by Lucy Auburn
So I tilt my chin up towards him, let the light gleam off my blonde hair and my hopefully soft-looking, slightly wet lips, and ask him, "Can you spin me around? That's always been my favorite dance move, and you're so strong. I bet you could spin me halfway across the room and catch me effortlessly."
He smirks, the egotistical bastard. "Of course, my darling Ellen. The song is almost over, and a big finish is just what it needs before we begin the ceremony."
Puke puke pukity puke. I make myself smile at him as he moves his hands to mine and spins me across the shiny floor. The music from the enchanted orchestra crescendos as I reach the end of the spin, my fingers loosely connecting to his, back to him and one arm free.
Slipping my right hand casually into my bodice, I pull the shears out, and hold them at my side. As he draws me back towards him, I slip the shears behind my skirts, letting him grab me and dip me in his arms.
Looking up into his face, I can almost believe that there was once a man where only a monster now remains. He was friends with my father, after all, and while I hate what Vincent Arizona has passed onto me—the bloodthirsty desire to kill people wasn't exactly my greatest desire growing up—I know he wasn't a truly bad man. I have to wonder how he was friends with Lothario unless there's more to him than meets the eye.
I won't be the one looking beneath the surface for the prince the beast turns into.
As he gathers me out of the dip and draws me to him, clearly expecting a kiss, I bring the rusty shears between us.
And stab straight towards his beautiful blue eyes.
Chapter 3
He grabs my hand, his strength immeasurable, frowning as he grips my wrist so tight my bones begin to squeal. My heartbeat roars in my ears, and I try to fight his grip, but he has me fast.
There's an impossibly dark rage on his face.
"You were supposed to be the one, Ellen." Ripping the shears out of my hand, he drops his grip on me, and my legs slide out from under me. "You were going to restore my powers completely. Give me balance. Sanity. We were going to change the world—finish your father's goals. I was going to tell you his secrets. But you persist on being rebellious beyond the point of reason."
"Kidnapped women are often like that. You should try a willing bride for your next wedding."
Scrambling back on the shiny hardwood floor, I try to find the surge of power that resides within me and get only a trickle. It should be enough, I hope, to do something. As he advances on me, I lift my hand and blast the power at him.
It lands like a punch, folding him in the middle and temporarily stopping his advance. Jumping to my feet, I look around for a way out and find only a door I haven't been through yet. So I lunge for it instead of going down the hallway, hoping maybe it won't fold back on itself and bring my path back to the ballroom.
As I close the door behind me, his voice rings out, angry and loud through the wood. "You can't expect to defeat me, Ellen. You're untested."
Only half-listening, I scrabble for something to block the door in the darkness of wherever I am, and find an old sword hanging on the wall. Pulling it from its scabbard, I jam it through the door handle and into the soft wood—just in time to stop Loth as he arrives at the door.
He continues, "Your powers are nascent. Until you accept your fate and your Conduits, you won't be able to fight someone like me." Turning around, I let my eyes adjust to the darkness, searching for the anger that's carried me through so many sticky situations. I find it deep within, a well of hot hatred, and let it fill my body with rage.
I plunge into darkness, the Black Serpent's voice nipping at my heels. "But you don't need to accept four young, untried, broken men into your life to get your full powers, Ellen. If you bond with me, it'll be as if you've accepted all four of your Conduits at once. And unlike those boys they've put you with, I don't have a weakness. The one who came for me could barely walk—do you really want a man so weak and broken to be yours?"
Grayson is a stuck-up ass who dips his fingers into other people's minds without permission and acts like a know-it-all, but he still doesn't deserve that. Limp or no limp, he's a far better man than Loathsome—which is saying something, given that I've daydreamed about putting my hands around Grayson's neck and squeezing.
A bum leg doesn't make anyone weak. And men are so much more than the sum of their physical strength. They're their personalities, too—which in Grayson's case leaves him severely lacking for reasons that have nothing to do with his use of a cane.
