Wicked Whispers (6 page)

He reached out and opened the window. She thought she could hear faint music coming from somewhere. Probably from outside.

“I’ll give you a quick rundown. Holgarth is a wizard, and his son Zane is a sorcerer. Bain is a demon. You haven’t met Dacian yet, but he’s a vampire. Sparkle, Ganymede, and Edge are cosmic troublemakers, and Passion is…” He shrugged. “I’m not sure if she has an official title yet. Oh, and Dacian’s wife, Cinn, is a demigoddess or something. I guess that’s it.”

He looked as though he were checking a list in his head to make sure he hadn’t missed anyone. “You won’t see much of Edge and Passion for a few weeks. He’s the troublemaker in charge of political chaos. He’ll be spending some quality time in Washington encouraging incendiary speeches and discouraging bipartisanship. Got to keep those politicians at each other’s throats.”

Ivy could actually feel the blood draining from her face with each word he said. She gripped the arm of the couch to keep herself from toppling over onto her face. “I don’t believe you.”

“Feel free to disbelieve all you want. You came to me. Remember that.” His eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction. He was enjoying every second of her horrified reaction.

She swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the boulder stuck in her throat. “Cosmic troublemakers? Ganymede?”

“I’ll let them explain. And Ganymede is the fat gray cat.”

“The cat. Of course.” She would
not
vomit. “Thanks for clearing things up. I think I’ll leave now.” Ivy doubted she could stand let alone walk from the room.

“There’s no rush. I’ll get you something to drink and you can watch me do something demonic. How does that sound?”

He’s trying to scare me.
Knowing that didn’t help much.
Stay grounded.
Sparkle had given her a job. She would do the job. And if that meant she had to deal with Murmur and the others, she’d deal. Besides, her mind still refused to accept what he said as truth no matter what she’d seen. “Water would be great.” Where was that music coming from?

She hoped he didn’t notice her shaking hand when she took the glass.

He smiled at her, not a kind smile. “I’m sending a music-gram to some very special people.” That’s all he said before turning to face the window.

Suddenly, music filled the room. Music that felt soft and gooey, as if it would stick to her if it brushed against her. It dipped and swirled and she swore she could see it flowing out the open window. Just as on the beach, the melody wasn’t familiar. It didn’t seem like music at all. It had heat and texture. She almost believed that if she reached out she could grab the notes from the air. A crazy thought, but Ivy kept her hands at her sides.

A primitive fear tapped out its own rhythm along her spine with icy fingers. Ivy didn’t understand what Murmur was doing, but she
did
know that she didn’t want this particular tune seeking her out. “Why isn’t your music affecting me the way it did on the beach?”

The music stopped and he calmly closed the window before returning to stand in front of her. “If I don’t use my music, it builds up in my mind and gives me the mother of all migraines. I was just releasing the pressure when you wandered onto the beach. By the time I realized I wasn’t alone, it was too late to aim it away from you.”

He smiled, and as she forced herself to meet his gaze, she finally believed he was what he claimed. Her fear almost suffocated her. Thank heaven for her terror, because without it she would have a tough time keeping him at a distance. Even now, she felt the pull that had nothing to do with his music.

She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You don’t look like a demon.”

He raised one brow. “And how should a demon look?”

Ivy shrugged. “I don’t know. Big, red, tail, horns…” This was a stupid conversation.

“Stereotypes, always stereotypes.” His sexy lips tipped up in a mocking smile. “Cosmetic surgery took care of the tail. It gave my Armani suits an unacceptable bulge.” His smile eased into something achingly sensual, suggesting that not all bulges were unacceptable. “Sure, I was a little flushed when I first reached the mortal plane, but excessive heat—I come from an overly warm climate—will do that. I cooled down in a few days.”

Ivy doubted he’d cooled down even one degree.

“And the horns are just ridiculous. Who has horns?” He shrugged away that part of demon mythology.

She’d had enough of his derision. “I think it’s time to go.” Ivy forced herself to stand. Good, she was only swaying a little. She tottered toward the door.
What happened to all your big talk about facing your fears?
An honest mistake. She’d underestimated his scary factor and overestimated her courage.

