Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

An excited murmur passed through the crowd. Whispers too. Some knew who Zee was. Most didn't, but they soon would. His name sailed through the air, spoken over and over again as though in prayer, to summon or worship him.

The veins in Zee's wings glowed like frozen purple lightning strikes.

With all the spotlights trained on him, Zee turned to the band and called out. "‘Lady Marmalade,' you feel me?" The conductor nodded and Zee's dazzling smile sparkled. "Let's give that guy a few seconds to do what he does best, while I seduce you lovely people." He strode to the front ropes. "Don't worry, I'll keep it clean. Except for you, Karen. You look as though you need some demon in your diet."

Gasps hissed. Zee's tone maybe needed some work for this crowd.

I glanced at Victor's face and caught his amused smirk. "You did say distraction," he remarked.

"Settle down, sweethearts," Zee laughed, and began to pace the stage. Even those lengthy strides were part of the act, ensuring all eyes stayed glued on him.

I couldn't make out Cain's expression now all the lights were on the ring, but there was no doubt in my mind he'd be watching Zee.

The conductor said he was right. Zee bounced back toward the center of the ring. "Lights!" The lights turned purple, Zee struck a pose—head down, wings back—and the opening beats to "Lady Marmalade" boomed through the speakers, Moulin Rouge version.

"Now's our chance," Victor said.

"Yes. Right."

Zee clicked his fingers. The beat kicked in. He lifted his head and began to sing. The magic in his voice traveled down that mic and filled the air, just like it had at Razorsedge the night we'd freed his friends from Seb. But out here in the open air, bathed in light, he was amplified, as though the night itself were his stage and Zee its brightest star.

He worked his body to the song—strutting, rocking. He crouched and ran his hands down his legs, then rose and suggestively caressed his swaying hips. He was sex appeal in motion. And not a single gaze in the junkyard arena could look away.

"Adam?" Victor urged.

Taking my eyes off him took a huge amount of effort, but as I scanned the crowd, everyone was enthralled. "Let's go."

We left the table, scooting to the edge of the venue, and hurried around to the back, where the cables passed under statuesque, awestruck staff. Even the guards had left their posts to watch Zee, lured by his voice then captured by his physical allure.

"Zodiac truly is breathtaking," Victor said.

The admiration in his voice had me beaming. "Aren't you glad you checked in at our crazy hotel? "

His eyes shone as he strode alongside me. "I thank fate every night, Adam."

Fate. I hid my wince. There was that word again. Along with destiny. Both were getting harder to deny.

We had a free run to the harvester and found it tucked behind a pile of old tires. Victor flung off its cover, and there the rotund machine was, humming and pulsing. Tiny electric sparks fizzled where the cables attached to its side. The magic-bead tray was empty. Hopefully it hadn't siphoned off enough energy to make any.

Now I knew what it did—stealing Lost Ones power—the sight of it made my skin crawl. "Do you think it's harvesting Zee's power?"

"Without a doubt."

Well, that was definitely not allowed. "Nope." I grabbed one of the thick cables.

"Adam, wait, we should carefully detach?—"

I yanked it out. The thin wires making up its girth spat sparks and curled like dead spider's legs.

Victor tensed, as though something terrible might be about to happen.

I thrust the cable to arm's length and cringed away. But nothing had caught fire, or exploded.

"Well, that appears safe," Victor sighed.

The barrel-like harvester continued to chug.

Victor stepped forward and flicked a toggle on its side. The machine grumbled and died.

"What was that?" I asked.

"I surmise it's an off switch."

"That works too, I guess." I flung the curled cable to the ground, then grasped the second cable and heaved, but it was stuck fast. "A hand?" A few sparks continued to spit from this cable too, so maybe it took a while to power down. Either way, I wasn't leaving it connected .

"I rather think it best to not pull on cables carrying tens of thousands of volts."

"It's off." I straddled the cable and got both hands around it. "Just help me out here."

"Adam, the sparks suggest it's still channeling enormous amounts of energy."

"Which is why we need to disconnect it. I don't want it doing anything weird to Zee." Whose act was reaching its dramatic crescendo. We needed to make sure this thing wasn't going to spring any nasty surprises on us.

Victor rolled up his sleeves and stepped over the cable behind me. "Very well." He lifted it between our legs, so we supported the cable's hefty weight between us.