The dark hallway I'm in appears to be some kind of servants entrance or something. Damp brick closes in on either side, the floor no longer nice and gleaming but instead warped and worn from time. I follow the twisting turns and switchbacks, glad when I get far enough away that I don't hear the Black Serpent anymore.
That, or he's gone somewhere else, likely to the other end of this hallway to catch me as I try to escape. The thought makes me half-jog through the darkness, desperate to go as fast as I can even if it's probably unwise.
I can't get his last words out of my head. If my powers won't work fully unless I've "accepted" the Fuckfaces into my life—and I have the feeling that Loathsome means accepted in the going-to-pound-town kind of way—that's some real bullshit I'd rather not be true. It would explain why my abilities have been so touch and go, and why they've nearly deserted me while I'm here, not to mention the fact that they didn't fully show up until after I saw the guys outside the police department.
But it's some kind of primordial bullshit, and if there's a way around it that doesn't involve hitching myself to Loathsome's wagon, I'd much prefer option B. I've only got one vagina, after all, and two of my Conduits are Grayson Hughes and Levi Ward. The less said about that pair, the better—even if they do have model handsome faces and physiques to go with their sour personalities.
At a certain point in the length of the hallway, I start to feel the ground tilt upwards again, as if I'm heading out. A new scent hits my nose and touches my tongue as I test the air: salt water. Wherever this long winding hallway leads, it eventually empties out near some kind of ocean—which explains why the brick walls around me are slowly turning into packed dirt and stone.
If the Black Serpent weren't a stupid man, he would've blocked access to this door before he took me. But I have the feeling that he thought his non-existent charm would have gotten through to me by now. Little does he know Ellen Arizona can't be charmed by jerks. Not anymore.
As the smell of salt water grows, a light starts to appear at the end of the tunnel. I dare to hope that the asshole lied, and there might actually be a way out of this place. If I get out, I swear the first thing I'm doing is going to Vincent Arizona's grave and demanding answers—maybe I can even summon his spirit and get it to talk to me, if Grayson and my Spiritual Affinity cooperate.
Before I can get too excited or make more plans for the future, a familiar shadow passes in front of the light ahead of me. I freeze, moving back into the darkness, thoughts racing.
"Ellen." His voice is far away but unmistakable. "I told you, this place is mine. I shaped it as I wanted it to be. And it's a pocket dimension—what makes you think you can escape? There's a reason why I left that door unlocked: there's no way out. Now, come to me, and put aside this nonsense. I'll even give you an extra day or two until our wedding, so you can get used to the idea."
I roll my eyes; of course he would think that's some kind of generous offer. The real generosity would be to let me out—or preferably, to have never taken me in the first place.
Thinking, I decide to try my powers again. They worked briefly inside—maybe they've recharged enough by now to work again. But my force field isn't powerful enough to blast him off his feet, that's clear. My ability to speak to the dead and supposedly see into the future won't be useful, either.
So let's hope that whatever outside exists in this pocket dimension, it comes with little furry animals. We ate meat in the dining room—hopefully he didn't pick it up at the
closest inter-dimensional grocery store.
As I reach inside me for power, I think of Wyatt. And little Penny with her upturned face and cute tiny meow. If I disappear off the face of the planet, Eve will take care of her I'm sure, but it won't be the same. She likes me best already, and I don't know how I'll ever fall asleep again without her kneading biscuits on my stomach.
My Emotional Affinity lights up inside me, but the only living things nearby are the bugs and worms in the ground. Slowly, carefully, I take a few steps forward, aware that at any moment Lothario could decide to just come and fetch me instead of waiting at the mouth of the tunnel.
He really does have a stupid name. No wonder he goes by Black Serpent. If people knew the truth, they'd stop being scared of him.
As I get closer to the mouth of the tunnel, my awareness widens. There's a whole world out there—well, at least a small forest. If I squint past the line of trees, I can see a vertigo-inducing double image of the castle I'm in. Just like Loathsome said, there really isn't any escape from this hellscape.
