Chapter
Fifteen:
Chime checked the time. It was
late in the night. Or early in the morning. The airport was still crowded but
there was a quiet hush to the atmosphere, a certain peace. Her new clear
blue-tinted eyes took in everything and she searched for any familiar faces,
anyone who could have been following her. But she saw nothing. Only people
mulling about.
She had borrowed some clothes. Black pants that fit
like a second skin but opened up toward the bottom of the legs, enough to fit
around boots. A sleeveless navy blue tank top allowed her to move comfortably
and the leather jacket was warm over her cold skin. She looked down at her duffel
bag. She had also borrowed a pocketknife Rachael had owned. Obviously the girl
knew how to protect herself. The laminated scroll pieces and computer printouts
were in a manila folder inside. The box that had held the scrolls had been left
in Rachael Cain's house, along with Rachael who wouldn't wake up for another
two days.
More than enough time for Chime
to get to the museum and get herself killed.
She shook her head. She
shouldn't think like that and especially not at this time. Now she had to make
sure Rachael Cain didn't arrive late for her 1:00 am flight to Cairo, Egypt.
She knew the witches would be keeping an eye out for anyone heading toward
Iran. That was fine. Once she reached Cairo she would find another way to reach
Iran. To reach the museum.
To reach Rayne.
She swallowed. "I'm coming for
you, Endymion." She whispered and running a hand through her new short, dark
hair she headed for her gate.
The Past:
There was something in the air. A gentle breeze. A
faint melody. And a soft, soft scent. She looked down at the old rickety bridge
she stood on, at the stream running under it and then at the mossy green banks
bordering the stream. It was lovely, all of it. She had never cared for it, but
things were so different now, so much better. She felt happy, unconditionally
so. She wanted to throw herself off the bridge and fall to the stream, fall to
the earth and lay there in the sun forever.
Her vision was suddenly impaired as hands closed over
her eyes.
"Hello." A quiet voice whispered close to her ear,
soft breath warming the lobe.
She smiled faintly under the hands as the darkness
before her eyes slowly turned a dark pink, the color pounding with life.
"Rayne?"
The hands came away. Falling to the wooden rails of
the bridge on either side of her. And a strong body leaned against her.
"Maybe." He answered against her cheek. "Maybe not. Someone dear to you?"
She shrugged, looking down at his hands. They were
long fingered, slender. Elegant. Perfect. She lifted her own hands to cover his,
entwining her fingers through his. "My soulmate." She replied and she lifted
her gaze to the blue sky, watched as the crystal clear heavens turned a
golden-flushed rose.
The person behind her sighed. "I see. But he isn't
here with you now. Which means I have you to myself." There was a suggestive
tone to his voice that she found utterly delicious and rather devilish. He was
up to his arrogant ways again. Further taken as his chin came to rest on her
shoulder.
She bit back a grin. "True." She nodded slightly,
feeling the tips of his wild bangs brush against her cheek. "All right. But
whatever you do, don't tell Rayne."
The person pulled back a bit. "Say again?" he
demanded in a feigned hurt tone.
Chime whirled, breaking into laughter and she
embraced him, feeling as light as air. Her cheek rubbed against his jaw, her
carefree giggles carrying around her. His arms met around her back after a
moment and he exhaled against her comfortably.
"What did you do today?" he asked, seeming perfectly
content to stay in her embrace.
She didn't mind either. She felt protected in his
arms, feeling his sharp angles and surfaces settle against her curves. They fit
together, could mold their bodies into one if they tried, she knew. But she was
happy to just breathe the same air he breathed, share the same space. She
inhaled deeply, taking in as much air as she could fit in her lungs and then
she pulled back to stare into his amber eyes. "The usual." She said, noting
with pleasure that he didn't let her escape him much, as his hands were still
firmly wrapped around her waist. "Helle and I planted some and took care of the
gardens." She shrugged again, falling back into just gazing into his warm eyes.
And then she found herself lifting her fingers to them, to his lashes. His
eyelids vanished into single folds, the epicanthic fold, and his lashes were so
thick and long they seemed to elongate the lines of his eyes. His irises were
mere circles of hot amber, pupils wide.
