Dreamer (6 page)

“Devon!” a woman said in a shocked voice. “What in the world
are you doing?”

He dropped Shan so fast she stumbled back and caught herself
on the edge of the table. The wads of fabric she’d clutched in her fists
bunched on his chest, and she turned to see who had made the Temple Guard
holding her drop her like a hot potato.

The elegant woman who had sold her coffee strode down the
aisle toward them with the two guards in her wake. The front of her green
jacket flapped open, revealing a white robe and elaborate girdle made of
polished stones. Whoever she was, she was obviously a high-ranking priestess of
some type.

“Devon King, why are you harassing this young woman?”

“She doesn't have a permit.” The man who had to be Devon
shot her a glance, and his strong jaw clenched.

“I do have one,” she said with a huff. “I can't find it.”

“Sure you do—”

The woman stopped before the asshole Temple Guard, and he
glared again at Shan. Looking between Devon and the priestess, it was obvious
they were related. Both had a bold curved nose and full lips, but his skin was
a few shades lighter than the woman's deep tan, more of a bronze. A gorgeous
color that would look great against her white sheets.

Realizing they were both watching her as she stared at
Devon, she flushed. “I do have one,” she said again, realizing how lame the
defense sounded but unable to form a coherent thought with Devon staring at
her.

“I believe you,” the woman said with a small smile.

“But—” his hands curled into fists as a small female guard
strolled up behind him, fighting a grin. It was the same brown-haired and
silver-eyed guard Shan had seen earlier on the street. He turned his glare onto
the female guard, and the short woman suddenly found the sky very interesting,
whistling and giving a look of such false innocence that Shan had to resist the
urge to laugh at the way Devon was glaring at both of them.

“Enjoy your time at the bazaar,” the priestess said and
placed a gentle hand on Devon's arm.

“Mother, I—”

He stopped and sniffed the air. The two women with him did
the same. Curious, Shan followed suit and coughed. “What is that awful smell?”
She spat and tried to clear the stench of rotten fish and decay from her nose
and mouth.

They gave her an astonished look a moment before all hell
broke loose.

Screams came from the entrance of the bazaar, and Shan had a
horrible flashback of last night.

“Everyone into the temples,” Devon yelled in an impossibly
loud voice and sprinted toward the entrance with the small silver-eyed woman at
his heels.

Panic shot through the crowd, and Shan gagged as another
wave of the horrible smell assaulted her nose. The rug seller and toy maker
quickly abandoned their stalls and sprinted toward the entrance of a brown
sandstone temple entrance a few rows over. Cries and shouts filled the air as
she grabbed her backpack and shoved the jewelry that had spilled out while she
searched for her permit back into it as fast as she could. She didn't give a
crap about the fake stuff on the table, but the items in the baggies had taken
her months to make.

A random foot slammed on her hand, and she screamed as a guy
in a red shirt glanced back but kept on running. Tears sprang to her eyes as she
examined her hand and tried to close her fist. The fingers still responded, but
her pinky was already starting to swell and an imprint of the tread from his
shoe stood out in angry white lines against the red of her skin.

She had to duck as another man plowed through the stand
behind hers and knocked a row of earthenware jars to the ground where they
shattered. His eyes rolled with fright, and a spray of blood dripped from the
back of his brown leather jacket from what looked like a deep wound on his head.
One of those drops hit her cheek, and she wiped it away with disgust.

In the time it had taken her to gather her things with her
one good hand, the bazaar had been transformed from a festive market into a
ghost town of broken stalls and scattered merchandise. Shouldering her
backpack, she crept into her neighbor’s stall and hid behind a stack of rugs.
One thing her nightmares had taught her was to hide and survey the situation
before stepping out into the open where the bad things could see you. And right
now, the world resembled her nightmares more than reality.

In the distance, shouts and screams combined with a
high-pitched whistle that set her teeth on edge.

Pounding feet surged past her as a group of guards ran
toward the front entrance. Dressed in battle gear, their curved swords gleamed
in the sunlight as they raced past. No one spared her a glance and she tried to
gather her courage to move from the behind the rugs.

