Hell Bent bm-1

by Devon Monk

“Thanks,” I said. “But you need to take care of Allie. Of both of them. Of your family.”

  “I take care of all my family, Shame,” he said, pushing off the car and walking away with that alpha swagger of his. “My family includes you.”

  Terric was walking down the steps. Allie waited for Zay just inside the doorway, the light of their home framing her.

  “Zay,” Terric said.

  “Don’t let him forget we hate the bastard too,” Zay said.

  Terric gave me a quizzical look as Zay passed him.

  I just shrugged. “Fatherhood makes him sentimental.”

  I heard Zayvion chuckle as he walked up the steps.

  Chapter 33

  I took Terric to the office because he wanted to talk to Clyde. For a guy who had been fired, he sure spent a lot of his time at his not-job. Dash promised to take him home.

  We’d gotten a hit on that syringe Victor had been holding. Turns out there was only one pharmaceutical company that could manufacture the mix of chemicals it contained. And we had hopes that since Eli was using it, we could track the purchase to Eli, or the people keeping him.

  More importantly, that we could track it back to where Davy was being held.

  I hit a bar at noon, left before one. Ordered a beer, but only took a couple drinks off it. Eleanor sat across the table from me, still and patient, but I was restless. So I walked the streets for a while, wandering. Aimless. Then a while turned into hours, and I found myself at Victor’s place.

  I stood there, hands in my pockets, staring at his front door. Imagined him opening it and telling me to come in. Walked up, pulled the key I’d had made years ago without him knowing about it, unlocked the door, and stepped in.

  The late-afternoon light fell through windows. His home looked like his home, felt like his home. I walked through every room except the bedroom. Couldn’t bring myself to going back in there.

  Thought about stealing one of his books, or knickknacks, or something to keep as my own before whoever was in charge of his estate vultured down on the place.

  Found myself at his desk in the corner of the living room. Ran my fingers over the closed rolltop. Opened it. There were two files neatly stacked there, a fountain pen—so very Victor—and his computer.

  I was surprised the police hadn’t confiscated all this. Figured Clyde had put the kibosh on that. After all, we didn’t need an investigation. We knew who killed Victor and why. The carvings on his body had been verified as Eli’s signature by several Hounds.

  I flipped open the folder. Lost my breath at the picture. Blue eyes that knew you were watching her, looking at her. Red hair, pale skin. And that smile.

  Dessa.

  I waited until the knife stopped twisting in my heart. Blinked until the text on the page made English again.

  He’d had a file on Dessa? Why hadn’t he given it to me? I took it, looked at the file beneath it. That one was on her on her brother, Thomas. I took that too.

  Then I closed his desk. Eleanor hovered near a bookshelf.

  “Do you want something?” I asked.

  She turned to me, startled I’d spoken to her. Wow, how out of it had I been?

  “Pick one. We can bring it back tomorrow.”

  She nodded, chose a slim poetry volume. I pulled it out and pocketed it. And hell, since I was in a burglarizing mood, I picked up a small frame on his fireplace mantel. It was a picture of Zay, Terric, and me, back when we were lads, laughing, and a much younger Victor laughing right along with us.

  Rare, that.

  Mine now.

  I left, locked the door behind me. Was not about to walk all the way home, so I caught the MAX to the bar where I’d left my car, removed the parking ticket from under my windshield wiper, threw it into the gutter, then drove home.

  It was dark by the time I rolled up to the inn, but the place was open, busy. I tried to remember what day of the week it was. No luck. Went inside, ordered whatever the special of the day was, took it up to my room.

  The ferret was sleeping in the little hammock strung at the top of the cage. I’d tried to take him down to the animal shelter, but at the last minute found myself setting up his cage in my room, doing research on what to feed him, and getting Eleanor’s promise she’d help me keep an eye on him. He was staying with me for now.

  I spent some time eating and reading over the files. When I was done with that, I showered, then brought the book Eleanor had wanted to bed and turned pages for her while I smoked and thought.

