"I think that was a rotten trick, Elizabet," Kayla said, helping Elizabet carry the dishes from the breakfast table to the kitchen sink.
"Learning isn't supposed to be easy, child," Elizabet said as she set the dishes down into the soapy water.
"Yeah, but I didn't think it would be this hard," Kayla said. "I mean, you never—"
Across the room, the phone rang. Elizabet grabbed a dishtowel to dry her hands and then hurried over to answer it. Kayla rolled up her sleeves and began scrubbing the dishes. She listened to one half of the conversation. "Good morning, Nichelle . . . I didn't think there would be any news . . . Well, thanks for calling. I'll see you later tonight at the office."
Elizabet's forehead was slightly furrowed with a frown as she walked back to Kayla.
"What was that all about?" Kayla asked.
Elizabet began drying the dishes Kayla had washed. "That was Detective Cable. She wanted to tell me there had been no update on your case. You're still officially kidnaped as far as the LAPD is concerned."
"You didn't tell her that I'm here?"
Elizabet shook her head. "I haven't told anyone anything. I'm still not entirely certain what to do in this situation. I really should take you downtown and have you tell everything to the police. You're a witness to multiple crimes, including homicide."
"No!" Kayla shook her head. "Don't you understand if I do that, it'll never be over? They'll always be after me."
"Not if they're in prison, they won't be," Elizabet said grimly.
"You can't guarantee that! I just . . . I just want to live. I want them to leave me alone." Kayla thought about it for a moment, wondering whether she should ask the question that had been bothering her all morning. What the hell, she thought, and plunged forward. "Elizabet, if you were serious about maybe, like, adopting me, which I think would be really great, I thought maybe we would want to leave Los Angeles. I mean, I've got this whole crowd of people that may be looking for me, and Carlos knows where you live. Sooner or later, they may come looking. So, I thought, hey, maybe we should just go somewhere else. Like New York, maybe?" Or Alaska. South America. Burma?
"Is that what you want to do?" Elizabet gave her a long look. "Run away? Again?"
New Zealand? Ireland? Antarctica?
"Well . . . yes! I mean, I don't want to be here when the trouble arrives. What if those killer elves start looking for me again? Or Carlos?" Or Ramon . . .
Kayla thought about Ramon, his laughing dark eyes. Guess I'll never see that guy again, she thought. If I do, his big brother will be right behind him. I know he's okay; I healed the guy, I shouldn't worry about him. But I do. . . .
"No," Elizabet said firmly. "We're not going to run away. These are problems, child, that you'll have to learn how to face, because if you don't, they'll just find you again and again. You'll have to go to the police and tell them everything . . . well, almost everything," she amended. "We'll deal with this trouble together. I want you to do this because you know it's right, not because I'm compelling you to do it. But you must know that you have to do it, you have to go to the police and help them put these people behind bars. You have to be willing to confront them."
Kind of a scary prospect, that, Kayla thought, remembering about Carlos, the T-Men, and the Unseelie Court. It's a whole lot of trouble. More than I want to deal with, that's for sure. How did I get myself into this kind of trouble?
"I'll have to go into work in a few hours," Elizabet said, stacking the clean dishes in the cupboard. "I'll stop by the county office and file papers to see about formally making this your foster home. You, on the other hand . . ." And she gave Kayla a stern look. "You will stay here, try to keep out of trouble, and do some schoolwork. I have a number of textbooks in my library that you can start with. I imagine you've missed quite a bit of school over the past few months."
"Oh, just a few classes," Kayla admitted. Like most of this school year. . . .
"And I'll call downtown," Elizabet continued. "We'll get a regular patrol to stop through here on their circuit, plus whatever else they think is appropriate to a key witness. You'll have to testify, Kayla. It'll probably take a couple of days for them to get the paperwork started on this, but you will have to testify against the gang. I don't know whether the L.A.P.D. can do anything against elves and that ogress . . ."
They'd better take in a platoon of Marines with them, if they try!
