Medusa's Dagger: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Aya Harris Collection Book 1) (8 page)

Johnny waved and left us to finish closing. Angel followed a few minutes later, leaving me to walk through the lobby, turning off lights and getting everything ready for opening tomorrow. All in all, the day had been pretty painless.

I’d kept busy so that I didn’t have to think about Nicky or Gideon, or the trouble they’d both brought into my life. That was the way I liked it. Quiet life and no trouble. It kept me safe. I didn’t like having to constantly look over my shoulder.

"Good night, Roni." I saluted her as I passed her glass prison cell.

Behind the painted on, sweet cherub smile, I could sense the rage boiling inside the doll’s tiny porcelain body. Angel had managed to find a few more hexes to seal her in good and tight. Hopefully, this time, they would last.

I locked the doors and felt a vibration in the bottom of my black, pleather purse. Sticking my arm in clear down to my elbow, I pulled out my old track phone. This morning, I'd thrown it in my bag as an afterthought. So far, there'd been no response from my brother.

The screen flashed a bright voicemail sign. I flipped it open and pressed it to my ear. Maybe it'd be a telemarketer calling. Or a Gallup survey. They had the uncanny ability to sniff out an unwilling customer on the other end of the line. Usually, I avoided unknown numbers.

"You have one new message." The robotic woman's voice made me cringe. I held my breath and listened intently.

"Hey, Little Bird.”

The voice made my heart stop. The only person on this entire planet that called me
Little Bird
was Nicolo, my brother. He'd begun calling me that when I was only two and he was four. In turn, I was the only one who got to call him
Nicky
.

“I’m sorry if you’ve had trouble lately,” he continued. “I didn’t want my little sister to get involved, but things have a funny way of working out.” His voice was light, but there was an edge to it, as if he was barely stifling his anger.

A car horn blared in the background. I heard Nicky inhale and let out a long sigh.

“Listen, I managed to get a flight out of Bolivia and I’m already in Arcana. I’m going to take care of this. Right some wrongs. I put my trust in the wrong people and now I’m paying the price. But, I’ll contact you again very soon. We need to talk. Bye, Little Bird.”

In a daze, I dropped the phone back into the recesses of my purse. Nicky was definitely here – in Arcana. And somehow, he knew I was in town, too. His cryptic message hadn’t claimed any responsibility for the kidnapping in my building. The bit about trusting the wrong people was even more confusing.

Nicky had always preferred to be solitary. Even though people gravitated toward him, especially women, he liked his alone time. It didn’t win him any close friends in high school, although most people would’ve said Nicky was popular. He just didn’t let people get deeper than surface level. I was the only one who got to peek behind the veil.

But I knew, deep down, that he was involved in the Yonas disappearance. I should’ve known it the moment I first had the vision. After all, the raven’s feather was his sadistic calling card.

Nicky and I didn't have the best childhood, to say the least. Before our mother mysteriously died on a mission, she’d been mostly absent with her work through the HQ – The Harpy Quorum of the Americas. They were their own form of government, suspicious of the workings of the SI, and determined to bring their own justice to the supernatural creatures of the world. Armed with psychic visions, a millennia of experience, and a network of contacts, harpy women were feared, and rightfully so. The mob of winged women didn't have much time for coddling. Justice came on swift wings.

Our human father wasn't much of a childhood figure, either. He'd spent much of that time wading through one form of alcoholic beverage or other. While he wasn't abusive, he didn't participate much. So, Nicky and I were left alone most of the time while dad went to the bar. And even though I was the younger sibling, I spent much of that time raising my older brother, trying to replace the mother and father he never had.

It wasn't until I graduated high school did I realize something was off with Nicky. His anti-social behavior had seemed like a phase at first. Like he would eventually grow out of it and become a proper man. I was blindsided the first time he came to me, complaining about the evils of the supernatural creatures in our Chicago neighborhood. It was crazy talk. I brushed it off, but every time he spoke of it, he became more agitated.

They're evil
, he'd said.
Little Bird, we've got to stop them. They're killing people
. Without proof to back up his theories, I ignored him. Shortly after that, he took his first victim. And another. And yet another. The SI couldn’t find him. The HQ couldn’t kill him. He was unstoppable.

