Explosive chemistry, p.2
Explosive Chemistry, page 2
“Is that why he’s going to be murdered, do you think? Because he’s friends with the Celtic werewolf? There’s a lot of Others who have a hate on for Pete’s kind.”
“It is possible. Let me look.” With a feeling of dread, she opened her fourth eyes again to look into the life path of Pete and his other allies.
Sergeant Giovanni had narrowly avoided one death at the hands of the widow spiders, only to walk blithely toward another. “Sergeant Giovanni, who is also Pete’s friend, has at least three possible deaths waiting for her, one very soon. In two weeks.”
Colonel Bennet, the handsome Fae prince who had killed a Wolfhound to protect Pete would be dead in less than a year. His entire identity was wrapped in secrets, so Liliana didn’t say anything about him out loud. Seeing him die sent a jerk to her belly that made her fight not to throw up her lunch.
She swallowed, then said, “Detective Jackson will die within days, the same time as Sergeant Giovanni. Or Pete might die trying to protect her from an Other killer.” Detective Jackson had been with Sergeant Giovanni and Pete when they accused Liliana of murder, but she refused to believe Liliana was guilty with no evidence other than Liliana being spider-kin. The detective had been the only one who believed in Liliana’s innocence.
Janice sat down on the coffee table facing Liliana. “Wow. That’s a lot of murder all of a sudden.”
So much death.
Liliana shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. “I have not seen so many images of people dying all at once since I lost two of my three parents, two brothers, one sister, and all their families in the same year. And that was when Nazis were killing everyone.”
“These are all the red wolf’s friends, though. You know werewolves are trouble, and Celtic wolves even more than most. I hope Ben is safe.”
A quick glance showed no near danger to Ben Harper, the Normal teacher who owned Pete’s heart. “Ben is not involved in most of what I see. He should be all right.” Although, he would have died, too, if she and Colonel Bennet hadn’t already slain the first Wolfhound.
Janice bit her lip. “Are you in any danger yourself?”
Even knowing that it was a question she probably did not want to see the answer to, Liliana looked into her future. She saw a dozen different deaths. Each vision was flickery like a candle flame in the wind, shifting with uncertainty, but they all involved Pete in one way or another. “Yes, the more I am involved in Pete’s life, the more ways I might die.”
She closed all her eyes, overwhelmed. Clearly, becoming Pete’s ally had a detrimental effect on one’s life expectancy.
“Madame Anna, I know you’ve always been the one to give me advice, but it sounds like being Pete’s friend is really dangerous. He doesn’t think you’re a killer anymore, so he shouldn’t bother you.” Janice patted her knee. “Maybe you’d be better off just going back to the way things were?”
Liliana considered Janice’s advice. If the spider seer went back to her old life, to watching the future of Others, guiding them safely around obstacles, and staying out of the larger affairs of the Other community in North Carolina, she would probably live a lot longer.
“Pete and all my new friends would die.” Her life would go back to being routine, boring, and lonely. “I do not want to be alone anymore.”
Janice squeezed her knee and nodded. “I didn’t even think about how lonely you must get never talking to anyone who doesn’t pay you.”
“I am also unwilling to be the kind of person who sees danger to my friends coming and does nothing.” Even if it meant increasing her probability of meeting an untimely end. That was not the child her three brave warrior parents raised. That was not the woman she wanted to see in the mirror. “Also, Pete trusts me.”
To her surprise, Liliana concluded that being worthy of that trust was more important to her than anything else, including increasing the likelihood of her survival.
Janice nodded and sat back. “I respect that. Okay, then. Is there anything you can do to help?”
Having saved Pete from the certain death she’d seen a few days before, Liliana felt confident that she could change the dark futures she saw, although it might cost her own life. “Changing fate is always dangerous. I must be careful, or I could make things even worse.”
“Worse, how?” Janice asked. “Could something happen to other people?”
