Waylaid (2 page)

But the woman only shifted her weight to her other hip, big hoop earrings that went out of style in the eighties brushing the top of her wide shoulders. “My God,” the woman said condescendingly. “You didn’t even make a circle. How do you expect to stay alive?”

Jack was on the floor, knocked out or simply passed out. She didn’t know which. He was breathing, though. She tensed, ready to go for the accelerator. “I hope they’re paying you overtime, because I’m not that drunk.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “My bitchy trumps your ’tude, girl. I ought to give you to Al. A hundred years as his familiar will teach you something.”

The woman strode forward and reached for Peri, not the accelerator. Submitting, Peri let her get a grip, grasping the woman’s arm and spinning to flip the larger woman over her back. But the woman was wise to this move, and she hooked her foot behind Peri’s and gave a tug.

Whooping in surprise, Peri went down, landing on her back to look up at the woman bending over her beaming a bright, toothy smile. Hand splayed over her chest, Peri smiled back. “Oh, this is going to be messy,” Peri wheezed.

“You’ve no idea.” The woman’s hand moved in some weird sign language.
“Detrudo!”
she exclaimed, her expression becoming shocked when nothing happened.

Gut clenched, Peri rolled into her. The woman yelped, staggering to find her balance. But Peri was up, jumping onto her back and wrapping her arm around her neck.

The woman’s fingers dug into her arm, and Peri hung on, legs wrapped tight around her as the woman dropped to the floor, slamming the breath out of Peri again. “What the Turn did you do to me?” the woman gasped, fingers prying at Peri’s grip around her neck.

Back hurting, Peri hung on, knowing if she could last a few seconds more, she had the bitch. “It’s called a choke hold, lovey,” she rasped, wincing and tightening her grip when the woman thrashed wildly, knocking them into the table. The glass with the accelerator hit the floor, sending the crystal rolling under the couch. Carnac fled, his eyes wide and tail bristled.

“Not that,” the woman rasped, then rolled, rising up with Peri still on her. “What. Did. You.
Do to me!
” she exclaimed, slamming Peri into the wall with her last words.

Stunned, Peri let go, gasping for breath as she fell to the floor.
I can’t let her get the accelerator
, Peri thought. Knowing she was down, she reached her mind out, finding a still-point of motion five seconds in the past. Her mind would buffer itself by forgetting everything she’d changed the moment she caught up with the present, so she would change very little, and with a curious side step of mental gymnastics, she pushed a two-block area five seconds into the past.

The woman stiffened as if feeling it, and Peri held her breath, watching the flames from her candles flash blue. The tint jumped from molecule to molecule, the room hazed blue . . . then cleared . . .

And suddenly Peri wasn’t gasping for breath on the floor, but still on the woman’s back.

“Let’s try this again,” Peri muttered
, her memory of the next five seconds very clear—for the moment—and she dropped off before the woman could smash her into the wall. Teeth clenched, Peri grabbed the woman’s long red hair and spun her, flinging her into the wall.

The woman hit with a thud and fell. “Ow . . .”

Panting, Peri dove for the accelerator, ripping free the Glock she’d taped to the underside of the couch.

God help me
, Peri thought as time caught up and everything flashed an amazingly clear shade of red and settled.

Time again ran smooth. Peri stood firm as a familiar disconnection raced through her. The last thing she remembered was clinging to the woman’s back. Obviously she had drafted to rub out a fatal mistake, and in the doing had forgotten how she’d broken her choke hold, or how the accelerator had gotten into her pocket, or why the woman was sitting on the floor, shaking her head and trying to focus. Peri could guess, though, seeing as she was standing beside the couch with the Glock she’d taped under it in her hand.

“Move, and I’ll blow your head clean off,” Peri said, but the woman was staring at her from the floor, her green eyes wide and wondering.

“Whoa,” she said, narrow hand raised in submission. “What just happened? Kind of like déjà vu, only I remember it different, not the same.”

Peri hesitated, the Glock’s aim never faltering. “You felt that?” she said, shocked. Most people couldn’t sense it when she drafted. Jack could, which was why he was her partner. “Who are you? Is this some kind of Opti test? Bill? Are you listening? This isn’t funny.”

The woman snorted, cautiously sitting up and untangling herself. “No, it isn’t. Al put you up to this?” she asked as she wound her hair into a makeshift, messy bun and sat there, tired and blowing a missed strand out of her eyes. “Who in hell are you, small, dark, and deadly?”