War cries split the air, and a wave of the stench washed
over her. Darting her head up from behind the stacks, she bit on her uninjured
hand to keep from screaming. Her mind tried to make sense of what she was
seeing, but nothing quite fit. It looked like a greenish elephant with a thick,
scaly hide, but instead of a trunk, it had a long and barbed tentacle that
lashed at the group of guards that had just run past her.

One guard's body was stuck on the barbed end of the
tentacle, and he screamed as he tried to pry himself off.

Shan stumbled out from her hiding place and fell to her
knees in the middle of the deserted aisle as she tripped over the edge of a
rolled-up carpet. The demon snapped its tentacle like a whip, and the body of
the man sailed through the air and landed out of sight with a sickening thud.
The other guards managed to wound it, striking with their swords against its
belly that bled black. Kicking out, the creature caught a woman in the side
with its rear foot and flung her into a stand of scarves and bells right in
front of Shan. She was close enough to see the terror and despair in the
woman's soft brown eyes as their gazes met.

Trumpeting into the air, the demon started to move forward
toward Shan and the female guard.

The sight of the beast laboring toward her should have
petrified her, but after a lifetime of nightmares, her mind switched over to
survival mode. The woman who was thrown into the scarves tried to pull herself
in front of Shan. The white of broken bone shone through the leg of her pants,
but she continued to struggle to put herself between the monster and Shan.

With only two guards left standing, the creature ignored
them and turned toward the wounded woman. Not thinking, Shan ran to her and
hooked her hands beneath the woman's armpits, choking back on a scream as her
injured hand throbbed. Desperation filled Shan as she glanced up, trying to
find the closest temple. Adrenaline and power surged through her, giving her
the strength to drag the woman in a desperate scrabble.

The creature screamed in outrage and kicked another one of
the men away. The sound of his head hitting stone with a ripe splat made bile
rise in Shan's throat. She didn't have to look to know that he was dead.

“Run,” the woman choked out, trying to push Shan away.

“No.” Shan hunched over, pulling the woman along. A few
steps farther and they would be in sight of the stairs. She didn't want to yell
for help and attract the demon’s attention any more than she already had.

The woman groaned as she used her good leg to try and help
Shan drag her. Glancing up, Shan watched in horror as the creature faced off
with the final guard. He flung his sword to the ground and began a chant that
rolled through her bones like thunder. Shan froze, magic moving through the air
in a burning rush, the feeling of electricity stinging over her skin like a
thousand biting ants.

“Hurry!” the woman screamed. “David's going to sacrifice
himself.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Shan said in a high and thin
voice. Her back screamed in protest as they turned the corner. Her last sight
of the man brought out her breath in a rush. His dark brown hair blew in the
breeze that surrounded him and the creature. Bits of debris from the destroyed
stands swirled around them in an increasingly tight circle. The creature
shrieked as a piece of timber embedded itself into its thick hide.

The wind reached out to where they were, and a soft gust
tugged at her shirt. Pulling harder, Shan tried to use her feet to push herself
up the steps. Hands grabbed her, but she was unable to hear what they said
above the scream of the wind, as loud as the roar of a jet engine. A woman
dressed in a velour magenta jogging suit and an older man in a robe and tunic
grabbed the guard and pulled her up the steps.

Shan was dragged backward and went limp in their hands at
the sight before her. A small tornado of shimmering white light now spun where
her jewelry stand had been. At the center, a small blue glow burned bright
enough to make her see spots.

“What is it?” she yelled over the roar. No wind reached the
steps where they were, and the woman in the jogging suit helped Shan to her
feet.

“Holy fire,” the woman yelled into her ear over the howl of
the wind.

They reached the top of the steps, and Shan stumbled over to
a column and slung off her backpack while she struggled to regain her breath.
She found herself standing next to the small woman who had been with Devon.
They exchanged a quick glance then turned back to where the demon was barely
visible beyond the vortex of light.

