Dangerous Calling (The Shadowminds) (8 page)

This was not what I’d expected.

Damn the consequences; damn the invasion of privacy. I dove into Diana’s head.

That wasn’t what I expected, either.

Everything was dark except the part she clearly wanted me to hear, which in itself was astonishing. The message itself was even more so.
—too dangerous—too dangerous—she’ll kill you—you can hear me—I
know you can hear me—she’ll kill you—I’ve seen it—she’ll kill you and she’ll kill him—you shouldn’t have come—too dangerous—leave leave leave leave—

I’d heard enough. I’d leave, all right—but not without Diana.

I waited for her to look at me and held her gaze. I knew she couldn’t mindspeak, so I shook my head a tiny fraction and said what I could with my eyes.
I’m getting you out of here.

Diana understood, or at least she seemed to. She licked her lips nervously, and her breath came faster. In her mind was a single word—
How?
—colored unmistakably with hope.

I had no way of explaining. I could only hold her gaze with what I hoped was reassurance.

“It’s going to take me a few minutes,” she said to the floor. It was the first time I’d heard her speak since she’d walked into the room, and her voice quavered. She was giving me time.

Annette’s face showed nothing but concern. Diana closed her eyes and gripped her knees, her knuckles white. I reached out with my powers for Annette.

There was nothing there.

I had to suppress a sound of surprise. She was like an emptiness in the room, not just inert but absent, as though the space she occupied had been sliced out of existence with a scalpel. I grasped around her, clumsy.

It was clear she couldn’t feel what I was doing. She sat, legs crossed at the ankles, watching me with the same even gaze she’d leveled at me from the start. My searching became frantic. Diana rocked back and forth in her seat.
—hurry hurry hurry hurry—

“Dia?” Annette was instantly on her feet. “Are you all right?”

Diana nodded but didn’t speak. Even I didn’t believe her. It had to be now.

The house was air-conditioned. That was unfortunate. I cast my mental hands toward the lawn, the landscaping, the oak tree out back. I breathed in deep and took in power with the air, feeling the azalea bushes turn brittle and the tree shed browning leaves. It wouldn’t be enough.

Annette cocked her head and looked at me the way a large cat looks at a wounded antelope. Diana’s hands started shaking.

This was my only shot. There was no way I’d be able to bluff my way in twice, not once she counted that cash. I needed more power, and the only place to get it was from Diana.

“Take a deep breath,” I told her, and Annette’s eyes narrowed.

Diana nodded, understanding. I pulled slowly, carefully, watching her for signs of distress. Her power was huge. It was a well of organized energy, and if I hadn’t known better, I would’ve thought she was funneling it to me actively. Ice formed at my feet, crackling.

Annette looked at the ice, confusion making her pause. A mistake. Power wrapped around me, sank into me, filled me up. Sparks flashed in my eyes. Annette gathered herself, muscles tightening, confusion set aside. She didn’t look like much, but then, neither did I. No time left.

“
Shane
,” I sent, knowing he could barely hear me, “
we’re on our way.
”

I lunged for Diana, wrapped her in a bear hug, and jumped. The last thing I heard before we winked out was Annette’s roar.

Chapter Eight

The nothingness of the jump was absolute. No light, no sound, no heat. It was the silence of it that I found most disorienting. It wasn’t so much the absence of sound as the absence of its possibility, as though even if I screamed, I wouldn’t make a noise. I could feel Diana’s body as I wrapped my arms around her, but beyond that, there was nothing. She might have been screaming herself. I couldn’t tell.

We came through gasping and hit asphalt in the middle of a deserted road. I fell over, panting. Jumps didn’t affect me as much as they used to, but when I wiped my nose, I came away with blood. Diana went down on all fours and retched.

“You’ll be okay.” I crouched beside her. “Just breathe. In and out.”

I wiped my bloody hand on my jeans and slipped into her surface thoughts to pick up her mental state. It was a chaotic tangle at the moment, nothing but fear. She was hyperventilating between heaves. I rubbed her back between her shoulder blades and tried to bring her mental state into a calmer rhythm. Shane came running up.

“What happened? Is she okay?” He got on his knees next to me.

“Just disoriented. She’ll be all right. Diana?”

She wheezed and coughed, spitting blood onto the road. “Have to go—have to keep moving—have to go—where is she—” There were broken blood vessels in her eyes and hands. She looked frantically up and down the road like a squirrel in traffic.

“Diana, calm down, look at me.” I grabbed her arms. I was going to have to intervene in her head more than I’d wanted to. “You’re safe, okay? You’re safe. She can’t follow you. We’re miles away.” I slipped deeper into her mind as I spoke, looking for the place that governed consciousness. She was in overdrive, an engine about to burn out. I applied mental pressure, a strong suggestion of calm, one step shy of total possession. In this deep, I could tell she wasn’t seriously hurt, but her vision was watery, and she was about to pass out from hypoxia.

“You—you teleported—” Her eyes darted around as if she were watching a tennis match gone wrong.

“That’s right. There’s no way for her to follow us.”

She calmed a little and stood, taking in the deserted road, the pines and oaks filtering the moonlight. Then she noticed Shane.

