The Book of Broken Creatures: (A Broken Creatures Novel, Book 1)

by A L Hart

  My mouth opened, but a pessimistic truth clamped it shut: even if by some miracle I did fix this girl’s abnormalities, that didn’t mean the two of them would be safe. If the event at the mall told me anything, it was that HB didn’t perform thorough inspections on who was infected. They’d shot at me without a moment’s hesitation.

  Anisah wanted me to say I found a cure. Needed peace of mind. But I knew ridding her daughter of her rabbit ears wouldn’t cut it.

  “He found a cure,” Jera interjected.

  All heads in the room turned.

  “It is a process, but he’s figured out a way,” she promised with the confidence of someone who had it all figured out.

  The magnitude of hope to saturate Anisah’s gaze could inspire a legion.

  Excluding me. Only thing I was inspired to do was throttle this demon. “Jera, what are you—”

  She wasn’t looking at me, but toward Ophelia, who was watching Anisah intensely now, that guilt on her face having gained a friend: dread.

  Understanding hit. Jera was upping the stakes, pushing Ophelia towards the edge. She believed her sister’s need to help the mother before us would overrule her deeply woven reluctance to bring me harm.

  Jera logic: what was one zap if it meant saving two lives?

  But in this situation, it was counterintuitive.

  I grabbed Jera’s arm and dragged her toward the door, the same as she’d shoved me into the kitchen the last time our guests had shown up here. “Excuse us a second,” I told Anisah in as polite a voice I could muster.

  On the outside of the office, I bit out in as impolite a voice I could muster, “What happened to liars never prosper?”

  Jera crossed her arms. “And here I thought we were bonding after your little speech back there.”

  “I didn’t give a speech.”

  “‘Everyone’s different, everyone’s special,’” she mimicked in a voice that could not have been mine. “Regardless, the lie needed to be told. We need more time to make Lia cooperate.”

  “See, that’s your problem. You’re not supposed to make anyone do anything.”

  “And that’s your problem, believing if everyone had liberty of choice, they would choose to do the right thing. But in case you haven’t noticed, Lia doesn’t take the steps that need to be taken. I do. And I drag her along. It’s a weight I’ve been carrying since the beginning of time, a weight I will carry until the day I cease to be, so please save your principles of mankind for just that, mankind.”

  I gritted my teeth, then remembered the two girls waiting for answers. “Then what do you propose we do now that you’ve put it in that woman’s head I’ve found a cure?”

  She looked at me blankly. “Well, I was hoping you might assist me on that end. A delicate female such as myself can’t do all of the heavy thinking.”

  Breathe, Peter.

  An idea sparked.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said. Then, as an afterthought, “Try not to tell anymore lies while I’m gone.”

  “I make no promises,” she murmured, disappearing back into the office.

  Ten minutes later, I reconvened with the small group, a satin, dark purple bag in hand.

  Unsurprising, Jera had claimed the desk chair—my desk chair, her arms thrown behind her head triumphantly, gray slates brightening when I scowled.

  It didn’t last.

  I looked to Ophelia and said nonchalantly, “I think we forgot to throw out the leftover pastries—would you mind handling that?”

  Jera bolted for the door in record time and the moment she rose, I dropped into the vacant chair, threw my arms behind my head triumphantly and watched Jera’s face fall as realization dawned.

  She’d already eaten the leftovers—and forgotten, apparently.

  Note to self: even succubi can be gullible.

  Ophelia pressed her lips to keep from laughing.

  I suppressed a smile of my own, looking back to Anisah as I held out the bag. “In here is a dose of the cure. Give it to Kyda before bed tonight and let me know how she does with it, then we can move forward.”

  Jera reclaimed her seat on the arm of the chair, her ire a whole ‘nother person, but she couldn’t contain her curiosity as Anisah undid the sack’s tie and pulled from the bag one murky brown, liquid capsule.

  “This?” Anisah said, a thousand questions in her eyes.

