“The doctor can’t see it. In fact, you’re the first person who could see it.” He swallowed and I watched the motion transfer down his body like a wriggling worm. The octopus narrowed its eye at me.
“That’s crazy. How can I see it if no one else can?” I asked, already wondering if maybe it was a supernatural tattoo, or worse, some kind of mystical parasite. Please just let it be a weird tattoo.
“Because you’re a witch?” he offered, biting his lip.
“Excuse me?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at him. “Did you just call me a witch?”
“Um… aren’t you?” he asked, grabbing his wrinkled blue shirt off the back of the chair and holding it in his hands in a way that reminded me of a child with a favorite blanket.
“Do I have a cauldron? Is it bubbling and toiling?” I asked, stepping around the desk and shoving him hard with one hand. He fell backward into the chair, and it slid against the wall with a loud clack, clack. There had been a time when I cared about people seeing us, you know when I thought it might not look good for a half-naked cop to be found in a room with a female minor. That time was gone, now, thanks to him calling me a witch. I mean, have you seen a witch? Ugh.
“What are you doing?” he asked, eyes going wide as I pressed my hand to his tattoo covered flesh. The coldness of it surprised me. It was like touching a handful of snow. The thing writhed beneath my hand, and what was worse, I felt it writhing.
I opened my senses, letting the magic in the air flow around me as I shut my eyes, concentrating. Behind my closed eyes, a vision of the octopus filled my mind. It stood there looking at me with its enormous yellow eyes before tentatively reaching one tentacle toward me. Then, very slowly, it wrapped the gooseberry red appendage around my wrist.
Its suction cups clapped onto my skin with a loud slurp that made my stomach slosh as it pulled me closer. My eyes snapped open to reveal Lang sitting there, slack-jawed and unconscious. My hand was still pressed against his chest, only I couldn’t feel the tattoo anymore.
I yanked my hand backward and saw that the tattoo was gone. I glanced at my own flesh for one horrified second, worried it had transferred itself to me somehow, but immediate inspection revealed nothing. That’s when I realized the impossible. The tattoo had moved so that its horrible, bulbous head was latched onto Lang’s face like a sub-dermal mask.
Lang’s body lurched up from the chair like some kind of demented zombie. His eyes, milky and opaque, stared at me uncomprehending. His right hand seized my wrist. I tried to pull away as he stepped forward with his foot and whirled, flinging me over the desk like a sack of potatoes.
My breath whooshed out of me as I slammed into the wall and collapsed to the ground amid a rain of porcelain unicorns that shattered on the white linoleum all around. Stars exploded across my vision as I struggled to get to my feet. Lang stepped out from around the desk, hands curled into meaty fists. His mouth was clenched into a snarl, lips peeled back to reveal his not-so-pearly whites in all their glory. A low guttural snarl emanated from his throat as he took another step toward me, so loud in the tiny space that it very nearly echoed.
I hauled myself to my feet, one hand against the wall behind me and shook my hazy vision back into place. “Lang,” I wheezed as his fist came flying at me. I dodged, barely, and the sound of the bones in his hand cracking against the drywall made my stomach clench.
“Focus, Lang! You’ve got to fight it!” I cried, darting past him. He stared at me with blank, opaque eyes. “Something is trying to control you. Have some damn mental fortitude and kick it the hell out.”
He pulled his bloody, misshapen hand free from the hole in the wall and began walking toward me like a cold, uncaring machine. A chill ran down my back and my heart started pounding. He was going to try and kill me, and I wasn’t sure how to stop him without badly injuring him. I wasn’t even sure how he was being controlled… if I had a week to study what was going on, maybe, just maybe, I could find a cure, but right now? My options were limited to fleeing or trying to beat the snot out of someone who didn’t feel pain.
Lang’s eyes narrowed as blue tentacles stretched out along the surface of his skin, rippling beneath the flesh of his arms like writhing serpents. His head cocked to the side, and he smiled at me, teeth bared in a sinister grin. That’s when I realized the octopus was watching me. Its eyes had an ominous gleam to them as Lang lifted his broken hand and licked it.
