PHENOMENAL GIRL 5 (23 page)

“Doubtful, since so far the ones we’ve fought have ended up dead.”

“True. But we may see more villains with the marking. We may be in the room with the Dragon himself. The point is, we can’t make a move against them while we are at Fan-tazia’s, but neither can they.”

“Spell?”

“No, Fantazia will kill anyone who fights in her place. We were invited, so we’re under her protection. That’s how she works. But if you see anyone with a dragon marking, try to memorize their faces and names.”

“Got it.” I looked back toward the alley. “So we go inside?”

He looked at me as if I was crazy. “No, that’s a biker bar. We’re going to somewhere a bit off the beaten path—a pocket universe.”

“Fantazia created her own universe?”

“No, but she was the first one to travel there, so she claimed it. She’s such a spoiled brat; what she wants, she gets. She’s lived there for centuries, and brought it closer to this world so other magic-users can access it—I think to have company, mostly.” He moved to the end of the alley and I saw a door appear out of nowhere. It was almost transparent; through it I could see the graffiti on the brick wall behind. A faint glow surrounded it.

“Stay close to me,” Wesley said, and stepped inside.

I don’t know what I expected a pocket universe to look like, but the expensive cathouse décor that greeted me—BDSM leather in particular—wasn’t it.

The walls and floors were layered with thick red velvet. The furniture was all black leather, uncomfortable artsy-looking pieces surrounding small tables. In the muted candlelight, the people sitting around were hard to identify, which was probably the point. Emaciated-looking wait-staff floated between the tables, bringing refreshments and what looked like spell ingredients.

The patrons all stopped talking and looked up when we walked in. I tried to adopt a cool look of indifference like Wesley had, and scanned the bar for any familiar faces.

There were none. One by one, they all went back to conversation, though I thought I heard “Reincarnist,” here and there.

“What are we supposed to do?” I whispered to Wesley.

“Remain calm. Get a drink and sit down. She’ll send for us when she’s ready.”

I perched in one of the sadistic chairs and tried to act natural. A man with pointed facial hair sat with a bored-looking woman at the next table over, transforming something into a frog, a book, a kitten, an ice cube, and a baby dragon all in the blink of an eye. At the opposite table, a rumpled-looking man in a trench coat smoked a cigarette and argued with something that looked like it had walked off a sea monster horror movie set.

Wesley reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Try not to stare.” And once again, he didn’t let go.

The man in the trench coat looked over at me and winked. I turned my attention back to my own table, where one of the wraithlike waitresses was setting goblets of red wine in front of us.

“ ’Lo, Old One,” my friend from the next table over said, giving Wesley a nod. “Almost didn’t recognize you. Haven’t seen you round here lately.”

“I’ve been concerned with other matters.”

My friend blew out smoke. “I heard. Figured you’re here to pick the old lady’s brain for info.” He smiled at me. “This your bird?”

“She’s new to the magic-side.” Wesley sidestepped the question. “Thought I’d show her the scenery.”

“It’s definitely improved.” He eyed me like a hungry man eyes a steak. “You get tired of him, you’re welcome to be my guest anytime.”

A woman with milky white, almost translucent, skin glided up to our table. “Fantazia will see you now.”

Wesley nodded and stood. “We’re off.” He took my arm in his, almost in a possessive manner.

“Cheers, mate.” The man in the trench coat took another drag of his cigarette and started arguing with the squid creature again.

“Who was that?” I asked as soon as we were out of range.

“I’ve absolutely no idea. Someone I knew once.”

“Good guy or bad guy?”

“In-between, I think.” Wesley paused and looked back. “I think I lost one of my cars to him!”

“But he’s not who we’re looking for?”

“I don’t think he’s the type to do an apocalypse spell. Trick people out of cars, yes. Destroy the world, no.”

As we followed the woman toward the back of the room, passing all the tables, I got a tingly feeling, as if someone was watching me. I stopped and gave a quick glance over my shoulder, but no one was looking in my direction.

“Something wrong?” Wesley asked.

I shivered. “No. Just got a feeling, that’s all. Like someone was watching me.”

