by K. A. M'Lady
I’m not sure if it was because the circle remained on my body; Mercy, Kieran, Ien, and Garric, the steady points of the elements, channeling me with their touch. Or if it was the extra boost of Gimlit’s heart magic combined with my own. But as soon as I thought of the Light of the World, warmth and brilliance filled me like a golden chalice of eternal peace.
Slowly, methodically, I could hear the screams of all those souls retreating, wounded and screeching like the fluttering of broken wings scurrying to the darkest recesses of the world. Their moans of agony drowned out by the soothing glory of Light.
As warmth washed through me, chasing away the lonely chill that is the taint of evil, my body began to slowly calm, the thrashing subsiding as warmth began to fill me and the cold Darkness of hatred began to recede.
“It’s working,” Garric said, his fingers loosening where he clutched my right ankle.
“It is. Look, she’s starting to glow,” Ien said with a sigh, the tension visibly lessening in his shoulders.
“Don’t let go of her,” Gimlit anxiously told them. “The Darkness is a liar and a corruptor. It will make us think she has been released when she has not. It will look for our weakness and use it to its advantage. Don’t let go of her just yet.”
Cage and the other cops had finally returned to their senses and began to gather around our small circle, fear and disbelief marring many of their faces.
“Jesus, what’s wrong with her?” one of the uniforms asked.
“She’s fucking glowing like a nightlight,” someone said, and a few of the cops took a step back, afraid to get too close.
“Gimlit, what’s wrong with her?” Cage asked, concern once again lacing his words as he looked on with shock.
“She’s channeling the Darkness, and we are trying to rid her soul of its evil taint.”
“Jesus,” he said, his eyes wide as he watched, clutching the grip of his gun as if it would protect him.
My body felt warm and numb, and I could hear the souls scurrying around inside me, looking for a place to hide from the Light. I gritted my teeth in pain as the Darkness tunneled its way through my body, still seeking a way out. I grasped onto that one thought--Light--knowing it was the only way to be free of the madness, to be free of my father.
He screamed though my mind, You will never be free of me! his rage washing through me like a tidal wave, pressing against my Light. My body began to buck and rock in pain as his voice tore through my mind like claws as I tried to throw Gimlit off me. In my fit of pain I managed to kick free of Ien’s hands, my leg flailing wildly as my father’s Darkness roared against my mind, trying to rip me to pieces from the inside out.
It felt as though we were fighting for my very soul and I shrieked, using all of my strength to try to swing my arms out, my hands clenched in fists. Kieran held firmly onto my right shoulder, using his Vampiric strength to his full advantage.
“Fight him, lass. Call your Light and fight him,” he encouraged as he firmly held on to me.
“Call the Light, Rihker,” Mercy added, bearing down on the other side of me.
“Call the Light.” Garric said, following their lead.
Every time someone said the word Light, I could feel it grow stronger. Somehow I clutched on to that word, repeated it over and over in my mind. I said it like a chant, pleading for help, pleading for the Light to fill me. I focused all of my will and thrust it towards Kieran, praying that somehow he would hear me through our bond of blood.
You will never be free, my father growled like a demon bent on my destruction in the dark recesses of my mind. You were conceived of the Darkness, and you shall return to the Darkness.
Then his voice softened and he tried to seductively persuade me. Walk beside me, daughter. Take your place, he coaxed, trying another angle.
“Never!” I yelled, my voice carrying through the night as I thrashed out, straining against those who held me.
“We must help her call the Light,” Kieran said as he looked at Gimlit, conviction in his eyes. “She needs us to help her.”
“Then we do it as one. All of us!” he said, his voice carrying so that all of the cops who were gathered could hear him.
“Cage. You and your men, too.”
“What do we do? How do we call the Light, and what is it?” he asked, unsure of the magic.
“The Light of the World, Cage. It’s the Light of your Creator. Only good will destroy the evil,” he told him, shaking his head at the cop. “How the hell have you hung around as many Others as you have and still not understand us?” Gimlit asked. “Never mind, just pray, say a psalm, or sing a hymn. Whatever you do to send away the Darkness. We do it now. Together.”
