Amazon Ink

Chapter Nineteen

I beat Reynolds to my shop, but barely. I’d rushed into the gym to grab a few minutes with Zery, but she was being stubborn, ignoring me while she stood huddled with Pisto and a few other warriors. The group sent to scout for new parties, I guessed.

By the time she had turned to look at me, I knew it was too late. I could feel Reynolds standing behind me. Could see it on Zery’s face too.

She pulled a knife from her belt as she walked and threw it the length of the room. It slammed into a wooden pillar about four feet to my left. Stuck there. I didn’t turn my head, didn’t drop my gaze from her face.

Message sent and received.

Reynolds stepped forward, the entire length of his body pressed against my side. I could feel tension vibrating through him. His hand was on his holster. I don’t know what stopped him from pulling his gun-street smarts? Some sixth sense that told him Zery wasn’t a threat at that moment? Or was it a simple matter of speed? Zery had performed the entire act in only a few seconds. Cop or not, it had to seem surreal to him-she’d moved that fast; maybe he thought it was all an act. It wasn’t, of course. Zery was deadly serious.

As Zery ground to a halt in front of us, I didn’t bother to further analyze the reason for his lack of overt action. I was just grateful for it.

“What are you doing?” Zery asked. The question was directed at me. She had yet to let an eyelash flicker in Reynolds’ direction.

The detective stepped forward, went through his whole “I’m a detective investigating the murders” routine. I’d heard it before, blocked it out. Besides, I was busy soaking in the betrayal in Zery’s eyes and the pure hatred in Pisto and company’s.

As Reynolds’ introduction wound down, the group of warriors around Zery grew. None of them touched a weapon, but they didn’t have to-the promise was obvious. If Reynolds felt it, he didn’t react, gave no sign that he knew the dozen or so women now surrounding him-they’d come up from behind too-wanted him, us, gone.

Done with his spiel, Reynolds crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

Zery didn’t move, and none of the warriors would until she did.

It could be a long wait. Not wanting the detective to get impatient and force an action all of us would regret, I took a step forward, into the gym. “The detective just wants to ask a few questions about the girls…who they were, where anyone saw them last, that kind of thing.” I prayed what I said was true, that he wouldn’t start digging into Amazon life.

Zery held my stare for a heartbeat. It felt like a lifetime. Then she raised her left hand, told the warriors with that one gesture to back off, scatter. They did, but they didn’t wander far. One twitch from Zery and they’d be back at her side, their weapon of choice pressed to my or Reynolds’ throat within seconds.

Reynolds unfolded his arms. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“The cafeteria,” I responded and started walking, taking the short route through the main gym. Either way, we had to walk past warriors. Might as well get it over with as quickly as possible.

While we moved ahead, Zery took a minute to speak with Pisto. The Amazon had been staring at me since I’d walked into the gym, eyeing me as if measuring me for a hole-although I doubted she was worried about accuracy of the fit, just depth.

“Interesting group,” Reynolds said as he held the door open for me. I closed my eyes and walked into the cafeteria. I didn’t want to know if any of the warriors were watching as I let him get away with what to him was probably just a show of good manners, but to them…no telling.

“We just caught them at a bad time. They’re training for a celebration.”

“With knives?” His gaze floated over the room, cataloging everything he saw there, I was sure.

“Celebration’s the wrong word. More of a demonstration,” I replied.

His eyes focused on me. “You have a hard time hitting the right word, don’t you?”

I walked over to a table and pulled out a chair. “I’d offer you coffee, but…”

“You won’t.” He sighed. “I’m doing my job, Mel.”

I shrugged, then turned so I could look out the window at the walkway between the cafeteria and my shop.

Zery arrived, saving me from getting completely pissy-at least for a few seconds before they both told me to leave. Even then, I had to swallow my ire. Arguing with either of them in front of the other might reveal more about me and my life than I cared for either to know.

After an angry stare at each, I strolled out the door. Somehow, as I walked out, a small rock got kicked into the space near the hinges, keeping the door from closing.

I was leaning against the doorjamb, straining to hear what was being said, when Peter stepped around the corner from the front of the building. He glanced from me to the window.

It was lighter outside than inside. I didn’t know if he could see Reynolds and Zery sitting at the table, and I didn’t want to step away from the door to find out-didn’t want them to see me, or Peter for that matter.

Realizing I had no other option, I moved away from the door, toward the basement steps where I was fairly sure we wouldn’t be visible from where Zery and Reynolds sat.

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

He raised both brows. “Not with me.” He glanced over my shoulder, back toward the parking lot. “Looks like you have a visitor. Is he in there?” He nodded toward the cafeteria.

