Dark Embrace

by Angie Sandro

  “Squirrel and I were tracking the spirit. I’d only seen you briefly in the hospital, and I didn’t recognize you at first. That’s why I tried to warn you off.” My chest tightens again when his lips lift in a teasing and totally inappropriate smile, given his confession.

  The smile vanishes as if it never existed. “Of course, you’re stubborn like your cousin. You never listen.”

  “That’s because you’re a liar,” Mala snaps, shifting in her seat. “And a murderer.”

  “I’ve killed, but never murdered anyone.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “I’m telling the truth. Magnolia betrayed me as well. I was as surprised as you when everything went down at the party.”

  Mala’s face remains tight. “Your lack of action spoke louder than words. You did nothing to stop her, so save your excuses for someone like Dena who still cares.”

  Hurt flares in Ferdinand’s eyes, and I wince, unable to maintain eye contact. Everyone lies, even if it’s by omission. We lie because it’s easier than telling the truth. The worst lies are the ones we tell ourselves to rationalize our guilt. Those scar deeper than any physical injury. Ferdinand’s scars are reflected in his eyes when he looks at my cousin.

  “Stop arguing!” I squeeze my eyelids together. “Sorry if this seems selfish, but my problem supersedes whatever happened between you in the past. Ferdinand, why did you hide the fact that you knew about Ashmael?”

  “I thought I was protecting you.” Ferdinand turns to my cousin. “Sophia gave you her grimoire. Her book of spells,” he explains to me. “Can you explain to Dena what you learned about Magnolia’s plan?”

  Mala gives him the stink-eye, but she moves to stand in front of the coffee table, as if giving a lecture. “The Loa of Death used Magnolia’s body to live in our world. If I hadn’t destroyed the Loa before it could complete the body swap, I would’ve been its next victim.”

  “This is the simplified version,” Ferdinand says.

  “Fine. How about if you explain the more intricate details of her plan, Professor X?” she snaps, and I hide my smile behind my hand. Girl’s obsessed over Patrick Stewart. I’m surprised she hasn’t asked Landry to shave his head.

  Ferdinand drums his fingers on the edge of the couch. “Magnolia’s spell needed a tremendous amount of power, more than what she could cast on her own, so she combined her magic with Mala’s. When your cousin retrieved your spirit from the other side, the door between realms remained open because it’s linked to you.”

  I lean forward. “By door, do you mean the vortex that opens when people die?”

  “Yes,” Ferdinand says. “It’s a manifestation of the conduit which transports souls to their final rest.”

  Mala gasps. “You’ve seen the black hole thingy?” Her scowl creases her eyes. “You didn’t mention seeing spirits too when I confessed.”

  “I’m not a ghostbuster. I see death as a ribbon of fate.” I sniff, kind of liking how poetic this sounds. I can speak in an alien language, too. I catch their confused glances and sigh. Okay, I guess I should stick with English. “What about Ashmael?”

  “He’s the avatar of Death. When Magnolia died without closing the door, he was trapped in our world.”

  “So to free him, we close the door. How?” I ask.

  Ferdinand gives me a look so full of pity that I scrunch in my seat.

  Mala’s about to hyperventilate. I reach for a Popeye’s bag for her to breathe into, but my hand fists when I see the green cast to the chicken bones in the bottom. Silence stretches in the room. Finally, I whisper, “Ferdinand?”

  He swallows. “The door opened for your resurrection.”

  “So…” Don’t draw it out…Just say it…

  “It only closes with your death.”

  “No!” Mala hisses.

  I ignore her. “Killing me isn’t as easy as it used to be.”

  Ferdinand nods in agreement. “Only the conduit can reclaim Dena’s soul. Magnolia used her people even after they died. She’d bring them back. Year after year, they worked for her. Undying. Indestructible. The conduit has been reclaiming those souls, restoring balance. Which is in direct opposition to the goals of the two contenders for Magnolia’s throne. They are opposing powers, shoring up their resources and cleaning house by disposing of everyone who was loyal to the old queen. What they didn’t expect was that Ashmael would protect you, even though your death would break the spell holding him.”

  I shake my head. “Why?”

  “For some reason, he likes you.”

