“Anyone hungry?” I taunted. I stepped toward the imps. There were at least eight sets of eyes, maybe more. They charged as one. Hacking and slashing, I spun into their midst, feeding the pet wood energy as each imp died. It was over too fast, leaving me standing in a cloud of imp dust, laughing and breathless. “That’s how it’s done, folks.” I examined myself to make sure none had gotten through my wild defenses. I was clean. I looked about the area but could find no reason why the imps had congregated in that spot. “Is that it? Is that all you’ve got?” I demanded of the darkness around me.
Something large moved at the edge of my vision, kicking a nail against a sheet of metal. I spun. A dog stood a few feet away at the edge of the house. It looked like a cross between a Doberman pincher and a pit bull, except it glistened ink black in Primordium, like wet blood in moonlight. It growled deep in its throat.
“Aw, shit,” I muttered. It was definitely evil. It also had moved something in the real world. I looked at my pet wood and then at the dog. Something told me the pet wood wasn’t going to cut it.
Oddly, it didn’t rush me. It stood at the corner and growled. I maintained eye contact with the beast’s large glowing eyes and fumbled in my pocket for Medusa. I needed someone who knew what they were doing. I needed Doris.
“Good evil doggie. Stay there for a moment while I figure out how to kill you.” I silently thanked Rose for programming everyone’s phone number into my contact list, and selected Doris’s name. After three long rings, she picked up.
“Hello.”
“Doris, it’s me. Madison. I’ve got a problem.”
“I’m in LA. What do you expect me to do?”
“Coach me. I’m looking at a dog of some kind.”
“Where are you?”
“Does it matter? There’s this huge dog and it’s black in Primordium and it’s real—solid. Right now, it’s looking at me like I’m its next meal.”
“Ah. A hound. Must be a weak one if you’re still standing there.”
“Can we boost my confidence later? What do I do?”
“Did you get a weapon?”
“Pet wood. A flashlight.”
“That’s it? No knives?”
“This is all I’ve got.” The hound took two steps toward me and stopped again, growling. “Look, can we hurry this up?”
“Okay, okay. What’s it look like?”
“I told you. Hungry.”
“No. Look at it with normal eyes.”
I blinked. The dog was a dark blob against the dark building. “Scrawny. Homeless. Like it hasn’t eaten in a week.” I blinked back to Primordium. “Why is it real? You know, physical. Solid. I thought all the evil creatures only existed in Primordium.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
Crap. I’d assumed based on the one evil creature I’d encountered: imps. Of course, now I remembered Kyle saying imps were the weakest evil creature. My fear ratcheted up a level. The hound didn’t look weak. If it attacked, its teeth weren’t going to pass through my soul. They were going to shred my flesh. “Why didn’t you tell me there were worse things than imps?”
“There are worse things than imps.”
“Gee—”
“There are worse thing than hounds, too. Are you having second thoughts now?”
Hell yes! “I’m staring into the eyes of a starved hound. I don’t have time for second thoughts. Tell me how to deal with it.”
“Time to see what you’re made of, Madison. I hope you didn’t scrimp on the wood. Fill that pet sucker up with as much juice as it can take. You’re going to have to hit the hound with a lot more lux lucis than the imps. And your wood isn’t going to sink into it like it does with imps. Oh, and when you go for the hound, don’t let it bite you. Bites from a hound injure your body and your soul.”
“They what?”
“If you get bitten, call Brad. See his doctor. You don’t want the bite to fester in your soul.”
I didn’t want to get bitten. Period.
My heart hammered so loud I wondered that the hound—and Doris—couldn’t hear it. I crouched down like a tennis player and fed energy into the pet wood until it was close to burning out. The hound lowered its front legs, too. We both readied for the charge.
Between the open frames of the houses, I saw the figure of a human coming down the road. His soul was smoky gray. He was holding something in his hand and approaching cautiously.
