“Or she’s tracking the Son of Shadows and is too busy to get back to you.” Or she’s doing arcenciel stuff. My bet was door number two.
“I’ll be in touch, or one of my people will.” I ended the call without saying goodbye and ate two big spoonfuls of hard-to-chew oatmeal, thinking. The oats tasted strange in this form, and felt odd on my meat-tearing teeth; the sweet taste of sugar was barely there, but the milk was the elixir of the gods. I tilted my head to Eli. “You think I’m holding grudges?”
“Babe.” His tone was reproving.
“Janie, you are the Dark Queen of holding grudges,” Alex said.
“Grudges and hate make you weak,” Eli said.
“Is it justified?”
“Oh yeah. But remember that Ayatas is under orders and can’t help freely the way your clan members can. He’s constrained by the law, his vow of office, and his own honor. Your Cherokee family is an asset you aren’t using, out of pique, when they could probably be helpful. Keep all that in mind.” Eli, being all strategy on me, suggesting I use my by-blood family as a tool instead of treating them as people who had hurt me. That was an interesting way of viewing things. Cold and heartless, but interesting.
To Alex I said, “Update me on the liminal lines.”
He spun one of his tablets to me, and on it, a map of the world spread out, crisscrossed by lines in reds and blues and yellows. “There’s more than three. One liminal line runs from NOLA through Hot Springs, to New York State. Another runs from the Bahamas and through the mountains of NC.” He traced blue lines that moved in arcs like trade winds. “They cross ley lines all over the place.” The ley lines were red, and they could be straightor curled or could follow riverbeds or other geological features.
“How about interdimensional shift openings?”
“For starters, the Bermuda Triangle. Maybe here.” He pointed to a spot in the Atlantic Ocean. “And here”—he pointed to Greece—“is a maybe. Here in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains could be another. And here.” He shifted his finger to a place under the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. “It’s close to where you were rescued by the arcenciels not so long ago. I’m guessing they were keeping an eye on the spot where they used to travel back and forth.” His eyes were sunken and there were dark circles beneath them. “All the rift openings were lost in some tectonic shift.”
I wasn’t sure what any of that meant, but I knew Alex needed rest. The big bad uglies would be in Asheville at dusk. I patted him on the shoulder. “Get some sleep. That’s an order.”
It was noon and the house was full of a hundred children all running and screaming through the open space. That was the way it sounded anyway, as I climbed the stairs and fell into bed. I was about to find out what would happen if I went to sleep in half-form. I closed my eyes and fell into slumber.
***
I woke to the feel of my whiskers being pulled. “Ow. That hurts!” I said, grabbing the little hand.
“Dis isna a How’oween costume,” EJ said. “You tolded me a lie.”
“How did he get in here?” Bruiser asked from my other side.
“He’s got magic,” I said.
“Not good magic. Waymon dead. I hadda stick him in the ground. It made me cwy.”
I checked to make sure all the private parts were covered or pelted and sat up. “Who’s Waymon?”
“Him my tu-tle. Mama said you sick like Waymon. Are you gonna die? Can we bury you in the backyard with Waymon?”
“Um, no. I do not intend to die and you may not bury me.”
EJ pouted for all of five seconds. “You wanna see my maaarbal?” He pulled a marble out of his pocket. It was a large white one with a blue cat’s-eye swirl in the middle. I was groggy with sleep but something about it hinted that I shouldn’t touch the marble. In Beast-vision it was magicked, a small golden sparkle of power against the little boy’s hand. It was a version of ano-see-umsworking. Maybe ano-touch-umsworking. And beneath that was atracking deviceworking. It was a multilayered charm and it glowed with power.
“Mama says I gotta keep it in my pawket all the time.” He put it back in his pocket and patted his jeans. “My sissy gots one too, but hers is purple.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Don’ die tonight, Ant Jane.” He slid off the bed and out the door, his little feet stomping down the hallway.
Bruiser reached out an arm and encircled my waist, pulling me close to him, my butt against his middle. He nuzzled my neck. And started snoring. It made me smile and I closed my eyes as sleep pulled me back under.
***
I woke screaming. Fighting. Pain like my flesh being flayed from my back.
“Jane! Jane, it’s a dream! Jane, stop fighting!” Bruiser’s voice, afraid. The smell of his blood on the air.
I went still, chest heaving, unballed my fists. Tried to slow my breathing. Couldn’t. “Edmund. They’re skinning him alive.”
From the doorway, Eli said gently, “We’re here, Janie. We’ll handle it.” A weapon made clicking noises as he safetied it.