But there was an impatience there, a slight shift in
his mood. "Hellewise again." He sighed. "Always with Hellewise."
A tired frown creased Chime's brow. "Rayne-"
He closed his eyes, hard jaw setting grimly. Then he
opened them and glanced off with a weary nod. "I know, I know." He said
quietly, "But I just don't…" he winced, lines appearing along his forehead with
the gesture, "I don't like you with her. She's a witch…" he broke off, the
corners of his lips tightening.
Chime tilted her head. "She's not so bad. She's
actually quite nice. And if you two became friends my family would be
complete." She smiled, knowing the mere thought of befriending Hellewise made
him retch.
Sure enough he snorted. "Chime, the day I befriend her is the day lightning will strike
me down." His arms tightened around her. "Besides, my family is complete. I
have you. And all I would ever need is you. But I also have…" he suddenly broke
off, glancing at her cautiously.
Chime had already caught on. "Your prince. Of course.
You will always have your Prince." She stated stonily. "Am I right?"
Rayne exhaled, impatient this time. "Chime-"
"You hold him in such high, regard, your prince. But
he is one man." She took a step back, out of his arms. "Not even a man. A
creature!"
The pupils of Rayne's eyes shrank into ellipses and
Chime knew she was pushing it. When he was mad the amber of his eyes seemed to
boil. And they were steaming now. "What is your fascination with this topic?
It's always the same thing!"
Chime shook her head and reached out, taking his hand
in hers. "Your allegiance to him scares me, Rayne. He is but one man and yet
you would give up everything for him. Everything!" she swallowed, clasping his
hand with both of hers. And she was cold, deep inside. She looked down at it,
his hand. At the slender fingers that were curled around hers. And then she
raised her eyes to him and lifted his hand against her heart. "Why?" she
whispered.
Rayne stared at her, jaw clenched. And he shook his
head wordlessly.
Chime gazed back. Her heartbeat seemed to pulse all
around, the throb running down his arm. "And me?" she asked softly, as light as
a leaf falling through the air. "Would you give me up?"
Rayne's eyes dropped to his hand, his knuckles
pressed against her heart.
Chime blinked, feeling tears unbearably close to the
surface of her eyes. He wasn't answering her question. Why wasn't he answering
her question? She dug her nails into his palm and he grimaced, quickly
controlling the slip of expression. It wasn't a physical pain he was showing
her. "Answer me." She said quietly and then louder, her face nearly crumbling,
"Answer me! Would you sacrifice me to save your prince?"
Rayne's eyes seemed to be glued to their hands.
"Yes." He answered, almost inaudibly. He blinked once, lashes sweeping down
momentarily as he inhaled shakily. "Yes, I would."
Chime's lips parted in disbelief. No, not disbelief.
Pain. Terrible pain, so powerful it was physical. A single tear rolled down her
face but she was too stupid, struck dumb, to notice it. Rayne reached a hand up
toward her face, alarmed, but she stepped back once more, ramming into the
bridge railing. And then she looked down to see his hand still caught in her
grasp and she flung it away, pulling away with an expression close to horrified
shock.
He
tried to say her name, she knew he did. But his lips moved and nothing came out
but an exhalation of breath. And even if he had had anything to say she
wouldn't have been able to hear it. She stumbled to the side, practically
staggering, her hand lifting to cup over her mouth.
'I kissed you, I loved you. I told you everything.
Everything! I gave you everything!' It was all she could think, all she could
repeat to herself. She couldn't breathe, could only gasp as pain washed over
her. She had never felt so cold, so dead. Not even when her beloved mother had
died.
Without another word she turned from him and walked
away, her knees unsteady.
And his voice followed her.
The
Present
Several
hours later:
There was a hard pounding at the
door.
Thea's eyes snapped open and she
sat up instantly. Over at the window Blaise whirled in her seat, blinking. She
was pale, dark circles under her eyes. Thea stared at her, moved to ask if she
had slept at all. But then Iliana threw open the door, cheeks red.
"We may have something!" she
shouted, a mixture of worry and elation on her face. "Hell," she corrected
herself a moment later, "we do have something!"
Thea rolled off the bed, rising.
And she felt dizzy. Moving too fast was never a good thing. She gave herself a
second to regain her bearings before blinking and looking toward the flushed
Wild Power. "What did you find?"
