Like water down a drain, I felt my aura collapse, pulling through me and dissolving my body as it went, shrinking everything down to the mere thought of myself. Though I didn't have a heart, I listened for it, my nonexistent breath held as I felt myself slip into the lines, trying to find something different, a new sensation, a feeling that might help me figure this out. Someone was tuning my aura - or paying someone to do it for them.
Listen like Bis, I thought, allowing a sliver of awareness to slip from the shell I had made about myself. That was a mistake.
Cold stabbed my mind, and I screamed. The agony was so intense, I missed falling into reality, my shriek exploding into existence before I did, echoing back from white walls and tile floors to sound inhuman. I took a breath to scream again, catching it back in a harsh gurgle. The gun in my hand dropped, clattering onto the white tile as I clutched at the floor. Where am I?
The cold in my skull dulled to an ice-cream headache the size of Alaska. "That hurt... ," I panted. My fingers were cramping from having tried to gouge the tile while I was on my hands and knees. I was afraid to move; it had hurt that bad. My gun. Where's my gun?
Panting, I looked past my hair to find a purple-and-black-tinted bubble of ever-after holding me. Purple? I'd not seen an aura that purple in ages. Someone has an ego.
"Is it her?" said a voice behind me, and I managed to sit, grasping my arms to get them to stop shaking. My gun was right next to me. Thank you, God. Brooke, in her nice business dress all starched and pressed, and her shiny red heels. Why wasn't I surprised? No Vivian, though. Maybe she got smart.
"Hi, Brooke," I said dully as I sat cross-legged and put my splat gun in my lap. I hurt too much to be scared of the two big guys in lab coats with her. Where in hell was I? The sun was still up in the West Coast. With a thought, I reached for the nearest line through the purple bubble, finding I was still in Cincinnati and at the university. My eyebrows rose. Whatcha doing, Brooke? Working outside the covens mandates? You had girl, you.
There were syringes on the cart beside the door. Looked like they were going to use human drugs instead of witch magic, understandable since earth magic wouldn't work after the salt dip I was sure was coming. Crap, there was a rolling bed with straps in here.
Yve seen this aura before, I thought as I tested the bubble, curling my fingers under when they cramped and the biting tang of iron hit me. Jeez, I think the circle was made with blood.
"Drop your circle," Brooke demanded, and I followed her gaze to a corner, not recognizing the thin man pointing a shaking pistol at me. A security guard masquerading as a nurse was next to him, three muscle guys total. He was grim faced and watching the pistol, but clearly not minding it being pointed at me. My summoner was wearing a suit that looked a half size too big for him, tie askew, disheveled and scuffed, as if he'd been in a fight. Short black hair framed his small-featured face, and a new scrape on his cheekbone marred his honey-colored skin. Frightened expression. Actually, now that I was paying attention...
"Lee?" I blurted out, taking up my splat gun but not pointing it anywhere. He looked awful. When we'd first met, he'd been in a tux and I'd been in a borrowed dress that cost more than my car. He'd been dashing, charming, confident - and vying for the gambling cartel in Cincy. It had been a bid he'd been on his way to winning until he made the mistake of betting everything on a trip to the ever-after and pitting himself against me in a ley-line magic contest. I'd lost, and Al had taken him, the better ley-line witch, as his familiar.
The last time I'd seen Stanley Saladan, he'd been all but dead, having endured hosting Al in his head and body so the demon could run around this side of the lines for the better part of a month. Lee didn't look much better now.
Lee's eyes narrowed as I spoke, his slight Asian features angry as he held the pistol with both hands. Bullets couldn't get through the bubble - unless he dropped it. Clearly he thought I might be Al. Or not.
"No," he said in a clear Midwestern accent. "He can make himself look like her. I'm not letting him out until I hear him talk. I want to hear him talk!"
Knowing what would happen next, I checked the hopper of my splat gun and sighed.
"You are such an ignoramus," Brooke said impatiently, and gestured.
