Blood Spelled

by Gayle Parness

  “That’s not true.” He pushed me away. “You’re frightening Jackie.” Sandra ran back to the rear of the cell and huddled in the corner again. He followed her and yanked on her arm. “Get up. Now!” When it looked like he might lose his temper with her and do something he’d really regret, I shoved past him and helped him bring the girl out, thinking she’d be much better off on the outside of that cage. She was barely able to stand. “I can help you to the bathroom.”

  “She’s not allowed. She might fall and hit her head on the tile floor.”

  “I’ll stay with her. I have to go too.” I hooked my arm in Sandra’s and brought her with me. “Get some clothes and some food for her. She’s taking a shower.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Please, Dad.” I didn’t care if I spent a week in the basement. This girl was sick and I couldn’t stand around and not do anything to help her. Sandra made a beeline for the toilet, looking more than grateful to be treated like a person and not an animal. Boy, could I ever relate.

  I started the shower. “Go ahead. You shower while I pee. If you get shaky, I’m right here.”

  She looked me over. “Is this some kind of test? Are you going to punish me for disobeying?”

  “I just got here yesterday, so I don’t know anything about this place other than the fact they’re all dangerously looney. Go ahead and shower. They gave me a room without a cage, so I had a chance to bathe earlier.” She tried to talk, maybe to thank me, but I shook my head and helped her get her clothes off, pulling the curtain back and nudging her forward. “I don’t know how much time you have.”

  She nodded and did as I said, looking resigned. To be honest, neither of us had much time. After I took care of my own business, I peeked into the bedroom. Simon wasn’t back yet. I went into the cell and took the dirty bucket and dumped it in the toilet just in case no one was going to do that for her. The whole thing was disgusting, but until I knew more there was nothing I could do.

  When Sandra got out of the shower, I rinsed the bucket out with hand soap and hot water then returned it to its place. I cleaned out the water bucket, giving her fresh water as well. God only knew how often this got done.

  The mirror had steamed up and she reached over to write on it. “Run away,” she wrote. “Get help.”

  “How?” I scrawled. I turned on the sink’s hot water tap and closed the door so the mirror stayed fogged.

  She kept writing. “Blaine knows a way. You’re strong. You can make it.”

  “You think so?”

  She nodded, giving up on the writing and whispering instead. “Zora is always working the doses and the formula. They test the meds on weaker creatures like me, then give them to stronger supes, like Simon. Most of the prisoners have died.”

  “And Crystal? Freddy?”

  “Normal once. Not evil. Without the meds they’d revert to themselves, if they could survive the withdrawal symptoms. She grabbed my arm and mouthed. “Please kill me. I can’t end up in the field.”

  “I’m a healer.”

  Her tone grew more determined. “They will use you to kill and to hurt others. They will enjoy forcing you to go against your nature.” She lowered her voice again. “Mother is working with someone new the last few weeks—someone who was impatient to have you here. Someone more dangerous than the others.”

  “Sandra!” It was Zora. “Come out here, both of you.”

  I was happy to see the windows had been closed, although Sandra was only wrapped in two damp bath towels. Plus, her hair was still wet. She had her old clothes folded over her arm. I really hoped they weren’t going to make her put those things back on.

  “Explain.” Zora was sitting at the small table, a laptop computer open in front of her. There was no sign of Simon.

  I told her what I had done and why I had done it. “She was being treated like an animal. Anyone can see she’s ill. You’d get more cooperation if you treated her properly.”

  “You think so? You were treated properly today and yet you disobeyed.”

  “You locked me in a freezing cold cell all night long. That pissed me off.”

  She actually smiled. “Your anger is legendary.”

  “How do you know so much about me?”

  “I root out the truth. It’s my gift.” Zora handed Sandra some clean clothes. “Dress and sit. There.” She pointed at the other straight-backed chair. I helped Sandra dress because she was shaking like a leaf, despite the warmer room. I crouched beside her, holding the poor girl’s hand. She squeezed mine in gratitude.

  “Do not touch her, Jacqueline. You have much to answer for, but you would not enjoy the connection.” I firmed my spine and my gaze, but Zora wasn’t looking at me.

