The Naughty List (13 page)

“If you’re both Integrals, how come David is so nice and you’re such a dick?” She whammed him in the head with the price scanner gun.

Anthony fell back and Rosalie tore into Christmas Land. An angry roar bellowed behind as she reached Santa’s throne. Planting her feet on either side, she grasped the seat cushion and yanked hard. Sparks shot out knocking her back, followed by a faint whiff of sulfur. Rosalie caught a glimpse of a rectangular object stuffed into a hidden compartment before she was jerked off her feet. She slammed into the floor. Invisib [looaught le hands encircled her throat. They squeezed, cutting off the air. The lights of Christmas Land danced as her vision blurred.

Rosalie dropped her hands. Supernatural being or not, he was so going to regret the next few seconds.
She grabbed his groin and twisted as hard as she could. With a howl, the pressure on her neck disappeared.

“You’re dead,” he roared out. “You’re both dead—”

Rosalie kicked savagely in the general direction of the voice. Her foot came into contact twice with something large and heavy and then hit nothing but air. There came a grunt followed by a crash as several elaborately decorated Christmas trees toppled to the ground. Gasping for air, Rosalie stumbled to the throne. In a hidden crevice nestled a large leather bound volume with a solid gold clasp. Rosalie snatched up The Book, surprised at the weight. She staggered off the platform.

All this time Stephanie hadn’t moved. She stared at the spot where the Christmas trees fell over. One of them shivered and moved as if something stirred underneath. “He’s getting up,” she moaned in terror.

“Run!” yelled Rosalie.

A good hard shove jumpstarted the paralyzed woman’s feet. Stephanie made a beeline for Central Receiving. Burdened by the weight of The Book, Rosalie staggered behind, legs pumping hard. Amazing how fast that woman goes in stilettos with an enraged demon on her ass, she thought. They tore through the delivery area to the back exit. Crashing noises followed a furious bellow. Anthony had escaped from under the trees.

“H-he’s coming.” Stephanie punched in a security code, but her hands shook so badly she keyed in the wrong number. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Again,” Rosalie wheezed out, gasping for breath.

With a click the lock released and they bolted into the parking lot. Stephanie’s car was right by the door.

“Anthony has the keys—”

Rosalie’s eyes darted to Billy’s car in the far corner. “Over there!” They dashed across the asphalt, every step with the heavy book burning a painful stitch in her side. As they reached the car, the back door of Penrose’s mysteriously opened.

“Hurry,” screamed Stephanie, “he’s outside.” Rosalie tossed The Book on the floor and gunned the engine. At the same time from across the lot Stephanie’s car roared to life.

“He’s coming!” she wailed. “He’ll kill us both.”

Rosalie’s foot mashed down on the accelerator. Used to the moderate purr of her economically priced hatchback, she was thrown back into her seat as the engine screamed like a tiger let loose from its cage. “What the hell is under this hood?” she cried out as
the sports car peeled away leaving two long tire skids behind. They roared onto the main road, headlights closing in behind them.

“He’s right behind us,” Stephanie screeched.

“Oh my God, will you shut the hell up,” Rosalie barked. “I see him.”

Anthony had only been in town a short while and couldn’t possibly know the city as well as Rosalie. If she could stay ahead of him for a few precious seconds, they had a chance. She cut through the rear of a shopping mall. The headlights followed growing closer and closer in the rear view mirror. Rosalie slammed on the breaks and made a sharp turn into a vacant lot and then floored it and flew out the other side, holding her breath as the car’s bottom scraped the curb. She took the next hard right and then barreled down an alley and onto a side street.

The headlights disappeared. Two more sharp turns and then Rosalie pulled behind a convenience store near the entrance to the freeway. She cut the engine and turned off the lights. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so hard the knuckles were white.

Stephanie swallowed hard. “D-Did we lose him?”

“For now.” Her heart hammered wildly. “We’ll sit here for a few minutes to make sure.” Rosalie shot a furious look at the pale-faced woman. “How the hell did you get involved in all this?”

“I-I knew Anthony in college. He was fun…always had lots of money…threw great parties. A few weeks ago he came to my door with a box of candy and that thing.” She glared at The Book on the floor. “H-He needed a place to stay, and then he showed me what it can do.”

Rosalie propped The Book against the steering wheel. Unfastening the clasp, she rifled through the first few pages. They were blank. “There’s nothing here,” she gaped in surprise.

