"It shouldn't. The trap is for power imposed from the outside. The emotions will be immobilizing our victim from the inside."
"Okay, I hold him still. Then what?"
"I touch him, and see if I can trigger a real-time vision." Rick felt his eyebrows rise to disappear beneath his bangs.
"Don't look at me like that. I have a lot more control than I used to."
Rick didn't mention the vision in the plane, or the hotel or car. She hadn't seemed to have much control over those. But the look on his face must have been eloquent, because he could feel her annoyance rising.
Raising his hands in a placating gesture, he held off the impending tirade. "Fine, you trigger a vision if you can. If you can't?"
"I fake it." She smiled so sweetly it was positively poisonous.
"Excuse me?"
"Their big fear is my abilities as a seer. It's why they want me dead. So I give them a seer and you shake him until we see what falls out." She grinned. "Not literally, of course. There are too many surveillance cameras."
"You're actually looking forward to this." The accusation popped out of his mouth and he could hear the surprise in his voice.
"Why yes, I am." Her smile faded, her eyes going very dark until she looked, and smelled, dangerous. "I am getting very,
very
tired of these people. They've tried to kill me. They destroyed my house, my car, my
life.
They've killed Ellen and her mother, and God knows how many others. I'm going to find out
why.
And then they are going to go away."
They followed the
scent through the main intersection, to a glossy black door with a silver handle. The door had been forced open, the simple lock in the knob no match for Sazi strength.
Josette
pushed the door open with Rick at her heels and found herself in a narrow service hallway with plain white walls that stretched up to the high ceiling, the expanse of painted drywall broken periodically by black doors similar to the one she'd just walked through. Each door had been painted with a gray stenciled code number.
This area of the building was for employees only and apparently didn't get much use. The scent of humans was here, but faint. The scent of snake was not. He was here. Behind one of those doors. And he was afraid.
She shoved her suitcase against the far wall. It would only get in her way. Her purse she kept with her. It was smaller, and had their tickets and her identification. On the off-chance someone did come down the hallway, she didn't want to lose it.
Rick set his duffel on the floor next to her suitcase. Moving in front of her, he took the lead. Slowly, silently, they followed the trail to one of the doors.
With a hand signal, he directed her to stand against the wall on one side of the door while he took the other. Turning the knob, he yanked the door open.
Josette
felt more than saw the movement as the snake's head dropped down into the doorway. She heard Rick's gasp of pain as its fangs sank into his left arm and muscular scaled coils started to wrap around his chest. Using his free right hand he grabbed the snake behind the head and began to squeeze, blood and meat spurting as his fingers dug through the scaly flesh.
She felt the electric heat of magic as Rick sent his power into the reptile. Its red eyes widened, the slit pupil dilating until there was only a faint ring of color showing. She could hear his heartbeat racing, smell ammonia panic as the creature froze in place, too terrified to move.
Josette
followed Rick as he walked awkwardly through the doorway, his body overbalanced and top heavy from the weight of the constrictor's body. She pulled the door closed behind them.
The room they were in was large, but not spacious. Most of the area was occupied by a maze of pipes of various sizes that snaked around one another like a nest of vipers. Information was painted on the sides of the larger pipes, or posted on the metal brackets that connected them to each other and the supporting walls. A black metal staircase led up to two levels of catwalks that provided maintenance access to the
higher pipes. The room was lit by large electric bulbs protected by metal caging that cast eerie shadows onto the bare concrete floor.
"He's righting me hard, you'd better do this quick." Rick's voice sounded strangled and breathy.
"Are you all right?"
"Just,
do
it."
She reached out to lay her right hand on the body of the snake. Its tan and brown mottled scales were cool and smooth beneath her skin. Her hand slid over the muscled body as easily as her mind slid into the vision.
She was rushing down a hallway in the body of a young man, walking fast, not quite running. Anger bubbled through her veins. They had failed. She was not dead, the book of knowledge had not been recovered. The priests needed all three volumes
—
The Book of Faith, The Book of Power, and The Book of Knowledge, to bring on the days of renewal and the new era. Without the books, all of the sacrifices in the world would not allow her to be born and rise to the Goddess she was meant to be. Word of the failure had been sent in the form of a messenger from Paolo Rivera, the secular jefe of their people. The messenger had been snide, the words from his mouth might be suitably humble in addressing the high priests, his tone had certainly not been. It reflected the attitude of the jefe him-
self. He believed that the priests had grown soft over the centuries of her hibernation, but it was his arrogance that was the real threat.
