Pomegranates full and fine (21 page)

“What do you mean? Vampires are Embraced, like you said.”

“No.” Tango smiled and shook her head. “I mean, isn’t this the kind of room you would have liked?”

“I... I don’t know.” it was such a human thing to ask. She hadn’t really thought about her childhood in a long time. Miranda opened the jewelry box on the vanity. A miniature ballerina popped up and began to pivot to the tinkling sounds of a music box. Tango glanced at the jewelry box, then looked again and came over. She pointed at a piece of the child’s jewelry inside.

“That’s the charm bracelet that Cheryl... Riley was wearing on the plane.”

Miranda picked it up. “Cute.” Little gold charms dripped off the bracelet, and there were more in the box. Mostly souvenir charms from the cities and monuments captured in the photo albums.

“Let me see it.” Tango reached for the bracelet. Miranda dropped it into her hand.    •

The changeling gasped suddenly and let the bracelet go. Miranda snatched it out of the air as it fell. She stared at Tango. “What?”

Tango was holding her hand as if she had been shocked. “The bracelet is magical. Enchanted somehow.”

“How do you know?” Miranda fingered the delicate metal. The bracelet seemed perfectly ordinary to her.

“Changelings can sense things like that sometimes. Especially when the magic is very strong.” She blinked and shook her head. “But it’s not enchanted with Glamour, and it doesn’t feel like a mage’s human magick. There’s something... evil about it. Not the bracelet itself, just the enchantment.” She took a breath. “The bracelet feels almost like it’s alive.”

One charm dangled apart from the others, a flat tag engraved
Cheryl.
Miranda rubbed it between her fingers. “You say Riley was wearing this?” Tango nodded. Miranda licked her lips. “Maybe I’ve been hanging around Tolly too long, but if magic transformed Riley into Cheryl, what better way to do it than with a charm bracelet?”

Tango’s breath hissed between her teeth. “That would be a very cheap, sick pun, but you might be right.” Abruptly, she held out her arm. “Put it on me.” “Are you crazy?” Miranda pulled the bracelet away. “We don’t know what it could do to you!”

“If I’m right, I’ll turn into Cheryl.” Tango grimaced. “I don’t like it either, but this could be the only way for us to know what they did to Riley.”

“But will you turn back again when the bracelet is off?”

Tango looked into Miranda’s eyes. “Cross your fingers and hope.” She pushed her wrist forward again.

Miranda swallowed. If Tango was determined to go through with this, she would help her. Quickly she fastened the charm bracelet around the changeling’s fine wrist. Tango’s eyes went wide with pain and her breath caught harshly in her throat. And then Miranda was holding the hand of a sweet-faced little girl wearing Tango’s clothing.

The transformation was virtually instantaneous. Miranda was stunned for a moment by the speed of it. One moment Tango was herself, and the next moment she was Cheryl, the girl from the photographs. Except that both she and Tango had forgotten to think of one thing: suddenly there was an eight-year-old girl in the dark room, her hand being held by a tall woman whose features were lit eerily by a flashlight. Cheryl screamed in terror, hurling the flashlight away.

Frantically, Miranda fumbled open the clasp on the bracelet and clamped a hand over the girl’s mouth. “Quiet!” she whispered, rocking back and forth. “Quiet! It’s all right.” She looked down at the figure in her arms. It was still that of a little girl. “Oh, shit.”

“Mmph,” mumbled the figure. It shoved at Miranda’s hand. “It’s Tango.” Her voice was normal, but the rest of her wasn’t. She looked down at herself. “My god.” “You’re not turning back!”

“I am, but slowly. Maybe the time the transformation lasts after the bracelet is off is related to how long the bracelet is on — the last time I heard from Riley, he had Cheryl’s voice, but his own memories. I got my own voice back right away.” She hissed. Miranda felt the changeling’s body shifting in her arms, growing larger and filling out. Tango was becoming herself again.

“It hurts?”

“In more ways than one.” Tango carefully picked up the bracelet, not trying to put it on, but holding it as if it were almost too hot to touch. “We were right, Miranda. It was the bracelet... and the bracelet is alive... and there was a girl named Cheryl once.” Tango’s voice was filled with rage. “All of these charms are parts of Cheryl’s life. Someone trapped her spirit in this bracelet!”

Miranda was stunned. “Who?”

Tango shook her head. “I don’t know. But it happened a long time ago.”

