Dweller on the Threshold (17 page)

Blythe was a thief’s wet dream.

She swung the door open and pointed. “Put your hand on it.”

I didn’t hesitate because I really, really wanted to touch it. I wanted to run my fingers over the smooth bone of the handle and place my fingertips on the ruby. When I did, a low vibrating hum sounded in my ears. Yanking my hand back, I quickly glanced at Blythe to see if she’d heard it.

She was nodding, a funny little smile on her face. “It’s yours.”

“I’ll buy it.” I knew it would be expensive. I didn’t care now that I’d touched it.

“No.” Something in her tone made me narrow my eyes. She reached up and slid her fingers under the handle.

“Seriously. What’s the price, Blythe?”

She snatched the knife off the wall and whipped the blade through the air less than an inch from my face. She stood on her toes and glared at me. “There. Is. No. Price. This blade isn’t for sale.”

Stunned, my stomach did this funny flip-flop. I couldn’t decide whether to be pissed or amused. “I can’t believe you did that.” I stepped closer and put my hand over hers so she didn’t try it again. “That was no unskilled move, witch. Is the ditsy blonde thing an act?”

Blythe blinked long eyelashes. “What ditsy blonde thing?”

I grinned. Then laughed. “You’re an interesting bundle of contradictions, know that?”

She nodded.

Still laughing, I took the knife. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

“Me neither.”

The knife felt alive. Its power rumbled in my bones. Wrapping my fingers around it, I marveled at how the grooves and curves fit my hand perfectly. “Tell me why it isn’t for sale.”

“My mother and I made that athame together. It was the first one we created.”

My stomach fell. The sadness to her tone ripped into me. Shaking my head, I gently placed the knife back on its holder in the case. “I can’t take something that precious to you.”

“But you can. It never imprinted on me. That hum you heard? It was obviously meant for you. Besides, it’s red.”

Okay, that one I didn’t get. I waited for her to expound on this red thing, but she just stood there looking tired in Elsa’s droopy sweat suit, dark circles under her eyes. “I give. What’s wrong with red?”

“Remember me talking about Sophie? My mentor?” She continued when I nodded. “When my mother first sent me to her, I was only twelve. Sophie became like a real mother when my own was killed a year later. She forbade me to wear red since it could connect me to the energy of fire.”

Again, I felt that twinge that told me Sophie wasn’t all Blythe made her out to be. “You know, Blythe, I can’t help but wonder if Sophie has been teaching you to hold back.”

“Oh no. I’m just not very good. I think that’s why my store has failed. I’m just not that powerful.”

I stepped close and put my hands on her shoulders, then let my senses completely open. I didn’t usually do this because sometimes I got nasty shocks. This time I’d been so closed off because of all my pent up emotion for my sister, the release was like someone taking a wrecking ball to a dam. Walls crumbled and I gasped as all the negative energy from the ghoul and what he’d done to the store, as well as Blythe’s emotion from thoughts of her mother crashed over me. Blythe’s power… it was something else. The electrical surge felt like it was going to take my hands off. I jumped back and rubbed my stinging palms on my jeans. Like that would help. “Did you feel that zap?”

She bit her lip, eyes once again wide.

“You shouldn’t be able to feel that at all. For me, it’s like grabbing an electric fence. I’m a good judge of power and believe me, you have it in spades. I can almost guarantee you out-power that mentor of yours. For some reason, she’s taught you to hold it back. Have you ever thought that instead of going out of your way to work against fire, you should maybe learn to work with it? What if you’re a fire witch and everything you do is extra hard because you aren’t tapping into the right element?”

Blythe backed farther away from me. “No, I’m an earth witch. Sophie did this test when I was young. She said I was a low earth witch and that my problem with fire came from my lack of control and confidence.”

It was official. Sophie was a shit. “What if you’re both? Earth and Fire?”

“Only male witches can be both.”

“What? That’s bull. Who told you that? Wait.” I growled, holding up my hand. “Don’t tell me. Sophie.”