I stared at him, remembering our kiss and his questions about Reynolds. The air around us seemed to thicken, and I was suddenly uncomfortable in my skin, like I needed to move, get away from something. But I held firm. I wanted to know what happened between Reynolds and Zery. I wouldn’t let my conscience drive me away.

Besides, I had nothing to feel guilty about-at least not regarding Peter.

“Why’s he here, Mel?” He brushed my hair from my face.

My body, traitorous hunk of flesh that it was, edged forward. It was cool today, and my fleece wasn’t enough to keep the chill at bay. I suddenly realized how warm he would be, how nice it would feel to lean up against him.

I took a step back.

“It doesn’t involve you or the shop,” I replied, keeping my voice firm and businesslike. “Don’t you have a client?”

“No, actually, I was looking for Dana. Have you seen her?”

A band tightened around my heart. “No, how long’s she been missing?”

He frowned, real concern showing in his eyes. “I didn’t say she was missing. Just that I was looking for her.”

“She isn’t upstairs?” I couldn’t help it; panic was building. Dana had been at the bars. Zery had the other girls who had been there under watch-why hadn’t I thought to do the same for Dana?

Reynolds and Zery forgotten, I headed down the stairs, skipping as many as I hit. When I jerked open the door, what-make that who-I saw there stopped my heart cold.

Alcippe.

The old bat was standing in my basement, dressed in some flowing purple number that seemed to fluff up when she saw me-like a cat expanding its fur. Bubbe stood next to her. I could tell by my grandmother’s iron-stiff back that they’d been arguing.

That was enough for me. I entered the room ready to battle.

Bubbe held up one hand. “Stop.”

I did what she would have done, kept moving. “Get out of my house,” I said, my feet coming to a stop less than a foot away from Alcippe. Her robes billowed again, flapping over my foot with the whisper-light touch of silk.

She glanced at me, then away as if I didn’t exist-or was too inconsequential to mess with.

“Melanippe. You forget yourself and who you bring with you.” Bubbe pointed toward the door I’d entered through. Sauntering down the steps came Peter.

This Alcippe noticed. She spun to face me. “Men? Have you fallen that far? You look to men for safety?” She made a face like she wanted to spit.

My hands itched and a space behind my eyes pounded. I wanted to pummel her-with magic and my fists, show her where I looked for safety. As if anything about her brought me fear.

Peter glanced around; I could see the confusion on his face. Bubbe began to mutter, but it was too late. He wouldn’t forget what he had seen here, but luckily he hadn’t seen anything too strange-yet.

“Is Dana here?” I forced my arms to relax at my sides, to present a less aggressive image, at least from Peter’s angle. For Alcippe I didn’t bother but let every ounce of aggression I felt pour out of my eyes. “What have you done with her?”

In answer, the high priestess turned and held up one hand. “Dana, are you ready? We’ll leave now. My business is done, for now.” She angled her face to mine, let her own animosity show-didn’t try to hide it either, not even from Peter.

The door to Mother’s weight room crawled open and Dana, her eyes red and her shirt covered in paint, crept into view. I spun on one foot, my hands flying up, my only thought to stop the high priestess from doing to Dana what she’d done to me.

“Melanippe.” Bubbe’s hand shot upward too. Wind smacked into my face; I fell backward onto my butt.

As I clambered to stand, Peter moved. Within seconds he was beside Dana, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder. He murmured something to her. I couldn’t hear his words, but I could see their effect on Dana. Her shoulder lost the rounding of defeat and her chin rose.

Glad to have someone on my side, even if it was just a man and a hearth-keeper, I faced Alcippe and my grandmother. “You can’t make her go against her will.”

“It isn’t against her will. She wants to go. Don’t you, Dana?” The door to outside was wide open; Pisto stood this side of it. A light breeze shifted her hair. I couldn’t stop myself from imagining the breeze growing, until it clawed at her hair, wrapped around her, and jerked her out of the basement, left her defeated and winded outside on the dirt.

As if reading my thoughts, Bubbe moved again, this time casting as she did. A bubble clamped down around me. I couldn’t see it, didn’t think anyone else could either, but I could feel it-and I could see the expression on my grandmother’s face. Whatever she was doing was costing her.

Guessing at her game, I twitched my fingers, tried to reach the wind-nothing. Bubbe had shut me off, dropped me into a vacuum.

I pulled in a breath, ready to fight dirty if necessary, but then Peter moved behind her, reminding me we weren’t alone. What Bubbe had done was subtle. What I would have to do to break free wouldn’t be. Was I ready to expose myself and the Amazons that completely?

Pisto stepped farther into the room. “C’mon, Dana. Time to go home.” Her hand lowered to her sais, two tridentlike weapons shoved into her belt. She pulled one out, spun it around so the long end ran parallel to her arm and the forked end was concealed by her hand.

