Shadowglass (16 page)

Or, someone who could find the mirror without looking. Someone who could close their eyes and search the air for a little metal ball.

Someone like Indigo.

Blood had clotted on Quang’s scrawny forearm, and Indigo slid his middle finger through it, delicate, watching the mess smear and collect on his claw. Absent, like his mind wandered elsewhere. Abruptly he looked up, his silvery mouth tight. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

I shivered. “Never mind.”

He brushed past me, his wing edge tingling silvery dust onto my shoulder. “Look, it’s still whole.”

Dumb, I followed, around the counter into Quang’s dim office. Plastic chair piled with computer parts, flies crawling on an empty pizza box, an electric motor in dusty pieces on the cracked laminate bench. Oil, spriggan sweat, and beer twisted the air sour. I wrinkled my nose. “Eww.”

Indigo poked at a rusty gray shelf near the floor, copper claws clattering on steel. Floor to ceiling with boxes, old televisions, broken computer monitors, and DVD players.

I peered over his shoulder. A scratched gray safe bolted to the floor, bronze combination rings holding fast, the numbers worn off by greasy spriggan fingers.

He tapped at the mechanism, sounding its thickness. “Want a go?”

My belly warmed, and my fingers itched to try, even as I shivered at the thought of actually working in front of him. “Can I? You mean that?”

“Hell, no. Think we’ve got all day?”

My heart crushed flat. I bit my lip, yet another flush wetting my cheeks. He flashed me a little grin, and now I didn’t know if he meant it or not.

I sniffed, hurt, trying to pretend I wasn’t watching like a hunting vampire, already straining my ears for the telltale clinks of tumblers. “Fine. Be like that. I’m not so shabby, you know. See if you can impress me. I’m ready.”

“I’m sure you are.” He clamped his left hand over the door’s edge, and the metal sizzled and melted.

He hissed and yanked back his hand, his bangle jangling. Molten iron dripped on the carpet in a lick of blue flame, and the door fell open, its ragged edge smoking red.

I gaped. I couldn’t do that. Blaze probably couldn’t even do that, not in such a hurry. “That’s cheating!”

“Sue me.” He tugged the door aside, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his arms, and gave the contents the barest glance. “It’s not here. We should be leaving.”

I barely heard him. Prismed light dazzled me, twinkling like tumbling stars, and my pulse stuttered alive. A tangle of bright jewels, still fragrant with my sweat and a faint ashen stink. My sparklies. Ooh, yes. Mine.

I thrust my hand inside, and diamonds and silver tumbled over my wrist, mixing with my new bracelet and shining in vestiges of sun. My heart flooded with pleasure. One was lovely, but more was better. And Quang didn’t need them anymore. “These are mine, remember? You said they suited me. Which was a real nice thing to say, by the way, if you don’t mind . . .”

But Indigo stood and sniffed the air, ignoring me. “Iron blades downstairs. Steel earrings. Something round and tinny with a screw. Someone’s coming.”

He tugged me up by my elbow with sharp blue fingers. I yelped and stumbled, clutching my diamonds to my chest. “But what about the mirror? We haven’t looked—”

“It’s made of iron and lead, Ice. I know what it smells like. Trust me. It’s not here.” He sniffed again, a dark sheen of sweat on his cheek, and his eyes burned red. “Not tin. Brass. That’s Joey DiLuca’s cane. Time to go.”

“Wh—” Now I heard it, too: sly footsteps creaking on the stairwell. Fear hacked at my nerves. I dropped my voice to a whisper. “DiLuca? What’s he doing here?”

“Same as you. Same as me. Time to go.”

“But what—?”

“The mirror’s Kane’s. Joey wants it. Simple enough for you?”

“But we don’t have it!”

“Think he’ll care?”

My blood curdled with dismay. That damn mirror again. If it really was Snakeboy DiLuca slithering up those stairs, he had cast-iron balls even coming to this neighborhood, where we all paid the Valentis protection.

And Joey didn’t exactly have a reputation for patience. Which meant he’d be in a fine wing-ripping mood when he found the mirror missing.

My stomach shriveled. Not good.

Indigo skipped over the counter with a sharp wingbeat and landed in a crouch on the floor. Dust danced around him, streaked with sunlight from the thin chicken-wired skylights above. “Any exit back there? I don’t taste anything.”

At last my muscles jerked into action. I stuffed my diamonds in my bag and flung my head about, hair flying in my face, looking for a loft, a trapdoor, a crack—any way we could get out.