  I nodded, hating to lie alongside Jera. “I just recently . . . concocted it.” If that didn’t make me sound like a voodoo con artist, I didn’t know what did.

  “And you’re sure it’ll work?” Skepticism coated her eyes as she examined the contents, turning the pill over from side to side.

  I nodded again and gave my best I’m-A-Knowledgeable-Doctor smile.

  She bought it, rebagging it and looking to me with shimmering watts of gratitude. “Thank you, Peter. Thank you.” Her hands were shaking with the force of her joy. “How much?” she asked. “How much do I give you?”

  “—Five hundred.”

  “—Nothing.” I glared at Jera.

  Anisah looked between the two of us, then rest the disbelieving gaze on me. “Are you—are you sure?”

  I offered another smile. “I am.”

  Jera swore under her breath and Anisah shifted uncomfortably.

  “Don’t mind my wife,” I said, sweet as cotton candy. “It’s that time of the month.”

  At once, the demon toppled from the arm of the chair in shock. When she righted herself, I could all but see her intention in her eyes, a tiny version of me running in circles, clothes up in flames.

  At which point I sprang from my own seat, playing it into a fluid act as I extended my hand to Anisah. “Why don’t I show you two out safely?” Read: show myself out safely.

  I did just that, feeling Jera’s heated glare on my back every step of the way.

  At the door, Anisah felt compelled to entrust me with her phone number, scribbling it on a loose piece of paper and curling my hand around it. “Call me if you ever need something. Anything,” she clarified.

  I nodded and moments later, watched her buckle Kyda into an old, unsuspecting Civic, before she took up the driver’s side and headed who knew where.

  “What did you give her?” Jera demanded when they were out of sight.

  I shrugged. “I put chocolate milk in an old liquid capsule.”

  There seemed to be a silent mark of approval fleet across her face, and I would have commented on it—because how could I resist such a rarity—were I not distracted by the sudden movement in my peripheral.

  I took a deep breath, starting to develop a sense of clairvoyance when it came to these fleeting shadows.

  There, kneeling before the arching, wide-spanned windows, was that head of sunburned brown locks. He was wiping the inside of the windows this time, his vigor as strong as it always was when I caught him, as was his pretending not to see me standing over him, arms folded.

  “Kid,” I said.

  “‘Sup, boss?” There was that squint when he glanced up at me even though there was no sun in his eyes today.

  I took instant notice of the rag he used to wipe down the windows. It wasn’t cotton today, but a beige microfiber. And the glass cleaner he used looked an awful lot like the one I kept in the supply closet.

  Plucking it up from the floor before he could give the glass another spritz, I examined the bottle closer. It was mine. I knew because I always used the same old Clorox bottle with the chipped tag, having refilled it with a value Windex solution.

  The boy was eager to sell out his supplier. “She gave it to me.” He pointed at Jera, then looked confused for a moment, honeyed eyes flicking to Ophelia. “I mean her. I think.”

  I knew he spoke the truth by the way Ophelia suddenly became extremely interested in the floorboards. That, and because, chances were, if Jera was ever given the choice, I was pretty sure she would have told the kid to get lost the second she spotted him rather than advocate his working here.

 
When I turned back to the boy, I sighed.

  He was going to keep coming back, that much was a given. Chances of him asking his mom’s permission was clearly zero. And the windows were impeccably clean . . .

  I shook my head, dipping into my back pocket and withdrawing my wallet. I took out all the bills I had left after yesterday’s shopping trip.

  An ecstatic light flared in the boy’s eyes when I handed it to him, but he maintained a cool, collected way about him. Down to the way he licked the tip of one of his fingers and began rifling through the wad of cash, counting each bill. When done, he cut me a sideways look. “This is only thirty-seven dollars, sir. Where’s the rest of it?”

  “Blame Uncle Sam.”

  “I don’t have an Uncle Sam.”

  “Beat it, kid.”

  He huffed but cooperated much faster than before.

