Magick Rising (38 page)

Worth turned in his seat. “Geez, you change your vocal chords, too? Or

are you a good mimic?”

Jon shrugged. “A little of both, I guess.”

“Whatever.” The man glanced at his watch. “It’s go time.”

After exiting the car, Worth headed around to the front of the building

while Jon stayed in the shadows near the club’s back door. After Worth

disappeared, Serenity rolled down the car window and whispered, “Be

careful.”

Two simple words filled Jon with almost the same sense of connection

as their touch had generated moments earlier.

“I will,” he responded.

He waited for the full five minutes before entering the club’s backdoor,

a different exit than his earlier escape route. A huge man with an equally

huge scar between his eyes stood at the end of the hallway.

Jon nodded as he passed by. “Stan.” He continued without stopping.

“Sir.”

So far so good.

He had the stairs to himself until he reached the second floor landing.

As he grasped the doorknob, it pulled out of his hand. A young woman

dressed in practically nothing stumbled toward him, and he instinctively

steadied her as she tried to regain her balance on impossibly high heels. She

seemed shocked by his action, as if such kindness never came without a

price. He didn’t know whether he should try to cop a feel or something else

to keep up the pretense.

“Uh thanks, Mr. W-Worth,” she stuttered.

“Sure.” It seemed the least innocuous answer.

She paused and stared at him. For one long and uncomfortable

moment, he was afraid she was going to blow his cover. After all, she was

probably a shapeshifter herself, and she was probably much more skilled at

recognizing her own kind then he was.

She looked him dead in the eye, then her look of fear faded slightly.

“Good luck,” she whispered, and then she escaped.

Somehow he knew she wasn’t wishing David Worth anything at all.

He drew a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped into the hallway.

This time, the guard didn’t sit idly at a desk, playing solitaire and waving

through any familiar faces. Sharp-eyed and ferret-faced, this one looked far

more dangerous than Stan, the Incredible Bulk. Between the look of

intelligence in his narrow eyes and the sneer on his face, Jon knew he was

facing a delicate, dangerous moment.

“You’re early,” Winston spat out.

Jon ignored him and proceeded toward the inner door.

Winston slid in front of the door. “I have a question.”

Jon gave him his deadest stare. “I don’t have time.”

The ferret-look sharpened even more. “You better make time.”

Jon took a step closer to the man. “And you better get out of my way.

The boss wants to know who’s been messing with the kegs. You don’t want

me to go into great detail, do you?”

A look of fear flickered in those sharp eyes, dulling them slightly. “Uh,

no. Sir.” He added, stepping aside.

Jon waited until the door closed behind him before releasing the breath

he’d held. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the third floor in mere

seconds. But when he stepped into the hallway, he wasn’t prepared for the

fist that shot out and clipped him on the chin

“You bastard,” his attacker bellowed. “Why did you kill her?”

THE BLOW FORCED Jon down to one knee, so he took advantage of his

position to drive a punch up and into the man’s stomach. His attacker

doubled over, lost his balance, and crashed into the wall.

“Kill who?” Jon demanded, hoping he already knew the answer, that

there hadn’t been a second death.

“That Laila bitch,” the man said, coughing in pain. After catching his

breath, he continued. “We can’t afford to lose any of the girls, no matter

how much trouble they are. They’re part of the sales package. Now we’re

short one.”

“I didn’t kill her. She was an investment, and you don’t compromise

investments.”

The man straightened into a sitting position then gave Jon a critical

once-over that almost made him doubt his talents. After a moment, the man

sighed. “If you didn’t do it, who did?”

Jon decided the truth would suffice. “Her psycho ex-boyfriend. He saw

me talking to her and went ballistic on us both.”

The man eyed Jon critically. “You don’t look like anyone touched you.”

Jon rubbed the sore spot on his chin. “I heal fast.” He narrowed his

gaze. “Lucky for you.”

The man stiffened, something dead cooling the heat of anger in his

eyes. “You mean lucky for you. Last time an employee touched me, we

buried him in the Nevada desert in six different places.”

As the man struggled to his feet, Jon realized this unexpected

complication gave orders like the top guy. It had to be Coleman who was

supposed to be out of town. Jon held out a hand and helped the man up.

Coleman rose to his full height, brushing imaginary dirt from his pants

leg. “I want you to find the psycho boyfriend and make him an object

lesson. Make all the other psycho boyfriends out there understand what

happens if anybody else touches one of our girls.”

Jon tightened his hands into fists. “Yes sir.”

The man turned toward the stairs then stopped and pivoted back to

face Jon. “And one more thing—”

This time, Jon expected the punch. He deflected the man’s arm, using

Coleman’s own momentum to turn him around, pulling his arm up at an

awkward angle.

The man spit out a stream of obscenities, struggling to get free. The

basic message was that he was going to make sure that David Worth would

require burial in far more than six desert locations.

“You know you’re dead, don’t you? You’ll never get out of this

building alive.”

For a moment, Jon wasn’t sure if Coleman was still talking to David

Worth or if knew Jon was an impersonator.

“Nobody double-crosses me and lives. I know you’ve been working

with Tanaka’s syndicate. If you think you’re going to deliver the girls and the

drugs to him, you’re crazy.”

There it was. The proof that Worth had been playing them. He never

intended to free the girls; he wanted the formula so that he could continue

their servitude without interruption as he changed allegiance. Good thing

they hadn’t believed his “changed man” routine.