Wesley gave the room a quick critical glance. “It’s probably just the costume. But keep on guard, just in case.” The corners of his mouth quirked up in the barest of smiles.

“You know, you keep mentioning the outfit, but I’m still covered up more than most of our kind.”

“It’s still eye-catching.”

“I’ll take that as compliment.”

“It was meant to be one.”

I didn’t have to come up with a reply as our guide threw back a heavy velvet curtain and we were ushered into a smaller VIP-type room, this time in opposite-colored decor—black velvet wall and floor coverings and two bright red leather couches. Instead of candles, a bright spotlight shone down, illuminating the area surrounding the seating and casting the rest of the room into darkness.

Fantazia might have been old, but she didn’t look it. In fact, she seemed about my age, with the kind of body men fantasize about, shown off to its full advantage in a barely-there
black dress. Adding to the sex-kitten look were long, wavy brown hair and dramatic red lips. Her bare arms were covered in henna tattoos that looked like an ancient language I had seen in some of Wesley’s texts. She was draped across one of the couches, with two scary looking henchmen hovering just behind.

She smiled and held a hand out to Wesley. “Good evening, Old One.” I noticed her nail polish was red, too. She took the color-coordinating thing seriously.

Wesley bent to kiss her hand. “Fantazia. You’re looking as lovely as ever.”

“You wouldn’t know, considering your spotty memory, but I’ll take any compliment I get.” She motioned for us to sit down. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to the memorial, but after a few centuries, they tend to lose their meaning. But I like the new look. Boyishly handsome suits you.”

“Thank you.”

“You get the good looks no matter which life you’re in.” She gave a soft laugh. “Got to love those genetics.”

“We can keep complimenting each other, or we can get down to business,” I said.

I felt Wesley’s smirk but ignored it. Fantazia just seemed amused.

“Oh, this one’s good. I like her. She’s got spunk.” Her eyes narrowed in critical concentration, and she turned her head as if hearing something I couldn’t. “Wait. Is that…?” She slid off the couch and hovered nearby, running her hands over me without touching, like he had done before. “Oh, my. What have you done?” She shook a finger at him and made a
tsk-tsk
noise. I’m sure the color drained from my face.

“This little girl has a part of your soul! I can’t believe you did that. Oh, but she’s special, isn’t she?” She patted my head as if I were a child. “A rarity. A pure soul. Didn’t want to chance it getting tainted by leaving the wound open?” She went over to her couch again. “Always sacrificing yourself
for the greater good, never mind the consequences. Did you find the last remaining bit of pureness inside you to give to her?”

“Stop it, Fantazia!” Wesley snapped, on his feet. Her goons stood to attention.

She raised a hand to stop them. “Easy, boys. He’s not going to hurt me. He won’t lay a finger on me, will you…I’m sorry, what’s your name now?”

“Wesley,” he said through gritted teeth.

She waited, a sweet but fake smile on her face.

“Charles,” he finished. “And if the fishing expedition is finished, let’s get down to business. You’ve got information for us; now tell me what you know and quit wasting my time.” The light above us flickered. He could still do the scary power-surge thing. Maybe he wasn’t as depleted in the magic area as he thought.

She dismissed her goons with a wave of her hand. “After everything, you can’t believe that I would play
you
, Old One.”

“I believe you’ve become selfish over the years and would do anything to further your own interests.”

“That wounds me.” She put a hand to her chest in mock pain. “Alright. We’ll talk business, then. I’ve heard you’ve been playing with the Cult of the Dragon.”

Wesley steepled his fingers in front of him. “Go on. Who is the leader?”

“The Dragon, of course.”

“And what do they want?”

“What the Dragon wants.”

“And what does the Dragon want?” Wesley looked like he wanted to reach over and smack her.

“To bring about the prophecy of Likghardt.”

I blinked. “What the heck is that?”

She gave me a condescending smile. “He’ll figure it out.”

“What are the ingredients to the prophecy?” Wesley was leaned forward in his seat.

“Interesting choice of words. All are parts to the big puzzle. Each part must be assembled at the right moment. It builds, can’t you feel it?” She held her arms out and smiled. “The magic is growing. Chaos and blood and death and rebirth, all joined together to bring out something wonderful. Or terrible. Depends on how you look at it.” She smiled and got to her feet. “I have another appointment, so you will have to excuse me, Old One.”

