Immortal Coil (9 page)

And you’ll say what I say?

She nodded without thinking then ran her hands over her head to hide the action. Everyone on the bus must have thought she was crazy. Talking to
herself
and nodding. She probably was.

She could feel his thoughts churning, but couldn’t get a sense of what he was thinking.

Deal.
Get off at the next stop.

She pulled the cord and shuffled to the door.

Remember, you need to do what I say, even if things get...

Weird?
she
said, filling in the blank for him. She wasn’t sure what could get
more weird
than what had already happened, but she supposed she’d find out soon enough.

I suppose so,
he said.

Stop that.
The bus shuddered to a halt and she got off.

Antique shop, red house on the left.

The house couldn’t be missed. It sat in silent defiance to the modernization of the neighborhood. A stately Victorian with single gable, turret, and yawning front porch, it was crowded on one side by a three-story, concrete and glass office building. On its other side lay a parking lot with two scraggly trees marking the entrance.

A neon red-and-blue “open” sign shone in the house’s large front window, the colored light reflecting on the icicles hanging from the porch’s awning. The snow had been cleared off the path leading to the porch steps, and
Anaea’s
boots crunched on ice, sand, and salt. She reached for the brass doorknob, noting a small sign in beautiful black calligraphy: “Please push. This door sticks.”

She could feel Hunter’s hesitation, as if he held his breath. No, it was more thoughtful than fearful. He was coming to a decision.

It’ll be easier to communicate if you’re... if we’re not so closed off.

The idea of opening up to him held mixed appeal. On the one hand she was dying to know more about Hunter and his race of spirits. On the other, the idea that a race of spirits existed made her question everything she knew about the world and she feared knowing the truth would drive her crazy.

She entered the shop—the door indeed required a shove—and stepped into a dark, dusty, crowded house. She’d never hidden from the truth before. With three months before her death it was probably pointless to start now.
Okay.

A sudden wave of masculine presence filled her. She clutched the empty coat rack just inside the door to keep her balance. Flashes of thoughts, feelings, memories that she couldn’t quite bring into focus, raced through her, then he pulled back and the sense of him lessened, as if he’d hit a dimmer switch.

Sorry. I’ve never done this before.

She could sense his sincerity, and was reminded he was stuck in this predicament, too.
Let’s just get this over with. Who are we here to see?

Try the back.

On any other day, she might have paused to look at all the treasures. And there were a lot of treasures. They weren’t arranged in any sort of artful display, but instead were crowded this way and that on shelves and clustered on the floor in what were once a stately living room and dining room. She continued to the back of the house and found a curvy blond in a green pantsuit, lounging in a chair that might or might not have been merchandise.
Anaea
couldn’t tell. The room had once been a kitchen and was packed with strange metal, wooden, and ceramic gadgets and furniture that she could only assume were related to a kitchen.

The woman’s brown eyes narrowed while Hunter squirmed in
Anaea’s
head. She had the sense that she—no, he—knew this woman in a very, very friendly way. It was difficult to tell her memories from his, even with Hunter at this ‘dimmer’ setting. He knew the woman from a long time ago. Preferred her hair long, not the bob it was in now. And her eyes were the wrong color.
Whatever that meant.

The image of her with some complicated hairdo piled on top of her head and a corset that barely maintained her modesty popped into
Anaea’s
mind.

Heat raced up her neck and she turned away to hide her blush.

Don’t break eye contact.

What?

Just don’t.

His fierce tone shot her gaze straight into the woman’s.

The woman’s lips curled with a hint of a sneer.

Hunter was right. If she were him, she wouldn’t have looked away at the thought of some woman’s breasts. She wouldn’t have blushed either, but she had less control over that.

“I see a familiar aura but not a familiar body.” The woman burst into laughter. “Oh, this is rich. The mighty Hunter reduced to a woman.”

Anaea
bristled.

“Just open the gate,” she heard herself say.

“Heavens, no.
I want to laugh at you a little more. There’s no way you’d have willingly given up your Crusader. You were more in love with him than me.”

“Jade—”

Do you mind?
Anaea
said.
You’re not allowed to have a conversation without me.
She wasn’t sure what most of the conversation was about, but couldn’t stand that somehow he had appropriated her body again.

Sorry, it just happened.

She couldn’t tell if he felt contrite or not.

“You know I have to announce your entrance into Court.”

He had expected no less, but
Anaea
heard herself protest anyway.
“Only if you choose to.
You could just let me slip in.”

Would you stop
that.
Nope, definitely not contrite about taking over.

Jade stood, sauntered to
Anaea
, and leaned close, brushing her lips against
Anaea’s
. Hunter shivered with disgust as
Anaea
did, and they both pulled back.

“I suppose I could let you... slip in.” Jade curled her top lip back revealing her teeth and
Anaea
got the impression it was supposed to be a come-on.
“As best as you can, all things considered.”

Jade slid a heated gaze down
Anaea’s
body and her face burned. This time she did nothing to hide it.

