Rites & Desires Page 2

  "And where are you?"

  "Forty-eight through fifty."

  "Who’s on forty-seven?"

  "No one. Offices. Gear, equipment, barely anything so far."

  Satisfied with her answer that it wouldn’t be another tenant, Loki went on. "Balcony?"

  "Two. And a great view of Starcom Tower."

  The god’s expression changed then. His eyes grew wider as his eyebrows knitted in the center of his forehead and his mouth fell open a little. "You’re sleeping with Stardust," he said, as sure of his words as he was of the sunrise.

  "Now, now, darling. Don’t get ahead of yourself."

  "Ah. You’re not sleeping with Stardust yet."

  Ruby grinned and inclined her head. "Not yet," she confirmed.

  "You do know he’s married?"

  "Is this the part where you ask me if I care?"

  "You’ll be hard pressed to get next to him without your powers."

  Ruby grinned wickedly, showing a version of her true face she rarely shared with others. "Well, that’s where you come in, isn’t it?" she replied, reminding him with those words why she had come here in the first place.

  Loki reached out and took her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips for a kiss that lasted just a moment longer than was absolutely proper.

  "Indeed," he replied, "that it is."

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ruby fidgeted behind her desk on the newly furnished forty-seventh floor of the Ruby Tower. She hated fidgeting--she found it to be a sign of a weak constitution. She hated that she was even capable of such a plebian display. But there was no other term she could think of for her current state of unsteadiness. For the last hour or more, she’d been bogged down in the minutiae of owning a skyscraper--shuffling through Starpads to find which one of them held her tenancy agreements and cursing the very idea of a paperless office.

  Shifting the company’s files to digital had been the idea of Arsho Barsamian, the building’s usually brilliant (although occasionally troublesome) manager. It had seemed a good enough idea when Arsho had presented it, but Ruby was now firmly of the opinion that moving all her different-looking and otherwise easily identified papers onto identical devices was an idea that scored as less than brilliant. It was frustrating. And she was annoyed.

  Of course, it was almost surely not solely the fault of the so-called digital upgrade that Ruby was in such a foul humor. If her fidgeting was a sign of a weak constitution, then at least she could point to the cause of the weakness. The fact that she hadn’t had a full-scale breakdown was more than ought to be expected of anyone under the circumstances.

  It had been months since she’d gone to see Loki about her powers, and so far, nothing had come of it. She’d gone to work setting up his icons in the space she’d promised him immediately upon her return to the mortal realm. The entire forty-sixth floor was festooned in his livery. She’d even gone so far as to arrange the purchase of some significant historical items from overseas, at no small personal expense. But her immortal neighbor had yet to set foot in the place, as far as she could tell. It would be just like the trickster god to have her set aside an $11 million penthouse condominium for him that he never intended to use. Still, she had held up her end of the bargain, and it seemed as though he hadn’t made even a single move toward upholding his.

  Ruby had spent the last several weeks getting settled into her own new penthouse and overseeing the setup of the studio and offices in the Tower. Goblin Records was happily functioning in its new home amidst the shiny and evolving skyline of downtown. She’d even received flowers from Jaccob Stevens welcoming her to the neighborhood. That little touch had been the one bright spot in this interminable period of frustrated waiting. Seeing as she meant to seduce Cobalt City’s preeminent billionaire and superhero immediately upon the return of her powers, it was nice to know she already had his attention.

  But mostly she’d been keeping her head down, burying herself in paperwork, and doing her best to appear busier than she actually was. The busier she looked, the easier it was to avoid people. And the easier it was to avoid people, the happier Ruby Killingsworth would be--at least until Loki came through with some assistance. Every interaction with another person without her powers to aid her left a bad taste in Ruby’s mouth, so she’d been doing all she could to keep from speaking to anyone. It had been months since her powers had first failed her, and living without them hadn’t gotten even one iota easier. It was frightening, unknown territory, and she didn’t like it one bit. She’d done everything in her power to get her magic working on her own--from the staggeringly obscure to the blatantly obvious--all with varying degrees of success. But none of the rites, rituals, or geas she’d tried had netted her any real, sustained, innate magic.

  Everything in her power had been decidedly not enough. Now it was time to try everything in Loki’s power. If he’d ever get back to her. Ruby was frustrated with the god’s months-long silence, but mostly she was frustrated with the lack of magic and this all-new digital office landscape conspiring to not let her get anything done. And the more frustrated she got, the less she cared to deal with anyone.

  Fortunately, one of the perks of the paperless office was instantaneous electronic communication that didn’t involve actually having to speak with another person. From her phone, Ruby shot off an email to Arsho. She asked them rather less than nicely to please come collect these Starpads and put labels on them, or sync them to some secure cloud thing somewhere so she could get all her documents from anywhere on a single device, or hire someone to do that for them if they had neither the time nor the inclination. She watched the swirling icon on her screen that told her the mail had sent. Satisfied her directive was on its way to its intended recipient, she grabbed her bag and headed for the elevator.

