It Happened One Doomsday (2 page)

“Some kind of gas they put off. Nasty, slimy little beasties. But when they all jumped on me, and I punched one, super hard, it made sparks. And these guys lit up like the Hindenburg.”

“That must've been . . . disturbing.”

“Almost burned my face off.
Not
cool.” Rane said it in a way that indicated she clearly blamed Dru. “So I need something a little less sparky and a lot more kick-ass.”

“You're putting out a lot of magical energy when you transform. Probably too much for just one little ring. Out of all those rings we tried, this is the only one that really seemed attuned to you,” Dru said.

“You mean the only one that didn't blow up in my face?”

And it was the only one that Rane had actually paid for. An important line item in Dru's bookkeeping universe. She folded her hands in front of her and forced a smile. “I'm thinking maybe rings just aren't your style. How about a nice amulet instead?”

Rane let out a long sigh. She stared deep into Dru's eyes, as if to let her know what a vast disappointment she was. In her flat monotone, Rane said, “It's like this. You know my transformation power
only
works if I'm actually touching something. If I want to turn into rock, I have to be touching rock. If I want to turn into metal, I have to be touching metal.”

“Yes, I know, so—”

“
So
if I get grabbed up by some gi-
normous
creature and I'm hanging upside down by my ankle and this
amulet
is dangling over my head and it's not touching my skin? I'm totally hosed.” She stared harder. “Get it?”

Dru nodded. “All right. I get it.”

“Don't hose me, Dru.”

Dru solemnly shook her head. “I would never hose you.”

“Good.” Rane clenched her right fist, the one wearing the flint ring. With a faint stone-grinding sound, patches of her skin took on the mottling of the polished stone ring, growing and merging until Rane's body had transformed into solid rock.

“You know, one of these days, someone is going to see you do that in public,” Dru said. “You really want to end up on YouTube?”

“Already on there. No one cares. Help me out, Dru,” Rane said, her voice coarse and hollow, as if it echoed up from a deep cave. “Seriously. I don't know who else to go to. You're my best friend.”

Two incompatible thoughts competed for Dru's attention. One, that no one had called her a best friend since grade school. And two, if this was what it was like to be Rane's friend, what was it like to be her enemy?

Still, Dru couldn't help but feel just the tiniest bit warm and fuzzy inside. Even if Rane was more than a little scary as a living statue, and probably Dru's only paying customer today.

“Okay.” Dru smiled. “Let's get you back into the storage room and see what we can find.”

Rane turned human again with that stone-grinding sound and shot Dru a bright smile. “Thanks, D.” She punched Dru in the shoulder and headed into the back room.

Dru was still rubbing her shoulder when the bell jingled up front. The solidly built guy in the motorcycle jacket pushed his way inside and took off his sunglasses. He had a swagger that some women might find cute. Or so she assumed.

But here in this shop, he looked completely out of place.

“Hi,” she said when he got close enough. “Did you just change Opal's tire?”

He nodded dismissively, as if it were nothing. Puzzled, he frowned around him at the tall shelves crammed with minerals and crystals, charms, statues, candles, rare herbs, and everything else her supernatural-oriented customers wanted.

“Um, what kind of car is that?” Dru asked, not out of any particular interest, but just to avoid having to explain her shop to someone who was so clearly not a customer.

“A 1969 Dodge Daytona,” he said. When she didn't reply right away, he seemed to mistake her silence for encouragement. “It's basically an aerodynamic, Hemi-powered Charger. When it was built, it was so fast NASCAR outlawed it. I restore old cars, especially Mopars. That's what I do.”

“Hmm.” She nodded, trying to look fascinated.

“Sign outside says ‘The Crystal Connection.'” He looked around again. “What's with all the other stuff?”

Inwardly, Dru sighed. Anytime someone had to ask, the conversation never went well. “It's a shop for people who know magic.”

“Card tricks, coins behind your ear, that sort of thing?”

