"Are you gonna stay chill about this, mama?" the leader of the three young men asked as they walked into the living room. "You're not going to try to fuck around with us, are you?"
"No, I certainly don't intend to do that," Elizabet said evenly.
The young man nodded as if satisfied and glanced at his associates. "Holster 'em, homies," he said. "Show some respect for the sister."
Kayla breathed a very small sigh of relief as the young men put the guns away, sliding them under their shirts or behind their waistbands.
"So, mama," the leader said, sitting down on the edge of the couch, one knee propped up under his chin. "We're here with a businesslike proposition." He glanced at Kayla, still standing by the door. "My name is Razz. These two are my lieutenants."
"I can't exactly say it's a pleasure to meet you, Razz," Elizabet said as she sat down in the chair across from him. <T>
She's so calm, Kayla thought. She's got to be as scared as I am, but she's sure not showing it.
"The white chick should sit down, too," Razz said, <W1%-12>"<|><D%0>'Cause she's part of the business deal."
Somehow I don't think I like the sound of that. . . .
He gestured at her, and Kayla sat down gingerly at the far end of the couch, as far from the young men as she could manage.
"It's like this," Razz said. "Here we are, some enterprising men trying to improve the lot of the African-American in America and we hear about this white kid that can do some wild shit, serious juju magic. And I think to myself: Razz, that's someone that we need, someone that can help our cause. So I come here to talk to the sister who's watching over the white chick, figuring she'll do what's right by our people. That she'll give us the white chick, let her work with us and our people."
Kayla glanced nervously at Elizabet, who was being very quiet. She's not really thinking about it, is she? Kayla thought, suddenly very scared. She wouldn't just give me to these guys, would she?
Elizabet glanced at Kayla and then turned back to the young man. "No," she said.
He blinked, as though he wasn't certain that he'd heard her correctly. "What are you saying, sister?"
"I said no. What I'm saying, brother, is that you're not my brother. You're not a hero of the people."
Elizabet matched his glare with one of her own. "My people are making something of themselves. They're doctors, lawyers, preachers, politicians. They're doing something to help the African-American in this country. You, boy, are just a thug."
"Is that what you think, mama?" Razz stood up, shaking his fist at her. "You don't know jack shit about it, lady. Fuck this," he said. "Grab the kid. We're leaving."
"Razz!" It was a shout from outside, "You'd better get out here, man."
Razz strode to the door; he paused, glancing back at Kayla and Elizabet. "Don't let 'em pull any shit," he directed the two lieutenants, who nodded.
Kayla glanced nervously at the semi-automatic pistol that was now back in one of the young men's hands. She edged a little closer to the edge of the couch so she could see through the open doorway what was happening outside.
There were more cars in the driveway and in the street beyond. Kayla instantly recognized the two standing in the forefront of the small group of people: Shari and Nataniel.
Razz walked out to the group of elves, quietly talking with them for a few moments in a voice too quiet for Kayla to hear. He can't see them for what they are, Kayla thought. Nobody but Elizabet and I know what those people are.
Razz said something else, then turned and walked back toward the house. Without a word, he stormed into the house, grabbed Kayla by the arm, and dragged her outside. Kayla had a glimpse of Elizabet starting forward, only to have her way blocked by one of the young gunmen.
"This is what you want, Nate? This little white girl?" he demanded, shoving Kayla in front of the Unseelie.
Kayla felt like a mouse surrounded by several hungry snakes. The Unseelie were gazing at her with expressions that she didn't want to identify, and she saw the mix of hate-fear on the faces of Razz's men.
"That's the girl," Shari said quietly. "You will hand her over to us now, Razz."
"Like hell, mama!" Razz glared at her.
"You little fool," Nataniel said, in a voice like ice. "You don't know what you're dealing with, boy. I would rather see this girl dead, and all of your junior hoodlums with her, than let her remain in your possession." The look in Nataniel's eyes was terrifying, he looked so calm and almost bored with this. He wasn't bluffing, he was absolutely serious. He'd kill all of them with about as much emotion as someone swatting a fly.