Peter murmured something else to Dana, then the pair turned and started walking away from Pisto toward the main stairs that led to my shop and living area instead.

Alcippe thrust out an arm. A curtain of dirt, jerked from every corner of my unswept basement, rose from the floor. The noise was deafening. It was like being part of a landslide, except the earth was moving sideways, then upward.

Her arm out straight, Alcippe held the wall, cutting off the path Peter and Dana had been about to take.

“Pisto, get your sister,” Alcippe ordered. Then she looked at me. “I won’t let you tear us apart again.”

That was it. I’d had enough, and the dirt wall Alcippe had set in front of Peter pretty much gave away the whole magic thing anyway. I sucked in a breath and prepared to blast my way out of Bubbe’s bubble. As I did, I realized I didn’t need to. My grandmother had quit chanting, let whatever had been cutting me off disintegrate.

I jerked my attention to her, but she had her back turned and seemed to be concentrating on Peter instead. He looked dazed, lost. His arm was still around Dana, but I could tell he had no idea where he was…what was happening around him.

I wondered briefly if Bubbe had teamed with Alcippe to stop Peter’s exit with Dana, but as quickly as the thought appeared, I dismissed it. My grandmother was a cat at heart. Most high priestesses were. They didn’t work as a team.

Bottom line, she was more concerned with shielding Peter from learning something he shouldn’t, something that might cost him his life later, than in keeping me from battling with Alcippe.

Maybe she even wanted me to finally face my old nemesis.

I pulled in a breath and prepared to blow Alcippe’s curtain back to the four corners of my home.

My lungs had just started to fill when the outside door creaked and a voice filled with authority called out, “What’s going on here?”

Detective Reynolds stood in the doorway, a gun in his hand.

Pisto whirled. I didn’t stop to think, just made a swiping motion with my hand while I released the little bit of air that I’d gathered. The wind wrapped around her feet, tripping her.

She fell, her sais smashing into the cement floor. To my right Alcippe moved too. Her wall of dirt collapsed as she did, clouding the room until all of us were coughing and choking, fighting our way through the dust storm caused by my wind and Alcippe’s dirt. Somehow, through the mess, Peter found me. His hand gripped me by the arm and he dragged me forward toward the door. My tennis shoes slid over loose dirt. I almost lost my footing but, head down, he kept pulling. As we reached the door, I realized he had Dana by the arm too.

The three of us stumbled up the steps into the clean air. Dana collapsed on the grass, her hands on her belly, her eyes huge. I dropped to my knees beside her, assured her she was okay, that her baby was okay.

Behind me I could hear Pisto yelling, demanding I step away from her sister, but I ignored her. I didn’t know who or what was keeping her from launching herself onto my back and I didn’t care. I felt Dana’s fear like my own. I wasn’t going to leave her here to wallow in it alone.

Finally, with Dana cradled in my arms, her face pressed against my chest, I turned my attention to what was going on around us. Peter, his normally casual posture abandoned, stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, his body coiled as if ready to spring. It was an alert, almost aggressive stance I’d never witnessed him take.

It was unsettling-like he was an entirely different person from the one I thought I’d come to know, but also disturbingly reassuring. It was nice to have someone else on guard, to be able to concentrate on comforting Dana without worrying about an attack from behind. It was nice not having to be the strong one. A piece of me screamed at the sacrilegious thought, but I couldn’t deny that another part of me almost sighed with relief-even if it was for only a few moments.

The sound of Pisto screaming again, this time just a general cry of outrage, pulled my attention away from Peter and to the chaotic scene playing out in the small space between my shop and the gym. Seemed like everyone was there-Amazons, my employees, and a few customers. Even the dog had reappeared. He sat in the back as if unsure whether to dive into the melee or run for cover.

But the real sight was the main players-those who had been in the basement when the curtain fell. Reynolds, Bubbe, Alcippe, and Pisto, all coated in dust, stood on the other side of the basement stairwell.

Dirt continued to spiral out of the open basement door; it made seeing exactly what was going on a challenge. But I couldn’t miss Pisto’s yells or the fact that someone or something was keeping her from coming over the open stairwell at me.

Giving Dana one last reassuring pat, I stood. Enough of letting Peter carry the load. I needed to be ready to fight.

At this angle I could see that Mother, looking calm and clean, had Pisto gripped around the waist. The Amazon lieutenant leaned forward, a crazed look in her eyes. Somehow she’d lost her sais. I could see them lying on the ground a few feet away. One side of her face also appeared to be swelling, making me guess Mother’s calm demeanor was deceptive.

To their left, Alcippe and Bubbe seemed to be involved in a battle of their own. I couldn’t tell if magic or only wills were involved, but it was obvious the two were attempting to gain control of each other in some manner.