  One of the things Ruby loved most about her new office and residence being custom built one atop the other was the elevator system. There were public elevators and semi-public elevators going through the retail shop on the lower floors and to the office and residential space on the middle floors. And there were semi-private elevators, accessed through a separate lobby, for those who had business with Goblin Records on the forty-seventh floor. And then there were Ruby’s private elevators. Accessed through biometrics, there was an express elevator that brought Ruby straight from one of her private entrances to either her inner office or her sitting room. Across a private marble lobby from Ruby’s personal elevators, her doorman could also allow access to an additional express that would take visitors straight to either her outer office or what served as the front door to her penthouse.

  As she stepped into the brass and mirrored surroundings of the lift that would take her from her office to her home without the need to interact with anyone, she once again affirmed her decision to move into the tower full time. Her house in Regency Heights was luxurious enough, and she had no intention to sell the place any time soon, but commuting by elevator absolutely beat rush-hour traffic any day of the week.

  She’d barely been home long enough to open the balcony doors and kick off her shoes before there was a knock at the door from the elevator lobby. Ruby cursed under her breath as she slipped her suede stilettos back on; the doorman was supposed to call before letting anyone up. She hated breaking in new employees. Why the hell couldn’t people just do things the way she wanted them to? Ruby shook her head as she crossed to the door. Because she didn’t have her powers, that’s why. This would not have been a problem if she’d been able to use magic when instructing the doormen.

  Ruby pulled open the door, ready to let out a swear word, sure it must be Arsho or one of their assistants that the doorman let up without bothering to call. The doorman might be new, but any employee who got past him wouldn’t be; they should know better than to come up unannounced. Whoever it was had more than earned the dressing down they were about to get.

  "What the--?" she caught herself, stopping her half-articulated tirade when she saw who was standing in her vestibule.
The nearest thing she had to compare this moment to was a surprise invasion of trick-or-treaters. But Halloween was months way, and these people at her door were not children. And they weren’t exactly costumed, although their manner of appearance was in many ways cartoonish.

  There were seven of them--teens and young adults mostly, although a few might have been over thirty. Her best guess was they were a band that had been sent to meet with her in the office and had somehow been sent up the wrong elevator. She was trying to form the words to ask when the thin, ashen boy in the middle held out a note. A young girl with red-to-orange-to-white chin-length ombre hair tried to snatch the note away from the sallow youth, but he pulled it out of her reach and presented it again to Ruby. Having no idea what else to do in the moment, Ruby took the paper and began to unfold it.

  "You’ll want to wash your hands," the girl with ombre hair said as Ruby looked back and forth between the group and the note. She noticed quickly that it wasn’t written on paper, but parchment, and it had been folded neatly and creased with a second, smaller page secreted inside it. The smaller page contained a drawing with a few sentences scrawled around it, and the larger a letter in handwriting with so much flourish to it she had no trouble in guessing from whose pen it had come.

  "You’ll want the item in the drawing" the note read. "Should be able to get you some answers--maybe even get your powers back. Last known location was a vault in the custody of the CCPD. I sent the Blights along to help you. Use them however you choose. Regards, -L".

  "Loki sent you?" Ruby asked the group of them. There was a chorus of nods. Ruby shrugged and moved out of the way of the door to let the bunch inside. Leaving them all in her elevator lobby wasn’t going to get anything accomplished. "Blights?" she asked the group as they entered. "Forgive me, but I’m not familiar."

  "Tulpas," an androgynous, emo-looking youth answered from the back. "Thoughts-made-flesh."

  Ruby eyed the speaker ruefully.

  "Am I going to have to worry about pronouns with you?" she asked sharply. The tower’s manager, Arsho, was never guaranteed to present as the same gender two days in a row--and keeping up with the right pronouns had at times proven frustrating. When Arsho had finally settled on using "they" full-time, it had been a welcome relief, even if Ruby still occasionally fouled it up. She wanted to know what she was in for with this bunch. The youth shook his head.

  "No," he answered, "I’m going to be unhappy with whatever you say. I’m Discontent. This is Fire," he continued, pointing to the girl with the ombre hair. Discontent then pointed out his other cohorts in turn. "You’ve got Plague," he said with a gesture toward the wan-looking boy who’d handed her the note. She really would want to wash her hands. "There’s Pestilence, Doubt, and the twins: Ruin and Decay."

  "And you’re the--" Ruby was trying to wrap her mind around what she was hearing.

  "Physical manifestations of the totality of thought regarding these blights on humanity," Doubt piped up. Of all of them, Doubt seemed to be the one Ruby would relate to the most. She was an average height, average-looking woman who could be seventeen or thirty, with sandy brown hair and wire frame glasses.

  "So," Ruby began, trying to digest what Doubt had just told her, "people think on, or worry about, for example: Ruin, and--"

  "And I am sustained," Ruin piped up to answer. He was a short man, stocky, and as ageless as the rest of them, who looked as though perhaps he had seen the bottom of one too many vials of anabolic steroids in his day. His brother, Decay, resembled him only in bone structure and hair color. Decay was obese, breathing loudly, and didn’t seem to have two teeth left beside each other in his mouth.

  "But do you have powers?" she asked the group.

