Love Is in the Air (24 page)

Tyr appeared to be extremely used to women getting tongue-tied around him, because he just shrugged off her compliment.

A very nerdy serf pushed his glasses up. “We’re arguing over the name of this item.”

The serf pointed to a wax figure whose hands were bound to a chair with a metal device that acted like a wicked neck brace. The tips that held up the chin and pushed against the breastbone were spiked. Fake blood dribbled down from the points of contact.

“ ‘Tis a poorly constructed heretic’s fork.”

“Duh!” the serf exclaimed as he hit his forehead.

Tyr reached out, tested the metal against his thumb, and nicked the flesh.

Although the historians gasped, he casually rubbed the blood between his fingers. “And not a very sharp one at that.”

Sal turned to leave, but something caught Tyr’s eye. He reached out and took a bullwhip down from the wall. With expert skill, he lashed the whip out, then snapped the leather tip.

Crack
!

The sound reverberated off the high ceiling. As everyone else jumped back, Sal watched as that secret smile only she noticed tugged at Tyr’s lips. Satisfied, he coiled the whip, and strode away.

“Um,” the serf mumbled, “I don’t think you’re supposed to take the props.”

“You wanna try to stop him?”

Let them debate that
, Sal thought as she trotted to catch up.

CHAPTER 79

Tyr slowed as they mounted the stairs to the second floor of the prison. She didn’t bother to ask why their pace had waned. From his clamped jaw and worried eyes, Sal knew he sensed something. The threat didn’t seem to be the beast, or his knife would be drawn. Still, his tense posture set her on edge.

The deeper into the prison they had delved, the more the crowd had thinned. Even the macabre wax figures had diminished, until there were only empty cells lining the hall around them.

Their isolation gave Sal no comfort, though. She knew having people around didn’t make them any safer; if anything it just put more lives in danger, but their lone footsteps echoing off the cement walls weren’t helping her nerves.

Above them rose another story of cells, shrouded in darkness. Just as the crowds had thinned, so had the torchlight. The third floor was nothing more than a vague outline. The beast could be crouched right above them, and they would never know it.

Tyr frowned. “There is discord ahead.”

Sal’s stomach lurched. Not just metaphysically, but literally. Her hand found her midriff. Even that soft a touch hurt her knotted intestines. She just wasn’t cut out for battling the supernatural.

As they crept down the long line of locked cells, Tyr’s knife in one hand and the whip in the other, an explosion sounded from outside. They both swung around.

Outside the cell windows, fireworks bloomed to life. Blues, greens, and brilliant whites shone momentarily, and then faded to a wisp of smoke. While Sal felt relieved, Tyr’s knuckles had blanched around his hilt.

“It’s just fireworks,” she said, but he didn’t seem soothed. “They are displays of light for entertainment. There’s nothing magical about it.”

As another cluster of explosions lit the sky a deep red, Tyr didn’t seem convinced.

“The display signals the crowd that the main event will start shortly. Then, when the party is all over, there will be a grand finale to alert everyone that the festivities are over and to head to the dock.” Sal lowered her tone. “I swear. I’ve seen it before. It’s no threat.”

When his lips didn’t lift from their frown, Sal figured that she hadn’t convinced him that the fireworks weren’t dangerous. But then, she noticed that his head was tilted to one side, listening for something. Sal stopped and listened intently between the
boom
of the fireworks.

Were there groans? As Tyr inched them forward, Sal began to suspect they didn’t arise from suffering.

“Tyr,” she said as she tried to slow him down.

A huge explosion of oranges and greens filled the sky. Sal suspected that those weren’t the only fireworks going on right now.

A gasp.

No restraint could keep Tyr from bolting forward.

“No!” Sal exclaimed. “I think they’re just—”

She ran into Tyr’s back as he pulled to a halt at the cell’s threshold. On the thin cot bolted to the wall, it looked like someone was trying to re-create a scene from the movie
Excalibur
. The big, burly guy on top played Uther Pendragon, and this being San Francisco, the Duchess Igrayne had a mustache.

“I’m so sorry,” Sal said as she urged Tyr away from the illicit scene.

Was it surprising that a couple had used the prison as a sexual rendezvous? No. Was it disturbing? Yes. Tyr started to say something, when a scream echoed off the walls.

