Kayla looked around quickly for somewhere to run, but the only obvious direction was back up the stairs, which wouldn't get her very far.
:Don't run, girl. I won't hurt you.: The voice spoke quietly in her mind. :Just stand still, be calm. Let me look at you.: The woman with the pointed ears walked closer to her, looking at her curiously.
"You're younger than I would've expected," the woman said aloud. "How old are you, girl . . . seventeen? Eighteen?"
"Fifteen," Kayla tried to say, but her voice wasn't working quite right. For the first time in her life, she understood what the expression about someone's "throat being tight with fear" really meant—she couldn't quite manage to say the word out loud.
"Fifteen," the woman repeated thoughtfully, as though Kayla had spoken. "That's very young, for one of your kind. I begin to see Nataniel's reasoning at last." She smiled. "My name is Shari, girl. I've traveled a long way to meet you."
Behind Shari, she could see the T-Men getting out of their cars. Some already had handguns ready, and one was carrying what looked like a submachine gun. Kayla swallowed awkwardly.
"We're not here for a fight," Shari said loudly. "I need to talk with Carlos Hernandez. Where is he?"
"He's not here," Ramon said. He walked forward from behind a parked van, matching gazes with the strange woman. Kayla wanted to scream. No, Ramon, please, don't get yourself killed, not over me. . . .
"We need to talk," Shari said. "Tell him that I work for Nate Shea. He probably will recognize the name—Nate is one of the major drug suppliers for downtown L.A. We don't supply the Tyrone Street Boys, but he should know the name. I need to talk to him . . ."—her eyes drifted to Kayla, who felt like a rabbit caught out in front of a hawk—" . . . and that child as well. We'll wait in the car until Carlos arrives." She turned and walked back across the street, as elegant as a princess.
<W1%-12>"<|><D%0>'Berta," Ramon called quietly, and Roberta edged forward from the side of the building. She looked like she was close to tears, holding Juanita protectively in her arms. "Go upstairs and call Carlos," Ramon instructed Roberta. "And don't come back down here, no matter what happens."
"Ramie, they might kill you!"
"I know, I know. Just go now, quickly. Kayla, you go with her."
"I want to stay with you!" Kayla protested.
Ramon gave her a sad smile. "Please, querida. You are a brave girl, but you shouldn't be here. Go upstairs now, please."
Kayla glanced at the woman—she could see her face, serene and inhuman, through the window of the white Mercedes. "Okay. Okay, I'll go up." She walked with Roberta to the entrance of the apartment building and up the three flights of stairs. Roberta set baby Juanita down on the couch and picked up the phone, dialing quickly. She spoke into it for a few minutes in Spanish, then hung up. As she picked up Juanita again, Kayla could see the tears in her eyes.
"Hey, it'll be okay," Kayla said, wondering if her words sounded as empty to Roberta as they did to her.
Roberta held the baby very close to her, tears falling down her face and soaking into the baby's shirt. Kayla sat next to her on the couch, not certain what to do. Hesitantly, she put her arm around Roberta's shoulders. "It'll be all right, you'll see."
The young woman shook her head, not answering.
The next half hour was the longest of Kayla's life, as she wondered who was going to come through the door next. Ramon and Carlos, to tell them that everything was okay? The woman and the T-Men, planning to kill them?
That woman, Shari . . . Kayla still couldn't believe what she'd seen. She knew the woman wasn't a normal human being, but what else could she be? It didn't make any sense. There just weren't people with pointy ears walking around in Los Angeles—she couldn't be real. Except that she was downstairs in the street right now, sitting in a white Mercedes.
She wanted to ask Roberta about it, but Roberta was obviously not interested in conversation. She sat nervously on the couch, waiting for something to happen.
Eventually there was a knock at the door, and when she saw that Roberta wasn't going to get up to answer it, Kayla walked over and opened the door. It was the homeboy who had been guarding Kayla. He spoke to Roberta in Spanish.
"You need to go with him," she said. "Carlos is downstairs, talking with the woman, and they need you there as well."
Kayla followed him down to the street. Carlos and Ramon were standing on the sidewalk, talking with the woman. "Bruja," Carlos said, "this woman has questions for you."
"Tell me about your magic, girl," Shari said.