Somebody get me out of this, Kayla whispered to herself. Please, somebody, anybody, get me out of this. . . . There isn't anyone who's going to help me now, she realized. Elizabet's back there, being held at gunpoint. There are no cops, no Elizabet, no Ramon, no Billy, nobody.
Just me.
"What are you going to do, Nate?" Razz asked. "You're surrounded by my bros, who'll shoot you before you can blink, man. You've been a good supplier, a good dude to deal with, but you're not going to walk away from here with jack shit, you understand that?
"Do you think that matters to me?" Nate said, glancing down at his fingernails. "That your boys are armed with guns? That's fairly insignificant in the scheme of things, I think."
Razz shook his head in disbelief. "You're insane, man. You're fucking insane. We're leaving here now," he called out to his gang. "With the girl."
"I don't think so," Nataniel said calmly. "You have one last chance to reconsider, Razz."
"Like hell!" Razz glared at him. "Fuck with me and you're dead, Nate."
"I couldn't have said that better myself," Nataniel commented.
"Fucking insane," Razz muttered, painfully grasping Kayla's arm again and pulling her along with him in the direction of one of the cars.
Without warning, the world exploded around them.
Blinding light and raging flames filled the air. Kayla felt Razz let go of her arm and fell to her knees, her eyes burning too much for her to see, gasping for breath. The air was too hot to breathe, and someone else's agony washed her like a wave. She quickly crawled away, feeling the asphalt melting beneath her hands and knees. It seared the skin of her hands, but she felt her magic responding instantly, already working to heal her.
She heard a horrible scream behind her, slowly dying away into silence, and knew that she hadn't been the real target of that powerful magic, only close to it. As her eyes cleared, she glanced back and saw Razz's body, engulfed with purple flames, fall lifelessly to the driveway, already crumbling to gray ashes. The T-Men were staring at it in shock, too stunned to move or react.
"Next?" Nataniel said in a bored voice.
One of the T-Men recovered, bringing up his Uzi to fire. Kayla pressed herself flat against the hot asphalt as the air filled with the sound and smell of gunfire. She saw the T-Men diving for cover behind the different cars, and one business-suited elf shoved back against the car by the force of the bullets, as splatters of blood blossomed from his chest.
Another elf leaped toward the gunman with the Uzi. Between one step and the next, the red-haired elf changed, his business suit melting away into a suit of glittering silver armor. He swung the sword that was suddenly in his hands, cutting through the Uzi and the startled gunman in one stroke. Then he staggered backwards and fell, blood trickling from his mouth and the many gunshot holes in the silver armor.
Kayla felt her stomach turn over and forced herself to look away. Bullets sang overhead as she crawled another few feet closer to the house, hearing shouts and screams from behind her. The front door of the house hung open, an inviting rectangle of light, if only she could reach it. One of Razz's boys was lying motionless on the steps, his hand outstretched as though reaching toward her.
Where's his gun? If I had that, maybe I could bluff my way out of here, do something, anything! I don't see it, it must be somewhere in the bushes, it's too dark to see it.
I've got to get Elizabet and get the hell out of here!
She was at the steps when another sound pierced the noise-filled air: the sound of screaming tires. She glanced back at the driveway, to see Carlos, leaning out of the open passenger window of the Chevy as it shrieked to a stop, firing the pistol in his hand. Two other cars were pulling up behind him, homeboys firing through the windows. Coming up the street behind them, she could see a black-and-white police car, tires squealing as it skidded around the street corner.
Oh my God, I didn't think it was possible for this situation to get any worse, but it just did. . . .
Kayla gathered herself and leaped up from the pavement, diving for the open door into the house. She dropped hard onto the steps as a hail of bullets echoed behind her. Kayla crawled through the doorway into the entryway, then stopped short, staring up into the barrel of the gun above her.
The young man behind the gun was looking down at her with terrified brown eyes. Kayla didn't know what to do. She couldn't move, couldn't do anything, just stare at him and wait for him to kill her.
She knew the instant he made the decision, his finger slowly tightening on the trigger . . .
Elizabet slammed into the boy with a football tackle, knocking him against the wall. The gun skittered away across the floor. Elizabet turned quickly and picked up a brand-new glass dolphin sculpture from the table, bringing it down on the young man's head. It shattered, and he blinked at her once and slumped against the wall.
