I remembered the sudden longing the silver misty world had woken in me, and took a startled breath. “She’s your daughter. The last Rider, the one who’s missing. And she’s strong enough to call you home. But me, I’m not from that world. I can resist that call. But I’m not—” I shivered again, staring up at him. “I’m not like Marie, my magic doesn’t work like hers. That’s why you need me to make a—” I couldn’t say the last word, not out loud, not to the primal god on his horse before me. “My magic would overrule the power of that world, the one the Rider calls home. You could use our—” I still couldn’t say it. “You could stay in my world. Led by a child with shamanic magic.”
“A child would be best,” Cernunnos whispered. “Blood of my blood is bound to me whether we like it or not. Blood of your blood would bear much stronger ties to your world than any child I’ve sired before. Blood of our blood would be rich with power.” He lifted his stallion’s reins in a clenched fist. “But you, little shaman, you will do. Choose!”
“Just as long as you keep me drugged.” I touched my temple, remembering the green fog of his power. “No. No!”
A feral grin slipped over Cernunnos’s mouth. “Do you know what this place is, gwjld, that you have brought me to? Neither your world nor mine. There is no binding here.”
A sick feeling knotted my stomach. Cernunnos grinned again, sharp canines curving over his lower lip a moment. “A land of peace, shaman. They are traveling souls, without defenses, and we are beyond worlds.” He threw his head back again, ash-colored hair flinging back over his shoulders, and let out another spire-shaking bellow, this one more like a hunter’s horn than the wounded stag. When he lifted his head again, his brilliant eyes were narrow slits, full of smug anger. The crown of horn lost its subtlety, sweeping back from his skull in elegant, heavy whorls. His neck and shoulders thickened as I watched, body changing to support the greater weight of the full crown. “You have chosen,” he snarled. His smile was wicked, so sharp it made me cold. “We ride.”
Morrison waved smelling salts under my nose and I came awake with a shock.
CHAPTER 24
“No!” I sat up with a shriek, knocking Morrison’s hand away with all the strength I had. The vial of smelling salts flew out of his hand and bounced over the steps, skidding to a halt in the slushy snow. “No, no, oh, shit, no, I’ve got to go back, I’ve got to get back!”
Morrison stared at me, dumbfounded. I wanted to hit him for not understanding, even though I knew I sounded like a lunatic. “I’ve got to get back!”
“Funny,” Morrison said through clenched teeth, “I thought you just came back.”
“No, no! There, out there, I just let Cernunnos loose on, oh, fuck, I’ve got to get back!”
“Should I sedate her, Captain?” someone behind my back asked. Morrison looked up, disgusted.
“Sedate a head injury. Bright idea there.”
All I needed was the reminder. Pain exploded through the back of my skull like it had been lying in wait. It grew progressively worse as I continued to shout at Morrison, frustration and fear rendering me more incoherent by the moment. Finally he picked up a handful of gritty slush and threw it in my face, which shut me up, as much to his surprise as mine.
“Once more,” he growled, “from the top, this time with complete sentences.”
I took a deep breath and wiped my face clean. Both actions sent ripples of pain down my back, muscle seizing up where I’d hit the stairs. I was sitting on the second one from the bottom, now. Apparently I’d not only wiped out, I’d then slid. And the police station had security cameras running twenty-four/seven. I’d end up in their Greatest Hits collection as soon as they were sure I was all right. I reached back and touched the back of my head. My fingers came away bloody and slushy. Muscles in my back spasmed again.
I explained in as few sentences as I could. Morrison’s expression went from disbelieving to disappointed to dismayed as it became clear I, at least, didn’t think I was hallucinating.
“You used to be so straight.” He stood up, looking frustrated and disgusted. I decided not to follow suit just yet, trying to concentrate enough to heal myself through the rhythmic throbbing of my head. I couldn’t, gave it up as a bad job, and concentrated on climbing to my feet instead.
“I’ve got to find a way back.” I clutched at Morrison’s sleeve to keep myself upright. It wasn’t dignified, but it was almost worth the startled expression it garnered. Maybe I needed to work on the damsel in distress routine.
“You’ve got a job here to do,” Morrison said dismissively. I stared at him, not quite believing I’d heard him right. “Come on, Walker.” He handed me off to Bruce, who made quiet fussing sounds while I looked slack-jawed at Morrison. “You want to save a world, save this one. We’ve got plenty of lost souls right here.”
“You don’t get it.” I let go of Bruce’s arm and immediately wished I hadn’t. The deed done, though, I took a step forward, trying to tower over Morrison. My shoes weren’t tall enough. “For one thing, that place was full of souls and a lot of them were from this world. The Hunt’s harvest there is going to leave a lot of catatonic dying bodies here. But that’s not really the point.” My voice was rising again. For some reason it did that around Morrison. “The fucking point, Morrison, is that I screwed up, and there is nobody else to clean up my mess. I’ve got to get Cernunnos back into this world so he and Herne can be dealt with here. Ca-fucking-piche?” I’d somehow ended up nose to nose with the police captain again, shouting at him from so close I could have kissed him.
I wished I would stop thinking that.
Morrison held his mouth tight, meeting my eyes without giving an inch. “I understand,” he said, low and harsh, “that you are an officer working in my department and you will God-damned well do as your superior officer tells you to do.”
“Fine,” I said, “I fucking quit.” From behind me, the collected officers let out a collective gasp. I yanked the badge out of my jacket pocket and threw it into the slush at Morrison’s feet. Snow and water sprayed up over our shoes. His gaze flickered to the badge in the snow and back up to mine.
“You don’t want to do this,” he said very quietly.
The real bitch of the thing was, he was right. But there I was with the badge in the snow and my dignity all tangled around it, and hell if I could think of a way to back down. The rage poured out of me, though, leaving me tired and remembering that I was injured. My head throbbed along with my heartbeat.
“Then let me do this my way.” I didn’t have any fight left in me, suddenly. Standing up took almost everything I had, and my voice was quiet. “I have a responsibility, Morrison. You’re the one who wanted me to live up to my potential.” I spread my hands. “I’m trying.”
Morrison looked down at the badge in the slush again, and back at me again. “Somebody get her a paramedic.” He stepped around me, leaving me on the second step of the station. I crouched very cautiously and picked up the badge. I guessed I’d won that round, but it didn’t feel like much of a victory.
Bruce offered me a steadying arm as I straightened, ushering me into the station. I leaned over his desk and punched out numbers on his phone while Linda, one of the paramedics, tried to doctor the back of my head. It hurt and I kept flinching. She kept swearing.
“Tripoli Cabs,” a rapid-fire, unfriendly male voice said into the phone almost before it rang. “This is Keith. Where do you need a pickup?”