That was a disturbing thought. “Other people may already be in danger.” Liliana had spent decades keeping her clients safe and guiding them toward happiness. Her clients made up a fair percentage of the Others in Fayetteville, and even a small percentage of the Normal humans. “I only looked at my friends’ futures.”
Is this tide of death focused, or will it harm more people I watch over as well?
Her fourth eyes showed her an ugly chain reaction, pushing outward like ripples spreading in a lake of blood. “Oh.”
“What is it, Madame Anna?” Janice bit the cuticle on her thumb.
“If Doctor Nudd dies, then Pete dies, then Sergeant Giovanni and Detective Jackson die, then everyone those two police women, military and civilian, might have protected dies or has awful things happen to them with no one to stop it. This could be devastating to all of Fayetteville.” The fate of her entire community was tangled with the fate of her friends.
“Where is all this coming from all of a sudden?” Janice got up and paced back and forth in Liliana’s small living room. “You and Ben’s man, Pete, stopped the ones who were killing those soldiers. That should have made us all safer.”
Janice was right. Wiping out the widow spiders should have stopped the red tide of violent death, not made the situation worse.
Why is everyone still in so much danger? What did we miss?
Another quick flash of the two military women being executed from behind made her shiver. They must be key in some way.
How are they related? Why do I keep seeing them?
Her fourth eyes failed to see an answer. The deaths themselves clouded and overwhelmed everything else. As always. “I keep seeing these two women being killed. They’re soldiers in uniform. Others of some kind. I don’t understand how, but they’re related to the source of the danger in some way.”
Janice sat next to her on the couch. “Well, whatever you decide to do, Madame Anna, you watch your back. Those widow spiders hurt you pretty bad. Whatever is coming sounds like it’s a lot worse.”
Despite the lingering horror all the visions of death left her with, she smiled. “I will be careful.” Janice Willoughby worried about her. It was nice that someone did.
Clocks chimed, telling Liliana it was almost time for her next appointment. She had to ask Janice to leave. She found that she did not want the rabbit-kin to go.
“I’ll see you next week then, at the regular time,” Janice said.
Liliana nodded, said, “Goodbye,” as social rules required, and started to shut the door.
“Um, Madame Anna?” Janice said.
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you’re okay. You be real careful helping your friends, and…I really enjoyed lunch.”
Liliana smiled at Janice’s tennis shoes. “I did too.”
After she shut the door, Liliana considered the Fae Colonel, wondering if he could be the source of so much danger. Having a Sidhe with the potential to bond with the land on this side of the ocean was something she’d feared since she was smuggled into this country. The land always chose Sidhe Fae as rulers. So as long as there were no Sidhe royalty on this continent, all the Others who had fled here were safe. No non-native Fae had bonded with this land in over two-hundred years, and most of the native Fae had been killed or driven into hiding.
If the Colonel did manage to bond to the land and another Sidhe Fae opposed him, like his sister Aurore Principessa, who was known for her cruelty…
It was a recipe for war.
Maybe he is the source of the rising tide of death.
Letting the Colonel’s fated death happen without interfering might be best for everyone.
But he is handsome.
The thought came unbidden and was supremely unhelpful in her attempts to find a logical way through the morass of death and intertwined fates.
But he was handsome, from his shimmering obsidian demi-stone form to the high cheekbones, full lips, and intense gaze of his human form. Regardless of her attraction to him, she could not condemn a man to death without knowing more about him. After all, he had protected both Pete and Sergeant Giovanni. Plus, he was strong and fierce, and had a smooth, deep voice that made her belly warm. While it might be wiser to do nothing and let his death find him, she would not find that at all easy.
The right kind of Fae ruler had, historically, caused the land to flourish and ushered in golden ages of plenty and peace. Arthur Pendragon had only been half Sidhe and therefore mortal. Yet his brief rule was still remembered.
Baba Yaga, on the other hand, blasted her own land to win a war. Countless died, both millions of Normal and thousands of Others. It took a century for the land to recover. Baba Yaga was gone now. The Green, the power and soul of the earth, did not take kindly to those who betrayed it.