  “Eyes on me, child. Now,” she said to Sandra. The patient was crying softly when she lifted her gaze. “Tell me everything you and Jacqueline discussed in secret.” I watched as Sandra struggled to disobey, but in the end she couldn’t. When she finished, she was sobbing heavily, so I hugged her tightly, letting her tears fall on my shoulder.

  “It’s okay.” This was more my fault than hers, but I couldn’t have left her in those conditions. “She needs food.” In for a penny, as they say.

  “She’ll eat according to her schedule.”

  I wished I’d brought those rolls with me. “Where is my father?”

  Zora closed her laptop and relaxed back into the chair. “A term you don’t normally use, is that not so?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t raise me.”

  “Simon didn’t know you existed. Do you blame him?”

  “Of course not.”

  “A tiny lie, I think, but then you lie to yourself as well. I cannot punish you for lies you do not see as untruths.” Simon appeared suddenly. “Tell Crystal to bring Blaine to my office. You may help her.” He nodded and left.

  I watched him leave, looking anxious to obey this creep. “That man is not my father.”

  “It’s true he’s missing a small part of who he was, but he functions quite normally without it.”

  “He’s not whole. He’s unbalanced.”

  Her face reddened, “Do not ever spout that Faerie shit at me!”

  “I speak only the truth, as you prefer,” I shot back.

  Zora regained her composure quickly. “Sandra, return to your cell. The dispensation of your medication will have to wait.” The girl rose and trudged back. I noticed she’d brought her dirty clothes with her, maybe hoping to use them as extra layers. The clean clothes they’d provided were made of thin materials. Zora turned her attention back to me. “Your arrival has thrown a monkey wrench in our schedule and I warn you now, I am a female who hates chaos. One more powerful than I requested your presence at the hospital, so I will hold off on punishing you for your actions until she hears of your disobedience. She may have specific plans for you. For now, you may return to your room. A tray of food will be sent up. Rest while you can. Your benefactor requires that you be strong—physically and mentally.”

  Before I left, I took off my shawl and pushed it through the bars, making sure not to touch the metal with my bare hand. Sandra smiled gratefully and wrapped it around her. She mouthed her thanks and I told her to take care. There was probably very little chance I’d ever see her again, especially after the stunt I’d pulled. But I didn’t regret a single thing I’d done. Her color had improved and the fact that she’d smiled at me, told me a lot about her emotional state. Small steps. That’s the only way to come back.

  It took me a while to find my way to my room, but as soon as the door was locked behind me, I shed the gown and took another shower to wash the stench of the day from my skin and my hair. Instead of dressing in the thin nightgown that was laid out for me, I put on my recently laundered clothing, leaving my shoes where I could grab them easily. I ate my two rolls and two pieces of bacon and curled up on the bed, meaning to think through all that I’d learned. Instead, I fell asleep.

  Chapter Ten

  The screaming woke me u
p. It was a male.

  Someone was banging on my door. “Get up, Jackie. You’re needed downstairs,” Dad said loudly.

  “I’ve been told to stay here.”

  “Mother has ordered it.”

  “Tell her you couldn’t wake me up.” Keys rattled in the hallway and the door swung open. “Goddamn it. Go away.”

  “It’s better not to curse around here. You’ll be punished…”

  “Fuck being punished.”

  He scowled at me, walking over to where I’d left my dress from yesterday draped over a chair. “Put this back on, but hurry.”

  “No. You want me downstairs, I go down like this.” Someone had left another shawl draped over a chair, so I grabbed that. It might be cold where we were going and I was only in a tee shirt and jeans.

  He shook his head. “You’re a stubborn fool.”

  “Heard it before.” I knew I was being unreasonable and maybe he was right about the foolish part, but I was so angry it was hard to think straight.

  “Perhaps you should have taken the comment to heart.”

  “Blah, blah.” I glanced at the small empty table. “I thought I was going to get some food.”

  “If you don’t change into the gown, you’ll go hungry. That’s a certainty.”