No windows. Shelves, unbroken carpet, brick pillars and a heating pipe, ceiling fading into darkness. I scrabbled at the edge of a patch of linoleum and uncovered only concrete. My heart jittered. “Nope, there’s nothing.”

But he’d already launched himself at the ceiling with a slam of silvery wings. He gripped the window’s edge with steely fingers and slammed his palm into the ragged chicken wire. Zap. Static flickered. The wire glowed, dripping, burning to nothing under his fingers, and he smashed his elbow through the skylight with a grimace, showering the floor with dusty glass shards and a few drops of silvery blood. “Come on.”

Urgency flickered in my veins, yelling at me to move. But infatuation tugged my mouth into a dopey grin, my heart sloshing with delight. Gosh. I felt like Lois Lane. He really was the coolest guy I knew.

“Ice, will you just get up here?” He swung on the jagged window frame from one bulging night-blue arm, scissoring his wings lightly to take his weight, and reached down for me, quicksilver sliding down his muscled forearm.

My heart sighed, fascinated. I could look at him all day when he was like this, all purpose and orders and rampant boy energy. I hopped over the counter and fluttered upward, reaching into the sun for his bloody hand.

“Give me my mirror, you fairy shitsmear.”

A shiver ripped up my spine at that cold, smooth voice, and unwilling I looked down.

Slate-gray suit, narrow pale face, hat tilted over shiny snake-green eyes. Joey flashed me white teeth, and pointed at me with his brass-topped black cane. “And give me your skanky girlfriend, too. I like her.”

Rude fucking gangsters. Anger fired beneath my skin, mirror-bright and dangerous. I battled the raw urge to swoop down there and chew his pointy little nose off, and fluttered higher.

But a high-pitched screech tore at my ears, and sharp fingers snaked around my ankle and yanked.

Air jammed beneath my wings, stalling. I squealed, and kicked at the grinning blue-haired banshee who clung to my ankle with painted nails. My flip-flops flew off and thudded into the shelving, and my toe connected with her cheek, claws ripping in.

She just yowled and grabbed her other hand higher on my calf. Climbing. Dragging me slowly downward, out of Indigo’s reach.

“Ice, come on!” Indigo’s fingertips stretched for mine, and I scrabbled for his hand, but it slipped away.

My heart squelched dread into my throat, and my stolen metal courage failed.

I thrashed my weak wings harder and flailed my legs to get her off me, my pulse racing. But she just pulled harder, her magical shriek chilling my bones.

“I can’t reach!” Desperation thrust fresh sparks into my muscles, and I strained with aching wings and stretched with all my strength toward Indigo’s searching hand. I willed my bones to lengthen, but I couldn’t reach.

“Ice!” Indigo let go of the window and dived for me, but too late.

My wing joints hyperextended with a sick crunch. Agony speared my shoulder blades, and with a final sick judder, my wings buckled and I fell.

My knees thudded into the carpet, burning. Shock jarred through my bones, rattling my skull, and my jaw cracked together, my teeth crunching millimeters from my tongue. I yelped with my mouth shut, strangled, and Indigo darted up and away, cursing in a rain of rusty glitter.

Chill stabbed into my veins. Suddenly, I felt wretchedly alone.

The banshee crowed like a rooster, and rubbed her lavender-scented hair in mine, sniffing me like prey. “Here she is, boss.”

“Thank you, Mina.” Joey strode forward, tossing his cane from hand to narrow hand and stared at me, snake-green eyes glinting cold. He didn’t blink. Not at all.

I swallowed, too-familiar dread icing my blood. I’d heard bad things about this Joey. Nasty, fairyslashing things.

I forced my eyes to stay open, water spilling onto my cheeks. Deep inside I burned to snark at him, spit in his face, but childish terror squeezed my throat closed, and all I could think was,
Please, don’t let him slash me. I can cope with nasty tricks or beatings or even a rape, especially from a human-sized guy like him when it won’t kill me. Just don’t let him cut my wings off.

“Pretty one, aren’t you?” Joey licked thin lips and reached for my face.

I recoiled, flapping my sore wings to jerk myself away. But Mina jammed her knee into my back, jolting me upright. She yanked twin handfuls of my hair and forced me rigid, and I flung my head back and forth until my scalp stung and tore, but I couldn’t get away.

My eyes crossed as Joey’s hand came closer. Alarm punched hard into my diaphragm, and I nearly retched. He’d rip my tongue out. Break my teeth. Tear my nose open. Scratch my eyeballs until they bled. Make me suck him off.

