The Undead Pool (29 page)

“I'll do it,” Landon proclaimed as he stood. “Give me the gun.”

Like that was going to happen? Edden's expression twisted into a sour mess. “Get him downstairs,” he said, gesturing for one of the officers to take him, and Landon protested, head high and eyes wild. “Second thought, we can't spare the man. Lock him to a pole.”

“You don't have to lock me up!” Landon demanded, but there was already a zip strip around his wrist making him pretty much helpless. The officer knew what he was doing, carefully manhandling him to a fallen emergency sprinkler system and cuffing him to it.

“Trent?” Bancroft shouted, and a billow of smoke poured out of the nest. “Did you bring your goat? We can stop this now if you brought your goat.”

Jenks's dust turned gray as he hovered. “What the pixy pus is he talking about?”

Rambling about goats, Bancroft shoved and tripped his way out again. The man with the rifle put him in his sights, and my heart pounded as I found my splat gun. I'd have to get close, dangerously close. It didn't help that the old elf already distrusted me.

“If you kill your goat, the Goddess won't become any sicker. We can mend her. You and I. It would be a great thing. Good for publicity. It would bring the unbelievers back to the fold and solidify your standing in the enclave. The Goddess needs
adherence
!” Bancroft exclaimed, then hesitated as he looked at the small circle of stuff he'd laid out as if not remembering having done it. “She needs
obedience
. Are you pious, Trent? Your mother was a poser.”

My motion to inch out hesitated as Trent's hands clenched on the bullhorn.

“She didn't believe, and the Goddess killed her.” Bancroft staggered to a broken table, almost falling as he set it legs up on the pile. “Her eyes are whispering to me, how your mother asked for guidance and strength and then refused when the Goddess demanded payment.”

Trent's expression became tight, and I crouched, waving him to stay back. Jenks's dust was a silver white, the sparkles looking like the beginning of a migraine.

“The Goddess destroyed her,” Bancroft said, oblivious to Trent's anger. “Drew her forth with promises and abandoned her when she needed her most. She's a proper bitch, she is. The Goddess, not your mother. We shouldn't be punished for our weaknesses. She gave them to us.”

My feet found a careful place in the rubble as I eased behind a file cabinet. The papers stuck to it fluttered in the stiff wind, blocking my view. Almost close enough . . . If I had more than one shot, I would have taken it.

But then Bancroft's eyes found mine and I froze, half hidden, half not. “You brought your goat! Good man!” he shouted. “Bring her to the fire and we'll slit her throat together.”

“Holy crap!” I exclaimed, bringing my gun up when Bancroft lunged toward me, motions jerky as he fumbled for that huge knife of his, up to now hidden in the folds of his clothes. Jenks was a haze of dust between us, and I pulled the trigger. Like a villain in a fantasy flick, Bancroft waved his hand and the ball exploded three feet from him.

Gasping, I ducked back to avoid the splattering hot spell. Quickly I jammed the gun in the file cabinet before he burst the rest of the spells in the hopper and put me down with my own weapon. Trent was shouting, and Jenks inked when I suddenly found myself pulled backward, falling into the FIB's shelter.

Eyes wide, I stared up at Trent.

“Take it!” Edden exclaimed from over me, and then I surged to my feet when the dart gun went off with a little pop. Breath held, I watched Bancroft roll to evade it.

“Unbelievers!” he shouted, clearly not hit. “You will twist and die under her power! She comes! She comes!”

“Oh my God . . .” I breathed as Bancroft ran to the edge, a stark silhouette against the bright light, arms spread wide as he faced Cincinnati. He was going to jump!

“She comes!” he screamed, and in the distance, a siren started, then another.

Trent's face was pale, and Edden frowned as he stood over the man at the keyboard. “Just what we need,” the man grumbled. “A wave. At least we know it's headed right for us.”

Because it's coming for me.
Chilled, I looked past Bancroft to the horizon. More sirens were lifting into the air, joined by church bells. “She comes!” Bancroft shouted, his robe falling to his elbows as he shook at the edge of the drop-off.

“Captain, can I move forward for a better shot?” the man with the dart gun asked, and Edden nodded. Immediately he slunk forward, stealthy with urban guerrilla tactics.