  My stomach rumbled. Pride or energy? No contest. I put on the stupid gown and followed Simon out the door, covering my shoulders with the shawl. Hopefully the food would be here when I got back.

  However, the closer I got to the sounds of the male screaming, the less I thought about eating. The Mother was standing near him, a sick presence in a house full of suffering. He was a young sorcerer, his aura a muddy mess, his clothing stained with blood and other fluids, like he’d been left in one of those basement cells for a long time. He was sitting on the couch, panting now that the pain had stopped. “Who is this guy?” I whispered to Simon.

  “Blaine. Another patient like Sandra.” Guilt stabbed me in the gut. Was he being hurt because of what I’d done to help Sandra?

  He screamed again, a heart-wrenching wail. Only no one was touching him. I glanced around the room, but everyone except his torturer was zoned out—as if they’d seen horrific scenes like this before and were unaffected by them. Where were their hearts, their consciences?

  The Mother was smiling, drinking in his pain like a demon on steroids. And didn’t a blood witch use demon magic? I glanced at my hands, a million ideas tumbling around in my brain. Did she know how powerful my own demon magic was, how I’d been trained by Isaiah, Naberia’s son, for years in how to use it? If I could somehow connect to her source…

  “This is your fault, you know.” Zora, the roto-rooter of truth was beside me.

  “What is she doing to him?”

  “Destroying a portion of his free will. It is against his nature to give in, so the struggle is most satisfying.” She sounded so smug I wanted to slap her.

  My saliva had dried up, which made swallowing difficult. “Why would you do that to someone?”

  “The Goddess cannot have him talking nonsense about a way to escape. Some of our guests may take it upon themselves to leave. Our house is surrounded by protections, so the attempt would be useless and I would lose weeks of valuable research when they died.” She looked at me. “They always die.”

  I watched her face out of the corner of my eye. She seemed calm and confident, but I sensed something else. If there were truly no way to escape, these witches wouldn’t need to dig into his brain. They weren’t sure, especially with someone as powerful as me in the house. I touched the torc. This was the key. There had to be a way to get it off.

  The more info I could gather, the better. “Are you paid by someone on the outside to keep us here?”

  “Only in your case, little demon.” I snapped my head around, my eyes wide. She’d used one of Isaiah’s pet names for me. Could he be somehow involved? Isaiah had certainly caused Charlie some problems, taking him to the Goblin Realm and tricking him into using his magic in a powerful way. But I couldn’t believe that Isaiah would want to put me through something like this. “We were paid very well, which is why it isn’t you sitting on that couch screaming. We are to hold you until the Crone returns.”

  “But why?”

  “Several reasons, none of them your concern.”

  “He continues to fight against it,” Mother complained, looking to Zora for advice. Blaine was panting, his voice too hoarse to make more than a whimper.

  Zora shook her head. “Toss him in the field. He is useless.”

  “No!” I moved forward, but my torc tightened just enough so I’d notice, but not enough to choke me. Mother wasn’t looking my way. Zora was smiling at me. “Stay, demon. Good girl.” She laughed at my furious expression. “You have no say here, demonkin. No power.”

  “Take off the torc and then we’ll see,” I snarled back. I would so love to get my claws and fangs into both of these bitches. My cheetah was snarling, pacing beneath the surface. I searched desperately for the lines that would allow me to help this tortured male. Still nothing.

  Mother strode over to where Simon, Zora and I stood. She was scowling at me. “You have disappointed me,” she announced loudly enough for everyone to hear.

  “Get used to it.” As usual my anger was getting the better of me. You’d think after thirty-six years I’d have learned to keep my mouth shut. Hadn’t that been my original plan? To play it cool, even cooperate, so I could calmly find a way to escape? Garrett and the others would be rolling their eyes right about now if they knew how I’d lost it. “Let him go. If he’s truly worthless, release him.”

  “Simon.” Mother handed him a dagger. “Kill Blaine.”

  “He won’t do—”

  “Yes, Mother.” He bowed to her and walked toward Blaine.

  “No. Stop, Dad!” I moved forward but the torc tightened again.

