by A. L. Tyler
Lyssa spoke from behind me. “We talked about it, Annie. I knew you wouldn’t like this, with Vince and all, but it’s the only way. Walter, you’re already dead if this doesn’t work. What we want to do is summon him, and then threaten him with your death if he doesn’t take me as a bridge. If he does, then I will bind him, and you’ll be free when I make him consent to severing the bond with you. That’s the only way we can be certain to keep you alive—force him to consent to breaking with you. That means a second bridge and a binding. If he refuses to have me…”
I turned to look at her. She didn’t want to say it.
“Then you’ll kill me,” Walter finished.
“Charlie will,” Lyssa said despondently. “I don’t think I could…”
“No,” Walter said suddenly. He looked back at Martha. “She’ll do it.”
The deep red smile on Martha’s lips and the focus in her eyes nearly sickened me. She was looking forward to it, and for the first time, I saw what Charlie saw when he looked at her. She was a killer.
And she had known, too, because she pulled a knife from under a pillow on the couch, and then leaned in to kiss Walter on the cheek again. She whispered something in his ear, and kissed him on the lips as Charlie rolled his eyes.
“I’ll make it quick,” she promised.
“Just summon the jackass already,” Charlie groaned.
Walter was still staring into Martha’s eyes, mesmerized, and I wasn’t sure if he was himself when he nodded. He said some words under his breath, calling out to Stark, and it took less than a second for the blond-haired man to appear before us.
He turned in a slow circle, the smile spreading across his lips as he faced his old friend.
“Charlie,” he said. “You were always good at fooling the girls. How much do they really know about you? Kendra doesn’t know. She wouldn’t be with you if she did.”
“If I could have killed you years ago,” Charlie replied sourly, “I would have.”
The next voice to break the silence nearly broke my heart, because I could hear the tears in Walter’s words.
“I’m breaking the bridge with you,” he said. “I’m not going to end up in someone’s wardrobe.”
He pulled something from his pocket, though I couldn’t see what it was. Stark froze, and Charlie’s eyes flashed.
“Walter—!” Charlie called out, but it was too late.
Stark turned on us, and his eyes looked from one of us to the next. He was glowing—glowing—with a pale blue light that burned my eyes and my skin, and I ducked down, shielding myself with my arms as Lyssa started to scream.
When I opened my eyes, I thought I had gone blind, because the bright light had left a halo of darkness on my retinas where my apartment should have been. Charlie was mumbling incoherently, and I looked over just in time to see him and Martha bowing down over Walter.
“The idiot!” Charlie hissed. “He was supposed to wait for Stark to take a new bridge so this wouldn’t happen!” He pulled something from Walter’s hand, and looked at it, then turned his accusing eyes on Martha. “How did he get this?”
Martha took her bracelet talisman back from him, and then frantically bent over Walter’s corpse, waving her hands over his chest like she was trying to fan a fire.
Sparks appeared.
I hoisted myself up onto my elbows to see better, and Charlie looked over like he had forgotten I was there.
“Thorn!” he yelled. “Lie still!”
He rushed over, but I still saw. Martha’s hands illuminated a tight knot of glowing thread in Walter’s chest, red and pink and white, and she bowed down over him, basking in them before she used her fingers to delicately pull a few of them loose into her palm before they all burned into blackness.
I had witnessed the moment of Walter’s death.
“Thorn, can you breathe?”
It took me a moment to register what he was asking, and when I looked down, I saw the blood. It soaked my shirt, and the carpet.
The scar that Stark had put on me before had ripped wide open. And it didn’t hurt at all.
“What did she do?” I asked, pointing lazily. “What did she do to him?”
“Thorn, lie back before you kill us both!”
I stared at him, and then looked back down, and I was sure that all of the blood had come from somewhere else.
“It’s not my blood,” I said, trying to get up. “It’s not my—”
I stopped as pain overtook me. Shrieking and falling back into Charlie’s arms, I saw Lyssa’s body jump on the ground next to me as she regained consciousness. She had a gash on her head and panic in her eyes as her face swam over me, and for some reason, Stark’s words came back to me.
Kendra doesn’t know. She wouldn’t be with you if she did.
My hands were shaking as I clung to Charlie. I was cold, but I felt like I was sweating.
“What doesn’t Kendra know?” I asked, feeling my tongue slide around my mouth as I fought to stay conscious. The last time I had given in to the darkness, I had become a demon, and that wasn’t going to happen again. “What doesn’t Kendra know about you?”
Lyssa shook her head, looking at Charlie. “What is she talking about?”
Charlie looked down, and our eyes met, and I watched as he disposed of the idea of telling the truth just as quickly as it came into his mind. Stark was right; he was a very good liar.
“She’s delirious,” he said. “If you have nettles, she’s going to need them.” He looked back down at me. “I’m sorry, Thorn, this is going to hurt.”
And even with all of my determination, the lights went out again.
~~~~~~~~~
I wasn’t out for long that time. Only around ten minutes by Lyssa’s estimation, and when I came to, the pain had subsided to a manageable level. Charlie had sewn me back up, and while the scar that ran down my side wasn’t any worse, it looked different now, and for some reason that bothered me.
