Wild Ride (40 page)

“No, no,” Mab said. “I like Delpha's trailer.”

Frankie rasped his approval.

“Besides, we've got nine months before Delphie gets here, so—”

“Delphie?” Glenda's eyes got bright suddenly. “You're going to call her Delphie? Oh, Mab, that's wonderful.”

Mab nodded, moving on before Glenda cried all over her. “I just thought Old Fred's trailer might be nice for . . . guests.”

“Guests.”

“Well, Oliver. He's on our side, and I could use help with the research, and the more people we have here in Dreamland, the safer we'll be, and he's stuck in that B and B in town with the teddy bears on the bed. . . .”

“Of course,” Glenda said, her face straight. “We have to get him out of there. I'll clean out the trailer today, and he can move in tonight.”

“Well, maybe he won't want to,” Mab said.

“He'll want to,” Glenda said, and put her sunglasses back on.

She set offdown the midway, her shoulders swinging, and Mab said to Frankie, “We have to keep her safe. She's finally happy, we have to keep her safe.”

Frankie pushed himself off her shoulder, flapping into the air, and Mab watched him for a moment and then looked back at Glenda, the sun gleaming on the top of her platinum head as she moved across the flagstones, nothing threatening near her—

Mab blinked, suddenly disoriented. She shouldn't be seeing flagstones, she shouldn't be seeing the top of Glenda's head,
she had an aerial view—

Frankie circled around as the world circled around Mab and then swooped down and sat on her shoulder, and the world righted itself.

He moved from foot to foot on her shoulder, very proud of himself.

Mab looked at her bird cautiously. “Okay, I said we had to make sure she was safe, so you went to look for . . . enemies?”

Frankie bobbed his head several times, clearly exhilarated by his excellent work.

“
Good job
, bird,” Mab said, and thought,
There goes any hope of faking normal.

Frankie rubbed his head on her cheek.

“Normal's overrated,” she told him, and went to talk to Vanth.

 

E
than knocked on the door to Ray's RV behind the Dream Cream. He waited several seconds, then knocked again.

“He's probably off buying Satan a slushie.” Weaver drew Ray's Desert Eagle and pointed the massive pistol at the lock. “I'll shoot it off.”

“Hold on a second.” Ethan pulled out the key ring he'd taken off Ray.
He found a small modern key among the old iron ones, slid it in, and turned it. “See. The softer, easier way.”

“Oh yeah, that's you.”

The interior was neat and clean, clearly set up as an office. There was a picture on the wall of Ray in camouflage fatigues with a bunch of guys brandishing their weapons in front of a Blackhawk helicopter in a desert somewhere. The usual
I've been there and done it
thing.

“Let's trash the place,” Weaver said.

“What are you? In college?”

“He's a demon groupie,” Weaver said.

“Let's find the keys. Crystal ball. Trident. Stay on task.”

Weaver began searching, none too gently, and Ethan figured he'd let her vent a bit on Ray's stuff. The trailer wasn't very big, and there weren't many places to hide things, so it only took Ethan five minutes to find a locked gun box inside the cover of the window air conditioner.

“Let me,” Weaver said.

Ethan put it on the desk, and using the butt of the Desert Eagle, Weaver smashed it open, narrowly missing the six-inch glass ball that was inside.

“That's Vanth's crystal key,” Ethan said. “Where's the trident?”

The door to the trailer swung open, and Ray stepped inside.
“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Where's the trident?” Ethan asked.

“This is my trailer,”
Ray snapped. “This is my
office
. You have
no right
to be in my office.
I'm calling the police
—”

“Like you'd bring the cops in here,” Weaver said. “Besides—” She flashed her badge. “—I am the cops.”

“Not anymore. I'm calling your boss and having you fired,” Ray said.

“Where's the trident?” Ethan repeated.

Ray looked at him with loathing. “Fuck off, you're way out of your league.”

Ethan held up the ball. “We got this, Ray. Whatever you're planning, it isn't working.”

“Get out,” Ray said. “And
stay out.
”

Ethan led the way out the door, Weaver reluctantly behind him, as Ray slammed the door practically on her heel.

“What the hell?” she demanded as they walked away from the trailer. “He's got the damn trident.”