“Shit. I’ve got company.” I blinked and squinted as the beam of a flashlight swept across my vision. When the light was directed away from me, I could see the man. “Crap. It’s a cop.”
“Where are you?” Doris asked.
“I’m not in Kansas, that’s for sure. What should I do?”
“You’re trespassing, aren’t you?”
“Bingo.” I was whispering now, afraid that the cop would hear me. If only it wasn’t for the hound, I could try to slip away. But I couldn’t leave the cop alone with the hound. The academy simply didn’t train cops to handle dogs turned into minions of evil. At least, I didn’t think it did.
“Did Brad send you there?”
“Uh, sort of.”
“Child, you’re going to be in a heap of trouble.” Doris chuckled. “I miss those days.”
“I don’t have time for a trip down memory lane. What should I do?” The hound’s ears were flicking back and forth to listen to the cop approaching and my hushed conversation.
“Act remorseful and contrite. Trust me, you’ll get away with a lot more if you don’t give the cops attitude.”
“I meant about the hound.”
“You’ve got to protect the cop from the hound. He’s seeing a dog. You’re seeing the real evil. Now hang up and get busy. And remember, you’re on the same side as the cop.” The connection went dead.
“But he doesn’t know that,” I whispered. I pocketed Medusa. It was now or never. I couldn’t exactly wield my pet wood in front of the cop without arousing his suspicion—or worse, his aggressive instincts.
“Here, doggie, doggie, doggie,” I called softly. The hound’s ears pricked in my direction. A long string of drool slid from the corner of its mouth. My pulse thundered in my ears, and my intelligent, self-preservation-focused inner voice told me to run. All the muscles in my body tensed. I forced myself to stalk forward one step, two, keeping the flashlight steady on the hound.
The hound circled to the right. I extended the pet wood in front of me like a glowing riding crop. It was too thin, too fragile. Why hadn’t I picked a walking staff?
The cop rounded the corner. The hound glanced in his direction. I saw my chance. I lunged.
10
Earth First; We’ll Log the Other Planets Later
“Go on! Get!” the cop shouted. He banged his flashlight on the side of the building. The hound jumped; I tripped. The hound took one last look at me and fled into the greenbelt. I watched it go, knowing I shouldn’t have been relieved. It was still going to be out there tomorrow. I was still going to have to chase it down. Yet I felt like I’d been given a death-row reprieve.
“Are you okay?” the cop asked me.
He was approaching me cautiously, his flashlight aimed at my face. In Primordium, I could look straight at him, unaffected by the light that didn’t exist to my vision. I took a closer look at his soul. There were no oily dark smears on his life force. His gray was honestly gotten from life experiences.
“Miss. Are you okay?”
Be scared, Madison. Be scared and remorseful. A damsel in distress. I didn’t have to try too hard, either. I blinked, then quickly looked down at my feet, blinded by the flashlight in my eyes. How long had I been staring into it? Was he suspicious?
“Uh, yeah. I think I am,” I finally answered. “Th-thank you for scaring the hou—the dog.”
“What do you have in your hand?”
“Um, a-a cat toy. It was all I had handy.” I carefully held the pet wood up fo
r him to see, then pushed on the end to collapse it. It fell in on itself like an old radio antennae until it was no longer than my hand. “I don’t think that dog found it too scary.” I tossed the cop a trembling smile. He lowered the light out of my eyes.
“What are you doing out here?” He stopped a few feet from me, cautious, but he clearly didn’t see me as a threat. That made two of us.
I had been scrambling for an answer to that question since I’d first seen the cop. Keep it simple. I gave him a sheepish look. “I’m thinking of buying a home out here and I wanted to get a look before anyone else.”
“In the dark?”
“Well, there was still light when I got here. And I have my flashlight.” I held up the useless-looking Primordium flashlight. I flicked the on and off switch. Nothing appeared to happen. “I think the batteries died. And then that horrible dog showed up.”