“Mmm…” Lang cooed in a voice that sounded nothing like his own. Instead, it was headier, almost incomprehensibly deep and rich sounding. It rippled out between us as Lang licked his lips. The feeling of saliva running along my face was so tangible that I actually touched my face to see if it was real. It wasn’t.
“Lillim Callina, how are you?” he asked, hand dropping to his side as the air conditioner came on, blasting him with a wave of cool air that made his hair billow.
“I’ve been better,” I squawked, wishing not for the first time today, I had my swords. Then again, I wasn’t sure I could use them on Lang. At least, I wanted to believe I wouldn’t use them on Lang because he was an innocent. I wanted to believe I wouldn’t cut him down in half a heartbeat. I wanted to believe that lie… desperately.
“Have you now?” Lang said, head still cocked to the side as laughter glistened in the octopus’ eyes.
“Yes,” I said, sucking in a deep breath. Was this the warlock who had blown up the shambler? If so, why was he possessing Lang to hurt me instead of coming at me himself? “You know, someone is going to show up soon, and while they might not find you, they’ll stop Lang.”
“No they won’t,” he replied. “I’ve sealed off this room from prying eyes.” His face twisted into a horrific grin as he gestured around the room. “In this space, no one can hear you scream.”
I narrowed my eyes as my hand curled around a rather large unicorn. He watched me, uncaring as I fought the urge to step forward and smash his stupid skull in with the statue. I wanted to do it. I wanted to brain him with the statue even though I knew, I knew, it wouldn’t stop whoever was possessing the detective. It would just hurt Lang, but part of me didn’t care.
I screamed in frustration as I let go of the statue. It hit the floor with a heavy thud. “Get out of Lang,” I snapped. “Or so help me, I’ll…”
“Lillim, I need you to do something for me,” Lang said, sitting down on the desk and peering at me. “If you do, I’ll let this one go.” He paused for a moment before adding, “savvy?”
With that word I knew he was the one who had blown up the shambler. It was either that, or I was mixed up in some serious coincidences. I resisted the urge to say, “we meet at last.” Instead, I glared at him hard enough to make the air between us shimmer.
“Glare all you like, it won’t help your friend,” he declared, holding his hands wide. “But there’s still time for you to save him.”
The space between us blurred until it looked like I was watching a movie projected in the space between us. My heart skipped a beat as I watched the cyclops grab Connor by the throat and hoist him into the air like a ragdoll, suspending him over the edge of the huge tower that overlooked the football stadium. Then the creature looked right at me and made a ‘come at me’ gesture.
“You son of a bitch!” I snarled as I darted past Lang and grabbed hold of the door knob, ripping it open with a surge of accidental magic that actually tore it free of the frame.
“Oh and Lillim, try not to forget your swords this time,” Lang called behind me as the sound of hideous laughter followed me down the hallway.
Chapter 7
It was cold as hell when I threw open the door and stepped out on the rain soaked balcony at the top of the tower. It was one of those old stone cathedrals that reminded me of something you’d expect to see housing a crazed, bell-tolling hunchback. The grey stone was all dark and soot-stained as though no one had been up here to clean in years. A safety fence of black wrought-iron jutted out from the edges, but i
t was only tall enough to reach to my shoulders. I glanced up, staring at the huge stone clock face that had been carved into the surface of the tower. Why they had gone for that instead of a real clock was beyond me, but then again, judging by how most of the deck was covered in bird poop, I wasn’t sure a real clock would still work.
A blast of chilly air hit me in the face, making gooseflesh rise on my arms. I don’t know how, but in the space of time it took me to cross campus and get to the top of the tower, storm clouds had opened above me in full force, letting loose a deluge that left me drenched and shivering as lightning crackled through the sky above.
As I took a few more steps out onto the balcony so I could circle around and find the cyclops, I held my hand out into the wind and called one last time for Shirajirashii, infusing my words with power.
“Come!” I said, and the lightning overhead crackled. I had never called my weapons to me from such a distance, I don’t think anyone ever had, but I could feel them coming to me, feel them rushing to my aid. I just needed more time. But with the cyclops holding Connor hostage, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to wait for them. Besides, I could probably take a cyclops even without my swords.