“Peri Reed. I work for Opti.” She risked a glance at Jack. “Who sent you?”

The woman gingerly felt her back. “You summoned me, remember?” and then she went pale. “Wait, wait, wait. Something is wrong.” Her gaze went to Jack as the man laughed in his drunken stupor, facedown on the floor, then back to Peri. “I can’t feel the ley lines. What did you do to me?”

The woman scrambled to her feet, and Peri backed up, Glock aimed at the intruder’s chest. “I said, don’t move.”

But the woman looked down at her black clubbing dress, anger shifting to disgust. “Crap on toast. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood out of sequins?”

“I’ll give you the name of my cleaner,” Peri said, moving to stay between her and the door when the woman went to look out the windows, hands on her hips as she took in the skyline. Here Peri was with a weapon ready to blow the woman away, and she was crabbing about her dress?
Damn. I think I’m starting to like her.

“Where are we?” the tall woman asked, almost ignoring Peri.

Peri’s jaw clenched as anger and sympathy warred in her, the feeling of having found a kindred spirit winning. How often had she stood at a window, asking the very same thing? Peri lowered the Glock. “You’re not here for the accelerator?”

She turned. “How many times do I have to say it? You summoned me. Where am I?”

Peri put the safety back on. “Detroit.”

Fear crossed the woman’s features. It was the first moment of doubt Peri had seen in her, and it set Peri back. “No,” the woman said, touching the glass as she looked out. “Detroit? It’s so . . . sparkly. Alive.” She turned, her alarm almost hidden. “This is reality, right? Not the ever-after?”

Peri eyed her from under a lowered brow. “I’ve never heard Detroit called that before.” She checked her safety and tucked the Glock in the back of her waistband. She hated putting it there as she couldn’t reach it if she was pinned to the floor, but she wasn’t going to entirely trust this yet. Something weird was going on, and Peri shifted to get between her and Jack. “Who are you? Who do you work for?”

“Rachel. Rachel Morgan,” the woman said as she turned back to the window. “And I don’t work for anyone but myself. That can’t be Detroit. It was destroyed in the Turn.”

She was an independent. Not good. Hired by whoever gave her the most money. “The what?” Peri went to nudge Jack awake, but he only groaned and pushed her away, his face flat against the floor. “You mean the exodus?” she said. “Not everyone left. Those who stayed fixed her.”

“You’re
from
here?” Rachel spun, her eyes wide as she ran her gaze up and down Peri as if impressed. “Oh, my God,” she said suddenly, long hand to her mouth. “That shifting-of-time thing wasn’t a spell. You’re human.”

Peri’s brow furrowed. “What else would I be?”

Rachel suddenly looked vulnerable as she clasped her arms across her middle. “Ah . . .”

Peri shoved Jack again. “Jack, wake up. It’s not funny anymore.”

Rachel sat down on the front edge of a chair. She looked ill in the candlelight. “Son of a bastard,” she whispered. “You summoned me. And you don’t have a clue how you did it. Crap on toast. I can’t kill you
now
.”

Peri toed Jack’s ribs. “Jack. Wake up!”

Rachel’s head rose. “Was it him? Did he summon me?” she said, and Peri put up a warning hand when the woman stood, eyes alight.

“Back off,” Peri warned her, and Rachel hesitated, recognizing Peri’s commitment.

“Sorry,” Rachel said. “I didn’t think I hit him that hard.”

“He’s kind of a wimp,” Peri said, surprised at the flash of a smile from Rachel. “But I don’t think it was you. The wine he brought home packs a wallop.” The accelerator was in her pocket, but she no longer thought the woman was after it. Rachel had felt her draft, and she’d gotten into her apartment somehow; maybe this was an Opti test to see how she and Jack were at finding and bringing in new drafters.
Damn it, Bill. We’re nowhere near ready to retire
.

Rachel reached for the wine. “This is Trent’s label,” she said, lips parted. “His name isn’t on it, but it’s his label.” Her head rose. “This is what you were drinking? Where did you get it?”

“Cincinnati.” Peri didn’t mean to be unhelpful, but that was all she knew.

The woman raised one eyebrow. “Curious,” Rachel said, seeming to find her confidence the more convoluted and mixed-up Peri became. “Okay . . . It’s not Halloween, is it?”

Peri shook her head. “No. It’s the middle of June.”