“And you were going to scare it away with a cat toy?”
I gave him wide, Bambi eyes. “It was all I had and I was scared.” True, and yet not the complete truth.
The cop adjusted his belt buckle and relaxed his stance. He was older, closer to retirement than rookie. He had the hard eyes that all cops develop, but his round cheeks had hints of dimples and his lips had a natural curl toward a smile. I found myself relaxing a little, too.
“This is private property. You’re not supposed to be out here.”
“I know.”
The cop gestured for me to head back to the road, and he fell in step beside me. I made sure to slouch a little so that I looked contrite.
“We’ve had some problems around here lately. It’s not safe for a young woman alone.”
“Problems? Is it dangerous? Should I not move in here?”
The cop guided me around a pile of dirt and used his flashlight to peer around us. I blinked to check for imps. We were alone. I blinked back to normal vision and stumbled. The cop caught my elbow to steady me and I gave him a smile.
“So far it’s a few punk kids up to no good. But that’s how it starts, and these things can escalate quickly.”
“What are they doing?”
“The usual. Trespassing and vandalizing. Most likely bored rich kids from across the way.” He gestured into the dark across the tree-filled valley to the homes concealed on the other side. “I thought tonight was my lucky night.”
It took me a moment to realize he meant he thought I was one of them. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Me, too. But we’ll catch them soon. Before these are ready for residents, that’s for sure.”
I smiled at him, congratulating myself for having found the source of evil in this area. Finally I had something to go to Mr. Pitt with.
We reached the road, and the noise of passing traffic filled in the silence between us. Streetlights provided enough illumination for me to read the cop’s badge.
“Thank you again for rescuing me, Officer Parker,” I said, reaching for my car keys.
“Don’t let me catch you out there again,” he said.
“No, sir. Definitely not.”
He walked me to my car and peered into the windows.
“That’s a lot of plants you’ve got.”
“Yep. I’m redecorating.”
“Huh.” He shone his flashlight into the backseat.
I touched a plant. The leaf deadened under my finger. I jerked back.
“This is your warning. If I catch you trespassing again, I will have to arrest you,” Parker said, his voice all business though he was clearly distracted by my full car of plants.
“Thank you, sir.” I slid into the driver’s seat, carefully not touching any plants, and turned on my car.
With an admonishment for me to drive safely, Officer Parker stepped back and slapped the roof of my car. I took that to mean I was free to go and wasted no more time. I eased into traffic and sped up to five miles an hour under the speed limit.
I obeyed every traffic law all the way home, including using a blinker to turn into my assigned parking space at my apartment complex. It was silly of me, but since I’d gotten away with one crime that night, I felt I owed it to Officer Parker to obey the rest of the laws. When I turned off the engine, I sat for a moment gripping the steering wheel and stared blindly at the dashboard.
My encounter with the hound had scared me more than I wanted to admit. I blinked and checked my surroundings. Two cats were having a face-off in the bushes in front of my car, but otherwise I had the parking lot to myself. My gaze fell on my hands still gripping the steering wheel. The creamy light of my soul was dim. How much lux lucis had I used on those imps and the pet wood? And when had I gotten so comfortable with looking at myself in Primordium? All I felt now when I looked at the back of my hand was concern for the color, not dizziness or queasiness. If I was going to be honest with myself, I was a little nervous, too. Last night, I’d recharged unconsciously—literally. I’d never done it intentionally. Having the plant’s leaves die at my touch had unnerved me. I didn’t want to kill to recharge. Feeding off Mr. Bond wasn’t an option, either.
I pulled the pet wood out of my pocket. It shone more brightly than my hand.
Maybe I can circumnavigate everything, I thought.
I tried to pull the lux lucis back from the pet wood, but nothing happened. I pushed a little lux lucis into it, just to check. Energy slid easily from my fingers into the wood. I tugged it back again. When that didn’t work, I imagined the lux lucis flowing from the tip of the wand back to me. It worked as well as making my freckles disappear by imagining they were gone.
