by Kelly Gay
It really didn’t matter. Quickly, I pulled on the tee, leaving the jeans.
“You want a towel,” she asked quietly, motioning to the blood, “to clean up?”
She was scared. And I would have like nothing better than to reassure her, but there wasn’t time. “Yeah, thanks.” I swept by her and into the living room, where I pulled out the extra ammo I kept stashed in the back of Bryn’s coat closet. After reloading and tucking some extra clips in the waistband of the jeans and inside each boot, I straightened to take a wet towel from Bryn.
I nodded my thanks, holding it in one hand while dialing Will’s cell phone number. Voice mail. Again.
“Damn it!” I threw the phone onto the couch and stomped into the bathroom.
I stared at my reflection, wondering how my life could have done a one-eighty so quickly. Always looking for trouble, Connor would say. Why isn’t a normal life good enough for you? both Mom and Dad had repeatedly asked after I’d joined the ITF. Why risk your life?
Only Bryn had remained silent and unjudging.
My parents didn’t understand, even after I explained my need to protect them and myself after Connor’s murder. I’d vowed to never be in a situation where I couldn’t defend myself. And once I had Emma, the desire to protect and defend became even stronger. It seemed the only other women I knew who completely understood my motivation were others in law enforcement or the military, or those who’d been victims of trauma. My parents’ friends and extended family certainly couldn’t understand it. And it always made me feel like the renegade/loser of the family. At least in their eyes.
I removed my charm and washed the bloodstained crystal disk and chain, then splashed cold water on my face, using a clean towel to wipe off the excess and dry the necklace, realizing that my sister understood me more than anyone. And I hadn’t even given her credit for that, along with everything else.
Finished with the towel, I inspected the scratches and a few deep cuts from my trip through the lab mir ror. My bottom lip was still swollen from the deep slice down the middle. Lacerations were healing on my chin and left temple.
Bryn was banging around in the kitchen when I exited the bathroom. “I’m going to make sure Emma and Will get off okay and then I’ll be back.”
“One sec,” she said, her head popping over the cabinet door and then disappearing again. A second later, she came to the counter and handed me a bag of Doritos and a can of Diet Pepsi. “Here, it’s all I’ve got at the moment. Not only do I need to do laundry, but I’ve got to grocery shop, too.”
I hardly ever cried in front of my family. But seeing her standing there, eyes wide and supportive, made my throat close. I couldn’t speak, so I nodded my thanks. A small smile tugged on her pale lips.
“Oh, and take this. It’s a cloaking charm.” She placed a small rectangular silver piece in my hand. It was hammered and irregular. “This took me five months to make. Read the inscription clockwise and you’ll go completely unnoticed by those who wish you harm. Say the last word three times to deactivate it once you get to the car.” I turned it over and saw inscriptions written around the edge. None of the words made sense, just a jumble of consonants and vowels.
“I don’t know how … Here, you keep it.” I shoved it at her, uncomfortable with magic as I’d always been.
She shoved it back to me. “Trust me, you need it. There are two black mages across the street. I saw them from the bedroom window, and they’re not here to window-shop. They had to have seen you come in, so they’ll be waiting. Sound out the words exactly as they’re written. It’s easy. Just say the words and then get the hell out of Underground.”
“What about you?”
“Please. I can take care of myself. Why do you think they’re waiting outside?”
Her bravado made us both laugh, but I came to another understanding. My sister was a force to be reckoned with. She hadn’t earned her spot at the League of Mages by being a weakling. I hugged her one more time over the counter, taking a deep breath of her herby scent. “I love you, Bryn,” I mumbled against her hair.
“Love you, too, Charlie.” She eyed the charm in my hand. “It’s got enough magic in it to use twice, but it’ll wear off fast. Should be just enough to get you to the car and back.”
A new appreciation blossomed for my little sister. “Thanks.”
She walked me to the door. “I’d wait until just before you open the downstairs door before invoking the charm.”
“Got it.”
