Greywalker - Kat Richardson [131]
A fury of sound shook the doors behind us, the Grey roiling and pitching in full storm. He laughed louder, washing himself in the roar and swell of chaos, fear, and anger flooding out of the merely material doors.
“Yes, you do well,” he shouted over the tumult. “I’ll look forward to our next meeting. You’ll be everything I could have hoped!”
His laughter battered at me, taking on a drunken giddiness which rose to a shriek of delight. He stared at the doors, reaching out to them and drinking in the pandemonium that poured out on the flood tide of furious, twisting energy. I swung around the newel-post, shoving my way up from the Grey depths, and bolted, scrambling and stumbling, ripping my stockings, my knees, and my arms on the marble stairs.
I lunged upward, gasping, to escape whatever dreadful thing had come to life below. Arms snagged under my own and slammed me back into the other world’s serrated blackness whipped by stabbing light and lacerating screams.
Cameron dropped me back to my feet across the street, huge maelstrom eyes staring into mine.
“Run!”
THIRTY
We ran like two deer flushed from cover. I’d lost my shoes somewhere and my legs and arms were scraped and bleeding, but we never stopped nor turned back to investigate the storm behind us.
In the office, I collapsed into my chair, shaking and gulping air. I felt sore, sick, wretched, and tired to death. Cameron sat still and kept quiet while I pulled myself back together.
Still shaking, but able to breathe, I looked at my bruised, bloodied limbs. “I’m kind of a mess.” The world seemed unstable and prone to shimmer, lighting up with strange colors. I kept talking, just for the sound of a voice. “But I think we’re all right.”
“What do you suppose happened back there?” Cameron asked. “I had a weird feeling just before the screaming started.”
“I think it was the opening salvo of the war. When I left, Edward was about to have a chat with Alice.”
“Oh. You don’t think she could take him out, do you? Then we’d be humped.”
I shrugged, feeling pulped. “I doubt it. If Carlos chose to defend Edward, I’d expect it to get pretty nasty. That chaos might have been something Wygan did, too. He seemed to be expecting it, he was almost—” I broke off, gulping against bile.
“You OK, Harper?”
I jerked aside and heaved my dinner into the trash can. This night was killing me. I hung there with my head down for a minute, waiting for the giddiness to pass.
Something crashed out in the hall and Cameron reentered the office carrying a paper cup full of water. I pulled myself up. He put the water on the desk and I took it with a questioning look.
He shifted from foot to foot. “Bathroom door was locked.”
“Landlord’ll have to fix it,” I croaked. I really didn’t give a damn. I rinsed my mouth and spat into the trash. “Thanks. And thanks for getting me out of there.”
“I was afraid to touch you, because you always act like it hurts, but I figured whatever was back there was worse.”
“You figured right. You’ll make a pretty intimidating vampire someday.” I coughed.
“I think I’d rather go the smooth and seductive route, thanks.”
I eyed him, his blond hair a tangle, mustache ratty. He grinned. We both broke up in desperate laughter.
I gasped, clutching my very sore belly, and lay back into the chair.
“Maybe we should rethink our schedule, Harper.”
“Huh?” I mumbled. I didn’t think I could move. The chair was drawing me into its old, worn shape, muffling me with the comforting smell of warm leather and old files. My eyelids were as sore as the rest, so I closed them.
“You seem pretty wrecked. Maybe you should rest a couple of days before we go after that organ.”
“Can’t. Carlos and Edward laid plans. ’Sides, longer we wait, better chance the ghost will find it, or something like tonight happens again. Can’t take much more of this. Have to cut it off, now. . . .”
Cameron sighed a long, sad stream of blue fog. “I guess,” I heard him say as the soft mist folded over me and I faded down to unconsciousness.
The buzzing of my pager woke me. My office