by R. R. Virdi
She was already in motion by the time I’d finished uttering her name. Ortiz moved with liquid grace in a crescent-like arc; smooth, controlled steps angling away from the Faust at a pace that didn’t compromise her aim. Her handgun cried out once. The round buried itself in Anna’s skull.
Her brain must have been located in her ass, because Anna exploded into the air. She launched a fist towards the base of my jaw.
I stepped back, clapping my hands together in hopes of catching her head between them. My balance faltered, and Anna seized the moment a bit too literally for my taste. Her arm snapped to an angle of double-jointed fuckery, and her fingers closed around my throat.
“Bwurk!” I sputtered in a freak moment of trying to exhale and steal breath at once. Five acute points of pressure filled my neck where her talons dug in. She hadn’t drawn blood yet.
Ortiz moved at the edge of my peripheral vision. Her gun stayed fixed on the Faust as she circled us slowly.
Anna ignored her, glaring directly at me. The intensity in her eyes doubled. “What exactly was that?”
I did my best to answer. It came out as a garbled mess.
The orange light in her eyes dimmed before flaring back up.
I took that as a blink.
She loosened her grip enough to allow me to breathe properly. “Let’s try that again.”
I swallowed a fistful of air. “It was a bad idea...bitch.”
“I’ll say. That was a numbing experience.”
“Kind of wished it was permanently numbing.”
Anna grinned. “It didn’t hurt so much as made me sleepy.”
So, Gnosis’ little distinction proved true. Fausts weren’t on the list allergic to bullets and blood.
Another shame.
“Maybe I just didn’t shoot you enough.” Ortiz stopped moving and gave Anna a glare of cold steel.
I arched a brow, giving Anna the best smile I could.
Sometimes when you’re staring down monsters, it’s best to smile them down. Don’t let them see you shake. Don’t let them catch onto the fact you might be scared. Sometimes, nothing bothers a monster more than having you smile in their face. It’s a tad unsettling.
I stretched my smile wider. “Maybe you should back off, Anna.” I inclined my head a fraction towards Ortiz. “She really wants to do as the cool kids do and pop a cap in your ass. My guess is several of them.”
“I really do.” Ortiz matched my smile. “Do me a favor and don’t put him down. Give me a reason to shoot you some more.”
Sometimes gunslingin’ gals like Ortiz make the world go ‘round.
“What’s the worst that happens? Maybe she’ll get lucky and go from being a New Yorker to Swiss. Get it, because of the bullets, holes—cheese?”
Anna’s lips peeled back, revealing a bit too much fang for my taste. “Good point.”
Oh no.
She snarled, twisting her body hard and wrenching me along.
Ortiz wasted no time. She fired without stop.
Anna wailed.
I lost track of what happened. A side effect of sailing through the air. A hot, blunted knife seared the outside of my left bicep. My vision flashed as the back of my neck and most of my back struck something soft.
Ortiz huffed out an oomph as she tumbled back and we crashed to the floor.
“Ow.” I blinked until the spinning stopped.
“Get off me.” Ortiz shuffled beneath me, letting out a groan.
I scrambled to my side.
Purplish fluid raced down Anna’s legs and back, spattering the floor as she ran towards one side of the room.
My fingertips brushed the concrete floor as I pulled myself to a shaky stand. I broke into an instinct-driven sprint in pursuit of the Faust.
Anna shambled in an awkward gait, favoring one of her legs as she closed in on the deep wash sink.
The mirror. Sunuvabitch!
She aimed to bolt into the Neravene.
Three guesses where.
I shouted without looking over my shoulder. “Ortiz, get Eddie out of here.” I don’t know if she heard me. My only response was an ungodly roar that dwarfed the one made by her handgun. I chalked it up to her revolver.
Anna clawed at the air in front of the mirror like she aimed to tear it away. An earsplitting crack emanated from her shoulder blade, now sporting a pinky-width hole. The momentum of the shot sent her into a stumbling spin towards the reflective glass.