“It’s you,” she said. “It’s you.” Her brain ramped up again. “You have to—no—no—” She bent double and clutched her temples, moaning. She muttered a litany of
no
and clawed at her face with her fingernails, tearing the skin. Shane looked on in horrified paralysis.

“Diana!” I grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Diana, stop!”

But she was past reaching. I did the only thing I hoped would help—I pushed my way into her brain and forced her into sleep.

* * *

The B&B was quiet when we got back. A few of the rooms were still empty—the two college guys sharing the Blue Room were probably still out on Bourbon—but most of the guests were sleeping. Lionel and Bruce were both snoring on the third floor. We tiptoed into the kitchen, and I turned on the lights. Shane carried Diana in his arms.

“I think the Robicheau Room is vacant.” I turned to go up the back stairs, but the motion made me dizzy, and I had to catch myself against the kitchen table.

“Cass, I think you should sit down.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and the spinning subsided. “I’m fine. Let’s get her to a room.”

“I’ll get her settled. Sit down and have some orange juice.” His eyes flicked over my face, and I felt a trickle of warmth over my lips. I swiped them with the back of my hand and came away with fresh blood.

I sat.

The stairs creaked as Shane climbed them. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and drained it in one long pull, suddenly ravenous. The kitchen was close and hot. It still hadn’t shed the heat of the day, and Lionel didn’t run the window unit down here at night. I grabbed the rest of the leftover muffins and took the basket onto the back porch.

The night was warm, but there was a slight breeze, and I sat down on the steps to munch on the muffins. I hadn’t bothered to turn the exterior lights on, so there weren’t too many bugs swarming.

I could feel Shane settling Diana on one of the guest beds and taking off her shoes. Her mind hummed with the typical disjointed images of sleep, and I slipped away before my presence could disturb her. She’d have enough to worry about when she woke up. I wanted her to get all the rest she could.

Shane moved on to the bathroom, checking for towels and toiletries. He was more like his uncle than he knew. The impulse to care and protect was as strong in Shane as it was in Lionel.

I pressed a wad of paper towels to my nose. Still bleeding. I could barely make out the old kitchen through the darkness, and I walked to it, running my hands over the rough brick.

The only warning I had was the slight change in air pressure around me. Then something slammed into me and dragged me to the dark side of the old kitchen.

I struggled on instinct, lashing out with my fist. Something caught it painfully and trapped my hands above my head. I gathered my breath to scream, but my attacker pressed a hand over my mouth and stopped me. My eyes went wide. It was Annette.

“Don’t make a sound.” She pressed her forearm to my throat. “Don’t call for help.” Her honey-soft voice had gone rough with threat and fury. Her eyes darted right and left, assessing. “If anyone walks around that corner, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.”

I believed her. I nodded as much as her grip would allow.

“Good.” She leaned closer. I could feel her breath, cool and metallic. She met my eyes dead-on. I was struck all over again by their unnatural paleness, and after a moment, they were all I could see. Ice and frozen stillness. My muscles went lax.

“Good,” she said again. “Good.”

I stared into her limitless eyes. They were beautiful, like clear, pale sapphires, reflecting all the available light and shining like lamps in the dark. I couldn’t feel the heat anymore, or hear the sounds of the Quarter. I couldn’t see the wooden fence that separated our yard from the neighbor’s. I could only see her eyes and their perfect, crystalline light.

When she spoke, her voice was tangled so completely with my own thoughts, I wasn’t sure she’d spoken after all.

“Go into the house and bring out Diana.”

It was the wrong thing to do. I nodded anyway.

“
Cass?
” Shane’s voice in my head, barely making it through. “
What’s going on?
” There was a hint of anxiety in it. He knew something wasn’t right. I should tell him what was wrong, I should let him see.

“Say nothing to anyone.”

Shane. I had to tell Shane. But I nodded, and stayed silent.

“Send her out to me, and tell no one that you saw me.” Annette removed her forearm from my throat. I hadn’t noticed the pressure. I rubbed my neck as she took a step back from me, letting me pass.

“
Cass?
”

“Go,” Annette said, and there was something new in her voice, something unhappy.

No—this wasn’t right.
This wasn’t—

My brain cleared. My vision snapped back into focus.

“You.” I gathered my powers and slammed her, a direct shot to the chest. She barely staggered. I stepped forward, and she held her ground.

“Shadowmind.” Her eyes narrowed.

“Yeah.” I pulled from the air and the earth, the now-familiar crackle of ice giving me confidence. “And then some.”

I hurled an enhanced wall of force directly at her—enough power to shatter a human’s ribs. Annette slammed into the fence with a grunt of pain, but she kept her feet, squaring off against me.

“Very well,” she said, and ran at me.

I wasn’t prepared for how strong she was. Freakishly, inhumanly strong. She hauled me up and threw me over her shoulder, then scrambled over the fence like a squirrel up a tree. I struggled in her grip, but it was no use.

The building next door was an old mansion that had been converted to apartments sometime in the fifties. It still had a slate tile roof and a bunch of elaborate carved woodwork around the windows. I’d always thought it was pretty. At the moment, the decorative work was only good for giving Annette handholds as she climbed to the top.

