Part 3 (2/2)

”What?” Sebastian asked. ”You're going to answer it? Now?”

Thing was, I'd set all the wedding related calls to that song. I'd been having such a h.e.l.l of a time connecting with the band to discuss play lists and such, I didn't want to miss it.

Tereza moaned.

I glanced at the screen. It was the band. ”I've got to take this,” I told Sebastian. ”It's about the wedding.”

”You're f.u.c.king kidding me,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air.

”Sorry.” I mouthed. I turned away slightly and connected. ”h.e.l.lo?”

There was good news/bad news, the band's manager explained. The good news was that the band got a record contract. The bad news was that the stress was breaking them up. The good news was they had a replacement lined up for me. The bad news was it was a polka band.

”How is that good news exactly?” I shouted. My guest list was under the age of sixty, mostly, and I 'd desperately wanted a band that could play our song. I doubted Rob Zombie's ”Dragula,” sounded the same on an accordion.

”Hang up,” Sebastian demanded. ”Hang up the d.a.m.n phone.”

Sebastian was right. I couldn't cope with this right now, not standing ankle deep in snow in a graveyard. ”I'll have to call you back,” I told the manager. I hung up.

”Sometimes I rue the day I gave you that blasted contraption,” Sebastian said.

”I had to answer it. I'd been trying all week to get ahold of those people, and now they've canceled.” Turning around, I noticed Tereza was gone. ”Wait, where'd she go?” I asked Sebastian, as I slipped the cell back into my pocket.

Sebastian, who had been watching me with his mouth agape, turned to where Tereza had been standing. ”Oh, great,” he said.

”I can't believe you answered the phone. Now she got away!”

”And we have an oompah band!”

He opened his mouth and then closed it a few times. Finally, he said, ”What, like, polka music?”

I nodded.

”Well, this is a disaster,” Sebastian muttered, though I didn't think he meant the band. Leaning his b.u.t.t against one of the marble monuments, he crossed his arms and glanced over the cornfield, no doubt using his preternatural senses to check for signs of Tereza's escape.

I hugged myself as well. I was upset about Tereza, of course, but my mind kept returning to the music situation. The wedding was only two weeks away, and I'd already started having nightmares about it. My hands started shaking. For once in my life, I'd had every detail all planned out. In advance. Now everything was falling apart.

”I just don't see her,” he said.

All I saw was dark and more dark and the impressive array of the Milky Way above, but I knew Sebastian could see miles in this light.

”That's strange,” I agreed. ”She moved all creepy crawly at the restaurant. You wouldn't think she could go far like that.”

I closed my eyes for a second and reopened them in second sight. Before I bonded with Lilith, using my magical senses always took a few moments of prep and visualization. Now it came, quite literally, in the blink of an eye.

I could see more too. For instance, though it was black on black, I noticed instantly the huge bend Tereza's leaving had folded into the fiber of time and s.p.a.ce. ”She disappeared,” I said.

”I know,” Sebastian muttered. ”It's weird.”

”No, I mean she vanished. Teleported. Poofed!”

”Oh,” Sebastian said in a tone that was both intrigued and spooked. Teleportation was a major skill for anyone corporeal; I have never heard of anyone who could do it. I glanced at Benjamin, who I could see clearly with my magical eye. I was about to ask him what he saw in the astral plane, but I thought better of it. He stood in front of a tilted headstone that simply said, Wife. He looked alternately saddened and angry. Every time his expression turned angry, his face became that of a monster: hollowed cheeks, empty eye sockets, and twisted, furious lips.

I had a feeling the house was going to get a good tossing around tonight.

I took a deep breath, reminding myself to deal with one thing at a time. ”Just how powerful is Tereza, Sebastian?”

He shrugged his shoulder and glanced off to the side. Through my magical vision, Sebastian always seemed paler, hungrier- more dead, actually. The black hole where his aura should be stood out starkly with its absence. ”Stronger than me,” he said.

”Seriously? Is that possible? You're a vampire!”

”There are things stronger than vampires. Remember the Trickster G.o.d?” How could I forget him? Micah had been the one that triggered my bonding with Lilith-plus he was a total hottie. ”Anyway,” Sebastian continued, ”Tereza's people have been practicing magic for a long time.”

Gypsy magic: If there really was a famtrad-a family tradition of hereditary magic-Romany blood would be one. I blinked myself back to normal vision. Lilith rippled across my skin, itching for a fight. The band might have canceled, but if we didn't track down Tereza soon, we could have a scene like this at the church. I could live with a polka band. My friends would think it was retro and hip. But the tele-porting zombie ex was another problem, one I did not want popping in on my wedding day.

”We have to find Tereza, Sebastian. Now. But she could be anywhere,” I said, considering out loud. ”I say let's go to the source.”

Sebastian perked up. ”You mean blood magic?”

”No,” I said. ”Matyas.”

Third Aspect: Square

KEY WORDS: Combative, Individualistic

We found Matyas at Holy Grounds. Besides hanging out with Izzy, Matyas and William had taken to playing games like speed chess and Go at the coffee shop. Their obsession with those sorts of tactical/intellectual pastimes had gotten so intense that I'd begun to suspect William's latest new religion was strategy. My theory was bolstered by the fact that just the other day I 'd caught William poring over Sun Tzu's The Art of War during his lunch hour.

The coffee shop was nearly empty. After the briskness of the evening air, the peppermint -mocha warmth felt a bit stifling. The heat steamed the ice particles in my hair.

Snowflakes had been stenciled on the window in that ubiquitous powdery spray paint. The rest of the place had been decorated with everything from Santa-cap-wearing Buddhas to Chanukah menorahs. The only thing traditionally Christma.s.sy was the electric faux fireplace set up in the back by the couches and the constant Christmas music that streamed over the speakers.

Izzy looked up from behind the bar when the door swung open. Izzy always reminded me of that famous bust of Nefert.i.ti, especially now that her dreads had grown to reach her shoulder, and she often held her hair away from her face with a scarf. Her skin was the warm color of the mochas she served, and her features had a regal cut I deeply envied. She'd been experimenting with fas.h.i.+on too. Tonight, Izzy went for that whole naughty British schoolgirl look and wore a man's b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt, a necktie, and a knee-length pleated wool skirt. Seeing us, she smiled. I waved back, but I couldn't quite bring myself to smile in return. I was on the warpath. My wedding was potentially at stake, and someone was going to pay.

Matyas and William perched on opposite chairs hunched over a game of Risk. William's hair was short-cropped and frosted blond. I wasn't quite sure what kind of image he was going for, but with the little round gla.s.ses perched on the end of his nose, he looked a bit like a s.e.xed-up Radar O'Reilly from M*A*S*H or James Spader in the movie Stargate.

Izzy came out from behind the bar to join Sebastian and me as we approached them. ”What's going on?” she asked.

Matyas glanced up. From what I could tell, he'd taken most of Europe and Asia and was clearly advancing on the South Pacific. William's extracurricular reading didn't seem to be helping him.

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