I caught up, just within arm’s reach. I lashed out at her.
The surface of the mirror bowed and shimmered like a mirage.
Anna leapt, passing through it.
I jumped towards the glass with no idea if I’d follow or crash.
Not my brightest idea.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I shut my eyes, bringing my arms before my face to protect my borrowed mug. The world before me pushed back with a hint of resistance like I’d dived into a pool of gelatin. My momentum carried me forwards through a slog of air, fighting to push me back. The resistance ceased and I fell.
“Oh, fu—uff!” Pain radiated through the bones of my forearms and my sternum as I bounced off the ground. The burning sensation across the surface of my left bicep hadn’t stopped. My eyelids fluttered open after a second of labored breathing. The throbbing of my arm stole my attention.
I’d caught a stray from Ortiz’s gun. A finger-length wound that clipped the surface of my skin. I opened my mouth to swear, but the sight in front of me stole the words.
The borough of Queens stared back at me, though not as it was supposed to be. New York was painted in a palette consisting of dark, earthen browns and washed-out grays. An unseen hand had warped some of the architecture into that reminiscent of a hundred years ago. Antiquated and dilapidated structures intermingled with modern buildings. A few skyscrapers looked like they’d been stretched taller without any regard for proper proportions.
“The hell?”
“Not exactly.” Anna watched me, her eyes narrowed slits. “But stick around, I’ll make sure it’s just as bad for you. And it’ll be your final resting place.”
“Drama queen much?” I exhaled through my nose, forcing a crooked grin. My expression slipped when I noticed a faint sheen to the air in places. I tilted my head to get a better look.
Mirrors. Countless fucking mirrors that, if lore served me correct, led anywhere—everywhere!
They hung frameless and unsupported, bobbing slightly in the air. Formless things that were made of what looked like liquid glass.
The harder I stared at them, the clearer they became. It wasn’t long before half of the airspace reflected images of the twisted Queens in a mass of mind trickery.
A seamless twist of space and distance.
Everything became harder to gauge.
Maybe I should’ve smashed the mirror from the outside.
“It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?” Anna looked around, sniffing the air.
I stayed quiet. Her wounds had stopped oozing and were less grisly than before. They weren’t healing as far as I could tell, but they didn’t seem to bother her either. Something to take note of. Fausts felt pain but weren’t hindered by most injuries.
That didn’t leave me with much of an option. Not to mention I’d left my alternative plan behind. Punching my way through a Faust didn’t seem like a good bet. But stalling did.
“Your home looks like shit.” It wasn’t wittiest thing I could have said, but when in doubt, cheap insults work.
Anna wrinkled her nose. “Funny, I was about to say you look like that.”
I gawked at the creepy bat devil. “Did you just ‘I know you are, but what am I’ me?”
Her mouth spread into a dog-like grin, tongue hanging out of a corner.
Bleckh.
I needed information—fast. The longer I putzed around the Neravene, the more time would slip by in the real world and on my case. “Where are we?”
“The Hall of Mirrors.” She stared at me
like it was supposed to be obvious.
“Isn’t that something from a carnival?”
“Your ignorance astounds me.”
“Me too, on occasion. What’s new?” I quirked a lopsided smile.
She froze, unsure of how to react to that.
I glanced around to the mirrors floating everywhere. “This is a whack version of Queens. Why?”
Anna held her stare.
I thought about it, putting together what I knew of Fausts, how they operated, and my limited understanding of the Neravene. “It’s a reflection of where you operate. The when and where getting a bit blurred along the way. It’s like Queens that is, was, and can be?” It was more of a question than a statement, but the logic seemed to fit.
“Obviously.” Her voice was sharp enough to crack any of the mirrors around us. “It’s how we pick up on desires. Watch.” She waved a hand to a mirror just a few feet out of her reach.
It shimmered brighter as if pulling in more of the weak light offered in the twisted world.