Trent rubbed a hand over his face, starting at the feel of his bristles. “Rachel, I don't know what he's going to do if that wave hits him.”

“He's going to kill himself,” Landon said, and I spun, having forgotten the nasty man cuffed to the fallen sprinkler system. “Pray that whoever is pulling mystics from your line catches them before they reach Bancroft, or he's going to take us with him.”

My gut clenched. If I used magic, I'd kill us faster.

“He tried to rescue them,” Landon said, chin lifting to indicate Bancroft. “He was going to put them back in the line so the Free Vampires couldn't use them to put the undead asleep. But it went wrong. They won't leave him, and now he's insane.”

“Here!” the crazed man shouted. “We're here! Join us!”

“I told him it wasn't a good idea,” Landon said, but the thread of satisfaction in him made me think he was lying. “You can't talk to the divine and survive.”

But I had.

“Trent!” Bancroft shouted, spinning to us. “Bring your goat! It's your destiny! You must make amends for what your mother refused to do!”

Excuse me?

Eyes on Bancroft, Trent took my elbow. “Don't even think about using this as a way to get near him,” he muttered.

Cackling, Bancroft spun back to the opening, dancing a weird shuffle with his arms waving over his head as if he could fly. “She's coming. She's coming!”

“Rache, look at that!” Jenks exclaimed, and my lips parted. Beyond Bancroft was a sparkling cloud. It drifted below us, just over the tops of Cincy's buildings. Beneath the distortion were little flares as magic misfired, but the sirens were minimizing the situation. I'd seen that cloud before on the bridge, and my fear tightened to a hard pit. Mystics.

Edden chewed on his lower lip, eyes on Bancroft at the edge and his man inching closer. “Edden, call your man back,” I whispered, face cold. “If Bancroft does any magic under that wave, it will misfire! I can protect us, but not if he's way over there. Get him back here. Now!”

“Stand down!” Edden shouted, gesturing frantically. “Newman, get back here!”

“Dust!” Bancroft shouted, spinning to the opening as the first of the wave sparkled over him. “Oh God! Make it stop!”

He wants to kill himself,
I realized, and as Newman ran for us, I yanked Trent closer. “Go to ground, Jenks!” I shouted, then bubbled everyone I could reach before the wave hit us, feeling my power lick up and around the running officer as I fell to a knee and the circle invoked. A molecule-thin barrier swam up, bisected by a hundred cords, a hundred ways in to those who knew. I prayed that the mystics didn't.

“Make it sto-o-o-op!” Bancroft howled. And then a sparkling lilt seemed to lift through me with the sound of wings as the wave hit us. My skin prickled, and Trent looked at me in shock. I knew my aura was sparkling with them. The Goddess's eyes, her mystics, were on us.

“I'm so sorry,” I whispered, not knowing what for, and then I cowered as Bancroft's own spell misfired. He screamed, his high-pitched cries cutting off with a gurgle when his lungs melted, and I covered my ears, trying not to hear him.

Wild magic beat at us, crawling over the surface of my circle for the way in. My heart thudded when it found a resonance in my chi, and the first feelings of tendrils sought me out.
Please no,
I thought, feeling that same something that was digging through my circle quiver awake—already inside me. A thousand eyes spun, rising up in anger as they recognized me.

Stay out,
I begged, knowing it was my aura they were following, tricked into believing I was the way back to her. To take them in would draw Bancroft's spell into my circle, and they lingered, intensifying his charm as they refused to move on. Fire danced over us as the world burned and the air grew warm. Sparkles skated over the layer of ever-after protecting us.
Please, please, please, see us not,
I thought as the floor burned, and from inside me—the way made open from the resonances between me and my line—I heard a mocking laugh.

For now,
the Goddess taunted, her voice clear as water in the chaos of my thoughts.

Trent yanked from me, mouth open and shock in his eyes. Then he jerked his head up as the insane wild magic darted away, drawn by the sensation of something brighter than my aura.

Panting, I let the bubble drop. For a heartbeat there was silence, and then came the hissing shush of the sprinkler system flicking on. I looked up, glad now that the ceiling was a twisted wreck and we were still dry. The scent of wet carpet rose, thickened, and began to purge the reek of burning skin.

