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With a deep breath, I calmed myself. Rome wasn’t built in a day. My physic powers might need a little more time and effort to grow. I couldn’t dismiss them after one lousy try.
I thought about the way my visions would yank at my core, as if a thread was tied to my spine. That seemed to be my power source. If I could replicate that feeling, maybe I could throw enough power into unlocking the cuffs. It was worth a shot.
Closing my eyes again, I pictured the cuffs and concentrated on that thread of power coming from deep within my belly. A warmth began to build, sharpening into a sensation like falling down an elevator shaft. My power was just within reach. A few more seconds, and I’d unlock the cuffs and be free.
With a hard yank on the thin thread of power, I grabbed hold of it and concentrated with all my might on the metal around my wrists. All I needed to hear was that tiny click. With that, I’d be free.
Instead of a click, I heard a pop. At the same time, the thread of power I was mentally grasping at flared to life in a violent outburst of power. I shrieked as sparks flew over my head and scored the popcorn ceiling of my room. Yanking my wrists as hard as I could, the cuffs broke off in pieces and landed red hot on my bed, setting the silky smooth fabric of my comforter on fire.
Cursing under my breath, I ran to the kitchen and got the fire extinguisher Johnny had insisted on installing last year. It might have had something to do with my third grease fire that summer, but he never said. I mentally blessed him as I put out the fire on my three-hundred-dollar comforter, and cursed the handcuffs and my mental powers.
So much for simply unlocking the cuffs. If I wasn’t careful, I’d burn down the whole apartment building.
Once the fire was out, I pulled Athena’s Jewel out from under my shirt. The brilliant green stone flashed, as if it had come to life when I called on my powers. Holding it out in my palm, I could feel the energy trapped inside. It hummed with power. Even in all my years at the museum, I’d never seen anything like it. Most of the things there were your basic cursed or enchanted objects, which sucked the life force out of the user. Athena’s jewel did the opposite. It emanated power.
“Remind me to do some research on you when I get back from my mission,” I whispered to the shiny green stone.
Maybe Ruth would let me add this piece to the museum on loan. Something like this might actually attract some of the supernatural residents of the city. It would be a change of pace from our usual human foot traffic.
From the living room, Johnny’s old cuckoo clock chimed, reminding me I only had two hours before my rendezvous with Matt Rue. The dead weight that I’d been carrying in my stomach since meeting with Ruth suddenly became a hundred pounds heavier. After tonight, there was no going back. Tonight, I’d find my mother.
Chapter Nine
The mind-blowing fact that I had just moved something with the power of my mind and set fire to my bedspread had to be mulled over later. I left my apartment and grabbed a cab. Ruth had given me strict instructions to meet Matt Rue at the Scarab Lounge downtown at 10:00. I’d never been there before, but I’d heard of the seedy little place that smelled like a mixture of cat urine and old booze. Angel’s date had taken her there once. She vowed never to return.
As the cabdriver pulled into traffic, I tucked Athena’s jewel under two layers of tank tops, and a flowy top that would hopefully conceal the jewel from any thieving eyes. My purse and cellphone were at home, next to the note I’d left for Johnny, asking him not to worry about me for a few days. No doubt, he’d call Gideon. But once I was inside Caro’s organization, they wouldn’t be able to find me. There was no point in even trying.
We arrived at the Scarab Lounge sooner than I anticipated. My heart thumped in erratic beats, threatening to jump out of my chest and onto the seat next to me. I slowed it with a couple deep gulps of air and drummed my fingers on the door to distract my nerves. Everything was going to be okay. From what Ruth had told me, this would be a simple operation. Get in, get my mom, get out. No need to get worked up over nothing.
I paid the driver, slid out the door, and stepped in front of the Scarab Lounge’s front door. Red neon lights flashed the club’s name in tacky style. The windows were dark and dirty, with one missing pane covered in cardboard. Its blood red door swung open occasionally, letting out the lone smoker or welcoming a new stumbling group of dancers. The pulse of the music from inside reverberated through the cement and up through the heels of my boots.
Trying not to lose my nerve, I pushed through the swinging door and past a group of young men filing outside for a smoke. A few of them eyed me up and down, but I ignored them and made a bee line for the bar. Planting my rear on one of the abandoned stools, I looked around.
Much like the outside, the inside was dark and drab. Black dusty drapes hung from the blacked out windows and over dark booths that hid couples whispering and kissing each other. The dance floor throbbed with the writhing mass of dancers, sweating out their worries and the sweet scent of booze. For a Thursday night, this place was happening. It probably had something to do with the two dollar shots advertisement hanging over my head.
The bartender wiped down the bar in front of me, and smacked an empty shot glass on the surface. “We just ran out of vodka. What can I get for you?”
I swallowed hard and pulled two dollar bills out of my purse. “Tequila and lime.”
The bartender nodded and filled the shot glass with a bottle of cheap tequila and slid a lime across the bar at me. Downing the shot, I sucked on the lime, relishing the painful tar
tness that stung my mouth. The alcohol eased my nerves just the slightest, which helped me keep my cool when a small man swimming in his leather jacket jumped onto the stool next to me and mumbled my name.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
His eyes swept across the room and back to my face. “Are you Aya Harris?”
Sucking in a steadying breath, I forced a smile on my face. “Yes. Are you Matt?”
He nodded and waved a finger at the bartender, downing the shot glass of tequila thrown his way. “That’s me. Are you sure you want to do this? You’ve still got time to back out.”
I rested my elbow on the bar and turned nonchalantly toward Matt, doing everything within my power to slow the racing of my heart. He was the kind of guy I’d never pick out in a crowd. Everything about him was average. Average height, average weight, average looks. His brown hair hung a bit shaggy around the tops of his ears, and a short beard darkened his face. From what I could see, he was totally human.
“I’m sure,” I told him, although my head was screaming the opposite. “How exactly can you get me into this organization?”
Matt shrugged. “It’s my job to find the girls. I find them in bars across the city. It won’t look suspicious.”
I nearly fell off my stool. “Find the girls? You mean…?”
