Bloodstone (32 page)

 

 

MY HEAD SPUN WITH QUESTIONS, BUT I COULDN’T TROUBLE Mab with them now. She was sleeping; a quiet snoring buzzed from my bedroom. Sitting on the living-room sofa, I listened, cherishing those snores. Each one meant another breath.

I checked the splint I’d put on my wrist. My kind heals quickly—the pain had already diminished—but it takes time for bones to knit back together. Keeping the wrist immobile would make sure they healed properly. Right now, though, I had more to worry about than a broken wrist.

Mab said she’d imprisoned Myrddin fifteen centuries ago. Was she telling me she was—or had been—Nimuë? According to legend, Nimuë had seduced Merlin and imprisoned him in a hawthorn tree. No, a yew tree, Mab had corrected. I guess she’d know. She also said she’d had many lifetimes. That was how she knew so much about Myrddin—she’d battled him before and won. No wonder Myrddin was obsessed with revenge.

He wouldn’t succeed. I’d promised my aunt I’d get the bloodstone back. And I would, somehow.

In forty-eight hours, the Reaper would claim another victim. The final point of the eihwaz rune was on the edge of Boston Common, near the Boylston Street T station. Myrddin would be there with his lidded jar. I couldn’t be sure he’d have the bloodstone with him—but I could be damn sure he’d expect me. He wanted my life force for Pryce.

It would be better if I could ambush him where he
wasn’t
expecting me: at the safe house. Myrddin must be there now, waiting until he could complete his ritual. It was probably where the Old Ones had taken Juliet, as well. But I didn’t have the slightest idea where the safe house might be. All Juliet could tell us was that it was in the basement of a brick town house—and Boston was full of those.

Kane settled on the cushion beside me, resting his head on my thigh. Gray eyes, a man’s eyes, regarded me from his wolf’s face. “How can we find the safe house, Kane?”

His head lifted, ears alert, and he jumped from the sofa and ran to the front door. He turned and looked back at me expectantly. When I didn’t move, he let out a frustrated yip.

“I can’t take you with me.” Even with Roxana’s charm to disguise him, it felt too risky to have Kane running around Boston in his wolf form. “I need you to stay with Mab.”

Kane barked again, more aggressively this time.

“Stop it. We promised Clyde that no one would know you’re here.” Besides, I wasn’t going to argue with a wolf.

Kane came back over, caught my sleeve in his teeth, and pulled. When I shook him off, he nipped my skin.

“Ow!” I rubbed the spot. No broken skin, but it stung. I glared at him.

Seeing he had my attention, he put his nose to the floor and ran around in circles, sniffing exaggeratedly. Okay, so in wolf form he was an expert tracker. But Myrddin had left the scene through the demon plane, and Kane couldn’t track his scent there. I told him so, and he yipped again.

He had a point. The Old Ones who’d grabbed Juliet were vampires, not demons. They couldn’t travel through the demon plane. And they had a very distinctive scent. Kane could track them, find out where they went. Even better, I could let him get Juliet’s scent from an item of her clothing and he could track her specifically.

“But what about Mab?” I didn’t think Myrddin would try to attack her here. He didn’t need to when he had the bloodstone. But I couldn’t leave her on her own, weak and ill as she was.

The phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. I snatched it up before the noise could wake Mab.

“Hello?”

It was Clyde. “Tina would like to pay you a visit?” There was a reason he phrased the statement as a question. Tina never, ever paused to let Clyde call upstairs. She always breezed past his desk, assuming (a) he’d know where she was going and (b) I’d be delighted to see her. Clyde must be questioning why she’d stopped to let him call up.

Tina’s voice sounded in the background. “That’s
not
how I said to say it. Give me that.”

There was a squeak—from Clyde, I assumed—and then Tina came on the line. “What he was
supposed
to say was ‘Tina requests your royal permission to come upstairs and return your stupid book.’ I wrote it down and everything. Since, you know, you made it clear that you don’t want to see me and all. I’m only doing it because I told your aunt I would.”

I closed my eyes. I had an idea, one I was sure I’d regret, but I was short on both time and options. “Yes, fine, Tina. Please come up. Tell Clyde I said it’s okay.”

She hung up without another word.

“What do you think?” I asked Kane, who sat by the door. “Am I crazy?”

