Shadow's Blade, page 17
“Come here,” he said, the words reverberating in my mind.
I started toward him, unable to resist.
“Make him stop,” Gracie said from behind me, “or I swear to God, I’ll kill him before he gets to you.”
I didn’t have to see her to know that she had the Ruger aimed at me, which was good because I couldn’t have turned even if I wanted to. Fitzwater’s control on me was complete. I tried to cast a warding around my mind, as Namid had taught me, but my spells were no match for those of this silver-haired nightmare.
“And why should I care if you do?” he asked.
“Because then I’ll have access to his blood, too.”
I had covered about half the distance between us when Fitzwater held up a hand, stopping me. I stood utterly still, unable to do more, feeling weak and pissed at myself for still not knowing how to defeat these damn spells.
“What do you propose, Gracie? Are you prepared to surrender yourself to me? Are you willing to tell me where it is? You know that we don’t want to hurt you, or your children. We want you to join us, and we want what is rightfully ours. Come back with us, and all is forgiven. I’ll even let your friend here live.”
“You don’t want to hurt us. You want to enslave us.”
“What an ugly thing to say.”
“Get out of here,” Gracie said. “And don’t come near us again.”
Fitzwater shook his head. He was staring past me at Gracie, his eyes narrowed, and now he smiled again, though his charm had long since vanished. “I don’t think you’re going to shoot him at all. Even if you were capable of such a thing, he’s probably warded, as you were earlier when James fired that dart at you.”
He beckoned me forward with a waggle of his fingers. Helpless to do anything else, I started toward him again. I expected a bullet in the back of the skull at any moment, but maybe Fitzwater knew Gracie better than I did. She didn’t fire.
Silver-hair ordered me to stop once I was beside him, but he didn’t go for my blood right away. Apparently he thought I was more important to Gracie than she was letting on.
“Last chance, Gracie. Come with me quietly, by your own volition, or allow Mister Fearsson to die, and come with me anyway. It’s your choice, but my patience wears thin.”
I couldn’t move—not my hands or my legs. I couldn’t use my Glock to blow the bastard’s head off. I couldn’t even speak, and I’m not sure I would have known what to say if I could. But I could move my eyes—that had always been the case with these spells. For some reason I could direct them where I needed to.
And right now that meant looking down at the gouges I’d made in the skin of my forearm. They were bloody again. There wasn’t much, but the scratches had darkened as blood seeped into the rough channels. And I didn’t need a lot.
Namid was going to be really ticked at me.
Seven elements this time. Fitzwater, me, his control spell, my mind, a shield around it, Gracie and her kids, who needed me to break free, and the blood on my arm. I knew that a blood spell could defeat a control spell; I’d done this once before, although not against a weremancer as accomplished and powerful as Fitzwater.
As soon as I released the magic building inside me, he whipped his gaze around.
“What are you doing?”
He reached for me, and I jerked away from him. I didn’t have full control of my body, not yet. But I had won enough freedom for myself to stagger away, putting a bit of distance between us.
His hand brushed the front of my shirt, but nothing more. He didn’t touch me, which, I was sure, saved my life.
“No!” He growled the word, his face contorting.
And I felt what remained of his control spell give way. I could move again.
My first impulse was to punch him in the face, or kick him in the groin. But I knew better than to give him any opportunity to grab hold of me. The man took the phrase “death grip” to a whole other level.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t incapacitate him. Three elements: my foot, the fine red dirt covering the desert floor, his eyes. My casting was as immediate as thought. A spray of dust kicked up from the ground in front of him, coating his shirt and jacket, dirtying his face.
He let out a strangled cry, his hands covering his eyes a second too late. Emboldened, I stepped toward and threw one punch. I didn’t dare hit him anywhere near his hands, and I certainly didn’t want to bloody him. So I hit him in the throat. Hard.
He went down in a heap. For good measure, I kicked him in the side, then danced away so that he couldn’t grab my leg. I’m not sure I needed to. For the moment, he didn’t seem to be a threat to anyone.
A spell surged past me and the helicopter pilot fell back, rolled a few feet down the hillside and slammed into a large rock at the base of a saguaro cactus.
I glanced back at Gracie.
“I think he was going for a knife.”
“Thanks,” I said. I retrieved the rifle from where the dead security man lay and aimed it at James, the other security guy. “Take him and go,” I said, pointing at Fitzwater. “You might want to avoid letting him touch you. And put down your weapon. You won’t be taking that with you.”
“What did he do to Mike?” he asked, placing his pistol on the ground.
“Ask him.”
“I’m asking you.”
I hesitated before deciding that telling the guy might pay dividends in the future. “You ever cast with blood?”
His cheeks reddened, but he held my gaze. “Yeah, some.”
“Well that’s what he did, but he doesn’t need to cut someone open to do it. He used magic to suck most of the blood out of your friend.”
“With his hand?”
“That’s right. For a spell that was supposed to control all four of us. Back away from the pistol.” He glanced at the rifle I still had aimed at his heart, and took several steps back. I grabbed the weapon off the ground and gestured for Gracie and the kids to come back down the hillside.
