Dark Demon Rising: Whisperings Paranormal Mystery book seven (18 page)

“Oh,
no. Not gonna happen,” I said.

Royal
took in a deep breath. “I will not bring Lawrence here to die.”

“Die?
No. To talk. To come to an arrangement. You see, Ryel, the Gates will open before
another decade passes. The Gates to
my
world. Perhaps a year, or five .
. . exactly when is unknown but they
will
open. Naturally I, with my brethren,
want to be there when they do. Our treaty with Gelpha is nothing more than
words; if need be, we will forge through Bel-Athaer, we will fight, and many
Gelpha will die. But with the High Lord’s blessing we will go peaceably.”

“And
if I do not?”

Shan
shrugged, said carelessly, “Then eventually the link to her body will dissolve
and it will expire. Her spirit will linger perhaps till the world dies, but she
will never regain her body.”

I
felt cold with dread. Shan knew what buttons to push and I was one hell of a big
button. But he gave Royal an impossible choice, me or Lawrence, and we’d be crazy
to deliver the boy to him. “Don’t listen to him, Royal!”

Royal
remained silent for a long moment but I sensed his thoughts racing. After a
long hesitation, he said, “The Council will not let Lawrence leave Bel-Athaer.”

“Then
do not ask them. The boy trusts and admires you, he will suspect nothing. Ask
for a private audience and take him.”

“By
force?” Royal’s complexion darkened as blood rose to his skin.

“What
method you use is not my concern. You have two days. I will re-open the Gates when
you leave this house. In forty-eight hours they will close. If you do not bring
the High Lord to me you will never again see Tiff Banks alive. Tell Lawrence
this: when the Gate to my dimension opens, my people will be drawn to it. What
they find will influence their actions. It will be better for all concerned if
they find me.

“One
more thing before I go,” Shan showed his teeth. “Call me by my name.”

Royal’s
jaw clenched.

“What
is my name?” Shan thundered, his brows coming together.

“Mother,”
Royal said as if the word tasted putrid in his mouth.

“Yes,”
said Shan, and . . . he was gone.

“I
trust you can see yourself out. My driver will take you to The Station,”
Arthemy said. “Bring your woman’s body when you return.”

“Bring
Tiff? She is on life support.”

“She
won’t need the machines when she enters Downside. Trust me. Dagka Shan wants
her alive.”

“And
what when she leaves?”

“She
will walk from here a whole woman.”

“Why
should I believe you can do as you claim?”

“Hers
is not the only soul I have excised and restored.”

Arthemy
pointed a long bony finger at Royal. “Bring no one else when you return, nor to
linger outside my home. You, the boy and your woman, both body and soul.”

“
If
I return,” Royal amended stiffly.

One
of Arthemy’s eyebrows rose. “If you don’t bring the boy, do not expect to see
her alive again.” He left the room with a swirl of robes.

Royal
still faced the fireplace and his shoulders slumped. I sensed his weariness. He
must be worn out and now faced with an impossible task.

I
slipped around to face him and looked into dark, tortured eyes.

“Oh,
Royal.” I wanted to comfort him, but what could I do?

He
didn’t know I clung to him but spoke as if I did. “What he said about you
lingering forever, Tiff. I cannot bear to think of it,” he said as if the words
choked him.

“Hey,
it won’t be so bad. I’ll have Jack and Mel.” I thought for an instant and
amended my statement. “Yeah, it’ll be bad.”

Royal’s
eyes came back into focus and he turned to the door. He walked through the
eerily silent house to the front door, seeing no one.

Maggie
and Chris sheltered from the rain in the house’s porch.

I
asked Maggie to speak for me as we joined them. “What is all this about magic
and mages? Shan employed the guy to. . . .”

Oops
.

“You
came with me when I expressly forbade it?”

“
Forbade?
”
I began, but let it go. “Ah. Well now. You told Maggie not to go and you said
if I were here in the flesh you. . . .” My words trailed off and so did
Maggie’s. His face looked like thunder.

But
the anger drained and his lips twisted in something like a smile. “I should
have known.”

The
light dawned. “Magic. It’s why you wanted to come here, isn’t it? Why you
thought Shan was here. His message said blood and
magic
will bring me
back.”

“Downside
as a magical place is part of the mythos, though mention of it is vague, as is
everything about Downside. I put two and two together and hoped it made four. I
thought Shan gave me a clue to his whereabouts. I never imagined. . . ,” he held
his hand palm up to indicate our surroundings. “. . . this.”

The
pearl-gray car came along the street, performed a U-turn and stopped at the
gate. Royal nodded at it. “Get in. We will talk later.” He didn’t have to
caution silence; nobody spoke in front of a man who might report to Arthemy and
Shan.

The
driver drove as recklessly on the return journey. Maggie gasped several times
and let out a tiny
eek
once. Chris set his mouth tight as if he seethed with
impatience. Royal looked ahead but I don’t think he saw anything.

