Trail of Dead (32 page)

Runa checked the freezer, rummaging around behind boxes of microwave dinners. “Saw it in a movie,” she said sheepishly, as she closed the freezer door.

Jesse dropped into a folding chair, fidgeting. “We might be way off about this. He might not even have a spare key. Or he might have given it to a friend for safekeeping. Hell,
Scarlett
might have it.”

“Don’t give up yet,” Runa soothed him, patting his shoulder. “We still have the bedroom and the bathroom.”

Jesse looked up at her. He still felt the vestiges of love, and the grief, but something had changed fundamentally between them. It was like she’d torn off a mask. He didn’t even know this Runa, who was committing a major crime with him to stop a couple of nutcases she’d never even met. “I don’t want to go in there,” he confessed. “It’s too…personal.” And he didn’t want to see where Scarlett and Eli had slept together.

“Okay, let’s stop and think this through,” she said thoughtfully. “You’re Eli. You lock your keys in your car, which is parked illegally downstairs. You’re running late for something, so you wouldn’t want to have to track through the whole apartment to find it.”

“It’s not in the kitchen, and it’s not on a hook by the door,” Jesse added.

They stood like that for a moment, and Jesse felt the beginnings of despair. If they couldn’t find Scarlett…

“The surfboard,” Runa said suddenly. She was eyeing the giant board by the front door.

“What about the surfboard?”

“Look, there’s something behind it.”

Jesse followed her line of sight. There was a very narrow closet door set in the wall just behind the surfboard. They moved at the same time; Jesse pulled the board aside so Runa could grab the closet doorknob. It opened with a jingle. There were three sets of
keys tacked to the back of the door. Someone had taped a piece of masking tape over each one, labeling the sets
Car, Apartment
, and
HotD
.

“Hot Dee?” Runa said, confused.

“Hair of the Dog,” Jesse said. He snatched the car keys off the hook and thrust them at Runa. “Let’s do it.”

Runa looked around the room, and finally went over to the carpeted area in front of the TV. She pulled a piece of chalk out of her skirt pocket. “Other witches do this differently, but I’ve always liked working within circles,” she explained, drawing a large one on the carpeting. She didn’t completely close the circle, leaving a gap of four or five inches. “It helps me focus.”

Jesse shifted his weight uneasily. “Do you need me to leave?”

“No, just be quiet and don’t let anything cross the line.” She looked around. “And I don’t have a map, so I’ll need to do this with a pen and paper.”

“That I did see in the kitchen,” Jesse said, and he retrieved a chewed-up pen and a pack of Post-it notes for her. “How long will it take?” He tried not to sound as anxious as he felt.

Runa shrugged helplessly. “Five minutes? Ten? Usually I do an elaborate circle with candles and stuff to help get me in a trance, but this is the quick-and-dirty version. Just try to be patient.”

He nodded, and she stepped into the circle, sitting cross-legged with the paper and pen and key in front of her. She picked up the chalk again and closed the circle, then exchanged the chalk for the car key. Jesse sat down in the folding chair again, not wanting to crowd her by taking the sofa or armchair. He was expecting her to start chanting in Latin or something, but to his surprise she closed her eyes, took in a deep breath, and let it out in a single humming note. Jesse had attended a couple of her yoga classes when they’d first started dating, and this was not unlike the
Ommmmmm
sound she used at the beginning and end of each
class. She had a nice voice, and he found the tone sort of pleasant, rather than annoying.

That went on for a few minutes, until Jesse felt the tiredness overtaking his body. He’d been running on adrenaline since his stakeout at Kirsten’s, and he hadn’t exactly slept well on the floor at his parents’ house. Now that his body was still, he was beginning to feel it.

Suddenly the hum stopped, and Runa did begin to chant, but not in Latin. It was a singsong, lilting language Jesse didn’t recognize. Kirsten was Swedish, wasn’t she? If they were cousins, maybe this was Swedish? Finnish? Something Scandinavian, surely. Runa’s upper body tilted forward, and her right hand crept down to the floor, picking up the pen. She scrawled something on the Post-it note, and Jesse had to restrain himself from running over to break the circle and snatch it up. Instead, he sat impatiently as Runa went through a couple more minutes of the humming tone, and then she opened her eyes. She shook her head a little, focusing on him, and looked blearily down at the note.