“We’re getting in our truck now,” I said. “And we’re leaving. You can try to stop us, but I think you know we’re both more powerful than you are. Together we could rip your head off.”
He swallowed, nodded.
I took Zach’s hand again, and the four of us hurried down to my dad’s truck, giving the pilot a wide berth, though it seemed Gracie’s spell had knocked him out cold.
I slowed as we neared the truck, my eyes on the chopper.
“What’s the matter?” Gracie asked, voice still tight.
“I’d like to disable that chopper, but I’m not sure how to do it.”
“Maybe this’ll work.”
Magic sang in the air around us and one of the rotors twisted downward with a groan of metal and then a splintering of composite. When she was done, the blade had a ninety-degree bend in it.
I wasn’t sure how she had cast the spell, or where she’d gotten the power to do such a thing, but those questions could wait. “Yeah,” I said. “That should do it.”
She nodded, but I saw sweat on her brow and upper lip where there had been none a moment before. She started toward the truck again, her first step a little unsteady.
“You all right?”
“Fine. Where are we going?” She helped Emmy and Zach pile into the pickup.
“The road’s one way,” I said, tossing the weapons I’d taken into the truck, in the space behind the seat. “So we’ll complete the loop, pack up our sites, and get the hell out of here.”
I started the truck, threw it into gear, and peeled away with a splatter of dirt and gravel.
“You know, I was doing fine here until you showed up,” Gracie said, glaring at me from the far side of the cab. “Where the hell did you go yesterday? For all I know, they followed you back here.”
“Yeah, for all you know, which isn’t a whole hell of a lot. It’s just as possible that they would have found you regardless. And if I hadn’t been here, they’d have taken you, or killed you.”
“Whatever. Why don’t you drop of us back at our site and go back to Phoenix? We don’t need your help. We don’t want your help. I can keep my kids safe without you.”
I swallowed the first response that came to mind. Kids this young shouldn’t be exposed to that kind of language.
I eyed the rearview and side mirrors, checking the sky for any sign of a second copter. I didn’t hear rotors, at least not yet. But by now I was sure one of our pursuers had radioed for help. I should have done something to the instrumentation. I had no reason to care about James, the other security guy, but I found myself hoping that Fitzwater didn’t use the opportunity to drain him, too.
I chanced a look at Emmy and Zach. “Kids, how are you doing?”
Emmy shrugged and said nothing.
“I’m hungry,” Zach said, the sullen tone a match for his expression. If it wasn’t for the zebra in his arms, he probably would have melted down already.
“Yeah, so am I.”
Gracie fished around in the backpack she’d tucked behind the seat back at the campground, and pulled out a handful of granola bars and a water bottle.
She handed a bar to each kid, and, after a moment’s pause, held one out for me. I eyed it, eyed her, then took it.
“Thanks.”
I’d never liked the sweet bars, but at that moment I would have been happy with Twinkies. The water made its way down to me and I took a few sips.
“You sure they can’t fly that thing with only four blades?” Gracie asked.
“Pretty sure.”
I saw some of the tension drain from her neck and shoulders.
“But they’ll be calling for reinforcements. I don’t imagine that Fitzwater gives up that easily.”
She looked up at the sky. “No, he doesn’t.”
“This is the first place they’ll look.”
She twisted around and I could tell she was about to lay into me again.
“I’m sorry,” I said before she could open her mouth. “You didn’t need me telling you that.”
The anger drained from her eyes, and her entire body appeared to sag. I had a feeling that rage had been the only thing keeping her going.
“I don’t know where else to hide,” she said, her voice flat.
“Maybe it’s time to hit a city. L.A. might work, or Vegas.”
She shook her head. “Cities make me nuts. And with the phasing coming, I’d rather not be in a hotel or on a friend’s couch.”
I understood that.
I stared out at the road, wondering if she was right; had I really led Fitzwater and his pals to them? “I didn’t think I was followed,” I said, my voice low. “I’ve taken a lot of precautions the last few days. This isn’t even my car.”
“You stole it?” Emmy asked, turning wide eyes on me.
Gracie let out a snort of laughter.
“No, I borrowed it.”
Emmy’s smirk conveyed such skepticism that I had to laugh, too.
“Seriously, it’s my dad’s.”
“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “I thought stealing cars was a weremyste thing.”
I glanced at Gracie, who shook her head.
“Long story.” Her smile faded. “I shouldn’t have said that before, about you leading them to us. I don’t know that, and the truth is you’re probably right. They would have found us anyway. They’re going to find us no matter where we go.”
“Not necessarily. If you can keep moving—”
The laugh that escaped her was devoid of all humor. “Right. That’s some way to grow up. Endlessly on the run.”
“Not endlessly. Just until we figure out a way to beat them.”
She opened her mouth to say more. Both kids were watching her, though, and upon seeing this she clamped her mouth shut again. But I knew exactly what she was going to say. They can’t be beaten.
“Actually, they can be,” I said, responding to the unspoken words. “I’ve done it before.”
“Yeah? When was that?”
“You ever heard of the Blind Angel Killer?”