Paolo had always underestimated the Sazi and their allies, believing them to be fools addicted to luxury and soft living
—
never noticing that he himself lived in just as much luxury as any. How many of
his
people had the little cat killed over the years? And the Prince who led the Sazi snakes
—
Paolo considered him a child and a weakling. He would not risk including him in their plans. But Ahmad had killed Sargon. And while Sargon may have been a madman, killing him was not the act of a weakling.
The snake writhed beneath her hand, and magic poured from his body in an electric wave that blistered the skin of her hand where she touched him, bringing her abruptly back to her body.
Rick's eyes narrowed, blazing gold with his magic and anger. He began unwrapping the snake from his torso as if uncoiling a rope, blood pouring in wet rivulets down the snake's body from the wounds Rick's fingers were digging in its neck.
The reptile gave a massive shudder, then his body stilled once more.
She was in a private library. Books of all shapes and sizes lined every wall. Many were bound in
leather with gold foil. Others had more esoteric coverings. A set of modern paperbacks were stacked crookedly on the desktop. She recognized the caver and titles. These were the Sazi training manuals that had been printed in the guise of fantasy novels.
But it was not one of these that was open on the desk. No, this was a far older volume, its parchment pages were yellowed and brittle with age. The ink with which it had been written had discolored until it was no longer a rich purple, but more of a reddish brown. Still, the words were legible enough, and they described just the ceremony they would need to create amulets that would counter the little cat's abilities. Always assuming, of course, that the translation was correct. It was not a certainty. Only half of the spells they had tried using this particular copy had been effective.
He hissed in irritation. Sargon had insisted on keeping the book in his personal possession. He had been right not to trust Paolo. But his death had thrown everything into disarray. The book was missing
—missing.
So that now they only had the corrupted translation to work from.
"No!" A voice intruded on the vision. It was a boy's voice. It belonged to the snake in Rick's hands. The vision wavered, becoming transparent as his magic fought hers.
Their powers wrestled. The vision of the library wavered and was gone, replaced by shattered images: temples built on temples like Russian nesting dolls. Visions of priests and rulers with different faces, different garb, but serving one purpose throughout the long generations. Together they served and protected the great creature gestating below ground. She, the goddess who would be born, and with her birth would renew the fortunes of their people. They were almost ready. The temple built, the sacrifices gathered
—
A purely mental scream of rage and terror shredded the vision. The connection between her and the boy broke
"Shit!"
Rick collapsed to his knees.
Josette
couldn't seem to move. A white-hot needle of pain lanced through her left eye drawing tears that poured unheeded down her cheeks. The room around her was a complete blur. Only Rick seemed to be in focus.
He stayed on the floor for long moments. He was deathly pale, his breathing was as ragged as if he'd run a marathon. Circles of blood darkened the sleeve of his shirt where the snake had bitten him.
"Are you all right?" It seemed to take all of his effort to speak.
"Are you?"
"He gave me one hell of a squeeze that last time. But it'll heal. You?"
"My head feels like it's going to explode." She took a few unsteady steps over to the staircase. Sinking
gratefully onto one of the lower
r
u
ngs
she sat with her head between her knees. If she was lucky, in a few minutes her body would heal whatever damage had been inflicted. If not, well, she didn't want to think about that.
The phone in her purse rang. The sound was so loud that she whimpered in pain. Rick crawled across the floor until he was at the foot of the stairs. Turning, he sat with his back propped against the metal.
Josette
fumbled with the clasp of her purse, but finally managed to withdraw the phone. She flipped it open and hit the button to answer.
"Hello."
"Who am I speaking to?" Raphael's voice was heavy with suspicion.
"This is Cerise."
"Prove it."
"Oh for God's sake Raphael! Give me a fucking break." She gasped in pain. Shouting made the headache excruciating. "Fine, I have a twin sister who is mated to you. Your daughter with her is getting married this summer to a man neither one of you likes very much. You will be giving the bride away, but Charles is going to get the first dance. I helped come up with the compromise because you have both been fathers to the girl."