Like a litany of psalms to the heavens, their voices rang out softly at first as they tentatively lifted up their voices: each man calling on God, Allah, their Host, or Spirit. Whoever or whatever they prayed to, their voices called out in unison for the Light of the World to fill their daughter and cast the evil away.
Gradually, as their courage strengthened and their fears evaporated, I could remember that Light was the Way as the voices screaming through my mind rocketed through me like escaping poltergeists; each one thrashing against me, fighting the Light before it finally became too much for them and they were thrust out of my body. Each one made a popping sound in my mind as it was forced from me, as it ran from the purity and strength of the Light.
The thrashing once again began to subside, the Darkness fading as my father’s voice wafted through my mind. This is not finished--daughter, he vowed. And I was certain he spoke the truth.
As the last dark spirit left me and my body finally calmed, I was glowing with enough Light to illuminate the farmer’s entire bean field. When I opened my eyes, the warmth of seven summers filling me, Gimlit smiled at me, relief and concern bright in his turquoise eyes as he sighed, “It is done.”
That light, all at once, to spark the unsteady
From Jean-Paul de Dadelsen by Hédi Kaddour
Translated from the French by Marilyn Hacker
Chapter Twenty-Five
You would think that the Court would be a little more appreciative of the fact that I’d sent their damned Were-munching, cop-killing, skinless, bloody husk of a Shadow Land Ogre back to the wondrous land of Oz. But noooo. Call me crazy for thinking. Those ungrateful, hump-backed, snaggle-toothed, pus-oozing crossbred lug-headed curs.
I spend four days in the hospital with a concussion, get my guts ripped open, ruined my best outfit and for what? A two-month suspension!
Apparently I disobeyed a direct order by my Queen--the bitch with wings. Got a few too many humans killed by not showing up soon enough--the lame asses. And displayed my powers in a way to evoke too much interest in the Other World.
Now what kind of shit is that, I ask you?
Oh, pardon me for being herded into a cop’s truck at gunpoint. As if I had a choice but to disobey my Queen. And if the stupid humans would have called me sooner rather than trying to play Rambo with a fucking death-walking upright Shadow Land Ogre--Hello! Maybe a few less of the hero-for-a-night wannabes wouldn’t have gotten their asses kicked. As if that’s my fault.
And as far as the use of my power, maybe next time I’ll just let the Darkness overtake me. Then maybe my psycho father and I can run amok together and kick all of their asses.
Did I tell the Court this? You bet your ass.
“Now, Rihker, calm down. There’s really no need for all of this anger,” Drae was saying as I stood in his overly small, overly black-lacquered office at the Silent Court while he waited for me to turn in my ID.
I was so pissed off, his little corner office was glowing like a supernova.
“This is fucking bullshit on toast!” I said, my voice raised enough to shake the glass of his windows.
“I know you’re angry, Rihker. But you’ve got to understand. We can’t have you or any Others showing that much power to the humans,” he quickly stated, trying to appease me.
> “Angry! This isn’t even close to angry, Drae.” I told him. “What the fuck was I supposed to do, let that son of a bitch just take me over and cart me off to the Darkness? Would the Court have liked that?” I shouted.
“No. No, we wouldn’t. Surely there was another way,” he said, his eyes darting around the room as if he was waiting for the windows to blow out from the glow. “You just need to calm down, Rihker. We’ll get this all straightened out.”
“Calm down? You calm the fuck down. You’re not the one being suspended.” I started to pace back and forth in the tight space of his little office. For someone that was supposed to be a high-ranking member of the Court, Drae sure got all the shitty jobs. And he had a shitty little office to boot, despite that everything was black and shiny. It was still small, cramped and had the personality of a paper sack. A black paper sack, mind you, but a sack just the same.
“Besides, it won’t be so bad, Kieran will be there with you,” he was saying as I huffed about his office.