Tighter and tighter the spiral spun, shrinking down to the
center of the blinding glow. As it shrank, it pulled the demon with it,
compressing the creature in a manner her mind found hard to comprehend.
Terrible pressure built in the air, and everyone grabbed his or her heads. It
hurt too much to do anything but moan, and Shan thought her eardrums were going
to burst.

With a loud bang of air rushing into empty space, the
pressure and pain stopped. Panting, wiping the sweat from her eyes with her
wounded hand, Shan stared at the now empty square.

Where her stand used to be was now a perfectly cleared
circle, as if someone had taken a giant cookie cutter and stamped out that
section of the Temple Square, leaving behind a circle of dirt where there had
once been paving stones. The demon and the man were gone.

Pulling the Corvette into an empty spot at the rear of a
grocery store parking lot, Shan leaned her head against the wheel and wept. The
shock that had kept her somewhat functioning was receding, and her teeth
chattered as she shivered. The smell of blood from the female Temple Guard
she’d helped was still on her hands despite scrubbing them down with
antibacterial hand wash. Behind her closed lids, the terror and chaos of the
aftermath of the attack ran on a never-ending loop.

She had slipped out of the Temple District in the confusion
that followed the assault and made it out before the street was shut down. The
shakes had started before she’d driven more than a few blocks, and she’d pulled
off into the parking lot before she got into an accident. Another violent chill
ripped through her, and her head ached.

Grabbing a handful of napkins out of the glovebox, she blew
her nose and tried to wipe her face clean as her sobs tapered down to hiccups.
The sight of her reflection in the vanity mirror acted like a cold splash of
water. All of her makeup streaked down her face in blue and black smears, and
her eyes were red and glassy. Her bruised hand began to throb again as she
scrubbed the makeup off, leaving her face bare and raw-looking. She needed some
ice for her hand, and some aspirin, and a bottle of vodka.

As she stared at her fingers, noting the dried blood still
clinging to her cuticle beds, her mind just kind of drifted, unable to deal
with the horrible events of both last night and now at the bazaar. She had no
idea how long she’d been sitting there before she registered the vibrations of
her cell phone in her pocket as anything more than a background annoyance.
Seeing her father’s name she answered it. “I'm okay.”

“Shan, where are you?” Aaron's voice was shrill with panic.

“I'm in the parking lot of the Lucky Clucky grocery store on
Jefferson Ave.” She leaned her head back against the leather seat and closed
her eyes. The cars smelled like her dad's woodsy cologne, and she inhaled the
comforting scent. “Your Corvette is okay.”

“I don't give a rat's ass about the car! Are you okay? We’ve
been calling you but you haven’t been answering.” Royce's voice rumbled low and
deep in the background. “Were you at the bazaar when the attack happened? It's
all over the news. We're trying to get there now, but they have all the roads
blocked off, and traffic is at a standstill. I'll get out and walk if I need
to.”

Shan squinted at the dash and was astonished to see that she
had been sitting in the parking lot for over an hour. “Sorry I didn't call you
right away. I wasn't thinking straight.”

“It's okay, honey. Thank the goddess you're all right.” A
horn beeped long and harsh in the background.

“Are you talking while you drive?”

Aaron's laugh was brittle but held an edge of relief. “No,
Royce is driving. We've had enough of your lectures about phone safety to know
better.” His voice hitched as he said, “What happened?”

Eyes still closed, she turned her face to the sunshine
coming through the windshield and enjoyed its warmth on her skin. “I don't
know.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone before Aaron
said in a careful voice, “Shan, are you sure you're okay?”

Realizing her lack of response was worrying her dad, she
made an effort to concentrate on their conversation. “Really, Dad, I don't know
what happened. One minute I was getting harassed by a captain of the Temple
Guard for losing my permit, and the next thing I know the world smells like
shit and some crazy green elephant thing is eating people.” Her breath
shuddered out of her. “I saw it kill three, or was it four, people. And I saw a
guard sacrifice himself to defeat it.”

“Oh, honey,” Royce said in the background again. “We're
almost to you. Stay put.”

