologetic, Gavin said, “Chalice, you should understand that I had to arrange for a spy to keep an eye on you. I know how much you hate being tracked, but it couldn’t be avoided. You’re a very headstrong young lady and it appears Mr. Berkant kept you entertained and out of trouble for most of the evening.” Head tilted back, he looked down his nose at Aydin. “But it was bad timing, eh? I hadn’t taken your bondage cycle into account when I arranged for your services. I apologize.”

“No need, sir,” Aydin said, his vacant stare moving to Gavin’s face. “I made it to Shojin in time. No harm done.”

“Excellent.” Gavin sat and gestured for Zee, Aydin and I to do the same. But not only was I speechless, I couldn’t make my limbs move.

“Oh, dear,” Gavin said, looking amused. “You were totally fooled. That’s a rarity. Come now, Chalice. Get over it and sit down.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off Aydin. Not just because he looked more handsome in daylight than he had at night, but because he’d managed to lie so successfully to Gavin. That was hard to do. Or hard for me to do, anyway.

Aydin’s eyes shifted slightly, and if he thought no one would notice, I’m sure he would have winked at me. I felt giddy with relief and my heart hammered that much harder.

“Our friend here must have demonstrated his awesome power of invisibility for you.” Gavin leaned back in his chair and scowled at me because I hadn’t sat down when he told me to. He yanked a chair out from the table and banged it on the floor.

I lowered myself onto its seat. “Yes.” I swallowed, my mouth so dry that my tongue stuck to my teeth. “Yes, he did. Very impressive.”

“Thank you,” Aydin said dully.

“There’s an interesting story behind his ability.” Gavin tugged a cigar from a leather humidor on the table, offering one to each of us. I’d sooner kiss a Maågan demon than smoke one of those nasty things. Aydin declined, as well. Zee accepted hers with zeal.

The stuffy little room soon filled with the acrid stench of cigar smoke. “As I was saying, there’s a story. Pardon me, Zee, if I bore you with what you’ve likely heard a dozen times.”

“Oh, no. I won’t be bored.” Her fat cheeks sunk in when she sucked on the thick cigar that looked more like a turd. She slid it slowly in and out between her lips. So obscene. Smiling around the stogie, she said, “I could listen to you talk all day.”

Gavin appeared oblivious to her flirting, but seemed to relish her praise. “Chalice, did you know Aydin is a warrior?”

I shook my head and narrowed my eyes at the man I’d almost considered a friend. A warrior who wore faded blue jeans and a T-shirt that said I Don’t Have a License to Kill, I Have a Learner’s Permit.

“How old would you guess Aydin is?”

I shrugged. Aside from not giving a damn at this point, I was terrible at guessing ages. “Thirty, thirty-one, maybe?”

Gavin took a puff of his cigar. “Close.” He took another puff. “He’s nine hundred and sixty-seven years old, to be exact.”

I shot the warrior a look, but he was too busy picking at the letters on his T-shirt to notice. “You don’t say,” I said, purposely sounding bored when I was actually amazed. No
human
could live that long.

“It’s fascinating, don’t you think? That a man can live so many centuries.” Gavin waited for me to respond.

I wondered if bondage to a gargoyle had something to do with Aydin’s longevity. Did it make him immortal? I was bonded to Shui twelve years ago, but I had aged normally and felt glad not to be stuck for eternity inside the body of a pubescent teen. “Is it his bondage that made him live so long?” I asked, as if Aydin wasn’t in the room. He hadn’t spoken a word to me, so why should I speak to him?

“No.” Gavin took a pull on his cigar. “He made a deal with someone. And immortality was his reward.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “Not the invisibility?”

“That, too. Actually, that was the initial deal. Aydin fought in the First Crusade as a Seljuk Turk, helping his fellow warriors take Baghdad in 1070. He wanted to be invincible against the Christians, and a demon overheard his wish. Since it wanted the Christians to lose just as much as Aydin did, it granted him what he wanted. Invisibility hid him from his enemies, but it also took away his ability to fight. As a ghost, he wasn’t solid and couldn’t wield a weapon. He was invincible—and ultimately ineffective.”