Blythe tightened her lips and reached up to yank the jeweled athame off the holder again. She slapped it into my outstretched palm. “I didn’t know you were such an expert on witches, Beri.”

 
I sighed. “I was two years old when some tourists found me next to a dead alligator in the middle of the Big Cypress Swamp. I had blood on my hands. What kind of two-year-old kills an alligator with her bare hands, eh? So, I started investigating creatures and magic early. I’ve been at this a long time. You pick up a few things.”

“Not that much, or you would have known what kind of knife that is.”

I smiled. “Guess I pay more attention to things that breathe.”

She still wouldn’t meet my eyes. She shuffled the point of one peach shoe back and forth on the floor. I found myself thankful that we didn’t have the mix of spilled herbs back here. I could still smell them from the front of the store. Pungent—sage, cloves and something sharper, darker. She finally sighed and offered me a sweet smile. “I really do want you to have the knife. I can tell it’s supposed to be yours, which means our meeting was preordained. And red signifies more than just fire. It’s also the color of blood. It’s vital and can help you focus on survival when you come upon more of the Dweller Demons. It helps to keep you from being afraid.”

There was no hesitation in her gift, so I accepted it. “Thanks. I’ll take good care of it. Promise.” I eyed the length of the blade.
Where the hell was I going to put this thing?
One just did not go parading around the city with a knife like this dangling from their belt.

Phro must have figured out what I was thinking. She disappeared and reappeared next to Blythe. “Stick it down the back of your pants. Have the twit spell it so it’s dull until whipped out.”

Blythe’s nostrils flared. She turned toward Phro and put her hands on her hips. “I’ve told you I can hear you. Do you think it’s funny to call people names?”

“Yeah.”

Blythe sputtered, then rolled her eyes. “Forget it.” She walked toward the room behind the counter. “I can lift the book, but it’s too heavy to carry all the way to your Jeep. We might need a push cart or something. Oh, and I have a couple of special-sized sheathes that might work. One even has a pretty pink drawstring.”

I buried my face in my hands as Phro and Fred laughed. Like a drawstring made sense when you needed to whip out your weapon. But she was being sweet and generous, so I held my tongue. I looked at the athame again and sighed. It really was pretty. I didn’t usually give a flying leap about pretty but this also sported a wickedly sharp blade, so it was cool.

 
I followed Blythe into the back room to help with the book. She hadn’t realized I could carry it.

We grabbed McDonald’s biscuits on the way. I expected Blythe to reject even the mention of fast food, but she didn’t say anything other than “egg, bacon and cheese.” I got us each one in the meal deal and hit the coffee first thing. Fast food coffee was always wonderfully strong. The hot, acidic slide of it down my throat made me sigh with pleasure.

Blythe was right. The book was damned heavy. It was also wrapped tightly in a deep purple cloth. I’d wanted to open it and take a good look, but instead had placed it on the back seat. Since I planned to break into Nikolos’s store, I needed to get a move on. Wanted to snoop without his distracting presence. Maybe find his last name and home address.
Maybe find some other, more interesting things.
The more I thought about those trapped souls around him, the more suspicious I became.

I held the biscuit with my right hand and steered with the left. I enjoyed this early hour drive much more than I had the last one. This time, with the sun barely breaking the surface of the horizon, a soft haze filtered everything. Didn’t matter how icky certain parts of the city were, that kind of fuzzy morning light washed it all pretty.

Taking a bite of the warm biscuit, I relished the salty bacon flavor and glanced over to see that Blythe had already eaten most of hers. The witch had her eyes closed and was obviously enjoying the food. I made a mental note to make sure we ate a little more often.

It didn’t take long to find Labyrinth Antiques. We’d brought along Blythe’s phone book, and Nikolos had a nice, fat ad in the yellow pages. One with a small map in the corner.

“Nice place,” I said after swallowing the last bite of egg. I drove past and took a good look at it. It had a faint Spanish colonial feel with its adobe brick and flat, dark orange-tile roof. Not what I would have expected from the man, but he probably rented the space.