The big man in the lab coat reached for Lee, deftly smacking his arm away when Lee pointed the gun at him. Almost picking Lee up, the security guard shoved Lee into the bubble.
"Bitch!" Lee shouted, arms flailing as he hit the floor beside me, sliding clear through the bubble to collapse it. The pistol went off and ceiling tile pattered down as I scrambled to put my back to a wall, heart pounding and my gun moving. Three quick puffs, and two docs-in-a-box went down. I missed the one who had thrown Lee. He was good.
"Get her!" Brooke screamed, safe inside her little blue-tinted bubble.
Adrenaline surged, and I rolled. A sharp prick in my thigh iced through me, and I pulled a dart from it, tossing it aside. "I am not an animal!" I shouted, and plugged the last man right in the face with a sleepy-time potion. His eyes rolled up and he went down, but the damage had been done. What in hell? They didn't even use dart guns on Weres! I took a breath, holding it when the room spun. Oh God. They'd drugged me.
And suddenly, nothing much seemed to matter anymore. Damn, it was fast-working stuff.
My pulse slowed, and I blinked when the room tilted. "Good thing I'm on the floor," I breathed, seeing Lee across the room with his back to the wall and his gun still aimed at me. The kind with real bullets. Crap, who would he rather see dead? Al, who had enslaved him, or the person who'd tricked him into it? "I'd give anything for a dead man's float," I said, and his dark eyebrows rose. "You want a martini when we're done here?" I added, and his gun drooped.
"Rachel. Damn, girl. It is you. I thought they were lying. No hard feelings?" he said, glancing at Brooke screaming at the people on the floor to get up. "What the devil are you doing with Al's summoning name?"
His gun wasn't pointing at me, and I tried not to giggle in my relief. "Surviving," I said, rubbing my thigh to make it tingle where the dart had hit me, right through my jeans. "Or maybe, trying to survive. This isn't looking good right now."
He nodded, scuffing the bits of ceiling tile between us. The door was still closed. No one had come in, but they might if Brooke wouldn't shut up. "It was never anything personal, you know, between us," he said again.
Nothing personal? A spark of anger burst and fizzled as I remembered Kisten getting shot at Lee's house, and then Lee trying to sell me to Al. My leg quivered. The drug was shifting, becoming more potent. My hands opened, and my gun slid to the tile. I tried to grasp it, failing. If I hadn't been on the floor, I would have fallen. Blinking, I looked at Brooke, still fuming behind her bubble. If she stepped out, Lee might shoot her, and she knew it. But if she stayed in there, we'd simply walk out. Neener, neener, neener...
"I need... to know," I said, slurring. I tried to pick up my gun, but my fingers only pushed it around, and it scraped the tile sadly. "Does Al have anything on you at all? Do you owe him a cup of coffee? A stick of gum? Anything?"
Lee lifted his chin, hiding his panic at the memory of being Al's familiar. "Not anymore. The second he let go of my body, it was over. I'm no one's slave."
I managed a smile. "That's good. Good for you, Lee. You shouldn't let Trent push you around anymore either. You want to get out of here?" Crap. My ears were humming, and I couldn't pick up my damn gun. I didn't have the luxury of holding a grudge. "I need some help, Lee. Please. I got you away from Al. Sort of."
Glancing at Brooke, Lee shook his head. "Sorry, Rachel," he stated again. "You're too dangerous. Al follows you like a puppy."
I nodded, feeling the world list. "He can't touch you when you're with me. Pr-r-romise."
He thought about that for an unreal three seconds, his attention sliding to the door and back. "I've never heard of you lying to anyone," he finally said, a glimmer of his old confidence showing. "You've got a deal."
Oh, good. I didn't think I could stay awake much longer.
"You son of a bitch!" Brooke shouted, infuriated, but Lee was crossing the room to me. "She gave you to a demon! And you're going to risk your life for her? Are you insane?"