Feeling very self-conscious, Kayla explained what had happened to her in the last two weeks, ending with walking into the warehouse after the gunfight last night and what had happened there. The woman nodded as she finished, and spoke quietly. "I believe I may have a solution to the problems between the T-Men and the Tyrone Street Boys. Nate is interested in you, girl. I believe he could end this war by paying off the T-Men, convincing them to pursue other ventures . . . if you will agree to work for him. He could make this financially lucrative for Carlos Hernandez and his Tyrone Street Boys, as well."
"I'd be willing to help both groups, anybody who needs it," Kayla said. "Just so they stop killing each other. That's all I'm asking." She glanced at Ramon. "I don't want anyone else to get killed, y'know?"
"We'll think about it, after you leave," Carlos said. His lips were very tight, and he was watching the guys in the parked cars very closely.
"That would be fine." The woman removed a business card from her purse. "Call me later today, if you would. I'll talk to Nate immediately to work out the details."
Carlos took the card from her. She walked back to the white Mercedes. A few minutes later, the convoy of cars left, following the Mercedes. Carlos stood watching until the last car disappeared around the corner. "Upstairs," he said abruptly. "We have to talk about this now."
"Didn't you guys see it?" Kayla asked, running up the stairs behind Carlos and Ramon. "Didn't you see it?"
"See what, querida?" Ramon asked.
"That woman, Shari!"
"I've met Shari before," Carlos said grimly. "And her employer, Nate Shea. We are in worse trouble than we were before, Ramie."
"But doesn't she look just a little . . . weird . . . to you? I mean, you saw it, right? Her face? Her eyes? Her ears?"
"Stop talking nonsense, girl," Carlos said. "Her ears are just like the rest of her. We have serious business to talk about now."
They didn't see it, neither of them saw that she isn't human. Kayla stopped for a moment on the stairs, staring at Carlos and Ramon. How could they miss it? She's got bigger ears than Mister Spock! Maybe she got those eyes from a fancy pair of contact lenses, but those ears were real! Come on, guys, I know you're not blind!
Maybe there's something else going on here. She recognized me the minute she saw me, she knew what I can do. Maybe this is some kind of thing that most people can't see, something to do with magic. I can see her for what she is, but no one else can.
This is too weird for words!
Kayla followed them back into the apartment. Roberta was all over Carlos a half-second later, crying and hugging him. He said something gentle to her in Spanish, and she went back to the couch, picking up little Juanita, who had started to roll toward the edge of the sofa.
Carlos sat down heavily next to Roberta. For a moment, he played with baby Juanita, letting her tug on his fingers, before he spoke again. "I don't know what to do, Ramie. This is an impossible situation."
"What's so impossible about it?" Kayla spoke up. "Seems like it's the perfect solution, everything works out great for everyone."
"It isn't that easy, bruja."
"Why not?"
Ramon explained quietly, as Carlos stood and paced the room. "Nate Shea, that is why. He is a major drug supplier to most of Los Angeles, a very dangerous man. Our fight with the T-Men is bad, but not as bad as angering Nate would be. At least in the war with the T-Men, there's a chance we could win, or force them to quit."
"But what she talked about was terrific! It could work!"
Carlos whirled to face her. "But what if it doesn't? Then we are in a war with not only the T-Men but also Shea, who owns his own private army! We can't win!"
"But you don't have to fight!"
Carlos sat down on a chair across from her. "Bruja, you know that the T-Men are trying to kill all of us. I think they might kill you, or worse, if you go with them. We can't trust them. Perhaps we can trust Nate Shea, but I don't know. The T-Men are a lot of business to Nate, millions of dollars a year, and he may decide to go along with what they want rather than lose their business. We're nothing beside that. And next to that, what are you?" He shook his head. "No. I won't risk it."
"But don't you see, it could stop this war! I'm willing to take the risk," Kayla said, trying to keep from getting angry.
"And why are you so willing to take this risk for us?" Carlos asked. "You're not one of us, you've said that yourself. Call 911, you said. Why have you changed your mind?"
Kayla flushed, and glanced at Ramon across the room. "I don't want anyone else to die. That's all. If I can make a difference, then I want to give it a try."
"She has a point," Ramon began. "I agree that it's dangerous, but it could be worth a try."
"But how do we know?" Carlos paced to the window, looking out. "How do we know?"
"It's a leap of faith," Kayla said. "There isn't any way to know. Ramon . . . Ramon could go with me, make sure that they don't do anything bad to me. They ought to agree to that."
"Eh, I like that idea," Ramon said, smiling at her.
