by J. P. Rice
“Go, now,” Vlad screamed, and Bruceras punched him in the chest with the heel of his palm.
Cheryl took off at a dead sprint, and surprisingly, so did Bruceras. Both in opposite directions. Vlad recovered quickly and started after the devil. I was torn on what to do. Vlad could kill Bruceras, but I wanted to make sure. In fact, I wanted to help Vlad. I still needed to get the Harp from Bruceras, who still had the leather carryall over his shoulder.
I hated to admit it, but if Vlad fell at the hands of Bruceras, I didn’t know if I could win a one-on-one battle. Constantly shapeshifting to maintain the appearance of a man had been aging me. I had barely been sleeping. I was still sore from the beating I took at Mike’s.
Magic relied on energy and I was running out of it. The reckless side of me wanted to throw caution to the wind and chase after the devils.
Instead, I turned and ran after Cheryl who was about thirty yards ahead. She disappeared as the woods grew denser with evergreens dusted in snow. I had to follow the sounds of her feet. A few steps into the chase, I slipped on a patch of ice and my feet left the ground. My back landed first, knocking the wind out of me.
When I recovered, I rose to my feet and realized how fooked I was. The sounds of Cheryl’s footsteps had ceased. I stood in the middle of a silent forest. I didn’t know where I was or how to get out of here. My Raven’s Eye. I could have the Morrigan help me out.
I pried open the skin on my wrist and pressed my thumb over the eye to activate it. Ten seconds passed and I didn’t feel the normal burning sensation in my wrist. I moved my thumb aside and stared at a dull burgundy eyeball. Why wasn’t it working?
I didn’t know if I should stay still or start moving. A sitting duck or a lost wanderer? Which was worse? The obvious choice was to keep going in a direction opposite to the one which Bruceras had gone. With my heart thumping, I put one boot in front of the next and plunged deeper into the frosty forest.
The heat suit kept me warm so I wasn’t worried about freezing to death. I would starve long before that. I walked for what must have been an hour across the white landscape. No signs of Cheryl or Bruceras or Vlad. No animals either except for a few bird’s whistling from a great distance.
Alone and lost, I had a tough choice to make. If I went further into the woods, I could wind up lost and never get out. If I turned around and walked straight, it would lead me to the entrance point where we had arrived. Taking that route carried the possibility of running into Bruceras.
Neither option inspired confidence in me. Fook. The Harp had slipped right through my fingers. When we had arrived, I thought this would be an easy victory. How had Bruceras found out about our plan? Then a horrible thought hit me.
Cheryl. Was it her? Had she sold us out? It would have been almost impossible. I’d spent almost every waking minute with her in the Red Cavern. Maybe someone had overheard us and reported back to Bruceras. I had to stop worrying and find a way out of this mess.
My first instinct to shift into a dragon would face problems. First, I was low on energy and my magic had been maxed out. Second, the dense wooded area would cause me to hit lots of tree branches when I ascended and probably prevent me from escaping.
In the past, I’d never had to take any of this into consideration. I’d used as much magic as I’d wanted without repercussions. Ironically, it was the lava bath from my first trip to the Red Cavern that had caused my magical problems. Now I had to use my magic wisely, rather than heave it recklessly at every bad guy.
It was a strange transition that I didn’t like. I would have to be more cerebral and craftier in the future, which started now. I couldn’t count on my magic to bail me out, anymore. It left me feeling hollow. Helpless.
I made a deal with myself. I would walk toward Cheryl for another half-hour. If I couldn’t find her in that time, I’d turn around and head for the exit.
I wandered through the woods peeking continuously over my shoulders, searching for Bruceras. I came to another clearing, and as I brushed a snow-crusted bush to the side, there she was. My eyes widened in excitement as I stared at Cheryl sitting on a fallen tree trunk.
Her head jerked toward me and a relieved smile spread across her face. She rose slowly to her feet as I approached. We still weren’t out of the woods yet, though. Literally and figuratively. The reunion spiked my confidence and injected some new energy into my ragged body.