“It's his ace in the hole, and he's keeping it close,” Ethan agreed. “But it's not in the trailer, his eyes didn't go anywhere when I asked where it was, and he's not going to tell us where, so keeping at him would be a waste of time.”

“We could torture him and find out.”

“Torture doesn't work.”

“You're just going to let him do his thing?”

“No,” Ethan said. “I'm going to destroy him. But remember what Glenda said, if we get rid of him now, Kharos finds somebody else to work with that we don't know about.”

“Something stinks about all this,” Weaver said.

“Yeah. Ray. I'll take care of him after Halloween.” He hefted the crystal ball in his hand. “I'm going to go find a ladder and pick up Vanth. You coming?”

“Can't,” Weaver said. “I have to report to Ursula.” She frowned. “I've been thinking. Is it possible she and Ray knew each other before last night? Because somebody here in Dreamland has been giving her information, good information, that Oliver and I aren't passing to her.”

“Anything's possible,” Ethan said. “This is Dreamland.”

Then he headed off to stick a crystal ball on top of an Oracle tent so he could retrieve a demon and put it in the Keep.

 

M
ab stopped in front of the Fortune-Telling Machine. The glass was like crystal now, and she could see Vanth sitting inside, very lifelike.

She stepped closer to the glass. “Are you my mother?”

WHAT
?

“My mother. My human mother thought I was a demon. Where were you thirty-nine, no, forty years ago on Halloween night? Did you possess my mother?”

The machine was silent for a long time, and Mab thought,
Don't you dare stonewall me
, and kicked the carefully painted front. “
Talk to me
. I need to know this. I'm in trouble, and I need to know—”

DON'T KICK THE BOOTH.

“The booth? The
hell
with the booth, I want to know what you did forty years ago!” Mab pounded on the glass, suddenly upset, another mother ignoring her, another mother rejecting her. “Are you my mother? Are you? Answer me!” She raised her fist to pound again and then caught sight of her reflection.

Glowing blue eyes.

YOUR EYES.

“I know,” Mab said. “I don't know what it means.”

IT MEANS YOU'RE MINE. HOW?

“I don't know,” Mab said, her anguish suddenly chilled. “I don't even know for sure that you—”

FORTY YEARS AGO. THAT LONG? IT WAS ME. IT WAS US. WE'D BEEN TRAPPED FOR SO LONG, AND WE WERE OUT, AND WE SAW THEM GO INTO THE TUNNEL OF LOVE ARGUING, AND I SAID, “THEM” AND HE LAUGHED AND WE TOOK THEM AND IT WAS GLORIOUS
—

“Too much information,” Mab said, stepping back.

—
AND THEN WE MADE YOU! WE NEVER IMAGINED. IT'S A MIRACLE!

“Okay,” Mab said, not sure how to take a Fortune-Telling Machine that was suddenly claiming her as its own. This was what she wanted, but . . .

Maybe she should have thought this through.
She feeds on love
, Glenda had said.

OH, DARLING, I'M SO HAPPY
.

“Good,” Mab said, really uneasy now.

YOU ARE NOT THAT MISERABLE LITTLE WOMAN'S DAUGHTER. YOU'RE
MINE
.

“Actually, I'm all grown up now,” Mab said, taking a step back. “Really probably don't even need a mother—”

WE HAVE SO MUCH TO
TALK
ABOUT.

“Well, that's certainly true,” Mab said.

I'M JUST SO HAPPY YOU'RE
OURS
. . . .

“Okay, about the ‘ours,' ” Mab said. “That would be you and Kharos.”

OF COURSE, DARLING. HE'LL BE SO THRILLED WHEN HE FINDS OUT.

“So I'm the daughter of the Devil,” Mab said, confronting what had been haunting her since she'd talked with Oliver.

ISN'T IT WONDERFUL?

“Fabulous,” Mab said.

SO NOW YOU'LL LET US OUT.

“I can't.” Mab took another step back. “I'm sorry, but Kharos kills people.”

HE GETS TENSE. WE'VE BEEN LOCKED UP A LONG TIME.

“I know, and that's rough,” Mab said, trying to see it from the demon point of view. “But he kills people. So does Tura.”

