Twiceborn (16 page)

I slid off the bed and backed away till I hit the wall. The bed between us would no more protect me than the kitchen bench had kept the werewolf at bay. She was small, but she looked like she knew how to use that knife. She was also stark naked.

Time stopped as we stared at each other. Her eyes were lost in shadow, impossible to read. Why did I say that? I didn’t know this woman.

At last she lowered her hand. “Who are you? And how do you know my name?”

A damn good question. Pity I had no answers. Part of me insisted I knew her: her pretty Chinese face always wore that serious expression. The long silken fall of her black hair was always pulled back in that business-like ponytail. Her hands looked delicate, yet I knew how capable they were. How handy with a knife, for instance.

The other part of me had never seen her before in my life.

And yet … the feeling of relief persisted, despite the knife and the disturbing lack of clothes. The cavalry had arrived! It made no sense—particularly as it was clear she had no idea who I was. The knife made it obvious her intentions weren’t friendly, and I shrank back against the wall, uneasily calculating my chances of getting past her to the balcony door. The odds weren’t good.

How did I know her name?
Search me, lady
. I blurted the first thing that popped into my head instead.

“How’d you get up here?”

A fair question, in my view. No ladder leaned against the balcony, no rope hung down. It seemed even more curious than her nudity.

“I flew,” she said, deadpan.

She was joking, right?

She crossed to the interior door and tried the handle. “Why is this locked? Where’s the key?”

“How would I know? I’m a prisoner.”

She looked me over, her gaze cold. “So you’re working for Alicia?”

Goddammit. Why did everyone assume I must be working for someone? “Look, I never heard of Alicia or Valeria before yesterday. I don’t know anything about any crazy dragon war, and I wish all you people would stop blaming me for things I haven’t even done.”

“Keep your voice down.” She considered me for a long moment, completely unfazed by her own nakedness. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking, but she went back to the balcony for what looked in the dark like a huge bunch of keys, the kind of thing a chatelaine might have worn in the olden days.

“What are you doing?” I asked as she knelt by the bedroom door.

“Getting us out of here,” she said.

“Can’t we go back the way you came?”

She ignored me, slipping an L-shaped piece of metal off her giant key ring and inserting it in the lock, followed by something else that looked like it belonged in a dental surgery. Okay, so they weren’t keys but lock-picking tools. That explained how she’d managed to get in. I’d never seen anyone pick a lock before. Were they all criminals in this brave new supernatural world? And naked ones, at that? I hardly knew where to look. Such a fabulous lot of new experiences I was having lately.

It was obviously trickier than they made it look in the movies. She gave up on the dental device she had and chose another from the ring.

I watched, trying to piece things together. She could have flown out the way she’d come. She was a wyvern, after all. That would be why the lock picks were on such a big ring, so she could grip it in her claws as she flew. And why she was naked. If you only meant to turn human long enough to murder a sleeping woman you wouldn’t bother bringing clothes.

This all fell into place in my mind, click, click, click, like the tumblers moving in the lock. Wyvern, check. Fly in, fly out. Check.

Leave the dead body behind.

I broke out in hot sweat all over. This had never been meant as a rescue. She’d come to kill me. And how the
hell
did I know she was a wyvern? A few days ago I wouldn’t even have been sure what a wyvern was.

She eased the door open and peeked out into the corridor.

“So you’re breaking me out of here?” Glad she’d changed her mind. Though she barely reached my shoulder, I didn’t fancy my chances if I had to take her on.

She glanced at me as if I were something nasty she’d found on the bottom of her shoe—if she’d been wearing any—then gathered up her tools.

“But that wasn’t part of the plan, was it?”

“You talk too much,” she said.

“So what’s the plan now? How do I know you’re not going to kill me if I come with you?”

“You don’t.”

She didn’t add “you’ll just have to trust me” or any other vague reassurance.

“Then I think I’ll say ‘thanks, but no thanks’.”

The knife reappeared with alarming speed. “I don’t remember giving you an option.”

That seemed a persuasive argument, so I slipped my shoes on and went out into the hall.

She jerked the knife to the right. “Down the stairs.”

“Wait! We have to break Ben out too. I can’t leave without him.”

“Will you keep your damn voice down!” she snarled.

