True Colors

Chapter Seven

Love

She got to her feet, anxious to do something, anything, to push the news away. Gideon rose to stand beside her. He rubbed her back as he asked, “Can you think of anything Stewart or his mother might have said in the last few days that might have seemed different or out of place?”

He sounded so calm she wanted to scream at him. Stewart and Leigh might have been murdered in the most horrible way even as she and Gideon had been making love. She put both hands over her mouth, shaking with the effort to find some kind of control.

“Remember, Alice, we don’t know what happened to them,” he said. Rogers and Welch were pretty far down on the alphabet. If the killer had taken them, he might hold on to them until he had his seventh sacrifice. “The only thing we know is that they’re missing. They may not be dead.”

She looked up to find Gideon watching her closely. There was pain in his eyes. Even though he didn’t know any of the people, he was hurting too, hurting for her. The sight clicked her back into balance. “Give me a minute,” she said, “I need to calm down so I can concentrate.”

He nodded. “I’ll make us some coffee.”

He walked into the kitchen, and some other time she was going to remember with relish the sight of his nude figure moving around her apartment with total confidence. For now she simply scooped up the blanket and her shredded nightgown and took them to her bedroom to dump on the bed. Even though it was still full dark outside, the illuminated clock on her bedside table read 7:08 am. She felt she was marking the time’s passing with each dark event and she would never forget the numbers. Nightmare, 3:23. Missing friends, 7:08.

She took a quick two-minute shower to sluice off the evidence of their mating, ran her toothbrush over her teeth, then she dressed in the soft, comfortable clothes she had worn the night before. By the time she had finished, she was able to think again.

She walked into the kitchen. Gideon had slipped on his jeans but remained barefoot and bare-chested. The coffee had finished brewing, and he had already poured two cups. He handed one to her with a quick kiss, the short stubble from his unshaven face scraping her chin. “I make it strong,” he warned.

“That’s okay, I need strong right now,” she said. She brought the cup to her lips and sipped. The black, pungent brew was like a kick in the teeth. That was a good thing. She cleared her throat. “I’m just going to talk, like I did last night. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said. He leaned back against the counter, drank coffee and watched her.

“Stewie was so excited to be going to see his grandma and grandpa. They can’t afford to make the trip very often, so this visit was a big deal. He had his backpack packed by Wednesday. His mom lets him carry whatever toys and books he wants in his carry-on so he has things to keep him busy on the flight. Leigh and Jim had just gotten engaged. They were going to break the news to Leigh’s parents once they got to California.”

“They’re on a tight budget?” Gideon asked. She nodded. “How does Leigh afford private schooling for Stewart? Or is that why their budget is so tight?”

“I think Leigh said once that her parents help with the tuition,” she said. She drank more of the bitter brew and kept going. Now that she had started talking, she didn’t seem able to stop. “And I’m sure they qualify for a hardship scholarship, which would reduce the fees. In the group we all help each other out as we can, you know, according to the situation and what the other person will accept. Free babysitting or whatever. Sometimes we barter. Leigh was pretty thrilled to get a ride to JFK airport instead of having to pay for a shuttle…”

Her voice trailed away. Gideon’s coffee cup came down on the counter. He asked calmly, “Do you know who was supposed to give them a ride?”

She shook her head. “I know Alex offered,” she said. “I did too. I don’t know if anybody else did or whose offer they accepted.”

“Okay,” he said. “We need to talk to Schaffer and everybody else to see if we can pinpoint who saw them last.” He spoke over his shoulder as he turned away. “I’m going to jump in the shower really quick. Sweetheart, do you mind going to the station with me for a while?”

“Not at all,” she said. She stared after him as he strode out of the room. As they had talked, his Power had spiked, sharp and sulfurous, even as his face and demeanor remained soldier-calm. She had said something that interested him, maybe interested him a lot, but he hadn’t seen fit to share whatever it was with her.

Her feelings weren’t hurt. She was willing to wait and find out why he had shut down.

She just wanted to know what it was she had said.

Gideon scooped up his pile of stuff—gun, clothes, toiletry bag and phone. Moving fast, he hit the bathroom, shut the door and turned on the shower. Soon as the sound of the water filled the room, he hit Bayne on speed dial.

Bayne answered on the first ring. “What’s up?”

Gideon asked, “Where’s Schaffer?”

“Alex Schaffer? Last I heard, his guards reported him moving around inside his townhouse, safe and sound. All the chameleons are at home, except for the three missing and the ones who we’ve confirmed have made it to Arizona. Why?”