  For some reason…ha! “’Cause I’m awesome! Awesome, redhead, dead-girl walking.” I throw my hands in the air. If the spell breaks, he’d be free. He likes me. This thought gives me warm tingles, but guilt and the image of gold-flecked green eyes quickly shoves it aside. “Holy crap. So basically, because I came back from the dead, Ashmael’s trapped.”

  “Well, not exactly trapped, Dena. Somehow you freed him the day you were hypnotized. He’s no longer tied to the other side, but to you. He draws strength from you. And you…you’ve gained so much from him. Your fates are entwined. To send him back to the other side and close the door means you have to die.”

  I listen to him, mouth hanging low enough to fit my fist inside. I almost eat a knuckle sandwich to keep from screaming. I hear what he’s saying, and I understand what he’s saying, and frankly: What the fuck!

  “You…you’re the one who sent those men to kill her!” Mala yells, going for Ferdinand by jumping over the coffee table like she’s Wonder Woman. Her foot lands on a slimy piece of…well, not sure. Maybe avocado. I throw my hands in the air, catching her fall, but rather than learning her lesson and chilling the fuck out, she tries to go after Ferdinand again.

  “Let me go!” Mala struggles to break free. Ferdinand could break her into bite-sized pieces and spit her out if inclined, but he doesn’t move from the couch.

  “Cut it out.”

  “Who else would want you dead? He’s the one, Dee.” She wiggles like a trout, almost slipping through my fingers. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

  The rage I’ve been holding back all day surges, and in that instant rational thought doesn’t cross my mind, and I react. I grab my cousin by the shoulders and lift her into the air, shaking her the way Anders always tries to shake sense into me when I’ve done something stupid. Now I know why.

  “Hurt me?” I growl, punctuating each word with a shake. I stare into Mala’s horrified face. She gapes at the ground under her dangling feet. “You mean fix what you broke by bringing me back.”

  Hurt, followed by anger, turns her eyes into obsidian daggers. “Thou shalt not kill. You know what that means?” She jabs a finger into my chest. “I sacrificed my soul to bring you back. I killed Red. For. You. There’s no fixing that, Dee.”

  “I never asked you to.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I made my choice the moment I found out the two of you were trapped on the other side. He tortured you. Drove you insane. I had to get you out.”

  My laugh bursts out. “It matters to me. Not knowing what you did, living while knowing I came back wrong, but not understanding what happened to me or why…” I throw her away from me. She lands in the recliner. A loud crack fills the air when it collapses. She scrambles to her feet, breathing hard.

  “Look at me, Mala! I’m stronger, faster, can leap cars in a single bound.” I’m laughing through the tears falling from my eyes. I grab a knife sitting beside the Xbox and hold it to my chest. Dramatic much? But I want to make my point. “Do you know what else, cuz? If I stabbed myself in the heart, it would hurt less than the way I feel right now. I’ve been fighting to stay alive. For what? I shouldn’t even be here.”

  “Stop! Just stop, please, Dena,” she begs as I raise the knife, not knowing that it won’t do anything but give me a bad case of heartburn.

  “Then stop fighting with Ferdinand. He’s the only one who knows what’s going on. My only chance of getting out of this without sacrificing myse
lf. But I will, if I have to,” I warn, staring at her expectantly.

  Mala staggers over until she stands in front of me. She reaches out and turns the knife until it presses against her own chest. “You’re right. This is my fault. I weighed the consequences and made a choice. I never thought—” She scrubs a hand across her face, and I realize she’s crying, my cousin who hardly ever cries. “I didn’t know anything bad would happen to you. If I had—well, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t make the same choice. But I’d never keep it a secret.” At my frustrated growl, she steps closer. The tip of the knife digs into her skin, leaving a crimson dot on her shirt. “I won’t lose you again. I’ll fight death and the beyond for you. If you don’t believe that, then kill me now. I don’t deserve to live.”

  I frown, backing away. Crap, we both inherited a flare for the dramatic. We stare at each other for several minutes, unwavering in our intent not to be the first to blink.

  This is ridiculous. “Fine, I believe you.” With a roll of my shoulder, I flip the knife in the air, spinning it until it blurs, then throw it at the wall. The blade impales a poster of a half-naked woman.

