The Nymph's Curse: The Collection (66 page)

“Is there something you are in need of?” His gaze flickered to Starling and back to her. “I may be able to send someone out … for
anything
you may need.”

Of course he must have thought they were looking to score drugs — Vegas through and through.

“Never mind. We just need our truck.” She pulled the parking stub and a twenty from her purse and handed them to the man. The man smiled, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was used to getting a larger tip.

The man snapped his fingers and waved at a white-jacketed man who waited by the door, his hands behind his back in the long practiced position of those in servitude. The man in the white jacket hurried over. “Yes, sir. How may I help you?”

Without a word, the concierge handed the ticket to the man and pointed toward the door. The man scurried off.

While they waited, Harper tapped away on her smart phone until she found the driving directions and a photograph of the building. The labs were in a single-story building and, from the bird’s-eye view, she could just make out a pretty little courtyard filled with trees at the building’s center.

A crowd of tourists burst through the doors, black luggage in hand and enthusiastic smiles on their faces. Without watching where she was going as she headed toward the doors, Harper took one more look at her phone and stuffed it into her purse. Her shoulder connected with someone. She looked up and into the sneering face of a buttermilk-white tourist. “Watch where you’re going,” the woman growled.

Harper tried to resist the urge to say something, but Starling lunged forward. “You could have stepped out of the way, lady.”

“Starling, no.” Harper tried to warn her off. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching.”

“Damn right you’re sorry. You’re one dumb bitch. I mean just look at you.” The tourist pointed at Starling. The woman’s red lipstick cracked on her lips as she gave the teen a dangerous smile. “What in the hell do you think you are doing here, girl? Doesn’t your mother know better than to bring a
child
into a casino?”

Harper bristled, but there was no sense in fighting with the milky tourist.

“I’m not a child.” Starling fumed.

“Starling, let’s go.” Harper pointed through the doors, toward their waiting truck. “This isn’t worth the fight. We have more important things to worry about … please.”

Starling glanced over at her and some of the anger seemed to escape her eyes. The shrill woman’s laughter followed them as they walked away.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Starling asked.

The valet walked over to them and handed Harper the keys to Chance’s pickup truck. The array of keys weighed heavy in Harper’s hand as she gave the valet the almost required tip. “Starling, there are some things that are worth fighting for and there are times when you are only wasting your breath. That woman didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what she said or did, it is in the past and there is no changing it with a fight.”

“You don’t think you should have stood up for us — for me?”

“When it matters, I’ll stand up for you. I’ll protect you, just like Chance will.” Pain radiated through her hand as she gripped the keys tighter.

“She called me a child.”

The valet opened Starling’s door and motioned for her to enter. Starling stared at Harper as she stepped up into the passenger seat and then pulled the composition book from her bag.

“You’re not a child, but there are so many things you are going to learn. One of those things is learning when to stand up and fight and when to walk away.”

The valet closed Starling’s door and Harper followed him around to her side. “Thank you,” Harper said with a smile as the man opened her door and she stepped up and into the driver’s seat.

The truck’s engine roared to life. Had she been wrong in not standing up for Starling? Should she have gone farther in the confrontation with the woman? Maybe. She replayed the woman’s words in her mind and she tried to imagine how it would have gone if she hadn’t made them leave — each time she imagined the argument, it ended badly — so there had been no other choice.

Shifting gears, Harper pushed the truck into first and drove out of the long driveway and onto the back roads, which led out of the hotel — and farther from Chance.

There were so many other things to be concerned with — Chance and Kodie were up in the penthouse with a man Harper wasn’t sure they could trust, there was still a death that had left them all with questions, and Starling needed her medication. They had more important battles coming. And the only thing she could control right now, the only battle they could fight and have any chance of winning, was finding Dr. McDougal and getting more of Starling’s medication.