CHAPTER 13
Gracie didn’t respond right away. She was watching me, her mouth open in a small “o.” Her expression reminded me of one I saw on Billie’s face on those rare occasions when I managed to surprise her.
“That was you,” she said in a breathy whisper.
“What was him?” Emmy asked.
“Mister Fearsson—”
“Jay, please. I really don’t like being called Mister Fearsson.”
“That old man called you Mister Fearsson,” Zach said.
I laughed. “You’re right, Zach, he did. I don’t like him either.”
Gracie regarded me for several seconds. “All right, Jay it is. Jay here is a bit of a hero. He managed to . . . to catch a man who had been doing some terrible things to people in Phoenix.”
Emmy faced me. “What terrible things?”
I glanced past her to Gracie, wondering how much to say.
“He was killing people, sweetie,” Gracie said. “And apparently he was using magic to do it.”
“That’s right.”
Gracie’s cheeks had lost some of their color. “I had no idea.”
“The police kept that pretty quiet. Some people know.” I thought of Amaya. And Saorla. “But it’s not general knowledge.”
“So he’s in jail now?” Emmy asked.
I faced forward again, feeling a sudden need to keep my eyes on the road.
Which, of course, left it to Gracie to tell my lie. “Yes, he’s in jail.”
Emmy eyed us both before giving a little shake of her head “No, he’s not.” To me she said, “He’s dead isn’t he?”
Smart kid. Thinking about it, I realized that I should have waited until Gracie and I were alone to mention Cahors. I had a lot to learn about being around kids.
“Is he dead?” Emmy asked, sounding less certain, and more afraid.
Gracie and I exchanged another look.
“It’s all right,” she said.
“Yeah, he’s dead.”
“Did you kill him?”
“I had some help, but yes I did. And while it’s a terrible thing to kill someone, given the chance I’d do it again. He was a bad man.”
“Who else have you killed?” Zach asked.
This was not a conversation I wanted to have with anyone, much less a five-year-old kid. Fortunately, his mom stepped in.
“That’s not an appropriate question, Zach.”
He frowned, but said, “Sorry.”
“That’s all right. It’s not something I like to talk about, okay?”
He nodded, and for several moments no one said a word. A dry wind blew through the windows and the crunch of gravel and squeak of my father’s truck filled the cab.
“Did you kill him with that gun?” Zach asked, breaking the silence.
“Zach!” Gracie sounded mortified.
“I was just wondering!”
“Hey, there’s a coyote.” The timing couldn’t have been better, and I didn’t even have to lie this time. I pointed out the front at a coyote slinking along the top of a low ridge, weaving among the saguaro trunks.
“Where? I don’t see it.”
Gracie spotted it right away and pointed it out to both kids. I slowed, then stopped to be sure they both saw it. I even gave those old binoculars back to Zach.
While they watched it, I checked the sky again. No sign of another chopper.
Once the coyote disappeared from view, I got us moving again. The conversation careened all over the place, which I imagine is normal where five and eight year olds are concerned, but it steered clear of the Blind Angel Killings.
At the end of Ajo Mountain Drive, I turned onto the main park road and headed back to the campground. As we neared the campground loop, though, I saw a white and blue highway patrol SUV with its lights flashing. It was parked outside the ranger station near the campground payment kiosk.
“Damn!”
“Bad word!” Emmy said. “You owe us a quarter, Jay. Each of us.”
I didn’t answer.
“You think they’re here for us?” Gracie asked.
“Call it a hunch. I wouldn’t be surprised if they got a tip from some anonymous concerned citizen. You are wanted, after all.”
“As if I needed the reminder. So what the—” She glanced at the kids and apparently decided she didn’t want to lose any more quarters. “What are we supposed to do?”
“I’m afraid that if we go near the campsites, we’ll be arrested.”
“We? What did you do?”
“I’m with you; they’ll assume I’ve been helping you. Which makes me an accessory after the fact.”
She blew out a breath and pushed a hand through her hair. “I hadn’t thought of that. I’m sorry.”
“I knew what I was doing when I came here.”
She dipped her chin, but I could see that her thoughts had already turned elsewhere. “All our stuff is at the site. Including the minivan.”
“They’ll impound the van. It was spotted at the scene of a crime. And they’ll probably take the rest as well.” I checked my mirrors and scanned the area for additional police cruisers or cops on foot. We didn’t need any more surprises. “Is there anything there you can’t live without?”
Emmy peered up at her mom and pointed at Zach, shielding her hand with her body so that her brother wouldn’t see.
Gracie closed her eyes and sighed. “Yes, a couple of things. Nothing I want to name right now, but leaving without them could . . . make things unpleasant.”
I had an idea of what she meant. As a kid, I’d never been particularly attached to my blanket, but Zach had mentioned his earlier, and it seemed important to him.
“All right,” I said. “I have an idea. You know transporting spells, right?”
A smile creased Gracie’s face, the first one I’d seen that wasn’t tinged with fear or anger, weariness or irony. This was pure smile, and it transformed her face. I’d already known she was pretty; any fool could see that. But when she smiled like that, she was beautiful.
I looked away, made a point of checking the mirrors again.
“That’s brilliant,” she said. “But at this distance . . .”