I had come to accept it, but with all the new edges and contours, it was a stranger on my body again. It ached liked I had a deep, heavy bruise.
Charlie took the time to explain to me in private that it was likely to tear any time we saw action with Stark. It had been imprinted down to my very soul when he had ripped me to the Other Side, and it had stayed when I briefly dipped a toe into becoming a demon, and that was why it would never heal. The scar had formed when I had no body, and now it would show on my physical form forever.
He told Lyssa it was just normal damage from dealing with demons. I saw the way Martha looked at me, with pity in her eyes, when he explained. She didn’t say anything, but she knew a lot more about demons than Lyssa did. She knew the truth.
She told us that Walter had approached her for help of a different sort than she had led us to believe. By the time a person arrived on a necromancer’s stoop, they had already accepted their demise. He had angered his pack, first by summoning Stark, and then by using him to attack the niece of Kendra Hawthorn. They had abandoned him to his fate, and he didn’t want to be sold by the pound after his death, so he had come to Martha seeking a more humane release.
Using the talisman that Martha had loaned him, he had forced a break with Stark. It had ended his life, but Charlie was fairly certain Stark still lived on somewhere in the Other Side. Death of a bridge to suicide wasn’t as severe to a demon as other tragedies, because the soul had already prepared itself for a release.
I was upset that Martha hadn’t tried harder to convince him to live. Charlie accused her of encouraging him, because she wanted his death for her own life-hungry magic. Lyssa didn’t say a lot; I think she didn’t want to think ill of her friend. What was done was done.
While Charlie and Lyssa debated how bad it was that Martha had lied about the encounter, I checked on Gates and then went to shower and change out of my bloody clothes. Lyssa stopped me just as I got out of the shower.
Martha had promised Walter that she would take his body to Adeline for a proper burial.
&nbs
p; I told Gates, and then the four of us loaded into my Trooper because it had the most room for a body in the trunk. Charlie drove, and the whole time I kept shooting him glances. Stark had said there was something about him we didn’t know.
Kendra seemed like a forgiving person. She went around befriending werewolves, demons, and necromancers. Whatever it was, it had to be pretty bad if Stark thought it would end their relationship outright.
We woke Adeline up to deliver the body, and she in turn woke the rest of the camp. If I had known it was their custom to send the dead off immediately, I might have insisted on waiting until morning.
They built a funeral pyre and burned him. Adeline said it was to protect his remains from scavenging warlocks.
As the flames grew higher, more and more of the werewolves at the settlement came out, and I was surprised to find Vince there. He was standing next to a young woman, but his eyes lit up and he came over to see me.
“Is that…?”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to be respectful. “Walter. Stark got away, but Charlie thinks it hurt him pretty bad. Walter did something stupid.”
Vince sighed. “He seemed like that kind of guy. He was a good guy, don’t get me wrong, but… yeah.”
We both fell silent. He reached over to hold my hand as we stood side by side, watching the smoke and flames rise into the sky. I looked at him, and then back at the girl he had been standing with a moment earlier.
“Is that your new werewolf girlfriend?” I joked.
Vince didn’t look at me. He squeezed my hand.
“Vince?”
He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Annie, I was trying to find a good way to introduce you, because I wasn’t sure how you would take this. That’s Blake. She’s Adeline’s daughter. I’m staying in her spare room.”
I looked over at the girl again. She looked too thin and delicate to have a strong name like Blake, especially after I had built an image in my mind of a swarthy and masculine werewolf.
“That’s Blake?” I asked incredulously. “Did you know before, or…?”
“I didn’t know,” he apologized. “Someone told me Adeline had a son and a daughter, Ashley and Blake, and when I got Blake’s number, I assumed Blake was her son.”
I didn’t want to admit it, but my heart sank. “You moved out of my place to move in with another girl.”
“It’s not like that. She’s with someone.”
“Because you asked her if she was?”
“Annie…”
“It’s cool,” I said. It wasn’t cool. It should have been, but it bothered me to look at Blake. After Adeline’s warnings, I felt like the world had conspired behind my back to try to break us up, and Vince was really the only good thing I had going in my life right then. It wasn’t fair. “If it’ll help you with everything, then it’s cool.”
He squeezed my hand again.
When the fire had burned down and the sun was coming up, I was too tired to care anymore. We left the pack and gathered by the Trooper, and when Charlie reminded me that he could just snap his fingers and get us home, I nearly cried in relief. We weren’t traveling with a werewolf because Vince was staying through the full moon, and the long drive was no longer necessary.
But before Charlie could raise a hand to transport us, Martha pulled a small vial from her pocket and gave it to him.
She smiled, pleased with herself. “I made it with Walter’s last threads of life. I don’t need to tell you how powerful they are as a protectant, coming from a werewolf. Drink it, and let your curse fall, and it still won’t be able to harm you.”
Charlie stared at it and frowned. “You let him die to do this.”