“The first pictures of Atlanta and Cheryl are from sixteen years ago.” Miranda growled. “If they’re all like Riley, people transformed.... Could that be what Riley got mixed up in?”

“No. I don’t think so. Maybe.” Tango stared at the bracelet, then said bitterly, “We still don’t know what happened to Riley. They got the bracelet on him at the airport, brought him onto the airplane, and sat him right in his own seat! But someone canceled his ticket

— no, they wiped any record of his ticket off the system.
Who could have done that?”

She was shaking, though whether from frustration, anger, anguish or just the effort of controlling her emotions, Miranda couldn’t tell. The vampire gave the changeling a tight hug. Tango hugged her back for a moment. The contact made Miranda feel better as well. How long had it been, she wondered, since she had been held? Not embraced in the course of feeding, not caressed by Solomon, but simply held? Six years? As long as since she had thought about her childhood. She closed her eyes and savored the sensation. It felt good. When Tango finally pulled away, Miranda found herself reluctant to let the changeling go. “Now what?” she asked.

“We search the room.” Tango retrieved her flashlight. “With any luck, there’s something in here that we can use.”

There was, and they found it under the ruffled skirt of the bed. Another photo album with a third set of pictures. These pictures, though, didn’t show scenery, or Atlanta and Cheryl. They showed other people, men, women and children — not posed, but simply candid or covert shots. The photographs were dated, and each corresponded to a photograph in the other small album. The last photograph was a picture of Riley, taken as he was getting out of a cab. Miranda hissed as the significance of the album dawned on her. “Tango! She kidnaps people, then uses the bracelet to transform them into Cheryl!”

Tango nodded grimly. “She could take them with her on planes or anywhere else and no one would be the wiser. Like some kind of magical bounty hunter. But why Riley?” She brushed her fingers over his photo. “Bounty hunters don’t snatch people for no reason. Somebody wanted Riley. This photo was taken just outside San Francisco International.” She brought out the other album and turned to the final picture of Atlanta and Cheryl. The two pictures had been taken twenty-five minutes apart. “Atlanta couldn’t have gotten the bracelet on Riley by herself. He would have fought back.”

“Then she had help, unless she’s a lot more than she seems. Someone to alter the record of ticket sales, too.” Miranda glanced at Tango. “Why the bedroom, then?” “I don’t know.” Tango tapped her chin with the butt of the flashlight. “Cover maybe? Somewhere for ‘Cheryl’ to stay.” She frowned. “This kind of magic wouldn’t be cheap. Except for knowing that whoever is behind this had the clout and contacts to hire a really good bounty hunter, we’re still no closer to finding out where Riley is now.” Tango closed the photo album and set it aside. “I wonder what happened to the other people Atlanta kidnapped.”

Miranda was silent. She knew what the Sabbat did to the humans that they kidnapped. They became a feast for the vampires. The idea was suddenly unsettling to her.

In the silence, she heard the sound of laughter — a man and a woman — and a dull click as the lock on the apartment door opened.

CHAPTER NINE

Laura kept watch in vain In sullen silence of exceeding pain.

She never again caught the goblin cry

Tango fumbled with the switch on the flashlight, flicking it off just before the front door opened and the lights in the apartment came on. Nothing she had found in the master bedroom would seem to indicate that Atlanta Hunter was in any kind of relationship. Tango didn’t know who the man was. She didn’t care. She wanted Atlanta now as badly as someone had wanted Riley a few days ago. Creeping over to the door of the bedroom, Miranda just behind her, Tango peered around the corner and down toward the living room.

She could just see Atlanta and the man who was with her. He seemed to be about the same age as the woman, with short hair that was just starting to turn gray at the temples. Atlanta looked just as she had on the airplane, cool and arrogant. The man had his arms around her and was kissing her throat fiercely. Atlanta’s head was thrown back. “Get rid of the man,” Tango whispered to Miranda. “But be careful of Atlanta. She might be dangerous. I’ll take care of her. On my signal....” She raised her hand, waiting until the man and the woman were once again kissing face to face.

Her hand came down.

Miranda slipped past her, sliding down the hallway as smoothly and silently as a steel ball on an oiled track. Shadows slid with her, shrouding her movements. Tango felt like an elephant in her wake. Though she moved stealthily as well, she could only envy the vampire’s predatory grace. They were practically on top of Atlanta and the man before Atlanta happened to glance up. With a muffled yelp of surprise, she tried to push the man away.