I was an emotional wreck walking down the stairs. Thankfully Bryn had closed her door behind me and locked it. The last thing I wanted was an audience when I invoked the charm. Magic made me extremely uneasy. It was a practice that I avoided at all costs. And now here I was about to invoke my first spell. Bryn’s probably jumping up and down with glee behind the door, I thought.
At the exit, I drew in a deep breath, reminding myself that I’d faced harder things than this. Invoking a charm should be a breeze. There was nothing to be afraid of, except maybe turning myself into a donkey. Way to be positive, Charlie.
Okay, I could do this. I didn’t have time to deal with two black mages right now, and getting to the car and then to Will’s was priority number one.
With the soda can in one hand, the edge of the Doritos bag held between two fingers, I opened my free hand and read the inscription exactly as it was written. “Brac sabacus romulatus abento inveridon.” I read the clockwise spiral, repeating the chant the four times it was written before the spiral ended in the center.
Nothing happened on the inside, but the air around me condensed to a palpable energetic force. The hairs on my arms stood straight. Holy Mary, Mother of God. I’d done it! Well, at least, I thought so. A feeling of accomplishment went through me. I turned, wanting to race up the steps and tell Bryn.
But it would have to wait.
Here goes nothing.I gripped the knob, creaked the door open, and slipped through the small opening. Hopefully they hadn’t seen the movement of the door. I stepped onto the sidewalk and into the hustle and bustle of Mercy Street at night. The exhausts on every pub and restaurant were working overtime, sending the aroma of food into the air. It all smelled like French fries. I scanned the crowd. Shoppers. Pub crawlers. Couples. And then I spied them standing in the shadow of a large potted palm tree, which held open the door to Abracas Bar & Grill. A long line of patrons waited for tables in the popular eatery, giving the black mages even more cover.
The undercover cop didn’t even see them. I probably wouldn’t have either if it wasn’t for Bryn. Or maybe I would have if I had remembered to tap into my newly discovered gene pool—hard thing to do if you spent your life relying on your human traits and training.
Their once-green aura was tainted with the smut of darkness. It surrounded them like a dirty cirrus cloud. I and other law enforcement called them Pig-Pens. I didn’t make it up, but it sure as hell fit. That was the price they paid for sacrificing their Elysian power for the dark power that fed Charbydon. One male. One female. Both tall and thin with their shoulder-length hair tied back from stoic faces. Their pearly dark eyes scanned the crowd, and they stood so still I wondered if they could be seen by your average Joe.
With a deep breath, I stepped off the sidewalk and into the street at a fast clip. They didn’t follow. Thank you, Bryn! I thought, breaking into a run.
Twenty minutes later, I pounded on Will’s front door in the newly developed and swanky town home community of Weston Heights. He wasn’t answering and my concern spiked. “Will?” I called loudly. “Will, open up!” I pounded harder and rang the bell several times.
Please don’t tell me I’m too late. I hurried around the landscaped walk and knocked on the neighbor’s door. The porch light was off and there were no lights in the windows, unlike Will’s brightly lit end unit. My heart thudded hard. Panic surged through me. My hands trembled as I pulled my weapon, moved to his front door, gathered my energy, and kicked the door directly above the knob. It
splintered open with a loud crack.
Carefully, I edged inside the hardwood foyer, staying against the wall and praying they were okay.
Down the hall, the living room opened into a vaulted space. Furniture was upended. Pictures askew on the walls. Fear stole my breath. I was too late.
I found Will’s body facedown on the floor.
“Will!”
Quickly, I scrambled over the chaos and knelt by his side. His pulse was faint, but still there. Thank God it was there. With shaking hands, I called 911 and then continued through the house, yelling for Emma.
Somehow I knew she wasn’t there, but I checked anyway, checked every goddamn room, closet, and corner. In the bathroom, I slumped against the wall, holding my Nitro-gun to my chest, the pain washing over me in enormous waves. The sour burn of raw anguish built in my torso and throat. I couldn’t remember how to breathe. It felt as though everything—soul, heart, lungs, skin, and blood—was being sucked away, leaving behind a hollow shell.