Lee scuffed his five-hundred-dollar shoe to a halt before me. "Trent seems to think you're hard to deal with. I've never seemed to have that problem."
"Well, Trent's just a big b-badass, isn't he," I slurred. "You leave, and you're a dead witch!" Brooke threatened from her bubble. "Dead!"
"She's stronger than you," Lee said to her, his fingers moving in a subtle ley-line charm to make my skin prickle. "And she asked for my help. She didn't dart me like an animal and drag me from my business meeting. Bitch." He knelt beside me, and the scent of redwood grew stronger. "Upsy daisy, Rachel. We need to find a phone. They took mine."
"She took mine, too," I whispered as he put an arm under my shoulder and lifted. Lee smelled good as I slid into him. Really good, like redwood and the sea, and I shoved my face into his chest. "You smell nice," I said, giggling, then whooped when he stood and my feet scrabbled for purchase. He'd picked up my gun, and I reached for it even as my knees wobbled.
"And you weigh more than you look," he grumbled, staggering as my balance shifted.
I could feel the energy in him tingle between us where we touched. His hands were like sparks of sensation, the curse he had prepped but not invoked hovering an inch off his skin, rubbing my aura like a power pull. Or maybe it was just the drugs.
Brooke fumed. "Don't be stupid, Saladan," she threatened, pulling out a phone and hitting a button. Though I was half out of my mind, I thought it telling that she was afraid to face him alone. She was afraid he might know black magic. How smart was it that our highest-ranking affiliation of witches intentionally kept themselves so clean that they couldn't stand up to one black-arts spell unless they were in a group?
Lee wasn't fazed by her threats, and he took on more of my weight as he edged us around one of the downed men. "You don't get it, do you?" he said as I got my arms around his neck and lost control of my legs. Not missing a beat, Lee hoisted me up and dropped my gun into my lap. "There is nothing you can do that could be worse than what happened to me in the ever-after," he said, me in his arms. "So what if she might be a demon? She was born on our side of the lines. I'd like to have her as a friend. Go ahead and put me in Alcatraz. At least I'd be safe there from what's coming."
"Oh good, Lee is my friend," I slurred, then tried to swallow my spit, having to really concentrate on it. We were moving. Isnt Pierce supposed to he here? He said he'd follow me. The world was spinning. I couldn't focus on the door, inches from my face as Lee fumbled for the lever and used his hip to trigger it. The door cracked open, and I breathed in the scent of books and coffee-stained carpet that said university. There was no noise, and it felt damp, as if we were underground. No wonder no one had come at the gunshot. I thought we were in the basement.
Brooke confidently snapped her phone shut. "You won't get three steps out that door," she said from behind the sheet of clear-blue-tinted ever-after, afraid to come out with Lee's hands hazed by black magic even as they held me like a lover. "Filthy, dirty black-magic witch."
Lee halted in the threshold, a faint smile quirking his lips. He had a tiny scar on his eyelid, and I tried to touch it. "There's no proof that I use black magic, and my lawyers get paid more than yours," he said, then glanced at me. "What are you doing?"
"You got a cute scar," I said, and he sighed.
"You are so stoned," he said as he strode into the hallway. Lee was saving me. How screwed up was that?
A tingling went through my aura, and my eyes widened. "She's outta her circle," I said, and he turned so fast my stomach lurched. Then I shrieked when Lee let go of me. My gun hit the floor with my feet, and I leaned into him, almost falling but for the arm he kept around me.
"There," he said, lips inches from my ear as three big guys in gray literally rolled into the hallway, weapons pointed. One had a wand, the other two conventional weapons. Lee shifted his arm around my throat as if holding me captive. "I want out!" he yelled as if crazed. "My name is Stanley Saladan, and I want a car at the front with the keys in the ignition and running. Clear the halls. Or I'll fuckin' kill her!"
Brooke laughed from the doorway. "Shoot them both," she said as she filled a syringe.