“I don’t know,” he growled. “He just keeps coming up in conversation. It’s piqued my interest.” He told Bayne rapidly about the conversation with Alice. “All the chameleons need to be questioned again. Alice said Schaffer offered Welch and the Rogers a ride to the airport. She did too, but we know she didn’t take them.”

Bayne swore. “We’ve been calling all the limo services to see if the Rogers had booked a trip with one of them.”

Holding his cell to his ear with one hand, Gideon unfastened his jeans with the other and jerked them off. Sixty-second shower, no shave. He and Alice could hit the door in under five minutes. He said to Bayne, “We’ve been focused on the chameleons as the victims. Thing is, one of them might also be the killer.”

Alice pushed the living room furniture back into place. She straightened the coffee table in front of the couch. Someone knocked on the front door, a quiet, tentative tap that had her nearly leaping out of her skin.

Her heart still knocking hard, she moved to flip on the outside light and peer through the keyhole.

Alex stood outside in a black wool coat and muffler, hands under his arms and his shoulders hunched against the whip of wind, snow and ice. He was a quiet, unassuming-looking man in his early sixties, with receding gray hair. Usually he was meticulously groomed, but now he looked haggard and so miserable, she found herself unlocking and opening the door.

She said, “Alex, what on earth are you doing here?”

He gave her a sad look as he said, “I didn’t wake you, did I? I have been fretting about you all night. I finally had to come see if you were all right.”

“For heaven’s sake, come in.” She stepped back and opened the door wide.

Alex ducked his head and stepped forward. The wind blasted down the steps and into the opening. It brought with it a whip of snow and outside scent—

—and a faint chemical taint…but no scent at all from Alex.

All her thoughts flatlined as she stumbled back. Stupidly, she tried to close the door again.

And Alex’s step turned into a lunge as he brought his gloved hands out from underneath his arms. A glint of light came off a long, thin knife he gripped in one hand, while he slammed the door wide open with the other.

“Oh gods,” she said.

Alex’s sad gaze had turned bright with a fanatical light. He said, “Yes, Alice, oh gods. And Abraham said to the Lord, ‘Behold, here I am.’ It is the most holy sacrifice to give the gods those you love. And the Lord said, ‘In blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven’…”

She flung out a hand, grabbed hold of something, screamed, “You crazy murdering bastard!”

Nearby, there was a smash of splintering wood.

Alex had brought his knife hand back for a killing blow. “Only show me your will, gods, as I give to you another one of my own…”

She flung what she had grabbed at him. It was a small potted plant. The pot hit Alex in the chest with a spray of dirt. He flinched and grabbed for her throat. The knife arched—

A silent behemoth hit Alex with a body slam that sent the smaller man crashing to the ground. At the same time, Alice was knocked back with a flattened hand shoved into her chest. She lost her balance, fell and scuttled away from the doorway with her head ducked.

Everything went still. She dared to look behind her.

Alex lay on his back. His throat was torn out, his knife hand crushed beyond recognition.

The monster from Haley’s apartment crouched over the body. The planes and angles of his face and body were all wrong. There was one difference: this time he was quite nude and dripping wet.

He bared his teeth, icy gaze alight with incredulous fury. “You opened your front door to him?”

Alice threw up her hands and cried, “He was my boss!”

Her cry turned into a sob, and suddenly the monster became Gideon again. He dove forward, grabbed her and clenched her to his chest. She buried her face in his hot, wet skin. He was breathing hard, a fine tremor rippling through his muscles.

Gideon said grimly, “Well, he’s not anymore.”

The time came around again for the annual Festival of the Masque, where all creatures, Elder Races or gods, pay homage to the dance that drives and sustains the universe. Planets swirl around their suns, galaxies spin in space. Even tiny atoms joined in the movement.

Every winter solstice, Cuelebre Tower put on one of the most lavish spectacles in the world, complete with a horde of paparazzi and a red carpet. Celebrities and dignitaries from humankind and all the Elder Races attended. A crowd of two thousand attendees wore extraordinary, designer jeweled costumes and masks that glittered with onyx and diamonds. Cuelebre’s public hall was decorated with great swathes of ivory and gold cloth, towering ice sculptures, and champagne flowed like water.

