“The spirit of the Kairos shouldn’t be shackled to a body with damaged chi,” she snarled, and returned my head butt, sending shards of icy white light firing through my skull. Then she dragged me toward the portal. I scrambled, digging in my heels, the nonslip soles catching until she leveled one of hers down on top of my left foot. She was as strong as I was, but suppler, bending and reshaping to form in front of me or beside me or behind me at will. I struggled harder against her fluid grip, now positive I really did not want to go through that supernatural doorway.
Still, she was making slow and steady headway, and so focused was I on the bloodred portal that the cold sprawl of that homicidal hand crawling over my face was a complete surprise. “Time to remove the blinders, Kairos.”
And she did what no one else had been able to before. She yanked my mask from my head so the straps tore at my earlobes, threw it to the ground, and drank in my Olivia identity, my most prized secret. I drove my left elbow straight up and connected with her chin, though it immediately shifted. Judging the number of steps and direction the blow would send her, I sent a flying kick to await her there. But she didn’t show up. The next thing I felt was her knee connecting with my already bruised kidney from behind.
Well, she had me bested there, I thought as I crumpled to the ground. I couldn’t very well return the favor when she didn’t have any organs.
When she could dissipate like smoke only to reappear behind you…
No, I thought, balling up as she flipped me over. Nobody could do that. I just hadn’t been seeing clearly.
But I was seeing clearly now, and her whole body was shining and ethereal and luminescent as she straddled me. “Divided energy, Joanna. Divided looks…and a divided heart, no?”
I swung my legs up behind her to link them beneath her arms and propel her to her back.
The scent reached me first, more of my blood being spilled, though pain came close on its heels, an eruption of nerve endings telling me something had just destroyed my spleen. I squeezed my eyes shut, arching backward as sound gurgled in my throat. I was on my back again, and this time she dropped her knees to my shoulders, pinning me, closing the distance between us.
“You asked why I saved you from the Tulpa.” The froth bubbling up in her voice wasn’t as enticing now. She nudged my chin and waited until I could look at her. “It was for one reason only, Joanna. You’re the real target in both my worlds. You’re the Alpha and Omega of the spectral plane. You, my dear, are the golden ring.”
“And let me guess,” leveled a voice from behind me. “A pretty lady like you likes your baubles.”
A light flared through the rent in her chest and I had a moment to think, Glyph, though before I could identify it, her weight was gone, layer after layer of her morphing into flight, breaking laws with bubbles, delicately straddling worlds. Those in my troop who had projectile weapons fired them into the night sky. Hunter’s whip coiled up in a resounding snap, but caught nothing but disturbed air. My glyph died on my chest, but the pain was still coming in regular, if less intense, waves. When I looked up, Felix was looming over my head.
“Dude,” he said, boyish face implacable. “I totally thought you were going to throw a seven.”
Hunter punched him in the arm as I struggled to my knees. “Good to see you too, Felix,” I grunted.
Micah put his arm around me and lifted me to my feet. Grateful, I leaned into him. “No injuries? No permanent damage?”
“I might need a new boob job…and I think my spleen’s missing.” God, it would suck if that sharp-nailed, no-organ bitch had taken off with my spleen.
“Who, or what, was that?” Vanessa asked, handing me my mask.
“Oh that.” I waved my hand and mask in the air, still unable to straighten fully. “That was the lady who saved me from the Tulpa’s giant microwave, only to try and eat my heart with her spiked teeth. She’s impervious to the law of gravity”-I think she dissipated and reappeared behind me-“and she wanted to show me what was on the other side of that bloody portal.”
I jerked my head in the direction of the fixed star, proud of myself for how calm I sounded about the whole thing. So why were the others gaping at me with expressions of disbelief? All except Warren.
“What was she wearing?” he wanted to know. That was Warren, always picking up on the important stuff.
I rolled my eyes. “Nothing that I could see. Maybe a bodysuit, but it was made out of the same material as her skin.”
“Which was?” he prompted, like he knew there was more.
“Bubbles.” I winced at how stupid that sounded and amended my statement. “Maybe bubbles. Maybe Saran Wrap, I don’t know. It was hard to tell. Ouch.” I doubled up again.
Warren began mumbling to himself, his homeless mien taking on an authentic aspect, before his head snapped back my way. “Tell me what happened again, from the time you first saw her to the moment we scared her away. Don’t leave anything out.”
So leaning against the greasy auto shop fence, I recounted everything I could about Vincent’s death, our gravity-defying escape, and the way the woman made a point of bringing me to this portal. My chest was still on fire when I finished, but my breathing was even again, my glyph had faded, and the pain in my side was gone. Maybe I’d kept my spleen after all.
Warren grimaced, turning his sun-baked features into craggy ridges. “So she could have removed you from this plane earlier, but chose to bring you here first.”
“And I bet that’s the reason why,” Tekla said, jerking her head at the star shining like a ruby above the doorway.
I glanced from Warren, clearly disturbed, to Tekla, who only appeared resigned. Then I noticed the others were doing the same, curiosity as bold as question marks on their face. The whole troop, I realized, was seeing a colored portal for the very first time. And Micah-the most senior troop member next to Warren and Tekla-was studying it fervently.
“What is it?” I asked, able to straighten now.
Warren didn’t answer, turning away, running his hands over his head, but Tekla sighed heavily, her large eyes like dark globes in her thin face. “It’s a breach into the other reality. It’s the cause of all our vibrational chaos.”
“Which means?” Riddick prompted as he scratched his goatee.
“It means we’ve found the cause of the elemental outbursts.” Warren whirled again, rubbing at the back of his neck. “This woman, this being-”
“The Tulpa called her a double-walker,” I offered.
Tekla and Warren looked at each other. “This double-walker,” he said evenly. “She’s been tearing holes in the fabric of our reality instead of using the portals. There have to be a half dozen of them.”
“You mean that’s not a portal?”
Warren shook his head. “It’s an open wound.”
Limping forward to get a better look, I was breathing normally by the time I reached the shop’s door. My side had closed up too, which was a great relief. I wouldn’t die, at least not today.
Up close, it was easy to see why Warren called it a wound. The portal’s blazing light was as steady as any other, brilliant but for the deep red sheen that continually ran over its surface, like blood dripping, though it never fell. Yet the outline was less starlike the closer one drew, its edges jagged as though ripped. I reached up…
“Olivia! No!”
And gently rubbed a fingertip over the star.
Tekla was there, slapping my hand away…too late. A crack sounded as the star clamped down over my hand like a Venus flytrap, and my fingertips immediately went numb, dozens of stinging barbs puncturing the printless pads. An acute and tortured scream echoed across the parking lot. Then, just as abruptly, the tiny star released me, and all five points curled in on themselves, a fundamentally protective gesture.