“Not exactly, no.” This was the part that always got awkward with people who wandered in off the street. “Mostly, this is a very specialized store. We help people who have unusual problems that can't be solved any other way.”

Much to her surprise, he turned and looked directly into her eyes with a warm intensity. “Then maybe you can help me. I'm Greyson, by the way.”

“Oh. Um, Dru.” Trying to mentally reclassify him as a customer caught her off guard. “So, okay. Absolutely. What seems to be bothering you?” She pulled out her notepad and reached for a pen, but she accidentally knocked it across the counter.

Greyson caught it at the same time she reached for it, and when her fingers brushed his, a spark flashed between them, like static electricity, only brighter and shockingly cold.

The jolt of energy made the fluorescent lights above them sizzle and flare. Then a pop echoed from the breaker box in the back room, and all the lights went out, plunging them into deep shadow.

The only light came from Greyson's eyes, which glowed like red-hot coals as he gazed down at her. “I guess you could say I have an unusual problem.”

2

THEN THERE WAS GREYSON

Dru had cured plenty of mystical ailments at The Crystal Connection, but she usually had at least some warning. A little time to prepare, research the right crystals, brew up a potion, braid a healing circle out of copper wire, that sort of thing. It wasn't often that a customer strutted in through the front door, shorted out the lights, and made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

Never, in fact.

In the spirit of being prepared, Dru kept a flashlight under the cash register. But in the case of magical sparks and red glowing eyes, she needed something stronger. She reached for a crystal.

Her own magical power lay in the ability to enhance the inherent spiritual properties of crystals. Make them more potent than they were in nature. Powerful enough to fight the forces of darkness.

So her first instinct was to reach under the counter for a finger-length crystal of purple amethyst, which helped protect against any kind of psychic attack. But in the sudden electrical outage, she couldn't find the amethyst. Or her smooth, egg-sized whorl of iridescent tiger's-eye, which warded off curses.

Her fingers closed on a dagger-shaped wedge of spectrolite. In full daylight, it would have shimmered like oil on the surface of deep water, but in the gloom of the shop, she could only go by feel. At any rate, it was a good, basic, soul-protecting crystal, and it had saved her life before.

When she picked it up, a startling tingle ran through her fingers, as if the energy that had sparked from Greyson's touch now traveled into the crystal in her hand. The spectrolite glowed faintly from within, releasing a breathtaking rainbow of lights. The pool of multicolored light illuminated Greyson's rugged face and the entire front counter area.

She'd never seen a crystal do
that
before.

As she backed away from the counter, she held the glowing crystal out at arm's length, wondering if it would burn her. But as she got farther away from Greyson, the light faded and went out. And so did the red glow in his eyes.

Before Dru could make anything of that, a snap sounded from the breaker box in the back room, and the lights flickered to life overhead.

“I got it,” Opal yelled from the back room. “Power's back on.”

“Thank you,” Dru called over her shoulder, and then she turned a wary eye on Greyson.

His eyes were now a piercing blue, with shadows under them that spoke of sleepless nights.

“So,” Dru said. “This sort of thing happen to you a lot?”

“What, the power going out?” He shook his head. “Not really.”

“No. I mean the glowy-eyes thing.”

He seemed puzzled. “The what?”

Dru peered over the top of her glasses at him. “Maybe we should start at the beginning. What seems to be troubling you, sir?”

He dropped his gaze, and his broad shoulders hunched. It took him a long time to finally answer. “I keep having these . . . strange dreams.”

Dru felt one of her eyebrows go up on its own. “What sort of dreams are we talking about, exactly?”

He let out a slow breath, then looked around to make sure they were alone. It took him a couple of tries to start talking. “It's always the same. In my dream, I'm turning into some kind of . . . monster. With horns. Claws. Fangs . . . You know what, never mind. This sounds crazy.” Abruptly, he shook himself and started to back away, hands up. “Forget I said anything.” He turned to go.

“Greyson. Wait.” She started to come around the counter, but stopped when he did. “Give me five minutes. Tell me just a little more. Maybe I can make it stop.”