  “He does as he is told. He is our most promising patient to date. His blood is strong, but not as strong as yours. I cannot wait to see what the Crone has planned for you.”

  “The Crone can kiss my ass.” The torc was much tighter now. I stumbled, clutching at my neck and falling against Zora.

  “Hey!” She stepped back, but I saw an opportunity and took it, grasping her throat with my bare hands and squeezing as hard as I could. The torc tightened even more and I had to let go, but not before I socked her in the face a couple of times.

  I blacked out a few seconds later.

  My throat was on fire when I woke up in my bed, surprised that I hadn’t been thrown back in the cellar cell. I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious, but I was grateful to see a glass of water on the nightstand. I managed two swallows, but the pain was bad and I didn’t even know for sure if the water had been drugged. Better not to drink too much.

  Had my dad killed that guy? I shivered from head to toe imagining the worst. It would be a hard thing for Simon to live with if we ever got out of here. My heart broke for him, so sad that he’d been brought here, all because they knew I’d be easy to catch if they could kidnap someone who knew where I was, someone I trusted. All Freddy had to do was impersonate him, and I was in their hands without much of a struggle.

  Stupid, so stupid.

  Blaine, a guy brave enough to fight back against whatever they’d been doing to his mind, was dead. He must have been a pretty powerful sorcerer to fight for that long. But I’d always thought my dad was too, yet he’d succumbed to the medications.

  What was it they wanted to accomplish with all of these experiments?

  I frowned, fisting my hands in my quilt. It wasn’t right what they were doing to these innocents: Sandra, Blaine, my dad. I hoped Zora had ended up with two enormously painful black eyes. That’s what I’d been aiming for when I’d pounded into her, but she and Mother deserved a lot worse.

  I sat up too quickly and instantly regretted it. I was weak and dizzy, for some reason. They might have administered some kind of medication to keep me calm—to keep me sleeping.
They didn’t know my metabolism was super fast because of my cheetah genes. I was hard to knock out with medication.

  Choking off my air supply seemed to work just fine, however.

  My fingers strayed to the torc, tracing the edges, carefully twisting it to trace the other side. I winced when the torc pressed against the right side of my neck. It was still very tender. I feathered my fingers around the entire torc once more. No seam at all. But I was positive I’d heard it click when it first locked around my neck. How could they make the metal meld together so seamlessly?

  I looked over at the bathroom door and sighed. I really needed to use the facilities, but the room seemed such a long way off. Well, I wasn’t going to wet the bed. They probably wouldn’t even clean it up.

  I twisted onto my belly and slid off the bed feet first, continuing down by holding onto the bed until I was on all fours. I crawled to the bathroom, one hand and knee at a time, all the while thinking I was going to pass out again. Fortunately, I made it without incident and managed to take care of business quickly. I dragged myself up and leaned on the counter so I could wash my hands and splash water in my face. I drank a good amount of water right from the sink, fairly certain they weren’t putting drugs in the sink water. I stared at the shower longingly, but I’d probably pass out and hit my head. I crawled back, grabbing two yogurts and a spoon from the tray of food that had been left on the small table near the window. I tossed them onto the bed before grasping the edge and pulling myself back up. Food might help.

  I ate the yogurt carefully, the pain in my throat lessening with the coolness of the fruity custard and the much needed nourishment. My mind slipped into gear after I finished the first one and I was now able to prop myself up a little better in the bed. I started in on the second yogurt, determined to eat as much as I could, even if it was painful.

  Zora’s words came back to me along with the sound of Blaine’s screams. They were paid to capture me, to hold me in this house of horrors and not kill me. But who would want me here?

  Naberia was my number one guess. Was this whole scheme a plan to make me suffer? To lose my sense of self? And then what? Live the rest of my life in a mental ward? It was possible the kidnapping and mental experiments were all about torturing me because of Bridgett’s death or for some other vengeful reason, but none of it really made sense. If I knew anything about Grandmother, it was that she wouldn’t want to leave that job to someone else. She’d rather torture and kill me herself—eat up my pain to gain in strength. That was the demon way.