It Happened One Doomsday (16 page)

A crash from the living room signaled that Rane was awake. She rolled to her feet and blinked in the morning light, looking stunned. “Hey. I miss anything?”

Dru just stirred her coffee and glanced at Greyson.

He lifted his leather cowboy hat, revealing his horns. “Morning.”

“Ooh, still demon-y. Least you're not trying to kill anyone. And plus you're bitchin' stylish, so, win-win.” Rane lurched across the living room, long arms stretching wide, mouth yawning open wider. “
Ahh
 . . . Coffee. Black.”

“Out of mugs,” Greyson said. “She got the last one.”

“Whatever. We'll share.” Rane straddled a chair and picked up Dru's mug, downing it in three gulps before she set it down and tapped the rim for a refill.

“There's more.” Dru pointed at the laptop. “Apparently, Hellbringer hails from some evil sorcerer group's mansion in New Mexico. Possibly haunted.”

Rane draped a heavy arm over Dru's shoulders and hugged her close. Her skin radiated a sleepy warmth. “Cool. Road trip.”

19

DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME

Nate's white Prius trundled southbound on the empty highway at exactly one mile per hour under the speed limit. Denver was hundreds of miles behind them. Ahead, endless hills of sunbaked New Mexico earth rolled out of the distance, evenly dotted with tufts of dry green scrub and spiky yucca. Beyond, dark clouds rose over the deep blue silhouettes of mountains, threatening to overtake the clear, bold sky.

Before they'd left, Rane had pointed out how much she liked seeing Dru in a “prom dress,” which immediately made Dru insist on running home to get cleaned up and put on skinny jeans and some road-trip-worthy shoes.

Now, Dru slurped down the last syrupy drops of her Frappuccino through its overly long green straw and regretfully nestled the empty cup back into the holder.

As the desolate highway droned along beneath the tires, she wished Greyson would say something. Anything. He'd barely spoken a word in the last couple of hours. Even Rane was quiet in the back seat, possibly napping.

Dru kept wanting to ask Greyson how he was doing, but she held back. It was fairly obvious he didn't want to talk. Besides, who would be happy about being stuck in half-demon form, with horns, claws, and glowing eyes?

She felt terrible about his condition, though she hadn't caused it. At least she had broken Hellbringer's connection to whatever dark force was behind all of this. She presumed that kept Greyson from getting any worse. But she still didn't know how to break the curse for good.

“Just to keep you in the loop,” Greyson said abruptly, breaking into her thoughts, “it's getting late, and we're getting closer to sunset. We need to pick up the pace.”

Dru flexed her aching fingers on the steering wheel. “Well, I can't change the speed limit.”

“Too late to point this out, but I do have a
much
faster car parked in my garage.”

Dru shook her head resolutely. “No one is going anywhere in Hellbringer. That thing stays parked.”

“Even after your spell? I was under the impression that you short-circuited the instrument of ultimate evil. Now it's just an ordinary car, right?”

“Still.”

“Still, now you're wondering if you should've let me drive.” He sounded sure of it. “You enjoy danger. You just don't want to admit it. That's why you're in this line of work.” He turned his dark sunglasses toward her and gave her an unusually frank smile.

Part of that smile might have been from the potion he'd been sipping on all afternoon. She'd formulated a new potion before they left, a simpler one with more quartz infusions to strengthen his willpower and steel his resolve.

So far his demon symptoms hadn't gotten any better. But they hadn't gotten any worse, either. That was something.

“Believe me,” she said, “I'm not a big fan of danger. The less, the better.”

“You say that, but you're still driving us across the desert in search of some crazy haunted mansion that's not on any map. That's what I like about you. You're full of contradictions.”

“Maybe,” she admitted after a long moment, and a slow smile spread across her face.

It felt so great to be out of the city, on the open road, heading toward the unknown. Completely unlike her usual self, but unexpectedly invigorating. Like a cool drink of water when she didn't even know she was thirsty.

