Katie MacAlister - Playing with Fire

‘‘You’re the only woman I know who could refer to the act of taking an aquarium hostage as an ‘unfortunate incident.’ How many fish did you kidnap this time?’’

‘‘I didn’t!’’ she protested, a righteous look on her face. ‘‘I promised you faithfully after that incident I wouldn’t try to free any more ocean mammals, and I haven’t, I swear I haven’t. It’s just that… I… we might have blown up a couple of helicopters and maybe two or three ships.’’

My jaw dropped a few inches as I stared at her. ‘‘You what ?’’

‘‘They were baby-seal hunters!’’ she said, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘‘Horrible, evil, cruel people who wanted to go out and kill innocent, sweet, furry little baby seals.’’

‘‘Oh, my god,’’ I said, sliding down the chest of drawers to the floor. ‘‘How many people did you kill?’’

‘‘May!’’ she gasped, her face horrified. ‘‘No one! What sort of a person do you take me for? We bombed the helicopters and ships when they were empty.’’

‘‘Well, thank the twelve gods and all their little minions for small miracles,’’ I said, relaxing slightly. ‘‘I take it the ‘we’ you mentioned were your usual cohorts in crime?’’

She lifted her chin. ‘‘My fellow naiads and I only have the best interests of the planet at our hearts.’’

‘‘Uh-huh. So who’s blackmailing you?’’ I asked, willing to forgo a lecture on the impropriety of bombing things in order to get to the bottom of the situation.

‘‘I think it was one of the people at the fur processor. Last weekend when I was in London, I received a note saying that there was a film of myself and the other naiads at the airport in Nova Scotia, bombing the helicopters.’’

I groaned and rubbed my forehead.

‘‘The blackmailer said that unless I give him something, he’ll turn the tape and other evidence over to the mundane police.’’

‘‘Oh, gods.’’ I closed my eyes, imagining the horrible hue and cry that would follow if Cyrene and her fellow naiads were brought to trial in a mortal police court. ‘‘What is it exactly the blackmailer wants you to give him?’’

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 give you?’’

‘‘A week. That was three days ago.’’

‘‘Which gives us four days… hmm. I wonder if he knows about the connection to Mei Ling?’’

‘‘I don’t think so. He’d mention that if he did, wouldn’t he?’’ Her expression held a faint flush of hope.

I sighed again. ‘‘I suppose that’s one small blessing to be thankful for.’’

‘‘What are you going to do?’’ Cyrene asked, watching as I took out a small notebook and made a few notes about the blackmailer.

‘‘Nothing right now. I have to take care of this situation first, then we can decide what to do with your blackmailer. We have a little bit of time to figure out what we’ll do.’’

‘‘All right. I feel much better knowing you’re going to take care of things for me,’’ she said with a sincere smile.

‘‘Do you have the original letter he sent you?’’

She nodded. ‘‘It’s in my room.’’

‘‘If he doesn’t have any idea of who I really am, then I don’t think we have much to worry about. I’ll probably be able to fob him off one way or another. Bring me the letter, and I’ll take a look at it a little later. Right now we have to focus on the immediate task at hand. Did you call that holiday rental place for me?’’ I asked.

She perked up at the change of subject. Cyrene might be a trouble magnet, but she really did have a pure heart, and was quite happy at the thought of being of use to me. ‘‘Yes. They said the house is empty now, but people are expected in late tonight or tomorrow.’’