That wasn’t sex, or even rough sex. That was pain. Hurt. Injury.

And it had come from above. From that darkened third floor.

Without a word, they both sprinted for the stairs.

CHAPTER 80

Close on Tyr’s heels, Sal charged up the steps. No other cries followed the first, but with the beast, there usually wasn’t time for a second. Far down the corridor, Sal spotted two figures, one huddled over the other.

Tyr must have seen them as well, for he cracked the whip. “Away!”

A young man, dressed as a Crusader, jumped back, seemingly against his will. “I didn’t mean to do it!”

Sal rushed to the downed man.

Straight, black hair. Green tights. A young, Asian Robin Hood.

“Lionel?”

He sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a swollen hand. “Dr. Hing, to you.”

She waved Tyr back. The professor couldn’t be too badly injured if he was joking. “Fine, then. I’m Dr. Calon. Let me take a look at that wrist.”

Lionel extended the arm, but glared at his friend. “That’s what happens when you try to use force rather than persuasion.”

“But it opened, didn’t it?” the young man countered. The Crusader looked as though he wanted to join them, but he dared not cross the invisible line that Tyr had drawn with his whip. “I told him not to put his hand in there. I
told
him.”

She flexed Lionel’s wrist up and down, palpating the carpal bones. Nothing popped, snapped, or crackled. Nothing broken, then. Just a bad sprain. “You should get an x-ray, but you probably don’t even need a support wrap.”

The young professor looked her up and down before he answered. “I didn’t know the Romani were particularly gifted as healers.”

“You’d be surprised,” she answered as she helped him to his feet. Tyr’s tensed jaw told her that they had wasted too much time already. “Anyway, we should get you to a hospital, and—”

“Hell, no. We still have a bet that—”

Tyr took a forceful step forward. “Enough.”

Lionel looked like he wanted to say something. Actually a lot of things, but the professor could not bring them to his lips. Sal knew how the poor kid felt.

Satisfied the man was under his control, Tyr turned away. “Follow.”

While Hing looked distressed, his Crusader friend was eating it up.

“Hey, are you guys like an S & M act? Are you going to make him watch or something?”

“Leave,” Tyr rumbled. The kid’s face didn’t have time to register the surprise as his feet started moving on their own, running down the hallway.

“Commanding people isn’t the answer,” she argued.

Tyr’s eyebrow shot up as he indicated Lionel, who had fallen into step behind them. “Is it not?”

“Let me rephrase. You shouldn’t.” Sal held his gaze. Tyr looked as though he wanted to issue an edict or two at her, but he ultimately shrugged and waited for her to continue. “Just give me one minute. That’s all I ask.”

“Release,” Tyr grunted toward the young professor.

Sal had heard the term “wig out” before, yet had never seen it actually happen. As soon as Lionel had his free will back he spun around, testing his limbs, jabbering away, even though he didn’t really seem to acknowledge their presence.

She put a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked away. “Don’t touch me. What’s going on? Where did Kurtis go?” Maybe Tyr had the right idea after all. “Why couldn’t I speak? What happened to my feet? How did—”

Sighing, Sal tried to keep the impatience from her tone. “Look, can we skip the whole adolescent freak-out and shift gears right into scientific inquiry?”

He shook his head, but said, “Yes.”

“Tyr can manipulate his electrons to transport plasma that carries his intent to affect your electrons, and ultimately your plasma. Given that the vast bulk of our cellular makeup is plasma, he basically can control you.”

Lionel’s eyes flickered to Tyr, then to Sal, and then back again. “You’ve seen my experiments?”

Tyr snorted his contempt, but she nodded. “Yes. And that is why you are in danger. The bea—,” Sal stopped herself. The professor didn’t seem ready for that info just yet. “Someone really wants your research and is willing to kill for it.”

“What do you mean?”

Sal lightly touched his arm. “I’m sorry, but Mika was murdered last night.”

“No way. She texted me this morning to meet her up here tonight.”

Lionel couldn’t be right. But he pulled his cell phone out and showed her the message with the date and time stamp. Mika’s phone texted Dr. Hing at ten forty-five this morning.