" . . . but we can certainly do something about the gangbangers," Elizabet continued. "If we see any sign of the gang or . . . anything else, the police will probably want to take you into protective custody. So don't be alarmed if a policeman stops by to see how you're doing during the day, while you're studying. And you'd better start cracking the books. You'll have some serious catching up to do if you want to graduate high school with a high enough grade point average to go to college."
"College?" Kayla glanced at her. "I can't go to college!"
"Of course you can," Elizabet said, smiling. "I'll help you with the tuition. But you'll need to get your grades into shape or you won't be admitted. It'll take a lot of hard work, but I think you can do it."
"College?" Kayla repeated, her eyes wide. College . . . I never thought I'd be able to do that. I wonder what I'd study? I'd like to learn more about how this magic thing works, but somehow I don't think they'll have classes in Magic 101 at UCLA.
Elizabet laughed, reaching out to ruffle Kayla's hair. "Of course, imp. College. Who did this to your hair? It looks like it was hacked off with a knife."
"I like it this way," Kayla said. "Wow . . . college. I never thought I'd really be able to do it."
"We'll get you there," Elizabet said. "Just you wait and see. Well, we do have a few hours before I need to head into the city. Shall we go visit Billy?"
"You bet," Kayla said immediately. "And I'd like to go looking for Liane, too. I know that no one's seen her around, but I'd like to try to find her. I don't know where she'd be exactly, but we could go back to Suite 230. Maybe she went back there."
"The police have been checking there once a day or so," Elizabet said. "There hasn't been any sign of your friend, but we can go look if you like."
"Yeah, I'd like that."
Walking into the hospital was easier this time. It was the same, the overwhelming pressure of pain and emotions pouring down on her, but she was able to push it back, to hold it away from her almost without thinking about it. She moved it away from her, closing it off to where it was only a quiet, distant clamor rather than an overwhelming wave. She caught a glimpse of Elizabet's smile as they walked through the hospital lobby.
Maybe I am learning. Maybe I'm getting better at this.
"They've moved him to the third floor," Elizabet said as they walked to the elevators. "He's doing fine, last I saw him."
"You've been here?" Kayla asked, surprised.
Elizabet nodded. "I asked that they assign him as one of my cases. I also asked that they keep him here for a little while longer even though he could have been discharged from the hospital a couple days ago. Downtown, they're still trying to figure out what to do with this young man, but Billy has his own ideas. I'm sure he'll tell you."
Kayla only followed Elizabet from the elevator down the hall to room 341. Through the closed door, she could hear an exuberant yell: "Yeah, go Niners!" She grinned, recognizing Billy's voice.
"Come on, Billy!" someone else shouted. "They're history, they're toast, they're outta here!"
Elizabet opened the door, leaning inside. "Is there room for two more Niners fans in here?" she asked.
"Elizabet! Come on in!"
Kayla walked in after Elizabet, a little nervously. Billy, wearing a San Francisco Forty-Niners shirt over his hospital gown, was sitting up in bed. Another boy, very thin and pale and wearing a baseball cap, was in the next bed. Both of them were watching the game on the television set high on the wall across from them.
Billy winced as one of the Niners fumbled a catch and glanced at Kayla and Elizabet. His eyes widened, and he let out a yell that filled the room. "KAYLA!"
"Hiya, Billy," she said. "How's tricks?"
"You're looking all right," he said, grinning. "The 'do is awesome. Did you do your hair with a knife? Can I get your leather jacket if you get hit by a truck?"
"In your dreams, dude," she said, grinning back at him.
"Shhh, come on, guys, put a cork in it, the Niners are trying for a touchdown," the other boy said, lying back so that he was only half-visible behind the row of IVs and medical equipment.
"Chill out, Rick!" Billy shook his head. "He's stressed out 'cause tonight's dessert is riding on this." He added more quietly, "An' the chemo's got him down today." Billy glanced over at Elizabet, a little hesitantly, Kayla thought. "So, Elizabet . . . any news?" Using both hands, he shifted his leg, encased in a heavy white cast, so he could sit up straighter. "You got any news for me?"