All
three passengers grabbed the back of the front seats to stop themselves
smashing into them when the car stopped. I made sure I held Maggie’s aura
securely before they piled out. The car whipped into the street, barely missed
a few heedless pedestrians and sped out of sight.

“What
happened?” burst from Chris.

Royal
eyed the far side of the street. “Let us find somewhere to talk in relative
privacy.”

“I
think there’s a coffee house farther on.” Chris nodded, his chin aimed at a
store beyond four other businesses.

He
turned his collar up and jammed his hands in his pockets. Maggie pulled her
hood up and hunched her shoulders as if they could protect her from the rain.
Royal was oblivious of the moisture. At least the rain did not pelt down like
ammo now but settled on them gently.

They
walked in the direction Chris indicated and I tried to see inside the stores we
passed, interested to know if they differed from those in Clarion. Racks stood under
an awning outside a boutique but I couldn’t determine styles with the way the
clothes were packed together. Beautiful cut glass vials and bottles twinkled in
a perfumery’s window display. People waited their turn inside a barber’s shop;
their build and features made me think
masculine
, but something about
their faces and hair were off the mark. The last store we passed displayed
coats, umbrellas and rubber boots.

I
imagined a warm fuggy atmosphere when we entered the coffee shop. It was similar
to every coffee shop I have ever visited: tables and booths, a counter with oversized
coffee machines behind and pastries in the glass cabinet in front. A large
whiteboard listed specialties. A nearby station provided sweeteners, liquid
creamers, milk, napkins and stirrers. It seemed to be a favorite for humans; I
spied only two who weren’t, a
something
totally covered in long, shaggy
tan hair and a feminine figure with a disproportionally tiny head and large,
perfectly round black eyes.

Maggie
didn’t hesitate, she all but charged to the counter and ran her eyes over the
offerings posted on the board. “White chocolate latte, two shots of caramel, whole
milk.”

The
pale-haired young man behind the counter winked. “Sweet tooth?”

“Extremely.”
Maggie returned his smile with a grin.

Chris
rattled off an order with a dozen ingredients and added an extra regular coffee.
When their orders lined up on the counter, he took out his wallet and passed the
barista a twenty.

The
lad held the note. “I can’t take this.”

“Why
not?”

The
barista squinted as if to see Chris better. “I recognize it, though. Are you
from Upside?”

“If
by Upside you mean Manhattan, yes.”

“Then
you have a problem.” He slapped the note on the counter. “If you don’t know we have
our own currency, I’m guessing you know very little of Downside.”

Chris
took the money. “We didn’t expect to purchase anything. Where can we exchange
cash?”

The
boy snorted. “You can’t, not with that.” He eyed the queue building behind us. “The
coffee’s on the house, this time.” He dismissed Chris by lifting his head and
calling, “Next?”

“How
is one supposed to get whatever scrip they use if you can’t buy it?” Chris muttered
as Royal led the way to a booth in the rear.

Nobody
replied as they slid in the booth. Chris pushed an oversized mug across to
Royal. “Get this inside you.”

Royal’s
big hands wrapped the mug and he stared at it gloomily.

Maggie
found her notebook and pen. Coffee in one hand, pen in the other, she commenced
scribbling.

So
Felipe wasn’t teasing me, these people called Manhattan Upside. The names did
sound as if Upside should be “up there” and Downside “down here,” except we didn’t
descend on the way here.

“I
suppose it is okay to drink?” I asked through Maggie. “We
are
in another
world, what if their stuff poisons you?”

“Mine
tastes fabulous.” Maggie took another sip.

“There
you have it,” I said brightly. “See if Maggie keels over before you try yours.”

“Thanks
a lot, Tiff.”

Chris
and Royal were in no mood for banter. “Well?” Chris urged.

“Do
you believe in magic?” Royal asked. He lifted the mug but placed it back on the
table without tasting.

“As
in abracadabra?”

“No.
That a man who calls himself a mage told Dagka Shan how to force Tiff’s . . .
spirit . . . from her body and the same man can rejoin them?”

Chris
kept his eyes on Royal as he raised his mug and took a sip. He replaced it on
the table, turned it to reposition the handle. “Well. I don’t know what to say,
old friend.”

“I
do,” Royal said. I thought he spoke more to himself than to Chris. “And
Lawrence is the price for his services.”

“Who’s
Lawrence?” Maggie asked.

“The
High Lord of Bel-Athaer,” Chris and I said at the same time.

“The
supreme ruler,” Chris added. He switched his attention to Royal. “Shan hired
this magician? He wants Lawrence . . . why?”

Royal
shook his head. “Shan says to talk. If he can be believed, the Gates to the
Cousins’ dimension will open in the next decade and they want to be there. They
will go tranquilly with Lawrence’s permission, or fight any who try to stop
them.”

He
told Chris and Maggie what happened in Arthemy’s house.

“You
believe him?” from Chris.

“What
I believe does not matter. I will not abduct Lawrence and drag him here.”