Damn, there goes another dolphin. . . .
"Quickly, child, we're getting out of here," Elizabet said, taking her by the arm.
The world changed to pure white around them.
The force of the blast lifted Kayla off her feet. She landed hard on the floor, rolling. All she could see was brightness, slowly fading. Then she saw Elizabet near the couch, lying very still. She sat up quickly and looked around the room.
Nataniel stood in the doorway, blood dripping from his silver armor, his hands glittering with magic.
Kayla glanced at the pistol, lying on the floor a few feet away.
"Don't bother," Nataniel said. "You've caused me a lot of trouble, girl. I'll take it out of your skin, once we're away from here." He began to walk into the house and stopped suddenly, as though encountering an invisible wall. With an impatient gesture, he brushed his hand at something invisible in front of him, then walked forward. Shari and another elf that Kayla didn't recognize, an older, silver-haired man, followed him through the doorway. All were wearing bright armor from head to foot, bloody swords in their hands.
Kayla shook her head; her throat was too tight for her to speak.
"Oh, defiance from the little kitten. We'll cure you of that soon enough." Nataniel stepped over the unconscious body of the young man, moving toward her.
"My lord?" Shari asked in a strained voice, and Nataniel turned.<T>
She had her sword raised, stained with bright blood. As Kayla watched in total disbelief, she brought it down in a killing stroke, aiming for Nataniel's face.
He ducked back, so that only the tip of the blade creased the side of his face, cutting across his forehead and left eye. He shrieked something Kayla couldn't understand and brought up his own sword, parrying her next attack. Blood coursed down his face from his ruined eye as he countered another attack.
My God, they're trying to kill each other!
Kayla scrambled backwards as the silver-haired elf joined in the fight, swinging a deadly cut at Nataniel, who barely blocked it with his own sword.
"You too, Perenor?" Nataniel hissed.
Kayla crawled closer to Elizabet, realizing that the elves were totally ignoring her for the moment. She rested her hand on Elizabet's shoulder, letting her vision change and show her whether Elizabet was badly hurt.
She was. Kayla could feel the place in Elizabet's skull where the bone had broken, and the fragments were embedded deep in her brain, cutting through blood vessels. She'll die of this, Kayla realized. Or worse, she won't die, but it'll destroy her mind.
The elves are too busy trying to kill each other; they don't even know I'm still here. I can get out of here, or I can heal Elizabet. . . .
She didn't even have to think about it. Kayla called the magic and let it flow through her. She wrapped the magic around the bone shards, slowly easing them out and back into their proper place, and quickly sealed off the damaged blood vessels.
Distantly, she heard a scream and felt the agony of a sword slicing through flesh and bone, a killing blow. She forced herself to concentrate on Elizabet, as the magic repaired the last of the damage and faded away. She knelt for a moment, resting her face against Elizabet's motionless shoulder. It was too much, everything was too much; the total terror and exhaustion were dragging her down and she couldn't stop shaking. The clashing of swords across the room finally registered with her again, and she looked up, not knowing what she was going to see.
Shari was lying in a pool of her own blood on the floor. Nataniel and the other elf were faced off, standing almost over her body, eyes intent on each other.
"You convinced her to betray me, didn't you, Perenor?" Nataniel asked, gasping for breath. "Shari would never have done this on her own."
Perenor's only answer was another swift block and cut combination, almost too fast for Kayla to follow.
Nataniel's mistake was small, and Kayla nearly didn't see it. His foot slipped slightly in the blood on the floor, just enough to throw him off-balance. The other elf moved instantly, closing in on his blind side and stabbing upward with his sword. Nataniel made an odd choking sound and fell back as the silver-haired elf withdrew his sword from Nataniel's chest. Nataniel staggered backwards, his back to the wall, then slid to the floor, leaving a bloody trail on the wall behind him.
Perenor turned toward Kayla, his sword dripping blood, his eyes bright with insanity. Kayla was held by that gaze, unable to look away. He staggered toward her and nearly fell, clutching at a long gash that cut through his armor along his side. He straightened slowly, his eyes burning, breath hissing through his tightened lips. He brought up the sword with both hands, taking another step forward. . . .