He thumped his tail on the floor and nodded. Then he nuzzled my hand.

I put Roxana’s charm around Kane’s neck and watched as he took on the appearance of a German shepherd. Then I opened the door to watch for Tina. The elevator dinged, and she stepped out, holding
Russom’s
in both hands.

“Here,” she said, thrusting it toward me. “Here’s your book. I’ve gotta go.”

I opened the door wider. “Come in, Tina. I need to ask you a favor.”

Tina rolled her eyes, but she huffed past me into the living room. She dropped
Russom’s
on the coffee table with a bang.

“Shh!” I said. “My aunt’s asleep.”

“Oh! Sorry.” Tina spoke in a whisper. “But I don’t see why I should do you any favors, not after you dropped me—” Her eyes widened when she saw Kane, and she forgot about whispering. “You got a dog?”

Kane growled, and I patted his head to make him stop. It was better that Tina didn’t know his real identity. She wouldn’t exactly be my first choice if I were looking for someone to keep a secret.

“I’m watching him for someone. Just for a few days.” Or until the next full moon, I hoped.

“He’s cute. What’s his name?” Tina got down on her knees and scratched behind Kane’s ears, burying her face in his ruff. “Are you a good doggie?” she asked in a baby-talk voice. “Are you a good boy?”

Kane growled and pulled out of her embrace. He backed away a few steps and crouched, ears back, teeth bared, looking ready to spring. I stepped between them.

“His name? Um, Killer. He’s not a pet.”

“A working dog, huh?” Tina sat back on her heels and leaned to see around me, looking wistfully at Kane. “I used to have a dog, when I lived with my family. Buddy. He was a crazy hound dog, but a lot of fun to play with.” She climbed stiffly to her feet. “One time, Buddy got hold of my little sister’s favorite teddy bear, and—” She frowned, remembering she was mad at me. “I’ve gotta go. Sorry, but I don’t have time to do you any favors right now.” She headed toward the door.

“The favor isn’t for me, Tina. It’s for Mab.” As soon as I said it, I bit my tongue. Mab’s brusqueness had intimidated Tina when they’d met. Being alone with Mab was probably the last thing Tina wanted.

She paused, one hand on the doorknob, and turned around. “Your aunt?”

“Yes. She’s not well. I need someone to stay with her while I . . . uh . . . while I take Killer for a walk.”

“Oh. Okay, I guess I can do that. I don’t really have to go anywhere.” She headed toward the kitchen. “You got anything to eat?”

“Whatever’s in there, it’s yours. I might be gone a couple of hours, but Mab will probably sleep until I get back.”

“A couple of hours? That’s a long walk. But I guess a big dog like Killer needs lots of exercise.” She pulled open the freezer. “Ooh, ice cream! Chocolate—is that all you’ve got? No mint chocolate chip or butter pecan or anything?”

“Tina. Listen to me.” I took the ice cream carton from her hands and set it on the counter, then closed the freezer door. “This is important. Until I get back, don’t let anyone in the apartment. I’ll tell Clyde, too.”

“Sure, okay. Nobody gets in.” She opened drawers until she found a spoon. “Is your aunt, like, in danger or something?” Her eyes widened. “Are there demons after her?”

If only you knew.
“Not immediate danger. And no, you won’t have to fight off any demons, so stay out of my weapons cupboard.” I hoped the lock was strong enough to keep Tina out if she got curious. “Like I said, my aunt isn’t feeling well. I want to make sure she gets her rest.”

Tina nodded. I picked up the ice cream and handed it to her.

“What did you do to your wrist?” she asked, looking at the splint.

“I broke it in a fight with a vampire.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. You probably slipped in the shower or something. You know,” she said over her shoulder as she carried the ice cream into the living room, “you don’t have to make up stuff to make your life seem more interesting than it really is.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Kane, waiting by the front door, bared his teeth when he saw her.

Tina sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote. She flipped to a talk show. Then she put her feet up on the coffee table and pulled off the ice cream carton’s lid. “Killer wants ice cream. I’d give him some—you know, to make friends—but chocolate is bad for dogs.”

Kane growled deep in his throat. I had a feeling it would be bad for Tina if I didn’t get him away from her.

“Thanks, Tina. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I ran into Juliet’s room, grabbed one of her sweaters, and stuck it in a plastic bag. Back in the living room, I pulled on my jacket. “Come on, Killer.”