Reynolds stood facing all of them. He’d lost his jacket and his gun was back in its holster. He had his back to me, so I couldn’t see his face, but his hands were shaking. By the way he held them, I had to guess he was trying to decide if holstering his gun had been a wise choice. But from the basement doorway, all he’d seen was an explosion of dirt and now coughing, if tense, people. I doubted if, on paper, either would look like a justified reason to pull a gun.

The door to the cafeteria opened and Zery stepped out. She, like Mother, appeared calm, but I knew she was holding an iron fist around her emotions. She always did.

Reynolds spotted her and moved that direction in controlled, even strides. As he approached, five Amazons moved to block his progress. He froze. Every line of his body showed he was aware of their intent, but he didn’t lose his cool or reach for his gun.

His and Zery’s control were a stark contrast to the raging Pisto behind him.

Zery called out an order and the Amazons folded back like geese moving into a new formation. Her movements smooth and unhurried, she brushed past Reynolds and took his former position in front of her lieutenant and high priestess. Without a word from Zery, both ceased their struggles-Alcippe taking a step back and lowering her head, Pisto jerking her body from Mother’s grip and moving to stand by her queen’s side.

Her countenance dark, she watched me.

I folded my arms over my chest and stared back.

Beside me, Peter moved closer, completely cutting off Pisto’s view of her sister. Her shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t shift her gaze from mine. It was me she blamed for this, and she was making sure I knew it.

In another situation she would have called me out, but with Reynolds, my employees, and their clients watching, Zery wouldn’t stand for it.

Another time, Pisto’s expression said.

As Zery moved back toward Reynolds, so did Pisto. Anger still rolled off her body. While Zery and Reynolds talked, she kept her eyes focused on something over his shoulder, seemed to be ignoring them both.

At one point, Zery turned to her and barked out some short order. Pisto hesitated, then pivoted and cantered off, around the corner and out of sight.

Zery swiveled back to Reynolds, who was watching the warrior leave. After another word to him, Zery stepped around him and followed Pisto. With her exit, the remaining Amazons, including Alcippe, Mother, and Bubbe, followed. After I raised my eyebrows a time or two at my employees, the area cleared of everyone except Dana, Peter, Reynolds, and me. Even the dog, who had sat still through everything, loped off.

Reynolds just stared at me.

I turned with the idea of helping Dana to her feet, but Peter had beaten me to it. Instead, I grabbed her hand, squeezed, and whispered in her ear for her to go upstairs and get showered. Then remembering my resolution to keep an eye on her, I held onto her hand, keeping her from leaving.

“She’ll be okay. I’ll walk her up.” Peter held out his hand.

I paused, unsure.

His hand didn’t waver. “Your mother went toward the shop when she left. I can ask her to play guard dog, if you like. Then I-” he glanced at the approaching detective-“can come back down here.”

I gave Dana’s hand another squeeze, then slipped her fingers into Peter’s. “I’ll be fine,” I murmured.

Reynolds came to a stop a few feet away.

“Oh, I know that,” Peter replied. “Still might come back down.” He stared at the other man as he spoke.

Reynolds arched a brow but otherwise didn’t respond.

After one last stare, Peter and Dana left.

“What was that about?” Reynolds asked, pulling a white square of material from his pocket and handing it to me.

At my questioning look, he mimicked dabbing at his face. “You have a spot.”

I glanced down at my dirt-coated body, then at his. “Yeah, you too.” I tossed him back the square, bent at the waist, and shook a small sandstorm of dirt from my hair.

When I’d resumed an upright position, he was leaning against the banister, looking patient and expectant at the same time. “So, you going to tell me anything?”

I went through the motions of knocking dust off my arms and laughed. “Seems I’m the one who’s been doing all the telling. I think I’m done.”

“It doesn’t-”

“Work that way. I know.” I stepped toward the sidewalk. I was finished. I didn’t know what he’d seen or thought he’d seen in the basement, but I doubted I’d be able to affect his perceptions. Let him worry it out on his own. His conclusions couldn’t be any more detrimental to me or the Amazons than the truth.

And I had a hearth-keeper to protect.

“What if I tell you what I find out about the Web site?”

That stopped me. I turned.

“Would you?”

He shoved the cloth into his front pocket and walked over to where I could now see his jacket lay on the ground. “I might.”

I laughed again. “I’m starting to think you don’t get the whole barter system.”

He picked up his jacket, let it dangle from two fingers at his side. “It’s the best I can do.”

I shook my head. “And what is it you want from me for this ‘best you can do’?”

He glanced at the basement steps. “Tell me what I saw down there.”

I pulled in a breath, held it for a second. “Nothing. You saw nothing.” Then I walked to the front, and he didn’t stop me.