"Father!" It was a blond woman, walking quickly across the blood-slicked floor. The sharp contrast between them, the elegantly dressed woman and the blood-splattered man in armor, was so startling that Kayla could only stare at her.
He looked blankly at her, not seeming to recognize her for a moment.
"Father," she repeated, her hand on his arm. "You're hurt, and the police will be here soon. We have to get out of here." She glanced at Kayla, and Kayla saw something flicker across those calm blue eyes, too fast for Kayla to see what it was. Then she turned back to her father, urging him toward the door. "Quickly, Father, walk more quickly. . . . "
Kayla watched the two leave, suddenly aware of the reek of blood and worse filling the room. She sat there for a moment, just breathing. She heard the sound of a car ignition outside, then the sound of the car pulling away, and realized how quiet it was, so quiet that the loudest sound was her own breathing. Slowly, unsteadily, she got to her feet, walking to the open front door.
Nothing in her life could've prepared her for what she saw. The driveway looked like it had been washed in blood. Elves in armor, T-Men, and Tyrone Street Boys, two uniformed LAPD officers, all lying too still, sprawled on the pavement or against the sides of cars. No one moved, and there was no sound. Except one, the faint voice of someone cursing in Spanish.
Kayla followed that sound. On the other side of a car, she saw Carlos, propped against the tire, his arms wrapped around his middle. He didn't see her at first, lost in his pain as the blood seeped around his fingers and soaked into his jacket. He looked up and saw her. "Bruja!" he whispered. "Bruja, you're here. You can heal me. Do it, do it quickly."
She could feel the magic in her responding to his words and his pain, and moved closer, her hands reaching out to him.
Carlos smiled, leaning back. "Always you do what I say, bruja."
She stopped in mid-step.
His eyes widened with pain and surprise, staring at her. "Why are you hesitating, girl? Heal me!" He coughed, blood spattering across his lips and chin. "Heal me, bruja!"
I can't let him die, I can't . . .
I can't let him own me.
If I heal him, I'll never be free. He'll always want me, he'll always be after me.
But I can't let him die . . .
I can't . . . I can't . . .
Carlos sighed and slumped back against the car. Kayla felt the life fleeing from him, fading away. There was still one last moment, she knew, when she could put her hands against him and hold that life in his body.
She didn't move.
The light left Carlos' body, leaving behind a dark, empty shape, faceless as Kayla's vision suddenly blurred with tears. She sobbed, hot tears running down her face.
Kayla leaned against the doorjamb, holding onto it for support. Everything was too bright and blurry around her, but one thing she saw instantly. Nataniel and Shari's bodies were gone, vanished, just like the other elven bodies had vanished during those long minutes when she'd knelt next to Carlos' body, crying too hard to see anything else. Only the stains of blood on the wall and the floor marked where Nataniel and Shari had been.
She walked unsteadily across the room, hearing the sound of wailing police sirens in the distance. She sat down next to Elizabet and took Elizabet's hand in hers, pressing it against her cheek. It's crazy the world's all pain and bullets and blood too much blood too much . . .
She couldn't stop the tears from falling and didn't want to. She could feel the tears washing away the blood from her face, and that was all right; soon she'd be clean again, no blood, no blood ever again. . . .
* * *
"Oh my God!"
Detective Cable's face was chalk-white. Walker had never seen her that shocked before, not even when they'd walked into that domestic multiple homicide scene. He'd never seen anything like this, either, not since the Nam.
Cable and the other officers were walking across the driveway, checking the bodies. They already knew that Quinn and Allen were dead, two good LAPD officers dead on the pavement near the gangbangers.
He and Houston walked quickly to the front door of the house. It was quiet inside, but he gestured for Houston to draw her piece and did the same himself. They moved into the house, scanning quickly for any armed opponents.
There was only one live person, and that was a girl sitting, rocking on the floor, blood and tears streaking her face. She stared up at him like a lost soul.
Walker was a father of two grown boys, and his instincts were good. He holstered his gun and knelt beside her, holding her close and letting her tears soak through his uniform, as the other officers walked quietly through the blood-stained room around them.