Elizabet sat down on the edge of his bed. "Oh, nothing much. Just a new home for you. It's up in San Francisco and your foster parent is an engineer, just like you asked for."
"Really?" Billy's eyes were wide. "You did it, Elizabet! I knew you could do it!"
Kayla glanced between Billy and Elizabet, not understanding. "An engineer?" she asked.
Elizabet nodded. "We've been trying to do that, match kids with parents who are in the profession the kid would like to pursue. Billy told me that he wants to study civil engineering; if he can get into college, that is," she added, giving him a stern look. "After talking with your teachers at your last high school, that may be tougher than you told me. But I think you'll like this lady, Billy. I talked with her on the phone. She's been working on old buildings, making them more earthquake-proof."
"Cool!" Billy said. "That's great. We'll have something to talk about over dinner."
"I didn't know you wanted to be an engineer," Kayla said. When did he decide he wanted this? It couldn't have been when we were at the foster home; he never talked about it, never said anything about it. . . .
"Well, it didn't look too likely when all I was doing was ditching class and trying to run away from lousy foster homes. But talking with Elizabet made me think about what I'd like to do with my life. So I'll give it a try. If it doesn't work out, maybe I can go work for the CIA or something. I've got all that experience in breaking and entering, I bet they'd hire me in a minute!"
"Don't you even think it, scamp!" Elizabet said sternly and Billy laughed.
I never would've guessed this about Billy, Kayla thought. I never thought that maybe he had dreams, dreams of more than just getting through a few days without getting arrested, or how to break into an apartment quicker and faster the next time. I never thought he might want to be an engineer. He's so different. I mean, it's only been a week, and he's changed so much. Or maybe he's not so different, maybe he's been this way all the time, and I just didn't know it.
"Have you guys heard anything about Liane?" Billy asked, his face suddenly very serious.
Elizabet shook her head. "Nothing new."
"We're going to go look for her," Kayla said. "Right after we leave here, we're going into Hollywood."
"Well, then get your asses out of here," Billy said with a smile. "And I'll go back to watching the football game. Come back and visit me after you've found her." He looked down, away from them. "I've been worried 'bout her. Kayla, I figured that you'd be able to take care of yourself, even if you never did before. . . ."
"Hey, thanks a lot, dude!" Kayla said, glaring at him and then grinning in pretend anger.
"No, I'm serious! I always took care of stuff for all of us, after we left the foster home, but it wasn't because I was the only one who could do it. You could; you always could. You just didn't . . . just didn't believe enough in yourself. But Liane's different. I hope she's okay."
"We'll find out," Elizabet said reassuringly. "My guess is that she's still somewhere in the Hollywood area, that she wouldn't have gone far, which means . . ."
Elizabet's voice faded, and Kayla glanced over at Billy's roommate, now asleep. His face was very pale and drawn, white even against his pillow, only a few stringy wisps of hair visible beneath the baseball cap. Something's very wrong there, she thought, something's very . . .
Without warning, the room disappeared around her. It was as if she was falling into a whirlwind of pain and chaos, sliding between the layers of skin and muscle, until she could see the cells of his body. The cells that were fighting a hopeless battle against each other, killing him piece by piece. It was too overwhelming and confusing; she didn't know how she'd start to heal this. It's not just a single cut or a wound, she thought, it's all the way through his entire body, it's everywhere. . . .
She felt Elizabet's hand on her shoulder, pulling her back into herself. "Control, Kayla," Elizabet murmured. "Disengage from it. Control it."
Kayla blinked and shook her head, trying to clear the image of the millions of cells fighting against each other from her vision. Then she was standing in the hospital room again, Elizabet's hand on her shoulder keeping her from falling.
She glanced at Billy; he was staring at her.
"Your eyes!" he whispered. "Your eyes were filled with blue fire. It's true. I thought I dreamed it, but it really happened. That scar that the doctors found, the one they said must've happened a few months back. Except it didn't; I'd never had it before. It was you. What is it, Kayla?"
