THE BAZAAR (The Devany Miller Series) (18 page)

Zech was holding a Big Gulp from 7/11. 

I locked my car door, still gazing at Danni in wonder. "What are you doing?"

Danni's smile faded a bit. "Oh. Well, Zech said he wanted a slushie, so I took him down to get one. We got breakfast at Burger King." She held up a bag. "It's an awful reason to be late, I know, but—"

"Hey, it's okay, no big deal.” Beside her, Zech smiled, though his skin looked stretched tight and I kicked myself for not asking Tytan about the death warrant. If it were dark magic, then maybe they'd pulled it from a Skriven, in which case Ty might know who they pulled it from.

"I'm going to go check in." Danni disappeared inside, leaving Zech and I in the parking lot alone.

"You okay?"

He nodded. Held up the slushie as if it were proof. "Thanks for sending the cab."

"Sure."

In the distance, a car alarm blared. Zech cleared his throat. "You scared the crud out of me when you shifted. I've never seen anything like that in my life."

"You think it's bad watching it, you should try doing it."

He shook his head. "No way." Inside, my coworkers surrounded Danni, chattering about her outfit, her hair, her tardiness. 

I waited until we were in the hallway that led to the apartments to ask, "She likes you."

He laughed, ducking his head. "Yeah. Well, I hated to see her jumping at shadows. Gave her some sugar."

The sugar he’d given me had given me a nightmare. I froze, remembering. That nightmare. It had been Ravana.

“You okay?”

I jerked my attention back to him. “I didn’t like it.”

He shrugged. “I remember. Most people remember something good about their past. I gave Danni a kind that helps ease bad memories. Takes the sting out, so to speak. Muffles the sharpness of them." He rubbed at his chin. "That wasn't a bad thing, was it? I try not to meddle with people. It's not right to screw with them, try to fix things you think are wrong." He rubbed at his neck. “Shit. Totally meddled.”

"You gave her a gift."

He dropped his hand, his shoulders hunched, glanced at me. Nodded. "Those stones you gave me have been a big help. Thanks."

"No sign of the baddies?"

"Not yet. At least I'll be able to defend myself. Sorry I dragged you out last night. I couldn't think what else to do. I didn't want them to hurt anyone here."

"I understand. No big." I had one mean devil on my tail now, but I didn't mention that. "I'm going to get to work. Danni will be over to bug you again. She never does that. It's amazing, the change."

"I don't mind." He disappeared into his apartment.

Back at my computer I opened up my email. I had one message from Trev and three from Ann. I opened Trev's first. He blasted Tom from one end of the earth to the other and offered to fly down and beat him up. I sent back a message telling him that beatings weren't necessary but he could fly down to see me. I sent it with a slight smile. Trevor wasn't big on emotional displays of affection. I was lucky if I saw him once a year and that lasted only a couple of days. My brother, the loner.

I read Ann's next, checking the clock before delving in. I had a client meeting in a half an hour. Plenty of time to read her emails, which detailed the minutia of her life in exquisite poetry. In one email I opened, she told me she read the tarot cards for me. I skipped reading the details. I didn't have that much time. In another, she gave me my horoscope and in the last told me she'd had a disturbing dream about me. 

I've had dreams before that have foretold the future and I've had nightmares but this was nothing like I've ever experienced. You were in it, Dev, but you weren't you. You glowed from the inside and something in the shadows pulled you apart. I heard you screaming but I couldn't help. Then—and this will sound kooky, forgive me, it's a dream—this floating head came to me and told me to tell you "Tytan seeks to destroy his maker and his maker seeks to destroy you." I don't know if it even means anything, but you know me. I can't rest if I don't pass on the messages I get from the universe.

I love you, Dev. Keep safe. I'll be praying for you. A protective circle couldn't hurt.

Ann

I sat back and stared at the blinking cursor. Why would Ann be getting messages about me? Why would Nex talk to her in a dream, unless he didn't want Tytan to know about it? And what did he mean about Tytan wanting to destroy his maker? He'd said the Skriven don't die. It'd be hard to destroy something that couldn't die.

I rubbed my forehead. I had to make a trip to Midia and see if I could find some answers to

the many hundreds of questions that threatened to kill me.

TWENTY-TWO

M
y client was a slight woman with wispy blonde hair who suspected her husband conspired to convince her family she was cuckoo. She kept her purse clutched to her chest as she spoke, whispering that he was placing cameras all over their house in order to spy on her even when he wasn't home.

The best thing about my job, aside from helping people in need, was that I didn't have to decide whether someone was telling me the truth. At the Caring Shelter, our policy was to believe our clients. We didn't grill them. We didn't care whether they were making up stories; we cared that they had a story to tell and we listened.