Stephanie shifted anxiously in her seat and scooted as far away from The Book as possible. “Keep looking.”

Rosalie stared at the page. Gradually, blankness gave way to rapidly flickering images galloping past her eyes at a frantic pace. Reading was like trying to interpret a document on a computer screen while scrolling through at top speed. “Nothing makes sense.”

“You have to use the index.”

“Index?”

She hunched forlornly in her seat. “Say a name.”

“Stephanie Crowder.”

Stephanie flinched as The Book jerked in Rosalie’s hands. Pages flipped by at dizzying speed before The Book fell open on another blank page. No—not blank. Blood red letters emerged one at a time at the top of the cream-colored vellum. N-a-u-g-h-t-y L-i-s-t. The words glowed slightly as if lit from within.

A deep resonant voice filled the car’s interior. “Using names and personal data supplied from The Book, Stephanie Crowder blackmailed Randall Penrose to secure the promotion as store manager. Stephanie Crowder’s additional offences include pilfering funds from the cash office, lying to Marissa Garrett—”

“What lie?” Rosalie demanded. Stephanie stared guiltily out the window as words on the page shifted, blurred and an additional paragraph appeared. The voice continued. “Stephanie Crowder informed Marissa Garrett that Penrose’s board of directors rejected her new inventory tracking system. Stephanie never produced the system for the board’s review, since installation would prove she stole from Penrose’s. To escape further detection, Stephanie scheduled Marissa Garrett for termination.”

Rosalie’s blood pressure shot up like a geyser at Yellowstone. She slammed The Book shut. “Get out of the car.”

Stephanie froze.

“Now,” Rosalie growled, “or I will drag you out by your over-bleached hair.”

Stephanie scurried out the door. “W-What do I do now?” she blubbered.

Rosalie started the engine. “I couldn’t possibly care less, but don’t ever go back to Penrose’s.” She pulled out of the parking lot and one block later steered the car down the on-ramp of the expressway. The Book was safe again. Now all she had to do was find one E.L.F hidden in a supernatural prison in the middle of a city of eight million people.

“Easy peasy, lemon squeezy,” she muttered to herself, merging into the traffic flow headed north. “New York City, here I come.”

Chapter Eight

David shifted his weight on the cot and grunted. The damn manacles burned like fire.

“You okay?” Brian’s concerned voice drifted over from the cell next door.

“I’m fine, Dad.” Guilt filled David. He was younger and stronger and had a hard time with the manacles. The older Kloss had battled the pain for weeks. “Dad, I—”

“If you apologize one more time,” he said with mock seriousness, “I’ll ground you.”

David jumped off the cot and ambled over to the bars. Despite his discomfort, he chuckled. “Still using that? You know you can’t ground a teleporter. That threat didn’t work even when I was a kid. Besides, the manacles beat you to it. How has Mom put up with you all these years?”

“I often ask myself the same question. Life with an Integral certainly isn’t easy.” He paused. “Speaking of human women and why they put up with us, tell me more about Rosalie.”

“What can I say, other than I’ll never see her again?” Bitter depression enveloped him. He only knew the girl a few hours, why did the knowledge she’d disappeared from his life hurt more than the manacles?

“Never is a very long time. Come on. Tell me. What is she like?”

An image of her standing defiant in her apartment popped unbidden into his mind. His lips twisted in an unconscious grin. “Petite brunette with a fondness for pepper spray and Chinese food.”

“I like her already. Your mom and I will have her over for dinner as soon as we get out of here.”

“You have plans to leave?”

“I have optimism.”

“You’re something, you know that, Dad. Why do I feel better after we talk?”

“Hey, I’m the Santa. It’s my thing.”

The returning sensation exploded through David like a lightning strike. He slammed back against the wall gasping for breath.

“David,” called Brian, “What happened?”

He drew in a deep lungful of air. “I sense The Book again. Rosalie must have found it. Dad, whoever stole The Book will be after her.” He glared at his bound hands in frustration. “I have to get to Rosalie and The Book before they do.”

Brian grasped the bars. “Desperate times called for desperate acts, son. I have an idea to open the cell door. The keys to the manacles are in the guardhouse.”

“How will you get us out?”

“Not us—you.” Brian flexed his shackled wrists. “Carlos won’t be happy.”