“Equinox.” Rachel set the bottle down. “Let me guess. You were messing around, summoning a demon. Salt, candles, words of power?”

Peri’s eyes narrowed. “Okay. Fun’s over, Jack,” she said loudly. “Wake up. Time to pay your actor and go to bed.” She stood over him, rolling him over with her foot. There was a red bump on his forehead. Suddenly concerned, she dropped to wedge his eyes open to see if they dilated right.

“I gotta get out of here,” the woman said.

“The door is right there.” Peri reached for her phone. This had gone on long enough, but Opti could pick her up off the street. Jack was fine. He was drunker than a skunk and no help at all, but fine.

The woman strode to the door, hesitating as she opened it and looked out into a bland hallway. “Can I borrow bus fare?” Peri looked up in amazement, and Rachel shrugged. “This dress has absolutely no room for even a card. Besides, Trent won’t let me pay for anything.”

Peri sat back on her heels. “You’re kidding,” she said flatly.

Irritation flashed over Rachel, vanishing when Carnac, drawn by the sound of the door opening, came out from the back room. “Rex!” Rachel cried, scooping the orange tabby up. “Did you get caught up in the circle? Poor kitty.”

Peri slowly rose from Jack, muscles tensing. “Ah, that’s
my
cat.”

“It isn’t,” Rachel said, heading for the open door. “’Bye. Thanks for nothing.”

Lunging after her, Peri grabbed her arm and swung her around. “That’s my cat!” she said, and Carnac leapt from Rachel, skittering out the door and into the hall.

“Look what you did!” Rachel exclaimed, furious. “Jenks is going to kill me. That’s his cat! How am I supposed to find Rex now?”

“I thought you said he was yours,” Peri barked back.

Rachel stood in the hall, frustrated. “It’s complicated,” she said, clearly wanting to leave but not without
her
cat. “I’m in so much trouble,” she said suddenly as she leaned against the hallway wall, head in her hand. “I have no idea when or maybe where I am, and I can’t do anything. Not even light a stupid candle.”

This woman is nuts
, Peri thought, edging back toward her apartment. “Well, maybe there’s a magical door somewhere,” she said, thinking she was going to have to call Bill. He’d want to pick this woman up. See if she was an anchor. Rachel had not only noticed the draft but had realized there were two timelines. Even a crazy anchor had some worth. “Just go walk through it, okay?”

Rachel’s head came up, the depth of her worry giving Peri pause. “I’m telling you, I can’t! It’s like there’re no ley lines.” She stiffened, eyes lighting up. “Hey! Ley lines. I didn’t study Detroit’s lines, because no one lives there. Map. You got a map?”

Anything to get you out of my hallway
, Peri thought, reaching for her phone. “Where do you want to go?”

“To see a map,” Rachel said, and Peri held up a hand to stop her when she came closer.

“Of Detroit, right?” Peri said, opening the app. “Here.”

She handed her phone to Rachel, and the woman took it, her brief confusion vanishing. “Oh, cool,” she said, turning the clear glass phone over to see the picture of Carnac on one side, then flipping it back to marvel that she could see the map when looking the other way. “Ivy would love this. Is it made of glass? How does it work? It’s a spell, right? I can’t feel anything. Maybe it’s me. Did you hit me with one of those joke spells to cut off my access to the lines?”

Absolutely bonkers
, Peri thought, worried the woman was going to try to take her phone. “Anything look familiar?” she asked instead of answering, and Rachel shifted the map around with one thin finger, delighting in it.

“No. But ley lines exert an unseen force. People usually put their important buildings over them. Museums and the like. The demons get a kick out of it. This looks like a good bet,” she said, extending the phone so Peri could look. “See how the roads kind of lead to it?”

Demons?
Peri rocked forward onto her toes, then away. “You’re serious?” she said. “All roads lead to it because it’s a mall.”

“Is that what that says?” Rachel mused, then started when Peri used two fingers to zoom in on it. “My God. That is so cool,” she blurted, then added, “Yeah, demons like shopping as much as anyone else. Al says that’s where bell-bottoms and leisure suits came from. Some kind of joke that went wrong.”

Peri itched to take her phone back, but she didn’t like crazy. Skilled, powerful, dangerously wealthy she could handle. Crazy was different.

“There’s got to be a ley line there,” Rachel said, seemingly buoyed up. “If I can get into it, I can get out of here. Without Mr. Man there on the floor.” She bit her lip, then smiled at Peri. “Thanks for the map.”