Liliana did not know what sort of man this Fae prince was or what his ambitions might be. But he had nearly a year to live. Later, Liliana would decide if she should try to save the Fae prince.
First, she would have to save Sergeant Giovanni. Again. And Detective Jackson, and possibly Pete as well. And then Doctor Nudd.
A knock on her business door let her know that her next client had arrived, a nice seelie Fae sylph. His wife was a soldier deployed overseas, and he worried constantly.
After work, she would explore future paths to find a way to change her favorite people’s dark fates.
Chapter 2
Camp Killer
Two weeks later, Liliana carefully laid a trip line between two tree trunks across a hiking path in Carver’s Creek State Park. She tied one of the nearly invisible cords of silk at ankle height, grateful that her ribs no longer ached when she bent over. Even her shoulder was finally back to normal. The other line, she could just walk under, with a brush along the top of her head. She ducked anyway since the silk was still damp and she didn’t want it to stick to her hair.
That used to happen to her a lot when she was young. More than once, one of her mothers had to cut out silk that had become hopelessly stuck and tangled.
Her fourth eyes supplied an image from her childhood.
Little Liliana ran to her home wagon, left hand stuck in her hair by her own spider silk. “Mut, help,” she said, hopping up onto the wooden steps. She pulled the carved door open with her free hand. She must have been eight or nine since her second eyes hadn’t opened yet.
The scent from the bunches of drying lavender tied to the ceiling and the warmth of the close wagon interior washed over her. “Look what you’ve done, Liliana.” Solifu’s clipped Egyptian accent sounded annoyed. “Your silk is strong, not easy to break. You must not be careless with it.” She set aside the safety net she’d been retying that would go under the high wire and trapeze when they did their circus acts.
“I’m sorry, Mut. I didn’t mean to.” Liliana stared at the floor, seeing her first mother’s delicate feet in ballet slippers and her second mother’s bare feet and harem pants of brilliant green velvet with sequined edges.
Liliana looked to Ixchel for sympathy, where she sat on the floor, her head resting on Solifu’s knee. Her tall, lithe second mother simply shook her head in exasperation. “I’ll find the sewing scissors.” She stood and started rummaging through the storage cupboards that lined most of the walls inside the wagon.
“But I don’t want my hair short again. It makes me look like a boney little boy.” The other kids in the circus made merciless fun of Liliana the last time her hair had to be cut short.
Solifu’s face was stern, immune to her child’s whining distress. “If you would keep your silk out of your hair, we wouldn’t have to cut it.”
Ixchel sat on the bench built into the wall where they stored their clothes and gestured to the spot between her feet. “Come here.”
Liliana knelt between her second mother’s knees, back to her, facing her first mother, who went back to tying the net.
Ixchel carefully cut away the hair and silk to free Liliana’s hand. The snick, snick near her ears made Liliana’s eyes burn, but she was glad to have her hand freed.
“I could just cut away the pieces of your hair that are tangled with silk?” Her lilting South American accent made the words sound like gentle music.
“Yes, Mamãe. Please.” Liliana’s tense shoulders relaxed a little. At least she would get to keep some of her hair.
Solifu clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Your hair will be a dozen lengths. You will look like a crazy person.”
Liliana’s ears and cheeks heated. Insanity was a problem her kind was prone to that got spider seers killed. Women in her family who lost touch with reality had been killed by their own sisters.
“What do you want?” Ixchel’s deep sympathetic voice rumbled next to Liliana’s ear. “Shall I cut it all short?”
“Yes.” Tears rolled down Liliana’s cheeks, even as she said it. The scissors cut away the hair she had just started to grow out from the last time she got silk tangled in it.
Ixchel gave her a quick hug when she was done. “You look cute with short hair, Kitten. Ignore the other children.”
Solifu nodded to her. “The opinion of others is far less important than your actions. Be careful with your silk from now on and you can grow your hair as long as you like.”