He hesitated, then looked over his shoulder at her, eyes narrowed. She had the feeling he didn't often show weakness to anyone, much less a complete stranger.

But it sounded to her like he might have a real problem. If there was some kind of monster after him—or
in
him—she had to do everything she could to help. Now, before anything got worse.

“Just five minutes,” she said again. “Then you can walk out of here, and it'll be like we never met.”

Greyson seemed to weigh that carefully, then nodded once and came back to the counter. She waited for him to go on.

He glanced up at the lights, as if he expected them to go out again.

“Don't worry, it might be nothing,” she said. “The electrical system in this place is a little iffy. Mostly because the copper wires run around through the walls and the ceiling in a way that makes a protective circle.” She drew an imaginary circle in the air with her finger.

His gaze went across the ceiling, then returned to her. “Wouldn't that be a protective
rectangle
?”

She wasn't amused. “Forget about the lights for a minute. Tell me about the dream.”

Absently, he scratched the stubble on his chin. “That's pretty much it. In my dream, I become a monster, and I'm standing side by side with three other monsters.”

“Do they all look like you? Horns, claws, et cetera?”

“No. They all look different. We're just standing shoulder to shoulder, lightning crashing down around us. The sky is on fire. And I'm so
angry
.” He looked down at his empty hands, and then his haunted gaze met hers. “In my dream, I'm so full of . . . 
rage
. I just want to tear everything down. Everywhere I go, everything I touch is just destroyed.”

“Destroyed, how?”

“Turned to dust. Everything. Everywhere. Laid to waste, by my hands. Until there's nothing left anywhere but scorched ashes. Doomsday. The end of the world.” The anguish in his voice filled the air between them like a palpable thing. Though he looked cool and collected on the outside, she could see the vulnerability in his eyes. “And then I wake up.”

A sinking feeling settled inside Dru. She wanted, so badly, to help him. But she'd have to convince him first.

She cleared her throat. “When did this first start happening?”

“A few months ago. Look, I know this must sound pretty weird.”

She smiled a little. “Believe me when I tell you that around here, this isn't even in the ballpark of weird.”

A slight nod on his part indicated that he accepted that.

From the back room, a distant pop echoed. Apparently, Rane had started trying on new rings.

Greyson seemed concerned, but Dru dismissed it with a wave. “You notice anything odd at home lately?”

“Odd?”

“Strange noises outside your window? Things misplaced? Night sweats?”

He shook his head. “No.”

She leaned on the counter. “Hissing cats? Whispering voices? Crowds staring at you for no reason?”

“No . . .”

“A craving for raw meat? Aversion to crosses? Messages written in blood?”

“Would've noticed that. No.”

“Hmm.” Dru ran through a list of possibilities in her head. “Do you have any enemies? Is there anyone who wants you dead?”

“Not really.”

“Not
really
?” She peered over the top of her glasses again. “Care to elaborate?”

He gave her an unreadable look. “No.”

After drumming her fingers on the counter for a moment, she decided to let that go for now. “Cursed family history? Any ancestors who swore to get their revenge from beyond the grave?”

He cocked his head to the side. “I thought maybe you'd give me some kind of homeopathic incense or something.”

“First, I have to figure out what's bothering you,” she said. “Is there anything else you can think of, anything at all, that happened before all of this started? It could be something as subtle as a chalk mark on your door. Or somebody whispering Latin in your ear.”

He gave her a long, silent look. “You're really serious about this supernatural thing.”

While Dru struggled to respond with an inoffensive answer, Opal came up to the front counter, heels clacking. “Um, Dru?” She pointed meaningfully toward the storage room.

Another distant pop echoed through the store. And another. They kept coming, faster now.

Dru gave her best customer-service smile to Greyson. “Bear with me one moment.”

She darted back to the storage room. Just as she opened the door, a flash lit the room, and the ring on Rane's finger exploded into skittering fragments.