Plus, she was completely at ease with Greyson. Sitting next to him felt so effortless, so right. As if they'd known each other for years. Even the way he looked at her had a puppy-dog quality to it. The thought made her smile even wider.

He smiled back, teeth shining in the sun, red eyes still hidden behind his dark sunglasses. “Come on, you've got to be tired. Pull over and let me drive.”

“Why on earth would I let you drive? Especially after you've been drinking out of that skull-shaped bottle all afternoon?”

He scrutinized the bottle. “I thought you made this potion lower-octane.”

From the back seat, Rane barked out a laugh.

Greyson turned toward her, sunglasses flashing. “I'm sorry. Question from our studio audience?”

Rane leaned forward between the seats, wearing Greyson's leather cowboy hat. Dru did a double take, but decided not to ask.

“Dude,” Rane said, “she's not going to let you drive her boyfriend's car. Period.”

Greyson just grunted and faced front again.

An awkward silence descended. The desert slid by, endless.

“Speaking of your boyfriend,” Greyson said finally. “Isn't he going to wonder where his car is?”

“No, Nate's in New York. As long as I get back to town in time to pick him up at the airport, everything's going to be fine.”

Greyson glanced at his watch. “So what's Nate's deal, anyway? What kind of sorcerer is he?”

“Oh, no, he's a dentist.”

Greyson raised an eyebrow. “A
dentist
?”

“What?” she said. “Why does everyone always say it like that? There's nothing wrong with a dentist.”

“I just never pictured you . . . Never mind.”

“Pictured me what?”

Greyson just shook his head.

“Pictured me
what
?” Dru slapped her palm on the steering wheel.

“Naked?” Rane said from the back seat.

“Hey.” Dru pointed back over her shoulder. “Pipe down back there.”

“Greyson, do not question the dentist thing.” In the rearview mirror, Rane's half-lidded eyes scowled at Dru from beneath the hat brim. “Please, please tell me you're not going to launch into your whole flower manifesto again. Are you?”

“No . . .” Dru sighed. “Anyway, I wouldn't exactly call it a manifesto.”

Greyson cocked his head at Dru, waiting.

She sighed. “Rane doesn't want to hear it.”

He folded his arms. “Then it must be good.”

A warm glow spread through her. She couldn't help herself. “Okay. So, the thing about flowers—”

Rane took off the cowboy hat and bopped her with it. “Jeez-
us
. Not again.”

“
So 
. . .” Dru said. “You remember in that restaurant, Chez Monet? They had all the flowers?”

“My recollection's a little fuzzy.”

“Right. Sorry. Well, everywhere you look, they have these gorgeous vases of miniature red peonies. Beautiful. And they happen to be my favorite flower.”

“That's why Nate picked the restaurant for you?”

“No.”
That would've been nice
, she thought. “No, that's just their thing. But that's not the point. I've always loved peonies because they're pretty unusual. But typically they don't get a lot of respect. Right?”

Greyson shrugged.

“Okay, well, what kind of flowers get all of the attention? Roses. Red roses. Because they're all dramatic and bold and romantic. Right? Well, sorcerers . . . I've known a bunch. A
bunch
. And they tend to be long on drama and short on commitment. They're like thorny roses.” She looked up in the rearview mirror at Rane. “Present company excluded.”

“No, go ahead,” Rane said, tossing the hat over her shoulder. “I am
so
thorny.”

Dru turned her attention back to the road. “And what I really want is a red peony. Less dramatic, sure, but completely dependable.” She let out a breath. “You see what I'm saying?”

“No.” His sunglasses made his expression unreadable. “But obviously you need to get more flowers.”

“I mean I just want a normal life.”

“Except,” Rane said, “there's one big, fat problem with your theory. In reality, Nate's an a-hole.”

Greyson tried to hide his smile.

Dru waved it off. “Oh, don't worry. It's just, you know . . . a little thing we're going through.”

Rane leaned forward between the seats. “Okay, dude. Let me ask you. When a guy says, ‘We should take a break,' what does that mean? Isn't that kind of like saying, ‘I'm a selfish jackwad who only cares about myself'?”