Bargaining with a demon demoted Aydin to a low-life, just a bare notch above Gavin in my book.

“Demons and angels love playing with humans,” Aydin said in a way that sounded defensive, but I didn’t think he had a case. Was a fallen angel just a demon with wings? One of the first lessons I’d learned from working for the Vyantara is to never make a deal with the supernatural. If you do, you’re guaranteed to get burned.

“It cursed me.” His gaze finally connected with mine. “And it forced me to endure the sin of my bargain for all eternity.”

“And signing on with the Vyantara was supposed to help you?” I asked, sickened by his cowardice. Hiding from the enemy was no way to fight a war. “That’s like adding fuel to the fire. What part of
damned
don’t you understand?”

“He didn’t volunteer,” Gavin said. “He was…recruited. And bonded the same day. He and Shojin have enjoyed each other’s company for over eight hundred years.”

I peered at Aydin, who held his head high, his eyes focused straight ahead and not on me. But I saw the sadness there, the regret. And he did seem old to me now, as much in years as in wisdom. He had to have learned something from his mistakes. That’s probably why he was so passionate about the good side of magic, the good people who wielded it, and the innocent creatures that existed beyond the green veil. I couldn’t fault him for that. And maybe almost a millennium of penance made him worth forgiving. I didn’t know, but I was willing to find out.

I felt suddenly feverish and the back of my neck itched. It was my tattoo. I rubbed it lightly, the flesh tender to my touch. “Where are you keeping Shui?”

Zee tore her adoring gaze from Gavin. “What was that, dear?”

For crap’s sake. “Shui!” I nearly shouted the monster’s name. “Where is he? I’ll need him soon.”

Her eyes pulled up at the corners, but her Kewpie-doll mouth was slow to catch up with the smile. “Oh, my. I completely forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

She tossed a look at Gavin, who narrowed his eyes at her. She coughed into her hand. “Well, I got a call this morning that the train Shui was traveling on derailed a few miles north of the station in McCook, Nebraska. No one was hurt, thank goodness.”

Every nerve in my body sizzled with alarm.

“When will he be here?” I asked, forcing calm into my voice. My gaze flicked to Aydin, whose eyes had gone hard as he stared at Zee. He didn’t like her, either.

“Hmm…” She touched a lacquered fingernail to her temple. “Passengers were being bussed to Amtrak’s McCook station. And so was the luggage, which would include Shui, of course. Poor creature is probably going batty by now. Who knows what effect the accident had on him?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Gavin’s cold, blue eyes were icier than a glacier.

Zee flushed. “I, uh, I forgot until just now.”

Gavin landed a fist on the table. His sorcerer’s voice shook the walls when he said, “I have work for her, Zee. I can’t lose Chalice now. You know that!”

The fat lady whimpered. “I’m sorry, Gavin. Everything will be okay. She can go to McCook and meet up with Shui there. It’s a little over four hours’ drive from here. She can make it there in time.”

Maybe. Maybe not. It was the
not
part that scared me. “Is he on a train now?” I asked, not wanting to arrive in McCook and have him not be there.

Zee shook her head. “I asked Amtrak to hold his crate.”

Good thinking, Zee, you manipulative bitch.

Looking innocent, she added, “I realized there’s no way the train could get him here by the time you needed him. Taking Mohammed to the mountain seemed faster.”

Gavin’s jaw was clenched so tight his lips turned white. “She’s right. Damn it, Zee! Never keep information like that to yourself.”

“You should have traveled with him,” I told Gavin, the sick feeling in my stomach getting worse. I’d never make it to Shui in time. Today would be my last day as a human. “I feel sick,” I said and lowered my head to my hands on the table.

A hand glided across my shoulders, the fingers gently kneading the tight muscles there. It felt really, really good. I sucked in a breath and jerked upright. “Don’t touch me.”