When I opened the door, Kane ran out into the hallway and jumped up to press the elevator button. I hoped we’d get him through the lobby without Clyde noticing. The thought made me turn around.

“Tina, one more thing. Don’t tell anyone that Killer’s staying with me, okay? We’re not supposed to have pets in this building.”

She answered through a mouthful of chocolate. “That’s two favors you owe me now. Don’t think I’m not counting.”

WE DIDN’T EVEN TRY TO HIDE KANE AS WE CROSSED THE lobby. Clyde’s eyes bugged out and he turned a new shade of zombie green, but he must have seen something in my face, because he didn’t say a word. He went back behind his desk and shuffled papers, pretending we weren’t there.

The checkpoint presented no problems. Kane stayed low, and the guard didn’t notice him. Besides, German shepherds didn’t need permits. At Back Street, police had cordoned off the murder site. Portable floodlights illuminated the scene. Police cars flashed their lights, contributing an almost carnivalesque atmosphere. Uniformed cops stood at the perimeter, keeping reporters and curious citizens back. The crowd spilled into Berkeley Street. Kane and I threaded our way through the onlookers until we got to the front.

Roxana’s charm held. No one shouted “Werewolf!” and ran away screaming.

I bent down and spoke quietly in Kane’s ear. It twitched as he listened. “The last time I saw Juliet, we were standing by that crashed taxi. Mab was inspecting the driver’s injuries, I stood beside her, and Juliet was behind us. We stood there for a minute, tops. But when I turned around to leave, Juliet was gone.”

Kane nudged at the plastic bag I held. I removed Juliet’s sweater and held it out to him. He sniffed at the fabric, taking his time. Then he put his nose to the ground. He moved back and forth along Berkeley Street, nudging people out of the way or scooting between their legs, trying to find the scent. It must have been hard trying to sniff out one vampire in that jumble of confusing odors.

Before long, though, Kane froze. He raised his head and yipped quietly, looking back at me.

“You got it?” I mouthed.

He nodded and lowered his head to the ground again. He broke out of the crowd and moved toward Beacon Street at a swift trot.

At the intersection, Kane turned right on Beacon. He went maybe a dozen yards and then veered toward the curb. Beside a parked car, he stopped and raised his head. He looked up and down the street, nostrils flaring, trying to catch a scent on the wind. Then he squeezed between two parked cars, stepping into the street. He walked slowly along the street side of the cars, sniffing the ground. There wasn’t much traffic on the oneway street at this time of night, but I watched for cars coming from Beacon Hill.

Kane bounded across the street and paced up and down the sidewalk there. After a few minutes, he returned to where I stood. He sat and shook his head.

“So the trail disappears right here?”

He nodded. He got up on his hind legs, leaning his front paws against a car, and then looked down the street.

“Yeah, that must be what happened. They put her in some vehicle and drove off.” I slumped against the parked car. Damned dead end. Now what? The Old Ones had Juliet. Myrddin had the bloodstone, and Mab was aging by the minute. Kane was stuck in wolf form, thanks to Myrddin’s magic. And in forty-eight hours, someone else would die.

It was more than I could handle. Maybe I could do something to stop the Reaper—and frustrate Myrddin’s plans. But I couldn’t do it alone.

“I’m going to look for Daniel,” I told Kane. I couldn’t imagine Detective Costello would be happy to see me, the “amateur detective” who wasn’t good at much besides handing over mysterious virus samples and getting in the way. But if I told him where the Reaper would strike next, he could flood the place with cops and, with luck, prevent the final murder.

And I’d be there, too, to settle things with Myrddin.

We made our way back to the crime scene. The crowd had thinned. There wasn’t much to see: crime scene technicians crawling over the place, a photographer taking photos, cops standing around talking.

Standing beside the Channel 10 On-the-Scene News van was Lynne Hong, investigative reporter. Lynne had been dating Daniel since the Paranormal Appreciation Day concert. She was pretty and petite and, right now, mad as hell. I went over to talk to her.

She nodded in greeting when she saw me, then turned her annoyed gaze back to the crime scene.

“Is Daniel here?” I asked.

“Yes. Not that it’s doing me any good. There’s been no official statement yet, and he won’t talk to me unofficially. What good is dating a cop if you can’t get inside information?”