Illusion (7 page)

“An address then?” the
Conjurare
said.

“Who gives out their address in Sloughville?”

“You must know something. Or know someone who does?”

“Truly, pater, she’s not been here tonight. I’d know.”

“Yet our sensors tell us she entered the building.” The
Conjurare
hesitated a moment. “I don’t know why you’re all so suspicious of the law. We’re here to protect the common people.” He swiveled to face the patrons leaning on the bar.

“What about you, hero?” From beneath the table she saw the
Conjurare
shove the biker out of his way. The guy fell aside, scrabbling on all fours to move out of kicking range. The
Conjurare
walked toward Don and stood toe to toe with him, crowding the fire mage.

“Don’t know anything,” Don said, his gruff voice casual. But Maya could hear the loathing beneath, and released a breath, hoping he’d keep his temper under control.

“You know something. I can see your emotions stirring the air.”

Damn, he’s an empath.
Maya’s pulse rate sped up.

“If you sense anything it’s
canis
hunting for snatch,” said Don, staring straight ahead.

The tonal emphasis on
canis
must have amplified through the armor along with the few gasps from the crowd. A bolt of electrical energy arced out of the
Conjurare’s
hand. It raced over Don, lighting his body in a blue haze like liquid rocket fuel. Don twitched and convulsed, bellowing a raspy epithet, and the soldier stepped back as red sparks showered through the air. People backed away, but the soldiers trained the particle beams on them and the stampede settled to an uneasy fidget. The smell of burning hair and flesh found its way under the table and Maya’s face twisted as she imagined the pain Don must be in. Don growled, an inhuman cry that ended with a terrible choking gasp. She licked dry lips and dug her heels in to resist leaping out from under the table.

“Please, finish what you were saying,” the
Conjurare
said, extinguishing the fire with one hand. “Don’t forget we made you mutt.” The last vestiges of humanity left his voice and the human cop shifted on his feet but didn’t intervene.

Time to give herself up. She couldn’t let Don take the fall for something they thought she’d done, and they’d pick up Jane at any moment. It felt like she’d reached some kind of impasse because her stomach settled and she let go of the warrior’s leg. He reached down, slamming his hand on her shoulder, sending liquid heat right to her toes.

“She’s left an impression. I’ve registered her again. We’re on yellow,” a mundane police officer said, reading from his wrist-link.

He leaped toward Jane, scanning her body. The robotic surveillance beeped, picking up an imprint trail. The cop pivoted to the booth. A glaring light haloed the banquette like a bloodred moon, tinting everything with a magenta glow and she tensed, ready to run.

The crash of the bar door flying open amplified in Maya’s ears. Feathers rustled. Patrons shrieked. People shifted, ducking and moving despite the soldiers, and a particle beam went off. A glass cylinder splintered, spraying ionized gas through the room and leaving a trail of glowing filament and fluorescent blue on the walls. A woman screamed, and the human soldiers hauled ass over to a dark corner. Maya spotted a clear path like a laser beam under the tables leading to the corridor. A flapping of wings competed with screams and more shots fired by the police.

“Psychopomps,” Jane yelled above the noise. No one wanted to be snatched by a vulture and taken to the land of the dead, especially if they were still alive at the time. She threw herself to the floor, landing on her stomach. Their eyes met across the carpet and Jane flicked a glance at the hallway. A body skidded across the bar, knocking over bottles and ashtrays in a deluge of liquid ash.

Maya nodded. On the count of three she’d get out of here.

The
Conjurare
screamed to hold fire and Resheph’s hand pressed against her head. He twisted, bending down to stare into her face.

“I’m guessing a Code Four is something you want to avoid,” he said.

Smart-ass. From beneath the table she mouthed, “Please, help Jane.” Then she ducked to her stomach, rough riding over broken test tubes and cigarette butts, trying not to think of the sticky mess beneath her hands. She heard him bellow a command. A burst of energy hit the room and her body lifted then dropped with a thud. A high wind circled, moving bags, bottles, and glasses from surfaces and swirling them together in mini vortexes. A pent-up wave of power detonated against the ceiling with a sonic boom. The smell of ozone hit the air and people screamed, huddling in groups while the cops cursed, bellowing for silence.