Wesley stood. “And what will I owe you?”

“If I can’t do a favor for you, who can I do one for? And if the prophecy comes to pass, you’ll have a whole new set of problems to worry about.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Take care,
il mio creatore
.” Her goons appeared and ushered us out.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“Nothing.” Wesley took my arm again and led me past the room full of guests and back to the real world. “I’d forgotten how infuriating she can be. She can’t just come out with it; no, she has to be vague on purpose.”

I sensed there was something going on other than just annoyance with her riddles, but I didn’t want to bring up the obvious fact they had a past. Who knew if he’d remember it, anyway? “We got some information though—if you understood what it meant; because I’m lost. At least it confirmed our suspicions.”

“It’s just another piece to the puzzle. Now we have to start putting the pieces together.”

“So glad to see you’ve mastered the art of transporting without puking, Wes.”

“You are so funny, you should go into stand-up comedy,” he replied, holding on to the wall as if it were a lifeline.

“I’m just trying to lighten up the situation. Make you laugh—instead of hurl.” I touched his arm in sympathy. “You would think that after almost a month you’d have adjusted.”

“You would think,” he said, and bent over again. I rubbed his back and looked away, like I used to do for Selena when she would come home after a night of partying. He didn’t throw up, but instead took deep breaths.

“We could start taking a car, you know,” I suggested, running a hand up his spine and then ruffling his hair in a soothing gesture. “So you wouldn’t have to go through this every time we patrol.”

“I have to get used to it,” he said, straightening and grabbing me by the waist.

I didn’t react in surprise, but instead leaned in, bracing him with my arms, since he was sick and probably about to pass out, but I also pressed all of my curves against his body. It felt very right to be against him like that. My mouth went dry as our gazes met and I saw the look of desire in his eyes. My rational mind reminded me we had to keep this professional.

But I didn’t move away.

His hands slid down from my waist to rest on my hips.
When I didn’t push him away, his hand strayed toward my butt. My breath caught and unconsciously I wet my lips, turning my face up, expecting a kiss…

He let me go. “I’m sorry, I got dizzy for a moment.”

“It’s okay.” I turned so he couldn’t see my flushed cheeks. “Maybe we should just call it a night.”

“I’m fine, really.”

“You almost passed out on me.”

“No, I didn’t.” His eyes darkened and I shivered, having the uncanny feeling of Robert looking at me through him. Or maybe it was more he was looking at me like Robert used to when he thought I wasn’t watching. Only, Wesley had never made an attempt to hide it.

“Wh-what’s that about? Quit being such a man, Wes, and just admit you’re sick.”

“I didn’t grab you because I was sick,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I did it because I wanted to.”

Oh, God. And I wanted him to as well. Worse yet, I wanted him to kiss me, and I didn’t want it to stop there. When had that happened?

“Wh-why?” I tried to sound curious, like we were discussing politics or something equally boring, and not like I was having very vivid images of kissing him, of him pressing me against the dingy alley wall and having his way with me right there.

Wow. Where had
that
come from?

“I was testing a theory. Looking for a reaction. I’m a scientist and an investigator. It’s what I do.”

“I don’t think scientists are supposed to grab someone’s ass to test a theory.”

He didn’t get a chance to reply, because what sounded like thunder and lightning crashed into a trash can next to us, and it exploded. We both jumped.

I swore. “What was that?”

A dark figure flew down to land in front of us. He was massive, muscles on top of muscles, with a military crew cut
adding to the tough-guy appearance. He wore a black cloak with no shirt underneath. Black tattoos swirled on his chest. Literally. They moved and changed shape as I stared in recognition.

“Talon,” I breathed.

Wesley grabbed my arm. “
Schermo
.” Another concussive blast struck, but the magic shield he had put up protected us. We were pushed back by the force of it.

“It won’t hold forever, Reincarnist,” Talon said. “You’re too weak.”

“I’m still more powerful than any little poseur that comes crawling out of the gutter,” Wesley retorted.