Between one breath and the next he was in front of her. He leaned forward and she forced herself not to shrink away in response. This close he was overwhelming. She was sure those green eyes saw to the heart of her terror.

But the pounding of her heart and the catch in her breath wasn’t all fright. She only wished it were. No one had told her demons could be beautiful, and funny, and smell like wild nights and mornings filled with regrets. He obviously had a two-pronged attack. She balanced on the edge of either racing from the room or reaching out to touch that hard chest just a few inches away.

She opted for running. Yanking open the door, she stumbled into the hallway.

As he closed his door softly behind her, she caught his final comment.

“Coward.” He sounded disappointed.

All she could think about was reaching her room. She would calm herself and then get on her computer and start searching for another job. She stared at the floor as she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. A sudden noise made her look up.

And up, and up, and up. Ohmigod! Whatever it was, this thing was enormous. It had to lower its head so it wouldn’t scrape the ceiling. Its arms hung almost to the floor and were thick with muscle. And its head was colossal with beady eyes and… She swallowed hard.
Breathe. You can’t run without oxygen.
She stared at its face, at the two six-inch long tusks framing a mouthful of pointed teeth. She forced her gaze to its eyes. It was staring at her.

It smiled, baring every one of its teeth. “Eat girl later. Find music maker now. Dance.” It demonstrated how ready it was for
So You Think You Can Dance
by doing a clumsy pirouette.

Ivy now understood what it meant to be frozen in fear. She’d always felt a certain contempt for anyone who couldn’t act in an emergency. Payback was a bitch.

“An ogre. Large but not overly intelligent. Perhaps you should warn Murmur that his dance student has arrived.”

Not even the snooty female voice in her head could force her to look away from the… ogre? No, ogres were misunderstood and lovable and green. Ogres were… Shrek.

“Oh, for crying out loud, stop ogling the ogre and move. Death by ogre is not a pleasant way to go. Get Murmur.”

This time Ivy did look down for just a second. A Siamese cat sat staring up at her from brilliant blue eyes. Its diamond-studded collar sparkled in the dim light coming from the fake wall sconces. Not real diamonds. Couldn’t be. But why the hell was she thinking about the cat’s collar when… ? She returned her attention to the ogre. She opened her mouth to scream.

“Stop. People coming to investigate equals angry ogre. Do you really want all those deaths on your conscience? Now, let me keep this simple: Ogre. Run.”

Ogre! Run!
Finally, her brain had decided to send the message to flee to the rest of her body. Ivy turned and raced back to Murmur’s room. She didn’t have much trouble staying ahead of the shambling ogre because it was busy doing a rhythmic bob and shuffle as it worked its way toward her. She pounded on his door while she tried to suck in enough breath to talk when he answered. Not that he’d need her to explain what was happening. The ogre attempted a graceful leap. Epic fail. The whole castle shook as it landed.

Murmur flung open the door. “What the hell is… ?” He spotted the ogre. “Not possible. Not this fast. Give me a freaking break.” He moved to her side. “I will
never
have another friend.”

Ivy didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “Do something.”

Murmur paused to study the dancing ogre. “Not bad form. For an ogre. He at least has a sense of rhythm.”

“Do. Something. Now.” Her voice rose to a screech. She couldn’t control it.

“Consider it done.” He took a step toward the ogre, and his voice fell into a hypnotic cadence. “Hear no more, yearn no more, dance no more. Return from whence you came.”

Suddenly, the hall was empty. Silence filled the space where the ogre had stood.

“Where’d he go?” Not that she cared. All that mattered was that he’d disappeared.

“I sent him home.” He stepped back into his room, then paused to stare at her. “Interesting. You saw past his glamour.” His expression hardened. “You won’t tell anyone what you just saw. If you attempt to tattle, the words will freeze in your mouth.”

She narrowed her eyes and glared. “Is that a threat? Because I intend to go right to Sparkle and tell her…” Nothing. She couldn’t finish the sentence. Ivy tried rearranging the words in her mind, but she couldn’t push them past her lips.

“You did this.”
State the obvious, why don’t you?
She wanted to hurl every curse she’d ever heard at his manipulative head—he’d crept into her mind and taken away her free will—but she couldn’t concentrate because what sounded like some sort of Gregorian chant was playing over the words she wanted to scream at him.