Then Miranda had her hand on his shoulder and was tearing him around. His face, wrenched away from Atlanta’s, looked into Miranda’s with shock... until he met her gaze. His eyes glazed over almost instantly. Miranda propelled him toward the door. “Get out,” she said. “You never came in here. Atlanta said goodbye to you at the door.” The man went with her meekly.

Atlanta’s eyes narrowed as she glanced from Tango to Miranda. Tango reached for her, trying to grab her arms and twist them behind her. Atlanta was just a fraction of a second faster, though. She leaped for the door. One hand dipped into her purse, coming up with a hand-sized black cylinder. Miranda turned to look at her, startled.

Tango tackled the blond woman, wrapping her arms around Atlanta’s legs and bringing her crashing to the floor. The black cylinder went skittering across the floor. Pepper spray. “Shut the door!” Tango hissed at Miranda. The vampire shoved the man out into the hall, pointing him toward the elevator, then quickly swung the door shut and threw the lock. There was a chain on the door, and she fastened that as well. Tango dragged her way up Atlanta’s struggling body, one outstretched arm clamped over the other woman’s mouth. Atlanta twisted like an animal, but remained astonishingly calm, fighting intelligently. She heaved at Tango, trying to dislodge her, but couldn’t. Tango got a gtip on Atlanta’s shoulders and slammed her back against the floor, stunning her momentarily. “Where’s Riley?” she demanded. She clenched her hand and brought her knife into existence, holding the blade where Atlanta could see it very clearly. “I’m going to take my hand away now. Don’t scream. Just answer my questions.”

She lifted her hand enough to let Atlanta speak, but kept it close enough to slap back down quickly. The blond woman looked at her defiantly. “Who are you?” “Where’s Riley?”

“What are you talking about?” Atlanta didn’t seem at all frightened or intimidated. She glared at Tango and then at Miranda. “I don’t know either of you. If you want money, take my purse.”

“We don’t want money. We’re looking for someone. A red-haired man named Riley. What do you know about him?”

Atlanta looked back up at her. “Nothing. Am I supposed to?”

Tango hesitated. There were changelings who could tell instantly when someone was lying, and a few others who could make any lie told in their presence come out of the speaker’s mouth as a belch or a living toad. Unfortunately, all Tango had to go on was experience and instinct. And all of her experience and instincts told her that Atlanta was telling the truth. She really didn’t recognize Tango and she didn’t know who Riley was. “I was on the airplane from San Francisco. I sat next to your daughter, Cheryl. You were in the seat behind her.”

“My daughter,” Atlanta said woodenly, “died sixteen years ago.” She studied Tango’s face, then nodded slowly. “I recognize you now. You were on the flight. I don’t remember who was beside you.”

“There was a little girl there. She came on board with you. About eight years old. Blond.” Tango clenched her jaw. Atlanta had to be lying — and if she was, she was very good at it. Unless there was more magic involved here. Tango worked a kenning and examined the woman under her. Nothing. No Glamour. No hint of human magick. “Cheryl showed me her charm bracelet,” Tango added, searching for a response.

She got one. Atlanta was silent for a moment, then she rolled her head to one side, looking away. “Get out!” she spat, emotion in her voice for the first time. “Get out! I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but it isn’t funny.”

Tango ground her teeth in frustration. This was ridiculous. She couldn’t have been wrong, could she? Atlanta was the woman from the plane. The photograph albums showed her and her supposedly dead daughter — and Riley. She had the foul charm bracelet! Tango’s hand itched to slap Atlanta across the face. She was very tempted to give in to her anger. She pushed it back.

Miranda put a hand on her shoulder. “Wait. Let me try.” She crouched down and reached out with both hands, turning Atlanta’s head back to look at her. She stared into the blond woman’s eyes. “Answer our questions.”

Atlanta wrenched her head away. “Go to hell,” she spat miserably. Miranda frowned up at Tango. She reached for Atlanta’s head again, seizing it almost roughly when Atlanta tried to shake her off a second time, and applying enough strength that the woman was forced to turn or else have her neck injured. Miranda’s dark eyes gazed deep into Atlanta’s. The blond woman went pale, her lips pressing together. Miranda forced her will upon her. Atlanta’s eyes went wide. The muscles of her body went limp. With a sense of triumph, Tango started to slide off her.