Dru tried to shrug it off. “I'm sure he didn't mean it,” she said quietly, but that sounded hollow even to her.

“Told her this on the
phone
,” Rane said.

Greyson visibly winced. To Dru, he said, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, feeling a hard lump form in her throat.

“He's seeing someone else?” Greyson said.

“No!” Dru said at the exact moment that Rane said, “Probably.”

Greyson made a dismissive wave. “Sorry, not my business. Just have to seriously question any guy who'd give you up.”

Dru just glared at Rane.
Probably?
How could she even think that?

Rane caught the look and shot it right back. “Sorry, have I entered an alternate universe where Nate can do no wrong?”

“Good thing is you've seen your dentist's true colors,” Greyson said. “Maybe there's someone out there who
will
treat you right.”

Dru kept her gaze locked on the empty highway ahead. This conversation was spinning out of control, and suddenly all she wanted to do was stop the car and get out. But they were stuck together in the middle of the desert.

No one else could understand how badly she wanted to just live a stable life, for once. Because deep down inside, she didn't feel like she belonged in the weird world of magic. She'd never been a sorceress.

Until now.

The real question, the scary question, the one lurking at the edge of her mind like a dozing bear that could maul her at the slightest provocation: could she handle this? All this magic?

Or would it burn her out, crush her, leave her broken and unfulfilled and alone, like so many sorcerers she had known over the years?

She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Greyson was right. They had to hurry if they wanted to make it before nightfall.

With a twinge of reluctance, she forced herself to press down the gas pedal and edge up past the speed limit.

It didn't solve anything, really, because the desert was still just as vast and endless. But it felt good. It felt like the tiniest taste of freedom.

From behind, Rane placed her strong hands on Dru's shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze. “You'll be okay.”

“I know,” Dru said with a sigh, tilting her head until she could see Rane's eyes. “We'll work it out.”

“One way or another,” Rane said.

Dru risked a glance over at Greyson and watched the stubbly outlines of his face as he stared out at the dry rolling hills. Wondering what he was thinking, what he was seeing out there in the unfocused distance. What he was keeping locked away inside.

He sat up suddenly, squinting into the distance.

She tensed. “What?”

He pointed. Branching off the main road, a cracked narrow blacktop driveway stretched away into the distance, as if some giant had used a black magic marker to draw a single dark line across the desert.

“We're here,” Greyson said. “That has to be the address from the auction. The mansion where the sorcerers lived.”

And likely where they died
, Dru thought.

20

EVIL IN MIDCENTURY MODERN

Despite the illusion of nothingness that showed on the map, their destination stood out clearly against the desert. It gleamed in the distance long before they reached it, a shining white heat ripple against the drab earth tones of the dry hills. As they approached, and the building's outlines became clearer, Dru stared in disbelief.

It was a mansion, all right. But this was definitely not the haunted mansion she had expected.

The structure was all curves, without a single angle to be seen. Some nameless architect had sculpted it from an organic expanse of domes, curved walls, and flying buttresses that soared up and around with all the majesty of Saturn's rings.

It looked like the entire contents of a NASA warehouse had been melted together, painted space-capsule white, and dotted with portholes and wide oval windows.

Overall, the effect was hauntingly beautiful, but at the same time downright weird.

The blacktop ended, and the road became dirt. A faint track forked off to the right of the bumpy unpaved road, perhaps headed around behind the mansion. But from the looks of it, no one had used it in decades. Dru kept heading straight.

As she rolled the car to a stop on the long driveway, she craned her head up for a better look. The dark round windows that dotted the house seemed to stare down at them, unblinking, like the eye sockets of a sun-bleached skull. Dru stared back, searching for any sign of what lay inside, but the windows revealed nothing of the mansion's secrets.

A gust of wind buffeted the car, plinking grains of sand across the windshield. Nothing else moved in the still desert.

After trading glances with Greyson and Rane, Dru unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the air-conditioned car into the prickling heat. Somehow, the New Mexico air failed to warm the chilly presence of the sorcerers' mansion.