The Astronomer turned hazily visible on the balcony and bowed toward Fortunato. Jane, Fortunato thought, would still be falling. Peregrine had turned toward the rail to go after her.
The Astronomer took her by the arm and tried to throw her to the floor.
She was clearly stronger than he realized. She gritted her teeth and went to one knee, and with her free arm she reached across and clawed for the Astronomer's eyes. His thick glasses fell to the concrete and blood ran down his cheeks.
The Astronomer smiled. His tongue flicked out and caught a drop of his own blood. The glasses rose by themselves and settled back on his face.
Fortunato took all the power Miranda had given him and centered it at the Manipura chakra at the center of' his abdomen. A weird groaning noise came out of his throat and he pushed the prana, the pure energy, out of him and at the Astronomer.
It shot out of Fortunato as a glowing blue-green sphere the size of a softball. Fortunato pulled his arms back, fingers spread, his eyes stretched wide open. The prana bored through the lines of power surrounding the Astronomer and turned them inside out. From concentric circles they shrank to crescents, all on the far side of his body.
The little man's hold on Peregrine's arm began to slip. Peregrine whirled on him, slamming one knee into his crotch and breaking his nose with the palm of her right hand. Blood spurted from the Astronomer's face.
As soon as she was loose Peregrine dove over the side of the balcony, her wings beating furiously. The Astronomer spat at her and then turned back to Fortunato.
The little man's eyes were dead. The same eyes Demise had, the same eyes as the dead boy in the loft. The Astronomer had become Death itself, mindless, brutal, inevitable. You can run, the eyes said, but I will find you.
And then the Astronomer was gone.
The mass of aces wedged into the doors untangled like a slowly waking octopus. Mistral scrubbed at her tear-drenched face, raised her arms above her head, and summoned a breeze. The brisk wind whipping the choking fog into streaming white tatters seemed to free people from the horrified stasis that held them. There was an undignified rush for the door. More than a few remarks about "contacting my lawyer" hung ominously in the air, but Hiram seemed too distracted to notice. He continued to peer anxiously at the railing over which Water Lily and Peregrine had vanished. Somewhere a woman was crying, a horrible whimpering sound like an animal being tortured, then a man's voice called out desperately for a doctor. Unfortunately the only doctor available was out cold on the floor.
There came a thundering, rushing sound like a thousand swans taking to the air, and Peregrine, Water Lily cradled in her arms, landed lightly on the balcony, and glared about her.
Hiram gave an inarticulate cry, and lunged forward. Gasps and murmurs of relief rippled through the remaining guests. Both women were drenched by the unending water that poured off Water Lily, but it did little to dampen the angry, darting hawklike glances that Peregrine cast about the room.
Her eves met Fortunato's, and the fury faded from her face. The tension remained, her slender body vibrating like a plucked violin string, but it was not the tension of flight or fight, it was…
Roulette felt the blood rush to her cheeks as attraction flowed like waves off a powerful magnet between Peregrine and Fortunato. Perhaps it was a function of her power, or only an example of her disturbed mind, but the musky, heady odor of sex seemed to lay over the demolished room.
Hiram, treading with a light, fastidious gait through the carnage, stepped to Fortunato's side. "Well!" he gusted. "That was an uninspired mess. Virtually every ace in New York, and he makes a monkey of us all." His head poked accusingly at Fortunato, but the black was oblivious. "Thank God I was able to reach Lily. If she hadn't been light as air, Peregrine could never have reached her in time."
Fortunato grunted, but his eyes remained locked on Peregrine, who stood with an arm absently about Water Lily's shoulders and stared back.
"This was one time my power proved to be-" Fortunato walked away, and Peregrine, abandoning Water Lily, met him halfway.
"Fortunato, for God's sake! I'm talking to you! Can you trace him?"
The pimp pulled his gaze away from Peregrine. "If I could trace him would I have let this happen?"
Hiram spread his hands helplessly. "Then we must try to locate his lieutenants. Someone must know of his plans." Roulette pressed a hand to her throat, felt the pulse throbbing there. She stared resolutely down at Tachyon's pale face, fearful of Fortunato's piercing eyes. She lifted the bloodsoaked napkin, and swabbed at his face, but it only made it worse. The bloody wad fell from her hand, and she stared, mesmerized by the blood staining the pale skin of her palm. "Hiram, fuck off "
A stifled noise, rather like steam being vented from an engine, rose from Worchester. The burly ace seemed on the verge of apoplexy.
"I intend to do something."
"Please don't. I can do so much better without you." Fortunato tucked Peregrine's arm beneath his, and walked swiftly away before Hiram could respond to this latest insult. The winged ace threw Hiram an embarrassed, apologetic look.
Water Lily was safe. Fortunato filed that away and went to look for Croyd and Veronica and Cordelia.
He found them behind one of the overturned tables. Croyd had rescued an entire Chocolate Death and they were eating it with their fingers. When he saw Fortunato his smile went away.
"I really fucked up with Modular Man," he said. "I'm sorry."
"It doesn't matter," Fortunato said. "As long as you're all okay.
"
"We're fine," Veronica said.
"I'm going back to his place," Cordelia said. "If you're sure you don't mind."
"It's fine," Fortunato said. "But I don't want you on the streets alone tonight. If anything should happen, Caroline will be home early. Call her and have her come get you in a cab."
"Yes, o sensei," Veronica giggled. They got up and headed for the elevators, Croyd with one arm around each, Cordelia with the cake in her free hand.
Fortunato turned back to find Peregrine staring at him. She'd been trying to calm Jane down, getting drenched in the process. He saw her break off in the middle of a sentence. He started toward her, broken glass and china crunching under his shoes.
Everything had faded into shadow except for her. She was tall and powerful and flushed with excitement and Fortunato wanted her. Drained as he was, weak as he was, he could feel her heat all the way across the room. Hiram tried to say something to him and Fortunato got rid of him, not even conscious of the words he used.
He stopped in front of Peregrine. She was breathing heavily, like she'd been running. "The party's over," Fortunato said. "Yes. "
"Can we go somewhere?"
"Mv Rolls is waiting downstairs."
Fortunato nodded. They walked to the door, side by side, her hand just resting on his arm.
"Wait!" Hiram said to Fortunato, coughing. His eyes were still watering from the tear gas. Fortunato glanced at him for a second, his mouth tight, and swept past, with Peregrine on his arm. Hiram stood helplessly, looking at their backs as they went through the wide double doors.
They were by no means alone. A steady stream of people were headed for the elevators, many still coughing, stumbling, holding onto each other, eyes red and sore. Chrysalis was among them. She stopped to thank him. "I've had a few lively evenings at the Crystal Palace," she said dryly, "but nothing quite like this." Fantasy staggered past with a cut on one cheek and her gown in ruins, and paused long enough to threaten him with a lawsuit.