  "We are the result," Fire told her, "but we can also be the cause."

  "So you can--" Ruby began.

  "Set things on fire?" the girl answered pleasantly. "Yeah."

  "That’s why I didn’t let her hold the note," Plague’s raspy voice chimed in.

  "Not everything I touch catches fire," the girl snapped.

  Plague just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

  "That--" Ruby began. Then she paused. She surveyed the group of them, considering for a moment what might be required of her in order to look after seven blights on humanity. "That’s a good thing."

  The sound of laughter interrupted her then, and Ruby turned her head toward it. The sound had come from outside her apartment, and it was giving her the seed of an idea.

  Her nearest neighbors, and the only ones with whom she shared this level of the sky, were Jaccob Stevens and his family. Their penthouse on top of Starcom Tower was actually one story above hers, but she had a clear view of their living space from her sitting room and its adjoining balcony. And every now and then, when the glass was open and the wind was just right, she could hear the things that went on out on their terrace.

  The family was enjoying themselves, Jaccob was cooking something on his grill, and the divine smell wafting in through her open windows reminded Ruby she hadn’t eaten today. Ruby signaled to the androgynous youth to come closer. An idea had hatched. She could, at the same time, both advance her agenda and test the mettle of these minions Loki had sent her. "Discontent?" she addressed him.

  "Yeah?" he answered, sounding just as unhappy as his name might have implied.

  "Do you see that woman up there--the blonde one?" Ruby pointed across the way, at the statuesque form of Elizabeth Stevens where she lounged against the balcony railing.

  Discontent nodded.

  "I want her out," Ruby instructed.

  "Out?" Discontent asked, seeming not to have understood the request.

  "Out," Ruby affirmed. "Elsewhere. Gone. Unmarried. Discontented. And get her to keep the kids away if you can."

  Discontent smiled slyly and nodded his head. "Got it, boss. It might take a couple of days, but I can do that."

  "Excellent," Ruby affirmed, patting Discontent on the arm as he turned to go. Ruby turned her attention back to her neighbor and his wife.

  Elizabeth Stevens was someone Ruby just couldn’t help but hate. Tall and blonde, naturally thin, toned and tanned, she was the kind of woman who’d always made shorter, plumper women feel somehow inferior. She’d helped her husband build a multi-billion-dollar tech empire and had only recently retired from running Starcom Industries to pursue a full-time life of philanthropy.

  But none of that really mattered to Ruby. What mattered to Ruby was the fact that the esteemed Mrs. Stevens was the one thing standing between her and bedding the most powerful man in Cobalt City. And that just wouldn’t do. Even if Jaccob and Elizabeth’s happy marriage turned out to be a sham, Ruby had no illusions that she could steal a man from a woman who looked like that, presuming the playing field was level.

  But Ruby Killingsworth had no intention of playing fair. She figured she’d be waiting to conquer the man in the super suit until after her powers had been fully restored, but it appeared as though the opportunity to get the wife out of the way had just presented itself. There was no way she wasn’t going to jump at it.

  Having the services of the living embodiment of discontent was an opportunity she just couldn’t pass up.

  Now to figure out what the hell to do with the other six.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Standing only 5’3" and with a curvy figure closer to the ideal of a bygone era, Ruby Killingsworth was well aware that she wasn’t conventionally beautiful. But over the years, she’d learned to use what assets she did have to her advantage. And she knew that she’d never looked more fetching than she did as she made her way to lie on her balcony in the late afternoon sunshine.

  The swimsuit she wore was a two piece: white with giant red polka dots; it had a high waist and a halter top and accentuated all her best features--pushing up her bosom and nipping her in at the smallest part of her waist. Her hair was pinned up on top of her head and her nails were painted the same shade of red as her lips. She looked like she
belonged painted on the nose of an antique aircraft, and she knew it. She may not have been beautiful in the generic sense of the word, but Ruby had her own brand of sexy that served her quite well.

  Today, her oversized white sunglasses were serving her best of all as she lay on her comfy chaise and pretended to be gazing out into space. She was, of course, gazing at her neighbor. It had been a week since the Blights had come into her life, and five days since she’d watched gleefully through her bedroom shades as Elizabeth Stevens had walked out on her husband. And since then, neither she nor either of her grown children had come to darken the doorstep of Starcom Tower. If Ruby had needed proof of the power of these Tulpas Loki had sent her, that had been enough. Discontent had done exactly as he said he would. It certainly inspired confidence in their ability to help her retrieve the item in the drawing. Fortunately, the six remaining Blights seemed to have no problem biding their time until she figured out what it was and how to get her hands on it. She’d quartered them in one of the as-yet unused studios on forty-seven with the instructions to "record an album, or something" while she worked on the problem.

  She’d hoped to be in touch with Loki again by now, but he’d remained noticeably absent from his prepared space on forty-six. And another trip through the Coil was out of the question; she’d scarcely been able to scrape together the resources to work the ritual when she’d gone before, and lacking her innate magic left her without the ability to garner more. But it had occurred to her, as her mind had buzzed with questions about the sketch and the Blights, that she had a decidedly more mundane way to reach out to her immortal friend.