I leaned to my side, thankful for the reprieve, and stared at the paranormal glass. A torrent of images raced through the mirror. My eyes and forebrain ached trying to process the mental onslaught of blurring colors and faces. The pressure built between my temples, making its way to the center of my brain. I was acutely aware of the moisture forming in the corners of my eyes and trickling down.
Desire welled inside me. My core tightened and fluttered as my brain raced into overdrive. I felt no end of wants, carnal lust, ravenous hunger, the kind of desire spurred by loss—a return of something or someone taken. My body threatened to collapse under the weight of it all. I tore myself away.
“Holy fuck!” I brought my palms to my eyes, grinding them to relieve some of the pain. The swell of thoughts and yearnings subsided, but the nausea didn’t. I stood there, pressing harder against my face. Seconds passed before the pain and mental knots vanished. “What the heck was that?”
Anna’s wing membrane spread under her arm as she gestured to our surroundings. Every mirror flashed once in unison as if responding to her motion. “Them. Everyone—every desire they have. Every want at once. All the things and what they’re willing to trade for them.”
I gritted my teeth. “Yeah, except you only accept one form of payment.”
She shrugged as if it were no concern. “True. It’s a lot to take in though, isn’t it? For something like you, it must be like trying to keep track of a million gnats all at once.”
My teeth ground as I tried to ignore her comparison between people, what they want, and being nothing more than insects to her.
“For Fausts, it’s like being handed a menu. We can filter through it and then”—she reached out to the closest mirror—“just pluck.” She pinched the air, grabbing some unseen object.
The images flooding the mirror stopped on command. One person filled the glass. A child, pre-teen, huddled without a care in a bed filled with pastel-colored pillows and a blanket. Her hair was a mess, bunched against the pillow with a quarter of it flopping over her skull to fall before her nose. She didn’t seem to mind. The kid fidgeted like she was in that place before complete sleep took her. Maybe she was trying to dream without letting go.
It was an odd angle, like the lens we were viewing this through was mounted just an inch above the height of her bed.
I figured it was a mirror set on a children’s dresser.
A barbwire band wrapped around my wrists as my hands tightened to the point I feared something would pop. The heat built and my fists shook uncontrollably. “What is this?” I could’ve cracked stone if I’d raised my voice any higher.
“A demonstration.” Anna tilted her head towards the child without breaking eye contact.
No.
Anna turned and moved.
“No!”
Too late.
The Faust’s body crashed into the mirror. Its surface rippled like it was nothing more than reflective water.
I buried my scream, letting it push me to run harder. The small bones in my ankles protested as I adjusted to face the mirror and lunged. I crashed into the surface, a dull vibration running up my forearms. I blinked several times.
Anna slipped into the dark room, looking over her shoulder at me.
My palms struck the mirror, sending a weak ripple through it like it was made of acrylic instead of glass.
The Faust moved along the side of her bed, raising a finger to her lips. She didn’t have to say the words.
And I sure as hell didn’t listen. I screamed, sending another fist into the mirror. My knuckles throbbed and the surface flexed again, but there was no give. I pounded again. And again.
Anna stopped by the child’s side, reaching out with a hand as if to brush her hair.
“Don’t you fucking touch her! Don’t you dare!” My fists pounded a chaotic drum solo against the mirror. I lost track of how many times I struck it, but I sure as hell felt every blow. The space between my knuckles felt taut and dry as needles pricked the skin. Twin splotches of blood smeared the mirror in a thin veneer.
I pulled my hands away, looking at them. Blood welled atop and between my knuckles where the skin had split. My hands shook in something besides anger.
Anna smiled. “Keep your voice down. You don’t want to wake her.”
“I’ll fucking kill you.” I hammered my fist into the mirror again before taking a step back to try another approach.
“You can’t. But don’t worry, now that I’ve got you here, I have all time in the world to take your soul. Let me just start with hers.” Her smile was replaced by a look of mock concern. “She can’t hear us—me, at least. I won’t wake her for this.” She touched a finger to the girl’s temple.