My family history was still bogging down my mind when I finally made it home that evening. I hadn't thought about Nicky in so long. After he left home to begin his killing spree, I'd made certain to leave Illinois and go to school far away, settling in Arcana where no one knew me or my past.

But, at the back of my mind, the thought remained - Nicky would come for me someday. He'd come hunting for me and slaughter me, just like he did the rest of his victims. Either that, or the HQ would find me first, and punish me for refusing to stop my brother. Neither future was very appealing.

Gideon's wine glass still sat on the kitchen counter. Half full of the dark red liquid, it suddenly looked an awful lot like fresh blood. I poured it down the sink and rinsed out the glass, washing away the reminder of the blood on my hands.

Sure, I could turn Nicky into the SI. I could tell Gideon about him and betray my own brother. But, it wouldn't help anything. I didn't know where Nicky was keeping his victims. The less I got involved, the better. Besides, my presence might only enrage him further. Who knew what would happen to the Yonas family then?

As if on cue, a knock sounded at my apartment door. It had to be Gideon. He seemed to have a way of showing up at the least opportune times. I swung the door open, ready to stare him down, when I came face-to-face with a giant black camera lens.

A man with bulky arms was holding it in front of his face. Standing next to him was Ian Welch, horse-teeth and all. His smile almost cracked his face, he was straining so hard to keep it on.

"Ms. Harris, we'd like to ask you a few questions about the horrid crime that occurred in your building. Do you have a minute for us?" He pushed a microphone with a royal blue foam head in my face.

"No, I don't want to talk with you."

I pushed the door closed, but Ian stuck his foot between the frame and the door.

"The SI is being very secretive. We know there's more to the story. What have you heard?"

I resisted the urge to stomp on his foot. "Nothing. I know nothing more than you. That family is gone and it's horrible. Now please, get out of my apartment."

"But, sources have said you've been spotted with Agent Gideon Ward. Are you assisting him?"

The microphone swung back in my face.

"Who told you that? No, I'm not assisting him."

Ian's smile didn't crack. "Then, are you a person of interest?"

"No!"

"Are you sleeping with Agent Ward?"

This time I didn't hesitate - I drove the heel of my boot into the top of Ian's shiny Italian loafer. A partially human, but mostly demon screech ripped from his throat. I had just enough time to slam the door shut before he banged on it, demanding I let him back in.

Pressing my back to the door, I slid to the floor and waited for Ian's temper tantrum to end. It didn't take long. He was an award winning journalist, after all, and he knew a dead end when he saw one. Soon enough, he moved to the neighbors, banging on their doors for a comment.

I wasn't sure who ratted me out to Ian Welch. Gideon had walked me inside yesterday after driving me home. But he'd gone straight to the Yonas' apartment, and I'd trudged up the stairs to my own. I'm not sure how that made me look like a person of interest, or Gideon's lover.

I glanced at the clock. Round two of my blind dates was due in an hour. I could've used that time to get dolled up and make an effort, but enough was enough. Instead, I poured myself a glass of Pinot Gris and cuddled up on the couch with a copy of Anne McCaffrey's
Dragonriders of Pern
. I needed an imaginary world full of imaginary people to distract me from the mess of my own life.

By the time my date arrived, I was fully immersed in the book. When he knocked at the door, I considered pretending I wasn't home, but then abandoned the idea. That’d be cruel. It wasn’t fun being stood up, and I wasn't going to do it to someone else. We'd go out for a quick meal and that'd be it. Just some food, wine, and then a quick goodbye. If I needed to, I would fake another sprained ankle. I could handle that much.

Opening the door, I found myself staring at a gorgeous man with blonde hair and steely blue eyes. His strong jaw and chin perfectly framed the charming smile that greeted me. He handed me a small bouquet of red roses, offering his other hand to shake.

"Hi. I'm Trevor. I guess this is the awkward part of the blind date. Oh wait, the whole thing's awkward." He rolled his eyes and chuckled.

I laughed and felt a blush rise in my cheeks. For once, Angel hit the mark. This didn’t seem like one of her typical castoffs.