Luckily, it was too early for most of the local places to be open so hopefully no one would see us break in. But I didn’t want to leave my bullseye-red Jeep anywhere close either. I found an open grocery store down the street, so we parked there. Before we got out, I wiped my hands on a paper napkin and glanced into the rearview mirror at Frida. He was sitting a little straighter, and though his eyes were on Phro as usual, they didn’t have the flickering hostility of earlier. Good.

I turned to Blythe. “I’m breaking in. You have a problem with that?”

“Why can’t we just wait for him to let us in?” She crumpled her own napkin and placed it daintily in her bag.

“Because I don’t trust him. Do you?”

She shrugged. “Kind of. I shouldn’t. Not with that aura of his, but for some reason I do. I have a sense about people usually and I think he’s one of those really good, hero types. He just seems really, really sad.”

Anyone would, carrying the kind of baggage he had. I chewed my lower lip, stared at the people going in and out of the grocery store. People going about their normal, everyday lives—most ignorant of the undercurrent of danger permeating the air. I felt it as strongly as I had before Elsa called me that last time. It had only been a couple of days, but it seemed like forever since I’d agreed to come up here.

“Why do you think he took off like that last night?” Blythe asked.

Again, I saw his last expression. Goddess, even the memory of it ripped into my guts. Something about the ankhs, obviously. He and I had a connection, and I was certain he knew more than he let on. “Phro told me he’s thousands of years old.”

Blythe blinked, her mouth falling open. “But the only creatures that old are vampires and elves.”

“And demons.”

“You think he’s a demon?” She shook her head—hugged her bag tighter to her chest. “No, he’s dark and he has something wrong or his aura wouldn’t be smudged like it is, but I don’t think he’s a demon.”

“I was just saying they’re old, too—never mind.” I grabbed my coffee and swallowed the last bit—grimacing at the cold, bitter flavor. “You heard him ask why we traveled with the Goddess of Love?”

She nodded, her lips twitching. “I did. I don’t believe it. She’s too rude.”

Phro made kissy noises from the backseat.

We both ignored her.

“She’s been telling me that’s who she is for years, but I didn’t really believe her. Seriously, why would the Goddess of Love hang out with someone like me? But she’s been right about a lot of things and I think she’s right about this. She said Nikolos was a warrior on Crete, a famous, bloodthirsty murderer.”

“No. I don’t believe that.”

“It’s certainly possible. Been a long time, and people can change.”

“If he’s been alive that long, he’s not a person. But—”

I waited when she broke off. “But what?”

“He’s like you.”
 

I nodded. “Somehow he is. I think so, too.”

Someone honked and we both jumped. Blythe laughed nervously. “We might as well get this over with.”

Grinning, I stepped from the Jeep and locked it. I adjusted my floppy, black hat and opened the back door to heft the book into my arms. The wound on my arm complained with the movement, but not nearly as much as I’d expected. Seems Blythe had a knack with healing.

“You plan to break in with that?” Blythe stopped beside me and pushed up one gray sleeve.

“You really think that ghoul is the only thing looking for it?”

 
She didn’t answer, just started walking. I had to carry the damned thing with both arms—it was that heavy. I was dying to see what kind of information it held. A lot of magic books had sturdy covers to help protect the precious pages inside, but this one felt over an inch thick. I felt the shape of a tie holding it closed. Probably leather.

Sweat broke out over my back as the sun rose. Traffic was already picking up and for an instant I wished for salty air and the sound of an ocean instead of greasy exhaust and rumbling engines. I could, however, smell something faintly yeasty, like doughnuts. My mouth watered. Should have eaten two biscuits.

Nikolos’s store stood a little ways from the three around it. His was one story while two of the others were several, so they threw shadows into the alley that linked the stores together. I sighed with relief when we walked into those shadows. It wasn’t that the sun was that hot yet, but I still had on the jacket and carrying the heavy book took some effort.