Too late. A door opened further down the hall and Kicked Puppy Guy came out. I froze.

He went for his gun, but Luce was quicker. The knife whizzed past my nose, and I heard a wet thunk and the guy’s grunt of pain.

Luce shoved me toward the stairs. “Move!”

I moved, with her on my heels. Our feet made no noise on the thick carpet as we pelted down the stairs.

Another door slammed overhead, followed by the shrill of an alarm. Our guy must have hit a panic button, which meant more thugs arriving soon. Not good. I skidded round corners, following Luce’s terse directions: “through here! this way!” I hoped she knew what she was doing, because I was completely lost and disoriented in the dark.

I slammed my shin into a chair as we raced into the kitchen. She hurled it to the floor behind us, then toppled them all down the long table as we passed. Someone was right behind us, but dodging the crashing chairs slowed him down. We burst into the yard mere seconds ahead of the pursuit.

“Come
on
!”

Luce snatched at my hand and dragged me behind her. The first guy burst out the door and got off a wild shot.

We zigzagged across the yard. I hunched low, expecting to feel a bullet rip into me any second. Behind us someone shouted, but no one fired again. Luce damn near pulled the back gate off its hinges, and we flew out into the street.

A white sedan idled at the curb. Luce wrenched the back door open and we piled in.

“Let’s go!” said Luce. “What are you waiting for?”

“What’s
she
doing here?” the driver growled. “I thought you were going to kill her.”

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. It was the werewolf from my kitchen.

“Later, Garth,” Luce said. “Shut up and drive.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The drive was short but tense. Garth did as he was told and didn’t say a word, but his anger was plain in the stiffness of his thick neck and the way he slammed the gear stick through the changes.

Garth. The monster had a name. He probably even had a job and a family to come home to, just like a normal person. My heart raced as I stared at the back of his head, surrounded by the now-familiar orange glow. Well, not quite like a normal person. There was that whole turning into a werewolf and attacking people thing. I shrank back in my seat, my body instinctively recoiling from the danger he represented.

Not that I was much safer with Luce. Her aura was blue. Werewolf or wyvern—choose your poison. Either way there were claws and fangs. She watched me the whole time—not in a threatening way, but as if she were trying to work something out. The faint puzzled crease down the centre of her forehead was the most expression I’d seen on her yet. At least she’d put some clothes on.

I turned away to watch the dark streets slide by out the window, trying not to let my fear show. The road was wet. Must have rained earlier, when I was asleep. Another late-night car trip. No wonder I was so bloody tired. And with every one my situation got worse and worse. Almost punch-drunk now, I reeled like a fighter who’d taken too many blows to the head. What now? Had Luce rescued me only so Garth could finish the job he’d started in my kitchen?

We turned in at a large motel, its
No Vacancy
sign flashing a brilliant red. The car crunched its way across the gravel yard and pulled up in front of door 13. Lucky number 13.

“Move,” said Luce.

I got out. I could smell moisture in the warm air. Probably more rain on the way. No lights showed at the row of windows that marched down the length of the building. Either the other rooms were empty or their occupants were asleep. Not much point yelling for help either way, given what any would-be rescuers would find themselves up against.

Garth unlocked the door and shoved me inside. I stumbled and fell to the gritty carpet. Jerk. I wished I still had my pepper grinder; I’d show him a thing or two. I glared up at him, and he returned the glare with interest, stalking past and hurling the car keys down on a rickety table.

He turned to Luce as she came in and shut the door.

“It’s later,” he said, “so start talking.”

“Get her up off the floor.”

She pushed past, ignoring his temper, and switched on the bedside lamps, revealing a typical room layout. Bed with two small chests either side. A round table with two mismatched chairs, and a cupboard cum wall unit opposite the bed that housed a TV and an electric kettle. Above the bed hung a tired print of a beach scene. A small bathroom opened off the entryway.

The lamplight did little to dispel the gloom. The place was still dark and dingy, like cheap motels everywhere. The carpet smelled of smoke and old greasy takeaway. I got up, keeping as far from the angry werewolf as possible in the small room.

He clenched his big fists and squared up to her. “How about I rip her throat out instead? What the hell is your problem? You were supposed to kill her.”

