Blood Cross (Jane Yellowrock 02)

"It isn't possible," I agreed, "for humans. Maybe a witch could interfere with it; I don't know. Play it again, and slow it down for the last two minutes before the interference." I followed the sequences one frame at a time and saw nothing unusual. No burst of magic caught on film. And I knew that magic could be seen on film at times, especially digital film, as a scatter of light particles scarring the image. I pin-pointed where each girl was and where Troll was, at the time all the screens went to snow. "Let me see the kitchen."

 

On the monitor, I watched Deon, who was slight of form, about five-seven, and gayer than a nineteen fifties chorus-line dancer, as he washed his hands before tackling sushi. Deon had promised me a sushi-making lesson one Sunday afternoon. Beast liked sushi too; it was one raw meat we could both enjoy. But if Deon had done something to Bliss, I'd make him pay. Deon spent ten minutes slicing veggies and raw salmon before looking up, puzzled. And the interference hit. Troll grunted, seeing the perplexed expression on Deon's face. The new guy had seen or heard something.

 

"Total time the system was blanked was two minutes and forty seconds." Troll hit the RESET button. "Long enough for Bliss to get out or someone to take her."

 

"Yeah," I said. "Bring it back up and let me see where everyone is after the interference." No one had moved except Deon, who was looking out the back window of the dining room, heavy drapery pushed free, a sushi knife in his hand, and Troll, who had been working on accounts in Katie's office before the interference and was standing in front of the console afterward. "She didn't go out the front door. And if she went out the back door, I'd have . . ." I stopped. I'd have smelled her. Right. "Deon might have seen her."

 

"I got a bad feeling about this," Troll rumbled. "Somethin's wrong."

 

I checked Bliss's room, which was decorated in ice blues and grays. There was nothing broken, no evidence of a struggle, and her purse was on a hook in the closet, containing her ID, credit cards, and a wad of cash. I was pretty sure she hadn't left without it, not willingly.

 

Her room overlooked a service alley below. I checked to see if the window would open easily, and it did. There was a shed roof below. Though it was twelve feet down and looked pretty flimsy, she could have sneaked out of the house by the window. But that just didn't feel right. A gust of air blew up, carrying a blood scent. I had smelled Bliss's blood not long ago, and this wasn't hers. Someone else had bled outside, where there were also a few indications of residual magic. Nothing important.

 

I spent another twenty minutes talking to the girls while they drank early cocktails, and to Deon, who was the only one who'd heard anything, though from the side of the house, not the rear. When I asked him why he had looked out the back, he'd lifted his chin. "There be no windows to the side of the house. But good ears, I got, and I heard a thump from there."

 

"Okay. Thanks, Deon," Troll said as the doorbell rang. "That helps." Deon gave a little wrist flick and carried his unappreciated fruit cups back to the kitchen. Indigo jumped up and raced upstairs. The blonde was taking Bliss's early customer.

 

"I'll look around outside," I said, my curiosity growing. I left by the back door and flip-flopped around to the side of Katie's Ladies, to the narrow, unadorned utility area. It was getting darker now, the sky a deeper blue with golden clouds on the western horizon. I paused to get my bearings, and thought I heard a sound, a brief note of . . . something. But it was gone too fast, was unimportant.

 

In New Orleans, every square inch of possible garden space is heavily planted, with miniature gardens springing up in places homeowners and business owners in other locales would have ignored or overlooked, so the barrenness of the place was a surprise. It was no more than five feet wide, with no entrance from the street in front. The small overhang I'd seen from above was made of plywood, brittle and warped with age, and protected a push mower and gardening supplies. There was no indication that anyone had jumped from the window to the shed roof. I didn't need to check it. I could go away.

 

I stopped midturn. Paced back, slowly. The compulsion hit me again. Go away. Nothing to see, nothing to smell, nothing here. The space had been spelled, and I hadn't noticed when I was here earlier.

 

Resisting the compulsion, I eased down the alley, breathing in a strong, unfamiliar witchy scent, a trace of Bliss, and the tang of blood. Someone had been casting in the narrow alley. And she had bled here. I looked around and spotted a thin spray of blood up the wall. A bit more was splattered on the ground, as if the wounds had been quickly stanched. I knelt down to get closer to the scent markers on the ground. My nose was an inch from the dirt when I heard the scream, long and broken.

 

"Jaaaaaaane!"

 

A door thumped. From my house. It was Molly.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 14

 

 

They should all be staked

 

 

My heart stuttered painfully as Beast poured power into my bloodstream. The dusky dimness grew brighter, as if a flash had gone off inside my head, as she bled into my vision. A growl erupted from my throat. I whirled, raced toward my house.