“What the devil was that?” someone said, and I fell back, hiding my face as I sat on my butt and held my knees to my chin, rocking almost. The scent of burning plastic was slowly fading, and I could hear the men moving about in the superhot, increasingly moist air. Whether she was divine or simply a force of nature, it was obvious that the Goddess was real. Her mystics had opened a channel. I'd heard her again—in my head as her mystics sought me out. Trent had heard her too.

Trent's touch shocked through me, and he pulled back as I started. He looked haunted, and ash covered his hands where he had touched something. It was on me now, and I thought the black smear was fitting as it marked me. “Rachel? Did you just . . .”

He couldn't say it. I didn't blame him. “I think so,” I said dully.

Dropping down to me, he peered at me in concern. “Are you okay?”

He was tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, and closing my eyes, I tilted my head so I could feel his hand on my cheek. It sang through me, tingling with the last of the wild magic, and I had no right to it. “I don't know.”

“You are a
demon
!” Landon shouted, expression vehement and stumbling when his cuffed hand brought him up short. “How dare you speak to the divine!”

Numb, I could do nothing as he struggled to reach me, finally working his cuff around a bend in the piping and running at me. The two officers, finding something they could cope with, tackled him.

“Get off!” he shouted from under them. “Get off me!”

Edden lowered a hand to help me rise. “Great. I think he's got it now.”

My hand was trembling as I put it in Edden's and stood. Bancroft was a pile of twisted, blackened bones in the middle of the charred top floor. His rings were still on his cooked fingers, and I wondered about the shackle on his ankle, up to now hidden behind his robe.

“Get him out of here,” Edden said, and I flinched when Jenks's dust hit me and burned with wild magic. Bancroft had said mystics lived in pixies. Why had I never felt it before now?

“That could have gone better,” Trent said, and Jenks landed on his shoulder instead of mine. Landon's tirade cut off as the elevator door closed. The sudden silence broken by the hiss of sprinklers was somehow worse.

“At least he didn't jump.” Fingers fumbling for his phone, Edden looked at Bancroft's remains and sighed. “Mr. Kalamack, I'd appreciate it if you could give us an hour of your time at your earliest convenience. Rachel, you too. There's going to be an inquiry. I can feel it already.”

“Sure.”
I hate reports.
I turned away, shuffling to the edge of the dry spot to watch the cloud of insane mystics sparkling in the sun as they continued on toward the Hollows. Sirens heralded their progress. The arena was right in the way, and my gut clenched at the thought of all those people huddled in fear as it passed over.

I'd like to think that the mystics had moved on because of the Goddess, that she'd driven them off, but the truth of it was they'd left because they'd felt a magnet stronger than my aura, a brighter light. Somewhere down there in the streets, someone had called the mystics away, called them to be collected, and with that, the wave would end. Slowly my numb stupor evolved into a tight anger. We had to stop these people.

The sound of Jenks's wings was loud, but I felt his dust first, like the soft prickling of wild magic. “That was some freaky shit, Rache. You okay?”

I nodded, watching the cloud go faint in the sun as I took off my hard hat. Dropping it, I grabbed someone's scarf, glad the file cabinet I'd stashed my gun in was in the dry zone. Using the scarf like a potholder, I opened the drawer. Sure enough, my cherry-red splat gun was coated in busted charms. Depressed, I wrapped the scarf around it and tucked it in my bag. The heat might have destroyed the charms' potency, but I doubted it.

“David!” Edden said loudly, and I spun to the elevator, but he was on his phone. “I can't bring the wave any closer to you than that. Did you get a fix on where these bastards are?”

“David,” I whispered, striding back to Trent. “You're talking to David? Give me that!”

“Alone?” Edden said loudly, holding me off and grinning all the wider. Jenks, eavesdropping at his shoulder, gave me a thumbs-up. “Rachel and Mr. Kalamack are with me, and I do believe they can get there faster than that.”

“David?” I exclaimed, knowing he'd hear me. “You found them?”

“Will you be quiet?” Edden said, hand over the speaker. “I'm trying to talk to David.”

Frustrated, I dropped back to my heels. “You know where they are?” I asked when Edden ended the call with a terse “We're on our way.” But I knew the answer already by his smile, both satisfied and predatory.