“Dad, what happened? You probably know more than I do.”

Aaron hesitated, and she heard the wail of a siren. “Someone
summoned two Nosts at the entrance of the bazaar. The surveillance tape shows a
figure in a cloak doing the summoning, but they used some type of shield to
blur their image.”

“What's a Nost? And why would they attack the bazaar? And
how is that even possible? I thought that place was impenetrable. I thought I
was safe.” The last words came out in a broken whisper as she swallowed hard.

“You should have been safe, an attack of this magnitude in
the heart of the Egyptian Temple District is unheard of.”

“Yeah, well not anymore. What were those things?”

“Um…well…”

Royce barked out something that sounded like
tell her.

“A Nost is a minor demon from one of the African pantheons.
Anyone can summon one with the right spells and power.”

“But how did they get it past the wards that guard the
entrance to the square?”

He replied in an ominous tone, “Bad, bad magic, sweetheart.
You don’t want to know.”

“Okay, then why was it at the bazaar?” Her hand throbbed,
and she turned it in the sunlight, wincing at the puffing bruise forming.

She heard her dad take a deep breath before he said, “Nosts
are stalker demons. They are summoned with the intent to hunt down and kill
their intended prey. It was there looking for someone.”

Sitting up higher in the bucket seat, she watched an old
lady put groceries in her trunk. “Like last night?”

“Yes.”

The implication of his words sank into her. “Are they after
me?”

“No!” Aaron shouted and then said in a lower voice, “No.
Remember, last night there were three attacks at different locations. And there
were at least five thousand people at the bazaar. You had the bad luck of being
at both places.”

Royce's white Land Rover came barreling across the parking
lot, and she ended the call. Despite the protest in Aaron's voice, she had a
feeling there was something important he wasn't telling her. She opened the
door to the Corvette and launched herself into her parents’ arms, renewed tears
rolling down her cheeks as they held her tight and said all the meaningless
things people say to those they love to try and make them feel better.

****

The next day, Shan tapped the steering wheel of her mint
green VW bug as she waited for the light to change. A healer from her father’s
Temple had taken care of her hand and it was almost as good as new, but still
bruised. That and her sore muscles from hauling the Temple Guard were the only
physical remains of yesterday. Before she could dwell on what she’d seen, she
returned her focus to the road. A crystal star hanging from her rearview mirror
threw refracted rainbows over the dashboard as she took a left, slowing down to
avoid hitting a man in a business suit crossing the road in front of her
against the light. On the corner a man selling statues to ward off evil looked
to be doing a brisk business with locals and tourists alike.

The media had converged on D.C., and it seemed as though
everywhere she looked someone was trying to stoke the general population’s fear
into a frenzy. Yesterday someone had tried to sell her a bottle of holy water
for eighty bucks, claiming that if you threw it at a demon they would
disappear. After seeing two demons up close and personal, she couldn’t imagine
the overpriced tap water doing anything more than pissing them off.

What annoyed her the most was the arrival of the crusaders,
men and women from all over the world who hated anything that had to do with
gods and magic and wanted to return the world to its pre-Religious Revolution
state. They were actually picketing the funerals of the victims of the attack,
doing champagne toasts, and giving speeches about the Lord rejoicing in their
deaths over loud speakers. The obvious fact that they were celebrating a
demonic attack was lost on them.

Easing past the stopped traffic, she pulled into the nearly
full lot of her client's novelty store. Squeezing her small car between two
behemoth SUVs, she listened to a couple argue about what they wanted to be for
Halloween through the open window of her car. End of the world or not, people
still wanted to look their best for the massive Halloween parties planned all
over D.C. next week.

For a moment a mental image of the wraiths or a Nost being
set loose at a children’s Halloween party tried to form in her mind, but she
shook it off. No, she had to focus on the present, on her client, on being
alive and healthy and safe. She took a moment to smooth the white zoot suit
jacket over her royal blue latex skirt and white fishnet leggings. She had
carefully styled her hair into pin curls, held in place with silver rose bobby
pins. Jack, her client, didn't really care what she wore, but the little girl
comments of that arrogant guard kept coming back into her mind. Not to mention
the feel of his solid chest beneath her hands, and the way his eyes had
darkened with hunger. As riled up as the memory made her, she still would
rather think about Devon than the horrors she had so recently witnessed.

