Her admonition, and her ability to see me, made me want to leap from the roof. I kept my voice even with great effort. “Your point, Regan? Because the cloud cover seems to be clearing up, and you’re not going to be able to catch a cab in your condition this far past Halloween.”
There was no way she could be there. Unless she’d arrived in full dark and planned to exit the same way. In a neighboring house? Looking out through a window? In that box tree hedge across the street?
“I’m tired of waiting for you to return to your penthouse, Olivia. Or show up at Valhalla for your shift-nice touch there, by the way-or to stop by and check on your former mortal lover.”
“That will never happen,” I said, which was true enough. Let her think I didn’t care. As long as I stayed away from Ben Traina, he was safe.
“Which is why I’ve had to come to you.”
“Changelings are out of bounds. You can’t touch Jasmine.”
“Oh, dear. You are fucking retarded.” Laughter wheezed from her again, and I clenched my jaw. “Your little ‘Wonder Twin’ doesn’t interest me. After all, there’s another little girl out there, with little bits of Joanna floating through her bloodstream.”
Icy fear kept me quiet now.
“What do you think?” Regan had no such problem. “A few choice slices with a butcher’s knife and she and I might be able to pass for mother and daughter.”
“She knows nothing about me,” I said flatly.
“Ah, but you know about her.” And that was all she’d ever cared about. How whatever she did to those I loved would affect me.
“So, what? I do as you say, and you won’t hurt her?”
“Oh, you’d think so, wouldn’t you? But predictability is also where you and I differ. See, I’ve already carved her up.”
The air left my body in one fell whoosh. I teetered on the rooftop as I stood, and took two quick steps before I caught myself. Regan giggled. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“Well, you almost fell for it,” she said, her sliced tongue doing a strange dance over the words. “But for future reference, would you like to find her little corpse first, or just hear about it on the five o’clock news?”
Now her laughter dug, as sharp and deep as that butcher’s knife.
“If you hurt her…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. God. Ashlyn. My daughter…and Ben’s. Because of me…
“If I hurt her, I’ve hurt you,” she finished succinctly, and the line went dead.
I stood for a long while with the phone still pressed to my ear. Then I vaulted to the pepper tree, scurrying down it as quickly as I could without hurting myself, and studied the wide open road with all of my senses. Despite Regan’s words, there was no one, mortal or otherwise, on the street. I allowed myself one betraying sigh-infused with a relief that anyone with heightened senses could sniff-then pulled out my cell again and dialed Hunter’s number.
I looked back up at Li’s window as the phone rang. Jasmine’s silhouette was visible in the corner. Inside lay an innocent little girl, dying because she’d taken a wound belonging to me. On the outside-not close, but getting closer to me-was Regan. Her threats toward Ashlyn were horrifying because she’d do exactly as she said, no remorse, no second thought-just like the Tulpa, she’d injure a child in an attempt to get to me.
Not only that, I thought, as I began to walk, but that child would be eleven in a fistful of days-on my birthday, actually, like all the first daughters in the Zodiac-which wasn’t too early for a girl to start puberty. Once she did, her second life cycle would begin, her pheromones would flare, and everyone-Shadow and Light-would know of her existence. Then Regan and Warren would be the least of my worries. And her mortal mother wouldn’t be remotely able to protect her.
No, she’d need a superhero for that.
So, despite Skamar’s warning, was the soul sliver required to enter another world in search of a man who knew how to fix a changeling worth ensuring Ashlyn’s safety in this one? Damn straight, I thought, along with Jasmine’s and the little girl huddled in her bed above like a tiny mummy. I squared my shoulders and, with a final glance behind me, left a voice mail with the one person I trusted more than anyone else in this world. I didn’t want to see him. Hunter had sensed a vulnerability about me during the live-fire exercise at the warehouse, and perhaps even before it. If he knew I could be injured as easily as a mortal, he’d physically restrain me from crossing into Midheaven again. So I kept it short, telling him only what he needed to know in order for us both to keep moving forward. “Hunter. Tell Warren I’m going in.”
19
I dressed for the crossing like I was prepping for war, in a black leather jacket with a Mandarin collar, matching boot-cut pants cut low for movement, and thick-soled boots…perfect for ass-kicking. What can I say? Though I knew what the women in Midheaven considered feminine-I left on the necklace Suzanne had given me in deference to that-I was going to stick with the tried and true: I’d go in fists flying, assuming guilt before innocence, and take what I wanted by force if that was the only way to get it done. Sure, beneath all this armor was a spray-on tan, and breasts that had a serial number stamped on a silicone shell, but I still felt most powerful when strong, limber, and packing an attitude I could fire like an Uzi.
“Putting the ‘bomb’ in bombshell,” I muttered, sidestepping down the storm drain’s embankment. I’d brought a giant bottle of ice water, and was wearing the mesh belt again, with one important addition: a knife to rival Mackie’s, in case it came down to another duel, mano a mano. My goal was to remain downstairs-talk to Tripp, look for Jacks, scan the Most Wanted board, before fighting my way back to my lantern. Whatever happened, I did not want to go upstairs.
If it was cold outside, it was going to be absolutely frigid in the catacombs of the Las Vegas underground. Ice, milkweed, and escaped bahai grass crackled underfoot as I approached the tunnels, all hidden beneath a wreathing mist that trailed ominously into the concrete drain. I stole a final glance at my glittering hometown as a wind gust raced across the entrance, its chill fingers reaching out to beckon me back. In the distance, the Strip was as brilliant and bold as an ice floe, snapping back at the inclement weather with LID billboards, pastel spotlights, and heated gas that blistered the air. I smiled, then softened my gaze so it all blurred; the colorful ice floe melting as I turned away.
I found the shoulder bag I’d looped around the drain, and shoved all the gaming chips with the remaining bits of my power into my pockets before I dumped my cell phone inside. I’d leave the bag here, but I was going to keep the chips on me from now on…no matter what world I was in.
As I was using the same storm drain as the first time I’d accessed Midheaven, I was surprised when it veered in an altogether different direction than I remembered. But I figured as long as the pipeline wound over unfamiliar terrain and looped improbably around on itself, as long as everything remained abnormal, all was normal, right?
So I found my way back to the concrete cupboard simply by putting one foot in front of the other, careful all the while to watch and listen for Regan. I could tell by the fractious sounds emanating from the south end of the valley-rumbling belches and ear-splitting squeals-that Skamar was keeping the Tulpa occupied. I’d heard on the car radio that some the mortal weathermen were beginning to make dire predictions about the bulging sky, and even an evangelical diehard had picked up on it, spouting his apocalyptic predictions. I would have liked to stick around long enough to hear someone blast back that an apocalypse generally included the entirety of humanity and not just a city built on gaming tables and dancing girls, but I couldn’t wait any longer. Even if the sky didn’t fall, Li wouldn’t last much longer, and very possibly, neither would Skamar. So with their faces fueling my resolve, I again spun the dial on the lock, and lined up the Archer glyph so the combination tumbled like fates falling into place.