Scarlett Undercover (17 page)

B
eing knocked out was bad. Coming to was worse. White-hot daggers of pain exploded up from the base of my skull. My body was heavy as lead. Just thinking about opening my eyes took more out of me than I had.

“Scarlett?” a woman whispered from a million miles away. “Scarlett! Wake up!”

Somewhere inside my haze, part of me recognized the voice.

“Nuala?” I managed to say.

“Stay quiet, or they’ll hear you!”

I peeled my eyelids up, clamped them back tight
against the glare of the construction bulbs around us. My shoulder ached against the cold concrete floor. Behind me, my bad wrist throbbed in time with my heart. I tried to pull it forward. Tried to pull my good one forward, too, but it was no use; I was trussed up tighter than a Thanksgiving turkey.

“Open your eyes,” Nuala whispered. “Quick now, before they come back.”

I squinted just wide enough to see that she was sitting on the floor next to me, still lovely, even with wild hair and grime-streaked cheeks. There was a support column at her back. Her hands were bound in her lap.

“There’s a girl,” she said. “Wake up, now.”

My pupils struggled to adjust. I remembered the dogs. Fought back a fresh round of nausea.

“Listen, Scarlett, we have to be quick. You’re in the basement of The Parker, and you’ve been unconscious nearly twenty minutes. Your hands are tied behind your back, but your legs are free. The Children of Iblis are down here with us. Two women, two men, and a teenage boy. One of them is a policeman.”

Emmet
. Sorrow raked my heart.

“They’re wiring the place with explosives,” she went
on. “From what I can tell, they think some bloke named George Fagin has Solomon’s ring, and they believe you know where he is. They’re going to make you tell them everything. And unless they get the ring, they’ll blow the building up with us inside.”

“They can’t have it.” My voice was a bare whisper.

“What’s that?”

“They can’t have the ring.”

Her eyes widened. “You know where it is?”

I nodded until a fresh slice of pain made me stop.

“Scarlett, your little girl’s here,” Nuala said.

“Gemma—please tell me she’s okay.…”

“She’s on the ground five feet behind you,” Nuala said. “If you don’t tell them where Fagin is, she’ll die with us. And they’ll go after your sister, too.”

I heard Gemma’s muffled whimper. Asked Nuala what had happened in the garage.

“They attacked as soon as I came out of the hospital,” she said. “But that’s not important now. You have to tell these people where the ring is.”

“I don’t have to tell them anything,” I said, starting to work my wrists back and forth against whatever held them. “I don’t need to.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I have it. Here, with me.”

Her face went rigid. The gold around her irises flashed in the naked light.

“You
brought
it?”

“Yeah,” I said, remembering not to nod.

“My God, child, how could you? If they get their hands on that ring there’ll be no stopping them. They’ll restore their own powers and use the
Shubaak
to bring legions of jinn through to this world. Humans won’t stand a chance!”

“I thought it was the only way I could keep Gemma alive. But I was wrong. They’re going to blow us all up no matter what I do.”

She shook her head. “Not if you’ll let me help you.”

“Please,” I said, “roll me over so I can see Gemma.”

“Tell me where the ring is. I’ll hide it from them.”

“Come closer,” I said.

She did.

Gemma whimpered again, only louder.

“It’s in my left front pocket.”

“That’s a love.”

Nuala reached with her bound hands, found the signet ring, studied it. Then her eyes clouded over, green and black like a tornado sky.

“This can’t be Solomon’s ring. It has no seal, no adornment at all.”

“Fagin filed the seal off to disguise it,” I said. “But that’s it, all right. The magic’s still there.”

She looked from the ring to me and back again. “It
is
heavy, like the legend says,” she whispered, rolling the gold’s weight around her palm. “But how can we be sure?”

“Hide it,” I said. “We’ll only use it for a bargaining chip if we have to. Put it…”

“Shh!”
She shoved the ring into a pocket of her own. “They’re coming.”

“What’s going on over here?” Blondie’s sly hiss slithered across the concrete like an asp.

“We’re deciding how long we should let you keep your teeth,” I said. The binding on my wrists was starting to give. Barely.

She laughed and came to a stop in front of me. Oliver was behind her, along with Shorty and the Goon, Hashim. Oliver and Shorty looked overwhelmed. Hashim had a row of rough stitches along the gash I’d opened on his cheek, and a bandage around his forearm. I hoped that one was from Jones. He looked ready to kill me.