  “Guess I’m also more dexterous.” I frown down at my hands, clenching them into fists.

  “Yeah, my cousin the superhero.” She shakes her head. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you.”

  “Yeah, well, stop. I didn’t mean it when I blamed you.” I shrug. “You know how my temper gets…”

  “Dena the slow-burning smokestack.” Mala laughs. She goes to sit in the chair and stumbles back up when she remembers it’s broken.

  “How about a group hug?” Ferdinand says, holding out his arms.

  Yeah, right.

  Mala’s eyebrows shoot down into another scowl, and I want to punch him. She’d gotten so angry at me that she’d forgotten about him. Then he goes and makes a lame joke and ruins it.

  He rubs his bald head. “I guess that’s a no.”

  “Hugs are for sissies,” I say, shoving at his chest. He stumbles backward, and I mumble, “Sorry, super-strength.”

  “Don’t push it, Ferdinand,” Mala says, looking like Grumpy Cat. “If you aren’t trying to kill Dena, who is?

  “I don’t know. What I do know is the Loa who possessed Magnolia didn’t escape from the other side alone. It was only the first. You’re not fighting normal humans, but entities who played at being gods. They are more cunning and evil than you can imagine. And as long as the door to the other side remains open and Ashmael hunts for them, their time on earth is at risk.”

  All the bravado in my cousin deflates with his words. She hunches in on herself, wrapping her arms across her stomach. “It’s not over. Magnolia’s dead, but it’s still not…” She chokes on the word, breathing heavy. Spots pink her cheeks.

  I grab the Popeye’s paper bag off the table and dump out rancid bones. “Breathe into this before you pass out.”

  “Thanks.” One big inhale, and her skin pales. “Don’t follow me!” she yells as she sprints for the bathroom. She slams the door shut behind her, but I can still hear her retching through the walls.

  “Gross. She’s gonna make me sick.”

  Ferdinand gives a slight smile. “You’ll heal.”

  True. I go knock on the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”

  Mala grunts and flushes the toilet. Guess that means yes.

  “Ferdinand, what I don’t understand is, if my death closes the door, why kidnap me?” I ask.

  “It changed the moment you freed Ashmael. In order to close the door, they need you and the avatar.”

  “Ashmael.”

  “No. Death is a function of the natural world. Ancient. Unthinking, unfeeling, uncaring of human life. Until it connected to you. It tasted life. It wanted more”—he points—“it wanted you. But to manifest, it needed a mortal to give it human form. Teach it human emotions. An avatar through which Death became Ashmael.”

  Mala comes from the bathroom, wiping her mouth on a paper towel. She still looks pale and a bit wobbly, but determination hardens her eyes. “So, out there, some poor human is possessed by the spirit?”

  “He is the spirit. They are now one. And we must find him before our enemies do.”

  Wow, Ferdinand’s like a bald, Haitian Gandalf. “What exactly are we supposed to look for in the host avatar?” I ask. “He’s not blue, right?”

  Before Ferdinand can speak, the door flies open. Angelo hustles into the room with a worried frown. “Time to move out. They’re coming,” Angelo says. His face, flushed with excitement, darkens when he sees his broken chair.

  “It’s her fault,” I say, pointing at Mala.

  My cousin huffs. “Stop blaming me for everything.”

  Angelo takes a deep breath. He turns to Ferdinand, “Sir, I say this with respect. You owe me.”

  Ferdinand sighs and reaches into his wallet. He pulls out a stack of hundreds, counts out ten, which he gives to Angelo, and the rest he places in my hands. “In case we get separated.”

  “I’m taking off, Dee,” Mala says.

  “Wait, what? Angelo says those guys are on the way.”

  “We need more information than what Ferdinand can provide, and I think Sophia’s book of spells can help. Don’t try to talk me out of this. I’m going.”

  “They’re dangerous—”

  Mala wiggles her fingers. “So am I. Keep in touch.” She turns to Ferdinand and Angelo. “Get my cousin someplace safe,” she orders.

  “Wait…” I cry, stepping forward, but the door shuts in my face. I spin to Angelo. “Should she leave like that?”