The cyclops turned the corner, spotting me. He narrowed his huge eye at me, and a shiver completely unrelated to the cold sprinted down my back. He was so much bigger than I remembered him, pretty much filling up the balcony with his bulk. Behind him, I could see Connor’s unconscious body lying against the stone, but thankfully, as far as I could tell, he was still breathing.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing,” I screamed into the wind as my hair whipped around me.
“What I was ordered to do,” the creature replied, lowering itself on its haunches like a cat about to pounce. I really hoped that didn’t happen and not for the obvious reason of I didn’t want to be crushed by a five-hundred pound cyclops.
“Please don’t jump,” I said. “If you do, I’m pretty sure this balcony will give way and we’ll both fall to our deaths.”
The cyclops tilted his head toward me, considering. Then, in one fluid motion, he grabbed Connor and flung him over the side. My heart smashed in my chest so hard I thought it would explode as I leapt over the guardrail without thinking. I reached out with my hand, focused my power around me like a rope and flung it at Connor. I grabbed at him with invisible force, jerking his floppy, unconscious body toward me in a surge of will that left little spots of color dancing in my vision.
The moment my hand grabbed onto his arm, I spun my body and drove my other hand outward, smashing it into the wall of the building. There was a shriek of stone as I slid along the face of the building, gouging into it with all the strength my magic-fueled muscles could muster. My shoulder screamed in pain as we slowed, Connor’s body swinging below me like a macabre pendulum.
A moment later, I kicked off the wall and we crashed to the cement below. I stared up at the grinning face of the cyclops as he clapped his hands together like an annoying five-year-old. Evidently, I’d amused him. Swell.
“That was pretty cool,” Lang’s octopus voice said from behind me, and I whirled to see him standing there in the rain, shirt still unbuttoned and plastered to his skin. “I’d heard you were good, but I never imagined…”
“Yeah, well, wait until I get really angry,” I said, trying to block Connor’s body from view with my own.
“Then what?” Lang asked moments before the cyclops slammed into the ground between us, landing so hard he shattered the concrete. Cracks whipped outward along the walkway as he took a huge, looming step toward me, his hammer swishing through the air, absently swatting raindrops as he moved.
“Look Polyphemus, you better back the hell off before I put you down,” I snapped, my eyes narrowing. I could feel Shirajirashii getting closer, it’d be here soon. I just needed to stall a few moments longer.
“You… you know my name?” the cyclops asked, taking a step backward, awe cascading across his face as he inclined his head toward Lang. “She knows me,” he said, voice filled with glee. “The Dragonslayer knows me.”
“Um…” I said, mostly because I’d just used the first cyclopean name that came to my mind, and in that second, I felt my eyes get as wide as trashcan lids. This was Polyphemus? The actual Polyphemus who had been tricked by Odysseus in Greek mythology? Seriously? I swallowed, and I’ll admit part of me wanted to ask for an autograph.
Lang sighed, rubbing his face with his unbroken hand. “Okay, you’re famous, I get it,” he said. “Now go kill her already so we can move this whole thing along.”
“But…” Polyphemus eyed me warily, hammer held loosely to his side, and for some reason, I think dropping his name had unnerved him.
Before he could say anything, I held one hand in front of me, my fingers splayed out so that I was looking through my fingers. Very slowly, I lowered one finger.
“Valen the blood drake,” I said, then lowered my second finger. “Jiroushou Manaka.” Next two fingers. “Sobek and Crom Cruach,” I closed my thumb so that I was holding a fist. “Do you want to be next?” I called a bit of power and released it so that it flitted around my fist like tiny iridescent fish. I took a step toward them, and Polyphemus shrank back from me, which was somewhat hilarious because he was a huge mountain of a cyclops, and I’m a five-foot-nothing—seventeen-year-old girl.
“Polyphemus?” Lang asked, octopean eyes narrowing into slits above Lang’s own lifeless eyes. “What are you doing?”
The giant cyclops glanced sideways at Lang and swallowed so hard that it was like a bowling ball moved within his throat. “I’m scared,” he said.
“Be more scared of what our master will do to you if you don’t defeat her,” Lang said and lightning flashed across the sky like an angry exclamation point.