  I had set the picture of Victor, Terric, Zay, and me on the table by my bed and noticed something wasn’t right about the back of it.

  “Hold on a sec,” I said to Eleanor. I placed the book facedown on the bed about where Eleanor’s legs would be if she were solid, and picked up the picture, tipping it to better see the back. There was something glued between the cardboard backing and the photo. I removed the backing. Three microthin flash drives no bigger than my thumbnail were stuck to the cardboard. Written on each was a name: Terric, Zayvion, and Shamus.

  I pried mine free and took a closer look. Victor’s handwriting. I pushed out of bed, went into the other room, and pulled my laptop out from underneath the bills I hadn’t been paying. Took that to the couch and plugged in the flash drive.

  There were two files on the drive. One labeled LIFE, the other labeled DEATH.

  I hesitated, then clicked on LIFE.

  The file was full of photos and some videos. I clicked on a slide show view, and lost an hour to pictures of me, my friends, my family, my schoolmates, a few from before my father had died, but most from after. Victor had created a virtual scrapbook of my life, of all the good times, and sure, some of the bad we’d been through together.

  When the pictures were done, I wiped my palms over my eyes to clear the tears there. I was going to miss him for the rest of my life.

  I closed out that file and clicked on the other labeled DEATH.

  I figured it would be friends and family who had passed away, or maybe a will or last message he wanted me to have.

  Instead it was filled with photos from surveillance cameras, mug shots, and files. Each photo had a file behind it containing a name, discipline of magic, last-known address and occupation, a list of crimes, and a Closer’s name. The documents were written by Victor, and other high-ranking members of the Authority, and they were all marked CLASSIFIED.

  These were people who had raped, murdered, stolen, blackmailed, and betrayed. These were people who had used magic to do those things and more.

  It was a hit list.

  And Victor had left it in my hands.

  I sat back and thought about that for a bit. What did he expect me to do with it?

  I pushed out of the chair and retrieved the flash drives marked for Terric and Zayvion. Terric’s contained one file, filled with pictures, a lot like mine, and several reviews of the art that I guess Terric had once displayed at a gallery. The second file contained some information about some of the greatest Life magic users in the history of the Authority, and an exhaustive history on Soul Complements.

  Zay’s file was filled with photos, a few that contained a man and woman that might have been his parents. He’d been fostered out pretty young, and as far as I knew, he’d never looked for his birth parents. I’d honestly assumed they were dead, and realistically, they might be.

  The other file looked like Victor’s diary from the day he joined the Authority. Read like a history book of who’s who and what was what.

  Neither of them had received a hit list. That he’d given only to me.

  Because he knew I would do something about it.

  A knock on the door made me jump.

  “Mr. Flynn?” the night clerk said. “Call for you. A Mr. Conley.”

  “I’ll be right down.” I pocketed the flash drives and turned off my laptop. Pulled on a T-shirt and boots and walked down to the office.

  I picked up the phone. “Are you all right?” I asked.

  �
�You said you wanted to be here.” Terric sounded tight, but calm. “I’m at my house. Jeremy’s on the way.”

  “You invited him over?”

  “No. But he’s coming anyway.”

  I scrubbed my fingertips across my scalp, my new Void stone rings warming as they dampened the magic surging through me.

  “Shame? You don’t—”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I walked out into the cold without my coat, without a weapon. But when I pulled up to Terric’s place, I dug through my glove box, then checked under the seat. Found my knife, flicked it open, then walked up to Terric’s door.

  Tried the latch. It was open. Walked in.

  Heard voices in the living room.

  Terric stood by the fireplace, his arms crossed over his chest. Jeremy paced opposite Terric, which put his back to me.

  Terric didn’t look up as I walked in. He didn’t have to. He’d know if I were within a mile of him now.

  “...it him?” Jeremy was saying. “Whatever he’s been saying, it’s a lie.”

  “This has nothing to do with Shame,” Terric said calmly. “This has everything to do with you and me, Jeremy. With how you’ve been using me.”