Cheryl looked spent. Her face was covered in tears, her punky hair was a mess and she shivered despite the protection of her heat suit. My body slammed into her and I gripped my arms around her for a big bearhug. I even picked her up off the ground, which surprised her.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” she said, her voice sounding a little deeper than normal. “Is he still alive?”
I shrugged. “Not sure. I hope he’s dead. But if not, I’m going after him.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“Guilty as charged. I need to come clean with you.” I started to shift into my normal self.
Cheryl’s facial features twisted in disbelief as my hair grew longer and turned scarlet. My body shrank slightly, and my clothes loosened. Without the service of a mirror, I assumed I looked old as shit.
I put the ball in her court. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
She shook her head and looked away. Something was different about her. And not just the shocked look on her face from my shift. “Nope,” she muttered under her breath.
I stepped closer to her and massaged her shoulder. “I know this is a lot to take in right now, but I’m sick of acting like someone else.”
She slapped my hand away, spun to face me and wrapped her hands around my neck. What the fook? I tried to break the hold as her face started to blur and swirl around. Her arms grew bigger and stronger, firming their grip around my throat.
Chapter 30
Cheryl’s jeans exploded from her growing body but the heat suit only expanded. A duster took form and I noticed the carryall slung over his shoulder. How could he shift like that? I quickly realized that he hadn’t shifted and had utilized an illusion spell to hide his true form. Tricky devil.
As he grew taller, my feet lifted off the ground and he raised his arms above his head. My body dangled in mid air as I gagged, fighting for oxygen. I tried kicking him, but my tired body combined with Bruceras’s size prevented me from landing anything substantial.
As the oxygen started to run out and the end neared, my thoughts went to the start of the week. I’d saved some of the citizens from Ice Heart. Now they were at his mercy and the winter in Pittsburgh would never end. I’d failed on both missions. How did Bruceras know about the flute?
Holy shit. With oxygen running out, my brain came up with a brilliant idea. I ran my hand down the sleeve of Bruceras’s duster and found a zipper near his elbow. Carefully, I inched the zipper open with my thumb. I positioned my palm underneath in case the object fell out.
Link by link, I opened the zipper and felt a piece of cold metal hit my hand. I grabbed Ice Heart’s flute and raised my shaky arm up to my trembling lips. How could I blow into this thing? I had nothing left in my lungs. Sharp colors streaked through my vision, indicating that I would pass out soon.
I cupped the flute in my hand so Bruceras wouldn’t see it, held it to my lips and thought I was blowing but no sound came from the instrument. With Bruceras’s grunting, I couldn’t tell if it was making any sound. The oxygen deprivation caused my hand to sag and fall to my side.
The world around me slowed. The sounds of the ocean filled my ears. My brain felt heavy. Everything went black.
A sudden impact jolted me awake. Barely. My eyelids wouldn’t open, but I was conscious. Apparently, Bruceras had tossed me to the ground.
“Time to end this bitch once and for all,” Bruceras said.
My eyelids flickered open to see the bottom of Bruceras’s boot racing toward my face. A strange sound, like something burrowing through the ground, grabbed the devil’s att
ention and stopped his motion. I turned my head to the right and Ice Heart was streaking toward us.
I sat up and noticed that Bruceras’s eyes were bulging out of his head. Ice Heart scooted up, coming to an abrupt stop in front of Bruceras.
“What are you doing here?” Bruceras asked, confused.
Ice Heart didn’t answer his question. Instead he sauntered up to me as I scrambled to my feet and backed away. He said, “I told you I’d be back to kill you.”
“So you came on your own volition?” Bruceras asked.
“No. You summoned me,” he returned, pacing toward me.
“I did nothing of the sort, but since you are here...” Bruceras hinted.
“Anything you order, master,” Ice Heart said.
I slid my feet backward steadily, putting more distance between me and these two knuckleheads. When Ice Heart focused his attention back on me, I held the flute in front of my chest. Four eyes almost bulged out of the two men’s heads.
Bruceras fumbled with his sleeve, his fingers poking into the open pocket. As much as I wanted to kill this asshole myself, I didn’t have enough energy or power to take him on. If Vlad hadn’t been able to take him out, what chance did I have?