His eyes actually turned yellow as he spoke. The wolf hovered very close to the surface.

Luce wasn’t impressed. He was head and shoulders taller than her, but she got right up in his face and slapped him hard.

“If you try turning wolf on me, I’ll shove your head so far up your furry arse you’ll be able to eat what you had for breakfast all over again.”

She had a big temper for such a tiny person, and the wolf backed down. He sank onto the bed, lowering himself beneath her. If he’d been in wolf form he probably would have shown her his belly.

“Garth’s a little emotional,” she said to me. “Don’t mind him. Have a seat.”

She indicated the table jammed into the corner. Apart from the bed it was the only other place to sit. I took one chair and she took the other. Garth stayed on the bed, not meeting anyone’s eyes. He wore a Darth Vader T-shirt, and he looked like a sulky kid—but my experience with werewolves was pretty limited. Maybe they were always grumpy.

There was a stain on the seat of my chair that might have been food, or blood—or anything really. I tried not to sit on it and looked around. No way out except the front door. I’d be lucky if the window on the back wall even opened. My chances of climbing out with an angry werewolf in the room were slim to none.

Luce leaned forward, pinning me with a stern look, as if she understood my little survey of the room. “You may be under the impression I’m a reasonable person, because I haven’t let Garth kill you yet. Don’t make that mistake.”

She was preaching to the choir here. I was already convinced this petite Asian doll was far more dangerous than the hulking werewolf.

“I’m going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer completely and truthfully. If you don’t, things will go badly for you. Very badly. Do you understand?”

I nodded, mouth suddenly dry. Maybe Luce was short for Lucifer. Her matter-of-fact attitude was far more menacing than Garth’s angry posturing.

“Good. Let’s start with something easy. Who are you and why were you locked in Valeria’s keep?”

“My name’s Kate O’Connor. I work for my friend Ben in his costume shop, and sometimes I do these special courier jobs for him.”

She was quick. “You mean you’re a herald?”

“I told you!” Garth roared, leaping to his feet. “She was there! She did it!”

“Shut up, Garth! Let her talk.”

I waited till he sat down again. The guy was a powder keg waiting to blow. “Well, kind of. I mean, yeah, I did the jobs, but I didn’t know about any of this shifter stuff. I thought there were just a lot of secretive people around who didn’t want the world knowing their business. And then this urgent job came through …”

I gave her an edited version of the events of that afternoon—as much as I could remember of it, anyway. It didn’t seem like the smartest move to mention visions of my hands dripping blood to these two, so I left that part out.

“… and then I went down to the local shops to get some Panadol—” Probably best not to mention the glowing people either. “When I got home the power was out and next thing I know a werewolf jumps me in the kitchen. But you know that part already.”

Luce glanced at Garth, who now paced impatiently in the space between the TV and the bed. He seemed to have a problem with sitting still. “Yes. Garth is … impulsive. He was meant to be gathering information. I prefer to act on facts, not gut instinct.”

The werewolf stopped pacing long enough to snarl at me. “She’s lying! Are you going to believe this garbage about losing her memory? Bloody convenient, if you ask me.”

“But nobody did, so keep your mouth shut.” Her aura flared a brighter blue as she stared him down. Did that mean she was close to changing herself? Or did changes in the aura reflect the shifter’s emotional state? So much I didn’t know. “You were telling me how you ended up Valeria’s prisoner.”

“Right. Well, after Ben saved me from your friend here, we hid out while Ben tried to find out why I was attacked.” I met Garth’s glare with one of my own. He certainly didn’t look like someone who’d been shot a couple of days ago, though he had a wild look to him, as if he’d been running on adrenalin for a while and needed a good sleep. I knew how that felt.

His pacing made me nervous. Would he attack again? I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I continued. “He told me about the shifters. Said he had lots of contacts. I guess one of them must have sold him out, or maybe you weren’t the only ones looking for me, because Nada turned up on the doorstep with a couple of thugs and took us back to the house in Mosman. I’d never heard of Valeria or Alicia before Garth accused me of working for them, but Nada thought I was in league with Jason, which is even more ridiculous. I mean, sure, he’s my ex-husband, so at least I
know
him, but I’d rather jump off a cliff than do anything
he
wanted.”