“What do you mean, Kieran will be with me? You said three days,” I said, stopping to glare at him. “By my calculation, my three days are up.”
“Well, there may be a slight problem,” he hedged.
“What kind of problem?” I could feel the steam beginning to boil. Whatever he was going to say wasn’t going to be good. I just knew it. Drae was fast becoming the Troll of Trouble, the Judge of all Jack Shit. I all but growled at him as I stood there and stewed.
“It seems Jirvel and her pack of wolves has helped themselves to his establishment, Silence on the Moor. It seems she has decided to take up residence.”
“Not my problem, Drae. My three days are up,” I reiterated, crossing my arms under my chest. I’m sure I was now showing my teeth as I waited for the other bomb to drop.
“Actually, it is,” he replied, sitting back in his chair, a smug look crossing his pitted face.
And here it comes.
“You’re being ordered to allow him refuge until further notice.”
“What?” I roared. No fucking way! I was not a Vampire hotel, or a halfway house for woebegone Others. This was so not happening.
“There is a war starting, Rihker. And like it or not, you are right in the middle of it. The Death Stalker stays. Now get out.” He picked up his phone.
“You can’t do this to me!” I said, stamping my foot.
“We can. And we have. Now get out.”
“But...” I stammered. They couldn’t make me do this--could they?
“You could become a guest of the Court if you would like to disobey a direct order,” he spat, his pocked face growing red with irritation.
“This is far from finished, Drae,” I growled heading for the door.
“Go home, Rihker. And for once, do what you’re told,” he said, punching in a phone number as he dismissed me.
“Whatever.” I jerked the door open.
“Oh, and Rihker,” he said as I turned to glare at him. “The next time you’ve an appointment with your Queen, be sure you keep it.”
I slammed his door behind me. Fuck it, this day was shit on toast.
* * * * * *
I spent the rest of the afternoon driving around town. I was too pissed off to go home. Besides, my house was full of people, people that I didn’t want to see. I had three Vampires a-snooze in my basement, and six Weres wandering around in my house.
I guess having a few females around for camaraderie wouldn’t be so bad. The female Vamp that had originally come with Kieran and Marcus--her name was Lily, and I’d met her the night before when I walked in on her and Ien getting it on with one of the Werepanthers in my guest room.
I believe they called the Werepanther Jet--they said it was because she was so dark. She had deep, dark skin that was so black it looked like purple coal. Her eyes were charcoal-dark diamonds, and she had long black cornrows that hung past her small, tight ass.
They were polite enough to ask if I wanted to join them, and I actually considered it. Lily’s pale white body, lush and lean against the darkness of Jet, was truly a sight to behold. Lily was as opulent with her pale white hair and bright blue eyes as Jet was dark and exotic. But I declined. There just weren’t enough men to go around.
Ien seemed a bit disappointed.
The other Werepanther stalking my house was a male named Berg. He stood about five-eleven, and was so ordinary looking you almost didn’t even notice him. He had a nice neat haircut, a clean-shaven, sturdy face, and broad shoulders over a good, sturdy physique. Basically, he was an average kind of Joe.
Until you looked at his eyes, that is. They were pure golden yellow and when he smiled, you could see his sharp protruding teeth.
Apparently Berg spent a little too much time in the jungle. He liked his beast and his beast liked him, hence the golden eyes and permanent panther teeth. It was kind of eerie when he smiled at you--that everyday normal face with teeth sharp enough to rip your face off.
I had no idea what any of their stories were; the Werewolves, Werepanthers, Dragon or the Vamps. But all of them were Kieran’s, and all of them were staying until further notice. That meant that the Others that were sent to The Mound, which was Kieran’s other nightclub, would have access to my home as well. Including Mercy.
No, this was not sitting well with me. So I drove around town until my anger dissipated enough not to start shooting off balls of light at innocent bystanders and setting their asses on fire just for being in my way.