"Good enough. Why the hell didn't you check in? What's gone wrong now? Do you need help or backup?"
Rick reached over to take the phone from her hand. "We caught the other snake.
Josette
used her gift to get some information from him. It got a little messy, but we'll heal."
"Are you going to be make your flight? It leaves in ten minutes."
"Yeah, but somebody will have to clean up the mess
—unless you want to leave it to the humans?"
"I'll make the arrangements. Just catch the damned flight." He hung up without saying another word. Rick snapped the phone shut and dropped it into Josette's bag.
Josette
rose, groaning, to her feet. She extended her arm down in an offer to help Rick up as well.
They strapped Rick's duffel onto Josette's suitcase using the strap that had been built into the bag's handle. Then they draped the garment bag on top. With the wheeled bag acting almost as a walker Rick and
Josette
made their way as fast as they could manage through the concourse to their gate as the last of the passengers were lining up to board.
"Are you all right sir?" The pretty blond attendant who took his ticket looked him over carefully, her blue eyes lingering on the fresh, dark red stain on his sleeve.
"I'm a bit tired is all. It's been a long day." He very deliberately let go of the bag to shove the sleeves of his shirt up enough to reveal his forearms. Seeing that there were no marks or injuries, she relented,
giving him back his ticket with only a slightly strained smile.
He followed
Josette
through the square tube and around the accordioned corner. When they reached the plane itself he detached his duffel from her suitcase and collapsed the handle so that he could carry both bags into the plane.
It took a few minutes to board. They had to wait as passengers crammed luggage into the overhead compartments. He desperately wanted to get to his seat. His ribs were healing, as were the organs that had been damaged in the scrap with the snake, but he still hurt, and the healing was taking all of his energy.
The smell of panic assaulted his nostrils as he passed a woman seated near the center of the plane. Her eyes were closed, her mouth moving silently as she fingered the beads of a rosary. He expected his beast to rise to the bait, but apparently he was too injured to react. He supposed that every cloud had a silver lining. At least he wouldn't be having to work not to change and hunt while in flight. Wouldn't that just be a nightmare?
Still, the woman's fear reminded him forcibly of Josette's reaction earlier. Reaching out a hand, he touched her shoulder so that she turned to face him. "Are you going to be all right?"
She gave him a weary smile. "So far so good." One corner of her mouth twitched slightly, and she gave him a wry look. "I think I'm too damned tired to be
really afraid at the moment. His eyes sought her. "Here's hoping that lasts until we land."
"I hope so." He stopped as she started to scoot into her assigned seat. Reaching up he started to load their bags in the overhead compartment. It hurt. A lot. Apparently the snake had managed to screw up the alignment of his spine when he'd broken the ribs. Rick grimaced in pain, but managed to get the luggage stowed safely away. He settled gratefully into his seat before continuing. "I'm afraid I'm not going to be much use to you on this flight." When he twisted at the waist to fasten his seatbelt pain shot through his body in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.
Josette
didn't say a word. Instead, she reached over to lay her hand on his bare forearm. The touch was gentle, tentative and kind. But when he raised his head to meet her eyes he felt a surge of power that pushed him back into the seat. Electric heat made every hair on his body stand on end. He locked his jaw so as not to cry out.
He saw the stewardess moving in the front of the plane, heard the pre-flight safety instructions were playing, but he couldn't move, couldn't take his eyes from Josette's face. Her eyes glowed green and gold, and looking into their depths he felt the pain melt from his body like ice cream in a sunbeam. He almost expected to feel himself dripping onto the worn carpet.
The magic faded, and her eyes were just eyes once again. The scents of baking bread and homemade cookies filled him with the warmth of a different magic altogether. He took a deep gasping breath and felt the air fill his lungs without the stabbing pain of broken ribs. He leaned down to brush her lips with his in the tenderest of possible kisses, noting as he did that he could bend and turn without the shooting pain that had plagued him moments before. "I thought you weren't a healer." He breathed the words across her mouth.
"I'm not," she whispered back, "which is why it hurt. All I could do was push my power into you and let your body do the work. I didn't take much, which is why you still probably hurt a little. I have to save most of
m
y strength."
He kissed her again, nibbling a little at her lips. "Have I told you today how much I love you?"