But he looked anything but guilty as he pul ed Kyphas down the rickety stairs. He said, “You knew some horrifying details. Which meant you watched that monster torture and kil my friend. You let it al happen so you could snatch his soul and use it for bait to hook mine years later. Did it ever once occur to you to step in?” He glared at her. “Naw.
’Cause you hel spawn with your pretty faces and your demented quotas couldn’t care less about the innocent.” Bergman dragged Kyphas closer and closer to the canal while I stalked them like Yousef had been trailing me before, desperate to find my way into the action but certain of the kind of welcome I’d get if I picked the wrong approach. So I fol owed at a respectful distance and kept my trap shut, knowing that if I threw Bergman off his game now Kyphas would seize the advantage and break every bone in his body.
Cirilai sent wave after wave of warmth up my arm, tel ing me that Vayl and Cole were on their way. The fact that neither they nor Sterling had said a word meant they thought Bergman had plugged into the Party Line too.
Sucked a little that we’d have to communicate using hand signals and instinct, but you took what you got. I could only hope that Sterling had been around us long enough to tune into our vibe.
Which left the robokitty, stil trotting at Bergman’s feet like she’d been trained to heel. Hard to tel how she could help, especial y if Bergman had already used one of her ass grenades to break down Kyphas’s door. Too bad we couldn’t fit a whole arsenal into that sleek little torso of hers.
Then we could back her up to the plane portal and have her lob them right into hel . I’d be wil ing to bet that just viewing the wreckage would make al of Kyphas’s working parts seize up like an oil-starved engine.
Which brought me back to Raoul, who liked engines, especial y when they were pul ing trains. I nearly cal ed him then. But he’d given Bergman the daggers to start with.
He’d known this moment had been brewing. Could probably see it al happening from his penthouse on-high.
So what if Cole crapped out in the process? An acceptable loss, maybe. Or maybe he just liked hearing me beg for my loved one’s lives.
I did nearly fal to my knees when that thunderous voice of his fil ed my head, blasting away al doubt as to who was the more powerful of us two, and therefore likely to kick my ass into oblivion.
YOU ARE POISED AT THE EDGE OF YOUR LIFE’S
PRECIPICE. YOU CAN CLIMB. OR FALL. BUT YOU
MUST MOVE!
Raoul’s undertone came clear to me as wel . Stop whining and do what you do best. Not everything is your fault. Cole left the Trust, which made him vulnerable to Kyphas and the Rocenz. Bergman’s fury at his helplessness as a child led him to choose the time and moment of his attack. Don’t let their actions, and your fear of the consequences, paralyze you.
I took a deep breath, paused to reload Grief, and moved on.
I caught up to Bergman, Astral, and Kyphas at the edge of the alcove. Leaning against the corner of the building for the few seconds it took to wipe the sweat off my face, I tried to get my bearings. The vat glowed with a light so alien I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn the mother ship was buried just under the tannery’s surface. Sterling’s net had begun to sag under the weight of dust particles and smal rocks, which attached themselves to it like iron filings to a magnet. As soon as they touched, a bright blue flame leaped up and they hardened. Already I could see a new lid forming where the old one had been before.
As if he wanted her to witness the process up close, Bergman had dragged Kyphas right to the tank’s edge.
She was wailing now. Begging him not to throw her in.
Astral, perching on a pil ow-sized piece of rubble, seemed to be egging him on. The fire reflected eerily in her black eyes as she sang a tune by Bobby “Boris” Pickett, in such an authentic voice that I felt a smile stretch my lips. “They did the mash. They did the monster mash.” Somehow Astral’s song cleared the air just enough that I realized I could speak safely. “Bergman,” I said softly. “You can’t open the canal. Sterling’s net is there to keep Kyphas’s al ies from attacking us. No tel ing what you’l release if—”
He yel ed, “Yousef! Are we set?”
Behind us, my stalker cal ed back happily, “It is done, Mr. Miles! Come and see!” Bergman’s smile raised goose bumps on my arms. But nothing had happened to the net. It continued to cover the vat, sparkling like a spiderweb covered in dew. So what—
Miles told me, “I know better than to touch the canal. It’s not necessary anyway. I didn’t even know about it when I made this plan.”
My headache gained strength again, pounding against my temples as I said, “Oh?” Politely. Because he’d changed. When I wasn’t looking, he’d become fierce and unpredictable. I gave him my Southern bel e do-tell nod.
He explained, his tone real gentlemanly as he said, “I knew you’d show. You always do. And Raoul told me that where you are, a portal eventual y appears. He doesn’t know why, but… see? There it is.”
He nodded, glancing over my shoulder as he did, so I looked. He was right, a plane portal stood in the middle of the tannery, just in front of a tank twice as large as the canal. It contained the swamp of chemicals necessary to begin the whole leather-making process. Balancing on the edge of the vat, Yousef stood holding a smal , leather-bound book in one hand.
“I make a perfect place to put her!” Yousef said proudly, motioning to the door, the center of which wasn’t its usual motioning to the door, the center of which wasn’t its usual velvety black. I’d underestimated my stalker again. When he’d told me his workplace was considered the doorway to the land of the dead, I didn’t realize that he could open those doors.
“So what’s next?” I asked, careful to keep my eyes on Bergman despite the fact that they wanted to dart to Sterling, who’d just dropped off the roof of the building opposite mine. His move reminded me of Mary Poppins.
Only instead of holding an umbrel a he had a rope that lowered him so gently you’d swear his best friend was standing on the anchored side. Al he had to do was stick a sandaled foot through the loop he’d tied to the end and hang on. I glanced at my broken fingernails, my bruised toes, and thought, Wielders piss me off.
Which was probably why Bergman knew the warlock had joined us. He could read my expressions better than I could Vayl’s. Without turning his head he said, “Hey, Sterling, what’s up?”
“Not much. How they hanging, dude?”
“One’s a little lower than the other but my doctor says I can stil have kids. How about you?”
Sterling was struggling too hard against a sudden urge to laugh to be able to form a coherent reply.
“How about you, Vayl?” Bergman asked, so überaware that he’d detected the vampire’s presence even before I had, and I was wearing his ring! I turned to find my sverhamin standing just behind me holding Cole in his arms.