Every angry shade of red imaginable swarmed my vision. The insides of my ears pulsated with my heartbeat, drowning out my own roar. I rushed forwards, kicking out and sending my heel into the mirror.
Ripple.
Flex.
Crack.
Crack?
The anger subsided in a surprise that flushed my nerves cool. I stared at the mirror. A spider-web of cracks filled an area smaller than my palm. Shimmering particulate matter flitted out from the cracks, catching the odd light from within the Neravene.
Anna stopped like she’d been jolted by a current. She looked through the mirror at me. Her face was an immobile mask. Getting even a shred of emotion out of her was a pain.
Whatever I’d done gave Anna cause for pause. I held onto that, hoping it meant something deeper.
Anna’s lips folded in consideration before she looked away.
I caught the hesitation.
She touched the kid again, waving her other hand in my direction.
The cracked mirror flared and color rushed to fill the glass. A young girl, the same in bed, stood before me. She wore what looked like a mix of leather and metal armor fashioned in a comic book representation of an Amazon warrior. A band of dull gold ran around her head. The red and blue leather suited the tiny warrior.
She hefted a short sword, clearly made to her size, and smiled at it.
One little force to be reckoned with.
I couldn’t help it, seeing the tyke like that forced my lips into a goofy grin. “What am I looking at besides a kickass kid?”
“What she wants.” Anna’s grin almost matched mine.
I sobered and stared hard at the image.
“And something she’s willing to give up her soul for.”
Glass cracked, and a tremor shot up my leg to settle in my knee. I pulled my heel back from the mirror and sank it in again. “She’s. A. Kid!”
Anna nodded. “She is. One who knows what she wants and is in control over what to give. The matter isn’t up to you. It’s up to her.”
I screamed again, bringing the base of my fist down against the corner of the mirror. It wobbled, the action making its way to the horribly cracked portion. More lines appeared as the glass stressed further.
Anna’s mouth twitched.
A theory popped into my head. Breaking the mirror could likely stop the two-way connection between the Neravene and the child’s room. But if I did that with Anna in the kid’s room, she could end up trapped there. A devil hanging over a child.
I clenched my fists. The torn tissue over my hands burned in response. It was the best bit of restraint I could manage.
Cool it. There’s a kid in trouble. Be smart. Be patient. Think this through.
Anna worked to break my calm. “She wants to be a little hero. I can give that to her.”
“Yeah, and for how long? A week? A month? A year? I call bullshit. I’ve seen how you treat those you deal with.”
“Oh, don’t take Eddie as the norm. He made a mistake, a stupid one. The others paid attention and negotiated. They played. They lost.” Her smile stretched further at one corner of her lips.
“I caught that with Milo. Did he sign up for that shocking twist, or was that an accident?” I already knew the answer.
“Milo.” She rolled his name around her mouth like she was remembering how to say it right. “I believe he got five years. But, yes, accidents happen.”
My eyes turned to slits. “I’ll bet. Doesn’t that go against your contract?”
Anna didn’t miss a beat. “Only if I’m the one to do it.”
Oh shit.
“The Night Runners.” I’d almost forgotten. “You hired them to take us out.”
She gave me a look that said it was obvious.
“And with Fausts, it’s a binding contract. You can’t break it yourself if you want.”
Anna held the stare that said I was an idiot.
I ignored it.
“The Night Runners were your cat’s paws. You followed the letter of your contract. You, the butt ugly you, never did a thing to hurt Milo. You just put him in a position to be. And somehow you found a way to make it look like an accident—even to mortal authorities and doctors.”
Anna said nothing, but the corners of her mouth quirked enough for me to notice.
I planned to wipe the look from her face.
Something else crossed my mind. “But wait...” I shut my eyes for a moment and rubbed my forehead with my thumb and forefinger. “Milo died in the hospital. You were there, and you killed Renee.”