"Yeah, not my cup of tea, either. But my
helpful
friends have made it their life goal to set me up."

"Mine, too." He smiled again.

I could've stared at his perfectly aligned teeth all night, but I shook myself out of it and grabbed my purse. I regretted not changing out of my work clothes. Trevor was dressed in a beautifully tailored black suit, with a silver tie to match. Standing next to him in my dress pants and satin white top, I felt out of place.

As if he could read my mind, he led me to the stairway and smiled sweetly. "You look beautiful. Is it too soon to say that?"

"No, it's perfect." I returned his smile and silently thanked Angel again. He really was a perfect ten.

Trevor took us to a restaurant on the south side of town. It was a fancy place with a French menu and entrees I couldn't pronounce. I ended up letting Trevor order for me. It was worth it to hear him talk in French to the waiter.

"So, what is it that you do?" I played with one of the three forks surrounding my plate. I'd never eaten somewhere that needed three forks.

"I'm a doctor at Arcana Medical." He took a sip of his wine and grinned at me. "But before you ask, no it's not a thing like
Grey's Anatomy.
I haven't been shot at, I haven't been in a plane crash, and I've never had to do surgery on myself."

I laughed. "I guess you get that question a lot."

"You can't imagine."

We sipped from our water glasses at the same time. I could feel the heat between us already. His smile felt warm and inviting. I was beginning to forget the worries of my day, but Gideon and his investigation remained at the back of my mind, like an annoying little buzzing fly that wouldn’t go away. The only thing I could do was extinguish him by downing glasses of expensive French wine.

Our meals came, but we barely tasted them. Conversation flowed between us like water from a faucet. Yet, somehow, our wine cups kept emptying. The waiter was well worth his weight in gold - he kept the wine coming and didn't interrupt our discussion on all things hospital and museum and Arcana.

Trevor’s family was descended from werewolves. Unlike the creatures who were bitten and then turned into rabid wolves, the ones born into a pack were able to shift at will. No lunar cycle to worry about.

My pasta had long grown cold when I finally excused myself to use the restroom.

"I'll order dessert," Trevor said, opening the mini menu the waiter had slipped on the table ten minutes ago. "Let’s each get two different things. We have to try as many as we can while we’re here.”

I liked a man who didn’t skimp on dessert. “It’s a deal. Make sure to order the crème brûlée.”

My feet felt like they were floating a foot above the floor. So far, this date was unlike any date I’d been on. He said all the right things. Asked all the right questions. Didn’t talk about his ex or his mother. Had a job and liked good wine. It was a match made in Olympus.

The restroom was nearly as fancy as the rest of the restaurant. Instead of paper towels, they had real cloth towels in perfect stacks next to the ceramic basin sinks. I found myself staring dreamily in the mirror, drying my hands, when something yanked on my torso. Falling back a step, I caught myself from tumbling to the marble floor.

That was strange. Maybe I should cut back on the wine.

Before I could toss the towel aside, the room dissolved around me, fading to black. I tried not to panic. Nothing good came out of panicking. The pulsating of powerful magic enveloped me. It swirled around like a top until it dropped me on a stained linoleum floor.

I wish I could say that I landed with absolute grace like a gymnast, but instead I collapsed to the floor like a newborn colt. My stomach had turned to jelly and was jiggling around in my gut, threatening to evacuate the few bites of pasta I’d managed to swallow. I closed my eyes until the room ceased its spinning, and then opened them a crack.

I’d been dumped in an apartment much like my own. To my left was the galley kitchen with a picture window. To my right, a similar living room. And sitting on a folding chair smack dab in the middle of that living room… was Gideon.

In his hands, he fingered an item that looked like a dried gourd on a stick. It had feathers and beads attached to it. I instantly recognized the object. We had a similar one in the museum. It was an old voodoo shaker that allowed the owner to transport objects and people at will, but only if you knew exactly where they were. It was a rare find – the one we owned had lost its magical qualities and was now basically a glorified maraca. Gideon must’ve had me followed, or tracked the GPS on my phone. There was no other way he could’ve used that magic to bring me here.