Tentatively, I placed the tip of the pet wood against my left palm and gripped the other end with my right. Taking a deep breath, I eased lux lucis through the pet wood.
Pure, good energy oozed into my left palm from the pet wood. The faint trickle tickled. Grinning, I pushed more through. A rush of lux lucis flooded my left palm. The tickle turned to a tingle, like my hand was half asleep. The feeling rushed up my arm, and I fancied it was traveling through my veins, carried by the beat of my heart through my body.
For a moment, I thought I’d done it and had taken the energy from the pet wood back into my body. Then the rushing sensation hit my chest and swirled down my right arm. When it met the pet wood, it raced through the wand and back to my left palm.
I’d created a loop.
In five pulses of my heart, the racing lux lucis completed another circuit. Three pulses the next time. Two the following time.
My upper body numbed, caught in a whirlwind of energy. If it hadn’t made me dizzy before to look at my hands, I was more than making up for it now. I closed my eyes, but that only made it worse. My lips began to tingle and my teeth chattered. The lux lucis had taken on a will of its own, humming through the closed circuit I had created.
I forced my gaze to my hands. The pet wood hadn’t dimmed at all. If anything, it was glowing brighter. The same could not be said of my hands. They were a pale white, despite the lux lucis racing through them.
Enough, I thought, pulling the lux lucis to a stop. Only it didn’t work. The cyclone of lux lucis didn’t even slow. I flexed my right forearm to pull the pet wood from my left hand. The muscles refused to move, too numb to function.
Crap, crap, crap!
In desperation, I used my knee to knock the pet wood from my limp fingers. Lux lucis flared in my right hand, growing brighter and brighter as the whirlwind stacked up on itself.
My hand pulsed as if my heart had migrated to my palm. My left hand was so pale it should have been translucent. I hesitantly clasped my hands together. Lux lucis bled from my right to my left hand.
When everything stabilized, I collapsed back in my seat and shut my eyes.
“That was stupid,” I admitted.
When I opened my eyes, I saw a soul much dimmer than it had been before my impulsive experiment.
Gingerly, I reached for the bright pet wood on the floorboard and collapsed it, shoving
it into the depths of my purse. Resigned, I reached for a plant. The moment I touched its leaves, I felt better. Even as I watched, the life force from the plant raced through its branches into my palm. The stalk in my finger crumbled. I jerked back and blinked. Half of the plant was dead, the other half wilted. I turned on the car’s dome light and double-checked, then stared at my hands in horror.
“How is this not a sign of evil?” I reached into my pocket to call Doris, then stopped myself. She would tell me exactly what she’d said that morning: The plants give their life freely. I had felt it this time. The plant had willingly sacrificed its life to replenish mine.
“I’ll nurse you back to health,” I promised the wilted plant.
I blinked back to Primordium and looked around. There were plenty of trees, shrubs, and lawn around the complex. Plant life glowed everywhere. I got out of my car and locked it behind me.
I headed for the grass first. When I touched it, it died in a perfect handprint. I jerked back. Too fragile. I walked over to the shrubs and ran my hand along the squared-off edges. Lux lucis rushed into me, and dead leaves fell off the branches to the ground.
“God damn it!” I was a freaking vegetarian vampire! Why didn’t anyone mention this to begin with?
Wouldn’t you still have taken the job? my own thoughts countered. Would you deny how right this job feels just so you could save a few spider plants or azalea bushes?
I smothered the voice, not wanting to hear reason—or acknowledge that anything about using my soul-sight felt right—when I was working myself up into a good fit. “I’m only doing this temporarily for the money,” I reminded myself, and I pushed aside nagging concerns about attracting imps—or worse—after I quit.
A Fistful of Evil: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Madison Fox, Illuminant Enforcer Book 1) Page 13