“Oh, here.” She ripped the top sheet off and handed it to him. He squinted to make out her tiny handwriting:
Dayton and Freight St., Redondo Beach
. “Do you know where that is?”

“I think so,” Jesse said. “I know Freight Street, anyway.”

“Then you should go.”

He took a step and hesitated. “What about you?”

Runa smiled sadly. “I’m going to call a cab.” She brightened suddenly. “Oh, wait.” The witch dug in her other skirt pocket and came out with a tiny bag on a long string. “I grabbed this for you from Kirsten’s car. She keeps a couple just in case.”

He took the little bag, looking at her face. “Protection amulet?” he asked, surprised. He’d been under the impression that only certain people were given these.

She nodded. “It’s not elegant, but it’s the quick-and-dirty version again,” she said. She reached over and tapped the bag. “This one is for protection against witches.”

“Not vampires?”

Runa shrugged. “You can only wear one at a time, for it to work. From what Kirsten told me, Olivia will stay pretty close to Scarlett, which means the witch will be the one at large. This will prevent her from spelling you.”

“Thank you.” He hung the long string over his head, tucking the bag into his shirt. Looking around, he also picked up the crowbar and hid it back in his sleeve. Just in case.

“Remember,” Runa added, “as soon as you get close to Scarlett, that amulet will short out. So make it count, Jesse.”

He met her gaze and found a whole unspoken conversation there. She stepped forward and gave him a gentle, brief kiss on the lips. “Go,” she whispered.

He went.

The second I realized what Olivia was planning, the panic took over. Even though some rational part of my brain knew it was useless, I kicked backward against the golem, forcing it to hold my weight so I could use both legs. Nothing happened. The damn thing didn’t even have to adjust its grip, and my kicks were completely ineffective. I braced my feet back on the ground and slammed my head backward, hoping to startle it, but the golem didn’t have pain sensors, and although I did feel a tiny bit of give as I dented its nose, all I really ended up with was a minor headache.

Olivia had simply taken a small step back while I did all this, a bemused, taunting smile on her face. “All done?” she said cheerfully. I didn’t answer. “Very well.” She nodded to Mallory, who shuffled forward, bent a little, and pinched at a vein in my left hand. The pain was surprising and sharp, and I felt involuntary tears spring to my eyes. I’d had an IV before, but real nurses actually tried
not
to hurt you. The needle went in, and Mallory held it in place with one hand while she peeled a line of surgical tape off her opposite arm. She taped the needle roughly to my hand, and then straightened up to fiddle with something on the IV pole. The clear liquid—the Domincydactl—flooded down into the tubing.

Mallory took a hobbling step back, admiring her handiwork. She looked at Olivia. “Good?” Olivia nodded, and Mallory checked her watch. “I’m going to begin,” she announced. Mallory hobbled
away, toward her pentagram. I felt it when she tugged out of my radius.

The needle was in. The chemo had begun.

I was too stunned to make any kind of comment. Part of me had been counting on Jesse to burst in at the last second, shoot the bad guys, and somehow destroy the golem. That part just couldn’t believe it hadn’t happened.

They were really going to kill me. And then bring me back.

The possibility had honestly never occurred to me, and it was taking a long time to sink in. When I found out about the Old World, I thought I had guaranteed immunity from becoming a vampire or werewolf. Even when I’d learned Olivia was a vampire, I hadn’t really considered the implications. God, I was an idiot.

What would happen after? Best case, maybe I could escape from her, somehow, and go live with Molly again. We could be like morally questionable sisters, or something. But vampires had some sort of power over their progeny. Molly had hinted about it at some point, but I hadn’t asked more questions—it wasn’t like I would ever need to know personally, right? But what if Olivia could order me to do anything she wanted?

And even if she didn’t…I just didn’t want to be a vampire. I didn’t want to only live when the sun was down. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. And I would miss the beach, and running in the sunlight, and oh my God,
food
…

I struggled to get hold of myself. I had promised Jesse I would fight. I didn’t want to break my last promise as a human.

Olivia disappeared from my line of sight for a second, then returned pushing a wheelchair. She parked it next to the golem, put the brakes on, and settled herself into the chair, crossing her ankles demurely. We watched as Mallory puttered about her pentagram, reciting chants and sprinkling herbs around. She picked up something that had been resting on the book’s open page and hung
it over her head. As she bent forward, I saw an ordinary-looking rock swinging back and forth on a leather thong.