  “Bullshit.”

  I flipped the knife up into my fingers. Terric’s eyes flicked over to me, along with a very clear “no stabbing” look.

  “Do you want to get your stuff now, or do you want me to mail it to you?” Terric asked.

  “Damn it, Terric. Why? We have something. I thought it was important to you. I thought I was important to you.”

  “You lied to me, Jeremy. You’ve always lied to me.”

  “You just want me out of the way so you can fuck that shithead Flynn.” He had stopped pacing the edge of the room and was advancing on Terric.

  Terric’s shoulders tightened and his eyes narrowed. “You and I are over. Leave.”

  “Like hell I’m leaving. You need me.”

  “No,” Terric said.

  “He told you to go,” I said. “I’d suggest you listen to him.”

  Jeremy stopped as if an icy wind had suddenly frozen him in his tracks. He turned to glare at me. “You called him?” he accused Terric. “You called this waste of breath to save you?”

  “I don’t need saving,” Terric said. Then, a little quieter, “Not from you.”

  “Fuck you, Flynn. I know you did this. What did you tell him? What lies did you tell him about me?”

  He crossed the room in five hard strides, and I waited, shaking my head. “You really should have left.”

  “Shame,” Terric warned.

  “I should have killed you!” Jeremy swung for my face. Stupid move. I ducked that and buried the knife up to the hilt between a couple ribs, then yanked it out and stepped out of his reach.

  He staggered back, but had enough anger, and whatever other substance in him, that one wound wasn’t going to shut him down.

  I’d gotten what I wanted, though: his blood.

  He stuck his hand in his pocket, reaching for a gun.

  “Stop!” Terric ordered, and a concussion of magic wreaked havoc on the air pressure and my eardrums.

  Jeremy was motionless, tightly frozen from knee to neck in the paralyzing Hold spell Terric had cast. “This is out of control,” he said. “Crazy. Both of you. I won’t stand here and watch you kill each other.”

  “I didn’t come here to kill him,” I said. “I can do that anywhere, anytime I want. And when I do”—I looked Jeremy in the eye and smiled—“I will make sure there are no witnesses.”

  “Shame, you are not helping.”

  I dragged my fingers across the blade, catching up Jeremy’s blood, which he was still leaking quite quickly. Before Terric could start arguing with me, I nicked my finger. With his blood and my blood combined, I drew a Truth spell.

  The strong scent of cherries filled the room, the unmistakable mark of Blood magic being used.

  Jeremy’s eyes widened as the Truth spell spun out from our joined blood, locking us into the binding of Truth, shaped by my hand and will.

  “Do you love Terric?” I asked.

  “Shit.” Terric exhaled.

  Jeremy was sweating. Thing is, a Truth spell is as strong as the user’s will, and I was a very determined man.

  “No,” he snarled through gritted teeth.

  “Do you care for Terric?”

  “No.”

  “Were you planning on using him and his magic for customized drugs for the Black Crane?”

  He was shaking now, his face gone purple-red. “Yes.”

  “Did you ever care for him?”

  “Enough,” Terric said. “Shame, break it. It’s enough.”

  I broke the Truth spell. It fell around his feet like loose ropes that soaked into the carpet and were gone.

  “You piece of shit,” Jeremy said.

  “I’m done,” Terric said. “Done with this. If you don’t walk out that door right now, Jeremy, I’ll call the police and have you forcibly removed.”

  “Police?” I said. “We don’t need the police for him.”

  “Yes,” Terric said, “we do. It is too late at night to be dragging a corpse out back and burying it. Which,” he said as he finally moved away from the fireplace and walked over to stand next to me, “is what will happen if you stay.”

  “You think he’s going to kill me?” Jeremy said.

  “He wouldn’t have to,” Terric said.

  Jeremy finally seemed to hear him. He switched tactics. “Come on, Terric,” he said, pouring on the nice and sweet. “I lost my temper. You know how I get sometimes. I just love you so much I go crazy. If you fix my side, I wouldn’t be hurting so bad. You and I could talk this out. Privately.”

