Cassandra's Dilemma (13 page)

His dark-brown tie complemented the dark-brown stripes on his white suit shirt. He was dressed exactly as he had been the day of the explosion. His brown-blond hair, tousled by the wind, was a bit too curly. He really should have taken the time for a haircut before the announcement, but so much of their planning had been last minute.

Despite his appearance, he was less somehow, faded and insubstantial. She couldn’t quite see through him. He ran a hand through his hair self-consciously. “Sorry, boss, I got hung up talking to Diane out in L.A. about the follow-ups and missed my cab, or I would have gotten a haircut before I set up that morning.”

“It’s all right,” Cassie offered by way of comfort. She was certainly not going to chastise him about missing a haircut. A breeze from the city side of the park carried the scent of hot dogs, pretzels, and car exhaust. Her nose wrinkled, because the faint rank odor of garbage, heat, sweat, and cabbage scuttled under those scents.

“No, Cassandra, it’s not okay. Especially if you’re feeling badly.” Helcyon closed his hand around Cassie’s arm and pulled her away from the blast site. “You have had a tremendous shock in the last two days. We have little else we can gain from staying here…”

Cassie ignored Helcyon, watching Billy as he wandered around the scorched field. He moved aimlessly, hands tucked carelessly into his pockets, eyes on the ground. She pulled away from Helcyon and paced after Billy, unconsciously mimicking his pose, studying the ground.

“You selfish sonovabitch.” Book’s low whisper, dark with menace, carried across to her. Cassie glanced at the two men briefly. Book’s thicker frame seemed larger somehow while Helcyon seemed more blurred, fuzzy and softer.

She looked back at Billy and followed her instincts, following him and frowning at the ground. The scorch marks were thicker in some places, darker, and in others they were smoother, shiny. The shine drew her, the planes of earth smoothed away like the face of obsidian, polished to a fine sheen.

Kneeling down, her knees protested, the hint of barely remembered bruises aching. The ground felt hot, almost too hot to the touch. She hovered her hand just above the earth and wondered why it felt so hot, but her knee felt nothing where she was kneeling.

“Strangest damn thing,” Billy muttered. “I remember going up to the podium, I checked the bandstand, everything was in place, even Rochester was there and he’d sworn he was going to skip, but there he was, front-row center, dropping his bags under his chair. I’m pretty sure he came straight from the airport.”

“Phillip Rochester? World News Phillip Rochester?” That surprised her. Rochester hated press conferences. A fact he was not remotely shy about hiding. If he wanted someone to spoon-feed him the news, he would talk to his mother. That was how he signed off his columns on the subject.

“Exactly, it surprised me to see him. I was going to tell you, but—well, you know, boom…”

“Boom.” Cassie sighed. The pain crushed her heart, doubling even more at his light, faintly chagrinned description.

“Cassie.” Book’s long shadow fell over her. “We need to go now.” He spoke in a gentle, coaxing voice. He paused, staring at the glossy scorch mark she hovered over, hand extended. “I need you to step back from the portal, all right? Just step back and hold your hand out to me.”

“Portal?” Cassie looked from the mark to Book then back again. “You recognize this?”

“Portals create that kind of burn. It happens when someone shifts swiftly, too swiftly. It upsets the natural patina of the landscape and leaves scorch marks.”

“There are dozens of these.” Cassie twisted, standing up and letting Book steady her briefly before pulling away. “If you walk in a circle, there are at least thirteen that I’ve counted.”

“Thirteen?” Book frowned, his eyes narrowing at Helcyon, who kept his distance. “How many of them were here when you were ready for your announcement?”

“None. The Fae were all going to enter after I made the introductions.”

“Even your bodyguard there?” Book jerked his head to Helcyon, who moved to join them finally, but his stiff posture indicated a reluctance.

“Helcyon wasn’t my bodyguard then—”

“That’s not precisely true.” The Elf actually looked abashed. Cassie frowned. “I was watching, but only from a distance. Had I been more engaged, you would not have suffered such grievous injuries in the blast. As it was, I was too far away to effect any protection from such a threat.”

“Did you divert the blast from me then?”

“No. Had I been closer, I would have. The energy pooled around you, swirling away, but not by my hand.”

“So you watched, but you weren’t actually protecting. That’s efficient,” Book spat in distaste. “If you were here, then what happened?”

“I don’t know.” That admission cost the Elf. Cassie could see the pained consternation on his face. The lines around his eyes deepened, his gaze became more remote, and like Billy, he seemed to blur around the edges.

“You’re not a ghost, are you?” To hell with protocol. She’d been cooperating, and all she had was a concussion, a dead assistant, and more questions than answers.

“A ghost?” Helcyon frowned and shook his head. “No…why would you ask that?”

“You’re blurry. All around the edges. It comes and it goes, but for a moment there, you blurred.”

“Oh, good. She can see through your Otherness, too.” Book grinned broadly. “Keep it up, Elf, you’ll prove all my points for me.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Book smirked again.

That’s it.

Cassie’s phone chose that moment to start ringing again. She thumbed it off without looking at the caller ID.