I whimpered, unable to feel my feet. If it wasn't for Lee, I'd be on the floor.
"Sorry, Rachel," Lee said as he dropped me. "Cover your eyes."
Shrieking, I hit the floor. I was looking at the ugly carpet squares when a bright flash made everything white-light hot. Cries rang out, and guns popped. Nothing hit me, and I got my elbows under me and looked up. Lee was standing over me like an avenging angel in a baggy suit, hands moving as he spoke a ley-line charm. My hair began to float and I shivered. The black curse slithered over me, rubbing my aura like black silk, whispering of power. I'd felt Lee's strength before, and it had crushed me. He really was the better witch.
Brooke was down, one of her legs and a red shoe showing through the open door. The three men in the hall were blinking, clustered together at the center of a charred circle that ran up the walls and touched the ceiling. Doors were opening, and heads were poking out. "Leave, or you will die," Lee said, and the one with the wand bolted back the way he had come.
"No!" I shouted, but Lee threw the spell hazing his hand with dripping blackness. His magic hit the two remaining men, and they screamed, the sound clawing out of their throats as if being pulled by twisted razor wire as they collapsed into a convulsing pile. The doors down the hall shut. Someone had pulled the fire alarm, and I covered my ears.
The two men were silent, no longer moving as blood spilled from their eyes and ears. Shit. Shit. Shit. I was going to get blamed for this.
"You got a way out of here, right?" he asked, my hands falling as he pulled me up.
"I wish you hadn't done that," I whispered. I was going to throw up. I knew it.
"I said, do you have a way out!" Lee exclaimed, hoisting me higher and tucking his shoulder under mine. "Can you jump us out or something? You're the demon here."
"I'm not a demon," I slurred. "And I c my fingers between my neck and his tail wrapped around me. "Bis, get off. Please."
Babbling apologies, the young gargoyle jumped to the carpet. I took a clean breath, but then my eyes widened. "Lee, no!" I shouted, seeing him standing between Pierce and me. His hands were dripping black, and with a shout, he flung the curse at him.
Shirttails swinging, Pierce drew a line in the air, and a sheet of green fell before him to block the blast. The forces hit in a silent, colorful concussion, and then the film was gone, having absorbed the energy and run back to the ever-after where it had come from.
"Lee, he's with me. He's with me!" I shouted, but no one was listening. "Stop fighting. Both of you!" But it was too late. His expression dark, Pierce spoke three words of Latin, shaking the air and making Lee's jaw drop.
"Sweet Jesus!" Brooke shouted from the doorway, and I saw her dart back inside.
Gun. Where's my gun? I need to shoot someone. I looked, then started crawling for it, glad my hands were working again. Lee and Pierce were going to kill each other!
There was a boom of sound, and Lee fell to one knee. He looked up, smiling, his hair falling into his eyes. I think he was enjoying this. A bubble had enveloped both of us, and under its protection, a shimmering sparkle of purple and black cascaded around us. Then the bubble was gone, and Lee was standing again. An admiring whistle came from him. "Not bad," he said, grinning. "Can you do it twice?"
"I'll allow that I'd not be wanting to make a fist with you," Pierce said. "Step from Ms. Morgan, or I'll be obliged to beat you soundly, sir."
"Stop. Stop!" I shouted from the floor, waving my gun as I found it. "Pierce, Lee's helping me. It's Brooke you need to worry about! Brooke, not Lee!"
Pierce hesitated, his fist glowing black. "The mongrel dog summoned you," he stated, blue eyes unsure.
"Brooke made him do it!" I said, and Pierce turned to Lee. Lee had his own dripping ball, and at his grin, the glow went out of Pierce's hand. "You're of a mind to help Rachel?"
"Got you, you bitch," Brooke whispered.
"Hey!" I jerked my foot as a sharp pain stabbed through my lower leg. Bis flew up in a flurry of wings. Damn it, she'd gotten me again!