When I was able to breathe normally, I stopped off at Bad Ass Coffee, my favorite coffee shop, and got a tall one, black as pitch. As soon as I wrapped my hands around the warm swirling darkness and grabbed a booth in the back, closing my eyes to breathe in the wondrous aroma, I heard the one voice I prayed I would never again have to hear this side of hell.
“Obstinate child,” Maebe scolded, reading my mind as I opened my eyes on a sigh.
“Hello, witch. Come to torment me?”
“Burn, you will, for your loose tongue,” she said with a nod.
“What do you want, Maebe? I’m having a bad enough day without you in it.”
Her head cocked and she twisted her neck this way and that, as though she were listening to voices that only she could hear. Then she reached forward with her bony fingers and clutched my hand in hers. “Death is stalking you, child,” she whispered.
I couldn’t help but snort. “Please, Maebe. Tell me something I don’t know. I’ve got three Death Stalkers camped out in my damned basement, for cripes’ sake.”
“Ah, child,” she hummed. “The Darkness has merely been nicked and is licking its wounds, but it has not been beaten. He will come again,” she declared. “You must find the Book. Look to the Others, they will show the Way. There is much for you to learn. You will find your answers in the sins of the Darkness and the healing arms of the Light. The Others, they will show you the Way,” she said. Then, in a blink she was gone, as though she had never even been there.
“Fucking screwy witch,” I swore as I looked out over the coffee shop. She was as bad as Flec, popping in and out with her hou-ha bullshit. The Others will show you the Way. Paleease!
“Next time, come up with something a little more original, witch,” I grumbled, grabbing my coffee and heading for the door. I decided I might as well go home. The sun was just about to set anyway. And by the looks of the full moon that was rising big and bright over the field down One Seventy-three, it was going to be a beautiful night.
I pulled into my driveway, expecting to see every light in my house on and people milling about like it was party haven. I mean, what else was there to do on a Wednesday night in rural America? And since all the Whoville Whos were now officially residents of my home until further notice, it’s not like they had anywhere else to be.
But to my utter amazement, the front porch light was the only thing glowing. It looked like the house was completely empty, and had been for days. Gimlit’s Jeep wasn’t even parked along the side of the house
where it usually was, which was weird, because he hated to drive anywhere. It was a matter of space.
When I walked in the house I noticed two things: the thick scent of jasmine filling the air, and the haloed glow coming from my bathroom. Throwing my keys on the coffee table, I wandered down the hall, a very good idea who I’d find waiting for me brightening my mood.
My boots were silent on the carpet as I reached the bathroom door; partially opened, steam wafting into the hallway. Pushing it open, the sight before me made my knees quake and my mouth water.
Lounging in my tub, bubbles surrounding him, his long dark hair wet and gleaming in the light of fifty candles scattered all over my bathroom, Kieran reclined like a dark gift. He opened his eyes as the breeze from the hall stirred the heated air and made some of the candles flutter. Turning those dark amethyst eyes towards me, he said, “Good evening, lass. I’m so glad you have returned.”
“Are you?” I asked, closing the door behind me to lock in the warmth. Seeing him all naked and bubbly was the only bright spot in my shitty day. And I was definitely glad that no one had returned the tub to its place in the storage shed.
He smiled at me, and it was pure sinful delight. “Of course,” he said his eyes darkening with heat and hunger. “I was hoping with everyone gone for the evening that you would like to join me.”
My toes were beginning to curl as the heat of his words rushed through me. He was using his voice to spur on my desire. He knew it, and I knew it. But somehow, I just didn’t care. After the day I’d had, I deserved a little pleasure.
“Where exactly did everyone go?” I asked, watching him trail his fingers through the water, his lean chest glistening with droplets of water as the bubbles that failed to cover the top half of his body hid the rest of him like a delectable dream.
“Do you really care?” he questioned, watching me closely.
I thought about it for about two seconds. No, I didn’t. Not with him naked and sudsy in my bathtub. They could have flown to the ends of the earth for all I gave a shit.