Chris’
mouth flattened as he pressed back in the chair. “Hm. Then what will you do?”

“I’ll
find a way, I will not lose Tiff forever.”

His
anguish made an ache spread across my chest. Perhaps it was my heart breaking.

I
thought of the bloody trail Shan left across the States. He was insane and our
quest as crazy. Royal was determined and I knew him better than I knew anyone.
He would not give up, he’d grasp at any possible solution, no matter how
tenuous, when he should be running as far as possible from Dagka Shan. If no
alternative surfaced, he’d return to face Shan anyway, try to kill him and
persuade Arthemy to return me to my body.

I
couldn’t let him do it, not for my sake.

“Maggie,
speak for me,” I said to her. “Tell Royal, forget all this. Let’s go home.”

Still
writing, she didn’t shut her eyes. “Royal, Tiff says forget all this, let’s go
home.”

It
was one of those times each knew the other’s thoughts. So much said in so few
words. Royal’s fingers clenched on the mug. “No. I will not argue with you,
Tiff. We will not speak of it.”

My
heart dropped into my gut.

“Much
as I hate to say it, Tiff’s future is not the only concern,” he said. “Shan’s
threat, the Cousins will forge through Bel-Athaer when their Gates open if
Lawrence does not give them permission. Shan underestimates us, we can stop
them, but as few as they are, they will still cut a bloody swathe.”

He
dropped his head in his hands. After a second his chest expanded with a deep
inhale. He lifted his head. “Handing Lawrence to Shan guarantees nothing. We
may, after all, have to approach Lawrence and the Council, but first we
investigate any alternative. I think the answer is here but we are ill equipped
to navigate this world.” Royal stared into his mug. “We are out of our depth,
we cannot fight magic. We need help.”

Maggie
didn’t try to produce the derogatory noise I made.

“You’re
serious. You believe this place is all about magic.”

Royal
started to stand. “Look around you, Tiff. What we see is no stage magician’s
trick.”

“What
about the paper Felipe gave you?” Chris suggested.

I
let loose with sarcasm. “Why not? I’m sure it’ll make perfect sense now.”

Maggie
took a huge swallow as I spoke, and coughed on it before repeating my words.

Royal
found the piece of paper tucked in his pocket. Maggie gasped when he unfolded
it. Plain as day, an elegantly handwritten name, address and directions.

I
would not have believed it had I not seen it right in front of my invisible
nose.

“My
mind is officially blown,” Maggie said.

“Angelina.”
Royal looked through the window. “The directions begin at The Station.”

“A
woman. Felipe kept it for a reason,” Chris mused.

“One
he can’t recall,” I said.

“But
he wouldn’t were she someone to avoid. On the contrary, one keeps the address
of a friend.”

“It
was twenty years ago. She probably changed her location.”

“Possibly,”
Chris agreed.

I
heaved an almighty sigh. We’d track down this Angelina no matter what I said.

I
tried to look every way at once as Maggie followed Royal and I drifted with
her. So much to see, from the “people” to the buildings and businesses housed
in them, and my gaze kept darting to the empty red expanse above the rooftops.

And
I was glad I didn’t feel the rain. It drenched Maggie, Royal and Chris and I almost
felt sorry for Chris when he pushed his arms forward to look with disgust at the
sleeves of his beautiful mint-colored suit, now sodden, water dripping from the
cuffs. Maggie lifted her hood again. There may as well have not been any rain
for all the response Royal showed as he strode along.

It
made his copper-gold hair glisten.

He
stopped walking and pointed a thumb at an alley. “I think we go this way.”

The
narrow unlit alley looked uninviting, and from the way Maggie made a face and
wrinkled her noise, also noxious. But along it we went.

We
exited to a street where the streetlamps fought with the red light from above.
Maggie stumbled on the cobbles and Chris caught her arm to steady her.

My
confusion grew. We must have walked half a mile by now but the city still rose up
in every direction. My brain fought with my gut instincts, one saying we must
be inside an enormous structure, the other beginning to think we really were in
another world.

Tiny,
red, inhuman eyes blinked open and watched us from the shadows, the poorly lit
street alive with them. Before I knew what I was doing, one hand grasped
Maggie’s aura and the other held my gun, barrel pointed up as my gaze flitted
back and forth. The weapon was useless but holding it felt right. Royal’s
shoulders tensed and he hurried along, moving through sooty black broken by the
bloody light from streetlamps glowing dull red.

More
red eyes popped open in clusters. Then
something
crawled from the
shadows.

It
looked like a giant rat with a curiously human but pointed face and the limbs
with which it clawed forward ended in hands. But matted brown hair covered a
humped back and a long bare tail slithered behind. Its red eyes fixed on us
hungrily. The shadows behind it stirred.

“Move,”
Chris said.

They
moved, Chris and Royal between them taking Maggie along so her feet skimmed the
ground, happily not so fast their pace ripped me from her. I expected to hear
skittering feet, but we broke free of the alley and into the light.