The Wild Side: Urban Fantasy with an Erotic Edge (19 page)

“This can’t be good.” I pointed to an overturned container with the red-lettered warning BIOHAZARD stamped on all sides. The lock was missing, and there was nothing in it.

“They bit off more than they could chew when they opened that. The zombie pieces from your wedding were in there.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Zombies need to be incinerated to destroy them. Hacking a zombie to pieces will only slow it. That box must have exploded with creepy-crawlies when they opened it. In fact . . .”

Lucy dropped to her knees and started crawling around the floor, pushing paper and other debris out of her way.

She looked up at us. “If one of the pieces got away, we’d still be able to use it for the spell. Help me look.”

We all spent a fruitless ten minutes sifting through the overturned office searching for specimens.

“Sylvie,” Grig pulled me aside. “How well do you know Alex?”

I moved closer. “What do you mean?” I whispered.

Grig shrugged. “He knew we were coming here. His cohorts attacked me. What if he’s behind the zombie attack?”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “He’s Michael’s partner.”

Michael’s phone rang.

“What?” He spat into it. “Damn it, Alex. Of course, the crime scene and the forest reek of fairy magic. The entire Fey Guard was there!” He threw the phone across the room; it shattered against the far wall.

“Michael’s starting to fall apart, Sylvie,” Grig said.

“No,” I whispered.

“Grig’s right, Sylvie.” Michael slumped against the wall and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m losing myself. The paranoia. The hair-trigger temper,” he sighed. “The sex didn’t help. I’m turning even faster than normal. Grig needs to kill me before I hurt someone.”

“NO!” I said. “I’ll take you to Faery.”

“It’s too late,” Grig said. “I’m sorry, Sylvie, but Michael’s too far gone. Nothing dead can enter Faery. And he’s definitely dead.”

“I don’t feel so good,” Lucy said, swaying on her feet.

Grig caught her before she fell. “You two go to Victor. I’ll look after her.” He guided Lucy to her office chair, forcing her head between her knees.

Michael stumbled on the steps out of the building and rolled down them, landing in a heap at the bottom.

“Michael!” I rushed down the stairs after him.

“I can do this by myself!” He shoved me as he staggered to his feet. “Leave me alone!”

“We may not have much time left, Michael,” I sobbed. “Please don’t push me away.”

He reached over and pulled me close. “I’m sorry,” he said, burying his face in my neck. His skin was fever hot.

Michael was shambling by the time we got to Victor.

Victor paced the small room, mumbling under his breath after we told him the bad news.

“Get Alex,” Michael mumbled. “Gun.”

“No,” I said. “We’ve come this far. We can do this. Don’t give up on me.” Under the harsh fluorescent lights, Michael looked awful. The circles under his eyes were black, and his eyes showed more red than blue. I glamoured the two-way mirror to make sure he never saw the zombie in his reflection.

“Alright,” Victor said. “I’ll use Michael’s blood. There’s no mistaking him for the living dead now anyway.” He grabbed the edge of the table. “Help me move this thing.”

We pushed the table against the wall. Victor removed all of the objects from the bag I’d brought from his lab and lined them up along the top of the table. He laid out a piece of papyrus and placed a chip of elephant tusk across its center.

“What does that do?” I asked.

“Do you know anything about fetishes or magic?” he asked.

“Not human magic,” I said.

“Ahhh . . . Well, in this case, I want to lure our practitioner here with their senses. The ivory is for thought.” He picked up the hawk’s feather. “This is for sight.” He placed it alongside the ivory. “For taste, I add a drop of mead. Just a touch of pheromone for smell.” He drew the stopper from a little bottle, sniffing it, before dripping it along the feather. “I’ll finish it with the sound of a siren’s call”—he waved a tiny crystal vial under my nose before placing it in his pocket—“once I’ve closed the circle.”

Victor pricked the tip of Michael’s finger with a fountain pen; the pen sucked up the blood before it could drip to the floor.

“It’s a leech pen,” Victor explained at my look of disgust.

Victor used Michael’s blood to scribble runes on the paper. Then, in a series of intricate moves, he folded the papyrus around its contents.