But that doesn't mean I'm going to lay down and take what he's doing. There's a way in and out of here—he brought me here, after all. If his powers don't work right like he said, then it must be an enchanted inanimate object. All signs point to the gaudy ring he wears around his neck, just like the one Eve has courtesy of the Shadow Fold, that does vague things she won't really tell me about.
If I get that ring, maybe I can beam-me-up-Scotty my way out of this place. It's a bit of a long shot, but it's the only one I've got.
"I can hear you, Ellen." This close, he's practically purring. "I'll wait for you to come to me. Maybe now that you've learned the error of your ways, we can have a civilized discussion. There's so much your father would want you to know if he was alive. Don't let his legacy die with him."
I ignore the prick of curiosity that wakes in my chest at his words. Whatever secrets he has that concern Vincent Arizona, they're probably bullshit, and if they're not, it's nothing I need to know to survive. I'm definitely not letting him poke me with his banana just to find out my sperm dad had halitosis and cried himself to sleep at night while listening to Pearl Jam.
I've finally gotten close enough to feel a whole woodland's worth of animals. There are little scurrying mice and chipmunks in the fallen leaves that gather near tree roots, and chirping birds in the branches. The crows interest me the most; clever corvids that they are, their emotions are energetic, their minds full of curiosity. I've tamed them before. Maybe I can tame them again.
To influence them, I'll have to get closer. So, with resignation, I step into the circle of light at the mouth of the tunnel, and let Lothario see me.
"Good. You've come willingly. I didn't even have to bribe you." He smirks, raising a brow. "We are getting somewhere. Maybe, with a whole forty-eight hours to get to know me better, you'll learn to love me as I know you're destined to. Doesn't that sound nice, Ellen?"
I guess I'm not a very good actress anymore, because I just can't seem to fake it. Grinding my teeth, I tell him, "Bite me."
He frowns. "Well, if that's what it takes you arouse you, I'm more than willing to give it a—"
The next word out of his mouth will make me vomit. And while it would be nice to ruin his leather shoes, I have better things to do. Raising a hand, I call to all the clever birds in the trees, hoping this will work, and give them one goal: Loathsome's ring.
Treetops shake as the birds take flight. The Black Serpent turns around, frowning, his sentence forgotten.
He comes face to face with a cloud of tiny feathered dinosaurs.
They descend on him in a mob of dark, sleek feathers. Almost all are crows, though there are a few woodpeckers and sparrows nestled in their midst. And while they might not be the raptors they're descended from anymore, they have claws and beaks, wings and plenty of anger. I feed them my emotions, whipping them to a frenzy, and insert the target into their heads.
My birds are fierce. But Lothario is a grown ass man; he swipes at them and bellows in rage, throwing feathered bodies to the ground. Heart twisting, I rush into the fray, reaching out towards his neck.
One of the sleek black crows has grabbed the ring and is trying to get away with it. Lothario has the other end, though, and is holding it tight, cursing. His eyes are closed as claws rake over his scalp and cheeks. The air is filled with cawing and screeching, and more than one wing clips my face and hair as I reach for the ring, fingers trembling.
The moment has to be right.
As a break in the feathers appears and Loathsome's hand slips just a little, a tiny beak digging into his fingers, I snatch the ring. It's still around his neck, but unlike the birds I'm strong; I rip it until the chain snaps, drawing a bellow of anger and pain from my target.
While Lothario swipes at the remaining birds and wipes blood off his neck and into his eyes, I frantically jam the ugly ring onto my finger and stare down at it.
"C'mon, c'mon..." Shutting my eyes tight, I picture the closest thing I can to home: Eve's expansive room at Cain University, her loft full of weapons, a bed I've only recently begun to be able to sleep in, and the soft fur of a pretty little kitty underneath my fingers. "Take me there, c'mon already."
I open my eyes and stare into the scowling, bleeding face of a mass murderer.