“Exciting, isn’t it?” Olivia sighed. When I didn’t answer, she looked over at my stunned expression. “Oh, relax,” she said dismissively, waving a hand. “It’ll probably take several doses before your aura dies. We’re not really sure, as I had already completed a number of treatments before the Domincydactl worked.” She added brightly, “But we’ll just keep trying until we figure out the formula. This clinic has all the equipment. That’s why I was so eager to get your treatment started, in case it takes us a few tries.” She patted my upper arm again, then frowned at my hair. “Of course, I’d hate for you to lose all that gorgeous hair, even if it does need a trim.” She smoothed her own dark bob. “I was one of the lucky ones who didn’t lose hair with chemo, of course, but I don’t know if you’ll be so fortunate.”

I searched for words, completely at a loss. Olivia’s plan, anyway, was clear to me now: she had threatened and scared and hurt my loved ones just enough so that when she called for me, I would come. Like a dog. Then she could turn me into her little vampire pet. But what the hell was Mallory doing?

Also, if I lost my hair from the chemo, would it grow back, or would I be a bald vampire?

“What,” I began, and had to swallow past my dry throat. “What is she doing?”

Olivia looked at me to see if I was being sincere, and she decided to answer me. “She’s completing a spell she began almost a decade ago,” Olivia whispered conspiratorially. “That was how we met. The spell failed the first time, and the golem she had at the time took most of the lightning strike for her.” Olivia gestured to her own face and chest. “It still managed to hit Mallory, though.”

I was beginning to feel a little woozy, but I was trying to tell myself I might just be tired and sore. I’d lost a reasonable amount of blood too, back at the bar. Maybe that was all I was feeling. “I
don’t get it. If she was able to almost complete the spell the first time, why did you guys have to go for the big guns? The Transruah? The mandrake?”

Olivia gave me an approving look. “You
have
been doing your homework, haven’t you?” She stretched luxuriously in her chair. When I didn’t respond, she pouted a little. It wasn’t as much fun if I didn’t beg for it. “Mallory had help the first time,” she explained. “Another witch worked with her, someone of no consequence. I’m absolutely useless with magic, of course, so this time Mallory decided to get all her ducks in a row before she would make her move: the Transruah, the solstice, and the mandrake root, which she’s using now.” Olivia nodded toward Mallory and her herbs. “She doesn’t even need her golem, with all of that.” She patted my hand, saying warmly, “I’m so pleased that you get to be here for this.” Like we were at a brunch again.

“But why?” I asked, trying to keep my voice mild. I
had
to know what was behind all of this. All those deaths. “I mean, does this big spell even do anything?”

This was meant to taunt her a little, and it worked. She gave me another disapproving look. “Of course it does,” she said severely. She turned her focus back to the pentagram. Mallory was seated now, her cane abandoned outside the ring of candles. An enormous, tattered book sat open in front of her, and she was reading aloud from it. The Book of Mirrors. A good man had died just so that book could be in this room. “There are two parts, now,” Olivia whispered. “First she needs to restore herself, physically and magically. That’s what the mandrake is for, to gather life that she can channel into her own body.”

“She’s going to heal?” I asked. I don’t know why I was surprised.

Olivia nodded smugly.

“Where does it come from? The…life…she uses to heal herself?”

Olivia waved a hand. “Oh, the air, perhaps, I don’t know. She’s not stealing a whole life for that, so a sacrifice is not necessary, not with the arsenal she’s got.”

Okay
, I thought.
So far not so bad.
“What’s part two?”

The smug look again. “When she is whole, I’ll escort her to the hospital, to Kirsten’s bedside.”

“Kirsten?” I echoed, startled. “What does she have to do with any of this?”

But Olivia held up a hand. “Shh. This is my favorite part.”

I felt like we were at an outdoor barbecue, watching the cook flip burgers in the air. Mallory went silent, her eyes closed, and a wind seemed to pick up in the enclosed room. The witch’s long hair whipped around her head, and the lapel on her white lab coat fluttered. I couldn’t feel any sort of draft, though, and the candles weren’t flickering.