Even this battle wasn’t one they were likely to win, but this was one that was worth the fight. Harper hated the thought of telling Starling the ugly truth — that the chances were low she would be able to help Starling. If Dr. McDougal hadn’t wanted to talk to Starling, there was only a thin chance he would allow a rival lab rat to enter his sanctum in search of information and more drugs.

Harper’s phone chirped from her purse. Somewhat relieved to have some type of escape from Starling’s festering silence, Harper pulled the phone from her purse and pressed it to her ear. “Hello?” She pulled the truck to a stop at a red light.

“Hi.” She was met with a familiar voice. “Is this Harper Cygnini?”

“Yes, it is. How can I … ” She stopped herself. The robotic hotel staff’s words refused to leave her lips. “Yes?”

“This is Ariadne Papadakis. From Crete?”

What was the leader of the sisterhood of Epione doing calling her? Her body tensed.

“Yes. Hi, Ms. Papadakis. How are you?”

“You can call me Ariadne — we’re sisters. And I’m … okay.” There was a long pause. “Actually. I’m calling with a bit of a problem.”

“A problem? What kind of problem?”

Ariadne cleared her throat. “Well … After your sister’s death and the recent increase of nymph deaths we, the sisterhood was forced to launch an investigation. We believe there are more to the deaths than a simple rancher in Montana wanting to hybrid his rodeo stock. There’s something else going on we have yet to completely understand. So, in an effort to find out the truth, we have had a man, Jasper Gray, watching you and your friends.”

A man had been watching them? A man sent by the sisterhood? Chills rippled down her spine. Why hadn’t she thought of this? Of course the sisterhood would want to learn more about the nymph deaths — especially after Carey had been killed and there were no suspects in custody.

Harper glanced over at the young woman. Starling mumbled something and her pen moved in the strange rhythmic motions that came with one of her automatic writing sessions. The familiar word
Red
started to fill the white paper.

The phone line was quiet. “Harper?” Ariadne finally asked. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here.” The light turned green and Harper drove with the traffic. “Since you are watching us, you know who I’m with and what we’re doing, yes?”

“Yes, we know you are in Vegas. Jasper’s staying in the Bellagio, keeping an eye on you and your comrades.”

“Is he following us now?” Harper peered into her rear view mirror, but was met with a countless number of cars.

“It’s hard to say. He might be. We assigned him to watch out for you and your safety.”

“Do you think we’re in danger?”

There was a momentary pause. “We’re going to take all the precautions we can. We would hate to lose any more of our kind. We’ve lost so many wonderful women of late. If we continue losing nymphs at this rate — we may well not come back. You know our birth rates — Starling is the first nymph born in the last century and she may well be the last.”

Between the curse of their kind and the impossibility of getting pregnant without entering the blessed river, Ariadne was right. They had to be concerned. There weren’t many of their species left.

“Who do you think is behind Carey’s death?”

“At this point we aren’t sure, but we have a lead … That’s why I’m calling.”

“What do you mean?” Harper asked. “You don’t think I had something to do with it do you?”

“No, but we have reason to believe that these deaths are all connected — including your sister’s and Carey’s.”

“But they found Jenna’s killers. They’re in jail in Montana, remember?”

“Yes, her killers are. But we think this all has to do with fertility — Carey was the only nymph who’d given birth since the late 1800s when Trina, one of the Cretan nymphs, was born.”

“Why would someone want to kill Carey for being fertile?” Harper tried to understand, but none of this made any sense.

“We’re not sure why they would have wanted to kill her, but we think there are others who are trying to understand Carey’s pregnancy and her ability to have a child … other supernatural beings like us … like the nymphs.”

“Do you think they are going to come after Chance?” Harper made her way over to the side of the road and pulled to a stop.

Starling jerked to attention. “What’s going on, Harper?”

Harper lifted her finger, gesturing for the girl to wait.

“We think they may be targeting him too, but he has luck on his side. There are only a few who are privy to who and what the father of the child is.”

“That’s good … ” There was a slight sense of relief — at least Chance was safe — for now. “What about Starling?”

The teen stared at her. Her pen was still to the paper, but she had stopped writing.