TURA HAS NO SELF-CONTROL.

“Well, demon,” Mab pointed out.

LET US OUT, DARLING, AND WE'LL BE A FAMILY!

“I can't,” Mab said. “I'm Guardia. I'm sworn to keep you locked up.”

YOU'RE PUTTING CAREER OVER FAMILY?

“I sort of live for my work,” Mab said. “Look what a nice job I did on your machine.”

MY PRISON
.

“Don't play the guilt card. I have enough emotional baggage already just from Fufluns.”

WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU?

“Seduced me—”

I'VE HEARD HE'S A VERY GOOD TIME.

“—and knocked me up,” Mab said.

YOU'RE HAVING A BABY?

“Evidently.”

THAT'S WONDERFUL! AND WE'LL ALL BE TOGETHER! LET US OUT!

“Okay, look, that's not happening. I will bring the baby by in nine months so you can see—”

NO! LET US OUT!

Mab took a step back. The glass appeared to be steaming up. “Vanth—”

MOTHER!

“Mother, try to stay calm.”

I AM CALM! MY DAUGHTER IS KEEPING ME A PRISONER IN A FORTUNE-TELLING MACHINE!

“Okay, that's something we should put on cards,” Mab said. “Come on, you've been in there for almost a century. I'm not respons—”

LET US OUT
.

“No,” Mab said, and walked farther away before the machine melted or shattered or did whatever demon cells did when their contents went rogue. The box rocked a little, but basically, as long as Vanth was locked inside the Fortune-Teller, she was stuck.

Of course, if anybody ever let her out . . .

Frankie spiraled down to sit on her shoulder.

“I think I just made a tactical error,” she told him.

He cawed, and she saw Ethan coming toward her, carrying a ladder.

“We got the key,” Ethan said. “I'm taking Vanth.”

“Be careful,” Mab said. “She's not happy.”

He climbed up and put the ball on the peak of the Delpha's Oracle roof with an audible click, and then turned it.

Inside the Fortune-Telling Machine, the rear part of Vanth's statue rotated open, banging into the back of the booth.

YOU'RE LETTING US OUT? OH, THANK YOU!

“No, no,” Mab said as Ethan climbed down and came back and opened the rear of the machine, reached into the statue, and removed the chalice. “We're just moving you to a safer place.”

“Who are you talking to?” Ethan asked.

“Vanth,” Mab said. “My mother, the demon.”

“What?”

“The demon eyes we have? It's from a conception possession. Vanth is my mother. Well, one of them. And guess who I inherited the angry red eyes from.”

“You can talk to her?” he asked, holding the chalice securely.

“Yeah. I can hear her voice in my head.”

Ethan looked over his shoulder at the Devil's Drop, and she knew what he was thinking.

“You going to go have a word with Dad? Such a bad idea,” Mab said as he stepped back onto the midway in the direction of the Keep. “Hey!”

“What?” Ethan said.

“We have the same damned father. Delpha said you were my brother, but I didn't think she meant literally—”

“Delpha was never wrong,” Ethan said.

They stared at each for a moment, perplexed by their newfound siblinghood.

“So we're the Luke and Leia of hell,” Mab said. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

Ethan held up the chalice. “I should take this to the Keep. I've still got to pick up Selvans.”

WHAT'S GOING ON? WHAT IS HE TALKING ABOUT?

“Absolutely nothing, Mom,” Mab said, and watched her brother carry off her mother in a wooden cup.

Then she opened her work bag, took out the broken chalice lid, and began to repair the prison for her daughter's father.

 

L
ater that evening, Ethan followed Gus on his walk along the maintenance track of the Dragon, hooked to the outer railing by a safety line. He tapped on the rails every twenty feet or so with a wooden hammer to make sure the structure was sound, putting his good ear just over the track. Despite his age and arthritis, Gus could pull himself up even the steepest incline of the coaster.

They reached the top and looked out over the park. There was a low fog on the river, and the trees had lost all their leaves, giving the land a barren appearance. Gray clouds hung low over the land, and a stiff breeze added to the cold. The light on top of the Devil's Drop was slightly above their level, flashing in the early evening. Ethan felt a chill.