  “Flaco will point Mala onto a safe route. I rigged this whole area with false trails. What good would it do to be trapped if the shit hits the wall?” He stares at Ferdinand. “Mind sharing who you think is coming after this girl and why she’s so important?”

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” Ferdinand says, and I’m not sure if he’s joking.

  CHAPTER 20

  Zombie in the Dark

  Angelo’s cell rings. He answers in monosyllables that even I can understand with my limited knowledge of Spanish, and then slaps his phone closed. Whatever he heard bleached the color from his face. He turns to us. “Flaco says one of the cars followed Mala. The other belongs to the Russian, Zakhar Ivanov’s man, Victor. ” His hand trembles as he stuffs his phone in the back pocket of his baggy jeans. “You know what this means, sir? For them to send the best assassin…”

  Ferdinand nods. “Victor’s coming with guns blazing. No prisoners.”

  Angelo’s bleak gaze fixes on me. “We’d better jet.”

  Their words solidify the we’re-in-some-deep-shit niggling in my bones. Part of me knows I should play martyr. A real superhero would fight the bad guys until everyone got to safety. But I’ve been a normal human for most of my life. It’s been less than a week since I’ve known I’m more. Habits of a lifetime are difficult to break.

  I’m scared…I’d be a fool to deny or ignore the terror choking me into silence. It’s greater than my shame and guilt over bringing these men into my mess.

  Angelo ushers us from the living room and down a narrow hallway that ends at his kitchen. He goes to an electrical panel on the wall and flips a button. “The floodlights are disabled,” he says, then opens a sliding glass door. His head swivels as he scans the area, then waves us forward.

  I grab his arm. “Wait. What about your dogs? Aren’t they in danger?”

  Angelo smiles and pats my hand. “You’re sweet. My pups aren’t guard dogs. Their bark is all show, no bite. I kenneled them while you all had your private conversation.”

  Relief releases the air in my lungs. Even though I’m terrified of dogs, I’d never want one hurt or killed because of me.

  Ferdinand and I follow him outside. The back porch also acts as a fishing dock. It stretches out across black water. It’s too dark to see the far bank. Water laps against the logs, and the croak of frogs fill the night. The only light comes from the quart
er moon. Shadows line the shoreline. Most are trees, but I swear one of them is man-sized and moving steadily in our direction. It’s still a distance away. Even squinting, I can’t be sure it’s not a figment of my overactive imagination. Still, the rising hairs on the back of my neck give fair warning: The Russian’s here.

  I hunch my shoulders, wishing one of my powers included invisibility. Angelo heads to the end of the dock and unties a rope attached to a rowboat. I expect him to climb into it, but he shoves it off.

  I watch the boat float away. “Wh—”

  Ferdinand covers my mouth with a hand, and I nod, feeling stupid for forgetting. Covert escape mission. Duh, Dee.

  Angelo climbs down a ladder attached to the side of the dock. I listen for the splash as he enters the water, but only hear a slight slap, like feet stepping into a puddle. Ferdinand follows him down, and I stare over the side. They’re standing on top of the water like they’ve had a Come-to-Jesus moment. Ferdinand beckons for me.

  Shaking my head, I climb down the ladder. I hold my breath as my feet touch the water, but instead of sinking, I stand on a solid concrete beam. Angelo unhooks the ladder and pushes it beneath the dock.

  “The path’s only twelve inches wide,” Angelo whispers. “Follow my steps exactly or you’ll swim with my pet gators.”

  Gators…I shiver, searching for the telltale red glowing eyes in the water.

  I hold onto the back of Ferdinand’s shirt as he follows Angelo. I slide each foot across the narrow underwater bridge. Our steps barely make a sound, blending in with the slap of waves against the shoreline. It would be different if we tried to row the boat across the pond. The noise from the oars would be amplified by the water. Victor would have no trouble following us.

  A slight buzz fills the air. Angelo pulls out his cell, hiding the light behind his hand. “Hurry! Flaco says Victor’s pounding on the front door.”

  I gasp. “Flaco’s still in the house?”

  “Yeah, he’s gonna play the Xbox and pretend ignorance, not that it’s a stretch for him. Maybe it’ll buy us some time.”