  I stopped him with a tug of his sleeve. “Just to be clear, you don’t work for me, kid. You just happen to stop by and perform tasks and I just happen to give you money from time to time. Tomorrow you’re on supply duty.” It was the only task that, should the cops investigate, they couldn’t trace back to child labor. My word against his.

  “Really?!” He beamed up at me with a toothy, contagious smile, right before he shoved the money in his pockets and shook my hand as if we’d just brokered a business deal. “Won’t let you down, boss.”

  “But I still expect your guardian’s permi—”

  He was already gone, out the door, running down the street and around the corner.

  Seriously, how hard was it to get one signature if he wanted to work that bad? Once when I was little, Liz and I had set up a lemonade stand to raise money for Mom and Dad’s anniversary present. We hadn’t told a soul where the money had come from. Just weekend days spent sneaking supplies to the corner near the stripmalls. If he was up to something similar, I guess I could understand. Still, a little kid out roaming the street for work didn’t sit well with me any more than hiring him under the table did.

  “Humans,” Jera said beside me, as if it was a major insult. She brushed the notion aside, trading it for a second rarity today: a compliment. “However, for a human, that was good thinking you did earlier with the pill.”

  I nodded, not interested in giving thanks when she was the reason I had to come up with the magic capsule to begin with. “Yeah, well, we’re not out of the woods yet. All it does is give us a moment to figure out how to control whatever’s inside of me.” Or I’d never be able to extract the dark energy from the girl.

  “We will,” she said with an easy confidence that drew my eyes to her.

  And I found I agreed. Because it was only a matter of time before Anisah realized the capsules didn’t work.

  *****

  “Peter, they worked! They actually worked!”

  It was the next day. I had a tray of dishes in my hands when Anisah popped up out of thin air and stopped me, one of my feet midway through the kitchen threshold.

  Nearly dropping the tray, I surveyed the lounge area where eyes rested on us curiously. “Um, you’re not supposed to be back here.” I knew I had a thousand more things to worry about besides how professional my business was perceived, but concern for my star ratings on Yelp was practically integrated into my priority list.

  She looked embarrassed, stepping away from me, Kyda posted at her side like a third leg.

  What she said suddenly sank in.

  My eyes snapped to the girl’s head which was covered in her shawl’s hood.

  “Give me a second,” I said, hurrying into the kitchen, where I ditched the dish tray and apron I’d donned when helping Jera.

  Seconds later, I ushered the females into my office, catching Ophelia’s eye and nodding her in to join me, hoping she might make sense of this whereas I couldn’t.

  The four of us gathered around my desk, Anisah and Kyda taking up the guest seats, Ophelia leaning tentatively against the wall while I sat in confusion at my desk.

  Immediately, Anisah pulled Kyda’s hood down, and I was greeted with the same rabbit ears I’d noted before, only this time, they were smaller. They didn’t hang as low, rather they protruded at an awkward 90 degree angle. And the tail which slipped from its coil beneath the girl’s skirt was noticeably thinner, a gray vine that whipped slowly across the floorboards.

  I looked to Ophelia who looked as stunned as I felt.

  Anisah’s eyes were bright and slightly moist, but I knew the difference between tears of sorrow and those of joy. She radiated the latter. “I did just as you said. When I got home, I tried to get her to eat something because that’s what you do when you start someone on a new medication, I know, but she just kept vomiting it back up.” A look of guilt threatened, but her jubilation was far too overpowering. “But then I gave her the pill with a glass of chocolate milk since it’s her favorite. And then we prayed to anyone listening for this medicine to work, and we bathed and got ready for the night, but I couldn’t sleep, I was so worried. I’m ashamed to say, since I know rest is essential, but we stayed awake all night, talking and talking—the most I’ve talked in years—until neither of us could keep our eyes open any longer. And when the morning came, she woke me with this big smile on her face, Peter, and she showed me her ears and they were the size you see now.”

  Definitely smaller.

  Kyda didn’t seem to care either way. Her attention was on the small toy soldier in her hand, his pale green musket aimed at the corner of the desk while the girl made silent shooting noises. She was far more lively, and when she leaned over to show Anisah the soldier’s badged sash, her mother leaned across and gave her head a kiss, the biggest smile on her face.