I looked right into the menacing blue eyes of Ice Heart. In my best Tony Montana voice, I said, “Kill that piece of shit.” I pointed directly at Bruceras’s chest. Directly at the man who had raped me and had tried to kill me several times.
The men turned to each other and appeared confused. I said, “Let’s go. I’m your master now. Kill him.”
The ice monster shrugged and muttered what sounded like an apology under his breath, then charged at Bruceras. I sat back to enjoy the mayhem I’d just unleashed.
Two enormous bodies smashed into each other, and Bruceras tumbled backward. The two men rolled around, fighting for position and grunting like animals. The ideal scenario would be if they killed each other at the same time.
Bruceras escaped from the grappling and made it back to his feet. He extended his arms and fire sprang from his fingertips, engulfing the ice monster, who screamed in primal agony. His icy exterior melted rapidly under the fiery assault. The liquid dribbled toward Bruceras.
My stomach turned as the tiny body inside the enchanted ice started to appear. Bruceras allowed his flames to dissolve and took two paces closer to the wrinkled, old man. He pulled a long knife from inside the duster. The dark dragon glass blade caught a few lazy rays of the sun and glimmered dangerously.
Bruceras jabbed toward Ice Heart’s throat with the point of the blade. The old man ducked down, and in a crouched position, he slid along his ice track. He shot right between Bruceras’s wide stance and ended up behind the devil.
Within a second, his icy exterior reconstructed and he returned to his original size. Bruceras spun to meet his ten-foot tall opponent. Ice Heart leaned down and unleashed an uppercut that landed on Bruceras’s crotch. A demon dick punch. Good. The devil doubled over, grabbing his manhood.
Ice Heart had the upper hand, but I called on some of my magic in case things went south. I was almost out of energy, so I recast the protection spell around my body. I brought my fire to the surface. If Ice Heart was victorious, I couldn’t be sure he would respect the flute and not come after me.
I let the fire build inside as Ice Heart landed a clean punch on Bruceras’s jaw. His head whipped to the side and a spurt of black blood shot from his mouth. Ice Heart threw a straight left that connected with his opponent’s nose. Dark blood exploded again, racing from his nostrils and dribbling down his face into the snow.
With Bruceras dazed, Ice Heart released a wicked combination of punches that a prizefighter would have been proud of. His last punch landed right below Bruceras’s right eye. The devil stumbled to the side and fell face down in the snow.
Ice Heart blew on his knuckles and seemed to be relishing the fight. He circled Bruceras’s still body and I wondered why he wasn’t finishing him off. He made a fist, then straightened his hand. It appeared he was debating how he should kill the devil.
“Just end him,” I told Ice Heart and held up the little flute.
Ice Heart balled his two giant hands together as he hovered above the fallen Bruceras. He raised his hands up high, preparing to crush his opponent’s skull. His arms started coming down like a guillotine. In a flash, Bruceras made it to his knees, spun around and went on the attack.
The obsidian blade was now glowing orange. In an uppercut motion, Bruceras dragged the knife from the ground. The blade tore into Ice Heart’s thigh, then slashed his belly, continued up his chest and finally sliced through the monster’s chin.
Ice Heart’s enchanted ice shell melted instantly, leaving the hoary man vulnerable. Before the ice monster could reconfigure his exterior, the devil slashed again. This time, Bruceras used a horizontal swipe, right across Ice Heart’s neck. Oh, fook.
I coalesced the flames inside me, trying to make them as powerful as possible. Ice Heart’s human body shriveled into a mass of wrinkled skin the size of a beachball. I hastily combined the flames and sent them to my hand.
I didn’t have time to develop them into a perfect circle for maximum efficiency as Bruceras turned and faced me with an evil grin. Even though I wished I had more time, it was now or never. I widened the mass of flames and heaved them at Bruceras’s midsection.