Liliana left the caravan, ducked under two others, and wedged herself as tiny as she could against the wagon wheel of a third, not caring about the grit under her knees. Then she stopped suppressing the heartbroken sobs.
Her elegant adult sister, Isabella, stepped down from the wagon. She had her own caravan, as the great Madame Bella who could see your future in your hand or your stars. Liliana, both her mothers, her father, and her two youngest brothers, Jason and Petros, all shared their wagon. It was much bigger, of course, but privacy and quiet were impossible goals. Liliana gravitated toward Isabella’s wagon. It often felt like a point of peace in her chaotic life. She had come here instinctively to nurse her pain.
Isabella squatted down beside her wooden step, carefully tucking her pretty skirts up out of the dirt, and peered under the wagon. “Why are you crying?” Her voice was flat, without inflection as usual. Liliana couldn’t tell if her sister was angry or disappointed or merely curious.
When Liliana told her what was wrong, Isabella put her head to one side as she often did when thinking or remembering. “I had the same problem when I was little. Come. I have something to show you.”
Liliana wiped her face with her sleeve and followed her sister into the shadowy interior of Isabella’s wagon.
“Sit,” she told Liliana, who slid into a built-in bench around the small fold-out table.
Isabella fetched a beautiful decorative glass bottle from one of the storage cupboards that lined the walls. She set it down on the table and sat next to Liliana.
“Watch, now.” Isabella touched the spinneret in her wrist and pulled back her finger, extending a line of sticky fresh spider silk from the tiny hole. A quick twist of her wrist put the silk into her other hand. She carefully pulled and tied and played with the silk, making cat’s cradles of it and tiny nets like the giant one of rope Solifu had been repairing.
Liliana watched, fascinated by the ease and grace, where she was so clumsy.
A final twist of wrist and hand cut off the flow of silk, leaving the little net free. Isabella wrapped it around itself until it was a tiny ball, never getting stuck.
Liliana nodded, imitated the movement of her sister’s hands, without pulling out any silk. It would take practice, but knowing how to keep her silk under control would help a lot in keeping it out of her hair.
Then Isabella opened the pretty bottle. It smelled wonderfully of thyme and lavender.
“Now, for when you make a mistake.” Isabella’s hair was straight and sleek, shimmering like a raven’s wing, where Liliana’s dull black hair tended toward wild curls, and frequently, frizz. Isabella deliberately tangled sticky fresh webbing in that lock of shiny blue-black hair.
“No!” little Liliana exclaimed.
Isabella chuckled. “It’s all right.” She got a few drops of the nice-smelling oil on her fingers and rubbed it over the webbing, then finger combed her hair. The webbing let loose and came away easily. “There, spiderling. See? For you.”
Reverently, Liliana accepted the bottle of oil from her sister.
Liliana blinked her fourth eyes and looked around the forest just outside the border of Fort Liberty. She stood still, frozen in the moment after she ducked under the line of webbing. She had no idea how long she’d stood there half bent over.
She had jumped time unintentionally. That hadn’t happened in a few years. Instead of her wayward vision controlling her mind, Liliana had tamed her vision over many painstaking years of exercising her gift every day with clients to where her mind controlled it.
Most of the time.
She’d long since used all the oil her sister gave her, but the pretty little glass bottle sat in a place of honor on one of her bookshelves. She’d refilled it many times.
The fact that Liliana unwillingly saw visions of a treasured childhood moment with Isabella made her wonder if she might see her older sister again soon. It had been a long time, and when visions overtook her that strongly, they often indicated the hand of fate in action.
Or maybe that was wishful thinking. She hadn’t heard from her sister in more than a decade.
Her two brothers who escaped Europe with her, Petros and Jason, had grown old and moved away to the North Carolina coast. She didn’t know their surviving families.
Before Pete, Sergeant Giovanni, and Detective Jackson accused her of murder, she hadn’t been lonely simply from a lack of friends. The remaining members of her once numerous and boisterous family had died, or faded and then scattered, leaving her behind.