She was gone. Em was gone.
Find Em … have to find Em. Have to breathe.
My lungs deflated.
Pressure built in my chest and face.
Numbness stole through my oxygen-deprived limbs, but slowly a vibrating, demanding force, my will, shoved me out of my immobile panic. Breathe, Charlie! I gasped for air, heart straining and tired lungs filling. Finally.
I pushed away from the wall, my senses returning, and then I sprang into action, flying down the stairs to Will, heart and lungs trying to keep up and recoup.
“Will! Will, wake up!” I turned him over, tears choking my words. My shaking hands roamed over his head, neck, and torso, but there were no outward signs of trauma. Fueled by desperation and adrenaline, I slapped him across the face, screaming his name and shaking him by the shoulders.
His eyes blinked open with a start. Oh, thank you, God. “Will, where’s Emma?”
He didn’t answer, but his gaze darted around the room as though seeing it for the first time.
“Where did they take her? Did they say anything?” My heart was pistoning so fast, tears flowing, throat closing. “Come on, Will, please stay with me.”
Will’s arms moved slowly over his head, and then he gave a lazy, thorough stretch. I released his shoulders and sat back, dumbfounded, as he yawned, pushed up on his hands, and graced me with a blinding grin.
The aura around him went from his usual cloudy blue to gray with black swirls. Dread sucked the air from my lungs once again. I floundered around for the Nitro-gun, which I’d set on the floor before checking him for injuries, and then scrambled back on my rear, pointing it at him. It clattered in my hand, I shook so badly.
“You must be Charlie.” He sat up all the way and inspected his hands.
“Who the hell are you? And where’s my kid?”
He stopped examining his hands to study me for a moment. One corner of his mouth twisted into a half smile. A shiver crept along my spine. “I’m the guy your hubby sold his soul to.”
Shock siphoned the blood from my face. “I don’t believe you. Will would never do that.”
His head cocked slowly. It was Will, but it seemed like a puppet worked the strings, a puppet still not used to its body. “I have the paperwork, signature and all.”
“Soul bartering is illegal. Restore him to his body now.” I stood. Tremors weakened my limbs. I never thought I’d find the sight of Will Garrity eerie and repugnant. I never thought he’d go this far. The reality of what he’d done began to sink in and made my eyes sting.
Will pushed to his feet, unfolding himself slowly, testing out his new body, stretching his legs and arms, and wiggling his fingers. He tipped his neck both ways until it cracked and then rolled his shoulders. “Soul bartering is not illegal in Canada,” he said with a vacant look as he accessed Will’s recent memories; the only ones available to him.
“You’re not in Canada anymore. Will is a United States citizen. Give him back.”
“No.”
My fingers gripped the gun harder. Goddammit, Will! He’d sold his body and soul to a Revenant—a spirit entity that granted one’s greatest desire in exchange for a body to inhabit when it was that body’s time to die. Revenants were good at making deals with those whose lives would be cut short. Some said they could see a person’s death and, therefore, only made contracts with those who’d die at a young age.
I wanted to hurt this thing inside of my husband’s body, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Still in disbelief and my head spinning, I whispered, “Why?” How could he do this?
“Because he loved you,” Will’s voice echoed in the quiet. “I was going to give him the means to win your heart back, but … timing is everything, I guess. The guy sold his afterlife to live out his life with you. Too bad he kicked the bucket before that could happen.” He shrugged. “Not my problem, though.”
“And you knew,” I muttered, my legs giving out. I sank into the chair behind me, the gun hanging limp in my hand. “You knew he was going to die.” My stomach clenched hard against the queasiness burgeoning in my gut.