"Be quiet!" Carlos snapped at him. "Can't you see that all of this could be a trick? They'll take the bruja away from us, and then there'll be nothing to stop them from killing all of us! Can't you think for once with something other than your pene?"
Ramon's face flushed suddenly. "At least I'm not afraid to admit that I care about someone," he said, looking down at his shoes.
"No," Carlos said. "And that's final. I'm going to call this Shari woman and tell her that there is no deal. And you, girl, go pack up your clothes. We're taking you to another house, a safer place. Roberta, you too. I want you to call Luisa and your cousins at work, tell them not to come home for a few days. The T-Men know that you live here, and I think they'll be back."
I don't know if we'll be safe, even here, Carlos thought, walking with the bruja into Luis' home, an old house several miles away from Roberta's apartment. It was plainly furnished, but clean and neat. Luis and his wife showed Kayla to a small spare bedroom, as Carlos and half a dozen of his homeboys set up chairs in the living room, carrying in pizza boxes and six-packs of beer.
He tried not to think about it as they ate pizza for dinner, watching the football game on the television. Luis tried to make a joke about a bad football play, but no one laughed. Everyone was tense, even Ramon.
They know that the T-Men are going to come after us, and maybe Shea's people, too. Did I do the right thing? he asked himself, glancing at the bruja seated across the room from him, watching the game.
The girl excused herself after the game ended, disappearing into the spare bedroom down the hall. Carlos caught Ramon watching her as she walked away, and smiled to himself. Now that was a good way to keep the bruja with them and happy, if only he could be certain that it wouldn't affect her magic. He needed to talk with his grandmother again, to find out more about whether letting Ramon sleep with the girl would hurt her magic.
He yawned and stretched. It was too early to be sleepy, not even 10 P.M. yet. He drank from his beer and yawned again.
Luis was already asleep, sitting on the couch with his arm around his wife. Ramon, too, looked like he was about to nod off. It had been a long day, true, but he knew he needed to tell one of the boys to stay awake, keep a watch for the T-Men. . . . The empty beer can slid from his fingers onto the floor as he yawned again. . . .
Kayla tried to concentrate on reading the book about the magical white horses, but it was impossible. I can't believe Carlos is doing this. It'll never end now, not until everyone's dead . . . oh God, I don't want that to happen, I don't want to see Ramon dead. . . .
She stared at the open page of the book until the words blurred. Angrily, she brushed the tears away from her eyes. <T>
It's not fair, it's not right. Maybe Carlos will change his mind, though I think there's a snowball's chance of that. But it's not too late. Hell, maybe I can convince Ramon to go over his head, call that Shari lady himself. Ramon understands, he knows we should do this. But he lets Carlos make the decisions.
She didn't know when her mind had changed so much, from wanting to get away from Ramon and the homeboys to wanting to make sure that nothing bad happened to them. I should get out of here while I still can, before it gets worse. Wait for the right opportunity, maybe later tonight, and slip out of here when everyone's asleep. . . .
Through the wall, she could hear Carlos and the other homeboys talking about something. Don't think they're going to call it a night anytime soon.
She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. She didn't know why she was so tired, she'd slept late enough in the morning . . . it didn't make any sense, didn't . . .
Kayla rubbed her eyes and picked up the book again. Maybe she was still exhausted from everything that had happened, maybe this was her body's way of telling her to chill out and get some rest. Maybe . . . maybe . . .
The book slipped from her fingertips as she drifted off to sleep.
Sharanya stepped quietly into the house, past the sleeping figures in the living room. She paused in front of Carlos, deftly reaching into his shirt pocket to remove her business card. The card glowed slightly at her touch. No need to leave this behind, with its odd set of runes and glyphs disguised as a business logo. True, she might need to track down Carlos again, but better not to leave any clues behind. There was always the risk that someone else among the Tyrone Street Boys would have some magical talent and figure out how she had tracked them to this place.
She walked down the short hallway, following her magic sense to a closed door. She opened it silently. Inside, the young mage was asleep on the bed, a book fallen by her open hand.
Kayla dreamed of dancing. It was a warm moonlit night, and she was standing in an open meadow that was ringed with tiny mushrooms, watching the dancers. All those strange people with the pointed ears and delicate, inhuman faces, dressed in elegant flowing clothing, whirled and turned to the music. The women wore long gowns of bright colors, silver and blue and green and gold, and the men were in short jackets and odd-looking pants, laughing and speaking among themselves as they moved through the dance. Kayla could hear the melody but she couldn't see the musicians, the slow strings and soft flutes, the delicate sound of a harp, playing from somewhere unseen. So she watched the dancers, entranced, as the beautiful people moved in graceful patterns on the silver-edged grass.