When I first started working here, Tom had been aghast at that. "That's a policy? That's ridiculous. Believe everything the client says? What if she's a fruitcake? What if he's lying?"

I had secretly agreed but as I continued to work with the battered women and men who found their way through our doors, I figured out the truth didn't matter. Not about the abuse. We weren't the police, judges or juries. If a woman lied about her drinking problem, we believed her but made sure she had access to resources about AA or other alcohol abuse support groups. If he had ruined teeth and picked at his skin but swore he wasn't on meth, we nodded, listened, and believed, but we also gave him information for counselors that dealt with drug problems. Funny how freeing it was to have permission to accept the client's words at face value and let others sort out the fiction from the truth.

After an hour of talking, I arranged a medical checkup for her at the Good Hope medical clinic. Danni volunteered to take her and I filled out and filed her information before meeting with another client. It ended up being a busy day, for which I was grateful. It kept my mind from wandering to unpleasant thoughts and the trip I would have to make to Midia. I had to get information—my ignorance could kill me.

At five, I signed off the computer and left the building with Louise, who chattered nonstop about Danni's amazing turn around. She was still talking when I shut my car door. She had her phone to her ear and waved as she pulled away. I stowed my purse, plugged in my cell and slid the key into the ignition.

Hands gripped me from behind.

I shrieked but my attacker cut off my airway then released my throat, leaving me terror-stricken but silent. 

A voice that sounded familiar asked, "What are you?"

I'd been getting that question a lot lately. Funny. I didn't even know who I was and it looked like I would be killed before I ever knew. 

Whoever was behind me gave me a shake. "What are you?"

"A woman." I still had my cell phone in my hands. I opened it, glad the keypad was still on silent from work. I dialed 911. "Who are you?"

"No. Don't try to lie to me. I saw what you did, I felt it. You blasted me through four rooms. Cow you may be, but you're unlike any I've ever had the pleasure to dismember."

My fingers clenched the steering wheel. The creep who'd tried his best to beat Zech to death. "I work at Caring Shelter, you know. We have counseling for abusive husbands." I hoped someone was on the other line now, listening to my unsubtle clues and translating them into help. I didn't dare think bad thoughts about him. No telling what would happen and who would show up next if I tried to deal with him magically. The police would have to do.

"I don't know what you're up to but I'm looking forward to dissecting you. Taking you apart, piece by piece, to find out what it is that makes you so different from the other sheep we steal from your world."

I knew what he was talking about and he still sounded crazy. What would the cops think? I hoped they came with guns drawn. "Please don't kill me." Lord, that sounded lame. "You are going to kill me, right?" Shit, lamer.

Fabric whispered as he shifted his hands to get a better grip on my neck. "Why aren't you afraid of me?"

"I am." I floundered, not sure how to inject the right amount of distress in my voice. Unbidden, the enshadowed woman who'd visited me the night before materialized in my imagination. Her dark skin that glowed as if the fires of hell burned beneath it. Her touch. My heart rate spiked. I gasped out, "I am. I don't want to die." 

He hooked his forearm around my neck, moved around until I decided he must be playing with himself or something but then his free hand flashed a knife in my face. "I can't kill you here. Drive to the hook."

"No." I gripped the wheel with one hand, the fingers that held my cell sweaty as all hell. "No, I won't. Kill me here if you're going to do it."

"Woman, I hold the knife. You will drive to the hook."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. Too soon to be a cop. I had to distract my captor, so I said, "Yarnell is dealing with a Skriven, isn't he?"

That got his attention, boy, but not in a good way. His arm tightened around my throat until I was gasping. "What do you know of this? How do you know it? Dealing with the Skriven is against our laws." He jerked his arm again and I gagged. "Who are you," he demanded.

As if I could answer. Then his arm slackened, his knife hand flying sideways. I flung my door open and launched myself at the ground. I saw jean-clad legs as I rolled. As I gained my feet, Zech yanked the blonde man from the car. "Lend me your magic, Devany." He grasped my hand and blue light danced across my flesh to his, then Zech wrapped my assailant's hands with it. 

The man cursed, yanking and pulling at the bonds, but whatever Zech had done, it held him tight. "How?" He held up his hands to emphasize his question. “You shouldn't be able to use magic here, damn you, half breed.”

Zech ignored him, telling me, "You need to take him to Midia. Quickly. If I gave you the location, could you," he glanced down at the man who was avidly listening. "You know."

"If I, you know, with him, then he'll know."

Zech grinned. He stooped down and put his hand on the man's forehead. In moments, the guy was out.

"What'd you do to him?"

"Sleeping spell. Simple, harmless."