A traditional Masque officially began with a procession of the gods and ended with everyone unmasking at midnight, although most of the parties continued till dawn. Most gatherings had volunteers dress up to play the part of the gods. Usually at the school fundraiser, the gods were played by the school trustees. Here, she had no doubt that the procession of the gods would be an elaborate affair played by professional actors.

Alice stared at everything and everyone with wide eyes. Now and then, she caught glimpses across the hall of Dragos Cuelebre, Lord of the Wyr, and his beautiful new mate. In that striking way that mated Wyr had, they moved in sync together, always aware of where the other one was. Alice and Gideon would develop the same ability over time.

At first Alice had been reluctant to come to the Tower Masque. Along with the rest of her community, she was grieving for her friends who had died the week before, and still in shock from discovering Alex Schaffer had been responsible for the murder of ten chameleons. In light of recent events, Broadway Elementary had canceled its annual fundraiser as the school trustees struggled to regroup and look for new leadership.

But Gideon had gotten two tickets to the Tower Masque at a time when no one could beg, borrow or steal them. He had coaxed, and she had capitulated, and now she was glad she had come just to witness the sheer spectacle of the event. They had made a pact to stay until the unmasking at midnight. It was their first official date.

After catching a glimpse of all the extravagant finery in the hall, she felt self-conscious, having worn a simple black sheath dress, high-heeled, peep-toed black patent leather pumps, and a plain black satin half-mask. She had bought contact lenses just for the occasion.

She tugged at her slim skirt. She hoped she didn’t look too plain. As if he had read her mind, Gideon bent his head to say in her ear, “You are the most elegant and stunning woman present.”

She turned to give him a startled grin. His icy pale gaze met and held hers with a private smile. Clad in a sleek black tux and a plain black half-mask that matched hers, he was so lethally sexy she could hardly believe he was hers. “I just hope I’m doing my handsome escort justice.”

Her escort, her mate. The wonder of it stilled her breath.

He tugged at one of her corkscrew curls and released it, watching as it sprang back into place. He never seemed to tire of doing that. She didn’t have the heart to tell him how much it irritated her. He whispered, “I couldn’t be more proud to be your mate.”

The crowd fell away, and it was just the two of them. She reached up to touch the corner of his straight, sexy mouth, and whispered back, “Me, too.”

Then suddenly they were no longer alone. A brawny, tanned giant of a male had joined them. It was Gideon’s boss, Bayne. As Alice turned with Gideon to face the newcomer, she drew in a deep breath to brace herself against the impact of his presence. Like all immortal Wyr, Bayne radiated a ferocious energy. He hadn’t bothered with a mask, had already removed his tie, and his dress shirt was open at the throat.

Bayne said to Gideon, “The hell’s the matter with you, son? Go grab your mate a glass of champagne and some of those fancy-ass hors d’oeuvres before they’re all gone. “

Gideon met her gaze. He smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

He turned to Bayne, who said, “You better hurry. The procession is about to start. I’ll stay with her while you’re gone.”

They both watched Gideon wind his way through the crowd toward the refreshments. Then Bayne turned to her. “Good to see you, Alice. I’m glad you two decided to use the tickets. How are you doing?”

Bayne had given the tickets to Gideon? “It was a lovely gift,” she said. “I’m doing much better, thanks.”

To say she had not been at her best when she first met the gryphon was putting it mildly. She had held it together when she had really looked at Alex, the knife lying on the floor beside his sprawled form. After holding her so tightly he left bruises, Gideon had covered Alex’s face and shoulders with his bath towel, gone to dress and made phone calls. Alice had taken a seat at one end of her couch and remained calm and still when Bayne had arrived shortly after, questioned them both, and supervised the removal of the body. Then she had taken one look at the deep red pool of blood that had soaked into the carpet by her front door and slid into a complete meltdown.

Gideon had snatched her up and carried her out of the room, his face tight. She wasn’t sure who was responsible, but despite the blizzard and it being a Saturday before a major holiday, she’d had new carpet installed within the hour.

Now her cheeks darkened at the memory. She said to the sentinel towering beside her, “I’m sorry about how we first met.”

“I am, too,” Bayne said. He glanced down at her, regret in his rugged features. “I wish we had been able to catch the fucker before he got to you.”

She sent him a sidelong glance. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

The gryphon stood at ease. As he rested his hands on his hips, his jacket parted to reveal a glimpse of his two gun holsters. In the last week, with Gideon moving in, and his friends from both the WDVC and the army dropping by with the casual air of those hoping to be fed, Alice was growing used to the sight of large muscular people wandering around armed. She and Gideon had also bought a larger fridge and a larger dish set.

