“But the blood and the scales…”
He turned his back on me. “I know you called Gil against my wishes.”
Something shook loose inside me. I couldn’t trust my emotions. I wasn’t sure what was real. But I knew I hurt. This hurt. If he’d have looked at me, I would have withered under his cold eyes. But he didn’t look at me. And that was worse.
I reached out, touching his elbow. “Nathanial?”
He knew me. Hell, sometimes I thought he knew me better than I knew myself. How could he not believe me?
He glanced at my hand on his arm, and then back at me.
He didn’t say anything, but his face, tight, drawn, it said he wanted to believe me. But those eyes. Those eyes that could be both hot and cold, that could look deeper than I wanted.
Those eyes looked old for once, worn from the four-hundred years they’d witnessed, and they’d seen lies, and deceptions, and betrayals. He might want to believe me, but he’d believe what he’d seen, or in this case, what he hadn’t seen—the memory of an attack.
A throat cleared outside the room. I jumped, my attention snapping to the door.
Elizabeth stood just outside the spray of shattered glass.
“Hermit, the Collector commands your presence.”
He nodded, and the guards stepped back, letting him pass.
He left without another glance at me.
And then I was alone.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I paced the narrow area in the bathroom as I waited for Gil. She appeared before the last syllable of her name crossed my lips for the third time.
“Stop doing that,” she hissed. “Call once. I’ll come if I can. Stop summoning me!”
I paused, one foot hanging in the air. Summoning? “You can’t not come?”
She didn’t answer. Instead she focused on smoothing the front of her coat. Then she looked around the small bathroom. “Very little time has passed in this world since I left.”
Not much time, but so much bullshit. I didn’t even know where to start. Not that I could explain with Jomar only a room away, listening.
I lowered my voice until I was afraid Gil wouldn’t be able to hear above the bathroom’s running water if I whispered any quieter. “I need to sneak into the skinwalker’s room.”
“Why would you need me for that? You’re the one who can pick locks.”
“Because I’m under guard inside this house. Can’t you just, I don’t know, ‘pop‘ into the room the same way you appear and disappear all the time?”
“I’ve never been to her room. In order to work, the spell needs a location I know.”
“You appeared in Tatius’s room. I’m sure you’d never been there before.”
Gil lifted one shoulder in a small shrug, but she looked down, not meeting my eyes. “I was able to do that because I put a location spell on you. It sort of… acts like an anchor when you’re in places I’ve never been.”
More spells being used on me? I forced a breath out between my teeth, making sure that when I spoke, my voice would be level. I wasn’t going to over-react about this, really, I wasn’t. That didn’t mean I wasn’t pissed.
“Okay, so you can’t magic your way into Akane’s room. There is a vamp named Jomar guarding the door. Is there anything in your magical arsenal that will get us past him?”
Gil tugged at her coat sleeves. “It’s harder to cast spells on supernaturals and…” She trailed off.
She’d actually told me that before. But… “There are apparently two types of vamps. Jomar is something called a soldier. No mental powers.”
Her eyes widened. “I’ve never read about different lines of vampires. Can you expand on—”
“Later, Gil,” I said between clenched teeth. “Do you know a spell that will work or not?”
“I’ve read about a spell that might work.”
Might was better than nothing. “Try it.” I had to get into Akane’s room. This went beyond proving Akane was behind the murders. She’d attacked me. And Nathanial doesn’t believe me.
Gil nodded. “I’ll have to prepare. Get this ‘Jomar’ inside. I’ll be right back.” She vanished.
Get him inside? I crept out of the bathroom. Jomar still stood in the hall with his back to the French doors, his hands clasped behind him. How do I talk him inside? It wasn’t like I could invite him in for tea and scones.
I felt a nearby tingle of magic, and Gil poked her head out of the bathroom. She gave me a thumbs up, then pointed at Jomar and motioned that I should get him into the bathroom.
Great. Not just inside, I had to get the nasty-tempered vamp to the tiny bathroom. How can I convince him—an idea hit me. I dashed across the room and flung open the door.
“There’s a spider.”
He gave me a dumbfounded look. “What?”
“A spider. On the ceiling. In the bathroom.” I pointed at the closed bathroom door.
“So?”
“So kill it!” I made my voice lift in tone, like I was close to hysteria, but I kept my volume low. I didn’t want anyone else coming to find out what was going on. “I have a major phobia about spiders.”