I was impressed. "That's important to you, isn't it? The no harming thing."

"Of course. It's what we in the Coven of the Lotus work toward. Peace. It wouldn't be good to ask for peace but hit our enemies." He looked at me, hard, and I knew then he was talking to Arsinua, not me. She twisted with guilt inside me. 

"Shit! Cell phone. Damn." I dove back into the car and saw that I'd dialed 911 but I hadn't hit send. Chuckling sickly, I flipped my phone closed and locked up my car. "I'll do it, but it has to be quick. It's family night tonight. I can't be any later than six or there will be a mutiny."

He looked perplexed but didn't ask. Instead, he grabbed my hand and closed his eyes. I hesitated then did the same and he flooded my head with the location. He gave me his ring, a gold metal without any marks. "It'll glow when it nears the others. They will know I sent you. You can return it to me later."

I nodded, took a breath and straddled my attacker. I was tempted to kick him, but I doubted Zech would take it well. Instead, I squatted, splayed my hand on the man and pictured the hook form beneath the prone man's body. I held that and the location Zech had given me in my head. 

In moments I appeared in an airy room, lit with glowing balls at intervals along the walls. The moment I arrived, conversation both ceased and then erupted. I held up Zech's ring like a talisman. It glistened an angry purple, shooting off tiny sparks of light. 

A woman stepped from the crowd. "You have Zech's ring."

"I brought his attacker. This guy," I gave the asshole a tiny little kick then, "almost beat Zech to death. Zech is in my world because he's afraid there might be a death warrant on him."

The group buzzed with conversation again. The older man I'd spoken with the night of the ritual tipped his head in my direction.

The woman said, "Death warrants are Skriven magic and that is forbidden."

"Yeah, well, I don't think this guy cares what's forbidden."

"You speak of Yarnell?"

I nodded. "And the others who believe it's okay to traffic in people. It's disgusting. You might get some answers from him. I don't know how you want to deal with him."

"We'll take him to the Council of course," said the older gentleman and there were nods all around. "Since your help that night, the tide has turned against repealing the ban on human trafficking. We thank you for your services."

"You're welcome." Should I ask them how to destroy a Skriven? Somehow I figured they wouldn't know or tell me if they did. The Skriven were a forbidden topic, so I doubted there would be a section in their library on demon lore. "I'm going to go. Late." I pointed at my watch and even though they shot questions at me, I formed the hook and stepped through it to my car.

The parking lot was quiet. My watch said five forty. I'd have to book it to get home in time. Bethany and Liam, despite their grumblings, considered family night sacred. Lateness was not tolerated and I'd have to endure their glares and enmity if I stepped in the house after six.

With that in mind, I took the side streets home. They tended to have less traffic on Fridays and I made it home with a minute and a half to spare.

"Hallelujah," I sang to myself as I locked the car and let myself into the house.

"Hello," I called as I hung up my purse and keys. No answer. Huh. They must be huddled in the living room already, fighting over whether or not to watch a movie or play a game. Knowing Tom, he'd be rooting for Life. Why he loved that game was beyond me. It took forever to play and—

Tom lay sprawled on the floor, blood smeared along his right cheekbone from his nose. 

"Tom!" I ran over, falling to my knees beside him. I cracked my left knee on the tile and winced. "Tom. Tom?" I raised my head. "Liam? Bethany?" I felt with my senses, felt for the protection circles. Someone had destroyed them, the ragged, broken remnants of magic pricked at my skin. 

Panic welled in me. My tongue numbed, my mouth dry as I shouted my children's names and ran through the house searching. Searching. Nothing. Nowhere. Someone had taken them.

"No, no, no," I chanted, my hands shaking so badly I couldn't dial the phone. I flung it against the wall and it shattered. "Tom. Tom, damn you, wake up!" I shook him roughly until he moaned, then I slapped him on the face. "Where are the kids? Where are they? Who took them? Answer me." 

His words slurred but he managed to talk. "Four people. A woman. Three guys. Busted in. Smashed me in the face. I hit one." He held up his hand where purple and black bruises already spread across his knuckles. "I tried to stop them. There were too many. God. Liam. Bethany." He began to sob, big belly sobs that made me feel guilty for slapping him.

"I have to call the police. Hang on." I patted him then dashed for my purse by the door. I flipped open my cell and dialed. Tremors ran through me as I spoke with the emergency operator because while I relayed the information that my husband had been beaten and my kids taken I knew that the police wouldn't be able to help find them.

Someone beyond our world had taken them while I'd been occupied with the stupid asshole in the car. I sunk to the ground where I was, unable to breathe. The operator told me to be calm, that help was arriving soon, but I couldn't function anymore. I broke down right there on the floor.