“Is Starling safe?”

“Well … ” Ariadne paused. “I don’t think so. After you all left last night, your sister’s house was broken into. Our man was following you and wasn’t there when it happened. We only found out this morning.”

“What? Who would want to break into the house?”

“We think they were looking for something,” Ariadne answered. “Do you have any idea what they would have been looking for?”

The drugs
… Harper didn’t know whether to admit to the find or not. “Do you know who might be behind the break in?” Harper changed the subject.

“We aren’t sure yet, but your neighbors reported seeing a small brunette woman at your house in the early morning hours. Do you know what she would have been looking for?”

“We found drugs in the house.” Harper gripped the steering wheel tight. “We dumped most of them.”

“You did what?” Starling dropped her composition book on the floorboard of the truck. “But … I need those … ”

Harper covered her phone. “I know, sweetheart. We dumped them before we knew.”

Starling gave her a sideways glance as if she couldn’t believe her.

“What kind of drugs were they? Do you know?” Ariadne continued, unaware of the look of disgust and anguish on Starling’s face.

Harper reached over and took Starling’s hand and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze. “They’re an anti-psychotic that failed clinical testing.”

“Is that all the drug is used for?”

Starling shook her head, as if telling her not to expose her ability to a stranger. Harper paused. Telling Ariadne that Starling needed help to control the spirits was not her secret to tell. “I’m not really sure.”

“Did you find the drugs anywhere else besides your sister’s house?”

“Carey had some.”

“I see,” Ariadne said, her voice pensive. “Because of the events that have transpired recently, I need you to stop the drugs from getting into anyone else’s hands.”

“I will,” Harper answered.

“And please find out as much as you can about the drug. I have a feeling that there is more to this drug, something that would make supernaturals desperate enough to kill to get their hands on it. ”

“We’ll get everything we can from Shaw Laboratories.”

“Great. And please make sure to stay safe. I can’t guarantee whoever it was that was in your home won’t slip by Jasper. And we don’t want any more nymphs getting hurt.”

The khaki-colored doors in front of Harper and Starling acted as a barrier to the world — on one side were questions and the other side answers. Harper could almost feel the potential behind them, if only they could get entrance into the laboratory. She pressed the doorbell attached to the little black speaker, which led to some unknown receptionist in some unknown room behind the pale, unwelcoming doors.

“Shaw Laboratories, may I see your ID?” The woman’s voice, distorted by static and grainy interference, echoed out into the concrete entrance.

Above them was a black camera with a red dot. They were watching. Digging through her purse, she pulled out her ID and lifted it toward the camera, so the unknown woman could judge her worthy of admittance. Starling followed suit.

“Harper Cygnine … Cygnini,” the woman behind the microphone stumbled over her name. “May I ask why you have come to see us today?”

Harper paused for a moment. Should she go under the veil of her title or should she play the card of innocent intent — acting as if she only wished to meet Dr. Eliot McDougal? There would be no way they would open the doors to a rival, but they also wouldn’t let just anyone in off the street.

“I was hoping to talk to Dr. Eliot McDougal. Is there any way I could come in and speak to him, concerning his work?”

There was a long pause behind the microphone. “What exactly are you wishing to speak to him about?”

“I’m a pharmacologist from Merckson and I have a great deal of admiration for his work with his new compounds. I’m looking for a new job and I thought perhaps he would be willing to see me concerning a lab position.”

There was another long pause as Harper assumed the woman talked to Dr. McDougal. “I’m sorry. Dr. McDougal is not taking visitors.”

Shit.

Harper turned and followed Starling into the parking lot. What were they going to do? She chastised herself for not having a better plan — of course a rival company wasn’t going to allow two strangers in from off the street. They would have to come up with another way to get what they needed.

“It’ll be okay, Starling.” Harper stared up at the flat face of the building as she opened the truck’s door. “We just need to get in and ask a few questions. He won’t say no if we are talking to him face-to-face.”