Othermoon (3 page)

“Your dream could be related to what happened,” said Richard. “But what was the message
of importance? We couldn’t hear much over the storm.”

“No,” I said. “But I’m pretty sure, whatever the message was, it was meant for me.”

CHAPTER 3

The marble-floored, slant-ceilinged lobby of the Luxor hotel was choked with cigarette
smoke and bad copies of monumental pharaoh statues. It smelled of dirty metal, alcohol,
and menthol. Off in the casino portion, where teenagers were technically not allowed,
waitresses in see-through linen skirts set free drinks down next to glassy-eyed gamblers.

So much noise.
It bounced off all the metal and plastic around me as I paced near the hind end of
a sandstone sphinx close to the banks of one-armed bandits. I tried to ignore the
clicking of glasses, the clanging of slot machines with fake tumblers falling into
place, the
tick-tick
of heels on marble, the
ching-ching
of the simulated sound of quarters falling into metal trays. Occasionally, a buzzer
would low like an ox as a lucky winner yelled out in victory.

I was itchy and on high alert. I hated Vegas, with its asphalt and dust and desperation.
The metal in the machines set the nerves in my skin on high alert. Plus, Mom, Richard,
and I had been followed as we left Burbank in the moving van. It had taken us seven
hours to get here instead of five because we had to be sure we lost them.

But it was even more than that. Any second now I’d see Caleb for the first time in
weeks. Soon I would touch him, feel his strong hands on me, bury my nose in the crook
of his neck to smell his fresh thunderstorm scent and hear the steady, reassuring
beat of his heart. I wasn’t shaking visibly, but inside me something was thrumming
like a violin with a bow running over its strings.

A squeal broke through the rattles and bells. A squeal I recognized. I adjusted my
heavy backpack, made sure no security guards were watching, and headed deeper into
the forbidden den of slot machines. I kept my head low so the ceiling cameras wouldn’t
see I was underage, angled past an elderly woman with perfectly coiffed white hair
compulsively hitting the button on a one-eyed bandit, and found November bouncing
up and down next to Siku as their slot machine shot out a ticket.

She looked miniscule next to Siku’s broad-shouldered form, her short brown hair spiking
up as if in surprise. Her tight skinny jeans were tucked into short boots with soft
soles that I knew from experience made no sound when she walked. She wore a bright
red “Anderson’s Pawn & Loan” T-shirt under a sleek black leather jacket that hugged
her waist, looking eleven times hipper than Siku, who sported his usual wrinkled brown
flannel shirt. He was even taller than when I’d seen him last. His shoulders had to
be at least a yard wide, narrowing down to hips that barely held up his baggy jeans.
His small suitcase sat next to them, November’s enormous bag towering over it.

November’s squinty eyes lit up as they fell on me. “Stripes! Look, we won!” She threw
her thin arms around me, her face burrowing into my chest, where she delivered a raspberry.

“Yeah, but how much have you spent?” I hugged her back as well as I could given the
height difference, then lifted my head to accept Siku’s dry kiss on my cheek.

“More than this.” He held up the tickets of their winnings. “We’ll stop now.”

“But you can’t win if you don’t spend!” November let go of me to tug on his free arm.

“Actually, you’re not supposed to gamble if you’re under twenty-one,” I said.

Siku dropped his gaze down to November’s, one eyebrow lifting, and she deflated. “Okay,
okay. You can’t win much at the slots anyway. We should try roulette. Siku looks at
least twenty-five!” She bounced up and down like a six-year-old.

Siku lifted his eyes from her jitterbugging to me. “Two full-size Snickers and two
Cokes,” he said.

November shoved him indignantly. “Don’t
explain
me!”

He ignored her, not budging. “Have you seen the others yet?”

“No.” I gazed around the lobby, hoping to hear or see either London or Caleb, but
mostly Caleb. “Were you followed here?”

“Didn’t see anyone,” said Siku.

“But we went around the block a few times and all that jazz to be sure before we let
the cab drop us off here,” November said. “Just like you said, boss lady.”

“I’m not the . . .” I shook my head. No point in arguing over nicknames with November.
She called us whatever her mood dictated. “My parents and I had to shake a tail on
the way here. So the Tribunal might know which town we’re in.”