Bruceras tried to jump with his legs spread to allow the flaming mass to miss his body. Unfortunately for him, his foot slipped on a patch of ice. He didn’t get the height he wanted, and the fire slammed into his genitals. The wide mass tore through his hips too, then traveled out the backside, tearing his buttocks to shreds.
I hadn’t planned it that way, but life worked in funny ways.
A shrieking scream that threatened to pierce my eardrums cut through the frozen forest. Bruceras crashed to the ground, dark blood gushing from where his penis used to be.
“That is what we call poetic justice, right there,” I boasted. It didn’t get any more personal than this.
He stared down at his mangled manhood, and through short, chirping breaths, he said, “The fuck did you do?”
“The right thing for once,” I said. I conjured a bastard sword and planned to shove the point of the blade through his heart. The leather grip materialized in my palm, then the cross-guard took form, followed by the short silver blade.
“You’re going to pay for what you did to me,” I said, as he writhed around in pain. “I wish you hadn’t been standing next to Merlin in Machu Picchu when I pushed him out of the way. I never meant to save your life from Balor, but I did. And now I’m going to end it.”
I stood over the shuddering body of the man who had caused me more mental anguish than anyone else. I shifted my grip and got ready to plunge the blade through his chest. I caught a blurry image out of my peripheral.
Before I realized it, Bruceras had swung his hand toward me. By the time I figured it out, the glowing blade of his knife was screaming toward my belly. I sucked in my gut and backed away, but he was too quick. I held my hand out in defense and the edge of the blade chewed through my palm and didn’t stop.
The momentum continued and his shank sliced across my belly, just below my navel. The bastard sword fell from my hand and fluttered into the snow a few feet away. Before I could react, Bruceras reached up and grabbed hold of my ear.
He pulled me in and head-butted me, ramming his dense forehead into mine. Silver streaks entered my vision as a pair of gigantic hands closed around my throat. What the fook had just happened? I had been about to strike the death blow.
He rolled me over, positioning himself above me, still grunting in pain as he firmed his grip. I gagged and flopped around, trying to break free. But he was too big and too strong. I was out of energy and I’d been aging, depleting any power I might have in the reserves.
“You stole my manhood. But I am going to violate you in ways you’ve deemed unimaginable. And it’s all your fault, you stupid bitch.” He threw t
he sack with the Harp aside. I couldn’t believe he’d held onto it during the previous fights.
I thought about the meaning of the word hurricane referring to the female slaves. Something began to stir inside me. I thought about Cheryl and all the other women who’d been wronged by abusive men.
With the pent-up rage of a million women running through me, a surge of energy started in my toes and raced up to my forehead. Strength built inside me in the form of the ghosts of all those women, begging to be released. I felt my biceps swell as the oxygen almost ran out.
The world went dark momentarily, before an explosion of red nearly blinded me. A ginger storm was brewing. My eyes shot open and my hands moved without thought. I slapped up at Bruceras’s forearms and broke the chokehold. Surprise ran through his dark eyes and he went for my neck again.
I smacked his shoulder and jolted him back off me. Squirming away, I made it to my feet again. Bruceras lunged for me, his fingertips scraping my hip as I backed away. Because he couldn’t walk, he crawled after me, his arms reaching for my legs.
This fight encapsulated my fight to erase the memory of Bruceras. The damn bastard just wouldn’t go away. Now it was time to end that. I hoped that if I killed Bruceras once and for all, the horrible flashbacks would stop.
Without much energy or magical prowess, I went to the tried and true. As a dragon, fire was the easiest attack for me. Even though it had failed me earlier, I gathered the flames inside. Bruceras kept coming at me, and I backpedaled to keep enough distance betwixt us.
He wasn’t even trying to use magic. That told me his injury was so severe that either it had limited his use of magic or he had to concentrate on the wound and couldn’t access his special abilities. The orange glow on the blade returned to obsidian. Bruceras threw it aside and continued to drag his body through the snow leaving a wide trail of blood.
I felt like my belly was going to explode into flames from the fire I was gathering. Since I was trying to kill a devil, I decided to up the ante on my attack. I drew flames to my hands, and I felt them mingling with the blood in my left hand. Blood fire.