Aydin lowered himself to the chair beside me. “I want to help. I understand what’s happening to you.”

I wanted to say, “No, you don’t understand,” but he really was the only one who did. He’d been through it himself, and probably more times than I had. My eyes felt hot and they burned when I blinked up at him. My face flushed as I remembered my body’s reaction to the desire emanating from him at the end of his cycle. “I’m so…I’m so…”

“You’re so what?” Aydin prompted, his voice soft and low. The sound vibrated up my spine and tickled the edges of my tattoo. He comforted me and excited me all at once, yet it was exhaustion that completely took me over.

“I’m so tired.” I put my head down again, feeling my energy drain through my feet and empty out into the room.

“We’ve got to get her out of here,” Gavin said, sliding out my chair with me still in it. “Up you go.”

I didn’t want to move. Every muscle felt limp, and it was hard to lift my head. “What’s happening to me?”

“The house is draining you,” Gavin said. “It feeds on fear. Quite ingenious, really. My idea, by the way.” He sniffed with self-importance and grabbed me around the waist to lift me up. “Did I fail to mention the Fatherhouse is alive?”

My words slurred as I said, “Seriously?” But I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything.

“I should have given her an amulet for protection,” Zee said, and there was real regret in her voice. “She seemed so strong that I didn’t think there’d be a problem.”

“As with so many things lately, Zee, you thought wrong.” Gavin hoisted me over his shoulder and carried me from the room. “It wouldn’t have done her any good, anyway.”

I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I was already fatigued from lack of sleep, so having a house “feed” on me didn’t help. I bounced along on Gavin’s shoulder, each step knocking a shallow breath from me. Blood rushed to my head to give me one hell of a headache.

I heard a car door open, then felt myself lowered to something soft. It smelled like leather and was cool against my cheek. The rumble of an engine vibrated the cushion beneath my head and the car rolled forward, its tires crunching over rocks and dead leaves. It picked up speed, the engine humming one long, soothing note that lulled me to sleep.

“How is she?” someone asked from the front seat.

“She’s waking up.”

I groaned. Did I have a hangover? My body felt heavy, my head pounded and every sound was amplified. No wonder. One of my earplugs had fallen out. I tucked it back in place and pushed myself up to a sitting position. I swallowed what tasted like dust and it hurt my throat. “Water,” I croaked.

A bottle appeared from over the front seat. I tried to grab it, but it slipped through my stiff fingers and fell to floor.

“I’ll get it.” Aydin sat in front and he bent over the seat to reach for the bottle. “Here you go.” He looked at me and blinked, his smile going stiff.

I scowled. “What?”

His smile was slipping. “Nothing. Drink your water.”

I unscrewed the cap and chugged half of it. “Where are we?”

“Just outside McCook. We’re almost to the station. Hang in there.”

I saw the back of a silver-haired head in the driver’s seat. “Gavin? I didn’t know you could drive.”

“You don’t know a lot of things about me.” He didn’t turn to look at me, and he sounded annoyed.

My back hurt so bad I could hardly stand it. The skin stretched tight across my shoulder blades and I winced at a sudden, sharp pain. “Anyone have some aspirin?”

“Won’t help,” Gavin said. “Grit your teeth if you have to.”

I was transforming. Slowly, painfully and inevitably. I tried to hold back the panic in my voice when I asked, “Can’t you do something?”

The car accelerated.

I drank the rest of the water and lay back down on the seat, but had to stay on my side. My back was too tender to put pressure on. Baby bat wings were delicate things.
Shit!

Gavin took a sharp turn to the left and tires squealed, the chemical stench of burnt rubber sifting through my filters. The car bounced over a speed bump and I cried out.

“Sorry.” But Gavin didn’t slow down. A minute later the brakes screeched and the car stopped, tossing me onto the floor. “Stay down,” he said.

“Why?”

Aydin turned sideways to look at me. “Because it’s probably not a good idea to show your face in public.”