Iliana motioned, backing out of
the doorways into the hallway. "Rachael Cain, age 26. She was found unconscious
by a friend yesterday morning. There were signs of a struggle, a gun on the
floor-"
Blaise followed Thea, frowning
impatiently as Iliana rambled on.
"And the best part!" Iliana
practically shrieked. "The box of dragon scrolls! Without the scrolls
themselves but Chime was there!"
"Was?" Thea asked in a hard
tone.
Iliana nodded as she turned and
led the witch cousins toward the large staircase. "Was." She repeated. "Some of
Rachael's stuff is gone. A leather jacket. Pants. Boots." She glanced at Thea
over her shoulder. "Credit card."
"Has she used it?" Blaise asked
instantly.
Iliana grinned knowingly. "Yup.
One am flight to Cairo, Egypt."
Thea looked at Blaise. "Chime.
She's going to the First House. She's actually going-" she said, panic
beginning to set in.
Blaise waved a hand at her. "The
First House isn't in Egypt. It's in Iran." She said patiently.
"Yeah." Iliana agreed. "But the
way we figure it she's going to Egypt and from there she'll go a different
route toward Persepolis."
"Toward where?" Thea asked and
she was her cousin's twin as her patience began to thin.
"Persepolis." Iliana said again.
"According to Mother Cybele Persepolis was this ceremonial capital of some
Persian Empire, some dynasty back in the day. And some of it still stands. But
what was written in the scrolls is that the Persians came across the deserted
remains of the First House and built from there, made it some big place to
honor some king." She shrugged.
Blaise had an eyebrow arched.
"How very informative you are."
Thea shook her head, "But it's not
all still standing?"
Iliana's expression turned
woeful. "Persepolis was burned by Alexander the Great. Any of it still
standing, such as the First House, was renovated to look the way it had before.
The Persians made records of what the audience halls looked like and they were
used to restore a bit of it. But not all."
Blaise was nodding now. "Just
the First House. Because it's the biggest piece of Night World history."
Thea shook her head
thoughtfully. "Not Night World history, exactly. History of the dragons.
Vampires didn't enter that picture until several years later when Maya turned."
She broke off, exhaling. "So, she's heading to Persepolis." She murmured. Her
eyes caught on Iliana and she slowed, forcing the Witch Child to halt. "And is
she going to get into the First House?" she asked pointedly.
Blaise looked toward Iliana,
bored once more it seemed.
Iliana shook her head. "I doubt
it. She's down to half-strength and she was never full-blooded. There are
powerful wards up around the First House plus witch guards." She shrugged. "My
guess is she's formidable but it would take all her remaining strength to bring
down the wards."
Thea inhaled, lips tightening at
the answer. "Will they hurt her?" she asked stiffly.
Iliana cast a quick glance at
Blaise but Thea knew her cousin wasn't going to help her. Sure enough the Witch
Child's eyes were back on her in a second. "If it's necessary." She answered
reluctantly. And she added quickly, "You know as well as I do, Thea, if she makes
it this world is going down in flames. It's improbable but not impossible."
Thea nodded stonily and brushed
passed, heading toward the main floor. With a sigh Blaise followed, Iliana
bringing up the rear wordlessly.
Chime yawned wearily, checking her
watch. She had slept on the plane, had a distant dream of Rayne, of the time he
had finally let her know exactly what the Prince had meant to him. Needless to
say it had not been the best memory. But then again, they were soulmates. Even
soulmates had problems, ran into walls in their relationship.
She looked about. First things
first before she began to think about Rayne all over again. She had to purchase
a few maps. A map of Cairo and the quickest way out of there to Iran. She
caught sight of a small shop in the airport and wandered over.
"I need a map." She said to the
small man behind the counter.
He nodded, mumbling under his
breath in a different language. Vaguely familiar, the language. She could catch
a few words of it. Then he was holding up a map and she took it from him,
smiling cheerfully. With a wave she turned and moved off, leaving the man to
shout after her.