"We'd better go," Elizabet said quietly, urging Kayla toward the door.
"Kayla?" Billy called. "Please, I need to know!"
Still dizzy from the magic, Kayla looked back at him. "I don't know, Billy," she said. "I don't know what it is. But I'm going to try to figure it out."
"And I'm going to help her," Elizabet said.
"Yeah, you do that, Elizabet," Billy said, settling back against his pillows. "Elizabet can help you figure things out, Kayla. She's good at that."
Kayla glanced back at her friend. It's not the same, she thought. It's never going to be the same. We're different people now. "Take care of yourself, Billy," she said.
"You, too, Kayla," he said, and smiled. "Try to stay out of trouble, hey?"
No bets on that, she thought, walking out into the corridor.
In the hallway outside his room Kayla turned to Elizabet. "Do you know what's wrong with Rick?" she asked. "All that craziness, everything fighting itself<W1%-75><|><D%0>?"
"Leukemia," Elizabet said. "That's what Rick has." She was silent for a moment as they walked past the nurses' station. "Everyone has limits, child," she said at last. "You'll have to learn what yours are."
"Can you do it?" Kayla asked. "Can you cure cancer?"
Elizabet shook her head. "No. You forget, child, my talents are much more limited than yours. I can't cure a cold, not the way that you can. Some small things, yes, but I'm not in your league. Maybe you can learn how to cure cancer eventually."
Kayla thought about it as they walked out to the car. That would be great, if I could. I mean, what am I supposed to do with this magic thing, anyhow? It's like . . . there has to be a meaning to it, some reason for it. Elizabet's the only other person I know who has this magic talent that I have, not counting the killer elves, or whatever they are.
If I go to college, and med school after that, then maybe I'll learn just what I can do with this. If I'm a doctor, then I can help people and they won't know that it's magic; they'll think it's medicine. Maybe I can learn how to cure cancer.
She was quiet for most of the drive into Hollywood, thinking about that.
"Want to talk about it?" Elizabet asked, as they drove through the slow-moving traffic onto Hollywood Boulevard.
"It's just . . ." Kayla began, then faltered. "Well, I keep thinking there has to be a reason for this, this magic stuff. I mean, why else would I have it?"
Elizabet smiled. "Thinking that you were put on God's Earth for a reason, child, that's ego. What you have is a gift, and you have to figure out how best to use it." She braked as the street light changed to red and glanced at Kayla. "Where did you want to start looking for your friend?" she asked.
Kayla looked at the street, the cars moving slowly through the intersection ahead of them. It was only late afternoon, but already the night people were starting to appear: men in dirty clothes slouching against the storefronts, women walking by in high heels and tight skirts. Two motorcycle cops were parked near the intersection, watching the traffic go by.
"Oh, I don't know," Kayla said. "I guess we should stop back—" She stopped, realizing that she was about to use the word "home" for Suite 230. And that that word didn't fit it anymore. "I guess we should look at the office building first," she finished awkwardly.
"All right," Elizabet said. She waited for the signal to change and parked in the lot at the corner of Hollywood and Cherokee.
Kayla was very quiet as they walked down the street. She led Elizabet down the narrow alley between two tall buildings and up to the broken window at the back of the office building. "Watch out, there's some glass on the floor," she said, climbing through.
Elizabet nodded, clambering in after her. Kayla stepped around the pile of dirty blankets and old newspapers, where someone else had obviously set up their digs, and to the stairway down the hall. A few minutes later, they were on the second floor, and Kayla pushed the door of Suite 230 open with her foot, glancing around inside.
Suite 230 looked just like it had the night when all of this started. The blankets were still piled in the corner, and the three half-eaten cans of spaghetti, the contents looking very green and moldy, were still on the sink. "I don't think Liane has been back here," Kayla said, looking around. She looked into the other room and saw her old backpack on the floor, open and obviously searched, then abandoned. "I don't think she's been in here."