At the sounds of approaching footfalls, Coleman drew in a sharp intake

of breath, presumably to yell for aid, but Jon spun the man around and

drove a fist into his face. Coleman’s head snapped back, striking the wall.

He fell into a boneless heap.

Jon only had moments to react. He opened the nearest door, revealing a

small bathroom where he dragged the man’s body. Seconds later, he heard a

voice in the hallway.

“Mr. Coleman?”

Jon rolled Coleman over and found his wallet. The driver’s license

revealed that the attacker was indeed Joseph Coleman. Age 42.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. “You in there, sir?”

Jon coughed a “Yes?”

“You won’t believe it, boss. Worth just strolled in here. You want I

should have the guys bring him to your office or you want them to go ahead

take care of him?”

There was only one answer.

“My office. I’ll take care of him, myself.”

“Yes sir. Be right back.”

Jon only had a minute at the most. Not only did he have to stop looking

like Worth, but replace Coleman as the boss. His skills might be better than

the average shapeshifter, but he couldn’t make a change that fast.

Not without help.

Jon reached into his pocket and pulled out the Glue. As much as he

hated to take it, there would be no way to pull off the impersonation with it.

Only a few seconds after the pill dissolved in his mouth, he could feel

change, the chemicals flooding into his system. His senses sharpened. He

felt stronger, smarter. He glanced at the unconscious man lying on the

bathroom floor and felt the muscles in his face respond, tingling in

anticipation of the change.

Reaching down, Jon touched the man’s forehead.

The change slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. He slid down

the wall of the stall. Black spots filled his vision, and a pounding sound

ricocheted through his head. After two abortive tries, Jon managed to pull

himself upright. In the warped lavatory mirror, he watched himself change.

But instead of pain, he experienced an intoxicatingly pleasant sensation as

his muscles roiled, liquefied, and then reformed. A few seconds later, he

looked up and saw the face of Joseph Coleman staring back at him.

Showtime
.

SERENITY SAT IN the car, watching as nothing in particular happened.

No one skulked through the alley. No one knocked on the window to ask

why she was waiting there.

The suspense was killing her.

When the alley door finally opened, someone ran outside, followed

closely by two other men. It wasn’t until he stumbled and fell into the ring of

light from the street lamp that he looked up toward the car.

It was David.

Or Jon?
Whichever one, he was in danger.

Three goons circled him. The tallest delivered a kick to David/Jon’s

head, and Serenity flinched with sympathy. But after watching a second then

third blow, she couldn’t take it any longer. She jumped out of the car and ran

toward the trio of goons with no weapon, no plan of attack—just an

overwhelming desire to stop the assault.

When she hit the first assailant, it was like running into a brick wall. She

bounced off him without dislodging, much less disturbing him. Falling

backwards, she sprawled on the cracked concrete and watched David/Jon

receive another brutal blow.

He stopped moving.

“Leave him alone!” she screamed, scrabbling toward him. “I called the

police,” she lied. “They’ll be here any moment.” She launched herself

between the predators and their prey, and to her relief, the goons halted

their attack.

“Move it, lady. This is none of your concern.”

“You’ll kill him.”

“So?”

She shifted her gaze from one attacker to the next, praying that third

one wasn’t going to take advantage of her diverted attention. She caught

some motion out of the corner of her eye and whirled around, literally

throwing herself across the inert form in hopes of protecting him.

But as soon as she touched his bleeding face, she knew exactly who the

victim was. There were no sensations; no rush of emotion, no indescribable

sense of connection.

Not Jon.

David
.

She recoiled from him, and the attacker used the opportunity to aim a

kick at David’s midsection. She thought she heard bone snap.

“Stop!” Her voice blended with that of another. However, where hers

was a panicked plea, the other was an undeniable command.

She looked up to see a behemoth of a man standing in the back

doorway.

“Boss said not to hurt him,” he rumbled.

The man who had delivered the last blow shrugged. “Since when?”

“Since now. Coleman wants Worth. Alive. I’m supposed to take him

upstairs to the office.” He stared at Serenity with piggish eyes. “Who’s the

broad?”

“No idea. Maybe his girlfriend.”

“Bring her. I’ll get Worth.”

The gigantic man moved with an unusual amount of grace, stooping to

use one massive arm to lift David’s limp body and toss it over one shoulder.

The man stared at Serenity with eyes that lacked animation, much less

intelligence. “On second thought, I’ll bring her, myself.”

He snagged her arm, forcing her to scramble to her feet or risk being

dragged like a ragdoll. She took two steps to his one in order to keep up.

Once inside, he continued up two more flights of stairs that emptied into a

long hallway.

The behemoth eventually dragged her into a room and pushed her so

that she sprawled across a chair. Then he deposited David’s limp body on

the floor and shifted to a spot near the door.

A quiet voice spoke. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”

Serenity looked up and spotted a man sitting behind the large desk. She

struggled to right herself.

The giant guard shifted in discomfort. “N-no sir, Mr. Coleman. The

others. They was hitting him, but I stopped ‘em. Honest.”

The man named Coleman stood and walked around the desk, stopping

at David’s feet. He squatted for a moment as if to study her ex-husband’s

face.

“You’re his ex, correct?” Coleman turned to Serenity.

She swallowed hard. How did he know anything about her? She tried to

back toward the door but hit a solid wall of flesh behind her: the behemoth.

She jerked away.

Coleman circled David’s limp body but kept his attention on her.

“Don’t worry. I already know what happened. He—shall we say—changed

into a very bad man, and you dumped him.” He glanced down at David.

“So, what should we do with this very bad man? Punish him? Make him