“Where’s Fagin?” Blondie toed my leg with her boot.

“Why?” I said. “He doesn’t have what you’re looking for.”

“What do you mean?”

“Go to hell.”

She turned to Oliver. “Not very ladylike, is she?”

Oliver shook his head. Laughed nervously.

“Where’s Emmet?” I said. “I want to see him so I can spit in his eye.”

Blondie laughed, full and cruel.

“Oh, you poor thing! Feeling betrayed?”

Shorty smirked.

“Hash, bring over the policeman so Scarlett can tell him how naughty he’s been.”

Hashim would’ve preferred kicking in my face, but he trotted off like a good little henchman and came back, dragging Emmet’s limp body by the heels.

Guilt and relief and anger shot through me all at once. Emmet hadn’t betrayed me. He hadn’t betrayed Reem. But he was hurt and unconscious and maybe even dead.

“Get the girl,” Blondie snapped. Shorty scurried past me and came back with Gemma in her arms. Gemma wobbled when her feet hit the ground, then steadied.

Blondie ran a long, pale finger down Gemma’s cheek. Gemma flinched. Her pants were stained where she’d wet herself. Over the cloth gag in her mouth, her eyes raced back and forth between Nuala and me. Tears streamed into the upturned goggles around her neck.

“Let her go or I won’t tell you a goddamned thing,” I said, working my wrists harder, ignoring the burn of raw skin and the first prickles of real panic.

“Oh no?” Blondie laughed. “Then let me tell
you
a few things. First, we found this.”

Oliver held out the bottle from my backpack. The one I hadn’t hidden in the drywall stacks earlier.

“We were never sure if the
Shubaak
we pried from your father’s dead hands was real or not, but now we know it was a fake, just like the one we stole from the Library of Alexandria three months ago. You’ve had the real one all along.”

I was running out of cards to play, and talking too much was only going to get someone hurt. So I kept my mouth shut.

Blondie bared her teeth in an ugly smile. “Cat got your tongue?”

I kept my mouth shut some more. Found even more play in the binding.

She walked over and kicked me in the solar plexus. “You’d do well to show more respect in the presence of Iblis, girl,” she said.

I fought for air, told myself it would come once the spasms in my diaphragm let up.

Gemma whimpered again. Her eyes were frozen on Nuala. Nuala was leaning toward me.

“Scarlett?” She touched my cheek with one hand.

One.

Even deprived of oxygen, I knew her hands had been tied together.

There should have been two.

“You oughtn’t have made things so difficult.…”

No, no, no
.

“… But you did. And now we have to do things the hard way.”

I tried to yank a wrist loose. Couldn’t do it. “You can’t…”

“Oh,” she purred, “but I can.”

“It’s you,” I croaked. “You think you’re Iblis.”

A terrible smile spread across her lips. “I
know
I’m Iblis, love.”

I heard an angry sob. Realized it was mine.

“And you?” Her top lip curled up in disdain. “Well,
let’s just say it was a gorgeous stroke of luck that you came along when you did. It’s almost like you were destined to help us. You’ve given us everything we lacked. That’s why I kept you alive. Got you away from the
mu’aqqibat
. Helped you break free of your silly boyfriend at the hospital. You’re a nuisance, love, but oh, so useful.”

Blondie sneered. Oliver stared down at the floor.

“And look how my gamble has paid off!” Nuala said. “I spent years married to that old fool, Manny, thinking he was the only one who could lead me to the ring. But in just a few days, you’ve brought us the real
Shubaak
and the ring, both. In return, I’m going to let you live long enough to witness their power. And if you’re especially good, I might even let you watch your friends die before I give you to Hashim.”

She turned to Hashim.

“Get her up. And if you disobey me again like you did earlier, I’ll kill you myself.”

Hashim dropped his chin, guilty as a wayward first grader. Then he yanked me to my feet, gave my kidneys a jab. “That’s a down payment,” he growled.

“Hashim!” Nuala scolded.

“It was only a poke,” he said.

Nuala smiled indulgently. “Yes, well, we’ve more important things to do before I let you have your fun. Much more important things.” She slipped the signet ring onto her finger and snatched the bottle from Oliver’s hands.