Someone was calling to her, asking her to join them. She shook her head, terrified that she would ruin the beauty of the dance. She wasn't dressed for it, she didn't know how to dance . . . a silver-haired man smiled at her, and she saw that she was now dressed as they were, in a heavy gown of black velvet and pearls, swirling skirts that brushed against her bare feet.
Their hands reached to her, drawing her in. The silver-haired man bowed to her as he took her hand, leading her in the steps of the dance.
Everything blurred around her as she danced: the world seeming to fade away to nothing but this meadow and the dancers, their laughter and words blending in with the music. The lights of the city beyond the car window blended in as well, melting into the moonlight and the dancing figures.
Kayla came back to herself with a start. The dancers faded away, to be replaced with the smooth leather seats and dark interior of a BMW convertible. The dark-haired woman with the pointed ears—Shari?—was in the driver's seat next to her, watching Kayla with a small smile.
"Almost there," Shari said. "Are you awake now?"
"Where?" Kayla tried to say, but her voice wasn't working right. She felt like she was still dancing, whirling and spinning in the patterns of the dance, with everything moving around her.
"I thought so," the woman said. "That's good . . . you'll need to be awake. Nataniel wants to talk with you."
Nataniel? Kayla wanted to ask, but decided against it. None of this made any sense. One minute she'd been asleep at the house, now she was halfway across the city in a car with the weirdest lady she'd ever seen, with no memory of how she'd gotten there.
I have to get out of here!
She casually moved her hand to the door handle, ready to shove the door open and jump. The car wasn't going too fast; she could roll out and probably be okay, nothing worse than bruises. Kayla tensed to shove the door, then felt her hand lift from the handle, drifting back to her lap of its own accord. She looked over at the odd woman in shock.
Shari smiled.
Kayla clenched her hands into fists, trying to keep from shaking. It was all too weird, too much for her to understand. She thought about hitting the woman or grabbing for the hand brake to stop the car . . . her hands froze in place, she couldn't feel them anymore, couldn't even wiggle her fingers. "Just another few minutes, girl," Shari said without looking at her. "Sit there quietly, we'll be there soon."<T>
How can I sit here quietly when you're screwing with my brain? Kayla wanted to scream at her, but her voice wasn't working any better than her hands. She sat quietly in the passenger seat of the car, because she didn't have any choice in the matter.
She could still turn her head, though, so she looked out the window. They were driving down a residential street near the ocean; she could see the wide expanse of white beach beyond the houses.
Shari brought the car to a stop in front of a two-story house. "It's just a few stairs up to the door. You can walk, can't you?"
For an answer, Kayla felt her legs straighten and her hand push open the car door. She followed Shari up the steps and through the front door of the house, into the darkened hallway and back to an open patio door. Someone was outside, standing in the shadows on the deck, looking out at the bright moon on the blackness of the ocean.
"I've brought her, my lord," Shari said, and Kayla was surprised to hear the respectful tone in her voice.
The man turned. He was tall, with pointed ears and short pale blond hair, wearing a long robe that looked Japanese . . . and he has blue eyes, those same catlike blue eyes that she has. And those slitted eyes are looking at me like a piece of dead meat, Kayla thought. Even Shari looks friendlier than this guy. Kayla wished she could run, just get anywhere away from these two, run away as fast as she could. . . .
With a start, she felt her legs unlock, and fell backwards into a deck chair with a thump.
"Sit down, girl," Shari said unnecessarily.
"So, this is the new human mage," the man said quietly, walking closer. "She doesn't look like much, Shari."
"There's no way to know what she can do," Shari said.
Kayla felt like a bug under a microscope, with the two strange people staring down at her. "Who are you, and what are you?" she asked, as calmly as she could. "And why can't other people see what you are?"
The man nodded. "Good questions. I suppose I'll answer them." He pulled another deck chair closer and relaxed into it. "I am Nate Shea. Sharanya, you've met. To answer your second question: we are elven, the faerie folk." He smiled as Kayla sat up straighter, staring at him. "Yes, all the old legends are true. The elf-folk who live under the hill, dancing in the faerie ring in the moonlight . . . all quite true. When times became difficult, many centuries ago, we left the Old Country and came to America."