“It looks like a koi,” I said.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he retrieved a fishing lure that had snagged in the bag and tied it to the outside of the koi, leaving the wicked barb jutting from the front like a harpoon.

“Voila!” He laid the completed charm in the middle of the floor next to the fishing rod and a little mound of dirt and grass from the clearing.

“Give me as much room as you can,” he said. I grabbed Michael and backed into the far corner.

Victor drew a circle around himself with chalk. Then he attached the lure to the fishing rod. He began chanting something in a language I didn’t understand. There was a rhythmic cadence to his humming.

The energy in the small space shifted.

The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end.

Electricity filled the air.

Taking the little crystal bottle from his pocket, he removed the glass stopper and used it to paint a blue smile across the face of the koi.

I heard nothing, but Michael jerked.

“Hold him, Sylvie.” Victor’s lips never moved. His voice was in my head.

I held Michael as Victor cast his lure. The bait dangled a foot from the floor.

Victor looked into space as he sat in the protected circle. A shiver ran across my body. There was more to him than met the eye.

Suddenly, the lure disappeared and the fishing line went taut.

“Gotcha!” Victor reeled in the line.

Lucy walked in.

“Perfect timing, Lucy,” Victor grunted, sweat beading his brow. “Any second now, the person who perpetrated this atrocity will come walking through that door and clear my name.”

Lucy said nothing, tears in her eyes. Victor pulled on the line again. Lucy moved forward. Victor watched her as he released the tension again. She relaxed. He gave a giant yank on the line, and Lucy fell forward, stopping as she hit the invisible barrier of the protective circle.

Lucy burst into tears. “I’m so sorry. I tried to tell you so many times. This is so out of control.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” I said, shaking my head. “If you released the zombies, why help us?”

Lucy’s words came in a rush. “I still can’t believe it. I left the room for just a minute. When I got back, the morgue was empty.” She wiped her streaming eyes on her sleeve.

“You left a room full of zombies alone?” Victor asked.

“They weren’t zombies,” Lucy sobbed. “I ran all the tests. They showed no infection.”

“You must have missed something,” Victor said.

“I don’t know,” Lucy said. “All I know is that when I heard there were zombies on the loose, I rushed out to help.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” I yelled. “We could have saved hours! Look at Michael!”

“I was going to confess when I gave you the blood, but somebody knocked me out and destroyed the evidence.”

“How convenient.” I said.

“It’s not my fault!” she said.

I took her down with a flying tackle. “Bitch!”

Victor pulled me off her before I could do her serious harm.

I turned my anger and frustration on him. “She started this whole fiasco. They arrested you because of her!”

“I know,” he said. “And she’ll pay for it. But right now, we need to . . .”

In the corner of the room, Michael let out an ear-splitting scream, then gasped, clutching his chest as he collapsed, convulsing, to the floor. His back arched like a bow, every muscle in his body rigid.

“Sex,” I said.

“Too late,” Victor said. “He’s entering the last stage. His time is up. We have to get him out of here now.”

Lucy picked up Michael’s feet. “Grab the other end, Sylvie.”

I pushed her away. “Haven’t you done enough damage?” I said.

“I can help,” she said.

“She knows as much as I do about zombies,” Victor said. “Let her help.”

I rubbed my hands across my face and slowly nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.” I bent to pick up Michael’s head.

“I can’t leave,” Victor said. “I’m still under arrest.”

Shit. I laid Michael’s head down again. I tried calling Alex, but his phone went straight to voicemail.

Michael began twitching on the floor, his face glowing with fever, his skin so dry it looked like it would crack if I touched it.

Panic and fear bubbled in me. I tamped them down. “Focus,” I told myself, tearing my gaze from Michael.

I looked at Lucy. She stared back at me blankly.

I turned to Victor. “Magic?”

He shrugged. “Invisibility is always an option, but I don’t have what I need.”

“Can you fix Michael here?”

He shook his head. “Too many variables. I need all of my tools at my disposal to deal with whatever comes up.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He looked me in the eyes. “I haven’t succeeded in reversing the process yet. My work was interrupted.”

My stomach dropped.

“One problem at a time,” I said.