“Find the spell caster. High magic,” a voice cried and a glass ashtray hit the floor and spun, flying in front of her, barely missing her nose. She grasped the pole in the next booth and hauled herself between the chair legs and the wall, squirming. One booth to go. Something grabbed her leg and she squealed, scrabbling at the floor. A piece of glass sliced across her palm, but she ignored the sting, kicking and writhing until the pressure released. She gritted her teeth and wriggled fast, trying to keep to the darkest shadows against the wall. Her tank top rode high on her belly. She edged closer to the hallway. If they caught her she was as good as dead. Up ahead she spotted a slice of light from the halogens in the corridor.

She dragged herself out and jumped to her feet, dizzy from adrenaline, and bolted into the hallway, grabbing the first doorknob with weak hands. A gloved hand covered hers and hard metal pressed against her back.

“I thought you’d be here.” The
Conjurare
cop spoke in her ear, sending a bolt of heat down her spine. He twisted the knob and opened the door, pushing her with his chest against her back toward a landing splashed with light. A wooden staircase led down to dark cellars smelling of wine and disinfectant. “After you.”

“I didn’t do it,” Maya said. In the background the wind rose in intensity, howling like a lost soul.

He gripped her shoulder, shoving her forward. She caught herself on the wall before falling. “I can’t say I’m not impressed by the distraction. Which House is helping you?”

Maya stepped into the cellar and the door closed behind them. The
Conjurare
beamed a thread of light onto the stairs. There was a
click
and a bare bulb cast yellow light on the stone walls below.

“You’re not going to believe me, whatever I say.”

“Try me,” he said in a liquid voice. He prodded her in the back and she stepped down the flight of stairs.

She reached the bottom on shaky legs. A cold shaft of damp air washed over her face and she turned, exhaling when she saw that he’d lifted his visor. He could have had laser treatment to remove the pockmarked scars, but he must have liked the look.

He smiled, enjoying her reaction.

“I went to work,” she said. “The Horus Master possessed Jhara and forced me to draw a pretty picture. Then Jhara belted me and I left. Period.”

“And the explosion. How did you do it? You left a bio blueprint but we couldn’t extract the magical base from the nuclear matrix. A human can’t spell cast and your profile isn’t in the genomic library.”

She scooted back, cursing herself for leaving a blood sample.

He advanced closer.

“Look, if this is an interrogation I want the mundane cops here,” she said.

“This is out of their league. You’re not human, so you’re out of their jurisdiction.”

“Then I must be a lower mage. My mother was human. Maybe one of my ancestors slept with a mage, but I didn’t know until today that I had any special talent.”

“It’s impossible for any mage to do what you’ve done, let alone a hybrid.”

“I swear.”

“You’re a biohazard. The whole block surrounding the factory went up.” He tugged a black square out of his belt pocket and waved a hand. It unfolded several times, forming a black plastic shroud that floated to the ground. She lurched back at the sight of the body bag.

“We can clone you dead or alive. I’m not taking chances.” His jaw muscles ticked. He was troubled and was trying hard to hide it.

“Look, Jhara was dabbling in all sorts of crap. It had nothing to do with me.” She’d started babbling and she closed her mouth with a snap. Sweat dripped down her back and she shuddered, bracing herself for what was coming.

“We’re well aware of Jhara’s activities. But nothing he could do would leave a mound of crawling insects two stories high.” He shook his head. “Never seen anything like it. The cockroaches wore your profile, stank like death before they scuttled off.” He keyed into his wrist-pad and the particle beam on his shoulder blinked red. “Whatever you are, we don’t need another race in the mix.” He leaned forward and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back and exposing her neck.

The world contracted and to her dazed ears the sounds of screams and shots receded. All she could hear was the particle beam humming to life. Her scalp thrummed in agonizing pain.

“Leave her be.” There was a flash in her peripheral vision and Resheph materialized, his body appearing like small squares on a
holovid
screen, flickering before becoming solid. “She doesn’t know what she can do.” He was taller than the
Conjurare
and tension ramped up.