Elizabet shook her head. "The police were here, but I know they were careful to leave everything the way it was."
Kayla pulled her jacket a little more tightly around her, not from physical cold but something else. This place looked so empty, depressing. It was hard to believe that she'd lived here. When Billy and Liane had been with her, somehow the place hadn't looked so bad. It'd been more of an adventure than a dump. "I'm glad I don't have to live here anymore," she said.
"Me too, child," Elizabet said, smiling.
Kayla bent to pick up her backpack. She unzipped the main pocket, looking inside. There wasn't much there: half a candy bar, some change, and a bent photograph. She zipped it up again quickly, not wanting to look at the photo of her and her mom and dad in the backyard of their house, at her last birthday party. I shouldn't have kept that; I should have left that at the house, she thought. I should have—
"Is something wrong, Kayla?" Elizabet asked.
Kayla shook her head quickly, rubbing at her eyes. "No, I'm fine," she lied. She slung the backpack over her shoulder. "I guess we should ask around out on the street, see if anyone has seen Liane. Folks would remember that I'm a friend of hers, maybe they'd tell me." Kayla took one last look around Suite 230, then walked to the door.
Out on the street, she saw a few people she recognized, but not many. There was the old bearded man who sat on the sidewalk not far from the McDonald's, panhandling for change. The shopkeepers were still the same after only a couple weeks, but she'd never talked to any of them before, figuring that they'd only call the cops on her, so they probably wouldn't be much help.
She stood on the street corner, looking around, not certain where to go next. There was the elderly man who sold hot dogs from a wheeled cart. He'd smiled at her before and given them a couple extra hot dogs for free when they'd bought from him. Maybe he'd know something about Liane.
"Elizabet, I'm going to talk to that guy," she said.
"Sounds like a good idea to me," Elizabet said. "I'll go get us some Cokes from the McDonald's."
"Great," Kayla said. She waited for the light to change, then walked across the street to where the old man was slathering onions on a hot dog for one of his customers.
"Excuse me, sir," she began, then she saw Liane walk out from a bar entrance three doors down the street.
Liane!
She looked totally different. The old sweatshirt and jeans were gone—she was wearing a tight white blouse and a black leather miniskirt, with four-inch spike heels. Kayla stared at her, too surprised to say anything. She walked to the edge of the curb, obviously waiting for someone. She looked around the busy street, then glanced in Kayla's direction.
Her eyes met Kayla's; she blinked, staring. "Kayla?" she called, her voice mirroring her surprise. She took a few quick steps in Kayla's direction, then stopped.
"Liane?" Kayla walked hesitantly toward her. Liane hugged her, smiling. She's okay, thank God she's okay. . . .
Kayla sniffled and rubbed at her eyes as she stepped back, looking at her friend. "Oh, hell, I smeared your makeup! I'm sorry, I didn't—"
"Who cares? I'll fix it! But what did you do your hair?" Liane asked. "It's wild!"
"What did you do to the rest of you?" Kayla asked. "The way you're dressed, you look like—"
A car pulled up on the curb with a squeal of tires—a blue Chevy. Kayla glanced at it and froze. In the driver's seat was Nick, looking just like he had the night all of this started, wearing a white sportscoat with his hair all slicked back.
For a half second Kayla wanted to run away, but she stopped herself. She didn't have to run from Nick, not now.
"Who's that you're talkin' with, Liane?" Nick got out of the car, walking over to them. "Liane, what are you doing with this punkette?"
Before, just that look would have sent Kayla running, especially without Billy around to keep her from being scared. But now, things are different. Kayla glared back at him. "I'm talking to my friend, bozo. What's it to you?"
"Nick." Liane put her hand on his arm. "Listen, I'll just be a few minutes. Can I talk to her?"
She's asking permission from him. This isn't right, this really isn't right. "Liane—"
"Two minutes. You got an appointment now, remember? Can't keep people waiting."
Kayla pulled Liane a few feet away, closer to a wall. "Liane, what in the hell are you doing? Nick? You're hanging out with Nick? With that total sleazeball?"