“He was going to kill himself, with or without me. He said the pack wouldn’t have him back, and even if we freed him from Stark, he would live in fear of him the rest of his life,” she said, looking at the ground. Charlie still didn’t look like he believed her, and even Lyssa looked troubled by the thought. “I told him I was going to take it, though, and he knew who it was for. Don’t let him die in vain, Charlie. Stark got away, and this can level the playing field.”
He looked at Lyssa, and so did I. Lyssa took a deep breath, and then nodded. Evil as it seemed, it was done, and Martha was right—it might have been our only chance to break Stark’s advantage.
“Why would you do this for me?” Charlie asked, focusing on Martha again. “You’re not going to get anything out of it.”
“Maybe I’m just here to help,” she shrugged. “Just like I’ve been saying all along.”
Charlie hesitated for a moment when he opened the vial, but then he drank it. I blinked, and we were home again. Gates was watching television, and with another snap of his fingers, Charlie had cleaned up the blood stains and set my apartment back to right. It was early Saturday morning, and I was going to sleep until Monday.
I had just said as much when a knock came at the door. Being the closest, Charlie reached over to open it.
She was standing there, wearing leggings under a knee-length skirt, with a beige hip-length cape wrapped around her shoulders. Her red hair was pulled back into a ponytail and while I knew she was at least sixty years old, she didn’t look a day over thirty. Being a demon’s bridge had its perks.
She looked at Charlie in surprise. He looked back, and neither of them moved.
“I’m sorry.” Kendra’s voice was barely a whisper.
Chapter 13
They stared at each other for a moment longer, and I saw tears welling up in Kendra’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. She started shaking her head. “I couldn’t break it, and I didn’t know what else to do…”
Charlie embraced her, and she said something else that was lost into his shoulder. They stood there, and Charlie kissed the crown of her head before she turned her face up to kiss him. I turned to go to my room and give them some privacy. Lyssa gave me a smile and a wink and went to do the same.
But the odd look on Martha’s face made me stop.
I heard a scuffle behind me, and turned back to see that Kendra was staring at Martha with a fixed anger, even through the misty nostalgia in her eyes.
“I didn’t think you were coming,” Martha frowned.
Kendra’s voice was still so quiet when she spoke. “You wanted someone worthy, Charlie. This is the person.”
He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t even ask.
Charlie snapped his fingers, and Gates was human again. Martha was a cat.
“But she knew you!” Lyssa babbled. “You were friends, and the thing with the college professor, and that time on the Ferris wheel when—!”
“We were friends,” Kendra said, stepping forward and picking up the cat. She set her on the table. “Were friends. You know how much these girls mean to me after everything I did for their mother, and still, you’re here. The next word you say is the name of the person who sent you, Martie, or you’ll never speak again.”
Martha stared at her from behind feline eyes. “Draven. He needs the book.”
Kendra closed her eyes, looking down. “I told you. I told you…”
“I wasn’t here to hurt them,” Martha said calmly. “I only wanted to know them.”
“To judge them,” Kendra accused.
“Our family is dying. We need new blood—”
“You can’t have theirs,” Kendra said firmly. “We had a pact, Marti. I should have known that you would fold on it.”
“I wouldn’t want her blood anyway!” Martha said with a look at me. Having withstood so many jabs from Charlie, Kendra had finally raised her ire. “She’s already touched the darkness. She’s unworthy!”
Kendra did a double take, and Charlie raised a hand to his mouth. Lyssa looked from me to the cat and back.
“What?” she asked. “Annie, what is she talking about?”
“She never talks again,” Kendra said to Charlie.
Martha hissed in response.
Lyssa had gone pale. She reached, l
ooking for something to steady herself, and finally grabbed onto the wall before sinking to the ground.
“You said you saved her before…” she looked at Charlie. Then she looked at me. “Annie, did you…? Were you…?”
I clutched the sumac at my neck again, and it felt unusually hot in my hand. “Only for a very short time. Charlie brought me back.”
“You remember it?” she squeaked. Tears had started to pour from her eyes, and I felt like I was watching her learn news of my death. She was my sister, or at least, she had been—because she was looking at me now like I was a stranger.
Kendra had bowed down to help her to her feet. She held her in a tight side hug, saying things about how they would figure it out. She took her into the hidden rooms in the kitchen, like she had been in my apartment a thousand times before.
When she came back, she looked at Gates, confused.
She opened her mouth, and then smiled, offering her hand. “You’re the old cat. Gates, was it?”
Gates looked like a doe in headlights as she shook hands with Kendra.
“Gates…” Kendra wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Were your parents Star Trek fans?”
Gates’ face lit with surprise. “You’re the first person to ever get that on the first guess.”
“She hates me,” I said, still staring after Lyssa. “She’s never going to love me again.”
I thought, or maybe I had hoped, that Kendra would deny it. She didn’t.
“We all have our challenges, Anise,” she said. “I’ve overcome worse, and so will you. And so will Lyssa. You’re sisters, so just give her time. For now, get some sleep. You look like you need it.”
Lifting Martha into her arms, she turned back to Charlie, looking grateful and apologetic and mischievous all at the same time.
“Charlie, let’s go home.”
And they disappeared.
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Chapter 1
- Kendra -