“Not like this. When I met him, the guy had a good ten years at least. He thought it was worth it. But then love makes people do desperate, stupid things. I’ve seen far worse, believe me.” Will lifted his arm and delicately sniffed the skin and then brushed his lips against the hairs on his arms. “I didn’t swindle him if that’s what you’re thinking. Look, your ex wasn’t an idiot. He knew when I agreed to contract with him that he’d die in the prime of his life. Living out whatever time he had left with you, with all the things he’d ever wanted, was worth it to him. If you’re going to go anyway, why not, right?”
I tried not to shout, but it didn’t work. “Why not?!” I should just shoot him now. “Why not is because you’re giving up any chance of an afterlife, that’s why not. His soul is stuck inside a body he no longer controls!” I wanted to kill Will for this! Anger was much easier than guilt. Realizing Will had given up his afterlife just to be with me and Em again was too much to swallow.
He ignored my outburst. “Took quite a beating from the jinn who were here earlier,” the Revenant said, delicately straightening Will’s bloodied shirt with his fingertips.
I went completely still. “The jinn.”
“Yeah. They gave me a message for you: ‘The boss says to tell you the second debt is paid.’”
Oh God. Tennin. He had taken payment for the debt. He had taken Will. I doubled over and grabbed my stomach, rage blinding my vision.
“Have to give him props,” the Revenant went on. “Your guy took a hell of a lot more than I expected. His heart was on its last few beats by the time I got here. Good thing, too, or he would’ve gone straight into the afterlife.”
Something I didn’t know. I raised my head. “If you’re not here to collect at their last breath then they go to the afterlife?”
“Soul and all. Contract null and void. We can’t inhabit a dead body without its soul. Just the way it is.” He sniffed. “If you wanna reanimate a corpse, go talk to a necromancer.”
I forced down the desperation rising in my throat. “Does that mean he’s still aware, alive?”
“Eh, sort of like in limbo.”
It was a tiny bit of hope, but I grabbed on to it for dear life. If there was a way to save Will and eject this creature, I’d find it. But right now, Emma was out there somewhere. And there were sirens in the distance. We needed to go before getting held up by the police and medics.
I stood, spurred into action, already halfway to the foyer. “C’mon. We need to find my daughter.”
“Not my problem.”
Oh, no he didn’t.
Fuck it. I swung around and shot him with my Nitro-gun.
CHAPTER 13
The Revenant flew back against the wall, denting the drywall and sliding down in a heap. He was a supernatural; he’d heal himself just like he’d healed Will’s body from the fight. I walked over, knelt down, and tapped his cheek with
the barrel of the gun. His eyes popped open. “I need to find my daughter, and you’re going to help me, got it?”
He rubbed the back of his head as he straightened. “You didn’t have to shoot me. Look, I’m a decent spirit. Did everything legal-like. No need to go all ballistic on me.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet. Get up. You take Will’s body, then you take his responsibilities.”
“Says who?”
“Says this.” I waved the gun. “And the little part of the soul-bartering contract where it says you must complete any unfinished business of the mortal’s life before going about your own.”
“You read that part?”
I walked to the front door. “Standard operating procedure. Let’s go.”
I slid into the driver’s seat of the Mustang as the Revenant fumbled with the passenger door handle. Grief swelled my chest. I slid the gear into reverse as Will got in, just catching the flash of blue and white as a patrol car turned down the street.
“What’s your name?” I asked, glancing in the rearview mirror as I drove off in the opposite direction. Better to separate this being as far from the real Will as I could. As it was, it was near impossible to look at him without wanting to weep.
“Rex.”
“Rex?”
He straightened Will’s shirt. “It’s short for something you could never pronounce.”
“Right. Did you or Will hear where they were taking Emma?” I knew he still held enough of Will’s last memories to answer for both of them.
“No, they didn’t say. Pretty much just beat the piss out of him while a female came in and took out your daughter.”
Swift rage flared up again, but this time I absorbed it, biting my cheek hard, and forced it into something I could handle: cold, calculating vengeance. This bitch, whoever she was, would pay for touching my kid. “Did you know her?”
“No. She was Abaddon, though.” He snorted. “No mistaking their cold, bitchy demeanor.”