Jomar just stared at me. I shuffled my feet. This isn’t going to work. I shot a quick glance at the bathroom, trying to keep my body language frightened.
Jomar sneered, his lip curling back.
“Fine.” He grabbed my arm and marched across the room.
“After you,” he said, still holding onto me and indicating the bathroom door.
Please let Gil’s aim be good with this spell. She didn’t have the best reputation with magic. I jerked open the door and walked inside, Jomar following behind me.
He halted. “What the—?”
Magic cut through the air before the door had time to swing shut behind us. He hit the tiled floor with a thud, and Gil grinned so hard her face nearly split.
I glanced down at the vampire sprawled by our feet. He wasn’t breathing, but then, vampires didn’t need to.
“He’s still alive, right?”
“As much as he was before. I think.” She stepped around his limp body.
I squatted beside him, listening. It seemed a long time before I heard Jomar’s heart beat, but it sounded strong.
“How long will he be out?”
“Uh…” Gil’s smile faded. “I don’t actually know. The book wasn’t completely clear about that.” She sucked her bottom lip in her mouth and stared at the unconscious vampire. “We should probably hurry.”
I led the way out of the bedroom and down the hall. When we reached Akane’s door I stopped and listened. All was quiet. I didn’t knock, I just pushed open the door and ducked inside.
The room was dark. Empty. Thank the moon.
Gil followed, and I shut the door behind her. She blinked, her hand groping along the wall.
I grabbed her wrist. “No lights.”
“I can’t see.”
Right, I kept forgetting that just because I had nearperfect night vision, not everyone else did. “Use your magic globe thing.”
She glared at me—which she might not have realized I could see. A small purple ball of magic appeared over her palm. She held it up like a lantern and glanced around the room. “What are we looking for?”
“Clues?” I wasn’t sure. A blood trail leading out of the ductwork would be good. Or maybe Akane’s castoff skin, with a big fist-sized hole in it, ripped by my claws.
Gil headed for the closet as I made my way to a dresser.
The drawers were empty, which, considering Akane was part of the Collector’s traveling show and not a member of Aphrodite’s city, didn’t surprise me. A long case sat atop the dresser, and I dragged it off. Setting the case on the bed, I flipped open the lid.
“Did you find something?” Gil asked, popping her head out of the closet. As she moved, her bubble of light reentered the room, and a purple glow bathed the red-velvet lining of the box.
Nothing was inside.
I shook my head, then stopped. There was nothing in the box currently, but the impression in the lining looked a hell of a lot like a sword. If she used that sword to decapitate the victims… I leaned forward, all but pressing my nose into the velvet. The box smelled of the wood it was made from, a smoky fragrance like incense, and oil.
No hint of blood.
Frowning, I shut the box and returned it to the dresser.
There has to be something here.
Gil moved from the closet to the bathroom. Bottles clinked as she sifted through Akane’s toiletries. She gave no indication she was finding anything. If I were Akane, where would I hide something?
I looked around. There was nothing in the room. Just the dresser and the bed. I dropped to my knees and peered under the bed. A small suitcase was shoved underneath. I squirmed under the bed and dragged it out. Several ornate kimono wrapped in thin paper were inside. Nothing else.
Useless.
A footstep sounded outside the door. My head snapped up and I listened, hoping whoever it was continued down the hall. They didn’t.
Crap.
Gil stepped out of the bathroom just as the doorknob clicked, twisted. I frantically waved her back. She vanished her light and ducked back into the dark bathroom. I crouched beside the bed, watching the door from around the footboard.
Akane stepped into the room, but her hand paused by the light switch. She tilted her head back, her nostrils flaring.
“I smell you, beast,” she whispered. She flicked on the light, her dark gaze sweeping the room. “Where are you hiding?”
I held my breath, not moving, as Akane stalked forward. If I could have reached Gil she’d have gotten us both out, but Akane was between me and the bathroom door. She reached under her kimono and drew her sword.
I held my breath. I can’t just huddle here like a treed raccoon—she’ll find me the second she steps around the bed.
I stood, and the skinwalker stopped short. She lifted her sword and dropped into a defensive stance in one fluid movement. I edged around the bed, not moving forward so much as sideways. I was stronger than her, and probably faster, but she had a sword.