"Ready. On three. One, two, th?—"

We heaved in one sudden jerk, and the cable popped from the machine. Its wiry ends splayed, sparking angrily. I dropped it and staggered back. The detached cable bucked, with Victor attached. He dropped it and sprang away. The cable lashed and writhed, like an untethered water hose.

The machine gave another shudder and a few blue sparks escaped its bolted seams. A bolt sprang off and shot into a nearby trash tower.

Victor's eyes widened in alarm. "I have the sense we should rapidly vacate the area."

"Good call."

We hurried back through the gawking staff, and returned to our table as Zee's performance reached its fantastic crescendo.

His voice rocked the ringside, his wings glowed, he strutted and punched the air, then as the final beats played, he dropped to his knees, arched his back, and put everything he had into the closing climax. The lights blazed, his voice stroked the souls of every person here, and a sudden blast of electric sparks exploded behind him in a crazy firework finale that may possibly have been the harvester machine exploding.

We couldn't know for certain, but its timing was epic.

Every single person in the audience shot to their feet, cheered and clapped in rousing wonder. Even Commissioner Musashi was on his feet, in love with Zee just like all the other guests.

All but one.

Gideon Cain remained seated, puffing on his cigar, unmoved by Zee's spectacular show.

But he didn't know we'd broken his magic-bead machine.

Take that, Mr. Evil Sorcerer.

Finally, we'd fought back.

And he wouldn't know it was us.

Unless I went over there and gave him a piece of my mind...

Zee rose and took a breathless bow. The audience roared, demanding more.

Just a little chat with Cain while Zee was wrapping up... A few little words, dragon to sorcerer.

"Adam, is that... Detective Somers?" Victor asked, dropping a name I didn't expect to hear.

"Huh?" I followed Victor's gaze, but didn't have to look far. A man clambered through the ringside ropes and tumbled into the ring with Zee. A man who looked a whole lot like Somers.

Zee spotted him, and his after-show grin faded. He tossed the mic back into the hand of the awestruck announcer, and crossed the ring to Somers. Whatever was said between them, neither seemed happy. Somers shoved Zee's shoulder, and Zee's eyes narrowed. The flustered Somers was not backing down.

"We need to get over there," I said, sensing trouble.

"I'll deal with it." Victor blurred from my side, appearing in the ring. Now he was lit under the spotlights too. I figured he'd use his voice , and Somers would skulk off. But as the announcer tried to follow Zee's act with talk of what was to follow, nobody listened. All eyes were still on Zee, Somers, and now Victor too.

I glanced over at Cain. Sure enough, he'd sat back in his chair, and smirked around his cigar, content in the knowledge he knew exactly what was about to happen.

The announcer sauntered over to the three of them. "Bring your hands together for our next fighters, everyone! Zodiac, and the SFPD's Detective Somers!"

Zee snorted, and through the mic I heard him scoff. "Sorry to pop your balloon, but I'm not fighting that human. Or anyone. My show's over, folks."

The announcer covered his mic, and said something that had Zee's wings drooping. Zee's gaze shot to me, pleading for help.

Oh no. What was happening here? What had been said? Why was Zee backing down?

Zee couldn't fight Somers. He'd shred the man in seconds. The whole idea was ridiculous. Not to mention illegal. The announcer grabbed Zee's hand, raised it up, and declared, "The man whose love has been denied versus the demon he adores. Join us for the next round to see if love or death prevails."

Death ?! The crowd went wild, desperate to get their next Zee fix, while Somers stood in the ring, blinking doped-up eyes into the bright lights.

Zee yanked his hand free, vaulted over the ropes and along with Victor, dashed back to my table.

"What's going on?"

"I have to fight Somers," Zee panted, picking up his wine. "Or the commissioner's going to lock me up." He tossed the glass back and gulped it down.

"Wait . . . That's not right . . . He can't do that. "

But even as I said it, and turned my head toward Cain, I knew what I'd find. Gideon Cain sitting smugly at that table, like a king on a throne, smoking his cigar, sipping his wine. He'd planned this. Somehow. He'd known we'd show, and he'd used Commissioner Musashi's hatred to set Zee up.

"If you hurt the detective," Victor said. "They'll arrest you. This is a lose-lose scenario."

Zee dropped into the chair, pulled his top hat off, and tossed it onto our table. "I'm fucked, whatever I do."

"Don't do it," I told him. "Don't play their stupid game. They can't arrest you for not fighting."

Zee raised his gaze, but all the humor and afterglow from his act had vanished from his face. "Adam, they'll arrest you too, if I don't."