His voice tightened. "I was a lord of our Court, a Prince. But many years ago, I was banished from our court because of my . . . ambitions. I came to the human world to begin again, with my faithful Sharanya and other followers at my side." Kayla saw Shari's mouth twist at those last words, looking down at her hands. Not so faithful as all of that, Kayla thought. This guy's not so smart. Can't he see that Shari hates him?
"And to answer your last question," Nataniel continued. "The humans don't see us as what we are because we don't want them to. Surely you can understand that, being what you are."
And what does he think I am? Kayla wondered.
He smiled, as if knowing her thoughts. "A very frightened human child, who also knows the ways of magic." He took her hands in his, looking into her eyes. She couldn't look away, couldn't pull away . . . the room tilted around her, strange colors and scents moving past her. She saw a blur of images: herself, standing next to the racks of potato chips with the fire burning over her hands; Billy's blood on her fingers, the wound slowly sealing itself as she watched; the crazy man in the jail, shouting at her.
Devil's daughter! You're the Devil's daughter!
The images faded as her hands burst into flame, cold blue fire flickering over her fingers. It illuminated the patio, the light reflected in Nataniel's and Shari's catlike eyes.
"As I thought," Nataniel said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. He leaned back in his chair, watching her. "So, what shall we do with you, little girl?"
He makes my skin crawl, Kayla thought. I don't know who this guy is, or what he wants with me, but I don't like the way he looks at me.
"Do you think she's strong enough to go against Queen Lilith, my lord?" Shari asked quietly.
Nataniel's eyes never left Kayla's face. "Possibly. Quite possibly." He steepled his fingers together. "I have a business proposition for you, girl. As I said, I am a banished prince, unjustly exiled from my homeland. If you're powerful enough, you could help me regain my position in the Unseelie Court. And I'd reward you greatly. What do you wish for?" He spread his hands wide. "Cars, jewelry, money, property . . . anything could be yours. Is there a man that you want? We can make sure that he'll always want you, that he'll never even think of anyone else."
Kayla thought about one particular man and his laughing dark eyes. She thought about how she'd feel if she knew that he'd never leave her, he'd always love her . . .
No. That's not right. They shouldn't do this to anyone. Playing with people's minds, treating them like they're toys—that's not right.
"What—what if I don't want to?" she asked hesitantly. "What if I just want to go home?"
Nataniel shrugged. "Then you can leave, of course. We won't stop you."
"You mean it?" Kayla stared at him in surprise.
"Of course." He smiled. "I'm asking for your help, not demanding it. If you don't want to help me, you can leave, just walk out the door."
Shari and Nataniel exchanged silent looks. Kayla thought she could hear a whisper of sound in the silence, something quieter than the waves against the sand, but it was too faint to make out all of the words. . . .
: . . . through the Door, my lord?:
:If she survives, then she's of value to me. If not, then it makes no difference . . . :
Kayla decided she didn't like the look in their eyes at all. There was something in the way they were watching her, as if they were trying not to smile about a joke that she didn't know about.
"I'd like to go home and think about it," Kayla said at last. "If that's okay by you?"
"Just walk out the door, girl. We won't stop you," Nataniel said.
It sounded like the best idea yet. Maybe she could get some more information from Shari on the way home. . . .
Kayla started through the patio door to walk through the house, and stopped in mid-step.
Something was wrong. It was too quiet. It took her a half-second to realize that the sound of the ocean waves had suddenly stopped.
And it was too dark, as though the streetlights had suddenly gone out, too. She squinted, trying to see anything in the pitch darkness, and then realized what else was wrong as well.
She was standing on uneven ground, not on the carpeted floor.
Kayla concentrated hard, imagining the blue fire coiling over her outstretched hand, the lines of light rippling over her fingers. . . .
Her hand brightened with fire, enough to illuminate what was around her. She looked around quickly, and blinked.
She wasn't standing in the house. It was too dark to see, but she knew that she was Somewhere Else. Somewhere that smelled of trees and dead leaves and another smell that she couldn't identify, a strangely foul but sweet smell, like something dead and rotting. And there was something squishy underfoot that she couldn't identify, either. She stood very still, too startled and scared to move.
The area brightened suddenly with another light, as the full moon emerged from behind the thick dark clouds overhead, illuminating the trees around with a silvery light.
Trees!
It was a forest, she could instantly see that much. Not a house in Los Angeles, but a forest. A dark, apparently endless, forest, surrounding her with trees for as far as she could see in the dim light.
Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Kayla thought in shock, staring at the forest around her.