“I’ll grow my hair out for you.” Jade’s hair lengthened, like stop-motion photography on fast forward. It spilled over her shoulders in long golden locks.

Holy shit!

“If I recall, you preferred a curl.” Her hair bounced into gentle ringlets. “And green eyes.” Green light flashed over her eyes. When the light dimmed, they were a breathtaking emerald.

What was that?

Jade playing games.

In the back of her mind,
Anaea
felt Hunter’s disgust that Jade would use what little sorcerer ability she had to change her appearance. It was such a waste of energy. She was about to ask what that meant when she realized he was considering Jade’s sexual invitation. Not in terms of attraction but in terms of what best suited his needs.

Absolutely not!
She shoved Hunter to the back of her mind. “Announce me or don’t. Open the gate,” she said while Hunter fought against her.

Jade pouted, her full bottom lip drawing memories of lingering kisses from a long time ago.
Anaea
ground her teeth. There was no way she was going to have sex with some strange woman who thought Hunter inhabited her body just to have some stupid door opened.

God,
Anaea
. Couldn’t you have played along? We could have made a date for after this situation is fixed.

She hadn’t thought of that, and a small part of her still didn’t like the idea of Hunter sleeping with that woman even in a different vessel.

“Be that way.” Jade’s pout dropped away and she walked to a slatted-wood door marked “Employees
Only
.” It opened into a narrow pantry crammed with china and knick-knacks. At the back, a rickety set of stairs led into a cavernous basement—not the low-ceilinged dugout
Anaea
had expected.

It was the most space she’d seen in the house. The walls and ceiling were plain concrete. Half a dozen doors lead to other rooms to
Anaea’s
left, right, and behind her, but the wall in front of her was unbroken.

With one last heated glance, Jade sauntered to the wall before them, her hips swaying with exaggerated movements. She placed her palm on it and closed her eyes.

So, about the hair thing?

It’s
comp—

Don’t you dare say it’s
complicated.
I’ve already figured that out.

The air around Jade quivered, like heat radiating from asphalt in summer.
Anaea’s
skin tingled.

Hunter sighed.
And it’s about to get more complicated.

Jade chanted, her voice hushed.
She wasn’t speaking English. Perhaps it was that strange language
Anaea
had spoken earlier when
Pearl
died.

Jade never learned Sumerian. She spent most of her time in
China
,
Hunter said, as if Jade not learning Sumerian lessened her somehow.

Mandarin or Cantonese, maybe.
Anaea’s
Mandarin and Cantonese weren’t great and Jade was using strange phrasing, but now that
Anaea
knew what to listen for she could make out a bit of what she was saying.

How did—?

Linguist, remember.

Light flashed across the wall and the air around them shook.

What is she doing?

Making a gate to our inter-dimensional sphere.

A speck of black pierced the center of the concrete.

You know you sound like a bad
Star Trek
episode.

Hunter snorted.
Think more like
Lord of the Rings
. Jade has the ability to channel the energy of the universe to create a gate between your dimension and ours.

Dimensions?
Energy of the universe?

In the old days it was called magic.

What do you call it now?

Magic.

Spirits, magic, other dimensions.
Yep, she was losing her mind, but all of her senses told her the black void growing with every second was real. The darkness devoured the light and the wall until it reached the corners.
Anaea
couldn’t see anything beyond. It was a big, gaping nothing.

Any more magic you need to tell me about?

Not at the moment. Now, remember to do what I tell you.

She felt the urge to step toward the black nothingness and Hunter’s intention that they walk through it.

You want me to go in there?

Where else would we go?

She bit back her rising panic. There was no way she was going to walk into that thing.

It’s the only way to get me out of your head.

Crap.
In for a penny, in for a pound, right?
Besides, what did she have to lose?
Her life?
Hunter, more like it.
And irrationally, she wasn’t sure she wanted to lose him. But then he’d die with her when the cancer had run its course and he didn’t deserve that. She hadn’t managed to save him, or rather his body, in the river, but she could save him now.

She gulped in air and stepped into the black nothing.

The world twisted and spun.
Anaea
was weightless. The void pressed against her senses, plugging her ears and pouring down her throat. She gasped, struggling for air.

Then her foot hit something solid. Her leg buckled and she fell. Hard, cold stone met her knees and hands.

Hunter shivered in her mind.
God, I hate that.

Gee, I can’t imagine why.
She glanced up. They were in a large empty chamber, with open archways on either side. Rough-hewn granite walls, floor, and ceiling surrounded them. There were no windows and no obvious light sources even though the room was as bright as where they’d just left. There also wasn’t a door or a black hole or anything else behind her.

Welcome to Court.

What?

Our inter-dimensional sphere.

Footsteps rushed down the hall to her right and she scrambled to her feet.

Brace
yourself
,
Hunter said, as a large man hurtled toward them. His name popped into her head: Grey. His name was Grey, and Hunter didn’t recall him being so large before. He looked like a Viking, all towering muscle with long, wild, blond hair. It struck her as odd that he was dressed in a modern suit.