“Who are you?” The
Conjurare’s
face contorted. He pressed his wrist-pad. A red arc triggered from the sensor gun. Resheph swung his sword with a two-handed maneuver, fielding the particle beam before it hit Maya’s neck. The current hit the flat of the blade with a preternatural flash. It arced back, slicing the
Conjurare
across the face, carving his head in two. The cop gurgled. His face stayed together for a moment before one eye and part of his mouth slid off, falling to the floor. The wall behind the cop smoked. Maya stared at the blood gushing from the open half of the cop’s head. A scatter pattern of blood pooled on the dusty floor and dripped down the walls.

The smell of blood and excrement filled the room. Maya bent over, gagging, bringing up nothing but bile. She felt a hand on her nape and a soft breath on her hair.

“Don’t touch me,” she said.

“You need to move.”

The sound of stamping feet and screams rebounded overhead. Dust floated from the wooden boards holding up the cellar roof. She opened her eyes and recoiled when she saw the
Conjurare
cop had fallen into his own body bag.

Resheph jerked her toward a half circle of vertical iron bars high up on the far wall. It had to be a basement hatch leading to the alley outside. She stumbled on deadened feet while her chest constricted, cutting off oxygen. She tugged on his arm, stumbling to a halt when he released her, and pulled the spellbox from her back pocket. After thumbing through the contents for endless seconds she found a relaxant spell and dry swallowed the bitter taste. He watched with an inscrutable look on his face.

A few moments later her vision cleared, but the blood thundered so loud in her ears it almost overwhelmed the noise from above. “Let’s get out of here.” Her voice was a tiny squeak and she cleared her throat.

He looked as if he understood what it cost her to ask for his help. “Sensible decision.” He turned, dragging a crate beneath the window. Moon spilled through the horizontal bars, casting stripes on the basement floor.

She glared at his back and breathed a sigh as the tightness in her throat eased.

He muttered in Latin and hefted his sword, cutting through the bars with a spark of fire like welding metal. Maya jumped back, staring at his broad back.

Footsteps echoed above their heads. “Hurry,” she said.

Resheph pulled a black mass out of his pocket and tossed it to the floor. It collapsed, forming a viscous liquid that spread up the walls. The substance hardened to polished granite.

“Delay,” Resheph said, looking over the barrier with a critical eye.

Someone rattled the door at the top of the stairs. “Sir, it’s jammed,” said a low, muffled voice.

“Well, break through, you idiot.” There was a dull thud against the door and it splintered. She stepped closer to Resheph, expecting a victorious cry from the top of stairs.

“There’s only a rock wall.” The officer sounded confused.

“It’s high magic. Get the
Conjurare
.”

Resheph reached down with outstretched hands. “Here, the gap is large enough for you to crawl through.”

“What about my friends?”

“I’ll delay the guards and get your dark-haired friend to safety.”

Her knees felt weak and she stiffened them, afraid they’d buckle. Upstairs something hit the stone, a heavy
thunk
like cars colliding. She didn’t have a lot of choice; she needed to get out. “I’m going back to my apartment. I’ll be there for half an hour, and then I’m getting out of town. Please look after Jane. And tell her I need money.” Embarrassment heated her cheeks and she was grateful for the semidarkness hiding her shame.

A blast of energy rumbled as it hit the wall and the room shuddered. A streak of light poured through a seam in the rock. The sounds of screams filtered into the room.

The police voices grew louder. “Sir, headquarters are on line. There’s a commotion at the U.S. embassy. Some animals on a killing spree.”

“Jesus Christ, can I get a break tonight? This whole operation is going to shit,” said a second officer. The stone crumbled and shards of rock spilled down the stairs, letting shafts of light spill into the cellar. “See if she’s in there and let’s get out of here. The psychopomps are setting off detonations.” Something thundered—an echoing boom above their heads—and the light bulb exploded, showering powdered glass all over the room.

“I’ll find you at your apartment,” Resheph said, lifting her into the aperture.

Maya reached up and snagged the bars as he hefted her high. Feet thudded down the stairs and she half fell into the crawl space, bars scraping her stomach. She hoisted herself through, lurching to her feet. She found herself in a dark alley with hover car lights flashing at one end and deep black shadows in the opposite direction.