It was hot. She jammed the map
into her mouth, holding it with her teeth as she stripped off the leather
jacket and then she secured the jacket on top of her duffel bag, keeping it
close to her hip. Another few steps took her toward the bathroom. She floated
in, pausing by the mirror to check her face and realize she still chewed on the
map. "Hmm…"
She ducked into an empty stall and
locked it, putting down the duffel bag with a sigh. Thank the Goddess, the
strap was making her shoulder sweat. With a sigh she opened up the map and
looked at it.
One direct route would take her
out of Cairo. And she could see she was not far away from that highway.
She closed the map, stuffing it
into the side pocket of the duffel bag. The folder's corner poked up inside the
flimsy material of the bag and she smoothed it down carefully, tying the strap
of the bag around the leather jacket. Her hair was short, unfortunately so she
had borrowed a bandanna from Rachael to cover her horns. Now she untied it from
her neck and adjusted it around her head, knotting it at the base of her neck.
There. Perfect. She now felt good enough, confidant to find Rayne. She picked
up the duffel bag, managing to fit the now-tight strap around her shoulder and
across her breast.
Her knees trembled a bit.
After all the rest she had
gotten she had prayed that she wouldn't still be weak when she awoke. But it
was almost worse when she woke. She couldn't feel her black power in her blood,
could almost convince herself it wasn't there. In fact she had done that to
herself, scaring the wits out of herself. She had to call to it to make sure it
was still present. And if she didn't pay enough attention her disguise would
begin to shift away back into its original form. She was still fast, definitely
faster than a human, could react quickly, but she felt as if her senses were
muffled.
And she found herself slowly
getting scared again. What was she going to do if vampires attacked her?
Shape-shifters? If they found her they would easily take her down, rip her
apart. She swallowed, looking around the stall as a sudden claustrophobia
clutched at her.
Breathe, Chime. Breathe.
She couldn't afford to be
scared. Not right now. Her life depended on her clear-headedness and she needed
to keep an eye out for people who looked familiar. If they had found her after
eighteen years of hiding, after she had fled to and out of Washington, it would
only be a matter of time before they tracked her to Cairo.
Something clicked in the stall
next to hers.
She came to a dead stop. She had
not been aware that anyone had entered the bathroom. Or perhaps they had
already been there and she just hadn't noticed it. It wouldn't surprise her,
she was so absentminded these days. She shook her head and looked down at
herself once more. Everything seemed to be in place. She smirked thoughtfully
and then went through the duffel bag and pulled out the pocketknife, dropping
it into her boot snugly. She straightened and wiggled her foot a bit.
Another click came, this one
long and drawn out. Chime stopped once more and raised her eyes, keeping her
head bowed. She trained her gaze on the wall of the stall beside her, to her
right and she strained to hear. There had been something ominous in that sound.
She frowned, holding her breath and muffling any sound that she might have made
and she became aware of a shallow breathing in the stall next to hers. An
occasional deep breath being drawn in.
Something wasn't right, and as
if to prove it a shiver ran down her spine. She lifted her head slowly, all her
movements quiet and thoughtful, and she looked at the ceiling. Water pipes ran
along the ceiling, not too far above her head. And they looked like new pipes,
not rusty or chipping in the least. The ceiling itself was an ugly yellow.
She heard the moment the person
began to move. There was a quick inhalation of breath, shallow, and clothes
rustled. Then a loud explosion sounded, almost directly in her ear it seemed
and she ducked her head, pain stinging her temples. She shouldn't have been
straining to hear, it made noise all the louder in her head.
Silence ensued in which all she
heard was the faint echo of the earlier noise and a high pitched ringing. She
opened her eyes slightly and looked at the wall to her right.
There was a hole in the stall
wall.
She blinked at it in confusion,
shoulders falling back stiffly. And at that moment a second explosion sounded,
another hole appearing in the stall wall. And then a third, the terrible sound
and a third hole. But the last one brought a sharp twinge of pain and her body
suddenly spun against the opposite wall, slamming into the metal loudly. For a
moment she was stunned, her face against the cold wall and then she grimaced as
another wave of red-hot pain shot down her arm. She slowly bowed her head
against the wall and looked down at her arm, toward her elbow, trembling. There
was blood sprayed across her ivory skin, across the stall in a horrible design
and her flesh along the side of her elbow joint was torn, ripped open.
