Magic Strikes - By Ilona Andrews Page 0,68

cut. She stepped into the apartment and peered at me as I closed the door.

"Indonesian," she announced, shifting a tote bag on her shoulder.

"What?"

"You were trying to figure out what kind of 'nese I am. Indonesian."

"I'm Kate."

"Dali."

She looked to where Jim sat. As she swept past me, I caught a glimpse of a book in her tote bag: a long, lean blond man brandishing an improbably enormous sword posing with three girls strategically arranged at his feet. One of the girls had cat ears.

Dali fixed Jim with her disconcerting stare. "You owe me. If he finds out I'm here, I'll be dead meat."

He who? He better not be Curran.

"I take responsibility," Jim said.

"Where are the corpses?" Dali asked.

"Behind you."

Dali turned and stumbled over the four-armed freak's legs, and would've executed a beautiful nosedive if she were an ordinary human. As it was, she managed to jump away and land with perfect balance if not perfect grace. Shapeshifter reflexes to the rescue.

Dali adjusted her glasses and shot me an irate look. "I'm not that blind," she said. "I'm absentminded."

Perhaps she was also telepathic.

"No," she said. "I'm just not stupid."

Okay.

Dali surveyed the four-armed corpse. "Oh boy. Polymelic symmetry. Any other supernumerary body parts? And did you have to hack his arms off?"

"Yes, I did. He wouldn't go through the door."

"You say it like you're proud of it."

I was proud of it. It was an example of quick thinking in a difficult situation.

Dali shrugged her tote to the floor, knelt by the corpse, and stared into the gaping hole where the creature's heart used to reside. Jim had really done a number on it. "Tell me everything."

I described the ward, the jungle, the flying palace, the ruins, the stone chariot with multiheaded driver, and the fight, with an occasional comment from Jim. She nodded, raised the corpse's front left arm to take a look at the back set, frowned . . .

"So who isn't supposed to know you're here?" I asked. Please don't be Curran, please don't be Curran . . .

"The Beast Lord," Jim said.

Damn it.

"Technically she's under house arrest."

"What for?"

"I went for a drive." Dali picked up the corpse's foot and studied the claws. "Nice and pliant.

No rigor mortis at all."

"He put you under house arrest because you went for a drive?"

"She slipped a roofie to her bodyguard, hot-wired a car, and went drag racing on Buzzard's Highway. In the dark." Jim's face held all the warmth of an iceberg.

"You're just upset that I made Theo look stupid." Dali dropped the hand. "It's not my fault that your lethal killing machine was so excited by the prospect of getting his hands on my tiny boy-breasts, he forgot to watch his drink. Quite frankly, I don't see what the big deal is."

"You're legally blind, you can't pass the exam to get a license, and you drive like shit." Jim's lip wrinkled in a silent snarl. "You're a menace."

"Drivers on Buzzard don't come there to be safe. They come there for thrills. If they knew I was legally blind, it would just make things more interesting for them. It's my body. I can do whatever I want with it. If I want to get in a wreck, then I should be able to do so."

"Yes, but you drove to Buzzard's Highway," I said. I really needed more coffee. "What if you wrecked on the way and hurt yourself, or worse, hurt somebody else, another driver or a pedestrian, a kid crossing the street?"

Dali blinked. "You know, that is precisely what Curran said. Almost word for word." She sighed. "Let's agree that, in retrospect, it wasn't one of my brightest moments. Do you have anything else besides the corpses?"

Jim handed her the rolled-up mural. She pulled the paper open and frowned. "Here, you hold this end, and, Jim, you hold this end. Okay, separate."

She actually wanted me to move. She must've been out of her mind. We walked apart until the paper was unrolled. She glanced at it for a second, nodded, and waved her hand. "You may let go. So, do you have any ideas as to what corner of mythology your friend belongs?"

I took a wild stab in the dark. "Hindu. First, we have a jungle, the ruins of what looked like a Dravidian temple to me, then a stone chariot drawn by elephants, and a humanoid with many arms and heads. We also have a tiger monster and he has four arms. Not that many mythologies feature extra sets of arms

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