“Inevitable,” said Siku. “And if they know where our families live, they also know
where Arnaldo is. We should be prepared for that when we get close to his house.”

“Do we really have to drive there?” November asked, riffling the tickets in Siku’s
hand. “It’s pretty far from here, like, six hours.”

“Airports are easier to watch than roads,” I said. “It’s a numbers game.”

“Like gambling.” November grinned, showing all her tiny teeth. “It’s one of the reasons
I like hanging with you, Dez. Life is never dull.”

“It’s a gamble whether you’re hanging with me or not,” I said. I wanted to say how
much I longed for a dull life, how hard it had been to leave Mom and Richard in their
new secret apartment. Their life here was just as much of a gamble as our lives as
shifters. But this wasn’t the time or place for that. I could talk about such things
with Caleb, when we were alone. The ache inside me was growing.

I caught a familiar scent of fur and snow and turned my head. November and Siku must
have caught it too, because they also swiveled to look down the row of shiny metal
and neon to see London sauntering toward us with that long, loping gait. She was letting
the hair dye grow out, so her roots were now three inches of pale blond, darkening
suddenly to pitch black down to jagged ends that swung near her shoulders. A new gold
nose ring glinted in her left nostril, and she’d added a few pounds to her lanky frame.
They filled out her once-starved face and made her silvery T-shirt and jeans cling
becomingly. Like me, she wore a large backpack.

“Wolfie!” November practically leaped on London, clinging like a monkey. “Girl, you
look righteous.” She pulled away, head cocked. “You’ve been snacking.”

“On rats.” London smothered November’s angry squeak with a proper hug. I embraced
the two of them, and then Siku lumbered over to wrap his long arms around all of us.

“Okay, Siks.” November’s voice came out muffled. “Eventually, we’ll need to breathe.”

London hugged me a little longer, then pulled away, not meeting my eyes. I went immediately
on alert. “I have a message for you.”

At the word “message,” a chill ran over me.

Could it be something else coming via Othersphere? Or from Lazar? But no, he wouldn’t
use London for that. “From whom?”

Her thin lips twisted, as if pushing back reluctance. Then she smiled, but it was
forced. “Just follow the snow.”

She pointed. Puzzled, I saw, falling onto the loud, semi-Egyptian carpet, a few flakes
of snow. I looked up, but there was no hole in the ceiling or snow machine above.
The snowflakes were wafting down from nowhere. I caught a whiff of pine sap, and something
else—something unearthly, yet strangely familiar.

I walked toward the snow flurry, vaguely aware of London following, Siku and November
close behind her. The flakes fell out of nowhere on my face and hands, pinpricks of
cold. Others dusted my shoulders.

“Over there,” November whispered.

I looked up to see the branch of an evergreen tree wedged between a wall and a plastic
sheet which blocked off a quiet area in the dark lobby, marked with an orange cone
and a sign that said PARDON OUR DUST.

From the tantalizing scent creeping through the plastic, there were trees and more
snow beyond it. I hesitated.
It could be a trap.
London had seemed unwilling to tell me about this . . . whatever it was.

But November was beaming at me like a searchlight. She gave me a shove. “Go on, stupid!”

So I pushed aside the curtain.

And stepped into the winter forest from a dream.

What should have been half-painted walls, pillars, and bare floor awaiting new carpet
was instead a moonlit clearing in a woodland hushed with snowfall. Pine trees twenty
stories high reached their dark fragrant branches toward a clouded sky that shook
snow down upon me.

A fluffy white rabbit, big as a poodle, hopped over a frozen stream that wound between
white-outlined bushes and snow-covered grass. And all the clanging and itching that
invaded my senses from the machines outside was blown away on a night breeze full
of scents I both recognized and did not. It was not a wind from this world. I breathed
it in, and something else. A hint of once-stormy sky, of leaves quiet after a rain.

He walked toward me, dark eyes burning, his long black coat brushing the snow off
encroaching branches. The snow rabbit paused to watch him go by, unafraid. A flood
of heat pushed my heart into my throat and filled me with something so light I thought
I’d float away, or faint from the pleasure. I tried to say his name, say anything,
but I couldn’t speak.