The cyclops turned back toward me, hammer half-raised before him. Before he could do more, I felt the siren’s call of my swords. I reached out, a grin spreading across my face as the blades hit my hands with a familiar thunk. I took a menacing step toward them, the pure white blades of Shirajirashii glinting in the storm light.
Even with Shirajirashii, it wasn’t like I could kill Lang, since he was just being possessed by some body jumper. Maybe I could scare the body snatcher into fleeing? That’d work.
I called upon their power, and it surged through me in the trinity of voices it always used. My wakazashi throbbed with Set’s chaotic presence. It treaded across the back of my brain like a cat stalking prey through the tall grass. I took a step forward and red light exploded from the blade, throwing off little wisps of crimson electricity that arced through the air and shrouded my face in sanguine shadow.
“Finally!” Lang cried, shouldering the massive cyclops aside as he strode toward me. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to call upon Shirajirashii.”
“Why is that?” I asked as Isis pulsed in my other hand, spinning across my mind like wisps of icy spider web. Magic crackled off the blade, blue-white tendrils dancing across its surface like electric blue ballerinas.
“Because I need them,” he said and flung one hand out toward me. “Well, more precisely, I need Set and Isis.” Red lighting exploded across the gap between us, and as I blocked with my wakazashi, the blade… the blade turned on me. Searing pain exploded under my temples. I fell to my knees, my wakazashi, Set, thrashing in my hand like a living thing.
“No!” I cried as the pure white blade exploded into a million scintillating shards that flashed through the air, swirling toward Lang’s outstretched hand in a cloud of crimson fairy dust.
Before I could even recover, Lang’s boot caught me in the chest, flinging me onto my back. Isis slipped from my hand, hitting the concrete with an empty clang. As I struggled to get up, Lang reached down and trailed his fingers across the weapon’s edge. It shattered in a spray of blue light that whirled up into the ether like a rising tornado.
Pain, like nothing I’d ever felt, ripped through my thoughts. I grabbed my head to silen
ce the screaming, crying voice of the swords as they were yanked away from me. Their ethereal fingers clawing gouges in my mind. Thunder boomed above us as Lang smiled at me, an eerie grin that made me want to punch him in his stupidly smug face.
“Well, that was easy,” Lang said, dropping the lifeless, snake-wrapped hilt of Isis to the ground besides its equally dead brother. He turned toward the huge cyclops and put his hand on its arm. “Let’s get out of here before she recovers. I think the master will be pleased, don’t you?”
“What about the last one?” Polyphemus asked, gesturing toward the busted hilts of Shirajirashii with his hammer.
“The master said he does not require the dark one.” Lang threw a glance at me, laughter in his eyes. “He is too chaotic. As long as she keeps hold of that one, it cannot interfere with his plans.” He grinned, his face breaking into a leer as he patted the cyclops. “And she won’t release him either. She’ll cling to him like a toddler hanging onto a favorite blanket. After all, he is the last vestiges of her power. She won’t give that up.”
I wanted to say something, anything to keep him from escaping, but the only thing I could do was roll into a ball as the rain came down like angry tears. Lang threw me one last glance before he and Polyphemus vanished in a puff of sapphire smoke. Overhead, the sky cleared, all at once and so quickly, that I knew the storm had to have been summoned by Lang, or more accurately, whoever inhabited his body.
That scared me. I’d only known two people who could manipulate storms like that and one was my father. The other was my mother, and she was dead.
I crawled forward, my body heavy with rain water and fatigue. This felt so much different from the last time I’d broken the swords… so different from when Haijiku had left me. This felt like a hole had been torn in my soul, and I wasn’t quite sure how to deal with that.
I reached out grabbed the bladeless hilts of Shirajirashii. A spark of life surged through me. So Apep was still there. Thank god. I held them to my chest, not saying anything. It was one thing to lose my spirits, Set and Isis. It was another to lose Apep because he wasn’t really mine. Apep, the Egyptian embodiment of chaos and darkness had been my friend Mattoc’s spirit.
Hardboiled: Not Your Average Detective Story (The Lillim Callina Chronicles Book 5) Page 6