Lee's face became grim. Making a decision, he flung the black goo he'd made for Pierce at Brooke. My focus blurred, but I heard her scream. It ceased with a frightening suddenness as a purple-tinged sheet covered her. She convulsed, then was still.
I didn't feel so good. Eyes crossing, I started to collapse. A warm hand caught me, and everything shifted as I slumped into Pierce. I couldn't open my eyes, but I knew it was him because I could smell coal dust and shoe polish. "I thought you were a ruffian," I heard him say, then I groaned as he stood and the world spun.
"I am," Lee said, amused, "but Rachel is the better bet this spin of the wheel. Do you have a car?"
"There are cars at the curb," he said guardedly. "Can you drive? Rachel is of a mind that I'm no good at it."
"Like a pixy drunk on h-honey," I stammered.
There was a whimper from the huddled pile by the cart, and Lee's eyes narrowed. "Next time, ask for my help!" he said loudly. "You won't get it, but at least you won't piss me off!"
Oh good. Brooke was still alive. My fingers searched blindly, finding Pierce's neck. " 'Bout time you got here," I slurred, lost again in the haze of whatever drug I was on. My eyes opened, and I tried to slap his face, but it barely touched him, and I giggled. "Gun. Where's my gun? We have to take Lee with us."
"You have my apology, sir," Pierce said, his voice stiff as he hoisted me higher.
"Gun," I murmured. "I want my gun, damn it!" There was a soft breath of air, and it dropped in my lap. "Thanks, Bis," I slurred. "Toot, toot! Train leaving!"
The arms around me stiffened. "Rachel?"
"Brooke drugged her," Lee said. "I suggest the stairs." There was a slight hesitation, and then we started to move. The smell of burnt carpet intruded, then vanished.
"That was a devilishly fine ward," Pierce said, and I looked up at the ceiling as the lights passed over me, seeing Bis in flashes as he crawled along the ceiling as fast as we could walk. Smiling, I patted Pierce's stub-bled cheek, amazed by how I couldn't feel his face no matter how hard I smacked it.
"I like your hat, Pierce," I said, trying to focus.
The sound of people in the hallway started to become obvious the higher we went. The fire alarm was still hooting, and the building was clearing out. I giggled as I jostled in Pierce's arms. Damn it, there was nothing funny, but I couldn't stop.
Above me, Pierce looked worriedly at Lee. "Are you sure she's all right?"
"She's absolutely fine," Lee said, and I snorted as we followed the excited students up the last stairway.
I perked up when we spilled out the small side door and into the dark. Noise hit me, and flashing lights. Three firefighters lumbered to us, faceless behind air packs and face shields.
"Downstairs!" Lee shouted. "They're four people downstairs, unconscious! Some witch knocked them all out! She's crazy!"
"Ambulance is over there," one said, pointing, and he was gone, darting through the door as another student came out. Four more guys in orange lumbered past, their breath hissing through air hoses and looking like monsters in the night. A crowd had gathered, and fending off their help, Pierce made for the lamplit street, still carrying me.
"There," he said, looking at the unattended fire marshal's car, running at the curb.
"You've got to be kidding," Lee said, looking unsure.
Pierce fumbled for the back door, and I shrieked as we fell in, me somehow ending up on Pierce's lap. His hat fell, and I managed to pick it up off the floor, putting it on my head. "You said you could drive. Let's pull foot!" Pierce said, fending me off as my mouth kept going, unable to stop singing, "Lookie, I'm Pierce," over and over again.
"Can we please go!" Pierce said, panic edging into his voice. "Rachel is not well."
"You got that right." Lee looked at the distant lights flashing blue and red in the dark, and the marshal standing with his back to us, trying to calm down some guy wearing tweed and having too many lattes in him.
"Steal the fire marshal's car," he said, yanking up the handle and getting in behind the wheel. "Why the hell not? Can't you shut her up!"
"No," Pierce said, voice mournful as we jerked into motion and I squealed in delight. "More is the pity. Drive fast."