“It could be worse. I could’ve taken the memory from you completely.” His frown said he was wondering why he hadn’t.

Fury, panic, and terror jockeyed for position as she numbly turned from his door. She didn’t even glance back when she heard it shut. How did he think he could keep this secret? Like everyone hadn’t felt the castle shake?

Then she remembered the Siamese cat. What was it about cats and this castle? A quick glance assured her it was gone. She closed her eyes for a moment and rubbed her forehead. Maybe there’d never been a cat. Maybe this whole thing was one giant hallucination.

Ivy made it back to her room without encountering any more creatures. She sighed her relief as she closed her door and locked it. Then she turned around.

The Siamese cat lay on her bed, its tail twitching and its collar gleaming.
“You took long enough to get back. You can order lunch from room service for both of us.”

Ivy blinked. “Room service?”

The cat’s sigh was a cool shiver in her mind.
“Perhaps you’ve noticed my lack of opposable thumbs? And hotel minions rarely respond to meows, even imperious ones. So you’ll have to order.”

It said a lot about how Ivy’s day had gone so far that she didn’t even question the cat’s presence. She ordered a sandwich and salad that she probably wouldn’t be able to choke down, and then she glanced at the cat. “What do you want?”

“A tender lamb chop and a bowl of milk would be nice.”

Ivy repeated the order and hung up. She sat down on the chair farthest away from the cat. “Okay, who are you?
What
are you?” Her body felt heavy with fatigue, pulled down by a vague sadness. She’d really needed this job to work. “And are you real?”

“Of course I’m real. I don’t think you’re a stupid woman, so don’t act like one. Now, since Sparkle allowed her hatred of me to get in the way of common sense—because I was absolutely the best choice for her assistant—I’ve decided instead to help you survive the job.”

“Survive the job?”

“First, introductions. I’m Asima, messenger of the goddess Bast. I’ve spent time at the castle helping where I can. Sadly, only a few perceptive people appreciate my value.”
She raised her elegant nose, a haughty gesture that crossed species lines.
“I was away for a short time and came back to find that Sparkle had hired you. Truly shortsighted of her.”
She seemed to think about that for a moment.
“Although I’m sure you’re a perfectly nice person. I simply meant that
you’re unprepared for the… unique demands of this job.”

Ivy didn’t want to think about the “unique demands” of her new job. She was too busy dealing with the earthquake happening in her head, obviously caused by the massive shift in reality taking place there. Her last bastion of belief in a sane world was, well… insanity. At least if she was certifiable she could get help from her local mental health facility.

The delivery of their lunches shut the cat up for a little while. Too little. It made short work of the lamb and milk with delicate bites and refined laps. Ivy sat and stared at her lunch. She might never eat again. Okay, so that was stupid.
Don’t implode. Stay grounded.

Once finished, the cat… No, Asima—Ivy decided to assume she was still sane—stared at her with unblinking intensity.

“The first thing you need to know is how to dress for your job. I took the liberty of dropping a few things off in your closet while you were in your meeting. Sparkle will love your professional look.”

For just a moment, something sly moved in the cat’s eyes. Ivy studied Asima, but before she could do any analysis, the expression was gone. “Thanks. I think.” So many questions to ask, but Ivy’s thoughts still staggered in shocked circles.

“You’re welcome.”
Asima leaped from the bed and padded to the door. It swung open.
“I’ll get back to you later with some guaranteed ways to impress Sparkle.”

“Wait.” Ivy might not know or trust Asima, but the cat was her only weapon against Murmur now. “You saw the… You were there in the hall. Please, go with me to Ganymede or Holgarth if you don’t want to deal with Sparkle, and explain what you saw.”

“Why would I do that?”
Asima seemed genuinely perplexed.

Ivy took a deep breath before blurting the truth. “I can’t say the word…” She flung her arms up in frustration. “You know, the thing we saw? Murmur messed with my mind. He wants to keep it secret, but I think someone needs to be told. It could’ve injured guests. Sparkle’s my boss. I have a duty to inform her.” Okay, the truth? She was furious at Murmur. He’d dared to manipulate her mind without her permission. Ivy hated her feeling of helplessness. And yes, she wanted to make him pay. If that made her a vengeful bitch, then so be it.