“
Shane!
”

“
Cass!
Where are you?
”

“
Look up!
”

Below, I saw him run into the yard. I beat against Annette’s back, but she held on. When we reached the top, she put me in a choke-hold, lifting me off my feet. I could barely draw enough air to stay conscious. Annette stood at the very edge of the roof, dangling me over the side. A slate tile cracked and slid to the ground, smashing on brick of the back patio.

My brain went oddly clear as I considered my options. I could jump and take her with me, but I knew I couldn’t pull from her to stop our fall. I’d have to draw from the environment. I knew it wouldn’t be enough, but it was my only option.

“
Too risky.
” Shane’s voice was calm, but his head was full of terror and his pulse was racing. I could tell he was marshaling his considerable strength, preparing to help me if I jumped.

“
I’ll be fine.
” We both knew it wasn’t true. My pulse raced. There were a dozen warm bodies in the apartment complex, and the panicked, desperate part of my brain yearned to pull from them. A more rational part worried I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I began the process of drawing energy from my surroundings.

“
You don’t have enough time.
”

“
It’ll be enough.
”

Annette took out a cell phone without loosening her grip on me even a fraction. I heard the faint ring of the landline in the B&B kitchen. Shane darted inside and picked it up.

“Let her go.” I could hear his voice through Annette’s speaker.

“Give me Diana, and I won’t drop her.”

“
No
,
Shane.
” I prayed he would listen. “
I
can do this.
”

He wavered. For a moment, I thought he’d trust me to save myself, but then he put up shields against me and said, “Deal.”

I struggled against Annette’s grip. She didn’t move. Her eyes were fixed on the back door of the B&B.

“
Shane
,
no!
”

“
I’m sorry.
” He was running up the stairs. “
We’ll get her back.
I’m not risking you.
”

“
You have to.
”

“I’m waiting,” Annette said into the phone, and then the two of us flew back onto the roof and went down under a rolling mass of wings and limbs.

Bone crunched. Whose, I wasn’t sure. More slate tiles cracked beneath us and fell, and Annette lost her grip on my neck. I tumbled to the edge of the roof and only barely caught myself in time, grabbing a broken tile and slicing my hand open. My legs slid over the side and I kicked wildly, dragging myself back up.

By the time I got back onto the roof, Ian and Annette were both on their feet, circling each other. One of Ian’s wings was bent awkwardly, and bloody feathers were scattered across the slate. Annette’s hands were streaked crimson.

“You okay, Cass?” Ian kept his eyes on Annette.

“How did you—”

“Later.” Ian circled Annette, watching her. They were both surefooted on the sliding tiles.

“
Shane...
”

“
I
see him.
”

Ian flared his good wing. Annette lunged too fast for me to make out the movement, and another burst of feathers rained down. She wasn’t carrying a weapon that I could see, but Ian’s good wing was newly streaked with blood.

“
What is he doing?
” Shane raced back down the stairs alone.

“
Fighting?
”

“
I
can see that.
Why?
”

“
I
have no idea.
”

“Guardian.” Annette’s voice had dropped to a hiss.

Ian smiled, and then he struck. This time it was Annette who bled. I saw the blade flash in his hand, and when he spun away, there was a rip in her black shirt and red slash across her belly. Blood—not enough of it—soaked the tattered edge of her shirt. She didn’t even wince.

“Pathetic,” she said.

Ian flipped the knife and threw it at Annette’s chest.

I screamed when the blade found its home. I couldn’t help it. She staggered, looking shocked. The knife had gone in to its hilt on the left side of her chest, and she looked down at it, fingers trailing over the black plastic handle as though she was inspecting it for cracks. She hit her knees, still staring at it. Ian ran to where I clung to the roof.

“Are you okay?”

I didn’t answer him. I was shaking too hard to speak. He pulled me to my feet and dragged me forward.

“I’ll get you down. Hold on to my neck.” He wrapped my arms around him and stood, bringing me to my feet. I doubted my legs would’ve supported me otherwise. Up close, I could see how badly he was injured. I hoped he wasn’t planning on flying down, because there was enough blood on his wings to soak a bath towel.

“Fire escape,” I said. “Middle of the roof.”

He pulled me over. There was a courtyard in the middle of the structure, similar to the B&B’s, and the sound of a tinkling fountain drifted up through the night air and mingled with the clatter of our footsteps.

“Hold on. We’ll make it.” He backed toward the metal ladder leading to the backyard.

“Ian...”

Annette was on her knees. She wrapped one bloody hand around the knife and yanked it out of her chest. The blade made an awful squelching sound as it pulled free of her flesh.

Dark blood poured from the wound. She smiled, and her mouth was red with it. She had to be dying, but she got to her feet.

She faced us across the open expanse of the courtyard six stories down and threw the knife.

I had time to scream, and then Ian was spinning, shielding me, taking the hit himself. If it had been a regular human throwing that knife, we might’ve been all right. But whatever Annette was, she wasn’t human. The knife came at Ian with the force of a bullet and shredded the primary flight muscle of his right wing. We soared off the roof and plummeted.