“Okay,
I’ve
had it.” Cassie folded her arms and fixed each man with a gimlet eye. “I’m done answering questions, getting poked, prodded, or shoved around until you two explain what the hell is going on. I agreed to be your representative, to put a good face on your announcement, and to handle your public relations. I did not agree to be blown up, shot, seduced, dragged through portals, or made to feel like some helpless female in a slasher movie—”

The last line was delivered with great eloquence that Cassie would have been proud of if not for the sudden surge of ice-cold air, the wrapping of black tentacles around her middle, and the total looks of horror on her audience’s faces.

She screamed as she was yanked backward through one of the glassy portals, shards exploding on impact. They cut at her hands, her face, and stung her eyes. She tasted blood in her mouth where she bit her tongue. The punishing force around her midsection released, tumbling Cassie backward, down and down until she impacted on soft earth, smelling of loam, manure, and something she thought twice about identifying.

Opening her mouth to yell, she caught the blow full to the face. Falling, her head cracked against a stone, and stars dazzled her eyes.

“Boss, hang on—they’re coming.” Billy sounded like he’d spent one too many hours in the dentist’s chair. Or maybe that was just her. Maybe it was how hard her head hit the stonework.

Another blow caught her in the shoulder, and she flipped, scraping her chin along the stone. Blood spurted from her nose and sliced lip. She tried not to think of the taste of it in her mouth.

He—no,
it
stalked toward her. Cassie tried to assess her situation. It was dark, it smelled badly, she was alone, and something in the dark seemed intent on eating her face.

Could be worse.

She wasn’t sure how, but it could be worse. “Billy?” Cassie tested her voice, surprised at how rough the hoarse whisper sounded even to her own ears.

“Right here, boss.”

“This is a nightmare, right?”

“Sorry, boss—” The roar from the thing trying to eat her face cut him off. Cassie’s heart sank.

She planned to die, old and infirm, at the ripe old age of ninety-five, not ninety-four or ninety-six, but ninety-five. Old enough to know better and young enough to still get a kick out of not giving a hoot. She had no plans to die in this dark, stinking hole as a victim.

Dammit.

She shoved her hands in her pockets. She didn’t have a gun or a magical sword to summon from anywhere. Hell, she didn’t have any damn salt. Yanking her hands out of her pockets, she ran her hands over the rough stone wall, using it as a guide. She took one step, testing the footing carefully. Loose rocks shifted under her sneaker. She paused, listening to the darkness, and the sounds of a snorting breath came just inches from her ear.

Cassie froze, fingers digging into the shale rock. Hot, moist breath brushed her cheek, and something skittered along the rock.

Don’t scream.

Don’t scream.

Don’t scream.

It breathed, flush against her face, snuffling and foul.

She held her breath, closing her eyes and trying to concentrate on the idea that she was not trapped in the inky darkness with a creature that wanted to eat her. The warm breath snuffled down the length of her, lingering near her face before brushing past her once more.

Swallowing her fear, Cassie counted a hundred of her heartbeats before shuffling her feet forward. Her breathing rasped loudly to her own ears, but the snuffling in the darkness kept moving away. Step by step, she kept moving. She had no idea what direction she traveled in. She just followed the wall.

Cold air breezed across her face. Cassie paused, turning her nose toward the fresh air washing away the foul odor. Keeping one hand firmly on the wall, Cassie tested the ground away from it with her foot. She tried one step and then another. She resisted the urge to curl down to her hands and knees as she moved her fingers away from the wall.

Fear thrummed through her. Nothing moved in the darkness. Biting her lip, Cassie tested another step, then another and another, five steps and counting. The breeze grew stronger as she slid forward, one agonizing step at a time. She refused to lift her feet, edging them along, certain that the blackness hid a sudden precipice just waiting for her to tumble over the edge.

Another dozen steps from the safety of the rough wall, she ran into another stone wall. The wind grew stronger, carrying the scent of brine, sand, and sunshine. Blinking her eyes slowly, Cassie strained to catch a glimpse of something, anything.

The breeze seemed to be coming from both directions, so Cassie wet one of her fingers, grimacing at the taste of dirt, dust, and blood. Left hand splayed against the stone, she raised her right hand to test the breeze. It came more strongly from her right. Bracing herself, Cassie began edging her way along the wall.

Sweat beaded the back of her neck, soaking her hair and dripping down the long line of her back. The tank top stuck to her uncomfortably, but she tried to ignore it, concentrating on what her other senses were telling her.

At a hundred steps along the wall, she stopped counting. Her movements became sluggish, repetitive. She’d slide her foot forward, testing the ground before putting her full weight on it. Her hand glided along the stone wall, seeking any opening. The breeze continued to blow against her, carrying the promise of the sea and freedom, but like the Greek Tantalus of myth, Cassie seemed doomed to disappointment.

Her pattern snapped as she encountered a hard surface with her foot. Blinking, Cassie stretched her right hand forward and found the surface extended up to her. Drawing her hands along, she found the corner was rough, yet curved.

It was another wall.

Cassie choked back a cry and turned to press her back against the corner. Sliding down, she sat on the rough ground, ignoring the hard stones that bit into her buttocks through her slacks. She could just imagine how she looked.

The maddening breeze continued to blow from the wall pressed at her back. It cooled the rivulets of sweat dripping down her face and soaking through her clothing. Panting, she sat there, waiting. Her racing heart began to slow, and her panting became deeper, more regular breaths.