“I know what you meant,” said Bayne. “You found your friend murdered, discovered your mate and caught a killer, all in less than eighteen hours. To top it all off, the killer was someone you knew and had trusted for years. You think you weren’t entitled to throw a little bit of a fit?”

She chuckled. “Well, when you put it like that.” Then she sobered. “I keep trying to make sense of what Alex was saying at the end, and I can’t. I think he was quoting the Bible, of all things.”

“Don’t waste your energy on trying to make sense of it,” said Bayne. “If you’ll excuse my language, the dude was effing nuts. You wouldn’t believe what we found in the basement of his townhouse. He had made plans to start up the True Colors support group before he ever took that first trip down to Jacksonville seven years ago. He had books and scribblings from all the major religions, and prayers painted on the walls and ceilings. He’d added up and subtracted all kinds of numbers that told him the pope was the fricking antichrist. He had this whole messianic delusion going on, about repopulating the Earth with chameleon Wyr after he had sacrificed what he most loved to the gods—his people. He planned to keep on killing until he had gotten some kind of divine sign. I’m telling you—Whack. O.”

They had found more than books and scribbling in the basement. Stewart, his mother Leigh, and Jim Welch had been found bound and gagged, but alive. Alex’s guards had been looking to keep a killer out of his house, not to keep Alex inside. He had given them the slip by going out his back gate when he had come after Alice. If he had not been quite so obsessed with form and ritual, Stewie and his family wouldn’t have survived. As it was, he had told them once he had sacrificed Alice, he would be able to kill the rest of them over the next several days. Leigh told Alice, in a phone call several days later, that Alex had seemed astonished at their distress. He couldn’t understand why they weren’t aware of the honor he was bestowing upon them.

“It’s all so hard to believe,” Alice whispered. She shuddered and rubbed her bare arms. Alex had always been a little tight-assed, a little too buttoned up, but no one had ever conceived of him as being anything other than normal.

“Well, hell,” said the gryphon. He regarded her with chagrin. “Gideon’s gonna shoot me. This was supposed to be your night out for fun, and here I’ve got you looking like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“It’s all right,” she told him. “Talking it through is much better than trying to ignore it. It’s just going to take a while to process.”

She spotted Gideon’s light blond head over the crowd. He was working his way back to them. The joy she felt as she watched him approach was almost too much for her body to contain.

Bayne had also turned and caught sight of Gideon. The gryphon told her in a quiet voice, “We all think very highly of him. He’s one of the finest men I know.”

Her eyes fixed on her mate, Alice said, “He’s one of the finest men I know, too.”

At last Gideon reached them. He presented her with a plate piled high with delicacies and petit fours. In his other hand he cradled two glasses of champagne. “Sorry,” he said to Bayne as Alice took one of the glasses from him. “I didn’t think I could juggle three glasses without dropping something.”

“S’all right,” said Bayne. “Champagne’s not my drink.”

Gideon gave Alice a swift kiss. “What were you two talking about while I was gone?”

She and the gryphon looked at each other. “Mating,” she said. “And how fast it can hit.”

“I blame it on the air,” said Gideon. He winked at her. “There’s an awful lot of Wyr mating pheromones floating around these days.”

“Well, you both look very happy, so good on you,” said Bayne, with a hearty clap to Gideon’s shoulders that threatened the plate of food. “As for me, I just might start wearing a gas mask.”

At that moment, the crowd parted and the procession of the gods started. They were led by the god Taliesin who was portrayed this year by a slender male. Taliesin was followed in short order by the other gods, each sumptuously costumed, and the crowd in the hall swept into a low bow as they passed.

Alice couldn’t help but shiver as Azrael, the god of death, drew near. Old legends told that a god attended every Masque. If there were ever a time when death might appear, she thought, it would be at this Masque.

The elegant, glittering figure passed by. She sucked in a breath and called herself silly. The last in the procession was the goddess of love, Inanna. The tall, striking woman moved with regal sinuousness, a wild mane of waist-length blonde hair flowing back from a feline mask. Her gown had seven embroidered lions pulling seven chariots. As Inanna drew level, the goddess turned to look at them, almost as if she had heard Bayne speak. Alice thought she caught a glimpse of something vast and amused gazing at the gryphon out of the mask’s eyeholes. Alice shook her head sharply, and the strange vision passed.

Then the orchestra struck the first notes, all the participants took their places, and the dance began.