“I’ve waited so long,” she whispered, running her fingers lovingly over the metal. “Ever since my father whispered stories of Solomon’s betrayal to me at bedtime, telling me all that had been stolen from our ancestors, I’ve dreamed of returning my people to greatness. Now jinnkind will assume its rightful dominion over this miserable realm, and human blood will spill for a thousand years as penance for their sins against us.”

The gold in her eyes threw off evil sparks.

“You’re insane,” I said.

Her hand shot out and slapped me. Gemma groaned and got a quick backhand of her own from Shorty.

Oliver flinched. “You said you wouldn’t hurt my sister!”

“Shut up, fool,” Nuala said, “and bear witness to the birth of my reign!”

She held up the
Shubaak
.

“It was so kind of Manny to explain that the lost
spell was never really lost, that it’s been hidden in plain sight all these years.…”

She knew. All the bearer of the ring had to do was hold the
Shubaak
and read the words written across it. And Nuala knew.

“We remain unvanquished!”

The words rang triumphantly across the basement. Nuala shuddered. Her beautiful face twisted into a smug mask of anticipation.

Everyone waited.

Nothing happened.

Nuala’s eyes flew wide. “What have you done?” she snarled at me.

“Not a damn thing,” I said. “Yet.”

Quick as my rubbery muscles would let me, I bent my knees and jumped backward into the Goon’s face. Bone gave way under the back of my head with a sickening crunch. Hashim went down, nose shattered, hands still gripping my shirt. I rolled with him until his hands went limp, then spun clear.

“Get her!” Nuala shrieked. Gemma kicked back into one of Shorty’s knees, hitting at just the right angle to knock her kneecap sideways and bring her down.

Oliver rushed to his sister’s side. I scrambled behind the nearest stack of drywall. Blondie was hot on my tail.

Even with my wrists tied, I was ready.

My shin flew high and hard enough to connect with her neck and drop her cold. She was unconscious before she hit the ground.

I staggered, wrenched to my right, and steadied myself against the drywall panels. The pile shifted, exposing the blackjack I’d stashed there earlier. That, and the real
Shubaak
, too.

Blondie twitched at my feet.

Hands still behind my back, I slid my thumb through Solomon’s ring and yanked against the threads holding it to my jeans. The metal cut into my finger. I pulled harder. The stitches gave.

“Asha?” Shorty mewled from the other side of the stack.

“You mean Blondie?” I called back. “She’s a little unconscious right now.”

My blackjack sat on its shelf, begging to be used. I knew it was useless so long as my hands weren’t free.

“But look how close she got to this.”

I turned around and pushed my hands out past the
edge of the drywall, wiggling my fingers to show off Solomon’s ring.

Nuala howled in frustration. “The true ring! Get it!”

I spun around. Got ready for Shorty or Oliver to come after me. Neither did.

“Asha!” Shorty wailed. “What have you done to Asha?”

I looked down at Blondie. She wasn’t twitching anymore, but the shallow rise and fall of her chest told me she was still alive.

“Nothing she can’t recover from,” I said. “But I’ll kill the both of you if you come back here.”

I peeked out from behind the drywall. Shorty was on the ground, clutching her knee and staring stupidly up at Nuala. Oliver had planted himself in front of Gemma, shielding her. Nuala stood alone, her beauty gone. She was a thing of pure hate.

“Get her!” she barked at Shorty.

“Asha,” Shorty sniffled.

Oliver pulled Gemma close.

On the floor behind Nuala, Emmet’s eyes opened and found mine.

Alhamdulillah
, I said under my breath. He was alive.

Fast as a cat, Nuala snatched Gemma away from
Oliver and pressed her forearm across the girl’s throat. With her free hand, she took a small blowgun from a pouch at her waist and aimed it down at Shorty.

“Traitor,” she said coldly. And blew.

Shorty’s body seized. I watched, paralyzed, as her lips went blue and her fingers clawed at her throat. The agony went on forever. I thought of
Abbi
, of Decker, and focused on my own rage. There would be time enough for grief. Later.

Shorty jerked once. Twice. Finally went still.

Gemma let out a stifled wail. Nuala pulled a second dart and held it less than an inch from her neck.

With one last ripping tug, my right wrist slipped free. “You shouldn’t have done that,” I said.