Harley Merlin and the Cult of Eris (Harley Merlin, #6)

I pulled out the small, gilded box that Santana had given me, with the Orisha inside. She was working away on my duplicate back at the SDC, and I just hoped this worked. Carefully, I opened the box and released the bluish spirit. It buzzed and thrummed around my head, awaiting the instructions that Santana had told me to give it. But first, I had to get a lock of hair from Finch. Gathering a tiny, controlled ball of fire in my fingertips, I grabbed Finch and singed off a cluster of copper strands.

“Hey, what the—” He tried to protest, but I already had what I needed. Ignoring him, I turned to the skittish Orisha.

“Please, spirit, do as Santana has asked with this lock of hair.” I handed it to the curious being and watched in surprise as it snatched the entire cluster out of my hand and vanished it into thin air. A few seconds later, the shimmering bluish light stretched out, growing limbs right before our very eyes. Finch gaped as it swiftly turned into a complete imitation of him. Great, as if one Finch isn’t bad enough.

“Well, well, I didn’t know they allowed turds in prison,” the Orisha spoke, the voice still slightly too feminine. Clearly, it had no issue getting right into Finch’s mindset.

Finch spluttered. “What did you say to me?”

“Ah, the turd speaks! Will wonders never cease!” The Orisha grinned, exactly the way Finch would’ve done. Please don’t get us into trouble, Orisha. As if hearing me, the duplicate Finch turned to look at me. “Don’t worry, I’ll tone it down for the men in black out there.”

Finch moved toward the duplicate and reached out to touch it. “You’re… You’re me.”

“Sure am, genius. Now, hands off the merchandise.” The Orisha slapped his hand away, her voice getting more and more like Finch’s by the second.

Wade chuckled. “I’d say the duplicate is more like Finch than Finch.”

I pulled a worried face. “Santana did say she might struggle with filters.”

“Finch doesn’t have one,” Wade reminded me.

“At least you’ve given up that ridiculous hair color.” The Orisha flashed a mischievous grin at Finch. “Copper suits us much better. Ooh, and this body—what’ve you been doing to yourself? I ache all over. Yeesh.”

Finch pointed at the duplicate. “I’d never say ‘yeesh.’ Don’t say that again.”

“I’ll say what I want, thanks,” the Orisha shot back. “It’s your ass I’m covering, after all.”

“What are you?” Finch peered closely, evidently creeped out by the accuracy. I was, too.

“A divine being. I have to say, this is one hell of a demotion.”

He looked at me. “You did this?”

“Nope, this is all Santana and this kind Orisha here. They’ve agreed to cover us while we’re away at the cult,” I replied.

“And don’t you forget it,” the Orisha chimed in. “Yeesh, this is going to take some getting used to.” She tugged down on the crotch of her replica prison jumpsuit, adjusting it awkwardly, much to Finch’s horror and my amusement.

Finch’s cheeks had turned a faint shade of pink. “How about you take your hands off the merchandise!”

“Nope, all mine now, buddy. Until you get back, that is.” The Orisha grinned, her voice now perfectly aligned with Finch’s. “Just a word of warning—I don’t trust you. But Santana has asked me to do this, and if she thinks it’s a good idea, who am I to say no? Desperate times, eh?”

“This is insane,” he mumbled. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

I shot him a withering look. “What were you expecting? That we would come in all guns blazing? The idea is to get in and out as quickly and quietly as possible. No muss, no fuss.”

The Orisha beamed. “Ooh, I like that one. No muss, no fuss. I’ll keep it.”

“Hang on a sec, we can’t leave here without my Esprit,” Finch said, averting his eyes from the Orisha as she continued to readjust the jumpsuit. I was glad the guards couldn’t see what we were up to; they’d be pressed to the glass, not knowing whether to arrest us or howl with laughter.

I shook my head. “We don’t have time to get your Esprit, Finch. Plus, it’ll only make you more dangerous, and I’m not chancing that.”

Finch sneered at me. “I need my Esprit if we’re going to pull off a good disguise, Sis. It’ll help me fine-tune my Shapeshifting. You didn’t think I was going in as myself, did you?”

“No… I guess not.”

“Besides, if, by some twist of fate, we get trapped in the cult, we’ll need all the mojo we can muster to get ourselves out.” He folded his arms across his chest, and the Orisha copied him.

“Mojo is good, too,” she murmured.

I realized I had to do as he’d asked, or we’d never get out of here without alerting the guards. The camera loop wouldn’t work forever, and I didn’t exactly know how much time we had before it failed. Annoyed that Finch was somehow getting his way, I turned over my shoulder to look at Jacob.

“Jacob, can you radio in to Astrid and Krieger?”

He peered up at me. “Me? Oh… right, sure.” He pressed his ear like a newbie bouncer. “Krieger, Astrid, do you read? Harley wants to ask you something.” He looked back at me. “I’ve got them on the line.”

“Ask Astrid if there’s any safe way to portal into the storage room that has the prisoners’ possessions.”

He did as I’d asked, the rest of us waiting for a reply. A few minutes later, he spoke. “She’s given me the coordinates. There’s another safe spot in the corner of the storage room, but we’ll have to use the camera loop on the security there, too. If you give Astrid five minutes, she’ll send a new loop to the device. You’ll need to press the blue button to get it to work. She just needs a moment to hack the cameras.”

“That woman is a miracle,” I said.

“Harley says you’re a miracle,” Jacob repeated. I chuckled, but I didn’t mind Astrid knowing what I thought of her. He glanced back at me. “She says, ‘Thanks, you are too.’”

The minutes seemed to drag by, until a green light flashed on the device, letting me know the new loop had been received. Meanwhile, Finch kept trying to touch the duplicate, only to get his hand savagely smacked away.

“This had better not be some kind of trick,” I warned as I prepared to cancel the loop on Finch’s cell.

He grinned. “What do you take me for?”

“Everyone ready? Jacob?”

“Ready when you are,” Jacob replied. Tendrils of bronze energy swirled around his fingertips as he gathered the strands of his portal ability and tore open a much smaller gap in space and time. In the weeks that had passed since the president’s death, I wasn’t the only one who’d been practicing. Jacob’s skills had improved massively with Isadora’s ongoing help.

After Finch had snatched up a bottle of something from a shelf in the bathroom area, Wade shoved him through first, with the rest of us moving to follow. What are those? His pills? I knew he had to take something for his psychosis, so at least he was being responsible about it. Just before I stepped through, I pressed the red button on the device to stop the loop and the projection, returning the cell to its previous state.

“Will you be okay?” I asked the duplicate.

“Oh yes. I’ll fit in just fine.”

I didn’t doubt her. Santana’s magic was powerful stuff. Giving her an encouraging nod, I jumped into the gaping mouth of the portal. It snapped shut behind me, spitting me out into a dark, unfamiliar room.

The others were huddled in the blind corner, keeping out of sight of the cameras. I pushed down on the device’s blue button, just as Astrid had instructed. It sparked for a moment before the light glowed in the gloomy light.

“The cameras should be on a new loop,” I whispered.

“Should be?” Finch arched an eyebrow.

“Well, seeing as we can’t actually check the camera footage, we have to hope for the best.” I nudged him out of the way and took a step farther into the storage room. “Storage room” was a misnomer, as the space before us stretched out like a warehouse, with shelves upon shelves of belongings.

Finch whistled. “Imagine what we could find in here.”