"You underestimate me, Ellen." He raises the knife he used to disarm us in the garage apartment, the ring looped around the tip. I was concentrating so hard on going home that I didn't even feel it fly off my finger. "I'm disappointed in you, but I'll chose to forget this little incident. Next time you won't be so lucky.
With despair, I watch him put the ring back on his own finger. The birds are already flying off around us, dazed as they shake off their strange rage. A few of them fly a little lopsided from being batted around, their injuries for nothing.
If I'd somehow kept the ring for a little bit longer, I'd be freed by now. But I doubt he'll give me a second chance to steal it from him—the look on his face makes that clear.
He's probably considering shoving it up his tight ass cheeks and daring me to take it out.
I just have to hope that he likes me enough to keep his word about delaying our nightmare of a marriage—and that in the meantime, my powers will somehow grow strong enough that I can take it from him again, this time for long enough to teleport home.
"Come with me."
He takes my elbow in his hand, and when I try to get out of his grip, scowls, sweeps me off my feet, and throws me over his shoulder.
It's not nearly as romantic as they make it in the movies. For one thing, his shoulder is shoved into my gut, and for another, being swept off your feet by a guy feels exactly as disorienting as it felt every time Eve did it while combat training me.
As he carries me back inside and up the stairs to my new bedroom, the Black Serpent is entirely silent. That's how I know that I've pushed my luck to the limit—next time, he really won't be so relaxed about my escape attempts. Given his reputation as a serial killer, he might just lop off both my hands and feet.
So I'll have to really get out this next time. No more chances. This next one has to count.
Good thing I have one more surprise hidden in me tonight.
Kicking open the door to my room, Loathsome stops for a moment, inhaling deeply. In a choked off voice he asks, "What is that putrid stench?"
"Me." I smirk, letting another stinky, room-clearing, mouth-coating fart loose. "Your shoulder is lodged so deep in my middle that it's giving me indigestion. Maybe you should just put me down on the bed and—"
I don't have to ask twice. Throwing me unceremoniously down onto the covers, his face a mixture of revulsion and shock, the Black Serpent hightails it out of my newly-stench-filled room without even pausing to say something creepy or trying to cop a feel.
Smug, I breathe deep, and gag a little.
One thing I'll give Levi, he was right. My farts are a fate worse than death.
I don't sleep i
n my great big canopied bed made for a kidnapped bride. It's not the dust or the lingering scent of mothballs in the air that keeps me up, though. Like my mom always said, I could sleep anywhere—physically, at least.
I'm up because I have too much to think about. Things like: what happened after the Black Serpent teleported me here? What did Eve do? Grayson was there too, not that he was much use, with his ill-timed attempts to get into the Serpent's head. Loathsome still has the cane that he took from Grayson—all those weapons are no doubt hanging on the wall in his bedroom now, after being taken from the leather loops on his back where he keeps them.
Maybe Headmaster Shu has a team of people looking for me. But what would they do, comb through the no evidence and complete lack of, well, anything? This is a pocket dimension, whatever that means. It's basically a No Man's Land as far as these things go.
So I can't count on a rescue. I'll have to get myself out—by taking that ring. Hopefully it works just by picturing where you need to go, or I'll be in deep shit.
I keep hoping for the doors to show up. If they wanted me at Cain University so badly, they should want me back there again. But their death-carved oaken doors never appear.
Eventually, I fall asleep, because I've run out of plans to make and things to ruminate on. The pillow I push my face into is probably old enough to be made mostly of dust mites and the tears of other kidnapped women, but at least it's soft.
If I dream, I don't remember them. I just wake up as the sun rises in the distance—isn't that scary to think of, a pocket sun in a pocket dimension, unless this is the real sun shining through time and space. At first I think the light of the sun is what woke me up, but then I feel them on my back.
Four dainty little paws pressing down against my ribs.
My heart soars, and I peel my eyes open. At the last second, it occurs to me: this could be some kind of feral possum or something on my back. Maybe it has rabies and it'll bite me.