My brain kept replaying the word “invisible.” It was the key. If we couldn’t actually make Victor invisible, could we fake it?

My gaze fell on Michael. I flinched. His skin was pallid grey where it wasn’t fever bright, emphasizing the dark circles around his eyes. Glamour would not be enough to get him out of the building without anybody realizing he was a zombie.

Could I glamour Michael and Victor invisible? No, too hard, but . . .

“Lucy, you and Victor are going to carry Michael down the stairs to your car. I’ll walk ahead. You stay five feet behind me, no further, and no closer. Also, no talking or drawing attention to yourselves in any way; think invisible thoughts.”

“Why?” they asked in unison.

“I’m going to boost my sex appeal so much that no one in the stationhouse will notice anything but me as we walk through. Whatever you do, don’t look at me or make eye contact with anyone in the building.

“Here,” I took a crinkled Kleenex from my purse. “Don’t worry, it’s clean.” I ripped it into four pieces and handed two to each of them. “Wad these up and put them into your ears.”

“Why?” Lucy asked.

“I’m going to use an enchantment song to add to the distraction.”

Once I was sure they were both as protected as I could make them, I motioned for them to pick up Michael.

We headed out.

I gathered all of the fairy power I could muster. I ran my hands seductively across my breasts, down my stomach, and along my hips, adding a little shimmy to settle the glamour over me like a sexy, tight black dress. I tossed my head and set my shoulders back. As I led our little procession from the room, I started humming one of the oldest songs known to Faery. We’ve been using it to lure humans for as long as they’ve walked the earth.

I matched my body’s rhythm to the beat of the music. My pulse quickened in response. I walked a little faster and let my hips sway. My breath hitched as I approached the stairs. I ran my hand along the smooth wooden handrail as I began my descent. A flush spread over my body, and tension mounted as I continued the song. The moment I came into view of the room downstairs, all activity stopped. I was the center of their universe.

I hoped that Lucy and Victor were right behind me, but I couldn’t risk a peek. I continued down the stairs, stroking the banister as I went.

I repeated the first verse of the song three times before we were safely at the car. The second verse would have enslaved everyone who heard it. I wanted to distract them, not have them following me to the ends of the earth.

* * *

When we pulled up in front of Victor’s house, I was relieved to see there were no media vans around.

The camera flash came out of nowhere, blinding me.

“Care to make a statement?” The man stepped into view as he spoke.

“We don’t have time for this,” I said, trying to hold up Michael and maneuver around the reporter who was now blocking the entrance to Victor’s house.

“Isn’t that Michael Thomas?” He said.

I looked around for help. Lucy stood frozen, and I didn’t see Victor anywhere.

“And aren’t you—” The reporter slumped to the ground. Victor stood behind him, a frying pan in his hand.

“You can’t just go around knocking people out!” I said.

Victor shrugged. “We’ll give him an exclusive later,” he said as he pulled the reporter’s limp body up the front stairs and into the house.

Lucy and I followed with our own limp burden.

“He’ll be safe in here,” Victor said as he shoved a chair under the knob of the coat closet door, wedging it shut.

“Come on,” he said, disappearing down the steps to the basement.

Before we could follow him, Grig stepped from behind the basement door. He closed and locked it. “Not so fast,” he said.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Victor pounded on the door.

“This travesty stops now,” Grig said, blocking our path with his body. “Humans are pets, nothing more. You certainly can’t marry one. You’re going to marry me.”

“I don’t love you.”

“Once he’s out of the picture, you’ll feel differently,” Grig said.

“No, I won’t.” I stuck my face in his. “Even if you were the last male anything left in the worlds, I wouldn’t marry you.”

“You say that now,” he said.

“And I’ll say it forever.” I sighed in exasperation. “Open the door, Grig. We’re done talking.”

“As you wish.” Grig drew his sword and stabbed Michael through the middle of his chest.

I screamed and threw myself at Grig, but I was too late. Michael lay on the floor, his blood soaking the carpet beneath him.

“It was you,” said Lucy. She was staring at Grig. “You attacked me in my office. And I met you earlier, too. At the morgue, just before I discovered that all the bodies were gone.”

I froze and stared at Grig in horror.