But Joey just touched a cold fingertip to my lips, as if he hushed me. Unwilling, I inhaled the stink of rotting leather and cigarettes.

Indigo hissed, clinging to the ceiling like a spider, his blood plinking faster onto the carpet. “Get your grubby hands off her. Last chance.”

I hadn’t realized he was still there, and foolish gratitude wiped my skin with wet warmth. He could have been miles away by now. Still, no way would he risk himself for me. I was still screwed.

“Taken. Now come the fuck down and give me my mirror, if you don’t wanna see this.” Joey grinned, and at that surreal sight, icy terror crackled up my spine. I struggled, but I could do nothing.

Wet black webs squelched out between his fingers and slithered over my lips.

Disgust wormed under my skin. Joey forced a blackened finger between my lips, dragging scaly skin over my gums, scratching at my teeth with his horrible salty claw, forcing between them to find my tongue. Cold, smooth like a snake’s skin, the sickening tang of salt and moldering meat.

Sour bile burned my throat, bubbling up into my mouth. I choked and tried to bite, but Mina purred and yanked my head back, forcing my jaw open. Joey shoved his fingers in harder. His webs stretched my lips until they tore, my own mango-sweet blood sliding into my mouth. His scales scraped my palate, scrabbling for my tonsils, and I gagged a flood of saliva and bile, helpless tears scorching my eyes.

He didn’t laugh or smile. He wasn’t enjoying my misery. Just doing what was necessary, cold and determined and without hesitation. I almost preferred rape to this. He was just a man, even if he was some kind of weird lizard underneath, and men were satiable. I’d swallow his hard-on and he’d like it and in a few minutes it’d all be over.

But this? This could last a very long time.

Hot downdraft rushed, parting my hair, and suddenly my mouth stung empty and the world gleamed cobalt with the shadow of iron and blood.

Claws dragged over my jaw. My skin ripped, pain sparkling like frost. Copper tingled my tongue. Joey hissed and stumbled, the cane flipping from his hand.

I tried to scramble up, Mina’s fingers still ripping my hair. My belly ring and the zip on my dress yanked taut in abrupt magnetic flux, and Mina screeched like a wounded bird, blood splattering from her face. Suddenly I was free, spitting and choking on bile like I’d just vomited something very yucky.

A burning wet hand grasped my forearm and yanked me aloft.

Gratitude and worship washed me in equally warm measure, beautiful like a custard shake in a bubble bath. Embarrassing, to be rescued like a silly girl. But wonderful. My fingers didn’t make it all the way around Indigo’s wrist, but I held on so hard, my claws dug in practically to the bone. His rainbow metal bangle cut into my palm, and incongruous oddness struck me. Wasn’t that on his other arm before? You notice the stupidest things in a crisis. Instinctively I flew, my overstretched wings aching.

Below, blades scissored. Razor steel zinged. A dark shape whispered wickedly past my wing tip.

I jerked away, singed. The knife thumped hilt-first into the ceiling and bounced uselessly to the floor.
Hah. Too slow, banshee. We win.

Curses fired up at us like poisoned artillery, and we ducked past still-melting chicken wire and the skylight’s jagged edge into warm, bright, welcoming sun.

F
uck.” Joey DiLuca snakes to his feet in fury and swipes his cane up from the carpet, glowing green venom splattering from his claws.

Mina retches on her knees. Broken glass crunches under her palms, her pretty nails torn. Blood streams from her torn eyebrow, her lip, her ripped earlobe. “Sorry. I missed. Let me after them—”

She’s already stumbling to her feet, fetching her fallen knives, dragging back bloody blue hair, heading for the stairs. Joey grabs her elbow, fighting his voice calm even though rage and frustration blacken his heart. “No. They’re gone. You won’t find them. It’s okay. We’ll make another ambush. Peace, Mina.”

She curses, blood and spit flecking. Blood trickles into her eye, from her nose, down the corner of her mouth. Damn magnet-ass fairy ripped her fucking piercings out.

Angry black spines erupt from Joey’s forehead. He lets her go and squelches them back inside with an effort, jamming his hat back on so she won’t see.

There’s one, fallen, a tiny iron ring caked in dust and blood. Joey plucks it from glass shards, and his cold blood pulses warm at the sight, the ragged rosy edges of her skin.

Once he was Dante’s foil, his protector, the one who cleaned up all the blood and bodies and dragged Dante back from the brink of chaos when things got out of hand. Now Dante’s dead because Joey wasn’t there, and he’s got Mina. Pretty Mina, who worships him with those lying ruby eyes.