Sighing softly, she pulled out her briefcase and clicked the
alarm on the bug. Figures she would be attracted to such an asshole. It fit
right in with her libido's terrible taste in men. She spent the rest of the
walk to the entrance of the store trying to argue with her body about what was
considered an acceptable man to want.

The novelty store sat between an ice cream parlor and a
florist shop, perfuming the air with sugar and flowers. The sign above the
store consisted of a giant red whoopee cushion, and Jack, the owner, was in a
constant battle with the city over the acceptability of the sign. Some called
it art, some called it an abomination, and Jack called it a middle finger to
those without a sense of humor.

Pain lanced through her fingers as she forgot about her
injury and opened the door with her banged-up hand. She braced herself against
the blast of noise that filled the large store in a roar of joy. Buzzers,
bells, whistles, and beeps were drowned out beneath the laughter that rang out
from the crowd. Gag gifts, practical jokes, and novelties of every description
filled the space in a merry riot of color. The back portion of the vast room
had been turned into a costume shop for the season, and she made a mental note
to pick out something snazzy before she left.

Leaning against the glass counter containing her mood rings,
she waved to Jack. Handsome in a very blond, tanned surfer way, he was good
looking enough that women tended to sigh and flutter when he spoke with them.
He had his hands full at the moment trying to help a dozen different people
with their costumes. His gorgeous, curly-blonde-haired girlfriend, Chrissy, was
holding up two different gorilla costumes for an indecisive young couple.

Shan giggled as Jack put on a pair of iridescent fairy wings
to show a little girl how they worked. Flashing his charming smile, he took the
wings off and put them on the little girl who beamed up at him. While he wasn't
Shan’s type, and was obviously off the market and in love with his lady, she
still admired the way he filled out his collection of Hawaiian shirts.

Shan placed her briefcase on the counter and dug through the
basket of free candy next to the register, looking for the kind that wouldn't
taste like garlic or turn her teeth green.

“Try the pink one,” a warm male voice said from next to her.

Startled, Shan spilled the candy basket in a rainbow crinkle
of cellophane wrappers. “Shit,” she muttered and bent down to pick them up.

The man who had startled her chuckled, and she couldn't help
but giggle back. His laughter was filled with joy and happiness. It was one of
the most wonderful sounds she had ever heard.

Glancing up, she grinned at the unexpected sight. He was
short, around her height, with a bright red mohawk that stuck up from his head
like the comb of a rooster. Dressed in an odd combination of tie-dyed
camouflage, he slid a pair of dark-green-tinted granny glasses up his nose then
crossed his skinny arms over his chest.

“Care to give me a hand?” she asked as he watched her.

His thin lips twisted into an expressive grin. “Sure. I
didn't mean to startle you.” She arched an eyebrow at him and tossed a handful
of candy back into the bowl. “Well, maybe I did, a little bit. You have to
admit, that startled jump you gave was pretty funny, but I didn’t meant to
frighten you.”

Checking the floor to make sure she’d gotten the last of it,
she began scooping the pieces off the counter. “It's okay. I was digging for an
actual piece of candy that wouldn’t taste like ear wax or kitty litter.”

He snorted and opened a wrapper, popping a yellow candy into
his mouth. “What fun is that?” he asked and then gave her a black-toothed grin.

Laughing, Shan selected a pink candy like he’d suggested.
“You know what, you’re right.” Hesitating, she ate the pink candy and held her
breath. Her shoulders relaxed as a delightful apple taste burst over her
tongue. “Yum.”

“See!” He gave her a triumphant black grin. “You never know
what will happen unless you give it a try.”

Jack slipped off the wings at the back of the store and
started toward her with a very worried look, but a display of blow-up dolls
fell off the wall and buried him in plastic breasts and O faces.