She'd been shot.
She couldn't comprehend it. It
took her a moment. She merely stared at her ruined skin, lips parted in shock.
She was automatically reaching around with her right hand, clamping down on her
elbow and wincing as it stung. And then there was blood on her right hand and
she just couldn't believe it.
With a shuddering breath she
lifted her eyes to the opposite stall wall and stared at the three holes, at
the paint that had ripped and chipped from their entry.
Gunshots. They had been
gunshots.
The door of the next stall
opened and she followed the noises fearfully, eyes wide. She heard the person
come out of the next stall, circle about to inch up and pause outside her
closed door. She looked down frantically at her arm as tears of anguish rose in
her eyes. It hurt, more than she could say.
But not as much as burning alive
had. She clenched her jaw, slowly lifting herself away from the wall and
ignoring the outline of blood she had made on it. Her eyes rose to the pipes
running above her stall and she thought fast, in panic.
A slight click came from outside
her stall and she brought her attention back down just as more explosions came.
They were somehow louder than the ones before and this time they followed in
formation. A gunshot, followed immediately by another. Holes ripping through
the metal of the wall.
And she dodged. She did her
damnedest to get out of the way but there was precious little room to maneuver
in the small cubicle. The gunshots streaked by her, some narrowly missing as
she ducked, darted and flattened herself against the walls. Others flew wild,
pounding into the brick wall behind the toilet. Her elbow burned horribly but
she forced it down, detached herself from it until it became a distracted
throbbing running under her adrenaline. She had to keep moving because
eventually her attacker would run out of ammunition.
With a growl she ducked one last
gunshot and then hopped onto the toilet seat. Another gunshot streaked by her
neck as she whirled and jumped again. Her good hand caught onto a water pipe,
her wounded arm clutched against her chest. She bent her legs in, inhaling
deeply. Then she exhaled and kicked out for the door.
Her feet slammed into the metal
and the lock broke, hinges snapping loudly. The door itself flew off its frame,
slamming directly into a person hiding behind it. A female cry rang out, ending
abruptly in a choke as the stranger, then the door, crashed into the brick wall
before Chime. A body fell to the floor, collapsing under the door and finally
there was silence.
They had found her. So quickly.
Chime lowered herself slowly,
hopping down from the pipe, her feet dropping to the tile with a soft thump.
She came forward warily and while the body hidden under the door didn't move
her hand was still wrapped around her weapon, finger caught by the trigger.
Chime moved forward silently and dropped into a crouch beside the gun, staring
at it intently. It was sleek, and it could fit comfortably in her hand. She had
had her share of weapons in the passed few years, had even been held at
gunpoint a few times. Hadn't lasted long but it had happened nonetheless. She
was tempted to laugh at the humans once more.
Then she looked at her elbow and
scowled at the wound. It was healing but her blood still ran. If she hadn't
been weakened it wouldn't have happened. Her good arm snaked out and she took
the gun into her hand. Sig Sauer. She checked the clip. Empty. Her eyes went to
the unconscious body again and she saw the metal peeking out of the belt.
The Goddess was shining now.
She took the clip from the
person's belt, jamming it into the weapon. And she admired it for a moment
before tucking it into the waistband of her pants, along her spine. Looked like
the leather jacket was going back on. She should wash herself off. But those
gunshots had been loud. If she stayed any longer she would get trapped by
security. But if she walked out bleeding she would be a sight. She was going to
have to ruin the leather jacket interior. She bent toward the duffel bag and
untied it, slipping it on once more and sighing as it molded against her body.
Then she slipped the duffel bag strap over her shoulder, tightening it. And
finally she checked her attacker.
Small. Brown-haired. Brown-eyed.
Olive complexion with a lean body.
Her eyes widened a bit. And
human. No vampire teeth. Her pupils didn't shift into ellipses when she opened
them. And while she was attractive she was not inhumanly so.
They were sending humans after
her?
The bathroom door opened and
only then did Chime realize in what position she was in. She raised her head,
blue eyes catching on a woman coming in. She wore mirrored shades, had a cap of
blood red hair and a tight jaw. And before Chime could move she had another Sig
leveled at the dragon.
She smiled coldly. "Gotcha."