"It's not like that," Liane said, glancing at where Nick was waiting, leaning against the door of the Chevy. "Really. Nick is a cool guy once you get to know him, and he gives me lots of clothes to wear, takes me out to restaurants, buys me jewelry, and we get high all the time. It's really a lot of fun."
"Jesus, Liane, you can't mean that!"
"Kayla, you know I hated living up in Suite 230. It was dirty all the time and there was never all that much food to eat. This is so much better. I'm happy now. I'm really happy now."
"Come on, Liane, time to go," Nick said, straightening up and walking toward them.
"Liane, don't you want to . . . I mean, things are working out okay by me. You don't have to be here—"
Nick reached out suddenly and grabbed Kayla by her jacket, shoving her against the wall. "Shut your mouth, chickie. Liane knows what she's doing. She knows what's good for her."
Kayla twisted, trying to get free. Behind Nick, she could see that Liane's face was pale, her eyes wide.
I could toast you, slimeball, she thought. I could call up the magic and fry your ass.
In her mind's eye, she saw the black boy lying on the bloody apartment floor, twisting in pain.
No. Not that.
"Nick, please don't—" Liane pleaded.
Nick glanced at her, then let go of Kayla abruptly. "Sure, baby, anything you say," he said. <T>"Take a hike, chickie, don't bother us an more."
"Kayla, is there a problem?" It was Elizabet, standing a few feet away from them, holding two cups of soda. She surveyed the scene before her calmly, glaring at Nick.
"It's really okay," Liane said. "Kayla, this is what I want. I don't need your help."
"Let's go, Liane," Nick said, taking her by the arm and walking with her to his car. He opened the car door for her and gave Kayla a last furious glance. The Chevy screamed away into traffic a few seconds later.
Elizabet stood quietly next to Kayla. "I'll call Nichelle downtown," she said. "I'm sure they can find Nick again, and Liane."
"She didn't want me to help her," Kayla said. "She didn't want any help."
"Come on, child, let's go home," Elizabet said gently.
Nataniel leaned back in his chair, gazing out at the lights of Las Vegas. It never ceased to amaze him the way the humans squandered so much electricity on this useless display of lights. It certainly was eye-catching, though, and garish, but still beautiful in its own way.
Such an incredible waste of energy, he thought, like so much about the humans, especially those with the gift of magic. They live their short, useless little lives, never dreaming what they could truly accomplish. Now that would be an accomplishment worthy of an Unseelie prince . . . to gather the power of all of those untapped resources, guiding it where he will.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "Come in," he said sharply.
Shari entered the room. She bowed, fractionally less than the last time she had approached him, he noted with a hidden smile. Shari, in her own way, was becoming dangerous, he had decided, more questioning, edging toward disobedience. She spoke more often now of when they would return to the Unseelie Court, and he knew that she hated life among the humans, even more than most of his followers.
Still, she been the first one to follow him of her own free will when he had been cast out of the Unseelie Court. That was worth something, and he would tolerate a small amount of insolence in the remembrance of it.
"What is it?" he asked.
"The human girl," Shari said, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. "The young mage. She's back in Los Angeles and growing in power even as we speak."
"Oh, really?" Nataniel asked, smiling. He wondered briefly how the human child had survived the Unseelie Court, then shrugged. She was alive, and that was all that mattered, that she was powerful enough to return to the human lands of her own will.
"Razz and his boys, they found her in Los Angeles. She nearly killed one of them with her magic, but apparently healed him afterwards. Several others of their gang disappeared, so they're still searching the area.
"I find it a little hard to believe," Shari continued, a touch of surprise tinged with something else—admiration?—in her voice. "She nearly killed someone and then healed him. Healing an enemy. Can you imagine that?"
"She's human, and a healer." Nataniel shrugged. "She probably can't bear the pain of others. We'll change that once we have her here again." His voice tightened. "Tell the others to prepare for war. Razz has been useful to us, but we can't let him win this prize. We go to Los Angeles."