  It was this smile that clouded a confliction over me.

  It was awing, elating, and a thousand times relieving.

  At the same time, it only served as a stark reminder. HB was still out there; Anisah’s happiness was premature.

  Still, I put on that false smile I’d donned before—even though this time there held a semblance of genuine warmth—and said, “That’s great news, Anisah. The both of you are looking better already and give it time, those ears and that tail will be gone in no time. But remember, you have to continue to give her the dosage.” From my desk, I produced another sack with four of the premade milk tablets and handed it to her. “I estimate another three to four weeks.”

  I figured it was a solid timeframe for me to get at least a minor wrench on my ability. Though, if the placebo effect worked this well, was there even a need for them to return?

  Short answer: yes.

  Long answer: I needed to consider taking sedatives. Days without sleep had started to give me crazy ideas. Clarity. I needed them to return to the shop until the threat of HB was dealt with. I needed a way to make sure they were okay. Alive.

  The crazy part: I was going to have to find the hunters before they found me and these women again, including Ophelia and Jera. I didn’t know how or when, but it was only a matter of time before they struck again. And next time, I had a feeling we wouldn’t be so lucky as to get away.

  They’d seen what Jera could do when they no doubt discovered their men’s remains. Next time they would be ready for her.

  They didn’t know what Ophelia and I could do, thanks to me having made all the hunters present that first night vanish and Jera eliminating the hunters that’d been at the mall. Even though we didn’t have the systematics worked out, I was still a trump card.

  I had to use that to my advantage. I had to find a way for Ophelia to charge me—or I had to find out how to do it on my own.

  The world had showed me what happened when I took its kindness for granted. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I would preserve the lives of those around me.

  On the other side of the room, the office door opened.

  Jera gave the four of us a look of surprise, her dishwashing gloves still on. I could see the disappointment flit through her at having not been invited, but it was quickly stowed
by something more pressing. “Peter, there’s a woman here to see you.”

  My first thought was Natalie. I started to rise.

  Jera shook her head. “Not that kind of woman.”

  I slowly lowered back into my chair, confounded. “Send her in, I guess?”

  Jera gave Ophelia one look and they had a little sisterly, telepathic conversation.

  Then Ophelia was adorned with a sweet smile as she pushed up from the wall. “I told you it would all be fine,” she said to Anisah. “You just have to have faith. Peter is very good at what he does, but I do believe he has another appointment now. Kyda, would you like a bottle of chocolate milk before you go?”

  The girl was out of her seat and following Ophelia without a moment’s hesitation, Anisah at their heels, but not before shooting me another grateful smile. I returned it just barely.

  As soon as the three females were gone, Jera was carting in another.

  I sat back, unsure what to make of the sight before me.

  It wasn’t that this woman was peculiar in any way close to that of Kyda’s abnormalities. It was that she was very . . . feminine. She wore a bright yellow tea dress that flared out at the waist. Carried with her a black and orange parasol. On her head was a floppy cream sun hat that sagged over her porcelain beauty in such an elegant fashion, I was sure my rusty, dingy office space cringed in embarrassment for me.

  “You’re welcome to have a seat,” Jera invited, crossing over to my chair.

  This time I moved my arm before she could swat it away as she took up her perch on the arm of it and leaned against me. She didn’t even bother to remove the wet rubber gloves.

  The same couldn’t be said for the oddly effeminate woman across from us, who, with great diligence and flawless grace, removed each white lace glove from her hands with patient care, stacking them on the desk. She seemed both completely lost and impossibly apologetic at the unannounced visitation.

  “Um.” I turned a quick look at Jera who was back in observation mode, eyes glued to the woman. “How may I help you . . . miss?” I had no class.

  Faded blue eyes flicked up to mine beneath that oversized hat, an opulent chalcedony that moved right through me. She noted my gaze on her hat and startled.