Panic took over. Her heart was no longer pumping blood, it pushed only adrenaline. Sal spun toward Tyr, but his countenance showed only annoyance at their delay. He didn’t understand the implications of Lionel’s words.

How she wished the beast was just an animal. But he wasn’t. He had human intelligence, an intelligence that could learn to manipulate something as modern as a cell phone.

“The beast lured him here,” she finally choked out.

Tyr didn’t question her, he just grabbed Lionel. “We must away.”

“Wait a minute!” The professor screeched. “You can’t just—”

Sal trotted next to them. “Lionel, we’re trying to save your life, so I’d tone down the rhetoric.”

“Are you the cops?” Lionel asked, clearly struggling to come to grips with the last few minutes. “I thought you were a doctor.”

“I am. We’re not law enforcement per se, but we are acting in your best interests.”

The professor ripped his arm out of Tyr’s grip.

“Why should I believe you?” he demanded as a roar echoed through the hallway, rattling the bars as the air turned a sickly red.

“
That’s
why.”

CHAPTER 81

Lionel didn’t seem to need any more edicts as he ran down the stairs right alongside them. Clearly, the young professor wanted to get as far away from the source of that roar as they did. And the professor hadn’t even seen the fangs yet.

Unscathed, they made it down to the first floor. The rows of torture chambers were deserted. The fireworks had accomplished their task and lured everyone outside for the charity’s main event. Through the brief snatches of window, it looked like a jousting tournament was in the works. Horses reared as the crowd cheered. It felt surreal. So much frivolity out there, and so much terror in here.

Focusing on the hallway, they just kept running. Another hundred feet down the passage, and they’d be out of the prison. Another quarter mile, and they’d be on the docks, free from the beast and his damned crimson glow.

Of course, that was right about the time the beast leapt down from the second floor, landing a yard ahead of them. With a snarl and swish of his tail, the beast blocked their exit with his hulking frame.

“Oh, my—” That’s as far as Lionel got before he fainted.

Sal clutched the unconscious professor to her. She checked his pulse as she slid him down to the floor. He was alive—just out cold.

Cracking his whip, Tyr stepped between the downed professor and the beast. “He will die by my blade before his knowledge falls to you.”

She hoped that Tyr was just bluffing, but knew that he probably wasn’t.

Sal cursed as her pulse boomed in her ears as loudly as the fireworks had. How could she think when her heartbeat consumed her entire world?

If she wanted to save Lionel from not only the beast but Tyr as well, Sal needed to think. Focus. But that was hard in the torchlight. Its soft flickering light was more mesmerizing than clarifying.

Tyr cracked the whip again, but this time the beast didn’t back away. If anything, the sound of the leather snapping the air only antagonized him. He was going to attack. Sal could feel it in her own muscles.

With Tyr’s tiny knife, they couldn’t hope to kill the beast. At least not here, not now. The best they could do would be to drive him back, give themselves some room to maneuver. Without better weapons, though, how could they drive him back? How did you drive a beast away?

Sal was on her feet before she thought her action through. She grabbed the closest torch from the wall sconce. “Tyr!”

The beast must have sniffed out her intent, for just as she launched the torch toward Tyr, so did the beast. Somehow, in the rush, Tyr dropped his whip in favor of the flaming brand, then shoved her to the side. “Move!”

As Sal fell to the hard cement floor, she watched Tyr twist around, trying to propel himself out of the beast’s path. But the beast’s leap was well calculated as he slammed his full weight into Tyr. Entangled, the collision reeled them both into a window.

Whether it was the beast’s intent or luck, the force of their impact shattered the window and knocked the steel bars from their mooring.

In a shower of glass and iron, Tyr and the beast fell from the prison.

CHAPTER 82

Sal rushed to the window, glass crunching under her boots. In a tangle, Tyr and the beast rolled down the hillside toward the party, crashing through a blue tent, finally coming to rest in the middle of the jousting tournament.

Panicked horses flayed, bucking and dumping their riders. The crowd scattered back as Tyr jumped to his feet, driving the beast back with a swipe of his torch. The beast roared his defiance, yet the astonished partygoers formed a tight circle around the battle.

Jesus, they must think this is part of the show.

A few people even clapped. “Run! Get to the boats!”