  “Good-bye, Jeremy.”

  Jeremy looked at Terric, then turned his gaze to me. He was a little pale from blood loss, but he must have finally realized he had lost this battle.

  “You know what, Conley?” he said. “You were a lousy lay.”

  Then he turned and walked out of the house, his hand clamped tight over the knife wound. Even managed to slam the door behind him.

  We stood there for a minute, me staring at the door, Terric looking at the new bloodstains on the carpet.

  “What a mess,” he whispered.

  “Want me to follow him?” I offered. “Make sure he gets to the ER or something?”

  “No. Just. Would you stay? For a while?”

  I finally looked over at him. It was like someone had smothered the fire in him. He looked exhausted, pale, and when he spoke, his voice was too soft.

  “Just an hour?” he asked.

  “I’ve got time,” I said. “Maybe you should get some sleep.”

  “Yeah,” he said, “you’re right. You’re probably right.” He walked carefully around the blood and got halfway to his bedroom door before he stopped and came back into the living room. “I’m going to have to burn some memories before I sleep in there again.” He folded down on the couch, facing the back of it.

  The blanket he’d used on me was folded on a chair in the corner of the room. I picked it up and placed it over Terric, who, as far as I could tell, had already escaped into unconsciousness.

  I did not sleep. Spent too much time thinking about relationships and love and how nobody got out of either unscathed.

  After a couple hours, I got up, checked to make sure he was still asleep, then went outside, locking the door behind me. I checked to see if my phone was in my car. It was. I dialed Sunny.

  She picked up on the first ring.

  “This is Sunny.”

  “I need a Hound and a favor.”

  She sighed. “I’ve had zero sleep in the last two days.”

  “I know,” I said. “How are the leads on the syringe working out?” She had been looking into finding Davy just as much as Clyde and the Authority. Maybe more.

  “Nothing solid,” she said. “What favor?”

  “I want a Hound to find Jeremy Wilson and tell me
where he is right now.”

  “That’s a job, not a favor.”

  “I’ll pay. The favor is I don’t want anyone knowing I sent them to do this. I want the Hound to contact you, and I want you to tell me when they find him.”

  “Who’s Jeremy Wilson to you, Shame?”

  “He hurt Terric.”

  Out of all the people I knew, Sunny understood running against the rules, running on instinct, and doing everything possible to keep someone you loved safe. She was a Blood magic user. There was no getting out of that discipline without dealing with the darker side of the world.

  “We’ll forget we ever talked about this, I assume?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And you’ll make finding Davy a top priority. Pay me a favor when I want it?”

  “Deal.”

  “I’ll call you back.” She hung up.

  I lit a cigarette and waited. It was cold out, but the sky had cleared, letting stars pierce holes in the heaven.

  Took fifteen minutes, flat. Yes, the Hounds are that good.

  The phone rang. “Shame.”

  “He’s at a bar down on Third Street. You owe me.”

  “I owe you.” I hung up.

  Didn’t take me long to drive down there. I found his Jeep and parked nearby, waiting for the bar to close. Got out of the car and smoked a cigarette, pacing the shadows of the building by his Jeep. Eleanor was with me. She hadn’t tried to talk me out of this.

  I wasn’t going to let her.

  Jeremy walked out of the bar. Maybe drunk, maybe not. Didn’t matter. He strode across the street toward his car.

  Didn’t see me in the shadows.

  When he reached the sidewalk, I sent magic to snake out, dark, silent. It wrapped around his heart, shot up his spine to his brain, paralyzing. His fear washed through me.

  Good.

  I pushed him into the shadows, forcing his feet to move to my command.

  And then I released the hold on the hunger inside me. It consumed. Tore apart his body, snapped his bones, boiled his blood, and burned flesh with fire darker than shadows.

  A second passed. Two.

  No time to scream. No time to beg.

  I drank until there was nothing but ashes falling to the ground.

  I drank until his ghost hovered in front of me, frightened, confused.