An awful thought occurred to David. “Dad, if you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do, then forget it. You could be killed.”

“I’ll hold on to Carlos long enough for the manacles to render him unconscious. Once he’s down, grab the keys and get the hell out. You’ll need help to escape headquarters. Contact Sadhri.”

“We both could—”

“If this works I won’t be in any position to move for a while and only slow you down.”

David swallowed hard. He knew his father spoke the truth. “All right. Mom will have your head for this lousy plan.”

Brian grinned. “She’ll forgive me. When Carlos does the bed check, we’ll make our move.”

****

Liang Sung flicked on the light in the hellhounds’ quarters, fam cquap>

The three hellhounds on the duty roster instantly rolled out of bed. “What does his royal highness need now?” grumbled Billy as he shrugged into a shirt.

“Beats the hell out of me. All I know is we have an out of town snatch-and-grab.”

“Where are we headed?”

“Seaglades, Florida.”

Billy froze. “Florida?”

“What’s the matter, Liang?” scoffed Ramesh Singh. “Someone lose their car keys in the sand after one too many margaritas at the beach?”

“Ours is not to reason why, children,” the pack master squawked. “Pack your gear. You have ten minutes to get your butts to the helipad on the roof. The chopper will take us to the airport. The jet is prepped and waiting on the runway.”

“Nice,” piped up Sonia Rostov, the fourth member of the pack. “I like traveling in the private jet. No TSA to deal with. The last time I went through security at Kennedy, they confiscated my damn cupcake. Do you believe it, Billy…a freaking cupcake?” She slung her pack over her shoulder. “What the hell is wrong with those people?”

Billy grunted a noncommittal reply all the while thinking this was bad. This was very bad. Why send a hunting pack to Rosalie’s location? It couldn’t be a coincidence.

The Baal waited on the roof. “Once you arrive, Anthony Pearce will meet you at the airport with the target scent.”

“The quarry?” asked Liang.

“Female…human…should be no problem. I have reason to believe the girl is headed to New York. Were the other hellhounds put on alert in case the quarry slips into the city?”

Liang bristled. “No alert is necessary, sir. Neither human nor Integral will elude my hunting pack.”

“Do it.”

She nodded stiffly. “As you command.”

“Locate only,” Dominic instructed. “Once the target is brought to bay, Pearce will question her.”

The hellhounds exchanged puzzled glances. Billy’s suspicions skyrocketed. “Sir? You don’t wish us to bring her to New York?”

“My orders are quite clear, hellhound.”

Liang ordered the pack into the chopper. “The hunt is on, Baal.”

After take-off, Billy hunkered down in a back seat. He whipped out his phone, called Sadhri and quickly filled her in.

“Anthony Pearce, huh?” she sniped. “Something he did got the Baal’s panties in a twist. I’ll see what I can find out. What about the girl? Do you know who she is?”

“I have a pretty good idea. If I’m right, she’s in big trouble.”

****

Rosalie fumbled in her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. Marissa picked up immediately. “Are you still in the store? Did you find the book? Do you have proof Stephanie blackmailed Randall?”

“I’m in a car.” Rosalie glanced at the leather-bound volume in the passenger seat. “I have The Book and, yes, it proves everything. I also discovered Stephanie terminated you because the new tracking system would confirm she stole from the store.”

The very lady-like Marissa uttered a very unlady-like curse. “She won’t get away with this. I’ll call the police—”

“Trust me. The polic cme.ke curse.e can’t use this kind of evidence. Anyway, Stephanie’s gone, so is Anthony. He was the mastermind, but don’t worry. Neither one will come back. Also, I left a mess in Christmas Land when Anthony tried to kill me. Sorry about that.”

“Kill you?” she gasped. “Rosalie, you’re not making any sense.”

“I can’t explain, Marissa. I only wanted to let you know I’m okay and on my way to New York to return The Book to David. Everything will be all right, then.”

“Rosalie!” Her friend’s voice exploded through the phone. “You will tell me what’s going on right now. You promised.”

Oh, what the hell.
“The Book is the Naughty and Nice List. David is an E.L.F and Santa’s son and Anthony is a demon, but Stephanie is just a bitch. I hope to see you in a few days. Um, I’m not crazy.” Rosalie hung up. Well, there goes the friendship. If Marissa ever spoke to her again, it would only be to recommend therapy
.