Playing With Fire - Katie MacAlister [13]
She was silent for so long, I opened my eyes again to see what she was doing.
‘‘He wants you,’’ she said, watching me closely.
‘‘Me?’’ I asked, confused.
‘‘Yes, you. He said he knew you were my doppelganger, and—’’
‘‘What?’’ I interrupted, my mind reeling with shock. ‘‘No one knows I’m your doppelganger. No one but Magoth and a few of his demons. How could he have found out?’’
‘‘Oh, May . . .’’ Her lower lip quivered as her eyes filled with tears again.
I sighed and put my arm around her, sitting her down on the bed. ‘‘Let’s have it from the beginning. What exactly did this blackmailer say?’’
‘‘He said he’d been doing a job in Chicago, and he saw you.’’
‘‘Chicago?’’ I thought furiously. Four weeks ago Magoth had sent me to Chicago to steal an arcanum— an ancient book detailing some ritual or other used by mages centuries ago. ‘‘Magoth sent me there to get an arcanum. I didn’t get it, though—it was gone when I got to the oracle’s library where it was housed. Did he say who he was working for?’’
Cyrene shook her head, sniffing and wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand until I got up and got her a box of tissues. ‘‘He just said he was working for a dreadlord.’’
‘‘Dreadlord?’’ I frowned in thought. ‘‘That’s another name for a demon lord, isn’t it?’’
‘‘I don’t know. I think so.’’
‘‘It’s got to be Asmodeus,’’ I said, sliding that piece of the puzzle into place. ‘‘Magoth is always going on about how Asmodeus tries to beat him to all the good things. I bet you this blackmailer of yours works for Asmodeus, and he was sent to take the arcanum just like I was. Only he beat me to it. That doesn’t explain how he knew I was a doppelganger, though.’’
‘‘He said he saw you shadow walk.’’
‘‘Oh, great,’’ I said, my shoulders slumping. Only doppelgangers could shadow walk, and if this demon or whoever it was Asmodeus had hired to steal the arcanum saw me slipping out of the shadows, it wouldn’t be impossible for him to put two and two together. ‘‘I suppose he followed me back to the hotel?’’
‘‘Yes. That was the weekend I was in Chicago for the Wiccan festival. Evidently he saw us when we got together for dinner, and . . . well, you can guess the rest.’’
‘‘All too easily, yes.’’ My stomach was tight with anger.
Cyrene continued with obvious hesitation. ‘‘He said that he could use your services, and that if I didn’t get you to agree to do what he asked, he’d see to it that I went to mortal prison. Mayling, I don’t want to go to any prison, let alone a horrid mortal one!’’
I bit back the urge to tell her she should have thought of that before bombing the helicopters and ships, but I knew it wouldn’t do much good. Oh, it was true that Cyrene had stepped over the line—even naiads had to have limits—but it was my carelessness in being seen that escalated the situation from an annoyance to something potentially deadly.
‘‘Are you angry with me?’’ Cyrene asked a few minutes later in a soft little voice.
I clasped my arms around my knees, resting my chin on them. ‘‘No, I’m not angry. In a way, it’s kind of funny that I’m in so much demand. I wonder if the other doppelgangers get so many requests for their talents.’’
‘‘I don’t know. Could you ask them?’’ she said, seriously considering my question.
‘‘I haven’t ever talked to them, and I doubt if that’s a suitable reason to contact any of them,’’ I pointed out gently.
‘‘You don’t talk to them?’’
I shook my head.
‘‘I can’t believe you don’t ever talk to them. I’m always in contact with the other naiads.’’
I was well aware of the fact that the naiads, all forty-eight of them, had banded together in a sisterhood that resembled a sorority more than a collection of elemental spirits, but that was neither here nor there. ‘‘There are six doppelgangers in the world, Cy, and we’re spread out all over the place, so I’m afraid getting us together isn’t very likely. Back to the problem at hand—or one of them—what sort of a deadline did this blackmailer