“I found all this in the shadow here,” he said. His voice was more harmonious in person
than on the phone. I felt like I could dive through its depths. “And I knew it was
meant for you.”

I didn’t need to talk. I ran one hand along his strong jaw, up into his dark tousled
hair. In his night-black eyes I saw a glint of gold. His lips bent into a knowing
smile. Then his arms were around me, warm and strong, our bodies pressed hip to hip,
heart to heart.

“I love it,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he said, in that low murmur that was, yet was not, a whisper. His mouth
brushed against my eyelid, soft and warm. I inhaled, taking in all of him; then he
stopped my breath with a kiss.

Time held its breath along with me. The boundary between our bodies melted, and the
whole world seemed to melt right along with it.

I brushed at something on my shoulder, wondering vaguely if I could somehow make a
living kissing Caleb for the rest of my life.

Caleb looked up and frowned past me. His lips were reddened, his eyes unfocused.

“
I said,
there’s an old woman outside wearing an earpiece and whispering into a microphone,
pretending not to look at us.”

It was London’s voice, with a harder edge than usual. Caleb’s gaze sharpened, and
I turned to look. London stood there, brow creased with embarrassment. “Sorry to interrupt
your faery forest and all. I didn’t say anything to ’Ember and Siku because the old
lady is at the slot machine right next to them.”

I blinked. “An old woman with white hair wearing a white sweater with sequins on it?”

London nodded. “Yeah.”

“I saw her earlier. She was at least five rows away before. If she’s right outside
now with an earpiece, she’s got to be following us.”

“The Tribunal.” Caleb swept the forest clearing with a commanding glance, and around
us, trees and snow began to vanish. The stream faded away, and a workbench covered
with paint cans popped back into existence. Caleb’s power had grown since I’d last
seen him conjure things from Othersphere.

“We’ve got to ditch her and anyone else following us before we go to Arnaldo’s,” I
said.

“There’s a security door this way,” Caleb said, gesturing toward the back wall I could
now see behind us. Someone had started to paint it lapis blue. “Amaris is waiting
in the car.” He took his phone out of his pocket and dialed. “I’ll tell her to get
ready.”

“November and Siku are still out there,” said London, starting back toward the plastic
sheeting.

“Wait.” I grabbed her arm. “If we all bolt, they’ll know we’re on to them. We’ve got
a better chance of giving them the slip if we don’t seem alarmed. Look casual, go
out there, and send November in, but don’t say why. They’re listening. Then you and
Siku follow one at a time.”

“Why does November get to come back in here first?” London said, frowning.

“Because we need her lock picks,” I said. “The hotel’s not going to leave security
doors unlocked.”

London’s face cleared into an appreciative smile. “I hate you, smarty pants,” she
said, then did her best laid-back amble past the plastic sheet.

“No, get the car close to the exit. We’ll find you,” Caleb said into his phone, speaking
to his sister. He intertwined his warm fingers with mine and pulled me toward the
back wall, where I spotted the outline of a door, unlabeled. “You released the parking
brake, right? Okay. Just back up slowly out of the space and you’ll be fine.
You’ll be fine, Amaris.
See you soon.”

He hung up and shook his head. “Doesn’t officially have her license yet, but it’s
not a problem.”

“She doesn’t know how to drive?” I asked.

“We’ve been practicing for weeks.” A flicker of worry narrowed his eyes; then he shook
his head. “She’ll be fine.”

“She’ll be fine,” I repeated, like a mantra.

November came bouncing up, wheeling her bulging suitcase precariously behind her.
“London said to come in, but she looks like she’s got a stomachache. Did she catch
you guys making out or something?”

“That’s not—” I cut myself off and lowered my voice. “That little old lady outside
is following us,” I said. “That’s why London’s upset.”

November’s spiky eyebrows rose. “Oh, Tigger, you are so wonderfully clueless. That’s
not what’s making Wolfie so grumpy. Don’t you see how she—?”

“Not now, ’Ember,” Caleb said in a warning tone I didn’t quite understand. “Focus.
See this? It’s a locked door, and we need to get through it. Now.”

“So we’re making a quiet break for it back here?” November showed all her teeth in
her hungry smile, and reached into her pocket to pull out three slim metal tools held
together with a shiny chewing gum wrapper. “That’s my cue.”